Flesh and Blood (A DI Amy Winter Thriller)

by Caroline Mitchell

  CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

  ‘Are you sure you’re OK to work?’ Donovan stood over Molly, arms folded. His search efforts had not borne fruit. Bicks and Denny had accompanied him to each location, but the group were one step ahead. He appreciated Clacton officers being on board with the investigation. As for his own team . . . Donovan wasn’t buying Molly’s story about cutting her hand in a rubbish bin. But given there were no witnesses, he didn’t have much choice. Their office was quiet today, as CID pressed ahead with their burgeoning workload, and the detectives were in a briefing about an upcoming drug bust that had nothing to do with their case. Desk fans whirred at Donovan’s end of the office as they tried to keep the humidity at bay. He rolled his sleeves up to his elbow in an effort to cool down.

  ‘I’m fine, it’s only a scratch.’ A bloom rose to Molly’s cheeks, a sure sign she was being economical with the truth. She pointed at her computer screen. ‘I’m updating the system. The tech team haven’t had any joy so far.’

  ‘Why not?’ Donovan said. They were so close, but time was not on their side. He’d had several of the victims’ families on the phone, demanding updates. But given their victims’ potential wrongdoings, they were going to be difficult conversations to have.

  ‘Everything’s been wiped clean. It’s odd, because when I looked at Martin O Toole’s iPad it was working OK. That’s where I got the lead about the site he’d been streaming from.’

  At least they had received an update from Canberra City police station where their Australian victim, George Shaw, had once lived. He had left the area under a cloud, after a family dispute over his interest in his thirteen-year-old cousin. No arrests had been made, but intelligence revealed that he had emigrated a few months later after a fallout with his family. Contrary to what he’d told his friends, his parents were in Australia, alive and well.

  Donovan observed Amy walk into the office. An icy coldness had emanated from her since their argument. He could hardly blame her. Coming here had opened up all his old wounds. For once, he was the one being erratic. They had a good grip on the investigation. The toxicology reports revealed poison in the victims’ bloodstreams. Before, he’d had his doubts that the gang possessed the strength to kill, but this latest evidence negated that. But what about Carla? Why kill the one person who had tried to help?

  He watched Amy’s face tighten in concentration as she stared at her computer screen. Her hand went to her mouth, her eyes darting around the office before returning to whatever was before her. Unblinking, she stared, before catching sight of him approaching. Her fingers worked swiftly as she logged out of her computer, shutting down whatever program she had been looking at.

  ‘What is it?’ Donovan said. ‘Have you got a lead?’

  ‘You could say that, guv,’ she said with a fake cheeriness that gave him cause for concern. She stood from her desk and walked to the middle of the room. ‘Right, folks, we’ve got another tip-off from a witness. They were on the pier the night Carla was murdered. Not only that, but we’ve got her killer on camera.’

  An audible gasp rose in the room. Fingers froze over keyboards and phone calls ended abruptly.

  This was the first Donovan had heard of it. ‘How?’ he said. He should have been the first to know. He watched, thin-lipped, as she continued, her excitement evident in her voice.

  ‘They were filming for their YouTube channel when they saw the pier was insecure. They brought their camera. They got the lot.’

  ‘Bloody hell!’ Paddy said, rubbing his hands together. ‘When are they coming in?’

  ‘They’re not.’ Amy shot him a glance. ‘At least, not yet. They’re scared. That’s why they’ve sat on it for so long. I’m going to pay them a visit now.’

  ‘Do you want me to come with you?’ Paddy replied.

  Donovan straightened. If anyone was accompanying her, it would be him.

  ‘Cheers, Paddy, that would be great,’ Amy said, avoiding Donovan’s gaze. ‘Steve, you can prepare an arrest package. I’m meeting our witness in Colchester so expect to hear back within the hour.’

  ‘Has this witness got a name?’ Steve glanced at them both. He was most likely wondering why Donovan hadn’t asked the question, but Donovan had a feeling there was more to this than Amy was letting on.

  ‘All will be revealed in time.’ Amy glanced at Donovan, signalling towards the door.

  ‘What’s going on?’ he said in a harsh whisper. ‘Why haven’t I been told about this?’

  Amy’s eyes flicked over his shoulder as she watched her team. ‘Do you trust me, guv?’ she said, still watching them.

  Guv? Donovan thought, stung by her repetition of the term. It seemed she hadn’t forgiven him yet. He looked into her eyes. She was sharp and focused, her mind on the job ahead. ‘Of course I trust you,’ he said, despite his internal alarm bells. ‘But . . .’

  ‘Then please, watch the team and don’t let them out of your sight until I come back.’ She leaned into him, raising her finger to drive her point home. ‘Even if they come up with a good excuse. Don’t let them go.’

  ‘Winter,’ he said. ‘What’s going on?’

  ‘There’s nothing to worry about, I promise. Please. Watch the team.’ Another glance over his shoulder. ‘I won’t be long.’

  ‘I’m driving,’ she said to Paddy, who slapped a fresh battery into his police radio. Donovan cast a wary eye over his team. Something was going down. Wherever Amy was going, it wasn’t to see some mysterious witness who had appeared from thin air.

  CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

  ‘I thought we were meeting a witness?’ Paddy watched Amy negotiate the unmarked police car towards Holland-on-Sea.

  ‘There is no witness.’ Amy checked her watch. She inched her foot on to the accelerator, turning left at the roundabout that took them on to the marsh road. Her palms were damp with sweat. She took no joy from excluding Donovan but she’d had little choice.

  ‘Then for the love of Mary Magdalene, where are you taking me?’ Paddy protested.

  ‘Let’s just say we’re following a hunch.’ Her pulse was racing now, all her instincts telling her she was on the right track. She didn’t need a witness to tell her who Carla’s killer was. She had figured it out by herself. She could have sat on the information, strengthened it with more evidence. But she did not have the luxury of time.

  ‘Slow down, will you!’ Paddy clutched the passenger seat as she took the twists in the road.

  ‘I’ve got to get ahead of them.’

  ‘Ahead of who?’

  But Amy couldn’t tell him. Not until she knew for sure. It was the same reason she couldn’t tell Donovan. Because the second either of them knew, they would make her stop. There were procedures for this kind of thing. Paperwork to be completed. Briefings that would slow her down. Because she wasn’t after any suspect. She was hunting one of their own.

  ‘Just . . . bear with me.’ Amy killed the ignition after parking the car.

  ‘What are we doing here?’ Paddy asked, after five minutes of sitting in wait. ‘Because I don’t see what’s so great about Bernie’s Fresh Fish right now.’ He was reading the logo of the van she had strategically parked behind.

  ‘I can’t tell you, because if I’m wrong, I’m going to look stupid, and you’ll never let me hear the end of it. But if I’m right . . .’ Amy smiled. ‘Hunker down. He’ll see you.’

  Mumbling under his breath, Paddy scooted down in his seat.

  Amy sat, barely breathing. She had enough of a view to see oncoming traffic. Her mobile buzzed in her pocket. It was Donovan. She knew without looking. She silenced a point-to-point call on her police radio.

  ‘That might be important,’ Paddy said.

  ‘Then he’ll call you,’ Amy replied, as an oncoming car pulled up on the driveway across the road. ‘Bingo.’ She smiled again, her pulse quickening now. ‘Right on time.’

  ‘What’s Bicks doing here?’ Paddy squinted at the car now parked on the expansive driveway. ‘Is he
helping you with a collar?’ He watched Bicks fumble with his house keys before letting himself inside. ‘Wait a minute . . . Is this his gaff? God almighty . . . how does he afford . . . .’ His face dropped as he met her gaze. ‘You don’t seriously think . . .’

  ‘I don’t think it, I know it,’ Amy said. ‘He’s got wind of our so-called witness and is doing a bunk. Yes!’ She punched the steering wheel, adrenalin coursing through her veins. She had him right where she wanted him. ‘C’mon,’ she said, climbing out of the car. ‘I don’t think he’ll give us too much trouble. He’ll deny it, at least for now.’

  ‘But you can’t nick one of your own without giving control the heads-up.’

  Amy leaned over as Paddy remained rooted to his seat. ‘You think I want this? I couldn’t tell the others because I didn’t know how far this went. Bicks wiped the iPad we booked into property, so the tech team wouldn’t pick up what was on there. He’s been shredding statements and rewriting them before they get on to the system. He deleted Carla’s emails. This whole time, he’s been interfering with evidence.’ She glanced up at the house and back to Paddy. ‘How do you think he can afford that? I bumped into him in the corridor the other day. He actually said he was on his way to the shredder. That’s how cocky he’s been. He thinks he’s untouchable. He’s not.’ Carla must have had her suspicions he was involved.

  Without saying another word, Paddy got out of the car. ‘Will I call for backup?’

  ‘We’ll update when he’s in cuffs. I can’t risk this getting out. He’s probably in there destroying evidence right now.’ Amy waited for a gap in traffic before crossing the road. ‘You take the front door. I’ll go out the back. Ask to see him. I guarantee she’ll tell you he’s not in.’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘His wife, Susi. She works from home. A failing business, according to her company accounts. It certainly doesn’t pay for a place like this.’

  Amy crept along the side wall as Paddy rang the doorbell. After several delicate chimes Bicks’s wife answered the door. ‘Sorry to trouble you,’ Paddy’s voice boomed out as he introduced himself. ‘Can I speak to Sergeant Bickerstaff? He left in a bit of a hurry and there’s a couple of things I need to run through with him.’

  An uncomfortable silence followed.

  ‘I’m afraid he’s not in.’

  ‘But his car’s here . . .’ Paddy’s words faded as Amy unhooked the side gate and crept out to the back. For the second time, she crashed into Bicks as he turned the corner to make his escape.

  The colour drained from his face as Amy called to Paddy to come around the back.

  ‘Sergeant Bickerstaff, I’m arresting you on suspicion of perverting the course of justice – you do not have to say anything, but it may harm your defence if you do not mention, when questioned, something you may later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence.’

  She watched as he dropped his suitcase, his face frozen in disbelief. But not one word was uttered as Amy took him by the arm. She did not need handcuffs. She knew Bicks’s type and he would have rehearsed for this day. Once Bicks was processed in custody, officers would follow up with a house search. A high-pitched cry followed them as Susi screamed at them to let her husband go.

  ‘It’s OK,’ Bicks said with cold calmness. ‘They’ve made a mistake. I’ll be home by teatime.’

  Susi’s sobs echoed down the drive as Amy led him to the car. He was perfectly compliant. Too compliant. The search team would have their work cut out for them. She only hoped that DCI Donovan would support her arrest.

  CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

  ‘Is it true?’ Donovan’s voice blared in Amy’s earpiece. ‘Have you gone Code 32 with Bicks?’

  He was asking her if she had made the arrest. Numerous point-to-point calls had come in on her police radio, which were private as long as the call didn’t drop out. It was an old prank in her probationary days; start with a private call, speak to them about something evocative, then drop the call so their response was played on the main airways. But Amy was far from probation now, and Donovan sounded deadly serious.

  ‘Yes, boss,’ she said, conscious Paddy was sitting with their suspect in the back seat of the car. Bicks had not said a word since his arrest. Amy activated the car indicator as she turned left from the Frinton gates towards Clacton-on-Sea. She had suspected Bicks of something underhand since their supper date in his home. A gnawing sensation that would not go away. He was a peacock, showing off his wealth that evening. The chip on his shoulder had no doubt grown from spite, as Donovan’s commendations grew. No wonder Carla’s investigations had disappeared from the police system. She wasn’t the one deleting her emails – he was. He had logged in under her username, and the time stamp of her emails’ deletion was after she died. But Amy couldn’t tell Donovan of her suspicions, not until she had something to back them up. There were no commendations on the wall of Bicks’s home. But there had been an interesting photograph of times gone by.

  ‘Winter? What time will you be here?’ Donovan’s voice interrupted her thoughts.

  ‘Five, maybe ten minutes, boss,’ Amy replied. She was building a case against Bicks in her mind. But without hard evidence, it might go nowhere. Right now, all she had was a spooked detective and some CCTV of him visiting the property office and switching the iPad. He hadn’t known about the camera that had been recently installed. But she did.

  The team had been subdued since she had brought Bicks in. Nobody, least of all Bicks’s colleagues, wanted to believe that there was a bent copper working alongside them. After their lukewarm reception, she had only just won them around. But Amy was steadfast, and their team deserved to know the truth. Bicks had been the rotten apple in the barrel all along.

  Amy prepared for a telling-off as she met Donovan in a spare office where they could build a case against Bicks, but he could barely look her in the eye.

  ‘You should have told me sooner. We could have handled this differently.’ His words were tinged with anger, the shock of Bicks’s betrayal etched on his face.

  But Amy was ready with an answer. ‘I wanted to do it without fanfare.’

  Bicks was to be taken to Chelmsford police station and provided with a police federation representative as per protocol when officers were arrested. There was too much conflict of interest for his own team to deal with this.

  So far, the search had produced very little, but Amy had expected as much.

  ‘Why would Bicks kill Carla?’ Donovan asked. ‘What would he possibly have to gain?’

  But Amy suspected him of more than that. ‘That day I spoke to Mama Danielle, she was terrified. The last person she could talk to about it was me.’ She stared at Donovan, but all she could see was disbelief. ‘Then, when Tina spoke to Molly, she said it was too dangerous for her to come into the station. So did Matty. Bicks is at the heart of this.’

  Donovan exhaled a weary sigh. ‘I thought I knew him.’ Finally, he met Amy’s gaze, his expression resolute. ‘We need proof. And we need to get those kids in.’

  CHAPTER FIFTY

  Friday 30 July

  Sipping her morning coffee, Amy battled her way through her thoughts as she dissected the case. The shadows beneath Donovan’s eyes relayed that sleep had not come to him either. She prayed that today would bring answers – that she could bring Matty and the others home. But pieces of the puzzle were missing, and they were running out of time.

  ‘One minute . . .’ Donovan uttered, stung by his colleague’s betrayal. ‘One minute with him is all I need to find out where those kids are.’ He paced the Neighbourhood Policing Office – the one place they could find some peace.

  ‘It’s driving me crazy too,’ Amy said, slamming down her empty mug on the desk. ‘They’re not going to let you near him and we’ve no clue where Matty is.’

  ‘But I have,’ came a voice from behind them.

  Both Amy and Donovan turned to face the man who had walked in.

  ‘I really wish you hadn’
t gone haring off like that yesterday,’ Denny said, as he joined them.

  ‘Denny,’ Amy said, surprised by the interruption. ‘I know he was your sergeant, but it’s time to face facts. Bicks was up to no good.’

  ‘Bicks wasn’t my sergeant,’ Denny replied. ‘And Matty is safe.’ His gaze flicked from her to Donovan. ‘I’m from PSD. We’ve had our eye on Sergeant Bickerstaff for some time.’

  Amy blinked, trying to process his words. It wasn’t uncommon for the Professional Standards Department to plant an officer if they suspected foul play. ‘So you knew all along? And Matty’s OK?’

  ‘He’s in a safe house. We couldn’t risk him getting hurt.’ Grabbing a swivel chair, he took a seat across from them. Of course, Amy thought. Matty had been due to meet Molly the night he disappeared. Whoever was responsible for trafficking the gang could not risk the truth getting out. But Denny had got to him first.

  ‘Please tell me you’ve enough evidence to charge Bicks.’ Amy’s eyes were wide with hope.

  ‘For perverting the course of justice? Easily. But for everything else? Not so much.’

  Donovan rubbed his chin. ‘If you were watching him, why didn’t you catch him on the pier the night Carla died? Because that’s what you’re saying, isn’t it? You think he’s responsible for her death.’

  ‘He wasn’t under twenty-four-hour surveillance. Even our budget didn’t stretch that far. Which is why I worked from his office.’ Denny turned his attention to Amy. ‘Nice move, setting up a camera in the property office. Did you get clearance for that?’

  ‘I can’t take credit for the camera,’ Amy said. ‘I was there when they set it up. I just asked them to keep it under their hats for a while.’

  Denny eyed Amy with curiosity. ‘And when he panicked about your so-called witness, that was enough for you to go after him, was it?’

  ‘I couldn’t risk him leaving the country,’ Amy said. ‘His passport was in that case.’ She regarded the officer with a deeper respect. ‘Shame you didn’t confide in me. We could have worked together on this.’