Flesh and Blood (A DI Amy Winter Thriller)

by Caroline Mitchell

  Her suspicions stemmed from her visit to Bicks’s lavish home, and an old family photo on his wall. The man pictured next to a youthful Bicks could not have been Gary, but he certainly was the image of him. Darren, her private detective, had informed her that Bicks was Gary’s uncle; therefore the man in the photo was Gary’s dad. She remembered when they first arrived in Clacton how Bicks and Gary had behaved like strangers when they met. But why would they do that when Bicks was Gary’s uncle? Then there was the CCTV in the property office. Someone had distracted staff while Bicks wiped the iPad clean.

  But it was when she’d announced news of a witness that she had flushed both Bicks and Gary out. ‘Keep an eye on the team,’ she’d said to Donovan when she left, but Gary was already on the phone, warning his uncle off. Amy thought of all the phone calls she’d interrupted, how his guilt had signalled like a beacon as he flushed red. Then there were the leaks to the press from their station in Notting Hill. The witness who had been threatened in the shower block during their previous case. Had Bicks put him up to all of it? Or were they both rotten to the core?

  What surprised her was Molly’s reaction prior to Gary’s arrest. Amy caught the panic in her eyes long before they approached. Had she known they were coming for Gary? Amy prayed that her young protégée had not been involved. At least now they could talk on their own. The office was cooler today. The worst of the heat had passed. It would make the journey to London a lot nicer if it held.

  Amy nodded an acknowledgement to Molly as she sat in the hard plastic chair. Flipping two tubes of sugar, Amy tore them open and spilled them into the contents of her coffee cup. The coffee was lukewarm now, but much appreciated.

  Molly smiled nervously, suddenly tongue-tied.

  ‘Be honest with me, Molly,’ Amy said, staring her down. ‘What have you got yourself mixed up in? Is it Gary? Are you tied into all this? Because if you are . . .’

  ‘No, not at all,’ Molly interrupted, sitting bolt upright in her chair. ‘I was gutted to find out about Gary. I can’t believe how stupid he’s been. I remember when I was on FaceTime with Matty, and I came out to find him near the door. He’d been listening in all along . . .’ Molly’s words faded as her sense of betrayal became evident.

  ‘So, if it’s not Gary, then what?’ Amy leaned forward, her words firm. ‘Don’t make me prise this out of you, I don’t have the energy.’ She gave her coffee a stir before taking a sip.

  Molly pursed her lips as she bought a few seconds of time. ‘I’ve been ill for half of my life. In and out of hospitals since I was a baby.’ She stared at her hands, which were clasped tightly on her lap. ‘I had a heart transplant when I was twelve. I nearly died. That’s why Mum and Dad never took me anywhere. They’re very protective of me.’

  Amy remained silent, relieved that this was as far as her confession went.

  ‘Mum was scared I’d pick up infections, so she wrapped me in cotton wool.’

  ‘Is that it?’ Amy said. ‘Because you looked terrified coming in here.’

  ‘That’s bad enough though, isn’t it?’ Molly’s eyes flicked up towards Amy’s face. ‘You asked me in interview if anything was worrying me, anything that would cause you concern. I should have told you then. But I was scared you wouldn’t take me on.’

  ‘But you’re OK now?’ Amy relaxed into her seat as she sipped the rest of her coffee. She failed to see what Molly was getting so worked up about.

  ‘Yes, I passed my medical when I joined. But I should have been upfront with you.’

  But Amy simply smiled. ‘Why on earth did you think I wouldn’t let you join because of that?’

  Molly’s eyebrows knitted in confusion. ‘Because that’s how I’ve been treated all my life. Mum home-schooled me. I wasn’t allowed to go to parties in case I picked up germs. I couldn’t go on public transport. We didn’t go on holiday. But that was as much about her as me. My heart is strong.’ Slowly, Molly undid two buttons on her blouse to reveal a scar running down her chest.

  ‘And that’s everything?’ Amy said, as Molly rebuttoned her blouse.

  ‘But . . .’ Molly’s eyes moistened. ‘I lied. I should have been upfront.’

  ‘You should have,’ Amy agreed. ‘Because I could have put your mind at rest. I checked your medical records, Molly. I knew all about your transplant.’

  Molly’s lips parted in surprise. ‘But . . . you never said anything.’

  ‘Because I didn’t think it was relevant. But if there’s anything worrying you in future, you’ve got to come to me . . . Perhaps there was a time in Gary’s career when he could have done the same,’ she added sagely. ‘It’s not the trouble you get into, it’s how you handle it that counts.’ The words were said with authority. Amy had always held her hands up to any wrongdoings and faced her punishment head on. But a team without trust was built on shaky foundations.

  ‘I’ve grown up putting a brave face on everything.’ Molly’s words were tempered with regret. ‘Mum suffers from anxiety. I’ve always been the strong one. I coped with things by pretending they weren’t happening and focusing on the good.’

  ‘There’s nothing wrong with being optimistic,’ Amy replied. ‘But you’ve got to develop some better coping mechanisms than putting on a brave face. You can’t blame your mother for this. Do you think I’d be a good DI if I put my failings down to Lillian?’

  Molly shook her head.

  ‘Because your mum may be anxious, but at least she cares about you. You need to have this conversation with her, not me. Be honest with her. Stand on your own two feet.’

  ‘Sorry,’ Molly replied, her chin giving a little wobble.

  It pained Amy to see her reduced to tears. ‘Molly, stop apologising. You’re a brilliant investigator with a bright future ahead of you. But take my advice: be more Xena Warrior Princess and less Princess Bubblegum.’ Amy’s frown eased. ‘What have I always told you? As the only two women on this team, we need to have each other’s backs.’ She leaned forward, her eyes wide as she pressed her point home. ‘I’ve got your back.’

  ‘I’ve always thought Princess Bubblegum was pretty cool,’ Molly snickered, tears of relief trickling down her face. She quickly brushed them away. ‘Thanks. And I swear, I’ll come to you in future if anything is worrying me.’

  ‘Make sure you do.’ Amy’s words came on the tail of a sigh. She glanced at her watch. ‘We’re pretty much done here, apart from debrief. When that’s done, you can take the morning off. Get on a couple of rides, play those silly arcade machines.’

  ‘But . . .’

  ‘No buts.’ Amy raised her hand. ‘Just be back by two. Go on. It’s been a pretty emotional few days. We need you at peak form for when we start back at Notting Hill.’

  ‘Thanks, ma’am.’ Molly flashed a smile. ‘I appreciate it. And maybe we can talk about me renting your flat in Shoreditch when we get back.’

  ‘As long as you don’t mind sharing,’ Amy said. Her mind was already on Gary’s replacement. His betrayal had cut deep into the heart of the team. This time, she needed someone who was squeaky clean. Which is why she had a potential candidate lined up for his job. She would make Denny an offer he couldn’t walk away from. Where better to look for a new candidate than PSD?

  CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX

  Donovan gazed around the room in silence. Amy had taken over debriefing their officers along with CID, giving him some breathing space. It was hard to believe that up until recently his team were busily working here. His gaze fell to the desk where Gary had sat next to the window. It only seemed like yesterday that Bicks was standing here, ready to welcome the team in. It had been a good result, although not without its casualties. To think that Bicks was responsible for Carla’s death all along . . . His jaw clenched at the thought.

  Last night he had lain in bed, replaying Carla’s death over in his head. If only he had taken her call when she rang. He imagined Bicks waiting for Carla to turn up. He had access to his police radio, to local intelligence. He had his
ear to the ground. He knew pressure was on for her to make an arrest on her own. Carla had something to prove and Bicks had capitalised on that. But she was getting too close to the kids, and he could not risk her discovering the truth. Her turning up at his house had sealed her fate. Devious bastard, Donovan thought. Carla’s involvement was a mess Bicks was happy to clean up – as long as he came out of it unscathed. Then he would rotate the kids once more. It must have been a fly in the ointment when the vigilante killings began – or were they something to pin Carla’s death on? Just how deep did this run?

  He sat on the edge of Molly’s desk, tutting as he knocked her bag on to the floor. He felt like he was intruding as he picked up the items that spilt on to the thin carpet. Chewing gum, Post-it notes, a marker pen . . . His hand froze mid-air as a test stick caught his eye. Was that? It was.

  Delicately, he poked at the stick as he read the test. Two lines displayed a faded positive result. Pregnant. Molly was pregnant. No wonder she had been acting sheepish. And here was he, thinking she was gay. Guilt sank in as he realised what he was doing, prodding around in her personal things. If Amy caught him, she’d tear a strip off him, DCI or not. She had a soft spot for Molly and was fiercely protective of her team.

  Hastily, he picked up a packet of Tic Tacs and tissues that had fallen out of the bag. He slid the test back inside before placing everything back on Molly’s desk. Shit. If Molly went on maternity leave that was another member of the team down. He jumped as he heard voices in the corridor. He would keep this nugget of information to himself, at least for now. How Molly handled her pregnancy was her own business. He only hoped she would be OK.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN

  Sunday 1 August

  Amy had had a couple of sleepless nights worrying about her sister of late. But Sally-Ann seemed surprisingly relaxed as she greeted Amy with a smile.

  ‘Welcome back,’ Sally-Ann said, pushing a glass of Prosecco towards her.

  Amy felt good to be back in Notting Hill and her old haunt, the Ladbroke Arms. The pub was quiet at this hour, but cosy. This was a place of treasured memories. It was where Paddy met Sally-Ann, where Amy sometimes drank with her team, and where she also used to meet her father, when he was alive. It was a lucky place, and Amy didn’t want to break that spell after the week she’d just had.

  ‘It’s good to be back,’ she said, clinking her glass against Sally-Ann’s before taking a tiny sip. She had already ordered a mineral water. She needed to keep a clear head. ‘You’re being remarkably upbeat, considering how things went.’ They’d had little time to discuss their meeting with Rachel, given there was so much happening with the case.

  ‘Believe me, I’m not. Sometimes I wish I had taken your advice and left things alone.’ Sally-Ann’s eyes filmed over. ‘There might not be a future for me and Rachel . . . but at least I know she’s OK.’

  ‘Take what good you can from it.’ Amy eyed her sister stoically. She was not one to say I told you so. ‘For what it’s worth, you were right not to listen to me. You would have always wondered where she was.’ She watched as Sally-Ann tried to compose herself. Recent events had taken their toll.

  ‘I used to feel like a balloon in the wind, bobbing about with no real ties.’ Sally-Ann offered up a smile. ‘But then I found out about you and everything changed.’

  ‘For better or worse?’ Amy felt half-scared of her response.

  ‘Definitely for the better. And if I hadn’t found you, I would never have met Paddy. He’s been such a rock to me.’

  ‘He’s a good man,’ Amy agreed.

  A comfortable silence fell between them.

  ‘I don’t think I ever thanked you, not properly,’ Sally-Ann said eventually. ‘I put you through the wringer, and for what? To meet a young woman who can barely stand to look at me. My own flesh and blood.’ She exchanged a pained look with Amy. ‘It makes me question if it was all worth it, bowing down to Lillian. If I hadn’t stood by her during the trial, she wouldn’t be free today.’

  But Amy was ready with an answer, because she’d given it some thought too. ‘If I hadn’t got involved then there wouldn’t have been any trial. Honestly, sis, you could drive yourself mad thinking like that. Enough is enough. We owe ourselves a break.’

  ‘You’re right.’ Sally-Ann sighed. ‘But it needs saying. Thank you – for everything.’

  ‘How is the evil old windbag, anyway?’ Amy said, with a wry smile.

  Sally-Ann snorted a laugh. ‘Don’t ask me. I’ve cut all ties.’

  Amy’s eyebrows rose a notch. ‘Seriously?’

  ‘Yup.’ Sally-Ann’s face was fixed in determination. ‘You were right. I don’t need poison like her in my life. I’ve got what I wanted – my family.’ She raised the bottle of Prosecco and topped up her glass. But the situation didn’t match her words. Sally-Ann didn’t have a family, not without her daughter. But Amy could not spoil the moment by saying the words aloud.

  ‘Oh, hun, don’t feel bad for me,’ Sally-Ann said, taking in the expression on her face. ‘I’ll have my family in time.’ She took a deep breath. ‘I didn’t want to tell you until I was sure.’

  ‘Sure of what?’ Amy said, watching Sally-Ann’s face light up. ‘You’re not pregnant, are you?’

  Sally-Ann laughed out loud. ‘No! God, no, I couldn’t put myself through that.’

  Amy wasn’t surprised that Sally-Ann’s experience was something she would be in no hurry to repeat. She thought of Paddy, who had lost his daughter when she was tragically young. They would have made good parents. It was a crying shame. Yet her sister seemed upbeat about it all.

  Sally-Ann dipped her head towards Amy as she whispered conspiratorially, ‘I’ve applied to be a foster carer.’

  ‘Really?’ Amy had not expected that. ‘Paddy too?’

  ‘Oh yeah, he’s all up for it. I think he’s quite looking forward to it. We’ve had to jump through a lot of hoops, but we’ve been approved.’

  ‘Well, congratulations!’ Amy’s eyes widened, clinking her mineral water against Sally-Ann’s glass. ‘You kept that close to your chest.’

  A gentle smile played on Sally-Ann’s lips. ‘I was scared to jinx it, especially given where I’ve come from.’

  ‘So that’s why you cut off ties with Lillian,’ Amy said, as the truth dawned. ‘You’ll make great foster parents, the pair of you. Have you been allocated a child yet? I doubt you’ll be kept waiting for long.’

  ‘We have. In fact, you know him.’ Sally-Ann’s grin widened until she could barely contain herself. ‘His name is Matthew. Chatty Matty to his friends.’

  ‘Get away! You’re not serious?’ Amy pushed her sister’s shoulder, her mind spinning in disbelief. This had echoes of what her adoptive father had done, and it warmed her from the inside out. Robert Winter had attended the Grimes family home to arrest her parents, and later ended up taking Amy in. She had a good feeling about this. Matty would finally be in a good home.

  ‘We need to finalise some paperwork,’ Sally-Ann said. ‘But he should be coming to us soon. Teenagers aren’t as popular as babies. The agency said we’d be a perfect fit.’

  Amy was not one for physical contact, but she could not help but give her sister a hug. ‘I can’t believe it,’ she said, as they broke apart. ‘How?’

  ‘Much the same way your dad found you. Paddy came across him when you were investigating the case. Kismet, isn’t it? We didn’t think we’d stand a chance, but it seems that we do. I just hope he likes us. I’m so nervous. We’re meeting him next week.’

  ‘I gave my parents hell for the first few years,’ Amy said, remembering her swearing outbursts in the early days. ‘This won’t be a walk in the park,’ she continued, although not wishing to dampen Sally-Ann’s excitement.

  ‘We know. But we have a lot to offer someone who has lost their way. Everyone deserves a second chance – look how well you turned out.’

  Amy snorted. ‘That’s debatable.’

  Sally-Ann chuckled to herself. ‘
You know what Lillian said when I told her I was done? That I should find her old therapist and ask for her records. Then I’d understand.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘As if I’d want to read what goes on in her mind. Talk about nightmare fodder.’

  ‘Huh,’ Amy said. ‘Sod that for a game of soldiers.’

  But it was true. Lillian’s cruelty sprang from weakness. Amy cradled her mineral water as Sally-Ann topped up her own glass. Her sister didn’t know that Amy already had Lillian’s records. Each therapy session had been recorded at Lillian’s insistence. She had attended upon her release from prison, for all the good it had done her. There had been little remorse as she justified her actions to date. Amy could give Sally-Ann the paperwork. Lillian’s backstory would illicit a sympathetic response in the hardest of hearts. But it was time for her sister to move forward. Lillian’s reports would not see the light of day.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT

  Amy’s bed had never felt so welcoming, and she snuggled next to Donovan, tired and content after a long day. It had been lovely to catch up with her mum, Flora, who had cooked her speciality lasagne for them both. Home-cooked food and great company had gone down a treat. For once, Amy was looking forward to her rest days.

  ‘I meant to tell you,’ Donovan murmured into her hair, sounding half asleep. ‘I know why Molly’s been acting so odd.’

  Amy masked a yawn. She already knew.

  ‘She’s pregnant,’ Donovan continued, before she could reply. ‘I knocked her bag off her desk in Clacton. A positive test fell out.’

  Amy stiffened in his embrace. Of all the things she expected him to say, that had not featured. She extricated herself from his grip, turning to face him. ‘Have you told anyone?’

  ‘God, no. There was no one else about, so I put it back. I thought I’d leave it to you to find out what she’s going to do.’