‘You’ve found the cases he was talking about looking at?’ I asked.
‘Yep. I don’t know if they’ll be of interest, but, I imagine you’ll want to consider them anyway.’
‘Let me have them.’ I opened my major incident notebook, scribbled today’s date on top of the page and the time and waited for Evie to speak.
‘He was considering a woman who had two husbands and one died in mysterious circumstances. Not Nottinghamshire based. Then there was a farmer whose crop was poisoned, he was losing his livelihood and after he accused his neighbour the neighbour ended up dead. That one was Notts based. And finally he was interested in a gun that has been involved in four crimes, all crimes of passion but the weapon mysteriously disappears before it can be destroyed. That’s not even in the UK so I presume he was planning on travelling to research that one.’
‘Great, thank you,’ I said. ‘Another line of inquiry then. Each of these cases has to be looked at.’
The whole office seemed to quiver as everyone sighed. Another three investigations had just opened up to join the one we were running and that was a whole lot of work on top of the live case we had.
24.
Drew decided that a walk and some fresh air would do him good. He was too often cooped up in the house by himself. Yes, he had his housemate for company in the evenings, but he had his own life. He didn’t stay in every night like Drew did. He had a social life. He had friends and a girlfriend, or a couple of girls on the go. Drew wasn’t quite sure as he never saw them. He just heard them through the night and then in the morning as they washed and had breakfast or sneaked off in the early hours.
His own life was quiet. His friends had fallen by the wayside since the incident. The majority of them had made the right noises and said they believed his version of events but, with time, and not even with a respectable amount of that, they slipped away. They stopped texting, stopped calling. Didn’t check he was okay. Yes, the polite messages asking after him came in when he lost his job and then when he and Melissa split up, but that was it. It was an obligatory move to ease their own consciences. So they could soothe themselves later when they realised they had eventually abandoned him. They could tell themselves that they had done everything they could. Or at least, everything they could possibly do in the circumstances.
He drove down to the city, parking at a park and ride, and jumped on the tram to get into the city centre. The tram was half empty. An old man in a flat cap was sitting alone opposite him, his shoulders hunched up, rounded forward. The toes of his feet dipped downwards as he attempted to ground himself on the floor of the tram. He was a small man. Shrunken with age.
Was this what Drew had to look forward to?
A ding in the carriage alerted him to the next tram stop. The doors opened and the cold air whipped in. The old man shrugged into himself. Tried to make himself even smaller. A woman with three children under five climbed aboard and bundled them where there was room for all of them. Right behind Drew.
He clamped his jaw down.
He loved kids. If he didn’t he wouldn’t have done the job he had done, but today wasn’t the day for screaming kids. Little kids like these. Especially not after the morning he had had.
The tram arrived at the next stop with another electronic beep and he rose from his seat, happy to leave behind the rabble of children. The overwhelmed mother. The sad sunken little old man and the many other people going about their business.
He exited the tram on Market Square and took in a deep lungful of the cold November air.
This was where he was taking his walk.
Market Square.
A smile tugged at the sides of his lips. He looked around. If only they knew. Those people who were only here because of what had happened. The crowds that were here today, not all of them were the natural ebb and flow of people that would normally be on the square. There were people here who had been drawn just for the spectacle. For the murder scene. The closest they had ever got to the scene of a death.
How they decided in a morning that they would get up, get dressed and come and look at where a man was found stabbed in the side, was beyond him.
On the other hand, he had every right to be here.
This was his domain.
He had created this.
This was his image.
What they were here to look at, to stare at – it was all his creation. They wouldn’t be filled with this… what? Morbid fascination was one way of phrasing it. Looking at the knot of people over by the council building on his right, he would say there was a thrum of excitement. A grisly joy at getting this close. Because it was so public. It wasn’t inside a building the police could close off and stop them getting near. This was in the open. In a public place. Free for all to huddle around. To push and shove for the best vantage point for the instacrime photograph.
Arms were lifted in the air as fingers tapped at phone screens to capture the steps of the building where Sebastian Wade had been found.
There was nothing there now.
No dead body.
Drew moved towards the tangle of people that screened his view of the stage of his nocturnal activities.
What was it that remained?
What was it they were so fascinated by?
What had he left for them?
His chest swelled with pride. Then heat rose through him as anger grew. This was what he wanted to stop. To prevent.
Now he was getting caught up in his own story. He had to get it under control.
This wasn’t about him.
It was about them.
He pushed his hands into his pockets as the cold air pinched at his fingers. The trundle of the tram as it moved away behind him was a constant soundtrack to this area of the city. Climbing the few steps to the higher level of the square he continued forward, frustration gnawing at him as people pushed and shoved around him. Moving around. Some were doing their daily business and some were headed in the same direction as he was.
‘It’s just over here.’
‘Left on the steps.’
‘Do you think he’s still there?’ one girl whispered to a huddle of friends as they moved towards the building.
His clenched teeth ground together.
What was it with people?
Finally he was in front of the building.
It felt as though all the air had been let out of him, like a balloon shrivelling up in the air when it had been let go. His heart shrunk in his chest. His breath hitched in his throat.
He clawed at his top buttons, pulled down on them. Tried to get some air.
For all the people taking photographs, there was nothing here.
Drew had expected something. Some remnant of the scene. Some reminder that he had been here. That he had made a statement.
There was nothing.
People were crowding, were photographing, nothing.
It was the council building steps as they always were.
It was as though Drew had never been here. The large and extravagant display was no more.
Wiped away.
And yet… He blinked in the cold dry air, and yet, the people, they continued to crave what he had delivered.
Instead of shrinking away in horror, they were here, trying to get as close as they could. To be a part of the story.
If that was what they wanted, then he would give them it.
He would make them part of the story.
He would make them the picture.
25.
The Occupational Health department was a small one-level building, in fact it was a temporary building that had gained permanent status over the years. Tucked away at the back of headquarters. Tucked into a shaded area, down a dirt track, down the steps, hidden away.
It was almost as if they were ashamed of themselves, thought Aaron. Being Occupational Health. Ashamed of the issues that were brought here. The stress and depression that officers very often brought through the doors. Though he kn
ew probationers also came through these doors for their initial health checks. It held an air of secrecy, of hiding away.
Some may say, it was peaceful.
Aaron thought it was secreted. Hidden. And everything that came with those two words.
This made him uncomfortable.
It wasn’t a good start to his appointment, that he already had these two words inside his head.
Secreted.
Hidden.
They clicked into place and spun around on repeat as he walked down the long ramp towards the glass door. Damp soiled leaves underfoot from the tree canopy.
Secreted.
Hidden.
He couldn’t remember the last time he had had to attend occupational health. If he was to hazard a guess he would probably say it was when he was a probationer. And that was way back in his history. At forty-one the days of learning to police seemed so far off. There had been so many experiences between then and now.
Secreted.
Hidden.
Aaron pushed on the glass door and entered the small waiting area. Pressed the buzzer at the tiny rectangular reception window for attention. He just wanted to get back to work.
A young woman, slim in a red jumper and black trousers came to the opening, a smile on her face. She opened it. Smiled again. Aaron waited.
‘Oh, who is it you’re here to see?’ she asked.
‘Aaron Stone to see Doctor Willis.’
The young woman smiled again. ‘He’s expecting you, take a seat, he won’t be long.’
Secreted.
Hidden.
26.
I managed to shove a couple of painkillers down my throat before there was a brief knock on my office door and then it was pushed open. I looked up. Aaron was standing in front of me. I couldn’t get out of my seat fast enough. I was about to rush around the desk and hug him but stopped myself in time as I cleared my chair. Realised my contact wouldn’t be welcome.
‘Aaron!’ I practically screeched, instead. ‘It’s great to see you.’ It was. So good. ‘How are you?’ Instead of reversing back into my seat I continued forward, slower though and grabbed one of the two chairs that were in front of my desk. I pulled it away slightly, so as not to crowd him.
Aaron smiled. ‘It’s good to see you.’ He took the empty chair and sat. ‘I’m good. Ready to come back to work.’
I took my cue and sat myself. ‘I’m so glad. We could really do with you around here.’ I couldn’t tell him about what Baxter had said. Could I? Would it help to tell him? Would we be able to do something about it together, if he knew? Keeping him in the dark, well, what good was that doing?
‘I went to Occ Health this afternoon.’ There was a smile creeping across his face as he spoke.
‘And?’ I prompted.
‘I have a clean bill of health.’ There was a fleeting frown. ‘Which I had anyway from the hospital.’ And then the smile returned. ‘Which means I can come back to work.’
‘That has to be the best news I’ve heard all day.’ And it really was.
‘They’ve signed me off immediately.’
‘Can I get you a drink?’ I stood, my stomach churning.
‘I don’t want a drink.’ There was a puzzled look. He knew me. The years we had worked together, he had learned to read me. Even if he didn’t always understand the emotions behind how I behaved, he had learned to read the signals and know if there was something amiss.
‘Is there a problem?’
What should I tell him? I so very desperately wanted him back and I wanted to fight Baxter with this. Just not at the expense of Aaron’s health. He was going to find out in some way. Which would be the better way? Through Baxter being a twat, or me trying to resolve it with him?
‘Baxter is being Baxter,’ I said.
‘In what way?’
I sat back down in the chair. ‘Remember what he was like before you had your heart attack?’
Aaron was silent a moment. I gave him the time to think back and to process. Fiddled with a strand of hair that was falling in front of my face. Then pushed it out of the way. Looked Aaron in the face.
‘I need you back on the team though. We picked up the Market Square job.’ I scratched at my head. ‘I’m presuming you heard about it on the news.’
He nodded.
‘And there’s so much work involved. I need you by my side to help me run this. It’s huge, Aaron. I can’t do it without you. No matter what Baxter thinks or wants.’
‘What did he say?’
I flicked some lint off my trouser leg. Then scratched at the invisible mark it had left behind. ‘He thinks the position might be too stressful for you with your heart.’ I paused. ‘Oh, Aaron, he’s not right, is he? You said Occ Health said you could come back to work, but is it restricted?’
One of the traits I liked about Aaron was how calm he was, even when I was getting myself worked up.
‘No. It’s not restricted duties. I can come back to my usual role. And because Occ Health have said that, then Baxter doesn’t have a leg to stand on.’
I let out a breath. ‘Why the hell didn’t I realise that?’ A big grin spread across my face.
It was mirrored by Aaron. ‘Because you get too emotional about the subject first without thinking it through.’
‘And this is why I need you by my side.’
‘So, tomorrow then.’
‘What about Lisa and the kids?’
‘I think she’ll be glad to get me out of her hair. I may have been a little bit much for them in the house this past few weeks. Don’t tell her I noticed.’
‘She was worried sick about you, you know.’ I looked at him and waited for him to return my gaze. ‘We all were.’ A small, barely perceptible nod. ‘The team will be thrilled to see you.’ I smiled. ‘Tomorrow.’
27.
It was Saturday, but we were at work and it was early.
I used the stairs instead of the lift to get to our floor, fully expecting to be the first one in, as I usually was, but as I strolled down the corridor I saw a light on in the incident room. Not that the whole room was lit up, but a small light was glowing from one corner. I moved towards the room, wondering who had made it in before me, and on a Saturday of all days. It wasn’t as though we had something major planned today. It was an investigative day ahead of us, but one we couldn’t afford to take off at this early stage in the case.
Pushing the door open my heart lifted as I saw Aaron hunched over his desk. From here I could see the narrow wires sneaking over his shoulders and into his ears. He was wearing his earphones. I smiled.
It was great to see him back and in such a familiar position. Even if it was this very item, his earphones, that had rubbed Baxter up the wrong way in the first place.
Aaron needed his earphones to keep him calm when the noise levels got too much for him in the office, when he wanted to focus on his work and drown out the sound of his colleagues. He was diagnosed with Asperger’s and this simple act of listening to music, or audiobooks, or podcasts – I hadn’t actually asked him what he listened to – helped him immensely and it wasn’t detrimental to anyone else.
I approached him now and leaned into his view slightly. He turned, pulled out his buds.
‘Morning.’ I smiled. I really was happy to see him.
‘Morning,’ he replied.
‘You beat me in this morning.’ I nodded to his desk.
‘I thought I’d check, to see if I needed to catch up with anything. See how bad my email inbox was, but I see you had it switched off in my absence.’
‘Yes, I contacted IT. I didn’t want your return to be bogged down with emails.’
‘Thank you.’
‘It’s so good to see you.’
‘You only saw me yesterday.’
‘I mean at work. This is where you belong.’
‘It’s good to be here. I think Lisa breathed a sigh of relief, though she really did fuss this morning.’
I laughed. ‘She was
up in time to see you off this early?’
‘Oh yes. There was no way she was going to allow me to walk out that door to work without checking I was okay and handing me the lunch she had packed me.’ He grimaced.
‘She packed you a lunch?’
‘For my heart.’
‘Ah.’
‘Enough about that. Are you going to get me up to speed with this job we have in?’
‘Shall we go and put the kettle on while we talk it through then?’ I started to move away from his desk, not waiting for a response. He knew I needed a drink of green tea to get me going in a morning. As I walked into the kitchen Aaron followed me in and then, as I flicked the kettle on, gently dropped his mug on the worktop at the side of mine.
I filled his mug with a splash of milk. ‘Did you contact Baxter?’ I asked.
He stayed quiet.
I turned and looked at him, sitting at the small circular table pushed up against the wall. ‘You didn’t?’
‘This is my job. This is where I work. No one has told me otherwise and Occ Health has passed me fit to be back at work. As far as I’m concerned, there are no issues with me being here.’
He had a point. If it wasn’t for the conversation I’d had with Baxter neither one of us would have known that Baxter wanted Aaron out of the department.
My phone vibrated in my pocket. I frowned. It was still early. I pulled it out and looked at the screen. Six forty-five a.m. Message sender was Zoe.
I pushed the phone back into my pocket without checking the message.
‘Not reading it?’ asked Aaron.
‘It’s Zoe.’
‘Same question.’
The kettle started a slow hum as the element heated up.
‘She paid me a visit a couple of days ago.’
‘How did that go?’
‘I’m not interested, Aaron.’
‘She’s your sister.’
I was well aware of that fact and had often wished that she wasn’t. ‘Is that supposed to mean something?’ I asked. ‘You know what she did. I nearly lost my job because she stayed with me and left her bloody drugs at my place.’
The Twisted Web (Detective Hannah Robbins Crime Series book 4) Page 8
