“I’m still here, you know,” Benson shouted.
“We’ve had words,” Cooper said.
“Super! Is that it, words?”
“You think I should poke him in the eye or something?”
“You think this is funny?”
“Shut up, Lisa.” Cooper took a pace towards her. “Right now you don’t want to know what I think is funny.”
Benson stood.
She squinted. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Alright you two—”
“Shut it, Benson! I said what’s—”
“I think your mind’s not on the job.”
Benson stared wide-eyed at Cooper. “Boss,” he warned.
“What did you say?” Lisa stood and glared at him.
Eventually he smiled and then left the room. Benson sauntered after him.
Lisa was dumbfounded, and then sank into her chair.
* * *
Ros stood outside the office. It was like a kindergarten in there, everyone shouting over each other, pointing fingers, making threatening remarks. Through the glass and the small gap in the door, the odd word, the odd sentence even, made it clear to her what had happened. And then, when Jeffery barged out of the office and ragged snipes ricocheted around the walls at full volume, it left her in no doubt.
Like a dumb robot, Ros turned and followed Jeffery into his office. He had his back to her, hunched over his desk, and then suddenly she heard an electronic rendition of a recognisable voice.
“Congratulations! You’ve found me. Don’t leave a message ’cos I won’t reply anyway.”
“Eddie, it’s Jeffery from work. Nothing to worry about, but could you ring me as soon as you get this message please? Thanks.”
“They took him, didn’t they?”
Jeffery spun around, “Ros. I… No, I’m sure he overslept or…” He walked towards her and gently took her by the arms, guided to her to the seat by the wall and sat her in it, crouched before her. “No one knows, Ros. But I’m sure it’s something simple.”
“Are you? After what they said?”
“Speculation. And bluster. They haven’t a clue.”
“But what if they’re right?”
He smiled at her, a fatherly smile, concerned, yet not entirely comfortable. He looked as though he were about to break some bad news. “Why don’t you go home? I’ll let you know soon as we get in touch with him. Promise.”
She shook her head, looked away. “I’ll stick around.”
“I could run you home; you’d be there in twenty minutes—”
“I said no. Thank you. I’d rather stay here.”
“What’s the matter, Ros?” The fatherly smile had gone now. “You look awful.”
She tried to stand but he put his hand on her shoulder. “Nothing,” she said. “Maybe a cold coming on or something.”
“Ros, have you heard from him? Is there something you’re not telling me?”
Now she looked confused. “No,” she said. “I haven’t heard from him at all, that’s why I asked you!”
* * *
And then James rolled into the office with eyes that came straight out of a vampire movie; bloodshot, tired, and droopy. He didn’t make small talk; he sat at his desk and began work straight away, thinking of nothing but getting the hell out of here and crashing into bed where he’d stay for the next fourteen hours.
The next time he looked up, a crowd had gathered around him.
“Well?” Jeffery asked.
James dropped his pen, instantly looked worried. “Have I done something wrong?”
“What did you get from Eddie’s house?”
“Probably some rather nasty disease, actually. It’s filthy!”
Lisa stepped forward, “Has Eddie been back to his house?”
James added confusion to the worried look. “Erm, no,” he said. His eyes shifted one person to the next, “What’s going on, why is everyone staring at me?”
* * *
An hour later, James’s chair was empty. His exhibits, an LCN swab from a 9 mm shell he found in the bedroom, a poor-quality footwear mark from the outer surface of Eddie’s front door, and a set of photographs, were going through the mill of exhibit processing, and James was already at home, several fathoms below the surface when Cooper called another meeting with Benson, yawning, and Lisa, spiky.
“I’m worried that Eddie has been snatched by them,” he said immediately.
Lisa stared at him, Benson stared at her.
“I’ve got the financial boys working on tracing any credit card movement; I’ve got a nationwide PNC report circulated for his car, including ANPR awareness. Any other suggestions?”
“Division,” Lisa whispered. “Have you passed it to them?”
“Yes.”
“Well that’s all you can do then.”
“Not quite all,” Cooper said. “What do you think of us contacting Slade Crosby directly?”
“What? Are you out of your mind?”
“I used to like you when we first met,” Benson said. “Now you’re downright rude.”
“You’re calling me rude?”
“Why not contact him?” Cooper asked again.
“Because he’ll laugh at you, he’ll accuse you of carelessness, losing one of our CSIs. It’ll give him a psychological advantage over you.”
“He’s got that advantage anyway, I’d say,” Benson said. “He killed Angela Charles when no one else could even find her.”
“And you really expect him to tell you?”
Cooper shrugged.
“What about your men? You must have someone inside Crosby’s empire.”
Cooper shook his head. “I did have, Tony Lambert. Now I have no one in there.”
“Shame,” Lisa looked away.
* * *
“I think you’re safe.” Lisa checked in the rear-view mirror, keeping a watchful eye out.
“I knew I was.”
“I mean he’s just told me he has no one inside your organisation.”
“Ah, righto, that’s good to have it confirmed. But I always knew we’d winkled out the last of ’em when Pearson, or Lambert, or whatever his name was, went down.”
“Thought you’d like the confirmation.”
“I appreciate that,” Slade said. “Now what have you really called me for?”
Lisa sighed. “I need the job bringing forward to this week.”
“Impossible.”
“Please. You have to try otherwise it’s all been for nothing. I lose everything.”
After a long pause, Slade said, “Tell you what we’ll do; you get me that name we spoke of last night, and I’ll work on bringing the plans forward. I ain’t saying it’ll happen, but I’ll give it my best shot.”
Lisa tapped her fingers on the steering wheel, wore a grimace as he spoke to her and stared hatred towards the Bluetooth mic hanging down from the overhead console. “I’ve done more than enough for you over the last few weeks—”
“Let me remind you of your last sentence… ‘I lose everything’, I think it was.”
“I can’t just—”
“Get me his killer’s name!”
The mic clicked as Slade put down the phone, and Lisa slapped the steering wheel.
She took a full half an hour to compose herself before she could pluck up the courage to go back inside. For all she knew, her cover might already have been blown out of the water, and Benson could be there waiting with the cuffs.
* * *
Inside the main MCU office, Jeffery was hunched over a desk on the phone to someone, and his hand was covering his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. Ros watched him closely. She couldn’t hear what he was saying, indeed, he’d looked across at her twice, and turned away deliberately so she couldn’t hear.
Eventually, he replaced the receiver gently and then walked calmly over to Lisa’s office and closed the door.
Ros couldn’t stand it any longer. She had stayed at her desk all morn
ing, grumbling at the pain in her back, shoulders and knees, but consistently refused to go home. And now she knew Eddie was missing, she wouldn’t even entertain the notion of leaving – she needed to be here when he phoned in all apologetic. Drunk probably, she had to admit. But even that was better than…
It was obvious Jeffery had heard something and she wasn’t prepared to wait for the grapevine to swing into action. Ros got to her feet and ambled over to Westmoreland’s door, knocked and entered. They both stared at her, and that made her feel worse, “Well?”
Jeffery licked his lips, “They found a receipt in a B&B he stayed in last night. He’d bought whisky.”
Ros smiled instantly, and exhaled the breath she’d been holding. “Thank God.” He’s pissed as a fart somewhere, but that’s good, he’ll show up soon enough—
“There’s something else too.”
Now Ros looked up at him, down to Lisa who sat behind her desk looking pensive. “What else?”
“We found his car abandoned up in North Yorkshire.”
“Oh my God, no.”
Lisa coughed. “There is a cut cable tie in the back seat.”
Ros looked confused for a moment, and then dismayed.
“Look,” Jeffery whispered, “we have no idea what’s happened, Ros. No need to jump—”
“I’m not stupid, Jeffery. I can work out for myself the implications of that.”
“Want me to drive you home, Ros?” Lisa asked.
“For the last time, I am not going fucking home!” Her chin was trembling, and Jeffery opened the door.
“Come on,” he said, “out. Let’s grab a coffee.”
“I don’t want—”
“I said out.”
* * *
As they dragged Eddie’s Discovery onto the back of a recovery lorry, a police dog van slewed its way through the mud towards some dense woodland up a track that was mostly overgrown but had obviously been used recently.
Of course, with the heavy rain overnight and that which persisted even now, the tracks were of no forensic value even if they’d led anywhere important. The lane was dead-ended by thistles and nettles and thorn bushes, a small outcrop of rocks, and then an expanse of mud before the trees abruptly began. They’d already told him where to look, so it wasn’t going to take him long, which was fine by him in this pissing weather, but being told the location kind of took the challenge out of it. It would have been nice for them to have given him some coordinates and left the detailed bit to him. He liked a challenge and so too did Deefer.
Deefer whined in the back, and eventually, with the van wheels spinning, he elected to stop and they’d walk from here. Deefer leapt from the van and was off. He smiled and walked at a more relaxed pace.
In less than twenty minutes, they’d found two freshly dug mounds of earth. There was blood too, trapped in creases of earth, in wrinkles in the sides of rocks where the rain couldn’t wash it away.
Chapter Thirty-Six
— One —
Ros woke with a customary headache and he was staring at her.
“Hello, sleepy-head,” he smiled.
Ros ignored him and tried to turn over, but he’d placed a hand either side of her body, almost pinning her to the bed by the quilt and he seemed reluctant to release her. She opened her eyes fully then, and tried not to make a fuss, even though she suddenly felt claustrophobic, hot and trapped, with his god-awful face less than a foot from hers. She was breathing the same air he’d exhaled, and it smelled rotten.
“How you feeling?”
“Achy still.”
“You need a doctor?”
She shook her head. No, what she needed right now was for him to piss off to work, to get out of her life and leave her the hell alone. Unlikely though. “What time is it?”
“Half six. You up to making breakfast?”
“I have to go into work.”
“I rang them already.” He smiled even wider now, and she noticed his teeth, the blackness between them, the cracked lips. He was slowly turning into a horror movie all by himself. She heard him shriek, Here’s Johnny! and closed her eyes. “Got you the day off.”
“You what?”
His smile faltered. “I can’t work,” he said, “been rained off again. So I thought, since you were under the weather, we could…”
“What? We could what?” Now the quilt wasn’t tight enough around her, she pulled it up to her chin.
He merely nodded at the bed, sickly suggestive smile on his face, slimy, slug like.
She shuddered. “I have to go into work, I’m working on something,” she tried to pull the quilt aside, but he held firm.
“They said you could take the—”
“I’m not taking the day off, I have some important—”
“Not so long ago, you’d have jumped for joy at not going in.” He paused, then said, “I might begin to think you didn’t want to spend the time with me.”
She closed her eyes, wishing she had the strength to just tell him the truth, wondering why it wasn’t obvious to him by now! “Of course I do,” she lied, “but I’m really involved with this case—”
“What case?”
“I can’t tell you that, Brian. You know—”
“How convenient: you’re really involved with something, but can’t tell me what.”
“You knew all that when we first met—”
“Nothing to do with Eddie Collins then?”
Her heart stopped, and all of yesterday’s fears tumbled back into place one by one until she felt as scared for him now, as she had yesterday. “What do you mean?”
He leaned close, nuzzled her ear and her neck, and she shivered, felt nauseous as he grunted like a pig. Just as she could feel bile rising in her throat, he pulled away and stood up. “You mentioned him in your sleep last night.” He folded his arms.
She swung the covers aside and climbed out of bed, and hurried to get inside yesterday’s clothes that she’d thrown over the back of the chair. She had no time for showers and tarting up her hair this morning, not even time to get out some fresh clothes – she just wanted to be out of this house. “Nonsense, Brian,” getting as far away from this creep as quickly as possible was the only priority right now, “I’m just worried about this job I’m on. It’s going wrong, I can feel it,” and how the thought of never coming back thrilled her, but how the thought of being stopped by him scared the life out of her, “and if I don’t act soon, then…”
“Then what?”
She was dressed now, mouth felt claggy still, eyes full of sleep still, but she had to leave, had to get away from him. It had become progressively harder to stay in the same room as him, but if he suspected her feelings for him, her true feelings – how could he not, she thought – then he would cage her up and chain her to the sodding wall and torture her until she died.
She shrugged, “Don’t really want to think of that,” she smiled. And then she surprised herself, as she wrapped her arms around him, sank her face into the side of his neck and kissed him. There was a part of her brain that had shut down, the tender part; it had closed for business so that the survival part of her brain could score points with Brian, so it could earn her safe passage away from him, at least temporarily. And had she not done that, showed some counterfeit affection, she may not even have made it out of the front door.
As it was, he returned the hug, even pulled away slightly so he could look at her, searching the feigned affection in her actor’s eyes, and then he kissed her.
The survival part of her brain went into emergency mode, and she was able to return the kiss, blotting out the night spent in cold water in the bathtub, blotting out him fucking his bit on the side. Blotting out the fact she was scared of him, that she hated him, that she detested him.
She pulled away then, and smiled up at him, and she could tell he was convinced by it all. Her only concern now was that he’d force her to undress again and climb back into bed. She turned away before he had the chance, but he
caught her by the arm, and she felt like screaming. Her heart pummelled, the needle on the Emergency Department gauge wavered around the red segment of the dial, and she was ready to collapse and just give in.
“You just be careful out there,” he said. And he appeared to say it with sincerity.
Bollocks, she thought.
“Be home on time, eh?”
She nodded. “Do my best.”
“I mean it. You don’t want another night in the bath, Rosaline, do you?”
And then she was gone, down the stairs, out of the front door, car keys rattling in her shaking hand, and she shuffled saliva around her mouth, cleaning away the taste of him, before spitting it all out on the grass.
— Two —
He’s going to kill me. That was her overriding thought as she swiped her card and let herself into the main office at a little before seven-thirty. There were lights on in Westmoreland’s office and in Jeffery’s too. Even farther along the office, she could see a glow through the blinds in Cooper’s office as well. But it all meant roughly nothing to her as she took her seat and turned on the computer, staring out of the window into the car park below.
Rain hit the window, and trailed yesterday’s dirt down it so that the muddy smear on the sill outside shimmered.
There was a feeling of hopelessness in Ros’s mind now; it had persisted throughout yesterday, and had coalesced overnight, and now it was almost solid, like the pool of mud on the sill. And it dragged her down into a darkness, a blackness where nothing else really mattered. Her fear was for Eddie – entirely. Of course, the troubles at home were real too, they ring-fenced her fear for Eddie with a thousand shiny spears, but the blackness was more powerful and infinitely more severe.
“Ros?”
Her head snapped around and she saw Jeffery approaching. He looked like he hadn’t slept much either. At least he had fresh clothes on this morning, a new tie, dark blue – conservative, like his demeanour, and his shoes, as always shone, but his eyes did not. He looked solemn.
“News?”
He sat next to her, no smile, no How are you? just an appraising stare. “I hate to say it, but you look like shit.”
Black by Rose Page 28
