The Autumn Tree (DI Bliss Book 8)

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The Autumn Tree (DI Bliss Book 8) Page 21

by Tony J. Forder


  ‘Did she leave a note?’

  ‘She did. You know Emily.’

  ‘What did it say?’

  ‘What if it was personal?’

  ‘Oh, just tell me, you tosspot!’

  Bliss smiled at her impatience. ‘She said she loved me. That she probably always would. But she also said that no matter how we feel about each other, we want different things from life. She was glad we’d been honest enough to talk about whether we could make it as a couple, and that neither of us is to blame that we don’t have it in us to succeed. She wished me love and happiness in the future, and hoped I wished the same for her.’

  Chandler put a hand to her chest. ‘Aw, really? That’s so… so…’

  ‘So Emily. I know. She uses few words, but they say everything.’

  ‘What brought all this on, Jimmy? Did you see it coming?’

  ‘I did. And as usual it’s mostly my doing. But I’d rather not discuss it right now.’

  ‘Okay. I understand. I’ll call her later, see how she’s doing. Probably get more sense out of her, too. How are you? How do you feel about it all?’

  ‘I’m torn. Part of me thinks I ought to wallow, another part of me is grateful for the time she and I had together but accepts it simply ran its course. And most of me realises I have an investigation to run.’

  ‘Not any more you don’t. It’s Bish’s investigation. Remember?’

  He nodded. ‘Of course. But still our investigation to work. My head is too much in the game to think outside it. Maybe that’s why my conversation with Emily went so pear-shaped.’

  ‘You can’t blame it on that. Whatever your issues, it didn’t go wrong because your mind was suddenly elsewhere.’

  ‘It didn’t?’

  Chandler raised her eyebrows. ‘No. It went wrong because your heart wasn’t there. Not enough of it, at least.’

  ‘And you know this based on what I just told you? You’re a better detective than I give you credit for.’

  ‘That’s true. But I know because I’m a woman, not because I’m a pretty shit-hot detective.’

  ‘Are you claiming to be pretty and shit-hot, or pretty shit-hot?’

  ‘The first one, of course. You had to ask?’

  Bliss let out a long sigh. ‘Ah, I don’t know what I’m doing any more, Pen. The moment I take a step forward, I’m taking another back again. I’m going nowhere fast, but I don’t seem to be able to slow down enough to make proper decisions. There’s never enough time in the day.’

  Chandler winced. ‘I feel responsible somehow. I forced the relationship with Emily on you at a time when you weren’t prepared.’

  ‘No, it’s not your fault. I said it was mostly my fault, but in truth I agree with Em when she says nobody is to blame. You’re right to say I wasn’t ready. I always knew what we had together suited me more than it did her. I thought it might last longer than a couple of months, but if you think about it, it’s the most time we’ve ever spent together despite knowing each other for fifteen years. We put an awful lot of faith in what we had at the beginning, hoping to resurrect it somehow. She was both married and widowed during those intervening years, whereas I… I’d hardly moved on at all.’

  ‘Not in the way she needed you to, perhaps. You’re a different man in many other ways, Jimmy. And though I won’t say you’re stuck in the past when it comes to your personal life, neither have you moved on a great deal; I probably should have realised. I think I was hoping you’d finally found someone. You and Em felt like the perfect couple.’

  Bliss nodded. ‘I know what you mean. Thing is, I’ve got maybe twenty to twenty-five years left, and most of that is going to be spent not working. You know better than most what the job means to me, so when I thought about the future I realised I hadn’t yet reached the point where I could see Emily as being part of it right to the end. She saw it differently. And she didn’t have any confidence in me ever to reach that stage.’

  ‘Is she wrong?’ Chandler asked. ‘Because if she is, it’s not too late.’

  ‘I honestly don’t know,’ he admitted. ‘But it is for the best. I think it tells us everything we need to know when I say I’m not even remotely sad about it.’

  ‘Tell your face that, then.’

  Bliss raised a fist. ‘You want a mouthful of teeth?’ It was a line from an old Steve Martin and John Candy film. It always made them chuckle. Chandler gave him a playful punch on the arm, and they moved on.

  ***

  Encountering virtually the entire team in the major incident room came as no surprise to Bliss; only John Hunt had failed to show, which also came as no surprise. He immediately informed the team about the discovery of their potential new lead, Sara, and described his subsequent conversation with Yeva Savchuk. He did not linger on where or how they’d run into each other, instead explaining that he had spotted her on the street in town with Marta Lsenko and had offered them a lift home.

  ‘Marta was meeting somebody at O’Neill’s, but Yeva accepted my offer. She’s living over in Cardea. It gave the two of us a chance to chat. I mentioned Sara, and thankfully Yeva not only knows her but is willing to contact her on our behalf. She’s going to try to set up a meeting.’

  ‘To what end?’ Bishop asked. ‘You think she’s likely to tell us more than we already know?’

  ‘Marta gave us plenty of colour; what she described was horrific. But to hear it first-hand rather than through a third party might make all the difference in how we assess our approach. Also, in addition to my fears that her next such encounter might be with our killer, there’s also the distinct possibility that they’ve already met. Our man might well see these women a few times before he acts. If he becomes a regular, they’re bound to let their guard down around him.’

  ‘What if he already has her?’ Chandler said in a low voice. ‘After all, if he follows his previous pattern, we can be confident he’s taken somebody. There’s every chance it could be her.’

  Bliss dipped his head. The thought had already occurred to him. ‘It’s possible. Hopefully we’ll know one way or another come Monday, or possibly even sooner. But there is another reason why Sara might be useful to us: she might be able to give us some names. Other girls who allow choking. Perhaps even a girl who’s not been seen for a few days.’

  ‘Sounds like a plan,’ Bishop said. ‘You can handle that with Pen. In the meantime, where are we with this Dark Desires website? Any closer to knowing where it operates and who runs it?’

  Ansari had been sitting, but now got to her feet. ‘I’ve been in contact with our tech people at Hinchingbrooke. I’ve also spoken to a guy Glen Ashton put me onto at the NCA. They both said they’ll do what they can when they can, but no promises. They have heavy workloads of their own, and this is a tough ask.’

  ‘Because it’s hidden?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Could we try using the black card?’ Bliss suggested. ‘I think we know what to expect. We could talk to county, ask to borrow an undercover legend. Use it to pose as a potential client. We know our way in if we can get our hands on the spreadsheet; perhaps one of our tech people can find a way deeper. Even if it proves to be a dead end, we will have established communication. Tech support or the NCA might be able to trace the other end of that contact stream.’

  Bishop nodded immediately. ‘The boss is in. I’ll have a word with her and ask for authorisation. We may need Superintendent Fletcher to step up on our behalf, because I think we’d require an entirely clean legend for this to work. Clearly the people running Dark Desires have their heads screwed on. They must vet potential clients as forensically as we would. We know their tech can be high end, so we have to assume the people running it use those skills to ensure nobody slips through the cracks.’

  ‘You mentioned the NCA… Any idea why Ashton isn’t with us today?’ Bliss wasn’t sure why, but he had expected more of the investigator.

  ‘None. Perhaps he’s happy with his involvement so far.’

  �
�All the same, he needs to be advised as to where we are. I don’t want him doing his own thing and getting in our way.’

  ‘I’ll notify him,’ DC Gratton offered. ‘I’ll give him a buzz first, and if I get voicemail I’ll leave a message telling him to check his e-mail. I’ll send him all of our updates at the same time as I do the case log.’

  Bishop nodded. ‘Cheers, Phil. Ask him to run anything he has by us before he acts on it. Remember, there’s a good chance this is all being fed back to DI Kennedy in Cambridge.’

  Bliss clicked his fingers. ‘Wasn’t I supposed to be doing that? A daily report? Completely slipped my mind.’

  Chandler chuckled. ‘Of course it did, Jimmy. Of course it did.’

  He spread his hands. ‘We can’t all be perfect. Anyway, fuck him.’

  ‘Any other loose ends we can tie up at the moment?’ Bishop called out, clapping his hands together to draw his team’s attention. ‘Anything on phones, CCTV, this clean-up crew who went to our victim’s flat? Please tell me we have some movement here?’

  The response was muted. Mobile phone data had been promised for Monday; Ansari and Gratton were due to work on CCTV feeds; nobody had anything on the clean-up crew. Uniform had visited Tim Beaumont to show him Wilma Parkinson’s DVLA photo, but the landlord had claimed not to recognise her as the woman he’d spoken to.

  ‘What d’you think, Jimmy?’ Bishop asked. ‘Is Beaumont worth another chat? Have him in here this time, apply a bit more pressure?’

  Bliss shrugged. ‘You were there, Bish; your guess is as good as mine. Personally, I think we got everything from him. But if you want him pulled, I’m happy to have another crack at the bloke. I’m assuming it won’t be under caution.’

  ‘Not at this stage, no. I agree – I don’t think he held anything back. He was a bit slippery and trying to cover his arse, but there’s probably nothing else there beyond dodgy business practices.’

  ‘Nothing out of the ordinary in Rassooli’s financials, either,’ Chandler said. ‘Plenty of regular cash payments, but no large sums in or out other than her monthly rent. And no movement at all in two weeks. Another dead end, sorry to say.’

  ‘What was her final transaction?’ Bliss asked.

  Chandler riffled through some notes. ‘Shopping at Tesco.’

  ‘Local?’

  ‘Yes. Serpentine Green.’

  ‘Okay. I suppose that at least adds to the timeline we have for her. Shame it’s not more.’

  ‘I do have one new item,’ DC Ansari said. ‘It doesn’t actually take us any further, but it could yet lead to an opening somewhere down the line. Yesterday I took photos of the labels on our victim’s clothing and had Constable Maynard chase up the retailers or manufacturers to see if they were able to narrow the items down to particular batches. My hope is that if we’re able to get that far, we might also be able to trace the purchases themselves. A tough ask, and Maynard was unable to obtain any firm answers as of yesterday evening. However, I looked at the Met’s package of intel to see what they had on items of clothing; to their credit, they’d done the exact same thing. What they got back was a mixture of results, but surprisingly positive in terms of tracking the items down. Some were confirmed as having been purchased by the first three victims. But here’s the truly interesting aspect: each of the items listed as not belonging to any of the known victims was paid for with cash.’

  ‘That’s good work, Gul,’ Bishop said. ‘So the obvious next question is: where were they bought?’

  Ansari smiled. ‘North London. A Matalan in Wood Green.’

  Silence reigned for a few seconds as the team took in this new information. Bliss quickly ran through the different permutations before realising the opening this created. He looked across at Ansari. ‘Gul. It seems to me that if the Met were able to identify the store and the cash payments, they were also able to follow through to time and date. Time and date allied to in-store security cameras surely gives us footage of the customer in question.’

  Ansari was already nodding. ‘Correct. But this brings us back to the part where I said it takes us no further – yet. The person caught on camera paying for the clothes is a woman. What role she has – if any – is unknown, and so is she. The Met were far too late to trace the cash, so there was no possibility of obtaining prints. The purchases were made almost a year prior to the first murder. The woman could be connected to our killer, or she might even be a victim we’ve yet to discover. But the unidentified piece of clothing found next to Majidah wasn’t purchased at the same time. So, what I’m hoping is that it was bought elsewhere, perhaps even here in Peterborough. If so, it might give us a better lead.’

  Bliss huffed in frustration. So close, but no cigar. Ansari had done good work, as had the Met, but while their efforts had forced open another thread for the investigation to follow, it had ultimately unravelled. If they could not identify the woman who purchased the clothing from Matalan, they had no way of tying that loose end off.

  Thirty minutes after Bishop had thanked everybody and brought the briefing to a close, Bliss took a call from Superintendent Fletcher. The pleasure of his company was requested, only her actual words were: ‘Get your arse up to my office!’

  Every time he entered the third floor, Bliss was reminded of his previous encounters with the upper echelons of the police service. They had not always gone as well as he had liked, but in Marion Fletcher he had found a superintendent who almost always put the job in hand ahead of her personal ambitions. At most places of work, people tended to hate their bosses; that was the natural order of things, and the service was no better and no worse in that respect. But he had come to like and admire the DSI, and was already feeling disappointed that he had clearly upset her again. Enough to have her come into the station on her day off.

  Dressed casually in blue jeans and a maroon hooded sweatshirt, Fletcher was staring out of her office window when he entered. In the reflection he saw stern features, and his heart sank a little deeper.

  She turned, thumbs hooked into her pockets. ‘I’ve had my opposite number over at Cambridge central on the phone to me, Jimmy,’ she said. ‘Do you have the vaguest notion why?’

  He puffed out his lips, but decided a shrug might be too much. ‘Not really, ma’am. Are they looking for a progress report, because I’m pretty sure that went out last night?’

  Fletcher regarded him for an uncomfortably long time before replying. ‘Let’s start again, shall we, Sergeant? Assume I’ve asked that same question for the first time. Your response would be…?’

  Bliss felt himself slump on the spot. ‘All right. I confess I’ve not yet got around to updating DI Kennedy. As the Americans like to say, “my bad”. Thing is, ma’am, it’s not as if they don’t know what’s going on. Glen Ashton is filling them in on a daily basis, I suspect.’

  ‘Suspect or know?’

  ‘Obviously I can’t know for sure. However, you’d have to be a fool not to realise what’s going on. I understand my reporting back to the DI was one of the conditions of us being allowed to run with this case, but as having Ashton thrust upon us was also a part of that deal, you have to assume he’s telling them everything.’

  ‘So we’re relying on suspecting and assuming, are we? Not good enough, Jimmy. Not good enough by a long way. You and I both know it was the possible link to Drake that swung things in our favour. With that connection looking increasingly unlikely, I don’t know how much longer I can fend them off.’

  ‘With respect, ma’am, we don’t know how likely or unlikely it is. We have a strong lead to a dark website which might still prove to be owned by Drake’s organisation. And we have the Met’s blessing to continue with their own case. In my opinion, we have more than enough to keep Operation Phoenix running.’

  Fletcher gave a resigned sigh. ‘Then it’s a good job I said as much and got Cambridge to back off. Not down, but off. That means they are still sniffing around in the background, so tread carefully. And please do DI Kennedy the small
courtesy of at least calling him.’

  ‘I will, ma’am. You can trust me on that.’

  ‘Really. I can trust you, can I? Why, then, am I hearing today about a complaint being made about you by a member of the public?’

  Bliss became instantly wary. It was not the time to tiptoe around pretending he had no idea what this was about; it was time to get out in front of it. ‘If this is about Neil Watson, I can explain.’

  ‘I have no doubt about that. I’m sure you will if I order you to. And perhaps some of what you tell me will even be the truth. But here’s the thing, Jimmy: as of next Friday, I am on annual leave for two whole weeks. While you’re all here freezing your private parts off, I’ll be sunning myself on a beach in Barbados. What that means is, I won’t be here tinkering with budgets or pulling together crime stats or, heaven forbid, managing crimes. More importantly in your case, Jimmy, I won’t be here to protect you from yourself. So while I can make this complaint go away, I won’t – I’ll simply set it aside until I return. Meanwhile, I don’t think I wish to be burdened by the precise details of whatever vendetta you’re pursuing this week.’

  Bliss blew out some air. ‘Understood, boss.’

  ‘But you should not regard that as permission to get your kicks in before midnight on Friday, either.’

  ‘As if I would.’

  Fletcher’s gaze turned icy. ‘We both know damned well you would. Jimmy, learn your bloody lesson for once and stay away from the man. I don’t know everything you have going on with Watson, but I can tell it’s not going away easily. That said, I’m ordering you to make it easier – on everybody, but especially you. If you ignore my instruction, it will be DCS Feeley you’ll be dealing with and not me. I think we both know what that means.’

 

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