by GS Rhodes
“Christ, I hate it up here,” Zoe said as they stepped inside. You could see the dust particles floating in the air when a glimmer of sunlight managed to force its way through the mostly closed blinds. It smelled like no one had cracked a window in here for the best part of a decade. “Why haven’t these been digitalized?”
“Because it would take them about a thousand years to do it,” Kidd said, taking a sip of his coffee. “Come on, the sooner we get started, the sooner we can get back downstairs and fill in the rest of the team.”
“Don’t you think they should be up here helping us?” she asked.
“Probably,” Kidd replied. “But do you really want Campbell going through all these boxes? He’ll leave them in an even worse mess than we found them in or get distracted by a totally different case. Hurricane Campbell.”
“‘Hurricane Campbell?!’” Zoe repeated. “He’s not that bad.”
Kidd turned his attention to her, his face twisting in confusion. “Don’t tell me you’re going soft, Sanchez. I thought we had a united front over Campbell being a bit of a nightmare.”
“We do,” she replied. “But he stepped up during the last couple of cases, he’s been less annoying. I mean, the time you took off aside, he has been. Honestly wanted to throttle him these past two weeks.”
“That’s better,” Kidd said with a smirk. Campbell wasn’t all that bad. He was enthusiastic, he was dedicated to the job, but sometimes his mouth would run before his brain could stop it. That meant he would chime in with something stupid or make a joke at exactly the wrong moment. But even Kidd had to admit that in the past six months, he had warmed to Owen Campbell. Not that he would tell him that, of course. He wouldn’t want him getting a big head.
They moved through the boxes, trying to make sense of the filing system, until they at least managed to reach the year that they were looking for. It was eighteen years ago that it had happened, which felt like a lifetime. So much had changed in that time in terms of the way that they did things. New policies had come in, commissioners had come and gone, legislation had come in, been implemented, been proven to be absolutely bloody ridiculous, and removed several times over.
Kidd and Zoe picked a box each and started to rifle through them, case by case, folder by folder, trying to find what they were looking for.
“So,” Zoe said as she put another case file to one side. “How was your time off?”
“My time off?” Kidd repeated. “It was really great actually. I got to spend a lot of time with John, which obviously made me very happy. I saw you, and got to watch you interrogate John about his intentions, which was a little bit weird but certainly entertaining.”
“And Craig?” It was a leading question.
Kidd much preferred to keep his private life out of the police station. There were times when he simply couldn’t help it, like at the tail end of their last case, but when he could, he liked to keep his two lives separate. Things got messy otherwise. But Zoe Sanchez was his closest friend. They had known each other for almost a decade, and while they had worked together for almost all of that time, they had cultivated a relationship outside of work that meant she had special privileges when it came to his personal life.
That and the fact that Zoe had always had a way of getting information out of Kidd when she wanted it. He suspected it was what made her such a good police officer.
“Craig has been there,” Kidd replied.
Zoe sighed. “So you’ve still not managed to get out of him where he’s been for the past two years?”
“No,” Kidd admitted. “Though, I’ve not actually tried.”
“Ben!”
“I know, I know, John is already on my back about it, you don’t need to be as well.”
“I’m not trying to get on your back about it,” she replied, putting her hands up. He hadn’t meant to snap at her like that. “I’m just saying that it’s still something that makes me nervous and I know you well enough to say that this is the kind of thing that would keep you up at night. Am I right?”
She was. She definitely was.
“In truth,” Kidd said. “He hasn’t really been around a lot. He’s been staying with me, obviously, but most of the time he’s been making himself scarce or seeing Andrea. I think he doesn’t want to get in the way of me and John. After what happened a few weeks ago, I don’t think he wants to come between us.”
Zoe nodded. “That’s a positive at least.”
“What is?”
“He has obviously recognised that you’re happy without him,” she said flatly. “I’m not saying that he came back here for you, but the fact that you were the first person he got in contact with, the first person he came to find when he has a whole family who thinks that he’s dead, says something, don’t you think?”
Kidd nodded.
“But seeing you with John, maybe he’s realised that you’re better off without him,” she said. “I’m not saying you guys weren’t happy once, but you’ve moved on.”
Kidd nodded and turned his attention back to the case files. He had moved on. It was what Liz had been telling him to do for such a long time but he just couldn’t let go. Even Zoe had said on numerous occasions that he needed to “get some.” It was one of the few times that Kidd had reminded her that he was her superior at work, and one of the few times that she had told him to fuck off.
He had held onto Craig for such a long time after he’d vanished, even when he was fairly sure he was never coming back. The last thing holding them together, the final page of their story together, was where he had vanished to. He needed to know. He needed that closure. And the longer he didn’t know, the worse the idea of it was in his head.
“Got it,” Zoe said, pulling out a hefty case file, a few ancient elastic bands barely holding it together. “Jesus Christ there’s a lot in here.”
“High profile case,” Kidd said. “Hopefully there’s something in there we can use.”
Once more coffee had been acquired, the two of them went back down to the Incident Room and informed the rest of the team of exactly what it was Oscar had said, presenting them with the case file that looked more like a weapon than police documentation.
Kidd could feel the excitement bubbling under the surface in the room. It had given them a direction beyond waiting for forensics and everyone seemed to be keen to get started. Soon the entire room was full of noise, people watching old news reports, listening to old radio interviews, and drawing up a list of people that were connected to the old case, and who could even be part of the new one.
Kidd braved the case file. He knew it wasn’t going to be pretty, but even he wasn’t quite prepared for what he saw.
There were photographs of the individual body parts, found and photographed not far from Michael Earle’s house. Then there was the photo of Holly’s body, limbless, torn apart, down by the riverside in Twickenham. It had just been dumped there, carelessly, like Michael had panicked. Perhaps he’d realised what he’d done and tried to just get rid of it. Maybe he thought he would manage to get away with it because Holly had been missing for a couple of months at that point. But all fingers pointed to him. From the case file, it all seemed pretty cut and dry.
A phrase popped out at Kidd. “Armed and dangerous.” He sat up a little straighter, his heart pounding. That was what had been carved into the arm that had been sent to Oscar Harkey. It was a common phrase, of course. It could even be considered a cliché when it came to describing criminals, but it must have been put on that arm for a reason. It was obviously something that had been used to describe Michael, maybe when they’d been trying to track him down. All fingers appeared to be pointing at him once again. Or at least to someone who was mentioned somewhere within this report.
“Boss?” Ravel piped up. She had a pair of headphones on, her gaze fixed on her screen. She looked at him, her eyes wide. “You might want to have a look at this.”
Kidd headed over to her desk, Zoe and Campbell following suit. There w
as a video on the screen, a little bit old, a little bit grainy, but it was news footage from the BBC. The family of Holly Grant—Mum, Dad, little brother—all of them stood behind a solicitor who was announcing the verdict of the hearing to the press. Though they certainly didn’t look well-rested, they looked relieved, elated even, at the news that Michael had been sent down for life for the murder of Holly Grant.
“We’re going to need to speak to them,” Kidd said, hurrying back over to his desk and flicking through the case file quickly. “They live just outside of Twickenham, not a million miles from here. I’ll chat to Weaver, see if he can put us in touch.”
“Can’t imagine they’ll be too pleased to be hearing from us,” Ravel said.
“Why’s that?”
“A couple of interviews that they gave prior to this one had them calling out the police for making a meal of it,” Janya replied. “We took too long to get started on the investigation, Holly’s disappearance was never treated serious enough, I think there was even a point where they were considering taking legal action.”
“What stopped them?”
“The conviction, I imagine,” Zoe chimed in. “If we got the right man, it probably put their minds at ease. Maybe they just didn’t want to dredge it up anymore.”
“That would make sense,” Kidd said. He was starting to wonder what more could be found in the case file. Oscar Harkey seemed pretty convinced that Michael Earle was innocent, maybe there was more to all of this than he thought.
“So we’re going to go round there and dredge it up some eighteen years later?” Campbell asked. “Is that a good idea?”
Kidd took a heavy breath. He knew that it would cause some upheaval. This was clearly a difficult time in their lives, why wouldn’t it be? But if this new case was in any way connected, and Kidd had a hunch after talking to Oscar Harkey that it was, then it was all they really had.
“Probably not,” Kidd admitted. “But we’ve got to start somewhere. Unravelling this tangled case might be the best place to start.”
“I’ve got one more thing to unravel over here boss,” Powell said, clicking frantically on his computer before turning his screen to them all, a blown-up photo of Michael Earle on the screen. “Michael Earle was let out of prison for good behaviour just over a year ago.”
CHAPTER TEN
There really wasn’t any time to waste. Kidd handed the case file off to Simon to look through, and update the board with anything that might be useful. And if there was anything untoward within those pages, Kidd more than trusted Powell to find it. It was good to have him back on the team.
“What now?” Zoe asked.
“I’m going to go and talk to Weaver about talking to Michael and getting in touch with Holly’s family,” Kidd said. “Can’t imagine he’s going to be pleased about that, but…” There really wasn’t much else to say, whether Weaver wanted them to or not, they needed to dig into this and dig into it fast. Their morning had already been taken up by interviewing Oscar and finding the case file, they needed to step to it now they actually had something to go on.
He left the Incident Room and headed down the corridor to Weaver’s office. He knocked—polite, cordial, completely unlike his usual self—not wanting to start his conversation off with the boss on the wrong foot. Weaver had a tendency to blow his top when Kidd pushed his buttons and it was one of the rare occasions where Kidd wasn’t looking to do that.
“Come in,” Weaver growled from behind the door.
Kidd stepped inside and Weaver’s eyes widened at the sight of him. His pen hovered over a notebook, frozen in motion.
“Bloody hell, Kidd, I didn’t expect to be seeing you,” Weaver said. “You’re not usually the knocking type.” He narrowed his eyes at the DI. “What do you want?”
“Giving you an update, sir,” Kidd said, taking a seat across from Weaver who was eyeing the DI curiously, cautiously, almost like he knew that Kidd was about to ruin his morning. “We’ve made a bit of progress.”
Weaver put the cap back on his pen and placed it on his desk, folding his hands in his lap and leaning back. He took a heaving breath. “Go on,” he said.
He filled DCI Weaver in on what Oscar had told them that morning, the potential connection with the Michael Earle case from almost twenty years ago. He then filled him in on the case file they had found, and on the last piece of information that Simon Powell had dropped on him that kicked Kidd into action.
“So what are you thinking?” Weaver said.
“The obvious thing is that Michael is sending these things as some sort of revenge,” Kidd said.
“But you think it’s too easy.”
“Something like that,” Kidd replied. “So I want to go and talk to Michael Earle about it, figure out where he is.”
“You’re not going to bring him in?”
“I don’t have enough to bring him in,” Kidd said. “I’d be bringing him in on a hunch and that could cause us no end of trouble if I’m wrong. I want to talk to him and, if possible, I’d like to talk to his family about what happened.”
“What happened on a case that was solved eighteen years ago?”
Kidd nodded. “Yes, a case that appears to be rearing its ugly head again, wouldn’t you agree?”
Weaver considered this. He didn’t look like he was about to tear DI Kidd a new one, but he didn’t look too pleased either.
“I don’t necessarily agree,” Weaver replied slowly. “Though I can see why you’d think that.”
“Alright then,” Kidd said. “If you can see why I would think that, then you understand why I want to go and talk to him.”
“Kidd—”
“If it has nothing to do with Michael, then we’ll find out and rule him out,” Kidd said. “But Oscar Harkey was spooked and was convinced that this was similar. This is just the beginning of the investigation, boss, we’re just trying to figure out exactly who is in the frame and who isn’t.”
“Kidd—”
“Oscar’s given us something to go on,” Kidd interrupted again. He could see that Weaver was getting a little agitated behind his desk, but he didn’t seem to be listening to what Kidd was trying to say. “And it would be the right thing to do for us to follow that lead, wouldn’t it?”
Weaver opened his mouth to speak once again, but seemed to think better of it. He sat up a little straighter and leaned forward in his chair, his eyes locked on Kidd and burning with the fire of a thousand suns.
“I’m not about to tell you not to go and talk to him,” Weaver said. “You are, of course, right that you need to be doing your due diligence and checking in on every single possibility. But,” —Kidd knew what was coming before the words even fell from DCI Weaver’s mouth— “I don’t want you going in there all guns blazing and spooking him.”
“Quite an assumption there, sir.”
“Based on your previous track record,” Weaver replied. “If he does have something to do with it, I don’t want you intimidating him—”
“Boss—”
“And making this whole investigation harder for us.” Weaver was suddenly in control of the conversation and Kidd felt very much on the back foot. “Or prompting him to do something drastic.”
“I won’t, sir, you have my word.”
“I am not sure that’s worth much at the moment, Kidd. I’m sorry to say that but it’s true,” Weaver replied. “If he’s not involved and you go in there like a bull in a china shop then you could get all of us in the shit.”
“Sir—”
“Send another member of your team, Kidd,” Weaver interrupted, putting a hand up to stop Kidd from speaking. “I don’t want to hear another word about it. For once, I just need you to listen to me and trust me, okay? I’m doing this, not just for your own good, but for the good of your team.”
Kidd considered snapping back, considered arguing, but even he knew that it certainly wouldn’t be worth it. He took a breath before he started speaking once again.
�
�I’ll send Campbell and Ravel,” Kidd said. “Happy?”
“Thrilled,” Weaver deadpanned. “Anything else?”
“One more thing,” Kidd said. “I want to go and talk to Holly Grant’s family.”
“Kidd—”
“It’s due diligence, sir, just like you said,” Kidd interrupted. “I’m trying to get details, trying to figure out what happened all those years ago and what’s happening now. If Michael Earle has anything to do with it, then they deserve to know, don’t they?”
Weaver opened his mouth as if to respond, instead stopping himself to take a deep breath. Kidd couldn’t tell if he was about to completely lose his rag or just needed a moment to process it.
“I don’t like it, Kidd,” Weaver said quietly, shaking his head. “It was many years ago, as you said, and I don’t want to cause that family any more upset than is necessary.”
“We’ll be careful, sir,” Kidd said. “We’ll tread carefully, we’re just trying to do the right thing here. The sooner we can count these people out and put this to bed, the better. Then we can look at this with a fresh pair of eyes. But until Michael Earle and the Grants have been spoken to, I’m not doing my job.”
Weaver hesitated again. There was something hanging in the air between them, something that Kidd couldn’t quite put his finger on. Like there was something that Weaver wasn’t telling him. It wasn’t a feeling that Kidd particularly enjoyed.
“Fine,” Weaver said. “If you think it’s the right thing to do, if you think talking to them will help, then by all means. If you need a family liaison officer, just let me know, okay?”
“Yes, sir,” Kidd said, remaining in his seat for a few more seconds. He watched his boss carefully as he picked up his pen and went back to what he’d been working on. Weaver eventually turned his attention back to Kidd.
“Is there something else I can help you with?” he asked.
“No, sir,” Kidd replied. “Just feels like there was something else you wanted to say, that’s all.”
Weaver seemed to hesitate once more, and it was enough to make Kidd sit up a little straighter. But nothing came. Weaver let out a breath and gave Kidd a tight-lipped smile.
