by GS Rhodes
“Then why did you come back?”
“Because I knew Andrea was closing in,” Craig said, shaking his head. “She had people tailing me. I couldn’t stay anywhere for too long, I had to keep on moving. When the two of you showed up in Essex, I knew I’d run out of time. She would keep chasing me until my debt was repaid and…and I knew that you would help me if I came back.”
Kidd didn’t know whether to take that as a compliment or not. On the one hand, it was nice to know that Craig still thought of him that way, still thought that he could be of some assistance, no matter how small. But the other part of him knew that Craig came back to him because he would do whatever it took to keep him safe. And that scared Kidd more than he cared to admit.
“So there it is,” Craig said. “If you want to kick me out, I can keep on running. I’ve disappeared before, I can do it again. She’ll find me eventually, I know she will, but…” He shrugged. “I don’t know what else to do. I…I need your help.”
Kidd took it all in. He had wanted to know what it was that had haunted Craig for all of these years, what had caused him to run. And in a strange way, Kidd didn’t feel like he could blame him for wanting to get out when he did. He had gotten in too deep with people who’d said they were going to help him only to trap him, instead, and he’d needed a way out.
“Who were you on the phone to?” Kidd asked. “When I heard you on the phone, if it wasn’t Andrea, who was it?”
Craig scoffed, rolling his eyes. “I feel stupid.”
“Don’t feel stupid, Craig, who was on the phone?”
“People that knew Billy,” Craig said. “Who knew me from before. They promised not to tell Andrea anything and were true enough to their word. You were the one who sold me out to her.” There was a bitterness in his voice that Kidd didn’t like, a poison that didn’t taste so good when he was about to try and help him.
“Not intentionally,” Kidd replied. “Who are these people?”
“They know my sister and Samuel,” Craig replied. “They told me that I needed to go, that she was still after me. They’d heard her talking about it. They let me know it wasn’t over.”
“What about Billy?”
Craig bit his bottom lip and shook his head, tears threatening to start falling down his face again. He breathed in deeply through his nose, releasing on a shuddering exhale.
“They don’t know where he is,” Craig replied. “He vanished around the same time I did. No one seems to know if it was Andrea who made him disappear or if he ran, like me. I hope it’s the latter.”
“I wish you’d come to me sooner,” Kidd said quietly. “Even at the time, I could have helped you. There were ways out of this, Craig, you could have gotten out.”
Craig shook his head. “I couldn’t risk it, I just couldn’t.” He took a deep shuddering breath. “Will you help me? Can you?”
Kidd got to his feet. “Stay here,” he said.
“Ben, please, I need your help, I do, I—”
“I’ll do what I can,” Kidd replied. “Just stay here.”
He walked out of the apartment and back out onto the street, taking the short walk back to the police station at a slow pace. He cursed himself as he went. Even after all these years, he couldn’t find a way to say no to Craig Peyton. One way or another, he had to help him.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
On his way back into the station, Kidd fired off a message to John to tell him that Craig was safe in his flat, thanking him again for letting him stay and that he would explain things later. He didn’t respond straight away.
He’s just in a meeting, Kidd thought, trying not to let himself spiral just now. All of this was becoming too much. He had a case that he needed to focus on. If Weaver knew how much was going on in his life just now, he would sign him off again. That was the last thing he wanted.
The Incident Room was a hive of activity when he walked back inside, which Kidd was certainly grateful for. Simon and Campbell had gotten back to the office and were getting ready to update the team on what had happened with Phil Jackson. Now that, Kidd really wanted to hear. He got the impression that they’d been waiting for him.
“Coffee, sir?” Ravel asked as he took off his jacket.
“Yes, please,” he replied. He really was absolutely gasping for it. “Thank you, Janya.”
She hurried out of the room and Kidd made his way back to his desk, Zoe not taking her eyes off of him every step of the way.
“So?” she said as he sat down. “What was that all about?”
Kidd leaned back in his chair and put his hands over his face, letting out a groan. “It was a lot, is what it was.”
Zoe raised an eyebrow at him. “Something you want to talk about?”
Kidd opened his mouth to respond but quickly stopped himself. He had a lot of love and a lot of respect for DS Zoe Sanchez, both as a friend and as a colleague. He knew that the right thing for him to do right now would probably be to look up the case that Craig was referring to and hand him in, even if it was just so he could clear his name. But he didn’t want to do that. He really didn’t want to do that. He was in a tight situation and if Andrea and her husband had deep enough pockets to pay off a five-figure gambling debt no problem, they had deep enough pockets that they could get Craig into some serious trouble for this. Serious trouble that he didn’t deserve to be in.
He didn’t want to get Zoe mixed up in all of that. She was a great detective, one of the best that he had ever seen. She was smart, incisive, quick, and always did the right thing. And right now, DI Kidd knew that he was doing the wrong thing because he wanted to save a man that he once loved. He didn’t want her to be involved in that. He didn’t want her to get into any trouble because of him. Not if he could help it.
“It’s fine,” he said. “Craig is freaking out about seeing his sister because she’s upset with him about something. I…I could do without it right now if I’m honest.” He laughed and turned back to his computer screen, checking through his emails so he didn’t have to look at Zoe. He’d lied to her face. Maybe he would tell her about it eventually, but not just now, not if he could help it.
“Kidd, what aren’t you telling me?” Zoe asked.
“It’s personal,” Kidd replied. “It’s family stuff, it’s Craig stuff. It will fix itself, I’m sure.”
“Ben—”
“Zoe, don’t,” Kidd said, shaking his head. “I… I don’t want to talk about it. Actually, I can’t.”
Zoe eyed him carefully. “You know you can talk to me about anything, Ben,” she said. “I’m always here if you want me to be, you know that right?”
Kidd nodded. “Yeah, I do,” he said. “But not this. Just not for this, okay?”
“Fine,” she replied. “But be careful. I meant what I said, don’t do anything stupid, don’t do anything that’s going to get you in trouble.”
“Would I?”
“Yes, you absolutely would.”
Kidd laughed. Zoe at least cracked a smile, so he knew he wasn’t in too much trouble there. But he could tell that she was worried. He wished he could say that he wasn’t, but he had no idea what he was going to do next.
Once Janya had returned with the coffee, Simon and Campbell were ready to tell them what information they had managed to gather from Phil Jackson. Kidd listened intently as they talked about the state he’d been in, and the choice words he’d had when they’d asked him about Michael Earle.
“He talked about the old case too,” Simon said. “He had a watertight alibi at the time, apparently. I don’t know how exactly it never made its way to the case file but that’s what he said.”
“Okay,” Kidd said. “So where do we go from here?”
“He figures Michael is doing this as some kind of revenge,” Simon replied. “Which was your first thought, right?”
“It was,” Kidd said.
When Oscar had first come in, it seemed feasible that Michael would be looking for revenge on the people who had w
ronged him. Oscar hadn’t managed to stop him from going to prison after telling him to plead guilty, Phil had been his friend once upon a time and had ditched him after everything had happened. But after speaking with Michael, Kidd had been all too willing to leave all of that behind.
He wasn’t sure what to believe anymore. Either, one of them was lying, or both of them were to varying degrees. It was possible that Phil was involved and Michael was upset that he hadn’t gone down for it too, as Suzanne Grant had suggested, or that Phil was lying to try and protect himself as he had done eighteen years ago.
“But why do it now?” Kidd asked. “If it’s Michael, why did he wait until he’d been out of prison for a year?”
“Why would someone else want to do it?” Sanchez asked. “Michael is the only one with a reason to do something like this.”
“The only person we’ve spoken to,” Kidd replied. “There could always be someone else. It wouldn’t be the first time that we’d expected things to go one way only to find them going in the opposite direction.”
“I think you’re going soft and you’re trying to prove Michael Earle’s innocent,” Sanchez said. “Stubborn.”
“We’ll see,” Kidd replied. There was something about it that didn’t sit right with him. And he knew that at least he had Simon Powell on his side with this one. He’d read the case file. While Kidd was going on a gut feeling, Powell was going on actual written evidence, or a lack thereof.
The door to the Incident Room opened, DCI Weaver cautiously stepping inside. He caught Kidd’s eye straight away.
“DI Wool is here,” he said. “And he’s not happy”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Former Detective Inspector Dennis Wool was almost exactly how DI Kidd had imagined him. He was of average height, average build, grey hair that was thinning on top, and a sour expression that barely left his face for even a second. From the moment Kidd said “Hello” and introduced himself and Zoe, he looked bored and annoyed that he was even there.
They took him down the corridor to an Interview Room, sitting him down and making sure he was comfortable. Powell got them all tea, Kidd still nursing his coffee from a few moments ago. Kidd pressed record on the interview tape and Wool immediately sat up a little straighter.
“Oh, so it’s being recorded, is it?” he said, his voice coming through like rumbling thunder. “I didn’t realise it was something quite so formal.”
“We’re investigating a potential murder case, Mr Wool, it just makes sense that while we get your testimony, we record everything,” Kidd said. “I imagine what you’re about to tell us is going to be very important.”
The vague compliment wasn’t enough to placate him. He took a sip of his tea, winced at the taste, and turned his gaze back to the two officers. He pursed his lips, the lines around his mouth that had been embedded from years of smoking became a little more pronounced.
“Well?” he growled. “Are we going to get started? I might not be a particularly busy man, but I certainly don’t want to be spending the rest of my day here. At least, not if I can help it.”
“We’re going to get through this as quickly as we can, sir, don’t you worry,” Zoe said, opening up her notebook. He shot her a scandalised look. Kidd bit his tongue. Zoe looked like she wanted to leap across the table and deck him. Kidd would happily turn a blind eye.
“You’re here to talk about the Holly Grant case,” Kidd said. “I know that DCI Weaver has already filled you in on all of that—”
“Good officer, that Weaver,” Dennis interrupted. “Never thought for a second he’d make it all the way to DCI. Was always good at fetching me coffee. Never got my order wrong, not once.”
“Definitely the mark of a good officer, that” Zoe muttered.
“Like I said,” Kidd continued. “I know DCI Weaver has already filled you in on what we’re currently investigating. We just want to hear it from your perspective.”
“Why do you need to hear it from my perspective?” Dennis asked.
Kidd cleared his throat. “While the case file is extensive,” he said. “There are definitely parts of it that are lacking in detail, shall we say.”
“Lacking in detail?”
“And I think with your insight, we would be able to clear a few of those things up,” Kidd said. He wasn’t about to let this man rattle him, even though it was clear he was trying his best to. “Can you tell us in your own words about the case?”
“It was eighteen years ago,” Dennis said bluntly. “I can barely remember what I had for breakfast this morning, let alone something that happened almost two decades ago.”
“Another mark of a good officer, there,” Zoe said with a smirk.
“Watch your tongue,” Dennis snapped.
“Or what?”
“Anything that you can tell us that you think might be relevant would be useful, DI Wool,” Kidd said, raising his voice to come between the two of them.
“Can you be a little more specific, than asking me to discuss an entire case?” Dennis asked. “Like I said, I don’t want to be here all day, and maybe a few questions might help jog my memory.”
“Fine,” Kidd said. “Tell me about Phil Jackson.”
Dennis didn’t look fazed by the question. He looked more confused than anything else. “Who?”
“Phil Jackson,” Kidd repeated. “As I understand it, he was Michael Earle’s best friend at the time, apparently the two of them spent an awful lot of time together.”
“Why do you want to know about him?”
“Because there’s a rather huge gap in your case file surrounding Phil Jackson,” Kidd said. “So anything that you can tell us about him would be very useful.”
“I barely remember the lad,” Dennis replied. “He got mentioned by a couple of Holly’s friends I think, and Michael brought him up, but there was no point in talking to him.”
“No point?” Zoe echoed. “Why’s that?”
Dennis sighed. “I don’t know how much I appreciate having my work questioned by two young officers,” he said. “I paid my dues, I worked hard during my time in the force—”
“Working hard doesn’t mean you weren’t capable of making mistakes,” Zoe interrupted. “Why was there no point in talking to Phil Jackson?”
“There was no evidence pointing to him,” Dennis said bluntly, practically cutting her off. “You two must know what it’s like working in The Met. Above everything else, they want results. The ball had already been fumbled by no one properly looking into Holly going missing. When it came to solving her murder, we needed to work fast. Anything that wasn’t relevant, we left behind. Phil Jackson wasn’t relevant.”
“Based on what we’ve heard these past few days, I don’t think that’s true,” Kidd replied. “Him being mentioned in other people’s testimonies should have been more than enough for him to at least be questioned. I think you’re wrong.”
“I think you’re an idiot.”
Kidd’s eyes widened. “Excuse me?”
“I said, I think you’re an idiot,” he growled, leaning forward in his chair, his yellowing teeth grimacing at Kidd. “Are you after a promotion or something, Detective Inspector Kidd?”
“Hardly.”
“Really?” Dennis folded his arms and sat back in his chair. Kidd could feel the power shifting in the room, Dennis trying to take control of the situation any way he could. “Because this is just the kind of thing I could imagine someone like you doing to try and get a leg up on any competition. You after DCI Weaver’s job?”
“Not at all,” Kidd replied.
“Well, looking into an old high profile case, proving it was “mishandled,” sounds like a lovely way to get your name in front of the Superintendent in a positive light, doesn’t it?” Dennis tutted and shook his head. “I think you might be out of luck with this one, Kidd. There are a million reasons why it was Michael Earle who was responsible for that girl’s murder. You know it, and I know it. I did the right thing getting that ca
se brought against him.”
“How so?”
“He was a danger to everyone around him,” Dennis said, his voice bouncing off the walls of the interview room. “Who knows what he could have done if we hadn’t arrested him so quickly and gathered all of that evidence against him. But no. You want to play the hero. You want to rescue Michael Earle, from what? From himself? From the system? From a sentence he’s already served?” Dennis shook his head. “You’re living in a dream world, DI Kidd.”
“I’m doing what I feel is the right thing,” Kidd replied, though even he could tell that he was on the back foot in this situation. In spite of it all, Dennis Wool had gotten the better of him in this interview.
“If you were really doing the right thing, DI Kidd, you would have brought that man in the second you had the connection between the severed arm and the Holly Grant case,” Dennis continued. “But instead you decided to wait around, you went to interview him, talk to his parents, try and pick holes in an investigation from years past.” He shook his head, tutting again. It was starting to get on Kidd’s nerves. “The case was open and shut. Instead of shutting it, you decided the right thing to do was to blow it wide open and potentially put even more people in danger. I bet you’re very proud of yourself, DI Kidd. Very proud, indeed.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
“Ignore him,” Zoe said as they said their goodbyes to Dennis Wool. They left him at the reception desk and he walked out with a smile on his face. Kidd felt rotten.
“He’s not wrong though, Zoe,” Kidd said. “Here I am trying to dig into something that maybe didn’t need to be dug into. If I’d have just brought Michael in—”
“You tried to,” she interrupted. “You tried to bring him in but he wasn’t home. You had no proof he had anything to do with it, and last time you burst into a guy’s home unannounced looking for something that wasn’t there, you got in trouble for it.”
