High Pressure

by Sam Blake

  ‘And nobody else has keys?’

  Brioni felt her mouth go dry. Something big was happening here. Had they news of Mar?

  ‘I’ve no idea, sorry. They’ve got a cleaner and a gardener – they might have keys. Or a neighbour? What’s going on?’

  ‘We have some concerns that the incident that occurred here yesterday could be linked to an ongoing investigation.’

  Brioni looked properly at the man on the doorstep, frowning. He seemed to be in his late forties, but was very good-looking; he reminded her of George Clooney somehow. Something about his demeanour conveyed a level of authority; he was obviously in complete control.

  ‘You mean the bombs?’ Brioni could hear the question in her own voice.

  ‘I’m Chief Inspector Mike Wesley. Come outside and we can have a chat. We need to take more detailed statements from everyone who was present here yesterday.’

  Brioni stepped out onto the doorstep, her stomach clenching.

  What was going on? Why were there so many police?

  As she stepped outside, he turned to the officer behind him.

  ‘Right, lads, it’s all yours. And we’re playing catch-up.’

  Brioni took a step into the drive to get out of the way, and a stream of white-suited forensic technicians filed through the front door, carrying huge stainless-steel toolboxes.

  ‘We need to have a chat down at the station. I can give you a lift.’

  It took Brioni a moment to work out why she recognised the chief inspector’s name, but now she had it.

  ‘You’re Anna’s friend? She mentioned you.’

  Brioni followed him to a patrol car that had pulled up across the drive. Just in front of it was a white van, its doors open. Two more men were leaning inside, manoeuvring what looked like a tent out of the doors.

  Snapping back to what she was doing, Brioni realised that Mike was holding the rear door of the police car open for her.

  ‘Sorry.’

  She slipped inside and he got into the front passenger seat, a uniformed officer already occupying the driving seat.

  Brioni climbed in, reaching for the seat belt.

  ‘Anna just tried to call me.’

  Mike Wesley looked at her as he fastened his own seat belt.

  ‘She’s waiting for us at Islington. They have the facilities we need. We’ll be co-ordinating this investigation with them.’ He paused. ‘I’m very sorry your sister is missing. We’re doing everything we can to find out what her movements were on Thursday.’

  He said it with absolute sincerity, and Brioni could see exactly what Anna had meant when she said he was nice. It was a bit of a general term, but the way she’d said it had conveyed exactly what she meant. He sounded as if he really cared. Brioni cleared her throat.

  ‘Thank you, that means a lot. Is this all because of Marissa going missing? I mean, as well as Steve.’

  She indicated the activity on the drive. An officer was standing at the gate, logging everyone who passed him on a sheet on a clipboard. And there was a lot of coming and going.

  ‘In all honesty, we’re really not sure yet. In this job you can’t rule anything out. When you found Steve yesterday, you mentioned you could smell petrol.’

  Brioni screwed up her face. Coming around the corner of the side passage and seeing Steve was an experience that she wasn’t going to forget in a hurry.

  She nodded, ‘I thought he’d been doing something in the garden and spilled some or something.’

  In the seat in front of her, Mike twisted around to look at her.

  ‘The tech who attended found traces around the base of the tree. It’s unfortunate the officers on the scene weren’t a bit sharper and followed the correct procedure, but we’re stretched to the limit at the moment.’

  ‘What does that mean?’ Brioni leaned forward. ‘He spilled some when he filled the lawnmower?’ She paused. ‘But they’ve got a gardener – I met him. Steve’s not the type to get his hands dirty.’

  ‘From the spatter patterns on his trousers, it’s looking like he was doused in petrol.’

  Her eyes wide, Brioni looked at him, shocked.

  ‘How …?’

  ‘It’s possible you interrupted whoever it was. That they heard you coming and hid in the garden while the services arrived.’

  ‘Fuck.’

  ‘I wasn’t far off that thought myself. We’ve got Anna Lockharte to thank that this has escalated as fast as it has to a murder investigation.’

  Chapter 34

  Dalton Hargreaves could feel Thelma looking at him in disbelief as he paced up and down the kitchen behind New Hope’s Community Centre. Outside, the fete was in full swing, the sound of a tannoy wafting in through the open back door over the shrieks of children on the bouncy castle. Whatever Thelma was thinking, right now Dalton knew he couldn’t stop moving. He’d seen some shit in the Middle East, had lost his best mate, but he rarely got upset or agitated. She was always saying he was the most chilled person she knew.

  But not today. Today was different. Ever since Thursday, everything had been different.

  ‘Can you stand still, sunshine? It’s like you’re wired to the moon and it ain’t one going around this planet. You taken something?’

  He shook his head. ‘Sorry, T. It’s not knowing that’s killing me – it’s just killing me. You know what she’s done for me.’

  He shook his head and, stopping in the middle of the counter, braced his hands against it, as if it was an effort to keep his body still. A second later he could feel his leg starting to jiggle. It was as if he couldn’t control his body today, as if there was too much information, too much emotion, and his circuits were overloaded. He didn’t know what to think or how to feel. Anger surged inside him like a wave, and as it receded, he was left empty, lost. Like a wrecked ship.

  Thelma leaned forward on the end of the counter, her face creased in a frown.

  ‘Just run that all by me again – vans and squad cars and half the bloody Met? At Mar’s house?’

  Leaning with his hands spread apart on the counter, Dalton nodded slowly as if he was reliving the scene, his face taut.

  ‘I wanted to check on the hanging baskets, and to see if Steve had heard anything before it all kicked off here with the fete, but when I got there the place was heaving.’

  ‘And did you see Steve?’

  ‘I didn’t go in. There were cops everywhere, forensics and a meat wagon outside. There was a guy on the gate checking everyone.’

  ‘But how do you know it was Marissa? I mean, all that has to be a body, doesn’t it? There’s no way they’d bring out that many forensic guys for a lost kitten, is there?’

  Dalton shook his head, trying to hold on to his emotions.

  ‘They wouldn’t say – just that there had been an incident and they had sealed the house.’ He paused. ‘Do you think he did something to her and used the explosion to cover it up?’ His voice wavered.

  ‘Christ knows. And I don’t know who we can ask to find out.’

  Thelma ran her hand across her face. Dalton knew they were all as worried about Marissa as he was, Thelma had been on to everyone she could think of, asking if they’d seen her.

  He cleared his throat. ‘I went down to Islington nick to see if I could find anything out. That’s where the guy at the gate said to go. They wanted me to give a statement.’

  ‘You went down there?’ Thelma took a step backwards, shaking her head, her long earrings swinging free from her hair, dragged in a ponytail. ‘You’re fecking lucky they didn’t arrest you.’

  ‘I haven’t done anything …’

  He looked at her, frowning. Thelma gave him a reproachful look.

  ‘OK, yeah, you’re right.’

  He hesitated for a moment, fear adding to the maelstrom of emotions. Were they going to try and pin something on him?

  Thelma interrupted his thoughts. ‘Proving you didn’t do something when you didn’t can be harder than proving you didn’t when you did.
’ She paused. ‘So what did they say? There’s been nothing on the radio.’

  He closed his eyes. He needed to focus – to calm down and to focus. Maybe he had seen something or heard something that could be useful.

  ‘Nothing. They wouldn’t say, just that it was an ongoing investigation. But the whole house was swarming with police. And I saw her sister get into the back of a cop car.’

  ‘The girl with the pink hair who was here yesterday? She’s hardly bumped off Mar, now, has she? Maybe she was a witness?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ He sucked his teeth. He’d been sure that if Marissa was going to get in touch with anyone, it would be her sister, but he’d lost Brioni when she’d jumped on a bus after they left Steve’s house yesterday. Unsure what to do next, he’d gone to the bar in the hotel the American woman was staying in, but by nine they still hadn’t reappeared and he reckoned he’d missed them, so he’d gone home. ‘They were really interested when I told them I did the garden.’

  ‘Who were? The cops? Like what interested? Come on, Dalton, spit it out.’

  ‘I’m sorry.’ He tried to pull himself together, rubbing the palms of his hands vigorously on his face. He crossed his arms tightly. ‘So I went in, and they took me to an interview room. This female cop and an old guy – they said everyone was at the house, but they’d take a statement and someone might need to call me back.’

  Thelma rolled her hands, encouraging him to go on.

  ‘They were really interested in the lawnmower. I said I’d taken it in for repair and they got quite excited, asked me what type it was.’

  ‘What’s the type of lawnmower got to do with the price of tea?’ Thelma shook her head despairingly, her eyes wide.

  ‘They wanted to know if it was electric or what.’ He shrugged. He hadn’t had a clue what they were after either. ‘I said it was a Flymo, and then they asked me if there were any flammable substances stored in the shed.’

  ‘You serious?’

  He leaned forward, putting his forearms on the cool steel.

  ‘I said there was barbecue lighter fluid, that was all. And then …’ He caught his breath. ‘And then they started asking me about rope.’

  ‘Holy fecking God! Do you think he tied her up and tried to burn the body?’

  Dalton shrugged and shook his head. ‘They just kept asking about the shed. I mean, it’s just a shed. It’s like all of a sudden everyone wants to know about the shed. That guy Reiss Chanin, the guy who works with Steve, was rooting around in it last week, looking for something. A USB or something. Said he’d lost it. I told them that, too.’

  Thelma looked at him incredulously. ‘Did he think the squirrels had put it in there?

  ‘No idea. He said Steve had put it down somewhere the other evening and they couldn’t find it. But I keep that shed spotless. Everything’s on shelves, nice and tidy, so you can walk right in and see what you need. If someone had left something in there, I would have seen it.’

  ‘Did the cops give you any idea about what had happened at all?’

  He turned to look at her. ‘That’s the worst thing – not knowing. I just keep praying that whatever’s happened, it happened to Steve or that guy Reiss, he makes my skin crawl. It’s like he walked off a plantation. The way he looks at me, like I’m unclean or something. Black and gay just aren’t his gig.’

  As if Thelma was only half-listening, she interrupted him.

  ‘You know I’ve been asking all the lads on the street if they’ve seen her – word’s gone out to all the rough sleepers, and to the hostels, the whole bloody lot. I know it’s not been long, but there’s been no sightings. Nothing at all. That’s really weird, if you ask me. If she was walking about alive and well, someone would have seen her.’

  Chapter 35

  ‘Brioni, how are you doing?’

  Reiss Chanin’s southern accent made Brioni feel as if she’d been slimed. It was much stronger than Steve’s, but too like his for comfort. She took a deep breath and turned around, throwing him a weak grin. The reception area in Islington police station smelled of bleach and sweat and an underlayer of what she was sure was vomit.

  Which just about summed up how Brioni was feeling right now.

  She’d been in the interview room for what felt like hours, detailing her every move leading up to finding Steve’s body. Obviously mortified by the meteoric fuck-up of not securing the crime scene in the first instance, the team were being super-cautious. Some guy called Julian had appeared in the corridor as she’d left. British public school, immaculate suit. He’d pulled Mike over for a quick word, their voices low, Mike’s face serious. She couldn’t hear what had been said, and then Anna had texted to say she was in reception, waiting for her own interview. They needed more detail than she’d given to the Inspector originally.

  Brioni should have guessed Reiss Chanin would be here, too.

  She had to answer, couldn’t ignore him, much as she wanted to.

  ‘I’m good. Long day.’

  ‘What did they ask you? I’ve just got here.’

  ‘Just what I was doing yesterday, what time I left the house. That sort of thing.’

  His hands in his pockets, Reiss’s eyes narrowed.

  ‘Why do they need to do it again? They asked all that on the phone yesterday.’

  Brioni looked at him quizzically. They obviously hadn’t told him the details of Steve’s death – that the investigation had been stepped up to a murder enquiry, one that was linked to the bombs.

  And it sure as hell wasn’t her job to tell him what was going on. Brioni shrugged.

  ‘Just checking everything, I suppose. How was Steve when you left?’

  Reiss took a deep breath and wiped his eyes. They were red, his tanned face definitely paler than the last time she’d seen him. But then Steve was his friend, and they were both men’s men, as Marissa had reassured her a few years into her marriage. Whatever the fuck that meant.

  Reiss sniffed, clearing his throat, pretending he wasn’t upset.

  ‘Very down. He was saying he couldn’t face life without Marissa. I’ve never seen him like that. He was taking it really bad.’ He paused. ‘But I never thought he’d do something like this. I’d never have left him …’ Reiss ran his hand through his thick blond hair. ‘I had to go get something from the office. It was Friday afternoon, for Christ’s sake. I’ve been asking myself why I didn’t wait until Monday with every breath I’ve taken since.’

  He sat down on the bench seat and rubbed his face hard with both hands.

  Brioni held her distance. ‘Have you known him long?’

  Reiss cleared his throat. ‘We were in school together. Worked in New York in the same place, and then when he got the job at Cybex he persuaded me to come over. We were like brothers.’ Reiss sniffed. ‘I can’t believe this has happened. I’d really never have gone if I’d thought he was this close to the edge. Losing Marissa just left such a massive hole in his life.’

  ‘And mine.’ Brioni took a shaky breath.

  Reiss lifted his head. ‘I know. Did you hear much from her when you were travelling? It can be hard finding a signal in some of those places.’

  Brioni looked at him for a moment. One guy she’d met on her travels had sent her a video from a village in Nepal. How did he not know that the world had got a lot smaller in the last few years? Didn’t he work in cybersecurity? Maybe now wasn’t the time to ask.

  ‘Yes, Facebook and WhatsApp are great. I sent her a photo every time I arrived somewhere new.’

  ‘That’s cool. Did she send you emergency supplies?’

  He half-smiled as if it was a genuine question. But what the fuck was he talking about? Brioni thought of her eighteenth-birthday present, of the surprise and joy of opening the little lilac box. But it was hardly an emergency supply, and also none of his business. She shook her head.

  By way of explanation he continued. ‘When I first came to London, my sister sent me Hersheys until I found somewhere I could get them here.�
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  Brioni smiled her benign smile – the one she reserved for lunatics and losers – but before she could reply, the door to the inner part of the station opened and Anna was shown through.

  She looked pale – the denim blue of her sleeveless linen dress not rich enough to lift her pallor.

  ‘Bri, how are you? And Reiss? I’m so sorry we can’t meet again under better circumstances.’

  Reiss stood up and put out his hand, grimacing, his face deadly serious. But something about him had changed, as if his radar had suddenly come on. Brioni raised her eyebrows. Anna was gorgeous; even in a simple summer dress and inky blue suede sandals, she managed to look elegant and beautifully co-ordinated.

  But now? Timing?

  As if she hadn’t noticed, Anna continued. ‘Did you know Steve well? You worked with him in Cybex?’

  ‘Yes, I was just telling Brioni, we go way back.’ He shook his head. ‘I can’t believe it.’

  ‘Do you have contact details for his parents? They will need to be told – the police were asking.’

  Reiss hesitated for a moment. ‘His mom’s moved recently. Her details will be in the house, though. I could get them? He was checking over some reports that we need for next week, too, I should pick them up. Do you have Steve’s key?’

  Brioni opened her mouth to reply just as the door behind them opened again and the detective who had sat in on her interview reappeared.

  ‘Mr Chanin? Can you come this way?’

  Brioni kept the smile fixed on her face as he followed the detective inside. Reports?

  What did he really want to get that was in Steve’s house?

  The minute the door closed, Anna stepped forward, putting her hands on Brioni’s shoulders.

  ‘Are you OK?’

  Brioni closed her eyes for a second, trying to centre herself.

  ‘That accent just makes me think of Steve.’

  ‘Or Rhett Butler.’ Anna rolled her eyes. ‘Tara’s well and truly burning now.’ Brioni raised her eyebrows as she continued. ‘I’ll fill you in when we get out of here.’