by Helen Fields
‘Salter!’ Callanach called down the corridor. The detective constable poked her head out of the incident room.
‘I’m just off to Superintendent Overbeck’s house, sir. I’ll phone you if we find anything,’ she said.
‘Send uniforms. I need you.’ He stepped back into his office and waited for Salter to arrive. She was casually dressed, shirt untucked, hair down. Perhaps that was best. He needed her not to stand out in a crowd.
‘Sir?’ she asked as she walked in. He reached behind her, shut the door and locked it. ‘Um, is everything okay?’ Salter said, her eyes lingering on the door handle.
Callanach sat down, staring at his second mobile phone, willing it to ring so he could avoid dragging Salter into such a procedural mess. It didn’t, so he had no choice.
‘Sit down, Salter,’ Callanach said, ripping a sheet of paper off a notepad and grabbing a pen.
‘I don’t need to sit down, sir. I’m fine.’ Salter was defensive, bordering on twitchy.
‘I locked the door because no one else must overhear this conversation. I’m trying to protect you,’ Callanach said.
‘I don’t need protecting, sir. And I have no desire to be pandered to. As soon as I’m ready I’ll—’
‘Salter, listen carefully because I need you out of the door in the next five minutes. Go to this address.’ Callanach scribbled CyberBallista’s details down and handed the paper over. ‘At reception, ask to speak with Ben Paulson.’ Salter took a pen out of her pocket and went to write the name down. ‘No, don’t do that, just remember it. Don’t give your name. Don’t show your warrant card. If he’s in a meeting or you’re told he can’t be reached, tell them it’s a personal emergency involving a family member. Get him to phone me straight away.’
‘Ben Paulson. CyberBallista. All right, sir.’
‘You can’t tell anyone where you’re going. Just say I’m sending you out, no questions. And destroy that piece of paper when you’ve memorised it.’
The door handle rattled, there was a soft cursing, then a foot hit the bottom of the wood.
‘Callanach, would you open the door?’ Ava sounded as if she was trying to repress a screaming fit.
‘One minute,’ Callanach said.
‘No, right now,’ Ava said. ‘Whatever you’re doing can wait.’
He opened the door.
‘I need to finish speaking with DC Salter,’ Callanach said. ‘Could you wait?’
‘No, I can’t wait. There’s a piece of recently removed finger sitting on the superintendent’s desk and somewhere there’s a Slovenian on a countdown until he can cut off another piece and send it to us.’
‘I’ll be off then, sir. Shall I phone you when it’s done?’ Salter asked.
‘No. Stay off your phone. Get straight back here.’
‘Fine. I’ll grab a car from the pool,’ Salter said.
‘Unmarked,’ Callanach said. ‘Nothing obvious.’
Ava stared at Salter, turned her gaze on Callanach, then reached out a hand to stop the detective constable from leaving the office. ‘Where exactly is it you’re going, Detective Constable?’
‘It’s a private matter,’ Callanach said. ‘Off you go, Salter.’
‘There’s no privacy in police work. If it’s part of this investigation then I’m entitled to information sharing.’
‘Um, sir?’ Salter looked to Callanach. He put his hands on his hips and stared at the ceiling.
‘Salter is following up a line of investigation that requires absolute discretion. Information sharing at this point may jeopardise it.’
‘Are you going alone, Salter?’ Ava asked her. Salter said nothing. ‘I’ll take that as a yes. Is it part of the investigation into these murders?’
‘Yes, ma’am,’ Salter murmured.
‘DC Salter isn’t going,’ Ava said, sitting down, ‘unless you tell me where you’re sending her and I can assess the risk.’
‘You need to back off, DI Turner,’ Callanach leaned over his desk.
‘And you need to recognise when one of your female detectives is pregnant, even if she chooses for perfectly understandable career reasons not to disclose that fact. Isn’t that right, Detective Constable?’
Salter’s head took a dip. Callanach breathed out hard.
‘Is that right, Salter?’ Callanach asked.
‘How did you know, ma’am?’ Salter asked.
‘Your skin is glowing but you look exhausted, you’ve taken to wearing your shirt outside your trousers, you’re in flat shoes every day. And you’ve gone off tea. It’s a dead giveaway. You should have disclosed it. You know there’s an everyday risk out on the street, whatever you’re doing. Never more so than during this investigation.’
‘This is just an office visit. It’s not like there’s any danger attached,’ Salter said, holding up the paper to highlight her point.
Ava had snatched it from her before Callanach even saw her get up.
Salter gasped and took a step forward.
‘Please, ma’am …’ Salter said.
‘Off you go, Salter. You’re on incident room duties unless I assess every call you’re attending. And congratulations, by the way,’ Callanach managed through gritted teeth.
Salter slipped silently out of the door.
Ava put the slip of paper in the pocket of her jeans.
‘Do I want to read it?’ she asked Callanach.
‘You’ll open a door you can’t close again,’ Callanach said, walking to stand directly in front of her, leaning against his desk and folding his arms.
‘Is this what Overbeck was asking me about? The reason you’re never here?’
‘It’s part of it,’ Callanach said.
‘Are you breaking the law?’ Ava asked, lowering her voice and taking a step closer to him.
‘I’m trying to stop two murderers. If I cross a line to do that, does it really matter?’
‘Depends on the line,’ Ava said. ‘And if this is about Lott and Balcaskie’s murderer, withholding information from me is not a good idea.’
‘I’ll pass on the information,’ Callanach said. ‘But you can’t get involved in how I obtain it.’
Ava turned round, staring at the photos, notes, maps and diagrams covering Callanach’s office wall, studying the faces of the four victims before facing him again.
‘Julia Stimple is, what, hours from death? Maybe already dead. We know she’s been tortured. Whatever you’re doing, you have to let me in,’ Ava said.
Callanach kept his voice as low as he could. ‘Ava, I won’t do that. Don’t ask me to.’
‘It’s not up to you,’ she said. Walking to the door Ava pulled the paper from her pocket.
‘CyberBallista,’ she said.
‘Mon Dieu, tu es têtue!’ Callanach said. ‘Not just stubborn, but infuriating.’
‘Where have I heard that name before?’ Ava muttered, staring at the paper.
‘Ava, you have to stop.’
‘Isn’t that … hang on, Joe said something about …’ she stared at Callanach. ‘I’m imagining this, right? You’re not really communicating with someone in a company at the heart of a major hacking investigation, being personally overseen from 10 Downing Street?’
‘I told you to stay out of it,’ he said.
‘I thought you were just being a bit of a maverick, maybe getting information from a few dodgy ex-cons. Do you have any idea …’ Ava’s face bloomed a deep shade of purple.
‘Keep your voice down. This is none of your concern. It’s a company name on a piece of paper. Screw it up and walk away. Perhaps now you understand why I didn’t want you involved.’
‘Yeah, well, remind me to buy you a drink and thank you for that sometime when we’ve both finished being sacked. What were you sending Salter off to do? Did you think about the sort of difficulty you were putting her in? Were you even going to warn her? You really are an idiot, I hope you know that!’
She stormed over to the door and yanked it open. He pick
ed up the paper she’d left lying in the middle of the floor, ripped it into pieces and dropped them in his bin.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Ava managed to reach her office without screaming. The mystery of Superintendent Overbeck’s questions was solved. Bloody Callanach. No wonder there’d been a complaint. She found herself twisting her engagement ring again and speculated about how much Joe knew. Surely if he was aware what Callanach had been up to, he’d have said something to her. Her head was thumping. She didn’t seem to go an hour without a headache these days. If only Natasha were there, the one person who listened without judgement, who could get her through the next month.
Callanach had gone too far and the truth was there was no going back. She couldn’t believe it. He was neither stupid nor reckless. What could be worth his entire career, even the prospect of facing criminal charges? Joe was a closed book when it came to his investigation. She’d only heard the word CyberBallista in passing when he’d been on his mobile as she cooked dinner one night. Whatever Callanach was after from them, it was worth him risking everything. Swallowing a couple of paracetamol, she put on her coat and walked back down the corridor. This time she didn’t bother knocking.
‘We’re going for a walk,’ she told Callanach. ‘I’ll see you out front.’
She took the stairs two at a time, wishing she’d found more time to exercise recently, out of breath by the time she hit the ground floor. Callanach joined her two minutes later, grim-faced. They wandered away from the police station, neither of them speaking until they were clear of other human beings, able to sit on a small patch of grass and stare at the sky.
‘You’re putting yourself on the line,’ Ava said.
‘You think I don’t know that?’ Callanach took a packet of Gauloises cigarettes from his pocket, taking one out, lying back and drawing air through it unlit.
‘Let me try that,’ Ava said, taking another cigarette from the packet and lying back shoulder to shoulder with him. She smelled the tobacco first, playing it between her fingers, getting used to the feel of it. ‘I haven’t smoked since I was at university. Even then I was only trying to look cool. It never really suited me.’ She took it between her lips and inhaled. ‘Why do you still do this?’
‘Reminds me of simpler times,’ Callanach said, closing his eyes.
Ava sat up, leaning on one arm as she stared at him.
‘What has your source got that we can’t get anywhere else?’ she asked.
‘I’m not discussing it,’ Callanach said.
‘Yes, you are. That’s why you came out here with me. You knew I was going to ask. Also, if you don’t, you’ll leave me no choice but to go to Overbeck and spill the whole thing.’
‘You wouldn’t,’ Callanach said.
‘You may have too high an opinion of me,’ Ava said. ‘Let’s not test it today. Come on Luc, I know you. You wouldn’t be taking this risk if there weren’t the prospect of a suitable reward. I don’t want all the details. I sure as hell don’t want to be implicated. I just need to know if what you’re doing could save lives. I need to understand it.’
Callanach opened his eyes, followed the progress of a smudge of cloud being blown across the sky, and rolled onto his stomach. ‘There’s a coder inside CyberBallista. He’s hacking into a darknet website to which both murderers have links. We’ve assumed the identity of the sort of person who’d be interested in the killings and we’re waiting for a password so we can get in.’
‘But we had one of the top London cyber companies look at this stuff and it was locked tight. There were no leads,’ Ava said.
‘It’s down to the skill of the individual hacker. And the guy I’m dealing with is one of the best in the world.’
‘Is he also responsible for the banker thefts?’ Ava asked. She didn’t want the answer, but not asking the question seemed like cowardice.
‘Are you asking if he did it, or if your fiancé thinks he did it? I can’t answer the first question and I won’t answer the second.’
‘God, Luc, what have you done?’
‘I’ve found possibly the only person in the UK who has the ability to trace these murderers. I’m doing my job. We should get back. If I can’t send anyone else to speak to him, I’ll go myself.’ He stood up, extending his hand to Ava and pulling her up too.
‘Don’t be stupid. You’re already the subject of a complaint and it’s obviously all wrapped up in this. What is it you need?’
‘I need Ben Paulson out of his office and trying to get into that website. We’re pretty sure his work phone line is not secure and he’s not picking up his mobile. I need someone there now.’
They began to walk back, brushing grass off their backs, squinting in the sunlight. Even the Edinburgh wind had died down in response to their low moods.
‘Look, Luc, why don’t I just speak with Joe? If he knew what was at stake, if I could make him understand, I’m sure he’d see sense.’
Callanach laughed. Ava watched him, genuinely unable to stop, clutching his sides. She crossed her arms and waited until he’d pulled himself together.
‘That was rude,’ Ava said, walking away.
‘I’m sorry. It’s just that you have no idea who Joseph Edgar is – what he is – and yet you want to spend the rest of your life with him? I’ve already been warned off. Closing his case is a guaranteed step up the ladder, skipping a few rungs on the way. He’s not going to let anything ruin it. Not even a few dead bodies.’
Ava drew breath to speak. She wanted to defend Joe, to deny what Callanach had said, but even if she’d been capable of speaking, the pretence of making Joe out to be something better than he was, wasn’t worthy of her.
‘I’ll go,’ she said. ‘They won’t be looking for me. You can’t put anyone else from the squad at risk. If he finds out, I’ll tell Joe I was following up a lead of my own and that I had no idea what was going on at CyberBallista. He’s not going to make a complaint against me, is he?’
Callanach checked his watch. They were both thinking the same thing. They were out of time. Julia Stimple was waiting.
‘I’m going,’ Ava said, pulling out her keys as they reached the station car park.
‘Would it make any difference if I said no?’ Callanach asked.
‘Only to the extent that I’d enjoy defying you. Other than that, not a bloody bit. Give me twenty minutes.’
Ava drove as fast as she could without breaking any laws or drawing attention to herself. She parked round the back of CyberBallista’s offices, went through the car park to the reception area for the office block and asked to use their phone.
‘I need to talk to Mr Paulson,’ she told CyberBallista’s receptionist, who had announced himself on the phone with no small measure of self-importance.
‘Not going to happen, missy, he’s in with the boss.’
‘Please, I’m his girlfriend. I’m downstairs in reception.’ Ava forced a slight sob into her voice. It was sympathy or threats. She started with the least offensive option.
‘Then Mr Paulson should’ve told you no personal visits at work. Company policy.’
‘But I’ve been …’ Ava made her voice catch in her throat. ‘I can’t talk about it.’
‘Are you all right? Perhaps we should call the police?’ he said.
‘No, there was a break-in, you see, at our flat. The police have already been round. I’m just shaken up and I need to know where to find the insurance details so I can get the front door mended. I feel really vulnerable about going home when I can’t lock up securely. I only need to see him for a minute. Could you ask, please? And say I’m sorry.’
His voice softened. ‘I’ll see what I can do. You just stay where you are.’
Ava put the phone down, walking away from the ground floor reception desk, grateful that it was summer and she had an excuse for wearing dark sunglasses and a hat. She looked exactly like every other tourist wandering around the city in her faded jeans and white T-shirt. Even so, she moved out of
view of the front windows.
It took a while, but eventually a man in his twenties, tanned with long hair and an attitude, came out. Ava raised a hand, mindful that the receptionist had heard her telephone tale of woe.
Ben took Ava’s arm and walked her through the door that led to the car park.
‘Unless I’m mistaken,’ he said, ‘you’re not my girlfriend. Honestly, you’re a bit old for me.’
‘Callanach needs you to phone him,’ Ava said. ‘Straight away. It’s urgent.’
‘I have no idea who you’re talking about,’ Ben said. ‘And I think proper procedure dictates that you introduce yourself and explain what you’re doing here.’
Ava gritted her teeth. Callanach hadn’t warned her that the boy was such a pain.
‘I’ve passed the message on, and you do know who I’m talking about. This isn’t a game. If you can help, then we need you to help right now.’
‘DCI Edgar is stooping pretty low using you to get to me,’ Ben said.
‘What?’ Ava said, stepping away. ‘So you know who I am?’
‘For the record, as I’m guessing you’re taping or filming this, I haven’t been read my rights and I’ve no idea who Callanach is. Tell Edgar he’ll have to do better than that. Excuse me.’
‘Ben,’ Ava said as he walked away. ‘I get it. And I have no desire to be dragged into whatever you’re doing. Check your mobile. There have been developments and you’ll find missed calls. When DCI Edgar gets his case together you’ll be arrested. Until then, you might want to consider helping as a way to make up for those thefts. For some reason Luc has faith in you. He’s taken a monumental risk. Don’t screw it up.’
‘Whatever. Thanks for the pep talk, lady. Give your fiancé my love.’ He let the door fall shut as he walked through, the slam echoing between the concrete pillars. Ava cursed. That could have gone better. Computer genius he might be, but he was also a jumped-up little sod.
Chapter Thirty-Six
When Callanach got back to the incident room, DS Lively was waiting.
