‘Come on in for a second,’ Ruth heard Ella say as the door swung open and her daughter walked in.
Turning to face her mother, Ella shook her head and said, ‘I’m such an idiot. I left my phone here. I’ll just run upstairs and get it.’
Walking awkwardly over the threshold was a man she hadn’t seen in over twenty years. They eventually made eye contact and he smiled at her.
‘Hi, Ruth,’ he said in his deep voice.
Dan had changed so much that, for a few seconds, she felt quite stunned. In her head, it was still the mid-nineties and Dan had just turned thirty. But twenty-five years later, his long, blonde hair had all gone and been replaced by a tanned, virtually bald head. His eyes and mouth were also tanned and lined. A neat goatee was greying on his chin. It was like the moment Dorian Gray stabbed his own portrait and aged decades in one go. At least, that’s how she remembered the story. Maybe he just died.
However, Dan looked well and handsome. He had always been handsome. She had to give him that. Maybe he was better looking now he had aged?
‘If this is too weird, I’ll wait outside until ...’ Dan said, still showing his uneasiness.
She didn’t know if he felt genuinely guilty or embarrassed about how badly he had treated them both, or if he just feared Ruth’s reaction to his very presence. She hoped it was the former.
In her slightly drunk jolliness, Ruth made a decision as she looked at Dan.
‘This is stupid, Dan. Come in and have a drink,’ Ruth said, not quite believing that the words had come out of her mouth.
‘Really?’ Dan asked, his brow furrowed as though this was some kind of trick.
‘Christ, it was a long, long time ago. And I’m starting to realise that life is very short,’ Ruth said as she turned and headed for the kitchen.
Merringer’s death had given her a lot of perspective. She wasn’t immortal, and carrying around toxic resentment wasn’t healthy for anyone. Well, that’s what she told herself in her drunken haze.
Ella came downstairs and frowned. ‘Are we okay?’
Dan frowned and said, ‘Er ... I think we’re staying for a drink.’
Ella’s face lit up. ‘Brilliant! Mum, where are you?’
Ruth was still trying to work out if this was a good idea, but the very sight of Ella’s face as she entered the kitchen told her that she had done the right thing. She knew that Ella wanted her two parents to be in the same room and be civil with each other – even if it was just for an hour. She owed her that much.
‘Wine, Ella?’ Ruth asked.
‘Of course.’
Going to the fridge, she pulled out one of Sian’s bottles of San Miguel and showed it to Dan. That had always been his drink – the irony wasn’t lost on her.
‘Cold San Miguel, from the bottle?’ Ruth asked knowingly.
‘Bloody hell. You remembered?’ Dan said with a hint of irony as he started to relax.
Ruth handed Ella a large glass of wine and asked, ‘Ella, did you really leave your phone here by accident?’
Ella looked at them both and raised an eyebrow. ‘Of course I bloody didn’t!’
THE LIGHT HAD FADED to a translucent blue by the time Nick reached HMP Applethorn. Tony was sitting smoking a roll-up cigarette at the same table that they had all sat at during their last visit.
Nick was slightly out of breath as he had jogged over from the car park to catch the last half an hour of visiting time.
Nick put his hand up as he approached and said, ‘Sorry I’m late, Tony.’
‘Not a problem, Nick. I’m not going anywhere,’ he said dryly.
Sitting down, Nick caught his breath and looked around at the neat gardens. ‘Not a bad little spot here, is it?’ Then he regretted it. Why was he talking about a prison garden? It was because he was nervous and wasn’t quite sure how to kick off the conversation.
Tony looked at him, reading Nick like a book. ‘You’ve come a long way to talk about the gardens, son.’
Nick smiled and nodded. He was feeling awkward but knew he was doing the right thing. ‘I wanted to ask you something, you see?’
‘Right. Fire away,’ Tony said as he finished rolling the cigarette.
‘Amanda is the best thing that’s ever happened to me. And we’re having a baby ...’
‘Yeah, I’d noticed,’ Tony remarked with a smile.
‘And I want to ask her to marry me. But I wanted to ask you before I did,’ Nick explained, feeling clumsy.
Tony lit the cigarette and blinked for a second as the smoke went into his eyes. ‘Right, very old-fashioned. I didn’t think people bothered with all that these days.’
‘I’ve spent my life doing everything the wrong way. And with Amanda, I want to do things properly and the right way,’ Nick said, trying to explain.
‘Except for her being pregnant before you get married,’ Tony quipped with a broadening smile.
Nick laughed and nodded. ‘Well, apart from that. I wanted to ask Amanda to marry me and tell her that I’d spoken to you. I think the fact that I had been to see you, and talked about it, would make her very happy.’
Tony shrugged. ‘I don’t know about that ... I’ve not been around for much of her life, but she seems to think the world of you, son.’
‘Is that a yes?’ Nick asked.
‘I don’t think I have the right to say what Mand does with her life. But yes, I do think you would make each other happy,’ Tony said as he flicked the ash from his cigarette and began to cough. The cough continued and Tony seemed unable to get his breath.
Nick looked at him. ‘All right? You need some water or something?’ he asked.
Tony waved his hands to signal he was fine. ‘No, no. I’m okay.’
‘Are you?’ Nick asked and raised an eyebrow in a way that was intended to signal that he knew something wasn’t right.
‘Yeah, I’m fine. Bloody fags.’
There was silence.
‘It’s none of my business, but I don’t think you are fine.’
‘Playing bloody detective, even when you’re not at work, eh?’ Tony asked with a wry smile.
‘How bad is your cancer, really?’ Nick asked, knowing that Tony had lied to them. That was the problem with the job. It came with an innate instinct for when someone wasn’t telling the truth or was hiding something. Sometimes it was a blessing, but not always.
‘What d’you mean?’ Tony asked, avoiding eye contact and stubbing out his cigarette on the sun-bleached wood of the table.
‘Come on.’
‘When I was a kid, we called it the “copper’s nose”, you know that?’
Nick nodded. He just needed to say nothing.
Tony took his glasses and cleaned them on his shirt for a moment. ‘You’re right. Cancer’s fucking everywhere. Lungs, lymph nodes, liver.’
‘How long have you got?’ Nick asked.
‘Maybe a year ... if I’m lucky.’
‘I’m really sorry to hear that, Tony,’ Nick said.
‘I don’t want you to tell Amanda. Not yet. I want her to enjoy having your baby and getting married,’ Tony said.
Nick could see that Tony was adamant, but he felt uncertain. Was keeping Tony’s diagnosis from Amanda the right thing to do? How would she react if she knew he had kept the truth from her?
After the events of last December, Nick had wanted them to be completely honest with each other, no matter what.
‘I’m not sure that I should be keeping it from her.’ Nick said.
‘I will tell her. But please, let me find the right time. Allow me that, eh?’ Tony asked, looking directly at Nick.
Nick nodded. ‘Of course.’
IT WAS HEADING FOR midnight, and Ruth had been talking with Dan and Ella for hours. The fact that they had all consumed a huge amount of alcohol had probably eased things along. ‘Deep Inside’ by Masters at Work was playing on the stereo – ‘All we need is love ...’ It was a mid-nineties house music classic and one of Ruth’s favourites. It remind
ed her of when she and Dan had first got together and went to clubs like Garage City, Bagley’s and the Ministry of Sound when it first opened and before the tourists found it.
‘Drink?’ Ruth asked them. She knew it was a mistake to be this drunk, but she didn’t care. She was numb, and that’s how she needed to be tonight. Laughing and talking about old times had distracted her from all the darkness and pain of the week.
‘Why not?’ Dan said with a grin.
‘I need to go to bed,’ Ella said putting her hands up in surrender.
‘Lightweight,’ Ruth said as she zigzagged towards the kitchen for more booze. ‘Oops,’ she giggled as she lost her footing for a moment. Bloody hell, I really am drunk.
‘Mum, you’re hammered!’ Ella said.
‘Wait, what about the time your mum nicked some teenagers for going through a red light? She found a bag of snowballs on them and confiscated them ...’ Dan said laughing.
‘Snowballs?’ Ella asked.
‘Ecstasy pills. Actually, they had a bit of smack in them, so if you licked them, they went brown,’ Dan explained.
‘Ew, that’s grim,’ Ella said.
‘They were bloody strong though,’ Ruth said as she returned with drinks and stumbled again. She got a flash of how carefree those days had been.
‘You took them?’ Ella asked.
‘We went to that mad club. “Pump your Sporran” or something. Everyone in kilts with eyes like saucers. Brilliant!’ Ruth said. She remembered the rushes from the ecstasy were so strong that night she could hardly get her breath.
‘Oh yeah, I forgot that. Used to take half the week for my brain to recover,’ Dan said, shaking his head. ‘I’m surprised we’ve got any serotonin left!’
‘Mum, I can’t believe you confiscated drugs from someone and then went out with Dad and took them!’
‘It was twenty-five years ago and I was still a probationer.’
‘You confiscated pills off someone at Gay Pride on Clapham Common as well!’
‘And if I remember correctly, you had your top off and your hair in a ponytail,’ Ruth said mockingly.
Dan patted his stomach and grinned. ‘Wouldn’t get away with that now.’
From where Ruth was sitting, Dan looked like he didn’t have an ounce of fat on him. And his arms were still sculpted, with a Native American tattoo on the right and an Aztec symbol on the left.
In the rose-tinted haze of alcohol, Ruth smiled at the thought of those years. She knew she fancied women, so she thought she was bi-sexual. And Dan was a real catch. Everyone said so. He was cool and fit. He had tattoos when they were still the preference of hairy bikers and old sailors. He knew everyone. They were guest-listed everywhere.
‘Right, I’m going to bed,’ Ella said waving. ‘Dad, you getting a cab to your hotel?’
‘Yeah, I’d better sort that out,’ Dan said sitting up and getting his phone. ‘Don’t suppose you have Uber round here?’
‘Joking, aren’t you?’ Ruth said. ‘You can crash on the sofa if you want? I’m going to bed now too.’
God, I’m so drunk, she thought.
‘Yeah, it would be great to crash here if that’s okay?’ Dan said.
‘I’ll see you in the morning then, Dad,’ Ella said as she disappeared upstairs.
Ruth went to the hall cupboard, grabbed blankets and two pillows before returning. How the hell have you allowed this to happen? she thought as she marked Dan standing by the sofa.
‘There you go, twat!’ Ruth said with a grin as she threw them at Dan.
‘Hey ... You used to be so ladylike,’ Dan smirked.
Looking at the sofa, Ruth came over and started to remove the side cushions. ‘If you take these off, there’s more room. I forgot how tall you were,’ she said, aware that her words really were slurring now.
‘Cheers for this, Ruth,’ Dan said, putting his hand on her arm for a second.
As Ruth moved away from the sofa, she nearly bumped into him. For a moment, they stood facing each other, inches apart.
‘Oops! I seem to have a balance issue,’ she laughed.
They looked at each other and smiled. In her drunkenness, Ruth held Dan’s gaze and twinkling grin for longer than normal.
Before she knew, they had leaned together and kissed.
Oh my God! What?
They stopped for a moment, looked at each other and kissed again. This time passionately, tongues searching and fighting.
And then, simultaneously, they moved apart.
‘I think I should go to bed,’ Ruth mumbled, drunk and confused.
‘Okay, night then,’ Dan said.
Climbing the stairs slowly, Ruth closed her eyes for a moment.
What the fuck just happened?
CHAPTER 20
Five days, eleven hours
As Ruth walked into the heat of the incident room, her head was pounding and she was feeling a little sweaty around the edges. She also had the guilt and sober shock of her drunken tryst with Dan. How did she let that happen? How did her brain process that thought and deem it to be an okay thing to do?
She caught Sian approaching and instantly panicked. Hangover guilt was the worst.
‘You hungover, boss?’ Sian asked knowingly.
‘Yes, very,’ Ruth replied, closing her eyes for just a moment.
‘I can smell it from here,’ Sian said with a worried look on her face.
‘Don’t. Not having a great week, so I decided to self-medicate last night,’ Ruth explained. Talking to Sian was making her squirm. She needed to get through briefing, drink water and coffee, and put the events of last night out of her head for a few hours.
Sian touched her arm for a moment. ‘We’ll find some time to talk.’
‘Not today,’ Ruth snapped as she grabbed her files and headed for the front of the room. She couldn’t deal with how uncomfortable being in close proximity to Sian was making her feel.
Sian looked a little hurt as she turned and walked away.
‘Good morning, everyone. Today we have a memorial service for Luke at St Mark’s Church at seven thirty. His funeral is to be at Llancastell Crematorium at the end of next week for family and close colleagues. Superintendent Jones has spoken to Luke’s family. We will provide officers for a guard of honour and six pallbearers to carry the coffin, which will be draped in a North Wales Police flag ...’
From nowhere, the image of Merringer’s coffin appeared in her head, followed by an unstoppable surge of emotion and grief. It caught her off-guard and she had to take a breath as tears welled and blurred her vision. ‘Sorry ... erm ...we can talk about volunteers for this ... at the end of the day.’
Ruth took a deep breath. Keep it together, Ruth. Get back to business. She cleared her throat as she pointed to the photos on the board.
‘Okay. Rosie Wright has been missing for over five days. Usually, we would now take the view that she is unlikely to be found alive. But given the nature of our investigation, it may be that Rosie is being held as a way of gaining leverage over her mother. We suspect that Gareth Wright has been supplying his mother Kathy with the drugs that she then smuggled into HMP Rhoswen. Gareth’s car has already been impounded and a forensic team are due to check it out this morning. SOCOs are also due at Gareth Wright’s home. Kathy and Gareth are to be questioned after this briefing in separate interview rooms. We’ll compare what they have to say. Gareth seems to be willing to give evidence against Kathy and Blake in return for some kind of deal from the CPS.’
Nick sat forward. ‘That makes sense. The messages that Rosie had sent to Hayley on the fan site mentioned that she was horrified by the sort of people her mother and brother were.’
‘What if Rosie had found out what Kathy and Gareth were doing?’ French suggested.
Nick nodded. ‘If Rosie then confronted them with what she knew?’
Sian frowned. ‘Sorry, I don’t buy Kathy Wright harming her own daughter.’
‘Really? I’ve seen worse,’ Ruth said, the
n realising that it sounded like she was patronising Sian. She avoided looking at her.
Nick said, ‘If Rosie threatened to blow the whistle on what they were doing, that puts her in a very dangerous position.’
‘Anything else?’
French looked down at a printout, ‘Tech have traced a mobile number on Blake’s burner phone to the Capelulo area. It was a pay-as-you-go, but it had been triangulated to the area of Haddon Farm. But it doesn’t match the burner phone that Merringer found in Kathy’s car.’
‘Kathy could have several burner phones,’ Sian suggested.
‘It does establish a direct link between Blake and someone in Capelulo,’ Nick said.
‘When was the last call made to that number?’ Ruth asked as she tried to piece the facts together.
French ran his finger down the printout. ‘Last Monday, ten fifteen in the evening.’
Ruth looked at them all. ‘Which was two hours after we think Rosie disappeared.’
TEN MINUTES LATER, Ruth had requested to look again at the CCTV footage of Kathy Wright in the supermarket car park with the man she claimed was Andy.
Clicking on the files that Merringer had been emailed, Ruth brought the CCTV footage up onto the large monitor on the wall.
Nick came over to see what she was looking at and pulled a face. ‘Kathy Wright must have done some serious airbrushing if she found someone on a website.’
Ruth rolled her eyes and then played the footage forward to the point where the man in sunglasses gets out of Kathy Wright’s car. She paused the image so that they could see the blurred image of the man.
‘She wasn’t on a dating site and this wasn’t a date,’ Ruth said, looking at the man in the image.
‘How do you know that?’ Nick asked.
Clicking on some files that HMP Rhoswen had sent over, Ruth brought up some CCTV footage of the prison’s visiting area that she had viewed earlier. As she played the video, they could see Curtis Blake sitting at a table to the left of the screen. A moment later, a thickset man came over and sat down. He had the same Oakley wraparound sunglasses as the man in the supermarket CCTV, but perched up on his shaved head instead.
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