by Liz Mistry
Nikki was aware how stressful this investigation must be for Springer; even so, she wanted to take the judgemental tone the SIO had used and thrust it down the woman’s throat. Anwar, for her part, had stopped abruptly, the joyful smile faltering on her face as her cheeks reddened. ‘Yes, boss. I think I might have found something useful.’
Not content with draining all joy from whatever the junior officer had discovered, Springer snapped. ‘Well, get on with it and stop the melodrama. What have you got?’
Anwar’s lips tightened, but she inhaled before replying and when she spoke, her tone was steady, reflecting none of the anger that flashed in her eyes. ‘I’ve been going through the Liam Flynn files sent up from Cambridge, checking for anything that might shed some light on the link, other than the obvious cause of death and weapon, between the Flynn murder and the Dyson and Hudson ones.’
The hairs on the back of Nikki’s neck began to rise. Judging from Anwar’s expression she’d found something good – something that the Cambridge police had missed – and this might be just the breakthrough they needed. She edged closer, all senses focused on the other officer.
‘I found an email from Flynn to a Fred.Downs63 at a yahoo email address.’
‘Shit.’ The word was out of Nikki’s mouth before she could stop it. Sometimes, out of the blue, something previously cast aside as irrelevant or unimportant became the key to a case. Ignoring Springer’s position and SIO, Nikki moved over to Anwar. ‘Show me!’
Anwar pointed to her computer screen and there it was – two innocuous emails from the 1st of July that Cambridge police had overlooked, because they had no reason to imbue them with any importance. It was only when they came to Anwar’s attention, with her knowledge of Dyson and Hudson’s links to Freddie Downey that they took on an altogether more sinister meaning.
The first was to a Giuseppe Moretti:
Dear Mr Moretti
I am sorry to contact you out of the blue, but your name was given to me by a past acquaintance of yours, a Margaret Downey, who, I believe, was your neighbour over twenty years ago in Bradford. I am keen to speak with you and would appreciate if you would call me at your earliest convenience on this number …
Yours sincerely
Liam Flynn
The second was to a Mr Downs.
Dear Mr Downs
I am sorry to contact you out of the blue, but your name was given to me by a past acquaintance of yours, a Margaret Downey, who is, I believe, your ex-wife. I am keen to speak with you and would appreciate if you would call me at your earliest convenience on this number …
Yours sincerely
Liam Flynn
This was a fantastic breakthrough for the investigation in that it linked the three cases and it also implicated Freddie Downey. Moretti had been her mother’s neighbour and the link to Downey was obvious.
‘Did he reply?’ Springer’s voice carried all the tension that was in the room, but when Anwar shook her head, Springer tapped her fingers on the desk. ‘No other emails from Flynn to that email address?’
Again, although expected, Anwar’s headshake was disappointing. Still, the young officer had done good work. Such a small detail could easily have been overlooked and she deserved the credit. Nikki squeezed her shoulder, smiling widely. ‘Good work, Anwar, I …’
Nikki’s praise was cut off by Springer, who edged her out of the way, speaking over her as she did so. ‘Yes, well done. The next move is to firstly find out if Downey contacted Flynn. You have Flynn’s phone records?’
When Anwar nodded, Springer continued. ‘And secondly, get the techies to check out that email address of Downey’s. That’s not the one that he used on his laptop, so we may find some useful stuff on that email. Get on with it, pronto.’
As Springer hovered, waiting for Anwar to access Flynn’s phone records, Nikki fumed in silence. She had to admit she’d forgotten she was persona non grata and had let her excitement get the better of her. Still, Springer had been a cow, talking to Anwar in public like that.
‘Got them,’ Anwar said and Springer, Nikki and Sajid crowded round the screen again.
Saj’s aftershave tickled Nikki’s nostrils as she leaned in trying to see something notable, but all there was, was a list of phone numbers and call durations. Cambridge police had matched some numbers with names or nicknames, but a few were blank – probably cold calls. As they watched, all of them on tenterhooks, Anwar scrolled down to July and enlarged the screen, so they could look more easily.
Eyes screwed up, Saj said, ‘I reckon we’re looking for either a pay-as-you-go phone or one attributed to a nickname that might not be completely obvious at first glance as belonging to Downey. I get the impression that young Liam Flynn was keen to keep his communications with Downey low-key.’
Four pairs of eyes scanned down the page. Nikki, fingers crossed, hoped that they’d discover something to go on. When Saj found it, his yell almost deafened Nikki. ‘There – it’s there, look. FD – that’s got to be it – got to!’
Convinced her partner was right, Nikki high-fived him. ‘Let’s get that checked out and nail this bastard once and for all.’
Springer turned to Nikki, her eyes flashing. ‘DS Parekh, I hope I won’t have to remind you again that I am leading this investigation, not you. Any actions will be activated through me. You understand?’
Nikki gave a taut nod and moved back to her own desk. She wasn’t going to get into a pissing contest with Springer – not today. Not when they’d maybe just got the first real lead to link Downey to the murders. That didn’t stop her temple from throbbing again, nor her shoulders from tensing.
Certain that if she remained in the office with the woman for even a second more, she’d explode, Nikki exhaled. Leaning over, she spoke in Saj’s ear. ‘I’m off to Lazy Bites for a break before I actually do break something over someone’s head.’
Chapter 65
It had taken a brisk jog down the stairs at Trafalgar House and a smart walk along to the Lazy Bites café, before Nikki’s annoyance with Felicity Springer was even halfway exorcised. Why did the woman have to be such a bitch? If she was more like her partner, Stevie, then Nikki wouldn’t have a problem with her, but the way she’d spoken to Anwar was inexcusable. Archie should send Springer on a few “getting the best from your colleagues” courses – the ones he kept threatening to send her on. Seeing Isaac so much in his element in his chef’s whites made her feel marginally better. After the incident with the bullies the other day, Nikki had found out where they lived and had alerted the local beat bobbies to exert a little pressure on them. She doubted they’d bother Isaac again, but still she double-checked with Isaac’s boss that the louts hadn’t been back and then ordered a huge scone and a cappuccino.
Sliding into her favourite booth at the back of the café, Nikki pondered on the email from Liam Flynn to Fred Downs. There was no doubt in her mind that Downs was Downey – to think otherwise would be a coincidence too far. Downey hadn’t replied to the email and it remained to be seen whether the techies could retrieve any more information from that email address. Springer was working on a warrant right now. The phone calls too could be a source of information. Ten calls in total dating from the 6th of July until Flynn’s death. Most, after the first call from Downey, were made by Flynn. Maybe if they’d texted each other there would be some record somewhere in the ether.
Lost in thought, her coffee in front of her, scone eaten, Nikki jumped when someone slid into the booth opposite her. ‘Anybody sitting here?’
What was this idiot playing at? The café was nearly empty. Why choose her booth to sit in? ‘Yeah, I’m waiting for someone. There’s loads of other places you can sit.’
‘Ah, but Nikita, I wanted to sit at your table specifically.’
Nikki’s head shot up, her eyes gliding across the muscular forearms with the all too familiar tattoo, which rested on the table, and on, up to his face. The face was more jowly than she remembered, but his eyes were the sa
me – cold as ice and sharp as knives as they bore into her, stripping her naked, seeking out the darkest most secret parts of her soul. His lips twitched into a taunting smile, as he winked at her.
For a moment, Nikki was frozen in time – her eyes latched on to his, unblinking whilst the rest of her body seemed to cave in on her. Her heart, lungs, even her skin, withered before his toxic appraisal. She wasn’t ready for this. Wasn’t ready to face her worst nightmare and as the thought pulsed through her, she realised that this was the reason he’d chosen to confront her here.
Her hand lashed out to grab her phone from the tabletop, but he was quicker. As her fingers gripped it, his larger, stronger hand gripped her wrist, on top of her bandage, his fingers gouging into the already fragile wounds. He shook her wrist, until her phone clattered onto the table, his eyes never once leaving hers, the smile never budging. It took all of Nikki’s inner reserves not to cry out in pain, but she wouldn’t give him that. Not now … not ever again. She broke eye contact and glanced towards the kitchen area, where Isaac and Grayson worked, but his grip on her arm tightened. ‘Don’t even think about it, sweetheart.’ And he inclined his head towards the window of the café.
Following his gaze, Nikki’s heart took up an erratic beat inside her chest. Parked on the opposite side of the road was a car with a man in the driver’s side and the small, haunted face of her mother peering through the window, in the back seat. Her mother mouthed the words. ‘I’m sorry.’
Even from this distance, her mother’s battered face was obvious. Her lip swollen and bloody, her hair dishevelled, her eyes bruised. Rage surged through Nikki, but she could do nothing with it. If she directed it towards the man in front of her, the only person to suffer would be her mum. She wrenched her enclosed wrist from his grip, uncaring of the pain it caused. His grip tightened for a second and then he laughed and released her. Grim amusement sparked in his eyes, as she began to slide from the booth.
‘I wouldn’t do that, if I were you … not if you want to see the lovely Layla again.’
Nikki stared through the pane at her mum, as the car drove off leaving another man, in a baseball cap, smoking a roll-up on the kerb. How the hell had this happened? Where were Ali’s men? How the hell had this monster got her mum?
‘What do you want?’ Nikki’s voice trembled a little, although her eyes betrayed no fear.
But Downey wanted to toy with her – just like he’d always done. Instead of replying, he smiled as Elaine came and placed a coffee on the table in front of him. ‘Nice little caff, this and right near your place of work. I’ll need to come back when I’ve got more time.’
Despite knowing it would only amuse him, Nikki was unable to stop the retort from spilling from her lips. ‘The only place you’ll be visiting won’t have nice little caffs.’
‘Oh, don’t be like that, Nikita, my sweetheart.’ He leaned towards her, his stale fag breath mixing with the pleasant smells of baking. ‘Surely you’re pleased to see your old man after all this time – haven’t you missed me?’
‘You won’t get away with this, you know. If you harm one hair on her head, I will come after you and I will kill you!’
Downey threw back his head and released a guffaw that echoed through the café, drawing eyes from the nearby table towards them. Nikki wished they’d pick up on the evil that was this man, but had the sense to realise that her wish was futile. To the onlookers, they were probably nothing more sinister than a father and daughter sharing a coffee.
‘You’re not hearing me, Nikita. You should listen to your old man. Show him some respect. Surely you didn’t think I’d be stupid enough to come in here without a backup plan? I’ve got mates watching your dozy little cow of a sister.’ He paused, sipped his coffee and smacked his lips together. ‘Good cup of coffee, that. Anyone ever told you your two daughters are gorgeous – ripe for the picking, if you get my drift.’ He winked at her and took another sip of his drink.
The colour drained from Nikki’s face as a wave of uncontrollable anger made her legs shake. She clenched her fists under the table wanting nothing more than to drive them into this man’s face, but that would be counter-productive. That’s exactly what he was aiming for. He wanted to goad her, just like he had when she was a child. But this time, Nikki wasn’t a child. She was an adult and, pulling her shoulders back, despite every bone in her body telling her to deck him, she inhaled and met his amused gaze and then glanced away with a dismissive shrug. ‘That the best you got, Downey?’
A flicker near his eye was all that revealed that her taunt had caught him off-guard. He’d expected to encounter the child Nikki. He hadn’t expected her to have grown tougher over the years and Nikki was prepared to use that against him if she could.
His smile deepened, but there was a forced quality to it that pleased her. Despite her hammering heart, despite all the odds being stacked against her, she could exert a little control over the situation. All her training kicked in. Her knowledge from years of experience dealing with men just like this, told her that the one ace she had up her sleeve was her ability to goad him by showing no fear. That was what would make him talk and the more he talked, the more time she had to think, the more likely he was to give something away.
‘You’ve always been a little stirring slapper. Always causing problems, always sticking up for the other runt. Lot of good it did you.’ His smile widened and he reached out with his index finger extended and ran it along the scar that marked Nikki’s neck. ‘Thought you’d have got rid of that monstrosity – or at least cover it up. What? Did the plastic surgeons think you were too fucking ugly to bother?’
Recoiling at his touch, Nikki forced her facial muscles not to react. No matter how badly his presence affected her, she had to play the game. She snorted and in a voice dripping with sarcasm, she said, ‘Give me a break. I kept this to remind me that you weren’t man enough to finish the job. How does it feel, Daddy, to have a kid beat you?’
As Downey swallowed, his Adam’s apple spasmed, betraying his anger and for a second, Nikki wondered if she’d gone too far. Then, he flung back his head and again released that awful guffaw. ‘Good try, bitch. But maybe you should show a little more respect, eh? After all, I’ve got sweet, juicy Layla and I have to say she’s looking gooood and my bed’s been cold without her all these years.’
‘She’s a big girl now, Downey. Not my responsibility anymore.’ Uttering the words was like a huge betrayal, but she had no choice. She had to manipulate Downey. She’d no reason to disbelieve that Downey was capable of carrying out his threat. He was a sick fucker, but he wasn’t stupid. No way would he come in here without having all his bases covered. Without an agenda.
‘What do you want? After all these years you turn up. Was it just to kill off Peggy and Hudson, or is there more?’
‘Tut, tut, tut.’ He shook his head, with a mocking woeful expression. ‘You haven’t worked it all out yet. I thought the great DS Parekh would have been able to work it out from all the little clues I sent.’
‘Oh yes – I’ve worked it all out. You killed Hudson to stop him from incriminating you in historic sexual abuse cases.’
‘Oh Nikki, Nikki, Nikki. I thought you were smarter than that – thought you took after me – a chip off the old block, like. Looks like you haven’t even considered the implications of those diaries. Some detective you are.’
Nikki thought she was going to vomit. She yearned to ram her fists, with force, down his smarmy throat. ‘If you’ve got something to say, get it said.’
‘Look, that’s what I’m trying to tell you. I might have done the other things you say, who knows, I suppose Hudson kept evidence – he was stupid enough to. But I didn’t kill him. I warned him. Same as I warned you. It’s not my fault you’re too thick to put the pieces together. But FYI, getting reacquainted with Layla is only a bonus – my real reason for coming back was to give you all a heads-up – but you’ve not managed to suss it out. Look, call it for old times’ sake, or wh
atever. I’ll give you one last clue.’
He fumbled in his pocket for a moment and then threw a small package on the table. ‘You need to make the link with the lad in Cambridge.’
Glancing at his watch, he smiled before standing up. ‘Nice seeing you again, sweetheart – I’ll pass on your love to your mum.’ He clutched his groin, his meaning all too clear, before reaching over and lifting Nikki’s phone. ‘You’ll get this back later, but I don’t want you leaving here for the next twenty minutes.’ He nodded to his mate outside. The thug was built like a mountain – all muscle and brawn. ‘He’ll keep an eye out. Any activity from Trafalgar House before the time’s up and your mum’ll suffer. Don’t forget, I got her away from those thugs you hired – I doubt your kids will be any harder to snatch.’
He smiled, his teeth, what there was left of them, nicotine-stained. ‘That’s a good girl, Nikki. See you later.’ And he walked out of the café, tossed her phone over the road, to the man who caught it deftly in both hands and then raising his hand to touch the tip of his baseball cap in a mock salute, he strolled off down the road.
Chapter 66
Downey could hardly believe his luck. First Layla lands in his lap like a plump chicken ready for the slaughter and then he gets the opportunity to see first-hand what the wonderful Detective Sergeant Nikita Parekh had become.
It had given him a buzz to see that scar still there on her neck. No matter what the bitch said, he relished the fact that every time she looked in the mirror it was there – a constant reminder of him – a reminder that he was in charge. A reminder that no matter where he was, he’d disfigured her – scarred her for life.
