by JANICE FROST
Neal listened, intrigued. He’d liked Fin O’Shea. He hoped fervently that the lad hadn’t slipped back into ‘the life,’ as Blunt put it. “What’s happened to Darren Sharp? Do you think he’s still alive?”
“He took off in his brother’s car, but it was found abandoned a few streets away. Either he’s holed up somewhere in case whoever took a shot at him and his brother is still after him, or,” Blunt met Neal’s gaze, “if Darren had reason to believe that Cornish or O’Shea was responsible for the shooting in some way, he’ll be looking for revenge.”
“You mean he could be on his way to Stromford? Great. That’s all we need.”
“Look, I’m following up a lead coming here. I need to speak with this Fin character ASAP, but between you and me, this killing has all the hallmarks of a hit. A professional job. In and out like the invisible man. And believe me, even if any of Liam’s cohorts did see something, they ain’t going to talk to the police.”
“But Darren might. If we can find him,” Neal said.
“Yeah, well. Don’t hold your breath.”
An officer came to tell them that Brattleby-Brown was ready to restart.
Back in the interview room, Neal sensed a change in the atmosphere. Brattleby-Brown’s manner towards them was distinctly less hostile. He even acknowledged their return with a brief nod. Neal restarted the tape.
“As you can see,” Brattleby-Brown began, “my client is in poor shape, physically. He has been subjected to two separate physical assaults in the past two days. It is my opinion that he needs to go straight to A&E at the conclusion of this interview. But first, he would like to . . . ahem, tell his story.”
Neal glanced at Blunt, wondering if he too was amused by Brattleby-Brown’s attempt at cooperation. He said, “Okay, Hector, let’s hear your story.”
Hector spoke in a monotone. “I just remembered. Fin took me to see Liam Sharp.”
“At your request?”
“Yes.”
“Fin O’Shea hadn’t seen Liam Sharp since he was sixteen years old. He probably never wanted to see him again. Did you blackmail Fin into arranging a meeting between you and Liam?”
“Yes. I told him that unless he cooperated, I’d make sure Lizzie Hamilton got to know that Ruth killed her son.” Slightly inaccurate, but Neal let it pass.
“And the meeting was arranged in order for you to purchase cocaine from Liam Sharp with a view to selling it in Cambridge?”
Hector corrected him. “To buy some coke for recreational use only, yes. I never intended to sell the stuff.”
“And you made subsequent trips to London for the purpose of purchasing cocaine from Liam Sharp?”
“Yes.”
“Over how long a period?”
“Twenty, twenty-two months.”
“And this was purely for your own personal use?” Neal’s tone was disbelieving. “Why did you steal from Liam Sharp? Was your gambling addiction so out of hand that you couldn’t even finance it from selling drugs?”
“I told you I wasn’t selling,” Hector still insisted. “I went there intending to buy and it was just . . . there . . . It was an, er, opportunistic crime.”
“And this was the stash we recovered from Dana’s bedroom.”
“Yes. Dana was no innocent, you know,” Hector whined. “She agreed to hide the stuff in her room in return for a cut. I wasn’t lying when I said she was a druggie.”
That much was true, but Dana used drugs for recreational purposes. It was unlikely that she’d been selling.
“Come on, Hector,” Neal said, impatient now. “Tell us the rest of it.”
“Darren Sharp paid me a visit early yesterday evening. Beat the shit out of me. Fin got him to agree to give me some time to pay back what I stole, or come up with the cash.”
“Got yourself in a nice mess, haven’t you, sonny?” DI Blunt said.
Brattleby-Brown weighed in. “My client is guilty of purchasing for personal recreational use only. He never sold the cocaine that came into his possession. The theft of the drugs was opportunistic.”
Yeah, right. They’d recovered a substantial amount of coke from Dana’s room, far more than an individual would keep at home for recreational use. Neal was in no doubt that Hector had intended to sell. He was equally certain that Brattleby-Brown would argue otherwise. He would magic up some mitigating circumstances and get Hector off with minimum damage to his reputation and future career.
“So, Fin got you a stay of grace. Tell me, just how did you intend to pay Liam back?”
And now Hector did look uneasy. “I hadn’t worked that out yet,” he muttered, picking at his bloodied lip. “There wasn’t time before . . . this happened.” Supposedly he meant Liam’s untimely death.
“Who else did you tell about your predicament?” Neal asked.
A pause. “Only Fin knew. Maybe Ruth, if Fin told her.”
“You sure about that?” Neal had picked up on the pause.
“I’m sure.”
“Convenient for you, Liam taking a bullet to the head like that. If it wasn’t for his kid brother running around like a loose cannon, you’d be able to sit back and relax,” Blunt commented.
Brattleby-Brown gave an exaggerated sigh. “Mr Cornish was at home last night. He popped out to an all-night pharmacy to get some painkillers. The pharmacist will remember seeing a young man with a badly beaten face.”
Neal didn’t suppose for a minute that Hector had shot Liam Sharp. And yet, fatally wounded and dying, Hector and Fin had been all Liam could talk about.
“DI Blunt, do you have any more questions?” he asked. The DI shook his head.
“I have one more,” Neal said. “How did you get the cash together to buy from Darren Sharp twenty-two months ago? Your father had already cut your allowance, so how did you afford it?”
“Russ Marsh gave me a loan.”
“Just like that?”
“Yes.”
“Did Russ lend you more money recently?”
“No.”
If Hector was telling the truth, Paul had lied about the cause of the row between him and Russ. It wasn’t about Russ lending Hector money. Unless he’d only recently found out about that.
The interview ended with a few concluding words from Neal, for the benefit of the recording.
“Watch your back, son,” Blunt cautioned Hector as they left the room. He was warning Hector to look out for Darren Sharp. Blunt’s words recalled something Neal had heard before. The quarrel between Russ Marsh and Paul Cornish, and Russ warning Paul to watch his back. And Lesley Curran had asserted that Russ Marsh might have got himself killed because he discovered that his business partner was involved in corrupt business practices.
And if Paul Cornish was involved with serious organised criminals, the last thing he — or they — needed was his son attracting the wrong sort of notice.
A scene played out in Neal’s head. Hector, out of his depth, desperate, appealing to his father for help. Asking for money to pay off his debt to Liam. Paul Cornish, arrogant, angry at his son for tainting his home by bringing drugs into it, afraid that it might draw attention to his own much bigger involvement in the drugs game. Angrier still at a low life like Darren Sharp beating the shit out of his son, and daring to make threats on his life. Paul Cornish wasn’t the type of man who would stand for that, no matter that the fault had been Hector’s in the first place. What would Paul do? He wouldn’t get his own hands dirty, certainly. He had powerful associates, the kind who could take care of his problems for him.
A hit. In and out like the invisible man, that’s what Blunt had said of Liam Sharp’s killer. Neal was convinced they were getting to the heart of the matter, but it brought him little sense of progress.
Chapter Seventeen
PJ decided to walk back to the hospital. She needed time to think, not just about the case, but also about her conversation with Steve earlier that morning. She was glad that no one at the station had asked how things were going. She couldn�
��t have trusted herself to speak without bursting into tears. She felt like she was grieving already. All the hopes and dreams she’d entertained about their future together now hung in tatters.
At the hospital, she stopped to buy a couple of coffees from the café. One for her, one for Ruth. PJ had had to leave shortly after Lizzie’s hasty departure, she wondered how Ruth had coped. Poor Lizzie. Life just kept throwing her blows. It did that to some people, heaping misfortune upon misfortune. What if this sad business over Steve was the start of a run of bad luck for herself? Snap out of it. It wasn’t in PJ’s nature to be miserable, but right now she felt a little self-pity was allowed.
PJ was glad to see a young man with Ruth when she looked through the window in the hospital room door. Must be Fin. She tapped, softly, because Cam looked to be asleep.
Fin opened the door and she handed him a cup. He looked dishevelled, and was that a speck or two of dried blood on his sleeve? PJ introduced herself. He could have her coffee. He looked like he needed it more than she did.
Ruth looked up wearily from the chair by Cam’s bedside. “Fin knows I told you about the fire, as well as Lizzie overhearing what I said.”
“It was an accident,” Fin said. “She was only fourteen.”
“I know,” PJ said.
“Her father should have spoken up at the time.”
“Sit down, Fin,” PJ said. “There’s another matter I need to discuss with you. That story you told us about Dana Schell being into drugs. Did Hector Cornish put you up to that?”
Ruth and Fin exchanged glances. There was no reason for them to deny it now. “Yes,” said Ruth. “He was afraid the police would think the drugs they found in Dana’s room belonged to him, so he wanted us to back up his story that they were hers. Are Fin and I going to be in trouble over that?”
For lying to the police and hampering their progress on an investigation? PJ was evasive. “Never mind about that for now. Look, is there anything else either of you need to tell me about? Hector Cornish is in a lot of trouble.” PJ could tell from Fin’s face that he was holding something back. “We suspect you introduced Hector to Liam Sharp,” she said.
Fin sighed. “It’s worse than you know.” He gave Ruth an apologetic glance. “I’m sorry, love. I kept this from you because I didn’t want you to have even more to worry about after Cam took ill. Hector stole a kilo of coke from Liam Sharp. Liam sent his brother to get it back or get the cash equivalent, but Hector no longer had the stuff. You lot picked it up from Dana Schell’s room.” He nodded at PJ. “Darren would have killed Hector there and then if I hadn’t intervened and bought him some time to come up with a solution.”
“Here’s what you don’t know,” PJ said. “Liam Sharp was shot dead in the early hours of this morning. Before he died, he mentioned Hector’s name to the police, and yours too, Fin. He was rambling, but he said Hector’d stolen something from him. Liam’s brother, Darren, was injured. He survived but fled. His present whereabouts are unknown. Do you have any idea where he could be, Fin?”
Fin’s eyes were wide with fear and disbelief. “Hiding out? In case the killer comes after him to finish him off too?” He paused. “Here in Stromford, looking for revenge?” His voice was shaky.
“But why would Darren connect the shooter to Hector,” Ruth said, “or . . . or . . . Fin? Someone like Liam must have plenty of enemies.”
“We don’t know for sure that he has,” PJ said.
Fin sat, staring at the floor. Then he looked up. “Hector said his father was taking care of it. I thought he meant his debt to Liam.” He caught PJ’s eye. “What if Hector’s father . . . ?”
PJ whipped out her phone and called Neal.
* * *
Neal was on his way back to his office with Blunt when his phone vibrated. PJ’s message sent a shiver of excitement through him. Hector had told Fin that his father would ‘take care’ of his problem. This seemed to lend substance to his surmise that Paul Cornish was behind the shooting of Liam and Darren Sharp.
Tom and Ava were at their desks. Neal beckoned to them and they joined him and Blunt in his office, where he explained his theory.
“If you’re right, it’s going to be practically impossible to prove,” Blunt said, gloomily. “Tell me about the cases you’re involved with, the ones that seem to intersect with mine.”
Neal, with contributions from Ava and Tom, told him the story.
“Totally different modus operandi in each case,” Blunt observed. “Dana’s was the more careless of the two, but that doesn’t necessarily mean you’re looking at two different killers.”
“I take it you’ve got your theories. If Marsh was onto Cornish’s corrupt practices, Cornish would have needed to take care of him, fast, even though he must have known that his partner’s death would inevitably turn the spotlight on him, and on their business affairs. I guess he had to take the risk and try to limit the damage,” Neal said.
Ava reminded them about the text messages between Dana Schell and Russ Marsh. “Gail Cornish had an affair with Russ Marsh, and claimed it was a one-night stand. Paul gave Russ a black eye and it was allegedly all over and done with. But we’ve recently been given reason to believe that Gail and Russ carried on seeing each other. If so, Dana was certainly well-placed to discover it. It’s still the most credible explanation for her trying to blackmail Russ.”
“Poor Russ,” Neal said. “He suspects his partner — whose wife he’s still carrying on with — of corruption, and then Dana tells him she knows his secret and wants paying for her silence. Add to that his estrangement from his daughter, and it’s a wonder he didn’t commit bloody suicide.”
“Have you managed to speak with either of the wives about the affair?” Blunt asked.
“Not yet. It’s been on the list of questions that need answers, but Val Marsh’s grandson was suddenly rushed to hospital. He’s out of danger now, so it’s probably time to have that conversation, both with her and Gail Cornish.”
Tom, who had been quiet for a bit, said, “Do you think Gail Cornish knew what Paul was up to? The money laundering, I mean? Surely she must have had her suspicions?”
“She wasn’t involved in the business. She was used to her husband working long hours, and being away a lot.” Ava looked thoughtful. “It’s possible that Russ let her know. Remember that day she called us and requested a visit? As well as telling us about her affair with Russ, she also mentioned the fight between the two men. Gail said she was telling us this because she was concerned we’d get to hear about it and regard Paul as a prime suspect, but we probably wouldn’t have known about either at all if she hadn’t said anything. Maybe she was telling us in case we didn’t find out?”
“Like she wanted us to suspect, and investigate him,” Tom added, somewhat unnecessarily.
There was a silence as everyone appeared to consider the implications of this. Neal said, “Dana finding out about the affair could have been the trigger for Gail revealing her suspicions about Paul to Russ. She tells Russ, Russ confronts Paul . . .”
“Gail must have been terrified that Paul would find out that she was the one who alerted Russ. And if things aren’t bad enough, Dana is murdered too and we find drugs in the house,” Ava added.
“You lot certainly have a mess on your hands,” Blunt said. “Most murders on my patch tend to be drugs and gang related these days.” Neal wasn’t sure if his tone was envious or grateful. “Any chance we can speak to this Fin character sometime soon?”
“I’ve sent a patrol car to pick Fin up from the hospital,” Neal said. “Should be on his way.”
“Good.” Blunt retrieved a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and excused himself.
* * *
Val had returned from the hospital exhausted, having stayed with Ruth until Cam’s condition started to improve. Even then she’d been reluctant to leave, but Ruth had persuaded her and Lizzie to go.
Lizzie dropped Val home at around four in the morning and she went straight to be
d. She awoke five hours later, feeling refreshed. She phoned Ruth and learned that Fin was with her. He must have left Cambridge in the middle of the night to arrive so early.
Val tried calling her sister to tell her not to set out for the hospital too soon. To her annoyance, there was no answer, so she left a message, hoping that Lizzie had not gone already. Ruth and Fin deserved some time alone together with their son.
Val suppressed a pang of jealousy. Ever since Will’s death, she’d felt that Lizzie had inveigled her way deeper and deeper into Ruth’s life. She seemed to have latched onto Ruth as a surrogate for Will.
Val had tried talking to Russ about it, but he clammed up at any mention of Will. Maybe he couldn’t contemplate losing a child in that way. And then Lizzie had lost Craig too. In the face of Lizzie’s loss, Val’s resentment had seemed selfish and petty. Nevertheless, her sense of being usurped by her sister still stung.
She’d even overheard Lizzie remark to Stephen that Ruth had ‘two mothers,’ and this hurt her. She had concealed her feelings expertly, as she always did. All through her childhood, people had compared her unfavourably to Lizzie, her parents in particular. Val, who’d eschewed cuddles and been stridently independent practically from birth, had seemed cold to them after the affectionate Lizzie.
The sisters’ different temperaments had led to the two being treated differently too. Whenever she and her sister discussed their childhood, it seemed to Val that Lizzie had grown up in a different family, gone to a different school. It hadn’t been until Val moved away from Stromford and out of her older sister’s shadow that she’d felt like a person in her own right.
