“There was a feeling she could have taken the gun to the police before it came to that.”
Reggie shook his head. “Ach, no, not in those days. She’d have been locked up for possession; everyone was a terrorist suspect back then. She was between a rock and a hard place.” His face brightened. “Still, she’s long out now and remarried. I often see her with her granddaughter around the estate.” He leaned in confidingly. “Of course, if she’d had the wit to get rid of the gun and get out of the house instead of calling the police, no-one would’ve been any the wiser. They could never have tied the gun to anyone because it was unmarked.”
Craig nodded, listening to the story, then he asked what he’d come to ask.
“Were there many murders left unsolved back then because an unmarked weapon was used?”
Boyd shrugged. “A few through the years. Mostly domestics, strangely enough.” He gave a guffaw that would have done Liam proud. “It saved on divorce lawyers I suppose. And back then getting murdered was probably considered more respectable by some than getting divorced. But I’m pretty sure this was the only time the wrong person was blamed because they used the gun.”
Davy could check. Craig had another question.
“I know you were on the investigation team. Tell me about the other members.”
“What do you want to know?”
“Well, I know the pathologist and D.S. are dead. What can you remember about them?”
Reggie frowned, trying to recall. After a moment he nodded. “The pathologist was near retirement then and I heard he’d died of old age a few years back. The sergeant was Harry Rodgers. Nice lad, but not too bright, if you know what I mean. He trailed around after his boss like a puppy.” His expression saddened. “He was killed in the nineties. The land rover he was in was hit by a rocket and he was cut in half.” He shook his head. “Shocking way to go.”
Craig prompted him gently. “And the D.I.? Jack Austin. What happened to him?” He would ask Davy to check him out, but if his hunch was right they would hit a brick wall.
Reggie’s frown returned. “Bright spark. Last I heard he was tipped for the top. I know he went to London for a while on some job. When he came back he went to work in Castlereagh and that was the last I heard of him.” Castlereagh again. “He mustn’t have advanced though or he’d be a senior officer now, wouldn’t he?”
There were other ways to advance.
“Tell me more about him. Did he have a family? Was he friendly with anyone who’s still around?”
“No kids. I heard there was a wife but she left him for another man.”
“He never remarried?”
Reggie shrugged. “Not as far as I heard. Dedicated to the job.” He stared at Craig meaningfully. “You know the type.” Craig said nothing so the sergeant continued, stroking his chin thoughtfully. “As far as people Austin might have been friendly with back then, the only one I can think of you really wouldn’t want to ask. D.C.S. Terry Harrison. But he’s an unhelpful bugger who’ll tell you nothing.”
Craig’s heart sank. He couldn’t ask Harrison or he’d discover that he was working while suspended, and he wouldn’t ask him out of principle. There had to be some other way to find out about Jack Austin. He changed the subject to other things and the next twenty minutes were spent just drinking and having craic before he finally outstayed his welcome and Reggie went to bed. His next port of call was The James’ Bar and a meeting with the man who could help him fill in the gaps.
****
Liam kicked Craig’s desk hard in frustration and then checked that he hadn’t left a dent in the pale wood. He had, but it had company; Craig had left his own dents, plural, as well as several shoe imprints; testament to the stress of being the boss. Liam’s dent should have had ‘Judge Gavin Murphy’ engraved beside it, because it was Murphy’s refusal to grant a search warrant for the farmhouse that was winding him up so much. He decided to vent his ire on everyone in the squad so he stormed out of Craig’s office, but was disappointed to see only Ken, Nicky, Ash and Carmen still there. It didn’t occur to him that it was nearly midnight and most normal people were in their beds. He took the term on-call literally so he expected other people to do the same.
“Where are Davy, Andy and Annette?”
Nicky answered mid yawn. “Annette was at the hospital with Jake last I heard, and Davy left ten minutes ago. He got a call. Andy, well…” Her shrug said everything.
Liam frowned then his pale face broke into a smile. There was only one man who could have phoned Davy at this time of night. The analyst was somewhere rendezvousing with Craig. He turned his attention back to the group.
“Judge Murphy’s refused the warrant on the farmhouse, saying we need more evidence, so all of you keep working to find it and get me inside that house.”
Carmen’s response was to stand up and begin to pack her bag.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
She pointed a small finger at her watch. “The big hand and the little hand both say twelve, so I’m going home to bed.”
Liam’s voice tightened. “You’re doing no such thing. On-call means you’re working. You’re quick enough to take time off in lieu when we’re slack.”
The small Scot continued packing, ignoring him, so Liam’s next words were a growl.
“Constable McGregor, if you walk off this floor now you’ll be walking off this team.”
She rounded on him, her blue eyes on fire. “Just ’cos you’re acting up doesn’t mean that you’re really the boss. You can shout all you like but that’s doesn’t mean you can make everyone do what you want.” She gestured at the others. “This place is a shambles. We have one D.C.I. who’s half asleep and one who shouts, not to mention a Superintendent who has an affair with a psychiatrist and then pushes her down the stairs.”
Nicky jumped to her feet. “He never touched her. She’s bonkers!”
Carmen hissed back, watched by several pairs of widening eyes. “There’s no smoke without fire. He must have done something to warrant suspension.” She began walking towards the exit. “And this case is a mess. Five dead and one missing and not a single suspect after a week. It’s pathetic.”
Nicky gasped. “You nasty, ungrateful, wee hussy.”
All eyes turned to Liam, knowing that he was about to blow. His face darkened and he silenced the room with one word.
“STOP!”
Its sheer volume halted Carmen in her tracks. She turned towards him, a vitriolic reply forming on her lips, but Liam didn’t give her the chance.
“Constable McGregor. You’re finished on this squad. Leave and don’t come back. I’ll send the paperwork through to personnel and they’ll see if some other boss will put up with you, although I doubt it. If you can’t see how tolerant Superintendent Craig has been of you, far too much so in my book, then you’re a very foolish and disloyal woman.” He lifted his arm dramatically and pointed towards the door, as everyone but Ash watched the scene in awe. Ash just looked bemused but then he didn’t know Carmen’s history.
“You can’t get rid of me. You’re only standing in for-”
“I have delegated authority. Now, get out before I have you escorted out.”
The petite constable went to retort again but decided to keep her powder dry instead. As she turned on her heel and walked sharply off the floor, Liam could already picture the letter of complaint being written inside her head.
****
The James Bar. Tuesday. 0. 30 a.m.
Davy glanced around him shiftily, scanning the bar’s dark corners for watching men and running his hands beneath their table’s top for bugs. Craig saw his sweep as he returned from the bar with their drinks and smiled at the budding spook.
“I don’t think I’m important enough for someone to tail me, Davy. And as for bugs, all they’d get would be bar noise. I think we’re safe enough.” He glanced around the pub, still half full despite the late hour.
“Lucky for us this place has a late
licence.”
Davy wasn’t listening; he had ducked down beneath their chairs continuing his search. When he reappeared Craig set a note in front of him.
“I need you to get some information for me.”
The analyst’s eyes widened. “But you’re…” He broke off, embarrassed, and Craig added the missing word.
“Suspended? Yes, I know. I’m hoping that you’ll do it anyway. If you don’t feel you can, just say no. I won’t be annoyed.”
Well, he would be, but he wouldn’t say. The vehemence of Davy’s head shaking both pleased and amused him.
“I’ll defo do it, chief. It’s like being a s…spy.”
Intrigue had won out where loyalty alone might not have. He would never know.
“You’ll need to cover your tracks well. If this traces back to you, you’ll get in big trouble. Do you understand?”
Another nod and a faraway gaze said that Davy was already working out a programme to download the information without leaving a sign. Craig tapped the paper to regain his attention.
“OK, here’s what I need. First, I need to know everything there is to know about this man; Jack Austin. He was a detective inspector here in the late seventies and eighties, and he was seconded to London for a while. When he returned he worked at Castlereagh Station. That’s where his trail disappears and I need to know where he went. Be careful. There may be a flag on any search for his records. And, just a warning, but apparently he was friends with D.C.S. Harrison back in the day.”
Davy smiled enigmatically, just as he had in his photoshoot. Craig wondered whether to raise the topic but decided to save it for a happier time.
“S…Should I hold that against him?”
It made Craig laugh. “Up to you. I’m sure Harrison had some nice acquaintances.”
“But not for long.”
“Very funny. OK, second. Of all the cases of deaths using unmarked weapons, how many of those cases had officers on them who can’t be traced now. You understand what I want?”
Davy sipped his coke and nodded. “You w…want to find out if any of them other than Austin have dropped off the face of the earth.”
****
Helen Connolly was getting ready for bed when the phone rang and her heart sank as she heard Jennifer Somerville’s voice. She’d already done everything that Somerville had asked; so what in Heaven’s name did she want now? She soon found out. The agent ran through the niceties of “hello” and “how are you?” before saying “I’m at your front door. May I come in?”
Not again. Didn’t the woman believe in making appointments? And why did these people always do their business at night?
Connolly opened the front door grudgingly, nodding curtly at her two protection officers as she did. It wasn’t their fault but she really hated being followed, even though she knew they might be saving her life. She said as much and was pleasantly surprised when Somerville agreed to stand them down.
“That’s what I’ve come to tell you, Mrs Connolly. You won’t be needing protection any longer. Thanks to you planting the bug for us, we’ve obtained enough evidence to detain Mr Dallat. He’s being held in Antrim Station pending trial on terrorism charges. He was part of a dissident plot to bomb Parliament Buildings and because of your efforts we’ve also arrested four other men.”
Helen Connolly felt behind her for a chair, sitting down quickly before she fell. The NCA’s suspicions had been real. Kieran Dallat, the man with whom she’d shared a board room every week for years was a real live terrorist instead of some old has-been. She felt sick. She’d actually passed the man biscuits and tea. Why, she’d been planning to have a romantic dream about him that very night! Somerville read her mind, or thought she had.
Her voice softened. “Evil isn’t contagious, Helen.” She smiled. “At least not as far as we know.”
Connolly’s disgust was replaced by panic and self-preservation. “Will he know it was me?”
“No. We’d already bugged his house and car pretty obviously. He found them all but he’ll probably just think that one slipped through the net.” She pre-empted the Chair’s next question. “We seized his phone as soon as he was arrested and removed the bug you left, so you’re completely in the clear.”
She stretched out a hand. Connolly shook it limply, still in a state of shock.
“Thank you, Mrs Connolly. You’ve helped us save lives.” As Somerville reached the front door she turned back. “I hope we won’t need to call on you again.”
She was out the door and into a waiting car before Helen Connolly really heard her words. Hope? HOPE? She grabbed the whisky bottle from the cabinet, breaking her golden rule of no alcohol just before bed and poured it straight from the bottle down her throat.
****
Stephen James’ mouth stretched into a grimace as the current raked through his muscles, twisting them into a spasm even longer than the last. As his kidnapper removed the jump leads from his nerve endings and turned down the generator’s dial the Major’s teeth unlocked for long enough to let him swear.
His captor shook his head in mock dismay. “Tut tut, Major. I thought officers and gentlemen never swore.”
As James swore again the spittle on his lips sprayed across the mud stained floor. His expletive was accompanied by a roared threat.
“YOU’LL NEVER GET AWAY WITH THIS! Someone will spot I’m missing.”
He was surprised by the smile in response. It was carefree, as if the man in front of him wasn’t bothered if he was caught. The Keeper’s tone echoed his expression.
“I’m banking on it, Major. They’ll know that you’re missing by now and they’ll come to find you. But too late. You will already be dead.”
The old warrior gathered all his strength, drawing himself upright in his chair to speak again, this time with more control.
“I might be dead but my death will leave a trail that leads to you. You’ll be caught eventually, no matter how hard you hide.”
His abductor’s smile was joined by a nod of his head. “Undoubtedly. But I will already be long gone.” He changed the subject before James could inquire further. “You haven’t asked me why I chose you from all the others. Aren’t you curious?”
James narrowed his eyes defiantly; if this bastard thought that he was going to let him justify himself then he could have another think. His answer was a ball of saliva that landed at his captor’s feet. It earned him a punch to the jaw.
“Gutter tactics, Major. I expected that from the others but not from you.”
He reached across to the generator and ratcheted the dial right up, then he touched the lead’s metal ends together, showering them both with sparks.
“Time for some more stimulation, but first I’ll give you a little clue.” He leaned in close to James’ face, but not so close that James could reach him with a head butt. “We’ve met before, Major, in the bad old days. And let’s just say what you and others did then has made me suffer for thirty years.”
Before a coherent thought could form in Stephen James’ mind his abductor pushed the leads hard against his groin, telling his muscles to tighten and make his back arch, his jaw clench and his heart ball up like a fist in his chest. He timed the shock’s duration perfectly; long enough to cause excruciating pain but not long enough to kill. As his torturer prepared the leads for his next assault, James’ mind raced with where they could have met. He’d settled on his captor being a terrorist when the leads were applied again, then his mind blanked and the room went black as he slumped unconscious in his chair.
****
Davy’s research only took thirty minutes then he left the squad-room to make the call to Craig, not escaping Nicky’s laser like glare as he did. She squinted after him and then turned her gaze on Ash, who was typing in blissful ignorance, his head bobbing to the beat playing in his ears. His bliss was disturbed by Nicky suddenly looming over his desk, and destroyed entirely when she yanked the earphones off his head.
“OW! What was tha
t for?”
She pulled herself up to her full five-feet-three and placed her hands firmly on her hips. Liam saw what was happening and turned to watch; it was nice to see someone other than him at the receiving end of her rage.
“For listening to music while you’re working.”
“What? No-one told me I wasn’t allowed.”
She detached one hand to wag a finger. “They shouldn’t have to! This is a serious place of work.”
Liam snorted loudly, pointing at Andy’s Toblerone filled mouth just as she turned. He hadn’t gone home early as everyone had assumed but had been keeping vigil at the hospital with Annette. Nicky hesitated for a moment, wondering whether yanking a chocolate bar from a D.C.I’s mouth was a sacking offence and deciding that it might be, before staring daggers at Liam and then returning to the real reason that she was picking on Ash.
“What’s Davy up to?”
Ash’s brown eyes widened and his mahogany tanned skin turned an interesting shade of grey. “How the he…hmmm…how would I know?”
She leaned in menacingly. “You’re his friend, aren’t you?”
The analyst took his life in his hands. “Aren’t you? He’s known you longer than he’s known me.”
“But….” Nicky searched for the correct reasoning. “You’re his age. He thinks of me like a…” Mum was what she’d been going to say, but she was only ten years older than Davy no matter how she behaved. “Big sister. And boys never tell their sisters anything.”
An arched eyebrow from Liam said she was beginning to sound ridiculous. After a second she decided that Ash knew nothing and was just turning to have a go at Liam when Davy reappeared.
“Where were you?”
He looked shocked. “Take a guess.”
“You turned left. The bathrooms are the other way.”
The Keeper Page 28
