Craig cut in, lifting a sheet from the file. “You called all of these people?”
John nodded. “Background info.” He reached for another biscuit. “These biscuits are far better than the ones at your flat.” But Craig wasn’t ready to be distracted yet so John sighed and returned to the calls. “I also called the GMC to find everywhere that she’d worked, then I phoned the lead consultants and they brought me up to date, right up until she was suspended. After twenty-thirteen she returned to Italy for a while for treatment and that’s where she first saw a picture of you.”
Craig gawped at him in shock. “In Italy? Where?”
“Some magazine was running a feature on Italian concert pianists and they wrote a piece about your mum. She was quoted in the article, so she must have known it was being written. Anyway, there was a photograph of your whole family so Sophia must have seen it and developed a crush. And that was that; she came after you.”
Liam went to make a wisecrack but Craig’s glance said to save it for when things weren’t so raw. He shook his head.
“My mum didn’t say a word about it.”
“Why would she have? She’s probably been written about loads of times in her job.”
Craig closed the file and slumped back on the settee. “So now what?”
John had been eyeing the last biscuit but Craig’s question made him look away long enough for Liam to nab it first.
“Would you steal my grave that quick, Liam?”
Liam took a bite, smiling. “If it was lined with these I would.”
Craig had had enough banter. “Would you two shut up about biscuits! I’ll buy you a gross of them if you’ll tell me how I’m going to get back to work.”
Liam shook his head. “God, you’re going to be shocking when you retire.”
John decided it was safer not to torment his friend any longer.
“OK, Sophia was examined physically by two medical examiners and they agreed that her wounds were a combination of self-inflicted before you’d arrived; the lacerations and bruises were almost a day old, and the cuts on her head could be explained by her banging her head back against the wall, exactly as you’d said. I saw the photographs and she’s got no case. The report went to the C.C. along with a copy of this file and the upshot is…” He paused for effect. “…as of two hours ago you were officially back at work. Sean Flanagan was going to call you and tell you himself but I asked if I could.” He gestured at Craig’s jeans. “So if I were you I’d go and put on a suit.”
Craig’s jaw dropped. “No disciplinary hearing? That’s it? It’s over?”
“Well, Flanagan did say you could press charges against Sophia if you wanted, or he could for wasting police time, but I said that you probably wouldn’t want to-”
Liam cut in. “I bloody well would! She could have wrecked your career, not to mention your relationship.”
Craig shook his head, momentarily lost for words. He didn’t want to charge the psychiatrist but… John knew what was coming next so he pre-empted Craig’s question.
“Yes, she’s already in treatment. The Chief Constable and I applied to the courts for an assessment and care order. She’ll get the help that she needs.”
Craig nodded. He didn’t hate Sophia; he just wanted her out of his life, and for her to get treatment so she could have a happy future and not do this to anyone else.
After a moment’s silent eating and drinking Liam began counting in his head, knowing exactly what was coming next. He wasn’t wrong. When he’d reached twenty Craig turned towards him with a question on his lips. Liam mouthed the words as he said them.
“What happened with Carmen?” Craig paused for a response but none came so he continued. “Nicky says she’s gone and the last time anyone saw her she was cosying up to Harrison. That’s a combination that we could well do without.”
Liam shifted in his seat. “Ah well, you see. You know how I hate disloyalty and all…”
“So she was disloyal to you and you kicked her into touch?”
The D.C.I. looked offended. “Not to me, to you. She said you probably had hit Sophia. That you were just the sort.”
Craig puffed out his cheeks, exhaling slowly. “I knew she hated me, but…”
Liam nodded firmly. “That’s what I thought so I booted her off the team. It was her final strike. And you’d already given her too many chances.”
Craig shrugged. “You’re probably right. Thanks, Liam. At least it saves Ken having to pretend to ask her out to save her pride, but we’ll really have to watch our backs if she’s mates with Harrison now.”
The three men groaned in unison. It would take more than a few chocolate biscuits to make anyone feel good about that.
Chapter Thirteen
The C.C.U. Friday 16th October, 11 a.m.
By Friday the case was wrapped up, apart from a few answers that Craig was still determined to get; despite MI5 and the army closing ranks. He would wait but he would never let it go.
The little things had been cleared up quickly. Jack Austin had adopted a fictional alias, Joshua Quinn, for his visit and had hired the Focus at the airport, then collected the Mazda that he’d bought online and arranged to be left at the farm. Revenge must always have been on his mind; he’d bought the Katesbridge farm ten years earlier in his ex-wife’s maiden name and put a day farmer in to run it, ready for his return. Richard Schofield had been spot on as an eye witness; they’d found Austin’s old RUC overcoat in the Mazda’s boot. A dark green one worn by the police thirty odd years before, when Jack Austin had been a young cop.
Craig gazed out of his office window at the river; Austin’s body still hadn’t been found, but he would see the place where he’d killed himself every day. He shook his head sadly. Everyone, including him, saw the victims of The Troubles as the people wounded, killed or left behind to mourn, and they were, but how many of them thought of the invisible damage to the people who’d worked for justice? The men and women who’d gathered up what was left of the bodies destroyed in bombs, or the victims of paramilitary woundings and assassinations. Men and women who had done things in the name of peace that still caused them guilt decades on, often left unsupported because of the macho times in which they’d worked.
He watched the dockside activities for a moment, marvelling at how busy the Lagan was nowadays, before returning to his earlier thoughts. Further digging on the Murnaghans had proved his suspicions right. The betting shop where Gerry M had placed his bets had been a front for dissidents; it was one of the locations that Kieran Dallat had obligingly coughed up during questioning. The old dogs had still been up to their tricks.
He yawned suddenly, exhausted by the previous two weeks. They’d been hard ones and not just in work. Jake was conscious now but his spinal cord had been bruised so he had months of rehab ahead, although the return of some movement in his legs was an encouraging sign. Even so it would be months until he was fit to return to work, in a wheelchair at first and then, fingers crossed, walking again eventually. The fact that there was still no sign of his ex-partner meant that he would be recuperating under guard. It was unlikely that Aaron would try to hurt Jake again but until he was locked in a cell he wasn’t prepared to take the risk.
Relationships could be dynamite, especially when one partner had a jealous streak. Jake and Aaron, Annette and Pete; he’d had a close shave with Sophia and they’d never even kissed! He shook his head. How did anyone’s romance last? Then he thought of his parents and smiled; some people just got it right.
He was watching a ferry set down its walkway, preparing for its passengers’ return, when his reverie was interrupted by a knock on the office door. The outline said that it was Davy.
“Come.”
The analyst entered hesitantly, reminding Craig of how shy he’d been when he’d first joined the squad. Back then he’d made Nicky accompany him whenever he’d had something to ask.
“Grab a seat. Do you want a coffee?”
The technical w
hizz shook his head. “No thanks. I’ve-”
The abrupt stop told Craig that this wasn’t a good news call.
“That means I probably won’t like whatever you came in about, but I don’t shoot messengers so go ahead.”
Davy’s face said that it was more than one thing and he was weighing up which to tell Craig first. “Do you want the good news or the not s…so good?”
“Let’s try the first. I’m in that kind of mood.”
A blush flared across Davy’s face and he smiled shyly. “Maggie and I got engaged last night.”
Craig’s jaw dropped in shock; whatever he’d thought Davy was going to say that definitely hadn’t been it. He was far too young! He wasn’t of course, he was twenty-eight, and just because he would probably be ninety before he tied the knot didn’t mean that everyone had to be. He extended a hand.
“That’s brilliant news. Congratulations. Maggie is a lovely woman.”
His next words were out before he even knew he’d said them.
“Is that what the modelling shoot was about? To buy a ring?”
The blush flooded into Davy’s hair and his eyes widened like a cartoon cat’s. “You s…saw it?”
“Yes. Sorry. Well actually, Lucia saw it first, then she showed it to me and Ken. Don’t worry, we haven’t told anyone. But it explained your tattoo and short hair.”
The analyst’s hand flew to his neck. It was repopulating with dark hairs quickly and it wouldn’t be long before his flowing mane was back. Not soon enough as far as he was concerned.
He gave Craig a rueful smile.
“Never again. I felt like a real prat. But they offered Ash five grand if he could get another s…scientist for the interview, and it was too much money to pass up.” He glanced away shyly. “For the ring…”
Craig grinned. “I wondered if that was why you’d done it when I saw engagement rings on your computer last week.” He nodded towards the door. “Have you told the others?”
“Not yet. I’ll do it tonight at the pub. I’d like Maggie there w…when I do.”
“Any date set?”
The blushing pin-up winced and Craig knew he was about to hear the second, not so good, thing that he’d come in about.
“No, but dates are the other thing I w…wanted to talk to you about, if that’s OK?”
Craig gave a small nod.
“W…Well, you know I’ve been liaising with Interpol about Joanne Greer’s killing, and also on the trail of Ronnie Carlton and the rest of the s…sect?”
“Yes, and?”
The analyst sat forward eagerly, hoping that some of his excitement would rub off on Craig. “They’re picking up snippets of information on both, and, because my PhD’s on technology in criminal pursuits, they’ve said they’d like me s…seconded over there for a few months.”
He stopped dead, scanning Craig’s face for a reaction. When the detective said nothing Davy added a sweetener.
“Ash is a brilliant analyst and he’s free to cover me while I’m away. He’d be in touch with me all the time, s…so if he hit any problems-”
Craig had been thinking, but now he held up a hand to interrupt. He didn’t relish losing Davy, but he wasn’t going to hold him back. It was a legitimate request, it would help his PhD and it might help them to solve two open cases as well.
“Thanks for thinking of Ash. I’m sure he’ll be a great asset while you’re away…”
Davy was momentarily put out. He didn’t want Ash being a great asset, just an OK one. He didn’t need someone stealing his spot full time. Craig read his mind and smiled, continuing.
“And of course you must go; it will be brilliant experience for you. Two questions. Where will you be based and any idea how long they’ll want you for?”
Davy was startled; he’d expected much more of a fight. It made him shorten the three months that he’d intended to ask for to two. He would just have to work fast.
“Paris. They’re happy with any date you choose and it will only be for two months.”
Craig nodded and stood up. “Fine. I suggest you tell Nicky before she hears it on the grapevine. You know how she can be.” He opened the door. “Would you mind sending Annette in now, please.”
Annette still hadn’t said anything about her health and Katy wouldn’t tell him if she’d even kept her appointment, so he was in the dark until or unless Annette decided to tell him what was wrong. But she hadn’t looked quite as pale in the past few days, so he was keeping his fingers crossed. Meanwhile, now that the case was over, he had to deal with the other things that had been piling up. Number one was Ken’s leaving party that evening, which looked like it would turn into Davy’s engagement bash as well. Ken and Lucia were taking two weeks holiday before his return to base and he would be badly missed on the squad, although something the soldier had said earlier that week hinted that his policing career might not be at a complete end.
Number two was the fact that they were several staff members down. With Ken and Carmen gone, Davy’s secondment and Jake out of action for a while, he needed to think of some new recruits for the team. Craig didn’t know it but his problems were just about to get bigger.
Before Annette could join him Nicky put through an internal call. It was Terry Harrison. As soon as he said “Hello, Craig” the detective knew he was in for trouble. Craig said nothing, just waited for the axe to drop.
“I have a new staff officer.”
Craig guessed who it was immediately and he didn’t hide his sarcasm. “I hope you and Constable McGregor will be very happy together.”
Harrison’s reply was as smooth as the snake that he was. “Oh, we will. Especially as she’s telling me all your little secrets. I just called to tell you to watch your back.”
The line went dead and Craig hadn’t cut it. He slumped back in his chair, imagining what Carmen might have said. She could tell Harrison anything that she wanted, but it was what might actually be true that worried him. As his mind raced back through the fifteen months she’d spent with them, he knew that the only way to put his mind at rest would be to pull every case they’d worked together and go through them with a fine tooth comb. Harrison might just have been trying to unnerve him but in his book forewarned was fore-armed.
He was just starting a list for Nicky when Annette entered, so he set it on one side and beckoned her to a seat.
“You wanted to see me, sir?”
Her voice and posture were guarded but Craig decided to chance making them worse by asking how she was, knowing she would be within her rights to tell him to butt out.
“I just wanted to ask how you were, Annette. You looked pretty unwell for a while, although I have to say you’ve been looking better in the past few days-”
She cut across him. “Did Katy tell you I cancelled my appointment? Is that why you called me in?”
He smiled, half at Katy keeping her confidentiality so well and half at Annette acting like he was her dad.
“Katy didn’t tell me anything. I had no idea whether you’d gone or not until just now.” He leaned forward, trying to break down the wall between them. “Look, Annette. I’ve no power to make you tell me what’s wrong but I’m not asking just to be nosy; I’m genuinely concerned about you.”
She shook her head. “I’m sorry, sir. I know you mean to be kind but this is my business and I need to handle it.”
Craig knew when to give up so he changed the subject. “Your witness, Schofield. Nicky said you’d been doing something there?”
Her face brightened. “Yes. It turns out he fought in the Falklands War and when he returned home he suffered a breakdown, walked out of the family home and basically disappeared. That’s how he ended up on the streets. I found his son and he wants to see him, so I’ve arranged a meeting next week on neutral ground and we’ll take it from there.”
Billy Hart’s murder had helped someone after all. Before he could ask anything else Annette got up to leave.
“If there’s nothing mo
re then I’d like to go, sir.”
He was left even more worried than he’d been before she’d come in.
****
The James Bar. Friday, 10 p.m.
The party was going well. People were drinking a lot and eating even more, all except Annette and Mike who were already packing up to go. Davy and Maggie’s announcement had made Nicky cry and everyone else cheer and prompted a great deal of teasing about who would be next.
As Mike passed Craig to retrieve his coat the pathologist deliberately caught his eye and Craig read something there that he didn’t understand. Mike looked happy; very happy. It didn’t fit with Annette’s sombre mood. Liam saw Craig watching the couple as they left and he sidled over, sporting a drunken grin.
“Annette’ll be all right, boss.”
Craig turned to face him. “You say that like you know something.”
Liam shook his head. “I don’t actually, but Danni and Nicky do and they’ve told me she’ll be fine so I guess we’ll just have to trust.”
Suddenly everything fell into place. Annette’s months of illness and sudden improvement; her confiding only in the women in the group and Mike looking so incongruously pleased. Annette was pregnant! Her less than cheerful mood might be down to the baby being unplanned and the idea of having to tell her teenagers; he knew that wouldn’t be an easy chat.
Craig resolved to keep it to himself until she said something publicly and tuned back into Liam’s words. Thankfully he hadn’t noticed his inattention; the last thing Annette needed was Liam tannoying her pregnancy across the bar.
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