Fallen Heroes

by Amy Cross

  “Now do you believe me?” Laura asked, turning to Nick.

  “I always believed you when you said it was the same killer,” he replied. “I just don't see how it could have been Daniel Gregory. Like I said -”

  “He's had a long time to set this up,” Laura continued. “Two years, maybe more.”

  “Come off it, the -”

  “Don't you see?” she asked. “The whole thing is going exactly the way he wanted! The trial, the acquittal... Maybe that was part of his plan too! Maybe he's plotted the whole thing out and we're blindly stumbling into a trap!”

  “Now you're sounding proper paranoid,” he told her. “Doc, help me out here.”

  “It does seem unlikely that Daniel Gregory is behind all of this,” Maitland replied. “Laura, you need to at least keep all the possibilities open for now. Don't write Gregory off, but don't focus on him exclusively. Keep all your cards on the table.”

  “It's him,” she said firmly, keeping her eyes fixed on Sarah Jenkins' body. “I know you think I'm crazy, but -”

  “He was in Belgium!” Nick pointed out.

  “He can't have been! He was in this girl's flat last night!”

  “You're going mental,” Nick told her. “You know that, right? You're finally letting this case get to you. Everyone said that'd happen a couple of years ago, but instead it's been simmering along and now it's gonna blow up. Come on, Laura, you need to accept that you were wrong about this guy!”

  “I wasn't wrong.”

  “You're never gonna admit it, are you? You're just incapable of accepting that you were wrong with that case!”

  “I was wrong with how I went about it,” she replied. “I was cocky, but the basic premise, the idea that Daniel Gregory was guilty... I was right about that.”

  “But if you -”

  “Give us a moment,” Maitland said to Nick suddenly, interrupting him. “Please. There's something I want to discuss with Laura.”

  “I'm part of this case too,” Nick pointed out.

  “I know,” Maitland continued, “but this isn't directly about the case.”

  “I suppose I could go and see what the forensics guys are up to,” he replied, heading to the door. “Don't worry, I'm not offended. It's not like there's any reason you should discuss important things in front of me. I'm just the dogsbody, aren't I?” As he left the room, he was still muttering to himself.

  “You think I'm losing perspective,” Laura said after a moment. “I know that's how it seems, but -”

  “I think you're right about Daniel Gregory.”

  She paused. “You do?”

  “Absolutely. I can't explain it, that's your job, but my gut instinct tells me you're on the money with this one and you have been since the start, that Daniel Gregory killed Natasha Simonsen and that, ipso facto, he also killed the young woman in front of us. I've read the original files, I know the case against Gregory didn't collapse because he was innocent. It collapsed because you were too confident, because you believed in your own ability to force things through and you didn't expect his defense team to be so good. You thought the world would believe you, just because you knew you were right.”

  “I'm not cocky now,” she replied.

  “Are you sure? The Gregory case knocked the stuffing out of you, but are you sure you're not leaning that way again?”

  “This time I know how to handle it. I'm forcing myself to be more cautious.”

  “I know. I can see that.” Grabbing the sheet, he pulled it back across the dead body. “You can be right, Laura, and still get things wrong. You wouldn't be the first police officer I've known who went crazy trying to prove something that they knew to be true, but that just managed to slip through the cracks. If you go down that path, you could end up losing your mind and losing your job and losing your sense of yourself, and letting this killer walk away.”

  “He's guilty,” she said firmly, “and therefore -”

  “And therefore it's impossible for him to get away with it? And therefore it'll be enough for you to stand up in court and accuse him, and the jury will just go along with you?” He smiled. “You thought that once before, didn't you?”

  “I'm older now.”

  “By about eighteen months.”

  “People can change a lot in eighteen months.”

  “Yes, they can, but they can also slip back into their old mistakes. There's a rumor going around the station, Laura, that you got into a little trouble earlier today.”

  “A rumor?” Sighing, she realized that everyone would probably know about the incident at the convenience store by now. “You shouldn't listen to rumors.”

  “I don't want to believe that it could be true.”

  “Then don't.”

  “Is it?”

  She paused, feeling distinctly uncomfortable. There was a part of her that thought she could just lie, that she could convince him the rumor wasn't true, and she figured she had a chance of doing just that. At the same time, she felt too drained, as if the effort would be too much.

  “I've always wondered how you got your release,” he continued. “Everyone has something. Most of us drink, but obviously you get your kicks in another way. I hope you realize that you came damn close to losing everything.”

  “I don't need a lecture.”

  “You deserve one.”

  “Are we done here?” she asked, trying but failing to hide her irritation. “I actually have things to do.”

  “I think you should consider giving up this case, Laura. You're too close. Let Nick Jordan and someone else handle it, and just chip in now and again from the wings. You can still be involved, but I think whoever killed Sarah Jenkins did it specifically to draw you back in. Don't give them what they want.”

  “You think this is revenge?”

  “Against the police force, yes. And for better or for worse, you happen to be the one in the front-line. Whatever Daniel Gregory wants, he's going to go through you to get it. Don't let him do that.”

  “I can't walk away.”

  “You have to.”

  “Or what?”

  “Or there'll be other murders. I don't want to sound overly dramatic, but the killer is playing with you. I know that sounds like the plot of a bad movie, but killers watch bad movies too, and sometimes they get ideas. Crazy ideas, ridiculous ideas, but if they're smart enough and determined enough...” He paused, waiting for her to say something. “The bottom line is that I think you're one of the best detectives I've ever met, but I also think that for this particular case, almost anyone else at this station would have a better chance of bringing Daniel Gregory to justice. The only reason for you to stay involved would be personal pride, and I don't think you're the kind of person who'd let more victims die because she wants to prove a point.”

  “I can't walk away,” she said again.

  “You can and you will. Gregory wants to turn this into a game. Don't let him.”

  “What do you think he's planning?” she asked.

  “I don't know, and that's what scares me.”

  She paused for a moment, looking down at the white sheet and imagining the dead body underneath. She almost expected it to sit up suddenly and start accusing her of more mistakes.

  “I'll think about what you've said,” she told him finally, “and I'll give serious thought to stepping back. Unless or until I make that decision, however, I'm still on this case, so I need you to run a tox screen on Sarah Jenkins' blood. I want to build up as complete a picture as possible regarding her final twenty-four hours. What she ate, what she drank, everything. I need to know where she was, what she was doing, who she was doing it with.”

  “Already on it,” he replied.

  “And send the results to my desk,” she added, heading to the door. “I don't have time to come down here every time you want to fill me in. Whatever you want to say, say it in the report.”

  As Laura left the room, Maitland sighed and looked back down at the body on the examination tab
le. After a moment, heading to one of the workbenches and picking up his phone, he tapped the screen and waited for his superior to pick up.

  “It's me,” he said as soon as he heard a voice on the other end. “I hate to do this, but I need to file an official report about one of our detectives. It's for her own good.”

  Chapter Five

  After stuffing the cash into her coat pocket, Ophelia slipped the rusty metal tin back into its slot and then rearranged the bricks. Within just a few seconds, there was no hint of a hiding place, and she carefully put the bush back into place before getting to her feet.

  Job done.

  “And where the hell have you been?”

  “Jesus!” Turning, she saw to her shock that Josephine was lumbering closer, pulling a shopping cart filled with bags. The sight was almost comical, and having not seen Josephine for a few months, she was shocked to realize that the old woman seemed to have somehow accumulated even more garbage in her cart, which she insisted on pulling around wherever she went. “Do you always sneak up on people like that?”

  “I wasn't sneaking up on anyone,” Josephine replied, looking past her as if she knew something was hidden behind the bush. “You haven't been around for a long time, girl. Some of us were starting to think that maybe you'd gone for a float in the river. Face down.”

  “I've been busy.”

  At this, Josephine laughed. “You? Busy? Doing what, making more scrawled notes in one of your books?”

  “It'd take too long to explain.” She peered at the cart, which was overflowing with junk. “Looks like you've been busy too.”

  “Or maybe you've been spending more time with the police?” Josephine suggested. “Last time I saw you, you'd got yourself a pretty cozy little thing going on, hadn't you? Staying in her house, eating her food, probably letting her buy you some clothes... It's pretty obvious what you were getting out of the relationship, but what about her? What were you giving her in return?”

  “It's nothing like that,” Ophelia replied, bristling a little at the idea that she had to explain herself at all. “I'm just -” Spotting movement nearby, she looked over at a nearby garage just in time to see a familiar face ducking out of view. “Dave!” she shouted. “I know you're there!”

  “Leave him alone,” Josephine snapped.

  “Can you just tell him to come out from behind there?”

  “He's shy.”

  “He knows me.”

  “I thought I knew you, Ophelia, but now I'm not so sure.”

  “Oh, what does that even mean?”

  “Dave's a good boy,” Josephine continued, “and he told me some very interesting things a while back. About you and some hospital? He said you got him to sit around taking photos of people going in and out.”

  “Did he also mention that I told him to keep his mouth shut?” Ophelia asked with a sigh. Spotting movement again, she saw that Dave was peering around the other side of the garage. “Is he trying to not be seen?” she asked.

  “Don't you worry about what that boy's doing,” Josephine continued, before pulling her cart a little closer. “There's no good that comes of associating with pigs, Ophelia. Of all the people who'd forget that rule, I can't believe it's you. I mean, I always knew you were too smart for your own good, but you've really over-thought your way into a mess this time. What about all that mess with the Middleton girl, the one who killed those people? Do you think you're some kind of amateur detective now?”

  Ophelia sighed.

  “Do you think you're better than everyone else? Do you think you're smarter? Come on, out with it. What's going on with you and that pig?”

  “She's not a pig.”

  “All police are pigs! If you're rolling around in the mud with them, that makes you a pig too! What are you up to, Ophelia? Why are you still running around with her?”

  “I just -” Pausing suddenly, Ophelia realized that Josephine's questions seemed a little more pointed than usual. “Where's all this coming from?” she asked. “For someone who spends most of her time wheezing and coughing, and picking crap out of bins, you seem very well-informed.”

  “Don't go getting into me!” Josephine replied, waving a dismissive hand. “This isn't about me, girl, it's about you and what you're up to!”

  “Has someone been asking about me?”

  “None of your business.”

  “I think that's by definition my business,” she said firmly. “Who is it?”

  “You just can't admit it, can you?” Josephine continued. “You're hanging out with pigs, and now you think you're one step up from the rest of us. I bet you spend evenings sitting around drinking wine and listening to music, with a big stuffed belly, and you don't ever think about the likes of me who are still out here on the street, come rain or shine -”

  “I haven't forgotten about anyone,” Ophelia replied, “it's just...” Pausing, she realized that there was an element of truth in Josephine's accusations. Life on the street seemed more like a memory than a reality, and since she'd moved in with Laura she hadn't had to worry about where her next meal was coming from, or whether the next frost might be a killer. “Things change,” she added finally. “I can't help that. It's not my fault if...”

  “If what?” Josephine asked. “If you made it off the streets and the rest of us are still stuck here?”

  “I have to go,” Ophelia muttered, stepping past her. “Your cart stinks, by the way.”

  “Of course it does! There's a cat in it!”

  Ophelia turned and stared at her. “What is -”

  “None of your business!” Josephine shouted after her. “Where are you going? Back to your nice warm bed?”

  “I'll be back,” she replied. “I swear, I'll come back and help you all!”

  Hurrying around the corner, Ophelia stopped as soon as she was out of sight and leaned back against the fence. Putting two fingers on the side of her neck, she realized her pulse was racing, as if seeing Josephine again after so long had stirred a little panic in her soul. Forcing herself to stay calm, she leaned back around the corner and saw that Dave had come out from his so-called hiding place, and he and Josephine were now making their way across the wasteland, chatting animatedly about something as Dave helped push the cart. Feeling a hint of suspicion in her belly, Ophelia realized that she'd rarely seen Josephine and Dave together, so the fact that they suddenly seemed so pally seemed to be something of a coincidence.

  “What are you up to?” she whispered, watching as they disappeared into a nearby alley.

  After checking that there was no-one around, Ophelia hurried across the stretch of open ground until she reached the alley. Spotting Josephine and Dave disappearing around the next corner, she realized that they seemed to be heading somewhere specific, which was surprising since they were both the kind of people who usually just drifted along alone. Making sure not to attract any attention, she began to follow them, always keeping far enough back that they wouldn't see or hear her. As they headed down toward the edge of the river, it became increasingly clear that something strange was keeping them together.

  Finally, reaching the area under one of the train bridges, Ophelia ducked down behind a bin and watched as Josephine and Dave stopped by one of the walls, as if they were waiting for someone. She recognized the area as a place where a lot of homeless people tended to congregate, and she herself had spent a lot of time sitting around, warming her hands over makeshift fires. Those days seemed so far off now, even thought it had been barely a year since she'd first met Laura and began to turn her life around.

  Lost in thought, she didn't notice at first as a figure made its way along the nearby path and headed over to where Josephine and Dave were waiting. Finally spotting the figure as it reached Josephine and handed her an envelope, Ophelia squinted slightly, trying to work out what, exactly, she was seeing. Josephine was talking to the man while Dave hung back, and from his body language the man didn't seem particularly impressed about what he was hearing.

&
nbsp; “Who are you?” Ophelia whispered as the man turned and began to walk away. “What -”

  Suddenly recognizing the man's face, she ducked down out of sight as he made his way back along the path. Her heart was racing as she realized that Joe Lewis, the reporter who'd dogged her during the Lofthouse days, was back on the scene, and this time he seemed to be trying to pay people for information. Once Lewis was out of the way, she leaned around the side of the bin again and saw that Josephine and Dave were fighting over the envelope of money.

  Turning, she got to her feet and hurried after Lewis, making sure to keep out of sight. Just as she reached the nearby car park, however, she heard an engine start up, and she arrived just in time to see a blue car disappearing into the distance.

  Hurrying back down toward the embankment, she saw Josephine pulling her cart away, while Dave was sitting on the grass, apparently counting his money.

  “What the hell did that guy want?” Ophelia shouted, making her way over to him once she was sure Josephine was gone.

  “What guy?” he asked, clearly panicking as he got to his feet and stepped back. He tried to stuff the money into his pocket, but in the process he dropped half of it and had to bend down to scoop it up. “I don't know what you're -”

  “He's a reporter,” she continued, pushing him down onto the grass. “What the hell are you and Josephine doing taking money from a reporter?”

  “Please, just -”

  “Tell me!”

  “At least he's not a pig!”

  “Tell me!” she shouted. “I swear to God, I will hurt you if you don't!”

  Pausing, with tears in his eyes, Dave seemed shocked for a moment. “He just said he'd pay us if we could help him out, that's all. He said he's writing an article and he wanted to do some background research.” As he tried to get back up, Ophelia pushed him down again. “Ophelia, please, it's completely harmless! He promised you wouldn't mind!”

  “He did, did he?”