by Mari Hannah
She hadn’t.
The officer she was facing now was of the same ilk. The more she resisted the temptation to argue, the more irate he became. Kate was too experienced to fall for that one. She’d crossed swords and held her own against better men.
Waverley’s face was crimson.
The only way to deal with guys like him was to excel in the job, impress the hell out of them and then let them take the credit. It worked every time. The Gold Commander nodded towards the door, dismissing her. Kate turned the handle and stepped outside, Hank on her heels like a shadow she couldn’t shake off, a volley of expletives spilling from his mouth as soon as they were out of earshot.
30
Kate wrestled an iron and ironing board from the hotel service cupboard near the elevator. If she was on temporary secondment to US Homeland Security she intended to go in smart with all guns blazing. The cliché perhaps wasn’t the right choice, given her aversion to the Second Amendment to the United States Constitution: the right to bear arms. Every year, there were thousands of homicides, suicides and accidental deaths from gunshot wounds in America, a tragic waste of life. She was proud that UK police hadn’t followed suit and never would.
While she pressed her shirt, a radio presenter gave the seven o’clock news headlines. The aircraft disaster was followed by a report that assaults on teachers were on the rise; medical staff were being sent to Cuba to help combat Ebola; older people were being advised to heat only one room in order to get through the winter; prison officers were facing the sack for blowing the whistle on the state of British jails and for highlighting soaring levels of violence.
Depressing.
She shut down the app.
Dressed in navy strides, a white shirt and smart jacket, she clipped her hair up, put on some make-up and checked her appearance in the mirror. Add a pair of dark sunnies and you’ll be channelling an agent of the FBI. Those were Jo’s words last time Kate had worn a dark suit to an inter-agency meeting. She swallowed her grief. This was for her. Whether or not she was still breathing, it was all for her.
Pleasantly surprised was an understatement when it came to Kate’s reaction to her new office. Recently decorated, the smell of fresh paint lingered. It wasn’t the hovel Waverley might have chosen. Quite the opposite: it was altogether nicer than the cloying atmosphere of the Casualty Bureau’s incident room. She was nothing short of amazed at the size of her temporary home. Bigger than the broom cupboard she was expecting and well equipped: two desks, comfortable chairs, computer monitors, landline, printer and shredder for confidential waste. A window on the outside world was a bonus. A small posy of flowers sat incongruously on the sill.
Seriously?
Kate pressed her lips together, stemming a giggle. Hank hadn’t yet noticed it. He would. And when he did, it wouldn’t take him long to work out who’d placed it there – a certain Met DS who’d now be feeling a little silly and a lot miffed after his spat with her yesterday.
Served him right for being such a dick.
For the next couple of hours, Hank organised the space to their satisfaction. Kate was a woman who liked order, the type that would shelve novels alphabetically and by publication date. A bit of a saddo, really; she simply couldn’t cope with mess.
While Hank was busy, she emailed Rob Clark requesting the identity of her contact in the US, thanking him for his help. The reply made interesting reading. Homeland Security Special Agent in Charge (SAC) Gabriele Torres was an army veteran and experienced law enforcement officer. Her job was complex, involving three elements: the detection of, prevention of and response to terrorist attack. She specialised in aviation. According to Rob, she was no slouch. He signed off by confirming that Hank was part of the deal.
‘Thanks, Rob,’ Kate whispered under her breath.
Hank turned to look at her. ‘Rob?’
‘My mate Rob Clark, good friend and saviour rolled into one.’ She explained that he was the contact she’d gone to meet in Windsor and what he did for a living. ‘He came up trumps. You’re in.’
‘In?’
‘In … With me! I made it clear that we work as a pair or not at all.’
‘Without consulting me?’
‘Yeah, right. If I’d left you out, your pet lip would’ve been like another airport runway. You should be thanking me. You now have bona fide reason to be here, unrestricted access to all areas of Heathrow – confirmed by the Civil Aviation Authority and the Federal Aviation Administration. We now have a big fat US stamp of approval.’
‘Would it have made a difference if they’d knocked me back?’
‘It was a deal-breaker.’ She made an innocent face. ‘Not a whole lot, no.’
‘That’s what I thought.’
Hank resumed what he was doing, knowing that she’d have used him with or without authority. In spite of his casual reaction, he’d be quietly satisfied with the state of play. Leaving aside their close connection with someone on board that plane, it was an honour and privilege to be working on an enquiry of this scale on behalf of a United States security agency. He got up and left the room, telling her he’d grab them something to eat. All of a sudden he was starving.
A good sign.
Left alone, Kate reread the email still open on her computer monitor. At the bottom of his communication, Rob Clark had attached details of how SAC Torres could be contacted. Kate sent a heartfelt thank you in return, followed by an introductory message to Torres, then sat back, placing both hands flat on her desk. She surveyed the room, head swimming with conflicting emotions – sorrow, nervousness, blind panic – but also a sense of euphoria, commitment and determination. The tension drained away, replaced by the adrenalin rush of a new investigation. It was time for some legitimate detective work.
31
The briefing arrived from SAC Torres within an hour of Kate’s initial contact. It wasn’t yet official but there was a strong suspicion that an improvised explosive device had brought down 0113. There were many attachments to Torres’s email. The gist of her report spoke to the theory currently being explored, that a suspect bag had been introduced onto the plane. It was important to concentrate on where it came from, find those responsible and shut them down.
Having offered herself up for a specific role – investigating possible sabotage by ground staff – Kate would have to deliver. In order to do that, she first had to pin down a process she knew little about. The question was: where to start when no group had claimed responsibility?
Forcing herself to concentrate, Kate slid her warrant card into the slot in her computer, logged on and brought up the access code for Heathrow Airport administration that Torres had passed on. The special agent was shit-hot when it came to laying her hands on information, even from three thousand miles away.
Kate was impressed.
Knowing she had a pro to work with, along with Hank as her wingman, made a huge difference. It didn’t take long before the two Northumbria detectives were in the zone, hard at work, researching areas of particular interest vis-à-vis the point at which a bomb might have been introduced to the flight. Tapping out the word BAGGAGE, Kate pressed the return key and waited for the page to load.
A long list popped up in alphabetical order, mostly self-explanatory.
Clicking on the item she understood the least – interlining – she quickly established that it meant the transfer of freight from one carrier to another, the belongings of passengers who’d arrived at Heathrow from feeder flights, as Jo had done.
This was exactly what she was after.
Closing down the page, Kate consulted the digital blueprint of Terminal 5 also contained in Torres’s communication. A giant floor plan filled the screen. There were other pages, too, showing the flow of baggage around the airport. Finally, she was in business.
Kate had no idea how long she and Hank had been working. During their research, Fiona had sent a text Kate didn’t return, then her father called. She was initially pleased that he felt up to mak
ing an approach, but the feeling didn’t last. He was in no better mood than he’d been for several years prior to his operation.
While she took the call, Hank stopped what he was doing and put his feet up on his desk, affording her the opportunity to chat, a call he knew was unsolicited, an untimely intrusion she could well do without. For Hank, it was a welcome break from a discussion she was keen to finish; for her, it represented nothing more than earache. The man who’d cheated death had nothing nice to say to her.
Ending the call abruptly, she sat back in her chair, hands clasped on top of her head, her attention straying out of the window at an alien landscape that made her feel homesick for the dark skies, lush green landscape and wide open spaces of Northumberland where she’d grown up.
Hank’s eyes were back on his computer screen.
‘Take five,’ she said. ‘I feel like a brew.’
He made her one, then paid attention.
‘Of seventy thousand workers employed at Heathrow, what percentage do you reckon are on the take?’ she asked.
A shrug. ‘The law of averages would suggest a fair few.’
‘We need to get a handle on the small scams within the terminal. Once we find the minnows, we’ll have leverage with the sharks, those whose misdeeds impact on airport security.’
‘Does the Met’s Aviation Policing Command know what you’re planning?’
‘No, and I want it to stay that way. We’re assisting the Casualty Bureau. That’s all they need to know. Outside of Waverley and Bright, Blue is the only one with knowledge of our role change.’
‘You think you can trust him?’
‘Blue? Not as far as I can throw him. He’s been warned of the consequences should it go any further. Anyway, forget him. He was a means to an end. We no longer need him or Waverley. We have clearance from a higher authority now.’
A few minutes later, her mobile rang.
Thinking it was her father again, Kate leaned forward, peering at the screen without picking it up, then at Hank. ‘Talking of a higher authority. It’s the General.’ It was Hank’s nickname for Bright when he was in a radge. ‘Sorry, this time I can’t ignore him,’ she said. ‘I have some grovelling to do.’ She pressed to take the call. ‘Guv, I’ve been meaning to contact you.’
‘So why didn’t you?’
‘Hank and I have been trying to get a handle on stuff this end. I wanted to thank you for allowing us to assist Homeland Security—’
‘Allow?’ He spat the word out.
Kate rolled her eyes at Hank. He’d heard every word, but she put the phone on speaker so he could listen in. This concerned him too. ‘Phil, I’m sorry. It won’t happen again. I’m on leave, technically, but please accept my profound apology for acting without talking to you first—’
‘Your default position, isn’t it?’
‘I might’ve pulled a fast one occasionally.’
‘Don’t push it!’ His voice was louder than before.
Kate eyed Hank across her desk. He grimaced. Bright never held back if he had something to say. Worryingly, he sounded more wound up now than he had when he first found out where they were and what they were up to. There was more to this call. They braced themselves for a roasting. It didn’t take long to arrive.
‘Kate, I haven’t got all day. You’re not going to like this, but I’m withdrawing my authorisation, or should I say half of it. Homeland Security will have to do without one of you.’
‘Guv, you can’t.’
‘There’s been a development.’
He meant a murder. ‘Guv, can’t Robbo deal?’
‘Given your walkabout, that’s exactly what he’s doing, temporarily—’
‘So, what’s the problem?’ Kate cut him off. ‘You’re happy, he’s happy. Win-win.’
‘You think this is a joke, Kate? Think again. This afternoon, a guy was taken to A&E by two heavies with a serious gunshot wound to his head. He was practically DOA and died soon after. Police were called, but by the time they got there, the guys who took him in had disappeared.’
‘Any ID?’
‘Not yet.’
‘Then what’s the problem? This is bread and butter to Robbo.’
‘No, I want one of you here. You have a decision to make. Drop your insane crusade or book Hank on the next plane. If you’re staying put, you had better make me proud, Kate. Waverley is making his mouth go. I’ve spent the majority of my day deflecting questions about your conduct when, frankly, I have more important things to do with my time. I’ve covered for you – you left me no choice – but I don’t like the feeling of my arm up my back when I make operational decisions. Put another foot wrong and you’ll part company with that warrant card you prize so highly. You can also kiss goodbye to your pension, and so can Hank.’
The line went dead.
32
‘Shit!’ Kate locked eyes with Hank. ‘This death is causing Bright a great deal of anxiety. Put it this way, it doesn’t sound like a suicide. This changes everything.’
‘You reckon?’
Kate didn’t answer.
She’d pulled some strokes in her time but none compared to this. She was more worried now than at any point in her entire career, for Hank as well as herself. Bright may be their mentor, one they had a close and open relationship with, but he’d made it clear that they had gone too far.
‘You heard him, he’ll can us if we step out of line again.’
Kate could handle that. She had savings, a house that was paid for, no ties. She’d survive a lengthy period of unemployment and was well qualified to find another job; doing what, she didn’t know. With her security clearance she could probably swing a consultancy for a high-end legal team. Hank had a family, a wife and kid to provide for. What would he do? The police force was his life – as it had been hers for so many years – it would kill him to have it taken away. He’d end up working as a civilian investigator or MIR indexer assisting serving officers in another force, a downward shift he’d find impossible to take.
As she raised her head, their eyes met.
Hank knew his future was hanging on a thread and was trying not to show it.
‘I’m sorry I got you into this,’ she said.
‘Did you hear me complain? Where you go, I follow.’
‘The guv’nor means it, Hank.’
‘Relaaax.’ He waved away her concern. ‘He’s blowing off steam. You know what he’s like—’
‘No, he’s had as much as he can take. I don’t have enough fingers and toes to count the rules I’ve broken. Taking you down with me isn’t fair. Hank, I can’t go back. What happened to Jo, finding her, is more important than anything. If she’s dead, I don’t even want the damn job. How could I carry on, knowing that it’s driven a wedge between us? Every time I step into the incident room, her ghost will be there, a reminder of what I’ve lost. It’ll never go away. It’ll stay with me for the rest of my days, a dark shadow I’ll never shake off. You understand, don’t you?’
Kate could see that he did.
She got up and put some space between them, her focus on anything but him. When she turned around, he was staring at her with an expression that left her in no doubt that he knew what was coming.
‘I’m sending you home.’
‘The guv’nor’s right. You are insane.’
‘Hank. I won’t be responsible—’
‘For what? You think I’d want to stay in the fucking job if you go? It wouldn’t be the same. We’re a team, which means we stick together. That’s what we do. Bright knows that. Hasn’t he drummed it into us time and again to look out for one another? I’m sorry, but he can’t have it both ways.’
‘Oh, he can—’
‘But he won’t. He’ll get over it, like he always has.’
‘And if he doesn’t?’
‘Then we’ll have to’ – he made inverted commas with his forefingers – ‘make him proud,’ he said, a stupid grin on his face.
It was all an act.
Kate didn’t even raise a smile. ‘I’ve made my decision. You’re missing out being down here. It’s time to sling your hook.’
‘Well, be prepared to drag my sorry arse to the airport because I’m going nowhere.’ He glared at her. ‘You can’t pull me in, then push me out when it suits. I’m not Jo!’
Kate recoiled. ‘Fuck off!’
Hank palmed his brow. Shamefaced, he stood up and took a step forward. Kate stepped away, retreating like a wounded animal to lick her wounds. The world was going on as normal on the other side of the windowpane. Inside, hers was falling apart.
Hank spoke to her back. ‘Kate, I’m sorry. I was angry, I shouldn’t have said that.’
‘Why not? It’s true …’ Slowly, she turned to face him. ‘Of all the things you might have said to persuade me to change my mind, you’ve finally had the guts to give it to me straight. Well, job done. Message received and understood. Now piss off before I lose my temper.’
‘Kate, be reasonable.’
‘Go on, get out!’
He stood his ground. ‘You think you’re the only one who needs answers? In case it passed you by, Jo is my mate too. And even if she wasn’t, there are hundreds, possibly thousands of people out there affected by this tragedy. Their loss is as important as ours, the case more serious than a stiff in the morgue back home. Like it or not, you’re stuck with me.’
‘What makes you think I want you?’
‘I know you do.’ He dipped his head on one side, a sorry face. ‘You do, don’t you?’
She almost cried. ‘Of course, you idiot. Why else would I be trying to protect you?’
Not for the first time, her 2ic gave her a brotherly hug. ‘I’m an idiot. Forgive me? I can’t, won’t let you cope with this alone.’
‘If you stay, it could cost you.’
‘I’m prepared to take that risk.’
33
Alone in her office, Kate stared out of the window at nothing in particular with Hank’s words and Bright’s angry warning ringing in her ears, grateful that she could still call herself an SIO – or even a police officer. Her guv’nor’s validation meant a lot. Hank’s unconditional support meant more. She’d be lost without these two men in her life.
