Without a Trace

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Without a Trace Page 28

by Mari Hannah


  Kate’s laughter almost turned to tears. ‘How did you—’

  ‘I was in the incident room when word came in that you were on your way home. Bright charged in, briefed the team, cancelling all leave at short notice. No excuses—’

  ‘Yeah, but he didn’t mean yours.’

  ‘I volunteered to assist.’

  ‘For me?’

  ‘You might have had something to do with it. I won’t lie. It wasn’t the only reason. Remember that paper I wrote on desensitisation to violence among those embroiled in gang culture? Bright actually read it. Hard to believe, I know … I gather he was quite impressed by it.’

  ‘He should be,’ Kate said. ‘You’re very impressive.’

  Jo caught the compliment but made a crazy face. She hadn’t always got along with Bright. Before his promotion to his current post as head of Northumbria CID, he was the Detective Superintendent in charge of the Murder Investigation Team, Kate’s immediate boss. He’d been too quick to charge Jo with her late husband’s murder, something he’d later come to regret. And now he thought she might assist in the investigation into Nikolaev’s assassination.

  Jo struck a casual pose, feet crossed at the ankles, the wine glass in her hand. But she seemed nervous around Kate, awkward now that they were finally alone.

  ‘How did you get in?’ Kate asked.

  Jo threw her a smile. ‘Lisa seemed to remember you asking Hank to collect some case papers you’d taken home to study and needed urgently. She said you’d told him to hang onto the spare key in case the same thing happened again. I rang Julie on the off-chance she might know where he kept it.’

  ‘Ah, no wonder she was so keen to drop me here.’ Kate smiled. ‘She didn’t, I took a taxi, but it was nice of her to offer. It seems that we have more than one Cupid in our lives, both with the surname Gormley.’

  ‘You’re OK with me being here? I mean, if—’

  ‘Jo, I never want you to leave my sight again.’

  They stood for a while, eyes meeting across the room. Having made the first move, Kate didn’t know what to say or do next. She decided to play it by ear – she’d already taken too much for granted – but the urge to hold her was strong. She took a few steps forward and had just put her arms round Jo when her mobile rang, killing the moment.

  ‘Sorry.’ She stepped away, slipping the device from her pocket, briefly checking the screen. Declining the call, she put it away, another apology on the tip of her tongue she didn’t get out quick enough.

  ‘Anyone interesting?’ Jo turned away, stirring the pot again.

  With her eyes on Jo’s back, Kate panicked, wondering if she thought the call had come from Fiona at the most inopportune moment, when they had so much to say to one another. She hadn’t heard from Fiona since she’d left word that Jo was safe, over a week ago. Was she overthinking this, seeing something that wasn’t there? No, she didn’t think so. It was the look in Jo’s eye before she turned away that sealed the need for an explanation …

  ‘It was Lisa,’ she said. ‘I’ll call her later.’

  Jo swung round. ‘Call her now.’

  ‘I don’t want to. Really, it can wait.’

  ‘Kate, it’s fine.’

  There was an urgency in Jo’s voice that baffled Kate.

  Jo picked up a remote control, turning off the music, her expression darkening. ‘Kate, you have to call Lisa. She knows I’m here waiting for you. Believe me, she’d rather die than interrupt us tonight.’

  Kate made the call, lifting the phone to her ear.

  Carmichael answered immediately. ‘Guv, you need to come now.’

  73

  Jo drove Kate to Northern Area Command, known as Middle Earth to those who worked there, though today no one was laughing or using the nickname. The whole of Middle Engine Lane was taped off, a deposition site rather than a crime scene. As Kate approached, broken and stunned by the development, detectives and uniformed personnel standing immediately outside the police cordon parted to let her through. Their heads were bowed, grave expressions on their faces. Hank was already there, Carmichael too.

  No words were spoken.

  Acting Detective Inspector Paul Robson’s body was lying face up in front of the main entrance, one arm extended. He’d been thrown from a fast-moving vehicle like a sack of garbage, shot several times at point-blank range, once through the head, taking four in the chest. Swallowing hard, Kate looked away, Brian’s words entering her head: You want blood? Because if I dig too deep, that’s exactly what you’ll get – only it’ll be mine you’ll be covered in, along with your own and whoever else gets in the way.

  Hank had his arm round Carmichael. She was visibly distressed, nodding a response to something he’d said, words of comfort from her supervision. In time, Hank would speak to each and every member of the team. No matter the circumstances, the MIT couldn’t afford to crumble. He turned, walking towards Kate, a forlorn figure, as sad as he was incensed by yet another tragedy, this one too close to home.

  Kate stared at her fallen colleague, lying in the middle of the road, covered in blood, hardly recognisable. Like a jumbled montage, memories of their time together scrolled through her head: the day she and Robbo had met, cases they had solved together, the difficult conversations over his gambling addiction, but mostly the laughs and camaraderie in and out of the office. The day his son was born, Kate remembered him running like a loon from the incident room having received the call that his wife had gone into labour. The joy of becoming a father to Callum, now five years old. Celebrations to wet the baby’s head had been curtailed due to pressure of work, but Robbo had returned to lend a hand before his paternity leave was over. He’d invited Kate to be the child’s godparent. Having lost her faith when her mother passed away, she’d declined.

  Today, she was regretting that decision.

  ‘He never stood a chance.’ Bright’s eyes burned with hatred as he turned to face Kate. ‘This is a warning to stay away. Robbo had been asking around, hoping to find someone willing to talk about Nikolaev. Lisa said he looked upbeat when he left the incident room, heading off to meet an informant. Whoever he or she is, I want them found.’

  ‘Yes, guv. We’ll need to spend some money.’

  ‘Do it. The budget is my problem.’

  ‘Has anyone informed his family?’

  ‘Not yet.’ Bright checked his watch. ‘I need to get over there.’

  ‘No, guv. I’ll take care of it.’ Delivering the death message was a task every police officer dreaded, doubly so if it involved one of their own, but Kate was Robbo’s SIO. It was her duty to speak to his widow. ‘Guv, I’m sorry, I should’ve been here.’ She broke off, leaving the rest of the sentence unsaid.

  ‘This is not your fault,’ Hank said, as he arrived at her shoulder. ‘If I’d returned to base when the guv’nor asked me to—’

  ‘Well, you didn’t!’ There was a hard edge to Bright’s voice. ‘So, don’t start whingeing about it now. Man up or get the hell out of my face. That goes for you too, Kate. There’s no time for recriminations, what ifs or maybes. You didn’t follow orders and I didn’t make you. We’re all at fault here. I need your minds on the job, not halfway down the fucking motorway.’

  ‘They will be, guv.’

  ‘They had better be.’

  Kate’s eyes found Jo’s. She was in the car, waiting. Kate refocused on her guv’nor. ‘If Jo is willing, I’ll take her with me. You know what Irene’s like. There’s zero chance of her accepting a Family Liaison Officer and her parents are in the South-West. It’ll take them a while to get here, Robbo’s parents not so long. Jo and Irene get on. She doesn’t need a stranger in the house.’

  A nod. ‘Don’t use Jo’s vehicle. Keep it out of sight, away from the main road. That goes for everyone else, too.’

  Bright glanced at the detectives standing around with their hands in their pockets, many of whom were state zero when they heard. Some had been summoned by the control room, others had arrived of t
heir own volition, making themselves available for work. Like him, they were anticipating a long night.

  ‘You want me to wait for the pathologist?’ Hank asked.

  ‘No, seal the street.’ Bright looked up at the windows of Northern Area Command HQ where staff with horrified faces stared down from practically every window. ‘Put the word out. If any fucker in this building shares an image of Robbo on social media, they will be sacked. Then I want you in the incident room to get the ball rolling.’ He thumbed at the crowd. ‘There’s no better time to remind them why we do what we do. Kate, I’d like you back in an hour, sooner if you can manage it. Don’t let me down.’

  74

  The street was quiet, not a soul about. Jo knew the drill, aware that when the spouse or parents of a serving police officer opens the door at a quarter to midnight, sees a traffic car parked outside and a DCI standing on the step, they tend to know. Irene Robson was no different. It was a scenario that most loved ones had imagined many times, praying that it would never happen, including Jo herself when Kate was late arriving home.

  The light went out in Irene’s eyes.

  Without asking why Kate and Jo were there, she turned away, padding across wooden flooring in bare feet, leaving the door wide open. Kate entered the house first, Jo following her in. They had hardly spoken in the car. Jo would take no part in conveying the bad news. Her role was to be on hand to look after Irene for as long as required afterwards. Only then would she have time to pick Kate off the floor.

  As they passed along the hallway, Kate glanced at Jo: I can’t do this.

  Jo sent a non-verbal reply: Yes, you can.

  Could she, though? Kate wasn’t sure for how much longer.

  The last time they were in the house had been a social occasion – laughter, presents, balloons and alcohol, the whole squad invited to celebrate Robbo’s thirtieth, a big party that spilled out into the rear yard where lanterns burned all night and Carmichael kept the music going with the help of her bestie, DC Andy Brown.

  The atmosphere was very different tonight.

  Irene was sitting on the edge of the settee when they entered the living room, her face turned towards the door, a ghostly white. Wearing striped pyjamas, her hair tangled and sweaty, she looked like a kid who’d woken from a nightmare, shivery and cold, except that for her the horror was real.

  Jo had never been present in a situation like this, but there’d been too many occasions when Kate had returned home in the early hours, wrung out after delivering ‘the knock’, breaking the news that a family member had died in violent circumstances. This time it was personal, not only because she knew the victim and his family, but because she blamed herself, thinking that she should’ve been the one Nikolaev’s men had made an example of. The one now en route to the city morgue.

  Hopefully Irene didn’t feel the same way.

  The woman who didn’t yet know she was a widow was probably hoping for a non-fatal accident, the traffic car to speed her to a local hospital to sit by her husband’s bedside. Kate was about to disabuse her of that self-deception and take away all hope.

  Irene beat her to it.

  ‘Is it bad?’ She didn’t wait for a reply. Seeing the answer reflected in Kate’s eyes, Irene dry-heaved, hand finding her mouth, unable to stem the wail waiting there. ‘He didn’t make it?’

  As Kate sat down, the two women fell into an embrace, grieving for a husband and colleague, part of the same police family.

  Seemingly unaware of Jo lingering uncomfortably in the doorway, Irene pulled away, still processing the information. ‘What happened?’ Her voice was barely audible. ‘Tell me the truth, Kate. All of it. I want none of your bullshit.’

  Kate remained calm. ‘It wasn’t accidental. He was murdered for doing his job.’ To anyone else, coming out with that might sound brutal, but Irene was relatively young, a strong woman. The couple had married in their late teens, shortly before Robbo joined the police. A decade on, she knew the score and deserved to know the whole truth. Kate owed her that courtesy.

  ‘How much do you know about what he was working on?’

  ‘Everything, so now you tell me.’ Irene’s expression hardened, a plea to be kept in the loop. ‘Please, Kate. I need to know. Tell me he didn’t do anything stupid to get himself killed.’

  ‘No, he loved you too much for that. He was doing his duty, following orders …’ Her orders. ‘He was trying to gather intelligence—’

  ‘On that piece of shit gunned down in a home built and paid for with blood money?’ Irene was angry now. ‘That bastard deserved to die in the worst way possible. Rob didn’t, though he knew the risks involved and that people could get hurt. I never imagined it would be him.’

  Kate’s heart went out to her.

  Irene was right, of course. Who the hell cared about the scum who trafficked drugs for profit?

  Kate had more to say, none of it good. ‘It’s too early to tell you much. We don’t know for sure, but we think Robbo went out to meet an informant and was followed. He was shot, more than once—’

  ‘An execution then?’

  Kate’s nod was almost imperceptible.

  ‘You must have your suspicions—’

  ‘Bright thinks it’s a warning, and I agree with him. Every one of us is now a target, including you. I’ve arranged for a protection team to watch the house. They’ll be here before I leave and Jo will stay with you until Robbo’s parents get here. An officer has been dispatched to break the news. What about your parents? Would you like me to tell them?’

  ‘No, I’ll do it. This news will destroy them. I wouldn’t lay that on you.’

  The subsequent telephone call was hard to witness.

  Kate gave Irene a hug as she returned to the sofa. ‘Robbo is irreplaceable to all of us,’ she said. ‘Bright and the team asked me to pass on their condolences. I want you to know that we’ll all be working round the clock to find whoever did this. You’re not alone, so if you need anything, any of you, please ask. In the meantime, it might be advisable for you and Callum to stay with your mum and dad for a while, or with your parents-in-law if you prefer. I can make the arrangements for you. Just say the word. Until we know exactly what we’re dealing with, we’re taking no chances.’

  Irene thanked her for her honesty.

  ‘I knew he was up against it, but …’ Her words caught in her throat. ‘Kate, he was so proud to have been given the chance to prove himself. Acting DI was unexpected, but when Bright asked him to stand in as SIO, it was a dream come true. He was worried about Jo, about you, too, but he saw it as a way to prove himself, to make amends for past mistakes.’

  Kate was almost lost for words. ‘No one held that against him, Irene—’

  ‘I know, but it’s down to you that he kicked his gambling habit. You will never know how grateful he was, as I am. We nearly lost our home – not that it matters now. I couldn’t live here without him.’ Irene wanted to talk and Kate let her. ‘When Rob was in uniform, I worried every day that he’d get injured, especially if he was on nights, but when he joined the MIT as statement reader, he joked that the worst thing that could happen to him was a paper cut.’ Her bravery dissolved into a sob. ‘How the hell will I explain to Callum that his daddy is never coming home?’

  75

  Kate was on autopilot as she was driven at high speed back to base, the cityscape flashing by, life going on as normal outside the vehicle, a heavy atmosphere within. Her driver, a female traffic cop she knew well, didn’t speak and neither did Kate. Every member of the force was grieving. With an officer down, what the fuck was there to say?

  When Kate walked into the incident room her team were subdued. Given that she and Hank had found Jo, if tragedy hadn’t overtaken them, there would have been cheers, everyone on their feet, greeting them. On the plane, Kate had imagined their homecoming, how great it would feel to be back where she belonged, ready to resume charge of her team, but the atmosphere around her was grim.

  Hank l
ooked up from his desk, a half-smile of encouragement. She’d promised him a few days off, but that was now a pipe dream. His wife and son would have to wait a while longer to celebrate and spend time with him. Under the circumstances, they would make that sacrifice.

  Carmichael walked by looking ill.

  Kate grabbed her arm. ‘You OK?’

  Despite her best efforts, the young DC lost it, a reaction to Robbo’s death and seeing her boss in the office for the first time since she’d disappeared to London on a personal crusade.

  Kate locked eyes with her. ‘Lisa, I need you to be strong now. With your help, we’ll get a result. If you can’t do it for the team, do it for Robbo, Irene and Callum. This is about them now, not us. Take five, then I want you in here with your shit together.’

  Carmichael gave a nod, wandering away in no particular direction, totally lost and far too upset to respond. Seeing her head go down, Hank had a quiet word as she passed his desk. There had never been a more important time to lift morale – not only hers, but everyone else’s. He got up and joined Kate, letting out a sigh as he arrived by her side.

  ‘She’s OK,’ he said. ‘Are you?’

  Kate flicked her head towards the muddle of work stations occupied by their detective colleagues. ‘The bigger question is, are they?’

  ‘They all volunteered to stay on rather than pitch up first thing in the morning,’ Hank said. ‘I think that says it all, don’t you?’

  ‘Bright called. He’s briefing the chief. He’ll be here any minute. Before the madness takes over, call Julie. Warn her to lock the door, not to answer to anyone.’

  ‘She’s gone already. Her sister’s place. First thing I did when I heard the news.’

  ‘Good move. Irene will follow suit as soon as her parents arrive. They’re flying up from Heathrow, ETA eight fifty. Send a car to pick them up.’

 

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