Nothing.
Felt again.
Nothing.
He rubbed his hand anxiously against his soaking shirt.
Oh God. Oh God.
Then he remembered . . .
Nikki.
He shouted his daughter’s name.
No answer.
He ran for her room. Thrust the door back.
No Nikki.
Can’t breathe. Can’t breathe.
It was like someone had shoved a plastic bag over his head. Frank twisted around and belted for the stairs. Ran. Almost fell just before he reached the bottom. He had to get help. His gaze skid crazily around.
Phone. Phone.
He remembered his mobile charging in the lounge. He staggered into the room and back into a world of violins. He shook his head remembering the two protection officers in the car outside. And that’s when he felt it; someone else was in the room.
‘Nikki?’ he cried out as he turned around.
But it wasn’t his beloved daughter.
7:47 p.m.
Siren still going, Rio slammed hard into the Bells’ road and skidded to a halt behind another vehicle parked outside the house. Next to it stood Jack Strong.
‘What’s up?’ he asked as soon as she reached him. ‘The protection guys,’ a nod of his head indicating the other officers in the car across the road, ‘said everything’s quiet.’
‘The hit out on the girl is for five hundred grand and to be done within five days.’
Strong’s face turned icy and hard. ‘They’ll have to get through me first.’
Rio might not like the guy but he sounded like a man up for the job.
‘You think something’s going on?’ he continued.
‘Just a feeling I’ve got. Once we’ve made sure that the situation is secure I’m going to have a chat with her parents because I want Nikki under my full protection.’
Rio turned to the car parked across the road and raised her hand to signal she wanted the protection officers to remain in place.
‘I don’t want to go in mob-handed and shake the family up if there’s nothing out of place,’ Rio explained to Strong.
But when they reached the front of the house, the way Rio hammered the knocker against the door was enough to wake up the dead. No response. Rio didn’t try a second time, just moved out of the way so that Strong could kick the door in. Three solid kicks later they were in.
The house was still: a stillness Rio didn’t like.
‘Mr and Mrs Bell?’ Rio called as she moved cautiously forwards.
Silence.
‘I don’t like this,’ Strong whispered. ‘Shall I check upstairs?’
‘No. I don’t know what’s in that room. I need you by my side.’
Their eyes held for a fraction of a second acknowledging this was the first time that Rio had admitted she needed his help. As soon as they entered the main room, Rio saw Frank Bell’s prone body on the floor. She crouched by it and felt for a pulse, then turned to Strong and shook her head. Turning back to the body she noticed something thick wrapped around his neck, some type of black lead. She peered closer and noticed something small, rectangular and silver hanging off the end of the lead. Rio quickly figured out what she was seeing – a USB attachment. Her eyes scanned the room and stopped when she saw the phone near the electrical wall socket. Whoever had killed Frank Bell she suspected had strangled him with his own mobile phone charger.
‘Get the protection guys in here and call for backup and an ambulance,’ Rio said to Strong as she stood up.
She ran back out into the hallway, yelling, ‘Nikki, Nikki . . .’ She rushed from room to room to see if there was any sign of the girl but she found none downstairs.
She took the steps two at a time, frantically shoved opened the first door she came to: master bedroom, no one inside. The next room, a bathroom.
‘Shit, shit shit,’ Rio fiercely cursed as she was confronted by a naked, wet, still Patsy Bell, lying face-up on the cold floor.
Rio twisted out of the room. ‘Nikki. Nikki!’
She kept up calling the girl’s name as she hit the next room. The room with the picture of a teddy bear on the front. Rio inhaled a deep breath bracing herself for what she might find inside. Finally she opened the door. Empty. Mini iPad on the neatly made bed, the temperature was cold with the night air coming in from the half-opened window. Open window? That’s where the girl’s body was likely to be, broken on the ground outside. But when Rio looked down from the window, there was no sign of a body, only the roof of the conservatory. Back facing inside, Rio called the teenager’s name again, hoping that she might have had the wits to hide again. So Rio checked the built-in wardrobe and under the bed.
‘DI?’ The other detective poked his head into the room. ‘You need to see this.’ He disappeared back on to the landing. Rio followed him and found him looking up. She followed his gaze to find the attic wide open.
‘That’s probably where he was hiding,’ Strong explained.
‘Probably came straight here when he escaped from the hospital. No wonder the protection guys didn’t notice anything strange.’ Rio threw her hands up to stop herself punching the wall. ‘But where’s Nikki?’
‘Two possibilities,’ Strong supplied as the sirens screamed outside. ‘Either she got away through that open window in her bedroom, or the killer took her with him.’
eighteen
8:00 p.m.
Rio stared at the zipped body bag containing Frank Bell’s body as it was wheeled away. The blue and red lights of the ambulances and police cars blurred in the hard-hitting rain as Rio stood outside. Despite the activity of her colleagues, an unsettled, dark quiet circled around her. And guilt. Once again she felt that she’d let down someone in her care. Detective Martin’s young, eager face flashed in her mind. Then the image of how she’d last seen him, throat savagely cut . . .
‘No point doing that.’
Rio tilted her wet face to find Strong in front of her.
He continued, his silver threaded black hair sleek in the rain. ‘You followed procedure—’
‘I should’ve checked the house thoroughly when I was here earlier.’
‘But you didn’t.’ A shadow passed over Strong’s face. Rio knew that he was remembering the death of the youth that had placed him squarely in the unforgiving spotlight. For the first time she wanted to know his side of the story; but wanting to know and going there were two different things.
‘What we have to deal with,’ he continued, ‘is where we are now: a missing girl who might have done a runner, or been taken.’ He tunnelled his fingers through his damp hair. ‘I’ve spoken to the neighbours and no one saw anything. The people on the left said they heard raised voices earlier, which apparently was no unusual thing. So maybe the kid cut out before all this carnage happened.’
Rio shook her head. ‘But the footprints in the garden were fresh and two different shoe sizes.’ She flexed her right fingers as her thumb rubbed along her wrist scar. ‘What I don’t get is why take her and not kill her at the scene instead?’
‘But she might be out there,’ Strong persisted, ‘with someone she feels safe with. I’ll get in contact with the actress cousin because they’ve obviously got a tight relationship. If she isn’t there Ophelia Bell may know where she might be. Go back inside the house and see if you can find an address book . . . anything that can put us in touch with people who may know where she’s gone.’
Abruptly Rio stared hard at him. ‘Don’t forget whose running this show.’
Strong just raised an eyebrow. ‘Like I could do that, brown—’
‘You call me brown sugar again dickhead and you’re in the next body bag leaving here.’
With that Rio stomped back towards the house. Made sure she put on gloves and new protective footwear before going inside. Instead of going straight to Nikki Bell’s room she did what she always did – a careful walk-through of the crime scene. She took each room downstairs in turn, chec
king cupboards, drawers . . . looking for any type of paperwork that had a name, an address that could lead to the girl. She found plenty of stuff about the mother and father – paid bills, golf club membership, results of a smear test, more paid bills, but nothing hinting about where or who Nikki might turn to on a cold, wet night.
Rio took the stairs and walked into the master bedroom. Painted a peaceful green with a three-door built-in wardrobe and a king-size bed with an ornate iron headboard and footboard. Two towel robes – blue and white – were neatly laid out on an easy chair by a simple dressing table. But Rio headed for the chest of drawers.
Just before she reached it, her phone pinged. Text from Strong.
Cousin not answering. Found anything?
Rio answered.
No. In parents room.
Checked the girl’s room yet?
No.
I’ll do it.
Rio punched off. Got back on with searching the chest of drawers. The first two drawers were full of underclothes: the first drawer those of Patsy Bell’s and the second belonging to her husband. The third drawer got Rio’s surprised attention. It was filled with photographs. She couldn’t see them too well so she grabbed the whole drawer out and placed it on the bed. Lots of photos of a baby – a little cutie with blonde hair and soft eyes that hadn’t yet made up their mind whether they were blue or grey. Rio guessed they were Nikki. But why keep them tossed together in a drawer somewhere like a shameful secret? Rio raised her eyebrows as she remembered where she kept the one and only picture she had of her dad: beneath her mattress. Made her remember him every night she got into bed, but she didn’t have to look at his sorry arse every day. Whatever the Bells’ reasons for tucking their daughter’s baby image away wasn’t helping her find who the girl might have gone to, if that’s what had happened.
Rio picked the drawer up and as she started to slot it back in its place the photos swerved to the side and a bunch of folded white papers appeared. She pulled them out. Unfolded. Read.
An adoption form. From the correspondence and letters Rio had found downstairs she recognised that it was filled in with Frank Bell’s handwriting.
Adopted child’s name: Nicola
Age: 10 days old.
Name of adoption parents: Patsy Anna Bell. Frank Stanley . . .
Frank had scratched out the next bit of the writing, obviously realising that he’d made a mistake.
Clou
Then written Bell.
Birth mother’s name:
There was no birth mother’s name. Or birth father’s.
So little Nikki was adopted. Rio wondered if the girl knew? Was that why this house was so filled with tension and disagreements? Had Nikki found out and wanted to find her birth parents?
‘Detective Inspector. Found something.’
Rio’s head came up as she heard Strong’s shout. She folded the adoption papers and tucked them into her bag, headed for Nikki’s bedroom. She found Strong with the girl’s iPad flipped open next to him on the bed.
‘Think we’ve hit the jackpot,’ he said as Rio reached him and sat down.
‘Should’ve clicked to this one a lot sooner. My daughter was always on her mobile and living her life online.’ He continued. ‘Nikki is no different. Look.’
He pointed at the screen. Rio read.
Madam B: Got to get out of here!*!*
se15: Let’s meet up.
Madam B: Text me where.
Rio looked up at her colleague. ‘Shit, she’s taken her phone. At least we know she’s with someone she knows.’
But instead of affirming what she’d said, Strong scrolled up the page of Nikki’s virtual conversations with se15.
‘Maybe not. Read this,’ Strong said quietly.
Rio again read. Her breath caught in her throat.
‘She’s been telling someone all about the case and that she’s a witness. Stupid girl. Probably a friend of hers?’
‘We can’t say that because I can’t load any conversations that they may have had earlier today. What if she’s been communicating with the hitman and of course never realised?’
Rio swallowed hard. ‘The hitman comes here and kills her parents, but before that he makes careful arrangements for her to meet him. That doesn’t make any sense. Why wouldn’t he have just finished the job here?’
‘Who’s meeting who?’ Another person asked in a commanding voice.
They both looked up to find the Assistant Commissioner standing in the doorway.
Rio was back outside with Strong and the AC. The rain was as sharp as the words Pauline Tripple battered Rio with.
‘Give me one reason why I should keep you on this case?’
Rio tipped her chin defiantly. ‘Because you taught me to make sure I saw an investigation through to the end. You told me that there are no loose ends, no excuses: just get the job done. The only family you have are the victims in your case. You don’t sleep, don’t eat, don’t shit, don’t piss until you know how it’s going to end.’
Tripple frowned. ‘I don’t think I used the words shit or piss.’
‘Yes you did, ma’am.’ Rio pulled in a heavy breath. She knew what was coming – she was off the bloody case.
‘A father died in that house. And a mother . . .’
‘I know, ma’am,’ Rio cut in softly. ‘We put all the proper procedures in place. We weren’t able to do this earlier because Stephen Foster had built a wall between us and the family. As soon as more Intel came to me about the hit out on the girl I acted straight away.’
‘And is the girl safe?’
Rio pressed her lips together. Once the AC found out that Nikki was long gone, probably making her way to her death – if she wasn’t dead already – Rio would be lucky if she wasn’t stripped of her stripes.
Rio opened her mouth, but Strong got there before her. ‘Yes, ma’am.’
WTF? Rio jerked in astonishment to look at him.
‘Where is she?’ the older woman carried on in her clipped tone.
‘A safe place.’ Strong continued. ‘If you’ll excuse me, ma’am, but myself, the DI and the team guarding her are the only ones in the know. And we want to keep it that way for now. So, no disrespect, but that information is of a sensitive nature, which means we won’t be able to tell you where she’s located.’
Tripple gave him a sharp look. Then nodded. ‘OK.’ She switched her intimidating gaze back to Rio. ‘Tomorrow at nine, on the dot, I want to personally reassure her that everything is being done to find her family’s killers and that we are going to make it priority number one to keep her safe.’
Knowing she was deep in a lie not of her making, Rio nodded.
‘I hear that you may have a new angle on the case. Something about a possible drug deal? That’s the type of work that keeps my confidence in you, DI Wray. But tread carefully, follow procedure; we can’t afford to have any more law suits on our hands.’ Then she swung her gaze between both of them. ‘Good work getting the girl to a safe place.’
As soon as she was gone Rio twisted in fury to face Strong.
‘What the fuck did you say that for?’
He moved closer to her, his blue eyes stormy with emotion. ‘You tell her Nicola Bell has become a ghost and you are off the case.’
‘And why would you,’ Rio’s gaze snapped all over him, ‘give a crap in hell about that?’
‘Has it occurred to you that I want to make sure Nikki is safe as well? And that I think she’ll be safer if you’re on the case.’ There was a sadness in his face that she remembered seeing when they’d first met Nicola and she’d asked him, with an honesty so many children had, if his daughter wasn’t alive anymore. Rio didn’t even know if he had kids. But what if there was something in his background that made him need to find the girl?
But Rio didn’t mention any of that as she replied, ‘No one said that you were going to be shoved off the case.’
He pushed his head slightly forwards, something other than the rain makin
g his eyes glimmer. ‘Maybe I like the touch and feel of coffee spilling all over me.’
Heat rose high in Rio’s face. Two questions stormed into her mind. Was this man, of all men, hitting on her? But by far the worst question, was she enjoying it? Down girl!
Rio got her mind back on the dilemma in front of her, remembered what she had a reputation for. ‘No. We can’t do this. I don’t cut corners. I play everything by the book. She wants to see the girl in the morning for fuck’s sake. What are we going to do when she arrives?’
Strong moved his head out of her space. ‘Your sense of duty can wait. This girl can’t. We’ve got a lead – se15. If that’s the killer —?’
‘I’ve already said that that doesn’t make sense.’
‘Can you think of anyone else it’s going to be?’
Rio found herself nodding like someone was pulling a string attached to the middle of her head. Then she started throwing out orders.
‘Let’s see if we can track her movements through her mobile phone.’
nineteen
9:10 p.m.
‘Well, well, well,’ the woman said as her eyes lazily ran all over Jack Strong standing in the doorway with Rio. ‘If it isn’t Detective Jack . . .’ her hooded eyes rested on his face. ‘Strong in all the right places.’
Rio wasn’t sure whether to roll her eyes or chuckle because the woman in the Information Bureau looked like she was about to celebrate her seventieth birthday any day now. The Bureau was on the second floor of a building that was about a mile away from The Fort. Its workers were a small team of admin staff, not police officers, and their job was to obtain information from the three main telephone towers. Rio and Strong’s big problem was that any use of outside agencies was going to cost and that meant a paper trail that would show up their lie. Accessing mobile phone records was no different. So Jack had told Rio to let him do all the talking.
‘Sylvia.’ Strong’s lips eased into a long, cheeky grin.
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