The Divinities

by Parker Bilal

  ‘You have no right to judge us. I don’t agree with what they did out there. I don’t care how bad things are. I don’t know what he was accused of, and I don’t want to know. However bad it was, Brian paid for what he did.’ She was shaking her head as if in disagreement with herself. ‘He went back there to try and make things right. He didn’t have to do that, and he paid for it with his life.’

  ‘I understand, Mrs Hicks, and I want to thank you.’

  ‘I don’t want your thanks!’ She was almost in tears by now. ‘Don’t you see? I just want to forget.’

  ‘I wish I could just walk away, but I can’t. I need to ask one last question. How do I find Luke? Just tell me that and I’ll be gone.’

  Mrs Hicks clutched a hand wordlessly to her mouth and Ray thought she had lost her. Then she looked up.

  ‘You promise?’

  ‘You have my word.’

  Mrs Hicks sniffed loudly. ‘I’ve lost him too. He’ll never come back here. Too many memories. The last I heard he was working in London. One of those men who stand outside nightclubs. What do you call them?’

  ‘A bouncer? Do you know where?’

  ‘No. We couldn’t talk in the end. He turned his back on us.’

  ‘How do I find him? Do you have an address?’

  The woman shook her head. ‘No, he doesn’t want anything more to do with this family.’

  ‘What does that mean?’

  ‘He says we all betrayed Brian. It’s not true. We stood by him. There was nothing we could do.’

  She began to sob. Ray left her to it.

  CHAPTER 47

  The sound of a driver leaning on his car horn shook Drake from an uneasy sleep. He had a nasty crick in his neck and his back hurt. He rubbed his eyes and looked at the dashboard. Not even seven o’clock. Crane had been right, he had wasted his time. No sign of Kronnos or Flinders. He climbed out of the car and checked his phone as he walked around in a circle, limping slightly. He had a feeling there was a nerve trapped. His left leg felt numb.

  Outside the gates to Magnolia Quays, the van driver had climbed down from his cab to walk up to the gates and peer through. Drake walked over and flashed his badge.

  ‘Can I ask what you’re doing here?’

  ‘It’s my job, innit?’ The man spoke with a heavy European accent that Drake couldn’t place. ‘All the locks got to be changed.’

  ‘The site is closed. There’s a police investigation.’

  ‘Police? No kiddin?’ He reached into his leather jacket for a phone. Drake listened while he checked with his office. He didn’t understand a word. Well, two words: magnolia, and Apostolis.

  ‘You work for Donny Apostolis?’

  The man shrugged. ‘He’s guvnor now.’

  ‘You mean, he’s running this project?’

  ‘Like I say, he the boss.’ The man turned away as his phone rang again. Drake needed breakfast and remembered a café van parked down by the river behind the site. He said a silent prayer and it was answered when he spied the old Commer van sitting there. The man tying on an apron was a sprightly and bearded sixty-year-old.

  ‘Any chance of a coffee? Large, black, no sugar.’

  ‘Machine’s just heating up, mate.’

  ‘I’ll wait.’

  ‘Something to eat with that?’

  ‘What have you got?’ Drake followed the man’s finger towards a chalkboard menu. He picked the first thing that caught his eye. ‘Fried egg sandwich.’

  ‘Bacon?’

  ‘No, thanks.’

  ‘Coming up.’

  Drake moved over towards the river’s edge. The gulls were whipping around overhead in that early-morning frenzy of looking for something to eat.

  It looked like Donny had taken over the Magnolia Quays project from Thwaite. Cal doubted there was any way of proving that Donny had been involved in the murders, though it wasn’t hard to see how that might have worked to his advantage. It would have been relatively easy for Donny to gain access to information about crushed rock suppliers like Dobson Creek.

  More immediately Drake was concerned about why Flinders had not shown. There might have been an innocent explanation. On the other hand, he may have decided that returning to the site was too risky. Drake walked back to the van.

  ‘Can you wrap that up for me?’

  In the car, he managed to juggle coffee, sandwich and gearstick without causing injury to himself or anyone else. The choice of a fried egg sandwich was not the most practical, he realized, as yolk dribbled onto his trousers. Once he got onto the A4 he put his foot down and punched the coordinates for Kronnos Security into his GPS. It was somewhere out near Heathrow, on an industrial estate in Feltham.

  The forecourt was separated from the road by high wire fencing but the gates were open. A line of vans was parked up against the front of a grey two-storey building. A row of windows ran below a strip of dark blue metal sheeting. The same dark blue colour as the vans. Yellow letters with black borders spelled out the name of the company: Kronnos Security Services, along with the familiar zig-zagging yellow line. A huge Emirates jet blotted out the sky as he got out of the car, screeching overhead so low he could taste burning aviation fuel.

  Inside the front office a woman was busy behind the high counter. She was stapling sheets of paper together with the concentration of a brain surgeon. Seeing Drake standing there seemed to stress her more. She came over, still holding the stapler. Drake showed her his badge.

  ‘You have an operative by the name of Flinders.’

  ‘Matt Flinders?’

  ‘That’s the one. Any chance I could have a word?’

  ‘Has he done something wrong?’

  Before Drake could answer, she put a hand to the headset that sat lopsidedly around her neck. Lifting it into place, she said, ‘Kronnos Security. How can I help you?’

  Drake was impressed by how she had modulated her voice to sound gentler and more inviting. He used the interlude to look around the office. There wasn’t much to see. A few large posters advertising their services which included cybersecurity as well as the real thing. A map explained how they were part of a world-wide network of similar firms.

  ‘Sorry about that,’ she said when she had finished with her caller.

  ‘I was asking about Matt Flinders.’

  The woman tapped her headpiece. ‘Could have saved yourself a trip.’

  ‘How so?’

  ‘Well, he’s not here. Nobody’s seen him for days.’

  ‘Do you have any information about him, home address, that sort of thing?’

  ‘Well, I don’t know.’ She fingered her headset nervously. ‘What’s he done?’

  ‘I can’t really say.’ Drake looked around. ‘Is there someone I could talk to?’

  ‘You mean, apart from me? Well, there’s Mr Khan, but he’s not going to be much help. He’s the boss, technically, but you know.’ She leaned forward, lowering her voice. ‘He doesn’t have much contact with the day-to-day running of things.’

  ‘Then who does?’

  ‘Me.’ The smile wavered. A hand fluttered to the corner of her mouth. ‘Is that egg?’ She held up a box of pink tissues. Drake wiped his face.

  ‘It could be a great help if you would let me look at his file.’

  ‘This is something serious, isn’t it?’

  ‘Look, I can’t tell you anything more right now, but I do need to speak to him urgently, and I don’t want him to know I’m looking for him.’

  ‘Gotcha,’ nodded the woman. She was watching him closely, trying to decide whether to trust him or not. ‘We’re not supposed to give out personal details of our operatives.’

  ‘This is a police matter,’ he reminded her.

  ‘I know, but people have rights, you know?’

  ‘Course they do.’

  ‘I could show you his file, I suppose, but it wouldn’t help.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Because the address he gave doesn’t exist.’

&nbs
p; Drake was intrigued. ‘And you know this how?’

  ‘Just routine. I needed to send him some documentation, for the insurance coverage. I looked it up. Didn’t exist.’

  ‘And what did he say to that?’ There was no doubt in his mind that she would have confronted Flinders with the facts.

  ‘He said he was between places, staying with friends.’

  ‘Is that not a problem, employees not having a fixed address?’

  She smiled. ‘It’s the way of things, isn’t it? Nowadays, I mean, you get all sorts. We had one feller who was living in a caravan. Another had one of those shipping containers.’

  ‘Right. So, you haven’t seen him for . . .’

  ‘Three days. Mr Khan is furious. Clients were upset. And he took the van.’ She was fidgeting with her headset again. ‘Actually, I was supposed to report it.’

  ‘But you didn’t?’

  ‘Well, I thought, he’s probably just in a spot of bother. He’ll sort it out.’

  ‘Bit of a charmer is he?’

  ‘Well, I wouldn’t say that.’

  ‘But you were covering for him.’

  Her face grew flushed. ‘I try to help people. He had a hard time finding work. Why make life difficult for people when you can help them? Live and let live is what I say.’

  One of life’s homespun philosophers, ready to give the world the benefit of her insight.

  ‘Telephone number?’ Cal ventured.

  ‘You’re welcome to it, but I’ve been trying for days with no joy.’ She lifted a Post-it note from her side of the counter and handed it over. Drake copied the number onto his phone. He thanked her while he dialled.

  Outside he leaned against the BMW and listened to the disconnected tone. The downside was that he was running out of options here. On the positive side he was more convinced than ever that he was on the right track. As he climbed in behind the wheel he called Crane.

  CHAPTER 48

  Crane woke early and went straight up to her office to get to work. She rearranged the material she had and began sifting systematically through it again. Not so much looking for what she had missed as trying to get an overall view of what she was dealing with.

  What she had learned so far was that Brian Hicks had a brother called Luke. Eighteen months younger than Brian, Luke had never joined the military, never seen action in Iraq. He was, by the look of the material she had gathered on him, a bit of a waster, couldn’t really stick to anything. He attended a business college in Wolverhampton for a couple of years, during which he managed to get himself arrested for intent to supply class-A drugs before he dropped out. The case was botched due to the contamination of evidence by the investigating officer. He caught a lucky break. After that he wandered around. Odd jobs here and there, none of which indicated a particular direction. Then he moved to London and started working in nightclubs and bars. Officially he was employed by Belovuk Clubs Ltd. The name, Heather had discovered, meant ‘white wolf’ in Serbian. That took her back to Stewart’s files where she discovered that Belovuk had belonged to one Goran Malevich. Coincidence, or something more?

  When Goran died, the company folded and Luke Hicks disappeared again. Now she was hoping to fill in the blanks. She wondered if Drake had been on to something with his interest in the security guard. Could Hicks have started working at Kronnos Security Services under the name Flinders? Someone with access to the security systems could access the building site as well as getting hold of manifests and tracking information.

  It might come to nothing, but Ray had the feeling that if she had any luck she would be able to locate Luke Hicks, or someone connected to him. It still felt a little sketchy, which was why she was planning to wait until she had something more substantial before mentioning it to Cal.

  She sat back in her chair. What effect might it have to see your brother go to pieces, so much so that he heads back into a war zone with a deathwish? Luke and Brian must have been close. Luke would have felt Brian’s pain. Perhaps he grew tired of living in his brother’s shadow. Luke had achieved little in life, while Brian had joined the army. He went off to Iraq, got himself into a little trouble and then started earning money as a private contractor. When that went bad he came home, only that didn’t bring peace either.

  The door opened and Heather stuck her head round.

  ‘Got a moment?’

  ‘Sure, what’s up?’

  ‘I just made some nettle tea and wondered if you’d like a cup?’

  Ray winced. ‘Coffee please, if there’s some going.’

  ‘No problem.’ Heather made as if to go and then changed her mind, stepping inside the office and closing the door. ‘Oh, I forgot. He’s here again,’ she whispered.

  ‘Who is?’

  ‘The man who won’t take no for an answer. Richard Haynes.’

  Crane slumped back in her chair. She’d forgotten about Haynes. She recalled him only as a stubborn problem, not even a proper patient, that would not go away. ‘I thought I’d made it clear.’

  ‘I know, I know.’

  ‘And you gave him the recommendation to Doctor Marsden?’

  ‘Just as you said, yes. But . . .’ Heather lifted her shoulders.

  ‘Well, leave him be and I’ll be out in a minute to speak with him.’

  ‘Okay, fine.’ Heather gave an exaggerated sigh of relief. ‘I’ll get you that coffee.’

  The door closed. It opened again ten minutes later to reveal Heather holding a tray.

  ‘More biscuits? I warned you about that, Heather.’

  ‘Well, these are special. I made them myself. They have coconut in them. Very healthy.’

  ‘Thanks, anyway.’

  ‘In my humble opinion you worry too much about your waistline. Oh and problem solved.’ Heather pointed out towards reception. ‘He left.’

  ‘One less problem to deal with,’ said Crane. She reached for her coffee as she went back to her papers, acknowledging that, whatever you said about Heather, she did make good coffee.

  Brian Hicks was never prosecuted. He came home and went to pieces. How had it been for his brother to witness that? The older brother he had idolized. By all accounts Brian had suffered a breakdown. He was wandering the streets, sleeping rough. Heather had turned up a classified ad from this time (how exactly she did this, Ray didn’t know, but it was one of the best reasons she knew for keeping her on). The ad was taken out by Luke in a number of national papers, looking for information about his brother.

  How much would Luke have learned of his brother’s history? Was he angry, disappointed? He had probably looked up to his older brother. Brian had done everything right. Turned himself into a hero. Gone abroad to fight for queen and country while Luke stayed home.

  When Brian returned he was changed. Almost immediately he had gone off again, to fight for the Kurds against Islamic State, one of the most vicious militias the world had ever seen.

  Ray knew that the reason this case was so important to her was because Brian had been one of her patients. She had failed him, failed all of them. Was that what she was hoping to find here, some redemption of her own?

  The door opened and Crane looked up to see Heather backing into the room. She was moving in a strange, stiff way. Something fell from her hand, spilling its contents on the wooden floor. The shaker containing fish food.

  ‘Heather?’ Ray was already on her feet, coming around the desk. ‘What is it?’

  Heather turned towards her, one hand clapped over her mouth, her eyes wide with horror. Ray grabbed hold of her shoulders.

  ‘What? What is it?’

  Heather couldn’t bring herself to speak. Wordlessly, she raised a trembling finger and pointed. Leaving her there, Crane stepped out of the office into the reception area. It was silent and deserted. She couldn’t see anything out of place. To the right was Heather’s desk. The brown leather sofa against the wall for visitors. The coffee table covered in magazines. Between the sofa and the window stood the fish tank with a little
heap of fish food in front of it. Crane moved instinctively towards it.

  She was almost there when she realized that something was wrong. The fish swam through the brightly lit water, their colours bright, silvery blue, orange, red and yellow.

  There was something in the tank. Something that shouldn’t have been there.

  Ray stepped closer. It was dark and heavy and lay on the little layer of small stones on the bottom. It wasn’t one of the rocks they had put in there for decoration, it was a hand. A human hand. The fish were nibbling at it.

  Crane could hear Heather sobbing to herself in the office. She moved across the room without taking her eyes off the tank, and reached for the phone on the reception desk. She lifted the receiver to her ear and started to press the buttons when she realized the line was dead. She turned to go back to her office for her own phone, only to find him blocking her path.

  ‘Haynes?’

  ‘Hello, Doctor Crane.’ He was smiling.

  Crane started to move. She saw the Taser in his hand as it flashed. The wires shot out to pin themselves to her chest. She looked down as the charge jolted through her, then she felt herself begin to fall. Somewhere far off she heard a scream that might or might not have been her.

  CHAPTER 49

  Drake circled back to Raven Hill. He had tried everything he could think of to put a track on Flinders, but without luck. He’d tried contacting Crane, but it went through to voicemail every time. No doubt she had more important things to do than talk to him. He found Milo in a despondent mood.

  ‘You missed the debriefing. Pryce was asking about you.’

  ‘Don’t tell me: he wanted to praise me for my help last night?’

  Milo winced. ‘I didn’t get that impression. Did you sleep in your car again?’

  ‘Why do you ask?’

  ‘You’re wearing the same clothes as yesterday and you’ve got a Bounty wrapper stuck to your sleeve.’

  Drake removed the offending item. ‘One of these days you’re going to make a fine detective.’