Wrong Place

by Michelle Davies

  She was writing down their final exchange about the photograph when the door to the relatives’ room opened again and the male nurse who’d let her into HDU appeared.

  ‘Oh good, you’re still here,’ he said. ‘There’s a message for you. They said they couldn’t reach you on your mobile.’

  He handed Maggie a scrap of paper with ‘Call DI Gant URGENT’ scrawled across it in black biro.

  ‘I put it on silent,’ said Maggie, retrieving her phone from the pocket of her overcoat. The display showed five missed calls, one from DS Renshaw, the others from the Family Liaison coordinator for their force, DI Gant.

  She immediately suspected the calls were connected. DI Gant only ever rang when he was assigning her to a new case; assuming he’d already cleared it with her DCI at Mansell CID, as protocol dictated, she guessed Renshaw was calling because she wasn’t happy to lose Maggie from the robberies investigation and wanted to vent. Maggie knew which of them she’d call back first.

  ‘He rang through to the nurses’ station but didn’t give his number, said you already had it.’

  ‘I do, thank you.’

  ‘You’ll have to go outside to ring him back,’ the nurse said snippily. ‘Mobile use is restricted here.’

  ‘I know – that’s why mine was on silent.’

  ‘Well, good,’ he huffed as Maggie followed him out of the room. ‘The door code to get back in is 3749.’

  Maggie didn’t think she’d need it. If DI Gant needed her deployed elsewhere, this would be her last involvement with the case for now and she’d have to hand her hunch about Della lying over to Renshaw. She said thank you to the nurse and made her way back to the lifts. As she stepped inside the first to arrive, her phone lit up to signal Renshaw was calling again. She let it ring.

  Outside the hospital entrance Maggie squinted as her eyes adjusted to the sunlight. The sky was bright blue and virtually cloudless but the temperature was at least ten degrees below agreeable, typical for November. The cold stung her face and she wished she’d remembered her gloves as she clutched her phone against her ear with numbed fingers to call DI Gant back.

  The second he picked up she knew something was wrong. He sounded harassed, which wasn’t like him.

  ‘About bloody time, Neville,’ he snapped. ‘Don’t you ever answer your phone?’

  ‘I was in HDU, sir. I had it on silent.’

  ‘Fine. Don’t move from that spot.’

  ‘Sorry?’

  ‘Have you heard about the attempted murder-suicide in Trenton?’ He didn’t wait for her to answer. ‘The female victim is on her way to Mansell General. Her injuries are serious but not life-threatening and the SIO has asked if you’re available to be her FLO. I’ve checked with your DCI and you are.’

  Maggie’s mouth went dry and her pulse quickened.

  ‘Who’s the SIO?’

  ‘For now it’s DCI Umpire. His new Homicide and Major Enquiry Team are working with Trenton CID on this one.’

  Umpire had asked for her. A tremor shot through her and she gripped her phone tighter. She couldn’t decide whether she was excited or nervous but at least she’d get to talk to him face to face. He hadn’t returned any of the messages she’d left him last night or that morning.

  They’d both been at the Old Bailey in London yesterday for the sentencing hearing in the Rosie Kinnock case. As the senior of the two FLOs assigned to Rosie’s parents, Mack and Lesley, Maggie had been asked to read out a victim impact statement on their behalf before the judge considered appropriate jail terms for the accused, who had pleaded guilty at an earlier hearing. What Maggie read to the court was a harrowing and heartbreaking account of a family devastated by a nefarious act of greed; it would take the Kinnocks a very long time to come to terms with what had happened to their child and the entire court was bowed by emotion by the time Maggie finished.

  As she and the rest of the investigating team had hoped, the judge used the maximum sentencing powers gifted to him and afterwards they celebrated at the Viaduct Tavern pub across the road from the court. The crowd included Maggie, Umpire, Renshaw and DC Belmar Small, the other FLO on the case. Conspicuous by his absence was DC Steve Berry, who’d recently quit the police and now worked for a private security firm as head of its CCTV division.

  By her third glass of wine Maggie was drunk. So drunk, in fact, that when Umpire mentioned he wasn’t catching the last train back to Buckinghamshire with the rest of them but instead planned to hail a black cab to his estranged wife’s house in Finchley so he could have breakfast with his kids the next morning, Maggie reacted with unguarded jealousy. Out of earshot of the others she forcibly told him she wasn’t interested in being messed around and he should go back to his wife. That morning, after waking with a clanging hangover, she rang to apologize but her call went through to voicemail and subsequent messages went unreturned. She could’ve kicked herself for the emotional outburst, but the fact Umpire had asked for her now hopefully meant he was no longer as angry as he’d been when he stormed out of the pub to flag down a taxi.

  Ignoring her churning insides, Maggie tried to sound businesslike as she answered DI Gant.

  ‘What do we know about the victim, sir?’

  ‘Hold your horses. Your DCI has cleared you to be the FLO on this but on the understanding you continue with some of your current caseload. I’ve had DS Renshaw on the phone too saying she can’t spare you from the distraction burglaries investigation, so we’ve agreed you’ll do both cases in tandem.’

  ‘Both?’

  ‘Yes, it looks like we’ll have to share you. I did offer someone else from the roster to DCI Umpire as I’m only allowed to deploy one FLO to this case, but he wanted you.’

  ‘But I thought there always had to be two of us?’

  ‘That’s what the guidelines say, but budget cutbacks mean I can’t sanction the use of anyone else right now. Look, I don’t know how long the stabbing victim will be in hospital but you won’t need to be with her all the time and when you’re not with her you’ll carry on with the other case.’

  Gant made it sound easy but Maggie didn’t share his optimism. Could she realistically juggle the two? It wouldn’t be the same as having a few CID cases on the go, with the same senior officer to report to and working out of the same office. She didn’t relish the idea of being split between Umpire and Renshaw, but when she tried to say that, Gant cut her short.

  ‘Don’t be difficult, Maggie. We’ve been shaved to the bone by cutbacks, as you well know. Policing levels are nearly the lowest they’ve been for decades and now there aren’t enough officers to go round. I’ve pretty much lost half my roster because I’m being told my FLOs can’t be taken away from their day jobs.’

  Maggie could hear the frustration in his voice and felt sorry for him. Gant had worked tirelessly in the years she’d known him to reverse the opinion of more cynical colleagues who saw Family Liaison as bringing little more to investigations than tea and sympathy. Policy changes to improve both perception and training were brought about after the murder of London teenager Stephen Lawrence in 1993, when the subsequent Macpherson Report into the Met Police’s handling of the case criticized the Family Liaison allocated to his parents as inadequate. Since then FLOs had been acknowledged as a vital function of policing and at one point Gant’s roster of officers had swelled to more than a hundred. But she knew he wasn’t exaggerating about being hit hard by budget cuts.

  ‘I did read something in the Police Oracle a while back about FLOs on other forces working two or even three cases at a time,’ said Maggie. ‘I didn’t realize it was happening within ours as well.’

  ‘So you know what I’m talking about. Of course it’s better if you’re in pairs so you can prop each other up when it all gets too much, but working alone is something you might have to get used to,’ said Gant glumly. ‘I don’t like it, it’s not how I want to run things, but there’s little I can do.’

  ‘Sir, it’s fine, I can manage both,’ she placated
him. ‘I do have a question though: why is HMET involved if it’s only attempted murder?’

  HMET was the force’s new flagship unit set up to tackle gangland-related crimes and terrorist attacks on UK soil. It had been established under the auspices of Assistant Chief Constable Marcus Bailey and he’d appointed Umpire to head it up. Maggie had been thrilled when Umpire told her: the next time they met for dinner they’d ordered the most expensive bottle of champagne on the menu to toast his promotion.

  ‘ACC Bailey thought it would be a good one for HMET to begin with. The husband’s name is Simon Bramwell and he runs a recruitment agency that sends specialist engineers to work with oil companies in the Middle East. Until we know for sure what went on in that house, ACC Bailey reckons Bramwell’s business connections mean nothing can be ruled out. At the moment he’s under police guard at the Princess Alexandra hospital in Trenton, still unconscious,’ Gant said. ‘So, can you stay put at Mansell hospital until the wife arrives?’

  ‘Of course. What’s her name?’

  ‘Eleanor Bramwell.’

  ‘Can you give me any more details about her?’

  ‘Don’t have any,’ said Gant. ‘You’ll be briefed by DCI Umpire or whoever else comes down from Trenton with her.’

  ‘It might not be him?’ said Maggie, trying not to sound too disappointed.

  ‘I imagine he’ll want to stay at the scene. It might be someone from Trenton CID or even your old partner, DC Small.’

  ‘Belmar?’ exclaimed Maggie. ‘I thought you said I was the only FLO on the case?’

  ‘You are. DC Small is off my roster, as of two weeks ago.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Didn’t you know? He’s joined HMET.’

  Maggie’s jaw dropped. Her and Belmar’s partnering on the Rosie Kinnock case had blossomed into a firm friendship and she now regularly socialized with him and his wife, Allie. He hadn’t breathed a word about quitting when she’d seen him at the Old Bailey yesterday, nor afterwards in the pub.

  ‘He’s no longer a FLO?’

  ‘No, he’s not. Another good officer I can no longer use. At this rate I’ll have to assign myself to cases.’

  Gant chuckled but Maggie didn’t mirror his amusement. Her mind was too busy trying to work out the reason why Belmar hadn’t told her. If anything, Allie not saying anything made Maggie feel worse. She had confided in Belmar’s wife about her conflicted feelings for Umpire and Allie would’ve known what Maggie’s reaction would be to Belmar joining his new unit.

  Whatever Belmar’s reason was for keeping quiet, it had better be good.

  9

  Lou Neville hated doing the afternoon school run. Her fourteen-month-old daughter Mae had recently dropped her morning nap and as a consequence her post-lunch sleep was now longer. Every afternoon Lou was faced with either waking Mae up and carting her to Scotty’s school screaming her head off, or being late for the 3.30 p.m. pick-up and receiving a lecture from his teacher about the importance of timekeeping. Today they were on time but Mae was making her displeasure known by wailing loudly from the confines of her buggy. Ignoring the looks from other parents, Lou plugged a dummy in her daughter’s mouth and prayed she wouldn’t spit it out.

  What irked Lou most was the fact she wouldn’t have to do the school run at all if the head let Scotty walk home on his own like she’d requested. They only lived a few streets away and Scotty was nine now, old enough in Lou’s mind to make the short walk unaccompanied or at least with the other kids who lived on the same road. But the head kept citing safety issues and parental responsibility and eventually Lou gave up asking.

  At least she didn’t have to worry about her eldest child, Jude. Now eleven and in his first year at secondary school, he got himself home every day with no questions asked. Lou had pondered getting him to collect Scotty on his way but their schools were too far apart for him to make it there in good time and three out of five days he was at after-school football practice, which he loved. It seemed unfair to make him give that up just so she had an easier life.

  A gust of wind whipped across the playground and Lou shivered as it hit her full in the face. She re-angled Mae’s buggy so the toddler was shielded from the icy blast then stuffed her own hands deep into her coat pockets. There was a parents’ room in the main school building where they could’ve waited in the warm, but she preferred to stand outside on her own these days. Waiting in the cold was preferable to the faux sympathy and concern she’d receive from the other mums inside.

  None of them really wanted to know how she was doing – it was just an excuse to find out any additional juicy bits from the Rosie Kinnock trial that hadn’t already been published and picked over in newspapers and on the Internet. Lou had told them enough times that she never went to court herself and that it was her ex-husband, Rob, who’d given evidence, not her, but still they asked. As her sister, Maggie, was also involved in the case they assumed Lou must know everything.

  They also assumed – because one of the mouthier mums had said it outright to her – that Lou must’ve known what Rob was up to before it was laid bare in court. Surely she could’ve guessed from his size that he was taking illegal steroids, even if she didn’t know he was dealing them? Lou had lost her temper then, screaming that of course she had no idea, until a teacher intervened and asked her to calm down or she’d have to leave the school grounds.

  The Rosie Kinnock trial had taught Lou one thing though: however devastated she’d been that Rob had left her for another woman, she should count herself lucky he was someone else’s problem now. It was therefore with relief, not regret, that she’d signed their divorce papers two months ago and reverted from his surname, Green, to her maiden name. She wasn’t completely shot of him because he still had access to Mae but yesterday she’d discovered some news about him and Lisa, the woman he’d left her for, that suggested the situation might soon change. At the same time she’d found out that Maggie already knew but hadn’t told her. Furious at her sister, Lou was biding her time until she confronted her about it.

  The bell went to signal the end of the school day and the first class was released like a pack of wild dogs into the playground. Parents surged forward to collect their offspring, taking hold of book bags and water bottles and garish paintings that would probably go straight into the recycling bin when they got home. One of the dads reminded Lou a little bit of her new boyfriend, Arturs, and a shiver of excitement ran through her. Tonight he was taking her out for a drink and – shit, she’d forgotten to check Maggie could still babysit. Scrabbling for her phone, Lou kept an eye on the double doors into the main building in case Scotty’s class was out next.

  ‘Hey, sis, can you talk?’

  ‘What’s up?’ said Maggie.

  ‘Can you still babysit tonight? Remember I asked you last week? I’m off out with Jeannie, one of the school mums.’

  Lou wasn’t stupid. If she was going to lie to Maggie about who she was going out with, it was better to use the name of someone her sister didn’t know. At some point she would tell her about Arturs, but it was still early days and she wanted to enjoy the romance for a bit longer before she held it up to her sister’s scrutiny. Maggie might be the younger sister, by three years, but she acted as though she was the gatekeeper of Lou’s life, vetting anyone who came into it. She’d never liked Rob and had been openly hostile to him at times, so quite how she’d react to Arturs, a Latvian-born builder who’d been in the country for less than a year, Lou could only guess. Maggie certainly wouldn’t be happy that, at twenty-two, he was ten years younger than Lou and she’d also be concerned about the boys being introduced to a new boyfriend when they were still raw from the departure of their stepdad, Rob, who they both adored. Concerns that, if Lou was being honest, she also shared.

  ‘Oh God, I’d forgotten all about it. I’m so sorry, Lou, but I don’t think I can. I’ve got two big cases on the go, and I’m at the hospital right now waiting to interview a relative on one case and a victim on anot
her. I could be hours.’ Maggie spoke in a rush, the way she always did when she was coming up with an excuse.

  ‘Oh for fuck’s sake,’ said Lou, not caring who overheard her. ‘I asked you last week.’

  ‘I’m really sorry, sis. I forgot.’

  ‘What am I meant to do? I don’t want to cancel.’

  ‘Maybe your friend could come round to yours instead? Get a bottle of wine and a takeaway?’

  ‘But I want to go out. I never get the chance any more,’ said Lou.

  She wasn’t exaggerating. She had been twenty when she’d had Jude, his birth coming only five months after his dad, Jerome, her then fiancé, was killed in a road traffic accident. She was still a single mum when Scotty was born just over two years later: his dad, Carl, had been one of Jerome’s old school friends and he’d done a runner the day after she’d peed on the stick and the two lines came up. She hadn’t heard from him since.

  Rob had been her salvation, coming into her life when she was twenty-seven. He’d been happy to take on the role of doting dad to the two boys and Mae’s arrival had completed their happy family – until Lisa came along. Now Lou was on her own again and sometimes it was simply too much to cope with. She was only thirty-two and she wanted to have some fun. She deserved it after everything she’d been through.

  ‘I know you don’t,’ said Maggie, ‘but there’s really nothing I can do tonight. Maybe your friend could rearrange for another evening and I’ll make sure I’m definitely free?’

  Lou swore again and hung up. She was about to ring Arturs to break the bad news when Scotty’s class spilled out into the playground. Stepping forward to greet her middle child, a thought popped into her head. There was someone else she could ask to babysit. Someone she’d never considered before, but who she trusted just as much as Maggie. Someone who wouldn’t let her down. As Scotty tossed her his book bag and started rifling in the basket beneath Mae’s buggy looking for snacks, Lou broke into a smile.