by Sarah Hilary
‘Thanks for coming at stupid o’clock.’
‘It was my turn.’ He looked around. ‘Great place. If I want coffee, do I order at the bar?’
‘It’s coming.’ She smiled. ‘You can sit down.’
He shrugged off his coat, putting it over the back of his chair. Grey suit, white shirt, no tie. He rubbed a hand at his head, bright-eyed from the cold start. ‘How’s Welland, have you heard?’
‘He’s going into hospital next week.’
‘Let’s hope for good news.’
‘Yes.’ She waited while Kim brought the coffee. ‘Milk?’
‘Thanks, just a splash . . .’ He took the cup from her, wrapping his lean fingers around it. ‘This smells good.’
‘Tastes better.’
They shared a moment of silence.
‘Tobias Midori,’ Marnie said then. ‘Has he given you anything more about why he took the shoebox from Lancaster Road?’
‘We’re interviewing him this morning. Zoe’ll be the appropriate adult.’
‘Any news from the hospital about Alan and Louise?’ That should have been her first question, after he’d asked about Welland. ‘I’ve not had the chance to visit them myself.’
‘They’re getting better, but still not ready for questions. I’m thinking we crack Tobias, we get the gang. They left enough DNA to make the rest of it easy.’ He gestured contritely. ‘When I say “crack Tobias” I am of course talking about the sensitive handling of a nine-year-old by a trained professional. Zoe’s got the gift with these kids. They trust her. They talk to her.’
‘I have questions I need to ask Tobias,’ Marnie said. ‘I’m happy for Zoe to ask them, but if there’s a chance I could sit in . . .’
He studied her face before saying as Noah had last night, ‘Something’s happened. Are you able to tell me what?’
‘I need to tell you. It has implications for your case . . . More coffee?’
They waited while Kim refreshed their cups. Kennedy betrayed no trace of impatience. Zoe might have the gift with kids, but Harry wasn’t without talent of his own when it came to winning trust.
‘I was in Cloverton yesterday,’ she told him. ‘Speaking with an inmate, Aidan Duffy. He’s keen for me to see a connection between the break-in at Lancaster Road and the vigilante assaults we’re investigating.’
‘Why?’ He frowned. ‘And how?’
‘A couple of caveats. Aidan Duffy’s a con man. We need to take everything he says with a large dose of salt. And he’s sharing a cell with Stephen Keele. So . . . that’s salt enough to grit the M6.’
‘They’re playing you,’ he deduced. ‘Are they?’
‘It’s a strong possibility.’
Harry rubbed at his head again, more slowly this time. ‘I can guess at Keele’s game. But this con man— What did you say his name was?’
‘Aidan Duffy.’
‘Aidan Duffy. What’s he after?’
‘He has a ten-year-old son. Finn. He says Finn’s being held hostage by the people responsible for the break-in at Lancaster Road.’
‘And these are the same people behind the vigilante assaults?’
‘According to Aidan. He knows names, dates. Details I can’t ignore. And his son’s missing. So you see my problem.’
‘You’re screwed.’ He scratched his eyebrow. ‘Sorry, that’s unhelpful. I meant—’
‘No, you’re right. Thank you.’ She was relieved. ‘I didn’t want to waste time dancing around what’s at stake. Finn’s missing and Aidan knows too much about what we’re both investigating for it to be guesswork. He knew about the shoebox.’
She hadn’t shared this detail with DCS Ferguson. Harry was the first person to hear it.
He drank a mouthful of coffee before asking, ‘What exactly does he know?’
‘That it was taken from Lancaster Road, and what’s inside. The charm bracelet. You saw it?’ He nodded. ‘There was a horseshoe.’ She held up her hand, making the shape of the charm with her thumb and index finger. ‘Aidan wants me to believe that’s what our vigilantes have been writing on the newspaper clippings sent to the victims. I don’t mean Rawling or the rest. The original victims, the ones our vigilantes are avenging. We thought it was a copyright symbol or a gang sign, but Aidan says it’s a horseshoe. He arranged for someone to carve it into the shoulder of a friend of his in Cloverton, Jacob Collins. It looked like the work of our vigilantes, so I got a call. Duffy says he set Collins up because he needed to get me to the prison.’
‘He had his friend attacked? Nice. What does he do to his enemies?’
‘I’m not in a hurry to find out,’ Marnie agreed.
‘His son.’ Harry frowned. ‘Finn Duffy?’
‘You know him?’ She hadn’t expected this.
‘The name’s familiar. Is he local? I’m assuming he’s in Greater London.’
‘Camden. We think he knows Ollie Tomlinson, who’s also missing and allegedly connected to our vigilantes. Certainly connected to one of the victims, Carole Linton.’
‘Damn.’ Harry rolled his neck, holding it in the crook of his hand. ‘Okay. Where d’you want to start? With Tobias?’
‘I want to find Finn, and whoever killed Kyle Stratton.’ She set her cup back in its saucer. ‘Whether I’ll be allowed to stay with the investigation’s another matter.’
‘You’re the best detective they have. Ferguson’s a fool if she thinks otherwise—’ He stopped, still holding his neck, the skin flushed under his eyes. ‘That came out stalkerish, but so you know? Toby Graves is a mate of mine.’
Toby Graves was a hostage negotiator. Marnie had worked with him more than once. The last time had involved the rescue of two frightened teenagers from a site near Battersea Power Station. It felt like a lifetime ago, but it was less than nine months.
‘Toby’s a fan,’ Harry said. ‘So you know.’
Marnie’s smile was reflexive. ‘Aidan said the same about our vigilante. It’s why I’ll be taken off the case. Because someone out there thinks it’s fun to have my attention, and this is the way to get it. By attacking people. Breaking bones. Killing.’
She’d been afraid of Ed’s reaction to this part of the story she’d been spun at Cloverton. The stunned look on Harry’s face was a clue, and he hardly knew her.
‘It was bad enough,’ she said, ‘being reminded how it felt to be a victim, back inside that house – but the shoebox? That’s when I knew it was personal. I’d half-suspected it, seeing the mess in there and knowing they’d been in the attic. When you brought me that box, I knew—’
She straightened, sitting back from the table. ‘So, yes, Aidan’s a con man. And he may well be playing me. But whether he is or he isn’t, I won’t be on the case to find out. I won’t be rescuing his son, or arresting Kyle’s killer. Ferguson may even put me on special leave.’
Harry let his breath out, looking at her for a long minute. ‘How much of this does she know? Ferguson. What’ve you told her?’
‘All of it, except the shoebox. I said I think a lot of it’s fantasy spun by Aidan, with or without Stephen’s help. But I let her have the lot.’ She touched her fingers to the empty cup on the table. ‘Can’t have detectives withholding evidence, that would signal the end of days.’
Like hers, his smile was reflexive. ‘If she has any sense, she’ll keep you on the case.’ His eyes were dark. ‘How else’s she going to solve it?’
‘My team’s good. DS Jake’s one of the best detectives I’ve worked with.’
‘If this’s about you,’ Harry said tightly, ‘then you need to be on the case. And if it’s a wind-up? You definitely need to be on the case.’
It sounded simple when he said it, but it wasn’t.
For one thing, if Aidan was telling the truth, there wouldn’t be a case but for her.
Harry moved his hand, stopping short of touching her wrist. ‘Tell me the questions you want to ask Tobias.’
‘I need to know who told him to steal the shoebox. Where he found it, how he knew w
here to find it. If he tells us who gave the gang their instructions, we’ll be a step closer to finding Finn.’
‘Let me speak with Zoe and confirm the timing of the interview. What else can I do?’
‘That’s it, for now. But thanks. I needed to talk this through with someone who wasn’t DCS Ferguson.’ Marnie checked her watch. ‘I should get to work. You too.’
They stood, pulling on their coats.
Harry took out his wallet, but she shook her head. ‘I’ve got this.’
Outside the café, Harry turned up the collar of his coat.
‘Drop you at the tube?’ Marnie offered.
‘Thanks, but I’ll walk. Need to process the caffeine . . .’ He buried his hands in his pockets. ‘What does DS Jake make of all this?’
‘I haven’t told him yet. He spent the night in the Whittington after a close encounter with a baseball bat.’
Harry lost the smile. ‘But he’s okay?’
‘He’s okay.’
‘He asked me about his brother. Sol, is it?’
‘Sol’s safe,’ Marnie said. ‘I’m not so sure about the gang he was running with, or from. Any help you can give would be appreciated, I know. Noah’s out of hospital this morning. I told him to stay home for the day.’
‘I’ll check in with him later.’ Harry narrowed his eyes at the road then looked at her. ‘Someone’s really gunning for your team.’
‘That’s how it feels, yes.’
‘You’re staying safe, though.’ It wasn’t a question, but he was concerned.
She nodded. ‘No more solo patrols. Tricky, with resources the way they are, but I’m not taking any risks, especially after Aidan’s story. Fantasy or otherwise, we know there’s a killer out there.’
A killer, and a ten-year-old boy. She had to head off that collision, one way or another. Having blood on her hands was part of being a detective, but this was different, this felt as if—
Finn had crawled inside her to hide. She felt him as a physical pain, a thing she’d swallowed. A stone fed to her by his father. Along with a pack of lies, she was sure of that, but Aidan had needed her to feel this pain – his pain – for Finn.
Tied with duct tape, locked in a stranger’s house.
Afraid for his life.
She had to find Finn and make him safe.
Whatever else happened, she had to do that.
41
DCS Ferguson was wearing her red shirt, red lipstick, killer heels. She’d wheeled in a new evidence board, parking it alongside the existing ones.
Marnie stripped off her gloves. ‘Good morning.’
Ferguson gave a nod but otherwise ignored her. She’d cleaned the new board with hairspray, getting rid of every last mark from the old case scribbled there.
What was it Welland had said? ‘She favours a frigate, type twenty-three . . . They call her H.M.S. Dauntless.’ And Marnie had pointed out that Dauntless wasn’t a frigate, it was a destroyer.
‘We’re a team short.’ She was lining up marker pens.
‘They’ll be here,’ Marnie said. ‘I’ve told DS Jake to take a day to recover. He’s certain it was Ollie who attacked him. Given where it happened, I’m wondering if we’ve overlooked the obvious.’
She walked to the new board, which was gleaming so fiercely she could see her face in it. Picking up one of Ferguson’s new pens, she wrote a capital letter C.
‘For Carole. Linton.’ She capped the pen and put it down. ‘Noah was attacked at Carole’s flat. We know she controlled Ollie once before. He isn’t smart enough to have masterminded all this mayhem, but perhaps he’s part of it. Because Carole needs him to be.’
‘You’ve been doing a lot of thinking.’ Ferguson appraised her. ‘Did you sleep at all?’
‘Very well, in fact.’ She smiled. ‘Here’s the team.’
Ferguson swivelled on her heel as Ron and the others came in, shedding their coats before gathering around the evidence boards, looking alert.
‘How’s Noah?’ Debbie asked.
‘Much better. I spoke with the Whittington an hour ago. They’re discharging him. He’s staying home today, but we should have him back with us tomorrow.’ Marnie paused, to give Ferguson the chance to take command, but the woman just nodded at her to continue. ‘We have a new priority. Finian Paul Duffy.’ She pinned Finn’s photo to the board. A good-looking boy, as handsome as his father, with cropped black curls and soft grey eyes. ‘Finn. He’s ten years old. We think he went missing from the Jonas House estate ten weeks ago.’
‘We think?’ Ron echoed.
‘There’s some confusion in the family as to exactly how long he’s been missing. I’ll make the calls needed to clear that up. Finn goes to the same school as Ollie. They may be friends. We’re getting a warrant to search Carole’s flat.’
‘So that’s . . . four missing persons?’ Ron grumbled. ‘Ollie and his mum. Carole. And now Finn Duffy. Why’s he our priority and not Misper’s? Sorry, boss, but haven’t we got a murder to solve?’
‘That’s a good question,’ Ferguson said coolly. ‘DI Rome?’
‘We’ve been given information to suggest Finn’s disappearance is connected to Kyle’s murder.’
Marnie waited until the room was quiet, all eyes on her. Ferguson was watching too. Waiting for her to get this right, or wrong.
‘The source of the information is problematic, so we’re going to proceed with caution. I’ll be working with DCS Ferguson to establish a baseline going forward.’ Using the woman’s own words, a trick she’d learnt from Welland. ‘That’s what the new board’s for.’
She nodded at the team. ‘This is a ten-year-old. If we can find any one of our missing persons, great. If we can find Finn quickly, even better. But let’s not get distracted from what we already know. DC Pitcher, anything from Forensics on the evidence found in Ollie’s flat?’
‘I’m chasing them this morning,’ Colin said. ‘And for the handwriting analysis on the envelopes and clippings.’
‘What about our new victim?’ Ron asked. ‘From Cloverton.’
Ferguson nodded. ‘DI Rome?’
‘Jacob Collins is part of the baseline we’ll be establishing. For now, we’re keeping him to one side of this.’ She took a step back. ‘You may have something to add, ma’am?’
All eyes in the room shifted to Ferguson. ‘You heard DI Rome.’ She gave a red smile. ‘Lots to do. Let’s make a start.’
‘Aidan Duffy asked you to arrest him.’ Ferguson closed the door to Welland’s office, nodding Marnie at a chair. ‘Why didn’t you?’
‘No grounds.’ She sat. ‘He was nowhere near Jacob Collins when he was attacked. Aidan should have got his hands dirty, then I’d have been able to make an arrest.’
‘So he’s still sharing a cell with Stephen Keele.’
‘As far as I know.’
Ferguson eyed her. ‘And you still think the larger part of what he told you is misdirection?’
‘Or fantasy. Yes, I do. He wants us to find his son. He’s clever enough to realise that making me feel guilty is a great way of incentivising that outcome.’
‘I’d like to interview him, all the same.’ Ferguson opened her MacBook. ‘You said he knew details of the assaults on Rawling and the rest.’
Marnie didn’t dispute it. ‘Someone feeding him information, that’s clear.’
‘And that someone might be our killer. Right. Fix up an interview at Cloverton. You and I can ask awkward questions, see how far his Irish charm gets him.’ She glanced up. ‘Why don’t we see Stephen Keele while we’re at it? Divide and rule. I’d like him in a separate cell afterwards. Or bunked with someone less indulgent of his charms.’
‘You don’t think giving the pair of them our attention is exactly what they’re after?’
‘Oh I don’t think Keele’s ever had to work very hard for your attention. Has he?’
Marnie’s smile was involuntary, her only defence against the woman’s new angle of attack. ‘Are you planning to
put me on special leave? Ma’am?’
‘Not a chance of that. So long as you’re not showing any signs of cracking up, I need you here for the head count.’ She frowned at her MacBook, nodding a dismissal. ‘Let me know when DS Jake’s back at his desk. We’re thin enough as it is, given the shambles we’re trying to sort out.’
She didn’t look up, clicking her tongue at whatever she was seeing onscreen. ‘I didn’t think I’d be saying this so soon, but I’m missing my neck of the woods. Up the Curry Mile they just brick or bottle you. You’ve introduced me to a whole new level of scumbag. Congratulations.’
Noah was eating toast when his phone rang. Sol, calling on the number Marnie had put into his phone at the hospital last night. ‘Hey, Sol.’
‘It’s me.’
‘I know.’ Noah smiled at Dan, who’d come through from the kitchen and was frowning at the interruption to his bed-rest regime. ‘Hey, Sol.’
‘You okay?’ His brother sounded nervous. ‘They let you out, yeah?’
‘I’m fine. I’m home.’ Noah reached for Dan’s hand, pulling him down onto the sofa next to him. His ribs twinged, but not much. His headache was clearing. ‘Dan says Hi.’
‘Yeah?’ More than nervous. ‘He’s okay?’
‘We’re both good.’ Noah put his free hand in Dan’s fringe. ‘How about you?’
‘For real? I’m freaking out.’ He heard Sol switch the phone to his other hand. ‘This’s fuckery.’
‘Where are you?’
‘Your boss’s place. She told you, yeah?’
‘So you’re safe.’ But Noah let go of Dan and sat forward, unnerved by the fright in his brother’s voice. ‘Sol? You’re safe?’
A beat before, ‘He’s been out there hours. Like hours—’
‘Who?’
‘This is fuckery, man.’ He sounded as if he were pacing. ‘You gotta tell her.’
‘Tell who? Sol, what’s going on?’
‘Your boss. Someone’s outside her place right now. Been there hours. In his car, just watching the place, he’s watching—’
‘You recognise him?’ Noah stood. ‘You need to give me a name. I know you don’t want to, this is gang stuff and you think you have to deal with it on your own, but you don’t. You can’t.’ He touched his knuckles to the bruise left by the baseball bat. ‘Give me a name. Let me help.’
