Thirty Eight
In the office Chris dialled the temporary number that Kate was using.
‘Chris,’ she said. She sounded tired. ‘How’re you doing?’
‘Where’s your phone?’ he asked. ‘You’ve been a nightmare to get hold of.’ He’d tried it a few times before asking Clayton where she was supposed to be that day and why he hadn’t been able to get hold of her. Clayton had told him about the lost phone and passed on the new number.
‘Lost it,’ Kate explained briefly. ‘Anyway, what’s up?’
‘Never mind me for a minute,’ he said. ‘You sound exhausted.’
‘We found Stacey Reed,’ she told him, the secret pride she had felt for the slightest of moments earlier no longer evident in her voice. ‘She was in Nathan Williams’ cousin’s attic.’
‘I heard,’ Chris said. ‘News travels fast in this place.’
Clayton had already told Chris of the day’s success. It was rare for the Superintendent to openly praise any member of the team, but he was genuinely impressed by Kate’s work and had told Chris so. He didn’t acknowledge the fact that Stacey could have been found days earlier if he’d been prepared to listen to Kate’s suspicions about the family, but then again, Chris wouldn’t have expected him to. It was difficult for anyone to admit when they’d been wrong, but for Clayton it seemed beyond the realms of possibility, no matter what the circumstances.
Kate pressed her head tiredly on the steering wheel. ‘Doesn’t it just,’ she said. ‘Bastards. I knew they were lying. Has Dawn Reed been released?’
‘Yeah. Someone’s taken her down to the hospital to see Stacey.’
Kate managed a smile. ‘Good.’
Regardless of her earlier suspicions about Dawn Reed, Kate was glad that mother and daughter had been reunited. If Dean was right when he’d said that Dawn was used by Nathan, hopefully she would realise and begin to put Stacey as her priority.
‘What about Ben Davies?’ Chris asked.
‘At his aunt’s house in Newport,’ Kate told him derisively. ‘Didn’t think to tell anyone, obviously.’
‘Kids,’ Chris said.
Claire’s words resonated. He’s already tried to kill me once.
‘Yeah,’ Kate said. ‘Kids.’ She contemplated telling him everything, but decided against it. Now wasn’t the right time. She needed to work things out for herself before sharing it with anyone else.
‘At least he was safe,’ Chris said. ‘Well done, you.’
Kate managed a weak smile but said nothing. She didn’t deserve congratulations, particularly not from Chris. If he knew what she had been doing when she hadn’t been searching for missing children, she was sure he wouldn’t be quite so quick to praise her.
‘Has anyone tried calling for me, do you know?’
‘No, don’t think so. Who’re you expecting?’
A weight of disappointment sank in Kate’s stomach. ‘No one,’ she lied.
‘Listen,’ Chris said. ‘You still in the building?’
‘I’m in the car park.’
‘Just leaving?’
‘Just coming back.’
‘Christ,’ he said, confused by her movements. ‘Can you do me a favour? I’ll make it worth your while.’
‘Oooh,’ Kate said, trying her best to sound light hearted. ‘Take away? Make it an Indian and you’re on.’
She wondered if her bantering disguised the turmoil taking place inside her. She knew she would have to tell Chris everything sooner or later and the thought of that conversation made her feel physically sick. The recriminations; the accusations: the guilt. She hoped it could wait until later; preferably, as late as possible.
‘Deal,’ Chris agreed. ‘By the way, Kate, you know Neil Davies pretty well, yeah?’
Kate sat up suddenly, catching her head on the lowered sun visor. Her heart pounded painfully in her chest.
‘Kate? You still there?’
‘Yeah,’ she said. ‘I’m still here.’ She raised a hand to her head and pressed her temple gently. The migraine was getting worse and even the dim light of the February early evening was hurting her eyes.
‘Can you come up?’ Chris asked.
Kate looked at the clock on the dashboard. She should have been home long ago, tucked up on the sofa with a mug of tea and an episode of Eastenders but, she thought, that might only add to the miseries of the day.
‘Give me five minutes,’ she said.
Thirty Nine
It was time to confess. Kate took the stairs rather than the lift. It gave her a bit more of a delay; enough time to consider how she was going to explain to Chris her lunch appointment and pub date with a missing boy’s father. She could just not tell him, she thought; perhaps it would be better kept until Ben had been returned to his foster parents and the buzz at the station over Stacey Reed had died down. Maybe she should wait until Chris had finished with the cases he was working, but then how long would that take?
Anyway, he’d asked about Neil Davies, and that meant she wouldn’t be able to delay it any longer. She was going to have to tell him, and tell him everything; she told Chris most things and he would read her like an open book anyway. It was bound to come out sooner or later. To someone who knew her as well as Chris did, surely she had guilt tattooed on her forehead.
He was waiting for her in his office. He seemed uneasy, perched awkwardly on the edge of a desk and distractedly cracking his knuckles; a habit he had always had and one of the few things about him that irritated Kate.
‘I really wish you wouldn’t do that.’
He looked up and smiled as Kate walked in. He gestured towards a chair opposite. ‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘Force of habit.’
There was no denying that the stress of recent weeks had taken its toll on Kate. Her blonde hair was dull and there were grey patches under her eyes. Her skin looked sallow and there was a sadness surrounding her, despite the fact that both Stacey Reed and Ben Davies had been found alive. She may not have given up on those children, but she seemed to have given up on herself.
Chris noticed it immediately.
‘Sit down before you fall down,’ Chris advised her.
‘There’s something I have to tell you,’ she said quickly, not allowing herself time to change her mind. She would have to tell him now and she would have to tell him fully. If she put it off she would never do it and he would hear it all from someone else. If that happened, he may think even worse of her. Other people’s version of events seemed rarely to be reliable sources.
Chris looked at her with cold brown eyes, his lips pressed together tightly. ‘Sounds ominous,’ he said, as though expecting the worst. ‘Go on.’
And so she talked. Kate talked and, as always, Chris listened attentively, absorbing every word and detail and doing his best not to react to the things that were said. He tried his best to hide his disapproval when Kate told him about the mobile number that had been passed across the desk when they had first met. When she confessed that she and Neil had met for lunch he shook his head, sighed and looked away.
A dejected expression crossed his face, but Kate wasn’t sure what had upset him most. She couldn’t tell whether he was hurt by the fact that she had once again put her professionalism into jeopardy, or by the fact that she had been for lunch with this man. Did she want him to feel something about it? What? Jealously?
What hurt her most was that Chris didn’t seem at all shocked at her stupid behaviour.
‘Christ, Kate,’ Chris said, standing and crossing the room. ‘Imagine if Clayton found out. That’d go down really bloody well.’
She shook her head and looked down at her lap. ‘Crazy, I know,’ she scorned herself.
Chris stood with his back to her. He looked out of the window at the car park below, watching a young couple get out of a taxi. They were holding hands and laughing, young and carefree. Chris envied them their youth and their happiness.
‘Why did you go?’ he asked.
‘Where?’
Kate shrugged. ‘I don’t know,’ she admitted, although she was pretty sure she knew exactly why. She looked at Chris’ back; at his broad, strong shoulders and resilient exterior. No one would suspect he was so sensitive. She paused before taking a deep breath.
‘There was last night as well…’
Chris turned slowly and apprehensively, wondering what the hell was coming next.
‘Last night?’ he repeated, studying her with expectant eyes.
‘It wasn’t like that,’ Kate said quickly. ‘Nothing happened.’
‘But you saw him?’
‘Yeah, I saw him.’
Chris shook his head again and began pacing the room like a goaded bull. There was a difficult silence before he stopped and said ‘well?’ prompting Kate to continue.
‘I met him for a drink,’ she confessed, hanging her head, feeling like a reprimanded teenager.
‘You know,’ Chris said sharply, stopping for a moment, ‘sometimes it’s almost as if you want to lose your job.’
The hurt was gone; in its place was a look of disbelief.
Kate said nothing. Sometimes she wondered if losing her job wouldn’t be such a bad idea. It would certainly make her life a lot less stressful.
Chris knew that the suggestion wasn’t the case, no matter how much she grumbled and how often she complained; he knew better than anyone that Kate was more committed to the job than most. She would be lost without it and without the focus it gave her.
‘When you bugger things up, it’s always for the same reason,’ Chris said quietly.
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ Kate asked defensively. She looked up at him and pursed her lips, willing herself not to get upset.
‘Nothing,’ Chris said, trying to quickly backtrack. ‘Forget it.’ He moved away from her again and went back to the window, refusing to meet her eye.
Kate got up from her seat. ‘No, I won’t forget it,’ she said argumentatively. ‘Is that what you think? That my judgement’s all wrong?’
‘Isn’t it?’ Chris said, turning back to her. ‘Isn’t it always about your brother?’
They stood facing each other. Kate’s eyes narrowed, as they always did when she was feeling attacked or undermined. Chris stood his ground. He didn’t want to upset her, but they had spent too long skirting around the subject. There were always half-finished sentences; thoughts that were shared in part then swept away as though they could be ignored and forgotten.
It wasn’t just on Kate’s part either.
The sooner she faced up to the truth the better for both of them.
‘What would happen if you found him?’ Chris asked, knowing he was pushing the boundaries, though it was about time he did so. He hadn’t helped her all these years by offering sympathy and comfort. What she needed was someone to tell her the truth. Her brother was probably dead.
‘After all this time, you find him,’ Chris said, pushing aside thoughts of the alternative. ‘What then?’
‘Why are you doing this?’
‘I’m not trying to hurt you,’ Chris explained, feeling the sadness in her voice. ‘I just want to know what you’d do. Would that be it? Job done? Chuck it all up in the air?’
They both knew the answer. Kate had joined the police with what she now knew to be a foolish idea that it would help her find her brother; when that was done, there would be nothing left to keep her. Everyone had stopped looking. Someone had to carry on. She didn’t want to be the one doing the seeking. She never had. She couldn’t tell Chris what he obviously wanted to hear: that she wouldn’t give everything up should she find him.
Was it so important to him that she stay?
‘What are the chances anyway?’ Kate said, avoiding his questions. She heard the shakiness in her own voice and resented every trembled syllable. Why hadn’t Andrew Langley got back to her? ‘Like you say – after all this time. No one really thinks I’ll find him. Not now. Not ever.’
She turned and sat back at the desk. ‘Not even you,’ she added.
Chris moved behind her and placed a strong hand on her shoulder. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said. He resisted the urge to raise his hand and run it through her hair.
‘Don’t be,’ she responded.
‘I just don’t want to see you disappointed. And I don’t want anything to happen to you. I don’t want to see you cracking up.’
Kate didn’t look up or turn her head. On her shoulder, his hand moved slowly, squeezing slightly, not wanting to let her go.
‘I just wasn’t thinking,’ Kate said regretfully.
‘You can’t afford not to think in this job,’ Chris told her. ‘You could put yourself in danger.’
He thought of the CCTV footage he had seen earlier and hoped his assumptions were wrong.
Kate tutted. ‘This job,’ she repeated. ‘This job. That’s all it’s about, isn’t it? This bloody job. Where does the job end and my life begin?’
‘Easy,’ Chris said lightly. ‘You keep them separate. Don’t take it home with you.’
Even as he said it, he realised how hypocritical that was. There was nothing separate about his work and his private life. If anything, the latter barely existed. Here he was, telling Kate to keep the two things separate, when he was unable to do that very thing himself. Wasn’t that the very reason why his marriage had fallen apart?
‘I can’t explain it,’ Kate tried to continue. ‘Neil made me feel…I don’t know…important. He made me feel confident again.’ She chewed distractedly at the dry skin on her top lip. ‘There was something else,’ she admitted, ‘something about him. I can’t put my finger on it.’
Chris sighed. ‘Jesus, for an intelligent woman you can be incredibly naïve,’ he said. Although his voice was soft, his words bit.
‘Thanks for that,’ she said, although she couldn’t object: she knew that he was right. Chris was right quite a lot of the time.
‘You fancied him then?’ Chris asked suddenly, taking his hand from her shoulder. He’d held back on asking the question, but he couldn’t help himself. That’s more or less what she was admitting, wasn’t it? He turned away from her again, not really wanting to hear the answer; not wanting her to see his face.
‘That’s just it - I don’t know,’ Kate replied defensively. She felt her face begin to colour and raised a hand to her cheek. ‘It wasn’t like that. It wasn’t the way you’re thinking. I was just drawn to him. I can’t say how or why.’
‘No,’ Chris said bluntly. ‘Maybe not.’
There was an awkward silence for a moment. Chris crossed the room and looked out of the window again, as Kate picked at her chewed nails.
‘He knew where his son was the whole time,’ Kate told him.
Chris turned from the window and leaned back against the sill.
‘Sorry?’ he said, his thoughts wandering.
‘He took his son to his sister-in-law’s in Newport. He actually took the boy there himself then got her to lie to police. Why would he do that?’ she pondered. ‘Why would he behave as though his son was missing? Why would he have the boy’s foster parents worry about him like that?’
‘I don’t know,’ Chris admitted, ‘but I already know you can’t trust him, Kate.’
Kate felt the flush in face turn pale. There was something insistent in Chris’ tone and his face said far more than his words.
‘What do you mean? Why the sudden interest in Neil Davies?’ she asked quietly, not sure that she wanted to know the answer.
Chris stood up. ‘Come next door and I’ll show you,’ he said.
Forty
In the next room, they joined PC Matthew Curtis who sat at a desk watching a TV screen. Kate had come into contact with Matthew quite a few times; he had been working with Chris for almost a year now. Enthusiastic, Kate recalled; also, squeamish. She thought of a few days earlier, when she’d watched him idly battling with the coffee machine in the corridor outside her office. There was something about
him that didn’t seem to gel; he was there in person, but his mind always seemed to be somewhere else, distracted; a daydreamer.
Matthew caught her eye when she entered the room, but quickly looked away. He didn’t look at her again, keeping his head low and his attention fixed on the television screen in front of him. For the second time since they’d first met she wondered whether he was avoiding her, or whether he was simply socially inadequate in some way. Hardly the best characteristic for a police officer, Kate thought.
Kate looked at the TV and the CCTV footage that played out on the screen. She was unsure at first what she was supposed to be looking at. A string of dancers moved in and out of shot, intermingling with men who were happily parting with their money in return for a brief snatch of something that remained always out of their reach.
‘Little bit disconcerting,’ Kate joked, ‘watching strippers with you pair.’
Matthew smiled nervously and gave her a coy, sideways glance before turning his attention back to the screen. Kate was certain he had blushed slightly.
Kate leaned across the desk and put a finger on the screen. ‘Is that not…?’
‘Joseph Ryan,’ Chris confirmed.
‘The body in the park?’
‘The very same.’
Kate continued to watch, unsure why Chris had brought her into the room to see this. She had had enough for one day and wasn’t sure how much more hassle she needed. She shuddered at the thought of the Joseph Ryan murder. It had been brutal and seemingly motiveless. There were a few hairs found on Ryan’s scarf, but no DNA match had turned up and they had nothing else: no eyewitnesses, no forensics of any use; bugger all.
Kate knew he’d been unfaithful to his wife, on a continual basis judging by the brief snippets of information Chris had given her, but so far they had been unable to find evidence of any jealous boyfriends or husbands; anyone who may have had a motive for wanting Ryan dead.
The tape continued to roll. Joseph Ryan went back to the bar, bought another drink and disappeared from view again.
Ready or Not Page 20
