by Mari Hannah
‘Oh, and where have I heard that before?’ She looked away. At various points in the bar, old rifles were displayed on the walls, secured by heavy brass brackets. Shame they were only for show. Right now, Kate could use one. She eyeballed the angry man. ‘You want to lose Beth altogether? Keep it up. You might get your wish. Does Diane know? Because if she doesn’t, she sure as hell should.’
‘Stay out of my business.’
‘She has a right to know.’
‘I said—’
‘Fine!’ Kate moved away.
‘Where you going?’ Atkins stuck a hand out, grabbing her arm until it started to hurt. He was smiling at her. ‘Don’t be like that, Kate. I thought we might kiss and make up. I know you’re on the other bus, but maybe I could show you what you’ve been missing all these years.’
Shrugging him off, Kate slid along the counter. She held up ID to the barman. ‘You serve him any more alcohol today and I’ll have your licence. Understood?’ The landlord nodded, relieved to have an excuse to refuse him and get him off his premises.
‘Sling your hook!’ Atkins yelled. ‘And make sure you nail that bastard Collins! You can tell him from me, if he goes near my daughter again I’ll swing for him.’
An unfortunate choice of words.
The venomous way in which they were delivered made Kate’s blood run cold. He was drunk – undoubtedly – but not enough to forget that threats to kill could land him in trouble. A twinge of suspicion began to form in her head, burrowing deep inside her investigative brain. She held his gaze, her thoughts all over the place. She’d assumed his eagerness to sign on early and get his foot in the door of MIT was motivated by spite, designed to get back at her. Could there possibly be another reason? Was he out to pin a murder on Collins, a lad he despised openly and fingered for the crime early on? He’d yet to explain how that came about. Or was she the one stretching it – projecting her hatred back at him? Dismissing the theory as too far-fetched, she blew out her cheeks as she walked away. Tiredness did strange things to people.
46
Turning into the hospital grounds, Kate parked in almost the same location she’d left less than two hours ago. Angered by her encounter with Atkins, she’d grabbed a sandwich in Morpeth and found a peaceful spot, halfway to Ashington, so she could eat it in peace, surrounded by open countryside – guaranteed to take her blood pressure down.
Hank would be jealous.
Kate finished her lunch. Relaxing into the headrest a moment, she shut her eyes, mulling over her suppositions in the pub and discussion with Naylor earlier. His concerns for Beth’s future financial security were valid – of course they were – but what of her physical security? Had he thought about that? Deep down Kate knew that someone needed to put a stop to Atkins’ violent conduct once and for all. If she didn’t report him, who would? If Hank ever found out that he’d manhandled her there would be hell to pay.
Getting out of the car, Kate strode purposefully towards the main entrance of the hospital. She’d almost reached it when her mobile rang. She lifted it to her ear. ‘Hank, I’m trying to be in three places at once and I’m running late in two of them. Is it important?’
‘You sound out of breath.’
‘As I said, I’m in a hurry.’
‘To see Beth?’
‘How the hell—’
‘Atkins just gave me a mouthful over the phone – most of it incomprehensible – I gather you guys had words. It didn’t sound like he’d given you the lickings of a dog. You OK?’ He didn’t wait for an answer. He’d have come to the conclusion that if she was talking, she was still breathing. ‘Hold on a sec . . .’ He paused to talk to someone in the office.
Kate could hear Andy Brown’s steady voice in the background.
Moments later, Hank returned. ‘So,’ he said. ‘I’m guessing you’re doing what you always do?’
‘What’s that then?’
‘Making your life difficult when there’s no need. You didn’t ask his permission to see Beth, did you?’
Intuitive.
‘You know me, Hank. Never ask a question you don’t want the answer to.’ She stepped through automatic doors, pulling up sharp behind an elderly couple. They had come to a sudden stop in front of her, eyes raised to scan the information boards. ‘What did Atkins want?’
‘I’ve no bloody idea – I wasn’t listening. Your name came up though and the air turned blue.’
‘Figures.’ Mounting the stairs, she detected a faint whiff of nicotine. She felt sorry for those forced to freeze their bits off outside, even though a smoking ban was eminently sensible. ‘What did Andy want?’
‘There’s nothing wrong with your ears then?’
‘Cut the sarcasm, Hank. Enlighten me.’
‘Our boy, Chris Collins, hasn’t been totally honest with us.’
‘In what way?’ She pushed open a door at the top of the stairwell.
‘In relation to his previous.’
‘What do you mean? We know he has convictions.’
‘But did we know how nasty they were?’
‘So hurry up and tell me.’
‘Both offences were against young women. The affray on his record happened outside a pub late one night. Others involved said Collins was laying into a girl big style. They got stuck in and someone called the law. The judge took the view that they were as guilty as each other and they all went down, including the girl. She had form herself apparently: violent conduct, public order, breach of the peace and so on.’
‘And the grievous bodily harm case?’
‘Was against his then girlfriend. He glassed her with a bottle.’
‘Nice.’
‘Not nice, she lost an eye. So whatever you think of Atkins’ bullying tactics vis-à-vis you, his determination to separate Collins from his daughter is entirely justified.’
‘Takes one to know one.’ Kate’s theory was back. It stung like a prod from a branding iron.
‘There’s more. Andy has done a thorough background check on Collins. We knew he was a city boy. He said as much in interview. All the stuff he was spouting about supporting his mum was bollocks. It appears they weren’t always so close.’
‘Go on.’ Kate stopped walking, the better to pay attention. ‘What else did Andy say?’
‘Collins spent years in care as a kid. According to reports prepared for the County Court, his mother took him in again when he was sixteen. She threw him out six months later when he got into trouble. When he left Deerbolt YOI after his last sentence she refused to have him back.’
‘Where did he go?’
‘His uncle offered to care for him. It didn’t last. When their relationship deteriorated he too threw him out. Young Christopher has a whole other persona we didn’t know about. He’s not as nice as Beth would have us believe. Maybe she’s not either.’
‘I’ll bear it in mind,’ Kate said. ‘Thanks for letting me know.’
Having found the maternity unit, Kate took a moment in the corridor to get her head in gear. There was so much information about her case whirring round in there she was beginning to feel drained. She walked on to the ward like she owned the place. Bright had taught her that the more confident you were, the less people challenged your reason for being there.
It worked every time.
She found Beth in the first bay of a small six-bed ward. She was awake, pale and unhappy, staring at the ceiling, deep in thought. It was heartbreaking that a girl her age should’ve encountered so much stress in her life. Sensing a presence, Beth turned her head and began to cry when she saw Kate standing there.
Drawing the curtain around the bed for some privacy, the DCI pulled up a chair and sat down. ‘If anyone asks, I’m your favourite aunt.’
Beth managed a weak smile – she had no words.
The upbeat expression slid off her face almost immediately, replaced by a much darker one, a toss-up between shame and embarrassment. A bit of both, Kate guessed. Lifting a jug of water from the bedside cabinet, the DCI p
oured some out, inviting Beth to take a sip. She complied without argument, recovering her composure.
‘I’m sorry I let you down.’ She was fiddling nervously with the edge of the sheet. ‘I don’t know what got into me.’
Kate rested a hand on hers. ‘Don’t apologize to me, Beth. It’s your father who should be doing that. He should also be right here by your side, your mum too. I assume she’s unaware of what’s happened. If she was, she’d move heaven and earth to support you.’
‘Is that why you’re here – because he’s not – because she can’t be?’
‘Something like that.’ Kate wondered if Jo was having the very same conversation with her father. Who was she kidding? If didn’t come into it. Assuming Ed Daniels had agreed to see her, he’d be making his mouth go for sure. If Kate knew anything about Jo, he’d be getting it thrown right back at him.
She wouldn’t take his bullshit.
‘I thought you might like some company,’ she said. ‘And I need to talk to you.’
‘Does he know you’re here?’
‘Not yet.’ Kate made out that it wouldn’t be an issue. She’d deal with Atkins when the time came. ‘I’ll tell him later. Does he know you’ve been transferred?’
‘Probably not. Is he angry with me?’
‘More sad than angry, I’d say.’
‘So why isn’t he here then?’
Because he’s drunk and incapable, Kate thought, and too stupid to admit he might be at fault. It is his fault – all his fault. ‘He doesn’t think you want to see him.’
‘Yeah, and why’s that?’
‘You told the nurse to turn him away.’
‘That’s true. He didn’t stick around long though, did he? I would have, given the same set of circumstances. My mum would. I bet you would too.’
‘People react to stress differently . . .’ In spite of Atkins’ loathsome behaviour, Kate found herself defending him again in order to lessen his daughter’s pain, to dispel the sentiment that she was unloved and in the way. Kate knew exactly how that felt. ‘He has been here . . . all night,’ she said. ‘He probably needs a kip. He’ll be in later, I’m sure. How are you feeling?’
‘Crap.’
Kate had to ask. ‘And the baby’s still OK?’
Beth’s eyes filled up as she gave a nod.
‘That’s great news. You must be very relieved. I should warn you that your father knows—’
‘Well, there was no hiding it once they put me in here, was there?’
‘No, I suppose not.’
‘Is Chris in custody?’
So he was the father.
‘For the time being,’ Kate said. ‘We need to question him further.’
Hank’s wise words jumped into her head: Maybe she’s not either.
Beth presented as a lovely girl, but even lovely girls – especially mixed-up ones – got into trouble occasionally and lied to get themselves out of it. This time her tears wouldn’t wash. Kate maintained a professional distance. Beth Casey might have suffered more than one underserved misfortune in her past but she was a witness to a very serious crime.
‘What did you want to talk about?’ she asked.
‘I need to be sure you’ve been totally honest with me.’
‘I have.’ She sounded innocent enough. ‘Why would I lie?’
‘To cover for Chris, maybe.’
‘No, everything I told you is true. Is he going to be charged?’
‘Not at the moment, no.’ Kate was still wondering if the tears were real. Or had she developed an ability to turn them on and off at will to manipulate a situation or gain sympathy? ‘Were you aware of his criminal history?’
She flinched. ‘What history?’
‘I didn’t think so.’ If Beth was acting she was RADA material.
She sat up, searching Kate’s face. ‘What’s he supposed to have done?’
‘I can’t tell you that. You’ll have to ask him when you see him.’
‘You’re lying!’ She snatched her hand away. ‘My dad told you to come round here and say that to put me off him, didn’t he?’
‘C’mon, Beth. Friends don’t lie to each other—’
‘Why should I listen to you?’
‘Because I’m trying to help you, like I helped your mum.’ Kate had to tread carefully. She couldn’t afford to alienate the girl completely. She’d clam up and visiting rights would cease – as they had for her father. ‘I can tell you that Chris was in trouble before he moved up this way. He claims that he hid at Boe Rigg campsite to keep out of Gardner’s way.’
‘He did.’
‘That wasn’t the only reason though, was it? He kept out of our way to hide his past from you. That’s why he ran from your dad.’ Kate paused, giving Beth time to reflect. ‘You can see how it looks, can’t you? Chris has demonstrated a propensity to lie. That calls into question his account of what happened on Saturday.’
‘I don’t care how it looks. I told you the truth and I’m sure he did too.’
‘Are you? Really?’ Kate wasn’t as convinced. Her eyes shifted to the mobile phone lying on the bedcover. ‘You never told me you’d been calling Richard Hedley constantly since Sunday, did you?’
‘You didn’t ask.’
‘No, I didn’t.’ Kate’s tone was harder than before. ‘I’m investigating your friend’s murder. Did it not occur to you to mention it?’
Beth held her gaze defiantly.
Kate watched her flesh turn colour. A mottled patch of pink crept up her neck and settled in her cheeks. Nerves did that sometimes. She’d been found out.
‘Beth, you’re not going to like what I’m about to say, but I’m going to say it anyway.’ Kate gave it straight. ‘I’m not a parent. If I was I know that nothing would be more important than protecting my child from harm. You should take some time while you’re in here to think long and hard about your relationship with Collins. I’d hate you to make the same mistake your mother made.’
‘You can’t compare Chris with my dad!’
‘Listen, Beth, I’ve been a detective long enough to know that abused women, damaged women, seek out a certain type of man. They may not do it consciously but it does happen.’
‘No. Chris isn’t like that. He might fly off the handle occasionally, but he wouldn’t do that to Elliott. He wouldn’t.’
‘Your dad thinks Elliott is the father of your child.’
Beth couldn’t hide her shock.
‘He’s not, is he?’
‘No! That’s ridiculous.’ Beth was losing it. Her hand flew to her mouth, stemming a sob. Big tears were falling from her eyes. ‘We were soulmates since being kids . . . just mates.’
‘Chris is the father?’
Beth nodded.
Finally Kate was making headway. ‘Do you know where Richard Hedley’s parents live? I need to trace him urgently.’
‘Brighton,’ she said. ‘I don’t have an address.’
‘Phone number?’
‘No, sorry.’
Kate stood up, leaned over and gave Beth a hug, patting her gently on the back. Beth clung on tightly as tears turned to sobs. ‘C’mon, Beth. You need to stay calm and get some rest for the baby’s sake. We don’t want your blood pressure going through the roof, do we? We can talk again when you’re feeling better. You must be exhausted. Get some kip.’
Lying back against her pillows, Beth shut her eyes, her hand relaxing its grip on Kate’s, her anxiety fading away.
‘That’s better,’ Kate straightened the bedcover. It felt starched and uncomfortable. ‘I’ll be in later.’ Taking hold of the privacy curtain, she drew it open, then turned. ‘One last thing, Beth.’ The girl opened her eyes. ‘You called Richard because you were worried about him, didn’t you?’ Kate took in her nod. ‘Because he and Elliott were partners?’ Beth didn’t give an answer and Kate didn’t need one. Tears were flowing again.
47
Kate checked her watch. Damn it. She’d been with Beth for almost forty
-five minutes and there was less than fifteen minutes left of visiting time on the Coronary Care Unit. Jo was sitting on a chair outside the ward, tapping a message into her mobile phone, probably concerning her lateness.
Kate’s mobile signalled an incoming text. Where are you?
Before Jo had managed to put the phone in her bag, Kate leaned in close, too close for those who might be watching. ‘I’m here.’ She sat down sideways, facing Jo. ‘Sorry I’m late – and thank you.’
‘For what?’ Jo asked.
‘Everything. Being here. Being you. Arranging a private room. You didn’t have to do that.’ Tucking hair behind her ear, Kate took in Jo’s dishevelled appearance. Unusual. She wouldn’t visit the dump unless she’d brushed her hair. Perhaps she hadn’t been home and had rested in the car. She was getting more like Kate every day. ‘Have you had any sleep? You look shagged out.’
‘You don’t look so hot either. But unlike you, I have manners, so I wasn’t going to mention it.’ Jo widened her eyes seductively. ‘On second thoughts, maybe you do look hot.’
‘Stop it.’
Jo grinned. ‘For the record, I care less about what you look like than I do that you’re finally here. How’s the case going?’
‘Slowly.’ Kate head-pointed over Jo’s shoulder to the ward entrance. ‘How is he?’
‘He’s doing OK; baby steps, but he’s making progress and coming the terms with what’s happened. It’s shaken him up a bit.’
‘But not enough to knock any sense into him.’ It was a statement from Kate, not a question. She could tell Jo was being cagey, leaving out the unpalatable stuff.
‘I can handle a pain in the arse,’ she said. ‘I’m used to it.’
Kate ignored the attempt at humour. ‘You shouldn’t have to. If he’s giving you grief—’
‘He’s not.’ Jo was quick to defend him. ‘He doesn’t get it, Kate. He doesn’t get us.’
Her expression was playful, not depressed. She’d obviously talked to Ed Daniels at length about the barrier that existed between him and Kate. Good for her. Kate didn’t have the time in her life to hold his hand while he got his head round it. Jo was different. Having worked in many prisons, she was used to making the most of a captive audience with no escape route. The stupid bugger would have to listen, like it or not.
