by Joy Ellis
‘Let me go!’ Nikki aimed a flying backwards kick. There was a howl of pain and one arm was released. Whipping around, she managed to throw the second man off balance. She leapt back, ready to take on whoever was coming for her. Where the hell was uniform?
Potato-head was moving forward again. ‘Filth!’
She took a step back and tried to call for urgent assistance, but her radio was snatched from her grasp. The side of her head suddenly felt as if it had exploded. Her jaw cracked shut, filling her mouth with blood as her teeth caught her tongue. Jagged spears of light flashed behind her eyes. There was a rushing, roaring noise, and she pitched forward.
‘Ma’am!’
The voice sounded muffled amid the roaring, but someone had managed to catch her before she hit the concrete. They half-carried her away from the fight.
‘Eric?’
‘Jesus, ma’am! You took one hell of a swipe from that placard. Are you okay, or should I get the medics?’
Nikki shook her head, then wished she hadn’t. ‘Oh, shit!’ She leant for a moment against a thick wooden fence, taking deep breaths and touching the lump on the side of her head. ‘No, I’m okay. Thanks to you. What on earth are you doing here? And what about that bunch of yobs?’
‘Don’t worry, uniform have sorted them out. I was looking for you, ma’am. And it is all leave cancelled, although I know that didn’t actually apply to me.’ Eric Barnes looked different. He seemed subdued, serious. ‘Are you sure you don’t want the ambulance guys to check you over?’
‘No, I’ll be all right in a minute.’ She’d suffered worse.
‘Come round here, ma’am.’ DC Barnes led her into a small cul-de-sac containing a few private houses and a small nursing home. ‘It’s a bit quieter, and you can sit here.’ He placed her handbag beside her on a low wall. ‘I found this, but your radio was pulverised under some scrote’s boot.’
Nikki carefully lowered herself down onto the stone lintel and breathed a sigh of relief. ‘A placard, did you say? It felt more like a steel beam.’
‘Well, a bit of chipboard nailed to a chunk of four-by-four is more like it. Nasty.’ Eric Barnes sat down next to her. ‘You look a bit better.’
‘Apart from a bitten tongue and a bruise the size of a coconut, I’m great.’ She winced as she touched it again. ‘So why were you looking for me?’
The young detective looked down at his trainers. ‘To apologise. Wholeheartedly. And before you ask, when I return from my supposed sick leave, I will be taking your advice. Moving on is fine by me. I was a prat. A callous, unthinking prat, and now I keep seeing Andrew Gregory’s face.’ He shuddered. ‘Thing is, I did try to tell him. I tried to say sorry, but he wouldn’t have any of it. He told me to burn in hell. If you’d seen the hate in his eyes. I’m having nightmares about it. So . . .’
Nikki held her head and tried to concentrate. This was more than she had expected of him. ‘I know, Eric. We can’t undo some things. Can’t go back and have another shot. We just have to learn from them and move on.’
He looked thoroughly miserable. ‘I thought, well, I can’t just leave and have you thinking I don’t give a shit, because I do. I . . . Well, I’ve always had problems with women who’re in control. I know it’s no excuse, but I didn’t have a good childhood. My mother and my sister . . . Anyhow, it’s no excuse, but I get really angry.’ He stared at the ground. ‘And before someone else tells you, I have said some terrible things about you, you know. I just couldn’t help myself.’
Nikki looked at the young detective. ‘You have to lose that attitude, Eric. You could make it to the top if you wanted to, but only if you ditch the past and start to trust your new team. Women are here to stay, Detective. Like it or not, we aren’t going away.’ She gave him a half-smile. ‘And I’m not your mother!’
‘No, you’re not. She was a sadist. And I can’t believe I’m saying this, but you are okay.’ He stood up. ‘I’ve got to go, ma’am. Thank you for listening. Will you be all right now?’
‘Yeah, fine. I’ll just sit here for a minute or two, then I’d better find the others. And, DC Barnes? I appreciate your help back there. Thank you.’
Nikki stared after him as he rounded the corner and joined the crush of mourners. She wondered just how much courage that had taken. She had firmly believed that he would hate her for asking him to request a transfer. Perhaps Andrew Gregory’s courage had brought the boy to his senses. She hoped the breakthrough would last, but she wasn’t totally convinced. Eric’s new team was bound to have at least one woman detective in it, maybe even another Cat Cullen, if that were possible. It would be interesting to see how he coped in the job long-term.
She looked at her watch and tried to calculate how long it had been since she left Cat. Not long probably. The fight had most likely only lasted a few moments, and although her conversation with Eric Barnes had been pretty intense, it could not have taken more than fifteen minutes. Whatever, she had better get back before she was missed.
Steadying herself against the wall, she took a few tentative steps. She knew she was going to have the granddaddy of all headaches. A dull thud was already pulsating between her temples. She sat back down for a moment, then took a deep breath and walked to the end of the close, where she halted to survey the scene on the Waterway.
Thank God, it seemed to have returned to its original mood. The crowd were now singing along with three young women on the rostrum. It was a fair rendition of Robbie Williams’ Angels.
She looked over towards the river and saw the outline of Yvonne Collins, silhouetted in front of a large portable light, passing out armfuls of flowers from a huge pile of cardboard boxes. The critical point seemed to have passed.
Nikki couldn’t see Cat, but guessed she would still be at the house. She pulled out her mobile to ring her, then pushed it back into her pocket. It would be hard to hear with all the singing, and she could be there by the time Cat had answered the call.
Gathering herself together, she began to walk towards Newlands. Although she kept close to the garden fences and walls, she was still jostled and pushed, which did little for her aching head. She would be glad to get this bloody night over. A hot drink and some paracetamol seemed like the Holy Grail right now.
Two young couples, arms draped about each other and trying unsuccessfully to walk four abreast, drew level with her. At the same time someone hurried up behind her, nudging her into their path. She felt a sharp stinging pain at the top of her leg, and cursed to herself. A wasp? A bee sting? What the hell now?
More people were surrounding her, someone was calling frantically for a missing child, and others were hurrying to get to the river before the flowers were all scattered.
Nikki let the crowd flow past her. Something was wrong with her. She turned around. She needed to get back to the wall, and sit down again. Perhaps she should have let Eric get the medics after all.
Nausea overcame her, and her head began to swim. She reached helplessly for a gatepost, and then, with a small whimper, pitched into darkness.
* * *
Cat pushed her way through the crowds on the Westland Waterway, searching for her boss. The size of the crowd was beginning to frighten her. Finding a single woman would be almost impossible. She pulled out her phone. ‘Sarge? It’s Cat.’
Joseph’s voice was crackly. ‘I can hardly hear you, Cat. Can you speak up?’
‘Have you got the boss with you?’ she shouted.
‘Sorry. I haven’t seen her for a while. I thought she was with you. Try her mobile.’
‘I have. There’s no reply.’
Joseph faded, then came back, ‘She’s probably trying to sort one of these stupid spats of trouble.’
‘I suppose, but it is much quieter now that the flowers have been floated. Can you tell her to ring me if you see her, Sarge?’
There was another crackle and the line went dead. Cat closed her phone and looked around again. She couldn’t believe so many people wanted to linger. She dr
ew her jacket closer around her and shivered. It was one bloody long night. And where the hell was DI Galena?
‘DC Cullen! Got a minute?’ Jessie was kneeling down beside a young woman wearing a thick imitation fur jacket and high boots. She was sitting on the kerb, looking dazed and pale. ‘One too many alcopops in the Pink Crocodile, I think. And her mates have deserted her.’
‘What can I do? Get a paramedic to look her over?’
‘Sorry, no, it’s not this. I can cope here. It’s the superintendent. He’s looking for DI Galena.’
Cat felt a trickle of concern run down her backbone and she absent-mindedly rubbed at the scar on her face. ‘I can’t find her either, and her phone is not picking up.’
‘Have you left a message on voicemail?’
‘It’s not responding, Jessie. I’m really worried about her. No one’s seen her for over an hour.’ Cat looked around at the surreal scene of candles and arc lights, darkness and shadows. ‘Where is the super? I think I’d better have a word with him.’
‘On the bridge.’
As Cat made her way to where she could see Superintendent Woodhall and several other officers gathered, she had a sudden flash of memory. That threat. Someone else may die. She quickened her pace. It was time someone pulled the plug on this powder keg. They’d had their service, their candles, songs and flowers of remembrance. Trouble had been sporadic and easily contained, but enough was enough. It was time to call it a day before someone got hurt — if they hadn’t already.
Fear gripped her gut and twisted it hard. She broke into a run.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
It was not so much an awakening as a slow drift in and out of consciousness. One moment she seemed to be waking up — she could see shadows and hear muffled noises — only to slip away again before awareness fully returned.
Finally her head began to clear, and this time she fought to stay awake. The room lurched and spun, but she fought the desire to close her eyes, and slowly everything settled. The pain in her head was indescribable, but she pushed back the waves of nausea and hung on grimly. She had to be in hospital. Where else would they have taken her? But why couldn’t she see anything? It was night, maybe she was in a side ward and the door was shut. That was probably it.
Nikki swallowed hard and tried not to be sick. There should be a bell somewhere. The nurses would want to know she was awake. And water. More than anything she wanted a drink of cold water. Groggily she turned and reached out for her bedside locker. Her hand touched something cold. The water carafe? Then with a choking cry she drew her hand back. What she had felt was a stone wall.
Fear slipped with her into that dark place. If she was not in hospital, where the hell was she? Awareness began to return, and with it, the full horror of her situation.
She moaned softly in the darkness. She had to get herself together. She needed to get away from wherever this was. Then two people filled her thoughts, Joseph, her dearest friend, and Eve, her mother. She saw their faces, and felt their anguish. In her time she’d told enough desperate families that one of their loved ones was missing. She knew exactly the dreadful uncertainty that they would suffer, and she could not put them through that. No matter what had happened to her, or who had taken her, she had to get away, and fast.
* * *
‘CCTV! Are there any cameras along the Westland Waterway?’ Superintendent Woodhall demanded.
‘There’s one camera at the town end, just by the traffic lights, and one at the far end by the playing field. Nothing near where the vigil took place, sir.’
‘And was she seen on either of them?’
Dave looked grey. ‘We’re checking now. But it’s going to take a while, with all those people coming and going, sir. Oh, and we think there might be one in the grounds of the nursing home in the cul-de-sac. We’ve sent someone out to check.’
‘Sergeant! Get hold of all the media who were present. I want every picture, every downloaded photo, every memory card, every roll of film and every bit of recorded footage. Someone must have caught her on camera.’
Jessie entered the room, her face as drawn as Dave’s. ‘We’ve got the remains of her radio, sir.’ She held up a plastic bag. ‘Deliberately smashed to bits, by the look of it.’
‘Are the boards in place outside Newlands, asking for information?’
The uniformed sergeant looked exhausted. ‘Yes, sir, and at both ends of the Waterway. And we are doing a house to house. Under the circumstances, we decided not to wait for daylight.’
‘Quite right. Keep me posted on everything as it comes in, okay.’ Woodhall turned and beckoned to Joseph. ‘You, Sergeant Easter, and DC Cullen, come to my office.’
* * *
Joseph leant against the wall and tried to keep a hold on his emotions. How could he have even let Nikki out of his sight? They knew what a volatile situation it was, and yet he’d gone dancing off trying to keep the peace, when uniform could have done the job just as well. He knew he would never forgive himself for this. He looked around miserably. Cat was slouched in the only spare chair and Greg Woodhall was leaning heavily forwards, his elbows planted amid his files, reports and scattered memo pads. Every man and woman on the station was overcome by shock and disbelief, and the superintendent seemed to be no exception.
‘Joseph? Should we notify her mother, Eve Anderson?’
‘I don’t want her to see it on the news. No matter how much we try to keep this under wraps, it will get out, if it hasn’t already.’
‘I agree. Would it be better coming from someone she knows?’
Joseph nodded. ‘I’ll do it after this meeting.’ He had no idea what he would say. All his training, all the wisdom gained during years of travel, suddenly meant nothing. How would he tell a mother that the child she had just found again after years of being separated had been abducted? For that’s what this was. Someone had taken Nikki, and it was his fault.
The superintendent was staring at him. ‘No time for self-recrimination, Joseph. I know exactly what you are thinking, and no one could have kept watch in that crowd.’ He paused, then gave Joseph a rueful smile. ‘And don’t forget, we are talking about Nikki Galena here. Do you honestly think she would have meekly stuck by your side when there was work to be done? Get real, lad, and get your detective’s hat on and concentrate. Now, the first question I have to ask is, do we think Nikki has been taken by Helen Brook’s killer?’ He stared intently at Joseph.
With a wrench, Joseph pulled himself together. Woodhall was right. He could beat himself up later. Right now he needed to find one of the few people in the world that he truly cared about. ‘I would think there is little doubt about that, sir.’
Cat clenched her teeth and added. ‘I agree, sir, although we cannot rule Stephen Cox out of the equation. He is in the area, and he hates the police.’
‘Let’s look at Brook’s killer first. Where are we with the suspects?’
Joseph said, ‘Most people had fingered Andrew Gregory as the main suspect, but he is now dead. Helen’s stalker, Paul Brant, is also dead. We are left with a small group of her clients, two in particular — Titus Whipp, a known troublemaker and a real oddball, and Oliver Kirton, a well-educated, well-off PhD, with a long-term drink and drug problem.’
‘One that has left him seriously psychologically disturbed,’ added Cat.
‘Although his condition is controlled with medication, or so we are led to believe,’ Joseph said.
Greg Woodhall pulled at his shirt collar and looked uncomfortable. ‘You do know we are talking about the nephew of Superintendent Arthur Kirton, don’t you?’
‘We had heard, but it makes no difference, does it? If he’s a suspect, he’s a suspect.’ Joseph sounded more than a little irritated.
‘I could not agree more, Joseph. I just wanted you be aware, that’s all.’
‘Thank you. We are aware. Other than that, we are still interviewing all the other patients who ever visited Helen Brook at her home. Because of the business
of the locked room, it has to be someone she was happy to invite in, or someone who knew the place really well.’
‘I want every one of them interviewed tonight. And I suggest you search both Whipp’s and Kirton’s homes. I’ll organise the warrants.’ He ran a hand through his thick greying hair. ‘Now, all the other teams have volunteered to work overtime to help you. We have still got our work cut out to find the killer of the body in the river, as well as the evil bastards who tortured and killed those poor souls out on the fen, so I can’t give them to you officially. But I don’t have to tell you how crucial these first hours are in finding Nikki. Forget the budget for once, and use every officer we have. Just get her back.’
There was a lump in Joseph’s throat as he opened the door to leave. Then he saw Jessie Nightingale running towards him. ‘Sarge! The nursing home on the corner of Westland and Milton? The CCTV has picked up the guv’nor! PC Farrow is bringing it in now.’
In ten minutes they were staring at the footage.
‘Who’s that with her?’ The superintendent leant closer to the screen.
‘Jesus! It’s Eric Barnes! What the hell was he doing at the vigil?’ Cat’s eyes were wide with amazement. ‘I thought he was on sick leave.’
‘He was,’ added Joseph solemnly, ‘On the DI’s instruction. And there is no love lost between him and the inspector.’ He looked at the grainy footage and frowned. ‘But that looks as if he’s hit her! Or is he helping her? No, he’s supporting her! See the way he’s gripping her, she can hardly stand!’
Woodhall’s lips were a tight white line. ‘I’m passing no judgement at this point, but I want that young man brought in, now. Whatever happened out there, DC Barnes seems to be the last person to have seen before she vanished. So go find him! Fast!’
* * *
Nikki lay in the darkness and tried to remember what had happened. The last thing she could be sure of was the vigil, Oliver Kirton’s eulogy, and then some sort of scuffle. She had a vague memory of an ugly face pressed close to hers, mouthing the word, filth, then after that, nothing. She also had some impression that Eric Barnes had been there. That had to be some sort of dream or drug-induced fantasy, because she knew the stroppy young detective had been nowhere near the vigil. She almost smiled. It had to be a dream, because she seemed to remember him apologising to her. Hell would freeze over before he’d do that.
