Maddie thought Frank looked hesitant, like he was going to say something more. Harry may have sensed it too; his gaze lingered on the seated man.
Finally, Frank lifted his eyes from the card. ‘I know where you are,’ he said with a nod.
* * *
The door to the building had barely shut, Maddie’s feet had not yet left the rubber mat to find the fashionable gravel, but she couldn’t hold it any more. ‘Like a dog that’s been beaten too much! That’s what he said.’ She let the phrase hang in the air the way it had been hanging in her mind.
‘I heard it too. The man’s a pig, but this wasn’t the time to tell him.’
‘When is the time?’ Maddie said.
Harry stopped walking. ‘You would have told him then? In there? As part of that message?’
‘I was going to challenge him on it, yeah. No harm in that.’
‘That wasn’t what we were there for. It wasn’t the time to give the man a lesson in respect.’
‘Respect? It’s beyond that Harry. He knew what was going on. If you stand by and watch someone suffer at the hands of another, you’re no better than the offender.’
‘I agree, Maddie. But he wasn’t getting that message today, no matter how you said it.’
‘Because his brother just died?’
‘Yes, because his brother just died.’
‘Bullshit. And I’ve seen people affected worse. I don’t think that man gives a shit about anyone but himself.’
Harry fixed her in a stare, using one of his silences.
Maddie wasn’t backing down. ‘And I don’t care that you don’t like the bad language. Some of the people we come across . . . some of the people we work with . . . there’s no other way to describe them.’
‘Then don’t.’ Harry continued walking towards the car and Maddie followed. They didn’t exchange another word until they were back onto the main road. Maddie spoke first. She was looking out the window as she did, thinking out loud rather than looking for a conversation.
‘He knows more about his brother than he admitted. There’s more to it all.’
‘I’m sure there is. This Craig sounds like he upsets people.’
‘You mean like me?’ Maddie turned to flicker a smile. She was trying to lighten the mood.
‘No. I mean like someone capable of extreme violence.’
‘Like strapping a bomb under his car? You don’t think it was random then?’
Harry shrugged, ‘I don’t know enough about that investigation. That won’t be for me to worry about anyway, I’ve done my part. I’ll update the boss and check in with the team doing house-to-house round Toby Routledge’s block of flats. I need to see how much they did before they got pulled away.’
‘What then?’
‘We need to go and see his mother, but we’ll do that after.’
‘After?’
‘I want to swing by the hospital. There were two officers caught up in the explosion. Superficial injuries, I think. But we should show our faces.’
‘Hospital? I read there were police witnesses but I didn’t know there were injuries?’
‘Minor injuries. But it can’t hurt to stick our heads in.’
Maddie stared at him until he returned to her gaze.
‘What?’
‘I just didn’t know you cared!’ She chuckled.
‘It wasn’t so long ago that I was hurt doing this job. I remember how it feels when your mates turn up. It was everything.’
Maddie turned away. She felt her cheeks flush. They hadn’t talked about it, really; it was as if neither of them knew how. She recognised that this was probably as close as Harry Blaker would ever get to showing his appreciation.
‘You’re welcome, Harry,’ she said.
Chapter 23
Frank Dolton bundled through his own front door less than twenty minutes after the two detectives left. He had given them a few minutes to get clear, hanging around his own reception area, watching them stop in the middle of his car park for a chat about who knows what. They had left eventually and he had been only two minutes behind them.
He swung his front door open and turned off the hallway into his study. His computer screen was dark. He had to stop and calm himself before reaching for the mouse to awaken it. He realised he was breathing heavily and sweating profusely.
The screen blinked on. It was his home screen again, and the same picture of him and the glamour model. He was really beginning to despise his own smug grin in that picture. The timer was the same, too: the same font, the same design and it was still ticking down.
‘Nineteen hours forty minutes,’ he said out loud. The door to his study swung open and made him jump. A plump, middle-aged woman filled it. She stopped and crossed her arms. It was Sasha, his personal chef.
‘Well, I hope you’re not expecting dinner just yet, Mr Dolton. You need to call ahead if you’re going to be early. I told you that.’
‘You did. No need to worry.’ His attention moved back to the screen. There was a notification telling him he had new mail. Sasha hadn’t moved away. ‘Can I help you with anything else?’
‘No.’ Her arms fell apart and she tutted — but she did move away. Frank clicked to bring up his email screen. Nine new messages. He skimmed the senders. His eyes rested on the one from ‘Alexa’. The subject read: Now you listen . . . He clicked the message open.
Frank Dolton,
So now you know what I can do.
Three days ago in the tunnel was a demonstration. I did not need to hurt people that day. Today I needed to hurt your family, but they are not important to you, I see that now. Tomorrow all your people will hurt.
There is another device. It is on a vehicle. It is already in place. This person is not lucky. It is set for 12 noon, tomorrow. If you do not pay, I will make sure it is known that you did nothing to save your people. Not good for commissioner!
But I think maybe this is not enough. Maybe you do not care for people. So you will see there are attachments to this message. I found them on your computer. Some you have tried to delete but they are still there. You will know what I can do with them.
You did not care about brother, but I know you care about your fortune. I know you will pay for this.
£10 million. This is the money to destroy this information. This is the money to save your citizens, to be next commissioner. To be hero man, but man who gets richer in secret.
I release this information to press, to police, to the world. Tomorrow. 12 noon. Unless you pay.
Alexa
There were lots of attachments. He clicked through the first few and they opened at different places on his screen. Documents, photos, signed contracts, he recognised them all. Some were recent, some much older. He slunk back into his chair. His breathing was still fast and heavy, sweat still clung to his forehead. He wiped it with the arm of his jacket. He didn’t need to open the rest. He didn’t need to look at any of them in detail either. He knew what they were and he knew what they meant.
‘You’re working too hard, sir.’ Sasha swept into view. ‘You’re looking old before your time.’ She held a cup in one hand and a plate in the other. ‘I made scones. I’ve been harsh on you recently. I’m only thinking of you — we need you to be healthy. But this is a treat.’ She put the tea and scones down on his desk. Frank couldn’t speak. He nodded. She took it as enough and left.
His right hand fell to his pocket and he took out his wallet. He fished out the card he had been given by Detective Inspector Harry Blaker. He took it out and ran his finger along the name. He stopped on the phone number. He knew he should call. This was serious. There was another device out there. But once he did, once he picked up that phone and said those words, there would be no taking it back. And then everyone would know.
He stood up, strode back through to the hall and turned to the door. He would go for a drive, clear his head a bit maybe. He couldn’t think straight. Not with that damned timer ticking down in front of him.
/> Nineteen hours, thirty-six minutes.
* * *
In the hospital, Maddie embraced Sergeant Tim Betts. Harry Blaker stepped forward and reached out for a handshake, but Tim declined politely. ‘Sorry, sir, sprained wrist.’
‘Nothing too bad, then?’ Harry said.
‘Nah. I sent the junior out first, of course.’
‘Less of the junior!’ A voice boomed out from behind a white curtain just beyond Tim. They were in the area of beds that was part of the accident and emergency department, where they put the minor injuries that they couldn’t deal with immediately. The curtain whooshed back and a harassed-looking nurse swept out and moved quickly away. Maddie was left staring at Vince Arnold. He wore a big grin but it dropped away pretty quickly; he must have picked up on her shocked expression.
‘Now this is a sight for sore eyes!’ he bellowed. ‘Couldn’t keep away could you, sarge?’
‘I had no idea it was you!’ Maddie spluttered.
‘Of course you didn’t! It’s okay, you know. You can tell me. What . . . did you get blue-lighted over here when you heard?’
Harry stepped through the curtain and Vince took up his handshake. Maddie had seen them interact before: it was clear that there was a lot of mutual respect between them.
‘How you doin’, boss? Nice to have you back. You know, after all that happened.’ Vince still talked too loud.
‘Couldn’t keep me away. All the good ones get hurt at some point,’ Harry said. He stepped back as if he was taking in Vince’s form. He was sitting up in a black uniform top with a zip at the top that hung open. His eyes were red and streaming. His face had been wiped clean, but there was still blackening around his ears, both of which had a yellow-tipped plug just visible that might have accounted for his increased volume. Maddie cursed herself for not making herself aware of the details. She had no idea the officers had been so close to the car when it went up. It must have been terrifying.
‘I’ve always thought that, boss. I got frazzled eyebrows and a ringing in me ears. That’s about it. Not enough to keep a good soldier down. Not like my skipper out there, the man who got caught up in an explosion and managed to sprain his wrist taking his seat belt off!’
Tim stepped in behind them. ’You need to change the record, mate,’ he said, jovially. ‘And the doctor’s just dropped back the results from your brain scan. Turns out you still ain’t got one.’
‘Very good! You been out there for ages thinking that one up?’
Maddie stepped closer to Vince. He must have seen the intensity in her and his smile dropped away.
‘You okay, Mads?’
‘You were close enough to see him?’
‘See him?’
‘Craig Dolton, you saw him?’
‘I saw him. I was talking to him. We were done and I was walking back to the car. Next thing I know all hell broke loose.’
‘He was in there? He was definitely in there?’
‘Mads, the man went up. No doubt he was in that car, in the driver’s seat. I walked away and I heard the engine fire. It pulled away — then it went. He was in there. He’s long gone.’
Maddie reached for his hand. He squeezed it gently. ‘I’m glad you’re okay, Vince.’
‘And I’m glad you’re the one on the case, Mads. They damned near ruined these good looks. That should be a crime on its own!’
Maddie grinned — the way she always grinned when Vince spoke. She couldn’t help it. ‘I’d best get back to it then.’ She paced back through the busy ward with Harry at her side.
‘You didn’t have the heart to tell him the explosions are someone else’s problem?’
Maddie was still good-humoured. ‘It doesn’t matter anyway. That man hears whatever version he wants to hear.’
* * *
Toby Routledge’s family home was not somewhere Maddie had been before and neither had she met his mother, despite the numerous interactions with her son. Sharon Lyons had always refused to come out in support of Toby when he was in custody. Maddie hadn’t been sure of the reason, but just moments after knocking she could hazard a guess. The first of her reasons answered the door. The other one was scurrying around in a baby walker.
‘MA!’ The first girl looked around twelve years old and hadn’t developed her late brother’s response to police officers yet. She stepped back immediately, allowing the door to swing open so she could shout up the stairs. It was a couple of minutes before Sharon Lyons appeared. Her bare feet slapped against the exposed wood of the stairs on the way down. She was careful to avoid the spiky carpet grips that were still in place. She looked red in the face. Her hair was pulled back and tied roughly. She wore leggings and what looked like a man’s fleece top with the sleeves pulled over her hands. She stopped two steps from the bottom. Her whole demeanour was of someone who was agitated and on edge. And she hadn’t said a word yet.
‘Miss Lyons?’ Harry said.
‘Yeah. You coppers?’
‘I’m Detective Inspector Harry Blaker and this is Sergeant Ives.’
‘So? What do you want with me? You lot don’t think you’ve done enough?’
‘What do you mean?’ Harry said. Maddie thought it was a brave sentence the instant it fell from his lips — the verbal equivalent to lighting blue touchpaper.
‘What do I mean? He came to you, didn’t he? He told me he came to you. When he got out of your place he said he had asked for help but he got nothing! Just like he always got from you. I know he was trouble, that kid, trust me on that. I know better than anyone. But when he asked you for help — you did nothing!’
‘That isn’t quite true . . .’ Maddie stepped in a little.
‘You calling my boy a liar? ’Cause he ain’t here to talk about it now, is he? He can’t be giving his side of the story — you lot made sure of that!’
‘I saw Toby. I was the last police officer to speak with him and I asked him over and over what he was scared of. He was scared too. I’d never seen him like that and I met him a fair few times.’
Toby’s mother fixed Maddie in a stare. Maddie gave her a moment to think, to be the next to speak.
‘So you knew he was scared and you still did nothing about it?’
‘He wouldn’t talk to me about it. I just about stopped short of begging him, Miss Ly—’
‘Well, you should have begged him!’ Toby’s mother’s voice was raised enough to silence both officers. She walked the two remaining steps and turned into a room off to their left. Maddie exchanged glances with Harry. She shrugged and stepped in to follow her through. The youngest child was a little baby girl. She was dressed in a nappy and a pink T-shirt and thumped her baby-walker enthusiastically into the sofa. She giggled as the sensation rippled through the plastic surround and made her chubby cheeks wobble. She lifted her giggle up to Maddie, then her little legs propelled her backwards so she could do it all over again.
Sharon Lyons was at the other end of the room, where bright daylight leaked through a large window and framed her in silhouette. She was facing away, her right hand splayed and resting against her right cheek. A neat spiral of cigarette smoke now rose from between her fingers, only dissipating when it hit the yellowed ceiling.
‘How old?’ Maddie asked.
Sharon didn’t turn round. She didn’t move. ‘Eleven months.’
‘She looks like she’s enjoying that walker!’ Maddie chanced, still trying to lighten the mood. There was a pause. Maddie knew this was where she either softened and talked to them or they were ordered out. Sharon Lyons decided to soften. She turned to face back into the room.
‘She’s never happier than when she’s bumping off something. Shoulda been a boy, that one. I guess I’ve run out of boys now.’ She looked empty of emotion rather than sad. Her face was ashen, her body straight and stiff rather than sagging under the strain of the last few days. She was coping at least. Maddie guessed she was used to having to.
‘Can we have a seat?’ she said. ‘All of us, I mea
n. You might have some questions for us?’
Sharon gestured at the sofa. The movement made a kink in the line of smoke. Maddie sat down and Harry next to her. Sharon was still by the window. She pushed it open a little and winter reached through the gap in the form of an icy breeze.
‘Sorry. I shoulda opened that earlier.’ Sharon wafted the smoke like it might make a difference. The air was already beginning to thicken with a white haze.
‘It’s your home, Sharon,’ Maddie said.
‘I don’t have questions. Nothing you can answer. A couple of your lot were round here earlier. They said he had been found. They told me how. They said it was being treated as suspicious because of his age, but there weren’t nothing there to suggest any foul play or nothing. Like he might have just slipped under and drowned. I asked them how that was possible, how a healthy, strong boy like that just . . . slips away. He don’t. Not my Tobes. Since he left here, I don’t reckon he’s used that bath the whole time. I’d never get him to sit in a bath. He was in and out of a shower if you were lucky, like most boys. He shouldn’t even have been in there. I told them something ain’t right and they wrote it all down in their little books and they told me they would get answers. I don’t reckon you got any of them answers yet, have you?’
‘No.’ Harry’s standard abruptness was cutting.
‘So what you doing here?’ Her anger was coming back.
‘Probably asking some of the same questions, Miss Lyons. I’m what’s called the SIO — Senior Investigating Officer. Basically, that means it’s my job to find out what happened. I take that very seriously. I’ll have a look at what they wrote down but I like to speak to the people that matter myself.’
‘I don’t get why I matter.’
‘When did you see Toby last?’
She took a deep suck on her cigarette. Her hand had a shake to it. She coughed when she breathed out. It was rasping, like the early sign of something serious. She had to take a moment to get her breath.
HE WILL KILL YOU an absolutely gripping crime thriller with a massive twist Page 19
