‘Black, no sugar.’ Harry Blaker’s voice filled her ear. She jerked her head towards it, her lips parted to snarl a reply but he was already moving away. She stared at his back, her teeth gritted. He had the collar on his wax jacket pulled up, his hands pushed firmly into deep pockets. He took a seat at an empty table at the far end and pulled a discarded newspaper idly towards him. He didn’t look over. She had to break from staring at him. Someone was talking to her from behind the counter; they were asking her what she wanted.
Maddie put both drinks down on the table. She didn’t sit. Harry sat back from his paper and looked up.
‘Are you going to sit down so we can talk about this?’ Harry said. Maddie didn’t want to. She wanted more time; she knew she was still furious.
‘I’m so angry.’
‘I know that. It wasn’t quite like the boss made it sound.’
‘Oh, really? Because it sounded like you went running to him with Grace’s diary, with her heart and soul poured out on that paper, and you used it to bolster your theory about how Grace sought some diabolical revenge for which she should be shot. Is that not what happened?’
Harry’s head moved right and left like he was checking around him.
‘This might not be the best place.’
‘What if they do shoot her on sight? What if they kill her? And for what? What do we actually have? Circumstantial evidence at best. There’s no way she was responsible for what we just saw.’
Harry was still fixed on her. ‘At least sit down, Maddie.’
She sniffed, pulled the chair out and perched on the edge.
‘I’m worried about her too,’ Harry said. ‘You’re not the only one. You don’t get the monopoly on that—’
‘You met her once! Five minutes in her kitchen! I’ve been working with her, building her trust. I told her I would keep her safe. I gave her my word. I’m not saying I’m the only one who can care about the girl, just that other people don’t know the half of it — they can’t! I’ve seen what he’s done to her and I’ve read those words. What she went through . . .’ Maddie was starting to run out of steam. She was aware that she had cut him off, that she wasn’t letting him talk. ‘I did warn you. I’m angry.’
‘I read it, too. I met her, too. Yes, it was only five minutes, but don’t think I don’t care. I know that you think a lot of her. I know you want to help her. But we have to look at it as police officers, not—’
‘Don’t start patronising me! Don’t start telling me what I’m thinking and why. I’m not some rookie that just walked in off the street.’
Harry sat back and he put up his hands as if he was surrendering. The anger that had rushed back left just as quickly. An apology shot to her lips. She held it back.
‘When we look at this as police officers we see a woman who has been through hell at the hands of Craig Dolton. Raped the night before. Beaten until she lost her baby. Then we see him murdered the same day that she finally leaves him.’
‘Surely you can see that could well be circumstantial, that the bomb incidents are linked but the victims are random — part of something much bigger. Besides, where is she supposed to have found a grenade when she wasn’t even allowed out of the house? When she wasn’t allowed to talk to even her neighbours? She wasn’t physically capable of making a bomb anyway, let alone putting it in his car. And she’s a victim, Harry. I’ve never seen more of a victim than her. She’s terrified, just the thought of doing something to harm her abuser would be enough to send her over the edge.’
‘I hear what you’re saying, but we just don’t know. We have a lot more questions than answers. Grace gives us some of those answers, Maddie, and that brings us to the obvious question . . . where is she? If she was leaving her abusive partner to get herself safe surely she would come to the police — she would have come to you.’
Maddie rubbed at her face. Her climbdown was complete. She had asked herself the same question — of course she had. ‘I don’t know. I do know that she’s scared and confused — she has to be. She must know he’s dead, the whole world does by now. I don’t know why she hasn’t made contact. I think maybe she’s taking some time out from it all. She’s got herself somewhere safe and she’s just getting her head straight before she makes contact. Who knows what she’s thinking! Maybe she’s put two and two together and is scared she’s in the frame. I don’t know.’
‘We need to find her. We knew that earlier, so nothing’s changed since before that briefing this morning.’
‘The tactics have! Clark and Lowe in there want to send twitchy firearms officers to front her up and shout in her face. I think she’s had just about enough of that, don’t you?’
‘I know, Maddie. It’s not ideal. I said that I didn’t think it would be necessary, but he’s twitchy himself. Can you imagine the fallout? If she detonated another device because we took a softly, softly approach?’
‘Why would she detonate another device? Jesus, Har—’
‘I know! The commanders need to be doing everything they can to stop her if that is her intention. It’s how you survive in that role.’
Maddie finally relaxed enough to take a swig of her coffee. Now she was calmer, she knew Harry was right — not that she would admit that, not here. She needed to get back to work. She needed to be the one who found Grace. At least then she could be sure how it would end. She pushed down on the plastic lid to secure it on her drink.
‘I need to get back to work . . . Dammit!’ Maddie’s phone was vibrating in her pocket. She lifted it out. The display showed the same prefix for when she had received a call from the force control room.
‘Hello.’
‘DS Ives?’ The low din in the background, the clattering of keys — the voice was different but she recognised this as the FCR calling her again. She stiffened a little.
‘Yes.’
‘’Sorry to bother you, Sergeant. I’m calling from the FCR. We’ve had an alarm activation. One of your DV alarms. It’s assigned to Grace Hughes and the notes say to let you know.’
‘Grace Hughes! Yes. Where is it showing?’ Maddie made eye contact with Harry. He stood up immediately. She started walking to the door.
‘A block of flats in Margate, according to GPS. It’s called Rolla House — opposite a bowling alley on our mapping system. This Grace Hughes is marked up as a firearms response only. We do have a firearms patrol on their way on immediate status but they’re coming from Maidstone. Did you want me to ask them to make contact with you when they know a bit more?’
‘Yes. Can you also show me en route, too, please? And send through the log with the address on it.’
‘Of course. I will mark you up as attending.’
‘When was the activation?’
‘Forty minutes ago. We were sending a local patrol but the inspector up here stood them down. There’s a very clear response plan for this woman, firearms only, and they were on changeover so not close.’
‘Okay, let’s hope they’re closer now.’
She pushed her phone into her pocket. They were already out and walking the pavement. ‘Grace must have pushed the button I gave her. She’s still in Margate. Which suddenly makes sense.’
‘How does that make sense? We couldn’t find any links over there.’
‘They just gave a building name. Rolla House. It’s a women’s refuge. That’s where they moved Craig’s ex. I remember it from her notes.’
‘Craig’s ex? You think they’ve been in contact?’
‘I do now.’
‘I’m parked in the front yard.’
Maddie had her phone to her ear. It was ringing. She spoke hurriedly to Harry before it was picked up. ‘No need. I saw Vince this morning. He came in for his early turn and they’ve grounded him. He doesn’t know why. They’ve seized his clothing too. He’s moping about somewhere in a spare uniform. If he has a marked car he can drive us. We’ll get there a lot quicker.’
‘That is certainly true. But you said he was grounded?
So not allowed out?’
‘Unofficially, and he’s not sure why. His ears have a bit of a ring, that’s all. I just don’t think they know what to do with him. He’ll jump at the chance, I know he will.’
‘I get that. But he’s grounded, Maddie.’
Maddie tutted. The phone had rung out. She pressed to call Vince’s number again.
‘He is. But then, technically, so are you, Harry.’
Chapter 31
Maddie grabbed the phone vibrating in her pocket. The interruption was almost welcome: she had been staring out the car window, and an assortment of worst-case scenarios regarding Grace had been flashing through her mind.
She assumed the ringing phone was someone calling her back with an update. She had called in her theory about the women’s refuge and Craig Dolton’s ex. She thought better than putting it out over the radio. She had stayed on the phone while they had run checks and confirmed that Craig’s ex-partner was shown as living in the Rolla House building, flat number 6. They had reminded her of her name: Sally Tomms. They would pass the message onto the firearms team so they could check that flat first. That was around twenty minutes ago and the only response since then was a message passed on from the armed patrol telling them to remain by their vehicles when they arrived. No chance of that. She almost dropped the phone in her haste to answer it now. The number was concealed.
‘Yes!’
‘Maddie, bad time?’ Maddie took a moment to put a name to the voice. It was only a moment. Superintendent Alan Jackson’s voice had a distinctive rasp at the end, as if conversation was being squeezed from him. He had been her boss up until a year before in Greater Manchester. His call now was totally unexpected.
‘Boss, a little out of the blue is all!’
‘Can you speak?’
‘We’re on our way somewhere. I could call you back when I can talk better?’ He wasn’t a man who called for no good reason but Maddie could do with keeping this line free. She hoped he would get the hint. He didn’t seem to.
‘This should just take a minute of your time Maddie. I’ve just come out of a meeting, I wanted to call you straight away.’
‘A meeting?’ Her interest was piqued.
‘Yes. There’s some movement up here. We’ve had a bit of a restructure of our covert teams and the long and the short of it is there’s a vacancy for an inspector. I’ve been talking to your bosses down there, Maddie. It seems you’ve made a real impact. Julian Lowe was singing your praises for a piece of work you’ve pioneered with victims of domestic violence. He has no hesitation in endorsing you. Seems you’ll be returning with a very impressive portfolio.’
Maddie took a moment. ‘That’s good to hear. It’s not a portfolio piece — hardly pioneering either — it’s just being able to take off our policing hats for a meeting or two.’
‘I wasn’t suggesting it was only something you were doing for promotion! No need to be defensive. We’d like you back. I can’t guarantee you’d be out on the ground like you used to be, but you would be leading those who are. We’re in a state of flux up here. It’s an interesting time.’
‘A state of flux? What does that mean?’
‘The picture up here is changing. The OCG’s that were prominent when you were operating up here are starting to fall apart. There’s always a cycle. The Yarwoods, for one, seem to be imploding. One of the brothers seems to be on his way out and the other’s been hospitalised in London. And that’s just one of the gangs! We’ve put some other big players away too. It seems to be quite unsettled up here right now, all the gangs seem intent on filling the vacuum.’
‘Hospitalised?’ Maddie said. She tried to keep her voice level. She’d barely heard a word since that one. It didn’t have to mean much of course; these days, hospitalised could be a sprained wrist or a funny turn. But she knew the Yarwoods; she certainly thought she knew Adam well enough. He would have to be dragged to one of those places — or taken there without his knowledge. She bowed her head, waiting for the superintendent to expand.
‘Hospitalised, yeah. He’s in a bad way apparently. Beaten half to death over a plastering contract if you believe the stories around it!’
‘Plastering?’ Maddie’s head snapped up. Suddenly she felt her breath leave her body, her heartbeat quicken.
‘Plastering. The brother, unfortunately, but it’ll have to do. He turned up in King’s Hospital with his skull caved in. They’ve got a group in for it. Seems he muscled in on some contract for a new office block. A lucrative contract for a real plasterer — no idea what a drug dealer, using plastering as a front, wanted with it! Seems he bit off more than he could chew anyway. This other crew beat him round the head with baseball bats. Who knew plastering was so competitive! I’ve called a surveillance team in. Leon Yarwood is due to head down with his mum on Monday, and I think they said his sister. Is there a sister you know of?’
‘Sister . . . Yeah, there is,’ Maddie murmured. She had been in the same room as her on a couple of occasions. Hateful woman. All designer labels in pastel pink and sunglasses indoors. Never worked a day in her life and leeched off her drug-pushing brother.
‘Sister it is then. Leon’s out of the country at the moment. We have him in Spain but making his way back. One source says he fled there after some threats were made. I spoke to the medical staff at Kings . . . his brother’s in an induced coma. They can’t assess him properly until the swelling’s down or something. I say switch him off now — save the electricity bill!’ The superintendent chuckled.
‘Adam . . .’ Maddie’s voice was still a shocked whisper.
‘Adam Yarwood, that’s it! Couldn’t remember it for the life of me! He’d dropped right off our radar. We had no idea he was even out of the county. The running theory is he has some bit of stuff on the go down south. He was found with an engagement ring in his pocket. A receipt, too. From the same day. Whoever she is, she certainly dodged a bullet! I’ve got a meeting up here later today to see how we manage the fallout. We’ll need to get behind Leon and his family in case of repercussions. We plan to pick him up from the airport. The offenders have no confirmed links to the drug world, but it’s a line of enquiry the Met have taken on. Of all the dangerous people his brother could upset, he ends up with his skull smashed in by a group of labourers with baseball bats! Karma can be a bitch I suppose.’
Maddie could feel the emotion welling up through her. She wanted to scream out, to stop the car. She wanted to run. She couldn’t be here — she needed to be anywhere else.
‘Maddie, you okay?’ The voice this time was the bassy tone of Harry Blaker. He was leaning round from his position in the front. She managed a jerked nod, she pointed at the phone. Harry lingered for a moment, but he did turn away.
‘Sorry, boss, we’re just about there. I’ll get back to you.’ She had to squeeze the words out from a throat that felt like it was tightening with every passing moment. She ended the call before he could make any response. Harry’s head appeared again.
‘Anything we need to know about?’
Maddie cleared her throat. It didn’t feel any looser. ‘No. Manchester. They’ve got a job for me if I want it. That’s all.’
‘And that’s terrible news, is it?’ Harry said.
‘No, no!’ Maddie somehow managed to sound brighter. ‘I just don’t need anything else to think about right now.’
‘You’re right. We’re here and we need to be focused.’
Maddie stuffed the phone back in her pocket. Then sucked in a lungful of air. She was here for Grace. She would deal with one person at a time. They pulled into a car park with numbered bays and she saw that two firearms cars were already parked up. Both cars were silent and empty; their occupants would already be sweeping the building.
Maddie stepped out and took time to run her eyes over the building. It was bland and flat-fronted with windows of different shapes and sizes in what seemed to be a repeat pattern. It was of brick, mainly, but the windows and doors were framed in dark br
own wood — typical of a nineties build. Looking around she assessed they were in a rundown part of Margate, close to a road that was steady with cars. On the other side of this road was an empty car park that led up to a warehouse-style building labelled as a bowling alley, which fitted with what she had been told from mapping. The frontage looked tired: the ‘H’, in Hollywood Bowl had slipped to rest at an angle; the car park was punctured with weeds; the lines marking the bays were mostly rubbed out. She would have assumed it had shut down were it not for the catering vehicle with its door open to a side entrance.
Their chaperone wasn’t long in coming: a tall woman, her sidearm hung on her hip and with her primary weapon, a rifle, across her front at an angle.
‘Hey!’ she called out, cheerily.
‘Hey,’ Maddie said. Her eyes had glazed, her attention drifting elsewhere for a few seconds. She scolded herself mentally; she needed to focus.
‘The building is clear. We’ve knocked everyone up and we got to speak to someone in all but two flats. One of them we’ve been able to ascertain isn’t occupied. The other one was the address we were given . . .’ The woman reached for her notebook.
‘Number 6?’ Maddie said.
The woman nodded. ‘Yeah. In the circumstances we have forced entry. There’s no one there.’
Maddie let out a breath. She tried to consider what that information meant. Grace wasn’t there. But she must have been there and she had been concerned enough to press her panic alarm.
HE WILL KILL YOU an absolutely gripping crime thriller with a massive twist Page 26
