Miss No One

by Mark Ayre

  No one else did. Christine rose and kept her feet well as she moved to the kitchen. Such was the benefit of regular heavy drinking sessions—increased immunity. While she poured another glass, Ana tapped her own, still half full, and gave Abbie a meaningful glance. Abbie nodded and hoped her eyes expressed that Ana should leave it well alone.

  Ana nodded in return.

  When Christine came back with her fresh glass, she said, "If you don't believe Leilani would work at Lucky Draw against Idrissa's wishes, what's your explanation?"

  "Obvious, isn't it? The only explanation is that she had his blessing."

  "And why would he give that?"

  There were a couple of potential answers to this question, so far as Abbie could see. The first was that Ndidi was taking bribes from Lucky Draw, as Gary had claimed. In this scenario, Lucky Draw might have insisted Leilani take a job at the casino to ensure Ndidi continued to toe the line. Unhappy with being forced to do so, Leilani might have fought back against her husband and the crooks for whom she now worked by passing incriminating information to a third party. In this case, Christine. This theory made sense of why Orion would kidnap Isabella as taking her might give him access to a police detective and any valuable information on casino workings acquired by Leilani or Ndidi.

  Though that theory fit, Abbie leaned towards an alternative solution that was brewing in her mind. As she did not want to believe option A and wasn't yet sure about option B, Abbie decided to divulge neither scenario.

  "I don't know," she said instead. "But if Leilanli did have her husband's blessing, then he's been lying to people by telling them she left him and Isabella. He must know she's dead."

  Which, again, didn't prove corruption. If the owners of Lucky Draw had discovered Leilani's betrayal and murdered her as punishment, Ndidi might keep that quiet for fear they would come after him as well, should he reveal he knew what they did. As Ndidi had told Abbie, he wouldn't want to leave Isabella parentless, or worse, risk Lucky Draw punishing his child for his wife's transgressions.

  That Ndidi had not vanished along with his wife might suggest he was not working for Lucky Draw. Would they not have believed he was colluding with Leilani in investigating them otherwise?

  Unless he was the one who discovered his wife's betrayal, and he was her executioner.

  That was a theory Abbie was keen to park for now. To move away from it, she turned to the anxious Christine.

  "I'm guessing it would make no difference if I said you are not responsible for whatever happened to Leilani?"

  "Correct."

  "Okay, but you're not responsible. Leilani knew what she was getting into, and it isn't her fault either. If someone killed Leilani, the fault lies purely with Leilani's killer and with whoever ordered the murder."

  "I was right," said Christine. "That didn't help."

  "Of course not," said Abbie. "But it was important to state anyway. You suspected Hammond of killing Leilani?"

  The fast move on was intentional. Guilt was like quicksand. If you dwelled in it for more than a few seconds, it started to pull you down. Pretty soon, you realised there was no escape.

  Christine shrugged. "Maybe he discovered what she was up to. Either way, I doubt it was he who ordered her murder. More likely, Leilani's employers. She was watching them. I was watching Hammond."

  "How closely?" asked Abbie. The question wasn't particularly subtle, and Christine picked up on Abbie's meaning immediately.

  "I was keeping a close eye on him until Leilani went missing. After that, I became borderline obsessive. I had to sleep, but whenever I could, I was on his tail. I took stupid risks. It was amazing he never realised and confronted me."

  Especially if you were drinking as much while tailing him as you are now, Abbie thought, as Christine polished off another glass of wine.

  "It was just over a week after Leilani disappeared that someone killed Hammond in a home invasion," said Christine. "That was the point of your question, right? You want to know if I saw anything. More than that, you want to know if I was involved."

  Abbie spread her hands. She wasn't going to be bashful. "Were you?"

  "I wasn't, nor did I see anything. Believe it or not, I was having one of my rare spells of sleep while someone was breaking into Hammond's home and murdering the corrupt cop."

  Abbie didn't know whether she believed this or not but would take the claim at face value for now. After all, this exchange was about trust.

  "Presumably," said Abbie, speaking with some caution, not wanting to rile Christine, "Hammond's death could have been your golden ticket. He was the man you were sent to investigate. His death must have marked the end of your job."

  Again, Christine was looking into her empty glass. Frustration spread across her face like a fast-developing rash.

  "The young are idealistic," she said, parroting her earlier comment. "That definitely applies to me. All I ever wanted was to become a cop, and I wanted to become a cop because I wanted to help people. As far as I'm concerned, people who abuse their police position are worse than the criminals they protect. I forgot that for a time while I was here because I was so desperate to go home. I became content to find enough information to put Hammond and Davesh away. I suspected there were more corrupt officers in my sight, but I was happy to let them go if it got me home to my boyfriend and family."

  "Understandable," said Abbie. "But I'm guessing that changed when you spoke to your superior officer after Hammond's death."

  Christine's look of frustration turned to one of anger. "They called to say they were pulling me out. They'd let a few weeks pass, so no one suspected my departure was linked to Hammond's death, but as far as they were concerned, it was job done."

  Looking into her empty glass again, Christine half rose, preparing to cross the room and get a refill. Then the need to finish talking overcame her, and she fell back into her seat.

  "I asked what was going to happen with my evidence. Know what my superiors said?"

  "Nothing," said Abbie. "By which I mean not that they blanked you, but that they told you nothing was going to happen to your evidence."

  "Spot on," said Christine. "Everything I'd gathered would be filed away. Hammond was dead, so there was no need to upset anyone by revealing the truth of what he had been. Never mind that outing him might have sent a message to other officers; that it might have served as a warning not to follow in his footsteps. No, because we can't afford to upset his family or the people who idolised this corrupt man, we'll brush it all under the carpet. I found that hard to swallow, but what could I do? Nothing, so I asked about Davesh and the hundred grand bribe. Would the evidence I had gathered on the former be used to have the car dealer arrested and jailed before his cut-and-shuts killed someone? As for the bribe, would someone look into what that had been about? What kind of illegal activity could entice crooks to hand such a sum of money to a serving police officer? I bet you can guess what they said to that, as well."

  "That they couldn't use any evidence you had gathered because it might inadvertently reveal what kind of a man Hammond had been," said Abbie. "Then they would have tried to placate you by saying that, without Hammond around to protect Davesh, he would soon be found out and arrested anyway, and that with Hammond's death, whatever he had been paid to do would probably be put on hold and cancelled as well. That's what they would have said, and it wouldn't have placated you at all. I know because it wouldn’t have placated me.”

  Now Christine did stand with her empty glass. "It didn't placate me. It made me sick. It made me hate the organisation I'd wanted to join since I was a child. It made me hate myself, though I know that doesn't make any sense."

  Tears in her eyes, the young detective rushed to the kitchen, yanked open the fridge, and grabbed the wine.

  "I didn't argue," she said as she unscrewed and then all but tore off the bottle cap. "Maybe they would have pulled me out sooner if I had or sent someone to monitor me. I pretended to play ball, and once they'd hung
up, I endeavoured to discover the truth of what Hammond had been up to, root out any other corrupt officers, and get Davesh sent down. I knew I didn't have long, but I was determined. I wouldn't give up, and I was sure I'd get results."

  Abbie was playing the situation through in her mind. They were almost up to date now, to the point where Abbie had arrived in town. Because of that, she decided to start with the third of Christine's three objectives.

  "You still couldn't get anyone interested in investigating Davesh?"

  Christine shook her head while tipping the bottle towards her glass. Wine slopped onto the counter as it sloshed free. Christine didn't seem to notice.

  "No chance," she said. "It was exactly as I feared. No one was willing to discredit Hammond, so his influence remained. He'd convinced enough people Davesh was clean that no one was interested in listening to my evidence, compelling as it was. This wasn't just the corrupt cops either. It was everyone.”

  Which led Abbie neatly onto point two. "And did you find many other officers on the take?"

  "No," said Christine, replacing the cap on the wine bottle, having forgotten this time to offer around the drinks. "A couple of uniformed officers and another detective. DS rank. That's one above me, but one below Ndidi and two below Hammond and Kilman. Hammond was the big fish."

  "These uniformed officers," said Abbie. "Evans and Franks?"

  The wine was back in the fridge. Christine paused a moment, then returned to the living room.

  "I was going to ask how you knew," she said, "But they were the ones you found you with Ndidi, right? They gave false statements?"

  "That's right," said Abbie as Christine sat. She was thinking of Ndidi again. Was this a case of three corrupt officers working together, or was Ndidi innocent. For fear of his daughter being left alone, had he allowed the two corrupt constables to lead him into illegal action?

  “Well, you’re spot on,” said Christine. “Franks, Evans, and a DS Moore are the ones I found. I don’t think any have taken money from Davesh—Hammond’s support was enough for him to stay out of the trouble—but they all take bribes from Lucky Draw. They’re very much in the pocket of the bastards up there.”

  DS Moore. Abbie recognised the name immediately as that of the man who had told Ndidi about Isabella's kidnap. Between him, Franks and Evans, they'd been watching over Ndidi, ensuring he knew what he was supposed to know when he was supposed to know it.

  Except, if these three officers worked for Lucky Draw, why did they seem to be doing the work of Orion? Not only Isabella's kidnapper but a man who planned to rob the casino.

  Had Orion Becker turned the police officers' heads with large sums of cash? Great news for him, if so, but a risky game for the corrupt cops to be playing, betraying their long time and dangerous paymasters.

  Which led Abbie onto Christine’s primary objective: the other corrupt officer, Hammond, and his hundred grand. Had Christine discovered the reason for the DCI's payday?

  "No," said Christine. "Come yesterday, I was despondent. My time was almost up; I was going home. I knew of a few corrupt officers, but they weren't going down. Nor was Davesh, and I had no idea why Lucky Draw had paid Hammond a hundred grand. I was desperate."

  Abbie smiled. "So you threw a Hail Mary?"

  Christine pointed a finger to Abbie: You got it.

  "You broke into Davesh's dealership?"

  "Not my finest hour," confessed Christine. "I knew whatever I found, evidence-wise, would be inadmissible, but I remained convinced the people refusing to investigate Davesh weren't turning a blind eye because they were corrupt, but because they believed Hammond over the insubstantial evidence I was showing them. Breaking in, I thought I could find something so incriminating that it would force my colleagues to take this crook seriously. I wanted to leave town knowing someone was going to get off their backside and investigate this vermin."

  "And if you could find an indication of why Lucky Draw had paid Hammond into the bargain," said Abbie, "all the better. A two birds, one stone scenario."

  "Exactly. Like I said, Davesh and Hammond were close. Maybe more than close. They might even have been best friends. It's hard to tell because they both played down the relationship. Especially Hammond. So, yes, I thought maybe Davesh would have some information which might reveal why Lucky Draw had paid Hammond 100k, but as you know, my Hail Mary couldn't have gone much worse."

  "Because Davesh was dead when you arrived," said Abbie. "Then Orion's people showed."

  "Yeah. Until then, I had no idea another party was involved. As I've probably shown, I didn't have much of an idea of anything."

  With a sigh, Christine drank half her wine and pointed the remainder in Abbie's direction.

  "As it turns out, I throw my Hail Mary too early. You've probably heard that most criminal cases that are going to be solved are solved with the first couple of days. After a 48 hour window, the case gets colder and colder—your chances of solving it lower and lower. Police work is a numbers game, as far as those at the top are concerned. Your experienced, less idealistic officers will try to palm off cases they've been unable to solve early to get the fresh ones. Idealistic idiots like me keep ploughing away even when the situation seems hopeless."

  "But," said Abbie, "it isn't always hopeless."

  "Right," said Christine. "Like I said, it's a numbers game. The odds are against you the older a case gets, but sometimes, when you least expect it, something will happen that causes a cold case to burn red hot. In my case, it wasn't finding Davesh dead or learning about Orion Becker, if that is who's in play here. It wasn't anything I found."

  "It was Isabella's kidnap," said Abbie.

  Somewhat enthusiastically, Christine nodded. It was the nod of someone who had finally fallen into tipsiness and was moving closer to drunk than sober.

  "Suddenly, everyone's on red alert. Everyone wants to find Isabella. Then Ndidi comes in, half in a daze, half determined, and he goes straight to the station head, Superintendant Norris."

  "And tells him," said Abbie, "that the kidnappers want to rob Lucky Draw."

  "That's it," said Christine.

  "And to keep Isabella safe, the police have to stay out of the way."

  "That's what they demanded."

  Raising an eyebrow, Abbie said, "What they demanded?"

  "Yeah, they want to rob the place and make their getaway. Once they're free with the money, they'll release Isabella."

  "But..."

  "But Ndidi suggested something different. He doesn't want to keep the police away."

  Christine leaned forward and lowered her voice, talking conspiratorially.

  "Ndidi suggested a full-scale operation. He doesn't just want to save his daughter. He wants to catch the bastards who took her."

  Twenty-Eight

  Abbie wasn't sure she could have heard that right.

  "Ndidi said that he wanted not only to save his daughter but also to capture the people who took her?"

  "He said the kidnappers had told him to get the police to stay out of the way. This was a case of crooks robbing crooks, which the kidnappers thought should make it easier for the police to accept. But it's not that simple. Not everyone who works with or for Lucky Draw are criminals. For the higher-ups, it's not a question of morals but of PR. What if an innocent dies and the public discover the police knew about the heist and did nothing to prevent it?"

  "So what was Ndidi's suggestion?" asked Abbie.

  "Rather than ignore the raid completely, the police go but stay well out of sight. The heist is due to occur at night, so there shouldn't be any innocents in the building. If there is, and if they appear to be in danger, the police can move in. But all things being well, the heist would take place, and the kidnappers would get away with the money."

  "Which night?" said Abbie, though she was sure she already knew.

  "Tonight."

  Abbie nodded for Christine to go on. She had other questions but was willing to let them lie for the moment.
/>   "Once the heist is complete, the police would follow the kidnappers back to their base. They would confirm Isabella was there then move in. Reclaim the money, arrest the bad guys, save the child."

  "And if the child isn't there?"

  "Let them be until the kidnappers get in touch again. Form a new plan from there."

  Drinking more water, Abbie spent some time with this. More information should bring her closer to her goal, but it seemed the picture was getting more muddled with every new reveal. If a painting of the big picture was forming, it was more Picasso than Van Gogh.

  Most of Abbie's issues had to do with what Ndidi supposedly advocated, but she let these lie again to cover some other points.

  "Ndidi took this plan to Superintendant Norris," said Abbie. "But Kilman quashed it?"

  Christine nodded. "Norris is a political creature who lacks a policing brain. He's also unconfident and has always relied heavily on the DCIs below him. That was Hammond and Kilman. Hammond's replacement is too new to exert any influence, so once Alan Hammond died, Kilman was pretty much defacto boss of the station when it came to difficult strategic decisions."

  "So Norris called in Kilman after Ndidi suggested his plan?" asked Abbie.

  "Yeah, and Kilman immediately rejected Ndidi's idea."

  "What was Kilman's alternative?"

  "He wanted to go in hard and arrest the heisters. They could then use deals, reduced sentencing, to encourage the crooks to reveal Isabella's location. From what I hear, Norris was uncomfortable but ready to sign off Kilman's plan."

  "Until," said Abbie, "someone shot Kilman and left him for dead. Now he's out of the way, Ndid's plan will be put into place?"

  "It sounds like Ndidi wasted no time," said Christine. "He returned to Norris and begged and the Superintendant to reconsider his decision. Norris folded. An hour ago, it was announced a battalion of officers are preparing as we speak. They reckon it's the shortest time frame this station has ever had to throw together an operation of this size and complexity."

  "I bet," said Abbie. "And no one was remotely concerned that Kilman, the one person in the way of Ndidi's plan, was shot multiple times right after he rejected the idea?"