Hanson glowered. “Should they?”
“Stop bullshitting me. Two people died. They’re the locations of McDermott’s, The Silver Mirror and Vixen.”
“That doesn’t prove anything.”
“No” Whyte conceded. “But the testimony of the man who was using that phone does. My colleagues picked him up in the Tanners Arms last night and he’s singing like a karaoke-lovin’ canary. McDermott’s, The Silver Mirror and Vixen have been paying the Blackburns for aeons. I believe you ordered the fires as payback for the murders of your associates in Frankland. You wanted to hit them in their wallets, where you knew it would really hurt.”
Hanson looked back over his shoulder. Whyte didn’t know if he was considering making a bolt for the back door or if he was about to release Gazza.
“Don’t even think about it,” Whyte urged, covering both bases. “Mr Hanson, I am arresting you for arson and manslaughter.”
The two back up officers moved in and wrestled a struggling Hanson into handcuffs while Whyte finished reading Hanson his rights.
As he was led away to an awaiting patrol car, Whyte turned to Boyd. “You want to give him the good news?”
She brightened and opened her mouth but quickly changed her mind, fear getting the better of her. “I’ll let you,” she told Whyte.
Whyte would spend time later wondering why she was so skittish, but for now, he relished passing on some information to Wayne Hanson.
“Mr Hanson, a lovely lady from the National Crime Agency can’t wait to meet you. She took an overnight train and will be at the station in time for your arrival.”
As well as the NCA, a team from the North East Regional Special Operations Unit—who went by the rather rubbish acronym NERSOU—would also be waiting. Still, they weren’t the only ones who wanted a piece of Hanson. News vans from the BBC, ITV, Sky and Channel Four would be clamouring for the best view of the front of HQ. Someone bearing an uncanny resemblance to Saffron Boyd had tipped them off.
- Chapter 23 -
George grinned as he was led away. Cooper had seen her fair share of Cheshire Cats in cuffs. Some smiled in bravado, a way of covering their fear of jail and what awaited them. Others gave evil smirks, trying to force fear upon the arresting officer. “Wait until I get out. I’ll have some fun with you,” one predatory man told Cooper back when she was new to the force and Whyte had left her alone with a suspected rapist to chase down his accomplice. And some smiled because, frankly, they were off their rockers. George’s smile was new to Cooper and she strongly suspected it was a smile of relief. He’d done what he had to do to protect Charlene and his family, and now they were free of their overbearing father, and he was free of the secret he’d been carrying. Nothing about jail could scare him as much as his father had.
Once the car pulled away and the sound of its engine faded to nothing, Cooper pulled her attention back to the remaining Blackburns. There were looks of shock on all their faces.
“I don’t believe it.” Charlene was holding a folded tea towel over her face and breathing through it as a way to stop herself from hyperventilating.
“The scrawny geek’s got some balls on him,” Theo said. “But that was attempted murder. You said so yourself,” he turned to Cooper. “George didn’t shoot anyone. His balls aren’t that big. He hated guns. Almost pissed himself when I took him on a pheasant shoot when we were teenagers.”
Cooper pulled her lips in and looked to the floor. Part of her didn’t want to do this, but a more significant part knew it was her job and the right thing to do. “You’re right. George didn’t shoot Fletcher.” She looked up. “I think it’s time we got Lily out of the shower.”
Theo froze, his mouth slightly ajar and his eyes narrowed to slits. “What? You’re joking?” He shook his head.
“I’m sorry. I’m not.” Cooper asked Tennessee and Martin to wait with the others while she and Keaton, as the female detectives, followed the sound of running water.
The stairwell was a mix of modern and old. The original stone steps were adorned with a handrail made of chrome and glass. The walls were decorated with Georgia O’Keefe prints in black frames with thick white mounts. All lilies, Cooper noted.
“Lily?” Cooper knocked on a bedroom door. “Lily, it’s DCI Cooper. I’m coming in with DS Keaton.” Lily’s room at Budle Bay was markedly different from her room at Morshaw. At Morshaw the room was fit for a princess. Girlie. This room was more for a queen; it was tasteful and grown-up. The room was neutral with accents of teal. It featured a king-sized bed with a padded headboard, its sheets still crumpled from last night’s activities. A velveteen chaise longue was pointed towards a window with a sea view, and an antique dresser sat flush against the opposite wall.
“Nice,” Keaton muttered.
“Lily?” Cooper called again. She stood at the door to the en suite. It was ajar and swirls of steamy air were pouring through the gap. She glanced through the opening. The glass surround of a large shower cubicle was speckled with water droplets, but beyond the glass, as steamy as it was, there was no movement.
“Shit.” Cooper burst into the en suite, knocking over a bottle of perfume and tripping on a pile of clothes. The perfume bottle shattered, sending its over-powering fruity scents into the air. Cooper raced to the window where two words were scrawled onto the pane in rose-coloured lipstick: I’m sorry.
“She’s gone,” Cooper growled. She lowered the toilet lid and climbed up, using it as a step. Pushing open the window as wide as she could, she scanned the surrounding country lanes, fields of sheep and grass-covered dunes. “LILY!” she yelled, but there was no sign of the youngest Blackburn.
In the bedroom, Keaton pulled her handheld radio from her belt and quickly dispatched instructions to the units in the area. She looked out the bedroom window, angling her head to the courtyard. “The cars are still there.”
“She went on foot,” Cooper said as she jumped off the toilet lid and raced toward the stairs, skidding in the pool of perfume and gagging as the fragrance found its way into her mouth and eyes. “There’s a tree branch under the window. Easily thick enough to take her weight.” When she reached the kitchen, Theo was her first target. “Where is she?”
“What?” Theo looked taken aback.
“Lily. Where did Lily go? Tell me now or—”
Cooper didn’t get to finish her threat.
“What do you mean, where is she? She’s upstairs.” He pointed to the ceiling.
“No, she’s not.”
Theo ran towards the stairs to check for himself. Satisfied that the upstairs of the house was empty, he returned and made for the front door.
“Not so fast,” Cooper warned. “Stay here with DS Daniel. Jack, find out what he knows. Martin, you’re with me.”
“I— I don’t know anything. First, you tell me Lily killed Uncle Fletcher. Now you’re saying she’s run off and I that know where—”
Cooper ignored Theo and scrambled to the courtyard where a handful of officers awaited her. Dylan Blackburn followed, pulling a pair of grubby trainers onto bare feet and sliding his thick arms into the sleeves of a knitted jumper.
“Stay with your cousin, Dylan.”
“Not a chance.” He locked eyes with Cooper, and she knew in an instant he wouldn’t be persuaded without the use of force, and she would need a truckload of force to restrain a man like Dylan Blackburn. “My Mum’s gone, my dad’s dead, brother’s going to jail. I need to hear from Lily what happened.”
She nodded—like he would take any other answer—and called for Keaton. “Paula, the units in Waren Mill and Bamburgh?”
“Roadblocks are ready. They have Lily’s description and will radio if they see anyone who even remotely looks like her. There are local units on their way to provide assistance as well. I’ve sent a photo of Lily to their sarge.”
“Good. Have them check the caravan sites and campgrounds. Right, she’s probably avoiding the main road. Paula, Martin, take four men and head inland.
The rest of you, Dylan, we’ll follow the coastal route. Leave no stone unturned.”
Keaton instantly took charge of her team. They took off at a quick pace and split into pairs to cover the trails that Keaton pointed out.
“Dylan, are there any outhouses on the property? Sheds? Somewhere Lily could hide?”
He scanned about. “Yeah, there’s a shed in the back garden and an old den we made when we were younger.”
Cooper pointed to one of the uniforms. “Go check them out.”
The rest of them headed down a country lane towards the sea. They peered over stone walls and squinted into dense bushes. Cooper constantly surveyed the horizon, her eyes programmed to pick up the first hint of movement. Not wanting to spook Lily, she moved quietly and refrained from calling her name. “How’s your relationship with Lily?” she asked Dylan as they reached the edge of the dunes.
“I call her a spoiled brat; she calls me a dickhead. But,” he paused, looking about, “I try to look out for her, and she doesn’t talk to me like I’m a fucking idiot.”
“Is she scared of you?”
He shook his head. “No. She might be the only God-damned person in the world who sees past what I look like.”
Cooper’s eyes started to sting. She blinked back a tear. Now was not the time to feel sorry for a criminal, even though that was precisely how she was feeling. “Call for her,” she whispered. “She might show herself for you.”
Dylan moved through the dunes calling Lily’s name. Not too loud, not too urgent. His heavy feet sank into the sand as he walked and even Cooper, who was considerably lighter, felt her legs being sapped of energy with each step that she took in the loose sand. When they reached the beach, Dylan turned to her. “North or south?”
Picturing a map of the area in her mind, Cooper tried to place herself in Lily’s shoes. “The tide’s in. If she went north, she’d either have to cross the estuary or stick to the roads. Either way, the unit at Waren Mill will spot her. I say we head south. Keep covering the dunes and move towards the holiday cottages, she could be sheltering there.”
They turned south, spreading out to cover as much ground as they could. “Tucker?” she called to a uniform. “Head down to the beach. Check any caves. There’s a couple of boats down there too. Give them a once over.”
“Ma’am,” he replied, turning away and heading to the shore.
The worn path had shrubs to one side and dunes to the other, but even the heady scent of salty air mixed with heather couldn’t cover the perfume seeping through Cooper’s clothing. It made her feel sick. She pulled her jacket off, discarded it on a rock and shivered, for although the sun was up, it had yet to warm the sea breeze. Dylan continued to call for his sister, leaving long gaps between calls so they could listen for a reply or the sound of footsteps. Tucker neared a stone pier that jutted out into the estuary and looked up the steep bank to Cooper. She pointed towards the pier, wanting him to check both sides as well as the pieces of rock that had crumbled away.
Where was she? The only signs of life were the seagulls above and the wading birds below. Cooper withdrew her radio and touched base with Keaton. “Any luck?”
“Nothing yet, boss.”
Ahead, a flat area of concrete was partially consumed by green ferns and nettles. It looked out of place amongst the unrelenting natural coastline that surrounded it. As Cooper approached, it dawned on her that it wasn’t simply a flat piece of concrete: it was a roof. A structure was built into the dunes with small, circular openings drilled into otherwise solid grey walls. She’d found the World War II gun encampment. Cooper and Dylan exchanged a look, nodded to each other and approached the entrance. The building was small, only a few metres across, and it was slowly being reclaimed by nature. Patches of grey concrete were turning green from microscopic plant life.
“Lily?” Dylan whispered. “Lily, are you in there?”
They entered the dark space. The only light came from a panoramic hole that framed a perfect view of the estuary and its pristine white sand. In the distance, Holy Island towered out of the waves of the North Sea. A circle of round metal pegs poked out of a mounting plate where an enormous gun would have once sat, protecting the northeast from invading forces. Cooper turned around in the gloomy room. Under a solid concrete shelf, a shivering Lily Blackburn crouched, holding a broken bottle to her neck.
- Chapter 28 -
The sharp edge of the bottle pressed into Lily’s pale flesh. It hadn’t cut through a major vein or artery, but it had pierced the skin. A rivulet of scarlet blood ran down her neck and chest. Her face was deathly white, except for some yellowing under one eye and on her jaw. Her pupils were twice the size they’d normally be. The youngest Blackburn shivered, wearing only a thin set of silky pyjamas and white socks that were now soaked through and stained with mud and grass. Cooper spied further cuts and grazes on her shins and forearms.
“Stay back,” Lily blurted, pressing the glass firmly into her neck, causing the blood to flow quicker.
“It’s okay, Lily.” Cooper spoke calmly and took a step back to avoid crowding the frightened girl. “You look cold. I can get you a blanket.”
Lily shook her head and sniffed, “I want Theo.”
Not wanting Lily to harm herself further, or end up taking her own life, Cooper radioed for Tennessee and asked him to bring Theo as quickly as he could. “Arrange an ambulance,” she added quietly. “No sirens.”
“Is he coming?”
“He’s on his way,” Cooper assured her. “Please, Lily. You’re freezing. Do you want your brother’s jumper?”
Lily’s eyes darted back and forth between Cooper and Dylan. Eventually, she nodded. “But stay there,” she warned him.
Dylan stayed where he was, removed his jumper and tossed it onto the floor a foot or so from where Lily sat. She pulled it towards her using her foot. “I don’t want to go to jail. I can’t.”
“Your family will do everything they can to stop that happening, Lily.” Cooper kept her distance but crouched down so she could be eye-level with Lily.
Dylan nodded. “Of course. Whatever happened, we’ll fix it.”
The Blackburns had good lawyers. They needed to with the sort of things Eddie and Fletcher had got up to over the years.
“And if I’m right about what I think happened,” Cooper continued, “I’ll try my best to help you as well.”
Lily looked surprised.
“I’m serious. I’m not here to frame you or paint you in a bad light. I promise you that. I only want the truth. I’ll be fair, and importantly, so will the judge.”
The bottle moved ever so slightly. There was a noise at the entrance to the bunker before Theo edged his way in. For someone who was usually so cocksure and arrogant, he looked nervous.
“What happened, babe? Jesus, you’re bleeding.”
He moved forward, saw her shaking arm holding the bottle to her neck and froze. He raised his hands and stepped back.
Dylan wrapped his arms around himself. “You wanted Theo. He’s here now. So how about you put the bottle down and he can give you a hug and then we can get you somewhere warmer.”
Lily wavered, but the glass remained pressed into her skin.
Cooper looked up at Theo and Dylan. From her crouched position, they looked even bigger than usual. “She needs medical attention, but we can’t do anything while she has a weapon. I can’t risk her hurting herself.”
Theo looked like he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the right words. Dylan took a deep breath. “Come on, Lil. Put the bottle down. You heard the detective; she wants to help you.”
“That’s right,” Cooper said. “I’m not going to rush over and arrest you.” She looked back to Theo. “Has the ambulance arrived?”
He nodded.
“Could you ask for some blankets?”
Theo left. Cooper was freezing, Lily more so, and now Dylan had given up his jumper, Cooper suspected he was also suffering from the cold of the morning. Wh
en Theo returned, he was carrying a pile of green fleece blankets. Cooper reached up and took two. One for herself and one for Lily. “Here, put this round you.”
Cooper shuffled a little closer to Lily and tilted her head at Dylan. Slowly, he joined them and sat himself down next to his sister. He opened his hand and she slipped her free hand into his. It looked so tiny, almost doll-like, in Dylan’s shovel-sized palm. He closed his fingers around hers and squeezed gently.
“No one’s going to rush you, Lily,” Cooper told her. “No one is going to grab you or try to wrestle the bottle from you. I don’t want you or your brother to get hurt, okay?”
Lily blinked but said nothing. Tears began to stream from her eyes; a translucent version of the red that flowed down her neck.
“Right, I’m going to start at the beginning, and I want you to stop me if I go wrong.” Cooper swallowed nervously. “You had a very sheltered upbringing. You couldn’t date who you wanted to,” her eyes flicked to Theo, “you couldn’t work where you wanted to. You were expected to cook and clean and take care of the men in your family. But that wasn’t the life you wanted. You wanted…fame? Fortune?”
“No,” Lily said with a sniffle, lifting her eyes from the grubby floor of the bunker. “I didn’t want to be a celebrity or anything. Not really. I just wanted… more.”
“But nice clothes and likes on social media made you feel good? They validated you.”
She nodded. “I guess.” Further tears snaked down her flushed cheeks.
“That’s nothing to be ashamed of. It’s normal. But a part-time job at a beautician’s didn’t pay for the labels you like to wear. I know you call yourself an influencer, and I might be older and more out of the loop than people your age, but I’m no dinosaur either. I had a look at your account; you have less than a thousand followers. I doubt anyone is gifting sunglasses worth over eight hundred pounds to an account with those numbers. You bought those glasses yourself, didn’t you?”
Roll The Dice (DCI Cooper Book 3) Page 18
