The Death of Me

by Natalie Hames

  Jason threw his head back and laughed, setting Phil a little off balance. He had already disclosed more than he had intended and he inwardly kicked himself at revealing his plans to quit.

  “You really think they’ll just let you go? They’re everywhere.”

  Phil felt an icy flush run down the centre of his back. The whole point of leaving the police was to be free of the organisation’s hold on him and the prospect of it not working was something he hadn’t considered.

  “We’ll see,” he replied, uncertainty now tainting his confidence and giving his words a slight wobble of weakness.

  He left the washroom, not giving Jason chance to say any more and headed back to his seat. The situation was becoming crazier by the day and his mind whirled as he tried to figure out if Jason really was undercover, or if it was a bluff to side track him away from the truth. The missed promotions, the humiliation of his detective work being discredited was all down to Jason and he found it nearly impossible to believe an undercover operation would allow it to happen. Surely he would have been reassigned or included in the sting, not made a scapegoat?

  What a pack of lies. The sooner I’m gone from this place, the better.

  The confrontation with Jason only made him more determined to set up his new business venture but the thought of Grace Dalton still being alive haunted his thoughts. Eventually, five o’clock arrived bringing with it the end of his shift. He grabbed his coat and left without delay, heading straight for his car without stopping and set off weaving his way through the traffic to meet his brother. They had arranged to meet for after work drinks at one of Guy’s favourite wine bars in Shoreditch. It wasn’t the sort of place Phil usually visited and the prospect of rubbing shoulders with young socialites obsessed with their City jobs made him cringe, but the drive gave him extra time to reflect on his meeting with Jason.

  If it was true. If Grace was still alive then Jason must know where she’s being held. The men’s washroom wasn’t the place to be doing in-depth investigations but he knew he would have to create an opportunity for them to continue the discussion. The conversation had triggered his mind into detective mode, making it impossible for him not to dig deeper into Jason’s revelation. As much as he hated the man there was a sincerity in his words which had left Phil with a nagging element of doubt.

  Suddenly, a shiver ran up his spine. If Jason was telling him the truth and he was indeed working under cover, he had disclosed his name during the interrogation to Baranski and Montague . Had he misread the situation and inadvertently blown Jason’s cover?

  Chapter Thirty Two

  The place was already serving bottles of the best Champagne when he arrived and the sound of laughter and clinking glasses were clearly audible as he made his way down the steps to the low-lit basement bar. He scanned the room as he entered, looking for Guy’s distinctive blonde hair towering a good three inches above the small crowd and he spotted him over by the end of the bar chatting up an expensive looking blonde. He sighed as he walked over, inwardly judging Guy’s never ending flirtations and affairs.

  “Phil, over here.”

  Guy’s hand raised into the air to beckon him over and he masked his disapproval as he approached and greeted him warmly. He needed this loan and had no intention of rubbing his brother up the wrong way and leaving empty handed. He stretched out his hand and Guy shook it then draped his other arm around his shoulders.

  “This is my brother, Phil. He’s a detective so be careful what you say,” he said to the glamorous blonde as she sipped her drink from the sugar rimmed flute glass.

  “Hello,” he greeted her politely, offering to shake her hand.

  “This is…”

  Guy paused as he tried to recall her name.

  “Christina.”

  The woman finished off his sentence, undeterred by Guy’s lack of recollection as she returned Phil’s handshake with a limp but perfectly manicured hand. After a few minutes of meaningless chit chat, Guy ordered another bottle of wine and gestured for them to sit over at a quiet corner table. Phil sat himself down and watched as his brother discretely added Christina’s number into the contacts in his phone and kissed both her cheeks.

  “You’ll never change,” Phil said, unable to resist pointing out his behaviour but keeping a jovial tone to his voice.

  “Ha! You’re way off course with Christina,” he replied with a cocky smile. “I’ve just done a large and very lucrative piece of business with her husband on a development in Deptford.”

  “Since when has that stopped you?”

  Guy laughed, as if Phil’s covert criticism was more of a compliment to his powers of seduction.

  “Believe me, even I wouldn’t risk it. Her husband isn’t someone you’d want to cross.”

  Phil shook his head. He didn’t want to know any more about Guy’s dodgy business deals and seedy affairs. There was a time when Guy’s lifestyle intrigued him, how he always managed to stay squeaky clean despite sailing very close to the criminal element of society. Over the years, Claire had forgiven many of his indiscretions, turning a blind eye in exchange for a cushy lifestyle and keeping the family unit together. It had galled him. How their mother had placed him on a pedestal due to his financial success yet he had always tried to walk a straight path and ended up the disappointment. The injustice had crippled him at times, yet he still had a strong affection for Guy, his resentments aimed purely at their mother.

  “I recognise her from somewhere, she looks familiar.”

  Phil frowned as he wracked his brains trying to place where he had seen her, his expression lifting when it turned out the answer.

  “The annual Police Charity Event,” he said, and Guy shot him a look to let him know his voice was a little too loud. “I’ve seen her chatting to the Chief Super.”

  “I doubt it,” Guy said, quickly changing the subject. “Anyway, enough about that. How’s Katherine and my little niece?”

  Phil relaxed as he burst into song about the joy he was feeling being a father and how well they were both doing while Guy listened intently. Despite his weaknesses as a husband, Phil had always admired his brother’s paternal skills and he understood why Claire forgave his indiscretions.

  “Well, you’ve managed to produce the first granddaughter so that’s something you’ve managed to do that I couldn’t,” he said when Phil had finished his update. “I was hoping Leo would have been a girl.”

  Phil gave a sympathetic smile.

  “At least the birth went okay and you can have more.”

  Shame crept over Guy’s face when he realised what he had said, humbled by the contrast between Katherine and Claire’s childbirth. He delved into the inside pocket of his silk jacket and pulled out an envelope, his face lifting as he handed it over to Phil.

  “What’s this?”

  “It’s just a little trust fund for Molly,” he replied, obvious the gift gave him great pleasure. “Both of mine have one and I want Molly to have the same.”

  Phil started to open the envelope but Guy placed his hand on his and told him to wait until he got home, indicating the trust fund was a substantial size.

  “I…I don’t know what to say. Thank you.”

  “Say no more about it,” he beamed. “Anyway, why did you want to meet up? Judging by the look of that file it’s not just a social visit.”

  Guy pointed towards the business plan he had placed on the table in front of him and Phil placed his hand on it ready to push it over. It felt awkward approaching his brother for a business loan straight after he had just given his daughter a trust fund and he danced around the subject.

  “Well, actually I need a bit of help. The job’s not working out very well for me, it’s stressful and depressing seeing murders and hunting for lost children.”

  Guy tipped the last of the wine in his glass into his mouth and started to open the next bottle reaching forward to top Phil’s glass up, but he placed his hand over the top.

  “I’m driving other
wise I would,” he said, politely breaking off from his carefully rehearsed speech. “Thing is, I’m maxed out on my mortgage, overdraft and loan for Katherine’s IVF so the bank won’t touch me.”

  He slid the business plan across the table and Guy opened it up and flicked through it while he continued to drink the wine.

  “Private detective, eh?”

  Phil noticed he wasn’t really paying much attention to the details, just thumbing through the pages and skimming the cash flow forecasts. After a couple of minutes he closed the file, pushed it back across the table and took another large sip of his wine.

  “So? What do you think?” Phil asked, eagerly.

  “What about? You becoming a PI, or leaving your job at The Met?” he replied, casually.

  Phil shifted his weight a little and leant forward to give the discussion a more serious connotation.

  “It’s twenty grand so I can keep the bills paid and do some advertising. It’s not a huge amount for you to lend and I’m not asking you to waive the interest.”

  “Do you seriously think you’d be happy dealing with cheating spouses, day in, day out? You joined the police for the action and to make a difference, not be lurking outside Travel Lodges with a zoom lens.”

  He brushed the business proposal off and Phil prickled as he noticed him repeatedly making eye contact with Christina.

  “Will you concentrate on what I’m asking Guy instead of eyeing up the skirt?” he snapped, bringing his hand down on the table.

  “Look, I’d love to help but my hands are tied,” he replied, looking a little sheepish.

  Phil remained quiet, creating an awkward silence between them and forcing Guy to continue. He would have left it there after his brother’s generous display but it was too important not to pursue.

  “All my money’s tied up in this deal I’ve just done. What with the property development in Deptford and Molly’s trust fund, it’s left me a bit skint, actually.”

  “Bollocks,” Phil snarled. “You’re telling me you can’t scrape together a measly twenty grand for your own brother? You’re worth millions.”

  Guy’s charismatic smile fell from his broad angular face, anger replacing his well-rehearsed and controlled expression.

  “Look, just because you’ve had a run of bad luck doesn’t mean you should quit. Things will get better, I promise.”

  “You don’t know what it’s been like,” he snapped. “Every day, dealing with social drop outs and scumbags most of them wanting to plunge a knife into me.”

  Guy leant across the table so no one would overhear.

  “You think I don’t take risks? If it wasn’t for me, Katherine would be identifying your body.”

  Phil reeled back in shock.

  “What do you mean?”

  He noticed a little fear flash across his brother’s eyes as he shot Christina a quick glance as she leant up against the bar.

  “Just play the game,” he growled through clenched teeth, trying to retain his calm exterior.

  Suddenly, he stood up and smiled as if nothing had happened and opened his arms out to give Phil an embrace.

  “It’s been lovely to catch up. So glad you could make it, do send my love to Katherine.”

  The volume of his voice increased and it was obvious he was putting on an act for Christina’s benefit as he stepped forward and squeezed him in his arms, giving him a brotherly slap on his back.

  “I promise things will get better,” he whispered in his ear as he held him close.

  The journey back home was little more than a blur for Phil. In the space of a day he had gone from feeling relaxed and refreshed to resembling a huge ball of tension and anxiety. All day he had longed to return home, yet now as he sat on his driveway the thought of going inside the house and seeing the look of disappointment on Katherine’s face filled him with dread. He looked to the upstairs window, the curtains firmly closed, and he knew Molly would be asleep. The thought of her laying in her crib by their bed, swaddled in a soft pink blanket triggered the memory of the trust fund and he pulled the envelope out of his pocket. He opened it up and flicked on the light above the rear view mirror to see.

  “Jeez,” he gasped.

  Guilt at asking for the loan swept over him when he saw the amount his brother had invested and he questioned whether he had been too harsh when Guy had refused. He mentally played back their meeting. The woman, the way Guy behaved in front of her as if he was on his guard and the comment about him being dead if it weren’t for him. He had always suspected Guy of sailing a little close to the criminal fraternity with his business dealings but their conversation earlier now left him in no doubt.

  A shaft of light lit up his face and he looked up to see Katherine smiling at him through the living room curtains. His heart sank as he smiled and returned her wave, knowing he had to break the news. Unable to prolong entering the house, he stepped out of the car and went inside.

  “How did it go?”

  Katherine appeared at the living room door, her face glowing with optimism. Phil pinched his lips together to form a hard line and shook his head as he passed her on his way to the kitchen.

  “You’re joking, right?” she said as she followed him down the hallway.

  He knew she was expecting him to crack a smile, unable to keep up the prank but he saw the smile on her face slowly fade as she realised he was telling the truth.

  “Why? What happened?”

  “Say’s all his money is tied up in a big investment at the moment,” he replied, shaking his head as he opened a can of beer from the fridge and poured it into a glass.

  “So what now?”

  Katherine slowly sat down on one of the kitchen chairs, wincing a little from the caesarean wound which was still sore. It was as if the air had escaped from her and she seemed small and deflated. This was the part he had dreaded, letting her down, seeing the disappointment on her face. However hard he tried, he always ended up disappointing the ones he loved.

  “I do have some good news, though.”

  He pulled the envelope from his inside pocket and placed it on the table in front of her.

  “What is it?”

  Katherine pulled out the carefully folded sheets of paper, her expression neutral as she absorbed and registered what she was reading.

  “Wow!”

  Phil felt his mood lift as a broad, beaming smile lit up her face. It was an expression he craved and it made him feel worthwhile. To be the strong one, the provider, the rock.

  “I can’t believe it,” she exclaimed. “Guy’s such a generous man, we must have him and Claire over for dinner. I want to thank him, personally.”

  Phil’s mood took an instant nosedive. The reason for Katherine’s elation wasn’t down to him, it was because of Guy’s success and the feeling of inferiority and walking in his brother’s shadow returned. He watched as she headed for the phone and punched in the number, bubbling over with gratitude when he answered the call, and before he had time to think of an excuse the invitation had been accepted.

  Chapter Thirty Three

  Phil sat quietly at his cubicle and plodded on with the backlog of work which had built up over the time he had been off. He had come to hate the job, but since Guy’s refusal to lend him the loan he needed to break free, the hatred and overwhelming need to get out had reached epic levels. The only consolation was Jason’s lack of presence with his cubicle empty all day, but the knowing he may arrive at any time created a non-relenting tension. Part of him was happy not to have to negotiate him being two cubicles away but the flip side was he burned to know where he was and what he was up to. The threat of poking into the gang’s business weighed heavy on his mind. Katherine and Molly were his world and he had no doubt they would deliver on their promise if he overstepped the mark. The helplessness ate away at him. Would he be able to ‘play the game’ as Guy had told him to?

  Thoughts of Grace Dalton haunted him, even in his dreams. Why is she still alive? Where were they keepi
ng her? There didn’t seem to be a logical answer, but they must have some kind of use for her. The misery her disappearance had caused throughout her family, ripping them apart when Tom had ended up on remand had to be for something. One thing he had learned soon after becoming a detective was organised gangs always had an agenda. They rarely killed people without there being a reason behind it whether it was a failed blackmail attempt or someone blocking their plans.

  As he stared at the paperwork on his desk, he started to think about what motive there may have been behind her kidnapping and if there was any link to the Fletcher case. Was there a commonality? He had searched for the answers in the Fletcher file so many times and drawn a blank but he couldn’t help thinking the answer was right under his nose.

  Grace’s file had been taken down to the Archives Department a few weeks ago as without any fresh evidence the case had been deemed cold and he decided to go through it again from a different view point. Aware the gang were watching him and not knowing who was involved, he decided to make up a legitimate reason for him to visit the archives. Not knowing the identities of the people involved unnerved him, especially when his family was at stake so he spent his time fishing through some of the older cases which he would be able to file away. Eventually, he fell upon a case which had received no new leads in months. The victim was an elderly homeless man who had been found dead in a subway, the death had raised questions of foul play at the time but since no evidence appeared it had been left in the pending tray ever since.

  He gathered the details together and casually made his way down the corridor to the lifts making no attempt to hide the file. Conscious of appearing suspicious, he concentrated on his breathing and keeping his pace at an even, leisurely speed, standing with a bored expression as he waited for the doors of the lift to open. Aware it was fitted with a camera, he forced himself not to glance up at it while he selected the lower ground level. There were cameras in the entrance of the department but he knew once he got past the staff on the desk he would be out of sight.