‘Y
ou wanted to see me.’
Marina had followed Glass into his office. Stood before the desk. He had sat down, looked at his computer screen, checked a file lying open in front of him. Trying to make her feel like a subordinate, she thought. Make himself feel superior. She didn’t have time for his games.
No reply.
She checked her watch, turned for the door. ‘You’re obviously busy,’ she said. ‘I’ll come back later.’
Glass looked up quickly. ‘No, no. We’ll do this now.’
She turned. Waited. His choice of words didn’t fill her with confidence.
‘Take a seat.’
‘I’d rather stand. I’m in the middle of something and have to get back to it.’
Glass had to concede defeat. But it was clear he didn’t like it. ‘As you wish. Now I’m a big admirer of your work, Marina. Excellent. Out there, in the briefing, the conclusions you reached, the empirical evidence you based them on, great. I know a lot of officers in the force can’t see the need for a psychologist, especially a full-time one, on the payroll, but I’m not one of them. It’s the way forward, definitely.’
He sat back. Marina, taking that as her cue to speak, did so.
‘Thank you.’
There’s a ‘but’ coming, she thought. He’s just preparing me for it.
‘However,’ he said.
A ‘however’ not a ‘but’. She raised her eyebrow. Glass didn’t notice.
‘I’m afraid I can’t have you on the team at the moment.’
Anger buzzed inside her at his words. She pushed it down, controlled it. Directed it.
‘Why not?’
He opened his hands as if that explained everything. ‘Because of who your partner is,’ he said. ‘You’re compromised.’
She tried to keep the anger down. Failed. ‘I’m sorry? Because of who my partner is? Would you say that to a male member of staff?’
Glass looked genuinely puzzled. ‘What does that have to do with anything?’
She moved towards the desk, towering over him. ‘You wouldn’t say that to a male member of staff about his partner, because you’d assume he could manage to make decisions and reach independent conclusions without asking the little woman. But obviously you don’t think I can do the same.’
‘I never said—’
‘Doesn’t that sound like sexism to you? It does to me. And I’m sure my union rep would think so.’
Glass looked flustered. Clearly this wasn’t the way he had intended the meeting to go. Marina had the advantage. She pressed it.
‘Is my professionalism being called into question? Am I not doing my job at the level expected of me?’
‘Well, yes … ’
‘Yes. I would think so. Especially as you’ve just sat there and said as much before taking me off the investigation. If you think I’m not capable of doing my job, then fair enough, but—’
The door opened. Mickey entered. He looked between the two of them, sensed the atmosphere.
‘Sorry, sir,’ he said to Glass. ‘I’ll come back later.’
‘You may as well stay, Mickey,’ Marina said, turning to him. ‘Our leader here is just suspending me.’
‘What?’
‘Apparently I’m compromised. Not because of my work, you understand, but because of who I live with. That renders me incapable of working efficiently.’
Glass stood up. Clearly angry now. ‘I only said—’
Mickey cut him off. ‘No. I’m sorry, sir, but you’re wrong.’
Glass looked like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. ‘What? What did you say to me?’
‘Marina is a very valuable member of the team, sir. Highly rated, with a proven track record.’
‘We can get another psychologist in, if that’s what you—’
‘We’ve done that before, sir. It didn’t end well. There’s no other psychologist I’d rather have working alongside me.’
‘Are you questioning my decision, DS Philips?’
‘I suppose I must be, sir.’
‘As your superior officer—’
‘With all due respect, sir, I’m in charge of this team. You put me in charge yourself. And as the leader of this investigation, I want Marina to stay. She’s too valuable to lose.’
Glass stared at the pair of them. Marina saw the anger in his eyes turn to hatred. His hands started twitching. She could well imagine what he wanted to do with those hands.
He couldn’t speak. Too angry. Instead he walked round the desk, pushed his way past and out the door. They watched him stride across the main office and through the double doors. He tried to slam them but they wouldn’t allow it.
Neither of them spoke for a few seconds. Then Marina turned to Mickey.
‘Thank you.’
He smiled, sighing with relief. ‘No problem. I’m not having him get rid of another one.’
‘Good.’
‘But,’ said Mickey with a smile, ‘it’s time to get back to work.’
Marina gave a mock salute. ‘Yes, sir.’
She walked out of the office, back to her own desk.
‘H
ere,’ said Phil. ‘This is the one.’
Phil stood on the pavement outside Donna Warren’s house. Don beside him. They both stopped, stared at it.
‘Looks empty,’ said Don.
‘Yeah.’ Phil walked up the front path. ‘I’ll knock anyway.’
He had phoned Don as soon as he had listened to his voicemail. He couldn’t believe who it was from.
‘Hi,’ she had started, clearly uneasy. ‘It’s … Rose Martin. Detective Sergeant Rose Martin, in case you’ve forgotten, which I doubt you have. Or I should say, Detective Inspector.’ Then a sigh. ‘If that’s actually real. Anyway. I’m … I need to talk to you. About Glass. Brian Glass. He’s your DCI now.’ Another pause while she tried to find the correct words. ‘Don’t trust him. Really. Seriously, don’t trust him. He’s dirty. Bent. And I’ve got evidence. There’s a book. It’s here. In my hand. It’s … you wouldn’t believe it. The stuff in it. You just … ’ Another sigh. Then a laugh. ‘I can’t believe I’m calling you. You, of all people.’ Another laugh. ‘Considering how much I fucking hate you. And you know that. That’s not news.’ Another sigh. ‘But you’re honest. And I can trust you. And I need someone I can trust.’ She paused again. When she spoke, it sounded like the words were reluctant to come. Her voice small and hesitant. Stumbling. ‘And you did save my life. And I never really thanked you for that. Not with everything … ’ She cleared her throat. ‘Anyway. I’m rambling.’ Then her voice stronger, back to business. ‘Listen. This is important. If you don’t hear from me again, come to this address.’ She gave out the address of the house they were now standing outside. ‘Meet Donna. Donna Warren. Talk to her. She’ll tell you everything. And she’ll have the book. It’s a cheap blue exercise book. You must get it. Read it.’ Another pause. ‘I’m going to call him now. Glass. Give him a chance to explain himself. To turn himself in. It not … ’ A longer pause. So long that Phil thought she must have hung up. When she spoke again, her voice was uneven. ‘Nice knowing you. Well it wasn’t, but you know what I mean.’ Then the sound of the line going dead. Quickly.
Phil had checked the time of the call, tried to remember where he’d been, what he’d been doing. He’d been at the hospital, talking to Samuel. He remembered that Glass’s phone had rung at the same time. He knew who that would have been. Glass had disappeared straight afterwards.
He had phoned Don.
‘Not gone in to work?’ he had asked him.
‘Reckon they can do without me for one day,’ Don had replied. ‘Reckon you might need me more.’
Phil hadn’t answered.
He had met Don on Barrack Street. Played him the voicemail.
‘What d’you think?’ he had asked him.
‘Sounds legit,’ the ex-copper had said. ‘On the level. She wouldn’t have gone to all that trouble of calling you, you especially, if it wasn’t important.’
Phil agreed.
‘And Glass … ’ said Don. ‘I reckon she’s right about him.’
‘How d’you mean?’
‘I’ve got my doubts about him too. Had them for years.’
Phil had stared at him.
‘I was going to share them with you.’
‘When?’ said Phil, bitterness in his voice. ‘When I was older?’
‘Sorry.’ Don sighed. ‘Look, how are you? Bearing up, I mean.’
‘I’m fine,’ said Phil, clearly lying. ‘Jim Dandy.’
‘Maybe we should—’
‘We’ll talk later. Let’s deal with this first.’
He knocked on the door. They waited for a reply. There wasn’t one.
He tried again, harder this time. He received nothing but sore knuckles.
‘Not in,’ said Don.
Phil stepped away from the door, cupped his hands round his face, peered in through the filthy front window.
He straightened up, looked at Don.
‘We’d better break in,’ he said.
M
ickey was back at his desk. Doing what he hated most. Paperwork. Or rather electronic work, as most of the things he was following up were all online.
He had kept his head down after Glass had stormed out, and in the absence of anything else happening, or any other leads to follow up, kept trying to track down the Shaw connection. Find out where it all intersected.
And then his phone rang.
At first he thought it must be Lynn. She probably wanted to tell him what a great night she had had, wondering when they might do it again. He was smiling as he went to answer it.
He took it out of his pocket, checked the screen. Number Unknown. His heart sank slightly, his hopes dashed, his fantasy put on hold. Probably a sales call, he thought, and made to answer it, ready to tell whoever it was that he wasn’t interested and to never call him again.
‘Detective Sergeant Philips.’
That should spook them, he thought. Make them hang up, even.
But it wasn’t a sales call.
‘What’s the matter with you, then?’
Mickey was taken aback. The voice was indignant, angry. But familiar.
‘Sorry?’ he said.
‘Sorry? Yeah, you fuckin’ should be.’
He placed who it was. Stuart. His informant. ‘What should I be sorry for, Stuart?’
‘For all the bloody effort I’ve put in for you, that’s what.’
Mickey was on the back foot, really confused now. Let him talk, he thought, fill him in. ‘Effort?’
‘Yeah, effort. It wasn’t easy finding out all that stuff, you know. Risked life and limb, I did.’
‘What stuff?’
‘What you asked me. You havin’ a thick day or somethin’?’
Mickey smiled. ‘You risked life and limb? To tell me Weaver was probably killed by some Lithuanian hitman?’
There was a pause.
‘What? What the fuck you talkin’ about? Hitman? I didn’t leave no message about no hitman.’
Mickey was interested now. He leaned forward, covering the mouthpiece so the rest of the office couldn’t hear what he was saying.
‘What message
did
you leave, Stuart?’
An angry sigh. ‘I left … You know what I left. You must have got it. What’s the matter? Can’t you work your phone now?’
Mickey took the phone away from his ear, checked the display. Number Unknown. He replaced it.
‘I think we’d better talk, Stuart.’
‘Damn right we should talk. That’s what I’ve been telling you, haven’t I?’
‘When?’
‘Soon as. Red hot, this is. As you should know.’
Mickey was standing up. ‘Usual place. Ten minutes.’
‘Gotcha. And bring your foldin’. You’re gonna need it.’
‘One other thing,’ said Mickey. ‘You calling me on a new phone?’
‘Yeah,’ said Stuart. ‘That’s right. Made of money, me. No, same old phone. You should know, you’ve got my number. Or you’re supposed to have.’
He hung up. Mickey broke the connection, looked down at his phone.
He knew something hadn’t been right with Stuart’s message. It wasn’t just his copper’s intuition; it was something definite.
He sat down again, checked his phone once more, writing down the number that Stuart had just called him on, checking it against the one in his phone’s memory.
They didn’t match.
Mickey sat back, rubbed his chin. Tried to think it through. He checked through all his other numbers, trying to find a match. Nothing. There had to be something. Maybe he’d entered Stuart’s number wrongly. No. Completely different number. And he’d called him on it yesterday. He hadn’t received any calls from Glass, either. All night. Admittedly, he hadn’t had his phone on, but they should have been there when he turned it on in the morning.
No. Couldn’t be.
Not wanting to believe what his intuition was telling him, he took out the business card Lynn Windsor had given him. Checked the mobile number on it against the one Stuart was supposed to have texted him on.
Direct match.
He sat back again.
No. Couldn’t be.
It felt like his whole world had undergone a seismic shift. This finding had taken him – and the investigation – into completely new territory. He had to do something about this, formulate some plan.
But first he had to go and meet Stuart.
Standing up, taking his phone with him, he left the office.
P
hil looked at the lock on Donna Warren’s front door, tried to find a way to open it.
‘Think we’ll have to break it down,’ he said.
‘What, and alert the whole street?’ said Don. ‘Give it here.’
Phil stepped out of the way and allowed Don to move in front of the door. He fished inside his jacket pocket, brought out a small silver object.
‘What’s that?’ said Phil.
‘Lock pick,’ Don replied calmly. ‘We all used to carry them. Back in the day, as you youngsters are so fond of saying.’ He shook his head. ‘Call yourself a copper. You lot, I tell you. Don’t know you’re born.’
It didn’t take him long. Phil stood all the while looking up and down the street, checking for twitching curtains, interfering or challenging neighbours, someone calling the police.
Ultimately he decided they were safe. It wasn’t, he concluded, that kind of neighbourhood.
‘And,’ said Don, ‘we’re back in the room.’
The door opened. The two men entered, closing it quietly behind them.
‘Don’t touch anything,’ said Phil. ‘Don’t move.’
‘And don’t teach your grandmother to suck eggs,’ said Don.
They stayed where they were, just inside the doorway. Phil saw close-up what he had glimpsed through the window. Rose Martin’s lifeless body sprawled on the floor.
‘Oh God … ’
‘She didn’t die easily,’ said Don. ‘They never do,’ said Phil, and sighed. ‘We’re too late. Too bloody late.’
He looked down again. The body had been there a while. It was starting to lose its resemblance to the person it had once been, her spirit having long since departed, turning into something else, just another collection of matter, another organic component of the planet.
‘That phone message,’ said Don. ‘She must have gone to meet him straight afterwards.’
Phil nodded, not taking his eyes off the body. ‘He ran out of the hospital when you turned up. When Lister killed himself.’
‘D’you reckon he did this?’
Phil sighed. ‘I wouldn’t like to think that another officer could be responsible. But … ’ He shrugged. ‘It looks that way. Circumstantially, anyway.’
He kept staring at the body.
‘Poor Rose … ’
‘Thought you didn’t like her.’
‘I didn’t. But that doesn’t mean … ’ Another sigh. ‘I saved her life once.’
‘She said.’
‘Why couldn’t I have done it again?’
Don turned to him. ‘Now don’t start all that.’
‘What d’you mean?’
‘All that blaming yourself. That leads to a very dark place, believe me. And you don’t want to go there.’
You mean again
, Phil said to himself. ‘No. Suppose not.’
‘There was nothing you could have done. She knew that what she was doing was risky. She shouldn’t have done it.’
‘No.’ Still staring. ‘But … why?’ Another sigh. ‘I don’t know. Maybe she couldn’t believe one of her work colleagues was a murderer either.’
‘Maybe. We’ll never know.’
Phil looked up. ‘What about the other woman? Donna Warren, was that her name?’
From where he stood, Don looked through into the kitchen. ‘Don’t think she’s here.’ He turned to Phil. ‘You don’t suppose she did this, do you?’
‘Do you?’
Don didn’t answer.
‘We both know who we’ve got in mind for this.’ Phil scoped the room once more, trying not to dwell on Rose’s body. ‘Can’t see this book anywhere.’
‘How did she describe it?’ said Don.
‘A cheap blue exercise book. Let’s look upstairs.’
They went slowly up the stairs. Careful not to touch the handrails or walls. Don following Phil’s indentations on the stair carpet. They went into the main bedroom.
‘Looks like there’s been a fight in here.’
Don scanned the room. ‘But no book.’
Phil turned to him. ‘You know what I think? We’re not going to find it. It’s not here.’
‘I agree. We’d better go.’
They turned round, made their way downstairs without touching anything once more. At the bottom, Don turned to Phil.
‘I think you-know-who must have it.’
Phil gave a grim smile. ‘You-know-who? Have we jumped into Harry Potter land now?’
Don frowned. ‘What?’
‘Never mind. You’re right. Glass’ll have it by now. We’d better—’
‘Is this what you’re looking for, gentlemen?’
They both turned, startled by the voice. Two men, suited and tied, were standing in the kitchen doorway. One was holding up a cheap blue exercise book in a plastic evidence bag. The other was holding a gun.
The one holding the gun spoke. ‘I think we’d better go somewhere a bit more private, don’t you?’
Phil shrugged. ‘Whatever you say.’
‘Move.’
They moved.