Bad Tidings (6 page)

Henry understood this. SIOs liked to use people they knew and could trust and work with, breaking in newbies bit by bit. Henry was the same, that's why for intelligence issues he always went straight to Jerry Tope.

‘It's a bit hit and miss, though, isn't it, Henry?' Rik whined.

Henry's gaze turned slowly to him. ‘In what way?'

Rik kind of shrugged. From his face Henry could tell he'd had a heavy night and wondered, briefly, if Lisa had fitted in anywhere in the festivities. Henry hadn't a clue where she'd got to.

‘Well, as I understand it, from what little I know of these two murders . . . as Jerry said, they went missing on Christmas Eve-ish, then turned up dead a week later . . . so, y'know . . . what's the plan?'

‘To work the cases as they stand,' Henry said. ‘Two victims related by gunshot wounds and MO . . . plus I want us to be on hand to react immediately to anyone who is reported missing from last night up to New Year's Eve . . .'

Rik's face sagged. ‘Do you know how many . . .?'

Henry stepped in and picked it up for him. ‘. . . how many people go missing over the Christmas period in Lancashire alone? Funnily enough, I do. Last year three hundred and fifty were reported . . . ball park figure.'

‘So what do we do? Check everyone?' Rik said.

‘No, not quite.'

‘So what is the plan, boss?' Tope asked.

‘OK.' Henry sat back – trying to think of a plan. ‘You work from here, Jerry. I want you to look at the two victims we have and see what you can really uncover about what links them. There must be something, and I'm not convinced that Joe did a bang-up job in that respect. He got lazy and distracted because of what was going on in his life.' Henry knew that a murder investigation rarely came up trumps if the SIO wasn't fully committed to it. ‘We know some things, but there must be others like . . . I don't know. That's your job, Jerry. Also I want you to keep an eye on the mispers that come in. Let's see where we are now, discard any that don't fit our victims' profiles and any that are obviously not of interest to us. Rik, you and me will do the follow-up enquiries. In the meantime' – he glanced at Rik again – ‘we do victim family revisits.'

‘On Christmas Day?' Rik bleated.

‘Crime doesn't take a holiday,' Henry said glibly, like an advertising slogan.

Rik shook his head in despair.

Henry looked back at Tope. ‘I've already been into the control room and checked the chief's daily log,' Henry said, referring to the record compiled by the FIM that highlighted the most interesting and unusual occurrences in the county over the previous twenty-four hours. It was done primarily for the chief's information but was also put on the intranet for anyone else to read. ‘There are some mispers who could possibly fit the bill. Check them out first and see what you think, then get back to me. If they're good possibilities as victims, then Rik or me will have a look. Possibility is, though, that if our killer has taken someone, if there's going to be another crime, that is, it's likely that their disappearance won't be remarked on or reported for a day or two, or even later.

‘And while you're on with that, start delving into the victims we already have, like I said before.'

‘Today?' Tope said, still unable to believe he was at work.

‘Yes – today.'

Tope uttered a very hacked off sigh. ‘Till when?'

‘We'll call it a day when I say so,' Henry said – and gave him a superintendent's look.

Tope's lips twitched as though he'd been wired up to a car battery, but he said nothing, just sighed heavily again, big chest heave, head shaking.

Henry's eyes returned to Rik, then flicked back to Tope. ‘There's a coffee machine in the secretary's office, Jerry . . . can you do the honours? There's coffee and everything, even fresh milk.'

Tope blinked. ‘Me? Get the brews?'

‘Yes, you.' He raised his eyebrows with significance and Tope got it.

‘Duh – OK,' he grumbled and left the office.

Henry clasped his fingers in front of him and waited for the door to click shut. He and Rik were left facing each other.

There was an uncomfortable hush.

Then Rik said, ‘Is this the bollocking from big brother?'

‘You know me better than that . . . plus, I don't actually know what's going on, but it's obviously eating you up.'

‘We've split, OK? It's over. That's all you need to know.'

‘Fine,' Henry said. ‘I'm not a relationship counsellor.'

‘So what's this?' Rik made helpless gestures with his hands indicating the office, the location, his presence. ‘Called in on Christmas Day. Is it punishment time? I've split with your sister, so you're pissed off with me?'

It was Henry's turn to heave a sigh. ‘You're here because you're a good jack and I think we need to be ready to move on this. OK, nothing might happen. It's a waiting game. The killings might be over and if so, good. In the New Year I'll kick-start both investigations and work from scratch. But if you think for one moment you're here because you and my kid sister have fallen out of love, then you don't know me at all, Rik. I'm just surprised it lasted this long in the first place.'

‘Thanks for that vote of confidence,' Rik mumbled.

‘Your reputation preceded you,' Henry said. He knew Rik had been a serial womanizer and Lisa was much the same where men were concerned. But Henry had come to think they were a match made in heaven, or thereabouts. They had been scheduled to trot down the aisle next summer, but something had gone seriously wrong. The philandering gene seemed to have resurfaced in Lisa. ‘That said, I'm truly sorry. I honestly wanted it to work out for you both.'

Rik's shrug was noncommittal. ‘Presume she stayed at yours last night?'

‘Presume wrong,' Henry said, and looked thoughtfully at Rik. ‘I take it you haven't heard about our mother . . . hospital and all that?'

Rik frowned. ‘No.'

Henry brought him quickly up to speed, adding that Lisa had been visiting their mother when she'd had her heart attack. ‘But I haven't seen her since, Rik.'

‘I thought she'd been staying at your place?'

‘Not a permanent thing. Sometimes she's there, sometimes she isn't. I always assumed she was back at your flat.'

‘She certainly wasn't there last night,' Rik said. ‘Not when I rolled in.'

‘Which was at . . .?'

‘Three-ish. Probably around at her lover's shag-pad,' Rik said bitterly, doing the speech-mark finger tweak on the word ‘lover's'.

‘Right, whatever,' Henry said, not wanting to get involved, other than to be a brother to Lisa and offer her somewhere to crash if she needed it. ‘I hope you work it out, but you are here because of your skill as a detective, not because I want to punish you, OK? I was up till gone two this morning and, trust me, I don't want to be here either – but I have to show willing.'

‘Point taken, and sorry about your mum. I hope she pulls through.'

‘Thanks.'
She won't
, Henry thought.

The office door opened and Tope reversed in, clutching three mugs of steaming, freshly filtered coffee. He placed them on Henry's desk, then sat down. Henry and Rik grabbed a mug each and sipped the brew gratefully.

‘That's bloody excellent,' Henry said as the caffeine immediately hit the spot.

‘I logged onto the secretary's computer while I was waiting for the machine,' Tope said, ‘and checked the misper figures for this week last year. Three hundred and fifty-two people were reported missing in the period we are interested in. Three hundred and fifty turned up unharmed or at least accounted for, leaving two. One, our victim, David Peters, and another, a girl found dead from an overdose. Mostly they were youngsters who went AWOL after parties. There were about twenty, male and female, in the demographics we're interested in.'

‘I think you can assume much the same number this year,' Henry said. ‘Did you look at last night's mispers?'

Tope nodded. ‘Only quickly . . . my gut is just to keep a watching brief on things . . . a lot could easily roll in hung over or still pissed, tails between their legs. A lot more will be reported towards the end of the day when they haven't rolled in.'

Henry nodded, sipping his coffee. ‘The Christmas rush.' He made a decision and looked at the two murder files. ‘Let's just spend the next hour going over these two files, make sure we're all acquainted with the scenarios, then' – he looked at Rik – ‘you and me will work out strategies for the victims. I'd like to look at the guy from Blackpool – Peters – if that's OK? Just so I'm on hand if my mum needs me.' Rik said that wasn't a problem, he would cover the woman who'd been killed in Blackburn.

Henry's first port of call was to the cardiac unit where he found that his mother was still alive, but sleeping. Leanne was at the bedside, but there was no sign of Lisa. He walked into the small ward and his daughter looked up tearfully, then rose to embrace him. He sat next to her and regarded his mother as he spoke softly to Leanne.

‘Have you seen Lisa?'

‘No, not at all.'

Henry raised his eyebrows.

‘One of the nurses said she wants to speak to you.'

‘OK . . . how long are you staying for?'

‘As long as.'

‘Great Christmas Day,' he said sadly.

‘We still haven't exchanged pressies.'

‘No, but we will. Later, eh?'

Leanne nodded. ‘Jenny's on her way up from Bristol.'

‘Yeah – she texted me. Be great to see her.'

‘Yeah, I really miss her. Just hope she doesn't bring that dink of a hubby with her.'

Henry chuckled. His eldest daughter's choice of mate hadn't gone down too well with Leanne, but Henry knew he was a decent enough chap, just had nothing about him except a dreary job in banking that made him a fortune. What could Jenny possibly see in such a guy?

‘Mr Christie?'

Henry glanced around to see the nurse he'd spoken to the evening before standing by the ward door, the one who'd given him the keys to the empty office. She was back on duty already. She beckoned him and he followed her to her office. She then broached a subject that Henry had been mentally tangling with. A very uncomfortable one.

He emerged drained and dithery, but put on a brave face for Leanne and said he had to nip out to make a phone call.

He dialled Lisa, but the call went straight to voicemail, so he left a short message and also dropped her a text, the gist of both being to call him as soon as possible.

He wondered where she was. No doubt licking her wounds somewhere, or maybe with her new ‘lover' – and Henry imagined Rik's speech marks around the word. Henry needed to speak to her sooner rather than later. There was a decision to make here and he didn't want to shoulder it alone.

He then called Alison and asked if she was still in the vicinity. She was – but getting ready to head back to the Tawny Owl. She wasn't planning on opening the pub at lunchtime, but was going to open up from four until eleven, even though it was Christmas Day. The villagers of Kendleton would need some escape from home. She and Henry planned to have dinner together that evening, but that idea had been put on hold.

‘Can I catch you before you set off?'

Henry told her he was back in Blackpool visiting a witness, but if she fancied getting to the drive-through KFC on Preston New Road for a coffee in ten minutes, that would be excellent.

He dropped back in to see Leanne, who said she was going to stay for a few more hours. He kissed them both and left.

The coffee served by KFC was pretty good. Henry and Alison had one each and sat at a corner table next to the window. The place was doing healthy business.

‘Have you thought about what I asked earlier?' he said.

Alison smiled. ‘It was a hell of a big ask.'

‘You should've seen it from my side of the court.'

‘Did you really, really mean it?'

‘Yes,' he said simply, holding her gaze.

‘I . . . I feel like I'm teasing you,' she said.

‘It's something you need to think about, I get that. Lots of things to consider, not least of which is the age difference.'

‘That's bollocks and you know it.'

‘Whatev—'

‘But that's not all you wanted to talk to me about, is it?'

‘No.'

‘Something concerning your mum?'

He nodded.

‘DNR?' she guessed.

He nodded again. Do Not Resuscitate. ‘Jeez,' he said painfully and rubbed his tired eyes. ‘If it ever becomes an issue, which it will if her heart packs up again – which it will – does she get pounded and electrified again? Or do we let her die with some dignity?'

He looked past Alison at the main road, feeling stupid as his bottom lip quivered. He inhaled a steadying breath. Alison reached across and laid her fingers on his arm.

‘Has your mum ever talked about it at all?'

‘No. She thought she'd live for ever . . . she might. But what do you think?'

Alison paused thoughtfully. ‘It might be her time to go, love. Sometimes keeping people alive is done just for the sake of others, not for the good of the person in the hospital bed.'

‘Yeah, I mean what the medical staff did was fantastic. I know they don't want to lose people, but it was so . . . degrading, almost.' He shook his head at the vivid memory of the doctors and nurses working on his mother's body. ‘Crikey,' he laughed, ‘it's a tough one.'

‘You need to talk it through properly with a consultant, not a nurse. It's all about quality of life . . . what are the chances of her ever going home and living any sort of a normal existence? If it's a good chance, then OK. If not . . .'