Death Trap (48 page)

‘When I came into the service, policing was a much simpler game. Two cops pounding the beat together, you really got to know the community, understood their needs. And that’s what this is all about – servicing the public. And, of course, taking the bad boys out of action. My dad wanted me to join him in the building trade, but I was interested in another type of building – keeping this glorious city of ours cemented and strong, making sure that its foundations withstood anything thrown at it. And I think that I did that. But I couldn’t have done it without the help of all you good people.’ Someone clapped and the room erupted into cheers and whistles.

When the applause died down, he spoke again; this time his voice was much more sober. ‘I soon learned the importance of teamwork – that there was no way I was going to be able to do this job on my own. I was lucky because my first partner was the best cop there ever was. He walked the beat with me and put his arm around my shoulder when I needed support. It’s his final day on the force as well, so I’d like everyone to give a solid hand to Detective Jack Strong.’

The crowd and Rio turned to stare at Jack. But no one clapped. There was an awkward silence as everyone looked at him. Rio knew that many hadn’t forgotten that fatal trip-up he’d made four years back and the storm that had hit the Met because of it.

Rio tipped her head back defiantly and started to clap. It was a lone sound for a few seconds, then someone else clapped, and another person. Soon the room was back pulsating with whistles and cheers. A few people patted Jack on the back. He turned to Rio and gave her a single nod of thanks.

‘OK, OK, I’m not finished folks,’ Newman shouted from the stage. The pub grew quiet again. ‘I know you’re all eager to find out who will be taking my place. The honour goes to . . .’ A few people looked Rio’s way, but she kept her face straight, the emotions back.

Newman gave them the name. ‘Detective Inspector Paul Mayberry.’

The crowd clapped as Mayberry waved his hand in the air, but there was more than one person who sent Rio surprised looks.

‘Now people,’ Newman said, back in full merry-making mode, ‘let’s party!’

‘I thought it was a done deal,’ Jack whispered to her.

‘It was. I turned it down.’

‘Why the bloody hell did you do that?’

Rio didn’t answer straight away; this had been one of the toughest decisions of her life. She’d thought AC Tripple was going to throttle her when she’d knocked the promotion back. The Assistant Commissioner had asked her why? Rio now gave Jack Strong the same answer.

‘Simple; it’s not my time yet. I don’t want anyone to think this was handed to me because of my colour, gender—’

Jack seemed dismayed. ‘Look all that stuff and nonsense I said to you—’

Rio placed her hand on his arm. ‘It wasn’t you; it was me. I like my job – love the thrill of the investigation,’ she shrugged, ‘and maybe I just can’t see myself sitting all day in an office. When my time comes, I will know.’

Jack opened his mouth, but he never answered because someone slung their arm around his shoulder and dragged him away for a drink. He twisted his head to stare back at Rio. She just smiled and mouthed, ‘Good luck.’

Rio took that as her cue to leave the festivities behind and head for the quiet of home. The air outside was cold, but there was a warm thread in the current that held the promise of a good spring to come.

‘Hey stranger,’ a voice called.

Rio peered in the dark to find Calum sitting in his car, the driver’s window wound down. She might have made a decision about her job, but she hadn’t made one about him. Rio walked slowly towards him. She shoved her hands in her coat pocket when she reached him.

‘You don’t look bad for a man who was at Death’s door not that long ago.’

Calum smiled, drawing Rio’s gaze to the thin scar line around his neck, a permanent memento from the wire the hitman had tried to strangle him with.

‘Nothing keeps me down, not for long.’

‘Well it’s good to see you up and about.’ Suddenly her tone changed. ‘Look if you want to discuss a divorce—’

His smile dropped away. ‘No. Not now. Let’s leave that for another time.’

That was the theme song for their personal life – let’s leave it for another time.

‘I love you,’ Rio blurted out. ‘I don’t know what that really means, but I do know that I hurt when I know you’re hurt. You are one of the best men I have ever known in my entire life. But if there’s ever going to be a chance for a you-and-me you have to tell me why you were made to leave the Met. Why you wouldn’t see me in the hospital after your accident. I’m not asking you to do that now, but sooner or later Calum you’re going to have to bring the truth to my door.’

He stared back at her, the green in his eyes brightening. Finally he spoke. ‘There are things that I don’t want you to know —’

‘What things?’

He shook his head. ‘You’re right. The time’s not now.’

Calum turned away from her and got the engine in gear. A few seconds later Rio stood alone, the decreasing roar of his car the only sound in the distance. She finger-combed her ’fro and then walked towards her car. She had one more call to make before calling it a night.

seventy-four

8:28 p.m.

When Rio saw the house she felt as if she’d come full circle – another house in Surrey, imposing and high-end, just like the Bells’. When she knocked, Mrs Harkins, the mother of Nikki’s friend, opened the door.

‘Detective Inspector Wray,’ the other woman said, a small smile lighting up her face. ‘Nikki has talked so much about you.’ She laughed. ‘Made you sound like a superhero.’

‘Is this a convenient time to see Nikki?’

Mrs Harkins opened the door wide. ‘Of course.’

Rio stepped inside a house that was a home – warmth and the presence of human life all around.

‘I’ll call her down—’

Rio waved her hand cutting off the other woman’s words. ‘I’ll go up and see her, if that’s OK?’

Less than a minute later Rio stood outside a partially opened door, the mellow shade of lamplight seeping onto the landing outside. She knocked.

‘Come in.’

Rio walked in to find Nikki with her iPad, cross-legged on the middle of the bed. She was pleased to see the teenager still wore her fingerless gloves – this pair total black with no frills. There had been a flirty freeness about the way the teen had worn those fingerless gloves, like she was eager to touch and experience so many aspects of life. Rio was glad that at least the girl’s traumatic life hadn’t stopped her still wanting to do that.

‘I just wanted to check that you were OK.’

Nikki twisted her teeth in her bottom lip. ‘Yeah, I’m good. I started school again last Monday. Everyone is being really nice to me.’

‘I meant it when I said that if there’s ever anything you want, you know where to find me.’

‘Is
he
going to go away for the rest of his life?’

‘I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure that Stephen Foster remains inside the four walls of a prison.’

Nikki nodded. ‘I just want to get on with my life.’ Then her face almost crumbled. ‘But I can’t. I see it every day.’ Nikki’s finger touched a spot on her cheek. ‘Can you see it?’

Rio was baffled. ‘See what?’

‘The red mark.’ Rio’s confusion increased; there was no mark. ‘That’s where she spat her blood on me. I see it every time I look in the mirror.’

Shocked, Rio realised what she was talking about – Ophelia spitting blood, with her last breath, on her daughter’s face.
God, if only parents realised how their actions could screw up their children’s lives.

‘Your real parents were Patsy and Frank Bell. They loved you. Ophelia Bell was a woman filled with spite and selfishness. Don’t let her screw up your life. One day soon you’re going to look in the mirror and you won’t see that mark anymore. And do you know why? Because you’re one of the bravest girls I know. You’re too smart to let some evil woman destroy your life.’

Nikki just looked at her as her hand came up. A finger rubbed against the spot where she still saw her biological mother’s blood. Then her hand fell away. ‘I’m going to use Aunt and Uncle’s money to make a good life. A life Mum and Dad would be proud of.’

Rio smiled and nodded. Then turned and was gone.

Nikki flipped up the lid of her iPad and turned back to her Yakkety-Yak conversation.

Madam B:
My favourite music is urban stuff, not that crap about women being bitches & ho’s.

Cheese Twist:
Yeah. Totally get you there hun. OK to call u hun??? Women are goddesses
?
Know what music I like

Madam B:
Head banger rock.

Cheese Twist:
Nope. Classical. All time fav is Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata. Graceful. Beautiful. Lures you into thinking everything in the world is fine . . .

Alternative ending

We rejoin the story with Rio in the final stages of her interrogation of Stephen Foster . . .

10 Hours

Desperately Rio went back over old ground with Foster.

‘Can you tell me why you decided to represent Gary Larkin when you heard he’d been arrested? And it was you who arranged for Gary Larkin and his gang to hide in that oast house in Kent wasn’t it? Once you had the gang cornered you arranged for them to be murdered so it would look like they were killed in our raid. Dead men tell no tales. That’s what happened isn’t it, Mr Foster?’

Foster was still smoking the cigars that his secretary had brought in and left at the front desk. Foster looked pensive before replying, ‘How’s it going, DI Wray?’

‘How’s what going?’

‘Your inquiry? Have your officers uncovered any actual evidence against me yet?’

‘I’ve seen defendants convicted on less circumstantial evidence than I’ve got against you . . .’

Foster nodded with approval. ‘Yes indeed. But that would be ordinary defendants, wouldn’t it, Detective Inspector Wray?’

Rio refused to respond.

Foster sighed. ‘As to your questions, of course there’s the issue of client confidentiality but as the unfortunate Mr Larkin is no longer with us, I can tell you that I advised Gary to go back to his flat and sit it out. I don’t know anything about any oast houses in Kent . . . Unless of course you can prove otherwise?’

The door opened. It was Strong. Rio punched the tape off and left the room. She was surprised to see the Assistant Commissioner waiting in the corridor. Strong left them alone.

‘Cut him loose.’

Rio was furious. ‘He’s a murderer. Worse than a murderer, he got other people to do his dirty work for him. We’ve still got at least nine hours—’

‘If you haven’t got anything by now he isn’t going to crack. Let him go. I’ve already had his friends on the phone complaining and you know how powerful they are. We don’t have an alternative.’ The skin around her lips tightened. ‘Don’t worry about Mr Foster. People like him always get what’s coming to them.’

Rio stood there, feeling like the last person on this earth as her superior walked away. Just like she was going to have to let Foster walk away. She twisted around and raised her fist to slam it into the wall, but managed to stop less than an inch from the hard brick. Instead she ran her palm over her forehead. She was so sure they would get him, so sure. But they hadn’t and she needed to let a certain person know.

Rio walked well away from the interview room and took out her phone.

‘I’m sorry, Nikki, we’re going to have to let him go.’

‘Go? How can you let him go? He murdered them all.’

‘I’m sorry,’ Rio repeated. She couldn’t even add the promise that she’d try to get him in the future; once Foster was out of the door he would never give her another chance to get anywhere near him.

‘You did your best, Rio.’

And then she rang off.

When Rio returned to the interview room, Foster took one look at her face and smiled with triumph. ‘We’re finished here are we, Detective Inspector?’

‘This isn’t over, Foster.’

The lawyer confidently stood up. ‘It’s over for you, Ms Wray. By the time I’ve finished with you, you won’t be able to get a job cleaning this building, never mind detecting in it.’

Rio’s whole team were waiting in the reception area. They stood in an ominous silence watching Stephen Foster with hard gazes. In that moment Rio was truly proud of her people for their bravery and tenacity during this investigation.

Once he had collected his belongings Rio escorted Foster to the exit. The doors to the front of The Fort swung open, letting in soft afternoon sunshine. There was a large crowd of reporters waiting for him outside. There was shouting and the clicks of cameras as Rio remained at the top of the stairs left on her own in a lonely and troubled place.

Rio watched as Stephen Foster descended into the middle of the media scrum. He held up his hands until everyone was quiet. The bastard was going to milk his triumph for all it was worth. She moved to the outer edges of the steps to see his lying face as he spoke and was so intent on watching him that she didn’t notice Strong stand beside her, until he whispered, ‘Our friend Foster’s a big star and linking him with Greenbelt and the Bell murders was bound to be hot news. Hold on – looks like he going to speak. This will be some kind of revenge on us . . .’