Hurt (DS Lucy Black) (13 page)

‘She’s not with him,’ Lucy concluded.

‘And he doesn’t know she’s vanished,’ Fleming said.

Lucy thought for a moment. ‘He wants to meet her tonight,’ she said. ‘So why don’t we arrange it?’

‘It’s too dangerous,’ Burns said, stooping to lean on the table at which the rest of the Hughes Inquiry team, along with Lucy and Fleming, sat. Lucy glanced at Fleming, who stifled a yawn, earning a dirty look from Burns. ‘We’re working on the theory that “Harris” doesn’t know she’s vanished. For all we know, he could have picked her up somewhere since that last message was sent.’

Lucy accepted the point with a nod. ‘But if he doesn’t realize that she’s gone, we could set up a sting and catch him. If “Harris”
is
Paul Bradley, we’ll have Karen’s killer, too.’

‘It’s a big if,’ Mickey commented.

‘Not according to ICS,’ Fleming countered. ‘The scrap metal thieves reported seeing someone in a red car leaving the scene where Karen was left. So, we make contact with “Harris”, arrange a pick-up point, then watch from a safe distance. If someone does turn up in a red car, we tail them and see what we get.’

‘This is all based on the belief that Gene Kay is not Karen’s killer,’ Burns said. ‘Kay who is still sitting in one of our holding cells.’

‘Has he said anything to make you think he is guilty?’ Fleming asked.

Burns shook his head. ‘The phone was unusable, so we don’t know whether he was on Facebook or not. He claims he was taking snaps of a group of girls sitting at the table opposite.’

‘Can we not do him for that?’

The door opened suddenly and Lucy felt her stomach sink as she recognized the slim figure of her mother stride into the room.

‘ACC Wilson,’ Burns said, straightening. ‘Good evening, ma’am.’

‘Mark,’ Wilson said. ‘Good evening folks,’ she added, glancing around the table. Her gaze lingered a moment on Lucy, or, at least, so it seemed to her. ‘Any progress on the Hughes killing?’

Burns exhaled sharply. ‘We’ve a bit of a breakthrough. But a second girl has gone missing in Gobnascale.’

‘Sarah Finn,’ Wilson said, nodding. ‘Are they connected?’

‘The PPU team managed to locate her phone in a lay-by near the Ness Woods. She appears to have been receiving text messages from a “Simon Harris”, which ICS believes is one of the sock puppet accounts owned by Paul Bradley, our suspect in the Hughes case.’

‘How far back do the messages go?’

‘A few months,’ Burns said. ‘Classic grooming pattern. They seem to have arranged to meet with some regularity for the past eight weeks, one night a week.’

‘So?’

‘“Harris” has texted several times today asking the Finn girl to meet him tonight.’

‘So he doesn’t know she’s gone missing?’

‘Possibly,’ Burns said.

‘I think Sarah has left with her mother’s partner,’ Lucy said, then realized that the others at the table had turned to stare at her. ‘Ma’am,’ she added.

Wilson nodded again. ‘By force or choice?’

‘We don’t know yet, ma’am,’ Fleming said. ‘DS Black is trying to locate the partner. He’s told the girl’s mother he’s in Manchester with work, but the work says he’s not.’

‘So are you going to agree to meet with “Harris”?’ Wilson asked. ‘I assume that’s the topic of discussion here.’

Burns nodded. ‘It does run the risk of alerting the suspect to the fact we have his alias.’

‘The debacle in the Foyleside today has probably already done so,’ Wilson said. ‘Very publicly. My feeling is that it’s worth the risk. The worst that will happen is that he doesn’t turn up. What time was the last message sent to Sarah’s phone?’

‘Two thirty, ma’am,’ Burns said.

‘Was that before or after we lifted Kay?’

‘Around about the same time,’ he admitted. ‘But we’ve not been able to connect Kay to Karen Hughes’s killing yet.’

‘I think the decision’s clear then,’ Wilson said. ‘I’ll see you when you’re finished, Mark. Maybe I could have a quick word with DS Black,’ she added, standing up to leave.

‘Of course, ma’am,’ Burns said.

Lucy pushed back her chair to stand while Tara, sitting next to her, leaned closer to her. ‘Good luck,’ she whispered.

Wilson was standing in the corridor when Lucy left the room. She nodded across to Burns’s office which lay empty and led Lucy in.

‘So how are things, Lucy?’

‘Fine, ma’am.’

Wilson nodded, as if this was the response she’d expected. ‘How’s the PPU treating you?’

Again. ‘Fine.’

‘Have you seen your father recently? How was he?’

Lucy was unsure what to say, aware that both of them knew of her father’s troubled past. ‘He’s fine. Considering what he did.’

Wilson nodded lightly. ‘Yet you still visit him?’

Lucy folded her arms. ‘Someone has to. Or he’d be completely on his own.’

‘I see,’ Wilson replied.

‘If you’re that interested, he’s getting worse actually.’

‘I’m sorry to hear that,’ Wilson said.

‘Really?’

Wilson sighed. ‘Must every exchange we have be adversarial, Lucy? It’s getting a little tiring.’

Lucy shrugged, aware that any further comment would seem petulant. She waited for her mother to speak, studying her face. She’d cropped her hair again, in a manner that accentuated the sharpness of her features. Instinctively, Lucy touched the ends of her own hair, aware, again, that the gamine cut had actually made her look more like her mother. She was more concerned that the similarity between them might run deeper than simply how they looked.

‘What did you want to see me about?’ she asked, keen to dismiss that last thought.

‘I understand you assaulted a suspect during the arrest of the metal theft gang this morning. Is that right?’

‘I inadvertently stepped on his hand,’ Lucy said, not quite meeting her mother’s stare. ‘It was an accident.’

‘Nothing to do with the theft of railings off a grave then?’

‘Who told you that?’

‘Never mind. Did you assault a suspect for stealing railings off a grave? Yes or no?’

‘Dad was asking about the fountain in the house down the lane the last time I saw him,’ Lucy said, using a trick of her mother’s, shifting the conversation from the professional to the personal without warning. ‘That place is a prison.’

‘Then he deserves it,’ Wilson countered, unfazed by the attempted distraction. ‘You’ve not answered my question.’

‘It was an accident,’ Lucy said.

‘I hope so,’ her mother said. Her expression softened a little and she sat in Burns’s chair. ‘Close the door and sit down.’

Lucy shut the door, but contrarily remained standing.

Her mother looked up at her, waiting for her to sit, then continued regardless. ‘How is Tom Fleming? I understand there was an incident at his house this morning, too?’

‘He seems fine. You’d be best to ask him about anything that happened at his house.’

‘I will. I thought I’d ask you first, since you were the officer who called it in,’ Wilson said. ‘So what happened to him?’

‘He overslept,’ Lucy said. ‘Didn’t hear the alarm.’

Wilson shook her head. ‘I see. Nothing’s easy with you, Lucy, is it? How’s the boyfriend then? Are you still doing a line?’

Lucy suppressed a cringe at the twee comment. ‘Broken off,’ she said.

‘I’m sorry to hear that. What happened?’

‘We had a difference of opinion.’

‘About?’

‘Monogamy,’ Lucy said, refusing to explain any further.

‘I see,’ Wilson replied. ‘That’s a pity.’

‘What about you?’ Lucy countered, reflecting on the gossip Tara had shared about her mother and the new Chief Super. ‘Still seeing Mark?’ Her mother stared at her quizzically. ‘The night I stayed with you, you said your partner’s name was Mark.’

‘Ah. Same name, different man.’

‘Is it Chief Super Burns by any chance?’

Wilson took off her glasses. ‘That’s a dangerous rumour to be spreading,’ she said.

‘I’m not spreading anything. I just asked. You asked about my love life, I asked about yours. You don’t have to explain yourself to me. God knows, that was never a consideration before.’

Wilson allowed herself a brief, brittle smile. ‘It’s always a pleasure catching up with you, Lucy,’ she said.

The team was dispersing by the time Lucy made it back into the room. A few of them glanced at her as she entered, and she guessed from their expression, half pitying and half elated, that they thought she’d been called out by the ACC to be chastised.

‘If you don’t want anyone to know she’s your mother, maybe you oughtn’t to talk to her in public as if she is,’ Fleming commented when she moved across to him.

‘I’ll bear that in mind,’ Lucy muttered brusquely.

Tara approached them a little diffidently, her papers clasped against her chest by her crossed arms. ‘Everything all right?’ she asked. ‘With the ACC?’

‘Fine,’ Lucy said, still angry that Tara had told Burns about her questioning a suspect over the stolen railings.

It was clearly on Tara’s mind too. ‘Was it about this morning?’

Fleming glanced up at the two of them sharply. Lucy suspected he’d guessed at the real topic of the conversation.

‘I stood on a suspect’s fingers during an arrest,’ Lucy explained quickly, not wishing her boss to think that she’d been discussing him with her mother.

‘I didn’t think Burns would say anything, you know?’ Tara said, touching Lucy lightly on the arm with one outstretched hand.

‘It’s fine,’ Lucy repeated. ‘I know you need to impress the new Super,’ she added dryly.

‘It wasn’t like that,’ Tara said. ‘We don’t all get private audiences with the ACC, you know.’

The comment caught Lucy off guard. Did Tara know that Wilson was Lucy’s mother? Maybe Fleming was right about her attitude to the woman.

‘We’re together on this tonight,’ Fleming said quickly, providing a diversion for which Lucy felt most grateful. ‘DI Burns has replied to the text message as Sarah, telling “Harris” that she’ll meet him. “Harris”’s messages in the past suggested several times that they meet at the entrance to Glenaden Industrial Estate. Burns reckons that’s their usual pickup spot. We’re to be parked down at the Northern Bank opposite the hospital to pick up “Harris”’s tail if he goes that way.’

Lucy knew the spot. It wasn’t far from the residential unit where Karen had been. It also afforded “Harris” a choice of directions to go. Along the Belt Road, he could go west back into Gobnascale, or east towards the hospital, with smaller roadways leading off into the Waterside or out towards Ardmore. There were potentially four different directions he could take. Added to that, they didn’t have a great description of the car save for that it was red and small, like a Fiesta.

‘We’d best grab something to eat,’ Fleming said. ‘Before we take up our positions.’

Tara joined them for food – burger and chips from the chippie across from the station – clearly in the hope that Lucy would eventually forgive her for having betrayed her to Burns. It meant that Lucy and Fleming were not alone again until they climbed into her car to head up to the spot to which they’d been assigned to wait for ‘Harris’.

‘So how was ACC Wilson?’ Fleming asked for the second time as they pulled out onto the roadway past the thick metal gates which had rolled back to allow them exit.

‘Fine,’ Lucy said, reflecting that she really needed to find an alternative statement of non-comment. ‘Good.’

‘Anything wrong?’

‘Nothing,’ Lucy replied. Though Fleming knew that Wilson was her mother, he’d never asked before when she’d spoken to her. Lucy wasn’t sure whether to tell him that her mother knew about the incident in his house, or whether to leave it lest he react badly.

‘Personal stuff, or ... work related?’

‘Personal stuff,’ Lucy agreed.

‘Not the suspect’s hand then?’

‘No,’ Lucy said.

‘I take it she knows about this morning then?’ he said finally.

Lucy looked across at him. ‘I’m sorry, Tom. I didn’t say anything, I —’

Fleming held up his hand in placation. ‘It was bound to get back to her. An ambulance being called for an officer. Especially one in the state I was in.’

‘If I’d known, I wouldn’t have called them,’ Lucy said. ‘I panicked.’

‘It’s done now,’ Fleming said. ‘You did what you thought was right. I’ll give you a key the next time.’

‘Will there be a next time?’ Lucy ventured.

‘Probably not,’ Fleming said.

Lucy nodded, though she realized he couldn’t see the movement, staring as he was out the side window now.

‘Is everything all right?’ Lucy asked. ‘Is there anything I can do?’

He glanced across at her, as if evaluating the sincerity of the question.

‘My ex-wife has moved away,’ he said. ‘She and her new husband. They’ve emigrated to Australia for a few years. Part of his job.’

‘I’m sorry to hear that,’ Lucy said. Fleming had mentioned his wife once before, when telling Lucy about his losing his licence. It was the only time he’d ever spoken about his family.

‘Oh, I don’t give a monkeys about her going,’ he said, smiling sadly. ‘She’s taken our daughter with her.’

‘I didn’t know you had a daughter, Tom,’ Lucy said.

‘Megan,’ Fleming said. ‘She’s fifteen.’ He obviously read the expression on Lucy’s face, for he added, ‘I married late.’

‘I didn’t say a word.’ Fleming had been a colleague of both Lucy’s parents, which suggested he was in his fifties by now.

‘Nor did you need to, Sergeant,’ Fleming said with a brief laugh, stressing Lucy’s rank.

‘I’m sorry to hear that though.’

Fleming nodded, dragged his hand down his face, as if wiping sleep from his eyes.

‘They won’t be here for Christmas then?’

Fleming shook his head. ‘No. The tickets are cheapest in November, because no one wants to travel then apparently. They had to leave last month or it would have cost them an extra three grand.’

‘I’m sorry,’ Lucy repeated.

‘What about you, Lucy? Any plans for Christmas?’

Lucy shook her head. ‘I’ll visit my dad. Eat crap and watch TV.’

‘We’re doing a soup kitchen,’ Fleming said. ‘My church. We’re doing Christmas dinner for the homeless and that. You’d be welcome to come along if you wanted some company.’ Lucy had forgotten about Fleming’s conversion. He’d mentioned to her before that he’d found God after he swore off drink. It appeared that the two were not mutually exclusive.