Dead of Night, page 23
part #7 of D.I. Tom Mariner Series
Suli looked at her. ‘What’s the matter?’
‘I don’t know. Maybe some of Louise’s anxiety is rubbing off on me.’
Suli put his arms around her and hugged her close. ‘I really hope not. It’s clay pigeon shooting, that’s all. I don’t think I’ll be in mortal danger.’
But after he’d gone, Millie found that she couldn’t relax, and even Haroon seemed unsettled. On impulse she texted Tony Knox. What are you up to today? Could use some company. Happily Tony was on another mission to avoid domestic chores, so agreed to meet later at a nearby pub.
On paper Mariner and Jamie had little in common, but what they did share was a liking for the outdoors and the stamina to walk for miles. As it was Jamie’s last weekend at home, Mariner had planned a walk over Clent and Walton hills, but just before they set out, he got a text from Tony Knox asking if they wanted to meet him and Millie for a lunchtime pint. Mariner texted back suggesting the Navigation, a Black Country pub where Jamie had been before and so would be relaxed, and instead of the hills, they set off for a walk along the canals.
Mariner felt a twinge of nostalgia to be sitting in a bar with his old sergeant and constable. If you overlooked the baby sleeping in his car seat, and the autistic man sitting a safe distance away stabbing at his iPad and occasionally muttering under his breath, it was just like old times.
‘First things first,’ said Knox, raising his pint. ‘Congratulations on catching your washerwoman.’
Millie joined in the toast. ‘Birmingham women can rest easy again. There’s no doubt it’s him?’
‘It pretty much adds up,’ said Mariner, with muted enthusiasm. ‘We think he’s been hanging around the hospital foyer, talking to these young women and possibly stalking them, before abducting them. Then he tied them up before bathing them and shaving off their pubic hair, and buried them wrapped in a sheet – oh, and at some point he put a necklace on them.’
‘A necklace?’ said Millie.
‘Yes, with the letter P,’ said Mariner. ‘P for pervert, presumably.’
‘All sounds quite routine to me,’ said Knox.
‘Well, thank God you got him,’ said Millie. ‘Must be a good feeling.’ Haroon stirred in his seat, contorting his face into a sleepy grimace, and they all turned to watch.
‘How’s your friend?’ Mariner asked Millie. ‘What was her name, Louise?’
‘Hm, I might have been wrong about the domestic abuse,’ Millie admitted. ‘But there’s definitely something odd about them. Suli’s gone shooting with Greg, her husband, today on the family estate. They’ve got a clay pigeon range for customers to try out their products. It was partly why I wanted to get out of the house. I’ve got this feeling about him.’
‘Suli will be fine,’ said Mariner. ‘He can take care of himself.’
‘Remind me, who is it this bloke works for?’ asked Knox.
‘Pincott and Easton,’ said Millie. ‘You must have come across them on Athena.’
‘I’ve heard of them,’ said Knox. ‘And they’re on NABIS’s radar, but then so is every gunmaker in the country.’ It came as no surprise that Operation Athena would be working closely with the National Ballistics Intelligence Service.
‘Even if they only make sports guns?’ said Millie.
‘That might be what they do officially, but some of their employees have skills that could, if they were so inclined, be put to less legitimate use,’ Knox pointed out. ‘Especially for the right price. They like to keep an eye on things.’
‘Are you any nearer to finding out who might have shot Brian Riddell?’ asked Mariner.
Knox rubbed a hand down the back of his head. ‘It’s so frustrating,’ he said. ‘We’re starting to build a case around the main players for illegally importing and re-boring weapons, and it was assumed that once we started reeling them in, intelligence about the Riddell shooting would follow. We’re convinced it’s tied to the gang-related stuff going on in the Aston/Newtown areas. That was Riddell’s patch after all, and he was involved in some key arrests a couple of years ago.’
‘You’ve got DNA from the crime scene?’ asked Mariner.
‘Yeah, they recovered a fresh lump of chewing gum. But it hasn’t matched with anyone known to us. The UCs are well-established on the inside, but apart from the odd bit of wild conjecture they haven’t picked up a whisper about the shooting. It’s weird. It’s as if nobody knows.’
‘And no chance the UCs are compromised?’ Millie asked.
‘If they were, they’d be dead or maimed for life,’ said Knox, chillingly. He swallowed the rest of his pint. ‘Who’s for a top-up?’
‘I’ll get them,’ said Millie. ‘Will Jamie have another?’ she asked Mariner.
He glanced over to Jamie’s half glass of shandy. ‘No, he’s fine,’ he said. ‘But he might have another bag of crisps. Jamie, Hula Hoops?’
Jamie flicked his eyes up from the iPad momentarily. ‘Loops,’ he said.
‘It’s his last weekend at my place,’ Mariner said to Knox, explaining about Manor Park.
‘That’s brilliant,’ said Knox. ‘You’ll be a free man again. Have you broken it to Mercy yet?’
For a moment Mariner was surprised that Knox had remembered her name, but then it was Knox, of course, who had stumbled across Mercy in the first place, in that friend-of-a-friend way that could be so useful; through Jean no doubt. ‘Yes, I think she’s quite disappointed,’ he said. ‘But it was only ever a temporary thing. I think she’ll be OK, as long as her son doesn’t give her any grief. You haven’t come across a Carlton Renford in the course of your new job, have you?’
Knox pulled a face. ‘Nah, doesn’t ring any bells,’ he said, as Millie returned with the next round of drinks.
When Millie got home she was relieved to see Suli’s car already parked outside the house, and over dinner he was enthusiastic about his day. ‘Greg was right when he talked about the family estate,’ he said. ‘It looks like half of bloody Shropshire.’ He’d taken pictures on his phone and held one out to show her. ‘Can you believe that?’
‘Louise said they were well off,’ Millie said.
‘It’s a great marketing angle,’ said Suli. ‘I can see how it would impress clients, especially the Yanks. Greg’s uncle is quite a character, to put it politely. I didn’t take to him.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘He never seemed to miss an opportunity to put Greg down. I went for a pee after lunch, and when I came back, Greg and “Uncle”, as he calls him, were having a bit of a ding-dong about some deal that Greg is under pressure to close. The final straw seemed to be that a company vehicle has gone missing and Greg hasn’t got round to reporting it yet. When I walked back into the room, you could have cut the air with a knife. Thankfully Uncle didn’t actually come with us on to the range. But it didn’t exactly put Greg in a relaxed mood. He was tense and twitchy all afternoon. To be honest, it wasn’t much fun after that and I was quite glad to get away.’
‘It might explain why Greg is so domineering,’ said Millie. ‘It doesn’t excuse him, but if he’s under that kind of pressure at work, I suppose I could understand why he comes home stressed.’
‘I wasn’t sure at one point if he regretted asking me there.’
‘He’d made the invitation before he found out I’m in the police,’ Millie reminded him. ‘Perhaps he wouldn’t have, if he’d known. Did you say anything to him?’
‘I asked if everything was all right. He just told me there’s this big contract hanging in the balance.’
‘And what about the shooting?’
‘It was fun,’ Suli grinned, ‘though I wasn’t much good at it.’ Lifting his arm, he rolled his shoulder a couple of times. ‘I’m going to ache for days, too. Anyway, what have you two been up to?’
Millie told him about their day. ‘Though I half expected Louise to come over this morning. She must have been on her own today too.’
‘Oh she’s not. Greg told me,’ said Suli. ‘She’s gone to her mum’s for a few days.’
A strange, two-headed creature gazed back at Tiffany Davey from the mirror.
‘You look fabulous, babes!’ said the voice in her ear and Lex’s face, resting on her shoulder, broke into a wide grin. ‘But you’ve got to lose the splint. It spoils the look.’
As usual, Tiffany didn’t argue with her friend. Ripping back the Velcro, she took off the bulky splint even though she’d been told to keep it on all the time in the first two weeks. She tried to flex her wrist. Ow, it hurt. She’d have to remember to use her other hand. But Lex was right. She did look pretty good, and a tiny piece of her dared to hope that this would be the night. Perhaps the eve of her twenty-second birthday would be when she met a special someone. Around the age of fourteen, Tiffany had been part of a comfortable majority among her friends, which year by year had shrunk to a minority, finally becoming a minority of one.
She was the only one who had never been on a date and had only ever twice been kissed by a man who wasn’t a blood relative. On the sole occasion when a boy from school had attempted to seriously snog her at the prom, it had made her feel slightly sick. Though she didn’t have absolute proof of this, Tiffany was certain too that she must be the only one of them left who was a virgin. As her friends were starting to get serious with their blokes, Tiffany felt more and more that she was missing out and was increasingly tired of her aunties and her mum’s friends all the time asking ‘Got a boyfriend yet Tiff?’ So in the last few months, spurred on by Lex and Sophie, she’d made a big effort to lose some of the puppy fat, had her hair tinted and her eyebrows shaped. She was never going to be the thinnest or the prettiest girl, and her hair was beyond taming even with the most powerful straighteners. But she wanted to believe it; tonight was going to be different. She’d said as much to Lex, while they were getting ready.
‘Well, then,’ said her friend. ‘You’ve got to put yourself out there and make it happen.’
TWENTY-SIX
Shortly after Mariner and Jamie arrived home, ducking in out of a sudden cloud burst, Mariner had a text from Suzy. She’d been at a conference in nearby Coventry and wondered if he was busy. The message was neutral, leaving the options open. Mariner called her back straight away. ‘Jamie and I have just got back,’ said Mariner. ‘We’ve been out all day. But you could come over?’
‘Sounds good,’ she said. ‘It’s all winding down here now, so I should get away by about seven. Go ahead and have dinner without me. They’ve fed us really well here.’
‘Great,’ said Mariner. ‘It will be good to see you.’ He meant it. He hadn’t been sure after Cambridge if he’d really screwed up, and now the prospect of seeing her made him ridiculously happy. Since squandering that last opportunity, he had quite literally ached for her, so tonight was a very welcome surprise.
Suzy had only been over to Mariner’s place a couple of times, and it had been far from relaxed for anyone. Jamie had been wary of Suzy, just as she had trodden carefully around him, and Mariner was on edge for both of them. Tonight it seemed remarkably easy. Jamie had barely acknowledged Suzy when she arrived, and he allowed them to sit near him in the living room, where he watched Pointless.
‘He must be getting used to you,’ Mariner said, slipping his arm around Suzy. ‘Ironic, now that he’s about to go into Manor Park full-time.’
‘You’ve got him a place? That’s fantastic,’ said Suzy, ‘for both of you.’
‘Thanks,’ said Mariner, ‘for making me feel less selfish than I actually am.’
‘You’ve had quite a week,’ she said. ‘That guy caught too.’
‘Sort of,’ said Mariner. ‘But you’re right. The worst seems to be over, which is a relief. How was your conference?’
‘Oh, boring academic stuff. You know us in our “rarefied little world” …’
‘I’m sorry,’ said Mariner. ‘I didn’t mean it. Really, I wasn’t talking about you.’
‘I know, and you’re forgiven,’ she said. ‘It was my fault anyway. Barney’s an arsehole. I should have remembered that.’
After the long walk it seemed logical to Mariner that Jamie should be tired and ready for an early night, leaving Suzy and him to enjoy each other’s company. He was in for a disappointment. Initially co-operative, Jamie went up to his second-floor room to brush his teeth the first time Mariner suggested it. But after that he seemed to change his mind and getting him into his pyjamas and then bed took forever, none of which was helped by Mariner’s impatience. When he finally got down to his own room, Suzy was dozing and despite all other intentions, the day caught up on him too. He woke a couple of hours later, aroused and hard, but Suzy was sound asleep. A break in the showers had exposed a full moon, and through the thin curtains it cast a pale light over her. She lay on her back, completely open and trusting, one arm thrown across the pillow above her head. Mariner couldn’t help himself and slid his hand under her skimpy camisole.
‘Hey,’ she murmured. ‘What do you think you’re up to?’
‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,’ said Mariner.
But under the duvet she’d found his erection. ‘Like hell,’ she said. ‘What were you planning to do with this?’
She guided him in, and as he moved rhythmically over her, she arched towards him, her arms raised, and the moonlight caught the silver strand of the bracelet on her wrist. Mariner stopped abruptly and Suzy tensed. He’d been honest with her from the start about his less-than-reliable functioning, and it was a moment she’d been dreading.
‘There’s something wrong,’ Mariner said.
Suzy wriggled against him. ‘Feels all right to me,’ she said encouragingly, drawing him in deeper.
‘No,’ said Mariner, pulling back and rolling off her. ‘It isn’t. Oh, Christ, we’ve made a mistake.’
Tiffany was a couple of hours into her birthday celebration and so far it wasn’t going well. She was beginning to think she must give off vibes or something. The others had both been hit on loads of times, but no matter how much she smiled at the guys or tried to get into a conversation, they always ended up either drifting away or chatting to one of her friends instead.
Now she was standing on the sidelines at the bar again, feeling stone-cold sober despite all the shots they’d plied her with, and increasingly despondent. She was annoyed with Lex and Sophie; they had promised they’d stick with her all night, but since a couple of tasty guys had come along (one and his wingman, of course; it was never three) she’d been effectively abandoned. Now she was hot, miserable and dying for a fag. Catching Lex’s eye, she gestured as much. Her friend shook her head in disapproval. Tiffany was the only smoker among them too, but she couldn’t be expected to lose weight and give up smoking at the same time. She made her way out to the front of the club. It was pissing down outside and she hadn’t brought an umbrella; too cumbersome on a night out. Stepping out, she saw a man a little way along the street, standing under an awning, the tell-tale glow as he drew on his cigarette. He must have seen her too. ‘Room for one more under here,’ he called.
Tottering on her too-high heels, Tiffany scurried across to join him under the awning. She winced from the pain in her wrist as she got out her cigarettes and was fumbling around for her lighter when she heard the strike of flint by her ear.
‘Here you go.’ His voice was vaguely familiar and as the lighter flared, she sort of recognized his face too. ‘You don’t remember me, do you?’ he said. He must have sensed her confusion and held out his arms. ‘I know. I don’t look the same without the kit.’
‘Oh, you’re from the hospital,’ said Tiffany. A squall of rain gusted around them and he placed a protective hand on her back, drawing her in a little closer. She found it strangely intimate. He was too old for her, but he was fit in every sense of the word: quite tall, slim and good looking. He smelled nice too, of soap and aftershave. ‘How’s your wrist?’ he asked.
‘Actually, it really hurts,’ Tiffany confessed. ‘I took the splint off.’
She held out her hand for him to see, and he took it between his, rubbing it gently with his thumbs, his cigarette gripped between his knuckles. ‘Hm, that might not have been the best idea.’ His touch felt like an electric shock. Releasing Tiffany’s hand again, he picked up a beer bottle from a ledge beside him, and offered it to her. Tiffany didn’t really like beer but she took it anyway, because it was the cool thing to do. It tasted as bad as she expected but she tried not to let it show.
As she handed it back, he took one last pull on his cigarette before dropping it on the pavement and flattening it with his heel. ‘Well, that’s me done,’ he said.
‘Aren’t you coming back inside?’ said Tiffany, trying not to sound desperate. She wanted to see the look on Lex and Sophie’s faces when she went back in with him. He might dance with her, his body pressed up against hers.
‘No, I’m heading off,’ he said. ‘I think I’ll find somewhere a bit quieter.’
Tiffany realized suddenly that it was exactly what she wanted to do. ‘Actually, I’ve had enough too,’ she said truthfully. ‘My friends have got off with a couple of blokes.’
‘And you were overlooked? I can’t believe that, a lovely girl like you.’ He was gazing intently at her face, and quite unexpectedly he reached out and placed a hand on her neck, stroking her jaw line. Then he leaned down and kissed her very gently on the lips. Tiffany thought her knees would give way.
He broke the kiss. ‘Look, my car is parked just down there and it’s a bloody awful night. Can I give you a lift anywhere?’ He held up his hands. ‘I’m perfectly safe, I promise. Hardly had anything to drink.’ He looked at the beer bottle. ‘Especially if you polish this off for me.’
Tiffany hesitated for only a moment. They’d found the creep who was preying on women; she’d heard it on the radio this morning. She looked at his handsome face and, for an instant, imagined them in bed together. It would be more than an inexperienced fumble with him; he’d really know what he was doing. Anticipation tingled warmly between her legs. ‘All right,’ she said. Taking the bottle from him, she drank what was left. There was more than she’d thought and drinking it quickly, she had to stifle a little burp afterwards. ‘I’ll be back in a minute,’ she said. ‘I should just tell my friends.’
