Blood On the Wall (10 page)

T
he X-rays confirmed that Georgiou did indeed have two cracked ribs, as well as cuts and bruises, but nothing else was broken.

‘Which is something to be grateful for,’ said Georgiou.

The one note of concern expressed by the doctor was that of concussion, especially while driving.

‘No problem, doctor,’ said Tennyson. ‘I’ll drive him home.’

‘I’m fine to drive,’ insisted Georgiou. ‘It was just a bang on the head.’

‘One hard enough to render you unconscious,’ said the doctor. ‘The brain is a mysterious organ. Despite all our advances in science and medicine, there’s still a lot we don’t know about it. Sometimes apparent recovery can be temporary.’

‘See?’ said Tennyson. ‘I’ll drive you home.’

‘But what about my car?’

Just then, Tennyson’s mobile rang. He gave an apologetic look at the doctor’s disapproving expression.

‘Sorry,’ he mumbled. ‘I thought I’d switched it off.’

He headed for the main reception as he answered the
phone.

‘Take my advice, let your colleague drive you home, and then rest. Is there anyone at home to take care of you?’

‘I’ll be fine,’ Georgiou reassured the doctor.

Inwardly, he thought: no, there’s no one to take care of me. Not any more, not since Susannah died.

‘If you don’t promise me to let yourself be driven home, and to rest once you get there, I may not allow you to leave,’ said the doctor.

‘You can’t afford the beds,’ countered Georgiou.

‘I’ll find one,’ said the doctor.

Tennyson returned, once again giving an apologetic look at the doctor.

‘Sorry about that,’ he said again. Turning to Georgiou, he said: ‘That was Seward. Billy Patterson’s disappeared. They’ve got uniform calling on all his known pals, places where he hangs out. We’ll find him, guv.’

‘Good,’ said Georgiou.

‘And Seward says she’ll follow us in your car.’

‘What?’

‘When I drive you home. You were worried about leaving your car where it is, so we’ll go and pick it up. Then she’ll follow us in it, and I’ll drive us both back.”

‘It’s not necessary,’ said Georgiou.

‘Yes it is,’ said the doctor. ‘On those grounds, I’ll let you go.’

‘And it’s half past six,’ said Tennyson. ‘End of our shift. So, we’re on our own time now. We can do what we want, and what we want to do is drive you home.’

Debby Seward drove along the coast road in Georgiou’s Vauxhall. Ahead of her was Tennyson’s car, a green VW beetle. There was no chance of her losing the tail; they were the only two cars on this stretch of road. And, even if she did lose them, this road only went to one place: Bowness on Solway. All the turnings off went left, inland. To her right was the sea. This journey didn’t need a map or Satnav, it was one no one could get lost on.

Her hands tightened on the steering wheel in anger as she thought of Georgiou being beaten up, and so badly he’d ended up in hospital. When she got hold of this rat, Billy Patterson, she’d make him wish he’d never been born. She’d kick his balls through his head. Break his ribs, see how he liked that.

No, she wouldn’t. If she did, she’d just be handing Georgiou’s enemies more ammunition. That’s what this had all been about. Nothing to do with the murders. A gang of juvenile thugs from the Raffles estate. This was to do with Ian Parks. Revenge for Georgiou being reinstated after that ‘incident’ with Parks. The Parks family and that rat, Councillor Maitland, would be looking for any signs of what they could label ‘police violence’ to use against Georgiou, and if she damaged Patterson, as all her feelings told her she wanted to do, then they’d use that as evidence that this was the way Georgiou encouraged his officers to behave. So, no. When she finally got hold of Patterson she’d find some other way to make him squirm. She didn’t know how, yet, but she’d think of something. That little bastard was going to pay dearly for what he did to Georgiou.

She did her best to make her fingers relax on the
steering wheel.
His
steering wheel. Oh, if only she could hold his hand! When she’d heard about him being beaten unconscious, she wanted to run to the A&E and hold him, tell him how much he meant to her. God, that would have caused a stir! That would have set tongues wagging.

But say he hadn’t responded? Say, instead of being flattered, he’d been shocked and rejected her. That would be the finish for her. She’d have to leave the force.

What did he feel about her? Anything? Or was she just a work colleague? After that one occasion when she’d held his hand sympathetically and told him she was there for him, there’d been nothing from him. But she was
sure
he had some kind of feeling for her. Sometimes when he looked at her, and he didn’t realize that she was aware of him, she saw something in those deep brown eyes of his. Indecision, certainly, as if he wanted to say something to her, something personal. But he never did. Or was she just being over-imaginative?

If only she could get some time with him that wasn’t about work. Like … now. This evening. Maybe tonight was the time to find out if there was something there, or if she was just wasting her time.

S
eward pulled Georgiou’s car to a halt behind Tennyson’s. ‘Right, thank you, my pair of nursemaids,’ said Georgiou. ‘I think I can make it to my front door from here.’

‘I’m sorry, sir,’ she found herself blurting out. ‘I still don’t think that’s a good idea.’

Georgiou and Tennyson looked at her, puzzled.

‘What isn’t?’ asked Georgiou.

‘You see, there was a cousin of mine. Mark,’ said Seward. She was gabbling now, but trying to sound coherent. ‘He fell off a ladder and banged his head. Only a little knock. Everyone thought he was fine. The hospital sent him home, and that same evening he collapsed at home and died. Brain haemorrhage.’

‘The hospital did an X-ray of my skull,’ Georgiou pointed out.

‘Yes, but that’s just the bone,’ countered Seward. ‘My cousin Mark said he was fine, too. And he was. But then, three hours later, he was dead.’

‘So what do you suggest?’ demanded Georgiou. He looked at his watch. ‘It’s half past seven. You two stay and watch
me until the magic hour of half past ten?’

Tennyson looked uncomfortable.

‘I’m afraid I can’t do that, boss,’ he said. ‘It’s my turn to put the kids to bed.’

‘I’m not asking you to!’ Georgiou snapped irritably.

‘I can,’ said Seward.

The two men looked at her, both puzzled.

‘I haven’t got anyone to go home for,’ said Seward hurriedly. ‘And I’d never forgive myself if I went and you collapsed and died.’

‘I’d phone 999,’ said Georgiou.

‘You wouldn’t be able to if you collapsed suddenly,’ insisted Seward.

‘She’s got a point,’ said Tennyson.

Georgiou pointed to his car.

‘And how will you get home?’ he asked.

Maybe I won’t, thought Seward. Maybe this is when things change. Aloud, she said: ‘I’ll drive home, and come back and pick you up in the morning.’

Georgiou shook his head doubtfully.

‘It seems a lot of fuss over nothing,’ he said.

‘That’s what my cousin Mark said,’ defended Seward. ‘And look what happened to him. The doctors said that if someone had been with him when he collapsed, he might have been saved.’

‘It’s worth considering, guv,’ added Tennyson.

Georgiou gave a heavy sigh.

‘OK,’ he said. ‘You seem determined, and I’m in no fit state to spend time arguing with you.’ He turned to Tennyson. ‘I’ll see you in the morning, Mac. And, if I die in the meantime,
DS Seward will be able to let you know.’

‘It’s not something to joke about,’ said Seward angrily.

Immediately, Georgiou gave her an apologetic look, remembering that she’d had a personal experience of such a tragedy with her cousin.

‘I’m sorry, Debby,’ he said. ‘I didn’t mean to be flippant.’ He gestured at his front door. ‘Let’s go and get that kettle on. I’m dying for a coffee.’

While Debby Seward made them coffee, Georgiou went upstairs, showered, and then changed his blood-spattered clothes into something clean. Every movement he made caused him pain. Those thugs had done a good job on him.

He thought of Seward, downstairs. It was the first time he’d been alone with a woman in his house since Susannah died. At least, an attractive, available woman. If Seward was available, that was. There didn’t seem to be anyone else in her life, otherwise she wouldn’t have been able to just offer to stay and keep an eye on him.

He dismissed the thought. She was a colleague, his detective sergeant. Romantic liaisons between officers was frowned upon. Stokes would leap upon it if he even thought there was something going on between Georgiou and Seward. The chance to get rid of Georgiou for ‘disciplinary reasons’. And maybe get rid of Seward, too. Not that there was any such thing going on.

But she was an attractive woman. A very attractive woman. And it had been a long time since Georgiou had held a woman like her in his arms. Felt her arms around him. Felt her lips touching his, his arms touching her body, her
hands touching him …

Stop this! he told himself. We have to get out of this house, somewhere where there are other people around.

He limped downstairs, and found Seward sitting at the kitchen table with two cups of coffee.

‘OK,’ he said. ‘Coffee’s fine, but after the day I’ve had, what say we grab a meal and a drink at the pub. I don’t fancy cooking tonight, and I wouldn’t dream of asking you to negotiate my oven. And I’m not even sure what I’ve got in the cupboard. Plus, it’s getting late.’

Seward looked at him, taken aback by this list of reasons why they shouldn’t eat here, even though it was all said with a friendly smile.

‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Sounds a good idea, sir.’

‘Can we drop the “sir” business while we’re in the pub?’ he asked.

She hesitated.

‘What should I call you?’

I don’t know, Georgiou realized. The members of his team always called him sir, or guv, or chief. He didn’t want to set a precedent, where suddenly his junior officers were on first-name terms with him, no matter what directives came down from head office about ‘adopting an informal team-led approach’.

‘Maybe don’t call me anything,’ he suggested. ‘Anyway, we may not have much chance to talk tonight, once it’s nine o’clock. I’ve just realized that tonight is quiz night at the pub. Once the questions start, there’s a very serious atmosphere there. No idle chatter.’ He gave her a grin. ‘We can form a team, if you like. It might be fun. A break from
running around after serial killers. Getting beaten up.’

‘Just the two of us?’ asked Seward, frowning. ‘Is two a team?’

‘There might be someone spare, there usually is,’ said Georgiou. ‘So, what do you say?’

T
he Kings Arms was half full when Georgiou and Seward entered. Georgiou led the way to a table where a bearded man was sitting alone with a nearly empty pint glass.

‘Hi, Denis,’ said Georgiou.

Denis peered at Georgiou.

‘My God, someone gave you a going over, and no mistake!’ he said. ‘What happened?’

‘I’ll tell you later,’ said Georgiou. He gestured at the two empty chairs. ‘Are these seats taken?’

‘They will be once you sit down,’ said Denis.

‘Good,’ said Georgiou, and gestured for Seward to sit. ‘This is Debby Seward, a colleague of mine. Debby, this is Denis Irving. Farmer, local historian, and a fount of all knowledge about Carlisle United football club.’

‘Pleased to meet you,’ said Seward, shaking hands.

‘So, plain clothes or just out of uniform?’ asked Denis.

‘Debby’s a detective sergeant,’ said Georgiou. ‘What are you drinking?’

‘Jennings,’ said Denis. ‘Thanks.’

‘Debby?’

‘A tonic water with ice and lemon.’

‘Driving?’ asked Denis.

Seward nodded.

‘I’ll order us something to eat while I’m at the bar,’ said Georgiou. ‘What do you fancy?’

‘What’s good?’ asked Seward.

‘Everything,’ said Denis. ‘Jenny’s a really good cook.’

‘I’ll get you a menu,’ said Georgiou.

He headed for the bar, while Denis studied Seward.

‘This is very rare, Andy bringing one of his colleagues in here,’ he said. ‘In fact, you’re the first, as far as I can recall.’

‘Yes, well, he needed a driver tonight.’

‘Oh? Something to do with those bruises and the cut lip?’

‘Er.…’ Seward hesitated, wondering if Georgiou would like her talking about what had happened to him. She decided not, so instead she just smiled.

Georgiou returned and handed her a menu.

‘Drinks are on their way,’ he said.

Seward gave Georgiou a desperate look.

‘I didn’t say anything,’ she said.

‘No need,’ said Georgiou, grinning. ‘Denis is one of the brightest people I know. He’ll have worked it all out. He should have been a detective.’

‘I prefer cows,’ said Denis. ‘You know where you are with cows. So, what happened? Or is it an official secret?’

‘I ran into some people who didn’t like me,’ said Georgiou. ‘They beat me up.’ He gestured at the menu in Seward’s hand. ‘So, what do you fancy?’ he asked.

Seward scanned the menu, then said: ‘The chicken pie.’

‘Good choice,’ said Denis approvingly. ‘Handmade. Like I say, Jenny is a good cook.’

Georgiou returned to the bar to place their order, then came back with three drinks held in his hands: a pint each for himself and Denis, and a tonic water for Seward. By now the pub had begun to fill up as more people filtered in through the door.

‘Quiz night,’ said Denis to Seward. ‘Fifteen minutes more and this place’ll be packed.’

‘Yes, so …’ Seward was about to say ‘Andy’, but stopped herself. Instead, she finished with ‘So I hear’.

‘So, what’s your speciality?’ asked Denis.

‘Speciality?’ queried Seward.

‘For the quiz. I assume we’re a team,’ he said, looking at Georgiou.

‘We are,’ agreed Georgiou, sipping at his pint.

‘Films,’ said Seward.

‘Right, that’s you with films, me with local history and agriculture, Andy here with pop music …’

‘Pop music?’ echoed Seward, surprised.

‘The eighties are his speciality,’ said Denis. ‘That and football. Except for Carlisle United, of course, that’s my area.’

‘I do follow Carlisle,’ protested Georgiou. ‘I always check their results.’

‘Yes, but you haven’t been following them as long as I have,’ pointed out Denis. ‘You don’t know all the names of all the old players.’

‘No,’ admitted Georgiou. ‘But I can name all the Arsenal Invincibles team of the 2003-2004 season.’

‘Arsenal!’ snorted Denis derisively. ‘They didn’t even have any English players! All French and African!’

‘That’s where you’re wrong!’ countered Georgiou. ‘Ashley Cole. Sol Campbell. Martin Keown. Ray Parlour …’

Seward sat and watched him, feeling both slightly bewildered and also amused. She’d never seen Georgiou like this before: relaxed, despite his injuries, talking about something other than the job. There was an easiness to him in here, which the team didn’t see on a day-to-day basis. At work, Georgiou was all business, intense, determined, driven.

She sipped at her tonic water. Maybe if I had a glass of wine next, she thought. Enough for him to say that I shouldn’t really drive, and suggest I could stay the night in his spare room. Or in the living room on his settee. Or, maybe …

Stop thinking like this, she told herself sharply. You’ll drive yourself mad. Or mess things up.

Denis pointed at her glass. She was aware that he and Georgiou had nearly finished their beers.

‘Same again?’ he asked.

‘I’ll get these,’ she said, and hurried quickly to the bar.

The landlord, a friendly-looking man with glasses and a moustache, smiled at her.

‘What can I get you?’ he asked.

‘Two pints of Jennings,’ she said. ‘And a glass of … of tonic water.’

She carried the drinks back to the table.

‘Still on tonic water?’ asked Denis.

‘Yes,’ she said.

‘A law-abiding copper,’ said Denis, nodding approvingly.
‘That’s good to know.’

There’s still a chance, Seward told herself. When we finish here, he still might decide it’s too late for me to drive home, and suggest I stay rather than have to come all the way back in the morning.

‘Still, if you’re driving back home tonight, and I’m guessing you’re in his car, how’s Andy getting to work tomorrow?’ asked Denis.

‘She’s coming to pick me up in the morning,’ said Georgiou.

‘Where from?’

‘Carlisle,’ said Seward.

‘That’s ridiculous!’ snorted Denis. ‘Going back all that way tonight, and then coming back in a few hours.’ He shook his head. ‘Makes no sense.’

No, it doesn’t, thought Seward, but she hoped that Denis hadn’t raised the issue too soon. She’d hoped that Georgiou might say the same thing, but later.

‘I’ll drop Andy off in Carlisle tomorrow,’ said Denis. ‘I’ve got to go in anyway and go to the Mart.’

‘Would you?’ asked Georgiou.

No! Seward felt herself wanting to shout out. No! This is my chance!

‘No problem,’ said Denis cheerfully. He smiled at Seward. ‘It’ll save you making an unnecessary trip.’

‘That’s very decent of you, Denis,’ said Georgiou. He smiled at Seward, and as she looked at his battered face, the cuts and bruises, and those twinkling eyes of his, Seward’s heart melted. ‘He’s a good bloke, is Denis.’

Yes, thought Seward, but inside she felt numb, as if
everything she’d hoped for had just been snatched away.

At 10.30, Seward, Georgiou and Denis left the pub. It had been an unusual evening. They hadn’t won the quiz, although they’d come close. There had only been two
questions
about films, both of which Seward had got right. The trouble was, because they’d been easy questions, nearly everyone else had got them. The meal had been excellent, as good as Denis had said it would be. And once Denis had made that offer to run Georgiou in to Carlisle the next day, an offer that Georgiou had so eagerly snatched up, Seward had stuck to non-alcoholic drinks for the whole evening. A pity, she thought. It would have been great to unwind with a glass or three of wine. And afterwards, go back to Georgiou’s house with him.

Denis waved them goodbye and walked off down the street, and Georgiou and Seward walked to where his car was parked.

‘You sure you’re going to be all right driving back?’ he asked.

What do I answer? she wondered. Do I say, ‘No, I’m feeling really tired,’ and hope he suggests I crash out at his place? But then what? A sleepless night in his spare bed, lying there, hoping.

‘I’ll be fine,’ she said. ‘How do you feel?’

‘No concussion.’ He smiled. ‘I’m good.’ He hesitated, and for a brief moment Seward thought he was going to ask her in. But then she was sure he gave a brief sigh before he said: ‘I’ll see you in the morning.’

‘Yes,’ she said, even though she wanted to throw herself
at him, throw her arms around him, kiss him. ‘Tomorrow.’

With that she walked to Georgiou’s car, unlocked it, got in, started the engine, and drove away.

Georgiou stood watching the red tail lights of his car as it disappeared. Then he opened his front door, and into went his house. He didn’t see the slight, slim figure standing in the shadows by the corner of the pub, watching him.