CRIME ON THE FENS a gripping detective thriller full of suspense (16 page)

‘Oh, I didn’t mean that! I’m just concerned that he seems to have a rather erratic concentration span, and he talks very quickly, almost as if he’s hyperactive.’

The sister softened. ‘That’s very perceptive of you. Some old notes did mention a suspected learning difficulty when he was younger.’ She smiled. ‘It’s not his head injury, Sergeant, I’m afraid the childish behaviour is quite normal for Mickey.’

Half an hour later, Mickey was ready to go.

‘You are coming with me, Joe? You won’t leave me, will you?’

I’ll be right by your side, no fear.’

‘Promise? I mean I like the thought of a police guard. Your men are armed, aren’t they? I mean they’re not much use if they can’t shoot anyone who threatens me. And what if . . .’ The boy’s agitation was becoming almost alarming.

‘Hey! Slow down, partner! This isn’t a scene from
Lethal Weapon
! It’s sleepy old Greenborough, remember.’ He reached across and held the boy’s hand. ‘No one is going to get to you, understand? You’ve got Sergeant Joe right here with you.’

‘Yeah, yeah, I have, haven’t I?’

‘Now, listen. If you just stay calm until we get you settled into your private room, then when the doctors have checked you over, I’ll tell you a secret, right? A really big secret!’

‘What is it?’ asked Mickey, temporarily forgetting his fear.

‘You be a good lad, and you’ll find out. Deal?’

‘Deal, Sergeant Joe.’

The trip was uneventful, and in no time Mickey Smith was being made as comfortable as possible in his new room.

‘Very nice! Even I’ve never had a private room before,’ said Joseph in mock awe. ‘Look, Mickey, they’ve even got pictures on the walls! And your own toilet! How snobby is that?’

A tall, stick-thin nurse threw him a conspiratorial grin and whispered. ‘You’re a natural with the lad. If you ever need a new vocation, I’d seriously consider paediatric nursing.’

Joseph raised his eyebrows and whispered back. ‘You have to be joking! This is really hard work compared to catching criminals!’

Finally, one by one, the nurses left, the last one saying. ‘He’s very tired, officer. I suggest you let him sleep now.’

Joseph checked that his uniforms were in place outside, then drew up a chair.

‘So what’s your big secret, Joe?’ muttered a sleepy voice.

‘You won’t ever tell, will you?’

‘Cross my heart and ho—’

‘I believe you, Mickey,’ interrupted Joseph, not wanting to hear the unfortunate child say that he’d
hope to die
. ‘In the job I had before this one, I used to have to guard people. Very important people just like you.’

Mickey yawned. ‘So who did you protect?’

Joseph leaned across and whispered a name in the boy’s ear, then he moved back to see the child’s dark eyes widen and the lips form an amazed ‘O.’

‘Never!’

‘Yep. I really did.’

Mickey’s eyes began to close, but the smile stayed on his face. ‘I got secrets, too.’

Joseph stiffened, but kept his tone soft. ‘Really? Big as mine?’

‘Bigger.’

‘Wanna share them?’

‘Maybe.’

As Joseph watched, the child’s breathing changed, and his ravaged face relaxed into sleep.

‘Great timing, Mickey.’ He sat back and tried to make himself comfortable. ‘But I’ll still be here when you wake up, believe me!’

* * *

Nikki closed the folder and let out a long, audible sigh. The forensic findings showed that Lisa Jane had been grabbed from behind, and throttled to death with great force. The whole horrible incident would have taken only minutes. She hoped that Archie and his family might take some sort of consolation from that fact. She could just as easily have been incarcerated somewhere and tortured. Nikki tensed. Which could be the fate of Kerry Anderson, if they didn’t damn well find her.

‘Ma’am. May I have a word?’

She looked up to see WPC Yvonne Collins, dressed in civvies, waiting in the doorway.

‘Sure. Problem?’

‘I hope not, but I’ve got bad vibes about something, guv.’

Nikki pointed to a chair, and realised that Collins, a woman who had never been her greatest fan, had just called her ‘guv,’ and her tone had none of its usual rancour.

‘What’s worrying you, Yvonne?’

‘Earlier today Niall and I went to see an old snout of mine. We’d asked him about Fluke, and he said he’d get us some information and meet us at five.’ Yvonne rubbed her forehead. ‘Thing is, we waited at the rendezvous, but he didn’t turn up.’

‘And he’s normally reliable?’

‘I’ve known Vic longer than some of my work colleagues, and he’s never missed.’

‘Do you drop him anything?’

‘Just a token amount, guv, from my own purse.’

‘I’d do the same. It keeps them coming back.’

Yvonne looked miserable. ‘It’s not just that, I like the old boy. He’s harmless, and very intelligent. I’d hate something to have happened to him. I’m off-duty now, and I’d like to go look for him, but I thought I should check with you first.’

‘I’m not sure that the Carborough at night, and out of uniform, is good move.’

‘It’s far worse with your uniform on, believe me! But Niall has offered to go with me.’

‘Okay, but keep your enquiries low-key and your phones switched on. I don’t want two damned good officers getting hurt for the sake of an old wino whose liver finally gave up on him. He may be a good old boy, but you know what I’m saying. Any sign of anything amiss, call for help, understand?

‘Absolutely, ma’am, and thank you.’

Nikki sat and watched the officer leave, and quietly wondered about herself. That was the second time today she had praised her staff. Maybe she was like Archie, getting too long in the tooth for all the agro. Then she thought about Kerry, and her heart hardened. No sodding way! Nikki Galena was as tough as ever, and ready and waiting to do battle. She would clean this town of the drug dealers, if it were the last thing she ever did.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Joseph had dozed on and off, while still keeping an eye on the slumbering boy. The slightest movement or whimper from the direction of the bed, and he was wide awake in a nanosecond. If you wanted to stay alive on Special Ops, you learned to cat-nap but remain vigilant, and in his year away from the world, he had learned how to meditate, which refreshed him more than an hour of sleep could ever do.

Outside on the ward he could hear the nurses coming and going, buzzers bleeping and the occasional voice, but in the single room, it was quiet. The last few days had been an unexpected rollercoaster, and it was good to take a breather.

He watched as the boy’s chest rose and fell rhythmically, and decided that his move to Greenborough had been a good one. He liked his new team, even if the boss did call them dysfunctional. And then there was DI Galena herself. She was not what the jungle drums had warned him about. Yes, she had a vitriolic tongue, and yes, she could put people’s backs up in an instant, but she was a complicated woman. There were deep, dark and tangled parts to her, but there was also intelligence, shrewdness and above all, compassion. It didn’t show itself too often, but it was there all right. Joseph smiled and thought about Dave. Generally he was considered a scruffy, lazy bastard, but DI Galena had made it her business to look deeper, and that was why Dave was working with her right now. Joseph didn’t know the details, his guess was a disabled wife or mother, but the man had serious family commitments which left him exhausted and with no time to look after himself. If the DI had been the hard-hearted harridan that so many thought her, she would not have taken the time to rescue Dave Harris. Then, of course, there was Cat Cullen. The DI took the piss out of her, but openly respected her strengths, and Joseph had seen the effect that a word of praise from the boss had had on the girl earlier that day. It had really meant something to her. Okay, so they
were
a dysfunctional bunch, and he included himself in that statement, but he would prefer them over most of the people he’d worked with. He took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and wondered if he might have a chance to stay in Greenborough. Strangely, considering the havoc that surrounded him, he was beginning to like it.

At around ten thirty he stuck his head out of the door and asked one of the officers to get him a strong coffee. For some reason he’d suddenly felt unnaturally twitchy about Mickey Smith, and wanted to keep as alert as he could.

He sat back down and sipped the scalding liquid tentatively. Maybe it was the fact that he knew that Mickey had secrets that made him so edgy. If
he
knew, others would as well. Maybe it was those secrets that had put him into Intensive Care in the first place. And if it was, what the hell did he know that was worth going down for murder for?

The boy moved uncomfortably, then cried out, in fear and pain.

‘No! I’m sorry! Don’t hurt me! I’m sorry!’

‘Hey, it’s alright, Mickey. You’re safe now.’

‘Sergeant Joe! Don’t let him hurt me again.’

‘I won’t let anyone hurt you, son.’

The cries faded into sobs.

‘Who hurt you, Mickey?’

‘The man my friend works for,’ he whispered.

‘What friend is that?’

‘Marcus. Marcus Lee.’

‘And do you know the name of the man Marcus works for?’

‘He calls himself Fluke.’ He paused and stared mournfully at his new friend. ‘I dunno his proper name, but I know where he lives.’

Joseph took a deep lungful of air. No wonder the boy was in danger! ‘And Marcus, did he help Fluke to hurt you?’

The tears welled up again. ‘No, Sergeant Joe. He tried to stop him. I think he thought Fluke would just give me a good thrashing for being so stupid about the masks, but when he saw what the man was doing, he tried to help me.’

A shiver crossed Joseph’s back, from shoulder blade to shoulder blade. ‘And what happened to Marcus?’

Between gulping air and trying not to cry, Mickey said, ‘Fluke hit him with something. Something heavy. He went down and he didn’t move again. Then the man came back to me . . . and he had . . . a knife . . .’ Mickey began to shake uncontrollably.

‘That’s enough now. You try to rest. It’s all over. You can leave it all to us. Just tell me where Marcus lives, then we’ll find your friend and we’ll make sure that we find this Fluke too.’

Joseph went to the door and called one of the constables inside. ‘Stay with him. Don’t leave him for one second. I have some urgent calls to make.’

* * *

Nikki picked up the phone on the first ring. ‘He said what!’ she exclaimed.

‘Yes, he doesn’t know Fluke’s actual address, but he said he could take us there.’

‘Shit! We can’t wait for that. Could you could get him to describe where it is?’

‘I’ll try, ma’am, but he’s asleep again and the nursing staff are not too happy that he got so upset earlier. His last outpouring really floored him, poor kid.’

‘But we have to find this Marcus Lee, whoever he is. He could be badly injured, maybe dead or dying. Damn it! Is this never going to end?’

‘If he’s got form he’ll be on the police computer, but not if he’s clean, why don’t you save time and ring Archie. Ten to one he’ll know exactly where the Lee’s live.’

‘Good thinking, Sergeant. Now get back to your charge. Apart from keeping him safe, he’s worth his weight in gold right now. And do all you can to discover Fluke’s address. Mickey can sleep for days and have all the comics he wants,
after
he helps us nail his attacker.’

‘I’m onto it, ma’am.’

* * *

Nikki caught the super just as he was leaving. She briefed him and promised to call him if anything of note happened. He had offered to stay, but Nikki had not liked the unnatural pallor of his face, and decided the man badly needed some sleep.

Having done that, she rang Archie, got an address for Marcus Lee, then after thanking the man profusely, she phoned Yvonne Collins on her mobile.

‘Any luck with that snout of yours?’

‘No one’s seen him since lunch-time, ma’am.’ The constable sounded both tired and worried.

‘Look, sorry to add to your problems, but would you two make an unofficial call on 201 Bristow Street? We are anxious to locate a young man who lives there named Marcus Lee. We believe he may be injured, possibly severely. Softly, softly please, Collins. We don’t want to alarm his family if this turns out to be unreliable information, okay?’

‘We’re quite close to there now, ma’am. I’ll ring you back. Oh, and ma’am, there’s an ugly feeling on the estate this evening.’

‘Like what?’

‘Hard to put our finger on it, just feels really uneasy.’

‘I’ll pass on those good tidings to your sergeant, as if he wasn’t stressed enough already! Hear from you soon.’ She closed her phone and strode along the corridor towards the lift. If Mickey was correct, this was the first time Fluke had shown his hand and actually been identified. Not that he believed Mickey would be around long enough to point the finger. Nikki stopped in her tracks. It was imperative that Fluke did not find out that Mickey had survived the attack! She thought for a moment. This whole case had been riddled with deception, would one more hurt?

Picking up her step, she went down to the main office to report Yvonne Collins observations regarding the mood on the Carborough, then hurried back to her office.

It was a big and risky chance to take, but if Mickey Smith’s home life was as bad as she’d been led to believe, then it could just be the answer. She sat back and considered how she would go about it. The one thing she was pretty certain about, was that Sergeant Easter would back her to the hilt. Yes, to save the boy’s life, she would allow a rumour to spread that Mickey had not survived. Then she would spirit him away to safety, until she had fucking Fluke banged up.

A small smile spread across her face. She could feel it in her bones that they were getting closer to him, and if they found him, please God, they’d also find Frankie Doyle.

* * *

‘He’s not at home, ma’am. And his family didn’t seem unduly worried about him. Marcus is nineteen, and he’s a law unto himself apparently. We’ve left a message for him to ring the station, if and when he gets back, but I suspect my card is already in the dustbin.’

‘Thanks for trying, Yvonne. Are you continuing with your search for your snout?’

‘Word says he’s been frightened off, guv. And there are more urgent issues when you look at the big picture, plus we both need sleep.’

‘Sensible. Get yourselves home, and thanks.’ She hung up, and wondered about Marcus Lee. Had he run off, and was he licking his wounds somewhere? Or had Fluke decided not to leave any more loose ends lying around? They really needed Fluke’s address.

She flipped open her phone, then closed it again. Joseph would ring as soon as he had something to tell her, there was no point bugging him, and putting the hospital staff’s back up in the process.

Nikki began to pace the floor. She felt about as happy as a newly caged tiger. She needed to be out there, doing something, not stuck in her office waiting for the damned phone to ring. She glanced at her watch. She had missed the tea-time television news, and the super had organised the Anderson family, well Mr Anderson, to make an appeal for Kerry’s safe return.

She logged onto her computer and found the television station’s catch up channel. While she waited, she may as well find out how it went.

Five minutes later she closed it down again. Anderson had been eloquent and seemingly devastated. His wife had sat silently beside him, and for the full interview had managed to look like a frightened rabbit caught in a headlight. The super was grave-faced and every bit a senior officer with the weight of the world on his shoulders. And why wouldn’t he be? There had been no confirmed sightings of Kerry right across the region, and nothing from any other county force.

Kerry Anderson had walked out into the night, and disappeared without trace.

Nikki wandered out to the CID office and stared at the glass evidence board with the words ‘unidentified young white male’ written on it.

Mickey Smith. He could be their Golden Child. He was young, into everything, inquisitive and lonely. He spent as much time out of his house as he could, and Nikki was pretty sure that he knew more about the Carborough and the folks who lived there, than Archie Leonard.

Her gaze moved across the board and settled on a picture that caused her to shiver every time she saw it. It was of a young woman, approximately five-eight not skinny but certainly not overweight. Her hair was short, a non-descript mousy brown, and her eyes were evil, whatever colour that was. The name under the photograph was Frankie Doyle; the woman who had taken her daughter’s life and put it on hold, possibly forever.

Officers were still working in the big room. Phones were still ringing, and printers clattered and whirred, but Nikki was lost in a private place with only Hannah occupying her mind. She knew the grim facts about persistent vegetative state, and she knew that if it went on much longer the hospital would be coming to her and asking that terrible question. The question that she could not even bring herself to contemplate.

There had been miracles before, so why not a miracle for Hannah? Surely where there was life there was hope? That’s what everyone said, and she was sure that Joseph would be the first to embrace that old adage. Although he didn’t seem to think it applied to his own daughter, Tamsin.

Joseph. Nikki frowned, and wondered why his opinions mattered to her? She had known him for such a short time, yet, no, this was not the time. She turned from the board and swiftly walked back to her office. As she opened the door, the phone screamed into life.

‘DI Galena here. I hope that’s damn well you, Joseph Easter!’

‘Funnily enough, it is, ma’am.’

She could hear the excitement in his voice. ‘So, what have you got?’

‘First; a clear description of Fluke.’

Nikki scribbled down everything he said, ‘And what else?’

‘I’ve narrowed down his address to within two or three houses.’

‘Brilliant! Fire away with that and I’ll get uniform and an armed unit straight round there.’

‘Okay, this is what Mickey says. From the traffic lights on Main Ridge, go down Haltoft Lane, then into Fishmere Crescent. There’s a small dead end street down there, he can’t remember the name, but there’s only six or seven small terrace houses. Fluke is staying in one of the middle terraces. It has a blue front door.’

‘He’s talking about Carson Villas. Quiet, tucked away, perfect!’ Nikki sighed with relief. ‘If that kid were here now, I’d hug him!’

‘With three broken ribs, he wouldn’t thank you for it.’

‘Joseph, I need your thoughts on something.’

‘Fire away, ma’am.’

Nikki sank back in her chair and told him about Mickey Smith’s ‘faux demise.’

For a while, Joseph said nothing, making her wonder if she’d been wrong about him, then he said, ‘I’ll get an idea from the doctor of when he’ll be safe to move. It’s not just a good idea, ma’am, I think it’s critical to get him to safety.’ He paused, then added, ‘And to be honest, I don’t think that’s here.’