CRIME ON THE FENS a gripping detective thriller full of suspense (22 page)

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

It was just before eleven when Nikki and Dave walked slowly across the deserted hospital car park to their vehicle.

‘Straight back to the station, ma’am?’ asked Dave with a yawn.

‘Yeah. I just hope to God they get hold of all that white stuff
and
the scum that were about to make a fortune out of it.’

‘They will, ma’am,’ said Dave confidently, as he unlocked the car. ‘I know there wasn’t much time to organise such a massive operation, but those specialist units really know their job.’

Nikki didn’t feel quite so positive. She’d been part of some glorious cock-ups in the past, and knew that the slightest thing, the most inauspicious action, could ruin the whole operation. She closed the door, buckled up her seat belt and switched on her radio. ‘I’ll see if I can find out how it’s going.’

The radio crackled into life, and her heart sank. From the shouts and barked orders that were being sent to the police vehicles in the area, things were far from peachy at the docks.

‘DI Galena! Present location Greenborough Hospital, can we assist?’

‘Two suspects apprehended, two on their toes, ma’am. Last seen running from the docks thirty minutes ago. No sightings since.’

‘Damn! Damn!’ cursed Nikki. ‘Do we know who they are?’
Don’t let it be Doyle! Just not Doyle!

‘No, ma’am. One is a white male, and one a young white female.’

Nikki signed off, then crashed her balled fists down on the dash board. She could barely bring herself to say the words. ‘She’s got away.’

‘So where to, ma’am? Shall we go help look for her?’

‘Where would she go? Who would help them?’ Nikki was thinking out loud. ‘They’re going to need transport. A car.’

‘Surely they’ll nick one?’

‘Frankie wouldn’t want to damage her nail polish, but who is she with? One of the Flukes? Or Steven Cox? The henchmen could hot-wire a car in seconds, but Cox, no, probably not. We better get back to the station, Dave, and get some more details before we chase our tails all around the town.’

For a while she could hardly speak, her blood boiled at the thought of that scum on the loose again. Okay, maybe she’d lost all her merchandise, but Doyle still had her fucking freedom.

‘Any cars in the vicinity of Adams Way! Lone female, possibly our suspect, heading towards the Carborough Estate.’ The radio screeched at them.

‘The Carborough, Dave! And fast!’

Dave hung a U-ey and drove at speed down a series of side streets that led towards the estate. ‘If she gets in there, we’ll never find her!’

‘Don’t be so sure.’ Nikki flipped open her phone, punched the speed dial number for Archie Leonard, and talked earnestly for a few minutes. As she closed the phone, a cold smile spread across her face and she half whispered. ‘Nowhere to hide, Frankie Doyle. The big boys are
very
unhappy with you.’

‘So where should I go now?’ asked Dave, looking around the deserted streets.

‘Just cruise, and keep your eyes peeled. She’s here somewhere. It’s the only place in town that she believes she may be safe.’

As the car toured the lonely streets, Nikki suddenly realised what Yvonne had meant when she said that the atmosphere was ‘bad.’ In a very short time, the Carborough had subtly changed. The streets that she knew so well, felt sinister and threatening. Shadows were no longer just shadows; they were pools of darkness that concealed the shapes of men. The whole place had seemed to come to life, but you saw nothing clearly.

Nikki felt her pulse quicken. They were out there. They were looking for her.

Other police cars drifted in and out of side streets. A window went down and a few negative words were spoken before the cars sighed off again.

It seemed like an eternity, but it took less than thirty minutes for her mobile to ring.

‘Archie?’ Her voice shook in anticipation.

The voice on the other end was slow, calm, and carried all the warmth of the Polar ice cap. ‘Come to the Zig Zag café. Back door is unlocked. Tell no one.’

Nikki stared at the phone, then pressed the ‘end’ button.

‘Where to, ma’am? Has he found her?’

Nikki inhaled, then held her breath for several seconds before she blew the air out. ‘I think he may have.’

‘Fan-bloody-tastic! That was a stroke of genius, guv, asking the enemy to help.’

‘Archie Leonard isn’t the enemy, Dave, he’s a villain, but he’s hung onto some sort of values. Stephen Cox and Frankie Doyle are the true enemy, and they don’t have
any
friends, either in our world or Archie Leonard’s.’

‘So where is she, guv?’

‘Close by.’ She turned and looked at Dave. ‘And I’m going to suggest that . . .’ Before she could continue, Dave swore loudly and swiftly pulled the car into the curb.

‘Shit!’ Dave jumped out of the car and stared down at the front driver’s side tyre. ‘Jesus! Look at that!’

In the narrow side street, lay part of an improvised stinger, the sort of equipment that they used themselves to stop stolen cars and joy-riders by shredding their tyres.

‘We sure aren’t going any further until I change that!’ muttered Dave, pushing up his sleeves.

‘We don’t have time!’ Nikki leapt from the car. This was her golden opportunity! ‘I’ll go and find Archie! You stay with the car, or we’ll come back and find no wheels, no radio, and possibly no engine!’

‘But you can’t go on your own, ma’am!’ Dave looked completely torn. He knew exactly what the Carborough kids would do to his vehicle if he walked away from it. ‘I’ll call for back up.’

‘Not yet, Dave! Think about it! I’ve got the biggest, baddest man on the block, plus half his extensive family, all looking out for me! Who’s safest, me or you?’

‘And Doyle?’ he asked. ‘If she’s there, you know you shouldn’t see her alone, ma’am. After what she did to the sergeant, and all that . . .’ he looked at her, his eyes full of concern. ‘You would do things by the book, ma’am, wouldn’t you?’

If you knew the half of it, Dave Harris!
‘Trust me, Dave. I just need to know that Archie’s actually got her, or at least that he knows where she is, then I’ll ring you and we’ll go arrest her, okay?’ Nikki looked back at him. ‘Stay here, wait for my call, and hang fire on radioing in our position just yet. Not everyone thinks my trusting Archie is such a good idea, so just in case this is a blind alley, let me check it out first, okay? I can’t afford any more black marks on the super’s reports.’

Mixed emotions fused into one big mess on his face, but he finally nodded. ‘Fair enough, ma’am. But don’t take all night, will you? You may have half the Leonard clan behind you, but I’ve got sod all out here!’

* * *

The Zig Zag café had always been a dive, but since a gang of masked hooligans had tried to torch it, it looked more like a demolition site.

The back door led directly into the kitchen, a place that looked more suited to hosing down tractor tyres than to preparing food.

Archie stood in the shadows and waited for her. ‘Did she kill my girl, Nikki? I want an honest answer.’

‘Forensics prove that Lisa Jane was killed by a powerful man, Archie. Not a woman.’ That was honest enough for now.

He nodded. ‘But is she implicated?’

‘She may well be, but I’ll need to prove it.’ She stared directly at him. ‘And I will, of that there is no doubt.’ She took a step closer to the man. ‘Archie, listen to me. If it
was
Doyle that hurt my Hannah, you know that I’ll never be able to pin anything on her, so I need to take her down for every other crime that she’s ever committed!’

Archie Leonard placed a hand on her shoulder. ‘There’s more than one way to make her pay, Nikki. Walk out now, and it could all end, right here. For ever.’

‘Maybe I wish I could do just that!’ Nikki closed her eyes. ‘After what she’s done to Joseph . . .’ she ran out of words for a second, then whispered, ‘. . . but I have to know, Archie, about Hannah. I
have
to hear it from Doyle’s own lips. And I have to try to find Kerry Anderson, if she knows where that poor girl is, somehow I have to get her to tell me. And there’s so little time.’

Archie stepped back from her. ‘Yes, you deserve that, at least.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘Are you alone?’

She told him about Dave.

‘I’ll send one of my boys to wait with him, just in case he finds himself outnumbered by masked idiots all hankering after his police radio.’

‘Don’t mention that you’ve got Doyle, Archie. Just tell him we’re alone, talking.’

‘Naturally.’ He smiled at her. ‘I reckon you have about fifteen minutes before your colleagues ride by this part of the estate again, so,’ he pointed to a door, ‘she’s all yours, Nikki, but if you change your mind, I’ll be outside, and the offer still stands.’

* * *

The room was a grubby storeroom. Shelves packed with cheap own brand ketchup and even cheaper teabags lined one wall.

Frankie Doyle sat unmoving on the only chair. She didn’t move because she was tied tightly to the back and the legs of the chair, and had a wide band of duct tape across her mouth. Her eyes were wide with fear and the parts of her complexion that were visible around the tape, were a sickly grey. Nikki found it hard to recognise her as the woman who had so recently, and so casually, stabbed Joseph.

The room was poorly lit. One greasy 15 watt bulb hung from an even greasier light fitting, and it swung backwards and forwards in the draft from an old air-conditioning unit and caused freaky shadows to move around the walls.

Perfect! Nikki closed the door.

For so long she had dreamed of this moment. Played out a thousand different scenarios of what she would do if she ever got Frankie Doyle alone in a small room. Not surprisingly they had all been violent in some way or another, and most involved considerable blood loss. Her heart should have been pumping adrenaline at an alarming pace, and her face should be contorted in righteous anger, but it wasn’t.

A strange calm descended over her as she leaned back against the door and stared unblinkingly at the other woman. There was no hurry now. No one was going anywhere for a while.

Doyle tried to stare back, but blinked rapidly, and Nikki could see her throat constrict several times as she swallowed. For once in her miserable life, Frankie Doyle was not in charge and she was bricking it!

Taking her time, Nikki approached the woman, then pulled the tape from her mouth. Doyle gave a muffled scream and tears involuntarily filled her eyes, as the strong adhesive tore at her skin.

‘Mm, you seem to be more comfortable dishing it out, don’t you?’

‘Where’s Leonard?’ Her voice fell to a scared whisper. ‘Where’s Archie Leonard?’

‘Not here. It’s just you and me for a while, Frankie. And frankly I’d be more scared of me right now, than of Archie.’

Nikki stood closer to her, close enough to smell stale perfume and sweat. ‘Why did you hate me so much, that you wanted to kill my daughter?’

Doyle seemed completely caught off guard. Whatever she had expected Nikki to say, it hadn’t been that. Her eyes opened wider and her mouth dropped a little. ‘What?’

‘The bad drugs. You thought they’d kill her, right?’

‘Ye-ah,’ Doyle looked genuinely confused, ‘but what’s all this shit about hating you?’

Nikki stiffened, ‘So if I’m wrong about that, tell me why you hurt her?’

Doyle gave a humourless little laugh. ‘Because it wasn’t you, it was Hannah I hated.’

Nikki felt as if someone had kicked her legs from under her, but she kept her face stonily impassive. Why on earth should she hate Hannah?

Doyle’s fear seemed to fade, and for a moment she looked quite pleased with herself. She had apparently never considered that the inimitable detective inspector may have been barking up the wrong tree for so long. ‘So, you thought I did it to get at you? Well, well!’

‘What did Hannah ever do to you?’ Nikki asked, trying to keep the immediacy from her voice.

‘What? I’ll tell you what! Day in, day out! Whine, whine, whine! My mother hates me! My father hates me! He’s gone to America and left me with
her!’
Frankie Doyle’s eyes flared in anger as she imitated a petty, whinging voice. ‘Poor hard-done-by Hannah! Can you imagine what that does to someone whose mother and father
really
hated her?’ She stared up at Nikki. ‘Look at my arms! Go one, Roll up my sleeve! Either one, they’re both the same!’

Although she didn’t want to do it, Nikki pulled up the sleeve of the woman’s silky blouse. The skin on the inside of her forearm was a grid of old welts. A criss-cross pattern of long, narrow, raised scars.

‘That ain’t self-harming either! That’s what real hate is, and there’s more! Some nice cigarette burns! Wanna see them too?’

In spite of her shock at seeing the woman’s horrific scars, Nikki managed to remain silent, but Doyle was still talking.

‘See, you, Inspector, never hated Hannah. You loved her. You gave her everything she wanted, and tried to keep a proper home going, even though you had your poxy stinking job. And all your ungrateful daughter could do was plot and plan to get her own back on you!’ She screwed up her face in disgust. ‘Oh, don’t get me wrong, I couldn’t give a flying fuck about
you
! I’d just had enough of your miserable, bleating offspring, who didn’t know when she was bleeding well off.’