Dying Bad (28 page)

She turned her mouth down. ‘Is it not worth seeing what they come up with?'

He waved an airy hand. ‘Why prolong the agony?'

Whose?
She studied Baker's still-bruised face as he gathered his bits for the brief, recalled the theory he'd mooted in the early days of the inquiry, saw him standing in front of the whiteboards gazing at photographs of the victims' injuries. What was it he'd said?
Three mugs left looking like raw mince.
He'd thrown out a question to the squad. Why batter someone so viciously? And he'd provided an answer. ‘Point taken, chief, but not so long back you were the one reckoned the violence had to be personal.'

‘I can change my mind, can't I? Or is that a woman's prerogative? You coming or what?' At least he held the door for her. Squeezing past, she again clocked the fading bruise near his eye inflicted by Wilde.
As long as you have changed your mind chief; as long as personal doesn't come into it.

It wasn't Baker's management style to ask for a show of hands. He was too confident to seek anyone's approval. But observing squad reactions to his thinking on why Wilde and Brody should be charged with murder, Sarah reckoned the result would be the same as asking turkeys to vote for a moratorium on Christmas. Bring it on. Looking round at the twenty or so detectives present, there was none of the backslapping and high-fiving that usually coincided with nearing the conclusion of a case. Low key was Sarah's assessment. More as if the squad was relieved to see the back of Operation Steel. Cops were only human – some inquiries had more going for them than others. This one had been a tough hard slog: lots of shoe leather worn out mostly on plod work.

Perched on a desk at the front, she watched Baker roll a shirtsleeve. She couldn't deny the chief's arguments had come across as sound: the youths admitted attacking Duncan Agnew, they had no alibis for the other attacks, stolen property had been squirrelled away at the squat, bloodstained clothing found, apparently prior to being burned. Cases had been built with less evidence. So why was she sitting on the fence?

‘OK, chaps, chapesses, you know the state of play.' Baker rolled the other sleeve. ‘Let's have a show of hands.' She tightened her lips. Well, well. What did she know? ‘Who reckons we throw Brody and Wilde some reading matter?' As in the book.

‘Sooner the better, guv.' Propped against his wall space, Twig gave a thumb's up.

‘
Encyclopaedia Britannica
,' Hunt drawled. ‘From a great height.'

Someone at the back hummed a few bars of
Why are we waiting?

Sarah cast the squad a glance, didn't bother counting: only Dave's hand was still down. He gave her an encouraging nod from his customary front row seat.

‘Well, Quinn.' Baker smiled. ‘You appear to be in a minority of one.' In the chief's eyes, Harries obviously didn't count.

‘Actually, sir,' Dave piped up. ‘I think—'

‘I didn't ask you, lad. So do you want to share the benefit of your superior wisdom, inspector?'

‘I'm not saying we don't charge them, chief. I'm questioning the timing.' Baker knew her thinking on it. Why belittle her? She brushed imaginary crumbs from her lap.

Harries raised more than a hand this time, he stood. Sarah watched his colour rise, too. ‘As a member of the squad, I think I have a right to say what I think. Sir.'

‘Do you now, Davy?' Baker smiled, slipped a hand in his pocket.

‘Way I see it, DI Quinn's point's valid.' She winced mentally.

‘Do go on.' The smile broadened. Her wince deepened. Baker was at his most dangerous when he played nice. Sarah pictured a cat and a baby mouse. The squad scented blood too; its posture sharpened in the newly charged – or not yet charged – air. As long as someone else was on the receiving end, Baker baiting a junior officer was a spectator sport.

‘Given what we unearthed this afternoon about Foster, surely we need to explore motive a bit more? I mean what if this guy Frank Gibbs turns out to be some sort of perv as well?'

‘You tell me, Davy.' Baker stroked an apparently pensive chin.

She knew the arguments, could barely bring herself to watch. Dave's white knight act was big of him but she'd not asked for help and any intervention from her now would only make matters worse. It was almost a relief when she felt her phone vibrate in a pocket. The text was from Ben Cooper. He'd heard back from the labs, knew she was desperate for a heads-up.
Get on with it . . .
She scrolled down. Shee-ite.

‘Well, it raises all sorts of questions, sir. Maybe—'

‘Chief.' Her gaze was still on the screen.

‘And you're paid to fucking answer them.' Baker jabbed a finger at Harries. ‘I'm not interested in your what-ifs and maybes. Bring me facts and definites, lad.'

‘Chief.' She glanced up.
Hello?

‘What do you think I'm doing? It takes time. Sir.'

‘And as of now, detective, yours is fucking borrowed.'

‘Listen up, both of you.' It was like a frigging school playground. ‘The blood samples? There's a match.' She heard the sound of splintering wood as she fell off the fence. ‘Go ahead and charge them, chief.'

‘H
ave they been charged yet?' Ruby Wells reached for the wine. She'd hooked up with Michelle and Lily in their local. The Lamb wouldn't win any Michelin stars any time soon. Unless they started dishing them out for tacky lino and cracked burnt orange banquettes. The young women had bagged a booth at the back. It looked to Ruby as if they'd been there a while, there were half a dozen dead WKD bottles on the table as well as the Soave.

‘Dunno.' Michelle swirled her glass. ‘Cops didn't say anything about that.' She'd ditched the customary Day-Glo gear for dark trousers, brown buttoned-up top. Her mood seemed subdued, too. ‘Will you talk to them for us, Ruby?'

‘I suppose.' If she'd known earlier she could've grabbed a word with Quinn at the hospital. ‘It's easy enough for you to pick up the phone, though, Mitch.'

She shrugged. ‘More up your street, innit? 'Sides, less I have to do with the fuzz the more I like it. They're not exactly my cuppa tea.'

‘Oh yeah?' Lily snorted. Her long white dress could double as a nightie. ‘What about dishy DC Dave? You told me he could take your . . . particulars . . . down any time.'

‘Yeah, smart-arse, but it's not me he's gagging for, is it?'

‘I can't help it, dahlink. Men just fall at my feet.' A pouting Lily tossed her head, sent blonde locks flying. Ruby masked a smile. The jokey femme fatale display put her in mind of a Mae West mini-me. The gesture caught the appreciative eye of a couple of long-haired student types at the bar. One aped the hair flicking, probably hoping to catch Lily's attention.

It didn't.

‘Not you, dumbo.' Michelle chucked a beer mat at Lily. ‘Didn't you clock him ogling his boss lady? Talk about fancying the pants.'

‘Yeah but who'd wear the trousers?' They both got the wine giggles.

‘Zip it, you pair.' Ruby wasn't in the mood, the hospital visit had left her feeling sick, too much food – for thought. She checked her watch: half seven. If Charlie and Shannon didn't show soon, she'd push off anyway.

‘Zip. Trousers. Nice one, Rube.' Lily smirked.

She batted a hand. ‘Come on, stop messing round. How did you leave it with the police? You went in yesterday, was it?'

‘Today. First thing. We had to look at a coupla hoodies.' Michelle frowned. ‘You look hacked off, Ruby. You OK?'

‘I'll live.' She gave a thin smile. ‘Come on, what's the score?' All she really knew was that two youths the girls hung out with were in custody in connection with street violence. Sipping wine, she listened as Michelle talked her through the visit from the cops, the fact they'd been unable to confirm alibis and that they'd recognised police exhibits as their now ex-boyfriends' gear. Ruby interpreted the fact they'd not lied to the cops as a good sign. Last thing they'd want is to land themselves in trouble: kids who'd been through the care system were invariably wary of the law, weren't good with authority full stop.

Michelle tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. ‘Being honest, Ruby, dobbing in Zach and Leroy was a pisser. But we didn't look to get dragged in to any of this. And we can live without it.' So the downbeat mood was down to guilt? Resentment? Ruby reckoned they needed to move on, however bad it felt, distancing themselves from lawbreakers had to be good.

‘Plus, they said they did it.' Lily ran a finger round the rim of her glass. ‘If they hadn't, it might've been a different story. We'd have given them the benefit of the doubt and all that. But what they done's wrong, Ruby.'

She nodded. ‘What do you want me to have a word about?' If the police had evidence, the youths would be charged. End of. The girls exchanged glances. Both took a sip of wine rather than answer. ‘What is it?' Ruby asked. ‘Are you afraid of reprisals?'

‘Of what?' Lily frowned.

She managed to stem an eye roll. ‘Are you scared if they're released they'll come after you?'

‘Nah. Safety in numbers.' Lily sniffed. ‘We can take care of ourselves.' Ruby wondered if it was big talk. ‘Besides they're not gonna get out, are they?'

‘Will we have to go to court, give evidence and that, Ruby?'

‘Yeah, and when's it going to come to trial?'

Ruby reckoned they were after reassurance rather than legal advice. ‘Hey, it's no big deal. I'll check state of play in the morning, get back to you.'

‘What is this – a wake?' Charlie breezed in, bringing a blast of cold air. Shannon was just visible behind Charlie's bulk. ‘Cheer up, you lot. I told Amy she'd be in for a fun night.' Charlie stepped aside, ushered the newcomer forward.

‘Amy, hi.' Ruby smiled, happy to see they'd taken the Hemming girl under their collective wing. ‘Want to get a round in, Charlie?' She handed her a twenty, patted the space next to her. ‘Come and sit down, Amy. I hear you talked to Caroline King last night.'

Head down, Amy stared at her hands. ‘Yeah.'
Was that it?

Ruby tried again. ‘She reckons you're going to cooperate with her on the book?'

‘I said I would. We'll see how it goes.' She gave a shy smile.

‘What book?' Lily sat up straight, all ears. ‘What gives? Come on, babe, share.'

As Amy explained, Ruby lounged back and listened to the excited banter. She clocked the hair flicking guy weave his way towards them, Charlie and Shannon just behind bearing more bottles and a can of coke. The guy leaned on the table, lowered his head towards Lily. ‘Hey babe, can I get you a drink?' Bad move.

‘No you fucking can't,' Charlie hissed, elbowed him in the ribs. ‘Beat it.'

Eyes blazing, the youth spun round. ‘Want to make something of it?'

‘Love to.' She grabbed his jacket, hauled him close, faces almost touched. ‘What do you suggest?'

‘Charlie.' Ruby cautioned. The altercation was attracting unwanted attention from the regulars. The face-off lasted only seconds. Charlie's expression must have made him think twice. He raised a palm. ‘No offence, mate.'

‘Wrong. Dickhead. You're offending my friend. Piss off.'

He staggered slightly when she released the lapels. Punters resumed card games, domino matches, conversations.

‘Can't take you anywhere, can we, Lil?' Smiling, Charlie ruffled Lily's hair before sinking onto the bench. ‘Come on everyone. Lighten up.'

Ruby tightened her lips. Charlie's protectiveness was touching, but not everyone would regard it that way. If she didn't watch it, one day someone would stand up to her. Even her mates seemed ill at ease. Lily eventually broke the silence. ‘This book then. What d'you think, Ruby? Is it worth Amy helping? What's the King woman like?'

‘Far as I can tell, she's straight, should do a good job.' Ruby paused a few seconds, looked at Amy. ‘Did you hear what happened after you met?' The girl shook her head, took a swig of coke. Ruby told them about the attack, that she'd visited Caroline in hospital.

‘That's a pisser,' Amy said. ‘What about the cops? They got any leads?'

‘Not that I know of.'

‘She a journo, isn't she?' Michelle asked. ‘Isn't she meant to notice things? What do they call them – trained observers?'

‘True. But you have to remember things first.' She started explaining about the memory loss, the occasional hazy flashback but she sensed fading interest. Charlie and Shannon joked around, and Michelle read the label on the wine bottle.

‘Hey, Rube.' Charlie perked up a bit. ‘You never said . . . did you find out about the crow? Who it was down to and that?'

‘Today, as it happens.' She raised her glass. ‘Trust me. There won't be any more trouble.'

‘Aw, come on, Ruby, you can't just leave it like that,' Charlie moaned.

Should she tell them? She'd already decided to ignore Caroline's warnings and take the bastard to task. Mind, it would be on her terms and her turf. Maybe a bit of covert back-up wouldn't hurt? She might run it past them. ‘Let's just say Amy knows the guy responsible.' No one named Ram. No one needed to.

‘Why'd the bastard do it?' Lily asked.

‘He cocked up. Got the wrong target.'

‘Mistaken identity then?' Michelle.

Ruby nodded. ‘That's one way of putting it.'

P
utting it to someone that they may have had a pervy past was a tough job but someone had to do it. For someone, read Sarah. The DI was at the QE anyway and had volunteered to drop by and question Duncan Agnew. Prior checks on the sex offenders' register and criminal records had revealed nothing and ditto emerged during a seriously painful interview. Agnew had been prickly to say the least, but if cops worried about pissing people off, they'd never get out of bed. Given Agnew's criminal clean sheet, Sarah's payback-as-motive theory was looking flimsy. Make that flimsier. They now knew the blood on Wilde and Brody's hoodies correlated not just to Foster but also to Tattoo Man. The youths had been charged with murder and would be up before magistrates first thing.