Like This, for Ever (20 page)

‘I got a text about forty minutes ago,’ she said. ‘It claimed this is the body of Tyler King – you know, the kid who went missing just
before Christmas. I came down first myself in case it was a windup. Once I’d seen the body, I secured the scene and called the MIT, who are dealing with the case. Somebody should be trying to trace the owner of the yard, get those gates opened.’

‘We’ll just have a look,’ said one of the men, stepping past her. His mate looked as though he was about to follow.

‘By all means check you’re happy with how I’ve secured the site.’ Lacey raised her voice to stop them in their tracks. ‘But there could be prints and other trace evidence. You don’t want to risk disturbing the scene.’

‘What’s going on?’

Two people had appeared now on the deck of the nearest boat.

‘We’re from the police,’ Lacey called back. ‘Do either of you have a key to the gates?’ She turned to the two officers. ‘Actually, can one of you get back to the gates and make sure no one leaves the site? People might start trying to slip away once they realize what’s going on.’

Neither looked happy at being given orders by a young female, but an unspoken message passed between them and one of them set off back towards the gates, accompanied by a bloke from the boat.

‘So you think it’s him,’ said the other, in a low voice. ‘The one whose body wasn’t found?’

‘The decomposition’s pretty bad,’ said Lacey, ‘but it certainly looks about the right size.’

‘Not good for the parents,’ said the constable. ‘I suppose there’s always hope, until the body’s found.’

A few minutes later, the gates to the yard opened and more uniformed officers made their way towards them. Lacey could see equipment being unloaded from a large white van. SOCOs had arrived. Then a man in his fifties whom she thought she recognized as one of the police doctors.

‘This your guv’nor?’ asked the uniform, indicating the slender, dark-haired woman who was making her way towards them. A taller, broader figure was following her like a shadow.

‘That’s her,’ agreed Lacey, looking at the man whose eyes had already found hers over Dana Tulloch’s shoulder.

Tulloch didn’t waste time with social niceties. ‘Let me see the text,’ she told Lacey. Lacey held out her phone.

‘I’ll be keeping this,’ said Tulloch, a second after she’d read the message.

‘Didn’t expect anything less,’ said Lacey, catching Joesbury’s eye again. She thought she saw a softening, a second before he looked up and past her towards where the doctor was crouching over the corpse. His eyes narrowed and then he looked back down at her again.

‘You OK?’ he asked. She nodded.

‘Why you, Lacey?’ Tulloch was closer than felt comfortable, looking her full in the face.

Bloody good question. ‘I don’t follow, Ma’am.’

‘Why did you get the text? I can’t believe you have no idea who sent it.’

In fairness, she hadn’t said that. She’d said she didn’t recognize the number.

‘I tried calling the number back,’ said Lacey. ‘No answer. I didn’t stop to think, I just came here to make sure it wasn’t some sort of joke. I called you the minute I knew it wasn’t, and uniform a second later.’

‘I’m not having this again. I’m not having some twisted sicko using you as his channel into a major investigation.’

Joesbury gave a heavy sigh. ‘Dana, how likely is that, and what the hell could she do about it anyway?’

Tulloch turned on him. ‘So you’re comfortable with the fact that, yet again, we have a killer fixating on Lacey? That seems perfectly normal to you?’

‘We don’t know the killer sent the text. We just know it was someone who knew the body was here. Far more likely it was someone who didn’t want to get involved in the investigation.’

Well, this was a bit of role reversal going on. The last time Lacey had worked with these two, it had been Joesbury on her case all the time, and Tulloch her defending champion.

‘Lots of people have my number,’ Lacey lied. ‘And it’s not difficult to find mobile-phone numbers.’

Tulloch glared, but Lacey was saved from whatever response she might have made by the doctor arriving back.

‘I can confirm he’s dead, if that’s any help,’ he said.

‘Oh, for God’s sake, when are you lot going to realize how tired that joke is? I doubt it was even funny the first time.’

‘Dana,’ Joesbury warned.

‘This is a child we’re talking about.’

No one spoke.

‘Is it?’ Tulloch asked the doctor. ‘Is it a child?’

He nodded. ‘On first sight, it appears to be a pre-adolescent child, of a similar age to Tyler King, and could well have been in the water for the eight weeks he’s been missing. We’re not looking for any other missing children, are we?’

‘Not to my knowledge,’ said Dana. ‘Can you tell how he died?’

‘No evidence of a throat wound at first glance, but …’

Joesbury took Lacey’s arm and gently pulled her away. ‘Give her a few minutes,’ he murmured. ‘She’s been off on one since you rang.’

Lacey couldn’t resist looking at her watch. Just gone one. Joesbury and Tulloch had been together when she’d made her phone call. Stupid, that that should have the power to hurt.

‘Sorry I missed you last night,’ he said. ‘Trevor told me you popped in. And then out again very quickly.’

Was there any point trying to pretend she hadn’t seen him? Probably not. He’d know she was lying and then she’d look stupid as well as furtive.

‘Was that your son?’ she asked.

‘No, just some random nine-year-old I invited out for dinner.’

Lacey stopped walking. ‘In the circumstances, that’s not remotely funny,’ she said.

Joesbury stopped, too, and turned to face her. ‘Yes, that was my son. His name is Huck. And I apologize for sounding crass, but Dana isn’t the only one who finds you difficult to deal with at times.’

‘Why?’

‘Why do I find you difficult? Christ, Flint, where would I start?’

‘Why is your son called Huck? I don’t think I’ve ever heard that before.’

‘It’s short for Huckleberry. His mother is a big fan of American classic literature and Mark Twain in particular. I spent most
of the pregnancy arguing for Tom. You know, Tom Sawyer?’

‘Easily the more engaging of the two characters, in my view, but I quite like the name Huck.’

‘It’s a bloody ball and chain for the poor kid. Half the kids at school mispronounce it and call him Hook, the other half call him – well, I’m sure you can imagine.’

She could, and if Huck was anything like his dad, she could also imagine he wouldn’t have much trouble dealing with playground shit.

Tulloch had approached again. ‘Lacey, did you pull the body out of the river?’

Lacey told herself to chill. She was entitled to be pissed off about that. Just not to let it show too much.

‘No, Detective Inspector,’ she said. ‘Had the body been in the water and had I thought there was a danger of its being lost, I’d have made efforts to secure it in some way. And I would have told you the minute you got here. The body was lying face-down on the bank when I arrived and I merely secured the scene, not touching it in any way.’

‘So who the hell did pull it out?’

Lacey had never seen Tulloch like this before. It was unnerving. She was used to the DI being on her side. ‘I imagine the same person who texted me, but that’s mere supposition on my part, Ma’am.’

‘Regardless of who pulled it out, it almost certainly went in here,’ said Joesbury. ‘The chances of a body thrown in the Thames getting washed up here are slim. The flow of the river just doesn’t allow it.’

‘So now we’ve got two bodies dumped along the Creek, followed by three along the Thames,’ said Tulloch.

‘Maybe there’s no connection with the other murders. Maybe Tyler wobbled on his bike and fell in,’ suggested the doctor.

‘Want me to talk to Uncle Fred?’ offered Joesbury. ‘If he’s not on duty, I’ll phone him at home tomorrow. I’m pretty certain I’m right about river flows, but it’d be good to have his view.’

‘Yeah, that can’t hurt,’ replied Tulloch. ‘Right, can you drive Lacey’s car to the station? I want to talk to her.’

‘He’s not insured to drive my car,’ Lacey pointed out.

‘Flint, SO 10 will indemnify him for any bloody car he gets behind the wheel of. He can drive it back now or you can collect it in the morning, which will it be?’

Lacey handed her keys to Joesbury. He let his left eye close in a humourless wink and walked away.

‘
IS THIS THE
first time someone’s tried to involve you in this investigation?’ Dana stared at Lacey, pale and stony-faced, across the interview-room desk.

‘Detective Inspector Joesbury has encouraged me to come back to work so that I can join your team, but, other than that, yes.’

Was that intended to wind her up, that little dig about Mark, Dana wondered. And how come it was working? A couple of months ago, it would have amused her. ‘How much do you know about the case?’ she asked.

‘Only what I’ve heard on the news or read in the papers. To be honest, I’ve been avoiding it. I’m finding violent crime a little difficult to deal with right now.’

‘Another coffee, Lacey?’ said Anderson.

As Lacey shook her head, Dana wondered if she’d made a mistake bringing Neil in on the interview. For one thing, men always had a thing about Lacey Flint. For another, he was just too damn reasonable at times.

‘One thing I should tell you is that I went to Durham prison today.’ Lacey glanced at the clock behind Dana’s head. ‘Yesterday,’ she corrected.

‘Again?’ said Anderson, before he could stop himself.

Lacey showed no sign of having heard him. ‘People in prison hear things. It’s not impossible that text had its origins there.’

Dana thought about it. ‘Not impossible,’ she agreed. ‘Just highly unlikely. Prison inmates do not have access to mobile phones, for one thing.’

‘Where there’s a will,’ said Anderson. ‘I can have someone follow it up in the morning.’

‘I hear you go out a lot at night, Lacey,’ said Dana. ‘Where do you go?’

‘I walk,’ said Lacey, with that cold glint in her eyes that Dana had always, secretly, been rather afraid of.

‘Where? Where do you walk?’

‘Along the embankment, usually. I’m fond of the river.’

‘The South Bank?’

‘Both. I usually do a circular walk.’

‘Not really the time of year for walking along the river.’

‘I dress for it.’

‘Do you walk alone?’

‘Always.’

‘Where were you last Thursday evening between 7.30pm and 9 o’clock?’

Hazel-blue eyes narrowed. ‘Are you serious?’

Impossible to back down now. ‘Perfectly.’

‘Last Thursday evening I was out walking.’

‘By the river?’

‘Yes, for a while, I cut back through Vauxhall.’

‘Anyone see you?’

Lacey let a slow, cold smile spread over her face. Her lips didn’t part, her teeth remained hidden. ‘Actually, yes,’ she said. ‘Some kids at my local community centre. One of them lives next door to me.’

‘We may need to talk to him.’

‘He’ll be thrilled. He’s following the case very closely.’

‘Did you know Tyler King?’

‘No.’

‘Ryan Jackson? Noah Moore? Jason and Joshua Barlow?’

As each name was put to her, Lacey shook her head, slowly and deliberately. Jesus, Dana thought. Now she could see exactly what had been getting Mark so wound up last year, when he’d repeatedly
insisted Flint had known more than she was letting on. There was something about this woman that was cold.

On the other hand, she really had to take it easy or Weaver would be on her case again.

‘Lacey.’ Dana made herself lean forward against the desk, closer to the other woman. ‘What you went through in Cambridge earlier this year would have been difficult for anyone to deal with.’

Flint placed one hand on top of the other and tilted her chin upwards. Dana had to admit that for a girl who’d dragged herself up from nothing, she had incredible poise.

‘And coming as quickly as it did on top of the Ripper case – well, I can’t imagine what’s going on inside your head right now.’

I’ll bet you can’t
, said the look in those eyes.

‘We can help, you know. We’re on your side.’

Two perfectly shaped eyebrows lifted.

Dana waited, gave her time. Flint didn’t look away. Dana felt her own eyes start to smart.

‘Interview terminated at zero one fifty hours,’ she said. ‘Thank you for your cooperation, DC Flint. We’ll be in touch.’

Flint got to her feet and took her jacket from the back of the chair. For a second, her face softened as she looked at Anderson. ‘Goodnight, Sarge,’ she said, before turning and leaving the room. Even after the door had closed and her footsteps had faded, her presence seemed to hover in the room like the faintest trace of a perfume.

‘Boss, you’re not serious? Lacey?’

Dana let out a breath. She had no idea why she’d just given Flint such a hard time.

‘I know you think we’re looking for a woman, and I’m happy to run with it, it makes some sense, but for the love of—’

‘You know her background, Neil. Abuse, foster-homes, drug addiction. She has a close and ongoing relationship with one of the most vicious killers I’ve ever come across. You heard her, she was there again today. The heroine detective, best mates with the serial killer she helped to put away. It’s a sick joke.’

‘Well, I grant you her visits to Durham aren’t the wisest—’

‘And that’s before what she went through in Cambridge. I told
Mark she wasn’t ready for an operation like that, but who listens to me?’

‘She’s one of us.’

‘That woman is damaged goods. And she will never be part of a team.’

Silence that spoke volumes.

‘I want a warrant to search her flat,’ said Dana.

‘No.’

Dana turned and looked at Anderson for the first time since Lacey had left the room. ‘Excuse me?’

‘You’ve no grounds. You’ll never get one, and if by some fluke of luck you do, we’ll lose her for ever. I won’t be part of that – no disrespect, Boss.’

‘You’ll do what you’re bloody well told.’

Silence again. Suddenly, it was all too much. Dana slumped forward, dropped her head into her hands. For a second or two she felt the heavy load of Anderson’s judgemental stare. Then fingers dropped lightly on to her shoulder.