Settled Blood (30 page)

‘H
ere we go.’ Gormley’s hand froze over a bag of cheese-and-onion crisps. Daniels tilted her head, listening, as Carmichael’s voice arrived in the
car.

‘No, I’m all right, thanks.’

‘Go on,’ the male persisted. ‘Let me get you one in.’

‘Fuck!’ Daniels glanced at the road as an old man walking a dog stopped by Freek’s BMW. She nudged Gormley’s elbow, worried about the stuff in the back. He opened his
door, was about to get out and intervene, when the dog lifted its leg and relieved itself on the back wheel.

The man walked on and Gormley shut the door.

Daniels wondered what evidence, if any, the car might contain. Forensics? Hopefully not just the dog’s. Everything? Nothing at all? Freek’s flat had given them zilch and she figured
a man that careful would probably have another vehicle in a lock-up somewhere. The question was: where?

Carmichael’s voice again, only this time more forceful. ‘I said no! Now get lost.’

‘You tell him, pet!’ Gormley spoke with his mouth full.

His crisp packet was now empty. He crushed it in his hairy hands and threw it on the Toyota’s dash. Daniels picked it up and stuffed it in his jacket pocket.

The male talking to Carmichael wasn’t taking no for an answer.

‘You want something a bit stronger than that, surely?’

‘Typical bloke!’ Daniels’ eyes switched from the BMW to the front door of Fuse where a number of students were now queuing to get in. ‘She’s given him the brush-off
and still he’s coming back for more. What part of “get lost” did he not understand? You think he’ll get the message anytime soon?’

‘Thought no really meant yes!’

Daniels gave Gormley hard eyes but said nothing: her sexist comment deserved his irony.

‘Look, I’m sorry, OK?’ Carmichael again. ‘Got really pissed last night. Still feeling the effects. Been chucking up all day.’

Silence.

‘Thanks for the offer though,’ Carmichael added politely.

The male again: ‘Oh, I get it. You bat for the other side, right?’

‘Aaargh!’ Daniels clattered the dash. ‘The arrogant fuck!’

Gormley stifled a grin.

C
armichael felt hot. And not in a good way. She watched Blue Eyes wander off, wishing to God she wasn’t on duty. In her own time she’d have decked him there and
then. Glancing back over his shoulder, he smiled at her. He had the face of an Adonis and an extremely fit torso: wide shoulders, footballer’s legs and a seriously sexy smile. A nice change
from the uniform bods she was used to looking at day after day.

Shame he was such a nob.

She gave him the finger.

‘Keep walking, dozy!’ Carmichael was still watching him when out of the corner of her eye she saw someone she thought she recognized. Dropping her head, she made like she was looking
in her bag. ‘Boss? Pretty sure I just saw Robert Lester. My twelve o’clock. Jeans and a yellow T-shirt.’

D
aniels was straight on the wire to Brown from the Toyota.

‘Andy? Lisa’s twelve o’clock. Black guy, jeans and a yellow T-shirt. Could be Jessica’s boyfriend. Keep your eye on him. But Lisa is your priority, understood?
Lisa
is your priority. You do
not
let her out of your sight, you hear me?’

‘Affirmative,’ Brown came back.

‘Is that soon to be Doctor Robert Lester?’ Gormley exhaled loudly, filling the Toyota with cheese-and-onion breath. ‘Well, it didn’t take him long to get over
Jess’s disappearance, did it? Thought you said he was gutted, unable to sleep, about to cut his throat over it.’

Daniels didn’t answer. She was thinking the same thing.

‘Not your type?’ a new voice said. A man’s voice, lower than the first.

‘Something like that,’ Carmichael snapped back. ‘Arrogant prick.’

‘Christ, she’s popular!’ Gormley said. ‘Never happens to me.’

‘Me either.’ Daniels shushed him.

‘Who was it said “Youth is wasted on the young”?’ The man laughed.

‘George Bernard Shaw,’ Carmichael said. ‘And I’m beginning to think he was right. I much prefer older men. Come to think of it, all my best friends are older than
me.’

‘Cheeky bitch!’ Gormley said. ‘You think she means us?’

‘I’m pleased to hear it.’ The man again.

Carmichael giggled.

The man: ‘Weren’t you in here last night?’

Carmichael: ‘Yeah, only then I was the one behaving like an arse.’

‘She doesn’t like this one,’ Daniels said.

Gormley turned to face her. ‘What makes you say that?’

‘Trust me, I know.’

Daniels was beginning to feel drowsy. She opened the window and then closed it again as a bedraggled group of youths walked past the Toyota, their smoke as well as their laughter and chatter
drifting into the car, making it impossible to listen in to Carmichael’s conversation.

‘Can’t take my drink, can I?’ Carmichael’s voice again. ‘Thought I recognized you.’

Gormley looked at Daniels. ‘Is that a signal?’

‘Shh . . .’ Daniels held up a hand. ‘She’ll tell us when she’s ready, Hank. She knows what to do. We trained her, remember?’

‘Bet you weren’t so proud of her last night.’

Daniels’ retort was drowned out by a crackling on the wire. People in the club began cheering and whistling, their whoops of applause followed by a continuous, ear-splitting screech that
made the detectives grimace in pain.

Removing his earpiece, Gormley shook his head. ‘What the hell was that?’

‘Microphone not tuned in properly.’

‘Main act coming on stage?’

‘We’ve lost Lisa.’

Seconds ticked by without further exchange between Carmichael and the man she’d been talking to. Gormley’s anxiety was palpable. ‘Why doesn’t she tell us what’s
happening. I think we should go in.’

‘No, Hank! Let her do her job. Andy has her covered. I told her I’d wait for her signal and that’s exactly what I intend to do. If it is him, he could make a run for it and
seriously hurt someone trying to get away.’

‘Not with my foot on his neck he couldn’t,’ Gormley said.

And meant it.

‘O
ne, two . . . One, two.’ The lead singer’s voice boomed out from loudspeakers above Carmichael’s head. ‘Testing. One two, one two.’

The band began tuning up and suddenly the dance floor was awash with people wanting to get closer to the action. For a moment, Carmichael lost Brown in the crowd and that made her really
nervous. She smiled at Freek, pretending she was enjoying herself. He smiled back in a way that made her stomach perform a somersault. She was still feeling unwell and the moving spotlights were
doing her head in. She didn’t think she could take him down on her own. Brown was still not in her eyeline.

It was time to call in the troops.

‘They any good?’ Carmichael pointed at the stage. The band were ready to play. ‘I didn’t think much of last night’s shower, did you?’

Freek shrugged. ‘Were you at the 3D disco last weekend?’

Carmichael shook her head. ‘No, I missed that. Stuff, y’know.’

‘I tell you, it was audio-visual heaven.’ Freek glanced at the crowded room. ‘You think tonight’s busy? Believe me it’s empty by comparison. You just couldn’t
move. It was truly awesome.’

‘Really?’
Awesome?
Coming from the mouth of a middle-aged man, the word sounded ridiculous. Carmichael finished her bottle of water. Freek held up a shot glass, offering to
buy her one.

‘Vodka, thanks, but only if you join me. What was it you said you lectured in again? Anthropology?’

D
aniels and Gormley were out of the car and running towards the club. At the front door, they showed warrant cards. A few girls in the queue stood back. Others scattered,
fearing trouble. The detectives pushed their way in through the crowd, still listening to Carmichael. She seemed to have everything under control, but they needed to get to the bar at the far side
of the room and that was proving difficult.

Fearing they might lose the target, Daniels grabbed Gormley’s jacket sleeve and hauled him back towards her. ‘I need to cover the exit. Why don’t I wait outside and you try
your usual on him? He’s so materialistic, it’s bound to work.’

‘You reckon?’

‘I reckon.’

Daniels turned on her heels heading back the way she’d come. Gormley pushed his way further into the club, twisting his body to get through the crowd. As he neared the bar, he saw
Carmichael sitting next to Freek. She remained in character as he approached. Gormley had to yell in order to be heard above the din as the music started up.

‘Excuse me, sir. Do you happen to own a red BMW convertible?’

‘Yes, why?’ Freek clearly resented the interruption.

‘Registration number, Foxtrot, Romeo, Echo, Three, Kilo.’

Freek bit his lip, a thin film of sweat visible on his brow. ‘That’s right.’

Gormley showed ID. ‘I’m sorry to inform you, but it’s been broken into.’

‘Bloody
hell
!’ Freek put down his glass.

‘Don’t worry, sir, madam.’ Gormley glanced at Carmichael, clearly having fun now. ‘We’ve arrested the individual concerned.’

‘Is there much damage?’ Freek asked.

Gormley nodded. ‘I’m afraid so. I think you should secure the vehicle, just to be on the safe side. Please step this way.’

Freek was already off his seat and walking towards the exit.

G
ormley led the unsuspecting criminal damage victim out of the club. Freek didn’t realize it, but DC Brown was tagging along close behind. As they neared the BMW, Daniels
stepped from the shadows holding up ID. ‘Stephen Freek, you do not have to say anything. But it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioned something you later rely on in
court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence. I am arresting you on suspicion of abduction.’

‘What are you talking about?’ Freek craned his neck towards his damaged BMW. He glared at Gormley, who was now holding on to him in a vice-like grip. ‘You bastard! You told
me—’

‘Never mind what I told you.’ Gormley cuffed his hands behind his back. ‘It’s what you’re going to tell us that matters. I just wanted to be sure we had your
undivided attention, sir.’

They were drawing the attention of clubbers making their way down the street. Brown told the crowd to move away. Daniels thought about contacting the control room for backup when it duly arrived
in the form of two panda cars with Durham insignia on the side. They screeched to a halt at an angle, effectively blocking off the whole road, allowing her space to do her job.

The Durham officer?

Daniels smiled.

Peering along the wet road, she held up a thumb of thanks. Car lights flashed, acknowledging her courtesy.

She turned away. ‘Check his pockets, Hank.’

Gormley frisked the suspect, seizing a number of items: his wallet, some loose change, a BlackBerry, a set of car keys. He lobbed the keys to Daniels, who radioed in, asking the control room to
send a team of crime scene investigators to search Freak’s address, and let them know they could also uplift the BMW for examination back at base.

Brown and Gormley put Stephen Freek in the back seat of the Toyota, flanking him on either side. Daniels walked along the road to thank her Durham colleague for his help, asking him to arranged
a lift for Carmichael who would stay with the vehicle until Northumbria officers arrived to take it away.

Daniels gave him the keys and went back to the Toyota. Pulling out her mobile, she dialled a number.

Maxwell picked up on the first ring.

‘We’ve got him, Neil. CSI mob are on their way. You can stand down as soon as they get there.’

Maxwell yawned down the phone and immediately apologized. He sounded relieved to be ending a boring duty keeping obs. She knew the feeling. It would be nice to go home and crawl into a warm bed,
but that was hours away for both of them.

‘Meet you back at the station?’ Maxwell said.

‘No. I want someone brought in for questioning. We’re going to need her statement asap.’ Daniels had reached the Toyota. She timed her words perfectly as she opened the door
and got in. ‘Tell him it’s urgent, OK?’

‘Tell who?’ Maxwell was puzzled. ‘Boss? Did I miss something? You haven’t told me who I’m supposed to be picking up!’

‘That’s right, Bryony Sharp,’ Daniels said casually. With her mobile between cheek and shoulder, she pulled her seat belt across her chest and caught Freek’s shocked
reaction in the rear-view mirror.

‘That’s assuming she’ll agree to talk to us.’ Maxwell still hadn’t twigged.

‘Yep, she’s been really helpful.’

Daniels rang off, leaving Maxwell to work it out. She drove back to the station making no further comment. After lodging Freek in a cell, she headed straight upstairs to the MIR to debrief the
team over a much-needed mug of steaming hot tea. When she’d finished, she picked up the phone, rang the custody suite and asked the duty sergeant to arrange an interview room.

‘IR3’s empty,’ he said.

‘Fine, we’ll be there in five.’ Daniels put the phone down, turning her attention back to the squad. ‘Right, this is what we do. Andy, as soon as the CSIs are finished
with the car, I want you to go through the contents with a fine-tooth comb. Log everything in the system and let me know if you find anything that’ll take us any further. Tell Lisa, when she
gets back, same goes with his computer. Investigate the contents, let me know what gives. C’mon, Hank, we’ve got an interview to conduct.’

They drained their teas. Gormley grabbed his jacket from the back of the chair and followed Daniels out of the MIR and along a corridor where the two-to-ten shift were about to go off duty.

‘Sodding part-timers,’ Gormley mumbled, loud enough for them to hear, smiling at the jeers he got in return. He glanced at Daniels. ‘Still, looks like we’re on the home
straight now, eh, boss?’

‘I’m not sure.’ Daniels entered the stairwell and went down two flights to the cell block underneath. She didn’t know why, but something didn’t feel right.
‘He’s not what I was expecting, Hank. I thought he’d be pretty switched on, organized, confident.’