Cross and Burn

  ‘It’s a long story,’ he said. ‘And I can’t really explain it. But it’s all about different ways of looking at things. And how you don’t always think about the things you think you know about.’ He smiled. ‘A lot of what I say doesn’t make sense. But don’t worry, I’m perfectly safe.’

  She gave him an appraising look. ‘Are you sure about that?’

  He shook his head, rueful. ‘Probably not.’

  31

  There was an air of excitement in the incident room when Paula got back to Skenfrith Street. ‘What’s up?’ she asked one of the DCs on her way to Fielding’s office.

  ‘They keep their CCTV for a month at the Trafford Centre. Pat Cody’s picked up the vic on it. And it looks like they’ve captured the killer on camera too.’

  ‘That’s great news. Is he emailing it across?’

  He shook his head. ‘He’s got it on a memory stick. He’s on his way over with it now.’ He offered a tentative high-five and Paula returned it. Even if high-fives were childish American nonsense, building bridges was the key to settling into a new nick. Make friends with your underlings, build a bulwark till you’ve figured out how to make the DCI happy.

  DC Black had something else to add. ‘Devon and Cornwall got their arse in gear too. They’ve interviewed Pawel the Shit and the bad news is he’s alibied rock solid for that Saturday and for Friday through to Tuesday morning this weekend. He was either at work or shagging the arse off one of the chambermaids. No way he had enough time between shifts to get up here and dump Nadia’s body.’ The news didn’t come as a blow to Paula. She’d never had any conviction that Pawel had the heft for this kind of crime.

  She found Fielding at her desk, intent on her computer screen. The DCI barely looked up when Paula walked through the open door after a token knock. ‘Any news from the lab?’ Fielding asked, fingers rattling over the keyboard with the fluency of a touch-typist. Her hair had lost some of its glossy perfection; she almost resembled a mere human who struggled with the hours and the demands of the job.

  ‘Would you settle for a bloodstain on her jacket?’

  Fielding stopped typing and gave Paula her full attention. ‘Tell me more.’

  ‘I noticed there were six buttons on one cuff but only five on the other.’ Paula wasn’t in the habit of playing up her own role in investigations, but she reckoned she still had a long way to go when it came to making Fielding understand how good she was.

  ‘Have you been at the Sherlock Holmes again?’ Fielding’s tone was severe, but for the first time, she treated Paula to a sardonic smile.

  Paula shrugged. ‘I’m such a girl. Anyway, Dave Myers took a closer look and he reckons the button came off recently.’

  ‘So it could have happened when she was taken.’

  ‘Exactly. There was nothing to be seen, but the test for blood came up positive. We might have some of the killer’s DNA.’

  ‘That’s a good start. Fingers crossed that we get the DNA.’

  ‘And double-crossed that he’s on the database.’

  ‘How soon will Dr Myers have a result for us?’

  ‘In the morning. I also mentioned Grisha’s theory about the taser, so Dave’s going to check whether there’s any of Nadia’s blood in the relevant places.’

  ‘Good, that helps us build up a narrative for the jury. He stalks her, he walks up on her, he tasers her and boom! It’s over. Juries always resist abduction unless there’s a good struggle. But the taser ticks that box for us.’ Fielding’s laptop chirruped and she glanced at the screen. ‘Is that all?’ she asked absently.

  ‘You know about the CCTV at the Trafford Centre?’

  Fielding nodded impatiently. ‘Yes. Give me a shout as soon as Cody’s in the house. Well done, McIntyre. Go and get yourself a coffee before we look at the CCTV, it could be a long night.’

  Never mind the coffee. Now she had a minute to herself, Paula wanted to catch up with whoever was dealing with Bev Andrews. It took her a few phone calls to establish who had been put on the case then track him down. She found PC John Okeke in the canteen, working his way through a double all-day breakfast. He was a big lad who looked like he needed the fuel. If she’d been his boss, she’d have been more inclined to assign him to crowd control than investigating a missing person, on the basis of his unnerving size alone.

  She bought a couple of coffees and parked herself opposite him. He looked surprised, then she saw the wheels go round and gain traction. He chewed and swallowed then said, ‘Are you DS McIntyre?’

  ‘I am. And you’ve taken on Bev McAndrew’s disappearance, is that right?’

  He nodded. ‘Not that you left me much to do. Thanks for the report. And for doing the search. You saved me a lot of time.’

  ‘So where are we up to?’ She half-expected him to find a polite way to tell her it wasn’t her case and she should butt right out. But he was surprisingly willing to share.

  ‘In terms of results, not much further forward. I went to the Freshco you said she usually shopped at and looked at their CCTV for the hour after she left work. She shows up on the cameras in store. She picks up some milk and bread and sausages. She comes out of the store and that’s where we lose her. She walks into the car park and out of their coverage.’

  ‘Don’t they have the whole car park covered?’

  ‘No. The area in front of the shop is well covered, but as soon as you get away from there, it’s pretty sketchy. They cover the trolley return points, but once you’re outside that ring of coverage, we’re screwed. Sorry.’

  Paula sighed. ‘Bugger. Good thinking, though.’

  He dipped his head in acknowledgement and bit into his toast. Chewed, carried on speaking. ‘I talked to her colleagues again. She didn’t show at work today, no messages, out of character for a very responsible boss, no worries or hassles that anybody knew about.’

  Paula interrupted. ‘What did you think of Dan the man?’

  Okeke’s eyes took on wariness. ‘I thought he was straight up. Worried, a bit upset, but nothing that set my bells ringing. Did you think different?’

  Paula pulled a face. ‘Not really, no. I just felt he was a tad evasive.’

  Okeke swallowed half a tomato. ‘You have to factor in the way people get around cops. And around the opposite sex. I thought there might be more between him and Bev McAndrew than he was letting on, but he seemed more concerned than guilty to me.’ He speared a mushroom. ‘I know what you’re thinking. “That’s what people said about Ian Huntley during the Soham murder hunt.” And it might have been what the punters and the hacks said, but I bet it’s not what the cops said behind closed doors. We get a smell off the bad guys, don’t we?’

  ‘Not always,’ Paula said, recalling the killer who had come so close to ending her life. ‘But this time, I think you’re right.’

  He nodded, satisfied. ‘I also did a formal interview with your nephew —’

  ‘My nephew?’ Paula squeaked.

  Okeke looked surprised. ‘I thought with you and his auntie being civil partners, you’d think of Torin as your nephew too. Did I get that wrong?’

  Her first thought was that Torin was a cheeky little bugger, telling lies to keep out of the hands of social services. Then it dawned on her that he was alone and afraid and clinging to her and Elinor because he didn’t really have anyone else. Hastily, she backtracked. ‘No, no, you’re fine. I never think of myself as an auntie, that’s all. More like a big sister.’ Her smile felt false. Okeke was trying to keep his face stern, but one corner of his mouth kept twitching in a half smile.

  ‘Anyway, I spoke to Torin but he didn’t have anything of substance to add to your report. To tell you the truth, I’m worried.’ It didn’t stop him shovelling another forkful of food in his mouth.

  ‘We all are.’ Paula sipped her coffee. ‘What’s your guv’nor saying?’

  ‘If she’s not turned up by tomorrow morning, he thinks we should do a media appeal. Not with Torin, obviously. Just a release with a p
hoto and a request for sightings.’

  Paula nodded. It was what she’d been going to suggest. ‘What’s your gut feeling?’

  He wouldn’t meet her eyes, concentrating instead on cutting up a sausage. ‘Not good. Woman her age, no history of depression or abusive relationships, decent job, decent home, no significant debt that we can pinpoint. And a kid.’ He took a swig of coffee. ‘Women like that don’t generally take off. And they definitely don’t take off without their passport or their driving licence.’

  ‘I didn’t find the driving licence,’ Paula said.

  ‘It was in her desk drawer at work.’

  ‘You think something bad has happened.’

  Now he looked her square in the face. ‘Don’t you?’

  Paula stared into her coffee. ‘Yeah.’

  ‘I’m sorry. But there’s no point in pretending.’

  Paula pushed her chair back and stood up. She wasn’t a small woman but she was barely taller than Okeke sitting. ‘Keep me in the loop, would you?’

  He dabbed his lips delicately with a napkin and nodded. ‘Likewise. If Torin remembers anything…’

  Paula stood outside the back door in the lee of the building, huddled with the other smokers. She’d checked upstairs and Cody hadn’t returned yet. One short encounter with Cody and she’d already have put money on him taking a detour via one of the outlets in the shopping-mall food hall. Out here by the car park, she’d see him when he finally showed up. She lit up and called Elinor’s mobile, half-expecting it to go to voicemail. But she was in luck. ‘It’s your wife,’ she said. ‘Torin’s auntie.’

  ‘Ah,’ Elinor said. ‘It was his idea. He’s desperate to avoid being taken into care. Even if it’s only for a night or two. And your very charming colleague seemed willing to accept me as the half-sister of his absent father. He told me his family is also complicated.’

  ‘And you call him charming. Sounds like you had PC Okeke eating out of your hand.’

  ‘Police officers and their weak spots. I’m an expert. I’m presuming since you didn’t begin this call in a burst of enthusiasm that there’s no news?’

  Paula tried not to sound as glum as she felt. ‘In my job, no news is good news.’

  ‘That’s tough. Listen, I’m perfectly happy to keep Torin with us, but I think we’ve reached the point where we need to talk to his dad, to put this on an official footing. Not to mention his grandmother and his real auntie. Torin says there’s a facility called ArmyNET that lets him communicate with his dad in real time, so we’ll use that. Are you happy to let me take care of it?’

  Again, Paula remembered why she loved Elinor. What was it Tony had once said to her? ‘There’s nothing clever about being clever. In the MIT, everybody’s clever. What’s really clever is being kind.’ And nobody did kind better than Elinor. ‘I would be in your debt. As usual.’

  ‘I’ll do it when I get home. Torin’s going to a friend’s house for tea and homework. He’s going to text me so I can pick him up. How different their lives are from what ours were…’ There was a tickle of laughter in her voice.

  ‘I’ll catch you later. I might be late. I love you.’

  ‘Love you too. Take care out there.’

  Paula ended the call and, right on cue, her cigarette. She contemplated one more cigarette. She’d been good all day, not wanting to push her luck with Fielding. And she’d already been warned it might be a long night. ‘Sod it,’ she said, fishing out another and sparking up her lighter.

  She’d barely taken her first drag when her phone rang. The X Files ringtone she reserved exclusively for Tony. ‘Tony,’ she said. ‘How’s things?’

  ‘Has Bev McAndrew turned up?’

  No small talk, as ever. ‘No. Not a trace of her since she walked out of work.’

  ‘I went shopping this evening. I thought I’d go over to the Freshco on Kenton Vale Road. You know how it is.’

  She knew how it was. He liked to look at the scene, to think himself into the head of the victim and the perpetrator, to walk a mile in their shoes in a physical exercise of empathy. ‘And what did you learn?’

  ‘I learned a very interesting thing about buses,’ he said.

  ‘That doesn’t sound very likely,’ Paula said.

  ‘Round the fringes of the Freshco car park, the CCTV footage is pretty poor. But that’s exactly where the buses go.’

  ‘You think someone on a bus might have seen Bev?’

  ‘Of course they might have, but what matters is the buses themselves. They’re festooned with cameras. And they show what’s going on outside the bus as well as inside. Not close-up, really quite a distance from the bus. I thought maybe you’d get lucky and find some footage with Bev on it if she’s not parked close to the store.’ He stopped.

  ‘That’s brilliant. I knew they had cameras on the buses but I had no idea they filmed the outside.’

  ‘Me neither. It’s because you never go on buses.’

  ‘You think we should be actively looking for Bev?’

  ‘It’s not my call. But according to you, you’ve already got one murdered woman with nothing apparently problematic in her life. Now you’ve got a second one missing. Have you found the intersection between Nadia and her killer yet?’

  ‘Nothing definite. We think he may have picked her up in the Trafford Centre and taken her in the car park. But I haven’t seen the footage yet.’

  ‘And you’ve got another missing woman who might have been abducted in a car park. Plus they look kind of like each other, Paula.’

  ‘You think? There’s about twelve years’ difference in age, their body types aren’t that similar.’

  ‘You don’t want to see it because you’re scared for your friend, Paula. But they’re both blonde, medium height, medium build. They dress like professional women, not bimbos. They’ve driven themselves to the shops. One’s dead and the other’s missing. I know your precious Chief Constable once accused me of seeing serial killers round every corner, but sometimes I’m right, Paula. Sometimes I’m right.’

  ‘More often than not, unfortunately. I’ll pass this on to the uniform who’s looking into Bev’s disappearance. And I’ll talk to Fielding, OK?’

  ‘I think you should. I’ll back you up, if it helps.’

  Paula choked on her cigarette smoke. ‘Are you out of your mind? Have you forgotten how pissed off Carol got when I fed you confidential case info behind her back? Multiply that by ten and you’ve got DCI Alex Fielding.’ She sighed. ‘I miss Carol.’

  ‘I’m trying not to.’

  And he was gone, the phone a dead lump of plastic in her hand. Across the car park, she saw Pat Cody and another bloke get out of a car and hustle towards the building. ‘Showtime,’ she muttered, tossing her cigarette into a puddle and heading indoors.

  ‘What have we got, Cody?’ she asked, falling into step beside him.

  He tapped the side of his nose. ‘That’s for me to know and you to find out.’

  A flash of anger lit her up. If she let this go, it would shape how Cody and his mates treated her. ‘Constable, you need to remember who the sergeant is around here,’ she snapped. ‘I’m in your line of command and when I ask you a question relating to an ongoing case, I expect an answer.’

  Cody flushed. It wasn’t an improvement. ‘No disrespect intended, Sarge.’ His heavy eyebrows lowered in a frown.

  ‘He’s always making daft jokes,’ his mate chipped in, trying to defuse the atmosphere.

  ‘And you are?’

  ‘DC Carpenter, Sarge.’

  ‘I love jokes, me,’ Paula said conversationally. They climbed the stairs in a tight knot. ‘Only thing is, they need to be funny. Bear that in mind, Cody, and we won’t fall out. Now, tell me what we’ve got. Save the full briefing for the boss. Just give me the bullet points.’

  He grunted, but told her what she wanted to hear. ‘Nadia comes out of the cinema and walks out to the car park. Her car’s a way off because she parked up earlier when the place was ho
pping. A bloke tails her across the car park. He’s carrying a metal box, like a camera case. She opens her boot to put her shopping in the car. He comes up behind her. You can’t really see what goes on but he tips her in the boot, puts the case in the boot, leans over her for a minute or so. Then he gets in her car and drives off.’

  ‘We’ve asked the DCI to put a request in to the National ANPR Data Centre to track the car,’ Carpenter chipped in, sounding more excited than anyone should at the thought of data mining. ‘All the roads round the Trafford Centre are well covered. We should be able to track him without any problem.’

  They walked into the incident room together, greeted by a few whoops of delight. Fielding came out of her office and gave a couple of handclaps. ‘We’re all set up, Cody. Get that memory stick plugged in and let’s see what we’ve got.’

  Everyone settled down to watch the interactive whiteboard and someone turned off most of the lights. ‘Here we go,’ Cody said. It was as he had said. Nadia emerged from the cinema and walked through to the car park a level below. As she stepped outside, she put her bags down to fasten her jacket against the cold. The line of small buttons took a few moments to close. Paula recognised the jacket from the lab. Pity there was no prospect of counting the cuff buttons at this level of definition. Nadia walked forward out of shot. Next out was a couple, the man with his arm round the woman’s shoulders. They were laughing and talking, paying no attention to their surroundings, unaware that a third figure was walking close behind them, head lowered, hard to see. He stayed tucked in behind them till they moved out of shot.

  ‘The next camera picks Nadia up on the diagonal. Here she comes. Bottom right,’ Cody explained. Head down against the wind, Nadia was cutting across the almost empty car park at an angle. How often have I done that without a second thought? Paula felt a frisson of fear as the figure following Nadia entered the frame.

  Fielding took centre stage now. ‘Look at this guy. Study everything about him. Look at that case he’s carrying. Commit him to memory.’