Thankfully the rain had stopped. Daniels didn’t need her wipers on. Freek’s red BMW three series was parked twenty metres away in a line of cars, directly beneath a street lamp. From her position, she could observe both the car and the front door of the club they called Fuse. Her first and only priority was to preserve life. She was desperate to examine the BMW, make sure that Jessica wasn’t tied up in the boot.
‘Hank, get the jemmy out,’ she said.
Gormley got out. He went to the rear of the Toyota, opened the tailgate and took something from the back. Then he walked nonchalantly across the road and popped the boot of the BMW. He shook his head, jammed the boot shut as best he could and then returned to the others.
‘There’s all sorts in there,’ he said as he got back in the car. ‘Laptop, few boxes, other stuff I couldn’t make out. But no rolled-up carpets with girls inside.’
‘Good. Now keep your bloody eye on it.’ Daniels didn’t mind his black humour. It was his way of coping. Self defence against the things that concerned him most. His emotional connection to the case was as strong as hers. She never doubted that. Pushing a button on her radio, she began to transmit. ‘Pete, we’re now in position, keeping obs on target. The vehicle has been examined in situ. Jessica Finch is not inside. I repeat, Jessica Finch is not inside. Relay that to the MIR for me, will you? No sign of the driver yet. As soon as he’s been located I’m going to need a low-loader here to uplift the vehicle forensically. Might be advisable to give the CSIs the heads up on that.’
Gormley began grumbling about the name change. When they had joined the police, Crime Scene Investigators were known as scenes of crime officers, or SOCO. A poncy new name didn’t change what they did and wasn’t required in his opinion. CSI Northumbria was hardly CSI Miami, was it? Sexing up departments was the wrong way to go, incurring an expense the force could utilize to better effect elsewhere.
‘Stop bleating, will you?’ Although she agreed with him totally, Daniels had more pressing matters on her mind. She depressed the button on her radio. ‘Any chance you could ask the reporting officer to identify himself and stand by until we’re done, Pete? The BMW is no longer secure.’
‘That’s a roger,’ Brooks came back.
Seconds later, a car further down the street flashed its lights once.
Daniels did likewise, then cut her ignition.
She swivelled round to face her DCs. ‘You ready to make a name for yourselves?’
Brown and Carmichael both nodded, eager to get going.
‘Off you go then. You first, Andy.’
Brown got out and made his way along the road past Freek’s BMW. From the Toyota, three pairs of eyes watched him until he disappeared inside the nightclub. A few seconds later, Carmichael followed him in.
The place was heaving when she entered, even more so than the night before. Carmichael made a beeline for the bar, bought a bottle of water, and turned to face the throng of bodies already on the dance floor. Stephen Freek was not among them, as far as she could tell, but directly opposite the bar she spotted Brown’s distinctive pink Superdry T-shirt that, it had to be said, clashed spectacularly with his red hair.
Carmichael’s eyes followed Brown to the nearest table, where a skinny kid was sitting on his own without a drink. He was wearing ripped baggy jeans, a short-sleeved shirt that was far too small for him and tats on his arms he couldn’t quite pull off. As Brown was talking to the lad, an equally skinny girl joined them, carrying a beer in both hands. She exchanged a few words with Brown, who pulled up a chair and sat down.
‘Can I buy you a proper drink?’ a voice behind Carmichael said.
Feeling Brown’s eyes upon her, Lisa Carmichael swung round on her bar stool and came face to face with a pair of steely blue eyes.
‘Here 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.
Carmichael 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.’
Daniels 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.
‘One, 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?’
Daniels 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.