Dan woke up. A great lurching, falling thump into the day. Seagulls were strutting on the roof, calling out threats and bragging to other birds across the water. He rolled over to sit upright on the bed and rubbed his face with his hands. Just for a second, he forgot about what had happened the night before and looked down in confusion at the rumpled clothes he still wore. Just for a second. Then the gunshot and the blood and Ian shuddering for each breath on the floor flew back in through the little gap he had left open and pinned him back down onto the bed, under the duvet, shaking and shivering with the shock of it all. It took all his effort and all his will to force himself up from that place of safety into the shower.
The face in the mirror gave so little away. If you ignored the black rings under his eyes, he still looked fit and healthy and ready to face the day. His own thriving, alive image made him feel sick as he ran the razor over his chin.
After he had dressed, he ate cereal and toast and drank tea on the balcony, feeling strangely and unreasonably disloyal to Ian for taking time to eat when there was work to be done. But, he was starving, and self-preservation had set in. He might well end the day suspended and under investigation for gross misconduct or, worse, incompetence. He knew that he had to be calm and rational when he arrived at the station. He wanted to break the news about Ian to the team himself and he needed to have a plan of action ready for the team to get cracking on, even if he wasn’t going to be leading them. With Carly’s murderer still not charged and a violent gang running free, there would be no point in them sitting round feeling miserable.
The morning sun caught the edge of the tiny metal table as Dan planned how to tell his team that he had been responsible for the death of their friend and colleague.
Lizzie Singh arrived first. She threw her bag in the corner and got started on a fresh pot of coffee. She gave the brown-ringed, stained mugs a scrub and dug a packet of Hob Nobs out of her bag. She didn’t need to be told that “last in” made the drinks.
Dan arrived to find her standing at the wall, tracing possible connections with her finger. It almost hurt to see her so keen to be part of his team. He guessed he was not more than ten years older than her but it could have been fifty the way he was feeling at the moment. He slipped past into his own office and waited there until they were all assembled before going out.
As usual, Sally was last to arrive, rushing to drop her bag and smiling her thanks at Lizzie as she placed a steaming mug in front of her. Sally liked to take the twins to nursery when she could, but it meant she was always cutting it fine. She opened her notebook and looked around . ‘Where’s Ian?’ she asked of no one in particular. ‘You can never get the bugger to do overtime but he’s usually in early.’
At just after eight o’clock, Dan appeared from his office and began the briefing. He motioned to Lizzie to sit down when she attempted to pour him coffee. He stood at the head of the table and spoke: ‘Last night, Detective Chief Inspector Ian Gould was shot and killed in the line of duty. He died bravely…’ He didn’t get any further for the gasps and denials around the table. Bill Larcombe, who had been one of Ian’s closest friends, laughed in disbelief.
‘Shut up, all of you,’ shouted Sally, and into the abrupt silence she asked the most important question, ‘How?’
The thing that had become most clear in his quiet hour of thinking that morning was that he had to tell the team the absolute truth. They had to know now, before the press and the station gossip got hold of it and twisted everything. They also needed to know what they had to do next. The bit he couldn’t do was to reassure them that he would still be leading them in an hour’s time.
‘Ian and I were pursuing a hunch about Jed Abrams. So we went to the studio last night to have a look round to see if there was anything dirty there. We thought porn, or maybe rip-off music. Ian also had a thought that Jed Abrams might have killed Carly and used his van to transport her body.’
‘So it was a legitimate part of our investigation then?’ asked Sally.
‘Yes, it was. But… we didn’t want to wait until we had a warrant. No magistrate would have granted one simply on a ‘suspicion’ of illegal activity, and we knew that Abrams would empty the place if we left it any longer. The plan was to pass it straight on to Vice if we found anything. It should have been a quick in and out.’ He flushed as he heard the crack in his voice. ‘I got the key from Chas Lloyd, the girl who works there. But, she evidently tipped off Abrams and the gang of foreigners who Ian and Sam saw at the Studio earlier in the day.’
Dan looked over at Sam Knowles, who had turned white. The young officer nodded, ‘I reckon they were Russian or something.’
‘Well, one of them was waiting for us. When Ian went over to switch the lights on, the guy shot him in the chest, through the lung. He died of a heart attack later in hospital.’
Lizzie Singh stared at him, her mouth open. The others looked anywhere else. He rushed to finish before he chickened out. ‘Chas Lloyd and Jed Abrams were hiding in the kitchen. Chas came charging out and tried to stop the gunman. He threw her over his head like a… like a string puppet, and she broke her back on the metal desk. She’s in hospital.’
‘But alive?’ asked Sally.
‘Alive, but facing a major operation this morning. She may never walk again.’
‘What about the gunman, boss? Did he get away?’ asked Sam.
‘No, I hit him pretty hard across the temple with my baton. It’s a bit touch and go whether he lives or dies. They’re operating on him this morning, too.’
‘I wish you’d killed him.’ Sam’s unsteady voice was echoed by others.
‘Sam, so do I. But I’m in enough trouble already. I need him to live. We’ve got Abrams in custody, too.’
He stopped then, and gave the team a few minutes to absorb the information. Sally comforted Bill Larcombe, who looked devastated. The pair of them wiped away tears. Lizzie leant back in her chair to talk to Sam, who was clenching his fists in his efforts not to cry.
It was Ben Bennett, the quiet one of the team, who put two and two together. ‘Boss, as there’s been an officer killed, will you be suspended?’
Dan looked at the clock. ‘I’m seeing DCS Oliver in half an hour, when she will make the initial decision. There will certainly be an investigation and a post-mortem for Ian before his wife can bury him.’ He took a breath and let it go. ‘I shall, of course take full responsibility for what happened. It was my bad call to go ahead with it when I found the outer metal door at the studio was unlocked. They couldn’t have locked that as it’s padlocked from the outside. Should have followed my intuition and got us out of there.’ He stared at the table top. ‘But I didn’t … And I am so, so sorry.’
He took another deep breath. ‘So, let’s get you sorted out before I get my marching orders. We still have a murderer to catch, and we have to avenge the death of our colleague, if you’ll pardon the old-fashioned use of the verb. I’m still in charge of this case at the moment, and I’m now convinced that Jed Abrams has something to do with Carly’s death.’
He let the lie slip out, and hated himself for his weakness. Hated himself for needing to validate his terrible decision to go along with Ian’s mad suggestion. How desperate had he been to earn the respect of his senior colleague? His brain had been stuck in a reel all morning: it wasn’t a red herring. It can’t have been a red herring. We were right to look. It was the right thing to do. But his heart didn’t believe it.
He asked Sally to update them on the arrest of Miles Westlake.
‘With the evidence from the post-mortem, it’s clear that Westlake probably had sex with Carly on the Saturday night. Although, we can’t rule out Jamie May on that count. Westlake is still a murder suspect, though, especially since he tried suicide.’ She paused. ‘Is Alan Braithwaite still in the picture, boss?’
‘Well, you spent a day with the family, what do you think?’
‘I don’t think he did it. He seems too genuinely upset to be faking it. I’d hate to be the one that did kill her, though, if Braithwaite catches up with him first. I think he was just over-protective of Carly and aggression is his first mode of attack.’
Dan nodded. ‘I think we have the killer either in custody or in the hospital. We just need someone to tell us which of our likely suspects is the guilty party, or get one of them to cough. Okay, let’s get to work. I have to see DCS Oliver in twenty minutes.’
Dan set Bill Larcombe to organising Forensics to search Abram’s studio and then to go to the Westlake house.
‘Sam, you have to continue looking through the studio security CDs. We have to know for sure if Carly went to the studio, or we’re stuffed. Well, I’ll be stuffed. Could Abrams have sneaked out earlier in the day?
‘While you’re out, have a chat with the music shop staff, see if they have noticed anything odd happening. First though, you and Lizzie get over to Jamie May’s house and give it a good looking over. We should have done that yesterday, but God knows how we’d have fitted it in. Anyway, get it done today.
‘And someone find me Jed Abrams’ van – it needs a thorough going over.’
Ben Bennett nodded, that was his area.
‘If I’m still your DI in an hour, Sally and I will interview Miles Westlake if we’re allowed, and speak to Jed Abrams about the foreigners. We should also go and see how Chas Lloyd is, and pop in on Claire Quick.’
He scanned his notebook. ‘We have to either formally charge Jamie May or let him go by four thirty this afternoon. And I’m not letting him go unless he tells us something, so I have asked for a twenty-four hour extension. Let’s meet back here at about five.’
Dan looked up at the clock. Time to face the music. He didn’t see the sympathy on the faces of his team as he walked out of the room.
Julie Oliver tapped her pen against her teeth and contemplated her office door. What a mess. She couldn’t take Hellier off the case without bringing in a DI from elsewhere. Her other Major Incident team was up to their necks in a people trafficking case, and without Ian, she didn’t have anyone else at the appropriate rank to lead a case. The advert was already out for a replacement for Ian, but they weren’t even planning to interview for another two weeks. She didn’t want to bring in a DI from a totally different area at this crucial stage in the case, and, if she was being honest, she didn’t want to admit that she’d made a mistake in assigning the case to a rookie Inspector in the first place. How else did you learn the job?
She’d endured the call to Marilyn Gould as best she could. The brief affair with Ian had been over ten years before, but she had still had a soft spot for him. Marilyn was hurting, and wanted a public humiliation of Hellier. Well, that wasn’t going to happen.
As Chief Superintendent, she was Dan Hellier’s line manager, and it was initially up to her to investigate the misdemeanour and decide on its severity. It was pretty clear-cut though, that suspension was the next step.
Oliver looked down at the statement signed by Ian just before he died. Technically, it let Hellier off the hook as Ian took all the blame for the visit to the studio. But Hellier was a senior detective. He should have refused to do something so stupid and come straight to her. She would have rushed through a warrant application, if they’d had real cause. She sighed. It was so typical of Ian to do something stupid. It was why she’d taken him off active duty in the first place. She did believe they were onto something major, though. Why else would there have been a guy waiting for them with a gun? Why would someone have emptied the video production room? How did the two pieces of this jigsaw come together?
She sighed again and, shaking her head, pulled across Hellier’s personal file. It read well at first. He had had commendations for bravery whilst doing a stint in the Drug Squad and he was well thought of in the Met. He’d done a stint in Vice. Apart from one time when he went a bit overboard arresting a drunk, he’d never stepped out of line until he beat seven bells out of some bloke who was chatting up his girlfriend. The file detailed the inquiry. He had been lucky to be offered a transfer. The psychologist had said the attack was out of character and had been a stress reaction to a particularly harrowing case he’d been on at the time, so they had shunted him out of London. I hope I’ve not lost Ian and replaced him with another maverick, she thought.
A light knock interrupted her thoughts. It was two minutes to the hour and the slim outline of Dan Hellier wavered through the rippled glass of her door. He entered and hovered near the doorway. He was finding it hard to look her in the eyes. Had it only been two days ago that he had promised not to let her down?
‘Sit down, Detective Inspector Hellier,’ she said, indicating a simple straight-backed wooden chair facing her desk. She called in her secretary to note the meeting.
Dan sat, took a deep breath and let it out slowly.
‘Ma’am, I…’
‘No, Inspector, that’s not how it works. You sit and listen, and then I’ll give you the chance to put forward your version when I have finished.’
She signalled Stella to begin writing.
‘This is the first meeting of the investigation into the death of Detective Chief Inspector Ian Gould and the serious injury of Chastity Lloyd and an unknown assailant. You have the right to be accompanied by a federation representative or a supportive friend if you wish.’ She glanced up at him but Dan shook his head. ‘Very well, noted. It is my understanding that you wilfully flouted the Police Code of Conduct to enter the premises of Jed Abrams without waiting for a search warrant, because you believe there is a link between the death of Carly Braithwaite and potential illegalities at the studio. You took this action because you believe there is something going on as we speak, and that there was no time to wait for the appropriately signed warrant because the suspect would have emptied the studio of evidence.’ She looked at Dan.
He nodded. ‘Yes, Ma’am.’
‘Once you were inside the building, Ian Gould was shot once in the chest and Chastity Lloyd was thrown against a metal table, breaking her back. You incapacitated the gunman with a blow to the temple, which could yet prove to be fatal.’
Dan nodded once again, his face bleak.
‘When the building was searched, you found nothing of any use to us in the investigation. Is that correct?’
He barely moved his head in acknowledgement.
‘The breaking and entering part of this fiasco is worthy of a charge of gross misconduct on its own. Because of your poor decision, we have lost a serving senior police officer and two members of the public have been severely hurt. I can accept that you disabled the gunman appropriately as you were unarmed apart from your baton. I just hope, for your sake, he doesn’t die.
‘I note, for the record, that the totally empty video room does suggest that the suspect had prior knowledge of your arrival and removed items before you entered the premises, which does provide some validation for your hypothesis.’
She looked up from her notes and surveyed him over the rim of her glasses. ‘PACE makes it very simple, Inspector Hellier, you should be suspended whilst an investigation is carried out.’ Dan raised his head and tried to meet her eyes.
She stared back at him. Then she turned to her secretary. ‘Off you go, Stella, type that up for me. I’ll make my own notes for the last part of the meeting and get them to you in an hour or so.’ The secretary left. She sat back in her chair.
‘Right, I am now flying by the seat of my pants, as they say. I will have to take you off the case as far as the ACC is concerned, there is no way to avoid it.’ She watched his face fall into resignation and his shoulders slump. ‘However, as we are so short-staffed at DI level, there is nothing to stop me stepping in and taking over, at least on paper. You can ‘advise’ me as you have all the knowledge, and I can then keep you on active duty in this ‘advisory’ capacity. I’m going to have to be very creative in the reports I send in.’
Dan interrupted, ‘Ma’am, don’t put your own future on the line for me. You shouldn’t cover for me. I broke the law and an officer died, I know the rules.’
She allowed a smile to lift the corners of her mouth. ‘I want to catch these bastards, Dan, and I want to catch the murderer of Carly Braithwaite. Ian explained why you ended up breaking into the studio and I will give his note as evidence in your hearing. He took all responsibility. Just makes you look naïve and inexperienced, rather than incompetent. He was the senior officer, after all, and should have known better.
‘The way I see it, you are my best chance to solve this case. So, if I have to fudge the truth a little to achieve those aims, then it’s my decision.’
‘But, how?’
‘No going anywhere on your own, or interviewing anyone on your own. Someone with at least the rank of Detective Sergeant to accompany you, and no writing up of your own reports, I’ll do those. Oh, and keep your mouth shut.’
Oliver cocked her head to one side, assessing the man in front of her.
‘You now have one hour to explain to me exactly what has been going on, and give me a detailed breakdown of your reasoning, the intel you have so far, and what your gut is telling you. I need to believe that you have the ability, in fact the capability, to solve this case. If you do a good job in persuading me you are competent, then that will go in your favour as well. Then you can help me draft yet another statement for the press, which I’ll deliver later this morning.’
Dan took out his notebook and flicked briefly through the pages, but she noticed he didn’t refer to it again. She was pleased to note that he had all the salient facts in his head. She was simply going to help him get them into order.
Forty minutes later Julie Oliver sat back in her chair. ‘Ok, I think I get it. We are looking at either two separate cases, or there may be a link between Carly and Abrams that we haven’t yet found. So the nocturnal visit was a genuine part of your investigation.’
Dan agreed. ‘I can’t give you a solid reason why just yet, but it just feels right. There is a link. Abrams removed stuff from that room, and it is important to the case. I bloody well hope I am right, after what happened.’
‘And we need to find out about this foreign crew and what they are doing in Exeter. We need to eliminate or charge Carly’s father, Jamie May or Westlake. Currently, murder seems a bit strong for a girl who was having an affair with her teacher. After all, if we believe the Daily Mail, this sort of thing happens all the time, right? So we need motive and opportunity.’
Dan nodded again. ‘The motive could be jealousy, as we originally thought, or it could be something totally different, related to some dirty little dealings going on at the studio.’
Oliver sniffed and sat in silence for a moment, assimilating the information. ‘Okay, Dan, I’ll let you carry on, as long as you stick to my rules. The younger members of your team don’t need to know about our arrangement, just tell Sally. I know this has been a disaster so far, but I also know you’re onto something.
‘You promised me on Monday that you would do everything you could to catch Carly’s murderer, didn’t you?’
He nodded.
‘Right, then, you’d better get on with it, and lord help us if this all goes tits up. I’ll second another person onto your team to help out, and I will act as SIO instead of Ian, bless him. Then you can get back out there and catch me a killer.’ She paused and checked her notes. ‘I think that covers it. So, anything else you want to say?’
‘Thank you,’ said Dan. ‘I want to say thank you for letting me have this chance and for not throwing me out, even though we both know I deserve it. I want to say I’ll do better and I will find out what’s going on. Thank you, Ma’am.’
‘Ok, enough mushy stuff.’ Oliver pursed her lips and sighed. ‘What on earth can I say to the press that will show them we are on top and in charge, and know exactly what we are doing?
The Incident room was a hive of pretend activity. Dan entered the room and found the whole team still there, shuffling paper, writing up notes and pretending to talk to people on the phone. So busy were they at the tasks he had appointed them an hour before, they pretended not to notice his arrival, too. Sally ‘suddenly’ noticed his return.
‘Oh, Boss, there you are. Everything alright?’
All sham activity ceased and they looked up at him, their faces leaking their emotions. Dan was surprised and touched that they had waited for him. He was even more surprised when he smiled and they let out a cheer.
‘So it was alright, then?’ Sally said, ‘you’re not suspended or anything?’
He shook his head.
‘Right,’ she grinned, ‘Sam, get that coffee pot on. Lizzie, open the biccies. Let’s have a mini-celebration.’
Dan was itching to get on. He wasn’t entirely happy that they had all disobeyed his orders and were sitting on their backsides, but he understood why. Even a rubbish DI was better than breaking in a new one halfway through a case, and they did need to know what the Superintendent had decided. The fact that Oliver thought he was still in charge meant that they could trust him, and they would work better with that knowledge.
He perched one buttock on the edge of the table as they gathered round, holding out stained and drained mugs for a refill, relief clear on their faces. He didn’t think he would be able to shake the darkness from the eyes of Bill and Ben, though. They had been Gould’s men, had worked with him for years. And they were right in their unspoken accusations. It was his fault that Ian had died. In his head, he marked up the list of people damaged or killed because of his bad judgement, Ian and Chas, and because of his anger, the gunman. He knew those worries would come back into his dreams and haunt him, but that was a worry he would have to bury for another day.
Dan dunked his biscuit and threw the whole thing into his mouth before it dropped into the hot drink, earning applause from Sam Knowles.
‘So, you all on strike, or what?’ He spoke with a mouthful of soggy biscuit. The door opened and a sheepish Adam Foster entered followed by Julie Oliver. The younger officers shot to their feet and Adam took a bow, blushing when he realised they had stood for Oliver, not him.
Oliver drew up a recently vacated chair to the table and smiled. ‘Just carry on,’ she said, ‘I’m giving you young Adam for a week or so to help out and I’m here to take DCI Gould’s place as SIO. I know it’s been a long time since I did any actual detecting, but I used to be quite good at it.’ She looked over at the flowerpot men and gave them a sad smile. ‘I just wish it was under different circumstances. We will all miss Ian, but none of us more than the flowerpot men, or me. He was my first sergeant when I was a rookie WPC.’ She stopped for a moment and wiped a tear away with her finger. ‘How on earth we got away with some of the stunts we pulled in those days, I’ll never know. He seemed to have no sense of fear or self-preservation.’
‘Well, definitely no sense,’ observed Ben Bennett in his dry rumble, a wry shake of his head the only emotion he would allow to surface.
Bill Larcombe managed a small smile in return.
‘He was a fool sometimes, and I don’t think he ever read the rulebook, never mind stuck by it. But I’ll miss him. By God, I will.’
Dan kept his head down. He could hear the snuffles and the blowing of noses in the room, but felt he could play little part in their shared grief. He’d hardly known the guy, and for the three weeks they had shared an office, Ian had barely spoken to him other than to wind him up. But he could not escape the feeling that he was responsible for the total cock-up the night before. He should never have agreed to such a stupid stunt. Stunt was indeed the right word for it. And the worst thing was that he had stood in this very office and had known that it was a mistake. And he had ignored his intuition. Well, he wouldn’t do that again. He would find a way to atone for this pointless death.
He drank his coffee to the dregs and looked up to find Julie Oliver staring at him.
She smiled an encouraging smile. ‘Before you all go off,’ she said, ‘I wanted to say that despite what the tabloids would have us believe, it is not common for an officer to die in the line of work. Inspector Hellier has assured me that this late-night visit to the Illusion Recording Studio was essential to the Carly Braithwaite investigation, and judging by the reception they got, he is absolutely right that there is something going on. Linking that slime-ball Abrams to the murder of Carly Braithwaite is as important a priority as nailing her murderer, and will be the best tribute you can pay to your colleague and friend.
‘So, I am your SIO. Send back everything as you get it. I’ll make sure I’m up-to-date with everything we’ve got so far.’ She stood and walked across to the whiteboard. ‘What have we missed?’ she asked, but she was talking to herself. The office had emptied behind her as soon as she’d left the table.