‘You’re doing what?’
Annie Delamere could see a couple of her colleagues in the open-plan office look over in curiosity at her semi-yelped question. She reminded herself yet again that it was best to lower your voice in this environment. Though that was often a challenge when she was on the phone to her mother.
‘It’s just a pilot. They may never show it.’
Annie could almost envisage the expression on her mother’s face as she spoke those words. She knew exactly how much she was succeeding in winding up her daughter, and she was no doubt enjoying every minute.
‘Mum, it was one of Mo Henley’s supporters behind what happened to Sheena the other day. He’s just a racist thug.’
‘He may well be but he’s entitled to his views.’
‘Not if he’s inciting racial hatred, he isn’t. You know all this better than I do.’
‘He won’t be inciting racial hatred on any programme I’m involved in. And the whole point is to challenge his opinions.’
‘While giving him a platform to express them.’
‘You know my views on de-platforming, or whatever idiotic term it is they use for silencing free speech.’
They could go round this loop all day, and Annie knew there was no point. As always, her mother would do what she wanted to do and nothing could be done to stop her. ‘You’re really doing a television series?’
‘It’s not a series. It’s just a pilot for a possible slot on the local politics programme. The idea is to do challenging interviews with provocative political figures, which is why they’ve gone for Henley for the pilot. They’re looking to liven things up, and because I’ve appeared on there a few times, they thought of me. But it could be the start of a whole new career, even at my age.’
Annie sighed. There were countless reasons for her to dislike this idea. The ribbing she’d no doubt get from her colleagues here. The glee that her mother would take in adopting positions she knew would cause her daughter maximum embarrassment. The fact that so many people here still assumed that Annie had only reached her current rank because of some behind-the-scenes influencing from her mother. That assumption would become even more prevalent if her mother’s public profile continued to grow.
But there was nothing she could do to prevent her mother doing this. It might sometimes seem as if her mother’s sole motive was to embarrass her daughter, but Annie didn’t really believe that was really the case. She was doing this because she wanted to. And why shouldn’t she? She was retired. She was divorced. She probably needed a hobby. But why the hell did it have to be this?
‘I just hope you know what you’re doing, Mum. I don’t want you to end up making a fool of yourself—’
She regretted the words as soon as she’d spoken them, and sure enough her mother’s retort was immediate. ‘You always know how to fill me with confidence, Annie. You seem to think it’s your life’s work to undermine me and my reputation. Can I just remind you that I progressed further in the force than you’re ever likely to…’
Annie had repeatedly told herself that her mother’s accusations at moments like this were nothing more than what psychologists call ‘projection’, but that didn’t prevent her from feeling guilty. ‘You know that’s not what I mean. It’s just that this is all new to you—’
‘And that’s why it’s exciting. I don’t know why you can’t just be pleased for me.’
‘I am. Congratulations. Look, Mum, I’ve really got to go now.’ There really was no point in yet again pointing out why this kind of development was less than ideal for Annie.
‘Of course you have. Far too busy to talk to me.’
This from the woman whom Annie Delamere had barely seen throughout her childhood. The woman who was always too busy to be there for her bedtimes or to come to school performances. The woman whose career had always come before everything, including her daughter and her marriage. ‘I’ll give you a call tonight, okay?’
‘How is Sheena, anyway? I hope she’s okay.’
Typical of her mother to finally mention Sheena’s welfare, as an afterthought when Annie was trying to wrap up the call. ‘She’s fine. A bit shaken but fine. I’ll pass on your good wishes.’ The last sentence came out as more sarcastic than she’d intended, but she was almost past caring. ‘I’ll call you tonight. Bye, Mum.’
She ended the call before her mother could say anything more, then looked up to see Stuart Jennings standing in front of her desk, grinning broadly. He’d obviously arrived at some point while she’d had her head down, struggling to hold onto the last threads of patience with her mother. She didn’t know how much of the conversation he’d actually overheard.
‘The blessed Margaret, I assume?’
‘The one and only.’
‘What’s she up to?’
‘This and that.’ She had no intention of sharing her mother’s news with Jennings. ‘Like she always is.’
‘Busy woman. Talking of which, I hear you had an eventful evening.’
‘You might say that.’
‘Just been talking to Andy Dwyer. He’s heading out to talk to Sheena today. You’ve no problem with that?’
‘Why would I have? The sooner we get this sorted, the better.’
‘He wanted to have a chat with you first. Just informally to get a bit of background. He’s going to call you, but I thought I’d give you the heads-up in advance. Just so he doesn’t catch you on the hop.’
‘Happy to talk to him, formally or otherwise. But I don’t know how much I’ll be able to tell him. Sheena’s the one he really needs to talk to.’
‘To be honest, I think he’s mainly concerned about the sensitivities of the investigation. He’s aware how high-profile it is and he doesn’t want to screw up. He just wants to pick your brains to make sure he doesn’t say anything out of turn.’
‘To Sheena?’ Annie laughed. ‘She wouldn’t care what he said. She’s not exactly the high and mighty type.’
‘You know that. Andy doesn’t. To him, she’s a public figure who’s in a position to make a lot of capital about any aspects of the investigation she’s not happy with. He just wants to get it right.’
‘All she wants is for us to catch the bastard who did it. She’s honestly not too fussed about the niceties.’
‘That’s what we all want. Andy especially. Anyway, he’ll be in contact with both of you this morning.’
‘Sooner the better as far as I’m concerned—’ She was about to say something more when her mobile buzzed on the desk. She glanced at the screen. ‘Zoe. I’d better take it. She’s been out talking to Darren Parkin’s employer. The only lead that Jonny Garfield was prepared to give us.’
‘I’ll leave you to it.’ Jennings rose and waved a vague farewell as she picked up the phone.
‘Zoe? How’d you get on?’
‘It’s been interesting. The manager was around, fortunately, and she was as helpful as she could be. Darren did work there for a while, but not for some time. She reckoned he seemed a decent-enough lad, willing worker, all that, but not the brightest. His employment record was patchy, she said, but it looked as if it was mainly because he’d been laid off or made redundant rather than through any fault of his. No real qualifications, so the world wasn’t exactly his oyster. He’d made noises about wanted to get on in catering, and she’d tried to encourage him in that. But he didn’t turn in a few months back and they didn’t see him again. She’d been a bit surprised because he’d been pretty reliable up to that point, but he wasn’t the first who’d let them down.’
‘Goes with the minimum-wage territory, I’m guessing.’
‘That’s more or less what she said, though a bit more diplomatically. But she’d been particularly surprised in this case because the owner had apparently taken a bit of a shine to him.’
‘Really?’
‘Name meant nothing to me, but he’s apparently a guy with a few bars and clubs around the area. Does very well for himself, she reckoned. She said he’s always looking for employees with potential and she’d mentioned Darren as someone who seemed to want to get on. The owner had had a few chats with him, and she’d thought Darren appreciated the attention.’
‘Poor kid. When the biggest opportunity in your life is being a kitchen porter in a cafe.’
‘Some people don’t even get that,’ Zoe pointed out.
‘How did she react when you told her what had happened to Darren?’
‘As you’d expect. Shocked. Couldn’t believe it could have happened to someone like him. She couldn’t imagine why anyone would have a reason to harm him. Just the usual, really.’
‘And she had no idea what might have happened to him since he’d stopped working there?’
‘So she said.’
‘Doesn’t take us very far, does it?’
‘Not really, other than filling in his background. The main thing I got out of it was his home address. Guess what?’
‘I’m not sure I’ve got the brainpower for all this guessing, Zo. Go on.’
‘It’s just a few streets from Jonny Garfield. There’s no way Garfield couldn’t have known where he lived.’
‘Not a surprise that Garfield was lying. I’m just wondering why he bothered. He must have known we’d find out.’
‘I didn’t get the impression that he was being particularly rational yesterday.’
‘That’s one way of putting it. We’ll have to pay him another visit. Keep the pressure on. He’ll talk to us eventually. When he realises that we’re probably the closest thing he’s got to a friend.’
‘You want me to go and check out Darren’s address?’
‘Why don’t we go together? Don’t know if we’ll be able to gain access, but we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. You go and grab a bite to eat, and I’ll head into the city centre. I’ve just got to see a man about an MP, and I’ll be on my way.’
‘A man about an MP?’
‘Andy Dwyer.’
‘Ah. How’s he getting on?’
‘That’s one thing I want to find out.’ She’d already told Zoe about the previous night’s developments. ‘I don’t know if we’re still in lone fanatic territory or somewhere even more sinister, but the sooner we sort this, the more comfortable I’ll be.’