After putting her children to bed, and a quick chat with Monika, Gardner eyed up her wine rack.
She then set herself up at her computer with a cup of herbal tea.
Boring, but sensible.
She intended to drag the internet for everything there was on KYLO, Helping Hands, Bright Day, James Sykes… the whole bloody lot of them! Her team was so light, and she’d already demanded that they went home and rested.
So, these hours before exhaustion finally took her were valuable.
It was also bloody exhausting trying to keep her mind from the other issue. It was constantly leeching away at the back of her mind.
Riddick.
And still no bloody word from Cecile.
So, within ten minutes of failed internet searches, while simultaneously living through several worse-case scenarios with her friends – which involved funerals – she stupidly looked for sanity in a bottle of Merlot.
She’d had an idea earlier, but had, for fear of setting a hare running, forced it to the back of the mind.
Now, she was suddenly changing her mind and feeling somewhat courageous.
Half a bottle of wine would do that to you.
She placed a call to the Digital Forensics Unit down in Wiltshire. Sandra Mills was a friend of hers from home. Their relationship was close and trusting. Still, Gardner was taking quite a liberty here. There was no guarantee Sandra would help; in fact, she probably wouldn’t. Still, she wouldn’t shop her for the unorthodox request, so there might be no harm in asking.
Gardner must have had more credit in the bank than she’d realised, because Sandra agreed to triangulate the calls made to and from Cecile Metcalf’s mobile phone to locate the area she might be. Sandra asked for at least a day. She, too, would have to call in favours to keep it below the radar. Gardner hoped to God it didn’t backfire on poor Sandra. She was one of the best, and Gardner cursed the half bottle of wine for giving her the courage to put a good friend in the firing line before drinking the other half.
Drunk and struggling to stay awake now, never mind drag the internet for every remaining morsel, she closed her eyes—
Her phone snapped her out of it.
Immediately thinking of Cecile, she launched for it.
Barnett.
She took a deep breath and tried her best to sound sober. ‘Ray?’
‘Boss, I…’ Barnett’s tone was off. ‘I spoke to my father.’
He was clearly distraught and, when Gardner heard the details of why, she wasn’t surprised.
‘Oh, Ray. I’m sorry. It must have been a shock.’
‘I’d an older brother or sister… at least, I would’ve had… surely, it still counts even if they didn’t make it into this world…’
‘It counts. It really counts.’
‘The pain Mum went through. I wish she’d told me everything.’
Do you? Really? Gardner thought. I mean, it’s important you know now, but did you need the burden of all that in your life while you were growing up?
‘She protected you.’
‘I can’t believe she shut it all away.’
Maybe she didn’t? Gardner ran her finger around the rim of the empty glass. But she had a new life… with Richard… a new child. You, Ray. Sometimes, you have to do what you have to do.
‘She must have been sad… so bloody sad inside,’ Barnett continued.
Gardner put the glass out of her line of sight. She was craving another drink and with what she was most certainly up against over the next couple of days, opening another bottle would be a dreadful idea. ‘She’d have been grateful for what she found, Ray. A loving husband, and a loving son. I don’t believe she was unhappy. And she probably didn’t want to say anything for fear of tarnishing all the goodness she now had. Still, I can only imagine your shock… Maybe it’s best if—’
‘No,’ Barnett interjected. ‘I need to work. I can’t stay in the house. Not now. And just because my mother was in that shelter, doesn’t mean she’s connected with Sykes’ death. It was a long time ago. I don’t think I’m compromised.’
Maybe not yet… but what if we establish that link?
‘Please, boss, I’m begging you.’
She gritted her teeth. Her gut was to refuse him. And, normally, it’d be a flat-out refusal, no question. But how light on the ground was she? Would Marsh give her someone else? Unlikely. And even if she did, would she get anyone nearly as capable as Barnett? Also, unlikely.
‘Office work, okay?’
‘Thank you, boss…’
‘But if the case becomes any more personal… if it becomes evident that Sykes died because of that period when your mother was there, you step down, no questions. Okay?’
‘Okay.’
‘And, truth be told, Ray, I need you. No one is better in the office with information.’
‘I’ve already started.’
‘Now why doesn’t that surprise me?’ I imagine you did much better than me over the last couple of hours. ‘Go on, then.’
Barnett explained. Some of which she knew already.
‘One of the other suicides was a Melissa Sale. She also miscarried.’
‘So, we now know of two women that miscarried, Isla Holt and Melissa Sale, committing suicide?’ Patterns emerging.
‘Aye.’
‘Shit… we need to get eyes on that internal investigation! I’ve got the request in. Any more on overdoses?’
‘There were four fatal overdoses during Sykes’ tenure. Overdoses are possible, but four is a lot considering that the homeless people were searched for drugs before being provided with a room at the shelter. It makes you wonder if a member of staff was bringing it in. But, here’s what really caught my attention…’
This is why he’s the best, Gardner thought. If there’s something to be found, Ray finds it…
‘Two of the five women who lost their children died from a fatal overdose. Tia Loom and Seren Rhodes.’
Gardner sat up straight in her chair, adrenaline flooding her body. ‘So, four of the five women who experienced miscarriages never made it out?’
‘That’s correct. Tia and Seren, overdose. Isla and Melissa, suicide. The only person who made it out was my mother, Amina.’
Who’d now also passed, Gardner thought. There was no need to state the obvious.
‘Good Lord.’ Gardner took a deep breath. It was the type of revelation that demanded you were straight on your feet and into work. Except, she was currently quite pissed, and she wondered who she could contact at this time of night.
Gardner only realised after being lost in her thoughts for a while that Barnett had gone quiet.
‘I’m sorry, Ray.’
‘All these poor women. Yet, my mother survived. I bet she felt so guilty. These broken people around her. Suicides. Overdoses. I wish she was still here, boss, so I could hold her… help her… tell her we will find the truth.’
Her sympathy for Barnett was immense, but if there had, indeed, been a conspiracy to silence four out of five women, why did Amina Ndiaye walk away?
And there was absolutely no doubt that a bright spark like Ray hadn’t considered it.
She imagined it’d be the first thing out of Rice’s mouth in briefing.
With that on her mind, she’d no choice. ‘Ray, I want you to stay home first thing. You at least take the morning off. Work from home. I’ll phone you early afternoon—’
‘Boss—’
‘I’m sorry, Ray. I’m sorry for everything that you’ve just found out. But that’s my decision. Tomorrow afternoon. Sit tight and keep researching.’
And maybe, when I rule your mother out, you can come back in.
* * *
After Gardner had contacted Rice to fill him in, she cancelled the briefing anyway. It felt more logical to head straight to the Bright Day shelter first thing.
‘The sooner we find out what the bastard government and the blood-sucking pricks KYLO are burying, the better,’ Rice had said. ‘Never been a huge fan of Ray. Stand-offish, you know? But shit, that’s some weight to carry!’
‘Yes,’ Gardner said, appreciating Rice’s sympathies even if they came dressed up in their usual bullish costume.
‘One thing is bothering me…’
Here we go.
‘Why did his mother get a pass, eh?’
‘We’ll sleep on it. See you first thing.’ She hung up before he’d any more opportunities to voice his concern.
Hoping to flush some of the alcohol from her system, she drank a pint and a half of water and went to bed. She’d no hope of being fresh now, but she could try to mitigate the damage.
In bed, her mind gravitated towards Lucy O’Brien.
She’d been there for Gardner, pretty much constantly, but had been forced to take a back seat to her concerns over Riddick and Cecile, and Operation Gearchange.
After double checking her phone to confirm that she’d not missed a message, she considered whether to send one.
Their relationship was going nowhere, of course. At least, not in how O’Brien, and potentially Gardner, would really like. It was dead in the water. It had to be. It wasn’t even open for debate.
Despite this, Gardner held the friendship in high regard and wanted to ensure its survival.
Would a text message this late send off more false signals though?
Oh, whatever!
Maybe it was the bottle of wine, but she rattled one off.
She deleted the X before sending it.
She waited for a reply, but none came.
Before she fell asleep, however, Marsh came good on her promise, texting the names of three officers joining the operation tomorrow.
They were all capable.
She fell asleep with a smile on her face, especially as one name had been Lucy O’Brien.