‘Okay, gorgeous, up you get,’ someone said. ‘It’s not like you need any beauty sleep.’
At first, Lucy was too fuddled to make sense of things. She sat up in the armchair, blinking, hair hanging over her eyes. Then she realised that the person standing next to her, the one who’d just shaken her by the shoulder, was Priya Nehwal.
The short but authoritative figure, shabby as ever in anorak, faded military-style trousers and trainers, was carrying a plate of buttered toast in one hand and two large mugs of coffee in the other. She nodded towards the door and set off. Lucy got up from the chair still groggy. When she glanced at her watch, it was shortly after seven, which explained why there was an atmosphere of bustle elsewhere in the nick. The night shift would be going home, and the morning shift replacing them.
Yawning, she walked out into the main part of the rec room, where a cleaner was mopping down table-tops, and a couple of the night lads grabbing a game of snooker before they headed home. A smell of bacon issued from the canteen.
Nehwal found a table that had already been cleared and plonked herself down, indicating that Lucy should pull up a stool. She pushed the plate of toast into the middle and handed Lucy her coffee.
‘White without sugar,’ she said.
‘Erm, yeah … thanks, ma’am.’ Lucy took a sip; it was hot and tasted like nectar.
‘Get stuck into that.’ Nehwal nudged the plate. ‘We’ve got a long day ahead.’
Lucy was famished, and it was all she could do not to fall on the breakfast ravenously. ‘What are you doing here, ma’am?’ she said, munching. ‘Do you mind me asking?’
‘Well, first of all –’ Nehwal took a bite of toast and a slurp of coffee ‘– I want to know what you and Wild Bill chatted about at the hospital last night.’
‘Ahh, right … he wanted to get in to see McCracken. I said no.’
‘Why?’ Nehwal asked, which took Lucy by surprise.
‘Well … I didn’t know what his purpose was. McCracken had already been shot once.’
‘Are you familiar with the Crew?’
Lucy was now wide awake and felt nervous about where this conversation was leading. ‘Only inasmuch as we all are.’
‘Because McCracken and Pentecost are supposed to be thick as thieves. No pun intended.’
‘I’ve heard that, ma’am. I just wondered if something had happened that could have turned them against each other.’
‘Well, if it has, and that’s possible, it’s highly unlikely that the Chairman of the Crew’s board of directors would deliver the death message personally. But I reckon you did the right thing. It’s anyone’s guess what would have happened in there. It was brave of you. Just out of interest, did you speak to McCracken?’
‘Yes,’ Lucy admitted, wondering if they were coming to the crux of it. Had someone overheard her conversation with her father, and did they all now know her dirty little secret? ‘But he was out of it … hadn’t really come around from the anaesthetic.’
‘Say anything interesting?’
‘Not really. Congratulated me on standing up to his boss. Said that he’d probably only turned up to check on an injured friend.’
It was only a partial lie, but again something inside Lucy twisted, left her feeling depressed as well as worried about the strange, intangible world she’d somehow slipped into, this limbo between law and disorder.
Nehwal nodded, seeming to accept this. ‘He didn’t say anything about who he thought might have shot him?’
‘Nothing like that, ma’am. I’d have reported that already.’
The DSU munched more toast. ‘I might as well put you in the picture fully. Something happened in the early hours of this morning, which, frankly, only an idiot would not connect to the McCracken shooting. A stolen bus was found burning on wasteland down near the old Bleachworks. You know that place?’
Lucy nodded. ‘The bottom end of the Aggies. Where the colliery used to be.’
‘That’s right. Well, the Fire Brigade managed to put it out, but inside they found two male bodies. The bus driver, and another one whom we’ve now identified as a former police officer called Miles O’Grady.’
Lucy shook her head. ‘Don’t know him.’
‘He was dismissed several years ago on corruption charges. Been working as a private eye ever since. The main thing is, it seems that he was in possession of an unlicensed firearm, which might very well be the same weapon that fired those shots into McCracken and his girlfriend. It’s currently undergoing tests. More important, though, Lucy, especially where you’re concerned, is that, though the post mortems haven’t been completed yet, and it’ll take a bit of time as the bodies were badly charred, there’s a clear indication that both men were garrotted with some kind of neck-wire.’
Lucy sat up sharply, but Nehwal was still talking.
‘Now, is it my imagination or did you say something to me on the phone yesterday about one of the dead dogs you found on the landfill having been garrotted with wire?’
‘I did say that,’ Lucy replied. ‘A few of them, in fact. Ma’am, does this mean—’
Nehwal raised her palm. ‘Let’s not rush ahead of ourselves. It’s still tenuous. But it’s now looking possible that the abduction of Harry Hopkins and Lorna Cunningham could be connected to a double murder. So, as SIO, the first thing I’m doing is having you and your oppos on the abduction case attached to the murder enquiry. Don’t worry, I’ll fix it with Stan. In addition, I’m arranging for a full CSI team to examine that dog burial site out on the landfill—’
‘You might want to hold your horses on that,’ a voice intruded.
They turned and saw Stan Beardmore approaching. He was sallow-faced from lack of sleep and wore a grim expression.
‘Okay,’ Nehwal said. ‘Why?’
The DI looked at Lucy first. ‘Apologies that no one told you about this sooner, but I’ve only just been told myself. It seems that doggie-grave, or whatever it was, has been incinerated.’
Lucy stood up. ‘I don’t get it.’
‘Someone drowned it in petrol and put a match to it.’
‘I put a guard on it. It was being watched all night.’
He shook his head. ‘Because of the extra security we needed at the hospital, not to mention the extra bodies needed at Crowley Old Hall, the bus station and then down on the Aggies, Nights had no one available.’
‘In that case, Malcolm Peabody should have stayed on,’ Lucy retorted. ‘He had orders to stay there until he was relieved.’
‘PC Peabody’s on his way to hospital,’ Beardmore said. ‘Seems the morning shift did have someone to spare, and they’re the ones who found him.’
‘What happened?’
‘Sorry, Lucy. You know as much as I do.’
‘Mum, it’s me,’ Lucy said.
‘I thought it might be,’ came the humourless voice at the other end of the line.
‘Look …’ Lucy glanced around. She was in the personnel car park, waiting by Priya Nehwal’s metallic beige Lexus RX. There was no sign of the DSU as yet, so she felt free to talk. ‘I want you to stay away from the hospital.’
‘Do you indeed.’
‘Mum, this really isn’t a game.’
‘Already, Lucy?’ Cora’s tone tautened. ‘It’s not nine o’clock in the morning yet, and I’m already on the end of another of your officious lectures.’
‘Mum … if you won’t listen to me, at least listen to the facts. There was a double murder in Crowley last night. Two men were strangled and burned. Very likely, in fact almost certainly, it was retaliation for what happened to your beloved Frank McCracken. And it might not end there.’
Cora greeted this with shocked silence.
‘These are very dangerous people,’ Lucy said. ‘And Dad’s as bad as any of them. I’m terrified that if you get re-involved with this man, you’ll end up getting hurt. Maybe worse.’
‘Lucy …’ Cora’s voice had changed slightly. There was less annoyance there now. ‘I know you don’t remember it, but … well, I was part of that world once.’
‘No, Mum … you weren’t. You were a stripper in a sleazy nightclub. Everything’s got a lot worse since then, especially where Dad’s concerned. Back then, his job meant throwing drunks out. It’s a thousand million times more violent now.’
Lucy was still stunned that she was having this conversation. The mere thought that Frank McCracken might even be vaguely interested in recommencing a relationship with middle-aged ex-flame Cora seemed surreal, if not downright ludicrous, except that he’d been so ambivalent when Lucy had laid it on the line for him.
‘How is he anyway?’ Cora asked.
‘He had minor surgery last night, but he’s okay. He was talking a short time after.’
A faint sigh sounded.
‘Can’t you just stay away?’ Lucy begged her. ‘For a couple of days, at least. I mean, St Winifred’s is a hive of police officers at present. DSU Nehwal’s on the case. She knows you’re my mother, and if she spots you hanging around, she’ll want to know why.’
‘I can’t help how I feel, Lucy.’
‘I know that, but … he just isn’t the man he was. You were a daft girl then, Mum, and he was a daft lad. Trust me, so much has changed … and much, much for the worse.’
Another sigh, this one deeper, more heartfelt. ‘I’ll stay away.’
Lucy closed her eyes with relief.
‘But only for a day or so. He sent me those flowers and birthday wishes, Lucy. He’s the only man who’s done anything like that for me in the last thirty years. I have to go and check on him at some point.’
‘Okay, fair enough.’ Lucy didn’t like that caveat but supposed she could work with it. ‘Just be careful when you do. Make sure there’s no one around who knows you.’
‘I’ll try.’
She’ll try. Wonderful …
The station’s personnel door banged closed. Lucy turned, and saw Nehwal approaching, digging into her capacious pockets, presumably for her car keys.
‘I’ve got to go, Mum. I’ll call you as soon as I hear something.’
‘Thank you.’
Lucy cut the call.
‘Everything all right?’ Nehwal asked.
‘My mum. She heard about the shootings on the news. Wanted to make sure I’m okay.’
Nehwal nodded and climbed in behind the wheel. Lucy slid into the front passenger seat.
‘We’ve heard from St Winifred’s,’ the DSU said as she drove them out. ‘Your pal Peabody’s going to be all right.’
‘Thank God for that.’
‘Someone clouted him with a blunt object. He’s had stitches and he’s got concussion, but they’re letting him out.’
‘We’ll need to debrief him.’
‘I’ve already sent that message. He might be on sick leave, but he’s only going home via Robber’s Row.’
As it happened, Malcolm Peabody was the first person they saw on arrival at the hospital. They were in the car park, climbing from the Lexus, when the tall, lanky figure, still in the suit he’d been wearing yesterday, now muddy and crumpled, emerged from A&E with ashen features. He didn’t see them at first and walked unsteadily towards the taxi rank. Lucy noticed that the back of his head now sported a huge plaster, and that streaks of brackish, congealed blood lay all down the back of his jacket.
‘Malcolm … hey, Mal?’ she said, approaching.
He turned dazedly, recognising her straight away, but not bothering with his usual cheeky grin. ‘Morning, Lucy. Oh, Ma’am … how are you?’
‘Better than you, by the looks of it,’ Nehwal replied.
Up close, he wasn’t just pale and pained, he was dirtied by smoke. He’d clearly tried to wash his face but had missed most of his forehead and chin.
‘Do you want to tell us what happened?’ Lucy said.
‘Got walloped from behind. Sorry, but whoever it was, I didn’t even hear them coming.’
‘Were you paying attention?’ Nehwal asked.
‘Excuse me, ma’am?’ His words were polite, but his tone hovered on the verge of insolence.
‘I mean were you tired or did they get the drop on you by using stealth?’
‘Could be the difference between a bunch of yobs with nothing else to do, Mal, and something more sinister,’ Lucy said.
‘Oh right …’ Now he understood, his expression turning apologetic. ‘I thought I saw someone, but I honestly can’t remember. There were weird things going on all night, to be honest.’
‘What weird things?’ Lucy asked.
‘Don’t worry about that now,’ Nehwal cut in. ‘You’ll have to put all this in a statement, PC Peabody, you understand?’
‘Yes, ma’am. Erm … when?’
‘Now. While it’s fresh in your mind.’
Delicately, he touched his left temple. ‘Nothing feels very fresh inside here.’
‘That’s as maybe, but your recollection at present is as good as it’s going to get.’ She slid her phone from her pocket. ‘I’ll make a call, get a patrol to take you back to Robber’s Row. Afterwards they can take you home, but before then we’re setting up the Incident room on the top floor. Go up to it and speak to Detective Sergeant Brannigan from Serious Crimes. Tell her I sent you and to explain the situation.’
He looked puzzled. ‘Incident room … for a police assault?’
‘Kate Brannigan will fill you in properly, after she’s taken your statement.’
He nodded as though all that made sense, even though it patently didn’t. Nehwal wheeled away from them, speaking into her phone.
‘Sorry, Malcolm,’ Lucy said.
‘Hardly your fault.’
‘I’d say you look rough as a badger’s arse, but you usually do on earlies.’
‘Cheers.’ He grimaced slightly. ‘When I woke up, I thought I’d died and gone to hell. Swamped in smoke, heat from the fire. Felt like a steamroller had gone over me. I had no phone or radio to call it in, so I tried to walk back. Collapsed halfway. Next thing, there was a uniform there.’
‘Least they’ve patched you up.’
‘Yeah, and shot me full of drugs, thanks to which I’m feeling dizzy as shit. I turn too quickly, and I think I’m going to faint. Sick as a dog too. Must have puked up about three times since they brought me in. It was black – from all the smoke I inhaled.’
‘It’s tough, I agree … but I think you were lucky, Malcolm.’
He looked at her askance. ‘Is that a joke?’
‘No, seriously. Don’t ask me why, but for some reason I think you were very lucky indeed.’
Peabody was still eyeing her sceptically about two minutes later, when a patrol car swung into the hospital car park. Without another word, he climbed in and was taken away.
‘Now, the real reason we’re here,’ Nehwal said.
Lucy looked at her. ‘Sorry, ma’am … the real reason?’
Nehwal set off walking. ‘I’m assuming he’s still in ICU.’
Lucy followed. ‘McCracken?’
‘Who else?’