Bad Blood (27 page)

Lexi, Big K and Riley. The sooner they were dead the sooner he’d be free.

The drama of Tuesday – Riley going missing and the accident with Calter and Enders – meant Savage managed a good night’s sleep, if only because she was worn out. The incident with Jackman had slipped from her consciousness, but alone in her office on Wednesday morning, the reality hit home again. She fired up her computer and spent some time trying to discover all she could on the councillor. After half an hour she realised the guy was a power junkie. The way he spread himself around the various council committees and appeared to work tirelessly for countless organisations spoke volumes. Frequent appearances in the papers and on local TV suggested he was a media tart too. Jackman was an interfering busybody, a little dictator with an agenda. Savage remembered him from the encounter on the breakwater, the way his long, bony fingers had moved across the laptop. Those fingers had found their way across the city, getting into all sorts of organisations. And that made him very dangerous.

She stared out of the window at nothing and wondered where Jackman was and what he was doing. He was in control and all she could do was wait and worry. She shivered and found herself breathing all-too-fast, gasps coming one after another, until a trilling noise in the background snapped her vision back into focus. She turned and looked at the phone for a moment before reaching for the handset.

The call was from the custody officer at Charles Cross. He wanted to know about Stuart Chaffe, what was the score? Savage cursed, she’d forgotten all about Chaffe and now his twenty-four hours were up. The sergeant sounded pissed off. He’d received an earful from Chaffe’s solicitor, Amanda Bradley, talk of complaints and all sorts of trouble. They wouldn’t be wanting to hold him any longer, would they?

‘Release him,’ Savage heard herself say, wondering at the same time how she was going to square the mess with Hardin.

She needn’t have worried because Hardin had other things on his mind, and up in his office Savage, Davies and Garrett got to hear all about them.

‘I’ve just got news that bloody Foxy’s coming over on Saturday,’ Hardin said, peering at his screen. ‘He is concerned about Riley, wants to know what we are up to, feels if he is looking over our shoulders it will spur the troops on. He also thinks the presence of the Chief Constable will serve to reassure the good people of Plymouth that everything is being done to track down and catch Owers’ and Redmond’s killer. Between now and then I want you lot to reassure
me
that everything
is
being done to track down and catch Owers and Redmond’s killer. And find Riley.’

‘Sir?’ DCI Garrett leant forward and cleared his throat. ‘One piece of good news is the DNA evidence confirms the body discovered at Owers’ place is that of Simza Ellis.’

‘Huh?’ Hardin looked up from his screen as if he had missed the gist of Garrett’s sentence. The sneer beginning to creep across his face showed he hadn’t. ‘Good news? You call that
good
news?’

‘At least her family will have clo—’

‘Fucking hell!’ Hardin slammed his fist down on the desk. ‘Don’t ever tell me it is good news when we have to inform some poor woman her little girl has been raped and murdered by a sicko paedophile.’

‘We managed to get—’

‘Forget it! The CC’s not going to want to hear excuses, he wants
results
. Riley, Redmond, Owers. In that order.’ Hardin raised a hand and waved it at Garrett, silencing him. ‘Charlotte?’

‘We’ve got a dozen bodies to blitz the stuff on Riley,’ Savage said. ‘They’ve been at it since seven this morning and with respect, sir, I think we need to come clean with them on the
Sternway
connection to the murders. Otherwise they’re going to be working in the dark.’

‘Agreed. I’ll brief them myself. Soon as.’

‘At first I thought Riley’s disappearance was some sort of mix-up, but what happened in the taxi with Lynn Towner and DC Calter and DC Enders suggests otherwise. Since Riley was working on
Sternway
it’s logical we start with that angle. The two killings are also bound up with the drugs op. Motive on the Owers killing at first sight appeared to be revenge or a vigilante attack. Then we get Redmond. On its own we’d be drawing the conclusion that his informer status had been discovered and Fallon had killed him. But why would Fallon do that, when the result would be to draw attention to Tamar Yachts and possibly scupper the coming delivery? Ditto why would he have anything to do with Riley’s disappearance? We also have nothing to connect Redmond’s killing with that of Owers.’

‘Apart from the cocaine,’ Davies said.

‘Yes,’ Savage said. ‘Apart from the cocaine, the manner of the killings and those black and white markings, yes. Those facts tell us they’re connected, but we don’t know what the link is.’

‘So then,’ Hardin said. ‘Who, why and how?’

‘The “how” of Riley’s disappearance is down to Lynn Towner and Dave Dowdney. Towner’s still unconscious and at the moment there’s no sign of Dowdney at his home or at Moor to Shore Taxis. The “who” and “why” remains—’

‘Whoever did this – the killings, Riley – they’re in the business.’ Davies leant back in his chair, balled his right hand and slammed the fist into his left palm. ‘Bam! Bam! Bam! World War Three. Job done.’

‘Phil, will you please stop talking in bloody riddles,’ Hardin said. ‘What do you mean?’

‘They were highly professional in the planning and carrying out of the attacks and the message was explicit. Vice, I’d say. Some kind of move.’

‘You mean the Bristol firm? The one we had intel on before Christmas?’

‘Quite possible. Somebody muscling in on Fallon’s little empire at any rate. Trying to scare him off. It could explain why they have taken Riley too.’

‘Sounds a bit OTT to me. Why not just go direct to Fallon?’

‘Eastern Europeans, the lot in Bristol, and they don’t work like that. I remember hearing from a friend on the Met about this Russian guy who ran a couple of dozen Natashas. He started losing girls at the rate of one or two a week. They just disappeared. He didn’t cotton on for ages, not until his girlfriend goes missing too. By then it was too late for him to get out. They found his body down in the river at Gravesend. He’d been in the water for best part of a month, but you could still tell it wasn’t natural causes.’

‘For God’s sake, Phil, can you leave your hard-boiled stories on the bedside table where they belong?’ Hardin shook his head. ‘Quite frankly this is pathetic. The lot of you. We need the connection between Owers and Fallon and we need to understand Riley’s place in all of this. Get the info, get the intel and get back to me. Preferably before the Chief Constable arrives. Or else we’re all buggered.’

‘Sir? One more thing,’ Savage said. ‘Marty Kemp? On Saturday you said he was planning to come down. Well we could really do with his input on this. When is he expected?’

‘No idea. He said he’d be here on Monday or Tuesday, but as of yet I’ve not heard from him.’

‘The facilitator at Exeter?’

‘Bloody ditto. She’s tried to make contact but nothing. Kemp’s force can’t raise him either.’

‘But …’ Savage looked at the others. Davies wore a grimace, Garrett just shook his head. She lowered her voice to a whisper. ‘Shit.’

‘Couldn’t have put it better myself,’ Hardin said.

His words wrapped up the meeting and the three of them left him staring at his screen and clicking with his mouse. Savage wondered if he was enjoying a relaxing game of Minesweeper.

Hardin was good as his word and gave a briefing in the Major Crimes suite mid-morning. After he’d left, morale seemed, if anything, a little lower. Savage figured that people didn’t like being kept in the dark, even if the subterfuge was for good reason. She began to work the room, talking to individual officers about
Sternway
and trying to smooth the waters, but getting more exasperated by the minute. She’d just moved across to Enders and Denton when Calter appeared. She walked in to a big cheer, a round of applause and a number of officers shouting out ‘every little helps’.

‘Huh?’ Enders said.

‘The Tesco lorry, you numbskull,’ Denton said. ‘The company are considering moving into the criminal justice arena, didn’t you know? You are going to have to spend two years minimum on the tills before you can move into CID.’

‘They’re not, are … you’re winding me up, right?’

‘People,’ Savage said interrupting. ‘Forget the jokes. We need to concentrate on Riley.’

‘Sorry, ma’am,’ Denton said. ‘But we need to lighten up sometimes. We’d go mad otherwise.’

‘I’m pretty close to going mad now, Carl. At every other moment you and Patrick are mucking around instead of focusing on the task in hand. Riley’s missing, there’s a little girl murdered by some sick paedophile and a guy knifed to death in a stairwell. If there’s a joke in there then I’d sure like to know about it.’

Enders opened his mouth and almost looked as if he was about to deliver a witty put-down. Instead he closed it again and hunkered over his keyboard. Denton appeared shell-shocked and Savage felt bad for a moment, the same as if she’d shouted at her children. Her outburst had scratched the veneer of cheerfulness in the room and revealed despondency beneath. Officers shuffled to their desks and there were a few murmurs of discontent. You stupid idiot, she thought. Hardin had told her she didn’t have a monopoly on emotion and he was right. Everyone had their own way of dealing with the situation and the jokes were just that.

‘Listen up,’ Savage said, trying to sound contrite. ‘Feelings are running high. The Chief Constable is worried about the effects on morale if we can’t find out what has happened to Riley quickly. I guess he’s probably right. For once.’

There was a trickle of laughter, a slight thaw of the frostiness. Savage continued.

‘Hardin is taking overall control of the investigation into Riley’s disappearance on the direct instructions from the Chief. The DSupt wants to make sure everything is handled correctly. However, day-to-day, hour-by-hour, you’re stuck with me breathing down your necks and cracking the whip.’

‘Where are we at then?’ Calter asked.

Savage brought Calter up to speed and outlined the
Sternway
connection and the theory that somebody was out to muscle in on Fallon’s operation. Then Denton told her what she had missed regarding the search for Riley. It didn’t amount to much.

‘We’ve got some ANPR data which shows Lynn Towner’s taxi on the A38 near Ivybridge,’ Denton said. ‘Cameras farther on towards Exeter registered nothing. It isn’t conclusive proof she didn’t go to Exeter, because the cameras can miss vehicles for various reasons, but it’s another nail in her coffin. Sorry, you know what I mean.’

Denton began to recount Towner’s history. She had three kids – two sons and a daughter – from a marriage which had ended soon after the third child had been born. The children were grown now, themselves married and with children.

‘Mum’s a bit of embarrassment, apparently,’ Denton said. ‘Several prosecutions for soliciting and as we know she’s not exactly the world’s best driver. Still, the children were pretty defensive when questioned, not exactly helpful from what I hear. But then again why Lynn Towner would be involved in anything to do with kidnapping DS Riley is a mystery.’

‘Vice?’ Calter said. ‘Some pimp, maybe?’

Denton shook his head. Towner was a streetwalker, he explained. Latterly she’d used the taxi. A sort of mobile escort business. As far as the inquiry teams could make out she had no connections to organised gangs, pimps or dealers. The only victim in the crimes she committed was herself.

‘OK,’ Savage said. ‘This afternoon Patrick and I are going to visit the old guy who saw Towner’s taxi parked on the lane. Jane, sorry, HR have informed me you are on “light duties” for today at least, so you’ll stay here and pull together some things to do with Riley, phone records and such. I’ll clear it with the DSupt that you can have access to Darius’ files in case there is something there.’

Calter looked crestfallen and as Savage left the room she came over for a word.

‘Cheer up, Jane, it could be worse,’ Savage said, winking at Calter. ‘I might have asked Carl to help you.’

Nr Ashburton, South Hams. Wednesday 23rd January. 11.27 a.m.

Enders wittered on about Denton’s crush on Calter as he drove Savage east along the dual carriageway towards Ashburton.

‘The poor lad,’ he said as they turned off the main road into a narrow lane and parked up next to an isolated little bungalow with a small lawn and flowerbeds already full of daffodils. ‘He’ll be quivering stuck next to her back at the station. He’s putty in her hands. Like watching a spider with a fly or a cat with a mouse. Cruel.’

‘What about a female praying mantis?’ Savage said, suppressing a laugh as they got out of the car.

‘Oh, he’d love that.’

‘Patrick?’ Savage pointed up the concrete ribbon leading through the pretty little garden to the front door.

A man in what could only be described as a smoking jacket, stood on the porch, a pipe in his mouth and a copy of the
Racing Post
in one hand.

‘Police or double glazing?’ he said, laughing and waving the newspaper and inviting them in, eyes following Savage as she walked up the path. ‘Police is my hunch. I’ve never seen such a good-looking double glazing saleswoman.’

‘Mr Jeffreys?’ Savage said. ‘DI Charlotte Savage and DC Patrick Enders. It’s about the incident you reported the other day.’

‘Uh-huh.’ Jeffreys nodded. ‘Is this what you term victim support? Because I’d have preferred a response on the day rather than some sort of lefty hand patting now.’

‘Not victim support, Mr Jeffreys. Just a few questions.’

‘Well, if it helps catch the bastard I’m only too keen to help.’ Jeffreys let them move past and into the house.

The hallway had a clear plastic runner down over the white carpet and in the living room the sofa and armchairs were adorned with little lacy mats on the backs and armrests. A table and bureau in a dark brown veneer were from an age when such styling would have been considered fashionable.