Blood Falls (40 page)

‘Uh, a minor altercation I had with a couple of the security guys.’ Joe grinned. ‘I’m sure I can talk my way out of it.’

Nine forty-five. The storm was pushing closer, the skies darkening. A squally wind rattled the tiles above the porch as Joe prepared to leave.

Diana hovered anxiously. ‘Are you sure you don’t want a lift?’

‘It’s not raining yet. If I hurry I’ll be there before it starts.’

‘I’m not sure you should be going at all.’

‘I have to face them at some point.’

‘Do you?’

He said nothing. They stared at each other for a moment, then embraced. Holding him tightly, Diana said, ‘Please be careful, Joe.’

When they separated, Joe had a sense of how much had been left unsaid. He knew Diana would be thinking of Roy, and the mistakes he’d made in trying to confront Leon. Afraid that Joe was preparing to make the very same mistakes.

Joe couldn’t put her mind at ease, because he feared she might well be right.

As he left the house, a Range Rover pulled up and backed onto the driveway, its brake lights a vivid red in the dull gloom of the day. The driver opened his window and beckoned to Joe. It was the man he’d met out on the veranda on his first day. Bruce.

‘Clive said you were going in for ten, and I was down this way. Hop in.’

Joe glanced up at the sky. Any second now it was going to tip it down. Silly to refuse.

Climbing into the passenger seat, he caught Bruce grinning at his hesitation.

‘Reece and Todd are idiots. You gave ’em a right pasting, according to Phil. Done a bit of fighting in your time, have you?’

‘A bit.’ Not a route he wanted to go down, so Joe said, ‘You?’

‘Bloody loved a scrap, I did. Got in a lot of trouble over it. Luckily I ran into Leon, and he gave me a second chance.’

‘You like working for him?’

‘Oh yeah. Leon’s a top man.’ Bruce gave Joe a conspiratorial glance. ‘Clive’s a weirdo, but easy enough to deal with. You’ll probably get a slap on the wrist for this. Just keep your head down in future and you’ll be okay.’

Joe nodded. ‘Thanks for the advice.’

A loud crash of thunder commanded their attention as they got to the house. Sheet lightning flashed above the trees to the west.

‘Raining in Padstow, I bet,’ Bruce said. ‘Be us next.’

They entered the house. Bruce told him that Fenton would see him in the office. As he peeled away to the comms room, Joe called, ‘Is Venning still here?’

‘Nah, finished at nine. He’s on nights.’

That was a shame, Joe thought. He knocked on the office door, waited for a summons, and walked in. Fenton was behind the desk. With a self-important, headmasterly air, he laced his chubby fingers together and announced: ‘Leon has requested that I deal with this on his behalf.’

‘Where is he?’

The big man bristled at Joe’s impertinence. ‘He’s away.’

‘Anywhere nice?’

Fenton ignored the question. He cleared his throat. ‘You’ll be pleased to hear that Reece has decided he won’t be pressing charges for assault. Neither will Todd.’

Joe shrugged. ‘They came looking for trouble. I responded.’

‘Yes, well, there are conflicting opinions. Suffice to say we won’t tolerate any repetition of this behaviour. That’s clearly understood, I hope?’

‘Perfectly.’

There was an awkward silence. Fenton seemed unnerved by Joe’s composure. At last he said, ‘Good. We’ll regard the matter as settled. Now, I haven’t looked at the schedule yet, but I believe there’s work available for you today.’

The phone rang. Fenton answered, then told the caller to hold on.

He addressed Joe: ‘Glenn’s due back shortly. Help yourself to a coffee and either he or I will sort something for you.’

As Joe stood up, there was a faint high-pitched noise from above them. Joe frowned, and Fenton muttered, ‘It’s just the wind.’

Joe left the room, shutting the door behind him. He was reflecting that he’d got off lightly – almost too lightly – when he heard it again: a long, piercing screech.

Sometimes the wind could make a sound like this, he thought, when it was funnelled through a narrow space at high speed. But that wasn’t the case here.

What he’d heard was a woman screaming.

Seventy-Two

JOE RACED UP
the stairs. At the top there was a wide landing, with passageways leading left and right. Half a dozen doors within sight, all of them shut.

He paused, the first doubts creeping in. Less than a minute since Fenton’s warning and already he was courting trouble.

The next sound was a whimper, like that of a beaten animal. It came from the second room to the right. Joe crept forward, cautious now. He grasped the door handle, twisted, felt no resistance.

He stood to one side as he opened the door, to avoid presenting an easy target. The widening arc revealed a pale green carpet and an antique dressing table with a large mirror above it. Reflected in the mirror was a double bed with an ornate brass frame. A woman lay face up on the bed, tied to the four corners by leather cords. A cloth gag had been stuffed into her mouth and secured with tape, but she’d managed to dislodge it enough to make a noise.

Her eyes widened as she saw the door opening. She was completely naked, a young woman with a thin frame and large breasts that barely splayed towards her armpits. She had a small tattoo of a bird on her inner thigh and another, more elaborate butterfly design on her left breast.

Joe didn’t sense any other presence, but he went in fast, ready to fend off an attack. The room was empty. The only other furniture was
a chest of drawers with peeling lacquer. There was a sink in one corner, but no en-suite. No hiding places.

Shutting the door, Joe raised a finger to his lips, urging silence. ‘It’s all right. I’m going to untie you.’

The woman seemed to trust him, but there was still panic in her eyes. He pulled the tape away from her mouth. She spat the gag out, gasping for breath.

‘Quick! Before Leon gets back.’

‘Leon’s here?’

She nodded. ‘About ten minutes ago.’

Joe started on the cords that bound her feet. The knots were thick and unwieldy. ‘How long have you been held prisoner?’

‘Since last night. Please hurry,’ she said.

Finally he untangled the knot and her left foot was free. He moved to the next corner and felt the woman tense. The door was opening.

Joe turned, helpless, as Leon Race entered the room. He didn’t seem remotely surprised to see Joe. If anything, he looked delighted.

And he was holding a gun.

It was a Glock 9mm. Of course, it could be a fake. Lots of criminals used imitation firearms because they were cheaper and easier to obtain, and just as effective as a threat.

The question was, did Joe want to take the chance?

Leon gestured for him to move round to the far side of the bed. The woman was slumped in defeat, glaring crossly at Joe.

‘Like playing the hero, don’t you?’ Leon said. ‘I bet you couldn’t believe your luck.
Joe Carter to the rescue!
The brave undercover cop saves another victim.’

‘I’m not an undercover cop.’

‘I don’t care what you are. Other than a fucking nuisance.’ Leon approached the bed, urging Joe back against the far wall. Taking a flick knife from his pocket, he popped the blade and cut away the remaining cords.

‘What are you going to do with her?’ Joe said.

‘Shut up,’ Leon said. When the last of the bonds had been cut, he folded the knife and reached out towards the woman. Instead of shrinking away, she took his hand and let him help her up. Joe got ready to throw himself at Leon if he took aim at her.

But Leon merely stood and watched as the woman reached under the bed, retrieved a silk robe and put it on. There was a loud crash of thunder, almost directly overhead. The woman shivered.

‘All done?’ she asked Leon.

‘Yeah. You were brilliant, Claudia. I’ll get somebody to drive you home.’

‘Thanks, hon.’ She gave Leon a peck on the cheek and hurried out of the room without sparing Joe another glance.

Leon was still smiling. ‘Now the real fun begins,’ he said.

Joe was utterly bewildered, and saw no point in hiding it. Leon was twitchier than usual, his face pale and drawn. A wild look in his bloodshot eyes. Not a well man, but this was his grand set piece and he clearly intended to enjoy it.

‘You thought you had me red-handed, didn’t you? These missing women. You think I’m raping and murdering them?’

Joe met his gaze and said, ‘Yes. I think you are.’

Leon snorted. ‘So did Roy Bamber. Silly bastard didn’t have a shred of proof, but he wouldn’t stop digging away.’

‘I know. That’s why you arranged for Glenn to have an affair with Diana.’

Grudging admiration from Leon. ‘He didn’t take much persuading. Glenn would shag a Hoover if there was nothing better on offer.’

‘What happened when Roy found out?’

‘He went ballistic, but it was too late. She was in love with Glenn by then.’ Leon paused, rubbing sleep from his eyes. ‘You know Roy tried to fit me up? Came here one day, said he wanted to discuss a building project. He’d smuggled in one of those tiny voice recorders.
Took me all of ten seconds to guess what he was doing. I should have rammed the fucking thing up his arse.’

Joe didn’t respond. He knew Leon was trying to goad him.

‘Anyway, I called Glenn in and asked him outright: do you wanna go on screwing Roy’s missus? Well, Glenn said she wasn’t bad for an oldie, so I gave him permission, and I made Roy give his permission, too.’ Leon laughed at the memory. ‘Didn’t surprise me one bit when he dropped dead. Sent him to an early grave, trying to bring me down. That’s a lesson you could have learned.’ He jabbed a finger at Joe. ‘Where did you go yesterday?’

‘Glastonbury. Then the van broke down.’

‘No, it didn’t. I checked. Alise is still alive, isn’t she?

Rather than answer directly, Joe said, ‘I know what you did to her.’

Leon was unfazed. ‘What happened to her has nothing to do with this.’ He gestured at the rumpled bed covers. ‘Alise had a vendetta against me. Getting rid of her was self-defence, pure and simple.’

‘That’s not how I see it.’

‘Huh. Once a cop, always a cop. What about Sunday? A trip to Dorset, was it?’

Joe saw no reason to lie. ‘I was following up on Kamila’s disappearance. Trying to find the evidence that would put you away.’

‘It won’t happen,’ Leon gloated. ‘Round here, I’m invincible. I’m fucking fireproof. I own this town, and you made a big mistake, crossing me.’ As his voice rose in pitch and volume, he sounded like a madman; not far short of foaming at the mouth. Joe decided he had nothing to lose in making a run for it: even if the gun was real, Leon might not shoot straight.

Then Reece and Todd trooped in, putting an end to that idea. Todd had a dressing on his nose. Both men looked as though they would gladly tear Joe apart with their bare hands.

Bruce came in behind them, carrying a bottle of cheap vodka. Leon made sure Joe had seen it, then said, ‘It worked okay with Alise. It’s gonna work even better with you.’

Seventy-Three

IT WAS FUNNY
, Leon later reflected, how because of one thing, another thing happened.

He descended the stairs slowly, because he was exhausted and unsteady on his feet. They hadn’t got back from Ascot until nearly one in the morning, and then Leon had lain awake for hours, waiting for his fury to subside.

Glenn had just come in, so the door to the office was open. Because Leon took the stairs so slowly, he didn’t make any noise. And because they didn’t hear him coming, Fenton and Glenn went on talking as if Leon wasn’t there. Glenn must have asked for an update, and Fenton made a disgusted noise.

‘It’s insane, tossing Joe into the bloody river Allwyn. As he floats away on the tide, so does our chance of a spectacular payday.’

Glenn’s comment was drowned out by a clap of thunder. When it echoed away to silence, Fenton was saying: ‘How can anyone look such a gift horse in the mouth?’

‘I don’t know. But Leon didn’t exactly get a fair hearing. I wouldn’t want to go crawling back to Morton after that …’

‘There are ways and means, Glenn. The trouble is, he’s become entrenched. Won’t listen to a word I say. I’ve asked Derek to come over, and you should work on him, too. He’s always had a soft spot for you.’

‘Dunno about that any more,’ Glenn muttered.

‘The past day or two, it’s like he’s taken leave of his senses. He won’t listen to reason.’ Fenton’s tone became even more confidential. ‘In fact, I’ve started to wonder if it isn’t time to move on. I’ve built up quite a contingency fund. I assume you’ve done the same?’

Glenn made a non-committal sound. ‘Bit early to be jumping ship, isn’t it?’

‘Is it? I don’t know. With a million pounds at stake, I’m sorely tempted to call Danny Morton myself.’ Glenn must have looked disapproving, for Fenton sounded defensive when he spoke again. ‘Wouldn’t you say it’s a risk worth taking?’

‘What risk is that?’ Leon shoved the door open, letting it crash against the wall.

Fenton lurched out of his chair, one hand slapping against his chest as if he might need to restart his heart. Glenn barely moved: just a little colour in his cheeks as he nodded a greeting, before deftly changing the subject.

‘You got Joe here all right?’

‘Bruce played it perfectly. So did Claudia.’ Leon winked at Fenton. ‘You know she still looks as fit as she did at eighteen?’

‘Wonderful,’ said Fenton drily. He took a deep breath. ‘Leon, ah, Glenn and I were just discussing whether it isn’t worth one final approach to Danny Morton …’

‘Not gonna happen, Clive. And if you try going behind my back, it’ll be the last thing you ever do. Understand me?’

Fenton gulped like a bullfrog, then silently rose, allowing Leon to take his place behind the desk.

‘Have you got a key for Diana’s?’ he asked Glenn.

‘Not any more. She took it back on Sunday.’

Leon fished in his pocket, producing a key and an envelope. ‘There’s a letter in here, written by Joe. His are the only fingerprints on it. I want you to leave it for Diana to find, and get Joe’s stuff while you’re there.’