Settled Blood (21 page)

‘Ms Fielding—’

‘The name is Fiona. Do you have one also, or just a rank?’

‘Madam, may I remind you, you’re here to help—’

‘That sounded like a Mo to me, or possibly a Grace.’

The soul singer again.

A grin played around Fielding’s mouth as she locked eyes with the DCI. She was flirting openly. Daniels needed another proposition from a member of the public like a hole in the head. If
she had a type, Fielding definitely wasn’t it.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘Can we just get on?’

‘There you go again, apologizing.’

‘It wasn’t an apology.’ Daniels glared at her. ‘Jess Finch may be in danger.’

Fielding instantly backed off, her turn to apologize for overstepping the mark. Making no more of it, Daniels moved on, asking her about the missing girl, making her aware of the gravity of the
situation without giving too much away. Pulling a pen from her pocket, she opened the table drawer and grabbed a statement pad, relieved that her interview was finally getting underway.

‘I’m particularly interested in girlfriends, boyfriends, uni mates . . . I’m guessing she didn’t tell you she was about to run away from her father because they
don’t get along?’

Fielding said no. She went on to confirm what Daniels had suspected all along. In the course of painting Jessica’s portrait they had spent a considerable amount of time together. Daniels
quickly formed the impression that the globe-trotting artist knew the Finch family as well as anyone she’d interviewed so far. As Fielding began to open up, a serious, caring, human being
emerged, one who was very fond of Jess and deeply troubled by what she’d been told.

In a different social setting, Daniels knew they’d get along.

‘Did Jessica have any special friends? Anyone she talked about a lot?’

‘She had lots of acquaintances, but few close friends from what I could gather. She was besotted with Robert Lester though, in spite of her father’s disapproval.’ A flash of
anger lit up Fielding’s eyes. ‘Adam can be a prize arsehole sometimes. When he found out about the relationship he stopped Jess from seeing the lad. If you ask me, the man needs to drag
himself out of the dark ages. He even tried to pay Robert off! Can you believe that?’

Daniels looked up from her note-taking, reminded of her conversation with Robert Lester, his assertion that Finch was a racist. If he’d been offered money to stay away from Jess, was it
enough of a trigger to tip him over the edge? ‘What form did that take?’ she asked. ‘I mean, did he meet with the lad, give him a cheque, or what?’

Fielding shook her head. ‘Adam’s far too clever for that. He’d never involve himself directly in such a transaction. He gave the money to Jessica, in cash I believe. She
promised to end the relationship, but, instead of dumping Robert, gave the lot to charity and kept on seeing him behind Adam’s back. That about sums her up really. She’s fiercely
independent. I’m not sure what more I can tell you.’

‘Did Adam know they were still seeing one another?’

‘I honestly don’t know.’

‘Was her relationship with Robert the only bone of contention between them?’

Fielding shrugged, hesitated.

There was something else. Daniels could sense it. ‘If you know something—’

‘I don’t
know
anything, not for sure.’ Fielding took a long, deep breath. ‘If I repeat something Jess told me it’s just hearsay, isn’t it?’

‘Let me be the judge of that.’

‘You know that her mother died in a car crash many years ago?’

Daniels gave a little nod.

‘Well, Jess is convinced Adam was responsible. She claims that he was pissed at the wheel, but . . . well, to put it bluntly, the police did nothing about it. She swears they covered it
up.’

‘That’s quite an allegation.’ Though she didn’t like the way the conversation was going, Daniels’ interest grew. ‘What made her think that?’

‘Please bear in mind she was very young at the time.’

Daniels encouraged her to go on.

‘To this day she remembers the strong smell of alcohol on Adam’s breath when he told her that Beth, her mother, was never coming home. I was convinced she was mistaken at first.
Receiving such bloody awful news at such a young age is bound to have been traumatic. I thought perhaps she’d got her memories mixed up and, I don’t know, maybe they became fixed as
fact in her mind as she grew up. I think that’s possible, don’t you?’

‘And now you’ve changed your mind?’

Fielding nodded. ‘The more she talked about it, the more convinced I became that she was actually reliving a moment she’d played over and over in her head a million times
before.’

‘People drink when they’re bereaved, don’t they? That doesn’t mean—’

‘I totally agree. But Jess said Adam was distraught, couldn’t stop crying for days.’

‘As I said, it’s what you’d expect from someone recently widowed.’

‘That’s also true. But Jessica swears she’d never seen him like that before or since. You know the man: stiff upper lip and all that crap. Does he strike you as a person
who’d wear his heart on his sleeve? It really isn’t his style. Anyway, that’s all I know.’ Fielding looked at her watch. ‘Will you have dinner with me
tonight?’

Daniels just looked at her.

‘Detectives do eat, don’t they?’

Detectives do eat, don’t they?

Daniels felt her stomach lurch. Jo had used those very words a long time ago when Daniels declined a dinner invitation due to work commitments. On that occasion, she changed her mind and never
looked back. Until it all went pear-shaped. Maybe now was the time to move on. For a moment, she envied Fielding. She was a professional in her own right, answerable to no one, confident and
successful too – a woman without any baggage by the looks. She enjoyed life. And why not? If her website was anything to go by, she had a great gift, one she exploited to the full. Her
talents were in great demand across the globe. It was refreshing to meet someone so obviously free to express herself without fear of being labelled, pilloried, or prevented from reaching the top
through prejudice and bigotry.

Daniels felt like a fraud. She’d taken the path of least resistance, hidden her sexuality in order to further her ambition in her chosen career. The more she thought about it, the more she
realized that Fielding was about as far away from her as it was possible to be. And that intrigued her.

‘You’re with someone.’ Fielding looked disappointed. ‘Of course you are, why wouldn’t you be? That’s a real shame, Kate Daniels.’

A smile crept over Daniels’ face.
Bloody woman already knew her name.

Fielding said, ‘You didn’t mind me asking?’

Daniels shook her head. She hadn’t felt romantically inclined towards anyone in ages and was about to say something that sounded ridiculous, even in her own head, when a gentle tap on the
door stopped her.

The door opened and Jo walked in.

‘Oh, sorry, I didn’t realize—’

Jo’s voice caught in her throat. It was obvious she’d walked in on something sensitive. A deafening silence descended in the room. For a beat she just stood there, eventually telling
Daniels she’d catch up with her later. It was a tricky moment. Fielding’s piercing blue eyes shifted from Jo to Daniels and back again.

‘You are one lucky lady,’ she said.

E
nding the interview, Daniels returned to the MIR hoping to find Jo and explain, but she was nowhere in sight. On the murder wall, a new event had been flagged up for her
attention:
Mystery couple found. DC Maxwell on way with further info – ETA 11.30.
Some good news for once. Daniels looked at her watch. Maxwell would be arriving very soon. She pulled
out her mobile phone, dialled Jo’s number and waited.

Gormley mimicked Bugs Bunny as he arrived by her side. ‘What’s up, Doc?’

The phone continued to ring out in Daniels’ ear. ‘Looking for Jo, you seen her?’

‘She was here earlier. Looking for you, as it happens.’

‘Yeah, I know, but that’s not a lot of help, is it?’

Carmichael raised her head from a nearby desk. ‘I saw her a minute ago, heading out en route to HMP Acklington, I think she said. I got the impression she’d been called
in.’

Their attention shifted as a civilian entered the MIR wearing overalls and a worn leather tool belt round his waist. He was whistling a happy tune, seemingly without a care in the world as he
made off across the room. Daniels felt a pang of regret as she watched him unscrew Bright’s nameplate, throw it in the bin and replace it with one bearing Naylor’s name and rank.

The end of an era . . . but the beginning of a new one.

Gormley had read her mind. ‘The king is dead, long live the king,’ he said.

The ringing tone stopped. Jo’s phone switched to voice-mail. Daniels ended the call without leaving a message. But through the window she could see Jo’s car where she’d parked
it earlier.

She turned her attention back to Carmichael. ‘You OK for tonight, Lisa?’

Carmichael nodded in the direction of Naylor’s office. ‘I’ve had my pep talk, including the third degree about what will happen to me if I screw up. I know what to do. To be
honest, I can’t wait to be a student again.’

‘You might end up a hooker,’ Gormley reminded her. ‘Can you handle that?’

Carmichael feigned an edgy look. ‘I’ll give it a go, Sarge.’

Gormley said something nice about not taking unnecessary risks. Daniels saw his smile dissolve as Carmichael laughed off his concerns. He wasn’t being melodramatic. Like many police
officers, he was hard on the outside, soft on the inside, fiercely protective of his colleagues who, from the moment they donned a uniform and signed on the dotted line, became part of a second
family almost. That was particularly true of his relationship with Carmichael, who had actually been a student not so very long ago. As her direct supervisor, it was his job to look out for her,
teach her the ropes, encourage her ambition and give her room to grow. But that also meant he cared about her safety and the danger she’d undoubtedly face by going undercover.

He covered his concern by pulling her leg. ‘Well, if you’re working tonight, you knock off early, you hear me? Get your glad rags organized, then get some kip before you go out on
the game.’

‘He’s right, Lisa,’ Daniels said. ‘But before you go, have a dig around in that computer of yours and see if you can pull an old accident report on Beth Finch.’

‘Jessica’s mum? Don’t suppose you’ve got an FWIN?’

Daniels shook her head ruefully. A Force-Wide Incident Number was the case identifier that would allow Carmichael to call up the relevant file from the database in a matter of seconds.
‘No, Lisa – but that’s never stopped you before. I can’t even tell you where it happened, only that it happened about seventeen years ago. Just do what you can, OK? There
might be archived newspaper reports, given that it was a fatal crash. If you find anything, leave it on my desk.’

Gormley raised an inquisitive eyebrow. ‘Problem?’

‘Dunno yet,’ Daniels said, walking away.

Feeling a sudden urge to find Jo before she left the building, Daniels quickly left the MIR and went in search of her. Racing down the corridor, she took the stairs to the floor below and headed
for the rear exit. Turning the corner, she spotted Jo signing herself out on the professional visitors’ log by the back door. It was a new fad, a health and safety initiative introduced by
some nameless, faceless civilian at headquarters who hadn’t grasped the concept that police officers had to get a shift on when they were called out. They didn’t have time to put their
clothes on properly, let alone stand in line to write their names down before leaving the station to attend mayhem on the streets.

Jo pocketed her pen, picked her briefcase up off the floor and slung a Burberry raincoat over her arm, glancing over her shoulder as she heard footsteps approaching.

‘Hi!’ she said. ‘You want me?’

Daniels grinned.
Of course she wanted her.
‘Got time for a chat?’

‘Unfortunately not, sorry.’

‘I thought you wanted to speak to me.’

‘I did, but it’ll keep.’ Jo glanced sideways. ‘Who’s your new friend?’

Daniels blushed. ‘She isn’t a friend, she’s a witness.’

‘Really?’ Jo started walking. ‘I’m not blind, Kate. Something was going on in there. But, hey, it’s none of
my
business!’

‘Damn right,’ Daniels said, regretting her words immediately. Why in hell’s name did they always end up arguing? They stopped walking as a group of uniformed officers entered
the station via the back door. Stepping aside, they faced each other in stony silence from either side of the corridor as the group walked by, a chorus of
Morning ma’am
ringing out as
they passed. Daniels waited until the group were out of earshot and then pointed to the exit. ‘I’ll walk you to your car. Nice set of wheels, by the way. Unusual choice for you,
isn’t it? Thought you hated gas guzzlers.’

‘Times and circumstances change.’ Jo took her keys from her pocket. ‘You’re not the only one with a new friend. I also have someone new in my life, someone energetic,
outdoorsy; someone with no hang-ups, no rules or bloody regulations to consider; someone I can have fun with, like we used to, remember?’

A lump forming in Daniels’ throat. ‘Kirsten?’

‘NO!’ Jo reacted as if the suggestion was somehow ridiculous. ‘
Definitely
not Kirsten. You are crazy sometimes, Kate. You really are.’

‘Then who? If I’m allowed to ask.’

‘C’mon, I’ll introduce you. I’d like it if you were mates.’

Whoever it was, Daniels certainly didn’t want to meet her. She hated her guts already and didn’t want to be mates. She followed Jo across the car park towards something she did like:
the profiler’s new Land Rover, the biggest, newest and shiniest vehicle there.

It looked great with the sun glinting off its metallic paintwork.

It reminded Daniels of the search team lined up in their Land Rover Defenders in the pouring rain. There was still no word from Weldon, or the geologist come to think of it, but the improving
weather was good news. She prayed that it would hold. A horn peeped, interrupting her thoughts, as a jam sandwich swept by. The Traffic car was going too fast for her to identify who was at the
wheel, but she waved back anyway. And when she turned back in the direction of the Land Rover, Jo was at the rear of the four-by-four with the tailgate open.