A Velvet Scream (8 page)

‘Oh?'

‘And don't forget something else.'

‘What?'

He brushed her lips with his own and she felt the heat in them. ‘That I love you,' he said simply. Then he drew back. ‘Anyway, Colclough won't let anything happen to his favourite cop. He'll protect you.'

She shook her head. ‘Not now I've let him down, Matt. He takes it personally.' She smiled sadly. ‘I'm his fallen angel.'

‘You'll soon fly back into his good books,' he said. ‘Ring me when you can.'

Her stomach was too churned up for breakfast so she poured herself a lemon, honey and ginger smoothie then left, shouting up the stairs to Matthew, who was now under the shower.

The drive in from Waterfall to Leek was achingly familiar. Every twist and turn in the road, every incline, every downhill. She might be driving her car today but she'd ridden this way so many times on her bike that she could almost feel the pull on her legs as she finally arrived at the station and turned into her parking slot.

She got a few looks of sympathy as she walked into the station but some officers looked at her with a sort of righteous indignation. DS Mike Korpanski was a popular member of the Leek police force and his injury had upset them all. The finger had been well and truly pointed at his superior, Detective Inspector Joanna Piercy, who had risked his life with her cavalier decision.

She sat outside Colclough's door, her stomach in knots, feeling like a fourteen-year-old waiting outside the headmistress's office to be expelled for smoking or a patient waiting to go under the knife, or a criminal awaiting the hangman's noose or the judge's verdict or  . . . Her imagination finally ran out of ideas.

The door opened and she was ushered in.

Police complaints were a serious business. Justice and fairness had to be done. More importantly it had to be
seen to be done
. Besides Colclough there were three other senior officers, two men and one woman, all in uniform and all of whom stared at her, straight-lipped. The thinnest of them introduced himself. ‘I am the Chief Constable of Staffordshire, Jonathan Taylor,' he said. ‘These are Detective Chief Inspectors Stuart Wrekin and Teresa Finney. Chief Superintendent Arthur Colclough you already know, I believe.'

Joanna couldn't even look at Colclough. She couldn't face the look of disappointment she would have seen there. Instead she focused on the chief constable, who met her eyes fearlessly.

‘First of all, Inspector Piercy, you accept that a senior officer is responsible for the safety of his or her junior officers?'

‘Yes, sir.'

‘Do you also accept that you took an unacceptable risk in staking out the farm without backup?'

‘As it turned out, sir.'

Taylor's eyebrows lifted at this weak attempt at self-defence. To him it would be interpreted as impertinence.

‘There are rules designed to protect our officers from harm. Particularly where firearms are concerned.'

‘I didn't know there was a firearm involved, sir.'

‘As I understand it the murder you were investigating was committed with a shotgun.'

‘Yes, sir.'

‘So you might have guessed that a gun
would
be involved.'

It's so easy to be wise after the event. ‘Yes, sir.'

‘Yet you decided to stake the place out, taking with you one sergeant and letting no one know of your intention.'

Put like that it sounded black. She caught the four officers exchanging glances and sat stone still, waiting for the axe to fall.

‘Detective Sergeant Korpanski could have died in this rash attempt.'

Joanna lowered her eyes, remembering the blast of the gun and Mike's instinctive dive in front of her. This was what Fran Korpanski would never forgive, rather than the risk to her husband's life. Joanna could still feel his swift movement, the jerk when he was hit, then the weight of his body and the warm, stickiness of his blood. She closed her eyes and simply nodded, still crushed by her memories.

Taylor continued. ‘You and DS Korpanski have a close and loyal working relationship, it has been noted.'

Again she simply nodded.

Stuart Wrekin spoke. ‘There are reasons for the rigid rules we have to abide by, Inspector Piercy. Do you accept that?'

‘I do, sir.'

‘You regret your actions?' Teresa Finney this time.

Joanna met her eyes. ‘I do, ma'am,' she said. ‘Bitterly.'

All four pairs of eyes turned on her and judged her.

There was silence in the room. Then the chief constable leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers. ‘Leave us for a moment, Piercy,' he growled and Joanna knew they were about to decide her future. She wanted to beg that they keep her on. Demote her if necessary but not cut off the lifeblood which was her work.

Please?

She sat outside.

Five minutes passed.

Then the door was opened and Colclough motioned her to enter. She tried to read his expression but he avoided looking at her. It didn't look good.

She followed him back into the room where he took his seat behind the long table on the end of the line.

The chief constable cleared his throat and spent a minute or two studying her.

‘Piercy,' he said softly. ‘You've been lucky this time.'

‘Sir?'

He drew in a deep breath. ‘You have a very good work record. Many of your colleagues have spoken up for you. Not least Detective Sergeant Korpanski.' A hint of softening of his lips before he continued. ‘Unlike his wife.'

‘Yes, sir.'

‘This time we have decided to be lenient with you.'

‘Yes, sir.'

Colclough ventured the tiniest of smiles, which she could not return.

Taylor continued. ‘You understand that this will remain on your record for five years?'

‘Yes, sir.'

‘And that if there is a further problem you will be suspended or asked to leave the force?'

‘Yes, sir.'

‘We will not tolerate a repeat of this deliberate flouting of our rules.'

‘Yes, sir.'

Taylor's lips softened. ‘I think this time you mean, “no, sir”.'

‘Yes, sir.' She felt herself smile out of relief.

‘You're free to go.' He couldn't resist one more score. ‘And don't let me ever see you in a situation like this again.'

She escaped. And met Barraclough in the corridor. ‘How did it go?'

‘Well,' she said, ‘I've still got a job.'

He grinned. ‘And I've got some news for you.'

‘Barra?'

‘The skirt,' he said. ‘There's a palm print on it. And guess what?'

‘Go on?'

‘It's Steve Shand's.'

Whatever she had been expecting, it had not been this. She didn't even have to ask whether he was sure. Barra was expert at his job. He did not make mistakes. If he said the palm print was Shand's then Shand's it was.

‘There's more.'

She waited.

‘The toxicology report's back. She was very drunk. But there's more still. She'd been slipped a drug.'

‘What drug?'

‘We're not sure.' He consulted his printout. ‘It's a sort of benzodiazepine.'

She raised her eyebrows.

‘A kind of tranquillizer. She'd have been right out of it.'

‘So someone slipped her something.' She looked up. ‘Our perp?'

‘Could have been.' He hesitated. ‘Or she took them herself.'

She was silent. ‘Something's ticking away in the back of my mind,' she said.

‘Like a little time bomb.' She stopped, tried to focus on what was giving her this uneasy feeling, and failed. ‘I'm going to ring the hospital,' she said. ‘But first  . . .'

She made her way back to her office where Korpanski was sitting, staring fixedly into the computer screen. But knowing Mike as she did she didn't think he was concentrating. She moved behind him and put her hand on his shoulder. ‘It's OK, Mike,' she said. He swivelled round in his chair, his relief tangible. ‘I've just had a ticking off,' she said. ‘That's all. Warnings and it'll stay on my record for five years.' She suddenly wanted to shout. ‘But I still have a job.'

Korpanski nodded, smiled, stood up and kissed her cheek. ‘Great news,' he said. ‘Great news.'

For a minute they simply looked at one another, then Joanna relayed Barra's findings – both the palm print and the initial toxicology report.

Joanna picked up the phone.

‘You want me to leave the room?'

She shook her head. ‘I'm only finding out whether Kayleigh has been assessed by a psychiatrist,' she said.

‘I thought you'd be ringing Levin.'

‘That too,' she said.

SIX

Thursday, 2 December. 11 a.m.

I
t took a while to connect with Dr Bopari and Joanna had practically given up hope when her voice came over the telephone. ‘Inspector Piercy,' she enquired politely.

‘How goes the investigation?'

‘It's progressing,' Joanna said. ‘How is your patient?'

‘Physically she gives us no concern,' Dr Bopari said.

Joanna picked up at once. ‘But mentally?'

‘A psychiatrist has assessed her and that does give us a reason to have some concerns.'

Joanna's ears pricked up. ‘What sort of concerns?'

‘It is not appropriate to discuss this over the telephone,' Dr Bopari said, ‘particularly as Kayleigh herself deserves the right to confidentiality – but I can tell you this. There is evidence that she has been in the habit of self-harming.'

‘Is it possible that I could speak to the psychiatrist?'

Dr Bopari hesitated before caving in. ‘It might be an idea but I must get Kayleigh's permission. If she gives it I'll talk to the doctor concerned and if he is willing he will ring you back presently.'

‘Thank you. Naturally I am only interested in that it might help us find the man who assaulted her. How long do you intend to keep Kayleigh in for?'

‘I'm not too sure at the moment. We're waiting for further psychiatric assessment.'

Joanna thanked her and put the phone down, her feeling of disquiet growing stronger by the minute. Korpanski was watching her, waiting for her direction. She frowned. She needed to be active. But in which direction? She stood up.

‘Right,' she said briskly. ‘Has there been any response from the boards outside Patches?'

Korpanski shook his head. ‘Nothing,' he said. ‘I have the feeling that people will hold back. You know what it's like.' He shifted uncomfortably. ‘People have secrets, don't they? Maybe
they
shouldn't have been there in the first place. Or they were there with someone they shouldn't have been with.' He grinned apologetically. ‘Too much to drink then driving home. Drugs. The fact is that people don't quite trust the police these days, Jo. They think we'll use any way of exacting a conviction without necessarily being too fussy how we got the info in the first place. So it keeps people from coming forward,' he finished.

Joanna tut-tutted. ‘A nice state of affairs.'

‘We-ell.'

‘So we're going to have to flush it out of them, Korpanski, aren't we? And maybe we'll start with Shand's “mates”.' Her mind was starting to untangle. ‘Hesketh-Brown will be talking to Kayleigh's father's two friends as well.'

Her frown deepened at Korpanski's puzzled look and comment: ‘I can't see what he can have to do with it. He's been off the scene for years.'

She justified her actions. ‘He broadly appears to fit Kayleigh's description of the rapist. I want to cover all aspects, that's all. Kayleigh herself is the key to all this.'

‘Obviously.' Sergeant Korpanski was patently in sarcastic mood.

‘I don't mean it in the way you think. I mean her character, her past, the story about her stepfather; truth or untruth? Her habit of self-harming.'

‘OK. Whatever.' At Korpanski's side his telephone rang. He picked it up and listened for a while, then looked confused and covered the mouthpiece. ‘Dr Afarim?'

For a brief moment Joanna, too, was confused. She took the telephone from Korpanski. ‘Detective Inspector Joanna Piercy?' she said.

‘I understood you wanted to talk to me about Kayleigh Harrison?'

Joanna's face cleared. ‘Oh. You're the psychiatrist?'

‘That's correct.' It was a polite, African voice. ‘I am Doctor Zed Afarim, a consultant specializing in adolescent psychiatry. I have interviewed young Kayleigh at length and have formed some opinions.' He paused. ‘But before I talk to you and explain her psyche I would prefer to spend a little more time speaking with her – if that is convenient.'

Joanna was intrigued. ‘Are you suggesting that there is something you can tell me that might help this investigation?'

‘I really would prefer to be more certain about her. But, Inspector, I can tell you this. Kayleigh Harrison is a complicated young lady with plenty of issues.' Another pause. ‘It is possible that her personality does have a bearing on this case and on your investigation. If so I will be happy to help and Kayleigh, too, is anxious for you to get to the bottom of this assault, but I need to spend more time with her first. One more interview should do the trick.'

Joanna smiled. Like many colonialists Dr Zed Afarim had picked up on English idioms. She thanked him.

‘I will be in touch,' he promised. ‘Very soon.'

She looked at Mike. ‘So what do you make of that?'

Korpanski looked uncomfortable. His neck flushed a dusky red. ‘I'm keeping my opinions to myself these days,' he said.

This time it was a knock on the door that interrupted them. Sergeant Alderley peered round. ‘I've got Andrew Crispin here,' he said. ‘Came in of his own accord to make a statement.'

‘Ah – the nightclub bouncer,' Joanna said, satisfied. ‘That's saved us having to drag him in. Good – we'll see him in the interview room.'