Bye Bye Baby (24 page)

‘Am I wrong, Kate? Aren’t you infatuated with your boss?’

‘That’s so ridiculous!’

‘You talk about him so much.’

‘And you talk about Darth Malek from your stupid “Star Wars” game — at least Jack’s real. And anyway, you never stop talking about that woman, Gail, at your office. I don’t accuse you of being in love with her.’

‘Gail’s forty-seven, Kate,’ he said and she heard the sarcasm. ‘And besides, I didn’t say in love, I said infatuated — there’s a difference.’

‘Oh yeah?’ Kate sneered.

‘If it’s just an infatuation, then I can win you back, Kate. If it’s more, I can’t compete with poster boy.’

‘Don’t call him that.’

‘Why? Does it upset you?’

‘Because he doesn’t deserve it, Dan. He’s innocent and he’s a good boss. Jack’s seeing someone and this is just a fabrication in your mind. You need to blame anyone but yourself for the fact that our relationship is breaking down.’

There, she’d said it. She realised she was breathing hard, the pain in her chest from tears held back was threatening to explode and then the dam would burst and release a torrent. She had to regain control.

His voice came out broken. ‘So our relationship is breaking down — it’s over — is that what you’re saying?’

She sniffed. ‘It doesn’t need me to say it, Dan. It’s what we both know. People in love don’t behave like we do.’

‘Oh, and how do they behave?’ He was getting angry now.

‘They don’t just share the same bed, Dan. They talk, they go out, they make love, they want to be with each other every minute of the day. They think about no one else.’

Silence greeted her outpouring and she felt the tears sting in her eyes at the treachery in her own words. Admit it or not, Jack Hawksworth was the catalyst for this. She and Dan were breaking up, she
could feel it happening in this phone call, and the worst part was, she just wanted to get it over with.

‘The thing is, Dan, I’m not blaming you — we’re both in this together. Maybe it’s our work, but things don’t feel right.’

‘Kate, don’t do this. We’re supposed to be getting married, for god’s sake,’ he begged, all anger gone. ‘Our parents . . .’ He stopped, his voice already ragged.

‘I’m sorry, Dan. We can’t commit to marriage just because our families love us together.’

‘So we change. We’ll move as we planned. I’m earning enough now — you can have your more swanky London address. You’ll need to change your job though, Kate. I don’t mean leaving the Force but you can’t work with that Hawksworth guy. I don’t trust him.’

‘Well, just for the record, I do. And, you see, I don’t believe we are good together any more and I don’t want the life that you’re shaping for me.’

‘And he can give you the life you want, I suppose.’

‘Dan! Shut up about my boss. He’s got nothing to do with this. This is about us and how wrong we are.’

‘I don’t believe you. Where are you?’

‘Why?’

‘I can hear birds.’

‘I’m in a park . . . somewhere to think.’

‘Which park?’

‘I don’t know.’

As if by divine intervention, a voice suddenly asked, ‘Excuse me, is this Waterlow Park?’ Two older people looked down at her, their worried faces telling her they had probably been lost for a while.

She felt sick. ‘Yes, it is.’

‘Do you know where Cumberland Street is?’

‘I’m sorry but I don’t. I don’t live here.’ They looked so anxious, Kate felt obliged to help. ‘Just give me a moment, please.’ She spoke into her phone again. ‘Dan? I’ve got to go.’

‘Waterlow Park. That’s Highgate. Where he lives, right?’

‘You’re getting this so wrong.’

‘We’ll see.’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘Are you coming home tonight?’

‘I’ve got to go.’ She smiled, embarrassed, at the waiting couple.

‘Yes or no?’

‘Yes. See you later.’ Kate snapped the phone shut. ‘Now, let’s see if we can’t find Cumberland Street for you,’ she said to her audience, adding a brightness to her voice she simply didn’t feel.

Dan’s world was collapsing in Stoke Newington. Kate had been acting oddly of late. Nothing he could put his finger on — she had just seemed preoccupied in recent days. Very moody, very distant. She didn’t want affection from him, and all she had for him in return was grumbles. Suddenly nothing he did was right. And yet he was doing nothing differently. The difference was Kate and her involvement in this case — this Operation Danube that she was working on with Mr Fabulous. He’d started calling Hawksworth that after seeing him on one of the news bulletins. He dressed sharply for a cop — that ridiculous pale-striped shirt. Dan would get laughed at if he turned up in that garb. But he could tell Kate loved it. She’d told him to be
quiet in no uncertain terms that night. That was when it had sounded like she cared about her boss. Now he was sure she cared in a completely different way. He’d inadvertently hit an artery with his barbed comments that were simply meant to poke a bit of fun. Now their relationship was haemorrhaging. She was secretive, remote, suddenly dressing very sexily for work, wearing perfume — even though she knew it made him sneeze. He rang Gail.

‘You could be imagining this all, Dan,’ she said when he’d finished pouring out his sorrows. ‘You’ve got no proof, have you?’

‘No, but I live with her, Gail. My gut tells me she’s nuts about this guy.’

‘Well, what do you want to do?’

‘I don’t want to lose Kate. We’re supposed to be marrying any minute — instead, tonight I imagine she’s going to talk about who keeps the CD collection! I don’t know what to do.’

‘She knows you love her?’

‘Of course.’

‘How? We girls like to be told.’

‘She’s a detective, she’s not soppy like that.’

Gail laughed down the phone. ‘Makes no difference, Danny boy. Tough or not, every woman wants to know her man’s crazy for her.’

‘What am I going to do?’ he moaned.

‘Go see him,’ she said.

‘What?’

‘Go have a chat with him and suss him out. Man to man. You’ll know the moment you clap eyes on him. If he’s brave enough to see you, that is. If not, there’s a good chance there’s something going on.’

‘I might take a couple of days off to sort this mess out.’

‘Come in next Wednesday — that’s two official days off. You’ve got so much leave due you anyway.’

‘Thanks, Gail. Have a good weekend.’

‘Any time, honey.’

Dan went looking for anything on Kate’s desk at home that would give him information. He found her diary. She didn’t keep a daily record of anything as far as he could tell, other than the usual dental appointments and so on. He knew she had two diaries — this one and the slimline one she tossed in her choice of bag for the day. The bags changed frequently, depending on the day’s outfit. Her current obsession was some tiny silver designer thing that had cost a small fortune. The bloke in the boutique had carried it to the till as though he was holding something so fragile and priceless it may soil if a customer looked too long at it. Kate had said she wanted it more than anything and at that price he had chosen to make it a wedding gift. Not that it sounded as though there was going to be a wedding any longer.

His mind was wandering. The slimline diary was definitely with her and that was the one more likely to hold personal appointments. He banged his fist on her desk in frustration, dislodging some paperwork that in turn revealed her address book. Kate was methodical, entering every important address into this ‘bible’ as she called it. He snatched at it, ran his finger down the letters and found the H section. There, in big letters, was an entry for Jack Hawksworth — his home address and phone number, circled several times. Dan scribbled it down on a post-it note, grabbed his wallet, car keys and coat, and was out of the door in less than a minute.

25

Jack was so rattled by Deegan’s couched accusation and the announcement that he was being investigated by the Ghost Squad that he decided not to go up to the ops room after all. It wasn’t as though they couldn’t reach him easily enough. Instead, he called Brodie and learned that Billy Fletcher was still to be found. He told his DI to contact him immediately anything broke and said he was nearby; used the excuse that he was running some urgent domestic errands.

He wasn’t sure what to do as he sat outside Giorgio’s and chewed on the panini that suddenly tasted as appealing as cardboard. The coffee helped. Jack thought about just going home but that didn’t feel right. He absently made a decision to head for Westminster Cathedral, barely a couple of minutes’ walk away, where he could reflect in peace on what Deegan could possibly have meant about Liz Drummond, and work out what to say to Superintendent Sharpe about this sinister development.

He walked towards the cathedral but ultimately found himself staring at the bookshelves in Waterstone’s.
Feeling very much on automatic pilot, he was pulled towards the fantasy fiction shelves — perhaps he could just sit in the park with a book. He picked out
Assassin’s Apprentice
, weighted it in his hand as a new idea clicked into place. He gathered his wits again and checked his watch. It was the diversion he needed. He could think just as easily on the underground.

Jack paid for the book and then was moving, dodging the shoppers on his long legs that carried him swiftly to Victoria Station and down into its belly towards the District or Circle Line, whichever would get him fastest to Paddington. His luck was running: a Circle train had just disgorged its bounty and was swallowing up its latest horde. He stood by the doors watching as the seven stops rolled by. Notting Hill and Bayswater arrived and passed and then he was off and running, entering Paddington Station at full trot. Jack scanned the flicking boards for trains to Devon and felt his heart surge when he found Sophie’s train was running late, hadn’t even pulled into the platform yet. He was going to make it, be able to see her again, give her a kiss and a favourite book for her to enjoy on her train ride southwest. And for just a short while he would rediscover his bright mood and forget Deegan’s threats.

He began scanning all the impatient faces lining the platform. There was no sign of a wheelchair. Jack flashed his badge at the platform entrance — not that the dull-eyed attendant could give a damn — and, as the train finally pulled in, strode up the platform looking for Sophie, who would hopefully throw her arms around him and make him feel warm and loved again.

She was nowhere.

He returned to the gate, now swarming with Saturday shoppers. He waited until all the passengers had boarded, until the whistle blew and the train reluctantly heaved itself away from the terminus and back out into daylight. Definitely no Sophie. He dug in his pocket for his mobile and let her number ring, pleased to hear her voice again — even though it had been barely hours.

‘Jack! I was just thinking about you,’ she said and his smile widened.

‘Seems I can’t leave you alone.’

‘I’m glad to hear it. Everything okay?’

‘Yes. I just wanted to give you something small to take away but I missed you.’

He could imagine her frowning. ‘Missed me? Where?’

‘At the station.’

‘What station?’ There was a hint of alarm in her voice, he thought.

‘Paddington. I wanted to catch you on the platform, surprise you.’

‘You came to Paddington to see me?’ she asked, incredulity replacing alarm.

‘It’s official — I’m a stalker.’

‘Well,’ she said, pausing, ‘I don’t know what to say. I’m, um, flattered. What did you want to give me?’

‘A book for your journey. It’s a favourite of mine.’

‘Oh, how thoughtful. And your favourite . . . damn!’

‘Yes, I’ll just have to give it to my other lover now.’

She laughed, all the breeziness back in her tone as she said, ‘Don’t you dare! I think favourite books reveal plenty about the reader. I want to read it and shall claim it as rightfully mine on Sunday.’

‘If you make it back in time,’ he cautioned.

‘I promise to.’

‘So did you catch the train in the end? It was running late, I don’t know how I missed you.’

‘Well, I feel horribly guilty now, Jack, but I took an earlier train. I’m halfway to Exeter already.’

Jack made a sound of indignation. ‘And to think I ran all the way to the Victoria tube.’

‘Sorry,’ she said, amusement in her voice. ‘I’ll make it up to you.’

‘Promise?’

‘With knobs on.’

‘Okay, better let you go. Enjoy the trip.’

‘I’ll call you, and thanks for the nice thought. What’s the book called, by the way?’

He told her.

‘I’ll look forward to it.’

He heard the dial tone and was about to turn away when the station attendant gestured at his warrant badge and said, ‘Handy, those. Free travel, entry anywhere, man.’ He clicked his tongue, impressed.

Jack winked an acknowledgement. ‘What time did the earlier train to Exeter leave?’ he asked, more for something to say than really needing to know.

‘Isn’t one.’

He frowned. ‘Oh? A friend I’d hoped to catch before she left just told me she took the earlier Virgin train. Perhaps half an hour earlier?’

‘There’s only a Great Western train before the one you’ve just seen pull out and that’s at seven-thirty, man.’

‘No, that’s too early and she definitely said Virgin.’

The man shook his head, began rattling a rhythm with his fingers on the knuckles of his other hand, his
gaze drifting. ‘First Virgin train of the day just left, man, next one after twelve. Nothin’ in between.’

Jack nodded. ‘Okay, thanks.’ He walked away, puzzled. His phone distracted him with its low tone and he recognised the number. ‘Hello, chief.’

‘Jack. How’s things?’

‘Alright, thank you, sir. There’s no news as yet — beyond what you already know about the cold case — but I’m hoping to hear more over the day. I’ll call the moment I have something.’

‘Excellent. Well, I’m at home — promised Cathie I’d do some gardening with her.’ Sharpe gave a snort of disgust. ‘Call me any time you know more. In fact, why don’t you come over, share a glass with us?’

‘Sounds nice, thank you.’

‘Cathie’s yelling that you should come over for a meal.’

‘That’s okay, sir, the drink sounds good. Can I call you?’

‘Sure. What’s up?’

Jack hadn’t realised he sounded as though anything might be up but perhaps the old man knew him better than he thought. And Sharpe was his best ally. He came clean. ‘Had you heard that Deegan had moved over to the Ghost Squad?’

Sharpe sighed. ‘Yes, he’s not the right fit for the Ghost Squad. I wish someone had thought to ask me.’

‘He’s made DCI.’

‘He’s ten years older than you, Jack, you can’t mind.’

‘I mind only that he staked me out at Giorgio’s. Ruined my breakfast.’

‘The Ghost Squad staked you out? What’s going on?’

‘He’s gunning for me, sir — well, according to Deegan, he’s hoping to put me under formal investigation.’

Silence greeted this.

‘Sir?’

‘What for?’

‘He didn’t say. Actually, that’s not true — he said something appropriately cryptic that was meaningless to me. But he was clear that he’s planning to make my life difficult.’

‘Your nose is clean isn’t it, Jack?’

‘Squeaky.’

‘Then Deegan can go to hell. Leave it with me.’

‘Er, sir, let’s just leave it alone for a while. See where it goes.’

‘I’m happy to call —’

‘I know. But I think we should let Deegan make the move. If he thinks he’s got me spooked and running to you, it doesn’t look good.’ He hoped his Super wouldn’t press it. ‘Everyone knows Dad and you go back a long way. You’ve looked out for me long enough, sir. Let’s see what happens.’

‘I understand. Let me know when we can see you over the weekend. We’ll talk then. In the meantime, watch your back.’

‘I will, sir.’

Jack clicked off the phone, found himself close to the ticketing office. There was only one person in the queue. While he dithered, wondering just how paranoid he was being, the person was served and vacated the window.

‘Yes, please?’ the attendant said, eyeing Jack balefully.

He couldn’t back off now. ‘Um, can you tell me which trains run from Paddington to Devonport, please?’

‘Which days?’

‘Today. Saturday.’

Jack watched the man’s fingers rattle on the keyboard.

‘Saturday . . . Saturday. Ah, here we are.’ He gave Jack the identical times the platform attendant had.

‘So, nothing between seven-thirty and ten-oh-five on any line?’

‘No, not even from Waterloo.’

Jack shook his head. Sophie had no reason to lie to him, especially after their evening together. ‘Tell me, are you hooked up there to reservations?’

‘This
is
the ticket office, sir,’ the man said, his tone droll.

‘I mean, can you check on a reservation?’

‘Only if it’s yours, sir,’ he replied.

Jack took out his warrant card, spun it beneath the glass divider.

The ticketing officer gave him an ironic smile. ‘I’ll get my manager.’ He put up a use-other-window sign at his counter and indicated the side entrance with his chin. ‘Come inside.’

Jack waited while his credentials were shown to a large woman with what looked like a million tiny beaded plaits flowing off her scalp.

‘Scotland Yard?’ she said, coming towards him and beaming with lips glossed blood-red. ‘This
is
exciting. How can we help?’

‘Can you look up a reservation for me, please?’

‘Someone been naughty?’ she said, her eyes
twinkling. ‘I’ll handle this, Les, thanks.’ She sat down at the man’s terminal, her long immaculately-painted nails poised over the grubby keyboard. ‘What name?’

‘Fenton.’ He spelled it out. ‘First name Sophie, with a “ph”. She was travelling from here to Devon today.’

She keyed in the name, shook her head. ‘No Sophie Fenton booked on any services today out of anywhere, but she could have purchased a ticket for a non-reserved seat, paid cash and we’d be none the wiser.’

‘Yes, of course. I’m just taking precautions.’

‘Hey, you look familiar.’

Jack squirmed, forced a grin. ‘I don’t think so.’

‘Wishful thinking maybe,’ she replied and gave him a lascivious look.

‘Right,’ Jack said, suddenly uncomfortable. ‘Thanks . . . er, Mabel,’ he glanced at the badge on her breast and looked away hurriedly. ‘I appreciate your help.’

‘Ask for it any time, but make sure you ask for me only,’ and she gave a snort of laughter to his retreating back.

Standing across the road from Coleridge House at Highgate, Dan glared at the facade of the mansion apartments. He contemplated ringing Kate again, gripped by a bitter sense of triumph now he was here. His imagination spun out of control as he contemplated that a call may find her rolling around on her boss’s sheets up there. He flicked his phone shut, crossed the street and entered the apartment building. It smelled of potpourri and money. He grimaced, realising only now that using the lift would require a security card.

He stood there, staring at the floor numbers with impotent fury, when the lift chugged to life on the fourth floor. A few moments later the doors opened and a woman stepped out. She glanced at him only briefly and walked past.

‘Er, excuse me,’ Dan said. ‘Sorry to disturb you but I need to reach Jack Hawksworth, except I can’t get up in the lift.’

‘You need one of these,’ the woman said, holding up a keycard, a strong foreign accent colouring her speech.

‘Yes, I realise that now. It’s an emergency actually. I have to deliver something — er, he asked me to push it under the door.’

‘You work with Mr Hawksworth?’ She pronounced her ‘W’s with a hard ‘V’ sound. German, no doubt.

‘DCI Hawksworth, yes, er, at Scotland Yard,’ Dan said.

‘Why not go there?’

‘I’m supposed to leave what he needs somewhere private.’ Dan had no idea what to say if she suddenly demanded to see this thing he kept referring to. ‘We’re working on a secret case.’ If this was any other situation, Dan would have laughed at the ridiculously childish lie. But the German woman’s expression didn’t flinch.

‘Ja, I understand. I heard he works on this important case.’

‘May I borrow your card to —’

She held up a hand, began moving towards the door. ‘No, no. My card, it is not lent to anyone. Anyway, I don’t think he’s at home. You should make another arrangement. Ring him on his mobile phone.’

‘How do you know he’s not at home?’

‘Because I assume you’ve already tried ringing upstairs,’ she said flatly. ‘Excuse me, I must go.’

Dismayed at how easily his plan had been thwarted, Dan watched the German woman hurry out. She used the fire exit, which was odd, he thought, but then so was she. His phone rang. ‘Dan Rogers,’ he answered distractedly.

‘Dan, hi, it’s Jack Hawksworth here. I’m Kate’s DCI at the Yard.’

He was stunned. ‘Yeah, I know you are.’

‘Oh, right. Look, she tried to reach me but I was a bit tied up and now I’m having no luck getting back to her.’

Dan snorted. They really did take him for an idiot. ‘Yeah, I’ll bet you’re tied up. Just roll over and talk to her, mate!’

‘Pardon?’

‘You heard.’

‘Dan?’

‘Don’t call me Dan as though you know me, as if we’re friends.’

‘Er, look, I’m not sure what’s going on here, or what you think is going on, but I’m Kate’s boss and I’m simply trying to return her call.’

‘Pull the other one. I’m going to have you reported, Hawksworth.’

‘Now, just a minute!’

‘No, this is bullshit! Why was Kate in Highgate this morning if she wasn’t with you, you sod?’

‘Highgate? I don’t know what you’re talking about. I have no idea where she is, which might explain why I’m calling you.’

Dan ignored him. ‘She didn’t come home last night. She rang me this morning from Highgate. I’m standing outside your place right now. If I could, I’d get up into your rich boy apartment and beat the shit out of you before I trash the place.’