Foul Justice (8 page)

“Okay. The minute I hear from Tony, I’ll let you know.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

L
ack of sleep made
her eyes hurt, and the next morning, she found it a strain to concentrate on the road ahead. Thick fog and the glare from the car in front’s fog lamps added to her difficulty.

Worry was taking a chunk out of her heart, too. Despite all his assurances that he would, Tony had neglected to call the previous evening. He
always
made sure he found time in his busy schedule to call her. Which meant one of two things: Either he had arrived at his destination and it was way out of reach of any communication posts, or he’d been captured by the Taliban. She was hoping it was the former of the two scenarios. It didn’t stop that niggling gut instinct she relied upon so much to start up.

He’s fine. Now where will worrying unnecessarily get you?

She nodded as if answering herself and indicated right at the next traffic lights. Parking the car in the station car park, she sucked in a few breaths and began her working day.

 Most of the team was already at their desks when she arrived. “All quiet last night, AJ?”

“Appears to be so far, ma’am.”

“That’s a relief. I’ll be in my office if you need me. Is Katy here yet?” Lorne asked, searching the room.

“Not yet, ma’am…”

They both glanced up at the clock. Eight fifty-five. She still had five minutes to make it.

“Send her in when she gets here, will you?”

“Will do,” AJ replied.

Lorne started on the mail lying on her desk and soon spotted the pathology reports from Patti. There it was in black and white: no evidence to go on. The kids were killed, and their mothers beaten, but not a single hair or fingerprint was picked up to help their case. She opened the rest of the post, feeling disheartened by the news.
Bloody paperwork!

Half an hour had flown past before she realised there was still no sign of Katy. She kicked out at the table leg in annoyance.
Great! I wanted to get down to the security firm first thing.

Lorne left her office to find out what was going on. She called across the incident room, “AJ, no Katy, yet?”

An uncomfortable look covered his handsome face, and he avoided eye contact with her. She knew there was something wrong even before he opened his mouth.

“She arrived about five minutes ago, ma’am. Umm…‌She’s in the ladies’.”

Without responding, Lorne headed for the loo, fearing what she was going to find, if AJ’s demeanour was anything to go by.

At first the toilet appeared to be empty, but then Lorne saw that one of the cubicles was occupied. “Katy? You in there?”

“Shit.”

Lorne heard a fair amount of shuffling coming from inside the loo. “Are you coming out?” she prompted gently.

Silence filled the cold, echoing room. Sighing heavily, Lorne tried again, her patience waning. “I said, ‘Are you—’”

The bolt sounded on the door, and it eased open. The left side of her face showing in the gap, Katy said, “Sorry ma’am. I’ve been sick. Thought I’d be all right for work, but…”

Something told Lorne that her sergeant wasn’t telling her the truth. She stepped up to the cubicle and pushed the door back. “Oh my God! What the hell happened to you?”

Ashamed, Katy’s head dropped. She walked past Lorne and over to the sink. Resting her hands on the porcelain sink, she raised her head up to the cracked mirror above.

Lorne patiently waited for the sergeant to tell her why she had a black eye, a beauty at that. When she sensed no response was imminent, she placed her hand on the younger woman’s arm.

Katy flinched and stepped sideways.

“Katy, it’s all right. Come on. Tell me who did it?”

“I can’t,” Katy mumbled.

“Why on earth not? Were you mugged? Didn’t you see your attacker? Did they come at you from behind?”

With each question, the sergeant shook her head, which only caused Lorne to be more confused. She might’ve been an excellent detective, but her psychic skills were in serious doubt.

Softly, she asked, “Was it someone you know, Katy?”

The sergeant’s gaze remained focused on the floor in front of her, and Lorne suspected she’d just given herself the answer.

“Do you want to press charges, love?” Memories of her own abusive marriage to Tom made her reach out to the young sergeant. She knew what it was like to live a lie, to pretend to those around you that everything was hunky-dory at home, when nothing was further from the truth. At least she’d had the foresight and courage to get out of her marriage before it had escalated to anything as bad as what Katy was obviously going through.

“I couldn’t,” the sergeant said, eventually finding her voice.

“Why?”

“I just can’t. It was my fault,” Katy said, avoiding eye contact with Lorne.

Lorne exhaled a deep breath. How many times had she heard that over the years when dealing with abused wives or girlfriends? Too many. The abused always blamed themselves, believing what their abusive partners had told them during their beatings, often having to deal with numerous violent beatings that in the worst cases left the woman hospitalized, sometimes fighting for her life on a ventilator.

“Nothing you could’ve done would warrant a beating like that, love. Nothing. Come on, talk to me.” She tried to give the younger woman a smile to reassure her, but Katy’s vision remained glued to the ground.

“I can’t,” she repeated. Her right foot made a circle on the tiled floor in front of her.

“Okay. You know what I told you about my door always being open? That still stands.”

“Thanks, I appreciate that, but I’ll be fine. I can deal with it.”

Lorne slammed her hip against the sink and folded her arms. “You don’t look ‘fine.’ I’d suggest you take the day off, but on second thought, I think I’d probably be sending you back home for another beating. Did your boyfriend do this?”

Continuing to toe the floor, Katy gave a brief but reluctant nod.

“Does he make a habit of doing this?”

“This is the second time.”

“Is that why you were transferred?” Lorne asked as the mystery behind why the new sergeant had moved slotted into place. Did Sean Roberts know about her background? Did the super come to that conclusion too? Had they transferred her for her own safety, since she was unwilling to press charges against the bastard?

Katy shrugged, neither confirming nor denying in response.

“What do you want to do, Katy?”

“Ma’am?” she replied, her eyes finally meeting Lorne’s.

“Is he at your place?”

“Yes.”

Lorne smiled and patted her arm. “Well, you can’t go back there, then. What about staying with me for a few days?”

“I couldn’t.” She looked shocked at the prospect.

“Why not? Give me one good reason.” Lorne watched Katy scrape her foot back and forward on the floor a few more times before adding, “That’s settled. After work, we’ll drop by your place, and you can pack a few things. It’ll be fun, and I can get to know you a little better. Actually, it’ll be like old times. Pete often stayed over.”

Lorne watched the different faces Katy pulled, something akin to relief and cringing all rolled into one.

In the end, Katy gave a defeated shrug.

“You stay here. I’ll go get you some camouflage.” Lorne walked through the incident room and into her office. She pulled out an old tube of foundation from deep inside her handbag. The top was caked and hard to shift at first, but after a few seconds, she succeeded in opening it. After wiping the top, she squeezed a little out to test that it hadn’t separated too much.

Then Lorne retraced her steps through the group, pausing at Tracy’s desk. The young officer looked concerned.

Lorne patted Tracy on the shoulder. “It’s all right. She’ll be fine. Katy will be staying with me for a couple of days.”

“I was going to offer to put her up, ma’am.” Tracy looked relieved.

Lorne suspected her relief was more out of concern for Katy than not wanting to become involved in a relationship dispute. “I’m sure she would’ve appreciated that. I’d like to get to know her a bit more, and with Tony being away, this works out well for both of us.”

“Ma’am?”

“Tony’s had to go away for a few days on an internal course,” Lorne lied, regretting that she had mentioned he’d been called away.

“I see. If there is anything I can do, don’t hesitate to ask, ma’am.”

“I’ll let Katy know you’re concerned about her.” Lorne pushed open the door to the ladies’ and found Katy staring in the mirror, a wad of toilet paper in her hand, dabbing at her black eye.

“Here. Let me see.” She gripped Katy by the shoulders and gently wiped the area dry with a tissue before she tentatively started applying the makeup. She covered the affected area with three layers. It wasn’t perfect by any stretch of the imagination, because of their different skin tones, but it was a darn sight better than the rainbow colours Katy had walked into work with, not half an hour before.

The exercise had shown how tough Katy was. She flinched once or twice when Lorne had blended the makeup, but overall, her shoulders had been pulled back with determination, and she’d put up with the pain inflicted, taking it in her stride.

“There. A certain part of you might look like a clown, but I’m sure people won’t stop and stare at you now.”

Katy turned to survey Lorne’s artistic flair and nodded her approval. “Maybe you missed your vocation, ma’am.”

Lorne smiled. “You fit and willing to start duty now, Sergeant?”

Standing to attention, Katy mock saluted and made for the door.

“Right, let’s go and pay this friendly security firm a visit, shall we?”

CHAPTER TWELVE

T
hey arrived at the
swanky office of Trust Us at just after ten. The office was in the middle of a trading estate on the outskirts of East Finchley. The place, which looked more like a showroom than any security office Lorne had ever been in, was decorated in slate grey, and all the furniture was either chrome or black. Two of the four desks were occupied by young, suited men who obviously earned enough not to buy off-the-rack suits.

As soon as the two detectives walked into the office, one of the men gave them a guarded look. He stepped from behind his desk at the rear of the office and approached them, his arm extended ready to shake hands. Lorne deliberately ignored his hand and reached into her pocket to pull out her ID. It was her intention to make the guy feel uneasy from the start.

“I’m DI Simpkins, and this is my partner DS Foster. Show the nice man your ID, will you? Oh no, don’t bother. He’s already seen yours once, hasn’t he?”

Katy had told Lorne outside that he was the guy who’d blatantly refused to give her any of the details she had asked for the previous day, and Lorne was now gunning for him.

The man’s face dropped along with his outstretched arm, and he had the decency to look slightly embarrassed. “I…‌umm…”

Lorne turned her head sideways and held her ear out to the man. “Come on, Mr.…‌? I’m dying to hear why you tried to obstruct a case yesterday. For your information, judges don’t take kindly to that kind of thing in a court of law.”

The man’s jaw flew open, and his demeanour was one of discomfort under her glare. “It’s Philip Underhill. Umm…‌about yesterday. Er…‌I can explain.”

“I’m waiting,” she said, her eyebrows disappearing under her fringe.

“I was about to go out when…‌your partner arrived. I had an urgent appointment that I couldn’t be late for. An important client. You know how it is.”

“Actually, I don’t. My partner was trying to ascertain important information that could make or break our case. In all my years on the force, I’ve never had to obtain a warrant to gain a client’s details from a security firm before. Why the heck should your firm be any different? Answer me that, Mr. Underhill.”

The six-foot-two, mousey-haired guy stuttered as he apologized. “I—I’m sorry…‌You’re right, Inspector.” Turning to Katy, he smiled, though it was more like a grimace. “It was rude and unforgivable of me.”

“At least we’re agreed on one thing. Now, if you have the time, I’d like to see the files you have for the Dobbses and the Kellys.”

He moved towards the black filing cabinet nearest his desk, and after taking a key from his waistcoat pocket, unlocked it.

“Let me see. Ahh, here’s one.” He took a manila folder out of the top drawer and placed it on his desk.

Lorne wandered over and picked up the file and began to read through it. Katy joined her and took the other file from Underhill’s hand before he had a chance to place it on his clutter-free desk.

“What sort of operation do you run here?” Lorne asked, looking up from the file and glancing round the office. “I’ve never seen a security firm with such plush office space before, and I didn’t see any kind of warehouse attached.”

Yes, the building was on an industrial estate, but she had expected some kind of storage unit or factory-type setup. She had her doubts about whether he’d offer her the truth.

“We decided to split the locations. Our warehouse is on the other side of London.”

Lorne frowned. “Why? That doesn’t seem a very practical situation.”

With an air of cockiness he responded, “It suits us. Our systems are second to none. Highly rel—” His cheeks reddened when he realized his mistake.

“Go on. I think you were about to assure us how highly reliable your systems are and your firm is, am I right?”

Underhill fidgeted on the spot for a few seconds before he propped his backside on the desk, tucking his hands between his thighs. “All right. I confess, maybe our systems have been a little dodgy lately, but…”

Sensing he was about to come out with some form of bullshit or other, Lorne raised her hand to stop him. “A
little
dodgy. No shit, Sherlock. And because of your systems conveniently failing like that, we’ve now got three dead kids lying in our mortuary fridges.”

If Lorne didn’t know any better, she would’ve said that snippet of information was news to him as the colour drained from his scrawny face.

“You weren’t aware of that fact, Mr. Underhill?” she queried.