The wrong hands, p.22
The Wrong Hands, page 22
‘Fine with me,’ Draper said.
‘Now I’m fairly sure you don’t want to be hanging around here any longer than you’ve already had to and you’re right, I wouldn’t be broken-hearted if you slung your hook. So, because I’m feeling generous, I’m willing to forget all about the proof you agreed to provide and pay you five grand so as you can get on your way. How’s that sound?’ He heard Draper hawk something up and spit it out. ‘Blimey, do you have to?’
‘It sounds like an insult,’ Draper said. ‘The job was for ten, the job I did, so why should you get it for half price?’
‘I’m trying to speed things along, that’s all. Up to you.’
‘I’m not in the business of doing discounts,’ Draper said. ‘I’ll get you what I promised, you’ll pay me what I’m owed and then we can speed things along.’
Cutler sighed and sat back, a headache brewing. Why the hell hadn’t he just asked one of his own team to sort George Panaides out? It would have been simple enough. Why had he decided to outsource the job? A lesson, that’s what it was. ‘I’ve said my bit, Draper, so there you are.’
‘Said mine, too.’
‘Right then, we’re done. Be lucky, yeah?’
‘You be lucky too, Mr Cutler . . . ’
Cutler put the phone down and walked out of the office to take up his position again at the foot of the stairs. He could still hear his wife’s mysterious murmurings coming from the bedroom.
He shouted up. ‘I’m making a cuppa, Jaq . . . you want one?’
There was a pause, a few more murmurs telling whoever she had on the other end of the phone to hang on. Then the bedroom door opened. ‘Yeah, thanks, love. That’d be nice.’
Cutler wandered away towards the kitchen. He shouted again. ‘You fancy a bit of chocolate to go with it? KitKat Chunky or something.’
‘No ta, not for me.’ The bedroom door closed again, but she carried on shouting. ‘But I think there’s a Creme Egg left in the cupboard if you want one . . . ’
FORTY-SIX
The formal debrief on the previous evening’s operation at the Sandy Shores guesthouse had taken place first thing. No, Sullivan had been keen to stress, the end result might not have been absolutely ideal, but it was important to focus on the positives. They had come away with what might prove to be game-changing information, not to mention the fact that every member of the team had carried out their job perfectly.
‘Pretty much faultless,’ Sullivan had said.
‘Right, save for the fact that we don’t actually have a suspect in custody.’ Miller looked around. ‘Unless I’ve missed something.’
‘Yes, well.’ Sullivan had gifted his team a smile clearly designed to suggest a calm wisdom. ‘Personally, I favour a “glass half full” approach.’
‘Remind me never to drink in the same pub as you,’ Miller had said.
Now, half an hour later, a few of the core team sat together in Susan Akers’s office. The DCI had decided that a more free-flowing and creative discussion might be the best way forward with the case, so had gathered those officers she most trusted to provide constructive ideas and genuine insight.
Also, Tim Sullivan.
Akers began by briefly echoing Sullivan’s comments about how efficiently the operation at the guesthouse had been carried out. Miller cut in before she got to the ‘but’ that was intended to move the discussion along.
‘I personally wanted to commend the DI on his delicate handling of Mrs Duddridge at the . . . tail end of the operation,’ Miller said. He shook his head in awe and wonder. ‘The way he handled that woman’s query about muddy boot-prints on her shagpile was a genuine masterclass in sensitive community policing.’
‘Shut up, Miller.’ Sullivan was clearly still riled that once boots – muddy or otherwise – were on the ground the night before, he hadn’t been given something rather more important to do.
‘I’m serious, Tim. You’re obviously wasted in Homicide—’
Akers raised a hand. ‘Yes, please shut up, DS Miller.’
‘Of course, ma’am.’ Miller winked at Sullivan. ‘Seeing as you’ve asked so nicely.’
‘Right, then.’ Akers looked around. ‘What do we think our suspect’s next move is?’
‘Well, we know what he’d like it to be.’ Xiu shuddered, remembering some of the things she’d seen in Driscoll’s notebook. ‘Those lists . . . ’
‘Horrible,’ Miller said. ‘Beyond horrible.’
Akers and Sullivan both nodded.
‘Who in their right mind doesn’t have Ribena Sparkling Blackcurrant on a list of favourite drinks? The man’s obviously more of a monster than we thought, and don’t get me started on his list of things we’d all be better off without.’ He saw the look Akers was giving him so chose not to get started. It was an effective shorthand, developed between them over many productive years working together, which had certainly resulted in fewer disciplinary hearings than would otherwise have been the case.
‘Natalie Bagnall is safe though, correct?’
‘Absolutely,’ Sullivan said. ‘She’s at her parents’ address and we’ve got a squad car parked permanently outside, as well as officers stationed on foot at the back of the property and patrolling the surrounding streets.’
‘I still think she should be in a safe house,’ Miller said.
‘We gave her that option.’ Sullivan looked to Akers. ‘She chose not to take it, ma’am.’
‘We can’t make her,’ Akers said.
‘I’m going to have another word with her,’ Miller said. ‘Soon as we’re done here.’
‘Where’s Driscoll going to go now?’ Xiu asked.
‘I’m not sure he’d risk another guesthouse,’ Sullivan said.
‘Sleeping rough then, maybe?’ Xiu looked around, but nobody appeared to have a better suggestion. ‘Well, we didn’t find a wallet in his room, so I don’t think he’s helpless.’
‘He’s definitely not helpless,’ Miller said. ‘More importantly, he’ll know what we did find in his room. So he knows that we know who his next target is. He won’t do anything daft.’
‘Do you think he knew we were coming last night?’ Xiu asked.
‘Maybe,’ Miller said. ‘Not sure it makes any difference.’
‘Yeah, but if he did . . . isn’t there a chance that he deliberately left that notebook to send us on a wild goose chase?’
‘Good point,’ Miller said. ‘I see now that it might actually make a massive difference.’ He thought about it for a few seconds. ‘No, I’m still not convinced. We know the note he took from Andy Bagnall’s flat was genuine, and that’s where he got the idea that Bagnall’s sister might have the case.’ He looked across at Akers. ‘Unless there’s something we’re not seeing or there’s a list we didn’t find, Natalie’s the only option he’s got left.’
‘I still don’t get it,’ Xiu said.
Miller raised an eyebrow. ‘Only on heavy metal night.’
Xiu glared, but it was clear the comment was lost on everyone else. ‘I know that, for obvious reasons, Wayne Cutler’s the last person Driscoll would want to run into, but if he wants his money so badly, why mess about chasing this stupid briefcase? Why doesn’t he just try and catch Cutler off guard and take it?’
‘It would be a brave man who tried that,’ Akers said.
‘He’s barmy enough, though, right?’ Nobody was arguing with her. ‘So maybe desperate enough . . . ?’
‘Let’s hope he doesn’t get that desperate,’ Miller said. ‘For everyone’s sake.’
Finn was waiting for them in the car park, leaning against the wall, smoking. Miller marched across, surprised but happy to see her, though his expression hardened a little when he got close enough to see her face. The bruising around her nose and eyes had purpled, orange at the edges.
‘Like I told you,’ she said. ‘Not launching any ships.’
Miller reached out, but she leaned away. ‘Not unless they were launched with your face.’
‘Is everything OK?’ Xiu asked.
Finn rummaged in her pocket for a sheet of paper which she quickly began to unfold. ‘We’ve found him.’ She held up a black and white picture of Driscoll blown up from the local paper. It looked like it had been photocopied.
‘What?’ Xiu took the paper from her. ‘Found him where?’
‘Who’s we?’ Miller asked.
‘Me and a few mates,’ Finn said. ‘Other people on the streets that I knock around with, you know? We handed this picture round and everyone kept an eye out. They were angry, after what he did.’
Xiu asked her question again.
‘There’s a row of derelict arches,’ Finn said. ‘On that bit of waste ground, behind the Vic.’
Miller and Xiu exchanged a look. The Victoria was the hospital in which both Wayne Cutler and Driscoll himself had been treated after the incident at the station. More significantly, it was where Natalie Bagnall worked.
‘The lad who spotted him reckons he was sleeping there last night.’
Xiu reached immediately for her radio.
‘Don’t bother,’ Finn said. ‘He’s not there any more.’
They looked at her.
‘We checked.’
Miller began walking quickly away towards the car, Xiu a step or two behind him. ‘He was never going anywhere near her parents’ house.’
Xiu nodded her agreement. ‘He’s planning to go for her at work.’
‘Aren’t you going to tell someone?’ Finn was hurrying to keep up with them. ‘He might still be around there somewhere.’
‘We’ll call it in on the way,’ Miller said.
‘Where are you going?’
Xiu keyed the fob to unlock the car. ‘To see Natalie Bagnall.’
Finn chucked her fag end away and thrust her hands into the pockets of her hoodie. ‘That’s Andy’s sister, right?’
Miller stopped and turned to look at her. With everything that had happened since Finn had first called him asking for help, he’d almost forgotten that she and Andrew Bagnall had been friends. ‘Yeah, his sister.’
‘Can I come?’
‘I’m sorry,’ Xiu said. ‘That really wouldn’t be appropriate, because—’
Miller opened the back door. ‘Hop in . . . ’
FORTY-SEVEN
There was a degree of awkwardness when Natalie Bagnall’s father opened the front door and introductions were made. Perhaps it was because the young woman accompanying the two detectives – aside from having serious facial bruising – was obviously not a police officer. It may just have been because Finn looked like . . . Finn. Mr Bagnall was clearly too polite to ask any questions and Miller, Xiu and Finn were welcomed inside and ushered through to a living room where Natalie and her mother were sitting together.
They both looked exhausted and empty.
Introductions were made again and this time, when eyes finally turned to her, Finn took the initiative. ‘I was a friend of Andy’s,’ she said.
Miller was relieved. Though he had instinctively felt that her being there would be no bad thing, he still hadn’t quite decided how he was going to account for the presence of a homeless drug addict in the home of a victim’s family. He hoped her simple explanation would do.
Natalie stood up, walked across and pulled Finn into a hug.
‘Have you caught him yet?’ Natalie’s father might have been polite, but he was blunt enough when he needed to be.
‘I’m afraid not, sir,’ Xiu said.
Mr Bagnall turned away, shaking his head.
‘But we do have some important new information, which—’
‘We need a quick word with Natalie,’ Miller said.
Mr Bagnall turned back. ‘Anything you’ve got to say to our Natalie concerns us, too.’
‘I understand that,’ Miller said.
‘I’ll be fine, Dad,’ Natalie said.
‘Why don’t I make us all some tea?’ Mrs Bagnall stood up quickly and walked towards the kitchen. ‘Do you want to give me a hand, love?’ She stopped and waited for her husband. Once he’d moved, somewhat reluctantly, across to join her, she took his hand, then looked back to Miller and the others. ‘There’s biscuits, if anyone fancies them.’
Miller thought that cheering would be inappropriate and suppressed the urge to punch the air. ‘That would be smashing, ta.’
The four of them sat down.
‘So what’s this important information, then?’ Natalie asked.
Officers had been dispatched to the house the previous evening. A marked car had been stationed outside ever since and beat officers were patrolling the surrounding streets. Natalie and her parents had been informed that there was reason to be concerned about their well-being, but had refused the offer of a safe house. Now, without going into too much detail (avoiding any mention of the list they’d found at the guesthouse) Xiu explained to Natalie that she was almost certainly in more danger than they’d first thought. They needed to seriously consider taking further steps to ensure her safety, Xiu said, until such time as any threat had been eliminated.
As nobody had told her not to be, Finn was a little more in-your-face about the situation. ‘He thinks you’ve got the briefcase,’ she said. ‘So he’s coming after you.’
Natalie just stared.
Realising that this was the first time Natalie had heard about any briefcase and was unaware of its significance, Miller did his best to explain. Once again he left out some of the more grisly details (severed and by now rotting hands) while at the same time stressing the lengths to which the man they were after was willing to go to get hold of it.
‘I really think you should let us transfer you to a safe house,’ he said. ‘You and your parents.’
Natalie shook her head. ‘We talked about this last night.’
‘I know, but it’s still the sensible thing to do.’
‘I don’t understand. There’s coppers everywhere, so it’s not like he’s going to come knocking on our door, is it?’
‘We just want to be sure,’ Miller said.
The young woman thought about it. ‘So, what happens if I’m shut up somewhere safe and sound for God knows how long?’ She looked at Miller and Xiu. ‘What happens to him?’
‘Hopefully he gives up,’ Xiu said. ‘Once he realises he’s not going to get to you.’
‘And then what? He disappears?’
‘Possibly . . . ’
Now, Finn was staring at Xiu and Miller. ‘But don’t you want to catch him?’
Miller knew that, as per the strictly enforced protocols regarding civilian involvement in police business, he should tell Finn to keep her thoughts and observations to herself. He didn’t. ‘Well, yes, obviously, but—’
‘Right.’ Natalie nodded at Finn. ‘Isn’t catching him the most important thing?’
‘No it isn’t,’ Xiu said. ‘Not when there’s a substantial and documented threat to human life.’
Natalie looked down for a few moments, taking that in, but if Xiu thought that laying the situation out in rather starker language would change the woman’s mind, she was mistaken. ‘No, I’m not having that.’ Natalie raised her head and shook it. ‘I’m not going to hide and give this animal a chance to walk away. Besides which, all of us need to get on with our lives.’ There were tears in her eyes, but she did not wipe them away and her voice didn’t crack or waver. ‘We want to be able to remember Andy without knowing that the man who killed him is still out there, doing God knows what to someone else. My mum and dad want to have some kind of . . . peace. They deserve that. I want to get back to work.’
‘That’s where he’s going to come after you,’ Finn said.
Xiu tried to cut her off. ‘Hang on—’
‘He was spotted near the hospital last night, and it makes sense, when you think about it. He’s already sussed out that he can’t get to you at home, not with coppers all over the show, so the hospital’s his best bet.’ She looked at Miller. ‘Right?’
Xiu was looking at Miller too, glaring, as she waited for him to put a stop to Finn doing . . . whatever she was doing. Miller could see the sense in Xiu’s objections, but he was inclined to ignore them. He was beginning to see where the conversation might be headed, the direction in which Finn was steering it, and he wasn’t altogether sure it was a bad thing.
‘Yeah, that makes sense,’ he said.
Finn stood up and nodded to Natalie. ‘Like she said, this bloke’s an animal and he needs to pay for what he did to Andy. He should pay for . . . everything he’s done.’
Now, Natalie stood up, too and walked slowly across to Finn. She raised a hand to gently touch Finn’s face and Finn let her do it. ‘He did that, right?’
‘I’m fine,’ Finn said. ‘It’s nothing.’
Natalie turned to Miller and Xiu. ‘I’m safe here, yeah? With half the Lancashire constabulary hanging about outside.’
Miller couldn’t say that she wasn’t. A safe house would still have been his preferred option, but this location was about as secure as they could make it.
‘OK, great,’ Natalie said. ‘So . . . if he can’t actually get to me, what’s the harm in letting him try?’
Xiu was starting to look seriously uncomfortable. ‘What’s the harm?’
‘He thinks I might have this briefcase, so why not convince him that I have and let him come and get it?’
‘I’m sorry,’ Xiu said. ‘The idea that you volunteer yourself as some kind of . . . bait to catch this individual is not one that we can possibly condone or approve. Is it, DS Miller?’
Miller stood up, trying to ignore the look from Finn; the hope all too clear in her expression, despite the bruises. ‘Well, it’s certainly thinking outside the box.’
