“You didn't say you knew who the dealer was,” Laura said softly, recalling her own interview with Dawn Whitby. Derek's mother glanced away and Laura guessed that even she had been too afraid to disclose everything she knew.
“Do you know who he is?” Thackeray asked carefully. “Is Ounce his real name? Can you identify him?”
“Ounce is what the kids call him. It's like a joke, I suppose. He's called Mr Pound,” Dawn Whitby said. “You see him aroun'. He drives a big blue BMW. I've seen him, even at the Project I've seen him where you'd think Donna Maitland would have more sense than to let a dealer in.” She glanced at Lorraine Maddison.
“We can identify him,” she said.
Thackeray's eyes met Mower's for a second and he saw the triumph there.
“It's Moody,” Mower mouthed. “I bloody knew he was bent.”
“You'll make statements telling us everything you've learned about Mr. Pound?” Thackeray asked the two women, who had linked arms now against the bitter wind. They nodded.
“Gotcha,” Mower said, and raised a clenched fist in the air.
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Later that evening, when Thackeray brought a tray to Laura where she was sitting with her feet up on a sofa, eyes closed and bandaged head resting against a cushion, the fury which had threatened to consume him ever since he had been told she had been taken to hospital gradually eased.
“You're safe now,” he said quietly, putting the tray down on the coffee table and kissing her bruised cheek gently. She opened her eyes and smiled.
“And you're learning to cook. I'll domesticate you yet.”
“I wouldn't bank on it,” he said, peering at the scrambled eggs and bacon he had prepared with a sceptical look before perching himself on the edge of the sofa beside her.
“Are you all right?” she asked. “Now you've got Foreman? Is that the end of it?”
Thackeray did not reply immediately. Had he, he wondered, really exorcised the obsession with Foreman.
“Foreman's saying absolutely nothing but Moody's
decided that he's on our side after all,” he said slowly. “He's giving us chapter and verse on Foreman's drug business, saying he had to get seriously involved to gain Foreman's confidence. And there's enough to charge Foreman with Wilson's murder on Moody's evidence. He says he dropped Foreman off at his house that day â not an unusual event, apparently. Foreman used to go there personally to pick up his dirty videos. And forensics have come up with corroboration of Moody's version of what happened the night of the flood. One of the bullets they took out of his body came from the gun that killed Stevie. Only Foreman could have fired it.”
“So you've got him for two murders.”
“There's a lot of loose ends though,” Thackeray said. “It'll take months to be sure what will stand up in court and what won't. Donna Maitland's death, that's the one which is exercising Kevin Mower, but the crime scene was so contaminated that we'll be unlikely to make a case against anyone there. And Derek, the boy on the roof: Moody denies he was anywhere near the Heights that night, and no one else has come forward in spite of Derek's mother's efforts.”
“And Karen and the babies?”
“Moody says he knows nothing about any of that either.”
“Do you believe him? He could be covering his own tracks,” Laura suggested.
“He could, but if we want him to give evidence as a witness on the rest we may have to accept we'll never know the truth about some things. It's rough justice but maybe the best we can do.”
“I thought you didn't make deals.”
“We don't make deals,” Thackeray said. “But the CPS assess how likely we are to get a conviction, you know that. And you know what that estate's like. There's not enough evidence to pin down anyone for Donna's death, or Derek's, nor likely to be.”
“Or to catch whoever tried to kill me?” Laura said, turning
away, overtaken by the tearfulness which had dogged since she came out of hospital.
“Maybe not,” Thackeray admitted. “We've not traced any witnesses.”
Thackeray sat very still for a moment beside her before he took her hand in his.
“That day,” he began hesitantly. “That day, I really thought I'd lost you. I thought history was repeating itself and I was going to be alone again.” His grip on Laura's hand tightened. “And the thing that hurt most was that I might have missed my chance of asking you what I should have asked you long ago.”
Laura reached forward and put a finger on his lips.
“For a man who asks questions for a living you've been remarkably slow with this one,” she said. “But I'm not sure this is the moment to choose. Can you give me some time?”
Thackeray looked for a moment as if he had been struck across the face, but then he nodded and touched her bruised cheek gently.
“Sorry,” he said. “As much time as you need.”
This is a work of fiction and all characters, firms, organizations, and instants portrayed are imaginary. They are not meant to resemble any counterparts in the real world; in the unlikely event that any similarity does exist it is an unintended coincidence.
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DEATH IN DARK WATERS. Copyright © 2002 by Patricia Hall. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. For information, address St. Martin's Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.
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First published in Great Britain by Allison & Busby Limited
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eISBN 9781429926577
First eBook Edition : May 2011
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Hall, Patricia, 1940 â
Death in dark waters/Patricia Hall.â1st St. Martin's Minotaur ed.
p. cm.
ISBN 0-312-32155-4
1. Thackeray, Michael (Fictitious character)âFiction. 2. Ackroyd, Laura (Fictitious character)âFiction. 3. PoliceâEnglandâYorkshireâFiction. 4. Yorkshire (England)âFiction. 5. Women journalistsâFiction. 6. Drug trafficâFiction. I. Title.
PR6058.A46D439 2004
823'.914âdc22
2003066819
First St. Martin's Minotaur Edition: February 2004