Echoes of Justice (DI Matt Turrell Book 2) (18 page)

‘Best we do this in the ambulance. Make it easier. From the amount of blood think it’s going to need stitches too.’

‘Damn, I haven’t got time for this.’

Sam interrupted his conversation with the police officers and came over.

‘We’ve got everything covered here. You get sorted and I’ll catch up with you.’

‘But—’

‘Or should I call McRay?’

Cursing to himself, Matt allowed the paramedic to lead him to the waiting ambulance. It should be Grant they were attending to, not him.

Chapter 58

After being stitched up in casualty, Matt had been ordered back to CID by McRay. He wanted to be out searching for Grant, but McRay was adamant. Matt couldn’t settle and paced up and down McRay’s office. McRay offered him whisky and Matt downed one tumbler, but refused the second.

‘We need you on the intelligence side now, Matt. You saw these men, fought with them; write down everything that you can remember. I don’t need to tell you how the smallest thing could make the difference. Beside, you’re not fit for duty, go take a look at yourself.’

In the washroom mirror, Matt was surprised at the spreading bruise around his left eye. It didn’t look pretty as the swelling was causing the lid to puff up. The cut to his right arm had been cleaned, stitched and bandaged so aside from a few other minor scrapes and scratches, Matt didn’t think he was too bad. He’d come out of many a rugby match with worse.

Sitting down to write his report, he described every detail as precisely as possible, but still itched to be taking physical action. He’d got to know Grant in these last few days, found out what drove him, made him into the surly, uncommunicative man he was. Yes, he had problems, and probably shouldn’t be a police officer, yet the job had done this to him and maybe, with help, he could carry on in some capacity. Otherwise, there would be nothing left but the booze.

Handing his report over to McRay, a wave of tiredness crept over him.

‘How did it come to this, Matt? No shilly-shallying around now; if I’m to have your back, I need to know. This is more than Grant’s drinking I take it?’

‘It follows on from there, sir.’

McRay listened, only breaking in to clarify a point now and again. At the end, he stood. ‘Right. Now, I’m sending you home.’

Matt was ready to protest.

‘No, Matt. We’ve enough officers out there looking for Grant, Harper-Jones and the others. What I need is you fit for duty tomorrow. Go home and get a good night’s sleep. That’s an order.’

Matt knew enough not to press a point with McRay in this mood, plus he was desperate for sleep. He thought longingly of his own bed and wished, not for the first time, that Angela would disappear.

Matt drove slowly home, hardly noticing his surroundings. For once, none of the historical places he passed could offer him comfort. He thought of Grant and prayed that he was okay. By the time he reached home, he could hardly keep his eyes open.

Eppie was waiting and the door opened before he could get his key in the lock. ‘Matt.’ She anxiously surveyed his face while trying to find a spot to kiss.

He bent forward, putting his good arm around her and relishing in her warmth and smell. ‘Looks worse than it is, really. A good night’s sleep will do the trick. Do you think we could have our bed for the night?’

‘I’ve changed the sheets already.’

‘Angela?’

‘Is out.’

‘She won’t be happy.’

‘Tough.’

Matt grinned and gave her another hug.

‘Are you hungry?’

‘Too tired. Just a drink will do.’

‘I’ll bring it through. Do you need any help?’

Matt kissed her, shook his head and made his way to the bedroom. Stumbling out of his clothes, he fell onto the bed, welcoming it like an old friend. He was fast asleep by the time Eppie came in with his drink, and only stirred later at the sound of Angela’s raised voice.

‘I can’t believe you expect me to sleep on that…that thing. Your own mother.’

‘It’s that or a hotel. Or a park bench for all I care. And,
Mother
, I don’t know how you even dare call yourself that.’

‘I was there for you all those years. You were practically grown by the time I left.’

‘I was twelve.’

‘There you are then.’

‘I still needed you.’

‘Rubbish. I’m sure your Aunt Sandra looked after you fine.’

‘No. No, she didn’t. I ran away. And if she is so perfect, why don’t you go and stay with her?’

‘Instead of my only daughter?’

‘Who has no room. This is getting us nowhere. I’ve made up the sofa bed – would you like me to pull it out for you? Or shall I call a taxi?’

Matt didn’t hear the outcome as he drifted off to sleep again with a smile on his face. He didn’t even feel Eppie slide carefully in beside him, but was conscious of her when he woke the next morning. Turning to look at her, he saw her eyes were slightly puffy, as if she had been crying. As he leaned forward to kiss her, Matt remembered the angry words of last night and wondered how the argument had ended.

Memories of yesterday also flooded back, filling him with a sense of urgency. Eppie was awake now and returned his kiss.

‘Are you hungry?’

‘For more than food. But no time, unfortunately.’

‘You’ll have a shower? You can, can’t you, with that?’ Eppie pointed to the dressing on his arm.

‘Supposed to keep it dry.’

‘Right, I’ll fix that. Then I’ll cook you a bacon sandwich while you shower.’

By the time Eppie had secured his dressing with cling film and he was in the shower, the smell of bacon permeated the flat. He hadn’t asked but the hump on the sofa bed answered the question of Angela.

Conscious of the need to eat, he hurried through the sandwich, thinking of Grant and wondering if there was any news. The sooner he was back at work now, the better. He kissed Eppie and was on his way.

Chapter 59

Arriving at work, Matt found the place a hive of activity. He felt everyone’s eyes on him as he walked down the office and tried to look confident, even though he didn’t feel it. Sam was in the middle of the briefing and noticing McRay was waiting for him, Matt nodded for him to continue.

‘How are you this morning, Matt?’

‘Raring to go, sir.’

‘Well, there has been no sighting of Grant overnight, I’m afraid. We think we have identified some of the heavies involved – the Harris brothers, Ned and Will. Known in Coventry as muscle for hire. Mug shots on your desk for you to confirm. We’ve alerted the West Midlands force that we’re looking for them.’

‘How about Harper-Jones? Grant was working on leads to him as he features in our murder enquiries.’

‘Matt, I’ve passed all the information we have on Harper-Jones to Headquarters. Officers from the North Division are now involved in Grant’s disappearance and I expect you to liaise fully with them. In the meantime, you need to concentrate on your ongoing enquiries.’

‘But, sir—’

‘Don’t argue with me, Matt. You have enough on your plate. I’ll make sure you are kept in the loop.’

Matt would have liked to protest; Grant had to be the priority as far as he was concerned, but McRay gave him no choice. He looked like he had been up all night and was never in the best of moods even without loss of sleep.

‘Matt, I’ve had to bend the truth a little about Grant’s problem, but I need to ask you confidentially. Do you think he might have compromised our investigations?’

Matt’s heart sank. He’d levelled with McRay about Grant’s drinking, but hadn’t included his darkest thoughts that Grant may have unwittingly given away aspects of the case. He knew it was no good lying anymore. ‘It had crossed my mind, sir.’

‘He’d be vulnerable, given his drinking,’ McRay sighed.

Matt nodded, thinking he should have been firmer with Grant, even gone ahead and got him suspended. He’d wanted to give the man a chance and had just made matters worse, not only for the case, but also for Grant. God, he hoped they found him soon.

‘It’s no good blaming yourself, Matt. We might have contained it, given the chance and a bit of co-operation from Grant.’

Matt did blame himself. He’d gone over and over the confrontation of last night as he drove to work, trying to figure out how things could have turned out differently. He couldn’t come up with any alternative besides them both being kidnapped, or lying in a ditch somewhere, freezing to death. No one could last long in this exceptionally cold winter with temperatures dropping to minus sixteen at night. He just hoped Grant wasn’t out there exposed to the elements.

‘The only way to deal with this is for you to concentrate on catching Vinny James and finding his son’s killer before he does.’

Matt knew McRay was right; he had to focus, get on with the job or other people could be in danger. It was no good feeling sorry for himself or Grant – he had a job to do. ‘You’re right, sir. I’d better get back to it.’

‘Good. Keep me up to speed, Matt.’

‘Yes, sir.’

Making his way to where Sam was finishing the briefing, Matt noticed a subdued air hung over the team. There was none of the usual bickering and backchat. He nodded to Sam, aware that everyone was waiting for him to speak. ‘Thanks, Sam. I just wanted to reassure you all that everything possible is being done to find DI Grant.’

Someone called out. ‘Can’t we be involved, sir?’

‘Not officially. That’s down to North Division. We do have two murder enquiries running and the thought is that Grant’s disappearance may be connected to these. It follows that the sooner we catch whoever is responsible in our cases, the nearer we may be to finding Grant.’ Matt stopped and waited until the grumble of voices had died down. ‘However, there is nothing to stop us keeping an extra sharp eye out wherever we go. Or of putting in a bit of unpaid overtime to check any area you think he might be. After all, we know our own patch best.’

There was a murmur of agreement. He knew the team would feel better if they were doing something. It seemed funny to Matt without Grant. He even missed his drawling comments.

‘Remember though, I need your full concentration on the cases we are working on. Other people are at risk and we can’t afford to let them down.’

Matt nodded, conscious of the effort it took to appear as if it was business as usual.

‘Want to fill me in, Sam?’ he said, leading the way to his office.

‘Sure, guv.’

The first thing he noticed was the mug shots for Ned and Will Harris. They matched the two tattooed men from yesterday. Now they’d identified all the men involved, except for Bruiser, surely it would only be a matter of time before they found Grant.

Mindful that he must keep to the guidelines he’d laid down for the team, he ushered Sam to the couch and sat down opposite him.

‘How are you, Matt?’

‘Let’s concentrate on the case, Sam. I’m fine. What do we have?’

‘Got a last known address for Harper-Jones, but it was before he was lifted for fraud. House was in his son’s name and it was sold in 2005.’

‘Location?’

‘Ilmington, a village near Stratford.’

‘Address for the son?’

‘Seems he moved his family to America soon after his father’s conviction.’

‘Don’t blame him. Wife or other family?’

‘Haven’t traced any yet.’

‘North Division will be all over this, but I can’t see how it would hurt to have a decent lunch break for a change. I know a nice pub in Ilmington, the Howard Arms. See if Fl…Jane is free too. We’ll have a case conference. Oh, and, Sam, no one else needs to know.’

Sam grinned. ‘Aye, aye, sir.’

*

Ilmington’s Cotswold stone glowed in the winter sunshine, almost negating the fierce wind that tore at them as soon as they left the warmth of the car. Scurrying into the four-hundred-year-old Howard Arms, they were relieved to find places in front of the roaring log fire and happily took off their coats.

Attacking the menu, Matt decided on soup of the day, which was potato and leek, one of his favourites, served with crusty bread. Sam and Jane went for posh fish and chips. Although Matt was tempted, he didn’t want to spoil his dinner.

While Sam went to the bar to give their order and get drinks, Matt looked around. Not many people had ventured out on such a cold day and most of the half dozen customers looked local. He was just wondering if they should only approach the staff for information on Harold Harper-Jones when Jane, who was warming her hands by the fire, spoke.

‘Can we eat first?’

‘Of course.’

‘Only I can see you eyeing everyone up.’

‘Just accessing the options. Think we’ll stick to staff, unless they point us in another direction.’

‘Good. I’m starving.’

Sam returned with two coffees and half a pint for himself. It was a joy to wrap one’s hands around the steaming cup and Matt leant back in his seat thinking they should do this more often. The warmth from the fire made him sleepy and he stretched out his legs towards it.

Talking shop was difficult, especially when the pub began filling up, so instead they enjoyed their lunch. Thinking he had better get back on track, Matt offered to make it his treat and despite protests from Jane and Sam, headed towards the bar, glad of the chance to approach the barman. Waiting for a lull in people at the bar, he smiled at the young man.

‘Hi. I’m looking for information on Harold Harper-Jones. I believe he lived around here some years ago.’ Matt slid his warrant card across the counter, wanting to keep it low key. The man gave a sigh.

‘Used to come in here all the time, usually with his son. Don’t know much about him, except he got us to order his favourite whisky, nearly a hundred quid a bottle. No one else is going to pay that, so I’ve a couple of bottles going begging, if you’re interested.’

Before handing Matt his receipt, the man scribbled something on it. ‘That’s the name of the damn stuff, in case you know anyone who’ll take it off my hands.’

‘I’ll keep my eyes open.’

The barman turned to serve another customer. At least this was some information and had to be better than nothing. Pocketing his change, Matt started to walk back to the others but found his way blocked by a tough-looking man. Everything about him said ‘copper’ plus Matt remembered him from somewhere.

‘Hello, Inspector Turrell. Lost your way?’

‘You have the advantage?’

‘DI Fraser.’

‘North Division?’

‘Correct. And you have been told to leave this investigation to us.’

‘What investigation?’

‘I’m not even going to justify that with a reply. We’re doing everything we can to find your colleague.’

‘As I would assume.’

Matt was aware that Sam was approaching, followed by Jane. Sam stepped to Matt’s side.

‘Guv?’

‘It’s alright, Sam. Goodbye, DI Fraser.’ Pushing by so that his shoulder forced the man aside, Matt led the way out of the pub, breaking the silence only once they were in the car.

‘At least we know they’re on the ball.’

‘Must be following up the same lead,’ Jane said.

‘Hope they have better luck than we did.’ Sam sounded disappointed.

Matt waited until they had left Ilmington behind and were heading towards Stratford before replying. ‘We didn’t come away empty-handed.’ Responding to their puzzled looks, he passed over the receipt.

Sam was impressed. ‘So if we find somewhere stocking this whisky we could have him.’

‘Correct. But we can only keep this for a couple of hours.’ Both Jane and Sam looked at him. ‘We can’t hold back, not if it means finding Grant.’ He was relieved to take their silence as agreement.