The Burden of Doubt (11 page)

Swift found himself mildly entertained by the canine imagery. He got to his feet and moved to the door. ‘I appreciate the points you’ve made, Damian,’ he said. ‘And you can rely on me and my team to continue driving every possible effort into finding Shaun Busfield.’

Walking away down the corridor Swift examined his current thoughts on the new superintendent. He judged there could have been a time, when he was a young rookie just starting off in the force, that he might have had to struggle in order not to be intimidated by Finch’s covert bullying. Things were different now – he had the confidence of experience and success. But over and above that he had the strength and changed perspective on life which had come following the tragedy of losing Kate. Beside that loss, Damian Finch and his machinations were a mere pinprick. He smiled at the choice of words his mind had thrown up for him. Pinprick, indeed.

In the CID room Laura and Doug were waiting anxiously for the emergence of their boss from the den of Superintendent Finch.

‘Finch,’ Laura was musing. ‘What sort of a name is that?’

‘A bird’s,’ Doug said.

‘Well, I suppose it’s better than Tit.’ Laura grinned, before snapping to attention as Swift appeared in the office.

His mobile trilled before he could speak to his colleagues. On answering he listened for a moment then turned away.

Both Laura and Doug bristled with alertness. Some
breakthrough
in finding Busfield? Things moving at last?

Swift’s call was brief, mainly listening, little talking. ‘I’ll call you back,’ he said. ‘Give me just a few minutes.’ A stillness came over him, some inner focus which instantly communicated itself to Laura and Doug. They watched him get slowly to his feet.

‘I’m sorry,’ he told them. ‘There’s something urgent I have to deal with. You carry on.’

He disappeared through the door and into the corridor beyond, leaving Laura and Doug exchanging glances of conjecture and concern.

The voice on the phone had not been recognizable for few moments, but the message it was carrying was enough to throw Swift temporarily off balance.

The voice belonged to Cat Fallon, a DI Ed had worked with some years ago before he joined West Yorkshire. She was now with the vice squad in Durham, a tough, sharp-nosed detective with a strong, striking face and a heart of 22 carat gold buried deep so that not all her contacts and colleagues were aware of just how genuine and shiny it was.

After introducing herself and reminding him who she was, she came straight to the point. ‘Ed, I’m afraid I’ve got some difficult news to give you—’

‘It’s Naomi, isn’t it?’ A pit of hollowness opened in his stomach.

‘Yes. It’s not the worst, Ed. She’s alive and well.’ There was a pause. ‘She’s been arrested.’

Swift closed his eyes, bracing himself against the edge of his desk with his spare hand. ‘Go on.’

‘For possession of drugs.’

‘What kind of drugs?’

‘Coke.’

‘God!’ The word was no more than a whispered rasp of shock. ‘Are you sure?’ He quickly corrected himself. ‘Sorry, Cat, forget that. How much coke?’

‘About three grams.’

He drew in breath through clenched teeth. ‘So are you charging her with intent to supply?’

‘No. At least, not at this point. It’s … complicated.’

‘Is someone else involved?’ he came in quickly.

‘Yes. I can’t really give more details over the phone. My senior officer wouldn’t be too pleased if he knew I’d contacted you on the quiet. I got the chance to talk to Naomi on her own a little while ago. She asked me to phone. Said she couldn’t bring herself to do it.’ There was a short pause. ‘I think she feels she’s let you down, can’t bear to disappoint you.’

‘Yes, yes, I appreciate what you’re saying, and thanks for making the opportunity to talk to her.’

‘My SIO’s a touch bullish,’ she said, and there was meaningful caution in her tone. A warning. ‘I can give you his extension number if you like. His name’s Len Craven.’

‘No, I’ll drive up right away.’ He judged the timing of the journey up the A1, given that he would hit the evening rush hour as he approached Durham. ‘I should arrive in a couple of hours at the latest. Perhaps you’d let Naomi know I’m on my way. And that I’m not disappointed in her, however things turn out.’

‘OK, Ed. And take care when you’re driving.’ She said it as though she meant it.

Swift found his palms were sweating as he broke the connection. He had a sudden huge longing for Kate; someone to share this blow with, talk through the ins and outs of how to handle things, the conclusions to be drawn, the way forward. Because even if Naomi had had the coke planted on her and was completely innocent, which he hoped against hope she would be, things could still be difficult.

Especially with a bullish SIO in charge at the Drugs Squad.

He rang through to Damian Finch’s office. Mercifully he was not on another line. His voice rang out, grim and confident. ‘Ed?’

‘Damian,’ he said, instinctively going for the personal touch, ‘I’m going to have to go up to Durham for a day or so.’ He took a breath and gave Finch the bare, simple details as Cat had explained them to him.

Finch was instantly understanding. ‘Get off right away, Ed. Just drop everything. I’ll act as SIO on the Farrell case while you’re gone.’ He was all decisiveness and pragmatism.

Swift was appreciative and impressed. ‘Right. Thanks for that.’

‘Your team will have my full support,’ Finch said. ‘And I’ll be sure to make time to supervise the case, whatever the pressures of the rest of my workload.’

‘They’ll value that,’ Swift said, unable to stop himself giving a tight smile of irony.

The journey up the A1 was surprisingly free of hold-ups, despite the weather which had taken a turn for the violent. As the night gathered, a black velvet stain raced across the sky sending down a burst of sleety rain so heavy and abrupt that the motorway was temporarily awash with flood water. Black streams poured down the windscreen as the wipers struggled to gain control.

He took the turn off which approached the city through Bowburn village and the stern countryside to the east of the town, dropping down a slight hill as he drove through the suburbs, then turning left towards the centre and passing the turning to Naomi’s college before he reached the station where she was being held.

There was a fracas going on outside the entrance where a
pink-faced
male uniform was trying to calm two drunken men who were engaged in some heavy physical action. One of them was trying to squeeze the throat of the other man, whilst his opponent reached back, flailing about in the attempt to find a target to thump. It struck Swift that they were way too old for a fight, their podgy bodies and rheumatic legs cramping their style. Swift left the PC to it and went inside the main entrance which was empty apart from a single pathetic-looking small man in his fifties who was sitting on a chair with a wad of tissue stuffed against the end of his nose trying to staunch the bleeding.

Swift made himself known to the officer at the front desk, a young beefy constable, with blond hair and a cheery pink face. ‘I’ve been told you’re holding my daughter, Naomi.’

The young man’s eyes sharpened. ‘Oh, aye. Just one moment, sir.’ He disappeared through a door into the main body of the station.

Moments passed. Swift shifted from one foot to the other, his glance roaming around the reception area. The man with the
bleeding nose caught his eye and gave him a sympathetic smile. ‘Your little lass in trouble, is she, man? That’s bad luck.’

Swift nodded agreement. Blood was still gushing from the man’s nose. ‘Shouldn’t you get that seen to at the hospital?’ he asked.

‘No way. My missus has gone mental. There’s no way I’m leaving here until she’s calmed down. Safest place to be.’

There was that, Swift thought.

The beefy constable was back at the desk. He leaned forward to speak to Swift. ‘If you’d like to come this way, sir. Inspector Fallon would like to speak to you.’

Swift guessed it would be five years since he’d seen Catherine Fallon. She’d aged during that time, but if anything had become even more striking than he remembered. Her strong, even features were framed with dark-brown hair silvering at the temples and cut in a short bob. She was wearing a black suit with an
open-necked
pink shirt. She got to her feet, smiling and offering her hand, her brown eyes warm with welcome. ‘Ed! Long time.’ Her grip was also warm, holding his hand firmly for a few seconds longer than a stranger would have done.

Swift appreciated her greeting which he felt to be unstudied and genuine. ‘Cat! It’s good to see you. And thanks for the help so far.’ He sat down, his face sobering as the issue of Naomi’s situation hit him afresh.

‘I’m really sorry about what’s happened.’ She stopped, considering how to elaborate.

‘I’m guessing you’re skating on thin ice with this one,’ Swift said.

‘Sticking my neck out,’ she agreed. ‘It’s something I’m no stranger to. But I have to be a bit careful here. As I said, Len Craven, my senior officer, has a reputation for not taking a
softly-softly
approach when it comes to apprehending drug offenders. And dealers are definitely not his favourites.’

‘Which I wouldn’t expect them to be as far as the head of the Drugs Squad is concerned,’ Swift pointed out. ‘But I can’t believe Naomi’s been dealing. I can’t really believe she’s been using. But then I’m her father.’

‘Let me tell you what information I’ve gathered so far.’ Cat opened her hands in a gesture which indicated there was going to be some plain speaking. ‘She was travelling as a passenger in a car going along the A167 road in the town, heading south. The car was stopped because there’d been a road rage incident just moments previously. A car had mounted the pavement and one of the pedestrians was taking a pretty serious view of what had happened. He’d pulled a knife on the driver.’

Swift grunted in dismay.

‘It was just routine,’ Cat said. ‘They were stopping everyone passing the place where the incident occurred.’

‘So why detain Naomi? What did she do?’

‘It wasn’t her, Ed; it was the guy she was with.’

‘Who was?’

‘Jasper Guest. He’s a tutor at Naomi’s college.’

‘Ah.’ He looked at Cat, noting the question in her eyes. ‘I don’t think I’ve even heard her mention him. She’s got a long-standing boyfriend from a few years back.’ Come to think of it, he hadn’t heard Naomi mention him either for a few weeks.

‘He’s an interesting guy,’ Cat said. ‘He’s got the looks and charm of a TV soap star and quite a lot of attitude to go with it. He got a First at Oxford. And he’s also got previous.’

Swift groaned.

‘Nothing too dreadful. Suspicion of selling dope when he was a student. Possession of cannabis.’ She stopped.

‘Tell me the worst.’

‘And there was a charge for an affray around the time he graduated, some demo on the campus. He got a few months’ probation.’

Swift blew out a long breath. ‘I suppose it could be worse.’

‘He’s the sort of guy who wouldn’t be able to simply keep quiet if he was stopped while driving and required to get out of the vehicle. Articulate some would call it. The two constables pulling him in to the kerb didn’t take it quite that way.’

Swift had to smile. The picture Cat was building of Guest was not especially pretty in his eyes, but he could imagine Naomi being intrigued by a guy like that. An older man with style and clout.

‘And when they brought him in,’ Cat continued, ‘he rubbed my boss up the wrong way, big time. And not for the first time. Len’s had Guest in before and he made a pretty good sparring partner – which Len kind of loves and loathes at the same time.’

‘Len’s currently under some pressure to squeeze the local dealers. And according to him he’s got the whisper from the ether that Guest might be moving up into a different league from cannabis.’

Swift heard extra meaning behind her words. Her eyes met his and he knew that he was right, but that she felt she couldn’t say anything further. Fair enough, as long as Naomi was released and totally exonerated pronto.

‘So Craven’s holding them both, with Guest as the main suspect and Naomi an accessory?’

‘Well, the stuff was discovered in the glove compartment in which her purse was also placed. Len’s suggesting she knew about it.’

‘Not the hardest of evidence,’ Swift said.

‘No, but not good for her either.’

Swift sighed. ‘What has Naomi said about all this?’

‘She said she knew nothing about the drugs in the locker. And following that she hasn’t made any further comment.’

‘Is Craven holding her in the hope she’ll shop Guest?’

‘I’d guess so.’ She paused. ‘Yes.’

‘But she’s not been charged?’ His voice was hard now.

‘No.’ She looked away and bit down on her lip. ‘He’s a risktaker, Ed. He wants results whatever it takes.’ Her eyes held his once again.
Don’t make me say more.
‘How’s the new Homicide and Major Enquiry team in Bradford?’ she asked.

‘Generally working well, I’d say.’ His tone was non-committal.

‘And the Moira Farrell case?’

‘You’ve been doing your homework,’ he said. ‘We’re stuck. The prime suspect’s gone to ground.’

‘Every SIO’s nightmare,’ she said.

‘We’ll find him – at least that’s the official line.’

Cat smiled. ‘I’ve applied for a DCI job with the Bradford Central Major Enquiry team,’ she told him.

‘Really.’ He heard the pleasure in his exclamation and was faintly surprised to register how pleased he felt. ‘Good luck. When are the interviews?’

‘A couple of weeks. I’ll let you know.’ She smiled.

‘What made you think of a change?’

‘Oh, chance of promotion. A change of scene.’ She meant a change from Craven, but was too loyal to come out with it. ‘The kind of thing that brought me up to this part of the world three years ago, mainly prompted by a split up with my husband.’ Noting his expression of regret, she smiled. ‘It’s OK,’ she said, ‘water long under the bridge.’ She glanced into his face. ‘What about you?’

‘Life without Kate,’ he reflected, allowing a rare admission of sadness into his voice. ‘Well – it goes on.’

Cat refrained from probing further.

‘Is Craven still on duty?’ he asked her.

‘No, he’s gone home on time for once. Leaving Guest and your daughter to sweat it out in the cells.’ She scribbled on her notepad, tore the sheet out and handed it to Swift. ‘His home address,’ she said. ‘Do you want me to come with you? I’m game.’

‘That’s great of you, Cat, but no, I won’t drag you in.’

‘I’m so sorry,’ she said again. ‘This must be a nightmare for you. I haven’t any kids but I’ve got an imagination.’

As he left the room she put her hand briefly on his shoulder.

He found Naomi sitting cross-legged on the bunk in her cell, her gaze directed at her fingers which she was bending then flexing into a steeple. He noticed that there were thick stripes of blonde in her dark hair and that her body looked thinner than he recalled. Her head jerked up as she heard the key in the lock of the cell.

‘Dad!’ She uncurled herself and stepped up close to him, letting him enclose her in his arms. ‘Sorry,’ she muttered. ‘I’m really sorry.’

He held her in an easy but reassuring grip. ‘For what?’

‘Causing all this trouble. Dragging you up here.’

‘Is that all?’

She sniffed as though to ward off tears and nodded vigorously.
‘I’ve no idea where the coke came from. And I’m not a user. I don’t need the stuff.’

‘So what’s your version of events?’

‘I think someone planted it.’

‘That’s a convenient get-out which is something of a cliché,’ he observed.

‘God!’ she exclaimed. ‘To be accused of peddling clichés on top of everything else. But that’s what I truly believe. I can’t think of any other explanation.’

He let his arms drop away from her and the two of them sat on her bunk.

Swift gave her a few moments. ‘What about Jasper Guest?’