The Murder Wall (25 page)

‘So on this occasion I set a lousy example,’ Daniels bit back defiantly. Leaning against a graffiti-covered wall, she crossed her arms defensively, then uncrossed them again and
began pacing up and down. She turned towards him. ‘Jo is a colleague, too, don’t forget. I was trying—’

‘Spare me the excuses, Kate. You should’ve come clean, and you know it!’ Gormley stuck a finger up at a driver giving them grief. ‘The job tolerates gays these days.
Didn’t anyone ever tell you that?’

Daniels reacted as if he’d slapped her. She stopped pacing and just looked at him hard, her face twisted in anger. ‘
Tolerates
? What sort of a word is that?’

‘You know what I meant.’

‘Yeah, next you’ll be telling me it promotes them too! Well, fuck you!’

‘You may as well. You fucked everyone else!’

Daniels took a deep breath and counted to ten. In dire need of a drink, she persuaded him to go with her to The Bridge.

T
en minutes later, they were deep in conversation, sitting in a quiet corner of the bar, tempers now in check, a couple of much-needed drinks in front of them.

‘Old habits die hard, Hank.’ Daniels had the weight of the world on her shoulders. ‘How could I front up, just because they moved the goalposts?’

‘You’re scary, you know that?’ Gormley spread his hands. ‘It’s just a job, Kate!’

Daniels looked at him. Jo had used those very same words to her once.

Gormley took a packet of cigarettes from his pocket, decided that now was perhaps not the best time to leave her alone while he went outside for a quick fix, and put them away again.

‘Remember Ben Carter?’ he said.

She didn’t answer, though from the look of her she knew what was coming.

‘He was ambitious, too. Lost his wife, his kids . . . The morning he dropped dead, Bright walked over to the duty roster and wiped his name off the board.’ Gormley licked his finger
and drew a horizontal line in the air. ‘That was it. Poor sod wasn’t even cold and he was just another vacancy. You think you’ll be any different?’

Daniels looked away.

‘You only get one life, Kate.’

‘Don’t lecture me, Hank. I know what’s at stake.’

‘Really?’ Gormley shook his head. ‘You just don’t get it, do you? It’s 2009, for Christ’s sake! Gay, straight – who the hell cares?’

‘No. You’re the one doesn’t get it!’ She took a deep breath. ‘On the face of it, people are all very nice, Hank. It’s cool to have a gay friend; every
self-respecting liberal should have one. But scratch beneath the surface and believe me it’s a different story. The Church isn’t the only establishment that denies homosexuality. No.
The glass ceiling’s hard enough to get through without making matters ten times worse.’

Gormley lifted his pint and took a long drink. He was beginning to understand. She was welling up now and he shifted seats so he could sit next to her.

‘Come here . . .’ He put his arm around her, hugged her close. ‘So, who else knows?’

She pulled back. ‘Are you mad? It would be professional suicide to say anything now. I may as well screw her on Martin’s desk with the Chief watching.’

Gormley smiled at the image. ‘Nobody?’

‘No, well . . . my father.’

‘And?’

Daniels swallowed hard. ‘He doesn’t want to know me.’

‘Then he’s a fool.’ Gormley was aware that her relationship with her father was difficult. Not from anything she’d said. It was what she hadn’t said that had given
him that impression. On the rare occasions she’d mentioned her home life, she’d spoken with great affection of her mother. Until now, he’d never really understood why.
‘He’ll come round—’

‘Don’t, Hank.’ She was thoughtful for a moment. ‘Ironic, isn’t it? Jo and I are history, have been for months.’

‘Then why?’

She made a face.
Why d’you think?

63

T
hey re-entered the incident room to find the murder investigation team gathered round Bright, who seemed to be conducting an unofficial meeting. Daniels knew they were in
trouble. She’d been ignoring his calls for the past two hours.

‘Where the hell have you two been?’ Bright said, looking up. ‘A witness came forward who works in a dry cleaner’s. She claims Jo left a bloodstained coat there on Friday
morning that matches the one the taxi driver described in his statement. I think her alleged loss of memory is nothing more than a ploy to deceive us. I know that’s difficult to believe,
given the fact that we have worked with her in the past, but we can’t ignore the evidence.’

Daniels was stunned by the news. What had begun as a small seed of doubt in her mind was fast becoming a strong suspicion. She began to question her own judgement: had she taken the case for the
promotion, or to protect a woman she still loved? Trying to avoid Gormley’s interest, she fiddled with her briefcase, keeping her head down and her thoughts on the subject of Stephens’
sexual brutality. Hadn’t a motive for murder been evident from the start? Hadn’t it weighed her down from the moment she’d recognized him? The answer to both questions had to be
yes.
But she still couldn’t believe that this was a case of unfinished business.

‘Is that wise, guv?’ she said. ‘She might not be medically fit.’

‘I’ll get the Police Surgeon to examine her first,’ Bright said. ‘What’s up? Worried I might upset the Home Office?’

‘No, I couldn’t give a shit about them, but . . .’ Daniels scanned the room. ‘Am I the only one round here who has any doubts? You all know her as well as
I—’

‘OK, try to imagine you
don’t
know her personally. Then take away her qualifications, and what do you have?’ Bright scanned the faces of his team. No one spoke up.
‘Exactly! A woman with a big fucking grudge, that’s what. And now we have enough to arrest her, so I suggest we get on with it.’

Daniels shook her head. ‘I hear you, guv. But I think it’s too soon.’

‘The boss is right,’ Gormley jumped to her defence. ‘Don’t forget there are others in the frame.’

Bright laughed. ‘Yeah, they’re queuing up.’

‘James Stephens dropped out of uni two days prior to his father’s death.
He
still has no alibi,’ Gormley said. ‘And he has one hell of a motive, given
Stephens’ refusal to support him financially.’

Daniels placed a hand on Gormley’s shoulder. ‘Yes, he does, Hank. But Sheffield CID spoke with James’ tutor this morning. He was telling the truth about their affair, and she
swears he was with her at the relevant time.’

It came as no surprise to Gormley to hear that the lad was innocent. A blind man on a galloping horse could see it, if they took the trouble to look. He swung round to face her. ‘That
still leaves Martin! Remember him? Funny blue uniform, scrambled egg on his epaulettes?’

‘Guilty as sin,’ Bright said. ‘But only of wasting police time. He was lying to protect his reputation. Didn’t want his lovely wife Muriel finding out about his
extra-marital activities. She’s a bit of a bunny boiler, is our Muriel. Of course, rumour has it, she already knows.’

He grinned, letting them all know he was responsible for that. Daniels eyed him with disdain. They both knew there was more to it than that. She strongly suspected that the ACC had heard the gun
go off, may even have entered Stephens’ apartment before Monica arrived home. But she knew she’d never be able to prove it, no matter how much she might like to. In the end, she’d
had no choice but to let the matter drop.

‘So it was him that Kim Foreman heard arguing with Wood.’ Gormley took in Daniels’ nod and didn’t wait for a reply. ‘Well, if
she
heard the gun go off, then
so did
he
, the tosser.’

‘He must’ve done,’ Daniels said.

Gormley was sulking now. ‘Well? What are you going to do about that?’

Bright shrugged.

Daniels thought of the insurance in her pocket. She had enough on the tape to put one over on Martin, enough of a lever to get a crown on her shoulder. But that was for another day. She could
see Gormley was furious and there was an uncomfortable exchange between them she hoped others hadn’t seen. He was sending her a clear message: you’ve got to tell him now!

She knew he was right.

It was now or never.

‘Guv . . . There’s something else you should know.’

Her tone of her voice not only had Bright’s attention but also the rest of MIT.

‘Could Hank and I have a private word in your office?’

Knowing it must be important if it had to be said behind closed doors, Bright got to his feet and led them upstairs to mission control. As they all sat down, Daniels took a deep breath, looked
him in the eye and just came right out with it.

‘Jo once told me confidentially that Stephens raped her during their marriage.’

Silence.

Bright’s face paled. He looked accusingly at Gormley, then back at Daniels, his jaw clenching as if he were about to explode. But beneath the anger there was also a look of deep
disappointment, as well as bewilderment as to why she’d kept him in the dark. Fearing his next question, Daniels got in first.

It was time to make up the truth.

‘And before you ask, the answer is no. Hank wasn’t party to the conversation.’

‘Why wasn’t I informed?’ Bright held on to his temper, just.

‘It was my call, guv. I’m telling you now.’

‘Not good enough!’ He waited.

‘If I’m told something in confidence—’

‘Still not good enough. Try again. Jesus, Kate! Have you lost your mind?’

Daniels didn’t know what to say. So she didn’t say anything at all, just left the room, slamming the door behind her. Bright flinched as it damn near came off its hinges and then he
rounded on Gormley.

‘What the hell is wrong with you two? This is the result you’ve been waiting for, right? What we’ve all been waiting for. We’re a team, aren’t we? The Three
Must-get-beers!’

‘Yeah, that’ll be right, guv. Teamwork! You and Kate are both good at that.’

Then he walked out too, leaving Bright baffled as to what was
really
going on.

S
econds later, Gormley was at Daniels’ side as she made her way back down the stairs and along the corridor to her office.

‘You OK?’ he said, after a while.

She glanced sideways. ‘What do you think?’

‘For what it’s worth, I think he’s barking up the wrong tree.’

‘I know he is.’

‘To be that certain, you’d have had to have killed him yourself. You didn’t—’

‘No, of course not, you idiot!’ She stopped walking, and faced him head-on. ‘And by the way, Jo’s impending arrest isn’t our only problem.’

‘Oh, goody.’ Gormley’s tone was sour. ‘What is it this time?’

‘Martin has a snout in the squad.’

‘Maxwell?’

Daniels shrugged. ‘He’s the obvious weak link. Just keep your eyes and ears open. And don’t worry about the ACC. We have ourselves a keepy-back.’

In her office, she delved into her pocket, pulled out the tiny recorder and pressed play. Martin’s voice sounded muffled on the tape:
What the fuck is going on? I’ve just had that
bitch Daniels over here asking stupid bloody questions
. . .

‘All to protect the woman he loves,’ Daniels said, stopping the tape and removing it from the recorder.

‘See, you do have something in common . . .’ Gormley just couldn’t resist the temptation to have a pop at her. ‘Can you live with the hypocrisy?’

‘I think I can manage.’ Daniels threw the tape into her bottom drawer and locked it with a key. ‘Depends how far I’m pushed.’

64

T
he atmosphere was about as tense as it could get. They had been waiting for a good few minutes; Jo Soulsby and her solicitor, William Oliver, on one side of the table,
Detective Superintendent Bright on the other, all of them wondering what was keeping Daniels. Keen to get the interview underway, and growing increasingly angry, Bright looked at his watch and let
out a frustrated sigh. He wasn’t prepared to start until he was good and ready to do so, but, a few minutes later – spurred on by complaints from Oliver – he picked up the
internal phone and punched the number for the incident room.

‘Have you found her yet?’ he asked.

Oliver tapped the dial on his own wristwatch, making a show of his growing impatience. He was a small, stern-looking man in his late forties – Jo Soulsby’s friend and brief for over
twenty years. He could have done without the delay, not to mention the ridiculous allegation against one of his dearest friends. He flinched as Bright barked into the handset.

‘Well, where the bloody hell is she?’

Oliver glared at him. ‘Superintendent, I have other clients to see. I think we’ve waited long enough, don’t you?’

Bright ignored him, his thoughts with Kate Daniels. She’d been acting out of character lately and he’d let it go. But her absence this morning with no notification – let alone
explanation – was unforgiveable, a liberty too far. Even though he had a soft spot for her, he knew he’d have to pull her into line. Forced to proceed without her, he turned his
attention back to the phone.

‘Get Carmichael in here, now!’ he said.

He hung up.

D
aniels slipped quietly into the observation room. Through a two-way mirror, she could see that the interview had been going on for a while: statements, exhibits, crime-scene
photographs lay on the table, along with plastic beakers and a jug of water she knew from experience would be warm.

Lisa Carmichael appeared to be savouring her first experience of sitting in with the guv’nor who was poised like a cheetah waiting for that split second when the moment was right to
pounce. Oliver, on the other hand, seemed far from impressed. In fact, he appeared to find Bright’s approach extremely tiresome. Sighing loudly, the solicitor whispered something to his
client, using his hand to shield his mouth, before replying on her behalf.

‘My client has already answered your question, Superintendent. Did she not just state that she has no knowledge whatsoever of how that photograph came to be in her bin?’

Bright moved on. ‘CCTV puts you on the Quayside shortly after midnight, Mrs Soulsby. Where were you between leaving the reunion and getting into a taxi at one thirty?’