Written in Blood (21 page)

‘Jamie would love it out there, too.’

‘Shit! Jamie.’ Mariner reached over to his watch and scrambled out of bed. ‘We need to go and pick him up.’

‘What? Why?’

‘There’s been a problem at the hostel. I’ll tell you on the way over.’

Predictably, Anna was livid. ‘It’s ludicrous. I bet he hasn’t really done anything. It’s just political. This would never have happened if Simon was still here.’

‘Of course it wouldn’t.’ Good old Simon.

‘I don’t believe it. You’re still smarting about him?’

For a short time Mariner had been convinced that Anna had fancied Simon, till he’d found out that the man was gay. ‘Don’t be ridiculous. Look, I’m sure once things calm down—’

But now Anna had found another crusade, and one that wasn’t entirely incompatible with the others. ‘If it does,’ she said. ‘And what about the next time? What if he does something else that can be misinterpreted by the locals? His behaviour is like that all the time. That’s Jamie. We won’t know where we are. We’ll have to find him somewhere else.’

She’d reached that decision remarkably quickly. ‘Oh that’ll be easy,’ said Mariner. ‘You’ve been through all this before, remember? There is nowhere else, not in this area. Unless you’re talking about Greencote. Do you think they’d have Jamie back?’

‘And have him back home permanently again?’ Jamie’s old day centre was at least close to where they lived, but without the residential facility. ‘It would be a retrograde step for all of us.’

What she said was true, and it wasn’t good news, but for some strange reason Mariner got the impression that underneath it all she was pleased that this had kicked off. He just didn’t understand why. Okay, she’d never really been happy about the idea of the community hostel, but he couldn’t see how the breakdown of the placement was going to do any of them any favours.

On the way over to collect Jamie up from the day centre they called at the hostel to pick up a few more of his things, mainly because Anna wanted an opportunity to give Louise a piece of her mind. ‘He’s being victimised,’ she said. But hearing the full story she could see, too, that it wasn’t Louise’s fault and that really for the sake of the other residents there was no alternative.

Jamie was at least pleased to see Anna, but the sudden change in routine was disturbing for him and all at once the house seemed too small for the three of them. Tired from the day’s travelling and upset that Jamie was at home again, Anna had limited patience.

Mariner had half-planned to tell her about what had been happening to him, but now wasn’t a good time. Instead, to give Anna and Jamie some space, he picked up the phone.

 

Tony Knox was sprawled in front of the TV nursing a can of beer, relaxing for the first time in . . . well, he couldn’t remember when. When the phone rang he feared the worst, but it was only Mariner. ‘Fancy a drink?’

Knox hesitated. Selina wasn’t due back from her mother’s till about ten, so plenty of time, but he walked through to the hall and examined his face in the mirror. The bruising had about gone. In the dim light of the right pub it was probable that Mariner wouldn’t notice it, and if he did? Knox would just have to fabricate something. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t had the practice just lately. ‘All right,’ he said. ‘Just a quick one. But I’ve had a drink, so can you pick me up?’

‘See you in ten,’ Mariner said.

 

The boss was punctual as always. Knox thought he looked tired, but it hadn’t been as easy few weeks for anyone. They went to the Holly Bush out on the Stourbridge Road, a locals’ pub that did a roaring trade in food. Tonight the lounge was quiet enough to get seats, busy enough for them to pass unnoticed. Knox was glad. Mariner was telling him about the developments with Jamie. ‘I think Anna’s more annoyed because it spoils her plans for a family,’ he was saying.

‘So a week in the company of a four-month-old hasn’t put her off?’

Mariner shook his head ruefully. ‘She’s keener than ever despite having Jamie back. She’s talking about moving to the country now, too.’

‘She must really want it then.’

‘She had me at it this afternoon.’ Mariner flashed a weak smile. ‘Still I suppose it’s like that all the time with you two young lovers.’

Knox almost laughed out loud, the boss was so far from the truth. ‘Not just at the moment, no.’

Mariner realised his mistake, or thought he did. ‘Shit, I’m sorry, of course, I wasn’t thinking—’

‘Don’t worry about it,’ said Knox. Part of him wanted to explain to the boss that he’d misunderstood the reaction, but that would have involved confessing the truth, and right now Knox couldn’t summon the energy.

‘How did you and Theresa make the decision to have kids?’ Mariner asked.

Knox tried to stay calm. ‘To be honest I can’t really remember.’ It seemed like eons ago, and he was fast realising that it was probably the happiest time of his life. If only he’d known. ‘It was just something you did; grew up, got married, had kids. It didn’t seem to be so much of a conscious decision then. You just got on with it.’

‘And how did you feel when they were born?’

Knox felt a stab of pain for what was lost. ‘Brilliant,’ he said, his voice thick with emotion. ‘There’s nothing that prepares you for the strength of that feeling. I mean Liverpool winning the championship in 1978 was pretty fantastic, but even that didn’t come close. I wasn’t allowed in until it was all over, thank God. That was the way it was then. But it was incredible to think that we’d made such a perfect little human being. Amazing.’ He tailed off. ‘A lot’s happened since then.’

‘You’re still on good terms with them.’

‘Only just. And now comes the hard part; introducing them to Selina.’

‘It’s serious then.’

Oh, it was that all right, whether Knox liked it or not. ‘They’re part of my life,’ he said, stating the bald facts. ‘And Selina wants to meet them.’ She’d been nagging him about it for weeks now. It would have happened sooner if it hadn’t been for the bomb. Knox was just worried about what might happen when they did meet.

‘She seems like a great girl. How’s she doing?’

‘She’s getting better all the time. I’m going back to work next week.’

‘You’re ready for that?’

‘I want to get back before the boss leaves.’ It was what he’d told Selina. In truth he felt a desperate need to regain some control over his life.

‘It’ll be weird without the old man,’ Mariner said.

‘Rumour has it his replacement is going to be a woman.’

‘That could be interesting.’

Knox checked his watch again. ‘I could do with getting back. Selina’s at her mum’s but they’ll be bringing her back soon.’

‘Well, I mustn’t keep you from the arms of your beloved,’ grinned Mariner. ‘She’s lucky to have your support.’

‘Yeah.’ It wasn’t the reason Knox needed to get back. The real reason was too embarrassing to admit.

 

When Mariner got home, Anna and Jamie were already in bed and asleep, and he was relieved to avoid any further discussion about kids, or moving. Knox was right though. It was time he got back to work, too. Coleman’s retirement do was tomorrow night and after that he’d only be around for another couple of weeks. Maybe it was time to concentrate his attention on those closest to him. He still hadn’t found out much about Hollis and Jaeger, but there were avenues he could explore professionally in his own time.

 

 

Next morning Anna took Jamie to the day centre on the understanding that Mariner would do the pick-up that evening. It meant that he got in to Granville Lane nice and early to find that things were moving on Lucca, the Albanian. ‘Police over there have picked him up for questioning, ’ Charlie Glover told him.

‘What’s he saying?’

‘They’ve shown him Madeleine’s photograph, but so far he’s denying all knowledge.’

‘What about the fingerprints?’

‘He says there were bin bags in the communal kitchen. He may have touched them, but so could anyone else living in the house.’

‘It’s not true with the tape though, is it? Only the person who bound Madeleine would have touched the inside strips.’

‘We’ve got enough material evidence to bring him back, so they’re holding him until the extradition is agreed.’

‘Where are we on the paperwork?’

‘I’ve got everything together. I was hoping we could go through it before I send it off to the CPS. Talk about pedantic. They virtually want everything in triplicate.’

‘We’ll be grateful in the long run. It’ll ensure that we don’t hand the defence a legal loophole on a plate.’ With some reluctance Mariner put his own investigating on hold.

‘Let’s get on with it, shall we?’

They were deep in discussion when Ella from reception called through to Mariner.

‘It’s Mrs Evans to speak to you.’

‘Mrs Evans?’

‘She says she’s Chloe Evans’ mother?’ Ella ventured, to help him out.

Mariner sighed heavily, guilty unease stirring in his gut. Glover was gesturing to him, something about taking a break. He ignored it. ‘Could you tell her I’ll call back, I’m in the middle of something right now.’

‘You sure, boss?’ Glover said when he’d replaced the phone.

‘This is important. We don’t want to lose Lucca.’

By late afternoon Mariner was satisfied that they’d put together a strong case and they took it to Coleman for countersigning.

‘It’s good work,’ the gaffer said, looking it over.

‘So now we sit back and wait?’ said Glover.

‘We’ll see how it goes. If it seems to be taking too long at the other end we can send someone down to lean on them a bit.’

Glover was doubtful. ‘In theory that’s a great idea, but I’m all banked up with the stuff that happened over Christmas. It’s finding the time.’

‘I’ll see what I can do,’ said Mariner, with half a mind on his own investigation again. A couple more days in London might come in handy. ‘If that’s all right with you, sir.’

‘Whatever gets the job done,’ said Coleman.

 

The day almost over Mariner at last found time for some work of his own. Logging on to the system he did searches on Terry Brady and Marvin Jackson, before trying Hollis and Jaeger. But, limited to the West Midlands database, he came up with nothing. He really needed to get into the system at Harlesden, but to do that he’d also need a bloody good reason. And that he didn’t have, at least, not one that he could give without arousing suspicion. He might have to invent something.

 

Anna had found it impossible to get anyone to look after Jamie that evening, so Mariner went to Jack Coleman’s retirement bash alone. In some ways he was relieved. Any time he and Anna spent alone together would inevitably lead to discussion about kids and he couldn’t face that tonight. He couldn’t find his invitation but that wouldn’t matter. It was being held at Tally Ho, the police training centre, across the road from the county cricket ground. Squeezing the Volvo into a space in the already full car park, by the look of it he was one of the last to arrive.

Walking in, Mariner couldn’t help noticing that he was one of the youngest, too, in a room scattered with men in late middle age. Their neutral lounge suits disguised which side of the law they were on, and could have so easily have identified them as old lags instead of policemen. Hard to tell the difference sometimes. The crowd from Granville Lane had taken up occupancy of one corner of the room, but Mariner didn’t feel much like joining them. Instead he got himself a pint and waited until Jack Coleman, looking less relaxed than normal, was on his own. ‘Having fun sir?’

Coleman shot him a look. ‘Don’t look so smug. You’ll have to do this one day.’

‘Not if I can help it. I’ll sneak out the back door before anyone notices.’

‘You’ll be lucky. Thanks for coming, I appreciate it.’

‘Wouldn’t have missed it for the world. Who are all these people anyway?

‘Ghosts from the past. They’ve even wheeled out some of the blokes I trained with. I haven’t seen most of them for years.’

‘That was back in the days when they used boiling oil instead of tear gas wasn’t it?’ said Mariner. ‘So what will you do when all this is over?’

‘Oh, Glenys has got it all mapped out. My feet won’t touch the ground. First thing is a whistle-stop tour of the grandchildren; Stafford, Preston, Edinburgh.’

‘I didn’t know you had family in Edinburgh.’

‘We honeymooned there. I was trying to get her to hold off until the festival in the summer, but I think she’s terrified that I’ll get so bored in the first three weeks I’ll take up golf or something.’

The Assistant Chief Commissioner cleared his throat into a screeching microphone. Speech time. Mariner shook Coleman’s hand. ‘Best of luck with it, sir.’

‘Thanks. And don’t look on this as a chance to desert me. I’ll be relying on you to keep me in touch with the real world.’

If I’m still around, thought Mariner. He stayed at the bar and had another drink, beginning to feel melancholy. He was going to miss Jack Coleman. They’d never been what you’d call close, but Coleman was probably the nearest thing to a father figure that Mariner had ever had. After the speeches Mariner found himself next to a group of south-east accents. ‘Where are you from?’ he asked out of politeness.

‘Harlesden.’

At first Mariner thought he’d misheard, his head still running on recent conversations, but he hadn’t. ‘Really? Home of the Special Incident Squad.’ Four pairs of eyes turned on him, curiosity and suspicion shared equally between them. ‘I heard it was a very effective unit.’

‘It was.’ The man who answered stood nearest to him, tall and lean with small, dark eyes in a narrow face.

‘Record numbers of convictions,’ Mariner continued. He glanced into his drink. ‘Still, doesn’t look quite so good if you take out the ones that have since been overturned, does it?’