Gone (26 page)

But where was Louise?

Adam sat down. He wasn’t going to panic. Maybe she just ran out to get something for tonight. Maybe the back door had been broken while she was gone.

Adam tapped her phone on his knee. He wished she’d left a note.

For a moment he thought about calling the police. But how would that go? My girlfriend wasn’t here when I got home. It’s the middle of the day and she’s a grown-up.

He’d wait a little while. She’d be back soon.

He got up and stood at the window, pulling the curtain back to look up and down the street. After a couple of minutes he dropped the curtain and grabbed his keys.

Chapter 60

17 December 2010

Freeman headed north again. Going to Jenny’s had been a waste of time. She knew it would be but had to check for herself. Now she was really starting to doubt Jenny was still there. Maybe the note had spooked her. Maybe she knew more about Emma’s murder than they thought. Maybe Lloyd was right and Jenny
had
killed her.

‘You okay?’ Gardner asked.

‘Just thinking,’ she said. ‘You reckon someone like Jenny could be capable of murder?’

Gardner pulled a face. ‘I don’t know anything about her. But we’re all capable of extremes when we’re pushed into a corner.’

Freeman stared at him, thinking about what McIlroy had said –
he killed another copper
.

The sound of her phone shook her from her thoughts. ‘Freeman,’ she answered.

‘Nic, it’s Mike Rogen.’

‘Hi, Mike, what can I do for you?’ she asked.

‘We picked up a guy last night. Possession and drunk and disorderly. He claims to know something about your case. Or your “skelington in the woods”, as he put it. Not the sharpest tool.’

‘What does he claim to know?’ she asked and Gardner turned and looked at her, questioning. She knew that whatever this guy said would probably be bollocks.

‘I don’t know,’ Mike said with a sigh. She could hear shouting in the background, banging on cell doors. She didn’t envy Mike and his team spending all day and night down there in the cells. ‘He was paralytic last night, couldn’t string a sentence together. And to be honest he’s not much better this morning. Said he saw something.’

‘But he didn’t elaborate?’

‘He claims he saw something suspicious. Could’ve been a body being moved. He wouldn’t tell me anything else. He wanted to speak to someone important. Not a uniformed monkey. Apparently.’

Freeman smiled. She liked Mike Rogen and his dry sense of humour. He put up with all sorts of crap but never let it get to him. He even spoke about some of his ‘regular customers’, as he called them, with affection. He probably knew a lot of them better than most of his friends and family, he spent that much time with them.

‘Is there anyone else who can speak to him? I’m heading to Alnwick.’

‘Rang upstairs. They told me to call you. I can try again but they said they were swamped.’

Freeman looked at Gardner. ‘All right. We’ll be there as soon as we can,’ she said.

‘I’ll be waiting,’ Mike said and hung up.

‘What’s up?’ Gardner asked.

‘Some guy who was arrested last night wants to speak to me about Emma Thorley.’ From Gardner’s lack of expression Freeman guessed he’d had the same experience with these chancer-witnesses. ‘He claims he saw something suspicious. A body. Won’t say anything else yet.’

‘Probably full of it,’ he said and then pulled a face. ‘But then you never know.’

Freeman blew out her cheeks. ‘All right, looks like we’re going home then.’

Gardner frowned at her. ‘We?’ he said. ‘What about Swales?’

She shrugged. ‘I don’t think he’ll be going anywhere. Not with his mother upstairs,’ Freeman said. ‘Plus, we won’t be long.’

‘But what if Lucas is headed there now?’

Freeman sighed. ‘I’ll give Williams another call, see what’s happening.’

‘You could just drop me off,’ he said. ‘I’ll meet you there later.’

‘Blyth’s on the way,’ she said and made a turning. ‘We’ll be half an hour. Tops.’

Gardner didn’t say anything. He wasn’t at all interested in going to Blyth. She just wished she knew why.

Freeman got back into the car and hoped Gardner wouldn’t say anything. Pulling over at the side of the road to vomit was hardly professional. He probably thought she’d been out the night before, had a skinful. She supposed that would be better than the truth. She wished it
was
the truth. She put her seatbelt on and pulled away. ‘Sorry about that,’ she said. ‘Must be something I ate.’

Gardner glanced at her but said nothing. She suddenly thought about the breakfast he’d so kindly provided that morning and started to apologise, but thought better of it. She didn’t want to talk about it any more.

Freeman pulled up at the lights and hoped that this drunk would have something useful to say. Anything as long as it was useful. As long as it meant driving back to Blyth had been worth it. That postponing going to Ben Swales’ had been worth it. She was just hoping Williams was true to her word and was going to head back over to Ben’s house. Williams claimed Ben and his mother had been safely tucked up inside under the beady eye of a green PC earlier on. Unfortunately, PC Green had been called away to a fight in the town centre and no one had checked on Ben since. For all they knew Ben could’ve packed up his mother in his shitty car and be halfway to Scotland by now. Williams swore she’d go over herself as soon as she got five minutes. Freeman hoped she could trust her. And that it wasn’t too late.

She looked at Gardner. Maybe he’d been right. The closer she got to Blyth the more she started to think that talking to Ben would’ve been a better use of their time than coming to talk to some drunk looking for a deal. Plus Gardner had barely said a word the whole journey. He’d made a few comments about the case, made a little small-talk when she instigated it. But other than that he’d been quiet. She thought about what McIlroy had told her. There was obviously more to it. You don’t just kill someone and keep on working, whether it’s in another town or not. Maybe he’d messed up and got someone killed. She’d tried Googling his name and the word murder but all that came up were articles about cases he’d worked.

She glanced over at him. He sat slumped in his seat, his jaw clenched. He clearly didn’t want to be going back to Blyth and who could blame him if something that bad was hanging over his head. And yet he
was
going. Did that mean McIlroy had over-dramatised it?

‘Mint?’

Freeman stared at Gardner for a second before realising he’d asked a question. He raised his eyebrows and waved the packet of Polos at her.

‘No,’ she said. ‘Thanks.’ She wondered if he was hinting she had vomit breath. He popped one into his mouth and slid the packet back into his pocket. ‘You don’t sound like you’re from Blyth,’ she said, realising as she said it that trying to subtly get information out of another detective probably wasn’t going to work.

‘You’ve just noticed that,’ he said and smiled. ‘Nice detective work.’

‘No. I noticed your accent before, but I hadn’t given it any thought until just now. Where are you from?’

‘Coventry,’ he said. ‘Originally.’

‘I wouldn’t have guessed that.’

‘Spent a lot of time in London too. Maybe there’s a hint of that in there.’

Freeman nodded. She could pick up little bits of a London accent now that he’d mentioned it. ‘So what made you move up north?’

Gardner cleared his throat and then paused. She thought he wasn’t going to answer.

‘My wife,’ he said eventually and Freeman automatically looked at his left hand. Something he noticed. ‘Divorced,’ he said and Freeman nodded. ‘A long time ago.’

‘Was it because she made you move to Blyth?’

Gardner laughed. ‘That’s where her family lived. She’d been working in London when we met but she wanted to go home. I came with her and we got married six months later.’

‘But it didn’t work out?’ Freeman said. ‘How come?’

Gardner gave her a sideways glance. ‘Sometimes it just doesn’t work,’ he said.

‘So you left when you got divorced? Too many memories?’

‘Something like that.’

There was another silence in the car and Freeman wondered if she’d pushed him too far. She hadn’t asked anything too personal. She hadn’t asked him who he’d killed.

‘So, you keep in touch with any of your old workmates?’ she asked, and Gardner turned and looked at her.

‘What is it you want to know, Detective Freeman?’

She shook her head. ‘Just making conversation.’

‘Right. I gather you’ve already been talking to someone. I can’t blame you for that. But I wouldn’t believe everything you’re told. You know that. You’re a detective.’

‘So why don’t you just tell me what happened?’ she asked.

‘Because it’s irrelevant,’ he said. ‘And none of your business.’

They sat in silence for the rest of the journey, which was thankfully not very long. She knew she shouldn’t have pushed him. And he was right, it
was
irrelevant and none of her business. It wasn’t as if he’d asked a million questions about her vomiting at the side of the road.

Chapter 61

29 November 1999

Gardner pulled in and sat there wondering what the day would bring. For the first time in his life he hated coming to work. As he’d left the night before he’d found dog shit on his windscreen again. He barely blinked before retrieving one of the doggy bags from the boot. After the third time he’d decided there had to be a better way to get rid of it than with the sports section of the
Guardian
. He was starting to think maybe he should get an actual dog to go with the bags. At least he’d have someone to talk to. At least someone would listen when he told them about his crappy life.

He picked up the shit and located McIlroy’s car, returning the crap to its rightful owner. Emptying the contents onto the windscreen, he threw the bag aside. Then he got into his car, put his wipers on to get rid of the remains of the dog turd, and sat watching as people came and went. He didn’t want to go home. The house felt too big, too empty.

But he couldn’t stay at work either. Things were worse than ever. Worse even than in the aftermath of Annie’s announcement. At least then he’d got some pity. Now it was pure scorn. DS Gardner the grass. It made him sick to think about it. He never thought he’d be that person.

The cases he was getting were nearly as shit as the stuff on his windscreen. It wasn’t that DCI Clarkson had it in for him. She was practically the only person to stand by him through the whole thing. It was just that no one wanted to work with him and no matter what was said from on high, if your colleagues haven’t got your back you’re not going to get far. So he was wasting his time on bullshit cases and spending his nights alone.

Maybe he should’ve taken comfort in the knowledge that at least Wallace was going to get his comeuppance. He was now awaiting trial and would hopefully find himself serving at Her Majesty’s Pleasure, though not completely thanks to Gardner. He’d been right in thinking his word wouldn’t exactly be treated as gospel. But when the dealer’s elderly neighbours had come forward and confirmed Gardner’s story suddenly things started being taken seriously. A few too many coppers had been getting away with stuff recently and the media was whipping up a storm of outrage. The top brass decided Wallace would be their poster boy for justice. They didn’t give a monkey’s about the kid who ended up with a brain injury and went blind in one eye. Collateral damage. It was the image of the police force that was at stake and someone had to be the sacrificial pig.

Gardner couldn’t pretend he hadn’t felt anything when Wallace realised he wasn’t getting away with it. But in the end was it all worth it? It didn’t get Annie back – she swore she’d never speak to him again. And it sure as hell didn’t make his own life any easier. He was starting to think he should move, transfer somewhere new. But he didn’t want pricks like Bob McIlroy thinking he’d won. He’d rather spend the rest of his life in misery.