Hushabye (15 page)

“So you’ve got nothing to hide.”

“That’s right.”

Kate smiled, or at least widened her mouth. “Is the knowledge that planning permission for those flats was granted despite the land being contaminated in the public domain as well?” she asked.
Take that, you arrogant bastard.

Stelios looked at her steadily. “Now where did you hear a thing like that?” he asked. A slight shift in his stance made Olbeck take a protective step closer to Kate.

“It’s what we know,
sir
,” she said, with what she hoped was just the right amount of calculated insolence. “We have samples proving contamination.”

Stelios looked at her a moment longer. Then he shrugged. “I have nothing to say, officers,” he said. “Talk to the council. It’s nothing to do with me.”

“You have nothing to say on the matter?”

“I’ve got nothing to say. That sounds like a council matter to me. If you want to question me further, you can talk to my lawyer.”

Olbeck and Kate exchanged a silent glance. They both knew it was pointless going on. The only way they could put the pressure on would be by arresting the man, and they had no grounds to do that.

“We may need to talk to you again, sir,” said Olbeck, in a vaguely threatening tone. Stelios looked amused.

“I’ll look forward to it,” he said. He watched them walk away. Kate just knew he was grinning broadly behind their backs.

Back in the car, they looked at one another.

“Now what?” said Kate.

Olbeck shrugged and started the engine. “We’ll dig into it. Talk to the council. Get that slimy bugger Gary Jones to sweat a little.”

“You think he’s been taking back-handers?”

“I do. But it’s not really our concern. That’s a matter for the Fraud boys and for the council.”

“Mmm.”

Kate watched the road slip away beneath the windscreen, the white lines in the centre of the road merging into one long, light strip in her vision.

“I’m going to talk to Fullman,” she said, eventually.

Olbeck glanced over. “I wouldn’t.”

“I think he needs to start talking a bit more than he has.”

They drew into the station car park. Olbeck drew the car to a standstill.

“I wouldn’t,” he repeated. “Let Anderton take the lead.”

Kate sat still for a moment, chewing her lip. Then she grabbed her bag and slid from the seat. “I’ll risk it,” she said. “I won’t be long.”

Olbeck sighed and handed over the car keys.

“New girl,” he said. “Too bloody keen by half.”

Kate winked. “It’ll wear off soon enough.”

She slammed the driver side door, adjusted the seat and drove off, tipping him a salute as she drove past. She could see him in her rear view mirror as she waited to join the main road, shaking his head slowly.

*

Refusing to listen to the small voice inside her that was telling her not to be so hasty, she drove to Nick Fullman’s office in Wallingham, negotiating the unfamiliar one-way system. Wallingham was a large market town, much developed over the past century and was currently bustling with shoppers, office workers and mothers pushing buggies. Kate averted her eyes from these last whenever she could. She parked the car in the spare parking space outside the offices, smoothed her hair, checked her warrant card and phone and got out.

She hadn’t called ahead, but he was in, of course he was. Mrs Bright must be sitting with Casey – or had he left her on her own? She flashed him a big, bright smile.

“Good morning, Mr Fullman. Are you able to answer a few questions for me?”

She pressed forward as she spoke, and he fell back, allowing her into the building.

“I’m surprised to find you at work, sir,” Kate said, unable to help one little dig.

Fullman scowled. “As you know, Detective Sergeant, I’m a busy man. Now with Gemma gone, I’m twice as busy. Will this take long?”

“I hope not, sir.” Kate found herself a black leather chair opposite Fullman’s mahogany desk and seated herself without waiting to be asked. There was a moment’s silence. Nick Fullman sat down opposite her, his brows drawn down. He wore one of his expensive suits and a snowy-white shirt, but his eyes were ringed with shadow and he was unshaven. Kate wondered how much sleep he’d been getting over the past few weeks. Not a lot, by the look of him. Kate mentally shuffled the topics that she had to question him about and picked the first and hopefully least contentious.

“Can you tell me about your relationship with Rebecca D’Arcy-Warner, Mr Fullman?”

Nick Fullman had clearly not been expecting this. His eyebrows went up.

“Rebecca?” he said. “What about her?”

“I understand that you had a very long term relationship with her.”

“Yes. And?”

“Why did you split up?”

“Why do you want to know? What possible relevance can it have?”

“Please just answer my question, sir. Why did you split up?”

Nick stared at her. “We just grew apart,” he said, stonily.

“There was no other reason?”

“What do you mean?” He didn’t wait for her to answer. “What has she said?”

Kate took the plunge. “She mentioned that you’d been keeping what she called ‘reprehensible company.’ The Costa brothers? Rebecca said she didn’t approve.”

Nick’s eyes bulged. “What? She said that?”

“Is it true?”

“I – I–” he blustered for a moment and then sat forward, putting his large hands on the desk. Kate was reminded rather uneasily of his physical presence. “I have met them, yes. That’s all. They own a lot of property. That’s all. That’s how I met them.”

“You don’t have any business dealings with them?”

“Well–”

“You haven’t, for example, been involved in one of their latest building projects?”

Nick stared at her. “What do you mean?”

“I mean the latest development of new-build flats in Wallingham, Mr Fullman. The development built on brownfield land. The development that was apparently granted permission despite being on contaminated land?”

Nick’s hands were shaking. They both looked at them before he removed them from the desk and tucked them out of sight.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, feebly.

“You don’t, sir? Despite your close friendship with Councillor Jones? Councillor Jones who heads the planning department and has final say over permission granted for new buildings?”

Nick seemed to recollect himself.

“So what?” he said, sitting up a little straighter. “If there’s a problem with the planning permission, you should be talking to the council, not to me. It’s nothing to do with me.”

“Isn’t it?”

“No.”

“Your development of flats, sir. The Costa brothers are part-backers of the project, isn’t that right?”

There was a moment’s silence. Nick turned his face away from her. “I have nothing to say on that matter, officer.”

Kate itched to arrest him. She opened her mouth to start the words of the caution, thought again, shut it. She didn’t know why, but she suddenly knew that the contaminated land issue wasn’t the reason for Charlie’s disappearance. Anderton would scoff, but she
knew
. She remembered Charlie’s little face in the magazine, so tiny and vulnerable. She thought of Mrs Bright and Evie, both mothers and grandmothers, and the words they’d both used to describe Nick.
Jealous, difficult, resentful...
His child was gone and had he even wanted him in the first place? Hot, bitter anger suddenly rose up in her, almost choking her. She couldn’t keep the words back any longer.

“Do you
want
us to find your son, sir?”

Nick’s head whipped around to face her again. He looked stunned.

“What do you mean? Of course I do.”

“Do you, sir?”

“Yes!”

Kate looked him directly in the eye. “Do you want us to find your son, sir?”

Nick put his hands on the desk again and leaned forward. “Are you mad? What do you mean by that?”

Kate spoke quietly. “You’ve not bonded with your son, sir, have you? You hired a nanny to take care of him from birth. You kept him in a nursery way away from your bedroom. You’ve never changed his nappy or fed him or taken care of him yourself, have you, sir? Why is that? Do you resent him?” Nick was staring, aghast.

Kate felt the words coming out of her mouth, unable to stop the torrent of accusation. “You didn’t want him, did you, sir? You were jealous of him, weren’t you? Jealous of a baby screaming all the time, waking in the night, getting all the attention, all the attention that should have been yours? What happened that night, Nick? Did it all get too much for you? Did you–”

“That’s enough!” Nick Fullman was on his feet, facing her across the table, shaking. Kate found herself on her feet too. Her legs felt as though they were going to collapse beneath her.

“How dare you, how dare you–” Nick tripped over the words. “Get out of here. Get out!”

Kate recollected herself. What the hell had just happened there? She attempted to say something, something placatory.

Nick Fullman was coming around the desk. She flinched, unable to help herself. He stopped a few feet away, staring at her with loathing. “Get out,” he said, quietly and with menace.

“Sir–”

“Now!”

She backed away until she was at the door, and then turned, trying not to scurry. She could barely hear anything over the thump of blood in her ears. She reached the car, fumbled for the keys, dropped them, bent to pick them up, dropped them again. When she was finally in the driver’s seat, she sat for a moment, swallowing convulsively.

What the hell, Kate? You idiot
, she told herself in fury.
What have you done?
Through the window of the office, she could see Nick Fullman pick up the phone, and the dread and sickness inside her leapt up another notch.

Chapter Sixteen

Back at the office, she went to the women’s toilets and stood for a moment, regarding her face in the mirror. That last scene with Nick Fullman replayed itself in her head. What had she
done
? She’d virtually accused him of murdering his own son. She thought of Anderton saying ‘get the evidence’ and winced. What evidence did she have, apart from her own dislike of the man? For a moment she thought she was going to be sick.

There was that awful hollow feeling inside, the
I’ve fucked up badly
feeling. A feeling she hadn’t had for years, not since she’d looked at the blue line on a pregnancy test at age sixteen and realised, with a wave of horror and misery washing over her, that she had just ruined her life. And here she was, years later, ruining her life again.

Kate ran the cold taps over her wrists. Perhaps it would be okay. Perhaps Fullman wouldn’t do anything.
Fuck, please don’t let him do anything
. She pulled a paper towel from the dispenser and dried her hands. Then she pinned a neutral expression to her face and went back to the office. Through the inner window, she could see Olbeck put the phone on his desk back down with a bang, soundless through the glass. Then he threw the pencil he was holding across the desk. She squared her shoulders, took a deep breath and went into the room.

Olbeck didn’t look up at her arrival.

“You all right?” said Kate, pleased that her voice sounded so normal.

“Fine.” He looked a little ashamed of the abruptness of his answer. “Domestic dramas. As usual. How was it? Get anything useful?”

I accused Nick Fullman of the murder of his son. Virtually. On no evidence
. Kate mentally shook herself. She wasn’t going to mention anything about the conversation – the argument – that she’d just had with Fullman. What could she say? She recollected her talk with Evie, a million years ago, it now seemed.

“Nick Fullman’s a jealous commitment-phobe who kept his last girlfriend hanging on waiting for marriage and drove her mad in the process. Apparently.”

Olbeck winced. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. “

“Anderton wants an update.”

Kate felt her stomach drop. “Now?”

“Yes. You have to see him the second you get in, apparently.”

Kate slung herself into her chair. “Great.” She swallowed down the nausea that was rising fast. “I’ll go right away.”

Olbeck stared at her. “Are
you
all right?”

Well, I’m about to be utterly bollocked. If not fired
.

“I’m fine,” said Kate shortly, and left the room.

Anderton was seated at his desk when Kate walked into his office. This was the first time she’d seen him in a stationary position since she’d known him, and from this she realised that she was in very deep trouble indeed. She closed the door behind her, noting with detached interest that her legs were actually shaking. She wasn’t sure whether to sit down, but she didn’t want to fall over in a heap.

“Sit down,” said Anderton briefly, and Kate subsided gratefully into a chair.

“I expect you know why you’re here,” he went on. Kate opened her mouth to say something, and he raised a hand, silencing her.

There was a moment of quiet.

“Do you remember me saying at the start of this investigation that I didn’t want anyone steaming in, upsetting people with their own clumsy prejudices?”

Kate swallowed.

“Yes, sir.”

“So why, in fact, have you done just that when I expressly asked you not to?”

Kate’s heartbeat thumped in her ears. She gripped the sides of her chair. “Sir, I–”

“You are a police officer, DS Redman. You work on evidence. Where is your evidence for accusing Nick Fullman of the murder of his child and his nanny?”

Kate closed her eyes briefly. She could actually feel sweat beading on her upper lip.

“Sir, I’m sorry–”

“Do you realise the damage it does to a case when accusations are flung around with no evidence to back them up? Do you want to further jeopardise the safety of a vulnerable baby because of your own emotional issues?”

Kate’s heart was thumping.

“No, I’m sorry, sir. I can’t tell you how sorry I am.” Anderton didn’t say anything for a moment, and she pressed on. “You must admit that we have to at least look at the possibility that Nick Fullman is inv–”