Killing for Keeps (15 page)

D
ixie Price lived deep in Catherine Cookson country in the exquisitely tranquil village of Blanchland. Situated on the Northumberland–Durham border, the conservation
village was at the upper end of the Derwent Valley, not far from the reservoir of the same name. Built from the stone of a twelfth-century abbey, the village hadn’t changed in centuries.
Daniels knew it well. Surrounded by woods and open countryside, it was a favourite stop-off for tourists. There was nothing there bar a post office, a shop, a public house, a church and tearoom
– nothing like the one she’d fled from a matter of hours ago, leaving her tea untouched.

Poor Towner.

Hank was staring at her expectantly.

Kate couldn’t shake the image of the accident. ‘Sorry, I missed that.’

‘That’s because you weren’t listening.’ He made no attempt to hide his frustration, telling her to pull herself together and stop dwelling on Towner. He knew her so well.
‘I said we should meet Price over a meal at the Lord Crewe Arms. You look completely shagged out and I could do with some grub if we’re pushing on through.’

‘Fine. Whatever.’ Kate had no stomach for food.

‘Don’t look so sour-faced. I’m not like you,’ Hank grumbled. ‘I can’t survive on a lettuce leaf or a boiled egg.’ He pointed at the glove box.
‘You got anything decent to eat in there? Kit-Kat, bag of crisps, chicken tikka masala . . . ? I’m famished.’

Smiling, then crying, Kate could only shake her head. He was like a child over food and journey times.
Are we nearly there yet?
Wiping away a tear with her sleeve, she was so grateful
to have him with her. He was still looking at her with pleading eyes when she remembered that the Lord Crewe had closed down for renovation. When she relayed that fact, he grumbled some more. She
glanced at her watch. It was getting on for seven-thirty. In the sticks, nothing else would be open at this time of night. They would have to meet Price at his home address.

T
he rented cottage was set back off the main street, picture-postcard pretty with roses round the door, a little garden at the rear. Thick walls and stone floors made it feel
cool inside. The décor was cosy: rugs on the floors, subdued lighting, sketches on the walls. Price was quite an artist in his spare time. With just a dog for company, there was little else
to do in Blanchland.

Kate received a firm handshake.

The Durham officer had grey eyes, bushy eyebrows to match and an unusual streak the same colour running through short-cropped hair the colour of sand. Introductions over, he offered them tea and
something to eat, lightening Hank’s mood a little. Disappearing to the kitchen, he returned with a tray bearing tea and enough sandwiches to feed the whole of the Murder Investigation Team
– and then some.

As he set it down, Hank didn’t stand on ceremony. He showed his appreciation by filling his plate, telling their host he hadn’t eaten since breakfast. As Hank got stuck in, Price
explained why he was so keen to talk to them. He’d recognized Arthur McKenzie from the photo Naylor put out on an internal bulletin that very afternoon.

‘This is bloody great!’ Hank held up a half-eaten sandwich, wiping butter from his chin with his free hand. ‘You don’t need a lodger, do you, mate?’

Price grinned. ‘Dig in, I’ve eaten.’ He turned towards Kate. ‘Ma’am, please help yourself.’

Declining food, she accepted a mug of steaming hot tea. She wished Hank would shut up. He was asking Price how long he’d been in the Dog Section. The officer told him six years. He was due
a transfer in a few weeks, finally making detective after years of trying, and couldn’t wait to bin the uniform. His dog had put his paws up last year after an injury acquired while on duty
had put him out of action. It was then that Price had decided to reapply to join the CID – this time successfully.

Hank eyed the springer spaniel, who in turn eyed him – or rather the food in his hand. ‘What’s his name?’

‘Molly’s a bitch, aren’t you, girl?’

A tail wagged. Ignoring her handler, the dog inched closer to Hank.

‘Aren’t most police dogs male?’ Hank was clueless on such matters.

‘Hank!’ Losing patience, Kate glared at him. ‘Eat, will you, and let me get some answers, or we’ll be here all night.’ She turned to Price. ‘A member of my
team said you saw McKenzie, is that correct?’

‘Yes, I did.’

‘When was this?’

‘’Bout four o’clock. I was sitting in the White Monk and the bugger walked in, large as life. I finished my shift at two and called in for a bowl of soup on my way home. I know
the owners, Tony and Viv, quite well. They feed me, and in return I keep an unofficial eye on the place when it’s closed, check that it’s secure, that type of thing. I’m a
key-holder actually.’ Price got up, threw another log on the fire. He remained standing, his back to the fireplace, feet slightly apart, hands by his sides, almost to attention.
‘McKenzie ordered stuff to take out – rather a lot for one person, I would’ve said. That’s what drew my interest. When he turned around, I clocked him straight away. I
didn’t follow him out in case he saw me. By the time I made it outside, he’d disappeared.’

‘And that’s going to help me how?’ Kate was beginning to lose the will to live.

‘He’s still in the village—’

‘Makes you say that?’ Hank stopped chewing, finally interested in doing some police work. ‘I thought you said he disappeared.’

‘Did he drive away or not?’ Kate queried.

‘No, he didn’t.’ Price told them that the population of Blanchland was less than a hundred and fifty. Strangers couldn’t hide for long. He’d initially thought
McKenzie was passing through, except he hadn’t driven by. Price was clear about that. He’d kept his eyes on the road beyond the cafe window the whole time, he explained. ‘If you
know the White Monk, you’ll know it’s strategically placed to see what’s coming and going. I guarantee no cars drove through the village either way. If they had, I’d have
seen them.’

‘So how come we’re hearing about it now?’ Kate asked.

Price flushed slightly. ‘Your team said you weren’t answering your mobile. You or DS Gormley.’

‘We were tied up.’ Hank moved quickly on: ‘Couldn’t McKenzie have been eating his scran in his car?’

Price shook his head. ‘No, I made it my business to check parked cars in the vicinity before I called the incident room. To have vanished that quickly, he’d have to have gone into
one of the houses in the village.’

‘Problem is, which one?’ Kate’s eyes scanned the quiet street outside, wondering if she’d already been seen arriving. ‘I don’t want to tip him off. Not that
he’s done anything wrong; it’s what might be done to him that worries me.’ She refocused on Price. ‘The guys after him are serious shit from Glasgow.’

Price grinned.

He knew something she didn’t.

‘Only one house has been advertised “to let” in the past few weeks,’ he said. ‘And spookily it was rented by a couple who aren’t too friendly, by all
accounts. I asked around, people I trust. You’re in business, ma’am.’

T
he village was silent. The street deserted. Price led the way along the road, pointing out a house at the end of a short terrace. Kate felt as if she was being watched from
the houses round the square. There were no curtains twitching, but in villages like these, as Price had already pointed out, people were wary of strangers. Not surprising, given that the police
presence would consist only of a drive-through every now and then to show the flag. Rural crime had rocketed since the recession hit. Prigs were having a field day, burgling at will, knowing
they’d be long gone by the time the law showed up. Folks round here looked out for each other.

They had to: no bugger else would.

Kate glanced at Price, deciding what action to take. ‘Hank and I will take the front door. You take the back. If they do a runner, there’s not a lot we can do. If you can try and
persuade them not to, I’d appreciate it. If we get in, we’ll text you, so you can stand down.’ She tapped Hank on the arm. ‘Ready?’

He gave a little nod.

Price set off around the side of the property. Kate gave him a few moments to get into position and then knocked at the front door. She couldn’t see anything through the window – or
hear a sound – but she sensed someone inside. Whether they would answer or not was anyone’s guess.

More eyes on her back . . .

Seconds later, the door opened, the chain still on.

‘Remember me, Theresa?’ Kate peered in through the narrow opening. ‘Can we come in, only we don’t want to be standing on the doorstep in full view of the whole village,
do we? You never know who else might be watching.’

The veiled threat worked.

Satisfied that there was no one else in the street, Theresa undid the chain and the door swung open. She stood back to let them in, glaring at them as they walked past her into the hallway.
Dressed in jeans and an old T-shirt, she had no make-up on and seemed to have aged since Kate had last seen her, baggy eyes testament to a sleepless night. Kate shifted her gaze. McKenzie
hadn’t moved from a fireside chair. He was fit, younger than his years. On the floor next to him was a full-sized and well-used baseball bat.

Hank pointed at it. ‘Been having a knock around in the garden, have we?’

McKenzie gave him a hard stare. He sent Theresa to fetch him a drink, the pink tinge to the whites of his eyes suggesting that it wasn’t the first that day – maybe a good thing that
the bar across the road was closed. Theresa returned with a tumbler of neat whisky, the smell of food drifting in with her as she re-entered the room. There was no music on. No TV. No books or
magazines scattered about.

These two weren’t relaxing, that was for sure.

‘Let’s not bugger about, eh?’ Kate identified herself and came straight to the point. ‘You appreciate that if I found you, other people could.’

McKenzie took a slug of his drink. ‘How did you find us?’

She gave him a pointed look. ‘I’m asking the questions.’

‘You make it sound like we’re in danger, Detective Chief Inspector.’

‘Tell me about the O’Kanes.’

‘Who?’ McKenzie asked.

‘Cut the crap,’ Kate said. ‘You know who’s after you and so do we. I can see from your face that they mean business. Otherwise you wouldn’t be hiding away in the
back of beyond now, would you?’

McKenzie dropped the attitude and made a plea for legitimacy. ‘I’m clean since I got out of the pokey. If you bastards were doing your jobs properly, you’d know that.
I’ve had my head down, setting up an antiques business. And before you ask, it’s genuine. Not that I expect a polis to believe that.’

‘He’s right,’ Theresa added. ‘What he did in the past stayed in the past.’

‘We’re glad to hear it,’ the DCI countered, her focus shifting from Theresa back to her boyfriend. ‘Whether that is truth or fantasy doesn’t concern us –
that’s not why we’re here. You know
exactly
why we’re here. You also know who else is interested in your whereabouts and the reason for that. The O’Kanes think you
killed their father.’ Kate pointed at Theresa. ‘Along with her ex.’

‘That had nothing to do with me!’ McKenzie protested.

‘Oh yeah?’ Kate said. ‘All Brian’s fault, was it? Easy to say, when he’s not around to defend himself. You should show more respect for the dead, sir.’

Theresa sat down on the arm of McKenzie’s chair, slipped her hand into his. ‘Arthur paid his dues for the things he did, and that wasn’t one of them.’

He pulled away. ‘Stop defending me, Theresa. These arseholes aren’t listening.’

The room fell quiet.

Swirling his whisky round his glass, McKenzie swigged it off. This was a man under pressure, no matter the impression he was trying to portray. Kate couldn’t imagine what Theresa Allen saw
in him. Or why she still wanted to be with him after the horrendous events of the past few days. Her sons’ remains were lying in a freezer in the city morgue and Kate felt compelled to nail
the bastards that put them there. She directed her next comment to McKenzie: ‘Whether you killed a rival or not, the O’Kanes are convinced you did. Either way, you’re on a
loser.’

‘Making a run for it isn’t going to convince them of your innocence,’ Hank added. He looked at the DCI. ‘Strange how criminals never think they’ll get old, eh,
boss? Not such a hard man these days, is he?’

‘I was concerned for Theresa,’ McKenzie bit back. ‘That’s why we did off.’

The detectives exchanged a look.

Kate didn’t appreciate Hank locking horns with McKenzie when she wanted his cooperation – the most important thing to consider was the man’s welfare and that of Theresa Allen.
Getting into a punch-up wasn’t going to help.

‘What did John say when he called you Thursday night?’ she asked.

‘What are you on about?’ McKenzie showed no emotion. ‘He didn’t call me.’

‘Theresa?’

‘He didn’t call me!’

‘One or both of you is lying.’ Kate eyeballed Theresa. The hard-nosed cow didn’t flinch. The DCI smiled at her, let some time pass. ‘Do you remember a DS called
Bright?’ It was clear from her reaction that she did. ‘He’s my ex guv’nor, a cracking detective, best I’ve ever worked with – apart from this guy.’ Keeping
her eyes on Theresa, Kate thumbed in Hank’s direction. ‘Bright’s a Chief Super now and he’s been talking about you—’

‘Fondly, I hope.’

‘He tells me you were quite something when you were younger. What was it he said . . . ?’ She paused, feigning memory loss. ‘Ah, now I remember. He said, quote: extremely
attractive and not short of admirers from both sides of the law. End quote. It must’ve come in quite useful for a girl like you, being able to twist men round your little finger. Bet you
shagged one or two, to get your own way. Did Brian know what you were up to?’

Theresa smirked, showing her conceit.

McKenzie turned his head towards her.

She didn’t return his gaze.

‘Bright also said you were a pathological liar,’ Kate added.

‘I’m not lying.’ She’d lost the grin. ‘John didn’t call me. Check my phone if you want. My sons are dead. Why would I lie?’

‘Have it your own way,’ Kate said. ‘I want you both in a safe house.’

‘Do me a favour!’ McKenzie scoffed. ‘You can keep your poxy safe house – every prig in the area knows where they are! No thanks. If it’s all the same to you,
Theresa and I will take our chances here – as long as you and the comedian keep your gobs shut, of course. Think you can do that?’

Kate stood her ground, considering his words. She couldn’t force him to move or accept her protection. Silly man. ‘If you’re making your own arrangements, that’s fair
enough,’ she said. ‘Don’t forget, the O’Kanes are patient souls. They’re not on a short fuse like normal scum. You know as well as I do that’s not how they
operate. They’re happy to bide their time. From what I’ve seen so far, they prefer inflicting pain to shooting folks and getting it over quickly, but we happen to know they own firearms
so you’d best be ready for every eventuality.’

‘Don’t you think he knows that?’ Theresa glanced at McKenzie. ‘Show them, Arthur. Show them what their bastard mates did to you.’

‘That won’t be necessary,’ Kate said. ‘We have friends in high places. Shotts Prison sent me the photos.’ She made a show of wincing, then shifted her attention
from Theresa to McKenzie. ‘That must’ve been quite scary at the time. Being locked up in there with nowhere to hide. I heard you were lucky to survive. John and Terry weren’t so
fortunate. Which is why I’m concerned for your safety.’

‘My arse!’ McKenzie put his drink down on the carpet, his eyes never leaving her. ‘We’re staying put, so take your partner and piss off.’ He put his arm around
Theresa. The pressure was clearly getting to her.

Kate eased off as Towner popped into her head. ‘I urge you to reconsider,’ she said.

The hard man gave an emphatic, ‘No.’

‘That’s the wrong choice.’ Kate’s eyes settled on Theresa. ‘Want to lose the last man standing, do you?’

Silence.

‘Well, if you’re hell-bent on staying put, I insist you have an officer with you in the house at all times, preferably one who’s firearms-trained.’ Kate was thinking of
Andy Brown. He’d be perfect for the job. Surveillance was his thing, but he was also cleared to carry a gun. She intended to ask Durham force if she could borrow Price until she could
organize round-the-clock backup. She liked Price. His instincts were spot on. Besides, the dog could be useful.

‘That’s all you have, one fucking firearm?’ McKenzie let out a hollow laugh. ‘You’re really selling it to me, hen.’

Ignoring the put-down, Kate told them they were lucky to be getting any protection at all. ‘The off-duty officer who spotted you isn’t a million miles away. I’m going to ask
him to step inside so you know him when he comes to the door with your protection. OK with you?’ She pointed at the baseball bat. ‘I don’t want that thing wrapped around the wrong
person’s skull.’

Unable to sustain a show of bravado, Theresa buckled as the gravity of the situation closed in on her. She pleaded with McKenzie to accept help. At first, he refused. Then he nodded,
reluctantly.

Kate turned to Hank. ‘Get Price in here.’

It wasn’t ideal but it was better than nothing.