Killing for Keeps (18 page)

‘I
wasn’t chasing him, guv. I swear. I wasn’t intending to arrest him. He ran away because he was stupid. He called me that afternoon. I had reason to believe
that he had vital information in relation to a triple murder. He blurted out his location and hung up. What else could I have done? He’s given me stuff before. Remember the Jackson case?
His
intel . . . the botched jewellery heist in 2008 when the owner was shot?
His
intel.’

Her former guv’nor’s expression hadn’t softened any.

Kate couldn’t maintain eye contact. A lump as big as Texas formed in her throat. Her precious career was as good as over. Resigned to take the consequences of her actions, she waited. She
thought about apologizing and decided she’d be wasting her breath. Tears stung the back of her eyes. She was only just holding on. Then suddenly she lost her composure. She hadn’t been
herself since Towner died. She’d been horrible to Hank, to Jo. Bright was the only thing standing between her position and a first-class ticket to the office of Professional Standards –
or the dole queue.

‘I realize there’ll be an enquiry,’ she said.

‘Who said anything about an enquiry?’ Bright looked almost as upset as she felt. ‘It never happened. Neither did this conversation.’

She tried to thank him but couldn’t speak. She wanted to yell at him and hug him at the same time. He was offering forgiveness that in her heart she didn’t feel she deserved. She had
great people round her and yet she pushed them away, time and again, when they reached out to give her a hand.

She was an emotional wreck.

The week’s events kept flashing through her head: John Allen wrapped round the wheels of a Mercedes van, his brother’s severed fingers, Bethany’s head caved in. The thumping
sound as the car hit Towner, his hand in hers as he slipped away, Jo’s angry face, Gillian Garvey’s smirk, the look of disapproval on Bright’s face right now. His mouth was moving
but she hadn’t heard a word.

‘Are you even listening to me?’ He sat forward, placed his elbows on his desk and linked his hands together to support his chin. For a moment he said nothing, showed no emotion
whatsoever, then his eyes took in a photograph of his late wife before coming to rest on Kate. ‘Remember the night I made an arse of myself?’

He was referring to
that
night. It was before Stella died. She was horribly disabled but he was suffering too, struggling to cope with the demands of his job while caring for her at
home. Late one night, the consequences of his refusal to allow her to end her days in hospital hit him like a brick when she asked him to put a stop to her pain permanently. At his request, Kate
had gone round to help him over that traumatic event. In a moment of weakness, he’d asked her to spend the night with him.

Of course she remembered – how could she forget?

‘Is there a point to this, guv?’

They had agreed never to mention it again, another thing that never happened. Relieved that she’d keep her rank for a while longer, Kate’s detective mind was already focusing on the
O’Kane sighting in Glasgow.

She checked her watch. ‘Hank’s waiting, may I go?’

Bright’s jaw clenched. ‘You’re a piece of work sometimes, you know that? I bet Townsend was terrified of you.’ He paused. In all the years they had worked together they
had always had a love/hate relationship. Right at this moment, it was oscillating between the two. Leaning back in his chair, he crossed his arms over his chest and let out a long sigh. ‘My
point
is one you’ll take on board, if you have any sense. I was in a bad place then, Kate. You helped me out and I’d like to return the favour. With the benefit of hindsight, I
can see that it was the lowest point in my life. I think this is yours—’

‘With all due respect, that’s bollocks, guv. I’m busy, that’s all.’

‘Sit down!’

She did as she was told – for once.

He cleared his throat. ‘You don’t make it easy for people. You’re the very best detective I know, but I could do without the aggro. I’m warning you. This is the very last
chance you get. Do I make myself clear?’

‘Yes, guv.’

‘When this case is over, take some leave. Whether you’re willing to accept it or not, you’ve hit rock bottom. To be perfectly honest, I think you’re unfit for duty. That
opinion will stay in this office while I decide what to do with you. Anyone else would be off the case and handing in their warrant card. Now, get the hell out of my sight.’

Of all the things he could’ve said to her, ‘unfit for duty’ was the most hurtful. From the look on his face, he knew it too. Without another word, Kate walked out, closing the
door quietly behind her. As she passed his office window, she was weeping.

H
ank binned his cigarette when he saw her leave the building. Even at fifty metres away he could tell by her gait and the way her head was down that her meeting with Bright had
been a difficult one. She was ashen when she arrived at the car. Not knowing how to handle the situation, he didn’t say much, just held out his hand.

‘Gimme your keys,’ he said. ‘I’m driving.’

‘Thanks.’ It was almost a whisper. ‘Get me out of here.’

Without argument, she handed her keys over and climbed into the passenger seat. Unheard of. Driving was one of the pleasures of her life. She was never happier than behind the wheel, except
maybe on her motorcycle. Placing her mobile on the dash, she strapped herself in. Hank reversed out of their parking place, glancing at her as he used his wing mirror.

She’d filled up, was fighting to maintain self-control. This was worrying. He’d seen her upset before – frequently angry – but never like this. Their eyes met briefly and
she looked away, telling him she’d explain on the way. Enlightenment wasn’t forthcoming. For miles and miles she sat motionless, staring through the windscreen at the road ahead, deep
in her own thoughts, until he felt compelled to break the ice.

‘What’s the tale with Garvey?’ he asked.

Preoccupied with what had occurred in Bright’s office she seemed confused by the question.

‘Gillian,’ he pushed. ‘What was all that garbage in the press conference?’

‘Nothing important,’ Kate said. ‘She got a message on her bloody phone, same time as I did. She’s got her hooks into someone in Strathclyde force. Wonder what it cost her
to receive that timely tip-off?’

‘She was right though.’ Hank used his indicator, accelerated to overtake a tractor and then pulled in.

‘About what?’

‘She was only doing her job.’

‘Yeah, well there are ways and ways. Shafting other people isn’t one of them, even if she is a fucking journo.’

‘Kate, calm down.’

She went quiet for a while and then swivelled in her seat to face him. When he looked at her she was visibly upset. ‘I dropped myself right in the shit, Hank. The guv’nor knows about
Whitby.’

‘What? Tell me you’re joking!’ He took in the shake of her head. ‘You never admitted it?’

‘I lost it, Hank. I’m sorry.’

Oh fantastic.
That was both their jobs down the pan. She should’ve kept her mouth shut.

What was she thinking?

Seeing the anxiety on his face, Kate told him not to worry. Bright wasn’t going to shop them or do anything about it. He’d said as much. Her reassurance wasn’t working, so she
decided to elaborate. ‘The conversation didn’t happen,’ she said. ‘I’m on a final.’

Hank was incredulous. ‘So why the tears?’

She rubbed at her brow, unable to answer.

‘Kate, don’t do this. You’re worrying me.’

‘He said I was unfit for duty.’

Taking his left hand off the steering wheel, Hank patted her arm. He didn’t entirely disagree. She was like a ticking bomb. It wouldn’t take much to tip her over the edge. As her
number two, he saw it as part of his job description to protect her from herself. He’d known exactly how she’d react from the moment the car bumper smashed into Towner’s legs and
threw him up in the air on his final journey, even though she’d not actually seen the gruesome spectacle. By the time she had turned round, it was all over. The aftermath wasn’t pretty.
The reason she was blaming herself was because she cared deeply about people. All people. She was a good person. More compassionate than anyone he knew – hard on the outside, soft as shite on
the in. Right now, she needed rest. He could do with some himself.

‘Ever want to keep driving and never look back?’ she asked.

‘Sometimes,’ he admitted.

She sighed loudly, the weight of the world on her shoulders.

‘Why don’t you call Jo?’ he suggested.

‘Yeah right, like she’ll want to speak to me.’

‘She’s the one person who would,’ Hank said. ‘Apart from me, I mean.’

‘Later maybe.’

Her phone rang. Hank half-expected Jo’s number to show up on the car’s display. Wincing as he saw that it was Bright, he glanced at Kate, a question in his eyes:
You wanna answer
that?
There was a split-second’s hesitation, a deep breath in, then a nod.

Hank pushed a button on the steering wheel to take the call.

Kate made a huge effort to sound upbeat.

‘What’s up, guv?’

‘Are you two OK?’ Bright asked.

‘We’re fine. Making good progress. There’s nowt on the roads, to be honest.’

‘Good, I want you here with some positive information, soon as you can. Let’s put this one to bed, Kate. Then you can take that time off we discussed.’

Hank stiffened. She hadn’t mentioned that. Their former guv’nor wasn’t a man to mince his words. He’d obviously kicked her in the solar plexus and it would take a while
to recover from that. Hank had been there himself, more times than he cared to remember, mostly, though not exclusively, with the same man on the other end of the dressing-down – Bright could
be a twat sometimes. Satisfied that Kate was fine, the Detective Chief Superintendent levelled his parting shot at him.

‘You owe me one, Hank,’ he said. ‘And I intend to collect.’

The dialling tone filled the car.

Hank said nothing. Although Bright was a demanding boss – not to mention a bully on occasions – he was fiercely protective of those he cared about. Hank thanked his lucky stars that
it was him and not someone else who’d discovered their fateful trip south. The silence in the car was deafening. He imagined the monologue running through Kate’s head: the what-ifs, the
snippets of conversation between the two of them as they fled Whitby, her row with the head of CID. The guilt Hank knew she was still feeling. That self-examination nonsense he could never
understand. It was over – end of. What was to analyse?

A few more silent miles went by before she uttered another word.

‘Have you spoken to Andy?’ she asked. ‘I forgot.’

Hank nodded. ‘There’s nothing to do and nothing for you to worry about. He’s got it covered in Blanchland. He’ll let Theresa and McKenzie know about the sighting up
north. That’ll take the pressure off them and he’ll remain in situ until stood down.’

‘He could be there a while.’

‘Get your head down, Kate. We’ve got a long drive ahead of us. Have a moment’s peace for once. I’ll give you a nudge in a bit.’

K
ate woke to the sound of a ringing phone. She’d been in a deep sleep and it took a few moments to drag herself awake, to figure out where she was, to remember what had
gone on before she collapsed from sheer exhaustion. She glanced at her watch: five forty-five. They had made good time, were already passing a sign for Hamilton.

Not far to go.

Hank answered the phone.

A DC from Strathclyde came on the line, introduced himself by the name of Anderson. ‘Bad news, I’m afraid. There’s no sign of Finn O’Kane. We’ve tried interviewing
possible witnesses, but if you knew the pub he was seen entering, you’d know there was never any fear of the punters saying a word to a polis.’

‘You are still keeping obs on his house?’ Hank asked.

‘Houses,’ Anderson corrected him. ‘Finn O’Kane has more homes than Persimmon, spread over a wide area, as well as several other premises in which he and his brother can
hide, all posing as legit businesses, some they admit to, some not. No joy there either, I’m afraid. We’ve put feelers out. My guv’nor thinks they fled your patch because they
were about to be plastered all over the box on the six o’clock news.’

Hank couldn’t help himself. Kate wasn’t the only one angered by clever-arsed journalists and bent coppers. ‘And how could they possibly know that?’ he said. ‘Unless
someone your end told them – maybe the same person who likes talking to the press? One of your lot is on the take, pal.’

‘That’s quite an allegation to be making when you’re asking for our help.’

‘And I’ll be pleased to repeat it to Complaints if it happens again,’ Hank said. ‘Do we understand each other?’

The detective sidestepped the question. ‘Chances are, if Finn O’Kane is here, Craig won’t be far behind. They’re as thick as thieves, those two – no pun intended.
Tell your boss we’ll do our best to locate them for you.’

Kate studied the scenery, hoping Anderson would live up to that promise.

R
ush hour was well underway when they left the motorway and pulled into the car park of the Marriott Hotel, Argyle Street. Taking the overnight bag she always kept packed in
the boot of her car, Kate led the way into reception. After booking in, they went upstairs, peeling off in different directions to find their rooms, with an agreement to meet downstairs five
minutes later.

The view from the sixth floor was grim: a grey and miserable cityscape that matched Kate’s mood, a spaghetti junction of main roads chock-a-block with commuters, the Hilton Hotel directly
opposite, half-empty car parks as people left their jobs for the weekend.

Lucky them.

Dumping her bag on the bed, she glanced around.

The room was fine, nipping clean with crisp white linen and bright flowery prints on the walls, an attempt to add some cheer to the time she’d be spending there. Hopefully it
wouldn’t be long. In the bathroom, she washed her face and changed her shirt, repaired her make-up to give herself some colour and went in search of Hank. She found him at the desk, asking
the duty receptionist if she could tell him how to get to the city centre police station.

‘Of course, sir.’ The girl pulled a map towards her. ‘It’s on Pitt Street, left out of the hotel here.’ She was drawing the route in red pen. ‘Left at the
first set of lights into Douglas Street, left again and turn right here.’ She marked the destination with a cross.

‘Is it far?’ he asked.

She was shaking her head. ‘Five minutes, tops.’

They decided to walk. They needed the air.

D
etectives from Strathclyde CID were scratching their heads when they got there. DCI Matthew Trewitt had laid on tea, coffee and a mini-briefing in the station conference room
for 7 p.m. His officers had scoured Finn O’Kane’s known haunts and come up with zilch. Not a sighting. Not a whisper of any kind. Of him or his brother. It was clear from the subsequent
chat that they were no further forward than Kate and Hank had been before they drove north.

It didn’t take the Northumbria detectives long to realize that Finn and Craig O’Kane were a cut above John and Terry Allen in terms of criminality. Over the years, the pair had made
a great deal of money out of their illegal enterprises, and acquired a reputation for ruthlessness in protecting their interests.

‘Especially when it comes to taking out the competition,’ Trewitt said.

‘This isn’t a turf war, Matthew.’ As far as she was able, Kate explained the background to the double, possibly triple, murder case she was investigating, the motive being
revenge for Dougie O’Kane’s demise years earlier. ‘We suspect their target is Arthur Ross McKenzie. An associate of theirs, Wallace Whittaker, made an attempt on McKenzie’s
life in 2008, while he was an inmate in Shotts Prison.’

‘That sounds like Wally. He’s a total scumbag.’

‘Whittaker was charged with attempted murder, subsequently reduced to GBH,’ Kate said. ‘He got six years consecutive to the eight he was already serving. Should keep him out of
our hair for a while.’

‘D’you know where McKenzie is now?’ Trewitt asked.

‘Haven’t a clue.’ She wasn’t falling for that one. Trewitt seemed nice enough, and he was a policeman. Didn’t mean she could trust him. No point in offering
McKenzie close protection and then telling the world where he was.

‘It wouldn’t take a genius to work out his release date and track him down,’ Trewitt said. ‘The O’Kanes have the means and the muscle to secure information they
shouldn’t be party to, if you get my drift. They’re fond of flashing the cash.’

‘Bit like journalists,’ Hank said.

His sarcasm went down like a lead balloon. He’d never make a diplomat. Daniels shot him a look, half-expecting her Scottish counterpart to chew his head off for making allegations he
couldn’t prove. She needed Strathclyde detectives onside. This was no time to argue the toss over what had or hadn’t gone down earlier in the day with Gillian Garvey.

Fortunately, Trewitt let it go.

‘What’s their mental state?’ Kate asked.

Trewitt gave a non-committal shrug. He wasn’t a shrink, he told them, and then proceeded to offer a diagnosis: ‘Psychopaths, both of them, the type you don’t want to meet on a
dark night, or any other time, frankly.’ He leaned back in his chair and clasped his hands behind his head. ‘Think I’m in the wrong job, Kate. They drive great cars, pull stunning
birds and live in wealthy areas; Finn outside the city, his brother in a smart villa in Barnton.’

Kate was impressed. Barnton was an affluent area, north-west of Edinburgh. She’d been there once or twice with a friend whose parents owned a house there. Properties were pricey. She
certainly couldn’t afford one.

‘What’s security like at Finn’s place?’ she asked.

‘The best money can buy. Doors and windows like a Bank of Scotland safe.’

‘Guns?’

‘Oh yes! By the way, if you’re thinking of storming the place, you’ve got a job on your hands. Even if you get beyond the perimeter fence – and you’ll need a tank
to do so – there’ll be a couple of hungry Rottweilers waiting on the other side to rip your throat out.’

Kate shivered. ‘First thing in the morning, can one of your guys show us where it is?’

‘I’ll do it myself. It’ll get me out from behind my desk.’

‘Thanks. Can you fill Hank in on how you go about applying for a double-U round here? Sounds like we’re going to need one.’

‘No problem. Anything else?’

‘I’m going to need some bodies – live ones, I mean. Who can you spare?’

‘One of my old DCs has made a career out of chasing the villains you’re after. You’re welcome to him.’

‘He hasn’t caught them yet,’ Kate said drily. ‘Doesn’t sound like my type, to be honest.’

Tickled by the dig, Hank grinned.

‘He’s a good bloke,’ Trewitt insisted, humourless eyes on Hank. ‘And really clued up on the O’Kane family. He’s had more complaints than Scottish Gas because
of his efforts to get those two sods convicted. He’s a little obsessive, I grant you. I think you’ll be impressed when you see the dossier he has on them.’

‘We’ll take your word for it,’ Hank said.

‘What’s his name?’ Kate asked, trying to deflect the other two from an all-out fight.

‘Randy,’ Trewitt said. ‘DC Randolph, if you’re feeling overly formal. How about I throw a couple of uniforms in too. That do you?’

‘We’re taking major players out, Matthew.’ Kate’s expression said it wasn’t enough.

‘Better ring your guv’nor then.’ Trewitt picked up the landline, proffered the receiver. ‘You wouldn’t want to meet mine after the discussion we had when I told him
you were coming. If you need extra manpower, your force will have to pay for the privilege.’

H
aving arranged a 5.30 a.m. start they called it a day with the agreement that Strathclyde officers would keep up the search through the night. Kate and Hank got to the hotel
at five to nine. As she wandered into the lounge bar, he went off to buy a new toothbrush and a disposable razor in the hotel shop. He hadn’t brought one along – hadn’t brought
anything along. A new pair of shreddies was on his priority list he informed her as he walked away.

Kate chuckled, then grimaced
. Too much information.

Hank caught the shop before it closed and joined her a few minutes later, a pink toothbrush sticking out of his breast pocket. Taking off his jacket, he loosened his tie and sat down, stifling a
yawn. It had been a bloody long day and he was done in. They both were.

‘You want a drink?’ he asked.

‘Already on order,’ she said. ‘I got you a beer.’

‘Great. Menus too? I’m bloody starving.’

Nodding, she held up her phone. ‘I spoke to Bright.’

‘Oh yeah, how is the grumpy bastard?’

‘Still simmering.’

It was strange to hear Hank disrespect the man who’d handpicked them both and paired them to work together all those years ago. Notwithstanding her promotion to Detective Chief Inspector,
it had been the very best day of her professional life. She had a lot of respect for Bright, and Hank was like the brother she never had. He and Kate had grown closer and closer in the past few
years and she simply couldn’t do without him.

‘I’ve given him an update,’ she said. ‘Told him to get his chequebook out.’

‘Bet he didn’t like that.’

‘He was fine with it.’

‘He’s trying to get back in your good books.’

When the drinks came, they ordered food. It didn’t take long to arrive. They discussed strategy while eating. The plan was to meet with Trewitt and DC Randolph at the station early and
then stake out Finn O’Kane’s main residence. Only then could they decide what further action to take, what extra manpower and resources they required to mount an operation. There was
much to do.

Kate drew her eyes away from her meal. ‘Depending how it goes tomorrow morning, I’m going to leave you here to organize the warrant while I jump on the train to Edinburgh.’

‘To do what?’ Hank yawned again, blinking his eyes to keep them from closing.

‘I called the duty DCI and told her I’d be over. She’ll get the same spiel I gave Trewitt. It merits the personal touch. A request for assistance from Lothian and Borders will
be better coming from me.’ No offence was meant and none was taken.

‘Fair enough,’ Hank said. ‘Sure you’re not swanning off to Harvey Nicks to get a peace offering for Jo?’

Kate managed a smile. ‘Another time, maybe.’

‘You don’t trust me, is that it?’

‘Not as far as I can throw you.’ She winked at him. She could feel herself relaxing now she’d spoken to Bright in private. He hadn’t mentioned their row on the phone. And
when she’d asked for financial resources to be made available, he acquiesced without a fight. Kate outlined her plan. ‘I know some of the Murder Investigation Team in Edinburgh. I
thought maybe they would pull a few strings. In the meantime, you can liaise with Trewitt and gather the necessary resources for an assault on Finn’s place while I’m gone. He likes you,
I can tell.’ She made a crazy face. ‘Soon as I return, we’re going in, so be ready. I’m going to collar those evil toerags if it’s the last thing I do.’

Hank raised his glass. ‘Welcome back, boss.’

They clinked glasses.