Murder Ring (A DI Geraldine Steel Mystery) (17 page)

‘Nice shirt,’ Theo repeated, ‘bloody nice shirt.’

He put his head on one side as though he was thinking, then ran from the room to reappear a moment later holding out his anorak. Jack shook his head. Theo always knew when his brother was going out.

‘You’re like a bleeding dog. Well, I ain’t taking you for no walk, not tonight I ain’t. I’m off to see my girl and there ain’t no room for you. Now bugger off out my room.’

Theo watched intently as Jack finished preening himself, then scurried out of the room after him. While Jack was locking his door and pocketing the key, Theo struggled to put on his jacket. His face screwed up in concentration, he succeeded in thrusting both his arms into his sleeves.

‘Come on, come on,’ he sang, followed by some tuneless gibberish about Jack.

‘You ain’t coming along with me,’ Jack said, ‘and that’s that.’

‘That that that that that.’

‘Shut it, you bleeding parrot.’

Whistling softly, he walked to the front door, Theo still at his side.

‘You ain’t coming with me, bro.’

He placed a hand flat on Theo’s chest and gently pushed him away. Theo stood firm, grinning. Angered, Jack shoved him roughly until he began to whimper.

‘Jesus, I said you’re like a dog, don’t mean you got to make a noise like a bleeding dog. Just shut it, will you? I can’t take you out because I’m going to see my girl. Now get away from me, I’m going out. And no following me this time. Oh bloody hell. Leave it out, will you? Ma! Ma!’

Rosa appeared in the doorway of her bedroom, her eyes frowsy with sleep.

‘What you want now?’ she moaned. ‘I’m trying to have a rest. Can’t you watch him for a bit? You’re never here and I can’t shut my eyes for a minute without him running off.’

‘Get him away from the door, will you? He ain’t coming out with me.’

‘Where you off to now?’

‘Going to see a friend.’

Rosa called to Theo that it was time for supper but he didn’t budge.

‘I said get over here. Look what I got for you!’

She shuffled over to the squashy football lying on the floor in the middle of the room and picked it up. ‘Here.’ She offered it to Theo who didn’t move. She dropped it on the carpet.

‘Bloody hell, it’s lost all its bounce,’ she complained. ‘And he plays so nice with it. Keeps him busy for hours, only now it’s all out of air.’

‘I said I’d get him a new one, and I ain’t forgot about it,’ Jack replied. ‘But only if he plays with it. You want a new ball, Theo? You go play with that one then. Let’s see how nice you play.’

Theo glanced indecisively from Jack to the ball and back again.

‘Come on, then, come and get it,’ Rosa coaxed him.

As Theo stepped towards her, Jack was out of the door, double locking it from outside so his brother couldn’t follow him. Jack was off to see Sophia, and he was in a good mood. He wouldn’t stand for competition. She was his girl, and that was the end of it. He knew it, and soon she was going to know it too. Whatever she thought, she wasn’t up for grabs. He leapt into his car and sped out of the side street, heading for her flat. Everything was going to be fine, just as long as she was his girl. That was all that mattered. She felt the same way about him. She just didn’t know it yet.

31

G
ERALDINE RECALLED AS
many cases as she could where suspects had held out for hours or even weeks before confessing their guilt. It wasn’t unusual. Insisting on their innocence was, understandably, the first defence of the guilty. She hoped that would prove to be true for Lenny. Rigorously, she followed the procedures, aware of Sam fuming impatiently at her side, while the plump lawyer sat silently watching her, his eyes half-closed. If he hadn’t interjected from time to time with a laconic reminder that his client had already answered her question, she would have suspected he wasn’t following the interview at all. When they took a break, she wasn’t surprised that Sam was irritated.

‘That wretch is lying through his teeth. We know he was there. He admits as much. Why can’t he just come clean and save us all a whole load of bother. Yes, I was there, yes, I already told you I robbed the guy, and yes, obviously I shot him. That’s all he has to say. Why drag it out like this? He’ll never get off.’

Not for the first time, Geraldine wondered if Sam was in the right career. Gutsy, dogged, and highly intelligent, in some ways she was ideally suited to the job, but she was also impulsive and far too ready to jump to conclusions.

‘Like it or not, the burden of proof is on us,’ she said, ‘and right now we can’t prove Lenny shot the victim. Being in the same place as the murder doesn’t mean he pulled the trigger.’

They had been over the same ground repeatedly. As Sam launched into another rant, Geraldine’s phone vibrated. It wasn’t a work call. If the phone had buzzed while they were in the interview room she would have ignored it. As it was, she glanced at the screen. A caller on an unknown number had left a message. She hesitated, but it was time to go back and have another session with Lenny.

‘Come on then,’ she said, putting her phone away.

‘Let’s hope he stops whingeing and starts telling it how it is,’ Sam answered, as she followed Geraldine back into the interview room.

After they had finished with Lenny for the day, Geraldine discussed the stalemate with Adam. He agreed to sanction a thorough search of the flat where Lenny lived with Gina and of his mother’s home and the car repair yard where he had been hiding. If they found his gun, with his prints on it, the case against him would be watertight. After a quick supper, Geraldine drove to Acton to see how the search was going there. She had a feeling Lenny’s mother knew more than she was letting on. Her flat was so crammed with bric-a-brac it would be the perfect place to hide something relatively small like a gun or a ring. Coming across the ring wasn’t quite so important, since Lenny had admitted he had stolen one from David. Finding the gun would wrap the case up.

Geraldine could hear a woman screeching as soon as she stepped out of her car. Cynthia was standing by the front door, red-faced with the effort of shouting, thick veins bulging in her neck.

‘Bloody hell, she’s going to burst a blood vessel if she goes on like that,’ a constable muttered to Geraldine. ‘She’s giving me a ruddy headache. Can’t you shut her up?’

‘Get on with your job and stop moaning,’ Geraldine chided him with a grin. ‘Found anything yet?’

‘Plenty of dodgy gear, but not what we’re looking for.’

‘Don’t you bloody tell me any of my stuff’s dodgy,’ Cynthia burst out. ‘It’s all been paid for, fair and square. I could do you for all them lies you been saying, ever since you got here. I ain’t no fucking thief!’

‘Not a thief, just a fence,’ someone answered cheerfully.

‘Don’t you start on again about my boy,’ Cynthia retorted. ‘He’s as honest as the day’s long. I know he was framed last time he was sent down, and I know it was you lot what done that to him. I’m getting a lawyer on to you and you’ll all go down. Nothing worse than a bent cop. You just wait. All your pictures in the papers, see how you like it.’

‘We won’t hold our breath, love.’

‘Wish she’d hold hers,’ another constable called out.

Geraldine eyed up the stout woman shouting obscenities, before interrupting her invective. ‘If you don’t keep quiet, I’ll have you for obstructing the police in the course of their duties.’

Cynthia turned and glared at her. ‘Or what?’

‘I don’t think you heard what I said. If you don’t shut up and let my team get on with the job, you’ll find yourself nicked for obstruction.’

‘You like locking up innocent members of the public, don’t you, you self-important cow. Think you’re clever, don’t you?’

Seemingly delighted to have found a target, Cynthia latched on to Geraldine with a new string of obscenities.

‘This is your last warning,’ Geraldine said when the other woman paused for breath. ‘One more word out of you and I’ll have you removed from the property.’

Cynthia grumbled, but quietly this time and Geraldine left soon after. The team had found nothing yet. They would continue all night if necessary, searching outside in the morning. Geraldine was in bed setting the alarm on her phone when she noticed the voicemail that had been left earlier on her private phone. Not recognising the number she listened to the message, expecting it to be a wrong number. The caller introduced herself as Louise who had taken over from Sandra, the social worker who had been in charge of Geraldine’s adoption file. Her next words shivered through Geraldine like an electric shock.

‘We need to talk about your mother.’

32

T
HAT NIGHT,
G
ERALDINE
lay awake for hours. She tried to focus her thoughts on the case, but it was impossible. Over the years she had learned to accept that it was best to try not to think about her birth mother. Gradually, her raging curiosity had faded until she had become resigned to the fact that she was never going to meet her mother. With the social worker’s call, her visceral longing returned, sweeping all her mature deliberations aside in an instant. It was possible her mother was finally willing to meet the daughter she had abandoned all those years ago. Milly had been a teenager when she had given birth to Geraldine. She would be middle-aged now. Circumstances impossible to deal with at sixteen might seem very different with the benefit of maturity. There could be any number of reasons why she might want to meet her daughter after so long.

It was equally possible the social worker had called Geraldine to inform her of her mother’s death. That would be hard to bear. Even though Geraldine would be no worse off than she had been with a stranger who steadfastly refused to meet her, she would have lost the hope of ever being reconciled with her birth mother. Not knowing the reason for the social worker’s call was agonising. A few hours made no real difference after so many years but, after hearing the message, having to wait a whole night felt unbearable. She wished she had answered her phone when Louise had rung, or at least had listened to the message during working hours, so that she could have returned the call straight away.

After sleeping fitfully, she was up early so she went straight to work, arriving before the traffic built up. It was too early to speak to the social worker but she returned her call anyway, and left a message. ‘Please call me as soon as you get this.’ Almost in tears, she could hear her own voice shaking. There was nothing more she could do. She turned to her screen and realised that Neil had walked past without her noticing. He was sitting at his desk, watching her curiously.

‘Is everything all right?’ he asked.

‘Yes, thanks. It was nothing to do with work.’

‘I don’t know if that’s a good thing or not. Oh sorry,’ he added when Geraldine didn’t respond, ‘you’re telling me to mind my own business.’

‘That’s OK,’ she muttered, keeping her eyes on her screen. ‘Now if you don’t mind, I need to crack on.’

‘Of course.’

Geraldine knew her colleague was only being friendly. It was her own fault that he had overheard her pleading for a quick response. She wondered what he must think of her, and resolved to guard against such unprofessional conduct in future while she was at work. It must have sounded as though she had rowed with a boyfriend. Stifling a sigh, she tried her best to focus on her work. It didn’t help that she had to work her way through a list of tedious expenses claims.

Halfway through the morning, her phone rang. Her heart beat wildly, but it was only a call from the mortuary to say the pathologist wanted to see her.

‘Why me?’ she asked, although she knew Adam was away all day at a meeting. ‘Can’t he just speak to me on the phone?’

‘He said you’d ask that,’ the anatomical pathology technician replied. ‘He was very insistent that he wants you to come here. He said he has something that you’re going to find very interesting.’

‘Is it about David Lester?’

‘It’s a different body this time.’

‘Then it isn’t my case.’

‘He said he wants you to come in person, if possible. That’s all I know.’

The technician was beginning to sound impatient.

‘Oh all right. I’m on my way. But I don’t see what all the mystery is about.’

In spite of her irritation at the interruption, Geraldine was curious. If Miles wanted her to go to the mortuary that meant something was amiss. He liked to play guessing games, but he would never ask her to go and see him unless it was important. Normally, she would have been pleased that some development had come up while Adam was unavailable. Only today she did not want to be tied up at work. She tried Louise’s number one more time before setting off, but the line went straight to voicemail. Checking her mobile wasn’t on silent, she slipped it in her pocket so she would hear if it rang. In the car, she put the phone on the passenger seat to make sure she couldn’t miss a call, and set off.

‘This had better be worth dragging me all the way over here for,’ she grumbled to the young anatomical pathology technician who opened the door for her.

‘Don’t blame me,’ Jasmine smiled, ‘I just passed on the message. Miles is the one who insisted on getting you over here. How are you?’