Ready or Not (33 page)

             
Nothing that wouldn’t see him locked away at least, she told herself.

             
‘You’ll be there the whole time, won’t you?’ she checked with Chris as they left the briefing.

             
‘Of course,’ he assured her.

             
Neil and Kate were to sit at an outdoor table, where other plain clothes officers would be posted, posing as couples enjoying a coffee al fresco. Others would be walking dogs; some would be jogging through the park. Fortunately, though cold it was a dry day and a winter sun was pushing through the clouds, trying to assert itself. Chris’ prayers for the previous evening’s threat of storms to pass had been answered.

             
Kate was to give the signal when she wanted the others to step in, by getting up from her seat and crouching down to look for something in the bag at her feet.

             
‘How did Clayton react?’ Kate asked.

             
She hadn’t spoken to him, but the subtle roll of the eyes during the briefing told her all she needed to know. He doubted her. Again, she had overstepped the mark. Yesterday’s praise at her handling of the Stacey Reed case had been quickly replaced by the same old scepticism she had come to know and accept. He doubted whether she could hold it together for long enough to get the job finished. Not wanting to face his disappointment before having to go and meet with Neil, Chris had offered to explain their plan to him first thing that morning.

             
‘Don’t worry about him,’ Chris said, glancing back over his shoulder. ‘He’ll get over it. Once we get this done it’ll be forgotten about. We nail Davies and you’ll be flavour of the month again, trust me. He may be a bit of an old Bessie, but he always backs his officers in the end. He’s not such a bad old bugger.’

             
Kate very much doubted that Clayton would forget so easily, but was grateful for the lie in this instance. She didn’t need the extra pressure of worrying whether or not her job would still be hers by the end of the day. She didn’t even need the complication of thinking about whether or not she would still want it.

             
She would worry about Superintendent Clayton, and her career, when she had made it back to the station in one piece.

             
Matthew emerged from the room where the briefing had been held and smiled encouragingly at Kate. He’d been given instruction to drive Kate to the park. His dark eyes fixed on hers for possibly the first time. ‘You OK?’

             
‘As well as can be expected. I’ll be fine.’

             
‘We’ll be going in five,’ Chris told them. ‘You need to give us forty minutes to get set up before you leave the station, then Matthew, take my car.’ He passed him the keys. ‘Drop Kate off at the park then leave the car in the new multi-storey across town. In plain clothes, Matthew,’ he reminded him.

             
Matthew nodded and took the keys.

             
Chris looked back to Kate. ‘Wired up ready?’

             
She tapped her chest. ‘Stop worrying,’ she told him. She was worrying enough for the both of them. Kate smiled in an attempt to hide her discomfort, not entirely sure of its success.

             
The words that had been left unspoken the previous evening formed in her mind. She wanted to say them out loud. If there was never going to be another opportunity for him to hear them, she wanted to make the words known now; while she was still here to speak them. If Kate knew about anything, it was the unshakable weight of regret and the sadness that came with it. If this went wrong and…

             
She bit her tongue and said nothing. She was being stupid, she told herself, biting the words back. This wasn’t the time. She’d be back in a few hours and this whole thing would be over.

             
Soon the rest of the team were assembled at the front of the building. Most were in plain clothes; one or two were still in uniform. To Kate’s eyes, even those in plain clothes seemed entirely conspicuous. She hoped they’d prove themselves to be better actors than she and prayed nobody would be careless enough to arouse Neil’s suspicions by drawing unnecessary attention to themselves or to her.

             
She went back up to Chris’ office, with Matthew stopping at the machine to get them both a cup of tea. Forty minutes usually seemed a short enough amount of time. Today, with the banal conversation provided by Matthew and the thought of the task that stretched ahead, the time dragged on for an eternity.

Forty Six

In the car Kate fastened her seatbelt and leaned her head against the rest.

              ‘Nervous?’ Matthew asked, reversing Chris’ car out of his parking space.

             
‘Nah,’ Kate said coolly. ‘All in a day’s work.’

             
Inside, her heart beat like a drum machine, loud and repetitive; its rhythm coursing through her limbs.

             
Matthew smiled. ‘Rather you than me.’

             
The insensitive sod had no tact. ‘Thanks.’

             
They left the station and pulled out onto the main road. The sky was clear blue and the clouds that had gathered earlier were now nowhere to be seen. It was, however, bitterly cold, and Kate reached for the heating dial, turning it as high as it would go. Maybe it was the temperature that chilled her; maybe it was just the thought of Neil Davies and the task that lay ahead of her.

             
Saturday morning shoppers filled the buses Matthew overtook. Mothers with buggies made their way on foot towards the town and groups of teenagers who hadn’t fancied a Saturday morning lie in sat huddled together in bus shelters; girls in leggings and bottom skimming skirts like pelmets, none of them appropriately dressed for the cold. Everything was normal, Kate thought; as normal as it was ever likely to be.

             
Matthew watched her from the corner of his eye; the same sideways, not-quite-there glance that she had become accustomed to from him. ‘What do you reckon then?’ he asked. ‘You going to get a confession?’

             
‘I wouldn’t have thought so,’ Kate admitted, facing the road ahead. ‘If Neil’s the man we suspect he is he’s not going to give anything away. He’s been playing a game all week, he’s not going to quit now he knows he’s this far ahead. We’ll have to rely on matching him to that blood found on Jamie Griffiths.’

             
Matthew said nothing for a moment before adding, ‘or the hair on Joseph Ryan.’             

             
‘Exactly.’

             
Matthew adjusted the rear view mirror slightly. ‘What if it’s not his?’

             
The thought had occurred to Kate, although she had tried not to dwell on it. What would they do then? They couldn’t hold him on circumstantial evidence; and wasting police time wouldn’t hold up for long. The fact that he had been to a strip club with Ryan on the night he’d been murdered was not going to hold much weight in a courtroom and any evidence she gave against him would be laughed out of court after her performance this week.

             
‘You must have your theories,’ Kate said, avoiding an answer. ‘Come on – you’re the young blood, full of ideas. What do you think?’

             
Matthew took a left at the junction, driving over the river bridge. A long banner promoting a local band due to play in a local club the following weekend had been pinned across the railings. Kate had heard some of their tracks on Nation Radio, but she couldn’t see what the fuss what about. It was another loud noise. Another sign she was getting older, she thought regretfully. 

             
‘I’m just the junior,’ Matthew said, with a tinge of resentment in his tone. ‘I drive people around, I fetch the coffees. I’m not paid to come up with theories.’

             
Kate tutted playfully. ‘Not the attitude, PC Curtis,’ she scoffed, trying to lighten the mood. ‘Don’t you want to hear an ‘Inspector’ before that name one day?’

             
‘Never thought about it,’ Matthew said flippantly.

             
He reached to turn the heating back down. Kate looked at him, surprised by his sudden change in tone, and noticed a shiny film of sweat across his forehead. She turned back to the window, blanking him as she thought of what might be in store for her that afternoon. Her jacket was still pulled tightly around her; it was freezing outside, despite Matthew’s apparent hot flush.

             
Matthew worked his way around the one way system and pulled onto the lane leading to the A470 and the other route back around the town.

             
‘Park’s that way,’ Kate said, gesturing back down the road. They should have continued at the roundabout, it was the quickest and easiest route to the park.

             
She turned and looked at Matthew. Before she saw his face, she saw the gun held in his right hand, pointing directly at her.

Forty Seven

‘What are you doing?’ Kate asked. Her eyes were fixed on the gun in Matthew’s hand. The perspiration on his forehead was clearly visible now; beads of sweat sparkling on his pitted skin.

             
‘I’m sorry, Kate,’ he said, without sincerity. His voice was cold, entirely different, and if he was nervous, as the sweat suggested, his tone told a different story. ‘We need to take a detour.’

             
He hit the central locking and opened his window slightly, keeping the gun pointed at her throughout. They were approaching traffic lights and the cars in front were beginning to slow as the lights changed. Matthew dropped a gear and floored the accelerator, swerving around the car in front and overtaking the queue. He made it across the junction just after the lights had turned to red and a van driver coming from the opposite direction sounded his horn angrily as Matthew missed him by inches.

             
Kate took the opportunity to reach into her coat pocket and, trying to keep her cool, fumbled for her mobile phone. Chris’ personal number was the last to have been called and she flipped the phone, keeping it in her pocket and out of sight of Matthew. She pressed three buttons and hoped that, without being able to look and check, she had brought up the right number. She pressed the call button.

             
Matthew slowed his speed slightly. ‘Phone,’ he said, nudging the gun at her. For a heart stopping moment Kate thought he may have seen what she was doing. She couldn’t be sure and quickly cut off the call, hoping she had made a connection with Chris and that it might be enough to alert him to the danger she was in. She took the phone from her pocket and placed it on the dashboard as instructed by Matthew. For a moment she considered catching him off guard and making a grab for the gun, but if it went wrong and he crashed the car they could both be killed. Anyway, it was too risky: there were too many other cars around and she’d be putting innocent lives in danger.

             
Either that or he would shoot her at point blank range. 

             
‘Don’t try anything clever,’ he said, as though reading her thoughts. The bones in his skinny hand protruded painfully through his pale skin as his grip on the gun tightened. His veins throbbed, ice blue.

             
Kate looked away and out through the window, trying to gather her thoughts and think of a way to get the gun off Matthew. For all the scenarios she had imagined in her head last night whilst lying in bed unable to sleep, she’d never thought of this one. Neil was the danger, not Matthew. Kate hadn’t accounted for being threatened in this way and though she’d considered an escape from a hundred possible situations with Neil Davies, she had no idea how she was going to get out of this one.

             
They headed quickly away from the town centre and towards the A470, diverting into a small housing estate and up a quiet narrow lane behind a row of garages.

             
Matthew slammed on the brakes and the car stopped suddenly.

             
‘Hands,’ he instructed hurriedly.

             
Kate looked at the gun pointing directly up at her chest and cursed herself for her slow reactions. She had spent those vital moments planning what to do when she should have just done something, anything to divert his attention. All the training she had undergone – all the advice imparted to her specifically for the rare off-chance of situations like this – had been wasted. It was pointless, she thought, because no one ever really believed they would ever need it. No one ever believed that this sort of thing would really happen to them.