"It's all right," Lynn said. "I've told you before. You can give your evidence from behind a screen, or not even that. A video link. You don't have to be in the courtroom at all. He won't see you. You don't have to see him. Nobody need know who you are. It will all be fine."
Lynn was doing the ironing on Monday morning when the CPS phoned, Rachel Vine's voice instantly identifiable. "I thought you ought to know. The Zoukas case, we're applying for an adjournment."
"What on earth for?"
"You haven't heard? One of your witnesses has gone AWOL."
"Andreea?"
"No, the other one. Pearce. No one's seen hide nor hair of him for two days."
The Crown Prosecution Service offices were on King Edward Street, close to the city centre; the old Palais, remodelled and renamed, was at one end, a bingo hall and mosque at the other.
Rachel Vine was taller than Lynn, with dark hair and a figure that suggested working out in the gym three nights out of five. Either that or the pool. She was bright and smart, with a reputation for staying focussed under pressure and an attitude that could, on occasion, get in the faces of friend and foe alike. When the current Chief Prosecutor moved on, she was tapped for the position.
She shook Lynn's hand and asked again how she was recovering from her injury. "I promise not to make you laugh," she said. "Don't want to set those ribs off again."
Lynn didn't think she'd be laughing.
She'd already called the DS who'd been her number two on the Zoukas investigation and given him a bollocking for not keeping her in the loop over Pearce's disappearance. So far, she'd learned, Pearce had been traced to a sister in Mansfield, where he'd stayed a night before moving on. The sister didn't know where to.
"It's unfortunate," Rachel Vine said. "Losing Pearce so close to the trial. Quite apart from him being one of our only two witnesses who can place Zoukas in the room with Nina Simic just before she died, his disappearance now only makes the defence case-that he was the one who killed Nina-look all the stronger."
"Someone got to him, is that what you think?"
"I really don't know. It's possible. The Care Officer said he'd been getting more and more jumpy as the trial date got closer, but, in a case like this, that's only normal. All we can hope is that it's just a bout of bad nerves and he'll calm down, come to his senses. Or that we'll find him. Presumably, every effort's being made to trace him?"
"So I believe."
"Well, I don't feel we can go ahead without him."
"But surely, with Andreea-"
"Andreea's evidence on its own isn't enough. And I worry she's going to get pulled to pieces on the stand. She comes apart, and what's left? No, we go into court like that, and I think there's a real danger of Zoukas getting acquitted."
Lynn looked away: she didn't like what she was hearing, but couldn't think of any counterarguments that were strong enough.
"I've talked it over with the Chief," Rachel Vine said, "and she's in agreement. I shall be requesting an adjournment first thing tomorrow. I imagine, in exchange for complying, the defence will do their utmost to get Zoukas released on bail."
"Leaving him free to intimidate witnesses or skip the country altogether."
"Don't worry," Rachel Vine said. "That's not going to happen." She reached out and touched Lynn's arm. "I know what this case means to you. I'm not about to let it slip away."
By early afternoon of the following day, it was all agreed: passed through with surprising speed.
Rachel Vine herself had phoned Lynn with the news.
"There's one thing we had to swallow," she said. "We've had to agree not to oppose bail."
"You're kidding!"
"No. Without it, the defence would never have agreed to an adjournment of more than a few days, five at most. The chances of Pearce being found in that time are too slim."
"I don't believe it," Lynn said, as much to herself as Rachel Vine.
"Look, we've gained a month, that's the most important thing, and as far as Zoukas is concerned, we'll be arguing for a surety of around fifty K. Passport surrendered and a residency order imposed, plus he'll have to report to the local police once a week, if not every day. Watertight as can be."
"I still don't like it," Lynn protested.
"Well, live with it like the rest of us."
"Yes, right. What was it you said? Something about not letting it slip away?"
There was a pause at the other end of the line. "Look," Rachel Vine said hesitantly, "I probably shouldn't be telling you this, but we were requested not to oppose bail."
"By whom?"
"The DPP."
"But for Christ's sake-"
"Lynn, Lynn, listen, I can't say any more. If you want to push her for more details, I suggest you go and see your ACC."
When Lynn tried to push her further, the line went dead.
After some finagling and not a little persuasion, she talked her way into an appointment with the Assistant Chief Constable (Crime) in his office at Sherwood Lodge at the end of the day, still unclear in her mind where the pressure behind the DPP's request had come from.
She got her answer when, having been kept waiting a good twenty minutes, she was ushered into the ACC's office and there was Stuart Daines from the Serious and Organised Crime Agency, smiling as he stepped towards her and offered his hand.
"Lynn, good to see you again." The smile broadened. "You wouldn't come and join us, so I thought we'd come and join you."
Twelve
"The arrogant, self-centred bastard, standing there with that smug smile stuck on his face, as if he'd just sold me several thousand pounds' worth of double bloody glazing."
Lynn had gone straight from Sherwood Lodge to Resnick's office, interrupting a late meeting, Khan and Michaelson taking the temperature quickly and leaving.
"I thought you quite fancied him," Resnick said lightly.
"It's no bloody joke, Charlie."
"I know."
"Zoukas out on the streets, no matter what sort of conditions, it sticks in my throat."
"There must have been a reason, some kind of explanation?"
"Explanation?" She dropped her voice an octave in imitation. "'Viktor Zoukas is a small but integral part of an ongoing major investigation, and it is important for the progress of that investigation that he remains free at this time.'"
"At this time?"
"Yes."
"That's what he said?"
"Yes."
"Daines?"
"Principal Officer Daines."
"That's his rank?"
"Civil Service grades in SOCA. Tells you what you need to know."
"And he didn't give you any more details than that?"
Lynn shook her head. "The last thing he wanted, he assured me, was for me to feel shut out from what was going on."
"Good of him."
"But because the investigation was at quite a delicate stage, he couldn't say a great deal more right now, though he fully intended to bring me up to speed as soon as he possibly could."
Resnick shifted in his chair. It was a long time since he'd see Lynn so openly angry, and with such apparent cause. "What did the ACC have to say?"
"Oh, some waffle about the importance of cooperating with a national organisation. Seeing the wider picture-you can imagine. From what I could make out at the conference I went to, SOCA have had precious little to do with Forces outside London. Won't be doing the Chief Constable any harm politically if we're one of the first. Help shift attention away from kids shooting themselves on the streets."
"You're getting cynical in your old age," Resnick said.
"And you're not?"
"Just older."
Lynn went over to the window and looked down towards the street. A large crane was being manoeuvred towards the entrance of the adjacent building site, blocking the traffic in both directions.