‘No chance of catching him leaving?’
Riley scratched his belly. ‘Too many options. Too much manpower to throw at a missing teenager. You know how it is. And still no guarantees. He could be in there right now, sacked out in somebody’s bloody warehouse flat. Or he could have left in the back of somebody’s car and we’d be none the wiser.’
‘Not good.’ Paula got to her feet and joined Riley in his scrutiny of the city below. Somewhere out there was the key to Daniel Morrison’s disappearance. It might as well have been in Iceland for all the use it was to them right now. ‘Not good at all.’
‘What are you going to do about it? Talk to the family?’
She shook her head. ‘It’s not up to me. But I’ll be advising my chief to let it lie till something changes. It sounds like you’ve covered the bases already.’
Riley seemed taken aback. ‘Right you are,’ he said, failing to hide a note of surprise. ‘If we’re no further forward by tomorrow morning, we’ll likely wheel the parents out at a press conference. I’ll give you fair warning.’
Paula stubbed out her cigarette. ‘Thanks, Sarge.’ She felt his eyes on her back as she crossed the roof to the fire stairs. She reckoned she’d made a new friend. The day had not been wasted.
Tony looked around the crowded curry house. He and Carol had been coming to the same Indian restaurant on the fringes of Temple Fields since the first case they’d worked together, and in spite of changes of décor and chef, it was still one of the busiest and the best. He’d once been concerned that the tables were so close that people would be put off their food by the conversations he and Carol shared, until he’d realised there was so much background noise that eavesdropping was impossible. And so it had become a regular rendezvous. Tony suspected they both appreciated its neutrality, a no man’s land where neither had territorial advantage in the complicated skirmishes of their relationship.
He glanced at his watch again and this time when he looked up he spotted Carol threading her way through the packed tables towards him. Her cheeks were pink from the chill of the evening, making her eyes seem bluer. Her thick blonde hair was ready for a cut, the layers growing shaggy and disordered. If pressed, Tony would have admitted he preferred the current look to the groomed perfection of a fresh cut. But then, nobody was likely to press him, least of all Carol.
She dropped into her chair with a whoosh of a sigh, shrugging off her coat and reaching for the sweating bottle of Cobra sitting in front of her. She clinked it against Tony’s and took a long swallow. ‘That’s better,’ she said. ‘Thirsty work, getting here on time.’
‘Good day?’ Tony knew the answer; they were here because the text she’d sent had invited him here to celebrate.
‘I think so,’ Carol said. Their waiter glided to a halt by the table and they both rattled off their orders without having to consult the menu. ‘We may just have the key to a fourteen-year-old cold case.’ She outlined the fresh evidence against Nigel Barnes. ‘The good news is that Stacey’s managed to narrow down the possible zones for the body dump, so Cumbria’s underwater search team are willing to take a crack at it. I’ve sent Sam up there to liaise with them.’
‘Well done. That should get you the kind of headlines to keep Blake off your back.’
The corners of her mouth turned down. ‘I don’t know. I suspect he’ll just write it off as something that would have happened whoever was doing cold cases, but he’d be wrong. See, most detectives, when they heard Nigel Barnes had moved house, they wouldn’t bother following up the way Sam did. They’d regard it as an excuse to let the whole thing drop. But my team are special. They think in tangents, not straight lines. It’s hard to explain to a man like Blake what that means on the ground.’
‘Especially if he doesn’t want to understand,’ Tony said.
Carol gave a wry smile. ‘Quite. But let’s not think about that tonight, let’s just enjoy the fact that my team are on the verge of another success.’
‘You do a good job. It’s hard, having to tell families their worst nightmares have come true, but at least you end the uncertainty. And bringing killers to justice, that’s always worth something. It’s the old cliché, but it’s true. You’re there to speak for the dead, to act on their behalf.’ He smiled at her, his eyes crinkling up at the corners. He was glad the evening had got off to a good start. He had a feeling it might not continue so smoothly.
A plate piled with vegetable and fish pakora arrived and they both helped themselves. There was a respectful silence as they worked their way through. At last, Tony sighed in satisfaction. ‘I didn’t realise how hungry I was.’
‘You always say that,’ Carol mumbled through her last mouthful of crisp batter and soft cauliflower.
‘It’s always true.’
‘So, how’s your day been?’
Wary now, Tony said, ‘Well, I’m pleased to say that even if James Blake doesn’t want me, there are others who do. I had a call today asking me to consult on a murder, so it looks like I’m still in demand.’
‘That’s great. Anyone I know?’ Carol looked genuinely pleased. He imagined that might not last.
‘A DI called Stuart Patterson.’
Carol frowned and shook her head. ‘Name doesn’t ring a bell.’
‘From West Mercia.’
Surprise flashed across her face, freezing her expression. ‘West Mercia? You’re going to Worcester?’ The accusation he’d expected was there in her voice.
‘That’s where I’m needed, Carol. I didn’t chase this. It chased me.’ He didn’t want to sound defensive but he knew he did.
‘You didn’t have to say yes.’
Tony threw his hands in the air. ‘I never have to say yes. And I always have to say yes. You know that. Like I just said, we’re the only ones left to speak for the dead.’
Carol hung her head. ‘I’m sorry. You’re right. It just seems . . . I don’t know. When I tried to talk to you about your father, you cut me off at the knees. You didn’t want to deal with it. And yet here you are, first chance you get, off to the city where he lived most of his adult life. You’ll be walking the streets he walked, seeing the buildings he saw, maybe even drinking in the same pubs as people who knew him.’
‘I can’t help that, Carol. It’s not like I drove down to Worcester to murder and mutilate a teenage girl on the off-chance West Mercia would call me in to do them a profile. This is what I do best, this is what makes me come alive. I’m good at it and I can help.’ He stopped speaking as the waiter arrived with their main courses.
Once they were alone again, she said, ‘So are you going to pretend you’ve got no connection with the place once you’re there?’
‘That wouldn’t be a pretence. I don’t have any connection.’
Carol gave a dry laugh as she loaded a piece of naan with karahi chicken. ‘Apart from owning a house and a boat there.’
‘That’s an accident, not a connection.’
She gave him a long look, compassionate and tender. ‘You won’t be able to resist, Tony. If you try to, it’ll eat a hole in your heart.’
‘That’s a bit melodramatic for you,’ he said, trying to deflect her concern. ‘Where’s my pragmatic detective chief inspector?’
‘Trying to get you to accept your own needs for once. You spend your life trying to fix what’s broken. You do it for your patients. You do it when you profile for us. You do it for the people you care about, people like Paula. And me. All I want is for you to be selfish this time and do it for yourself.’ She reached out and put a hand over his. ‘We’ve known each other a long, long time, Tony. We know a lot of the ways we’re both fucked up. When you’ve spotted opportunities to help me, you’ve taken them. Why won’t you let me do the same for you?’