‘We had a one-night fling at Bruche,’ Henry said. ‘I’ve never seen hide nor hair of her since. I didn’t even know you then.’ He didn’t mention he’d been into Anger’s office on two occasions recently inspecting his treasured photos. Nor did he mention that she was a one-night fling that had ended up with him on top of her on the bonnet of the Commandant’s car.
‘You’d think you two were still at it, the way she talks,’ Anger said sullenly. ‘I hate you, Henry. It feels like you’re responsible for my marriage collapsing.’
Henry did not go into counselling mode. He simply said, ‘Are the phones in your desk?’
Anger opened the top drawer and took out two mobile phones, which he dropped on to the desk with a clatter. They were old handsets, bulky, but still serviceable. He pushed them away from him.
‘Did you organize my beatings, too?’
He sneered. ‘Henry, if anyone’s going to have the pleasure of kicking the shit out of you, it’s me. I wouldn’t sub-contract that to anyone.’
‘Fair do’s.’
‘Can we do a deal?’
It was Henry’s turn to stifle a laugh. ‘I’ll take my chances in Corporate Development and with PSD. And anyway, it’s not up to me.’ He stood up and opened the office door to reveal Chief Constable Fanshaw-Bayley standing in the corridor. Behind him was John Walker, the tech support detective. ‘Did you get all that?’ Henry asked.
Walker said, ‘Yep — it’s all on tape.’
Henry opened his jacket and slowly removed the wire he had been wearing, which he bundled up and gave to Walker. ‘Thanks for your time,’ he said. Then to FB, he said, ‘I’ll leave it with you, boss.’
He walked out without looking back at Dave Anger. FB stepped into the office and closed the door softly.
At Blackpool Vic, Rik Dean was awaiting one last visit from the consultant. He was expecting to be discharged later that afternoon. Henry had been with him about half an hour, bringing him up to speed with the investigation he had missed out on.
‘… Looks like Callum Rourke has been abusing little Kerry right under Tina’s nose, or maybe she knew, I don’t know. Something we’ll have to delve into. Seems Kerry wanted it to stop, Callum continued the abuse, so she threatened to tell the police, which panicked him, which is why he flipped, abducted her and then tried to kill himself and her. He spun us a pack of lies on the night she disappeared, but I got lucky,’ Henry admitted, not mentioning Troy Costain. ‘I mean, I’d definitely got tunnel vision, and though I hadn’t really liked young Callum, I was convinced Trent had snatched her, even though it didn’t totally fit the pattern. But he doesn’t abduct all the girls in the world, does he?’
‘Just a coincidence, huh?’ Rik was sat upright on his bed, fully clothed, waiting for the almighty consultant. Bandages showed around his neck and shoulders, and his arm was in a sling to ease the pressure on his neck. He still looked pitifully weak, however. ‘You did a good job, H,’ Rik said.
‘Almost got you killed along the line, though.’
‘The routine ones are always the ones that bite your arse. Don’t blame yourself. One o’ those things. At least I live to fight and love another day.’ He paused. ‘You still don’t know who’s out to beat you to a pulp, though, do you?’
‘Nah,’ Henry answered absently. ‘Gotta be someone from Manchester, I reckon. I’m pretty much running out of suspects — though there is one irate husband still on the prowl.’
‘How do you feel about it?’
‘Threatened,’ he shrugged. ‘I’ll just have to take more care, be ready.’
Henry excused himself after a few minutes, stating he had a lot of work to do, which was true. He wandered slowly through the hospital, feeling pretty happy with things until he reached the main entrance foyer at the front of the hospital. There, eyes raised up to the information and direction boards, stood a spectacular-looking Debbie Black, dressed to maim, if not kill. Before she spotted him, Henry dived into the newsagents and grabbed a magazine from the shelves. He hid behind it as he saw Debbie find what she was looking for on the boards, adjust her clothing with an all-over quiver of her body, and set off down the corridor. It was clear to Henry where she was headed — to Rik Dean’s ward. There was no other reason for her to be here.
Henry replaced the magazine on the shelf and scuttled quickly out of the hospital, hoping that Rik Dean would not hate him too much.
As he drove away, the figure who had been watching Henry, also got into a car and began to follow, slotting in two cars behind. The person’s breathing, as ever, when Henry Christie was in view, was shallow and juddery. One day, that person thought, Henry Christie would get more than just deserts for all the suffering he had caused. He would get dead.