On Cold Ground (Detective Karen Hart) Page 13

‘Hi.’ His voice was warm. ‘Still on for dinner?’

  ‘Actually . . .’ Karen said.

  ‘Don’t tell me. You’ve got to work late.’

  She felt a pang of guilt. ‘It’s not that – well, I suppose it is in a way. The case is a weird one. I’m going to stay at Morgan’s house tonight.’ Mike was silent on the other end of the phone, so Karen babbled on. ‘He got a threatening letter delivered to his house early this morning. A colleague is installing cameras at the house this evening, and we’re both going to stay there just in case.’

  ‘Is that safe?’

  ‘We’ll have a unit on standby. But it’s unlikely whoever delivered the letter will come back.’

  She heard Mike blow out a long breath. ‘Right.’

  ‘Dinner on Wednesday?’ she suggested, trying to read his mood.

  ‘Yeah, that’ll be great. But about tonight—’

  ‘It’ll be fine. Really.’

  ‘You’ll call me if anything happens?’

  ‘Sure, though I doubt it will.’

  ‘Are you heading to Morgan’s now?’ Mike asked.

  ‘I’m seeing Anthony for a quick drink first.’

  ‘Your old boss?’

  ‘Yes, I haven’t seen him for a while, and something happened at work today that made me think we should have a chat.’

  ‘All right then. Well, take care. Don’t do anything stupid tonight.’

  ‘I won’t.’

  When Karen hung up, she realised she hadn’t even asked Mike about his day. How could she be so self-involved? She shoved her mobile back in her pocket, shaking her head. Once she’d spoken to Anthony, she’d call Mike back and have a proper chat.

  She pushed open the doors to the pub and saw Anthony was already there, perching on a stool next to the bar.

  He waved when he saw her. ‘What are you drinking?’

  ‘Glass of red, thanks.’

  After they were served, they took their drinks to a table by a window, opposite the glowing fire. Karen put her overnight bag under the table.

  Anthony carefully put his pint on a beer mat, then smiled at Karen. ‘Is everything all right? You look tired.’

  Karen didn’t know where to start. Should she tell him about the letter threatening DI Morgan? Mike harping on about grief counselling? Or the trouble with Churchill? She looked at her old boss and felt herself relax. Even now, he was there for her. Listening to her problems, giving her advice. Just for once, she’d like to repay that kindness.

  ‘I’m on a difficult case,’ she said. ‘Haven’t been sleeping much. But how are you? We always talk about me.’

  ‘That’s because you live a much more exciting life than a boring old codger like me.’ Anthony smiled and took a sip of his pint. ‘Things are fine. A bit tedious, but fine.’

  ‘I thought you were enjoying the freedom of retirement.’

  ‘I am most days, but sometimes I miss the routine of getting up in the morning and going to an actual job. Seeing real people.’

  ‘You see your family though, don’t you?’

  ‘My sister, occasionally, but she’s got a big brood, and they keep her busy.’ He removed his glasses.

  Karen looked at him as he rubbed his eyes. He was lonely, and she hadn’t noticed. ‘What are you doing for Christmas?’

  ‘I expect my sister will send me an invitation.’

  Karen raised her eyebrows. ‘She hasn’t invited you yet?’

  He shrugged. ‘She’s busy.’

  ‘Then why don’t you spend Christmas with me? Mum and Dad will be there, and my sister, her husband and their little girl, Mallory. You know them all. We’ll have a great time.’

  Anthony smiled. ‘That’s very kind of you, Karen, but you don’t have to—’

  ‘I know I don’t have to, boss. But I’d like you to be there.’

  He lifted his pint, clinked it against Karen’s wine glass. ‘In that case, I’d be very happy to accept your kind invitation.’ His smile widened. ‘I’ll bring the wine and port.’ He brightened. ‘And the cheese. I’ve recently discovered the most delightful blue cheese called Cropwell Bishop. I know your dad will love it.’

  ‘Perfect.’

  ‘Now, I’ve told you about my boring life, why don’t you update me on your exciting one?’

  Karen started with a less heavy topic. ‘Things are going well with Mike.’

  ‘That’s good.’ He hesitated. ‘Isn’t it?’

  ‘It is. Really good.’

  ‘There’s a but coming, isn’t there?’

  Karen leaned forward, propping her elbows on the table, and sighed. ‘There is. You know Mike lost his son?’

  Anthony nodded. ‘He drowned in an accident?’

  ‘Yes, so he understands. Mike gets me, in the way other people can’t.’

  ‘That doesn’t sound like a negative point.’

  ‘No, usually it isn’t.’ She fiddled with a beermat, twirling it around in her fingers. ‘A few months ago, he attended a counselling group in Lincoln, which helped him. It was full of other people who’d lost loved ones. They get together and talk about their grief. Share their sad stories.’ Karen looked up. Anthony was listening intently and didn’t interrupt, so she continued. ‘Mike’s decided it’s a good idea for me to attend one of these groups.’

  ‘Ah,’ Anthony said, nodding. ‘And you don’t agree?’

  ‘It’s not me, is it? Sharing personal stuff with a side of tea and sympathy.’

  ‘You’ve told him you’re not keen on the idea?’

  ‘Yes, but he seems fixated on it. Keeps bringing it up.’ She bit her lip. ‘Do you think I’m unreasonable?’

  Anthony quickly shook his head. ‘Not at all. You know your own mind. He shouldn’t push you to do something you don’t want to, but I can see his suggestion is coming from a good place. He wants to help you.’

  ‘He does.’ Karen lifted her drink and took a sip. ‘I suppose there are worse problems to have.’

  ‘Maybe he’d understand if you explain.’

  ‘I tried. I thought he understood. But then he said I should try one session just to make sure it’s not for me.’

  ‘Did you?’

  Karen took another sip of her wine. ‘No. I’ve been busy.’

  Anthony smiled, lifted his pint. ‘And the more he pushes, the less inclined you are to go?’ He arched an eyebrow.

  Karen couldn’t help smiling. ‘You know me well, boss.’ Then the smile slid from her face, and her tone became serious. ‘Do you think I should go?’

  ‘I think you should make up your own mind.’ He smiled to take the edge off his words. ‘Only you know what you need.’

  ‘You’re right.’ She leaned back against the upholstered bench.

  ‘And what about this case you’re working on? What’s the trouble there? Have pity on a bored ex-copper.’

  This was safer ground. Not emotional, easier to talk about. Karen rested her forearms on the table. ‘It’s a weird one.’

  ‘I’m all ears.’

  ‘There was a murder in the cathedral on Saturday. A bit grisly. The victim had markings on his forehead.’ Karen spoke softly, so Anthony had to lean close to hear. ‘Then Morgan received a letter at home. It was threatening in tone and talked about being cleansed of sin. And the fact it was delivered to his home address has made us all pretty nervous.’

  ‘Yes, I imagine it would,’ Anthony said, nodding. ‘Is Morgan still working the case?’

  ‘No, the super took him straight off after he told her about the letter, but we’re having cameras installed at his house tonight, just in case whoever delivered the note comes back.’

  Anthony looked thoughtful. He put his hand on his glass but didn’t pick it up. Instead, he ran a finger along the condensation on the outside of the glass. ‘Did the letter provide any clues to the killer’s motive or identity?’

  ‘No, but it contained allegations against the victim. Allegations that we are as yet unable to prove.’ It was on the tip of her
tongue to share the theory about the hit-and-run accident, but they had no evidence for that yet. Although he was her old boss, he wasn’t a current member of the police service, and she shouldn’t technically be sharing any details about an active case.

  She lifted her glass of wine. ‘Anyway, as you can imagine, it’s all been quite stressful. And the cherry on top is that DCI Churchill has been brought over from Boston to take over the case.’

  Anthony looked up from his pint sharply. ‘Churchill?’

  ‘Yes. It was . . . unexpected.’

  Anthony stroked his chin thoughtfully. ‘You’re working with him?’

  ‘Yes, more’s the pity. We’ve not had a great working relationship so far.’

  Anthony reached over and put his hand on Karen’s. He wasn’t a tactile person, and Karen looked down at his large hand over her own, surprised.

  ‘Be careful,’ Anthony said, concern etched on his face.

  ‘With Churchill? Why? What do you know about him?’

  Anthony moved his hand to encircle Karen’s wrist. ‘You’ve asked me before. And I’ve got no evidence against him, but he was one of the men Alice Price accused of taking bribes and ignoring crimes carried out by certain criminal groups before she left the force.’

  ‘I know, but Alice withdrew those allegations. She said she was mistaken.’

  ‘And do you believe that?’

  ‘I don’t know, boss.’ Karen searched his face. ‘What do you think? You worked with her. Each time I’ve visited her, she’s been . . . fragile, an emotional wreck.’

  ‘I thought her claims were believable at the time,’ Anthony said quietly.

  ‘So what do you think I should do? Go to the super, tell her I think Churchill is on the take?’

  ‘No,’ Anthony said hurriedly, tightening his hold on Karen’s wrist. ‘He could be dangerous. Keep away from him.’

  Karen didn’t say anything for a moment. How could she stay away from Churchill? She was currently on his team. Besides, was she just supposed to ignore the fact he might be corrupt?

  ‘I can’t do that,’ Karen said softly. ‘You know I can’t. I’ve spoken to DS Grace about him. She’s going to follow up.’

  Anthony released Karen’s wrist and rubbed his hands over his face. ‘I don’t like this. Can’t you get a transfer? Just a temporary one?’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because you could be at risk! If Alice was right, then you could be working with a monster.’

  ‘Then staying on his team is the best way forward, because I can get the evidence to bring him down.’

  Anthony paled. ‘We know what they’re capable of, Karen. You need to be careful.’

  Sparrow sat in the car park outside the pub, the windscreen steaming up. He would have preferred to go inside, but there was no way he could without DS Hart noticing him. He wiped away some of the condensation with an old napkin he found in the footwell.

  Luckily they had obliged him by taking a table by a window. Sparrow pulled his tablet from beneath the seat and tapped a few buttons, activating the microphone on Karen’s phone. Then he settled back to listen.

  Their voices came through clear and sharp. It took him a few minutes to place the man Karen referred to as Anthony, but he made the link eventually and checked on Google to make sure he was right.

  The search produced lots of pictures of various Anthony Shaws. But the one Sparrow was interested in was the third hit. DCI Anthony Shaw stood proudly in his uniform. Must have been taken at some awards ceremony, Sparrow mused, as he clicked and enlarged the image.

  Yes, it was definitely him. Why was he meeting DS Hart?

  He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. This was an unexpected development, and Sparrow didn’t like those. He didn’t like being in the dark. He listened to their conversation with interest, and when Karen finally left in a taxi, Sparrow was tempted to follow her, but instead he got out of his car. He needed more information on DCI Shaw.

  He was about to walk into the pub when Shaw walked outside. Sparrow hesitated, then leaned down, pretending to tie his shoelace. But he needn’t have bothered. Shaw hadn’t noticed him. He was too preoccupied. Been out of the force for too long, Sparrow thought.

  Shaw pulled out his mobile, dialled a number and then clamped the phone to his ear.

  After a moment he said, ‘Alice? Oh, sorry, I was hoping to speak to Alice Price . . . Yes . . . It’s DCI Shaw. I used to work with your wife.’

  Sparrow’s pulse spiked at the mention of Alice Price’s name.

  Shaw grimaced. ‘I understand that . . . I promise this won’t take long . . . Please, I really do need to speak to her.’ Another pause, and then, ‘Alice? Is that you? This is DCI Anthony Shaw.’ He was quiet for a moment, looking up at the dark sky. Then he tensed and said, ‘I’m sorry to trouble you, Alice, but we need to meet.’

  Well, that was curious, Sparrow thought as he walked back to the car after listening to the one-sided conversation. Alice Price. A blast from the past. This could be a very interesting turn of events.

  He waited until DCI Shaw walked back into the pub, and then Sparrow picked up his burner phone and placed a call of his own.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Karen had smiled and tried to convince Anthony he was worrying over nothing. ‘You know me, boss. I’m always careful.’

  But he’d looked so troubled that, after Karen left, his words kept echoing in her mind.

  She took a taxi to Morgan’s, who’d just got home after having a drink with Rick, and when she got there, Harinder was out the front, working on the cameras and installing a new alarm system.

  ‘Hi, Harry. Thanks again,’ she said, and rapped on Morgan’s front door.

  ‘No problem. Almost finished. Just got to fix the connections inside and hook it up to the Wi-Fi,’ Harinder said as Morgan opened the front door and they all went inside.

  ‘Dinner’s on me,’ Morgan said, holding up an array of takeaway menus. ‘What’s it to be? Chinese, Indian?’

  ‘Pizza?’ Harinder suggested, lifting his eyebrows.

  ‘I suppose it’s only fair you get to choose, as you’re doing all the work,’ Morgan said, reaching for the phone. ‘What do you want?’

  Harinder asked for double pepperoni, and Karen opted for Hawaiian.

  ‘Pineapple on pizza?’ Morgan grimaced. ‘No accounting for taste.’

  Karen chatted to Harinder as he checked the system was working. ‘How did you get Morgan to agree to the alarm system as well as the cameras?’

  ‘He didn’t have much choice.’ Harinder grinned. ‘The superintendent insisted. She’s also authorised a squad car to drive past the property every half an hour.’ Harinder pointed to a small rectangle on the edge of the window frame. ‘And all the windows and doors have contact magnetics. If they’re opened when the alarm is activated, the siren will sound and send an alert to the station.’

  ‘Great,’ Morgan muttered. ‘Now I’ll be afraid to open a window in my own home, in case I trigger mass panic.’

  ‘It’s winter, and it’s freezing,’ Karen said. ‘You can keep the windows closed until we find The Cleanser.’

  Harinder then pointed out the motion sensors installed in the corner of every room, and showed them how to set the alarm using an app on Morgan’s phone. They’d just finished a practice run when the delivery driver arrived, and they polished off the three medium pizzas in no time. Karen hadn’t realised how hungry she was.

  After Harinder left, Morgan lifted his glass. ‘Shall I open another bottle?’

  ‘Not for me,’ Karen said. ‘I want to stay sharp, just in case.’

  Morgan put down the glass. ‘I suppose you’re right.’ He sank on to the sofa next to Karen. ‘So, how are things going with you and Mike?’

  Karen heard the change of tone in Morgan’s voice when he said Mike’s name. He didn’t approve of him. He’d made that clear, but it was none of his business.

  ‘Great.’ She paused. ‘Although he did seem
a little worried I was staying here tonight.’

  ‘I’m not surprised. Staying in a strange man’s house.’

  ‘Yes, you are a little strange.’ Karen grinned.

  Morgan frowned. ‘Very funny.’

  ‘What have you got against him?’

  ‘Nothing.’

  ‘Don’t give me that. Every time he’s mentioned you get a look on your face.’

  ‘A look?’

  ‘Yes, like this.’ Karen gave an exaggerated sneer.

  Morgan chuckled and shook his head. ‘I do not.’

  ‘You do have a problem with him though.’

  ‘It’s not personal. He was a suspect in a case—’

  ‘He was a bystander. Wrong place, wrong time. He didn’t do anything.’

  Morgan let out a heavy sigh. ‘Okay. I just don’t want you to get hurt. You’ve been through a lot.’

  ‘So has he.’

  ‘I know. That’s why I’m worried. You need someone stable.’

  ‘He is stable. He’s a good man.’

  Morgan said nothing.

  ‘How’s Jill?’ Karen asked, changing the subject. ‘Haven’t seen her lately.’

  ‘She’s fine. Well, I think she’s fine . . .’

  ‘What does that mean?’

  ‘I don’t see her much when we have a big caseload. And it’s hard for her to understand the demands of the job, you know?’

  Karen had been lucky in that sense. Josh had understood. They’d shared childcare, and he’d accepted the times she had to work late with little notice. He’d worried about her, of course, but they hadn’t rowed about her absences, like some couples. And now, with Mike, she had someone who had been in the police service himself.

  ‘It can’t be easy for her,’ Karen said, tucking a cushion under her arm and getting comfortable. She smothered a yawn. ‘Are you sure you’re okay with this security app?’

  ‘Yes, I’m not a complete technophobe.’

  ‘Why don’t you test the camera again?’

  With a sigh, Morgan got to his feet. He walked out into the hallway and Karen heard him open the front door. A moment later, the alarm alert sounded on the phone. She called out, ‘It’s working fine.’

  He came back into the room, rubbing his arms. ‘It’s freezing out there.’