Murder Ring (A DI Geraldine Steel Mystery) Page 14

  ‘Geraldine, thank you for getting back to me,’ Louise said pleasantly, as though Geraldine was doing her a favour. ‘As you know, I wanted to talk to you about your mother.’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘I know you’ve been wanting to meet her. You talked about this with Sandra but I see from the file there’s been no discussion about it for a while.’

  ‘That’s because there was nothing to discuss. My mother refused to have any contact with me.’

  ‘How would you respond if she felt differently about it now?’

  ‘Are you saying my mother wants to see me?’

  ‘She would like to meet you, yes. How do you feel about that?’

  Geraldine felt as though she had been punched in the stomach.

  ‘Geraldine?’

  ‘Sorry, it’s been so long – I mean, she was so adamant – Sandra said –’ She took a deep breath to steady her voice. ‘Yes, I’d like to meet her.’

  ‘I have to tell you she’s not a well woman.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘She suffered a coronary and she’s in hospital –’

  ‘Is she dying?’

  ‘I don’t think it’s that dramatic, but she’s not well. The hospital are concerned that she should avoid any stress, but she’s insisting she wants to see you.’

  ‘When can I see her?’

  ‘Leave it with me. I’ll try to fix up a visit tomorrow morning, but I’ll need to get back to you to confirm that.’

  ‘I’ll be available whenever I can see her. Text me the details first thing in the morning and I’ll be there.’

  She hung up. She felt perfectly calm, but as she put her phone away, she began to shake so violently she could hardly walk.

  35

  THAT EVENING GERALDINE and Sam went to speak to Luke’s parents. Geraldine struggled to listen to Sam, and in the end her sergeant gave up trying to have a conversation with her.

  ‘I can tell you’re not listening.’

  ‘Sorry, I’m just preoccupied.’

  She didn’t tell Sam what was on her mind. It was easier to let the sergeant assume she was thinking about the case. In the morning, Louise might call to say her mother had thought better of her decision and didn’t want to see her after all. In the meantime, Geraldine wanted to put the whole idea out of her mind and concentrate on the case. Easier said than done. Throughout the afternoon her thoughts had kept wandering back to the social worker’s words. Louise had been clear that Milly wanted to meet her, which was potentially good news, but her mother had suffered a coronary. Many people survived for years after heart attacks, even quite major ones. Presumably it was her illness that had made her change her mind about meeting Geraldine. In less than eighteen hours Geraldine could be sitting at her mother’s bedside.

  With difficulty she turned her thoughts to her evening’s task. They were on their way to Catford to visit Luke’s family. Geraldine had visited families of victims before to break the terrible news of a murder. It was the most harrowing part of her job. This time was different, because Luke’s parents already knew he was dead. What they had yet to learn was that his death had not been accidental, as had originally been thought. Information that sensitive couldn’t be given out over the phone. In some ways it would be kinder to leave them in ignorance. If an accidental death was shocking to live with, murder was worse. But Geraldine had to find out if they knew of anyone who might have wanted Luke dead.

  Mr and Mrs Thomas lived in a terraced house in a side street off the main high street in Catford. They were close to the shops and the bus route, and within walking distance of the station. From there it would be easy for a young man to travel up to Central London for a night out. After parking, they crossed a narrow front yard and climbed two steps to the front door. Sam rapped on the door with her knuckles and they waited. After a few moments she knocked again, as loudly as she could. This time a voice inside the house called out.

  ‘Who is it?’

  ‘Police.’

  ‘What do you want?’

  There was a pause then the door was opened on the chain and a woman’s face peered out at her. Geraldine held up her identity card.

  ‘Oh yes,’ the woman inside called to her, ‘they phoned to say you’d be back. What do you want?’

  ‘Can we come in?’

  ‘What do you want?’ the woman repeated.

  ‘We need to talk to you about Luke.’

  The woman slammed the door shut. Geraldine cursed under her breath, hoping they hadn’t driven all that way for nothing. The public’s attitude towards the police had deteriorated drastically in recent years, but she wasn’t there to arrest anyone. There was no reason for Mrs Thomas to be hostile. As she was wondering whether to knock again, there was a rattling sound and the door swung open.

  ‘Come on in.’

  From a dark, narrow hallway the woman led her into an untidy front room where a man was snoring loudly in front of a blaring television. The woman muted it and gestured towards a chair.

  ‘Oy,’ the man mumbled, waking up, ‘I was watching that.’

  ‘Derek, the police are here.’

  Having established that she was talking to Luke’s parents, Geraldine asked if they would answer a few questions about their son. Luke’s father turned to her, his expression masked by thick grey stubble. Only his bloodshot eyes revealed his misery.

  ‘You going to close that place down?’ Luke’s mother asked.

  ‘So much for bloody health and safety,’ his father added. ‘They drive us nuts where I work, you can’t hardly move without bloody health and safety breathing down your neck, you can’t do this and you can’t do that. And then they go and have a window where anyone can just fall out –’ He broke off, overcome with emotion. ‘He was only twenty. That place should be shut down and the owners locked up. The place was a death trap.’

  ‘We have reason to believe Luke’s death wasn’t an accident.’

  ‘No, no,’ Luke’s mother burst out in alarm. ‘He never. He was such a happy boy.’

  ‘They’re not getting away with that,’ his father broke in angrily. ‘They’re responsible, and I’m going to make damn sure they go out of business.’

  Geraldine ignored their interruptions. ‘We have evidence that leads us to conclude he was murdered. The fact is your son wasn’t killed when he fell on the railings outside the bar. His death was quicker and less painful than that. In fact, we don’t think he suffered at all, because he was shot and killed before he fell from the window.’

  Luke’s parents were shocked into silence for a moment.

  ‘Shot? What do you mean he was shot?’

  ‘Who shot him?’

  ‘I don’t believe it!’

  ‘There’s no doubt about it, I’m afraid. We’re trying to find out what happened. Do you know anyone who might have wanted to harm your son? Did he have any enemies? Had he been in any fights or arguments recently?’

  Luke’s parents looked at her in surprise. His mother covered her face with her hands, sobbing.

  ‘Luke didn’t have enemies,’ his father replied.

  ‘Everyone loved him. No one would have wanted to hurt Luke. No one,’ his mother agreed, her voice muffled by her hands.

  ‘It’s a preposterous thing to say. I don’t believe it for one moment. Come on, now, love, don’t go upsetting yourself all over again,’ her husband said. He turned to Geraldine. ‘I think you’d better leave.’

  Urging them to contact her if they thought of anything that might assist the police in their investigation into Luke’s murder, Geraldine stood up.

  ‘I’m really very sorry,’ she added helplessly. ‘We’ll show ourselves out.’

  There was nothing more to say.

  36

  AFTER A RESTLESS night Geraldine got up early, but she didn’t set off for the police station. Instead she sat at home with her phone on her desk and tried to concentrate on work. She decided to give it until ten. If Louise hadn’t contacted he
r by then, she would call to find out what was happening. By nine forty-five the only call she had received was to tell her that Lenny had been released. At five to ten the phone rang. Without any preamble, Louise gave Geraldine the name of the hospital, and the ward, where her mother was staying. As though in a dream, Geraldine scribbled down the details.

  ‘Would you like to see her today?’

  ‘I’ll leave right away.’

  The Whittington Hospital was probably about an hour’s drive away.

  ‘I can meet you there this afternoon –’

  ‘That’s OK, there’s really no need for you to come.’

  ‘We like to accompany people at initial meetings like this. You and your mother might experience an intense emotional reaction –’

  ‘I understand why you’re saying that,’ Geraldine interrupted her, ‘but it’s not as if we’re meeting somewhere private. We’ll be in a hospital ward. And I am a detective inspector. I’m used to dealing with tricky situations, not that I anticipate this being difficult, I mean, she wants to see me, doesn’t she?’ She broke off, aware that she was babbling foolishly. ‘I mean, of course you’re welcome to come along, I just thought you must be busy enough.’

  ‘Well, if you’re sure…’

  ‘Absolutely.’ Geraldine had never felt less sure of anything in her life. ‘We’ll be fine.’

  After the brief conversation finished, she sat for a moment, staring at the message she had scrawled. If she hadn’t written it down, she would have struggled to believe that Louise had actually called and given her the details. Even with the physical evidence in front of her, it felt unreal. As if in a dream she walked to her car and drove to the hospital. In all her fantasies about finding her mother, she had never imagined meeting in a hospital ward, under the watching eyes of other patients and passing staff. She hoped it wouldn’t be awkward, establishing a bond in so exposed a place. When she was nearly there, it occurred to her that she and her mother might not feel any kind of connection anyway. Drawing up in the hospital car park, she started to regret having driven there without any last minute preparation. Louise should have been more strident in her warnings. But how could she have prepared herself for this encounter? She had been desperate to meet her mother for so long. The reality was almost bound to be a disappointment. She should never have come. But her mother wanted to see her. How could she have refused? She determined to assume an air of confidence, even though she felt like a frightened child.

  Her mother lay in a hospital bed. Tubes attached to her arms connected her to complicated pieces of medical equipment, beeping, pulsing, dripping, keeping her hydrated, maintaining her blood sugar levels, and monitoring her progress. While all that equipment was keeping her physical shell alive, she appeared to be sleeping peacefully. Geraldine hovered near the bed, waiting to be overwhelmed by a wave of affection. When her mother had given her up, Geraldine had been a tiny baby, too young to have registered her mother’s face as anything but a blur. Seeing her in the flesh for the first time, she searched her face for any familiar feature. The photograph of her mother as a teenager looked uncannily like Geraldine herself. There was nothing of that girl in the pale shrunken cheeks and bony chin of the woman lying in the bed. Geraldine wondered if there had been a mistake.

  ‘You here to visit Milly?’ a passing nurse asked.

  The name coursed through Geraldine like a bolt of electricity. She turned to the nurse. ‘She’s my – I’m her daughter.’

  ‘Of course you are. You look just like her.’

  Geraldine tried to smile at the unlikely comment, which was meant kindly, but she felt tears in her eyes. She couldn’t help it.

  ‘Don’t fret,’ the nurse said, misunderstanding Geraldine’s distress, ‘she’s stable now. The doctor will be round later on. Why don’t you sit with your mother for a while?’

  Geraldine nodded, unable to speak. Sitting by the bedside, she dabbed at her eyes and waited. After about twenty minutes, Milly’s lips twitched. She opened her eyes and turned her head slightly until she was looking straight at Geraldine who stared back into her own large dark eyes. For a moment they didn’t exchange a word, but Geraldine knew that her mother recognised her.

  Milly smiled weakly and moved her lips. Geraldine leaned forward so she could hear her mother’s whisper.

  ‘Can’t talk. Such an effort. Sorry.’

  It wasn’t clear if she was apologising for her feeble voice, or for having given Geraldine away.

  ‘That’s OK. All you need to think about is getting well.’

  ‘Someone you have to find. She’ll look after you.’

  ‘Go on.’

  ‘Her name’s Erin.’

  Evidently, Milly was confused. Geraldine wasn’t sure whether to explain that Erin was the name on her own birth certificate.

  ‘I’m here,’ she faltered. ‘I’m Erin. The social worker contacted me about you. Erin’s the name on my birth certificate.’

  Her mother frowned. ‘You’re Erin?’ Her eyes scanned Geraldine’s face as though she was trying to read words in a foreign language. ‘I never thought…’

  ‘Don’t try to speak any more for now. We can talk when you’re feeling better. Just rest. That’s all that matters for now.’

  ‘No, no,’ her mother shook her head. Her hoarse whisper grew louder and the heart monitor beeped. ‘Erin. Help me.’

  A nurse came bustling up. ‘Come along, Milly, it’s time to rest.’ She fiddled with Milly’s drip, and jerked her head at Geraldine to indicate it was time to go.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ Geraldine repeated as she stood up to leave.

  She hesitated to add the word ‘mum’. That would take some getting used to, just as Milly would have to learn to call her by her adopted name. Not knowing how to address one another was understandable, given that they didn’t know anything about each other. That first encounter had been a meeting of strangers. In Geraldine’s fantasy, she and her mother hugged. As she left the ward, she wished she had at least touched her mother’s hand, flesh on flesh. She walked away down a long corridor feeling somehow cheated. It didn’t help that Louise had warned her not to expect too much from a first meeting. When she reached the privacy of her car, she dropped her head in her hands and wept for her loss.

  37

  THE ATMOSPHERE IN the major incident room on Thursday was tense as they waited for the detective chief inspector to arrive. A couple of young constables who fancied themselves as wits vied with one another to raise a laugh.

  ‘Anyone would think someone had died,’ one of them ventured.

  ‘Looks like you shot yourself in the foot with that one,’ the other one quipped when no one even smiled.

  ‘Oh well, it was just a shot in the dark.’

  No one was amused by their clumsy routine. Several colleagues told them to shut up. Even Sam was morose. Geraldine was trying not to think about her sick mother and wondering how to lighten the depressed mood, when Adam strode in. Still energetic, he had lost his air of well-groomed elegance. His shoes gleamed, but his short hair was unkempt and his shirt was creased. His expression looked almost furtive as he glanced around the room.

  ‘You all know we’ve let Lenny go. He’ll be facing a charge of robbery. He admitted stealing property from David Lester’s corpse. But we can’t make the murder charge stick, not with what we’ve got. We need to move forward,’ he announced.

  An impatient sigh rippled round the room at his words. Any hope that the detective chief inspector had summoned them there to tell them something new vanished. This was going to be a futile pep talk. Although they had no proof Lenny had shot David, they knew he had been at the scene. Having admitted as much, he was still the only lead they had. In the absence of any other information, Adam wanted to continue working on the theory that Lenny was implicated in the murder, even if he had not actually pulled the trigger.

  He ordered another search of Lenny’s and Cynthia’s flats, and sent a team into the car repair yard where Lenny
had been hiding.

  ‘If the bins have been emptied since Saturday night, we need to search the dump,’ he added. ‘And what about his mother or his girlfriend? Could they have hidden the gun, or passed it on to someone else?’

  Various officers scurried off to carry out the detective chief inspector’s instructions with a new sense of purpose, now they had a focus for their efforts. Geraldine hid her dismay that Adam had no news for them. After he left, she waited a few minutes before following him to his office. Not knowing Adam very well, she wasn’t sure it would be wise to criticise him, but she had to voice her opinion. Resolutely, she knocked on his door, determined to be as tactful as she could.

  ‘Come in. Oh, it’s you, Geraldine. What is it?’

  ‘I just wanted to discuss something with you.’

  ‘Go ahead.’

  ‘Lenny was in custody on Saturday evening,’ she began, and hesitated.

  ‘Yes. We know that. What’s your point?’

  ‘So the second shooting can’t have had anything to do with Lenny, or with Gina or Cynthia, unless one of them went up to London on Saturday evening, taking the gun with them. And that means we’re going after the wrong man. I just think we’ve wasted enough time on this suspect.’

  Geraldine took a deep breath, aware that her concerns had tumbled out in a rush. So much for her decision to be diplomatic.

  Adam frowned. ‘And enough money,’ he added sharply.

  Geraldine carried on. ‘I think we’re looking in all the wrong places.’

  ‘Look, Geraldine, if we knew where the right places were, that’s where we’d be looking. We haven’t got a bloody clue where to look or what to do. You’ve seen what it’s like out there. They’re all convinced we’re never going to crack this one. We can’t just sit around doing nothing. Granted it could be a coincidence that Lenny turned up when he did, just after David was shot. But it seems odd that the killer didn’t steal the ring from David himself. We need to rule out the possibility that Lenny was working with this unknown killer. There’s still a chance Lenny could be our lead to whoever shot David and Luke. And at least it’s a possibility. We can’t do nothing.’