Cold fingers touched her neck and Felicity forced herself not to flinch as she held her breath and Felicity closed her mind. If she shut everything off, maybe she’d survive.
Tar man replied, ‘Leave that to me and Jase. We’ve got the dump spot all sorted, like. We won’t let you down. Not again.’
‘They both need to be disposed of. But separately. She needs to be dumped where she won’t be found for months – the middle of the moors or somewhere. And him …’ Xavier kicked the prone man. ‘Finish him. And make sure you use the usual forensic measures – yeah?’
Felicity recognized the voice itself but couldn’t place it. Without a face to go with it, she just couldn’t remember. She couldn’t risk looking, had to play unconscious. Keep her eyes closed and focus on keeping still. Not that it would do her any good, not with a bullet through her brain. So much for channelling Nikki fucking Parekh!
Citrusy man snorted and then the van lifted again. ‘Okay, I’m counting on you. Get on with it.’
The click of a semi-automatic pistol being cocked echoed in Felicity’s ears. Her breath caught in her throat and it was all she could do not to scream out loud. She sent up a final prayer that Stevie would be all right. She needed to believe that Stevie would be all right … especially now. She hadn’t quite finished her frantic prayers when the shot fired out, extra loud in the van … followed by silence.
Chapter 8
Felicity Springer lived in Eccleshill, just behind The Oddfellows Arms on Harrogate Road. As Nikki turned onto Springer’s street, the sight of the pub made Nikki realize that she and Sajid still hadn’t found a new pub to make their local. Although The Mannville Arms was supposedly opening again under new management, Nikki doubted that she’d ever be able to set foot in it again. Not after everything that had happened. A year on and still the very thought of the place made her shudder. Dreams of rats chasing her through the underground tunnels soon morphed into a human assailant and even now, Nikki often woke up drenched in sweat, her breath ragged, her heart thudding. Marcus, half asleep, would stretch out an arm and pull her to his chest, holding her tight till she felt safe enough to drift off to sleep again.
Now wasn’t the time to think about that though. She’d something far worse on her mind and the very thought of it chilled her to the marrow. Her mum had confided in her once that her biggest fear was the thought of two police officers landing on her doorstep to deliver just the sort of news Nikki was going to deliver now. The chances were extremely slim, she told her mother, yet history told her that you could never be too sure of that.
Her clapped-out old Zafira felt overcrowded with Archie rammed into the passenger seat beside her as she pulled up onto the kerb a few feet from number thirty-six. The car’s erratic heating system had dried their snow-covered outer garments, leaving a damp smell lingering in the air. The fact that Archie kept fidgeting and practising his words under his breath was distracting and Nikki wished the whole thing was over. There were, after all, only so many ways you could tell a relative that their loved one had been abducted and was injured, possibly dead. Apart from that, Nikki was still angry with Archie, but she had to get over that before they approached the house.
‘What do we know about The Spaniel, Archie? She married or what?’ Although Nikki and Springer had worked in the same building for years, Nikki knew nothing about the other woman’s home life. Truth was, Nikki avoided Springer as much as possible and she suspected Springer did the same. They were more enemies than friends and that niggled at Nikki. It was difficult enough to be present when a relative was notified of something like this, but having to offer insincere platitudes about how popular Springer was and what a good officer she was went against the grain. She’d do it though. It was part of the job. She was just relieved that Archie was the one doing the talking. All she’d need to do was to nod in the right place and look suitably solemn.
‘Don’t know much.’ Archie’s voice was gruff. ‘Records say she’s married, but nobody, not even DC Bashir kens anything about her. Next of kin is down as her spouse Stevie Blake. Shit, Nikki. How am I going tae dae this? What if I get ma proverbials in a knot? It’s ages since I’ve delivered a …’
He hesitated, and Nikki knew he had been about to say death notice. She turned off the engine, leaned across and squeezed his arm. ‘We’ve no evidence to say she’s dead yet. You know that. We need to keep it upbeat. Get the lay of the land. She might have kids, for all we know.’ Although the very thought of Springer deigning to go through childbirth seemed very unlikely to Nikki. ‘Tell you what, Archie. I’ll do it.’
Archie’s lips twitched as he extricated himself from his seat belt, opened the door and stepped onto the road. ‘Since when have you been Ms Sensitive, Nikita Parekh?’ he said over the top of the car when Nikki had emerged from the other side. ‘Nae chance, hen. I’ll dae it myself.’
Nikki opened her mouth to argue and then sighed. Archie was right, she was definitely not Ms Sensitive. But she could make the tea. ‘Okay, you win.’ Then, grumbling as she joined him on the pavement, added, ‘That’s why I said Sajid would have been a better choice.’
Together they opened the gate and walked up to the door. Springer’s house was a modern-built semi with a drive with enough room for two cars. It was occupied by a sporty-looking vehicle that Nikki assumed would be well above Springer’s pay grade, and she wondered what exactly Springer’s partner did for a living. Parallel to the drive was a paved area with a few plant pots and some covered garden furniture. It was strange to think of the missing woman as a person and not just a colleague she didn’t get on with. No matter what her personal feelings for Springer were, she felt sorry for the poor sod – her husband – whose life they were about to disrupt. The lights were on, but the curtains were only half shut and before Archie and Nikki reached the front door it was wrenched open by a striking woman. With a mane of red hair cascading over her shoulders, she was at least a foot taller than Nikki. And she was pregnant.
Archie, eyes automatically drawn to the woman’s belly, coughed. ‘I’m DCI Archie Hegley and this is DS Parekh. We work with DS Springer, can we come in?’
The woman looked from Archie to Nikki and then back again, before her hand flew up to her mouth. Without uttering a word, she stepped back from the door and ushered them inside. Exchanging a quick glance with Archie, Nikki stepped through the door, taking care to wipe her feet on the mat before she followed the woman along the cream-coloured carpet and into a living room that smelled of roses and something spicy. Clearly this woman was at home here.
Once inside, the woman gestured to the sofa and Nikki sat, only to almost be catapulted back off when Archie’s weight descended on the other side. The woman stood before a flickering wood burning stove, and Nikki’s glance was drawn to a framed photograph on the wall above the fireplace.
Wringing her hands, the woman finally spoke. ‘Has something happened to her?’
Archie cleared his throat and began to speak. ‘I need to speak to Felicity’s, I mean DS Springer’s hu—’
Realizing the mistake her boss was about to make, Nikki jumped to her feet, and putting her arm round the other woman’s shoulder, guided her to a chair. ‘You must be Felicity’s wife … Stevie, is it? We need to talk to you.’
Nikki glanced pointedly from Archie to the photograph of Felicity Springer and her wife in matching wedding dresses, arms round each other, love shining from their eyes, hoping he’d get the hint. Nikki had never seen The Spaniel look so human. Discarding that thought, she focused on the woman before her but before she had a chance to speak the woman said, ‘I know something’s happened. Fliss should’ve been home ages ago.’
Fliss? For a moment Nikki was confused then she caught herself. First Felicity, now Fliss? Really? Today was throwing up all sorts of surprises about DS Springer.
‘I left her a voicemail earlier, but haven’t heard back from her. Even accounting for the weather, she should’ve been home ages ago and she’s not answering her phone. It’s so not like her.’ She gripped Nikki’s hands in both of hers. ‘Please tell me she’s all right.’
Nikki swallowed, glanced at Archie and cursed inwardly, wishing she’d paid more attention to his practice attempts in the car. Archie nodded at her giving her permission to break the news. Nikki broke out in a sweat. Trying for her most sensitive tone, she removed her hands from the other woman’s and crouched beside her. ‘It seems that on the way home from the conference in Wakefield, DS …’ She cleared her throat. ‘I mean Felicity … Fliss saw something untoward in the van in front and followed it. She alerted the police by phoning 999 and we were able to ascertain her location using the What3words app.’ Nikki swallowed, wishing the other woman would stop staring at her like her life depended on her. ‘By the time we reached her, there had been a car crash and DS, I mean Felicity, was absent from the scene, as was the vehicle she was pursuing.’
Stevie held Nikki’s gaze for what felt like hours before responding. ‘But she gave you the reg number, didn’t she? You’ve traced the reg number and you’ll soon find the vehicle. They’ve not hurt her … tell me they’ve not hurt her.’
Archie moved behind them and Nikki prayed he would answer, but he remained silent. Up to me then, is it? ‘The thing is, Stevie. DS Sp … Felicity couldn’t give us the vehicle registration. She told the emergency services operator that it was covered in some way and unfortunately when we got to her car, there was evidence that Spri … I mean, Felicity was hurt.’
Tears began to roll down Stevie’s cheeks and with a sigh, Nikki stood up and relocated herself to the chair arm, putting her arms around the now crying woman. ‘We’re doing all we can to find her and the initial analysis indicates that the blood loss is non-fatal.’
‘Blood loss? Was she hurt in the crash?’
‘No … not in the crash.’ Nikki wished she didn’t have to say the words, but there was no other way. She had to be honest. Stevie had to be prepared. ‘We think she may have been shot.’
As Stevie collapsed in her arms, Nikki held her, looking over the other woman’s head to Archie, who sat motionless on the couch, hands trapped between his knees, an expression Nikki had never seen before on his face.
What the hell wasn’t Archie telling her?
Chapter 9
The atmosphere in the incident room after Nikki and Archie had left to speak to Springer’s partner was calm, but still a heaviness lingered, as if warning Sajid that things were going to get worse – much worse. The other two officers who’d been working on their computers had disappeared. Whether they’d signed out or just gone for a break, Sajid wasn’t sure, but the quiet was a welcome change from the tension radiating from both his partner and his boss.
Flinging his pen across the table, Sajid stretched his arms up, trying, and failing, to release the knot at the bottom of his spine and ease the taut sensation in his shoulders. He was fed up with Nikki. It had been obvious that she was keeping something from him earlier at the crime scene and equally obvious that she and Archie had disagreed over something before they left, yet she just shook her head at him when he asked. With her lips tightly pinched, she put her socks and boots back on before heading out of the room with a curt. ‘Tell him I’ll wait for him at my car.’
Now, looking at the crime board, he was aware that he was prevaricating. It was time to go home. There was nothing else they could do now and anything that came in later would be caught by the night shift. Home meant Langley and he wasn’t entirely sure he was ready to face him just yet. He sighed before logging off his computer and tidying up his desk. It was okay for Langley. He’d been brought up in a very different family to Sajid’s. Langley’s family couldn’t care less about his sexuality. They supported it even and that made him comfortable in his own skin. Saj was only too aware that he lived a sort of double life. One where he was always slightly conscious of where he was, whose company he was in and who knew about his private life. He was only truly relaxed when at home with Langley, at Nikki’s or on the job.
However, Langley was getting pissed off – no, that was too strong a word. Langley didn’t do pissed off, no, it was more exasperation, with being, in his words, ‘the hidden partner’. Saj couldn’t blame him really. If Langley were with someone other than him, he could be as ‘out’ as he wanted. The mere thought of Langley being with someone else made Sajid shudder. He couldn’t bear it if his boyfriend got so fed up with him that he dumped him. But what was the alternative? Come out to his parents and family? Yeah, he knew exactly how that would go down – lead balloons would be an understatement. The entire family would be horrified, the extended family and the community would be consulted and Saj would be evicted from the family … if not worse. It was the worse he was worried about. Although his parents were mild-mannered, there were members of his family from Birmingham who’d been part of the demonstrations against the No Outsiders education programme, outside the primary schools in their area. Mouthing off, using the Qur’an to justify their bigotry towards gay rights without even fully understanding what the school curriculum is about. He doubted they’d be receptive to his sexuality and the worst thing was, some of them were already angry that he’d become a copper. This would be the last straw.
Although, he was concerned about his own welfare, that wasn’t his priority. Saj was more than able to look after himself, but Langley was a different matter. Langley was a bloody doctor for God’s sake, not a fighter. Hell, Langley was so oblivious to his surroundings, unless of course it was the damn mortuary, that he wouldn’t even see them coming. Did Saj really want to expose the man he loved to that? The only options available to him were to either break up with Langley or confide all of his fears and convince his boyfriend to keep their relationship on the low down. After all, there wasn’t a huge distance between Bradford and Dewsbury. All he needed was some uncle or auntie spotting him with Langley and putting two and two together. He supposed they could move, but that was like giving in, giving up.
The message he needed to get over to Langley was that he wasn’t ashamed of their relationship or his own sexuality. That was the fear he saw lurking in Langley’s eyes all the time; that he was ashamed of them.
Grabbing his coat from the hook by the door, he left the office. If he was being one hundred per cent honest with himself, he’d admit that a lifetime of anti-gay rhetoric did cloud his happiness. If his parents could be as accepting as Langley’s were, things would be better. They’d like Langley. He was sure of that. What wasn’t to like – other than the fact that he wasn’t female, that is?
Deciding that he couldn’t put things off any longer, that he had to make some sort of attempt to talk to Langley, try to make him understand, he swung by the One Stop in Heaton and grabbed a bottle of wine. Langley had cooked, but not knowing when Saj would return home, he’d texted to let him know he’d eaten and that his food could be reheated when he got home. The thought of Langley’s Yorkshire puds and roast beef would normally have Saj salivating, but tonight his stomach felt fragile. What was wrong with him? Too much time spent with Nikki, that’s what it was. He’d absorbed her inability to confide, her inability to articulate her feelings to those she loved. He was normally the one who was more in touch with his feelings. It was what he was good at – talking to witnesses, making them feel at ease – so why the hell was this so difficult?
By the time he arrived in the underground car park and got out of his Jag his nerves were fried. So much depended on this and the last thing he wanted was to mess it up. All too soon, the lift whooshed him up to his floor and then he was at the front door of their flat. As he pushed the door open, the sound of some documentary or other drifted through from the front room. Taking his time, he hung his coat on the coat stand and walked through to the living room where Langley lay sprawled on the couch, so engrossed in his programme that he didn’t hear Saj enter.
Saj looked at him for a moment. He was wearing the jumper Saj had given him for his birthday and he’d clearly just had a shower as his hair was still damp and flopping over his forehead. What a geek! Despite his anxiety, a smile tugged Saj’s lips and the knowledge that he’d do anything to protect this man barrelled into him like a rhino on speed.
He walked over, placed his hands round Langley’s shoulders and plonked the red wine in his lap, savouring the way Langley’s eyes crinkled when they saw him. The big discussion could wait for now.
Chapter 10
Nikki needed to unwind after the emotionally charged business of telling the heavily pregnant Stevie Blake what had happened to her wife. She forced her shoulders to relax as she drove round the Listerhills Estate streets. This was something she often did before heading home for the evening. Keeping an eye on her patch as she drove had two benefits. One, she kept her finger on the pulse and two, she didn’t take as much of her work home with her as usual.
Fliss! For God’s sake, Fliss? Who’d have thought jagged, cold Springer would be called Fliss? She frowned. Who’d have thought jagged, cold Springer would have a pregnant wife? Shit, Nikki had suspected she ate children for breakfast but that whole scenario was turned on its head. Now that she’d met Springer’s pregnant partner and liked her, it was even more imperative to get Springer home. She was invested in this now.
Her headlights picked up figures scurrying into the darkness of the ginnels. That was something else to worry about. Franco and Deano, the dealers she’d got rid of last year, may be gone, but there was always another rat ready to pop up from the sewers … no wonder she hated the vermin so much. Deliberately, she turned off the side street and into the cobbled back alley that separated two lines of terraces, and trawled down it in second gear. It was three streets over from her own home yet this was always one she kept an eye on. It backed onto one edge of the Rec and was prime land for drug deals, besides, there had been a worrying increase in machete attacks nearby in the last two weeks. Where there were machete attacks, Nikki’s experience told her there were also Class As, other weapons and gullible kids to get caught up in the bravado and cheap sell of a Lamborghini, a snazzy wristwatch and posh mobile. She’d spoken to the drug squad before and although they were keeping an eye open and supposedly receiving intel about the new kingpin, nothing seemed to be confirmed. Well, nothing her contact, Joe Drummond, was willing to share. In the meantime, there was an air of expectancy, like a toxic cloud hovering over her estate and Nikki wasn’t going to stand for that. She reached the bottom of the ginnel, hoping her exhaust wouldn’t fall off – she’d no spare cash to replace that, not if she was going to replace the battery – and waited, looking to her right and left.
A figure dodged out from a back yard further down, didn’t even look in Nikki’s direction and loped off down the ginnel, dodging the puddles, shoulders hunched and hood up. As he dipped under one of the few still-working streetlamps she cursed. ‘Fuck’s sake Haqib. Do you never learn?’ and she was out of her car, leaving the engine running and her door open as she darted after him. ‘Haqib?’
He hesitated, seemed to consider whether to speed up or turn and face the music. Thankfully, for him, the latter instinct won.
‘Whassup, Aunt Nikki?’ He splayed his hands in front of him, sulky mouth drooping, attitude in the way he hunched his shoulders.
‘What you doing out at this time? It’s after ten and you, I believe, are still grounded after Fingergate.’ She was well aware that she was being harsh. The lad’s finger had been amputated and reattached nearly a year ago. Sometimes though, it paid to remind him of what his last brush with drugs had resulted in.
Haqib winced and flexed his little finger. ‘That’s a bit tight, innit? That were last year. I’ve not been grounded for months now.’
Hands on hips, Nikki inhaled slowly. ‘I’ll tell you what’s tight, Haqib Parekh. Skipping out of the house behind your mum’s back – that’s what’s tight. Breaking your word – that’s tight too, hanging out here—’
‘Yeah, yeah, I get it. That’s tight too.’ Haqib mimicked his auntie’s tone.
Nikki reached over and gently cuffed the back of his head, ‘No, that’s not bloody tight … that’s stupid. S.T.U.P.I.D. Stupid – got it?’
‘I ain’t doing drugs, you know. I’m not that mental.’
Nikki raised an eyebrow, not caring how harsh she was being. Haqib worried her. A young Asian lad trying to be cocky, trying to be a big man, was a worry for her. Her sister Anika, Haqib’s mum, seemed content to leave it up to Nikki to sort her son out. Not that she had a reliable good male role model to offer Haqib. But that was another story. She studied the bloom of red that spread across his cheeks. That was guilt all right, but not the sort of blasé, fast-talking guilt she was used to from her nephew. ‘So, spill!’
A voice from behind her had Nikki spinning on her heel.
‘It’s me he came to see, Mrs Parekh.’
The girl was tall – taller than Haqib, skinnier than was healthy, blonde with blue eyes and a dimple in the middle of her chin. At present her eyes looked worried as she darted glances towards Haqib and each hand worried at the sleeve of her jacket. The girl looked familiar, but it took a minute for Nikki to place her and when she did, she groaned inwardly. Fuck’s sake Haqib, if it’s not drugs, it’s inappropriate relationships. ‘You’re Glass’s sister, aren’t you?’
The girl nodded. ‘Michelle – Chelle-to-my-mates.’
The words ran together and for a second Parekh thought she was telling her she had a different surname to her brother. Chelle-to-her-mates indeed. Who did she think she was – bloody royalty?
‘Haq isn’t doing drugs. He knows it’s for idiots, don’t you, Haq?’
Haqib, mouth hanging open, looking exactly like an idiot himself at that precise moment, nodded. Lovestruck, that’s what he is. But did he have to be lovestruck over Adam Glass’s sister? Of all the girls on the estate, her nuisance of a nephew had to go for the one most likely to have him losing another digit – if not something worse.
‘So …’ Nikki chewed her lip, trying to come up with something auntie-ish to say, but could only manage, ‘You’re both bloody stupid. Do you really think your white-supremacist brother, office holder in Albion First, Yorkshire’s answer to the EDL, is going to sit back and let you date an Asian boy … a Muslim boy?’
Michelle’s eyes darted to the ground and then almost immediately straight back up again. She met Nikki’s gaze. ‘We love each other, me and Haq. We’re like Romeo and Juliet, aren’t we, Haq?’ Her face flushed, her lips turned up, her eyes full of love as she looked at her boyfriend.
Looking a little embarrassed, Haqib managed a mumbled, ‘It’s not like I’m proper Muslim anyway, is it? Dun’t go to mosque or owt.’
Nikki somehow managed to swallow her snort of laughter, but one look at Haqib’s hurt expression told her that her face had given her away. The lad was right, he wasn’t Muslim, apart from when Anika decided to try to impress her married lover and Haqib’s dad. ‘Look, I’m sorry. Really, I am. I can remember being your age and thinking I was in—’
‘Told you she wouldn’t understand and if she dun’t understand, Chelle, then my mum won’t stand for it either. We’re doomed.’ Haqib looked ferocious, his eyes flashing, and Nikki sighed. There was no need for her to be such an arse. No need at all. Especially when she should be pleased that Haqib wasn’t involved with the druggies. Still, going out with Adam Glass’s sister wasn’t a whole lot safer for him. Glass was an upstart thug … but he was an upstart thug with friends – organized friends!
