‘’Fraid not. Bruised — but he plays Sunday football for a side out at Wisbech. One of his mates says he took a knock last week.’
Shaw closed his eyes, trying to remember the question he’d asked and had no answer to. When he opened them again George Valentine was still there, the bedside light on, and the DS had a new sticker on his lapel: Alcoholics Anonymous.
‘You advertising now?’ he asked, nodding at the badge.
‘Your wife was here — she’ll be back in an hour.’
‘Why were you there?’ asked Shaw, knowing he was picking up where he’d stopped.
‘I followed Cosyns home from the Norfolk Arena. I’ve been tracking him, seeing what came up. I didn’t know where they kept the trailer. It seemed like a loose thread. I haven’t got a life, so I thought I’d tie it up. Mosse left the arena first — in a BMW soft-top.’
‘What does Warren say?’ asked Shaw. Detective Chief Superintendent Max Warren had made it clear to both of them that the Tessier case was a closed file. He’d clearly failed to make it clear enough.
‘When he stopped shouting he was pretty good about it,’ said Valentine. ‘He said if we were going to work on the case it was probably about time we got some fucking results. Because if we’re right, Mosse is clearly prepared to kill to make sure he never pays the price for what he did to that kid.’ Blood flushed Valentine’s face.
Shaw went to speak but Valentine held up a hand. ‘Let me do the pitch — I’ve done it once with Warren. He went
He put a cigarette, unlit, between his teeth.
‘It’s a cold case — an ice box. We ain’t gonna get any fresh forensics. No one’s going to tell us anything we don’t know. We’ve got to move on from Tessier. Find a new way in.
‘There were four of them — Mosse, Cosyns, Robins and Voyce. Once the case against Mosse collapsed they went their own ways: Voyce to New Zealand, Robins into crime — he went to Ashworth in the end, a secure psychiatric unit, and then to Bellevue, here, on the edge of Lynn. That left Cosyns and Mosse in town. Mates — whether Mr Up-and-Coming wanted it or not. That’s the crucial bit, ’cos Cosyns isn’t in that league — divorced, a job keeping a hearse on the road. It doesn’t take a lot to see what’s happened. Cosyns leans on Mosse for help — just a bit perhaps, then more. Because he isn’t gonna starve, is he — not while Mosse needs his silence. I’ve been asking a few questions about our Mr Mosse and it seems he’s no ordinary solicitor. He’s studying for the Bar. Should be called later this year. That’ll treble his earning power — there’s already a new house, the new BMW, kids at private school. Warms your heart — just a snotty-nosed kid from the Westmead. So he’s got all that to lose.
‘Then we turn up, fresh as daisies, trying to reopen the case.’ Valentine ran a finger round the tight collar of his grey shirt. ‘I had a look round Cosyns’s house. He’s been getting money from Mosse — cheques at a grand a pop. He came home while I was there. It’s not black-mail
Out in the corridor a metal tray hit the floor like a cymbal.
Shaw didn’t say a word so Valentine ploughed on. ‘My guess is that Cosyns pushed his luck. Upped the ante. If we were that close to him, he let Mosse feel the heat too. Mosse doesn’t like the heat. He leaves the Norfolk Arena first, gets back, parks, and waits for Cosyns. I reckon it isn’t the first time he’s killed to stop us getting to the truth.’
‘Go on,’ said Shaw, aware now that his DS had been running his own private investigation. But he was hardly in any position to show his anger, or a sense of betrayal.
‘I checked it out. Robins died in Bellevue in May this year — cut his wrists open with a brand-new Swiss Army knife. The local nick got involved because there was a suggestion he had help — a visitor, day before they found him. Name and address left at the front gate were false. I showed the orderly a picture of Mosse. He couldn’t be sure — or wouldn’t. But it’s possible.’
Shaw closed his eyes. ‘Why?’
‘Don’t know,’ said Valentine. ‘But I do know whose name pops up in the visitors’ book those last few months — Alex Cosyns’s. What’d they talk about? Did he tell Mosse about the visits — turning the screw?’
A nurse came and put a tea cup in front of Shaw which he couldn’t pick up.
‘So that leaves Jimmy Voyce,’ said Valentine, holding up a piece of paper on which was written what looked like a short piece of code.
‘I found this scrawled on a note on Cosyns’s desk at his house. It’s a flight number. Stansted, last week, incoming from Istanbul, a connection back to Auckland. Passenger list includes James Anthony Voyce. Why the return trip? My guess is they’d talked about money. And how easy it is to get, if you know the right people.’
‘Where’s Voyce now?’
Valentine smiled, and Shaw realized how unusual that was. He looked twenty years younger.
‘Fuck knows. But Warren’s lifted the ban — said it didn’t seem to make much difference what he said anyway. The Cosyns case is open, so’s Tessier’s. We’re on it — with one condition.’
‘Which is?’
‘We talk to each other.’
‘About what?’
‘About tracking down Voyce, and making sure we’re there when he tries to put the frighteners on Robert Mosse — because if he does do that, and that’s got to be why he’s here, then there’s a really good chance our man will kill again.’
‘Try to kill again,’ said Shaw, closing his eyes. He heard Valentine get up, open a window, and strike a match. A wave falling, exploding around him in white surf, was the first image in a dream. But he woke almost instantly, with a heart-stopping jerk, because he’d felt those hands again, locked round his throat, trying to take his life away.
The next time he opened his eyes Fran was standing there holding Cosyns’s terrier dog — the one he’d taken
His wife was behind his daughter, trying to smile. ‘George had it in the car when he came round to tell us what had happened. It’s ancient.’ Lena shook her head.
She came to the bed and laid a hand on his forehead. ‘George said Fran could have it, if it was OK with you.’
Valentine had gone. Shaw was too horrified to speak.
‘Is it, Dad?’ asked Fran. ‘Is it all right?’
