‘You need to take a chill pill, detective,’ he said. She could hear the laugh under his voice. ‘I’ll call her. But don’t hold your breath.’ The phone clattered down at his end.
‘Bastard,’ said Paula. She wondered if there was a way to circumvent Vice, but she couldn’t think of one. Not on a Saturday night with all her social services contacts tucked up in front of the telly with a takeaway curry and
Stacey watched Ambrose get into a huddle with DI Patterson. She was uneasy about his proposed angle of attack on Vance’s putative bolthole. She understood his desire to be the one to recapture Vance. They’d done all the groundwork, after all. It was only fair that they should get to front up the news reports, let their kids see them on the telly and be proud. What wouldn’t be so good would be if their way meant Vance slipped through the net. If that happened, Stacey had a funny feeling it might end up being her fault.
She picked up her phone and called her boss’s number. Even in her present state of mind, Carol was a better judge of operational matters than these very nice men who, with the best will in the world, hardly ever dealt with the level of stuff Bradfield’s MIT handled all the time. When Carol answered the phone, her voice sounded odd. Like she had a cold or something.
‘Hi, Stacey. Any news?’
Stacey reported her discovery of the Vinton Woods address, and what Ambrose was proposing. Carol listened without interrupting, then said, ‘I don’t trust Franklin either. He was completely sceptical about the idea that it might be our friend in the first place. Rather than have him go at it half-hearted, I think we should leave him right out of the loop for now.’ She paused for a moment. ‘I’m going up there. If I leave right now, I should make it ahead of the posse. I can figure out the lie of the land and see what the options are. Thanks for letting me know, Stacey.’
And she was gone. Stacey stared at the phone, not feeling in the least reassured. This was starting to feel like something that was headed full-speed ahead for disaster. And with Jacko Vance in the driving seat, the only guarantee was that there would be nothing half-hearted in what happened next.
49
When Stacey’s call had come through, Carol was almost back in command of herself. Exhausted and mortified though she was, she knew a weight inside her had shifted. She could pick herself off the floor and get a grip on the task in hand. Which was to stop Jacko Vance causing any more damage.
She’d stood up and stepped away from Betsy to speak to Stacey. So she’d already begun the process of separating herself from the two women. One thing she knew for sure was that she didn’t want them to know her plans just in case she’d been right about their loyalties. Carol ended the call and said, ‘I have to go.’
‘I don’t think you’re in a fit state to go anywhere,’ Betsy said, kindly rather than bossily.
‘I appreciate your concern,’ Carol said. ‘But I’m needed elsewhere. I have a team in Bradfield who need their commander. Your ex-husband isn’t the only person intent on destruction right now.’ She picked up her bag and ran a hand through her hair, feeling sweat on her forehead. She supposed she was feverish. It was hardly surprising after that outburst. ‘I can see myself out.’
She wasn’t sorry to get out of the room. Betsy had showed her the sort of kindness that disarms. And yet she’d been very cool about the human victim of Vance’s attack. Thinking about that offset the kindness, which suited her because Carol did not want to be disarmed, especially not where Micky Morgan was concerned. She remained unconvinced the woman was truly free of Vance. It didn’t matter whether it was charisma or fear that held her in thrall, Carol believed there was still something unresolved between them.
Outside, she sat in her car for a moment, gathering her thoughts. She was going to bring Vance down. His capture had her name on it. Nobody had more right to that moment than her. If Ambrose was putting a team together, he wouldn’t have left Worcester yet. She could beat him to it. She bet he wouldn’t drive all the way from Worcester to Vinton Woods with flashing lights and sirens. Neither Ambrose nor Patterson was gung-ho enough. She pulled the blue light out of her glove box and slapped it on the roof of her car and set it going, spitting gravel from her wheels as she took off.
She’d take Vance down tonight or die trying.
Tony wondered how Paula was getting on with the Vice team. They’d always been a law unto themselves, straddling the twilight zone between the respectable and the disreputable. Unless they developed a rapport with at least one segment of the group they policed, they couldn’t do their jobs. That rapport had always gone hand in hand with the easy, sleazy promises of corruption. And historically, a lot of Vice cops had gone to the bad, though not always in the predictable ways. Because they dealt with a perverted reality, their crimes had an unhealthy knack of being less than straightforward.
And Paula had history with them. He wondered whether guilt made them more inclined to help her, or if she reminded them of a period in their history they’d rather forget.
His phone rang, the screen saying ‘blocked’. He wondered whether it might be Vance, calling to gloat. But then he’d never been one of those who had to boast about their crimes. He didn’t kill because he craved attention. He did almost everything else in his life for that reason, but not the killing.
There was only one way to find out. Tony pressed a button and waited. ‘Dr Hill? Is that you?’ It was a woman’s voice, familiar but too tinny for him to identify.
‘Who is this?’
‘It’s Stacey Chen, Dr Hill.’
Well, that made sense. She was probably using some electronic scrambler to disguise her voice. That would fit with her general suspicion about the world around her. ‘How can I help you, Stacey? Well done on that Oklahoma website, by the way.’
‘It was just number crunching,’ she said dismissively. ‘Anyone could have done it with the right software.’
‘How are you getting on with tracing Kerry Fletcher? Has he shown up yet?’
‘I’ll be honest, it’s frustrating and I don’t like to be frustrated by computer systems. He’s not on the electoral roll or the council tax register. He’s not claiming benefit and I can’t find a fit in the right age group in medical records. Whoever he is, he’s been living under the radar.’
‘I can see how that would frustrate you.’
‘I’ll get there. Doctor, I’m not sure I should be ringing you. But I’m a bit worried and you’re the only person who can help, I think.’
