relationships among my officers. They’re distracting and sow the seeds for all kinds of mistakes and future difficulties, as you have discovered. And in the future, I would strongly suggest that you think again about continuing your relationship with DCI Banks.”
Did Gervaise really believe that Annie and Banks had got back together? Why? Had someone told her? A few moments ago Annie would have leaped out of her seat and throttled Gervaise at such words, but now she took it all in calmly. The superintendent had also known about Banks having a pint in the Cross Keys on the night of the murder. Who had told her about that? Was there a spy in their midst? Annie didn’t react.
“DI Cabbot?”
“Sorry,” said Annie. “I was miles away.”
“That’s very irresponsible of you. You come barging in here telling me I’m not doing my job properly, and the minute you realize you’re in the wrong, you start daydreaming.”
“It wasn’t that,” Annie said. “Are we finished here?”
“Not until I say we are.”
“Ma’am.”
“This other business. Kelly Soames.”
“It’s not other business,” said Annie. “It’s all connected.”
“What do you mean?”
“I defended Kelly Soames’s sexual mores so you attacked mine. It’s connected.”
“I thought we’d left that behind.”
“Look, you want me to subject the poor girl to the ordeal of her father finding out she’d had a sexual relationship with Nick Barber, and I said I’d given her some assurances that wouldn’t happen.”
“Those assurances weren’t yours to give.”
“I’m aware of that. Even so, you can hardly attack me for wanting to stand by my word.”
“Admirable as that may seem, it’s not workable here. This job isn’t about saving your conscience and keeping your promises. I want that girl confronted with what happened in the presence of her father, and if you won’t do it I’ll find someone who will.”
“What is it with you? Are you a sadist or something?”
Gervaise’s lips narrowed in a nasty smile. “I’m a professional detective just doing her job,” she said. “Which is something you should take a little more seriously. Sympathy for victims is all very well, in its place, but remember that Nicholas Barber is the victim here, not Kelly Soames.”
“Not yet,” said Annie.
“Insubordination will get you nowhere.”
“No, but it feels good.” Annie stood up to leave. “There’s obviously no further point talking to you, so if you’re thinking of taking action against me, do it. I don’t care. Either shit or get off the pot.”
Gervaise’s face fell. “What did you say?”
Annie walked toward the door. “You heard me,” she said.
“Right,” said Superintendent Gervaise. “I want you on statement reading as of now. And send in DS Templeton.”
“Yes, ma’am,” said Annie, and shut the door softly behind her as she left.
Chadwick went in with the Springfield Mount team because that was the house where Yvonne had been accosted by McGarrity. Two other teams, also with search warrants, carried out simultaneous raids on Bayswater Terrace and Carberry Place. They waited until well after midnight, by which time Yvonne was fast asleep in bed. As any prior announcement of their presence was likely to result in drugs being flushed down the toilet, they were authorized to enter by force.
The streets were deserted, most of the houses in darkness apart from the lonely light of an insomniac here and there, or a student burning the midnight oil; a sheen of rain reflected the amber streetlights on the pavements and tarmac. Directly across from Springfield Mount was a small triangular park, locked up for the night, wedged between two merging main roads. At the end of the street, across the road, loomed the local grammar school, all in darkness now, with its bell tower and high windows.
The unmarked police car pulled up at the end of the street behind a patrol car. There were five officers altogether: Chadwick, Bradley and three uniforms, one of whom would guard the back. Geoff Broome was leading the Carberry team, and his colleague, Martin Young, the raid on Bayswater Terrace. They didn’t expect any resistance or problems, except perhaps from McGarrity, if he had his knife.
Chadwick could hear music coming from the front room, and candlelight flickered behind the curtains. Good, someone was at home. Surprise was of the essence now. When everyone was in position, Chadwick gave a nod to the uniform with the battering ram and one smash was enough to break the lock and send the door banging back on its hinges.
As arranged, the two uniformed constables dashed upstairs to secure the upper level and Chadwick and Bradley entered the front room. The officer on guard at the back would take care of the kitchen.
In the living room, Chadwick found three people lying on the floor in advanced stages of intoxication – marijuana, judging by the smell that even two smoldering joss sticks couldn’t mask. Candles flickered, and dreadful wailing electric guitar music came from the record player, a kangaroo with a pain in its testicles, by the sound of it, Chadwick thought.
It didn’t look as if their arrival had interrupted any deep conversations, or any conversations at all for that matter, as they all seemed beyond speech, and one of them could only manage a quick “What the fuck?” before Chadwick announced who he was and told them the police were there to search the premises for drugs and for a knife that may have been used in the committing of a homicide. Bradley switched on the electric light and turned the music off.
Things didn’t look so bad, Chadwick realized with surprise, not what he had expected, just three scruffy long- haired kids lounging around stoned, listening to what passed for music. There was no orgy; nobody was crawling around naked and drooling on the floor or committing outrageous sex acts. Then he saw the LP cover leaning against the wall. It showed a girl with long wavy red hair and full red lips. She was naked from the belly button up, and she couldn’t have been more than eleven or twelve. In her hands she cradled a chrome model airplane. What kind of perverts was he dealing with? Chadwick wondered. And one of them had been seeing his daughter. This was where Yvonne would have been tonight, had McGarrity not scared her off. This was what she would have been doing. She had been here before, done this, and that set his teeth on edge.
Bradley took their names: Steve Morrison, Todd Crowley and Jacqueline McNeil. They all seemed docile and sheepish enough. Chadwick took Steve aside to a corner of the room and gripped the front of his shirt in his fist. “Whatever comes of this,” he hissed, “I want you to stop seeing my daughter. Understand?”
Steve turned pale. “Who? Who am I supposed to be seeing?”
“Her name’s Yvonne. Yvonne Chadwick.”
“Shit, I didn’t know she…”
“Just stay away from her. Okay?”
Steve nodded, and Chadwick let him go. “Right,” he said, turning to the others. “Where’s McGarrity?”
“Dunno,” said Todd Crowley. “He was here earlier. Maybe he’s upstairs.”
“What were you doing?”
“Nothing. Just listening to music.”
Chadwick gestured toward the LP cover. “Where did you get that filth?”
“What?”
“The naked child. You realize we could probably prosecute you under the Obscene Publications Act, don’t you?”
“That’s art, man,” Crowley protested. “You can buy it at any record shop. Obscenity’s in the eye of the beholder.”
There were greasy fish-and-chip wrappers and newspapers on the floor beside empty bottles of beer. Bradley went over to the ashtray and extracted the remains of a number of hand-rolled cigarettes he identified by their
