‘The panic attacks,’ he said eventually. ‘Are they connected? Do they have anything to do with… all this?’
‘I would imagine so,’ said Marina. ‘Displacement. Because your childhood trauma was repressed, you’ve never dealt with it, never been able to confront it head on. It’s always been there; it’s just attacked you in different ways.’
‘And the job doesn’t help,’ said Don.
Phil nodded. His body seemed to be relaxing more now, the adrenalin leaching out of his system. He was starting to feel weary. Another question occurred to him.
‘The hotel. Why did I think I’d been there before?’
‘Because you had,’ said Don. ‘You used to live there. That hotel was where the Garden used to be.’
Phil sighed. Rubbed his forehead with the back of his hand. Silence fell once more.
Eventually Don spoke.
‘I’m… sorry, son. I didn’t… didn’t know what to do for the best. Me or your mother.’ He corrected himself. ‘Eileen.’
Phil was now beyond tiredness. He managed a weary smile. ‘It’s OK,’ he said. ‘I can still call her mother.’
Don nodded. Gave a small smile. Looked at Marina, who warily returned it.
‘It’s going to take me an awfully long time to come to terms with this,’ Phil said. ‘A hell of a long time. But I’ll try my best.’ He dredged up another smile. ‘Something Marina always says. Family is more than biology.’ He sighed. ‘Yeah… ’
He felt Marina’s hand on his. ‘I think it’s time for bed,’ she said.
Phil, almost asleep by now, just nodded.
84
Mickey keyed himself in, opened the office door, entered. He had left Lynn’s early, stopped off at his flat to change clothes and grab a quick shower. She had said he could have one at her flat, even offered to share it with him. He had been tempted. Very tempted. But had refused in the end. Night-time lust was one thing. But the morning mindset was something else. He even thought he sensed relief from Lynn that he had declined. Obviously she took her work seriously too. Something else they had in common.
As he had driven away, he had felt guilty for some reason. Not because of anything he had done, or that Lynn had done – he had thoroughly enjoyed himself. They both had. He kept re-enacting scenes over and over in his head, replaying the best bits – and there were many – on the drive to work. And in the shower before that. But something was niggling at him. Something still felt wrong.
He knew what it was, but he didn’t want to admit it to himself. He had slept with someone who was involved – even tangentially – in the investigation he was working on. And he could have compromised that investigation by doing so.
Pulling through the gates of the station and parking up, he tried to banish those thoughts from his head. Concentrate on the good bits instead. They should see him through the day. Or at least until he could see Lynn again. Not that they had made arrangements, but he was sure it was only a matter of time. It had to be.
Entering the office with takeaway coffee, he was immediately hit by the activity. The noise, the bustle. It hadn’t been like this the day before. What had happened? Had the investigation made a breakthrough in some way? And if it had, why hadn’t someone let him know about it? He looked round, hoping someone could tell him, bring him up to speed. Wondering what it was he should know.
He didn’t have to wait long. Glass had seen him enter, was striding towards him. Face like a lightning-struck tree.
‘Where the bloody hell have you been?’ Said loud enough to make others stop what they were doing, stare at Mickey.
Mickey frowned. ‘Sorry?’
Glass crossed the office, reached him. ‘I said where the hell have you been? Don’t you answer your phone?’
‘Yeah, course. It never rang. It’s been on all night.’ His eyes darted away from Glass’s face, not wanting to be caught out in a lie. He knew he had turned it off the night before, at Lynn’s insistence. Something else to feel guilty about, if he allowed it. But he had turned it back on before leaving her flat this morning. And there’d been nothing showing. No missed calls, no voicemail, no messages. Except one from Stuart that he hadn’t had time to check. He took the phone out of his pocket, held it up for Glass to see. ‘No new messages, no missed calls, no voicemails. See? Nothing.’
Glass seemed to be temporarily lost for words. He stared at Mickey, narrowing his eyes. ‘You’d better not be lying to me, DS Philips.’
‘Why would I lie? What do I have to gain from that? I showed you the phone; nobody called me. Or if they did, they didn’t have the right number.’
Glass stared once more, unblinking, as if that was all the answer Mickey was going to get.
Mickey had to ask. ‘So what’s happened? What have I missed?’
Glass gave a snort masquerading as a laugh. ‘What haven’t you missed, you mean. Briefing room. Five minutes.’
He made to walk away. Mickey stopped him. ‘Where’s Phil?’
A smile twitched at the corners of Glass’s mouth. ‘Suspended, DS Philips. If you’d left your phone on, you would know.’ He walked off.
Mickey stared after him, mouth open, wondering whether he had just heard him right.
Phil? Suspended?
Shaking his head, he made his way to his desk. Sat down, still trying to get his head round the news.
He took a sip of his coffee.
Was struck by another thought. If they’d been calling him all night, even though his phone had been switched off, where had all the calls gone?
He shook his head, tried to get his mind in gear, prepare for the morning briefing.
85
Marina watched Mickey enter the briefing room. He looked over at her, frowning, quizzical. Questions in his face.
He knows about Phil, she thought. Knows he’s been suspended and wants to know why. But he doesn’t know everything. He doesn’t know the night I’ve just had…
Mickey sat down, still watching her. She returned his look, not able to say anything, not even sure what she was supposed to be conveying. She didn’t smile.
Glass entered. Brisk, businesslike. Placed a folder on the desk, stood before it, eyes sweeping the room. Marina detected a twitch of a smile at the corners of his mouth. It just made her despise the man even more. Especially in light of what Don had told her about him yesterday.
‘Right,’ said Glass, ‘let’s get started. Run through what’s been happening.’ His eyes locked on to Mickey’s. ‘Especially for those of you who don’t know.’
Marina saw Mickey’s face redden, his eyes harden. How to alienate your staff in one go, she thought. Very impressive people-management skills.
‘Finn, the boy who was found in the cellar on East Hill, was forcibly taken from the General Hospital yesterday evening. The person who abducted him… ’ he looked down at his notes, ‘Samuel Lister, was an executive at the hospital. No prior convictions, no previous arrests, nothing. Clean as. As you’re all probably aware, he handed the child over to person or persons unknown and killed himself in the car park.’
Marina watched Mickey’s response. He looked round the room, an undercurrent of desperation to his actions. ‘Where’s Anni?’
