behaviour was erratic and undisciplined, and people like that were best avoided, particularly by someone who wanted to keep his copybook pristine.
She saw DCI MacLeod emerge from one of the police vans at the edge of the cordon. He looked pale and tense, but she could hardly blame him for that. What had started off as a happy evening in the pub to celebrate the successful conclusion of a long-running case had turned into a violent tragedy, with the suspect they’d spent so many man-hours hunting down having disappeared into thin air. Already news helicopters were whirring steadily overhead, and film crews from the various stations jockeyed for position with curious members of the public behind the scene-of-crime tape.
MacLeod saw her and came over, asking if she was OK.
‘I’ve been better,’ she said, stubbing out her cigarette and trying to maintain a cool reserve, although in truth she was quite badly shaken up. What had happened to her that night reminded her of too many incidents in her past.
He gave her the kind of look a father gives an errant daughter. Kindly and caring, but with more than a hint of worry crinkling his features. ‘Your luck’s going to run out one day, you know. Be careful, Tina.’
She was touched by his words, but typically didn’t show it. ‘I had no choice but to follow them, sir. I couldn’t let Kent go without a fight, could I?’
He shook his head, and Tina was struck by how stressed, and how old, he looked. ‘I wish I knew what was going on here.’
Tina exhaled, thinking she might as well tell him what was on her mind. ‘You don’t get a gang of four men springing a prisoner like that without a very serious motive. I don’t think we know the half of it yet, sir.’
MacLeod looked at her sharply. ‘You think someone inside the station helped them?’
‘Don’t you?’
‘But why? And why are all these people willing to shoot police officers to get their hands on a man who’s just a particularly nasty sex killer?’
‘I don’t know,’ said Tina, ‘but I think I might have a lead.’ She explained briefly about the differences in the Roisin O’Neill murder compared to the other four. ‘We definitely need to look into it further. Talk to some of her friends and family and see if that turns up anything?’
But MacLeod didn’t look convinced. He sighed, his face looking redder than ever, clearly thinking about something else.
‘I may have to hire a car,’ she continued. ‘My Focus is a write-off.’
‘Do what you have to do,’ he told her, suddenly dismissive. ‘Put it on expenses. I need to get going. I’ve got to go and explain myself to the DCS.’ Tina knew he was referring to DCS Frank Mendelson, the head of Homicide and Serious Crime Command, the body to which all London’s murder investigation teams belonged. He told her to take care, then with a small, forced smile he strode off in the direction of the station.
She watched him go, thinking that could be her in ten years’ time — unhealthy, unfit, and burnt out by a job which, when it was stripped down to the bare bones, was and could never be anything more than a continual stream of failures.
Having finished giving his statement, Grier walked over to her, his suit jacket tucked over one arm. He looked a lot calmer than he had done earlier, although Tina wondered how long that would last. She knew from experience that the shock often came hours, even days, later.
‘My God, what a night,’ he said, thrusting his hands into his trouser pockets and looking round at the crime scene.
Tina thought about saying sorry for earlier, almost got the first words out, but stopped herself. Saying sorry would be an admission that she’d been wrong, a sign of weakness, and something an ambitious young man like Grier could use against her.
Instead it was Grier who made the first move. ‘You know, about earlier. I know I got angry. It’s because I was shocked after getting shot at. You’re probably used to it, you know, the number of times it’s happened to you. But I think it was the right thing to do for us to give chase, and that’s what I told those guys.’
He smiled at her, and she smiled back, feeling guilty. ‘Thanks. I appreciate it.’
‘How did your statement go? They’re not going to put the blame on you for anything, are they?’
She shook her head. ‘I don’t think so. We had just cause to give chase, and I managed to pass the breathalyser. Just.’
‘I didn’t think you were drinking in the pub earlier,’ Grier said, looking puzzled.
‘I just had a couple,’ she answered, thinking he was far more observant than she’d given him credit for. ‘Listen, Dan, you can go home now if you want. It’s been a long day.’
‘And what are you going to do?’ He paused. ‘You’re going to carry on, aren’t you?’
‘We’ve spent months hunting down Kent and now someone’s snatched him from right under our noses, shot one of our people, and tried to kill us as well. It’s only natural that I want to find out who they are and why they did it.’
‘And where are you going to start?’
‘With Roisin O’Neill, of course. She’s the only break in Andrew Kent’s pattern.’
Like MacLeod, Grier didn’t look convinced. ‘But she was just a normal girl. What could she have had to do with what’s going on now?’
In Tina’s experience, even the most ordinary people could find themselves caught up in the most terrifying crimes. ‘I want to speak to her close friends and family, see if they can shed any light on her personal life that might throw up some leads.’
‘But we’ve just told them that we’ve arrested and charged the man who murdered their daughter.’
‘I know. And pretty soon they’re going to find out that he’s been broken out of custody, and they’re not going to like that much either. But we’ve got to work with the facts in front of us, and right now they’re telling me that there’s something wrong.’
‘I’m still convinced Kent had something to do with her murder, though. He was seen at her place, remember?’
‘I do remember. But someone else was also involved — they had to have been. And that person might have been known to Roisin, which is why I want to talk to the people who knew her well.’
He nodded. ‘I’d like to help, then,’ he told her.
‘Sure you don’t need to go home?’ she asked, immediately regretting the vaguely mocking tone in her voice.
‘No,’ he said firmly, ‘I don’t. Do you want my help or not?’
Tina often liked to work alone, which was a bad trait for any DI and was one of the reasons she never felt comfortable in the role. But she was also pragmatic enough to know that in a case like this, where time wasn’t on their side, she needed all the help she could get, and she was also beginning to realize that she hadn’t appreciated quite how savvy Grier was. ‘That’d be good,’ she said. ‘I want to start by talking to Roisin’s parents.’
‘I remember dealing with her dad. He took it very hard. His wife died when Roisin was still a child. She and her sister were all he had.’ He took out his iPhone. ‘I’ve still got his number on here somewhere. He lives in Rickmansworth.’
‘Can you call him? Apologize for the time but tell him we’ll be coming by in the next hour or so.’
Grier walked off to dial the number while Tina called directory enquiries and got a number for the nearest branch of Hertz. She was just about to call them to hire a replacement car when Grier came striding back, the phone no longer to his ear, his face etched with a potent mixture of concern and confusion.
‘What is it?’ she asked warily.
‘When I called Roisin’s dad’s home number, his daughter answered — the other one, Derval.’ He paused.
‘And?’
‘And she told me that Kevin O’Neill died of a heart attack.’
‘When?’
‘Last night.’
