“You okay?” Miller asked and her eyes shot open. That was all she needed, it had been bad enough to know that Jeffries was there, and that her activities were going to be the talk of the incident room, but this was way, way worse.
“Absolutely fine,” she replied, levering herself up off the pavement. It hurt, but not as much as she had expected, she was relieved to find.
“What the bloody hell did you think you were doing?” he asked angrily.
“Trying to help a patient.”
She stood on the kerb, pleased that she could look him almost in the eye with this advantage.
“I meant, what were you doing here?”
“I know, I know, I shouldn’t interfere,” she answered and hesitated, thinking about why she was there before replying to his question. “I wanted to see who was here, to see if anything was said that linked them to the boat sabotage.”
“Didn’t it occur to you that we would be here doing exactly that? Or that Darren Dixon” – Miller almost spat out his name – “would know that and be very careful that he said absolutely nothing that could be used against him?”
“Well, I didn’t expect him to be that stupid, but I did hope that someone in amongst his supporters might be.”
“And were they?”
“Not that I heard,” she admitted. “But David Morris went straight over and laid into Peter Claybourne, continuing their argument from the beach. There has to be something going on there.”
“Maybe Morris will tell us about it when he comes round.”
“If he comes round,” Callie corrected him. “We’ll know more once he’s been assessed in hospital.”
Miller shot her a look.
“We will, not you. These people,” he started. “Well, let’s just say I’d feel happier if you didn’t get involved.”
Callie was pleased that he was showing concern, but she certainly wasn’t going to admit it.
“David Morris is my patient, so I am involved.”
“But that doesn’t excuse you coming down here and getting in the way. We had it covered.” His concern was replaced by anger.
“If that’s all, I’ll be going then,” she said, and left with as much dignity as she could muster.
Chapter 9
Callie woke up on Sunday morning still aching from the night before. She groaned slightly as she shuffled to the bathroom. A hot shower helped her to get moving and she examined her bruises in the steamy mirror. They really weren’t too bad, and not anywhere visible, so she had got off lightly.
The radio news was full of the near riot on Hastings seafront, as they described it. Callie thought it was more of a scuffle than a riot. There was only one person reported seriously injured and a few people had been treated with minor ones. Three people had been arrested, but Callie was sorry to hear that Dixon had not been one of them. In fact, there was a section of the report in which he told the journalist that the violence was nothing to do with his supporters, they were all angels, according to him. It was the anti-fascists, tree-huggers and anarchists that were to blame. They started it, apparently. Callie snorted in disgust and switched the radio off.
She made a quick call to the hospital. Once the sister in charge had checked she really was Morris’s doctor, she told her that he had had a comfortable night.
“You can’t be too careful, these journalists will try anything,” the ward sister told her.
Callie agreed, and the sister continued to tell her that Morris was stable but not yet conscious.
A cup of tea, a bit of judicious make-up and a shirt that covered the small bruise on her shoulder, and she was ready for brunch with Kate.
The Land of Green Ginger was as welcoming as ever. Callie didn’t like to think what it said about a person who felt more at home in a café than in their own home. The warm moist smell of tea, eggs and bacon made Callie want to audibly sigh with pleasure.
Unusually, Kate stayed quiet whilst her friend recounted the events of the night before.
“What the bloody hell were you thinking, Callie? You must know that those sorts of public meetings usually end up in a free for all!”
“I wanted to find out if they were involved in the boat sinking, that’s all.”
“What? You think they stuck a knife in it and sent the immigrants cheerfully on their way? Even they aren’t that callous.”
“I’m not so sure.”
“And just how do you think they managed to do it?”
“They must have infiltrated the smugglers, had someone on board the boat they were on.”
“A French boat? Can’t see any of Dixon’s mates speaking French.”
“We don’t know that it was a French boat. They could have transferred halfway across the channel. In fact, we don’t know it was a fishing boat at all. It could have been anyone with a boat. There’s a lot of money in people smuggling.”
Kate had to concede that point.
“But what about your theory that the body at Fairlight was actually one of the smugglers? Do you think he would have got in the boat if he thought it was damaged?”
That was certainly a problem, Callie had to concede. Even she had to admit it didn’t seem likely.
They both concentrated on their breakfast for a while.
“I read an article in the newspaper that it’s often Eastern European gangs that organise it.”
“Well, that’s not going to make identifying his body any easier, is it?” Callie said, knowing she shouldn’t snap at her friend. The fact was, she really wasn’t looking forward to telling Billy all this later. Having Kate cross with her was one thing, but she
