‘Even if that were true, and even if we could prove it, I’m still struggling to find an angle here for the discussion I’m about to have with DI Kennedy’s boss. I’m not seeing how a girl you don’t recognise being murdered on another team’s patch becomes our case, Jimmy. Sorry, but I’m not.’
‘And we won’t end up with it, either, if that’s your attitude going in.’
His DCI rolled her eyes. On the tail end of a sigh she said, ‘It has bugger all to do with my attitude. Some of us have to graft within the protocols and procedures. Give me something to work with and I’ll support you.’
Bliss put his head back and blew out some pent-up frustration. ‘The fact that she had one of those cards and might well be a sex worker tells me there’s a connection to our case against Lewis Drake. My team and I rescued those young women from his clutches, boss, and in the process we disassembled Drake’s trafficking operation. We never got him to talk about those who came before – the girls and women he’d sneaked in and out of that airbase before we caught him. But what if this victim is one of them?’
‘What if she is? How do you imagine we can tie her in when we can’t speak to her about it?’
‘We do what we do best. Investigate. If she entered this country courtesy of Drake, then even though he’s banged up, he may still have something to do with her murder.’
This was mostly wishful thinking on his part. Lewis Drake ran a scrapyard in Peterborough, the business nothing more than a front for his illegal operations. There had been six women in that container flown into RAF Wittering on a transport plane. One managed to escape. Her liquefied remains were later discovered in a barrel of acid on Drake’s property, but so far Drake’s legal team had successfully thwarted all attempts to charge him with the woman’s murder. In fact, a member of his staff had already confessed to snatching the girl, killing her, and disposing of her remains. Nailing Drake for a different murder would go some way to compensating for missing out on the one Bliss knew the man had at the very least ordered.
‘You ask so much of me, Jimmy,’ Warburton said, shaking her head. ‘You send me into battle with my opposite number, but provide me with no weapons.’
‘I’d argue my own case if I still had the rank.’
‘Yes, well, we all know whose fault that is. Be grateful you still have a job at all.’
Bliss let go of his irritation. ‘I am. You and Superintendent Fletcher went in to bat for me, and I won’t ever forget the debt I owe you both. And neither will the people I’m still able to help in whatever time I have remaining in the job. Just like this poor victim we have here. Little more than a kid. If this is Drake’s work, he deserves to be collared for it. If not, there’s a distinct possibility that whoever slipped into his shoes when we put him away signed off on the job.’
Warburton sighed. ‘And you know all this how?’
‘I don’t. I feel it in my water.’
‘You sure that’s not old age and a dodgy bladder?’
‘Forgive me for saying so, boss, but you’re starting to sound like Penny.’
‘DS Chandler is a wise woman. And a saint to put up with you. Look, Jimmy, I hear you. I understand. But do you really want the responsibility? Or should I say – do you really want it to be the team’s responsibility?’
‘It’s not a matter of want,’ he said softly. ‘Call me old fashioned if you like, but to me it’s more a matter of duty. That girl had my card on her person. That card ties me to her, whether or not I’m part of the team investigating her murder. But you’re right about one thing: I do feel responsible. So let me do what I can to find the bastard who strangled her to death.’
Warburton acknowledged his plea with a dip of her head. ‘There’s still a budget to fight over, Jimmy.’
‘Then use that as one of your arguments in there.’ He nodded towards the office door to their left. ‘Our case, our budget.’
‘And have Superintendent Fletcher all over me demanding to know why.’
‘No problem. Remind her it’s the right thing to do.’
She clenched both fists and raised them to her forehead, letting out an exasperated groan. ‘You’ll be the death of me, Jimmy Bliss. Of my career, at least.’
He grinned. ‘So you’ll do it?’
‘You knew I would.’
‘I hoped.’ He thought about it for a moment, then nodded. ‘Yeah, I did know it. Not because you’re a soft touch, either. Truth is, you’re a good copper and you do the right thing when it needs doing. I realise this is a long shot. I’d be stupid not to. Our victim might not have been a brass at all. Even if she was, she could still have been killed by a punter. Plus, there are plenty of parasites like Drake out there running young girls. I get all that, boss. But her having my card tells me there’s a possible connection. I have to follow up on that.’
The office door opened and Kennedy’s DCI beckoned Warburton in. She got to her feet, smoothed down her trousers, and buttoned her suit jacket. ‘I’ll give it my best shot, Jimmy. But don’t sulk if they keep it for themselves.’
Bliss put a hand to his chest. ‘I’m insulted.’
‘You’re immune to insults. All that experience you’ve had, I expect.’
‘Perhaps. But thanks, boss. I know you’ll work something out.’
***
To say he sulked on the drive back would be an overstatement, but Bliss was not an entirely happy man. Cambridge had handed over the investigation with great reluctance, but not before attaching a couple of unwelcome strings. The first compelled Bliss to report to DI
