A sullen, arrogant man in his late twenties, with Latino good looks and shiny, mussed-about hair, Zafferone was slickly dressed in a smart beige mackintosh over a tan suit. Although he was a sharp detective, Zafferone had a serious attitude problem and Grace had written a scathing report after his last experience working with the man.
Now Zafferone was striding across his lawn, chewing gum and holding a sheet of paper in his hand of the kind that Grace was all too familiar with.
‘Good morning, Detective Superintendent. Nice to see you again.’ Zafferone gave him a smarmy smile.
‘You want to tell me just what is going on?’
The young DC held up the signed document. ‘A search warrant,’ Zafferone said.
‘For my garden?’
‘And the house too.’ He hesitated, then added a reluctant, ‘Sir.’
Now Grace was almost beside himself with rage. This was not real. No way. Absolutely no way.
‘Is this some kind of a joke? Just who the fuck is responsible for this?’
Zafferone smiled, as if he was in on this too and was really enjoying his moment of power, and said, ‘Detective Superintendent Pewe.’
114
Cassian Pewe was sitting in his office, in his shirtsleeves, reading through a policy document, when his door burst open and Roy Grace came in, his face contorted with rage. He slammed the door shut behind him, then put both hands on Pewe’s desk and glared at him.
Pewe sat back and put his hands up defensively. ‘Roy,’ he said. ‘Good morning!’
‘How dare you?’ Grace yelled at him. ‘How fucking dare you? You wait until I’ve gone away and you do
‘Roy, calm down, please. Let me explain-’
‘Calm down? I’m not going to fucking calm down. I’m going to cut your fucking head off and use you as a hat stand.’
‘Is that a threat?’
‘Yes, it’s a threat, you creep. Go run to Alison Vosper and ask her to blow your nose while you sit her on her lap and blub your eyes out, or whatever it is you do with each other.’
‘I thought with you being away – it would be less embarrassing for you.’
‘I’m going to have you, Pewe. You are going to really regret this.’
‘I don’t appreciate the tone of your voice, Roy.’
‘And I don’t appreciate SOCO officers crawling all over my home with a search warrant. You fucking stop them right now.’
‘I’m sorry,’ Pewe said, getting a little more courageous after realizing Grace was not going to hit him. ‘But following my interview with your late wife’s parents, I’m not comfortable that every aspect of your wife’s disappearance has been investigated as thoroughly as it should have been at the time.’
He smiled in conclusion, and Grace did not think he had ever hated anyone in all his life as much as he hated Cassian Pewe at this moment.
‘Really? Just what did her parents say to you that’s so new?’
‘Her father had quite a bit to say.’
‘Did he tell you his father was in the RAF during the war?’
‘Yes, actually, he did,’ Pewe said.
‘Did he tell you about any of the bombing sorties his father went on?’
‘In some detail. Fascinating. He sounds a character. He flew on some of the Dambusters missions. Extraordinary man.’
‘Sandy’s father is an extraordinary man,’ Grace confirmed. ‘He is a complete fantasist. His father was never in 617 Squadron – the Dambusters squadron. And he was an aircraft fitter, not a gunner. He never flew on a single mission.’
Pewe was silent for a second, looking slightly uncomfortable. Grace stormed back out, crossed the corridor and marched straight into the Chief Superintendent’s office. He stood in front of Sker- ritt’s desk until his boss had finished a call and then said, ‘Jack, I need to talk to you.’
Skerritt ushered him to a chair. ‘How was New York?’
‘Good,’ he said. ‘Got some good information – I’ll circulate a report. I’ve literally just got back.’
‘Your
‘Yes, there is.’
‘Are you letting DI Mantle run with it, or are you taking back command?’
‘I think today we’re going to need everyone,’ Grace said. ‘It’s going to depend on the geography to some extent who else we involve.’
Skerritt nodded. ‘So, what did you want to talk about?’
‘Detective Superintendent Pewe,’ he said.
‘Wasn’t my choice to bring him here,’ Skerritt said, giving Grace a knowing look.
‘I realize that.’ He was aware that Skerritt disliked the man almost as much as he did.
‘So what’s the problem?’
Grace told him.
When he had finished, Jack Skerritt shook his head incredulously. ‘I can’t believe he did this behind your back. It’s one thing to have an open investigation, and that can be a healthy thing, sometimes. But I don’t like the way this is being handled at all. Not one bit. How long has Sandy been missing now?’
‘Getting on for nine and half years.’
Skerritt thought for a moment, then looked at his watch. ‘Are you going to your briefing meeting?’
‘Yes.’
‘Tell you what I’ll do, I’ll speak to him now. Come and see me straight after your meeting.’
Grace thanked him, and Skerritt picked up the phone as he was leaving the office.
115
At 9.15 Abby drove the black Honda diesel off-roader she had rented last night, on Ricky’s very specific instructions, up the hill towards Sussex House. Her stomach felt as if it was full of hot needles, and she was shaking.
Taking deep, steady breaths, she tried her hardest to keep calm and not let another panic attack come on. She was on the verge of one, she knew. She had that slightly disembodied feeling that was always the precursor.
It was ironic, she thought, that Southern Deposit Security was less than half a mile away from the building she was headed to now.
She pulled the car up as instructed, in front of the massive green, steel gate and put the handbrake on. Sitting on the passenger seat was the plastic groceries bag she had put her mother’s medications in yesterday. Also inside it was a Jiffy bag. Her suitcase was back in her room at the hotel.
Glenn Branson appeared and gave her a cheery wave. The gate began to slide open and, as soon as there was a large enough gap, she drove through. The DS signalled for her to park in front of a row of wheelie bins, then he held the door open for her.
‘You OK?’ he asked.
She nodded bleakly.
He put a protective arm around her shoulder. ‘You’ll be fine,’ he said. ‘I think you are a strong lady. We’ll get your mum back safely. And we’ll get your stamps too. He thinks he’s chosen a smart place, but he hasn’t. It’s dumb.’
‘Why do you say that?’
Ushering her through a door into a bare stairwell, he said, ‘He’s chosen the place to frighten you. That’s his priority, but it shouldn’t be. You’re frightened enough, so he doesn’t need to ratchet things up. He’s not thinking this through. He’s not doing it the way I’d do it.’
‘What if he sees any of you?’ she asked, walking along a corridor, struggling to keep pace with him.
‘He won’t. Not unless we have to show ourselves. We’ll only do that if we start to think you are in danger.’
‘He
‘We understand that. You have the stamps?’
She lifted up the carrier bag to show him.
‘Didn’t want to risk leaving them in your car in a police station?’ He grinned. ‘Wise decision!’
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