tell you anything I can’t prove, you know that,’ Kev said happily. ‘But I’m still looking. We’re removing all the fittings from that bathroom so we can make absolutely sure we haven’t missed anything. We’ll take everything into the lab and go through it millimetre by millimetre.’
‘And in the meantime, we have Carl Hooper being very forthcoming about what he did and did not do on Sir Marcus Gley’s instructions.’ Derwent laughed. ‘You’d think he’d been waiting for a chance to drop his boss in it.’
‘So basically, we know how Iliana died and we know how her body was disposed of,’ I said. ‘We know how the guy with the tattoo died, and we’ve been told his body was disposed of the same way, but we still don’t know who he was and no one has reported him missing. We have two other sources of blood which may or may not be from dead bodies and no missing persons to match up with them.’
‘Correct.’
‘But Paige Hargreaves is still a mystery.’
‘Bang on,’ Kev said happily. ‘You must be feeling better.’
‘Getting there.’
‘When are you coming back to work?’
When I’m able to face everyone, I thought, and couldn’t say it. ‘I’m not sure yet.’
‘I hope it’ll be soon. We miss you.’
‘Thanks, Kev.’ Derwent took the phone from me and ended the call while I blinked furiously, trying to hide the tears that had welled up.
‘Well, that’s helpful.’
‘Even though it doesn’t get you any further with Paige Hargreaves.’
‘When is Gley being arrested?’
Derwent’s eyes gleamed. ‘I wondered if you’d ask that.’
‘It was supposed to be around now, wasn’t it?’
‘We’re working towards Monday.’
‘Monday,’ I said thoughtfully.
‘Want to come?’
‘Yes.’ I looked up at him. ‘But do you think that’s a good idea?’
‘Definitely not.’ He grinned. ‘I’ll pick you up.’
39
It was still dark when Derwent’s car pulled up outside my parents’ house. I hurried out, closing the front door as quietly as I could so I didn’t wake them up.
‘Morning.’ He looked at the tin I had balanced on my knees as I put on my seatbelt. ‘What’s that?’
‘Cake. Mum made it for the team.’
‘Brilliant.’ He sounded genuinely delighted. ‘I knew it was worth picking you up.’
‘I wasn’t sure you’d come.’
‘Why not?’
I shrugged. ‘I thought you’d change your mind. I am supposed to be on sick leave.’
‘I don’t see why some miserable little shit’s emotional problems should deprive you of being at Gley’s arrest. If you hadn’t nosed out the Chiron Club story, we wouldn’t know anything about Gley or Iliana. This is all down to you.’
‘Thanks.’
He nodded, concentrating on the road. ‘You deserve this. And Burt agreed with me.’
‘You got permission?’
‘Everything by the book.’
I waited until we had stopped at a red light to pop the lid of the cake tin. The smell of chocolate filled the car. Derwent leaned over and inhaled deeply.
‘That is beautiful.’
‘She said it was your favourite. Why does my mother know your favourite kind of cake?’
‘She’s that sort of person.’
‘And I’m not?’
‘No, and please promise me you’ll never bake me a cake.’
‘You’d be lucky.’
‘Yeah, lucky to survive. I’ve seen your cooking. I wouldn’t risk it.’
‘I won’t bother then,’ I snapped.
He gave me a sidelong smile that was sweet and surprising enough to defuse my anger. ‘Just promise me you’ll keep it away from Liv until I’ve had some. She’s like a python at the moment. She’d down it in one.’
The quiet road in St John’s Wood where Sir Marcus Gley lived had never seen anything so shocking as the dawn raid on his house, complete with three police cars, one van and two unmarked vehicles. We weren’t expecting trouble, but it was best to go prepared for it. In addition to a lot of uniformed officers and Derwent, the team consisted of Chris Pettifer, Pete Belcott and Colin Vale, who had left the office for the first time in months. No Liv, who was limited to desk duties. I wasn’t officially there either, but I was glad to be included, and Derwent made sure I wasn’t pushed out of the way as we trooped up the narrow path to the front door. The houses weren’t huge but they were late Georgian, complete with fanlights over the doors and high windows, and only very wealthy Londoners could have aspired to own one. The brass knocker on the door gleamed in the morning light with the sheen of proper elbow grease. I heard a chorus of soft chirps around me as the uniformed officers switched on their body-worn cameras to record whatever happened next.
Sir