Deep Hurt - Eva Hudson Page 0,88

activity among the uniformed officers. One of them ran over to Radcliffe and Strickland, who had now been joined by DS Tyson. She started to jog toward the little group. “What’s happened?” She made sure to address DCI Strickland, out of courtesy, given this was his patch, and in the hope he might react favorably to the gesture. He didn’t answer right away. He was too busy scowling over her shoulder, presumably at an approaching Jack Gurley. “Chief inspector?” she prompted.

“We have CCTV footage of a man and boy, fitting the basic description of Foster and his son, boarding a London-bound train.”

Ingrid turned to Radcliffe. “How quickly can you get a team down to the station in London?”

“I’m afraid we’re too late for that, agent,” Strickland said. “The train was due in at Euston over an hour ago. The best we can do now is get personnel looking at the CCTV recordings for the surrounding area. We might at least be able to discover which direction he was heading in when he left the station.”

Behind her Ingrid heard Gurley exhale noisily. She was grateful he didn’t make any comment.

“Well, there’s no point staying up here,” Radcliffe said. “Thanks for all your efforts, Ted. I think it might be time for you to get the troops to stand down.” He shook Strickland’s hand. “Really appreciate your help.”

When just Tyson and Radcliffe remained, Gurley said, “I guess you’ll be wanting a ride back?”

“Actually we’ve arranged alternative transport. Thanks all the same.” With that the DCI walked away, closely followed by his number two.

“Wow—I really pissed them off, huh?” Gurley shook his head.

Ingrid was about to reply, when she was interrupted by the trilling of Gurley’s cell. He peered down at the number. It was clear he didn’t recognize it. He stabbed the answer key. “Major Gurley,” he said, “who is this?” He quickly turned away and started walking.

Ingrid ran after him.

“It isn’t that straightforward,” she heard him say. “What the…?” He glared at his phone.

“Was it Foster?” Ingrid asked him, grabbing his arm.

“Sonofabitch is still making demands.”

“The demands haven’t changed? He wants safe passage for Tommy?”

“He said he’s calling again tomorrow with ‘full instructions’. He made one thing very clear.”

Ingrid watched the expression on his face turn from anger to something approaching satisfaction. “Well?”

“On no account should we get the police involved.”

45

After a restless night, Ingrid arrived at the embassy ahead of Jack Gurley. They had arranged to meet there so that Foster’s call could be more easily traced. The technical team assured her the tracking process would kick in just as soon as he called. All she could do now was wait.

She sat at her desk in the Criminal Division for a few minutes enjoying the silence. No phones were ringing, Jennifer wasn’t bombarding her with questions, even the air conditioning seemed uncharacteristically quiet. She rested her chin on her hands and closed her eyes, then tried to make her muscles relax and her mind go blank.

It was a mistake.

A sudden image of the house in Jackson filled her mind. She snapped her eyes back open. How many more bodies were they going to recover? What kind of monster were they dealing with? Immediately her head was full of all the messages she’d ignored from Svetlana. Of the shoebox crammed with memories from her past. Of Ralph’s silent departure in the middle of the night.

Maybe silence was overrated.

Much to her relief, it was shattered a few moments later by the ringing of her cell. It was DCI Radcliffe.

“You’re at work early,” she said in lieu of a greeting.

“Did I wake you?”

“Not at all—I’m at the office.”

“Is Gurley there with you?”

“No. Why?”

There was a pause. As if Radcliffe didn’t believe her.

“What is it?”

“I got back to my desk last night to discover a preliminary forensics report. There’s been a new development.”

“Forensics? From the hotel? What is it?”

“I don’t want to tell you over the phone. Face to face. Without Gurley.”

“I can’t exclude him from something like that.”

“You’ve had no qualms about excluding us. Gurley’s a royal pain in the arse. If you want the information, you meet me on your own. Can you get down to the station now?”

“I have a meeting this morning… with the chief,” she lied. “It’s the reason I’m here so early.”

“Call me when you’re out of it. This new evidence—it could be a game changer.”

“Can’t you even give me a clue?”

“Not over the phone.”

“I swear he’s not here.”

“Call me later.” He hung up.

“Who’s not here? Who was