Pulse (A Kate Redman Mystery Page 9

  Kate was frantic to start digging up information on Robert Pound. She forced herself to wait, fidgeting and shifting, while DI Mistle went off to photocopy what little documentation he had.

  “Here you go,” he said, after a wait of what Kate thought had been several eons. “This is all I’ve got but if I give you my card, you can give me a ring if you need anything else.” He winked and added “Or if you just fancy a chat.”

  Kate let her gaze drop pointedly to the wedding ring on his left hand and thanked him coolly. Then she said goodbye and left the station building, digging for her mobile phone in her handbag as she scurried towards her car.

  “Hullo, sweetheart,” said Anderton, which proved to Kate that he wasn’t in his office. “What’s up?”

  Kate told him and immediately took the phone away from her ear with a wince as Anderton gave a whoop.

  “That’s amazing. Well done, you. That’s a definite link between cases.”

  “That’s what I thought.”

  “Fantastic work. Now we just need to find him. Send everything you can over and I’ll start rallying the troops.”

  Kate found that she was grinning broadly. “Do you still want me to go to Bournemouth? Check out the Simon Hardy case?”

  She heard Anderton hesitate. Then he said, slowly, “Yes. Yes, I think so.” He hesitated again and then added, “If it were just up to me, I’d have you back here right now. And then have you.”

  Kate smiled again. “You’re not in the office, are you?”

  Anderton laughed. “How did you guess? No, I’m at home. Just on my way in, now. Anyway, yes, head down to Bournemouth and see if you can find anything there. We’ll get on with things down here. I suppose you’ll be staying overnight?”

  “Yes, I will. Can’t face that much driving in one day.”

  “No, wouldn’t be a good idea. Okay, darling, get everything over, call me later and drive safely, okay?”

  “Okay.” Kate said goodbye, managed not to add the words ‘I miss you’ to the end of her sentence, and hung up.

  She went back into Ely station and found a friendly administrative assistant who would oversee the transfer of all the information on the Lightner case – what little there was of it – to the team at Abbeyford. Then she went back out again to her car, bought herself a takeaway coffee to fortify herself for the long drive down to Bournemouth, and set off on her journey.

  Chapter Sixteen

  DI Olbeck left Abbeyford police station at about nine o’clock that night. He had been leaving work later and later over the past few weeks, and deep down he knew that, murder case or no murder case, he was using work to avoid going home. As he walked along the Abbeyford streets – Jeff had needed the car that day – Olbeck thought about many things. The fact that they would soon need two cars, or so he assumed. He didn’t much like the idea of having to schlep a toddler – or even two toddlers – around by public transport. Not that he’d be doing much of that side of things; Jeff would be, in effect, the main carer. And that was part of the problem, wasn’t it? He and Jeff were still thrashing out the details, and they couldn’t seem to agree on anything, anymore. He had always prided himself on his marriage, on their ability to talk out any problems, how they had always seemed to be on the same page, no matter what life threw at them.

  It’s not like that, anymore. Olbeck admitted that to himself glumly as he walked along. Now, he and Jeff seemed to argue at the drop of a hat, petty squabbles that blew up into nothing. Yes, they were resolved pretty quickly but the taint of conflict hung around for longer.

  Olbeck found himself at the turning that would eventually lead to his house. He hesitated at the junction, his cold hands thrust into his jacket pockets. Go home now and there would be a row, he knew there would, because of the text that Jeff had sent him just before he left the office. A nice passive-aggressive thought you’d try and get home early for once tonight? As if Jeff didn’t know what the job was like, sometimes. No kiss on the end of it either. Olbeck found his fists were clenched in his pockets. God, it had been like this with Joe, just like this. Not wanting to go home because home just meant hassle and pain and boredom. Then Olbeck remembered that Joe was dead and his stomach clenched as tightly as his hands.

  Damn it. Olbeck wheeled around in the other direction and began walking back towards the town centre again. He began to walk more quickly, frustration and hurt powering his steps. He didn’t even really think about where he was going, just let his feet take him to wherever he subconsciously wanted to go. When he finally paused and looked up, he saw without surprise that he’d stopped opposite The Mermaid, a pub he used to spend a lot of time in before he met Jeff. It wasn’t exactly a gay bar but it had a big gay clientele. As Olbeck pushed open the door, he remembered having a drink there with Kate, years ago now, when he’d told her that he and Jeff were really a couple, after those first few tentative dates. He could see her pleased smile right now, across the table from him. He felt a surge of affection for her suddenly and decided to give her a ring later. His and Kate’s relationship was another source of anxiety; not as sharp as the one he felt about his own marriage, but a niggle of doubt remained there nonetheless. He had a feeling Kate wasn’t telling him something but he couldn’t think what it might actually be. Could it be that she didn’t think he was cut out for adoption, after all, but just didn’t want to tell him?

  His mood dipping further, Olbeck hesitated on the doorstep. Part of him knew that going in here and getting drunk would be a very bad idea. He knew that. He tried to conjure up Jeff’s face, remind himself of everything he loved about his partner, what they’d been through together, but all he could think about was the last time he’d seen him – that very morning – and they’d had yet another argument. Then he recalled the text that he had sent and how it had made him feel. Still Olbeck hesitated, almost paralysed with indecision.

  “Hello.”

  The voice almost made him jump. Olbeck looked up to see a face familiar to him in some way but was unable to immediately decide the context, such was his emotional turmoil at that moment.

  “It’s Josh. Josh Garton. From the pathology labs.”

  Relief flowed over Olbeck and he straightened up. “Oh, of course. Hi, sorry about that – in a bit of a daze at the moment.”

  He could see Josh regarding him with sympathy. He remembered, now, how they’d shared that conversation after Joe’s post mortem, how kind the boy had been, young as he was. How old was he, actually? Twenty? Twenty-five? Olbeck wondered and felt something he hadn’t felt for years; a queasy mixture of anxiety and – yes, he couldn’t deny it – attraction. He swallowed.

  Josh looked hesitant. “Are you – are you meeting somebody?”

  Olbeck shook his head. “No. No, just thought I’d pop in for a pint. Been a hell of a day at work.”

  “Oh, right. Yeah, I know what you mean.”

  “Do you fancy joining me? I could do with some company.” Olbeck heard the words come out of his mouth with something like astonishment but they were out now and couldn’t be taken back. He had enough time to think, Oh God, let him say no, and simultaneously hope that Josh would say yes. His stomach was one mass of knots.

  “Yeah, that’d be great. I’ve got to be somewhere a bit later but, yeah, I could stay for a pint.”

  They smiled at each other, and Olbeck finally put one foot across the threshold of the door. “That’s great. It’s my round.”

  *

  Kate reached the city of Bournemouth far too late to visit the local police station. That would have to wait until the morning. She was exhausted from the drive, too tired even to find a restaurant to eat. She had to make do with a horrible sandwich from a local petrol station and a packet of crisps as a side dish before she rolled into the bed of her budget hotel, only staying awake long enough to program the alarm on her phone to wake her at a suitable time in the morning.
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br />   She didn’t sleep particularly well but was up and out the door at a decent hour the next morning, having rung ahead to ascertain that the person she wanted to speak to at the station would be there and ready to receive her. She followed the sat nav’s patient directions to Bournemouth police station for form’s sake only – she knew the route and the roads well. She experienced a jolt of nostalgia as she parked the car in the station car park. This was where she’d started her police career; a young, eager rookie, under the patient tutelage of Sergeant Wittock. He had retired and Kate thought for a moment she might try to look him up for a chat and a trip down memory lane, but a second later dismissed the idea. She had little time for chit-chat and she still faced the fairly formidable drive back to the West Country that day. Kate wondered what was happening back at Abbeyford Station. Had they found Robert Pound yet? She’d had a very quick and professional call with Anderton as she’d almost completed her journey yesterday but that had been more to reassure him that she’d got to Bournemouth safely and not fallen asleep at the wheel on the M25.

  At the station, Kate was shown into a spare interview room and a moment later, DI Rich introduced herself. Unlike Ely’s DI Mistle, DI Rich was well prepared with an armful of folders and documents. She was about Kate’s own age, rather short and plump with curly brown hair.

  “I was only a DC at the time,” she explained, dumping all the paperwork on the desk and shutting the door behind her. “But I remember the case well, it was my first murder.”

  “Right,” said Kate. “I understand that the first thought was that it was a drug-related killing?”

  “Yes – the victim, Simon Hardy, was well known to the police as a small time drug dealer, petty criminal, you know the type.”

  Kate did know the type. “So, you never actually got anyone for the crime?”

  “No, we didn’t. We did make a few arrests, and we even got so far as to charge one of his associates with the murder, but it was dropped through lack of evidence.” DI Rich sighed. “So frustrating not being able to tie it all up, isn’t it?”

  Kate agreed. “The reason I’m here to discuss the case is that there’s a very slim possibility that there might be a link to the murders we’re investigating in Abbeyford.” DI Rich nodded, her brown curls bouncing. Kate went on. “It may sound stupid but the link that struck me was the place where Hardy’s body was found. I presume you know all about the vampire legend there?”

  “On Scott’s Wood? Not much, I have to say. Wasn’t it supposed to be one of the places Dracula visited when he got to England?” DI Rich laughed at herself. “Oh, no, that can’t be right, can it?”

  Kate smiled. “Not quite. There was a local landowner back in the sixteen hundreds, who was supposed to have been a vampire. Lots of local legends about people disappearing and coming back as the undead. We used to scare each other at school with the stories.”

  DI Rich looked interested. “Oh, you’re local are you? I didn’t realise.”

  Kate explained. It was quite tempting to have a good, off-topic chat with this warm and friendly woman, but Kate reminded herself that she didn’t have all the time in the world. “Could I have a look at the post mortem results?”

  “Of course. Shall I get you a coffee or something while you read through them?”

  Kate accepted gratefully and sat down with the reports. She read through them carefully, making her own notes in her notebook. From a point of view of comparison, the results were disappointing. Simon Hardy had died from a massive knife wound in the throat and his body had been thrown in a ditch and roughly covered with branches and leaves. He’d died with traces of alcohol and cocaine in his blood but nothing resembling GHB. No posing of the body, no careful, neat cut in the neck. Kate put the folder down in frustration and stared across the table. Was this just a waste of time? Her eyes fell again to the details of where the body had been found. Scott’s Wood. It was there again, that intuition, just a flicker…but without evidence, was there really any point in pursuing this?

  She thanked DI Wise for the notes and the coffee, took down her email address and made a copy of all the pertinent information, not that there was much. It was time to head home. Kate sighed a little at the thought of the long drive back but at least she was going home. She put the directions for her house into the sat nav, checked the petrol gauge, and started the engine.

  Chapter Seventeen

  “Robert Pound,” Anderton said the next morning, striding meditatively across the floor of the incident room. Behind him, a hugely blown-up picture of the photo-fit that Kate had taken to Ely and Bournemouth had been pinned on the whiteboard. Kate met the illustrated eyes of the man who they believed might be a suspect in the deaths of Joe Vickers and Keith Farmer and felt a little chill.

  Anderton continued talking. “We’re currently trying to track down his whereabouts – there’s a definite possibility that he’s using a different name to the one we have. I want you guys to pull everything you have to try and track him down. Mark, I need someone to go and interview the care home where this guy is known to have probably worked.” He paused and then asked again. “Mark?”

  Olbeck, who had been staring across the room, looked up. “Sorry?”

  Anderton rolled his eyes. “Have you been listening to a word I’ve said?”

  Olbeck looked uncomfortable. “Sorry. I was – I was distracted. Sorry.”

  “We haven’t got time for you to be distracted.” Anderton paused and then relented. “Okay, I need someone to go and interview the care home where Robert Pound is believed to have worked. Can you organise that?”

  “I’ll go,” Kate said smartly. Anderton looked at her in approval.

  “Haven’t you had enough of driving around the countryside?”

  “Can’t get enough of it, me,” said Kate, grinning. Their eyes met and there was a spark warm enough for Kate to worry that it was noticeable to others in the room.

  “Anyway,” said Anderton, slightly artificially, after a moment. “Kate can do that. Theo, Chloe, Rav, I want you jumping on all the data you can find. Go trawling. Do what you can.” There were nods around the room. “That’s it for now, and obviously if anything else comes up, then, for God’s sake, come and tell me. There’ll be another press report tomorrow, so anything we’ve got that could help will – well, help.” He headed for the door and added, over his shoulder, “Mark, could I have a quick word?”

  Kate watched them both head out the door and turned back to her desk with a sigh. Olbeck looked awful; drawn and strained. Kate made her mind that she had to tackle him about what was going on at home, because it was pretty obvious that something was wrong with him and Jeff. She clicked her computer mouse to bring her computer back to life, feeling a knot in her stomach. Jeff and Olbeck couldn’t break up, they just couldn’t. Life just shouldn’t be that unfair. She felt guilt, too, for not being around for him much lately, not being a shoulder to cry on for a friend in need.

  She put a call through to DI Mistle in Ely, to get all the information on Robert Pound that she could, although she wasn’t very confident in the inspector recalling anything more, seeing as he’d been so unprepared for their actual face to face meeting. As she put the phone down, she saw Olbeck coming back into the room. Anderton’s ‘quick word’ had indeed been quick. Judging by the expression on her friend’s face, it also hadn’t been particularly welcome.

  “Hey,” she said as he walked past, holding out an arm to stop him. “Do you fancy coming over tonight? My place, for dinner?”

  Olbeck looked as though there was nothing he’d like less. “Not tonight, Kate. Sorry.” He began to walk away and then clearly remembered his manners. “Thanks for the invitation, though.”

  “How about tomorrow, then?” Kate pressed, not wanting him to get away.

  “I don’t know—”

  “Well, have a think and let me know. And if it’s not tomorro
w, then it will be soon.” She decided to get tough. “I need to talk to you, and I think you need to talk to me.” Aware that the others were beginning to listen in, she dropped her arm. “See you later.”

  Olbeck muttered something and walked off. Kate watched him go, feeling guilt beginning to build once more. Something was wrong with him and she’d quite possibly just made him feel worse. And if he did come over and they did talk, was she going to come clean about Anderton? Surely that was something she needed to discuss with Anderton first?

  Resisting the urge to hit her head against the keyboard for a few minutes, she began the search for the care home details from the information that DI Mistle had given her. It was situated in Norfolk, on the outskirts of Norwich. Kate telephoned them to explain the situation, booked herself back in another budget hotel in the city, printed off directions and all the meagre information that she had, and stood up with a sigh.

  Chloe, Rav and Theo were intent on their computers, their collective expressions grimly focused on trying to track down the suspect. Despite the thought of the long drive ahead, Kate was thankful that she could at least be out and about again, rather than trawling through countless arrest records, databases and filing systems. She said goodbye and left, picking up her bag and coat on the way.

  *

  She was turning the key in the ignition, waiting for the engine to spark to life, when she saw her mobile phone screen light up on the passenger seat. Olbeck had sent a text to her. Sorry, it read. Bit of a tough time at the moment. Do you want to meet up tomorrow night? X Kate simultaneously felt a jolt of happiness and an equal stab of anxiety. She texted back an affirmative answer and put the phone down again, thinking about the possible conversations that might result from that meeting. She’d have to talk to Anderton, tell him that she was catching up with Olbeck and that she wanted to tell her friend about the situation at work. Kate’s hands tightened on the wheel. Oh God, what was Anderton going to say about that? He’d think it was a terrible idea, wouldn’t he? Perhaps it was even a dumping offence? Kate’s stomach knotted itself again. I wish I’d never started this stupid relationship, she told herself viciously, knowing that it wasn’t true. See, now you’re even lying to yourself.