Sleep Tight Page 11

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  ‘No,’ Ruby said in a harsh whisper. ‘It wasn’t me, I swear.’ Her breath quickened as the scenario unfolded before her. Heavy footsteps pounded their way into the building. Nathan stood, unmoving, his firearm trained on the door.

  ‘Put the gun away,’ she said. ‘You’re going to get yourself killed.’ Any second now DI Downes would burst in. She could not bear to imagine what would happen next. ‘Please, take the roof. I’ll tell them you didn’t show.’ There was less than a six-foot gap between the roof of their building and the one beside it, and, in their youth Nathan used to jump from one to the other with ease.

  Nathan’s eyes flicked from the door to Ruby, his face stony. Shoving the gun into the groove of his combats, he threw her a disbelieving look before climbing out of the window and taking the fire exit to the roof. The pressure of the murder allegation had taken its toll. For the first time she saw a glint of fear in his eyes. He could wriggle his way out of most things in life, and now he wholly depended on her. She composed herself, leaning casually against the brittle window frame as a team of firearms officers burst into the room.

  ‘He’s not here,’ she said to Downes, her face taut. ‘He didn’t show.’ She wet her lips, tasting the dust that had risen after Nathan made his escape.

  * * *

  Ruby glared at Downes over the roof of the car as she flung open the passenger door. It made sense for her to accept his offer of a lift to the station given she had got there by taxi. The cavalry had gone ahead, disappointed by the no-show. After being briefed by Downes that Ruby was setting up the meet to arrest Nathan, they had no reason to doubt her words. But Ruby was too incensed to worry about repercussions and as Downes drove through the city to Shoreditch, she continued her sideways glances until she could bear the silence no longer.

  ‘Why did you do it, Jack? Why did you follow me?’

  DI Downes rammed the car into gear, his face illuminated by the headlights of oncoming traffic. ‘Because I’m trying to save your neck. I told Worrow that you were there to flush him out. So unless you want to be nicked for perverting the course of justice, leave the talking to me.’

  ‘The fact I’d leave anything to you implies some kind of trust and that doesn’t exist between us anymore,’ she said, her words tight.

  Satisfied that Nathan got away unseen, Ruby returned to the office, keeping her door firmly closed. She had hoped that Downes would have the sense to leave her alone, but as soon as he trotted downstairs from his meeting with DCI Worrow, he headed straight for her door. Ruby stared at her computer screen, wishing he would go away. She did not want to speak the bitter words lacing her tongue. Besides, she was caught red-handed and knew she had no right. True to his word, he was most likely smoothing things over with DCI Worrow to prevent any flack later on. They were under real pressure for a suspect arrest, and every failed attempt at capture was a bitter blow. Had she and Downes had a normal working relationship, she’d most likely be grovelling for forgiveness by now. But they were more than just sergeant and DI: he was her best friend. And only now, when anger seared through her like hot coals, did she realise just how close they had become.

  ‘Sulking now, are you?’ he said, standing over her as he waited for an answer.

  Bitterness bloomed in Ruby’s chest. She wanted to explain that her motives were good. That if he had trusted her, just this once, she would now have the name of their prime suspect. That was what angered her the most. He had ruined everything. There was no way the Crosbys would cooperate with the investigation now. ‘I think it’s best if you give me a few minutes alone.’ Ruby’s voice was strained, and she swallowed back the response not fitting for her DI.

  ‘Well, tough. We’re having this out whether you like it or not,’ Downes said, turning and closing the window blinds. From the corner of her eye, Ruby could see him deliver a hard stare to those who were not minding their own business in the office outside. Downes’s neck was tinged pink – a sure sign that DCI Worrow had grilled him for letting Nathan Crosby slip through his fingers.

  ‘You’ve got no right to be angry with me,’ Downes said, ‘when all I’ve done is look out for you.’

  Ruby turned to face him. Carrying the heat of her anger, her expression was enough to make him raise an eyebrow in response.

  She realised she was shaking, and she leant against her desk, clasping the edges of the wooden frame until her knuckles turned white. ‘You used me,’ she said, her words thick with emotion. ‘This friendship we’ve developed, please tell me it’s not just been about Nathan.’

  ‘What are you on about?’ Downes said, his voice rising to match Ruby’s.

  ‘You’ve wanted to collar him for years. All this time you’ve been getting close to me so you could fulfil your ambition of nicking a Crosby before your retirement.’

  ‘For feck’s sake, what’s gotten into you?’ Downes said. ‘You couldn’t be more wrong.’

  ‘I don’t believe you. I think you’re only too happy to pin this on him. The only reason you’re progressing the case with Danny Smedley is because you can’t have Lisa and Ellie’s murders linked.’

  ‘Those murders are nothing alike.’ Downes ran both hands through his hair. ‘And may I remind you that you’re the one that got Smedley charged. I told you to wait but, oh no, you had to go charging in there and arrest him.’

  ‘Yes, well. . . I may have got that wrong.’ She bit her bottom lip.

  ‘You’re the most exasperating copper I’ve ever met. You’ve so much potential, and all you do is defend a bunch of gangsters, putting your job at risk. And you say I’m using you?’ Downes laughed incredulously. ‘Open your eyes, will you? One of these days you’re going to land yourself in prison, and there won’t be a thing I can do about it.’

  ‘Nathan was just about to give me the name of the killer,’ Ruby said. ‘If you had held off just five minutes longer, we’d have him in custody by now.’

  ‘If I’d got there five minutes sooner, you mean. You’re chasing ghosts. The only killer is the one you let slip away.’

  Ruby straightened, her hands bunched into fists. ‘Why can’t you admit that, just this once, you got it wrong?’

  ‘You need to calm down,’ Downes said firmly. ‘I’m your superior officer. Have you forgotten that?’

  ‘Calm down?’ Ruby shouted. ‘Don’t you realise what you’ve done? How long do you think it’s going to take to get back to the Crosbys that I served Nathan up? Can you imagine their reactions? You’ve put my neck on the line. If anything happens to me, it’s all down to you.’

  Downes laid a hand on her shoulder. ‘Ruby, I. . .’

  Ruby shrugged it off as she turned away, her voice cold and measured. ‘Please. As my DI, I apologise for my disrespectful behaviour. Now can you please give me some time alone, before I say something else that I shouldn’t.’ She bowed her head, the weight of her troubles heavier now than ever. She listened as Downes approached the door, opened it slightly.

  ‘You can come around to mine… at least until this all blows over.’ His words were laced with a hint of regret.

  ‘I don’t think such behaviour would be fitting. As you said, you’re my superior officer,’ Ruby said, the heat leaving her voice. ‘I think from now on we should keep things on a professional basis only.’

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  ‘I’m telling you, mate, the job’s fucked,’ a low voice said. The words were followed by mumbling agreements as the group of officers groaned about forced overtime and cancelled rest days.

  Ruby smiled. Last month they were moaning because overtime had been binned due to budget cuts. You did not join the police if you wanted an easy life. It was all-consuming, with room for little else. The failed marriages in her division were a testament to that.

  ‘What do you think, Sarge?’ PC Jules Forrest turned to her. The young officer was sporting a black eye, no doubt the real source of his annoyance. She had come to know him in the past few months d
uring their shared smoke breaks.

  She stubbed out her cigarette. ‘It’s the nature of the beast, I’m afraid, and it’s not likely to change.’ Slipping a compact from her pocket, she quickly applied a layer of red lipstick before heading back inside. It was her warpaint, and she hoped it displayed a confidence she did not feel inside.

  Ruby took her usual seat at the end of the well-worn briefing table. Years of meetings were etched in the wood, evidenced as coffee stains and inky pen marks. She mentally counted heads as detectives filed inside. Overhead, the lights flickered on, the thunderous weather doing little to illuminate the room.

  DCI Worrow stood to lead the briefing. As always, the detective chief inspector was immaculately turned out. Her pale skin held a delicate lacing of make-up, and she spoke with authority as she commanded the attention of her team. Speaking in short, stiff bursts, she sounded as if she was reading from a police procedural book. Only last week Ruby had caught DC Ash Baker joking about how she spoke to her boyfriend during sex. Despite her reservations, Ruby still stood up for her, because life in the police force was hard enough for women without their male counterparts turning against them.

  ‘We believe that Ellie Mason was held captive for at least two of the three days she was reported missing. As you see from the autopsy report, this was not a frenzied attack. Ellie worked as a prostitute, but as far as we’re aware she did not entertain clients at her flat. CSI have made a detailed examination for blood, fibres, prints, hair and semen – there’s no evidence to suggest she was held captive at that address. The fact that rat droppings were found in her hair seems to cement this theory. One of our top priorities is to find the site where she was held.’

  ‘What about the Crosby house, Ma’am?’ DC Ash Baker said, raising his pencil. ‘Has that been searched?’

  DCI Worrow’s face tightened at the sound of the Crosby’s name. ‘Thoroughly. The family has been most cooperative. DS Preston is liaising with them. Do you have any updates for us, Ruby?’

  Ruby straightened in her chair. ‘Apart from their statement? Not yet. They’re still maintaining that Nathan Crosby is away on business and they’re unable to get a hold of him.’

  ‘Indeed,’ DCI Worrow said. ‘It’s a shame that lead of yours fell flat. He’ll have to return at some point, so it’s best we build as strong a case as we can for when we arrest him. Keep them on side. You’ve obtained some useful intelligence on their shady dealings. Keep chipping away.’

  Ruby nodded. She had been desperately trying to get in touch with Nathan since he abandoned their meet, but he had gone completely off the radar. Lenny and Frances had refused to answer her calls and, when she turned up at the address, the electric gates had remained firmly closed. A quick Facebook message to her daughter, Cathy, had ascertained that Ruby was well and truly in the doghouse with Lenny; given the mood he was in, it was best she kept away. At least Cathy was OK. It was worth the extra expense of Wi-Fi just for their late-night chats. It seemed an odd set-up for mother and daughter, just speaking online, but Cathy was a grown woman. Ruby knew it would take time to gain her daughter’s trust, and a brief chat on Facebook or Skype was better than nothing at all.

  Her attention returned to briefing as Worrow spoke of the search so far. They did not have the manpower to search every derelict building and outhouse in East London, and Ruby had visited enough rat-infested flats to know the search might never reach a conclusion. To her, the answer lay in Ellie’s client list. Why else had she been found dressed up, unless it was a fairy-tale fetish of some kind? Now that Ellie’s computer had been seized, Ruby could only hope that answers lay within.

  ‘I want local hospitals and custody suites checked,’ Worrow said. ‘Ellie was streetwise. I know the autopsy suggests there wasn’t a struggle, but the fact her fingernails have been cleaned and bleached makes me think she may have fought back. Check for anyone that may have been booked in with defence wounds. It may well be our suspect. Ellie may have been left alone for a period of time. I want all our local sex offenders spoken to, and intel gathered on recent prison releases. Danny Smedley may not be responsible for this one, but he may not be working alone. Who did he befriend in prison? Anyone handy with a scalpel?’ Worrow continued with her taskings, ensuring all team members had plenty to keep them occupied, along with their existing workloads.

  ‘What about house-to-house?’ Worrow asked. ‘Any suspect descriptions?’

  ‘It’s all very nondescript,’ DC Ludgrove said, having exhausted local enquiries in the area where Ellie’s body was found.

  Worrow glared at Luddy. ‘So you’re telling me that someone has dumped a body of a young woman dressed as Snow White on top of a tombstone in broad daylight and nobody has noticed anything unusual?’

  ‘If they have, they’re not talking,’ Luddy said, a flush rising beneath his shirt collar. ‘A couple of people said they thought it was kids messing around.’

  ‘And they’ve no description whatsoever?’

  ‘No, Ma’am.’ Luddy shook his head. ‘There was mention of someone pushing a wheelchair, and we found indentations in the grass. It’s possible that’s how the body was transported.’

  Ruby raised an eyebrow. This was fresh evidence. ‘They were definitely pushing it?’ she said. ‘It wasn’t an electric model then?’

  ‘Yes, that’s what they said. There was no mention of a Snow White costume, though; the person in the wheelchair was covered in a blanket apparently.’

  ‘Check local CCTV again. See if you can catch our wheelchair pusher in the vicinity,’ Worrow instructed.

  Ruby tapped her pen against her notepad. A wheelchair lent further credibility to her theory of someone who had access to hospital equipment. The killer was handy with a knife. Had the Crosby family links to people in the medical profession? And if so, who?

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  The text came with a tone so insistent that Ruby knew who it was without reading the name: Frances, the one-woman powerhouse, who had immediately responded to Ruby’s request to meet. She tutted as she stared at the text, an invite – no, command – to meet for lunch. God, that woman, she had no clue how the police worked. Most days, lunch comprised of dropping crumbs over a keyboard as she bit into a tuna sandwich. As if she had time to meet in some swish hotel restaurant for tea and cakes. The best she could do was to grant her twenty minutes in the local café.

  On the junction of Shepherdess Walk and City Road, the Shepherdess Café was walking distance from the station. It was one of the few places left that delivered an East End vibe. A proper London café as far as Ruby was concerned. She grinned at the thought of Frances, with her perfect blonde hair and designer clothes, sitting with her legs crossed in her local café. But then Frances had not always been that way. She had grown up in an East End terrace, just like her.

  Frances surprised her by accepting the offer straightaway.

  * * *

  Less than an hour later Ruby found herself sitting across from Frances, staring into her mug of tea. Bitterness and resentment laced Ruby’s thoughts. They had a common interest: Nathan. If only Frances had been a better mother, brought them up with some sense of normality, then they would not be in a mess like they were today. It all stemmed from his violent background – instigated by Nathan’s father, while Frances stood on, failing to protect the two people that needed her the most. Because of that people were dying. A revenge attack on innocent victims because of something the Crosbys did years ago. And so it went around and around, a nightmarish carousel of violence and hate. Just how many more people had to get hurt?

  ‘You look tired,’ Frances said, looking entirely at home as she folded her arms across the table. It was just how she used to sit when she and Ruby’s mother chatted in the kitchen of their East End terrace years before.

  Frances, in comparison, was glowing. Ruby eyed her suspiciously. She had probably been for a facial that morning, and a spot of light shopping. She had never worked a day in her life; at least, n
othing that would bring in an honest income. It was another reason why Ruby was hesitant to move into the luxury flat that Nathan had bought her – the last thing she wanted was to become like her. Ruby cut her thoughts short. Frances was a mother and still held concern over her son.

  ‘I’ve been working round the clock,’ Ruby said wearily. ‘Have you heard from Nathan?’

  ‘No, have you?’ Frances took one look at her builder’s brew tea and pushed it away. Her taste had apparently refined over the years.

  Ruby frowned. If there was one person in the world Nathan kept in touch with, it was his mother. ‘No,’ she said, the grip on her own mug tightening. ‘Are you worried?’

  ‘Worried enough to come here and speak to you. He’s not answering his phone, and he usually checks in every day. I’ve spoken to Tweedy, and he hasn’t heard a word.’

  Ruby’s shoulders dropped an inch with relief. So, Frances knew little of her encounter with Nathan. But why hadn’t Steve anything to report? Tweedy Steve was the closest friend that Nathan had, and the three of them had known each other since school. Apart from her, he was Nathan’s closest confidante. The fact he hadn’t spoken to him launched a little rocket of worry. ‘Are you sure?’ she said. ‘It’s not been long. Maybe Nathan asked him to keep quiet.’

  ‘No chance.’ Frances pursed her lips at the very possibility of being lied to. ‘I’m afraid whoever’s trying to set him up has hurt him. Everyone knows Nathan’s gone underground. Maybe that’s what they wanted all along, so the police wouldn’t treat his disappearance as suspicious. Have you any idea where he might be?’