Let the Dead Speak (Maeve Kerrigan #7)

‘You could too.’ His glowering increased a notch. ‘There was no need for it. I had it under control.’

I laughed. ‘Oh, I see. Sorry. You’re annoyed that I didn’t leave it up to you to deal with a volatile situation single-handed. I should have hung back and let you be a hero.’

‘You put yourself in harm’s way for no reason.’

‘I was there to help you. To back you up.’ I frowned. ‘Speaking of which, what happened to Georgia?’

‘She’s around here somewhere.’

I wondered if he hadn’t noticed her freezing in terror and completely failing to be of any use. ‘Was she OK?’

He shrugged. I don’t know and I don’t care. ‘Now tell me the rest.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘What took you so long? Why did we get to the hospital before you and Turner did when I had to explain what had happened to a hundred coppers and their dogs? I managed to get out of arresting Norris myself but it still took a good half hour to get out of Valerian Road. So where were you?’

‘Turner wanted to talk to me,’ I said.

‘Wanted to? Or did you take the opportunity to question him when he was so out of it he couldn’t manage to lie to you?’

‘Of course not. I’m not you.’

‘I wouldn’t do that,’ he said softly.

‘You would. In a heartbeat. You wouldn’t think twice about it.’ I sighed, frustrated. ‘Look, he had some information he wanted to share with me. It’s hearsay but it’s interesting. Apparently one of Chloe’s stepbrothers was molesting her and that’s why she came back to London early.’

Derwent frowned. ‘So no one was expecting her.’

‘Nope.’

‘Worth a word with the stepbrother.’

‘That’s what I thought.’

He contemplated me for a second. ‘All right. What else?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Telling you that would have taken two minutes. Three, if you were being extra-chatty.’

‘Um, he also told me that he was in a relationship with Chloe. He used to hang out with her in Harold Lowe’s house.’

‘Is that so? Why did he tell you that?’

‘I asked.’

‘And he just told you.’

I looked at him warily. ‘I didn’t do anything wrong.’

‘So what did you do?’ Derwent asked, his voice soft. ‘Did you threaten him?’

‘No. Nothing of the sort.’

‘Did he talk?’

‘A bit. Enough.’

‘But it’s unusable, Maeve. You know that, don’t you?’ Another step closer. ‘If he’s charged with anything, you’ve given him a nice angle to exploit. You didn’t caution him.’

‘He’s not going to be charged, Josh. He hasn’t done anything wrong, except for pissing off Oliver Norris.’ I stood up very straight, flattening my shoulder blades against the wall. I was getting annoyed now. ‘What I mainly wanted to know was what Chloe told him about her stepbrother, which is not admissible as evidence. You know that, don’t you?’

‘Don’t get smart with me.’

‘Don’t take me into a deserted corridor to bully me, then.’ My anger blazed white-hot. I didn’t usually let it out at work, and never at Derwent. For one reason, he gave it straight back.

‘I’m not bullying you. I’m looking out for you.’ He leaned forward, jabbing a finger too close to my face. ‘Do you really think Burt isn’t looking for a reason to get rid of you? Do you really think she won’t hang it on you if this case goes bad? Don’t you see that you’re in the firing line now you’re a sergeant? You actually have some responsibilities now, believe it or not, and there are consequences for fucking up. I can’t protect you any more.’

‘Stop poking at me,’ I said, knocking his hand away. ‘As if you ever protected me anyway. What I recall is me getting you out of trouble, more than once.’

He bit his lip, suddenly sheepish, letting me see a rare flash of the charm that could persuade anyone to do just about anything. ‘I remember. Once or twice.’

‘Several times,’ I said. ‘And I think you are massively overstating how angry Burt would be. She doesn’t hate me that much. Why would she want to get rid of me?’

‘Because she knows if you go, I’ll go.’

The words hung in the air. Derwent looked as if he wished he could unsay them. I was too surprised to stay angry. ‘What did you say?’

‘Nothing.’

‘That wasn’t nothing.’ I closed my eyes for a second. ‘I got Turner to agree to give me a statement. He’ll repeat what he told me in the car. He’s willing to cooperate fully.’

‘And if he’s the killer?’

‘There isn’t one shred of evidence to suggest that he is.’

‘Doesn’t mean he isn’t who we’re looking for.’

‘I know.’ I tilted my head to one side, considering him. ‘You know, talking to him like that is exactly what you’d do. Why is it OK for you to do it and not me?’

‘You’re not me,’ Derwent said. ‘And you shouldn’t try to be me.’

He pulled open the door and disappeared through it, leaving me on my own in the empty corridor. A tap dripped somewhere, too loud in the silence he left behind him. Slowly, thoughtfully, I found my way back to William Turner. He had his eyes closed and I nodded at Chris Pettifer to let him know he could go. He stopped beside me.

‘You OK?’

I didn’t want to think about how I looked. ‘Long day.’

He hesitated as if he wanted to say something else, then went out, pulling the curtain closed behind him.

‘It’s you.’ Turner hadn’t opened his eyes, I would have sworn.

‘Yeah.’ I sat down in the chair by the bed and sighed, feeling exhaustion settle in my limbs.

‘Are you going to go and see Nolan?’

‘Yes.’

‘Are you going to arrest him?’

‘Not unless Chloe makes a statement about what he did. No Chloe, no case.’

His knuckles shone white for a second as they tightened on the blanket that was spread over him. ‘Can you scare the shit out of him?’

‘Probably.’

A gleam of amber from Turner’s eye. ‘I’m glad I told you about it.’

‘Me too.’

‘I would tell you if I knew where Chloe was. I meant what I said. I want her to come home.’

‘Me too,’ I said again.





22


Brian Emery’s face fell when he saw me standing on his doorstep, and I suppose I couldn’t blame him for not rolling out the welcome mat.

‘What do you want?’

‘Are Nolan and Nathan here?’

‘The boys?’ He swallowed. ‘What do you – what have you heard? Did Chloe—’

‘No, Chloe didn’t. She’s still missing, as you probably know.’

He sagged. ‘I thought there might be news, when I saw the car. I thought – if they’d found her – I thought she might be with you. But then I saw that it was only the two of you and I thought you wouldn’t have come yourselves if there was good news. There would have been a phone call. I was expecting – I was hoping for a phone call.’

I felt myself soften towards Brian Emery. He was hollow-eyed, his hair seeming thinner than the last time I’d seen him, the cuff of his jumper stained with something that looked like grease.

Jane Casey's books