Val McDermid - Crack Down

I shoved the finished prints into a folder, and headed downstairs to the Mexican restaurant to fortify myself for another soul-destroying visit to the cells. The place was empty, except for one guy sitting alone at a table towards the rear of the restaurant. He gave me a brief glance as I entered, then returned to the magazine he had propped up beside his bowl of chilli. With a jolt of surprise, I recognized the menacing bouncer from the Lousy Hand. If he was a regular here — and I couldn’t see any other reason for frequenting the place on a bank holiday Monday, since the food isn’t that great — it explained why he’d seemed familiar at the club. Relieved to have cleared that one up, I settled into a window table with my back to his cold eyes and ordered some guacamole and a plate of frijoles. As I ate, I thought about the evening ahead.

Now I’d calmed down, I was pleased Alexis had fixed up the brainstorming session, because I suspected that the dynamic between the four of us might just spark off some fresh ideas. I was desperate for any insight that might take us a step nearer getting Richard out of jail. The hardest thing about being grown up is realizing there are no magic formulas to release the ones we love from pain. Maybe that’s why I enjoy computer games so much; you get to be God.

The girls were ready and waiting when I got back from the nick. Alexis had taken charge in my absence. I found it hard to recognize my living room. A flip chart on an easel had materialized from somewhere, and she’d arranged the chairs so we could all see it. She’d also found my cache of Australian Chardonnay and distributed glasses to the other two. I mumbled that I’d stick with the vodka and disappeared into the kitchen to fix myself a lemon Absolut with freshly squeezed pink grapefruit juice. By the time I got back, Alexis was copying some complicated tree structure from her notebook on to the flip chart. Ruth and Della looked as bemused as I felt.

‘Alexis, I don’t want to be difficult, but…’

‘Chris is putting Davy to bed, so you don’t have to worry about him butting in, if that’s what’s bugging you,’ she said, not even pausing.

‘It wasn’t, actually. I just wondered what you were doing.’

‘I need the diagram to explain about Jammy’s empire,’ Alexis said in the condescending tones I use to small children and she uses to news editors.

‘Maybe Kate could bring us up to date,’ Ruth said. ‘Then perhaps we’d all have a clue what you’re up to, Alexis.’ Ever the diplomat.

It took a disturbingly short time to fill everyone in on my weekend activities. ‘I waited till James went into the house, then I came home,’ I finished up. ‘Oh, and I’ve developed and printed up the films I shot in Carlisle.’

There was a slight pause. I could see Alexis gathering herself together to leap into the breach when Ruth said, ‘I’m impressed, Kate. When you told me how little we had to go on, I thought we had as much chance of establishing the identity of the real criminals as I have of becoming Lord Chief Justice.’

‘You’re right, Kate’s done an impressive job, but the Drugs Squad are going to have mixed feelings about it,’ Della said ruefully. ‘They’ve been chasing this crack epidemic for some time now, and while there are senior officers who are going to be bloody glad to get a solid handle on it, a lot of people are going to be very pissed off at being shown up by a private eye. And a woman private eye at that.’

‘Tell me about it,’ I sighed.

‘And then there’s the question of the accused,’ Della went on. ‘I’ve only been in Manchester a matter of months, but that’s long enough to know that Eliot James is a name that means money, power and influence.’

Alexis finally managed to get a word in. She jumped to her feet. ‘And that’s where I come in,’ she announced. ‘I’ve been doing some digging into Mr Eliot James.’ She picked up her marker pen and attacked the flip chart. For a full fifteen minutes she blinded us with science, taking us on a whirlwind tour of Jammy James’s leisure and property empire, his constant efforts to muscle in on the Olympic bid consortium, the parlous state of his marriage and the debts, loans and mortgages that, added together, put him in what building societies euphemistically call a negative equity situation.

‘It’s like Maxwell,’ she concluded with a flourish. ‘On the surface, it looks like everything’s hunky-dory. But underneath, there’s this huge iceberg of debt ready to smash into Jammy’s hull and turn Tonik into the Titanic.’

‘She’s got a way with words, that girl,’ I said. ‘Ever thought of becoming a writer, Alexis?’

Della was shaking her head in amazement. ‘I think I’ll just go and shoot myself now,’ she said. ‘This has been a bad evening for the police. First, Kate does the Drugs Squad’s job. And now you do my job. From what you’ve said, it looks very like our Mr James is trading while insolvent, so we’re looking at one criminal offence at least. I think when the boys from the DS have finished with him, I’ll be wanting a word.’

Ruth, who had been unusually quiet, said, ‘It certainly explains why he needs the kind of cash injection that the drugs trade can bring. It does, however, give me a slight problem.’

‘You’re not his brief, are you?’ I asked, the cold hand of panic squeezing my chest.

‘Thankfully, no,’ Ruth said. ‘But he does play golf with Peter. My husband,’ she added for Della’s benefit. Peter hadn’t been at Mortensen and Branningan’s Christmas party, where the two women had first met. ‘And he’s supposed to be coming to dinner on Saturday.’

‘Who with?’ Alexis demanded cheekily. ‘The wife or the mistress? Both, incidentally, called Sue. I suppose that way he doesn’t run the risk of using the wrong name in bed.’

‘Ignore her; it’s gone to her head, getting something right for once,’ I said.

‘Yo, wait till I break this little gem in tomorrow’s paper!’ Alexis exclaimed.

‘No way!’ Ruth shouted.

‘Don’t you dare !’ Della thundered in unison. ‘We want Jammy James nailed down watertight, not leaping up and down about trial by media.’

‘Never mind that,’ I butted in. ‘Personally, I don’t give a toss about nailing Jammy James. This is about getting Richard out of jail. And you printing daft stories in the Chronicle is not the way to do that, so forget it, Alexis, OK? What comes next, Ruth?’

Ruth spoke slowly, measuring what she said as she spoke. ‘Kate’s right, Alexis. I know this must be burning a hole in your notebook, but I think it would be disastrous for Richard if you wrote a story about this.’

Alexis pulled a face. ‘All right,’ she sighed. ‘But when I can write about it, I want all of you to talk to me on the record.’

We all nodded wearily. ‘Ruth?’ I asked.

‘Kate, you’re going to have to talk to the police. You’re also going to have to persuade them to move quickly; the sooner the better from Richard’s point of view.’

Della interrupted. ‘On that point, they’ll already be anxious about how current your information is. These days, most drug dealers alter their distribution patterns every few weeks. Eliot James’s team might not be doing that, but as far as the Drugs Squad is concerned, stress that this is up-to-the-minute info and the situation could change any day. There is one significant gap in your evidence, however, which might make them cautious.’

‘What’s that? Something I’ve got time to fix?’ I asked anxiously. I’d been right to decide I needed other people’s eyes on this case.

Della pulled a face. ‘It’s not exactly a matter of time. It’s a matter of legality. We don’t know what’s inside this shed out at the airport. If it’s just an empty shell, it’s not going to be easy to establish a direct connection between James and Fitzgerald. A good brief would argue that James had gone there for reasons entirely unconnected with the drug trade; he could even postulate a hypothetical third party that they were both there to meet.’