Peter James: Dead Man's Grip

Cleo placed Roy’s hand on her swollen abdomen and said, ‘Bump’s busy today.’

He could feel their child moving around.

‘Probably because you just ate a chocolate ice cream, right? You said he always becomes energetic when you eat chocolate – and that he’s probably going to become a chocaholic.’

‘ He? ’ she said quizzically.

Grace grinned. ‘You’re the one who keeps going on about all these old wives’ tales, that if your baby’s high up, or sticking out a lot, it’s going to be a boy.’

She shrugged. ‘We could easily find out.’

‘Do you want to?’ he asked.

‘No. Do you? You didn’t last time we discussed it.’

‘I will love our child just as much whether it is a boy or a girl. I’ll love it because it is our child.’

‘Are you sure, Roy? You wouldn’t want it to be a boy, so he could be an action man like my hero, Roy Grace? The claustrophobic who goes down a deep tunnel. The man who’s scared of heights who climbs power stations? The crap swimmer who dives into a harbour and saves a boy’s life?’

Grace shrugged. ‘I’m a copper. Sometimes in my job you can’t make choices based on what you’re afraid of or not. The day you do is the day you wake up and know you’re in the wrong career.’

‘You love it, don’t you?’

‘I didn’t love climbing down that ladder into the tunnel. And I was shit scared climbing up on to the power station roof. But at least young Tyler’s going to be OK. And to see his mother’s face when we took her to him at the Sussex County, where he was being checked over – that was something else. That’s why I do this job. I can’t think of any other job in the world where you could make a difference like that.’

‘I can,’ Cleo said, and kissed him on the forehead. ‘It doesn’t matter what job you do, you’d always make a difference. You’re that kind of person. That’s why I love you.’

He gave her a sideways look. ‘Do you?’

‘Yup.’ She shrugged and sipped her drink. ‘You know, sometimes I wonder about you and Sandy.’

‘In what sense?’

‘You told me that you tried for several years to have a child, without success, right?’

He nodded.

‘If you had succeeded, what would have happened? Would you and I – you know – be together?’

‘I’ve no idea. But I can tell you one thing, I’m glad we are. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me in my life. You’re my rock.’

‘You’re mine too.’

She squeezed his hand. ‘Let me ask you something. Did Sandy ever call you her rock ?’

Roy Grace hugged her. After some minutes he said, ‘You know what they say about the past being another country?’

Cleo nodded.

‘So let’s not go there.’

He kissed her.

‘Good plan,’ she agreed.

‘The time is 8.30 a.m., Wednesday 12 May,’ Roy Grace read from his notes to his team in MIR-1. ‘This is an update on Operation Violin . To bring you up to speed on the latest regarding the unknown suspect, missing, presumed drowned, this is the start of the fifth day of the search of Shoreham Harbour by the Specialist Search Unit. One development yesterday was the recovery of a Toyota Yaris car from thirty feet of water at Aldrington Basin, close to the location where Ewan Preece was discovered in the white van. The vehicle bears the last known licence plates of the suspect. It is now undergoing intensive forensic examination.’

Duncan Crocker raised a hand. ‘Chief, we haven’t heard anything from Ford Prison regarding the death of Warren Tulley. Has there been any progress in that enquiry that could shed any light on our suspect?’

Grace turned to Potting. ‘Norman, do you have anything for us?’

‘I spoke to prison officer Lisa Setterington this afternoon, guv, and to the West Area Major Crime Branch Team, who are investigating. They are preparing to charge their original suspect, Tulley’s fellow inmate Lee Rogan.’

Grace thanked him, then went on, ‘We are continuing to maintain protection on Carly Chase and her family for the time being. I’m waiting for intelligence from the US which may help us to decide how long this should go on and in what form.’

This intelligence came sooner than Grace expected. As he left the briefing, his phone beeped, telling him he had a missed call and voicemail. It was from Detective Investigator Lanigan.

As soon as he got to his office, Grace called him back, mindful that it was the middle of the night in New York.

Lanigan, as ever sounding like he had a mouth full of marbles, answered immediately, seeming wide awake.

‘Something strange going on here, Roy,’ he said. ‘Might be significant to you.’

‘What’s happened?’

‘Well, it’s not like I’m shedding any tears, you know. Fernanda Revere’s brother, Ricky Giordino – son of Sal Giordino, right?’

‘The Mafia capo who’s doing a bunch of life sentences?’

‘You got him. Well, I think I told you, Ricky’s the guy we reckon would have hired the guy who’s been causing all your problems, right?’

‘You did.’

‘Well, I thought you should know, Ricky Giordino was found dead in his apartment a couple of hours ago. Pretty gruesome. Sounds like some kind of a hit. You know – wise guys on wise guys kind of thing. Strapped to his bed with his dick cut off – looks like he bled to death from that. Had it jammed in his mouth and held in place with duct tape. Also looks like whoever did it cut his balls off and took them with him.’

‘Before or after he was dead?’ Grace asked.

Lanigan laughed. ‘Well, with a guy like that, I’d want the best for him, know what I’m saying?’

‘Absolutely!’

‘So let’s hope it was before. Oh – and there’s one other thing – this is why I thought you might be interested. The perp left a video camera running at the scene.’

Yossarian lay in his usual place, shaded from the midday sun, just inside the permanently open patio doors, dozing. Once a day he got interrupted by the woman who brought him food and changed the water in his bowl. He would eat the food, drink some of the water and then return to his dozing.

He missed his associate. Missed the runs up in the hills and the days out on the boat, when he got to gulp down endless quantities of fresh fish.

But today felt different.

There was a vibe. He felt excited. Every few minutes, after he woke from his doze, he’d pad around the inside of his home, then go outside for a few moments into the hot sunlight, then back to the shade.

He was just dozing off once more when he heard the sound of the front door opening.

It was a different sound from the one the woman made. This was a sound he recognized. His tail began to wag. Then he jumped to his feet and ran to the door, barking excitedly.

His associate was home.

His associate stroked him and made some nice sounds.

‘Hey, good to see you, boy. How’ve you been?’

His associate put his case down and opened it, then took out a small white plastic bag. He walked over to the empty food bowl on the floor, in the shade, near the patio door.

‘Bought you a treat!’ he said. ‘A special delicacy, all the way from New York. How about that?’

Yossarian stared at his associate expectantly. Then he looked down at his bowl. Two small oval shapes dropped into it with a soft thud , thud . He wolfed them down, then stared at his associate again, wanting more.

Tooth shook his head. He didn’t do quantity.

He did quality.

The office of the Yacht-Club Rheindelta was a small white wooden building on the edge of the vast Bodensee. They were taking a week’s vacation and she thought it would be fun if they did a dinghy-sailing course together. He had been really keen when she had mooted the idea.