Peter Robinson - Bad Boy

“She must have made a note of it when she dropped by my cottage.

Seeing a strange car there would have struck her as odd under any circumstances.”

“Maybe. But that’s all there was. A car number. No time, place, or date. She could have seen it anytime that day, or even before. This wasn’t her official notebook, you understand.”

“But still…it’s a bit too much of a coincidence, isn’t it?”

“Yes. We’ve got men out on foot and in patrol cars looking, as well as the search and rescue team. Now we can narrow our search, concentrate on the moors. But it’s pretty wild up there, as you know. It looks as if they may have spent the night in a ruined barn about three miles from the cottage.”

“What do you think?” Banks asked.

“I think a city boy like McCready will be feeling too exposed up there. Twelve miles of bad roads, or no roads at all for the most part. He’ll want to find the nearest large village or small town and probably steal a car. Head for the city.”

“Risky.”

“Everything’s a risk since he shot Annie. And the stakes are high.”

“I know,” said Banks. “The nearest village is Baldersghyll. It’s not very big, though.”

“The local station there’s been alerted. There’s more. The car’s registered to a Victor Mallory. Lives in Horsforth, Leeds.”

“Stolen?”

Gervaise shook her head. “I don’t think so. Maybe. But according to Winsome, Victor Mallory comes up on West Yorkshire’s radar as one of McCready’s suspicious cronies.”

“Any connection with The Farmer, or with Ciaran and Darren?”

“Not that we know of.”

“So Jaff borrowed the car from this Mallory?”

“Looks that way. It’s the best lead we’ve got so far.”

“Anyone talked to him yet?”

“The Leeds police are keeping an eye on his house for us. I thought, perhaps, it would be a good place for you to start. And while you’re down there, you could have a word with The Farmer, too. But tread softly.”

“I promise,” said Banks. “And thanks. I mean for letting me in on this. I won’t let you down.”

“Better not,” said Gervaise. “Or you’ll be the one in the kennel licking your balls. They’ll hurt so much.”

ON HIS way back to the office, Banks bumped into the female AFO officer he had met in the hospital. She looked as if she had been lurking in the corridor.

“Any news?” she asked as he opened his office door.

“Come in,” Banks said, and she followed him. “Sit down. PC Newell, isn’t it?”

Nerys sat. “Powell, sir.”

“Right,” said Banks. “I remember now. You must excuse me. I’m a bit jet-lagged. Usually I have a much better memory for names and faces.”

“That’s all right, sir. I wouldn’t expect you to remember me. I was just worried about Annie…about DI Cabbot, that’s all. I wanted to ask if you have any news.”

“No good news, I’m afraid. It’s just a matter of waiting, the doctor said. They’ll know more if she makes it through the first twenty-four hours.”

“You mean there’s a chance she might not?”

“There’s always a chance.”

Nerys bit her lip. “I’m sorry to hear that,” she said. “I know that you and her were…you know. I know she means a lot to you.”

“It was a long time ago,” said Banks.

“Yes, sir. But I’m sure she still means a lot to you. You couldn’t just forget someone like her, could you?”

“If I might ask,” Banks went on, “why all the concern on your part? I mean, other than that for a fellow officer wounded in the line of duty?”

Nerys turned away and began to fidget. “Like I said at the hospital, sir, I feel a bit responsible. We were working together. And we talked. She gave me some advice. That’s all.”

“Responsible? How could you be?”

“I don’t mean it’s logical, sir. It’s just…you know…the call…the Taser.”

“You’re the officer who-”

“No, sir. It wasn’t me. That was Warby. PC Warburton. But I was with him. I’m his partner. He’s a mate.”

“Right. I see. And just how does that make you responsible for what happened to Annie?”

“It doesn’t. Not directly, sir. I just feel partly to blame. If things had gone differently…”

Banks leaned back in his chair. “Look, PC Powell,” he said. “If we all adopted that attitude we’d never get anywhere. If. If. If. I could just as well blame myself for not being here when Juliet Doyle came to see me. If I had been, things would have been different again, wouldn’t they?” And my daughter probably wouldn’t be God knows where in the grip of some psycho, or Annie lying in a hospital bed close to death’s door, he thought. “You were only doing your job,” he said. “Don’t start assuming the burden of guilt, second guessing. There’s no future in that.”

“Yes, sir. I mean, I’m not complaining. Everyone’s been very good. There’s lots of support. Lots of choices. It’s nowhere near as bad as I thought it would be.”

Banks smiled. He knew she meant Chambers, who liked to pride himself on the fact that his name and reputation went before him and sent a chill up everyone’s spine, put the fear of God in them. “Hang in there.”

“I’d like to help.”

“Help what?”

“The investigation. DI Cabbot’s shooting, the-”

“Hold on a minute,” said Banks. “Aren’t you under suspension?”

“No, sir. They offered me a spot of gardening leave, but I don’t want it. I don’t think we did anything wrong, and I want to keep working. There’s no requirement says I have to take leave or should be suspended. It’s just that nobody quite knows what to do with me, where to reassign me. And I like to think DI Cabbot is a friend.”

“I understand your position, believe me,” said Banks, “and I appreciate it. But it’s not going to happen.”

“Why not?”

“For a start, you’re a PC and an AFO. You’re not CID or Major Crimes.”

“It’s not as if DC would be a promotion.”

“I know that. But those transfers take time, paperwork, official approval. And we don’t have time.”

“There must be something. I can do other things than just shoot guns. Temporary assignment? Surely there’s some way I could help?” She seemed so crestfallen and forlorn that Banks felt sorry for her. But there was nothing he could do. He knew he was already in a precarious position himself, and if he encouraged young PC Powell in her ambitions, he could get them both dismissed. “I’m sorry,” he said. “There’s no place for you here right now. Besides, I don’t have any power in the matter. It’s not my case.”

“But you could put in a good word for me.”

“It wouldn’t be any use.”

“I’m a trained firearms officer. I’m good at what I do.”

“I’m sure you are,” said Banks, suppressing a smile, “but that’s another problem right there.”

“What is?”

“That you’re a firearms officer. And that you were one of the firearms officers who entered the Doyle house. Whether you agree with it or not, you and your partner are under investigation. Also, we don’t need an Authorised Firearms Officer on this case.”

“With all due respect, sir, this man you’re after is armed and dangerous.”

“I’m aware of that.”

“There are rumors…”

“What rumors?”

“Just stories going around. That your daughter is somehow involved. That makes you emotionally involved in the case.”

So the word was out. Banks wasn’t particularly surprised. In many ways, a police station was just like any other workplace. Rumors and gossip abounded. “I wouldn’t believe everything you hear,” he said stiffly.