Val McDermid - The Vanishing Point

‘You don’t scare me, Joshu. I’m not the same woman who fell in love with you.’

Now it was his turn for scorn. ‘Listen to you. You’ve got no idea. You need to remember who knows your secrets. How do you think your precious fans will like it when they find out you’ve been taking them for a ride this past year? You and your airhead cousin – you won’t last five minutes when I tell my story.’

From where I was standing, I could see Scarlett stiffen. For a moment, I thought he’d trumped her ace. But yet again, I’d misjudged her. She took a couple of steps closer to the gate and tipped her head back to look Joshu in the face. ‘You think? It’s me the public loves, not you. They’ll totally get that I had to deal with your scumbag behaviour. You’ll be the one who gets savaged for being a pig. And don’t forget, your hands are as dirty as mine. You’re the one who’s been touting Leanne all round town as your missus. Either you were in on the whole thing, in which case you’re as bad as me. Or you’re too fucking dim to know the woman you’re out on the razz with isn’t your wife. So don’t you dare threaten me, you worthless piece of shit.’

He tried to launch himself at her over the gate. But the sloping bonnet of the Transit was too much for him and he slid out of sight, swearing. There was a clatter and a crash and a yelp then more swearing. ‘I’m not done with you, bitch,’ he yelled from the other side of the gate. The van door slammed, the engine raced and the tyres screamed on the road. Within seconds, the usual early morning sounds of birdsong and the distant hum of traffic were the only soundtrack.

Scarlett kicked out savagely at the gate. ‘Bastard,’ she spat. She turned back to face us and gave a crooked smile. ‘First blood to the bimbo, I think.’

First blood, but not the last.

22

The first thing Detective Sergeant Nick Nicolaides did when he got to his car was to make a list. He liked lists. They almost made him believe the world was tractable.

Talk to Charlie

Track down Pete Matthews

Check whether Megan the Stalker is still under lock and key

Double check Scarlett’s mum and sister are where they should be

Is Leanne still in Spain? Ask Steph about her relationship with Jimmy

Check out Joshu’s family

The first item on the list was the one he didn’t want to do from the office. Dr Charlie Flint was a psychiatrist and former offender profiler who had only recently been reinstated after a controversial suspension. The whole process had turned Charlie into a pariah as far as the police were concerned. Which was why he didn’t want to make the call where Broad bent could overhear it. But Nick and Charlie went back a long way. Back when he’d been studying psychology at university and running a lucrative drug-dealing business on the side, Charlie had stepped in and given him a harsh ultimatum. Stop it or she would shop him to the police. Her intervention had saved Nick from his adolescent arrogance and he knew he owed this life he loved to her. ‘It’s not that I liked you,’ she had later told him. ‘I just hated to see a good mind wasted.’

She’d been teasing him, of course. In spite of – or perhaps because of – his complicated past, they’d become friends. Not that he was short of friends. Few of them were cops, but there were plenty of musicians, both professional and amateur. But Charlie was the only person in his circle these days who knew how close he’d come to a very different life from the one he lived now. When things got tough, it made a difference to have someone completely trustworthy in his corner. And this was exactly the kind of case where Charlie might have useful insights.

As he summoned her number and waited for it to connect, he admitted to himself that he might not have bothered Charlie if this had been a routine case. He was fired up about this because the person sitting in the FBI office freaking out about little Jimmy Higgins was Stephanie.

It had been a couple of years since they’d first met, and he’d been attracted from the beginning. But there hadn’t been any opportunity to make something of it. Besides, he’d always felt awkward about the idea of mixing business and pleasure. His wasn’t a line of work where your first encounters generally provoked happy memories. Cops were there for the bad things in life, and that wasn’t likely to get a relationship off on the right foot. The power balance was all wrong, for starters. He wanted a relationship based on equality, not on him as hero, her as vulnerable damsel in distress.

Then she’d called him out of the blue. Admittedly for professional reasons. But she could have picked up the phone and spoken to her local CID. That she’d considered him a sympathetic figure definitely buffed his ego. And once the matter had been sorted out, he’d dropped by and made it delicately clear that he’d like to see her when she felt up to having a date. Because there was no getting away from the way she made him feel. In spite of his determination to stay away from women with complicated lives, he couldn’t resist Stephanie.

They’d taken it easy to begin with. They’d gone to lunch, seen a movie, had dinner three times and taken Jimmy to the Tower of London. They’d talked on the phone late at night, they’d used the message channels on Facebook and Twitter. And it had been a couple of months before they slept together, which these days felt unusual. It hadn’t been lack of desire, at least not on Nick’s part. It was hard for him to articulate precisely what it was, but he thought it had something to do with the fact that this felt serious. And something to do with the kid. You didn’t take chances when a kid was part of the picture.

Charlie answered her phone on the second ring. ‘Hi, Nick. What a nice surprise. How’s tricks?’

‘Been better, Charlie. What about you? Is this a good time?’

‘Sure. Maria’s doing something sensational in the kitchen so I’ve got nothing to occupy me but this glass of wine. What’s bothering you?’

‘I told you about Stephanie, right?’

‘When we had breakfast in that lovely little café in Paddington, yes. Has something gone wrong?’

Even across the distance from Manchester to London there was no mistaking the concern in Charlie’s voice. ‘Yes, but not between me and her,’ he said. ‘It’s much worse than that, Charlie. And I need your help.’

‘Anything I can do. You know that.’

‘The boy’s been kidnapped. Jimmy, Scarlett Higgins’ son. Stephanie took him on holiday to the US and he was snatched when they were changing planes.’

Charlie drew her breath in sharply. ‘Over there? He was kidnapped over there?’

‘Yes. The FBI are talking to Stephanie. Taking a history. They’ve drafted me in to help develop leads. But there’s bugger all to grab on to, Charlie.’

‘Which of course is why you’re talking to me,’ she said wryly. ‘And that’s as it should be, Nick. Why don’t you take me through everything you know about the abduction?’

So he did, wondering not for the first time what it was about Charlie that made the act of confiding in her a relief in itself. Nick concentrated on recalling everything Vivian McKuras had said and relaying it to Charlie without putting his own spin on it. When he’d finished, she grunted. ‘Interesting.’

‘Well, yeah. I knew that already, Charlie,’ Nick grumbled.

‘I’m just buying time, Nick. Just buying time.’

‘Do you want to call me back when you’ve had time to think it through?’

‘One or two thoughts for now. First and foremost, Jimmy knew the person he walked away with. The kidnapper didn’t have time to talk Jimmy into leaving with him. Even with figures of authority like cops, kids of that age will show reluctance or opposition. The overwhelming probability is that it would have been somebody he already knew.’