Best of British Crime 3 E-Book Bundle. Paul Finch

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Superintendent Piper was now regarding him from the other side of the room. Locks of hair, which she tended to wear up during the day, had come loose and hung to either shoulder, making her look rather fetching. But she was pale in the cheek and her steel-blue eyes blazed.

      ‘Do you know we’ve been waiting nearly two hours?’ she said.

      ‘Er … no, I didn’t.’

      ‘What do you think you’re playing at, Heck?’ she demanded. Heck was six foot, but Superintendent Piper wasn’t a great deal shorter than him; even if she had been, her force of personality was colossal. She stalked the room in anger. ‘You think I want to spend my Sunday mornings sifting through your chaotic trash?’

      ‘My phone’s not working.’

      ‘Well get one that does!’

      ‘I will … if I can include it on my expenses.’

      She arched an eyebrow. ‘You what?’

      ‘I’ve worn it out on this job, so if I have to buy another one …’

      ‘Are you deliberately winding me up?’

      ‘No, it’s just that …’

      ‘Because I’m not in the mood.’

      ‘I can see that.’

      She jabbed a finger at him. ‘And don’t smart-mouth me either.’

      ‘An apology might be in order, Heck,’ Palliser said. ‘You have kept us waiting.’

      ‘I know, sorry. But I wasn’t expecting you.’

      ‘That’s plainly obvious,’ Superintendent Piper replied, gesturing at the piles of disorderly documentation stacked between the computer terminals, at the unwashed coffee mugs, at the overflowing in-trays. ‘Look at this place; it’s like a bomb site. And while we’re on the subject …’ She crossed the room and snatched the notice from the outside of the door. ‘What’s this supposed to be?’

      Heck gave a wry smile. ‘Wouldn’t be a normal day without one of these appearing.’

      ‘You been rubbing people up the wrong way?’

      ‘I don’t get close enough to rub anyone up any way,’ he said. ‘Not anymore. I’m pretty sure it was one of this nick’s detectives who tipped off Bobby Ballamara that his daughter’s disappearance is being treated as part of a series. Don’t see how else he could have found out. He’s made my life hell ever since.’

      ‘Have you got proof of that?’ Palliser asked, looking shocked.

      ‘Course I haven’t.’

      ‘And in the meantime, what does this mean?’ Superintendent Piper asked, still brandishing the notice.

      Heck shrugged. ‘You know what Division are like – they don’t think anyone works as hard as they do. According to them, I’m on a very cushy number here.’

      ‘Unfortunately, they’re not the only ones who think that.’ There was a brief silence. Superintendent Piper suddenly looked awkward, uncomfortable.

      ‘Oh,’ Heck replied. ‘So that’s how it is?’

      ‘You must’ve known something like this was coming,’ Palliser said.

      ‘Rumblings at the Yard, are there?’

      ‘Your comparative-case-analysis didn’t have the desired effect,’ Palliser explained.

      Heck slumped into a chair, making no effort to disguise his irritation. ‘Three bloody weeks I worked on that.’

      ‘The effort was clearly there,’ Superintendent Piper said, sitting opposite. ‘But that’s all. Considering the time put in, the evidence is too thin. How long have you been on this case now?’

      ‘Two years, four months.’

      ‘And ground gained – zero.’

      ‘I need more men,’ he protested.

      ‘Well you’ve got one less from today.’

      Heck sat up slowly. ‘How can I have one less than none?’

      ‘The one less is you, Heck,’ Palliser said.

      Heck glanced from one to the other, finally fixing on Superintendent Piper. ‘You’re not shutting it down?’

      ‘It’s not my choice.’

      ‘Don’t tell me,’ he said. ‘Laycock. What a surprise.’

      ‘It’s a nothing case,’ she retorted. ‘You’ve admitted that yourself.’

      ‘In moments of frustration I may have admitted that.’

      ‘There seems to be more frustration than anything else.’

      He stood up. ‘Look, what’s the problem? I’m working every hour God sends, but most of it’s for free. I haven’t made any unreasonable requests for overtime.’

      ‘The problem is you could be better used elsewhere,’ she said. ‘Crime doesn’t stop just because you’re involved in something you find more interesting.’

      ‘“Interesting”?’ Heck could hardly believe what she’d just said. ‘We’ve got thirty-eight missing women here! Surely it’s more than “interesting”?’

      Superintendent Piper responded by rifling through a few files and print-outs, of which there were plenty strewn across the desk. ‘Where’s the evidence they’re connected? Where’s the pattern? Some of them are four hundred miles apart, for God’s sake! Sorry … I’ve trusted you on this for nearly two years, but that’s it. The trust’s run out.’

      ‘Look, ma’am …’

      ‘Don’t give me the usual blarney, Heck. You’re one of the best detectives I’ve got, but these hunches of yours are proving an expensive luxury. And look at the bloody state of you! For God’s sake, tidy yourself up!’

      ‘Don’t you even want to know why I’m in this state?’ he wondered.

      ‘No.’

      ‘I’ve been on an all-night surveillance operation. And guess what, I had to do it all myself because there’s no one else to help.’

      Voices could now be heard out in the corridor; one of them had a distinct South London twang, distinguishing it as that of DCI Slackworth, who ran the CID office here at Deptford Green.

      ‘I’ve got one new lead in particular, which is looking really good,’ Heck added. ‘But I haven’t even had a chance to start following it yet.’

      ‘Put it all on paper,’ Superintendent Piper said, half-listening to the voice outside and looking again at the notice

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