No Time to Die_a thrilling CSI mystery Read online

  Tears ran unobstructed down her red cheeks as she looked up at him. ‘I didn’t know then that Jilly had died. I thought we’d simply go on being good friends, and I didn’t want that anymore, Eddie. I couldn’t face watching you drink yourself inside out every day as you hoped and prayed to get back with her. I couldn’t bear that. I would rather be alone, and so I decided to walk away without looking back. And when Taylor told me they were forming MCU…I joined up.’

  Eddie sighed. He wanted a cigarette. He also wanted to fuck off and leave her here. ‘Well, your punishment was thorough, I’ll give you that.’

  ‘I’m sorry.’

  But most of all, he wanted to reach across the table and stroke her hair; he wanted to hold her, and he wanted to reassure her. He wanted Ros. ‘Don’t be,’ he whispered. ‘It’s okay.’

  ‘It was lousy timing. I couldn’t have you, we couldn’t be together, and then when I found out that we could be together, it was already too late.’ She blinked, as if surprised by how things turned out. ‘There was Brian.’

  That was the real punishment, he thought. ‘But you eventually must have found out that Jilly was dead. And you knew where I worked. What, eight miles away from MCU? Why didn’t you–’

  ‘I was a mess, Eddie. My world was upside down. I had a new job, I had lied to my best friend, I wasn’t around for you when she died…and by then it was too late. And Brian was there.’

  ‘Good old Brian. Waterproof shoulders?’

  She half-laughed. ‘Yes, he had waterproof shoulders.’

  ‘But you’re unhappy with him.’

  ‘Why would you say that?’

  Eddie drank his coffee, watched her over the rim. ‘Because most people say they love their man, you said you like him, present tense; good old solid and reliable Brian.’

  ‘That’s not fair.’

  He shrugged. ‘You’re right; I’m sorry. It’s not fair. None of my business.’

  ‘Am I forgiven?’

  He smiled. ‘Nothing to forgive, Ros. You’ve done nothing wrong.’

  ‘Are you still leaving?’

  ‘I wish you’d told me. I mean, I wish you’d got in touch. I was mortified when I found out you’d died. I grieved, Ros. And I wanted to find you. I’m not one for visiting graves, even my own family, really. But I wanted to say goodbye to you, just once. I wanted to leave you some flowers and speak with you, just for ten minutes. For old time’s sake. But I couldn’t, no one knew where you were buried. So, I carried your death around with me the whole time like a wound. It would have been gracious of you–’

  ‘I know it would. I’m sorry about that too.’

  Eddie finished his coffee. ‘We should go.’

  ‘Are you staying?’

  Her eyes were full of hope, an eagerness that he secretly enjoyed. It would take him some time to come to terms with why she invited him to join her, but he thought he would eventually. And considering what he’d inadvertently put her through, he supposed her “punishment” was warranted, and it was quite mild. ‘On one condition.’

  She smiled. ‘Go on.’

  ‘You show me where the fucking coffee machine is.’

  — Two —

  Eddie took a right and walked straight into Benson. Benson dropped the Mars bar he’d just unwrapped, and both looked at it, saw little crumbs of chocolate scatter into the dirty carpet.

  ‘Twat,’ Benson said.

  Eddie squinted at him, then stood on the Mars bar and twisted his foot. ‘Now I’m a twat,’ he said, and walked away.

  ‘Stop.’

  Eddie stopped, and he wondered if now would be the right time to run. ‘What?’ He thought he’d done a reasonable job at masking the utter disbelief at bumping into him. Here, of all places. He’d shown no surprise because he didn’t want to see Benson grinning. In fact, he didn’t want to see Benson at all.

  ‘What are you doing here?’

  ‘At the moment,’ he said, ‘I appear to be talking to an arsehole.’

  ‘I expected you to be on dialysis by now. If not dead. Dead would be better.’

  Eddie turned and walked back, stood just in front of Benson – a little farther away than he normally would have on account of Benson’s larger gut. Other people were on the corridor, and they avoided the two, giving them a wide berth as though sensing these two were polar opposites, as though they feared fists flying any time soon.

  Benson continued, ‘I don’t think I’ve ever seen you sober before.’

  Eddie laughed. ‘Shouldn’t you be out there arresting the wrong man?’ It was a throwaway line; always good for annoying coppers with, but for Benson, it resonated like a church bell, and there was a slight twitch in his eye that made Eddie feel warm all over.

  ‘Since MCU have lowered their standards to accommodate those who frequent gutters,’ he smiled, ‘that means you, Collins, I think we should come to some arrangement.’

  ‘You ignore me, and I’ll pretend you never existed?’

  ‘Something like that, yeah.’

  ‘Should be easy enough,’ Eddie turned and walked away, ‘apart from the fucking smell.’

  ‘Oi!’

  Eddie stopped again. ‘Now what? I’ve got evidence to fabricate! Oh no, wait, that was you too, wasn’t it?’

  ‘A quid.’

  ‘You having a sponsored silence? I’ll give you a fiver, mate.’

  ‘For the Mars bar. A quid.’ He held out a hand.

  ‘You’re serious, aren’t you?’

  Benson stared, hand still held out.

  ‘Eddie?’

  Eddie turned and saw Ros at the office door. Despite their earlier chat, she didn’t look very happy, but Eddie was getting used to it by now.

  ‘Just give him a quid, and let’s get on.’

  Eddie fumbled in his pocket and could see Benson almost pissing himself with glee. ‘Fifty pence do?’

  ‘Eddie!’

  ‘Alright, alright.’ He flicked a coin at Benson and walked after Ros.

  ‘Eddie?’

  It was Jeffery. Eddie sighed and walked across the office, shoulders slumped, feet dragging. ‘Yes, boss.’

  ‘Where’ve you been?’

  ‘I’ve been to lots of places; want to narrow it down a bit?’

  Jeffrey took a breath and then folded his arms. It was his customary stance whenever he felt prickled by annoyance. ‘From the scene.’

  ‘I took Ros to McDonald’s.’

  ‘How chivalrous.’

  ‘I was desperate to show her their new McFlurry. They do a Toffee Crisp one now!’

  ‘Well, at least you’re honest.’

  ‘You knew about the Toffee Crisp one?’

  ‘I mean about going to McDonald’s. We have trackers in each van, just in case you weren’t aware.’

  ‘And you’ve been glued to some screen watching the fucking van all day? You should get a hobby. I heard Sudoku is good. Always been a Spider Solitaire kind o’ guy myself.’

  ‘Eddie…I understand that things must have difficult between you two. It’s fine.’

  Eddie blinked. ‘Really?’

  Jeffery nodded.

  ‘Thanks, Jeffery. We had personal things to sort out.’

  To his credit, Jeffrey smiled. ‘Okay, really, it’s fine.’

  Eddie walked away, feeling cautious. He kept looking back to make sure this wasn’t some wicked joke, that Jeffery wasn’t running after him. This was like going to sleep in a children’s playground and waking up with the adults. It was quite a shock, and it skewed Eddie’s perception of Jeffrey somewhat. And that was a good thing, except it made him a little nervous; he’d have to redraw the battle lines, maybe even cut him some slack.

  Eddie sat next to Ros. ‘So, where’s all the fancy gear, then?’

  ‘Gear?’

  ‘Yeah, the touch screens and the subdued neon lighting.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I thought working at MCU would be like stepping into CSI: Miami.’

  ‘Think ag
ain.’

  Eddie looked despondent. ‘This is just another bog-standard divisional CSI office, isn’t it? Pre-war computers with a permanent egg timer. Second-hand desks and chairs with dodgy castors.’

  Ros sighed, put down her pen.

  ‘I mean, look; you’re even using a pen. I thought it’d be–’

  ‘Well, it’s not. Get used to it.’

  ‘It’s like I never left,’ he whispered, and slid across to his own desk. ‘How do I log on?’

  ‘Eddie; this is still part of West Yorkshire Police. Nothing is different when you get back to the office.’

  ‘We still have the same non-functioning computer programs?’

  She nodded. ‘I have work to do, and I want to be home before midnight.’

  ‘Still have the same old guy in IT called Geoff, who smokes a pipe and wears tank tops, and thinks Space Invaders is at the cutting edge?’

  ‘Eddie!’

  ‘Sorry.’ He hit the computer’s power button. ‘It’s like déjà vu. What with you and Jeffery, and now that knob-head Benson. What’s he doing here, anyway?’

  Ros put her head in her hands.

  Eddie looked around, and Jeffery was standing there with his hands on his hips – another favourite pose, like Man at C&A was still in existence. He nodded to Ros. ‘You know Ros,’ he said, ‘she can sleep anywhere.’

  Ros looked up. ‘Jeffery.’

  ‘You okay?’

  ‘Yeah, yeah, I was just–’

  ‘Have you uploaded the photos yet? I’m keen to show them to Westmoreland and Benson.’

  ‘Why Benson?’ Eddie asked.

  ‘He’s doing the death warning later this evening.’

  ‘I’d like to be a fly on that wall,’ Ros said. ‘Just on with them now.’

  ‘I can imagine it won’t be pleasant.’

  ‘Have you told Jeffery about the note in his wallet?’

  ‘There was a folded scrap of paper that said “Black of Rose” or… No, “Black by Rose”.’

  ‘What’s it mean?’

  Eddie and Ros both shrugged.

  ‘Okay, Eddie, get your photos done too, Ros will show you our dedicated Dropbox feature, and then we have a briefing in half an hour, okay?’

  Eddie’s face screwed up. ‘A briefing? Do I have to?’

  ‘And tomorrow, I want you back at Tony Lambert’s scene.’

  ‘What? That scene’s a week old now. And anyway, I’m sure James–’

  ‘He did a thorough job.’

  ‘Then why do you want me to go back? To clean the powder off?’

  Jeffery pulled a chair across and sat between Ros and Eddie. ‘Keep this to yourself, but DCI Cooper is desperate for something else, something that James may have missed.’

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘A name.’

  ‘Basil Fawlty,’ Eddie said. And then, ‘I told him to swab the dead guy’s wrists for low copy. No joy?’

  ‘No joy.’

  ‘What about the woman’s throat? Was that swabbed?’

  Jeffery stared at him for a moment, and then his eyes drifted away.

  ‘I promise it wasn’t a trick question.’

  ‘I’d have to check Kirsty’s notes; she accompanied James.’

  ‘Meant to ask,’ Eddie said, ‘what happened to Kirsty?’

  ‘If you sent her,’ Ros said, ‘then it probably didn’t get done.’

  There was a tightness to her voice, so much so that Eddie turned and looked at her. She appeared fine, but something was awry.

  ‘If she didn’t, then it’s too late now,’ Jeffery said.

  ‘Why wouldn’t she–’

  ‘And no one is saying James did a bad job, quite the contrary, he’s very capable, but we need someone of experience to have a thorough look. Cooper’s desperate to find the murderer.’

  Eddie said, ‘If James is so capable, why not send him back?’

  ‘Don’t be a tool, Eddie,’ Ros said. ‘You know you’d never spot something second time around – especially if you’re going to be looking as hard as James would do.’

  ‘And it’ll do his confidence no good either,’ Jeffery whispered.

  ‘Okay. But who’s to say there’s anything more to find?’

  ‘Won’t know unless we try.’

  ‘But if you’re worried that James may have been too inexperienced to look close enough, why the hell didn’t you replace him on the day, or least get him some help?’

  ‘We did get him help.’ Jeffery stood and pushed the chair back. ‘Ros, you can go with him, keep an eye on him.’

  ‘She’s a bad influence, Jeffery.’

  ‘Oi.’ Ros kicked his chair.

  ‘Briefing. Thirty minutes.’ Jeffery was about to leave, when he paused, bent low towards Eddie and said, ‘Protect the lad’s pride; don’t mention your re-attendance to him.’

  — Three —

  DCI Lisa Westmoreland headed the briefing which, Eddie noted, took place in a room similar to those used for briefings in 24; all glass and chrome, polished wooden table and a posh phone in the centre. ‘Blake Crosby’s PM results show massive cranial damage consistent with being hit with a rock or by one being dropped from a tree.’ She lowered her spectacles and peered at Eddie. ‘That right, Eddie?’

  Eyes turned to face him, and he could feel himself going red, despite there being only ten people in the briefing. Eddie didn’t like being the centre of attention. He nodded. ‘That’s right.’ Keep it short, he told himself. And don’t smile; she’s less likely to ask you anything else.

  ‘Did you find anything on that rock?’

  Shit! ‘Hair, belonging, we think, to Blake. Bit of blood too, probably his.’

  ‘Super. What else did you find?’

  ‘It’s all in the report,’ he mumbled.

  ‘For the benefit of the briefing.’

  ‘Erm, contact blood. On the tree. Some more in the grass.’

  Benson shook his head at Eddie. Eddie swallowed.

  Jeffery cleared his throat. ‘May I, Lisa?’

  Thank fuck for that. Jeffery, I’ll never spit in your coffee again.

  Jeffery went on to give the account that Eddie had come up with, and to Eddie’s surprise, he did it very well; concise and with a little flair. His account went well, and there was a lot of nodding.

  He sat near the back in the briefing. Benson was right next to Lisa Westmoreland, looking around the room as though he owned it, which, in Westmoreland’s absence, he probably did. He was The Big Cheese, and he knew it. Not, as it transpired, quite as big a cheese as he used to be, having being demoted and shipped out of CID for negligence two years ago. Everyone knew about it, but it seemed no one dared bring it up in conversation. They were likely to get stamped on if they did.

  Eddie would keep that little nugget for future use.

  Benson kept looking at Eddie, and Eddie returned the stare, not blinking, not looking away. Whatever power Benson had in this place, Eddie was prepared to match it, despite feeling intimidated by his bulk (Mostly fat, thought Eddie), and eyes as cold as a dead man’s.

  Jeffery was sitting to one side, his shirt sleeves rolled up over skinny arms, and he continued to speak well, covering the gunshot wound that Blake Crosby had acquired, before moving along to the white fibres Eddie had found.

  And then there was Ros, sitting a few chairs forward of Eddie. When he wasn’t in a staring match with Benson, that’s where his eyes settled. There was still something bothering her. Yes, he knew a lot could happen to a person in two years, and he’d accounted for that; but there was something causing her to be on the defensive all the time. Maybe she was afraid of something. Eddie didn’t like the thought of her being afraid.

  ‘And then he was shot in the back. Standard 9 mm round recovered, so we have no idea, other than it was a handgun, what weapon she used. The firearm wasn’t recovered, by the way, so be careful if you do come across our suspect.’ Lisa Westmoreland moved along to the rest of the PM results, including the inter
nal and external penile swabs which indicated recent sexual intercourse. The swabs were winging their way to lab, as she poetically put it. ‘Results due in a day or so.’

  She nodded to Benson beside her. ‘Tom will be giving the death warning to the family… Have they rung in yet, Tom?’

  ‘Not as far as I’m aware. The Crosbys tend not to keep their members on a tight rein though; and anyway, the last thing they want is plod floating around asking them awkward questions.’

  There was a light titter in the room, and when Benson looked at Eddie, Eddie winked. Benson’s smile hit the carpet, and Eddie almost laughed.

  ‘And we’ll be locking Blake’s house down pending a POLSA search, but I want his computer soon as possible, Tom.’

  Benson only nodded.

  ‘Okay,’ Westmoreland continued, ‘Team One, get onto all county hospitals and check for recent female admittances with vaginal or anal injuries, also liaise with Topaz and see if they have anything outstanding they can share with us.’ She turned to Jeffery. ‘Anything from the car?’

  ‘Yes, we have fingerprints galore, tapings and we’ve taken GSR swabs from the glove box, beneath the seats, that sort of thing. Though most of the stuff we have are just controls for when you get our suspect.’

  Westmoreland nodded.

  ‘And we’ve had the marks checked out. Of course the Crosby clan and some of their men are all over it, but I’m assured there’s a few unidentified ones located around the front passenger side.’

  ‘Right, so our suspect isn’t known to us; she just got very hard to find.’

  Eddie breathed deeply. Nothing like stating the bleeding obvious, he thought. And this thought was closely followed by thoughts of coffee and a cigarette. He sighed, folded his arms.

  Westmoreland paused – More for effect, thought Eddie, than anything else.

  ‘Get to it.’ And then, ‘Oh, one last thing. We found a scrap of paper in his wallet. Handwritten on it were the words, “Black by Rose”. Anyone have any idea what “Black by Rose” refers to?’

  Lots of mumbling and shaking of heads ended the briefing, and Eddie lunged for the door.

  21