This charming man, p.23
This Charming Man, page 23
Sturgess grunted. ‘Pretty much. So, I found out Butler was a sleazy creep, but nothing about the …’ He waved his hand in the direction of his own mouth. ‘Either Keith is a brilliant actor or he had no idea what I was asking about when I mentioned cosmetic changes. The aforementioned overworked detective sergeant spent her day chasing up every cosmetic surgeon and dentist within fifty miles of Manchester, and none of them knew a Phillip Butler. So we’re still clueless on that score.’
Hannah nodded at the crowd behind him. ‘Speaking of the cosmetic-surgery side of things … Most of this lot are obviously just wearing fancy dress for a laugh, but the group in the far corner are what I guess you could call the hardcore element.’
‘Couple of leather coats, long hair. Four guys, two women,’ said Sturgess without looking round.
Hannah wagged a finger in his direction. ‘Very impressive.’
Sturgess shrugged. ‘Observation is a big part of the job. That, and mountains of paperwork.’
‘Well, you’ve got great eyes,’ said Hannah, and then wished she could take it back. ‘We tracked down Victor, the group leader – that’s him in the leather coat, with the long black hair. We ended up talking to his father.’
‘Really?’ said Sturgess. ‘Let me guess, Nosferatu over there still lives at home with Mummy and Daddy?’
Hannah hesitated. ‘Just Daddy, actually. Look, the guy does live a pretty weird lifestyle, no question, but his dad is a former police officer. He explained it all to us.’
‘His dad is former police? I might know him.’
Hannah shook her head. ‘I doubt it. He was in Glasgow. I think they moved here for a clean break. Sounds like they had a bit of trouble up there. The dad, Gregory, was very nice. Devoted to the son. He also has no idea who Phillip Butler is.’
‘So he says.’
‘Well, OK,’ said Hannah. ‘I know we can’t take that at face value, but …’ She slipped out of her bag the folder Gregory had given her and placed it on the table.
‘What’s this?’
‘Gregory’s been keeping a close eye on Victor – I mean, a really close eye. In here is a list of Victor’s known associates and, more importantly, a list of some people who maybe take the thing too far, or who he just thought were a bit off.’
‘Interesting,’ said Sturgess.
He went to take the folder but Hannah kept her hand on top of it.
‘Just … Look, he gave us this. He wants to help and, more importantly, he wants to protect his son from any …’
Sturgess nodded. ‘All I’m interested in is finding out what’s going on here. If it doesn’t involve Victor, or his dad, I promise I’ll do everything possible to leave them out of it.’
‘OK,’ said Hannah, removing her hand from the folder.
Sturgess picked up the file and flicked through it quickly. ‘Holy crap, you weren’t kidding. This is some thorough work.’
‘Gregory Tombs is a security consultant these days.’
‘Judging by this,’ said Sturgess, scanning the last few pages, ‘I bet he doesn’t come cheap. So, what else?’
‘Excuse me,’ said Hannah, with a smile. ‘I thought this was an exchange of information. The emphasis being on “exchange”.’
Sturgess held up his hands. ‘Sorry, I’m used to being the one asking the questions, even if I don’t get answers. Let’s see – Butler was a creep, still no idea where he got the dental work done, and … Oh.’ Sturgess’s face dropped. ‘To put it in newspaper terms for you, I think I’ve rather buried the lead here.’ He looked around and lowered his voice. ‘We identified the source of the blood in Phillip Butler’s stomach …’
Hannah listened in silence as Sturgess gave her the details of how the body of Andre Alashev was found. When he was done, she took a sip of her drink.
‘That’s …’
‘Yes,’ said Sturgess. ‘It is. What’s worse, I can’t get anyone on the GMP side of things to take it seriously. As far as my bosses are concerned, it’s a murder–suicide that needs to be signed off and consigned to history. It’s got the two biggest things they don’t like – the weird element and the potential to annoy powerful people.’
‘Who?’ asked Hannah.
‘Well, I’m not sure it relates to the case at all, but Phillip Butler’s employers, Fuzzy Britches, went to great lengths to get his phone back.’
‘Oh?’
‘Yeah. It disappeared from evidence some time between last night and about three o’clock this afternoon.’
‘Isn’t that—’ started Hannah.
‘What?’ said Sturgess. ‘Highly illegal? Incredibly suspicious? Hopefully, quite hard to organize? Yes – all of the above. We hadn’t even managed to get into it, although we were about to. It certainly seems like they’re hiding something, and I doubt it’s just their latest app for sharing cat videos. Maybe it’s just good old-fashioned corporate paranoia, but it’s pissed me off. Something I made clear to Ms Baladin, for all the good it’ll do.’
‘Look at you,’ said Hannah, ‘making enemies amongst the rich and famous!’
Sturgess gave a little smirk. ‘To be honest, it probably wasn’t my smartest idea, but I hate people with money buying their own form of justice.’
Hannah felt herself smiling at him. ‘You might be the only honest cop left in this cockamamie town.’
‘Cockamamie? Now there’s a word you don’t hear much.’
‘I’m bringing it back – long overdue.’
‘Agreed.’
‘Actually, speaking of cops in this town,’ said Hannah, wiping the smile off her face. ‘There was an attack last night in one of the Skyline Central buildings.’
‘What?’
‘Yes. A lady called Georgina Grant awoke in the middle of the night to find a guy standing over her, with the teeth and all of that. She screamed and he ran off.’
‘Why didn’t she call the police?’
‘She did,’ said Hannah. ‘A couple of officers came round, reckoned it wouldn’t have been possible for a man to have got in. Dismissed the whole thing as a nightmare.’
Sturgess looked up at the ceiling and spoke through gritted teeth. ‘You’re kidding me!’
‘I’m afraid not.’
‘I left specific instructions with Control to let me know if anything unusual came through. I’d better go see this woman now.’
Hannah winced. ‘Sorry, I’m afraid you can’t. Her sister came to pick her up and take her back home to Bristol just as we were leaving. She was pretty shaken up and, to be honest, she was angry the police didn’t believe her.’
‘I can imagine. This whole thing feels like it’s building to something, and I have a very bad feeling about what that is.’
On cue, something smashed behind them. They looked over to see two supposedly grown men in fancy dress having a fight. Neither man gave the impression of having much experience in the field of combat, given the tell-tale awkward hugging being employed as the primary mode of attack.
The crowd parted like the Red Sea as Ronnie – all five foot five of her – barrelled through. She separated the men by grabbing them both by the hair and yanking them in opposite directions. Her actions elicited a mix of howling, swearing and finger-pointing, none of which had any effect on her. She proceeded to march the two wannabe wrestlers towards the fire exit, which she kicked open before tossing them into the night.
‘And don’t come back, dipshits.’
As she turned round, she was greeted with enthusiastic applause. She gave an embarrassed wave.
‘Sorry about that, folks.’
As Ronnie wiped her hands on her jeans, trying to remove the residue of whatever the men had used to slick down their hair, she glanced in the direction of Hannah’s booth and her face fell. She pointed at Sturgess.
‘Oh God, would this be that policeman friend of yours?’
Sturgess held up his phone. ‘Sorry, what was that? I’ve been staring intently at my phone for the last sixty seconds so I didn’t see or hear anything.’
Ronnie smiled. ‘You two have just earned yourself a randomly assigned free bottle of wine.’
‘Are you trying to bribe a police officer?’ asked Sturgess.
‘I’m sorry. I was talking to the couple behind you.’
‘Glad to hear it. I—’ Sturgess was interrupted by his phone ringing as Ronnie moved off. ‘Ah crap.’ He glanced at Hannah. ‘It’s the chief inspector. I have to …’
Hannah nodded. ‘Of course.’
Sturgess answered the call. ‘Yes, guv.’ He winced. ‘Well, that’s not … I appreciate that, ma’am, but they did interfere with … No, no evidence of that as such, but …’ He pulled the phone away from his ear slightly as both the volume and the pitch of the voice on the other end of the line were raised significantly.
Hannah couldn’t make out any words, but the harsh tone was clear enough.
‘Yes, I’ll be right there.’ Sturgess hung up and puffed out his cheeks.
‘That seemed to go well,’ said Hannah.
‘On the upside,’ said Sturgess, ‘I wasn’t very popular with her before now. I’m afraid I have to go. She wants to shout at me in person for a bit.’
‘You’re rather making a habit of this storming-out thing.’
‘Oh God,’ said Sturgess. ‘I really am, aren’t I?’
Hannah smiled. ‘No problem.’
As Sturgess got up to leave, Ronnie passed by in the opposite direction.
‘Can I ask,’ he said, ‘do you get many fights like that?’
‘Nah,’ said Ronnie. ‘That was nothing. This crowd is normally good as gold. It’s just this heat – turns people into animals. You’ve no idea.’
CHAPTER 35
Hannah pulled Banecroft’s Jag into the garage and turned off the ignition.
Tired didn’t cover it. She was so far beyond tired. She’d been tired a few hours ago, then she’d met DI Sturgess and subsequently joined Reggie as he interviewed-slash-chatted with the vampire crowd. She hadn’t felt like it, but she wasn’t the kind of person who could leave somebody else working and just go home.
In fact, she’d dropped Reggie home and then remembered, with a horrible sinking feeling, that she’d only been loaned Banecroft’s beloved car on the strict understanding that she would return it that evening. It was now midnight. The idea of parking it somewhere and driving it back the following morning was briefly considered and dismissed. Banecroft was a grandmaster at noticing the exact thing you hoped he wouldn’t. She’d undoubtedly receive a phone call in the middle of the night demanding its return. Or worse, the true nightmare – it would be stolen.
In that situation, resigning from her position at The Stranger Times wouldn’t be enough. Fleeing the country wouldn’t help either. Hell, even death quite probably would not prevent Banecroft from venting his rage at her. The man lived in a near-perpetual state of fury, but she’d come to realize that, despite all the evidence, there were always further levels he could reach. She imagined the car going missing would result in peak Banecroft. Nobody needed that in their life – or their afterlife. So, she’d brought the car back.
Sitting in the garage, listening to the cooling engine tick, she briefly considered falling asleep in the front seat. After all, the car was technically back where it belonged, and, despite reeking of cigarette smoke, it was certainly comfortable. Her head dipped forward and she caught herself. No, come hell or high water, she was going home. She needed a change of clothes and a shower. She climbed out of the front seat, locked and doubled-checked the car doors and closed up the garage.
The city never really gets dark. True dark. Country dark. There’s always light coming from somewhere – streetlights, nearby buildings, or just bouncing off the clouds. Hannah looked up. There were no clouds. Even here, despite the light pollution, she could see a sky littered with stars. She’d always enjoyed sitting quietly and gazing up into the night. The reminder that you were on a small speck of dirt at the edge of the galaxy, where massive astral bodies were mere twinkles in the distance, certainly had the effect of putting whatever problems you had into some much-needed perspective. The sun was millions of miles away from the Earth and still it managed to warm it – too much, if anything, given that the forecast was that the heatwave would continue until the middle of next week at least. In that context, relatively speaking, the walk back to her flat wasn’t that far. First things first, though – she had to drop Banecroft’s keys at the office.
Hannah walked around the side of the garage and stumbled backwards, narrowly stopping herself from letting out a shriek. She stood there feeling ridiculous. A day spent chasing monsters on nowhere near enough sleep had left her drained and jittery. That was why she’d almost screamed at the shocking appearance of a Portaloo in front of her.
It hadn’t been there when she’d left earlier that morning. Grace had clearly got it in and positioned it behind the garage to prevent passers-by from seeing what the paper had been reduced to. It made sense. Grace was a woman who was very concerned with appearances. No doubt if it were up to Banecroft, there’d be just a bucket in front of the main doors.
Hannah took a deep breath, shook her head and chuckled at her own jumpiness. She needed a good night’s sleep in the worst way.
‘Damn it.’
In fright, she’d dropped the bloody car keys. She played the light from her phone’s torch across the ground to reclaim them. Once she had them in her hand again, she straightened up, took one step forward and yelped.
The figure was standing beside the Portaloo. A man in a green anorak. ‘Man’ might not have been the right word. A passing car’s headlights reflected off something behind her and cast enough light to pick out his distinctive teeth.
Hannah was drawing in her breath to give her shocked yelp a much-needed upgrade to a full-throated scream of terror, but she stopped as the figure collapsed onto its knees.
‘Please,’ said a sibilant voice. ‘You have to help me. Sanctuary. Sanctuary.’
Hannah stood in reception and shouted, ‘Banecroft!’
Stella appeared in the doorway that led up to the steeple, rubbing her eyes. ‘What is it?’
‘Sorry,’ said Hannah. ‘There’s a …’
The door to Banecroft’s office flew open and the man himself stomped into the centre of the bullpen. Hannah tried hard to focus on his eyes as he was wearing only a pair of underpants and, surprisingly, a T-shirt that read ‘Frankie Say Relax’.
‘What in the hell is it?’ he boomed. ‘It’s …’ He looked around. ‘What happened to the clock we used to have on the wall?’
Stella snorted. ‘You hit it with a stapler last week – when you were making a point about the Oxford comma.’
Banecroft glared at her. ‘It’s an important grammatical issue.’
‘Yeah, but most people manage to make that kind of point in a less violent manner.’
‘You remembered it, though,’ he said, displaying what in some cultures might be considered a smile.
Stella shrugged. ‘I remember you hitting the clock. It was our longest-serving employee.’
‘Will the both of you shut up,’ snapped Hannah. ‘This is important.’
‘It’d better be,’ said Banecroft. His eyes narrowed. ‘This isn’t one of those booty calls, is it?’
Stella made a gagging noise. ‘Sorry. I just threw up a bit in my mouth.’
Hannah pointed back at the stairs. ‘There is a vampire downstairs, asking for sanctuary.’
While her words did make Hannah feel slightly ridiculous, her statement did have the rare effect of making both Banecroft and Stella shut up – for a moment, at least.
Banecroft tilted his head. ‘You told me they didn’t exist?’
‘That’s what I was told. That’s what Cogs told us. That’s what that awful Dr Carter woman told us. That’s even what Mrs Harnforth told us.’
‘And now you’re saying there’s one downstairs?’
‘Yes.’
‘Have you been drinking again?’
‘No.’
‘That’s the second most common answer given by people with a drink problem,’ said Banecroft.
‘Have you been drinking?’
‘That’s none of your business.’
‘And now we know what the most common answer is,’ quipped Stella, earning her a caustic look from Banecroft.
‘For God’s sake,’ said Hannah, exasperated. ‘Will you stop flapping your gums and come down and meet him?’
‘Hang on,’ said Banecroft as he marched back into his office.
A moment later he returned with his blunderbuss. He held out the weapon. ‘For our protection.’
‘Could you not have found some trousers to protect us from seeing this much of you?’ asked Hannah.
‘Oh, don’t be such a prude. The human body is a beautiful thing.’
‘Yeah,’ said Stella, ‘but yours looks like it got pulled out of the sea at low tide.’
Banecroft stopped and studied her warily. ‘Have you been watching true-crime documentaries again?’
Stella shrugged. ‘I sleep in a steeple and the wifi is rubbish. All I’ve got is Freeview.’
‘Can we—’ started Hannah.
‘All right,’ said Banecroft. ‘I’m coming.’ He checked his blunderbuss. ‘Stella, stay here.’
‘No, thanks.’
‘That’s an order. There might be danger—’ Banecroft felt the hairs all over his body stand on end.
Stella’s right hand was glowing blue. Her eyes narrowed and, when she spoke, it was still her voice, but different. As if it were coming from several places at once. ‘I am the danger.’
Banecroft and Hannah exchanged a look.
Hannah spoke in a soft voice. ‘When did you learn to do that?’
The glow disappeared and Stella shrugged. ‘Like I said, I sleep in a steeple and the wifi is rubbish.’
‘We do need to get the wifi sorted.’
‘Yes,’ said Banecroft, hoisting the blunderbuss over his shoulder. ‘We shall engage some local tradespeople to come in and do the work for us. When has that ever gone badly?’
