Chapter 48
‘Are you sure that pushing this Rhimes conspiracy theory is a good idea? Because if you ask me—’
‘It’s not a conspiracy theory and I wasn’t exactly asking you, Rob,’ said Henley.
It should have been a normal Saturday afternoon, preparing for a children’s Halloween party, but she’d woken up to a message from Chris Snyder.
She’d thought the mundane activity of sorting out the laundry would settle her nerves, but she’d become more anxious with each passing minute.
She’d picked up her phone twice to cancel her meeting with Chris but that would have meant breaking her promise to Eloise.
Henley had never been a woman known for breaking her word and she had no intention of starting now.
‘Because if you ask me,’ Rob continued as he slammed the dishwasher door shut. ‘It’s not. If what you told me is right, if what Linh has told you is right, you’re placing yourself in danger.’
‘I’ve been placing myself in danger for over ten years. The first time I went out on independent patrol I was attacked by a seventy-eight-year-old woman in Sainsbury’s who’d stolen six bottles of Johnnie Walker.’
‘You being hit with an umbrella by Supergran is not the same thing as you chasing after people who may have killed not just your boss, Anj, but your friend. I’ve lost count of the times I’ve watched you asleep in bed and told myself it’s a miracle you’re still here, especially after—’
‘Don’t say his name. I don’t need to be reminded of what I’ve been through, what I’ve endured. I see my scars every single day.’
Rob leaned his head back and exhaled loudly as the sound of Emma screeching in the living room with her cousins and Ramouter’s son, Ethan, filtered through the house.
‘I see your scars too,’ he said.
Henley looked down at her hands and saw that she’d been twisting the tea towel in her hands so tightly that it resembled a line of rope.
‘I can’t not do this,’ she said. ‘I spent a lot of time trying not to feel anything when I got the call that Rhimes was gone. If I didn’t feel it, then I could convince myself that it hadn’t happened but then that switched to anger.
As weird as this sounds, I was angrier about Rhimes than I was with my mum. ’
Henley paused as she felt her eyes burn with tears. She’d resisted everyone’s – Rob, her brother, dad and her therapist – efforts to drag her out of the dark abyss of grief. The only person who’d found a way to reach her was Pellacia.
‘Mum was sick. I didn’t want to admit that, but I knew she was going to die but Rhimes wasn’t sick,’ Henley said.
‘There’s nothing I can say that will change your mind is there?’ asked Rob as he pulled Henley towards him. She could feel the muscles in his chest flex and contract as he slowed his breathing. An attempt to lower the temperature of his frustrations.
‘I love you’ he said. ‘And I hate that I can’t protect you.’
‘Rob. I don’t—’
‘You may not need me to protect you but that’s how I feel and I also know that I’ll lose you if I try to control you. So, all I can do is remind you that I love you and will never stop worrying about you.’
Henley squeezed her eyes shut but the photograph of Fox-Carnell watching her and Emma burned brighter in her mind. She pulled away from Rob as her phone beeped with a message.
She picked up her phone. ‘It’s Chris. He’s running ten minutes late.’
‘I really do wish you would reconsider,’ Rob said. He cocked his head in the direction of the living room.
‘They’re too quiet,’ Henley said, reading Rob’s thoughts.
‘Which means they’ve broken something or are plotting something. Let me see what they’re up to but, Anj,’ said Rob, taking hold of Henley’s hand and intertwining her fingers with his. ‘I know I’ve asked you to step away from the job before.’
Henley raised her eyebrows.
‘All right, I’ve been an arse about it,’ said Rob. ‘But this is different. I don’t care what Chris tells you, I’m asking – no – I’m telling you to step away.’
‘One day I would like you to just call me and ask me how I’m doing and if I fancy a drink,’ said Chris, handing a coffee cup to Henley.
‘We are out for a drink,’ Henley replied, welcoming the warmth of the cup in her palms.
‘When you first called me, I thought it was a wind up,’ Chris said as they walked towards Hilly Fields. ‘It’s a good thing you’re wearing your trainers because I’m thinking you should run.’
Henley stopped and looked up at Chris, searching his face for any traces of the humour that had been present a few moments earlier but there was nothing. His lips were so pressed together, they’d nearly disappeared and a frown line had deepened between his eyebrows.
‘Chris, I just need some answers,’ Henley pleaded.
‘The account number isn’t one that technically belongs to the NCA,’ Chris said, dropping the volume of his voice as they continued to walk.
‘It’s kind of a floating bank account that’s used by the NCA to pay their informants and I don’t mean the informants grassing up the local drug dealer.
’ He paused. ‘He wasn’t a grass, Henley, and he wasn’t involved in things that would land him in prison.
The account that transferred money to him is also used to protect whistleblowers.
It could be that Rhimes discovered something, like corruption, and the NCA wanted more. ’
Coffee swirled and escaped from the mouth of her cup and ran down Henley’s hand. She looked down, for a brief moment finding the trembling of her fingers hypnotic.
‘Are you ok?’ Chris asked, concern etched on his face.
‘No, not really,’ Henley replied, stepping away and dropping her cup into a bin. ‘How can I be when you’re standing here telling me that someone wanted Rhimes out of the way to stop him from revealing, what exactly?’
‘That I do not know. And you’ve got to realise, I’m not necessarily talking about corruption in the Met – not that there isn’t any. The NCA were the ones paying Rhimes, but just because we’re London based …’
‘Doesn’t mean he was necessarily investigating the Met,’ said Henley. ‘There are forty-three police forces in the UK.’
‘And I don’t know which one.’
‘Informants have handlers,’ Henley said assuredly. ‘They’re not out there on their own. Rhimes would have had to report to someone.’
‘Yeah, he would have.’
Henley knew this was the moment when she should walk away and return back to her family.
‘This is the last thing I’m going to ask you to do for me,’ she said.
Chris groaned as he rubbed the back of his neck. ‘Shit,’ he said. ‘You have no idea the hornets’ nest you’re kicking.’
‘I know I don’t. All I’m asking you to do is to find his handler. A name. That’s all I want.’
‘Fine,’ he said. ‘I’ll let you know when I have a name.’
Henley tried to remember the last thing Rhimes had said to her. It had been something innocuous about booking flights to see his brother in Florida. Rhimes was a man who had plans and many reasons to live and that was why she couldn’t walk away and leave his secrets buried with him.
‘What are you thinking?’ Chris asked.
‘That I should have paid closer attention to the things that weren’t being said. I worked with Rhimes every day for years and I couldn’t see that there was something deeper going on with him.’
‘There is another way of looking at this,’ said Chris. ‘They say that people who whistleblow have a stronger sense of integrity. It’s not about them. Rhimes took his ability to put others before himself to another level.’
‘I can’t believe I’m learning more about the sort of man Rhimes was in death than I ever did in life.’
‘That ain’t a bad thing, Anj. In a strange way, Rhimes is teaching you something important.’
‘And what’s that?’ Henley asked.
‘To never walk away and that this job isn’t just about clearance rates,’ said Chris. ‘It’s about protecting those who are unseen.’