Forty-Seven
They had arranged to catch up over a quick lunch together in Claremont Park.
Having got there a little early, Miller sat down on his favourite bench – the one with ‘Your Nan Is A Slag’ carved into it – opened his can of Fanta and plucked his lunch from its paper bag.
He took a bite, then glanced up and let out a small cry of surprise to see Imran staring down at him.
‘Blimey, mate, what you creeping up on me like a bloody ninja for? I nearly choked on my Scotch egg.’
‘I trained myself to do it.’ Imran slid on to the bench next to Miller and fixed his hands into some kind of martial arts pose.
‘So I can take people by surprise. The ones who drop litter or don’t pick their dog mess up.
The toerags nicking stuff from my equipment shed, if I ever catch them in the act.
It’s not like your lot’s ever going to do anything, is it? ’
‘There are somewhat more pressing matters,’ Miller said. ‘Got a tricky kidnap case on the go. As a matter of fact, I’m waiting for my boss, so maybe you should toddle off. Why don’t you try to catch whoever’s scribbling those defamatory comments in the Gents’ toilet?’
‘I know that was you.’
‘Not all of it,’ Miller said.
‘So … a kidnap, eh?’ Imran raised his eyebrows. ‘It’s a good job you got that body in the lake business cleared up.’
Miller spotted Susan Akers on her way over and waved to her. ‘Right.’
‘All thanks to me, obviously.’
‘Actually, the two cases aren’t … unconnected.’
Before Imran could press him for details, Akers arrived. Imran scooted up so that she could sit between him and Miller. She thanked him and began unwrapping a sandwich.
Imran leaned close to her. ‘Dec was just telling me about this kidnap.’
‘Oh, was he?’ Akers said.
Miller’s mouth was full, so he began gesticulating wildly in an attempt to explain himself, bits of the Scotch egg in his hand flying everywhere.
‘He tells me pretty much everything,’ Imran said.
‘Interesting.’
‘Well, I’m an invaluable source, aren’t I? I helped crack the case when that lad went into the lake, remember?’ He seemed a little disappointed that she didn’t know who he was, even though they had not actually met when he’d visited the station. ‘I brought in the CCTV footage … ma’am.’
‘I see,’ Akers said. ‘Well, thank you so much for your assistance.’
‘Oh yeah, Detective Sergeant Miller tells me all sorts. At a price, obviously—’
‘What?’ Now Akers leaned forward to glare at Miller. ‘I can’t believe what I’m hearing. You’re passing intelligence to members of the public in exchange for … what? Cash? Favours of some sort?’
Miller had finally managed to swallow, and looked across at Akers.
‘The big mower!’ He swallowed again and took a slug of Fanta.
‘He’s going to let me drive the big mower.
’ He saw the confusion on the DCI’s face.
‘I know, but trust me, it’s worth it, and despite what he says I really don’t tell him very much. ’
‘You told him about the kidnap.’
‘I told him there was a kidnap, that’s all.’
‘And that it’s connected to the lad who died in the lake,’ Imran said.
‘I just remembered.’ Miller pointed. ‘I saw some scumbag emptying a big bag of disposable vapes into one of your lovely ornamental pots, over by the putting green. Oh, and his mate was frightening the swans.’
Imran jumped to his feet. ‘The little …’ He shook his head and grinned, having realised that Miller was messing with him. He’d got the message though, and ambled away, only stopping briefly to turn and present Susan Akers with a neat little salute.
Akers saluted back, then shook her head, as though altogether unclear as to why she’d done it. To cover her embarrassment, she bit into her sandwich before turning to Miller. ‘Cheshire settled in at the safe house?’
‘Right as ninepence,’ Miller said. ‘He’s a bit concerned about where his dog’s going to go for a wazz, but that aside—’
‘Jacqui Cutler took a call from Battersby,’ Akers said.
‘Oh.’ Miller reached for his phone to see if he’d missed a message.
‘Malky McDougall rang through to let us know. Battersby gave her a bollocking for talking to us and issued a few more threats. Told her to carry on putting the ransom together and to be ready for further instructions.’
‘For the handover?’
‘He didn’t say, but presumably. Chopra’s tech team recorded the call, so you can listen to it later on.
Battersby was using another disposable handset, so no chance of a trace, but the good news is we know Justin’s OK, because Jacqui heard his voice.
’ Akers stared out at the trees. ‘Heard him calling out for her.’
‘Can’t have been easy,’ Miller said.
‘No, because whatever we think of her, whatever you especially think of her, and I do understand why, by the way … she loves her child.’
Miller knew what that was like, or as near as dammit.
He remembered what Alex had said to him two nights before and how he’d felt when the hitman Dudley Driscoll had targeted Finn.
The things Miller had thought about doing, things he knew he would have done to the man if Driscoll had gone after Finn again; if, in the end, Torchy Molineux hadn’t saved Miller the trouble.
‘Actually, Cheshire had an idea about Battersby, about someone we could talk to. Which is exactly why I thought we should be doing what we’re doing. ’
‘Is that the sound of you blowing your own trumpet, Declan?’
‘I’m just saying, getting this sort of information, from someone who knows Battersby, wouldn’t be happening if Cheshire was in prison on remand.’
‘So, let’s hear it, then.’
Miller told Akers about the dancer Battersby had been seeing; the slim but viable possibility that she might be able to point them towards his whereabouts. ‘Got to be worth a try,’ he said. ‘I’m going to nip in and see her on my way home. Try to catch her before her show starts.’
‘The Winter Gardens is one of Ralph Massey’s places, isn’t it?’
Miller mock-shuddered. ‘Well, he promotes shows there, but I doubt I’ll run into him. He probably cobbled together whatever extravaganza of “tits and teeth” this Nikki’s part of, because he thinks he’s Andrew Lloyd Webber or some such, but I doubt he’s ever there.’
‘Let me know what she says.’
They stood and began to walk back through the park, to where Miller had left his moped and Akers her Nissan.
Miller dropped his empty can and paper bag into a litter bin, despite the temptation to stuff them into a bush to wind Imran up.
At the exit, he dug into his rucksack and produced a small package which he handed to Akers.
He said, ‘I saw this and thought of you.’
She looked at the box, then at him. ‘Batteries included?’
‘’Course. It might come in handy, you know, with the … flushes.’
Akers removed the handheld fan from the box and switched it on. She immediately hummed with pleasure. ‘Thanks, Declan. That is … very kind.’
‘I hope that was on the list,’ Miller said.
They carried on walking. ‘What list?’
‘The long list of my qualities which you presumably reeled off to the Detective Chief Super, or the Chief Super or the Chief Constable. Whoever else you needed to persuade that my idea about Barry Cheshire was worth going with. I’m guessing that as well as my kindness, you flagged up the fact that I was trustworthy and responsible. Quirky, yes perhaps, but brilliant.’
‘I wasn’t able to go quite that far,’ Akers said.
‘Shame,’ Miller said.
‘There’s a difference between a tissue of lies and an entire box of Kleenex.’