CBS Los Angeles got the next package. Two fingers. Like the first one, they had been cut, seemingly, from the same right hand.
There was chatter that it was all a big publicity stunt, that the station was in on it. If that really was what it was all about then it worked better than they could have hoped. Walker was soon the most talked about weatherman in America. It left LAPD on the pointed end of a very sharp stick that was rammed up their asses and they could do nothing about. They had nothing.
They knew the last known sighting of Walker was on the 210 heading east towards San Bernardino. The cameras couldn’t find him again after that and it was thought that maybe he’d turned off somewhere near Rancho Cucamonga. And that was all they had. No credit card use, no phone use. Nothing.
Eventually, Walker faded from first item up to second to fifth to the slot before the goofy ‘and finally’ piece. The conspiracy nuts kept it alive online for a while longer until they too got bored.
They never did find the rest of Walker Wright. Just three fingers and a man missing, presumed murdered.
*
‘Walker Wright? Seriously?’
O’Neill was as surprised and disbelieving as Salgado had been.
‘Yep. Garland has a severed finger. So, either he’s somehow bought it, same way he bought some of that other shit on his walls or . . .’
‘Or he’s killed him himself. Even if he didn’t kill him, it follows that he might have known who did.’
‘He killed him,’ Salgado said.
‘Your gut?’
Salgado shrugged. ‘My gut. Your brains. Everything we know about it and him. You doubt it?’
‘No.’ She turned away from him, still talking. ‘I used to watch his mother on TV. Walker Wright’s mother. A strong woman getting broken bit by bit. Made me feel bad that we couldn’t find her boy, couldn’t give her some kind of peace. Even though we never worked the case, I felt like we’d let her down. The LAPD, you know what I mean?’
‘Nature of what we do. We’re always letting people down.’
She shook her head. ‘Not true and you know it. But we did let that woman down. Till now. We’ve got a chance to do something about it.’
Salgado stood, arms crossed across his chest.
‘I’m listening and I’m all for finding what’s left of this guy, but how do you figure we’re going to find him when a squad couldn’t find him before?’
O’Neill tipped her head to the side and looked at him like she couldn’t believe he was quite so dumb.
‘Because we have an advantage they didn’t have. We know who killed him.’
CHAPTER 15
Narey fell through the door of their house on Belhaven Terrace, a bag of shopping in each hand, and closed the world out with a shove of her backside. The door shut out the tumult of rush hour traffic on Great Western Road and all the problems on the other side of it, if only temporarily. She enjoyed the silence while it lasted, closing her eyes over and enjoying a couple of moments of stand-up snoozing.
It lasted as long as it took for her daughter to realise she was home. An excited howl of ‘Mummy, mummy’ floated through from another room, swiftly followed by little feet running over wooden floors and rugs. Alanna swung round the corner at impressive speed and ploughed straight at her. Narey didn’t have time to put the shopping down and instead had to settle for hugging both the bags and her daughter as a mop of fair hair buried itself at her waist. It felt good. Better than anything had done all day.
‘Hey, sweet pea. How are you? I’ve missed you!’
Alanna didn’t answer, not in words, but buried her head deeper before she finally emerged, eyes shut and grinning maniacally.
‘Did you miss me?’
‘Yeah!’
Yeah was her favourite word. A bit ahead of cheese and just in front of Bing, her favourite TV show. None of those words made Narey particularly proud of her parenting skills but needs must. If the price to be paid for catching bad guys while raising a child was that her daughter ate a bit too much dairy and was fascinated by a whiny anthropomorphic bunny rabbit then she could live with that.
‘Yeah? Good. Because I really missed you.’
Other footsteps came into the room, skin slapping against the floorboards. ‘Hey, I missed you too so I’m hoping I get a hug as well.’
‘I think I’ve just about got energy for that. Come on, sweet pea, let’s go hug Daddy. Mummy could do with it.’
‘That bad?’ Tony Winter strode across the room and took the bags of shopping from her, stooping to kiss her full on the lips.
Narey allowed herself a sigh. ‘Not that bad. Long day. Confusing day. Nothing a hug and glass of wine won’t cure.’
‘Why confusing?’ Tony was barefoot in jeans and a T-shirt. He put an arm round his wife, her holding their daughter, and the three of them shuffled together towards the living room.
‘Well, I don’t want to talk about it. Obviously.’
‘Obviously.’
‘But . . .’
Winter looked at her over Alanna’s head, the surprise obvious on his face. He looked down at the child. ‘Come on, darling, let’s get your mum a glass of wine. I don’t think she’s feeling well. She actually wants to talk to us about her job. About one of her cases. Remember this when you’re older, the day mummy let us into her world.’
Narey mouthed a reply that no three-year-old should hear but accompanied it with a grin. ‘Let’s call it a one-off. And after this one is asleep.’
‘No sleep. No sleep.’
‘What? No, of course not. Come on, sweet pea. Mummy wants to hear all about your day. Did Daddy sing “Wind the Bobbin Up” for you?’
‘Yeah!’
‘Ah, never mind. We can always report him to social work.’
‘Oi! Daddy heard that.’
‘Daddy was supposed to. Daddy’s got a voice like an electric drill.’
*
Alanna finally fell asleep while still murmuring demands for one more story. Narey and Winter turned her light off and sighed in unison before taking their tiredness to the sofa with a couple of glasses of Rioja. He took the corner and let her stretch out on her back with her head on his lap, letting slip a sigh that was somewhere between relief and exhaustion.
It was a full minute before she spoke and even then it was no more than a warm-up.
‘Have you heard from Uncle Danny?’
Winter nodded, mid-mouthful. ‘I got a text from him this morning. He and Pauline are in Naples and going on to Rome tomorrow. He says he hates cruises and is bored out of his mind, but the old bugger is obviously loving it.’
‘That woman is the best thing that could have happened to him. If he’d stayed single much longer, he’d have turned feral.’
‘Turned? Danny was born feral. But you’re right, she’s just what he needed, even if he’d never have admitted it.’
She went quiet again. He waited.
‘So, there’s this case I’ve been working on.’
‘Thomas Harkness.’
‘I didn’t say that.’
‘You didn’t have to. There hasn’t been another case in months that has affected you like this one has. Your mouth twitches every time his name or Eloise Gray’s is mentioned. It’s Harkness, right?’