He’d called Louisa, but there was no answer on her mobile and he guessed she was out shopping. She was determined to live her life as usual until she was forced to stop, and she loved early-evening shopping – probably because it was what she’d always done when she was working. She wouldn’t hear her phone in a noisy supermarket.
He was also feeling guilty about Lucy. She had sent him a text to say she was going to stay at her friend Connie’s house that night, so he’d asked her to text through the address and a number for Connie’s mother. She had sent an emoji-laden message communicating more than adequately her disdain at his habit of checking up on her, but he wasn’t going to explain to her again that someone else could have taken her phone and sent that message; he’d told her often enough.
A quick call to Connie’s mother, however, confirmed that she had been invited to eat with them and have a sleepover. Apparently both girls were struggling with the same history project, and Connie’s father was a professor of history at Manchester University, so there was no arguing with that.
Tom suspected that Lucy was trying to avoid her mum, who had confirmed she was arriving that evening. He hadn’t yet managed to get hold of Kate himself, and he suspected she was ignoring his calls, knowing precisely why he was ringing.
He was about to get up from his desk when Becky knocked and walked in. Without a word, she plonked herself down in the chair opposite.
‘Ash knows who’s got Millie.’
Tom shot forward in his seat.
‘What? That’s great news. Why are you looking so glum?’
‘Because we have a problem.’
Tom listened as Becky recounted her conversation with Jo.
‘Did you believe her?’
‘Absolutely. She promised Ash she wouldn’t tell us, and yet she did. So I think she was telling the truth, even if she wasn’t quite telling us everything.’
‘Christ, what a mess. The important thing is that we keep tabs on Rajavi. Get hold of Sandie Burford as soon as you can and get her teams to set up surveillance on Ash. Impress upon her the need for confidentiality and ask her to report back only to you or me. We know her team can’t be implicated – they had no idea that Ash was in hospital, so they couldn’t have passed that on.’
‘Okay. You know what this means, though, don’t you?’
‘Sadly, yes. The intel has to have come from here – from one of ours. I’ll get authorisation to track Ash’s phone. And not a word outside these four walls.’
Becky nodded but looked defeated. ‘If Rajavi is right and there is someone on our team sharing what we know, who do you think it is?’
‘We don’t know it’s anyone at all, but we can’t manage this entirely on our own. Regardless of what Jo told you, there’s one person I’m certain it’s not, and that’s Keith.’
‘Yeah. I agree. He does everything so precisely by the book that he’d panic completely if he had to do anything even slightly dodgy.’
‘Okay, so let’s get him in here and see what he thinks about all of this.’
Within moments of Becky calling Keith, his feet were heard marching down the corridor and there was a smart rap on the door.
‘Come in, Keith,’ Tom said. ‘Take a seat,’
Tom talked him through everything Becky had said, and the look of horror on Keith’s face at the news that one of his team might be passing information could not have been faked.
‘Do you have any ideas?’ Becky asked.
‘No! It seems impossible. The only one we don’t know is Rob, and he’s been involved in the case from the start – even before we knew the full scale of things – but he seems sound to me.’
‘And he was so thrilled to have found that intel on Tessa O’Hanlon,’ Becky said.
‘He was indeed, although it seems she’s in the clear,’ Tom said. ‘I’m sure we have enough lines of inquiry to keep people occupied without telling them about Ash’s affair and the latest developments, but it does mean that one of you two is going to have to focus on Ash. We need to know who this woman is. Someone must know who he was having an affair with, even though he told Jo they had been careful. Becky, you need to pay a visit to the hospital where Ash worked. Try to find out if anyone had any suspicions about an affair. People think they’re clever, but someone always notices a look, a smile or an inappropriate touch.’
‘Okay, I’ll go as soon as we’ve finished.’
‘Keith, the whole team is looking for anyone linked to Ash or Jo who is also connected to the guy who was executed, Martin Hislop. We need to go through Ash’s phone records again with the knowledge we now have, but you’re going to have to do it yourself, I’m afraid. And we have to spread the net wider. I haven’t got time to explain why now, but when you’re looking for links, include these guys in your search as well.’
Tom pushed across a piece of paper with the names of Finn McGuinness’s murderer and the prison officer who had allowed the killer into McGuinness’s cell.
Keith looked at the list and raised his eyebrows, but said nothing.
‘And check out the prints found at Jo’s house – see who we can eliminate and what we’re left with,’ Tom said. ‘Rajavi claims that he had no idea how the burner phone got into his drawer, so the prints in his study might tell us something. I’ll leave you two to get on with things while I alert Philippa to what’s happening.’
Keith was making notes and was about to open his mouth when Tom’s phone rang.
It was a number Tom didn’t recognise, and he assumed it would be Jack. ‘Tom Douglas,’ he said. And then he froze.
Becky watched Tom’s face as he listened to whoever was on the other end of the line. He sat forward in his seat, pushing his mobile hard against his ear.
‘Where is she?’ he asked, his voice terse. There was a pause. ‘I’m on my way.’ Tom was already on his feet, reaching for his jacket, thrusting his arm into one sleeve as he ran for the door.
Becky and Keith watched but said nothing, waiting for him to speak.
‘It’s Louisa. She collapsed in the supermarket and she’s been rushed to St Mary’s. I need to go. Speak to Philippa, Becky. Tell her what we know.’
Before Becky could offer any words of encouragement Tom was out of the door, his feet thundering down the corridor.
70
Ash didn’t have to wait long before he received his instructions via text:
go to the lowry outlet. wait on steps outside facing theatre. terry will find you. 15 minutes.
He dropped his head and took a deep breath. It wasn’t far, but he was on crutches. Could he make it in fifteen minutes, and how was he going to negotiate the steps, for Christ’s sake?
He was on the point of texting back to suggest somewhere better, but he stopped himself. She might call it off altogether if he didn’t do exactly as she asked. It was a while since he’d been to the Lowry, but he had a feeling he could walk all the way along the path by the side of the canal, and there were bound to be ramps for disabled access, so he wouldn’t have to use the stairs. But to get there in time, he needed to leave immediately.