The Sister(160)

He drifted into the soft embrace of sleep.





Chapter 132



The following morning, Carla phoned Tanner.

‘Hello, John? It’s Carla,’ she said, sounding sheepish.

Tanner flipped his pad back to its first page. He’d titled it New Year, new pad. Four months later, dog-eared and filled with notes, he was on the verge of starting a new one. He found the entry he was looking for two pages in. 4th January – Carla? The question mark was large and florid.

‘Carla?’ he said, the sarcasm in his voice, undisguised. ‘I only called you three months ago.’

‘I’m so sorry, you know how it is. I was working on this story, getting nowhere fast.’

‘You should have said. I might have been able to help.’

‘I don’t think so, John. It’s way out of your area, Newcastle, as a matter of fact.’

‘Newcastle? That’s way out of your area, too, surely?’

‘You know me, I’ll go anywhere there’s a potential story.’

Tanner racked his brains, and tried to figure out what he’d heard from up there lately. January? ‘You’ve got me, Carla. What was it you were working on?

‘Oh, it doesn’t matter now. I’m onto something else, and I suddenly remembered I owed you a call. Did you get anywhere with that gipsy you were trying to trace?’

‘God, Carla, where to start. The short answer is no. We’re still looking for him.’

‘Remind me. What was the background to it?’

When he’d finished, she whistled a single, low note. ‘Now that’s interesting – if you are still stuck in a bit, I'd love to look at it off the record, you know.’

‘We’ll see. What are you on at the moment then?’

‘Have you heard about the Vigilante case recently that happened up North?’

‘You’re up north again, Carla?’ His heart sank a dread realisation upon him. ‘What’s the attraction up there?’ Brady. He recalled their uneasy conversation of a few days before. ‘I guess you’ve been talking to Brady.’

‘Well, of course I have!’ She knew all about his rivalry with Brady, how much he despised him for winning promotion over him, how he’d blamed Kennedy for making it easy for him to join his ex-wife in Scotland.

‘John, listen to me. I only ever maintain professional relationships with my contacts these days. He was a mistake, you know that, but I have to ask you something about Kennedy.’

‘Kennedy?’ Tanner sounded surprised. ‘How have we got onto him?’

‘John, has he said anything about the Vigilante case, anything at all?’

Puzzled by the question, he hesitated.

She heard him draw breath at the other end of the line.

‘I’m pretty sure he said something like, “We’ve got enough problems of our own, so they can bloody-well keep him”, why do you ask?’

‘I heard the men who kidnapped the boy had been mutilated with a baseball bat.’

‘I heard that, too. Let the punishment fit the crime, so to speak. Hang on a minute.’ Theresa entered his office with tea for him. He winked his thanks and she smiled. His old feelings for Carla disappeared as he watched her leave. He lifted the cup to his lips and blew across the hot liquid before he sipped.

‘Are you there?’ Carla demanded. ‘The bat had the initials JFK on it.’

Tanner almost choked on his tea.





The first time she’d met Tanner, the police wanted to interview her because she was the one who'd taken delivery of the package and she’d seen the suspect. She remembered it well.

‘Carla Black?’ He didn’t wait for confirmation. ‘I’m Detective Inspector Michael Brady, and this is DI John Tanner. We need to ask you a few questions, if you don’t mind. We have him on CCTV, but it isn’t the best image. We’re having it enhanced as we speak. Did he say anything to you?’

‘He said, “That’s one for the internet”. I didn’t know what he was talking about; he just handed it to me and left.’

‘You got a close-up look at him, though. How old would you say he was? Were there any distinguishing features you could tell us about, any moles, scars? Anything?’

‘No, not really, other than he was heavily built and hard-eyed. He looked like he’d been in a few scrapes, and he was older up close than he looked when I first saw him approaching. I realised it was because he’d either dyed his hair or had a black wig on.’

‘What makes you say that?’

‘From the lines on his face, he should have had at least some grey hair.’

‘And that’s it?’

‘Yes, I’m afraid it is.’ Her eyes narrowed as a memory drew into focus. ‘Wait a minute. This is going to sound daft, but I’ve just remembered. He sounded just like Clint Eastwood,’ she paused. ‘He also had the same hands as the guy on the DVD.’

The detectives exchanged looks. ‘Did he?’ Brady said.

Why do you say these things, Carla? Her simple statement had given away she’d watched the film. Quickly trying to distance herself from the remark, saying with a thin smile, ‘Well, that’s what I heard, anyway.’ As she showed the two detectives out, each slipped her a card without the other one’s knowledge.