Page 140
Story: Making a Killing
‘She had this way of twirling her hair round a finger –’
‘Well, being devil’s advocate, that’s hardly unique.’
‘I know. But she would do it forward and back. You know, one way then back again.’ She shrugs. ‘I know it sounds a bit – fanciful, but the woman queuing at the Atlanta cheque outlet was doing the same thing even though her hair is short – like it was an old habit –’
And even if you’re pretending, like in a play, you’re still the same person underneath.
‘Did we ever get any images from Birmingham airport?’
Sargent catches my drift straight away. ‘From when Kate first arrived? We did ask but they’ve been slow. But I can chase.’
‘Do that, please. And I don’t just want images of her – I want some of Daisy too, when she arrived at Holyhead. We need to be sure about this.’
She sits down and pulls up her email. ‘I’ll do it now, sir.’
‘And get in touch with Finn O’Brien, and Siobhan Reynoldsin Belfast, and show them that footage from the US. But make sure it’s an open question – don’t lead the witness. Just ask them to identify the person at the counter each time.’
‘Right, sir.’
‘If it really was Kate, they’re the ones who’ll know.’
***
Quinn impresses himself by being early into the office the following morning. It was his mother-in-law’s birthday the day before, so they had a lavish meal at the Cherwell Boathouse and rather a lot of rather good red wine. Even though it was a work night, when Maisie’s father is paying, Quinn always manages to make an exception. Quality shows, though, as he only has the suggestion of a hangover and is actually feeling quite chipper, unlike Maisie who’s had a stomach bug for days and barely drank anything last night.
He’s rather surprised to see that Chloe Sargent is already in, already up at a flipchart. She must have filched it from Uniform, judging by the slightly grubbyReducing Crime, Disorder and Fearsticker clinging to the top.
He hangs his jacket over his chair and goes up to her, but it’s only when he starts speaking that she even realizes he’s there.
‘Sorry, sir, I was miles away.’
‘What’s all this?’
She’s chewing the end of the marker pen. ‘I’m trying to get my head round it all.’
She clearly assumes he knows what she’s talking about. And he remembers now that she sent an urgent team email late last night, only what with the meal and Maisie throwing up again this morning he never got round to opening it. Wing-it time.
‘So,’ he says, in his best Acting DI tones, ‘talk me through your thinking.’
Others of the team are arriving now and, unlike him, they evidently did get the memo.
‘So,’ says Sargent as they gather round, ‘these are all the images we have, as at now. Still waiting on two of the cheque-cashing places, but we had new footage in overnight from the Nashville one, as well as Holyhead, Belfast airport and Birmingham International.’
The door opens at the back and Fawley comes in, still carrying his briefcase. Quinn straightens his shoulders a little, glad he’s up the front looking like all of this is his idea.
‘Please, carry on,’ says Fawley, when he realizes they’ve all fallen silent.
Ev gives Sargent an encouraging smile, and she turns to the whiteboard, and the three columns of images she’s pinned up.
‘So, on the left-hand side we have Daisy leaving Dublin on June 14th and then arriving in Holyhead. On the right is Kate leaving Belfast on the 15th and arriving at Birmingham International later that same day. And in the middle is the woman who withdrew the money at Miami, Orlando, Nashville and Atlanta.’
‘So,’ says Gis, ‘the first thing that strikes me is the luggage.’
He moves a bit closer to the board. ‘Looks like Daisy had a backpack when she arrived in Holyhead, though you can’t see it very clearly. Whereas when Kate comes through Birmingham International she’s got more of a holdall thing.’
Baxter nods. ‘And the woman who dropped off the car at Evesham has the exact same holdall. As does the woman getting the cash. It’sKate – I’d bet my mortgage on it.’
‘Bags can easily be switched,’ says Sargent evenly. ‘But fair enough, if you want to go for the most straightforward explanation –’
‘Well, being devil’s advocate, that’s hardly unique.’
‘I know. But she would do it forward and back. You know, one way then back again.’ She shrugs. ‘I know it sounds a bit – fanciful, but the woman queuing at the Atlanta cheque outlet was doing the same thing even though her hair is short – like it was an old habit –’
And even if you’re pretending, like in a play, you’re still the same person underneath.
‘Did we ever get any images from Birmingham airport?’
Sargent catches my drift straight away. ‘From when Kate first arrived? We did ask but they’ve been slow. But I can chase.’
‘Do that, please. And I don’t just want images of her – I want some of Daisy too, when she arrived at Holyhead. We need to be sure about this.’
She sits down and pulls up her email. ‘I’ll do it now, sir.’
‘And get in touch with Finn O’Brien, and Siobhan Reynoldsin Belfast, and show them that footage from the US. But make sure it’s an open question – don’t lead the witness. Just ask them to identify the person at the counter each time.’
‘Right, sir.’
‘If it really was Kate, they’re the ones who’ll know.’
***
Quinn impresses himself by being early into the office the following morning. It was his mother-in-law’s birthday the day before, so they had a lavish meal at the Cherwell Boathouse and rather a lot of rather good red wine. Even though it was a work night, when Maisie’s father is paying, Quinn always manages to make an exception. Quality shows, though, as he only has the suggestion of a hangover and is actually feeling quite chipper, unlike Maisie who’s had a stomach bug for days and barely drank anything last night.
He’s rather surprised to see that Chloe Sargent is already in, already up at a flipchart. She must have filched it from Uniform, judging by the slightly grubbyReducing Crime, Disorder and Fearsticker clinging to the top.
He hangs his jacket over his chair and goes up to her, but it’s only when he starts speaking that she even realizes he’s there.
‘Sorry, sir, I was miles away.’
‘What’s all this?’
She’s chewing the end of the marker pen. ‘I’m trying to get my head round it all.’
She clearly assumes he knows what she’s talking about. And he remembers now that she sent an urgent team email late last night, only what with the meal and Maisie throwing up again this morning he never got round to opening it. Wing-it time.
‘So,’ he says, in his best Acting DI tones, ‘talk me through your thinking.’
Others of the team are arriving now and, unlike him, they evidently did get the memo.
‘So,’ says Sargent as they gather round, ‘these are all the images we have, as at now. Still waiting on two of the cheque-cashing places, but we had new footage in overnight from the Nashville one, as well as Holyhead, Belfast airport and Birmingham International.’
The door opens at the back and Fawley comes in, still carrying his briefcase. Quinn straightens his shoulders a little, glad he’s up the front looking like all of this is his idea.
‘Please, carry on,’ says Fawley, when he realizes they’ve all fallen silent.
Ev gives Sargent an encouraging smile, and she turns to the whiteboard, and the three columns of images she’s pinned up.
‘So, on the left-hand side we have Daisy leaving Dublin on June 14th and then arriving in Holyhead. On the right is Kate leaving Belfast on the 15th and arriving at Birmingham International later that same day. And in the middle is the woman who withdrew the money at Miami, Orlando, Nashville and Atlanta.’
‘So,’ says Gis, ‘the first thing that strikes me is the luggage.’
He moves a bit closer to the board. ‘Looks like Daisy had a backpack when she arrived in Holyhead, though you can’t see it very clearly. Whereas when Kate comes through Birmingham International she’s got more of a holdall thing.’
Baxter nods. ‘And the woman who dropped off the car at Evesham has the exact same holdall. As does the woman getting the cash. It’sKate – I’d bet my mortgage on it.’
‘Bags can easily be switched,’ says Sargent evenly. ‘But fair enough, if you want to go for the most straightforward explanation –’
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