IMPURITY Ray Clark (types of ebook readers .txt) 📖

see if any amounts of the poison have gone missing. I want a check of all the doctors’ surgeries. Find out if any of them keep it, particularly Thornwell’s doctor.” Gardener turned to Sharp. “I presume he had one.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. We’ll need his details, check him out. I want two of you to continue digging into Plum and Thornwell’s past. Dig deep. Check the sex offenders list. Could only be one isolated incident binding these two. I want to know what it is. For the time being, we can leave the drug dealers alone. It’s not their territory, it’s too specialized.

“The manipulation of the poison suggests the killer knows what they’re doing. They are cunning. The syringe was probably left on purpose. Which means they’re playing some kind of game with us. We need to be on our guard. Sooner or later, they’re going to make a mistake. I want no stone left unturned. I also want someone checking out the dangerous drugs register. It’s a big operation, and it’ll take nearly all of you.”

Gardener allowed the information to digest before choosing his next topic. Hesitantly, he turned to Reilly. “Will you do the honours, Sean?”

Reilly passed an artist impression around the room, a composite sketch of Warthead.

“Does everyone have a copy?” Gardener held his aloft. He’d hesitated before presenting the picture because he knew what the reaction would be.

On cue, the whole room descended into silence as each of them stared on and digested.

“Isn’t this…” Brigg asked.

“Where the hell has this scum been hiding?” asked Rawson.

Briggs finally finished his sentence. “Isn’t this the bloke who pulled the trigger on your missus?”

Gardener nodded. “The information I have about the photo-fit is minimal. They call him Felix. He’s about five foot three with a face full of warts and a misshapen head. He’s usually dressed in jeans, and a black leather jacket with a golden eagle emblem on the back and an American slogan. He’s perhaps nineteen or twenty.”

“Is he involved in all of this?” asked Thornton.

Gardener nodded again. “To what extent I’m not sure, but I would like to speak to him in connection with the child abductions. He was seen with David Vickers on the day he went missing, buying him presents.”

“I don’t believe this,” said Sharp. “We’ve had stuff out on this bloke for a year… because of what he did…”

“It’s okay, Colin,” said Gardener, “you can say it.”

Sharp’s expression said that he was still too embarrassed to bring it up. “Well, since he, you know…”

“I think what he’s trying to say is,” offered Briggs, “that we’ve been looking for him since he shot Sarah, and we haven’t found a thing. Now, we’re involved in one of the biggest child abduction cases we’ve ever had, and who should rear his ugly head but this scally?”

“Well put,” said Dave Rawson. “Even ugly doesn’t do it justice.”

“How is he tied in with this lot?” asked Bob Anderson.

“From the information compiled, we know he was a colleague of Plum’s. The two appear to have been quite close.”

PC Benson put his hand up. “I think I might have seen him recently, sir.”

“Where?”

“One of the nightclubs in Leeds. But it was late and I’d had a few.”

“I appreciate that, and the fact that you haven’t been with us long so you may not know the backdrop to what we’re talking about. Have you noticed anything strange about his behaviour? Drug peddling, anything?”

Benson paused. “I’m sorry, sir. I never paid him a great deal of attention, other than to look at him.”

A mixture of emotions warred within Gardener. Disappointment, due to the lack of information surrounding Warthead. Frustration, because his wife’s killer was alive and elusive. Anger, because he desperately wanted the chance to avenge Sarah’s pointless death.

“Never mind. From now on, you’re all looking out for him. Frank, Bob, I’d like you two personally on his case. When you find him, bring him straight here. Whatever the time, day or night. When you find him, find me.”

“It might not be that simple, Stewart,” said Briggs.

“Meaning what?”

“Meaning that this might be personal.”

“Not yet, it isn’t,” replied Reilly.

Sharp nodded, agreeing. “We want him for questioning, sir, in connection with the abductions. But he might not be involved.”

“Bit of a coincidence, isn’t it?” said Briggs. “But if he is, Stewart, then it is personal and I’ll have to remove you from the case.”

Another silence descended. As Gardener peered around the room, he realized it didn’t take a genius to work out what they were thinking.

Anderson broke the tension. “Then you’ll have to remove us all, sir.”

“Pardon?” asked Briggs.

“I’m not being awkward, sir, and I’m not threatening anyone or anything,” replied Anderson, standing to address the DCI.

You could have heard a pin drop. “But I think I speak for all of us when I say that the night that scroat put a bullet in Sarah he made it personal… for all of us. He might as well have shot us all.”

The rest of the team nodded and stood in unison.

“So yes,” continued Anderson. “It is personal, but not just for the boss.”

Chapter Forty-two

Malcolm sat comfortably. He’d been wined and dined. He’d enjoyed the company. The surroundings of Anei Bâlcescu’s conservatory would be more than adequate to while away the rest of the evening. Anei wheeled in a trolley containing coffees and an assortment of homemade cakes.

“You certainly know how to spoil a man.”

“Some men are worth spoiling. We have a proverb in Romania. We don’t eat to live. We live to eat. You are a man who enjoys your food.”

“I’ve enjoyed myself tonight. That’s the best meal I’ve ever eaten.” Malcolm truly meant what he’d said. It had been his first traditional Romanian dish. Cabbage à la cluj hadn’t sounded particularly appetizing,