Читать книгу Trust Me - Angela Clarke, Angela Clarke - Страница 24

‘I don’t want to keep you,’ Nasreen said. Tibbsy had joined Moast and Freddie in the Jubilee’s polystyrene-ceiling-tiled hallway. She needed to get back to the office and confirm her suspicions about what she’d seen on Amber’s Facebook. This could potentially change the whole direction of their investigation.

‘Still sprinting ahead, hey, Nas?’ Tibbsy enveloped her in a hug, pressing her face into his white shirt. She could feel his collar bone against her cheek. He smelt vaguely of shower gel and sun cream. ‘You back to stay?’

She laughed. It had been such a long time since anyone had seemed so pleased to see her. Again she wondered if she’d made a mistake in leaving. Tibbsy was a good partner.

‘’Fraid not. This is a flying visit. Wanted to ask you and the guv about a stop-and-search you did last June. Paul Robertson – the Rodriguezes’ drug runner?’

‘Ha! I remember that.’ Moast signalled for them to duck into his office.

Tibbsy’s face had flushed pink. ‘Not my finest hour.’

‘Why’s that then?’ Freddie asked, as they squeezed into the room. The plant in the corner had died since she’d left. Nasreen wondered if anyone else had watered it. Or even noticed the brown leaves.

‘Bit of a cock-up, wasn’t it, Tibbs?’ Moast grinned.

‘Yeah, well, I didn’t know who he was, did I?’ Tibbsy rubbed his hand across the back of his neck, and looked at the floor.

‘He got a right royal bollocking from the Drugs lads: they had surveillance on Robertson, when this lunk walked right up and started asking questions. I’d only popped into the office to get some gum. Can’t leave him unattended: he’s like a bloody big kid.’

‘Why did you talk to him if you didn’t know who he was?’ Nasreen said. Freddie was stood in the doorway, her arms folded over her chest. It wasn’t like her to sit on the sidelines.

Tibbsy glanced up quickly before looking back down at his shoes. ‘He just seemed like trouble.’

‘Don’t give me that,’ Moast said. ‘He was doing his whole knight-in-shining-armour bit.’

‘He was shouting at some girl,’ Tibbsy said nervously. ‘I just didn’t like the way he was going off at her.’

‘What did she look like?’ Freddie asked.

Tibbsy shrugged. ‘I dunno.’

‘Liar. He only noticed ’cause she was fit,’ Moast said with a laugh. ‘So he wades in with his badge out, breaking up a fight between one of London’s most notorious gangsters and his missus. Lucky he wasn’t packing heat.’

‘You know that for sure?’ Nasreen said. There were rumours Paul Robertson had been involved in the fatal shooting of an officer twenty years ago, but nothing had ever been proved.

‘He backed right down. Said he was sorry for the fuss,’ Tibbsy said, turning pale. He’d obviously since learnt of Paul’s reputation.

‘What colour hair did she have?’ Freddie said.

Tibbsy shrugged again.

‘Long and dark,’ said Moast. ‘She was a right stunner. Shut her mouth as soon as this one walked up to her. You’ve got that effect on women, don’t ya, lad?’ Moast was enjoying Tibbsy’s embarrassment.

‘What were they arguing about?’ Nasreen asked.

‘How old was she?’ Freddie said.

‘I dunno. Young. Twenty. They were just going at each other in the street.’

‘She had some balls on her,’ Moast said. ‘Not many people would speak to Robertson like that. I thought I was going to have to radio for backup when I saw Tibbs striding over there. Left my debit card in the shop and everything.’

‘What happened?’ said Nasreen. Freddie was frowning, pulling her phone out of her pocket.

‘He said he didn’t want no trouble. She said she was fine and we left it at that,’ Moast said. ‘Didn’t really want to push Robertson without backup. And I’d seen his name on intelligence reports: I knew we probably weren’t alone.’

‘Did she look like this?’ Freddie held out her phone.

Moast took it. ‘Yeah – that’s her. You know who she is?’

Freddie nodded at Nasreen. ‘Oh, yeah: we know all right. That’s his daughter Amber.’

‘But they’re a different colour!’ Tibbsy said disbelievingly.

Freddie rolled her eyes. ‘So’s Nas’s dad: it’s not like it’s a bloody miracle, you tool.’

Tibbsy blushed again. ‘Sorry,’ he said to her.

‘Don’t worry about it.’ Nasreen shook it off. ‘So he was arguing with his daughter in the street twelve days before they both disappeared.’

‘Yeah, and on the same day she posted on her Facebook page that she was feeling down and “everything sucked”,’ Freddie read from her phone. Nasreen was starting to piece together a picture in her mind.

‘That’s his daughter.’ Moast let a whistle out his teeth. ‘She looks like a goer.’

‘She’s fifteen in that photo.’ Freddie minimised the page.

‘No wonder he was doing his nut!’ Moast laughed. Tibbsy made a half-hearted attempt to join in, before a look from Freddie silenced him.

Now Nasreen wanted to get back to the office more than ever. ‘That’s been really helpful.’

‘Has it?’ Freddie sounded surprised.

‘Thanks for your time, sir,’ Nasreen said, holding out her hand for Moast to shake again.

He gripped it and grinned at her, wrapping his other hand over hers. ‘Always a pleasure, Cudmore. Stop by whenever you like. But next time leave Venton in the car, yeah?’

She smiled and nodded, keen to get out of there. If she was right about the man calling himself Corey Banks then this could be explosive. They could have been looking at this all wrong. She was halfway down the corridor back to the car when she heard the slap of Tibbsy’s feet on the linoleum behind her.

‘Hey, Nas,’ he called.

‘Hey, Tibbs – remembered something else?’

‘What?’ His eyebrows knitted briefly together. ‘Oh: no. Sorry. I just wanted to say I was sorry again. For what I said in there. You know me: big mouth – big feet to put in it.’ He looked sheepish.

‘Seriously, forget about it. I have,’ she said.

‘You promise? Because you and me have always been cool, haven’t we?’

‘Yeah, sure,’ she said growing uneasy. Did he want something? Perhaps he was on the lookout to progress from the Jubilee himself?

‘Cool,’ he said. ‘That’s cool then. Brilliant.’ He took a step back, his long arms flapping at his side. Half a wave. ‘Right. I’ll be seeing you then.’

‘Right,’ she said, smiling.

‘Stop by whenever you want.’

‘Okay,’ she said, stepping backwards herself.

‘Okay – so I’ll see you.’

‘Bye,’ she said, sensing this could go on for ages. Tibbsy might want to drag his heels today, but she had things to do. Increasingly pressing things. She glanced at her watch. She could be back at the office in twenty with a bit of luck. Not that it was likely to make a difference now. Not after so long. She could be mistaken, obviously. Could have misread the situation. Briefly she closed her eyes and prayed that that was the case. Because if she was right, if what she suspected were true, then the consequences for Amber could be very bleak indeed.