Liz Mistry

Broken Silence


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glance at Archie’s office and for a second considered barging in then and there and demanding to be told exactly what was going on. Fortunately, good sense prevailed and instead she focused on the task in hand. She’d deal with Archie later. ‘Have we got a copy?’

      When Saj nodded she said, ‘Well, let’s at least have a look at Springer leaving the hotel. We can start following her journey from the hotel to when she disappeared.’

      They huddled over the computer with the largest screen and Saj fiddled to get the recording to the right spot. ‘She signed out at 9.57 a.m., so here’s the footage of the front entrance and hotel car park from eight-thirty.’

      They fast-forwarded the recording, keeping an eye out for any transit vans or anything else that stood out. At one minute to ten, Felicity Springer exited the hotel, pulling a trolley case behind her.

      ‘Pause it and zoom in.’ Nikki rarely looked at Springer, preferring to pretend the other woman didn’t exist. Now, it felt a little strange observing her without her knowledge. She frowned. Did Springer look upset? Hard to tell really with the fuzziness of the CCTV, but her body language seemed off. Her head was down, her shoulders, hunched. ‘Try to get a shot of her face, Saj.’

      Saj fiddled a bit, fast-forwarding, and finally managed to get a shot of Springer’s face. ‘She looks upset.’

      Nikki shrugged. ‘Maybe. Or perhaps she’s just hungover. Difficult to tell. Let’s play on. What I want to know is where she went after this. No way did it take nearly an hour and a half to get to where we found her car.’

      They watched as Springer approached her Kia and after slinging her trolley into the boot, got into the driver’s seat. Nikki tried to swallow the pang of envy when she mentally compared the glossy sleek bodywork to her dented wreck. Then she remembered the state of it as she’d seen it earlier with its front end all bashed in, a bullet hole in the driver’s seat and blood on the upholstery. Maybe her own Zafira was preferable after all.

      ‘Smooth ride.’

      Nikki grunted and ignored Sajid’s comment. ‘What the hell’s she doing? Why’s she not moving?’

      Sajid fast-forwarded, minute after minute scrolled past on the screen yet the car remained, engine on but unmoving. Then the door opened.

      Nikki pointed to the screen. ‘Quick, she’s getting out.’

      Saj rewound a little and replayed it on normal speed. The door swung open and then Springer’s head appeared as she vomited onto the concrete. ‘Ah, hungover it is, then.’

      ‘Looks like it,’ said Nikki. ‘Perhaps that’s why she chose to take the back roads despite the snow. Maybe she wanted to avoid getting stopped if she thought she was still over the limit.’ She looked at Saj and saw her own disbelief mirrored on his face. ‘Doesn’t seem like The Spaniel though, does it?’

      ‘Nah, she doesn’t strike me as a get-pissed-at-a-conference sort of woman.’

      ‘Right. Anybody managed to get in touch with her sidekick? Bashir, is it?’

      Saj shook his head. ‘Extended annual leave. Gone to Pakistan. Grandad’s poorly apparently.’

      At that point, Nikki’s phone rang. She looked at it and groaned. ‘It’s my mum.’

      ‘Well, you gotta answer it, Nik. See what she’s been up to.’

      Nikki’s mum had gone to India with her elder sister, supposedly to shop for Nikki’s cousin, Monika’s wedding. But they’d been gone over a month already. In that time, they’d celebrated Holi with relatives in Gujarat, visited the Taj Mahal in Agra, the Red Fort in Jaipur and Gandhi’s ashram in Ahmedebad and now had returned to Gujarat to shop. Nikki missed her mum and would be glad when she returned to Bradford, but right now she didn’t want to have the conversation she suspected her mum wanted to have. ‘She’s going to Navsari tomorrow.’

      ‘And?’

      The phone continued to ring. ‘Bloody sari shopping.’ Nikki frowned and answered it, resigned to the conversation about colours and textures and designs that she would have to have. ‘Hi Mum, you okay?’

      Sajid yelled, ‘Hi Lalita. Don’t worry, I’m keeping Nikki under control whilst you’re away.’

      Her mother sent her love back to Sajid, and then Nikki, with a half-smile on her face, listened to her mum describe the meal she’d had the previous night and a proposed trip to a hill station for the following week, before the conversation turned to clothes. ‘You need to give me some idea of colours, Nikita. Anika, Charlie and Ruby have all given me detailed lists. Even Sunni and Marcus have chosen a few suit designs.’

      Nikki grimaced and stuck out her tongue at Sajid who was grinning at her, seemingly enjoying her discomfort. It was okay for the others, Anika and the girls. They liked flouncing around in saris and Indian suits. Nikki hated it. It wasn’t her style. She always felt uncomfortable. Hoping to reach a compromise, she put a smile into her voice and said, ‘You know what I’d really like to wear for the wedding?’

      Her mother snorted and Nikki thought she heard her say ‘jeans’ but she ignored that and said. ‘A suit. A nice simple shalwar kameez. That’s what I’d like to wear.’

      With a raised eyebrow, Sajid mouthed, ‘Really?’ at her.

      Nikki turned her back on him. Of course, she didn’t want to wear a suit either, but it would be more manageable than a sari.

      ‘Nikki, it’s a wedding. We need to sparkle. Tell you what. I’ll get you and Anika similar saris. Five or six each should do.’

      Nikki’s voice rose. ‘Five or six?’ Shit, no. She had three perfectly good ones at home, why wouldn’t those do? But her mum was already blowing kisses down the phone and giving instructions to pass her love onto the rest of the family before hanging up.

      ‘You look like you’ve been nuked.’

      Nikki tightened her ponytail, grazed her fingers over the scar on her neck and exhaled. ‘Bloody feel like it too. Let’s get back to Springer.’

      They spent the next twenty minutes going through the ANPR footage. They caught sight of the van Springer had described but as she’d said, its registration plates both front and back were obscured.

      ‘It doesn’t look like it targeted her. It was in front of her most of the way from the Wakefield roundabout onwards. Do you think she saw something peculiar before she phoned it in and that’s why she followed it?’

      Nikki shook her head. ‘That doesn’t tie in with her call. It seems to have been completely arbitrary. Which means we’ve got to look for a needle in a haystack. Bet there’s thousands of unmarked plain-white transit vans in the district.’

      Saj nodded, looking as fed up as she felt. ‘I’ll action it and get a couple of uniforms trawling through it. Any word from the helicopter search yet?’

      ‘Nah, probably too soon.’

      ‘Okay, we need to interview everyone at the conference too. Not that I think her disappearance is owt to do with that conference but still, better to cover all our bases.’

      Sajid was already scrolling down a list of delegates and conference attendees. ‘This lot are a right motley bunch. We’ve got your Anika’s boyfriend, the ever so moral – and married, I hasten to add – Yousaf Mirza. Also, that homophobic friend of yours from vice, DI Joe Drummond. Archie’s on the list as is his mate DCI Eddie Capaldi and a whole load more dignitaries.’

      His voice trailed off as Archie’s office door slammed open and DCS Clark stormed past them with barely a nod of acknowledgement as she left. Archie, red-faced, with his hair spiked on top of his head like two devil horns on either side of his bald patch followed her into the room, staring after his boss with a frown that was enough to have Nikki hesitate before approaching him.

      He seemed to realize that Sajid and Nikki were staring at him and growled out