down,’ said Cotter once she’d finished. ‘Coordinate.’
Marina wanted to shout out that she didn’t want to sit down, that she wanted something done immediately, but she swallowed down what would have been grossly unprofessional behaviour and took a seat.
Cotter had a small table and four chairs in her office for meetings. She moved over to it, followed by Marina and Imani.
‘Right,’ Cotter said, once they were settled, ‘plan of action. Imani, I want you to get over to Marina’s house straight away. Take a couple of uniforms with you. Go door to door. I want to know if Phil was seen this morning, getting into a car or otherwise. I want to know if anyone else was there with him.’
‘Maybe he drove to Colchester himself,’ said Imani.
‘Not likely,’ said Cotter. ‘He knew someone was coming for him.’ She turned to Marina. ‘Was his Audi parked on the street?’
Marina felt that impatience rise within her again. ‘Yes, but —’
Back to Imani. ‘Check that it’s still there.’
Imani made a note.
‘And then what?’ asked Marina, barely suppressing her distress.
Cotter turned to her, about to answer. Marina continued.
‘This is all… pointless. We know he’s gone. You should get a description issued, get out on the roads, check CCTV, just…’ she sighed, ‘… be doing something…’
‘We are doing something,’ said Cotter. ‘This is where we start, what we do. We work methodically. You know that.’
Marina said nothing.
‘I know how you must feel. And I want him back as quickly as possible too. But let’s not abandon all sense of procedure just because it’s one of our own. That should be all the more reason to follow it. Speed, not haste.’
Marina slowly nodded. She knew Cotter was right. That what she was implementing was the way forward. She just wanted confirmation that Phil was safe. And she knew she wouldn’t get it.
‘Perhaps there’s something you could do, Marina?’ asked Imani.
‘Like what?’
‘Well, if this is OK with the boss…’ She looked over at Cotter who nodded. ‘If this is who we think it is, checking out Fiona Welch’s background. Going over the case notes from the woman who claimed to be her. See if there are any similarities, things we might’ve missed. Corresponding behaviours. Anything that might give us a clue, a break. Look at it from a psychologist’s point of view not a police officer’s.’
Marina nodded. ‘OK.’ She knew it was work that needed to be done and she was the best person for it, but she felt it was being given to her just to keep her busy.
‘Good idea,’ said Cotter. ‘But I only want you doing this if you feel up to it. I realise it’s uncomfortably close to home but I don’t want that clouding your judgement. Can you do it?’
Marina, her face impassive, unreadable, said, ‘I can do it.’
‘Good.’ Cotter looked at Imani. ‘Right. Get to work. Let’s find him.’
10
P hil opened his eyes. Blinked. Again. Looked round. He was home.
Confused, he tried sitting up. Couldn’t, something was stopping him. He fell down again, on his back. He was warm but couldn’t move. He tested his limbs once more: restrained, wrists and ankles. And he was naked too. A duvet covered him, pillows behind his head. He looked down the length of his body. The print on the duvet was the one he had at home.
He looked round the room once more.
His
room.
His
bedroom. The one he shared with Marina in Moseley village. And it was dark, the curtains closed. The only light coming from the bedside light on his bedside table. He blinked once more, confused. Checked himself over again.
He hurt. Down one side. His right. Why did he…
Then he remembered: he had been in the car. Passenger. With Beresford. On his way to…
Beresford.
The taser. Was that what it had been? Or some kind of stun gun? Something like that. Speeding up, going faster, couldn’t get out, his questions were… Then the look on Beresford’s face –
Marina wanted to shout out that she didn’t want to sit down, that she wanted something done immediately, but she swallowed down what would have been grossly unprofessional behaviour and took a seat.
Cotter had a small table and four chairs in her office for meetings. She moved over to it, followed by Marina and Imani.
‘Right,’ Cotter said, once they were settled, ‘plan of action. Imani, I want you to get over to Marina’s house straight away. Take a couple of uniforms with you. Go door to door. I want to know if Phil was seen this morning, getting into a car or otherwise. I want to know if anyone else was there with him.’
‘Maybe he drove to Colchester himself,’ said Imani.
‘Not likely,’ said Cotter. ‘He knew someone was coming for him.’ She turned to Marina. ‘Was his Audi parked on the street?’
Marina felt that impatience rise within her again. ‘Yes, but —’
Back to Imani. ‘Check that it’s still there.’
Imani made a note.
‘And then what?’ asked Marina, barely suppressing her distress.
Cotter turned to her, about to answer. Marina continued.
‘This is all… pointless. We know he’s gone. You should get a description issued, get out on the roads, check CCTV, just…’ she sighed, ‘… be doing something…’
‘We are doing something,’ said Cotter. ‘This is where we start, what we do. We work methodically. You know that.’
Marina said nothing.
‘I know how you must feel. And I want him back as quickly as possible too. But let’s not abandon all sense of procedure just because it’s one of our own. That should be all the more reason to follow it. Speed, not haste.’
Marina slowly nodded. She knew Cotter was right. That what she was implementing was the way forward. She just wanted confirmation that Phil was safe. And she knew she wouldn’t get it.
‘Perhaps there’s something you could do, Marina?’ asked Imani.
‘Like what?’
‘Well, if this is OK with the boss…’ She looked over at Cotter who nodded. ‘If this is who we think it is, checking out Fiona Welch’s background. Going over the case notes from the woman who claimed to be her. See if there are any similarities, things we might’ve missed. Corresponding behaviours. Anything that might give us a clue, a break. Look at it from a psychologist’s point of view not a police officer’s.’
Marina nodded. ‘OK.’ She knew it was work that needed to be done and she was the best person for it, but she felt it was being given to her just to keep her busy.
‘Good idea,’ said Cotter. ‘But I only want you doing this if you feel up to it. I realise it’s uncomfortably close to home but I don’t want that clouding your judgement. Can you do it?’
Marina, her face impassive, unreadable, said, ‘I can do it.’
‘Good.’ Cotter looked at Imani. ‘Right. Get to work. Let’s find him.’
10
P hil opened his eyes. Blinked. Again. Looked round. He was home.
Confused, he tried sitting up. Couldn’t, something was stopping him. He fell down again, on his back. He was warm but couldn’t move. He tested his limbs once more: restrained, wrists and ankles. And he was naked too. A duvet covered him, pillows behind his head. He looked down the length of his body. The print on the duvet was the one he had at home.
He looked round the room once more.
His
room.
His
bedroom. The one he shared with Marina in Moseley village. And it was dark, the curtains closed. The only light coming from the bedside light on his bedside table. He blinked once more, confused. Checked himself over again.
He hurt. Down one side. His right. Why did he…
Then he remembered: he had been in the car. Passenger. With Beresford. On his way to…
Beresford.
The taser. Was that what it had been? Or some kind of stun gun? Something like that. Speeding up, going faster, couldn’t get out, his questions were… Then the look on Beresford’s face –
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