Dive by Jon Barton

Author:Jon Barton [Barton, Jon]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-01-13T13:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Two

Ten minutes later, David made for the street, one foot stalking the other, eyes drilling angrily into the pavement. It was flecked with gum and cigarettes, and his daughter’s face.

Lex. Always Lex, ricocheting around his head.

As he turned a corner, he met an unexpected sight. Naomi Harding was waiting further down the street — and she was wearing uniform. She’d not worn No. 1 dress in his company before, but there she was: black suit, white shirt, black-and-white checked cravat, epaulettes on her shoulder.

Holy shit. She’s an inspector.

He mentally catalogued every transaction he ever had with Naomi. Every word and slight. She’d told him she was a DI but he hadn’t listened. He had assumed her rank had been stripped from her when she was sent to work for the Marine Police. What did this mean? Was she still a ranked police officer? Was she still part of a task force? If so, what was she doing in the Marine Policing Unit?

It was then he caught wind of another idea. Naomi could help him — make sense of all he’d seen at The Pale Horse. David didn’t know why Baines had seized the bodies, but Naomi might. Maybe that was why she’d been snooping in the captain’s office . . . David had to wonder whether she would help him, given he had got her suspended. If she refused, he would have to convince her somehow.

Naomi’s back was to him. She had her eyes on her phone, and when the unmarked car pulled up beside her, he realized she’d booked herself an Uber. Wapping was a pesky part of town and a blind spot for public transport. She clambered in, and the vehicle veered away.

David sprinted into the open and splayed his own hand as Harding’s car made its departure. A black cab passed by (mercifully frequent for the time of day) and David piled into the back seat. He tapped the glass. ‘See that car? I want you to follow it.’

‘Follow it? Do I look like Huggy Bear?’ The cabbie’s eyes were darkened by a flat cap, and he threw a glance in the rear-view mirror.

David slapped a pair of twenty-pound notes on the tray. ‘Drive.’

During the short journey he fidgeted on the back seat, watching Harding’s Uber through the windscreen. The air con was turned up high, and he was grateful for that. They were travelling west, along Upper Thames Street, which ran parallel to the river. They passed the Tower, Temple and Waterloo Bridge. At Whitehall Gardens, Harding’s car turned off. The cabbie’s eyes met David’s in the rear-view as he followed.

‘So, what’s this about? You the nick?’

David said nothing.

‘If you’re the Old Bill, show me some ID.’

David held the man’s gaze.

‘Look, I don’t wanna be an accessory—’

‘Turn here.’ David leaned forward as the Uber stopped on Dacre Street. He climbed out, feeling the heat immediately, and jogged towards Naomi. She was already walking away from her car along the street in the other direction.

‘Hey!’

She span round.

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