Bit of Neil/Grace, hope you enjoy ...
A grim-faced Max strode back into Sun Hill less than fifteen minutes later, the evidence bag thrown at Eddie to clumsily catch, his orders barked at him. Max didn't hang around to listen to Eddie's usual grumbles about late lunches and lack of appreciation for his art.
"What would I do without you?" If that hadn't been bad enough, the sensation of her warm body against his, her softness, her trust, certainly was. It had taken nearly all his mental strength to overcome the guilt tugging at his heart. It was at times like these that he rather wished he could go back to the old days when he didn't have one. Momentarily he blamed Millie for that. She'd woken him with that slap, all that time ago. He expected he'd receive another before long. If he was lucky.
He was gratified to note on entering CID that his mood escaped no one. Tommy was the only one to meet his eyes unflinching, a silent communication passing between the two men, to be discussed later. Both Grace and Susie watched him warily. Susie because she was still becoming accustomed to the stories of his sometimes dubious methods of man-management. Grace because she was usually the victim of said methods. His nostrils flared, often a forewarning of a barrage to come, his eyes coldly taking stock of the room. Every fibre of his body appeared to be on edge, just waiting for an excuse to explode, as he came to a standstill before them, hands on hips. Susie pulled herself up straighter, raising her chin and earning an appreciative glance from Tommy into the bargain. She caught it out of the corner of her eye and pretended to wipe away a crumb of biscuit from the corner of her mouth to hide the smile that threatened to unmask her. Grace swallowed, dreading with a degree of resignation what was likely to come next but her attention was immediately diverted as the door behind Max opened once again.
"Ah, Max. Glad you're back. Has Susie filled you in?" Max slowly turned, his body following his head and for a moment the malevolence was directed entirely at his ranking officer. Neil, however, appeared oblivious, staring with confusion at the two cups of coffee in his hands, first making to place one on Grace's desk before changing his mind and placing the other instead. Grace smiled her thanks and pulled it closer. Somehow she felt protected by his presence. Max wouldn't belittle her in front of him. By the time Neil looked back up at Max, the venom in his demeanour was gone, giving way to professional curiosity. To Grace, it was yet another example of his incredible talent for duplicity.
Neil took a sip from his cup, gesturing at Susie to continue.
She took the cue, "from the call he made to his mother this morning, TIU have traced his phone to somewhere on the Coal Lane Estate but it's been switched off since then. No trace of it leaving the area."
"Perhaps he's still there?" suggested Tommy.
"Maybe," agreed Max, "but it doesn't show much intelligence if he is."
"Judging by his mother I doubt he's brain of Britain," declared Susie drily.
"Hmm. But I don't believe for one moment that he is the one pulling the strings here and if he is following orders-"
"Barsukov?" she interjected.
"Possibly. There's no connection to anyone else. If he is following orders, then I'm willing to bet he has been told not to leave any trace, to make any calls well away from where Carly is being held. Get uniform over there to ask around though, somebody could have seen him which might give us something to go on."
"Susie is already on it, Guv," said Tommy, leaning forward earnestly. "Inspector Smith has a couple of units out there today anyway, community relations."
Max nodded approval at his second. Grace gritted her teeth and cast her gaze down to her cup, if she had made such arrangements Max would no doubt still have found fault somehow. He probably would have expected her to get on and carry out the door-to-door herself. When she looked back up again she found Neil watching her, brow furrowed with concern. She wondered if he was reading her mind.
Max took in the private interaction between them, he didn't like it. "Right, well I'm going to put a few questions to this Mr Barsukov, he's involved in this somehow. Care to join me," four people waited to find out who his was asking, "Sir?"
"Er, no. I'll sit this one out. You should take Grace though. She might give a different perspective."
Max felt his hackles begin to rise at the interference but then it occurred to him that this was just as good a way as any to keep these two apart. "Yeah," he managed graciously, "five minutes Grace. Tommy, a word in my office."
Grace dropped her head into one hand, her elbow propped on the desk, looking up when Neil spoke.
"You okay?"
"Yes, Sir. A sudden headache, that's all." She stood, an urgent need to escape to the photocopier assailed her, to get away from Susie and Tommy who were watching with keen interest and giving Neil no option but to follow if he wanted to carry on the conversation.
"You'd rather not go with Max?" She didn't answer. "I see. I know what he's doing. To you."
Grace turned away and stabbed at a button on the machine. "Then why did you suggest that I get in a car with him and drive halfway across London?" she muttered angrily.
"Because I believe that you might just see something that he will miss. He's too connected to this case, that's why Susie and I are here."
"What do you mean 'connected'?"
"You know that Millie Brown is Fleischmann's Goddaughter?" Grace nodded. "Even so, Max is determined to take him down. He's treading a fine line between family and th e job."
"But Fleischmann's daughter-"
"I know, I know. Max needs to stay focussed on finding Carly first, anything else has to come second, for now at least."
"And you're worried that he'll forget that?"
"I think he already has. Look Grace, I know you don't get on with him," Neil ignored her snort of derision at the understatement, "but he is a good officer. I don't want him to make a decision he'll regret."
"What's that got to do with me?"
"Oh Grace, come on. You are not this petty. Go along with him to meet Barsukov, find out what the guy has to say, keep Max in check. Ask the right questions." Grace looked at him doubtfully, still unconvinced. "I have faith in you, Grace, and I respect you. Don't let him turn you into something you're not, prove him wrong." Slowly, she nodded once more, his last words appearing to be the key, and walked back to her desk, leaving Neil watching her retreating figure with more than a hint of admiration.
"Those two look cosy," commented Tommy, watching the tete-a-tete through the blinds.
"Don't they just," Max looked up from his desk to follow Tommy's line of sight. "How are you getting on with Susie?"
"Oh very well, I think she's fallen for my charm."
"I hope not. I want them out of here."
"Ha ha. Getting in the way, are they?"
"Something like that. This is going to be a Sun Hill collar, not SOCA."
"Don't worry, boss. I'm on it."
-ooOoo-
The drive from Sun Hill to St. Katharine's Dock was predictably slow. Outside of their air-conditioned bubble, tempers frayed in the late afternoon heat as the horns of the white vans and black cabs played a chaotic symphony. Roads were littered with cones and barriers without a workman in sight, Max's bugbear. One of them anyway. He cursed under his breath repeatedly, staring ahead, barely acknowledging his colleague beside him, her elbow resting against the car door, praying for the congestion to miraculously subside and allow them to sail along the final mile to their destination. She could have continued in silence, it suited her to not talk, but she could hear Neil's plea in her head.
"How is Millie getting on?"
"Fine."
"Must be hard for her. Carly being a childhood friend."
"They weren't friends. Their parents are friends. Not Millie and Carly."
"Oh." This was even harder work than she anticipated. "I assume she's aware of Neil and Susie in the office?" Max didn't answer but instead changed gear with increased vehemence. "You haven't told her?" asked Grace with incredulity.
"She knows that SOCA is assisting at the station. I haven't had a chance to tell her it's Manson," he muttered, glancing at her very briefly then jerkily turning the steering well to avoid a random cone at the side of the road.
"Don't you think she'd want to know?"
"Maybe, but it isn't that important, not to all of us anyway." His pointed retort hit the mark and heat rushed into her cheeks, silencing her for the rest of the journey.
Max parked at the concierge office of the marina, flashing his warrant card at the security guard to gain entry though the metal gates leading to the jetties. Expensive motor boats and yachts lined each one, some dormant and mothballed, others a hive of activity with crew busily cleaning and painting. The atmosphere was one of hard graft in anticipation of high times to come on these floating luxury hotels. It didn't take long to reach 'La Sondra', excited laughter rang out, drawing them to it.
"I'm looking for Kiril Barsukov," he called up to a young woman dressed in a bikini top and tight cut off denim short shorts, whose laughter died at the intrusion as she looked down at the pair from the deck of the gleaming gin palace.
"You found him," a tall lean-framed man appeared from below deck, casually dressed for the South of France rather than the central London location. Max reckoned he was somewhere in his forties, possibly early, possibly late. Difficult to say, he was so immaculately groomed as to be almost ageless. His demeanour was outwardly friendly but there was coolness that exuded power and innate authority. "And you are?"
"Detective Inspector Carter and Detective Constable Dasari. May we?"
"By all means, officers," he replied courteously. Never one to be comfortable on anything but solid dry land, Max gingerly took the lead walking along the narrow roped gangway and up onto the deck. "Svetlana, another bottle of water please, I'm sure our guests will be thirsty, and on duty." The girl disappeared below deck and the two men shared a moment of appreciation. "Nice girl," Barsukov sighed to Max, "regrettably too young for me, but maybe for you ..." Max chuckled and held up a hand indicating that he too was only interested in looking. Grace clenched her fists, loathing both for their tactless display of chauvinism. She might just as well have been invisible. "So," he gestured to the cushioned seats under the royal blue canopy, inviting them to sit, "what brings you to my home?"
Max smiled at the girl as she set down the drinks. She didn't smile back, he wondered if he was losing his touch.
"We're investigating the disappearance of the daughter of one of your associates."
"Really? Who?"
"Carly Fleischmann. Daughter of-"
"Georgie," Barsukov broke in, "although I wouldn't say he is an associate. More of an acquaintance." He took a sip from his glass. "That's terrible. Do you have any idea what has happened to her?"
"Our enquiries are on-going, Sir," said Grace, "one of them being that her abduction may be a reprisal against him."
"A reprisal? Why would anybody want to do that? What sort of people do you think he associates with?"
Grace ignored his questions. "Just what is the basis of your relationship with Mr Fleischmann?" she asked more sharply than she intended.
"Mainly social, I like his club and the other bar he runs."
"It's quite a way from here, surely there must be places closer that you could choose."
"Yes, I'm sure there are. But I like the earthiness of the East End, there is less pretence, real characters. I like it. Somehow it reminds me of home. And of course I have several business interests in the area."
"Quite an empire in fact." Barsukov looked at her sharply and then to Max. Grace expected him to jump in and takeover, but he didn't, instead he leant back against the plump cushions, his eyes not leaving Barsukov, clearly giving her leave to continue.
"Am I under suspicion of being involved?" his tone had turned curt.
She regarded him for a moment, deliberating on how to play this. Whether to back down or pursue her line of questioning. Max was being of no help and she couldn't help wondering if he was giving her the rope to hang herself.
"We want to establish the facts surrounding Carly's disappearance and that includes Mr Flesichmann's business interests. Now you said that you are not an associate of his, but we have reason to believe that you have been operating out of the Parisa Bar for several months. Is that correct?"
"Georgie was kind enough to allow me to use some of his property, while my own offices were being refurbished."
"But you are still there?"
"It has become very convenient. Georgie and I are in negotiations for a more permanent arrangement."
"What do you have in mind? Planning to take over his bar?"
Barsukov gave a little hard laugh. "And you think I would abduct his daughter to force him into selling to me?" He shook his head. "I am a businessman, Ms Dasari, neither an extortionist nor a kidnapper. I am not in the habit of employing such low tactics for financial gain."
He was smooth, Grace gave him that. Quite possibly too smooth. "Does David Austin work for you?"
"He does, from time to time."
"Have you seen him or heard from him in the last day or so?"
"No. Which is surprising."
"Why?
"I asked him to call me today. I can only assume something has happened at home. He lives with his mother, who I believe can be demanding on his time. He is her only family."
"How would you describe his character?"
"A little hot headed at times, but hard-working. I wouldn't hire him otherwise."
"Not afraid to get his hands dirty?"
"I'm not sure I like what you're implying Ms Dasari."
"We know he had a run in with Miss Fleischmann a few weeks ago."
"From what I have heard and seen, Carly frequently has disagreements with people. Although I can't imagine that any would want to abduct her, not even David. I suggest you look further afield. Has it occurred to you that she may have been taken by a stranger?"
"That is very rarely the case, Mr Barsukov."
"But possible and it would be a horrendous misjudgement on your part if you failed investigate the possibility, don't you agree?"
"Please be assured that we are investigating every possibility," replied Grace tersely, kicking herself for rising to his obvious derision of her.
"Well, thank you for your time Mr Barsukov," Max broke into the tense silence, standing and stretching out the annoying crick in his back, hoping that Millie might massage the ache away again tonight. " Just out of interest, are you planning on staying in London for the foreseeable future?"
"Oh for the next week or so, for sure." His smoothness returned, effectively dismissing Grace. "After that, well I may need to return to St Petersburg for a few days. My wife, she does miss me. And if there is anyone I must avoid upsetting, it is her. My weakness." Max gave a little laugh to indicate that he understood perfectly.
Grace was already at the top of the gangway down to the jetty when Max turned back to Barsukov. "Does the name Nikolai Antonov mean anything to you? She looked round just in time to see a flash of surprise cross Barsukov's features.
"Who?" he recovered quickly.
"Nikolai Antonov," repeated Max.
He appeared to consider the question for a few moments before eventually shaking his head. "No, I don't believe I do. Should I?"
Max met his eyes, letting the silence hang for a few seconds, waiting for any further reaction, his expression blank. Suddenly he raised his hands, causing Barsukov to blink. "Nah, it's just a name from an old file. I wondered if it might be familiar to you, that's all." Grace understood enough of Max's game-playing to know that whoever Antonov was, he was likely to be relevant in some way. "We'll be in touch if we have any further questions."
"Of course. And Mr Carter? Please do assure Georgie that I am eager to assist him in any way I can, he need only call."
-oo-
"Nothing, not a thing," fumed Grace in exasperation.
"Oh I wouldn't say that."
"What do you mean?"
"Come on Grace, he's hardly typical of the criminals we run into every day. But he's too slick to be kosher. And as for all this," Max gestured at the marina behind them, "even with all the property he's supposed to have bought up since arriving in London, how does he pay for this? That boat must have cost a hundred grand. Trust me, he's a front. There's someone else running this show."
"Okay, so if you're right, how do find who that is?"
"Manson. He'll have contacts within Interpol. Didn't think I'd say this but he might just be useful for something other than making your coffee after all."
That last barb stung. She'd planned to ask about Antonov, but decided to let it go and talk to Neil later when Max wasn't around.
-ooOoo-
"David?"
"Yes, Boss?"
"Move the woman to the new location. Sergei will be with you in the morning to send the next message."
"Yes, Boss."
-ooOoo-
A/N Next chapter – nothing but MALLIE!