Free Dead To Me by Cath Staincliffe Page B

something she’d have to ask Gill about – or Andy. As sergeant, he might be more approachable.
    Raleigh got up to show her out. His phone was bleating and she signalled that she could make her own way and left him to his work.
     
    Rachel was still out when the mobile phone company came back to say they had just emailed the data the team were waiting on, so Janet printed off all the details, waded through it and relayed the crucial bits to Gill. Incoming text at half past twelve, from a number not yet known to the inquiry. Outgoing text to that number immediately after. No way of knowing the content of the texts. Outgoing call at twelve fifty-five p.m. to a local landline number. Two incoming calls, the first at thirteen ten from Sean Broughton.
    ‘As he told us, backed up by his phone log,’ said Gill.
    ‘And the second, thirteen fourteen from Denise. Which also fits,’ Janet said. The FLO, true to his word, had got Denise’s mobile charged and then checked the calls she’d made.
    ‘Who’s the landline?’
    Janet shrugged. Gill picked up the office phone and dialled.
    ‘Taxi?’ came the answer. Janet could hear from where she was standing.
    ‘Bingo,’ Gill mouthed. She handed the receiver to Janet so she could get details from the dispatcher and locate the driver who had picked up Lisa.
    When she came off the phone, Gill nodded: ‘Put Kevin out of his misery.’
    Janet looked,
Do I have to
? Kevin still working his way through the directory – T for taxi.
    ‘Be nice,’ Gill warned. ‘What about cell site location?’
    ‘Later today, maybe first thing tomorrow,’ Janet said. ‘Right, I’m off to see a man about a cab.’
    ‘Rachel still out?’ Gill looked at her watch.
    ‘Still with the personal advisor,’ Janet guessed.
    ‘If she’s done, take her with you,’ Gill said.
    Oh, bloody marvellous. Gill was determined to force them together at every opportunity. Janet phoned Rachel: ‘Where are you?’ Hoping she’d be busy.
    ‘On my way back,’ Rachel said, an edge to her voice, as though she thought Janet didn’t trust her.
    ‘Meet me at Speedy Cabs.’
    ‘We got the taxi!’ Rachel suddenly alive and excited.

11
     
    SPEEDY CABS OPERATED out of a railway arch close to the canal in Ardwick. Either side were a welding outfit and a pallets store. Janet wondered if the curved roof caused a headache for the pallets firm, space they paid for and couldn’t use, not ideally suited to the square shape of the stock.
    Rachel was there already having a fag by the railings. ‘Kevin came through?’ She sounded surprised.
    Janet shook her head. ‘’Fraid not. Cell-phone provider.’
    Rachel dropped her cig and ground it out. They crossed the cobbled street to the front of the archway, went in through a steel door that led in turn to the dispatcher’s office and a small rest area where a couple of drivers were having lunch. The telly in the corner was showing a rerun of the latest Manchester derby.
    ‘Ladies,’ said the dispatcher.
    Janet and Rachel showed their warrant cards.
    ‘Kasim will be back any minute,’ he said. Then ‘Yes!’ to the screen as a shot bounced off the crossbar. ‘Up the Blues,’ he said, sniffing out their affiliation. A city of two teams. Sporting rivalry passed down from one generation to the next.
    Rachel shrugged. ‘Whatever.’
    Disappointed, he looked at Janet. ‘Me neither,’ she said. Ade used to follow Oldham Athletic, a suicide mission if ever there was one; went to a few matches when he was younger. Janet never fancied it.
    They heard a car trundle over the cobbles and a cab pulled up in front of the office.
    ‘Kasim,’ the man confirmed.
    ‘Thanks, we’ll talk outside,’ Janet said. More privacy there.
    Kasim was curious, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. He had done that thing with his eyebrows, Janet noticed, lines cut through. Looked as though his hand slipped shaving. She didn’t get it. I’m getting old, she thought. The taxi drivers look younger