Impurity (DI Gardener 1)

“What are you doing here, Reilly? It’s late.”

Reilly glanced up and saw Briggs in the doorway. He hadn’t heard him approach.

“I could ask you the same question.”

Briggs stepped into the incident room and dropped into one of the chairs. He sighed, removed his glasses, and rubbed his fingers across his eyelids. To Reilly, he appeared done-in: a crumpled suit, his tie hung low across an open collar, glasses that probably hadn’t been cleaned for a week.

“I’m knackered,” said Briggs. “But I can’t settle. I keep thinking about Chris. Where he might be, wondering what I’d be like in Stewart’s shoes. Everything’s going round in my head. It’s all a bloody jumble.”

Reilly sighed. “I know what you mean. Have you never had kids? I didn’t mean to pry, but the comment...”

Reilly noted the softer expression on Briggs’ normally case-hardened features. “No. My wife couldn’t have them. She was involved in an accident when she was about fourteen. Car crash; did a lot of internal damage. I suppose she was lucky to live.” Briggs paused. “Drunken driver. I knew before we were married, but I loved her. Still do, after thirty years.”

“I admire you. It can’t have been easy.”

Briggs smiled. “No, it wasn’t easy. But it’s like anything, you learn to accept. You fill your life with other things, like holidays, cars, big houses. Anything to hide the real pain. We both wanted children. She came from a big family.”

“Did you not think of adoption?”

“A couple of times. It’s not the same, though, is it? No matter what you say, you can’t love the child the same as you’d love your own. Julie always said she wanted to feel the child inside her. There’s no stronger bond than that.”

“There is another way of looking at it. At least by adopting, you could provide a child with a better life.”

“Don’t get me wrong. We thought about it long and hard. But no matter how many times you discuss it, you have to feel it in here.” Briggs pointed to his heart. “And we didn’t. So, it wouldn’t be fair on the child. At the end of the day, it doesn’t stop your emotions from running over when you’re chasing perverts and paedophiles.” Briggs threw his arms in the air. “I mean, what’s the fucking use?”

Reilly had been surprised by Briggs’ emotional outburst. There was, after all, a humane side to the man. “That’s why I’m in here. I want to have another look at the DVDs we seized from Myers’ flat. The boss reckons Summers is far too defensive when we try to link the porn to his film company.”

“You think Summers is making the films? You think Summers is abducting children and running his own little empire of porn; head of his own paedophile ring?”

“That’s about the size of it. Maybe we’re wrong. I don’t know. It’s a hunch. If there’s no connection on the disc, then we’ve lost nothing. But I don’t trust the man. He’s a parasite. When we searched the house, I had the feeling we didn’t see all of it. There’s a life at stake here. I can’t stand by and do nothing. I owe it to the boss to pull my guts out on this. And if I’m right, we might know where Chris is.”

Briggs remained silent for so long, Reilly thought he was never going to speak again.

“You don’t have to watch it,” he said to Briggs. “I’m not watching because I want to. If it means getting Chris back, though, I’ll watch them continuously until I find what I’m looking for. There’s only one more anyway.”

“Okay,” replied Briggs. “Fair comment. I’ll get us a coffee and I’ll join you.”

When Briggs returned, Reilly set the disc playing. He was sick to the stomach at having to endure watching the teenage girls and the torture they were being subjected to.

Reilly paid attention to every minute detail in the background. By the end of the film, though, he had learned nothing.

He checked his watch, disappointed. It was a little after one in the morning. Reilly glanced at Briggs. “Look, I’m sorry I put you through it. I just thought…”

“I know.” Briggs finished the sentence. “You’re a good man, Reilly. I may not like your tactics, but I can’t knock your dedication, either to the job or your friend.”

“More compliments?”

Briggs laughed. “I think we’d better call it a night. Your missus won’t be pleased.”

Reilly sighed in defeat. “No. I don’t suppose she will.”

They were about to leave the room when a noise from the TV attracted their attention.

Reilly had forgotten to switch off the machine. On the screen, the disc loaded the final untitled chapter.

As Reilly watched on, his blood curdled, and his heart missed a beat.

Chapter Sixty-seven