Rough Justice Part 39

'A day or two will be fine, thanks.'

'Have you got a case number?'

'It's not a case yet. This is more by way of an investigation,' said Shepherd. 'I'll courier it to you.'

'Okay, but just so you know that the evidence won't be any good in court down the line, there'll be no chain of custody.'

'It won't be evidence, Steve,' promised Shepherd. 'I just need to know who this guy is, if he's in the system or not. If it's any help he's a Bosnian, but now he's got British citizens.h.i.+p.'

'I'll see what I can come up with,' said Renshaw. 'Gotta go. I've got three million quid in fifty-pound notes to fingerprint.'

Shepherd thanked him and ended the call. He rang a local courier company but their phone went unanswered. At the second number he tried he spoke to a woman, who said she would have the package collected before noon. Shepherd wrote Renshaw's name and address on a large manila envelope and put the Ziploc bag inside. He left it on the hall table with his Visa card and went into the kitchen. Katra was now cutting up the potatoes and dropping them into a pan of water. 'I'm doing shepherd's pie for dinner,' she said.

'With real shepherds?'

'No, with...' she began, then realised he was joking. 'You're teasing me.' She stopped cutting the potatoes and looked at him with a worried frown. 'Is everything okay with that man?'

'I think so,' said Shepherd, hoping he sounded more confident than he felt. 'Just make sure you keep the doors and windows locked at night. And set the burglar alarm.'

'Do you think he might do something?' She brushed a lock of hair away from her eyes with the back of her hand.

'People who make threats usually don't carry them out,' he said, and knew that much was true. 'He's just angry, that's all. He wants to blame someone for what his son did and it's easier for him to blame me than it is to blame himself. He knows I know about him now so he'd be really stupid to do anything else.' He looked at his wrist.w.a.tch. 'I'm going for a run,' he said. 'I've left a package and my credit card in the hall. A courier should be coming for it some time this morning.'

He went back upstairs, changed into his running gear and collected his rucksack from the cupboard. He ran for the best part of an hour, hard and fast, and most of the time he thought about Talovic and what he was going to do about him.

It was Thursday when Renshaw got back to Shepherd with the results of the DNA a.n.a.lysis. Shepherd was just getting out of the van in the Paddington Green car park and asked him to hold while he walked over to his bike. The rest of the team followed Fogg inside. Shepherd put the phone to his ear. 'Sorry, Steve, bit hectic at the moment,' he said.

'I know what you mean,' said Renshaw. 'I've been snowed under myself.'

Shepherd looked at his watch. It was just after seven. 'Are you still in the lab?'

'We never close,' said Renshaw. 'Now, that sample you sent me. I got a match through the Europol database.'

'Excellent,' said Shepherd.

'I don't know who told you he's Bosnian but the guy is Imer Lekstakaj. He's an Albanian, wanted for rape and murder.'

'No way,' said Shepherd.

'Is that bad news?' asked Renshaw.

'It's...' Shepherd exhaled deeply. 'It's unbelievable,' he said. Lekstakaj had obviously been allowed into the country without the most basic checks being carried out. Every day Shepherd had phoned home first thing in the morning and last thing at night to check that Katra and Liam were okay, and as nothing untoward had happened he'd started to think that perhaps the threat had pa.s.sed, but clearly Lekstakaj was more than just an angry parent.

'There's no doubt,' said Renshaw. 'Odds are the usual one in eight billion.'

'Can you send me the file?'

'I'd rather not, unless you make an official request. I'd need a SOCA case number.'

'It's not at that stage,' said Shepherd.

'I can give you details over the phone,' said Renshaw. 'He's a nasty piece of work. The girls he raped were under age. One was twelve, the other fifteen. The twelve-year-old was scarred for life. He slashed her face with a box-cutter. When her father found out he confronted Lekstakaj and Lekstakaj shot him. The father lived long enough to tell the Albanian cops what had happened. Lekstakaj went on the run but raped again. This time he killed her afterwards but he didn't use a condom either time so they have his DNA on file. That was back in 1994. The Albanian cops have been after him since then but they don't know where he is now. Have you got a pen?'

Shepherd smiled. 'Just tell me, Steve, my memory's pretty good,' he said.

Shepherd got back to his house in Kilburn just after seven o'clock on Friday evening. It had been a tough week and he was dog tired but he wanted to get back to Hereford so he took a quick shower, gulped down a mug of black coffee and picked up his BMW X3. He was just leaving London when his mobile rang. It was Katra and he took the call on hands-free. 'Dan...' she said, and started crying.

'What? What is it?' asked Shepherd.

'It's Lady,' she said. 'She's dead.'

Shepherd braked to avoid a cyclist, an overweight woman who was wobbling from side to side as she tried to build up speed. 'What happened?' The woman swore at him as he drove by, her face contorted into a snarl.

'The vet says she ate something she shouldn't have, but we didn't see her eating anything, Dan. She just got sick and started foaming at the mouth. We took her to the vet but she died.'

'I'm sorry, Katra. Did the vet say what it was?'

'She said she didn't know but she said she could do an autopsy tomorrow and find out. Do you think we should do that?'

'Sure we have to find out what happened. How's Liam taking it?'

'Oh, Dan, he's so upset. We came back from the vet and he went upstairs to his bedroom. He was crying, I think.'

'Get him for me, Katra, I'll talk to him.'

'He's locked the door,' said Katra. 'He won't open it.'

'Okay, I'll call his mobile. I'm driving back now so I'll be there in a few hours. About midnight, probably. And listen, Katra, I need you to make sure all the doors and windows are locked.'

'It's that man, isn't it? Peter's father?'

'Let's wait until I'm home and we'll talk about it then,' said Shepherd. He ended the call and tapped out Liam's number. The phone rang out but Liam didn't answer. Shepherd called Katra and asked her to go upstairs and tell Liam to answer his phone. He waited two minutes and called again. This time Liam answered. 'Liam, I'm so sorry about what happened,' said Shepherd.

'It was horrible, Dad, she was in so much pain.'

'I'm sorry.'

'She'd eaten something but I didn't give her anything, just a dog treat. She hadn't had her supper because we give her supper when we're eating.'

'We'll get another dog,' said Shepherd. He braked as he approached traffic-lights on red.

'I don't want another dog!' snapped Liam. 'I want Lady!'

Shepherd grimaced. He'd said the wrong thing. 'I know, I know... I'm sorry.'

'She was really hurting, Dad, and there was nothing I could do. She was looking at me like she wanted me to help but I couldn't.' He began to cry.

'Liam, I'm so sorry. I'll wake you up when I get home.'

'I'm okay,' said Liam, tearfully.

'You're not okay,' said Shepherd. 'But locking yourself in your room isn't the right way to go.'

'I just want to be on my own.'

'I understand that,' said Shepherd. 'But Katra's upset, too. She needs your support now. She really loved Lady, you know.'

'I know,' said Liam. He sniffed.

The lights turned green and Shepherd accelerated away. 'Go down and make sure she's all right,' he said. 'I'll see you later.'

'Okay, Dad, I'll take care of her,' said Liam.

Shepherd arrived in Hereford just before midnight. There was no sign of the CRV, and for a moment his heart raced. Then he remembered that Katra had said she would park it in the garage after the damage to the tyre. As he walked up the path, she opened the front door for him. Her face was tearstained and her eyes were red from crying. 'Dan, I'm so sorry,' she said.

'It's not your fault,' said Shepherd, hugging her.

'She was hurting so much,' said Katra. She wiped her nose with the back of her hand. 'I don't know what happened.'

'I'll talk to the vet tomorrow. Is Liam okay?'

'He's sleeping, I think,' she said.

Shepherd thanked her and hurried upstairs. He pushed open the door to Liam's bedroom. As the light from the hallway fell across the bed, Liam opened his eyes. 'Dad,' he said. Shepherd went over to him and sat down beside him. 'What time is it?' asked Liam, rubbing his eyes.

'Late,' said Shepherd. He bent down and kissed his son on the top of the head. He wrinkled his nose. 'When was the last time you washed your hair?'

'Yesterday?'

'Are you sure?'

'Wednesday, maybe.'

'Make sure you use shampoo after the match tomorrow.'

'I don't want to play.'

'You have to,' said Shepherd. 'You're on the team.'

'They can play without me,' he said.

'It'll take your mind off things,' said Shepherd.

Liam sat up. 'I don't want to take my mind off anything,' he said.

'I just meant it's better to be doing something, that's all. If you don't want to play, that's fine, but I don't think you should let the team down.'

'Okay, Dad.'

'Are you okay?'

'What are we going to do about Lady?'

'What do you mean?'

'Do we bury her? Or do we cremate her? Do we go to a church?'

'I'll ask the vet tomorrow,' said Shepherd.

'Can I come?'

'Best not,' said Shepherd. He tucked the quilt around his son and sat with him until he was asleep.

Shepherd woke up at nine o'clock. Liam was still asleep but Katra was in the kitchen. She made him a cup of coffee and an omelette.

'I didn't want to wake Liam, I don't think he slept well last night,' said Shepherd as he sat down with his breakfast.

'What are you going to do?'

'I'll talk to the vet,' said Shepherd.

'I mean about that man.'

'We don't know for sure that it was him,' said Shepherd. 'I want to find out what happened and then I'll know how to handle it.'

'I thought things like this didn't happen in this country.'

'They don't, usually,' said Shepherd. 'But there are bad people all over the world. But let's not jump to conclusions. Let me speak to the vet first.'

He finished his breakfast and drove to the vet's surgery. Susan Heaton worked from home, a pretty, ivy-covered cottage with a garden that had been concreted over to make parking s.p.a.ces for six cars. He pushed open the front door where a young Asian girl in a white coat smiled brightly at him. 'I'm Dan Shepherd, here to see Miss Heaton,' he said.

Before the receptionist could reply, the vet came out of her office. She was in her early thirties, with short blonde hair and pale blue eyes. Like the receptionist, she was wearing a long white coat but she had shapely legs and high heels. She was talking on a mobile phone but she ended the call and smiled sympathetically at Shepherd. 'Mr Shepherd, I'm so sorry about what happened to Lady. She was such a sweet dog.' She put the phone in the pocket of her coat and picked up a clipboard off the reception counter.

'Thank you,' said Shepherd. 'Do you have any idea what happened to her?'

She ushered him into her office. It was bright and airy with french windows looking out over her garden. Her degree was on the wall, along with framed photographs of several dozen cats, dogs and ponies, which Shepherd a.s.sumed were grateful patients. As she sat down, she put the clipboard on her desk. 'There was some partially digested meat in Lady's stomach,' said the vet. 'Hot-dog sausage, I think. The rat poison was inside it.'

'Liam didn't feed Lady yesterday,' said Shepherd. 'He just gave her a dog treat.'

The vet nodded. 'The dog treat was still in her stomach. Mr Shepherd, you do understand what I'm saying, don't you? The poison couldn't have got into the meat accidentally.'

'I understand,' said Shepherd. 'Somebody deliberately poisoned Lady.'

Heaton held up her hands. 'No, I'm not saying that, Mr Shepherd. It could have just been someone with a grudge against dogs. Did Lady go out to the park, or anywhere else?'

'I'm pretty sure she was in the house or the garden at all times,' he said.

'What about walking her on the lead? Did she eat anything, sniff around any rubbish, that sort of thing?'