The Innocent Ones

by The Innocent Ones (retail) (epub)

  Oggy turned quickly, ready to get up, but Dan shook his head.

  ‘This is my turn.’

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  Doreen Green walked briskly along the road as she left the shop. She was wearing a uniform, of sorts: a black polo shirt and trousers, a logo on her chest.

  Jayne had been into the shop once, to check the name tags, and she knew she wouldn’t have to wait long. The shop closed at six, so all Jayne had to do was be patient. Doreen headed out just after six.

  Jayne fell in alongside her. ‘Doreen Green?’

  She jumped, startled, before slowing and saying, her tone wary, ‘Why do you want to know?’

  ‘I’m an investigator working for a law firm. Our client has been arrested for murder, and we think the Walker family might be connected in some way. I understand you knew Leoni.’

  Jayne didn’t know if that made any sense, but she guessed that Leoni’s name would get a reaction.

  She was right.

  Doreen stopped. Her expression turned from wary to hostile. ‘I won’t have her name spoken to me. Not ever.’

  ‘Tell me why.’

  ‘I don’t want to talk about it.’

  Jayne pointed down the street, to where she hoped Doreen lived. ‘Give me until we get to your house for you to tell me your story. I’ll leave you alone after that.’

  Doreen looked in the direction she’d been heading, before nodding, her jaw clenched. ‘All right, until then.’

  They set off walking together. ‘I might as well get straight to the point,’ Jayne said. ‘What do you know about Leoni Walker?’

  Doreen ground her teeth and increased her pace slightly. ‘She killed my son, that’s what I know.’

  ‘How? I don’t understand.’

  ‘I think you do, or else you wouldn’t be talking to me, but if you want me to say the words, I will. That little bitch talked him into hanging himself. Pushed and pushed until he gave in, as if he was just sport.’

  ‘That’s a crime, isn’t it, to encourage someone to kill themselves?’

  ‘I thought the same, but I was told that she hadn’t gone far enough, that it was just two tortured teenagers exchanging messages of support.’ Her expression darkened. ‘Tortured? What the hell were they talking about? He was bullied. All the kids made his life a misery. I tried to comfort him, but have you any idea what it’s like to see your baby cry every night because he’s been picked on, belittled, and you can’t do anything to protect him. It used to break me every night. And then he met Leoni.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘Just a girl at school. Quiet, withdrawn. She was always on the edge of things. A spectator, not a participant, that’s what I always thought. An outsider, just like David.’

  ‘Did he like her?’

  ‘Of course, because she was the one person who treated him as an equal. She listened to what he had to say, became the person he trusted. That’s how it works. Don’t you get it? She was worse than all the bullies because he couldn’t spot her coming. She was setting a trap and he was too blinded by the idea that, for once in his life, someone saw how special he was.’

  They reached Doreen’s house, and both stood at the gate, a small wooden one between a high privet hedge.

  Doreen’s eyes narrowed. ‘Do you think she had anything to do with your case?’

  ‘I don’t know, honestly. Her father’s case might be connected to ours, and I wanted to speak to her so I could find out whether she thought her father was guilty.’

  ‘Her father’s case? What do you mean?’

  ‘Her father is Rodney Walker. He murdered two children over twenty years ago.’

  ‘He’s a murderer?’ She looked down at the floor as she thought about that. ‘That explains a lot. She told me he’d died, which was why she had to move to here, to live with that waste of a mother. She comes into the shop sometimes, because we sell this really cheap vodka. She always makes out like she’s going to a party, or there’s a special occasion, but you don’t get to look like she does from occasional drinking. But her father’s a murderer? It must be in her genes.’ Doreen had softened towards Jayne. ‘I haven’t got much time, because I’ve got to cook and we’re going to the social club later, but come in, if you want.’

  Jayne followed her as they went inside. The house was quiet, seemed empty somehow. No pets, no noise.

  Doreen put her keys down and said, ‘Do you want to see the messages she sent?’

  ‘You have his phone?’

  ‘No, but they were used in the inquest, so I got a copy from my lawyer. Wait there.’

  She disappeared upstairs as Jayne took a seat. She’d been on the estate for just a couple of hours, and all she’d encountered was unhappiness. She longed to be somewhere else, just for some brightness.

  As she thought about that, she realised that where she wanted to be was Highford, with Dan. Away from lying police officers and estates with sad histories. She wanted wine and good company, something familiar. Something fun.

  Her thoughts were interrupted by Doreen’s footsteps on the stairs; she breezed into the room carrying some papers. ‘I had to print them off, sorry,’ and she handed them over.

  Jayne read, her eyes widening.

  ‘These are all in the week leading up to when he died,’ Doreen said. ‘You can see her increasing the pressure.’

  Jayne could see what she meant.

  They started innocently enough, with Leoni asking how David was feeling, but then there was a sudden tone shift.

  Your parents know how you feel, but they know they’ve lost you. They don’t want you to know but they are powerless to stop you. They accept it as inevitable.

  And then, thirty minutes later:

  Your mum found out you were looking at suicide sites but she didn’t say anything. You’ve hit that point, and they know you’ve hit that point. They’re preparing themselves for it.

  Jayne looked up to Doreen, who held out her hands as if to say keep reading, tears in her eyes.

  She did.

  David had messaged back that he couldn’t do it to his parents, his mother especially, because she had always been there for him.

  Leoni’s reply was callous.

  Everyone will be sad for a while, but they will get over it and move on. They won’t be depressed. They know how sad you are and they know you want to do this, and I think they will understand and accept it. It will ease their pain, knowing how sad life makes you feel, and they will always carry you in their heart.

  David replied that he was touched by what she’d said.

  Leoni carried on: They will move on because they know that you’d want that. They know you wouldn’t want them to be sad or angry or feeling guilty. They know you’d want them to be happy, so they’ll try to do that, for you. You have nothing to feel bad about.

  Jayne put the papers down, most of them still unread, but she knew she’d seen enough. ‘She’s encouraging him, egging him on. What did she tell the inquest?’

  ‘She said it was just talk, that they often spoke about it, like a game, how they were teenagers who were on the outside and obsessed with death. But they get worse. She told him how to do it, and even was on the phone to him when he died. Can you believe that?’

  Doreen started to cry, but then waved her hands in apology. ‘I promised myself not to get upset ever again, because I wondered if that’s what she liked, seeing the effect. David died thinking that I wouldn’t be sad, which is stupid; but if that’s his dying wish, I’ll honour it, because he’s my son. Awkward, different, too sensitive for this world, but still my son.’

  Jayne felt a lump in her throat and her eyes moistened. ‘Thank you for sharing it with me. Can I keep these?’ She held up the papers.

  Doreen nodded, sniffling. ‘I’ve got them on my computer and saved just about everywhere. Promise me one thing though.’

  ‘Go on.’

  ‘Make her pay. If you can in some way, whatever way, make her feel her own pain. She destroyed
David. She destroyed his father. She destroyed me. I want it to be my turn.’

  ‘I can’t promise anything.’

  ‘I know you can’t. But if the chance comes, don’t miss it.’

  Jayne smiled. ‘I think I can promise that much.’

  Chapter Fifty

  Oggy scrambled backwards.

  Dan moved towards him, ready to strike, but he was uncoordinated, the drink making him clumsy.

  Oggy was able to get to his feet and spread his arms out. ‘What the fuck?’

  ‘It was you. You did this.’ Dan jabbed his finger towards his face. ‘And my office.’

  Oggy stepped towards him, his shock giving way to anger. He slapped his hands against his chest. ‘Yeah, the police came round, and guess what? No evidence, bruv, so what the fuck are you doing in my house?’

  ‘Evening the score, bruv,’ Dan said, spitting out the word bruv.

  Oggy laughed, loud and sarcastic. ‘You? Mr Shirt and Tie?’ He switched off the laugh and stepped closer. ‘You brought the police to my house. For that, I’m going to do you.’

  A female voice from the kitchen said, ‘Don’t Oggy, not in here.’

  Dan glanced over and saw frightened eyes peering round the edge of the kitchen door jamb, a shock of blonde hair hanging down.

  Oggy cocked his head. ‘Maybe she’s right, because you know what, yeah, I pity you.’ He looked Dan up and down. ‘I heard about your office, so you’re having a bad day. Maybe I cut you some slack, just for today.’

  He pushed Dan in the chest, and he tried to swat it away, but Oggy pushed Dan again, harder, making him stumble backwards.

  ‘I’ll give you one chance,’ Oggy said. ‘Like my lady said, just go. If you don’t, whatever happens next is down to you.’ He grinned. ‘You’re the fancy lawyer, so tell me this. You’re a trespasser here, so I can do what I want to protect my home, yeah? Have I got it right, that whatever I do to you will be your fault for bursting in?’ He bent down close to a chair, and when he straightened again, he was holding a baseball bat. ‘Don’t mind the sporting equipment.’ He jabbed Dan in the chest with it. ‘Just never got round to buying any balls, but that doesn’t mean I can’t get a bit of practice in here.’

  Oggy raised it over his shoulder, like a hitter waiting for a pitch.

  Dan looked at Oggy, and then to his girlfriend, still cowering in the kitchen.

  ‘Last chance, lawyer-man.’

  Dan turned and rushed for the door, needing the fresh air. He didn’t look back and started to run when he got outside.

  He made it as far as the alleyway before he threw up, one hand against the wall, retching, the adrenaline rush and the pressure of the day getting to him.

  The wall was cool as he pressed his forehead against it. He turned his head to look back towards Oggy’s house. He was standing by his gate, the bat swinging loosely in his grip.

  How had he got to this point? It had taken just a few beers and a bad day for him to turn into the sort of person who bursts into houses, looking for a fight.

  Dan pushed himself away and stumbled towards the main road. He needed to get home.

  The walk to his apartment would normally take less than fifteen minutes from Oggy’s house, just down the long slope towards the canal and over the railway line, but his walk wasn’t normal. He swerved and stumbled, rested against walls sometimes, groaned and doubled over. It took him three times as long, stopping at one point to stare at the town, nestled in its valley. Perhaps Jayne had been right and there was a bigger world out there to be found.

  As he looked, his attention was drawn to the sun that shone over the motorway, a shaft of light that peered through the clouds and illuminated the road away from Highford. Was it a sign? He laughed as he gave a thumbs-up gesture to the clouds. The big man was giving him signs. He should heed them.

  Eventually, he stumbled along the cobbles in the yard outside his apartment building. Nearly home. He had wine in the fridge, as always. His apartment was his refuge, and his solace was in the bottle. He was going to chase oblivion and worry about the world when he woke up.

  Chapter Fifty-One

  Jayne let herself into Dan’s apartment, using the keys he’d loaned her, just in case he was called out to the police station. She’d rung the door buzzer so that she wouldn’t arrive unexpectedly, but there’d been no answer. At least it gave her the rest of the evening to go over the notes Doreen had given her.

  As she went into the living room, she stopped, shocked.

  Dan was lying on the sofa, his mouth open, his breathing heavy. There was a bottle of wine next to him, still half of it left.

  That wasn’t what shocked her though. It was Dan’s face. It was bruised, worse than her own.

  ‘Dan? You all right?’

  He didn’t budge, so she nudged his shoulder and said louder, ‘Dan?’

  He groaned as he moved. He tried to raise himself up but instead put his head back and smacked his lips. ‘What time is it?’

  ‘Nearly nine. How are you like this? All beaten up and drunk.’

  He opened one eye and rubbed his face. As his eyes focused, he sat up. ‘This is only the half of it.’

  ‘Wait there,’ and she went to get him a glass of water.

  He gulped it down and took a few deep breaths before taking in Jayne. As he did so, he said, ‘What the hell?’

  ‘I wasn’t lying. That was then. These will fade and we’ve got work to do.’

  He put his head back. ‘Don’t bother.’

  ‘I don’t understand.’

  ‘It’s over. All of it. Some bastard burnt my office down. The same bastard who did this to me. I’m done.’

  Jayne put her hand to her mouth before kneeling on the floor in front of him. ‘Burnt down? How? I mean, why?’

  ‘It’s just a shell now. Whatever we were doing, we upset someone, and I’ve got the message loud and clear.’

  ‘Oh no, you haven’t, Dan Grant. You’re better than this.’

  ‘Jayne, don’t you get it? I’ve nothing left.’ He reached down for the wine. ‘Anaesthetic?’

  She took it from him. ‘You’ve had enough.’

  ‘I thought you liked annihilation.’

  ‘I do, but that’s me. This isn’t you. Damn you, Dan, you’re the sensible one. I’m the one who does stupid stuff.’ She went to the kitchen area and got herself a glass. ‘I’ll help you get rid of it, if it will stop you being like this.’ As she filled her glass, she said, ‘Where’s all the material for Nick Connor’s case?’

  He waved his hand towards the corner. ‘Over there.’

  ‘Good, so you can still work on it.’ He went as if to say something, but she held up her hand. ‘I don’t want to hear you complain. The trial starts on Monday and the judge is expecting you to be there, ready and eager. If you want to say that you’re not ready because you spent the weekend getting drunk and feeling sorry for yourself, go ahead, but how do you think that will go down?’

  ‘Should I care? Really?’

  ‘You’ve said that you always wanted to be a criminal lawyer, and look, that’s what you are. You’re not fit for anything else, and if you don’t turn up ready on Monday morning, the judge might report you to whoever people like you get reported to, so stop it with the self-pity.’

  He sat back. ‘This isn’t how it’s supposed to be. I’m the one who keeps you from ruining your life. I’m the one in control.’

  ‘It’s my turn.’

  ‘And I know you’re right. Tell me then, what’s got you so excited?’

  She grinned. ‘That’s better. That’s the Dan Grant I know, and I think I’ve worked out what Mark Roberts discovered that brought him to Highford. He was going to write about Rodney’s daughter, Leoni.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘When I was in Brampton, everyone said he was writing about Rodney being innocent, but then he followed the same trail I did, and he’ll have found out the same things I did, which included that Leoni moved here, to Highford.
Dan, he was going for Leoni.’

  ‘For his daughter’s perspective?’

  ‘No, that’s an interview. It could be done by phone or email. He was staying here though, which means he was doing more than that. I think when he learned about Leoni, he changed tack and decided to write about how murder runs in the family. Can you imagine what a great book that would be?’

  Dan drained his water and went to the sink for a refill.

  He took another long drink before saying, ‘I’m sorry, but I’m just not getting it. Murder? What are you talking about?’

  Jayne reached into her bag and pulled out a bundle of papers. ‘When she was fifteen, Leoni talked a vulnerable boy into hanging himself.’

  Dan put his glass down. ‘That’s interesting. It’s a crime, but it isn’t murder though.’

  ‘The police or the prosecutors didn’t think there was enough evidence of any crime being committed.’

  ‘How could Mark write about murder running in the family then, if there’s no murder?’

  ‘Him wanting to write about it doesn’t mean that he was getting it all correct. This is research he was doing, not the final draft. No one’s found any book he’d finished.’

  ‘His laptop was taken, remember.’

  ‘Wait until you see the messages then. They’re not pleasant reading. Here, look.’ She passed over a sheet of paper where she’d underlined something.

  Dan squinted as he read, his eyes not yet focusing properly.

  Always smile but you’ve got to do it. You’ve got everything you need. Today is the day. It’s now or never.

  She passed over another sheet. ‘And then this one, because he’d started to back out, so she came back with, “You’re not going to do it then? All of that was for nothing? I’m confused. You were so ready for it”.’ She held out her hands. ‘Don’t you see? She pushes and pushes and he tries to back out each time, but then she complains how he’s letting her down. Here, look,’ and she passed over another piece of paper.