A Cut for a Cut (Detective Kate Young)

by Carol Wyer

  The men were having a heated conversation, with large gestures. One of them, bald-headed and narrow-shouldered, jumped to his feet and thumped the table before leaving, phone clasped to his ear. The third occupant moved behind the counter, leaving Farai alone at the table. Kate unbuckled her seatbelt then slipped out of the car, heart thudding.

  A dog barked in the distance, a deep angry bark that ended in a lengthy howl. There were lights on in one of the flats above the shops and a small window ajar, releasing loud, frenzied music, a drumbeat that rat-a-tatted in her chest, faster than her own frantic heartbeat. Five strides saw her across the road and onto the pavement outside the café. Nobody had noticed her approach. Now she had vision on another table inside, with two men at it. She steeled herself and pushed the door open quietly.

  All eyes turned in her direction. The man behind the counter, squat, square-shouldered with dark eyes and a heavy five o’clock shadow, tutted loudly.

  ‘This one of your girls?’ he asked Farai.

  The men in the corner guffawed, sitting back lazily to watch the show. The place was heavy with the aroma of recent cocaine usage.

  ‘That’s very funny,’ said Kate, lifting her ID card and peering over the counter at the filthy fridge and wash basin. A bluebottle buzzed angrily behind a Perspex screen of leftover food before settling on an open container of something unappetising, the colour of cow dung. ‘I think the hygiene boys would love to come and pay you a visit and listen to your jokes. Maybe we could even invite some of the vice squad and make a proper stand-up comedy evening of it.’

  His lip curled. ‘What do you want?’

  ‘A word with him,’ she said, pointing at Farai. ‘Alone.’

  She gestured for the men at the other table to depart. They didn’t move and continued to stare her down.

  ‘Looks like you’ll have to hold your conversation in public,’ said the man behind the counter. He lifted a small espresso-sized cup to his lips and slurped noisily.

  ‘Fair enough. I’ll take Farai to the station and chat to him there.’ She swivelled in the pimp’s direction and he lifted up disproportionately large hands, the size of his head.

  ‘No need for that, Officer. Besides, I got some business to attend to here.’

  ‘I don’t want to discuss what I have to say in front of anyone,’ Kate insisted.

  Farai’s sunken cheeks seemed to implode further. ‘I thought I told you not to bother me again?’

  ‘I didn’t want to, but this concerns a murder investigation and unless we can talk one-to-one now, you’ll have to accompany me back to Stoke.’

  He sat back in his seat, one leg over the other and casually swung his foot. ‘I can’t help you.’

  ‘Then you leave me no option.’

  A smile pulled his lips into a thin line. ‘You scratch my back, and I’ll scratch yours.’

  ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

  ‘I’ll keep quiet about our last meeting if you talk to me here. Or, I can come with you to Stoke where I might let something slip about you handing me a significant amount of money. Somebody might be very interested in why you did that.’

  She curled her fist and stepped towards him. He thought he had her over a barrel and he thought wrong. She lowered her voice.

  ‘You leak one word and I won’t be able to guarantee your safety. I won’t be able to protect you from the person who will send you to prison, nor from those who will ensure you don’t come out.’

  He stopped swinging his foot then guffawed. ‘Tough talk always wins out. Okay, gentlemen. You heard the officer. Best if you leave us alone. Nando, why don’t you go upstairs for five minutes and watch some of that shit you love on telly?’ Farai’s deep voice carried weight and the men rose. With hostile stares in her direction, they walked out.

  The café owner, Nando, hesitated for a moment and only when the door was shut did he speak. ‘Five minutes. No longer.’

  Kate pulled out a plastic chair from under Farai’s table and dropped onto it. It was time to play hardball. ‘I’ll come straight to the point. I need to know who this is.’ She passed over the stills taken from the CCTV footage at Stoke station. Farai’s face grew serious.

  ‘Why’ve you got this picture?’

  ‘You can’t answer a question with a question.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Which one is she? Rosa or Stanka?’

  He glared at her.

  ‘She was in contact with a CIO called Heather Gault.’

  ‘Never heard of her.’

  ‘I think you have. Heather was in communication with a number belonging to a pre-paid mobile phone. It was one of a batch stolen from Manchester Mobiles, and belonged to this girl.’

  His hands tensed but he wouldn’t reply.

  ‘This isn’t how I wanted to do this, but we haven’t got time to faff about. You’re out of your depth, Farai. We both are if we aren’t open with each other, so in order to gain your trust, I’m going to tell you something important, in exchange for an honest answer. Okay?’

  ‘I’m listening.’

  ‘Heather was part of an investigation team looking into something to do with you. She was taken off the case, but managed to track down this girl and talked to her last Friday morning. The following night, Heather was murdered.’

  ‘I have an alibi for Saturday night. I was in the back room of the Wild Cat nightclub. I can call upon several witnesses to confirm that fact, and there’ll be CCTV.’

  He leant back and draped his arm over the back of his chair. The casual stance was betrayed by glittering eyes. Kate continued. ‘I don’t know much about the investigation, only that it involved underage sex workers, but I know who was heading it, and it doesn’t look good for you.’

  ‘I didn’t kill no woman called Heather.’

  ‘Who is this girl?’ She wasn’t leaving until she found out. ‘Is she one of the girls you sent to the Maddox Club in January?’

  A small ring in his left eyebrow glinted as car headlights swept by outside. The vehicle drew to a halt and a door banged shut. A shadow fell across the door. She hadn’t got long left with Farai before more customers came in and he refused to speak to her.

  ‘Farai, she could be in danger.’

  There was shuffling from above them. Nando was on the move. She’d run out of time.

  She’d have to take Farai to the station and drag it out of him and then he said, ‘Rosa. That’s Rosa.’

  ‘Where is she now?’

  ‘I don’t know. Nobody has seen her since Friday morning. She isn’t answering her phone.’

  The door opened and four men entered. Farai shook his head, a gesture Kate interpreted to mean the conversation was over. Rosa’s disappearance was another blow.

  She glanced at the dashboard in dismay. It was a quarter to eight and she’d nothing to show for her venture. The clock was ticking. Their killer could have another victim in his sights or even struck again and she’d wasted time chasing after the CCTV footage because, ultimately, the pay-as-you-go phone had nothing to do with their investigation, and nor did Rosa. She’d been so determined to implicate Dickson and even link him to Heather’s murder, she’d lost sight of the facts. Now, once again focused on the investigation, Kate acknowledged that Heather had been killed by the same person who murdered Laura and attacked Olivia, and that she had wasted valuable hours chasing up an unrelated incident. Worse still, another day had passed and the killer was still on the loose and they hadn’t really narrowed down their suspects.

  Her phone rang and Tilly’s cheerful voice, over the hands-free, lifted Kate’s anxious mood.

  ‘Hi, how’s it going?’

  ‘So-so. I’m on the M6 heading home.’

  ‘I don’t suppose you fancy dropping by, do you? Daniel’s got a playmate staying over and they’re both as high as kites, charging around the place. I could do with some adult company.’

  She could be at her stepsister’s place by eight thirty. ‘Okay. I’ll be half an h
our.’

  ‘Thank you. This is one of those moments when I really appreciate having a sister.’

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Tilly opened the door and flung her arms around Kate, before dragging her into the sitting room and plonking a glass of wine in her hand.

  ‘Daniel!’ she shouted.

  The boy came rushing into the room, his face pink with enthusiasm. ‘Hi, Kate. I’ve got a new friend. He’s called Toby.’

  ‘And what have you both been doing?’ asked Tilly.

  ‘Playing dinosaurs.’ He gave a realistic roar and bared his teeth.

  Tilly rolled her eyes. ‘See what I mean? They’ve been chasing each other around the house for the last hour and aren’t the teeniest bit tired.’

  ‘Do you want to come and see our dinosaur park?’ he asked.

  ‘Poor Auntie Kate has been at work all day and she’s going to have a drink with Mummy first. Haven’t you got something you want to give her though?’

  He sprinted over to a white-painted, oak cupboard and retrieved a bag from inside before returning to Kate with his arm outstretched. ‘I chose it.’

  The bag bore a Sea Life Centre logo.

  She placed her glass on a small table and crouched to meet his gaze, taking the bag from him. ‘Thank you very much. What did you see at the Sea Life Centre?’

  He didn’t need to think. ‘Sharks. Lots and lots of sharks and stingrays and clown fish and penguins.’

  ‘Wow! What was your favourite?’

  ‘The big sharks. You can walk under a tunnel and see them swimming above you.’ He shifted from one stockinged foot to the other. Upstairs, another small voice shouted out his name.

  He waited while she opened the bag and peered inside before pulling out a soft, red, toy starfish. It had a smile as wide as Daniel’s. ‘Oh, it’s lovely!’

  ‘It’s a starfish,’ he said.

  ‘Also called a sea star, and one of the most beautiful animals in the ocean,’ said Tilly. ‘And what did we learn about starfish, Daniel?’

  ‘If they lose an arm, it can grow another,’ he said, his eyes widening at the thought.

  ‘And what else?’

  ‘They bring good luck.’

  Toby called out again and Tilly said, ‘You’d better go see what he wants.’

  ‘Thank you, Daniel. It’s the best present I’ve ever had.’ Kate gave him a hug, relished the warm embrace while it lasted, then smiled as he scampered away.

  Tilly looked after him with fondness. ‘Where do they find their energy? They’ve been on the go since six. It’s nice to see him so happy.’

  ‘You have spoken to him about what’s going on, haven’t you?’

  ‘He’s too young to understand. He’s enjoying the big adventure. And he doesn’t seem to be missing Jordan. He never saw much of him anyway.’ Jordan was a long-haul truck driver who spent most of his time on the road. ‘We could live anywhere in the world and Daniel would be happy as long as he has me and could see Jordan now and again.’ She took a quick sip of her wine. ‘Daniel’s the best thing to come out of our marriage. I love him more than . . . anything.’

  The pride was there, in her voice, in the way she held her head and in the light that crept into her eyes as she thought about him.

  ‘So, how did it go with Chevy?’

  ‘He was okay. Bit too much into his fitness regime though. Takes it all too seriously. Didn’t drink alcohol and avoided all carbs, which is pretty much the exact opposite of me. He did have a super six-pack though.’ She winked.

  ‘Not seeing him again?’

  ‘Nah. I messaged Ryan earlier. I’ll probably fix up something with him.’

  ‘I don’t remember much about him from school,’ Kate said. ‘You never told me you went out with him.’

  ‘I guess I was a little embarrassed to mention it. After all, he wasn’t my usual type. We had a laugh, found out we liked quite a few of the same things – films, music, bands. We snogged and made out on the green a couple of times, but I wasn’t really into him in that way.’ The green had been the nickname given to an area on the school playing fields, frequented by couples or smokers.

  ‘It only lasted a couple of weeks. I broke up with him and started seeing one of his friends, Ashar. And Ashar dumped me soon afterwards. Looking back, I guess I was always searching for love, or at least some sort of affection.’

  A memory rushed to the forefront, bringing with it the envious emotions Kate had experienced at the time, and for a split second, she saw herself passing the school lockers in the corridor where Tilly stood, surrounded by good-looking boys, vying for her attention. While Kate was ignored, Tilly enjoyed popularity with the opposite sex, making it all the more difficult for her to accept Tilly into her life. She blinked back the memory, turning her full attention to the conversation.

  ‘That was before I was attacked.’ As she lifted her glass to take another swig, her hand began to tremble. The trembling intensified, slopping the wine and she swore. She put the glass down firmly and clamped her hands between her thighs, chewing at her bottom lip.

  ‘Hey, it’s okay. It’s in the past.’ The sudden realisation that Tilly was still deeply affected by what had happened to her frustrated Kate. That her stepsister was still suffering all these years later was wrong. Had Tilly received better support and/or more counselling immediately afterwards, she wouldn’t be in this state. Her annoyance was directed at her father and Ellen, who ought to have done more.

  Tilly’s sad tone yanked her from her reflections. ‘It happened in the past but I haven’t left it there. It’s haunted me all my life. Not only the memory of what happened, but the horrendous, sinking feeling that I deserved it, that it was repayment for how I behaved and how I treated boys back then, flirting with them, teasing them and encouraging them, knowing I was desired.’ Her eyes filled. ‘You know, there were days, weeks even, when I wouldn’t let Jordan near me? I’d push him away or scream at him, I wouldn’t even let him hold me, all because I felt so disgusted with myself, never him . . . me. He said he understood, but as time went by, he understood less and less. He treated it as if it were an illness and believed I’d eventually be cured. He was wrong. I can be fine for ages, then something will trigger a memory and my body is flooded with fear and loathing and I retreat into myself. I can’t control it. It’s little wonder he found another woman.’

  ‘Oh, Tilly! I had no idea this had gone on for so long.’

  ‘How could you? Anyway, apparently, it’s normal to have a psychological reaction brought on by returning to where the attack took place. Hence the shaking hands. I spoke to my therapist about it and she warned me I’d probably get overwhelmed from time to time while I was here.’

  ‘You have a therapist?’

  Tilly brushed an invisible speck of dust from her blue top. ‘Yes, I’ve been seeing her on and off for years. I’m pretty mixed up, Kate. Not just because of what happened at Bramshall Park, either. I was carrying a shitload of guilt about stealing Jordan away from you. I had all sorts of . . . issues, which took a lot of figuring out. More recently, there’ve been the problems with Jordan . . . yadda. It was her idea for me to revisit all the old haunts, exorcise the demons and learn to forgive myself. I have to go through this process if I want to remain here and, Kate, I do. Australia was somewhere I escaped to, and running away wasn’t the long-term answer. My real home is here in the UK where I can start afresh. I want Daniel to grow up here too and get to know you.’

  She shifted her light weight and sat cross-legged. Painted toenails, like shimmering shells, caught the light of the free-standing lamp behind the settee.

  ‘You could settle anywhere in the country. You don’t have to return to this particular region.’

  Tilly stared over her stepsister’s shoulder at the drawn curtains covered in gold and silver circles. ‘I do. Facing up to it is the only way I’ll be able to heal and, besides, I want to be near you.’

  ‘Why didn’t you mention any of this b
efore to me?’

  ‘You were dealing with losing Chris. I couldn’t add to your burden. You rescued me once before. I thought you’d worry that if I dragged up these memories, I’d return to that dark place.’

  ‘No, Tilly. I’d have backed you up every step of the way. You only had to tell me.’

  Tilly hung her head. ‘This is something I have to handle myself.’

  ‘You don’t. I can come to the park with you, talk things through, help you see it wasn’t your fault.’

  ‘Thank you, but no. I’ll get through this – alone.’

  Tilly lifted the wine glass again and shook her head before drinking. Kate was glued to her pale face, the shining eyes. Her stepsister looked so frail and doll-like, small hands cupping the glass, and the urge to hold her and protect her burned in Kate’s chest.

  ‘You’ve got this, Tilly. I believe you’re strong enough to get through it. And, I’m here for you.’

  ‘You have no idea how happy that makes me.’ Her face became serious again. ‘And, just for the record, although I’ve been out with a couple of guys, I’ve no intentions of getting serious with any of them. It’s a morale-boost. Part of my therapy, if you like. I told both of them I was married. There was no point in stringing them along. It was nice to have some male attention and feel no pressure.’

  ‘I’m not concerned about you getting involved with anyone. The case we’re investigating has highlighted the need for us all to be vigilant. A couple of women were attacked and murdered, and a third is in hospital. I only wanted to remind you to take care when you’re out and about. Not only when you’re seeing somebody you don’t really know; when you’re going about your business, walking to and from the shops, using public transport. Try not to be alone. Stick to crowds. I don’t mean to scare you, but I do want you to exercise extra caution.’

  ‘Well, thanks to Emma, I could put up a good fight and probably manage to drop kick an assailant.’ The smile accentuated tiny creases around her eyes, but the sparkle was back in them. Kate didn’t want to lecture further. She’d made her point.