by Ellis, Tim
‘I’ll see you at the station, Andrew.’ She knew that tonight she would let him do what he wanted with her. She would stand naked at his window and watch the swans paddling on the Serpentine. It was time. She had kept him at arm’s length for too long. Tonight, she would bathe in the warmth of his love.
She took a last puff of her cigarette, flicked it out of the crack above the window, and put the car into gear. At Pont Street she turned right, and hung a right again at the junction into Sloane Street. She followed the traffic to the roundabout at Sloane Square and took the third exit right into King’s Road, which she followed until she reached the Town Hall and the Fire Station where she turned left into Oakley Street. Shortly after crossing the Thames into Battersea via the Albert Bridge, she turned right into Parkgate Road and drove slowly looking left and right until she found St Aloysius Residential Home. She pulled into the car park and left the engine running while she phoned Randall. There was no answer, and she didn’t bother to leave a message.
Letting herself into the care home, which she thought smelled of urine, she wandered about until she found a dark-haired young woman in what looked like a carer’s uniform pushing a trolley with linen on.
Molly positioned herself in front of the trolley. ‘I wonder if you can help me?’
‘Nie rozumiem,’ the young woman responded.
‘I’m sorry? I’m looking for Nellie Myers?’
‘Proszę mówić wolniej.’
Nelka, which was the name on her badge, clearly couldn’t speak any English. Molly guessed she was from Russia or somewhere like that.
‘Hello, who are you?’ a man’s voice asked from behind her.
Molly turned. A skeletal old man with a shock of white hair in a pair of pyjamas and a blue striped dressing gown clutched a walking frame.
‘I’m Detective Inspector Stone from Hammersmith police station, I’d like to see Nellie Myers.’
‘Yes, Nellie’s round here somewhere. It’s no good talking to Nelka, she doesn’t speak a word of English. Do you speak Polish?’
‘No, sorry.’
‘Shame. You can imagine what’s it’s like for us old buggers when we want something, like bloody charades.’ He gave a short laugh. ‘Ah well, keeps us on our toes so to speak.’
Nelka squeezed past with her trolley and disappeared round a corner.
‘You don’t know where Nellie is, do you?’
‘Nellie?’ he bawled at the top his voice.
Soon, Molly heard running footsteps on the parquet flooring and a woman with long dark brown hair, a fringe, and no chin appeared. ‘What have I told you about doing that, Martin?’ she said breathing hard.
‘If Nelka could speak a bloody word of English, I wouldn’t have to.’
‘You don’t need to…’ Just then, the woman noticed Molly. ‘Oh hello, can I help you?’
Molly was fascinated with the woman’s mouth, which appeared to have double the amount of teeth a normal mouth should have had. ‘I’m here to see Nellie Myers.’
‘That’s me, who are you?’
She produced her warrant card.
‘Is it my mum?’
‘No, I’ve just come here from speaking to your mother.’
‘Oh! What did she say about me?’
‘I’m looking for Gabriel?’
‘Good luck with that,’ Nellie said turning away. ‘Where are you going, Martin?’
‘I was going to the television room to watch Countdown, but I’m more interested in what you’re doing now.’
‘I’m not doing anything, Martin. My life is as boring as it ever was. You’d get more stimulation in the television room, off you go now.’
‘If you’re sure I’m not going to miss any juicy details that I can trade for cigarettes.’ He shuffled away with his walking frame.
‘You wouldn’t get a bent old penny for the details of my life, Martin,’ Nellie called after him.
‘Do you know where Gabriel is?’ Molly said.
‘I haven’t seen him in over ten years, and I have no desire to either.’
‘Your mother said that out of all the children, you were the closest to Gabriel?’
‘I don’t want to talk about my private life in the corridor. Follow me to the office, we can talk there.’
Nellie walked along the corridor, past the main door, and into a glass-fronted office. Molly followed her in, shut the door, and sat down.
‘No one was close to Gabriel,’ Nellie said sitting behind a cluttered desk. ‘He was his father’s son. He used to come into my bedroom at night and rape me, is that what my mum means about being close? He did the same with Pearl as well. We were like his harem.’
‘Why didn’t you tell someone?’
‘Like who? You didn’t tell on Gabriel. He threatened to do to us what he did to that dog. Did mum tell you about the dog?’
‘Yes.’
‘I pray every night that I never see Gabriel again. Why are you looking for him?’
‘We are trying to eliminate him from our enquiries.’
‘Enquiries about what?’
‘I’m sorry…’
‘He’s killed someone, hasn’t he?’
‘I can’t…’
‘I knew a long time ago that he was evil. He liked to hurt animals and people. It was only a matter of time before he killed someone. When he was raping me, he used to stare at my face. He wanted to watch while he hurt me.’
‘I’m sorry that I’ve brought back all those awful memories,’ Molly said standing up.
‘I know some people can bury their bad memories, but I’m not one of them. They’re with me all the time. I hope you catch him, and I hope he doesn’t kill anyone else.’
‘Thank you for talking to me, Nellie.’
‘Did I have a choice?’
‘Well, thanks anyway.’
Outside, Molly took a deep breath, she was glad to be out in the fresh air away from the stink of urine and decaying bodies. In a matter of years she knew she would probably be a sack of skin filled with brittle bones, that was if the schizophrenia didn’t claim her first. Another four days before she found out the truth. Dr Lytton had told her not to think about it, but that was like telling a dog not to think about food. One minute she would be involved in her work, the next she was thinking about her father, her mother, the schizophrenia, the people her father had killed. God, she wished it was Friday.
Chapter Forty-Nine
On the way back to the station she called in at a bakery and bought a cheese salad roll, and a box full of assorted cakes for the team. Sometimes she remembered to appreciate them, but it wasn’t often.
She ate the roll in the car, and parked in the Borough Commander’s space hoping that he wasn’t going to return, or she’d get a reprimand. After a cigarette in the freezing cold of the car park, she was in her office by quarter to four staring at her intray, which looked as though she hadn’t touched it for months.
There was no time to do any paperwork, so she went to the toilet, then the kitchen and made herself a coffee, and ambled to the incident room. Nearly everyone was there.
‘Where’s Tony?’ she asked as she put the box of cakes on the table.
‘He’s here,’ Frank said helping himself to a cake. ‘Gone to the toilet.’
Abby was busy plugging in wires from the video recorder to the interactive whiteboard so that they could watch her interview with Lizzie Hansen.
Tony clattered through the door.
‘Hello, Gov,’ he said with a smile. ‘Did you miss me?’
‘Like a dose of the flu.’
‘Mmm cake,’ he said grabbing the last cake. ‘Thanks, Gov.’
‘You’re welcome. I take it we’re watching your interview with Lizzie first, Abby?’
‘That was my idea, Gov,’ Frank said. ‘The rest of us don’t have much of anything.’
‘Well, before I settle down to watch a movie, let’s hear how everyone else got on. Paul, you start?’
Paul wipe
d the cream from his top lip with the back of his hand. ‘I went to see Katherine Hartman née Lennox. She had five children with George: Sage, Harold, Olive, Stuart and Liam. Sage and Olive were married, but are now both separated with children of their own. Harold died in a five-car pile-up on the M25 seven years ago, Stuart died in Iraq three years ago, and Liam immigrated to Canada five years ago.’
‘Was there any mention of abuse?’ Molly asked.
‘Physical and sexual abuse after they were married, with the kids as well, both boys and girls. She also said that Sage was forced to have an abortion at twelve years old after falling pregnant to him.’
‘Tony?’
‘I went to see Bridget Bailey née Connor. She gave George four children, Mary who died as a child, Roger, Jack, and Becky. Roger is serving five years for manslaughter in Wormwood Scrubs after a fight in a bar. Jack has the mental age of a four-year-old after an accident on a construction site, and is being looked after round the clock in a Care Home. Finally, Becky – the black sheep of the family – is a DS in Traffic at Snow Hill. And yes, George abused Bridget and all the kids. I’m beginning to think George was as bad as the killer we’re looking for.’
‘Thanks, Tony. I saw Bessie Myers née Walters, but she married again so her name now is Flitton. She had seven children, two of whom died young. Pearl isn’t married, but she has three children by different men and has no contact with her mother. Gabriel spent his childhood in and out of mental institutions because he couldn’t control his anger. According to Bessie, he’s evil, and she doesn’t know where he is. Add him to the suspect board, Frank.’
Frank stood and wrote Gabriel Myers’ name on the suspect board underneath Malachi Pike and Jacob Hansen.
Molly continued: ‘Nellie is a lesbian and works as a carer in an old people’s home in Battersea. She visits her mother weekly. I went to see her, but she has no idea where Gabriel is. Sam is a milkman in Norwich, married with two children. He doesn’t come back here because the memories give him nightmares. Lastly, Willie is doing fifteen years in the Scrubs for killing another drug dealer.’
‘So, we have three suspects now,’ Lucy said. ‘And they’re all half-brothers?’
‘You think they’re working together, Gov?’ Frank said.
‘What I think, is that it’s not outside the realm of possibility. It would explain how families are murdered when Malachi isn’t in the country.’
‘We’ve got Malachi Pike, Jacob Hansen, and Gabriel Myers, which are all names from the Bible,’ Paul offered. ‘And I’m thinking about the Hebrew letters being the word of God.’
‘Okay, enough speculation,’ Molly said. ‘Frank, what did you and Lucy find out at Angel’s?’
‘Lucy,’ Frank said, ‘you tell them.’
‘I don’t know how anyone can live like that,’ Lucy said pulling a face. ‘Her flat was a stinking hovel. Angel married Trevor Hall in 1998 and had two children by him. He left her in 2003. She’s a heroin addict, has been for seven years. The kids were taken into care six years ago. If there was a person inside the drug-addled woman we saw it left a long time ago. We found out nothing, Gov. When we mentioned Jacob’s name there wasn’t a spark of recognition, her brain is fried.’
‘God,’ Abby said. ‘George Hansen has left a terrible legacy.’
‘Okay, lets see what Lizzie had to say, Abby?’
Abby stood and switched the video recorder on. ‘Tony, can you get the lights.’
A thin emaciated woman appeared on the screen. She was sitting in a high-backed chair next to a hospital bed. The hood of her dressing gown had been pulled up to hide a head sparsely patched with grey hair.
They heard Abby’s disconnected voice. ‘You’re Lizzie Hansen?’
The woman nodded.
‘And you’ve agreed to talk to us about your husband George?’
Lizzie took a drink of water and nodded again.
‘Can you start with how you met George?’
Her voice was barely audible, and Abby had to turn the volume up. ‘…met at a dance in 1975. He was so handsome, swept me off my feet. We were married within six months, but then things started to change. I was already pregnant with Angel, but he didn’t care. He would beat me if I didn’t satisfy him. He was a beast. He wanted to have sex at the front and at the back. Even now, while I’m talking about it, I’m struggling to breathe. I couldn’t stop it, I couldn’t get away, and if I’m being truthful, I didn’t want it to stop. He knew how I felt, that was his hold over me. When he was home, it didn’t matter where I was or what I was doing, if he wanted sex he would just lift my skirt up, pull my knickers down, and satisfy himself. And then when the children came along he had no scruples in using them to satisfy his sexual needs. I don’t think he saw them as his children, they were simply objects to use. Looking back now, I think there was something medically wrong with him. No one needs sex that much. He’d have sex with me, then five minutes later he was going in the children’s bedroom. He made me help him, you know. God, I didn’t know what I was doing. Sex was like a drug. Now, I’m being punished. I’m going to Hell’
Abbey stopped the tape. ‘I’ve been back for a couple of hours, and I remembered what Lizzie said about there being something medically wrong with George, so I looked it up. They call it sexual addiction, it’s similar to a drug addiction or Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, and is classified as a mental illness.’
‘I think I might be a sex addict,’ Tony said.
Paul laughed. ‘Yeah, good one, Tony.’
‘All right boys,’ Molly said. ‘Let’s continue, Abby.’
Abby re-started the recorder.
‘What happened to Jacob?’
Lizzie looked away. ‘The others seemed to accept their fate when George abused them, but not Jacob. He was so angry all the time, and then one day during a game of Monopoly there was an argument over houses on a property, and Jacob stabbed Gary in the heart. He called the police himself, I think he saw it as a way out. After they took him and put him away, we left again.’
‘Have you seen Jacob since he was taken away?’
‘No… God forgive me, I never even went back to visit him. We took Angel and left. George didn’t want any trouble. He had me and he had Angel, that was all he cared about.’
‘Did you know about his other wives and children?’
‘I was glad, it gave us some respite. Besides me, he had three other wives and two boys by other women…’
‘Hang on,’ Lucy said. ‘We only know about the three wives?’
‘Wait,’ Abby said. She rewound the tape back slightly.
‘…He used to tell me about them, it was a secret we shared.’
‘Didn’t you mind? Weren’t you jealous?’
‘Yes, of course, that’s why he did it. It made me want him more.’
‘Do you remember their names?’
‘I remember. The wives were Katherine Lennox, Bridget Connor, and Bessie Walters; and the women were Rachel Weiss and Daisy Summers, but they both died giving birth.’
‘What happened to the children?’
‘I don’t know. George was only interested in the women, he didn’t want children to look after.’
‘So, he abandoned them?’
‘Yes.’
Another voice spoke then. ‘I’m sorry, but you must leave now, Lizzie needs her rest.’
A nurse came into the picture and began helping Lizzie into bed.
‘That’s it,’ Abby said. ‘I had to pack up the video recorder and leave, but I think I got everything I went for.’
‘Yes, good job Abby,’ Frank said.
Molly checked the clock on the wall. It was five thirty-five. ‘Okay, knock it on the head. First thing tomorrow I want Paul and Abby to start tracking down Daisy Summers and her child, and Lucy and Tony can track down Rachel Weiss and her child.’
‘One of them must be Malachi Pike,’ Paul said.
‘Let’s find out, shall we?’ Molly said getting up.
Everyone said goodnight and filed out.
Molly went to her office, collected her bag and coat, and then headed for the car park. She put the bag in the boot of her car and lit up a cigarette to smoke while she walked.
She reached Randall’s flat at one minute past six and banged on his door.
‘Are you in there, Sir?’ she shouted, but heard nothing from inside.
She rang him on her mobile and when he didn’t answer she left a message: ‘You bastard. I’m standing outside your flat like a fucking prostitute again. Ring me when you get this.’
Not knowing what else to do, she walked round to the Pepper Pot café and asked a tearful Kiri if she’d seen him, but she said he’d been gone all day. Although she would liked to have gone home to shower, change her clothes, and prepare herself for staying the night with Andrew, there wasn’t enough time. Instead, she walked back to her office, made a coffee and attacked her intray.
Chapter Fifty
Freddy and Emmy were gone for what seemed like hours, and they probably were. He had no idea what time it was because they’d taken his watch. Nothing in the room seemed to change, except for Tommy who came off lookout and someone else took his place. Randall knew, because Tommy came over and squatted down next to him.
‘Listen mate, no hard feelings. You was carrying that piece, and I puts two and two together. I ain’t never been any good at adding up, so if your story is true and you ain’t come to kill us then I apologise, but if your story ain’t true then fuck you.’
Randall didn’t say anything. He just wanted Freddy and Emmy to come back from their shopping trip with a newspaper, for Charlie to read the truth about him, and then let him go.
Charlie and the others were deep in conversation. He could only catch the odd word, which was not enough to piece anything together. What unnerved him was Philly who was sitting on a wooden box eyeing him when Charlie wasn’t looking, and making obscene gestures. He felt extremely nervous with his shrivelled penis on display.
Then Freddy and Emmy returned with a mountain of plastic shopping bags and handed out people’s orders like early deliveries from Mr and Mrs Santa.
After a while, Charlie came over to him. ‘I’m gonna eat, and while I’m eating I’m gonna read the paper. After that we’ll see.’
