by Martina Cole
As angry as she was, though, she was very aware of how hard it would have been for him to make the first contact, and she had been batting off his calls for days. Patrick had completely wiped her from his life, had ejected her once and for all from their home. He had to have known she would have come back sooner rather than later. Even though she loved that man, much more than he deserved, she still couldn’t get over the way he had completely blanked her. She had lived in that house for years, she had felt that it was her home as much as it was his. And he had pushed her out, like she counted for nothing.
But that he expected her to welcome him back with open arms, knowing he had slept with a girl who was, in effect, younger than his dead daughter had she lived, having treated her so badly, made her feel hot with shame and anger.
She didn’t want coffee now, she needed a drink. She opened up her desk drawer and took out her half bottle of whisky. Pouring a generous measure into her cup, she gulped it down. She felt the warmth of the burn as it slid down into her chest, then the second burn as it arrived in her belly. She swallowed down another shot of whisky and opened the files once again. She knew them practically off by heart now, she had read them so many times. But she went back to the beginning.
Her phone made a quiet beeping sound. As she opened the text message, she smiled widely. Please come home, Kate. I need you.
She knew how much it would have taken proud Patrick Kelly to send her that message and, even though he had broken her heart, and even though he had taken young Eve into his bed, she wanted him. She still felt the pull of him even after all these years. She picked up the files and left the building.
As she approached the gates, she saw that they were already open, and she drove in. She saw his outline as he stood in the light of the front door. Getting out of the car she felt the sting of tears in her eyes.
Pat walked out of the house towards her, arms outstretched and, pulling her into a tight embrace, he said raggedly, ‘I didn’t think you’d come. I didn’t think you’d ever forgive me.’
She relaxed into his body and he breathed in the familiar scents that were his Kate. Harmony hairspray, Boots moisturiser and Chanel No. 5. Pat felt as if he had died and gone to heaven. She was there, she was in his arms, and he knew that, no matter what he might try to tell himself, no matter how much he tried to convince himself that he didn’t need her, he couldn’t exist without her.
‘I missed you so much, Kate. I missed you so fucking much.’
As they walked into the house together, Pat felt all the tension leave his body. Shutting the huge double doors behind them, he locked them both.
Kate caught her reflection in the large Venetian mirror that was opposite the front door. She knew she looked awful, that she looked every day of her age, and she saw she was crumpled up and grubby from being in the same clothes for over fifteen hours. But it was pointless to start worrying about that now, she could never compete physically with a young woman like Eve Foster, she wouldn’t even try to. What she focused on was that she was here, and Eve wasn’t. She knew that if she thought about it all too much, she would only make herself unhappy.
Kate looked around her. It was all so familiar, and yet it all felt so strange. After all, Eve had been here, she had slept in their bed, she had showered here, and she had eaten here. It was hard for Kate to accept that truth, but she knew she had to get over that obstacle if she wanted to get her life back. Their old life back. Percy Sledge was on the CD player, and as they walked into the kitchen together, Pat looked at her and said happily, ‘Fuck me, Kate, you don’t half look rough, girl.’
Annie was fast asleep when the phone rang and she picked it up groggily saying, ‘What?’
She was tired out, she had also had a few drinks and the combination of the alcohol and the tiredness had sent her into a deep and satisfying sleep. She was not happy about being woken out of it.
‘Who is this?’ The voice was garrulous and high-pitched. Annie was annoyed, it was obviously a nuisance call.
‘Is Kate there?’
Annie yawned, and the noise was loud in the darkness. ‘Who is this?’
‘It’s Miriam.’
Annie was so tired she couldn’t place her for a few moments. ‘What do you want, Miriam? It’s late.’
Miriam didn’t answer for a few seconds, then she said softly, ‘Is Kate there? Only I have a woman here who has been attacked. She won’t go to the police station. But I still think that somebody should talk to her. I think she should report it, or at least have the conversation on record.’
‘Who is it?’
‘I would rather not say. If Kate’s not around, you’ll have to come.’
Annie sighed heavily. She knew she would have to go. Still, she was intrigued, and she wanted to see what had happened. ‘Where are you?’
‘St Saviour’s Hospital. Can I take it you’ll be coming instead of Kate?’
‘Yeah. Give me twenty minutes.’
Annie replaced the receiver and jumped out of bed. As she pulled on her street clothes; scruffy denims, and a dark-green fisherman’s jumper, she wondered where Kate was.
A few minutes later, as she dragged a brush through her hair, she popped her head around Kate’s bedroom door. The room was empty and, assuming that she was probably still at the station, she dialled the number quickly. No answer. She tried her mobile and it was switched off.
Annie pulled on a raincoat and left the house. She was freezing cold and wondering what the fuck she was doing driving around Grantley in the middle of the night.
As she pulled into the hospital, Annie wondered whether Kate was on her way home. Perhaps she’d just missed her at the station. She turned her attention to the job in hand. Miriam was waiting in the light of the ambulance bay. She was hard to miss, she looked like a demented social worker, all flowing clothes and wiry hair. Her fat feet were encased, as always, in her open-toed sandals.
Annie smiled briefly as she walked towards her. ‘Is it a domestic or a working girl?’
Miriam sighed sadly. ‘It’s a domestic, but she’s been beaten very badly, Annie.’
‘Why all the hush-hush? Is she well enough to make a statement?’
Miriam rolled her eyes in annoyance. ‘Why don’t you just come with me, and if you can manage to keep your mouth shut long enough, I’ll explain the situation.’
Annie was shocked by Miriam’s manner. She bustled through the overly bright hospital corridors and into a small ward where she turned around and, putting her finger to her lip, she said quietly, ‘You can’t say anything to anyone about this poor woman or her plight unless she says that you can. Do you understand that?’
Annie was annoyed. She knew the law, after all, she was in the police force. ‘Of course I do.’
As they walked down the ward, Annie saw that there were only four beds. Three were empty and the fourth was by the window. As she approached it, she saw a woman of a heavy build with one arm in a plaster cast.
‘It’s all right, Hayley. It’s only me, Miriam. I’ve brought a friend to see you, Annie Carr.’
As the woman turned her head to look at her, Annie saw that she had her jaw wired up, that the fingers on her good arm were badly broken and missing a couple of nails, and that her face and neck were covered in small cuts. It looked as if she’d gone through the windscreen of a car.
She looked at Miriam for some kind of explanation, of course she wanted to know what had happened. This was clearly not a car accident, it was a beating. But she also knew that battered wives often needed time and space before they were ready to leave the abuser.
‘This is Hayley Dart, Lionel’s wife. I thought that someone should see what he is capable of.’
Annie looked at the woman in the bed, and tried to hide her shock and surprise.
‘This isn’t the first time he’s done something like this, he’s always been a violent man. But the attacks are escalating in their severity. I just wanted someone else to see her, someone else to bear wit
ness to her injuries. I want her to know that when she is ready, there will be a whole network of people she can rely on. I want her to see that she is not alone.’
Annie was open-mouthed with astonishment.
‘He’s going to take early retirement. I hear Kate put the idea into his head. I think it must have prompted this latest attack.’
Annie nodded her head slowly, trying to take it all in. The woman in the bed was once more looking out of the window, and Annie knew that she was ashamed and embarrassed by her predicament. Battered women often believed that they brought the violence on themselves, it was a classic symptom. The bruises made them feel self-conscious and often they ended up colluding with their attacker simply because they were too ashamed to admit what was happening to them.
‘How long has this been going on?’
Miriam shrugged heavily. ‘Years, but this time I felt I needed to bring in an independent witness. He’s shattered her jaw and broken her arm. He bent her fingers back until they snapped and he ripped her nails off. Her ribs are also broken, and she has internal injuries. It was a neighbour who called the ambulance. She won’t press charges, she never does. But he needs to know that other people are aware of what he is doing. He is a bully, and bullies need to be confronted. Bullies need to know they won’t be tolerated.’
Annie nodded in agreement. The door to the room opened and Lionel Dart scurried in. He saw Annie standing by the bed and he stopped. Then he turned around and walked from the room without even uttering a sound. Hayley Dart looked at Annie and there was fear and pain in her eyes.
Annie watched as Miriam grasped the woman’s hand gently, saying softly, ‘I’m sorry, Hayley, but sometimes this is the only thing that works. He will be chary of Annie and Kate knowing his secret. He will be frightened that they will spread it around, and it will make him think twice before he does this again.’
Hayley was crying quietly, with hardly any sound at all, and Annie knew that this woman had cried in silence all her married life. She looked at Miriam as if for the first time, and she wondered at a woman who was so unlovable and yet spent her whole life trying to make other people’s lives that little bit better.
‘How did you know about this, Miriam?’
Miriam shrugged. A nonchalant and expressive shrug. ‘The nurses call me if they have a victim of domestic violence. I come straight here and I advise them of their rights, or I just hold their hands, depending on what they want. I don’t judge them, and I don’t tell them what to do. I just keep them company, try to show them a little kindness. Often, after a violent attack, all the victim needs is a friendly face.
‘Lionel Dart has been getting away with this for years. Well, hopefully, now that he knows you are in on his secret, he might rein himself in a bit. He has been given an easy pass for far too long.’
Annie didn’t answer her, she didn’t know what to say. She couldn’t help wondering whether, if Lionel Dart liked hurting women so much, he was capable of killing them.
Patrick was thrilled to have Kate back. He watched her as she slept beside him and marvelled at her being back in the home they had shared for so long. She was the only woman he really cared about. She was the only woman he could ever trust.
As Kate snored gently beside him he slipped his arm underneath her body and pulled her into his embrace. She felt different after the softness of Eve, and she was like a rail. She was thinner than ever, and he knew she needed feeding up. He felt so content as he lay beside her that he knew, no matter what happened in the future, he would never take her for granted again.
When he closed his eyes to sleep, the landline started ringing. He had to lean over Kate to get to the receiver and as he heard Annie’s strident voice he stifled a small smile before saying loudly, ‘Wake up, Kate, it’s for you.’
‘Never in a million years. He’s a wife-beater, not a serial killer.’ Kate’s voice was dismissive, and Annie was aware that she was not pleased at being dragged out of Patrick’s bed in the middle of the night for a wild goose chase.
Annie still wasn’t convinced.
‘Look, Annie, as soon as I knew he was on the nest at the house where Candy Cane died, I checked him out. He was at dinners with local dignitaries or showing off at masonic dos when the majority of the girls were murdered. But I must admit, I am shocked at what you’ve told me.’
Kate could see that Annie was outraged at Lionel Dart’s behaviour. ‘He’s broken her jaw, her arm. I was really shocked. I mean, he’s a fucking wife-beater, and none of us knew.’
‘Well, Miriam knew. She is deeper than an ocean, Annie, don’t you think?’
Annie nodded. ‘Well, Kate, he’s up for early retirement, but where will that leave his poor wife?’
‘We’ll keep an eye on her and Miriam will monitor the situation, I am sure. If she doesn’t want to press charges, then there’s nothing we can do.’
‘Did you talk to Margaret today?’
Kate shook her head. ‘She’s hacked into another government site, she says it has the records of some of the dead girls’ sojourns in the care system. She is a funny one, she really loves hacking into computers and snooping into other people’s lives. I think she’s fucking brilliant though, don’t you?’
Kate grinned. ‘I mean, I am a computer illiterate, and proud of it. I can do just enough to get me by but, other than that, I’m with Shirley Conran. Life is too short to stuff a mushroom and it’s certainly far too short to spend so much of it hunched over a fucking computer. Still, in this day and age it’s essential to have someone good with computers on the team and I’m glad we’ve got Margaret.’
Annie rolled her eyes at the ceiling and said with puzzlement, ‘Who’s Shirley Conran?’
Kate was too disgusted to answer her. Instead, she said, ‘Where are the files Margaret accessed today? Did she leave them for me?’
Annie walked over to the desk Margaret used for her research. Picking up a bunch of pale buff envelopes she brought them over to where Kate was sitting. Kate was sipping a cup of black coffee and as Annie dropped the files before her, she said on a wide-mouthed yawn, ‘I don’t know whether to go home or stay here. It’s nearly six, so I might as well start on these now, I suppose.’
She opened up each of the envelopes and carefully placed the papers from each of them into neat piles. She scanned them quickly before saying quietly, ‘Jesus wept, she has accessed all the victims’ medical records. Fucking hell, I don’t like the thought of anyone being able to do something like that. Do you? I mean, this really is an infringement of people’s privacy. Well done, Margaret. There might be something in this lot that could help.’
Annie nodded in agreement. ‘She’s bloody good, Kate. I mean, she has accessed every part of their lives and, even though we know it’s wrong, to be honest I can’t help feeling that, given the circumstances, we need everything that we can get on them all.’
Kate was determined to collate and cross-index these poor girls until something somehow gave her a pattern of sorts. Something that she could use to tie them all to a person or a place. Something that gave the girls a common denominator. She was desperate to link the dead girls up in some way, and that was why she was suddenly wide awake and trawling through the files as quickly as she could. It was another angle for her to look at, and it gave her a renewed vigour because she might just find something, however small, that could trigger a breakthrough. Often it wasn’t huge big clues that set you on the right course, it was something simple that, on its own, would have no real significance whatsoever. But when you placed it alongside another little clue it would sometimes take on a completely different significance.
Looking up at Annie she said gaily, ‘By the way, how did you know I was at Patrick’s?’
Annie laughed, her slim shoulders shaking with mirth. ‘Fuck me, Kate, you obviously don’t have much respect for my skills as a policewoman! It was easy. You weren’t here, you weren’t in your own bed, so you had to be with Patrick.’
Ka
te wasn’t amused any more. She didn’t like the thought that she was so transparent, she wondered when she had become so easy to read. It was as if she was seeing her life from someone else’s perspective, and she didn’t like what she was seeing. Did Annie really believe that she only had three places to go? Then she thought about it and she had to admit that there were actually only three places she could, or would, go. Was this what getting older meant? Did you suddenly stop having options because one day you decided that it was easier all round to choose the least demanding one? She knew why she was thinking like this. Ten years ago, she and Patrick would have argued and then they would have made a point of making up with long, slow, deliberate sex. Last night they had both been too tired to have make-up sex and, if the truth be told, the thought had not even crossed their minds. The knowledge rattled her, plus she didn’t like the fact she was so predictable.
‘Am I really that easy to work out?’
Annie raised her perfectly arched eyebrows.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Kate was still smarting from Annie’s comments about her so-called predictability. She was back in her own house, she was not going back permanently to Patrick’s until she felt they were both ready for it. She couldn’t get past the fact that he had basically ordered her out, and she knew that her pride was not only wounded, it still needed a very large bandage. But she consoled herself with the fact that they were at least back on speaking terms. The lines of communication were once again open, as American talk show hosts say.
