by Martina Cole
Kate laughed. ‘Keep your voice down! Not only have we committed a serious crime, as you well know, we, or more precisely, you, have not only invaded these people’s privacy, we have also cyber-stalked them, and that’s without the fact that we have also broken into government databases. That’s just for starters. And we’ve done it all without a second’s thought.’
Margaret laughed with her and Kate knew that the girl was experiencing the rush of adrenaline that a breakthrough always brought with it. There was nothing on earth to beat it.
‘But remember, Margaret, if anyone finds out what you’ve done, we’re up shit creek. Not so much me, my love, I’m only here as a part-timer these days. You and Annie, on the other hand, have your careers ahead of you. So make sure no one can follow your trail. Or prove that we got all our information on the knock.’
Margaret nodded solemnly, she understood the importance of Kate’s words better than anyone. ‘Listen, Kate, I could hack into the fucking Pentagon and they wouldn’t be able to trace it back to me.’
Lionel was scared. He knew he had gone too far this time, and he also knew that now he had requested his early retirement he was, to all intents and purposes, finished. He had dedicated his life to the police force, had seen it as a platform to bigger and better things. He had learned, very early on, that it could be a lucrative profession if you played your cards right. And he had played his cards well, they had provided him with a lucrative little earner. He had always been willing to bend the law for a good cause, and money was as good a cause as any.
Lionel had never really walked the beat, had never really nabbed a criminal. He had come into the force from Hull University with a second-class degree, and the desire to make something of himself. A natural-born paper pusher, he had always preferred sitting behind a desk. He had moved through the force with lightning speed and although he knew he was not a go-getter as such, he knew his limits; he also knew that men like him had their uses. Desk jockeys as the uniforms called them. Arrogant pricks if you listened to the CID. But, for all that, he was their boss. He was the man in charge. But he had never even read anyone a Miranda; he had never once been on a shout. He had done what he did best; he had sat on his arse and filled out the paperwork. He had seen that the brass above him had been free of everything from drink-driving charges, speeding tickets and, once, he had even made sure a senior officer had not had to answer a charge of gross indecency in a public toilet with a minor. The boy had been all of fourteen, and the gentleman concerned had promptly invited Lionel to his daughter’s twenty-first birthday party. He had been promoted three months later as a thank-you. When a shit job needed doing, he was the man to call on, and Lionel prided himself on his ability to sort out any crisis, no matter how complicated it might seem.
Then one day in walks Kate Burrows and, in a few minutes, she forces him to not only leave his job, but to also do it so quickly that he knew everyone would think it was to avoid a scandal of some kind. After all, he had enjoyed the services of those young girls with not only his senior colleagues, but also most of the local dignitaries.
Now he felt cornered and because of his anger at the unfairness of his situation, he had made another mistake. He had inadvertently given his wife Hayley a serious hammering this time, and Miriam knew the truth of it. Like that fucking skuzzball of a husband of hers, she felt it was her duty to stick her fucking ugly mug into everyone’s lives. Alec had been the same and when he died, it had taken Lionel’s considerable willpower not to laugh his bloody head off. If only Miriam had known the truth about her lovely Alec. Well, there was still time.
Miriam thought that by sitting by his wife’s bed day and night, she was protecting her from him and his anger. Well, if Miriam used that ugly fucking head of hers, she might suss out that he wasn’t fool enough to batter the fucking imbecile he had married while in a public building. He would just bide his time, and beat the crap out of her in the comfort and privacy of his own home. But for all that, Miriam was still sitting there, watching over Hayley like a retarded Rottweiler, and he knew he had to be nice to her until the time when he could take his wife home.
As Miriam stood up, Lionel smiled at her. She didn’t react, she just stood there, her dead eyes looking at him and her heavy body, as always, emitting the odour of her sweat. It was sharp and cloying, and if you stood close enough to her, it seemed to permeate through your skin, you could almost taste it. She was what his father would have referred to as soapy. She was a soap dodger all right, and she clearly didn’t understand the value of a decent deodorant. Even her hair was a greasy mess. Yet she still managed to make herself busy. She still managed to find people to look after. He moved away from her, the smell of her body odour was making him want to gag.
Hayley stared at him balefully from her swollen eyes, and he decided to give up for today, he had had enough of these two to last him a lifetime. Blowing Hayley a kiss, he left the room as fast as possible. As he walked out into the cool night air, he decided to pay Simone a visit. He wouldn’t be able to do it for much longer, not for free anyway, so he might as well make the most of it while he had the chance.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Kate saw Miriam first when she walked into Hayley Dart’s hospital room.
‘Hello, Kate, what a lovely surprise. How are you? Can I get you anything, a coffee, a tea?’
Kate shook her head and said gently, ‘Can I have a quick word with you, Miriam? Only I need your advice about something.’
It seemed almost as if Miriam was about to burst with pride at Kate’s words. ‘You’d like my advice? My advice?’
Kate nodded. She was aware that Hayley Dart was observing everything with wary eyes. Lionel had really done a number on the woman, she looked like she had been in an RTA. Her poor hand, minus some nails, looked so painful and raw that it made Kate shudder. The bastard had broken one arm and then he had destroyed her other arm by breaking the fingers and snapping off her nails. She felt a moment’s queasiness as the sheer horror of the woman’s pain and degradation washed over her. It grieved Kate that this man could bully his wife and, unless she found the nerve to speak up, or fight back, he would get away with it, time and time again.
Lionel had known exactly what he was doing, and she knew he had probably taken great pleasure in it. Kate leaned over the bed and said quietly, ‘Listen, Hayley, you can’t go on like this any more. Let us take a few photos of your injuries and I promise that I’ll personally make sure you are safe. But you have to find the strength to walk away from him once and for all.’
‘Thanks, Kate. I think Hayley needs people to let her know she is not alone. She can’t talk because of her poor jaw and both her arms are destroyed so she can’t even communicate with a pen and paper. I swore to her that I would stay here night and day until she was on the mend, and to make sure he doesn’t use the time alone to torment her.’
Kate narrowed her eyes as she said, ‘How long have you known about all this?’
Miriam shrugged as if she didn’t really know.
‘Have you known this for a while, Miriam?’
Miriam nodded slightly.
‘Why didn’t you tell anyone? We could have helped.’
Miriam sighed then and she said gently, ‘Now, you know better than that, Kate. If she doesn’t want to report him, then that’s her business. We aren’t here to force people into doing what we want, or what we think is right. We’re here to stand by them, even if we don’t think they are making the right choices. I met Hayley a few years ago when she had to drive herself to A&E, dripping blood. Lionel had stabbed her with a kitchen knife, had ripped her arm open. She said she had had an accident and I knew she was lying. I’ve counselled enough battered women in my time to know the truth of a situation like that. So me and her became friends, and Lionel knew that I knew what was going on. But if it’s any consolation, I think she’ll leave him this time. Now he’s taken early retirement, she knows deep down that it will mean it’s open season for him.’<
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Miriam looked at Hayley then and said loudly, ‘You are going to leave him this time, aren’t you?’
Hayley nodded her head, and Kate saw the scope of the damage that Lionel had inflicted on his wife, and the enormity of it hit her. For all of Miriam’s faults, she was here for the woman, standing over her and making sure that Lionel didn’t get the chance to finish off what he had started. Hayley’s jaw had been completely unhinged, and she would never again be able to chew her food properly or pronounce certain words. She would for ever look odd, her face had lost its natural shape and she would be reminded of her husband’s anger every time she looked in a mirror.
‘Hayley, I hope you do leave him. And I hope you will feel better soon, love.’
The words were so trite, so banal, but what else were you supposed to say? The truth? Wow, Hayley, he really did the business on you this time, eh?
Miriam smiled at the woman sadly and led Kate from the room. Outside in the corridor Kate sighed with relief. ‘I need your help badly, Miriam.’
Miriam was thrilled to bits. ‘Anything you need, Kate. I’ll do my best to provide you with it.’
Since Kate had visited her in the hospital, she knew that Miriam now classed her as her number one friend. ‘Come to the canteen, and we’ll get a couple of teas and I’ll explain in more detail what I need from you. Is that OK?’
Kate was aware that Miriam was suddenly looking decidedly nervous and grabbing her by the arm she said mischievously, ‘Cheer up, Miriam, you always look so sad.’
Miriam attempted to smile and Kate saw that she was really trying hard to do what she thought was wanted of her. It was sad to see her like this, and Kate wished for a brief moment that the usual Miriam, the heavy-jawed and defensive Miriam, would resurface once more. She actually preferred her, this coquettish lump of a woman seemed so outlandish and she really didn’t know how to deal with her.
Patrick was looking through the safe in his office. He was looking for some papers that Danny Boy needed to sign, and he also needed to make sure that Kate’s jewellery was all ship-shape and sparkling. He wondered why she had not asked for it, after all, he had bought it for her, it was legally hers. But she had not even mentioned it.
He felt a wave of shame once more as he recalled his pettiness towards Kate. He knew he had a lot to make up for, and he also knew that Kate was not a person who would throw his actions in his face at every available opportunity. Whereas he would do exactly that in a heartbeat; he would happily sling anything, however dirty, he could at the person he was arguing with. It was his nature.
As he opened the leather jewellery box he smiled happily. Inside the box was the proof of his love for her. The diamond earrings he had once given her for her birthday, the gold Rolex she was too frightened to wear in case she lost it. The rings and the bracelets that marked their time together, and Pat realised that these presents, all this proof of his love for her, would still be around when he and Kate were long gone. He had never thought about that before, never wondered what would happen to the diamonds, the emeralds and the sapphires.
He picked up an antique ring that had set him back the national debt, it was a seven-carat diamond surrounded by emeralds. It was over two hundred years old. Some other woman had once worn it with pride, some other woman who was now dead and buried, and yet the ring was still here. He decided he liked the thought of some things being constant, and he swore that if Kate let him back into her life for good he would be as constant as the ring he had bought her all that time ago.
Danny came into the room and Patrick turned to him and said happily, ‘All right, son?’
Danny grimaced. ‘Yes and no, Patrick. We have a problem.’
Patrick was immediately all serious faced and prepared for the worst eventuality. ‘What’s up?’
Danny shook his head in absolute consternation. ‘Terry is in Ireland, as you know. He gets back tomorrow.’
‘What is this, Danny Boy? A fucking news update or have you got something serious to say to me?’
Patrick never ceased to amaze Danny. He had gone from being the jovial, happy patriarch to a morose and dangerous villain in less than three minutes. Danny sighed, he was slightly irritated by Patrick’s quick temper. ‘Simone’s been on the blower. It seems our local friendly chief of plods has gone off his trolley. He’s attacked one of the girls and she’s been taken to hospital. He is refusing to get dressed and leave the premises.’
Patrick shook his head in annoyance. ‘That fucking idiot Lionel is a real pain in the arse. Bring the car round, we’ll have to go and sort it.’
Patrick proceeded to put everything back in the safe and, five minutes later, they were on their way. Patrick was fuming now. Lionel Dart was a has-been, an also-ran, he was on his last knockings as a Filth with any kind of clout. To all intents and purposes, it was now open season as far as Pat was concerned. He had been looking forward to this day for a very long time.
‘What I need from you, Miriam, is anything you can remember about the staff from your days at Brookway House. I understand it was your Alec’s first posting as a social worker, at least that’s what Annie says.’
Miriam nodded, her dead eyes suddenly animated. ‘Oh my, that’s a blast from the past as they say. I was very happy there, we both were. But what has this got to do with anything?’
‘I think there’s a link between the dead girls. They were all, at one time or another, at Brookway House. It seems odd to me that they all came to work in Grantley, and that every one of them ended up being tortured and murdered.’
Miriam was sitting opposite Kate, and her jaw was hanging open with the shock. ‘No, that has to be a coincidence, surely? I mean, you know what these girls are like.’
Kate knew exactly what the girls were like, but this wasn’t about how they acted, it was about how they had all started out at Brookway House, and ended up in Grantley as dead as doornails.
‘You worked there with Alec. Who do you remember?’
Miriam thought for a few minutes before saying seriously, ‘There was an older man there, he was called David Floyd. He was very, very overfamiliar with the girls, I mentioned it to Alec on more than one occasion. He was the team leader as they were called in those days. He was there all the time that we worked there. In fact, he was still there when we left.’
Kate wrote the name down in her notebook. ‘Can you recall anyone who might have been in a position to give the girls information on working the flats in Grantley? Was there anyone you can remember who might have been around the girls who could have met up with them at a later date? I mean, they must have attracted boyfriends. I know it was a place for females only, but I’m sure they would have attracted plenty of interest from the young lads around and about, all those girls together. Surely you must have noticed something, Miriam?’
Miriam just sat there, staring at Kate as if she was unable to comprehend what she was saying to her. It occurred to Kate that Miriam had probably not looked much different then to how she looked now. She was one of those ageless people who seemed to stay exactly the same from eighteen years old onwards. She probably looked old then, and she looked old now. She was not interested in fashion or clothes, she wasn’t bothered about getting a decent cut so her hair looked nice. She didn’t attempt to control her intake of food, she was always eating something, and she was not a person who valued hygiene. Her teeth were her best feature and she obviously looked after them although her breath could be overpowering at close quarters because of her love of garlic. Yet she still managed to do what she could for people she saw in need of help and somehow the people she helped liked her and depended on her. It would never cease to amaze Kate how the world seemed to work.
‘Were you working there when some of the girls were there?’
Miriam smiled. ‘Yes.’
‘Why didn’t you tell us that?’
‘I felt that the girls were entitled to their privacy. I wasn’t to know that they had all spent time there, though
it doesn’t surprise me.’
Kate heard the hardness creeping into Miriam’s voice and she was staring once more. She could do that, she could just sit motionless and stare, it could be quite unnerving.
‘Drink your tea, Miriam, you haven’t touched it.’
Miriam shook her head then and smiled. She was suddenly almost her old self again. ‘I don’t really like the tea here. It’s like the tea at the station house, overly strong and bitter.’
‘So who were the girls in residence when you were at Brookway House?’
Miriam thought for a few seconds before saying dismissively, ‘It’s all closed down now. What does it matter?’
Kate was getting slightly irritated now. She leaned across the table to answer Miriam’s question and it was obvious that she was losing patience fast.
‘It matters a great deal, Miriam. We are in the process of getting all the relevant information about Brookway House, but these things can take time, as I am sure you know. Social Services are always worried they’ll be stuffed with a criminal accusation and the way things are with the care system at the moment, who can blame them? But as you were there for some time, I thought you might be able to help us get a heads-up.’
Miriam shrugged again. Kate could tell she was getting rattled about it for some reason. In fact she was getting the feeling that Miriam knew a lot more than she was letting on about Brookway House.
‘Which girls were there at the same time as you?’
Miriam was staring again. Eventually she said dismissively, ‘To the best of my recollection they were Janie Moore and Danielle Crosby. You must understand, Kate, these girls must be allowed their privacy. They were there because they were not long out of the care system or, in some cases, they had just left prison. You also need to remember that they were all basically transients. No one wanted them, you see, and if you read the files on some of them, you can see why.’
