Hush Hush

by Mel Sherratt

  Across the main road, a crowd was already gathering in front of a row of terraced properties. As traffic zoomed by, three dogs sat patiently at their owners’ feet, their morning outings either interrupted or lengthened. Two residents stood in their doorways holding mugs, chatting to themselves. Grace could almost hear them saying, ‘Things like this don’t happen on our doorstep.’ It was the one thing she heard all the time, as if no one was allowed to bring ill repute to their part of the neighbourhood.

  Her heels clicked on the pavement as she walked in silence with Nick and Perry towards the entrance gates. The crime scene had been cordoned off with police tape; all around them people worked. A police constable stood guarding the scene, writing down the names of people entering, checking IDs and pointing out where to go. There were several uniformed officers taking notes, and she saw one directing the traffic as it struggled to get past the row of police vehicles parked half on and off the kerb.

  Ahead of them, she could see a small car with the logo of the local newspaper splashed across its side and wondered what their staff were like to work with. She’d prided herself in getting on well with the local newspaper’s press team in Salford.

  She, Nick and Perry each flashed their warrant cards. The crime scene tape was lifted and they dipped underneath it. They popped on white paper suits, latex gloves and covers over their footwear. Even though she was slim and toned, with a six-pack hidden underneath her shirt, the suit always made Grace feel as shapely as a hastily rolled snowman.

  She tied back her long dark hair with a covered elastic band and placed a mask around her neck in readiness. Once she had it on, it would hide lips that had almost forgotten how to smile widely, but her eyes would still be seen. Grace knew you could tell so much by looking in people’s eyes. Her own were brown and large, with long lashes that she accentuated with mascara and sculptured eyebrows. They were her best feature – when she was happy. For now, they were skittish, glancing around, trying to take everything in.

  As Nick went off to speak to a uniformed officer, Grace took a deep breath, held her head high and walked forward. A white tent had been erected around the spot where the body lay. Forensic officers already in situ were suited and booted too.

  ‘Do you get a lot of acid attacks in Stoke?’ Grace asked Perry as they walked.

  ‘Not many at all. I think the last one was some time last year.’

  ‘And someone from the gym called this in, you say?’

  Perry nodded his head in the direction of a man in his early twenties wearing a red tracksuit at the far end of the car park. He was giving details to a police constable, talking energetically and waving his hands.

  ‘Trent Gibson. He was the first on shift. The gym opens at seven and he found the body in the car park about ten minutes before.’ Perry pointed to a black BMW where another forensic officer was going over it. ‘That’s Parker’s car. Not sure why that wasn’t burnt out to hide evidence. Doesn’t make sense.’

  ‘Well, it all seems to have been done for show, rather than someone trying to cover it up.’ Grace turned back from checking out Gibson. ‘I know we can’t confirm the body until we have positive ID, but maybe our suspect thought it would prove who our victim was a little quicker?’

  They reached the entrance to the tent and, after flicking the mask on, Grace stepped inside. She still put a hand to her mouth, trying to stop her instant gag reflex as her eyes fell on the seared face and hands of their victim. He was wearing gym wear, shorts and a short-sleeved T-shirt due to the weather being unseasonably warm. Splashes of accelerant had burnt holes in the material.

  There were several people dotted around the crime scene. A forensic photographer was clicking away next to a man hunched over the body. His stooped position meant Grace couldn’t see his frame, but she guessed him to be tall, perhaps early forties. He pushed up his glasses and smiled at her.

  ‘Dave Barnett. Senior CSI, as I’m known as now since a nifty title change.’

  ‘Grace Allendale.’ She smiled back, even though he wouldn’t be able to see it behind her mask. ‘DS.’

  ‘Yes, I know. Big boots to fill, but nice to meet you.’

  ‘Do you have an approximate time of death yet?’ Grace stooped down, repulsed but fascinated by the body at the same time. Even in her line of work, it never failed to amaze her what one human being was capable of doing to another.

  ‘I’d say he died between ten p.m. and midnight last night. His face is a mess, but he has some quite distinctive tattoos on his biceps. He has recent dates and names of two people. Caleb and Mia.’ Dave pointed at the body.

  Perry gagged behind his mask and Grace hid a smirk. She already liked Dave Barnett.

  ‘I’m not certain of cause of death yet, although it won’t be because of the obvious.’ Dave pointed to the body. ‘But with the single stab wound to the chest as well, it looks like someone wanted to make sure he was dead.’

  Having left the CSIs to do their job, Grace removed her mask and suit outside the tent. As she did so, she spotted a man waving for their attention. A leather satchel large enough to hold files or a laptop hung over his shoulder.

  ‘Ah, come and meet Simon. Local press.’ Perry placed the last of his protective gear into an evidence bag. ‘What are you loitering round for?’ he asked once he and Grace drew level with him.

  ‘I wanted to know if you have anything for me?’ the man responded, running his hand through blond, short, choppy hair as he caught Grace’s eye. Close up, he reminded her of Callum Best, the celebrity. A cheeky-chappy sort who wouldn’t look out of place if he came out with rhyming cockney slang or did a jig around a chimney up on a roof. He was dressed in a short-sleeved shirt with a navy tie that matched the colour of his trousers.

  Perry shook his head. ‘Nothing yet.’ He looked at Grace. ‘This is the legendary Simon Cole, senior crime reporter for the Stoke News.’

  Simon laughed as he offered his hand to her and she shook it. ‘Pleased to meet you.’

  ‘Likewise.’

  ‘Can you confirm it’s Josh Parker?’ he asked, looking at them both in turn.

  ‘Where did you get that name from?’ Perry narrowed his eyes.

  ‘It’s the word on da street.’ Simon put on a voice and grinned. ‘Is it true? Can you tell me?’

  Grace shook her head.

  ‘Can you confirm it’s murder then?’ Simon looked at her with pleading eyes.

  ‘We’re looking into all possibilities at the moment,’ Grace replied.

  Perry smirked.

  ‘So you have nothing for me?’ Simon glanced at Perry.

  ‘No,’ Perry said. ‘You’ll be the first to know when we do, though.’

  Simon sighed. ‘I suppose I’ll go and talk to the public while I wait.’

  Grace could see he was reluctant to leave. She guessed his reporter’s nose was twitching, but his manner was warm, in contrast to that of a few of the journalists she’d dealt with over the years.

  ‘How’s everything going with Natalie?’ Perry asked Simon. ‘Things still bitter?’

  ‘She’s taking me for every penny.’ Simon rolled his eyes. ‘Which would be annoying if either of us had any decent money.’

  ‘He got shafted for a younger model,’ Perry explained to Grace.

  ‘You make me sound like a car,’ Simon protested.

  ‘She walked all over him,’ Perry added.

  ‘I know, I know.’ Simon nodded. ‘I can’t help being so nice.’

  Grace saw how blue his eyes were as they crinkled up. Sincere too, which she didn’t see very often.

  ‘I’d best be off to do my job.’ Simon pointed to the residents across the street.

  Grace noticed him blushing and gave him a shy smile. She turned to Perry once he’d gone. ‘So, tattoos and the car make me feel confident Josh Parker is our victim, but we won’t be allowed to release this information until we have a confirmed ID. Nick has gone to inform his wife, even though she can’t see the body yet. For now
, let’s look at the CCTV footage and …’ Grace stopped talking when she saw he wasn’t listening. His eyes were trained over her shoulder.

  A shiver of dread passed through her as she turned her head in the direction Perry was looking. Marching towards them were two men and a woman. The two men she recognised from Spice World the month before.

  The woman shared the same hair and skin colouring as Grace. And, like Grace, she had long legs with a slim build.

  ‘Well, well, well.’ Eddie Steele was the first to speak, removing his sunglasses.

  Grace swallowed as she brought herself tall to face her half-brothers and half-sister.

  SIX

  The situation was surreal. This was never how Grace had intended to meet her family. But then again, she hadn’t expected the first murder case she worked on here in Stoke-on-Trent to be so close to home.

  It was hard to speak in such close proximity to them. Although they had never met, Grace wondered if they knew as much about her as she knew about them. Her mum, Martha, had certainly suggested that. She had also told Grace that Eddie was two years older than her, that she was two months younger than Leon and had a half-sister three years younger. Their father, George, had been sleeping with both her mother and theirs at the same time, for a number of years, leading a double life.

  Aware they were all looking at her, Grace stepped forward, but still she said nothing.

  Eddie turned to Perry. ‘I suppose you’ll be wanting to speak to us?’

  Perry nodded. ‘We need to find out your whereabouts last night. General questions for now. This is DS Allendale.’

  ‘Hello.’ Grace held out her hand to Eddie. His grip was as firm as her own.

  ‘Leon’ – Eddie pointed to his brother – ‘and Jade’s our sister.’

  Grace shook both their hands in quick succession, worrying in case any of them revealed they already knew of each other. The resemblance between her and Jade was so significant that she hoped Perry didn’t notice. She could almost see her own eyes staring back at her.

  But more than that, it was the way Jade stood: on her right foot to the detriment of her left, similar to something Grace always did. And the way she smiled, the full shape of her lips. She wondered what their mother looked like; was she similar to Grace’s own? Martha Steele, née Benson, had been olive-skinned with dark brown hair and not an ounce of fat on her.

  Grace took a deep breath and asserted herself once more. ‘I believe DC Wright knows you all, so if I can get on with the questioning, we can do the formal things later.’ She turned to Perry. ‘Can you go and talk to Trent Gibson?’

  Perry frowned, but she waved him away politely. She wasn’t sure if the Steeles would blow her cover. On the one hand, it might be a good thing because then she wouldn’t feel so deceitful. But then again, she could be removed from the case and she didn’t want that either. ‘Tread carefully’ would have to be her motto for today.

  She followed the siblings into a small and dimly lit hallway, its red carpeted flooring having seen better days. Walls were painted cream with the odd scuff mark. To the right was a door with a sign for toilets and changing rooms. Paint was peeling off the corner of the ceiling and the smell of artificial air-freshener lingered unpleasantly.

  Grace looked around. She could see no security barriers, the kind accessed by a swipe card like the gym she used to be a member of in Salford, so there must be something else.

  ‘Is there a signing-in book?’ she asked.

  ‘Inside the main building,’ Eddie told her. ‘We have lockers too. Things have a habit of going walkabout unless we put them away, if you catch my drift.’ He pointed to a set of double swing doors. ‘Be careful, the swing might come back and hit you,’ he warned. ‘Don’t want to knock you out on your first visit.’

  Grace forced a smile as he held the door open for her to walk through.

  ‘We’ll be saving that for the second time,’ he muttered.

  She turned to him, seeing no friendliness in his features. Up so close, her resemblance to him was uncanny. More noticeably, Grace could see how much he looked like George Steele as she remembered him from around the time she and her mother had left. Eddie must be about the same age as her father had been back then. It unnerved her: this was going to be harder than she had imagined.

  Once through the doors, the room opened out into a large area. To one side was an array of gym equipment around the outer wall. On the other was a boxing ring with several punchbags and weight benches around the side. Grace wondered why they weren’t separated. If she was working out, she wouldn’t want to see anyone punched to the floor, friendly or not. It would put her off completely.

  ‘And you say you only have the one establishment in the city?’ she asked Eddie.

  ‘That’s right.’

  Walking inside Steele’s Gym made Grace realise why they hadn’t branched out across Stoke-on-Trent. Not everyone would like this set-up. It was intimidating, to say the least. Nick had mentioned that this wasn’t its only selling point. She hoped she could find out more about what was going on behind the scenes.

  Eddie showed her into a smaller room on the right of the building. It had three doors leading off it. He pointed to the first on the left.

  ‘Come through into the office and we can discuss things further.’

  SEVEN

  It was a tight fit to squeeze everyone in. The room held a desk and computer, a filing cabinet with paperwork piled on its top and a small settee squashed in front of an opaque-glass window. Leon and Jade sat down on that, while Eddie went behind the desk.

  Grace cleared her throat as they all looked at her, once again waiting for her to speak first. The atmosphere was loaded, but she wanted everyone to know that today was about Josh Parker, not anyone else’s grievances.

  ‘First of all, let’s get this over and done with,’ she started. ‘Any questions about why I am back are really none of anyone’s business but my own. I’m sorry to hear of your father’s death but I come here representing Staffordshire Police.’

  ‘As if we’re interested in anything that brings you here,’ Eddie snapped. ‘Your lot weren’t in the slightest bit concerned when our father was murdered.’

  ‘I doubt that is true,’ she interjected, her tone firm, before turning to the matter in hand. ‘Is there an overall manager or is it a joint effort?’

  ‘It’s a family-run business,’ he said. ‘Leon, alongside Josh, looks after the general running of the gym and the boxing club. Jade and our mum run Posh Gloss, and I oversee the finances and day-to-day running of everything. Has someone gone to tell Christa, Josh’s wife?’

  Grace nodded. ‘We will need her to make a positive identification of the body. Can you take me through what would have happened at closing time yesterday?’

  ‘Josh was on duty with two other trainers until the gym closed at ten p.m. He usually stays behind to do his own workout then, so my guess is he was in the building for about an hour.’

  ‘Are your staff left to work alone?’ Grace frowned. ‘Haven’t you heard of the lone worker policy?’

  ‘You’ve seen the size of Josh Parker?’ Eddie scoffed as he pointed to a photo on the wall behind them.

  Grace turned to see a recent image of Eddie, his arms around their as-yet-unconfirmed victim, who was built like the proverbial brick house. From the photo, she plainly recognised him as one of the men she had seen at Spice World on the night out with her team last month. Parker was tanned with shorn hair, a huge smile revealing a gold tooth. He was wearing a tight black T-shirt that was clearly a size too small and showed every curve of a torso that Grace had to admit was impressive. An image of a cartoon character flashed in front of her eyes as she noted his square chin. And no, she wouldn’t want to mess with him. Josh’s killer must have some guts. Imagine if it had gone wrong.

  ‘He was taken by surprise for someone to do that to him,’ Eddie added. ‘And it was outside the building, so don’t come all high and mighty with the lone worke
r policy thing. We look after our staff here. We always look after our own.’

  She pulled her shoulders up that little bit higher, trying not to show how intimidated she felt.

  ‘So Mr Parker was the last one to leave the building?’ Grace started her questioning again.

  ‘We didn’t murder him, if that’s what you’re implying,’ Leon almost growled at her.

  ‘Was Josh the last one in the building?’ Grace repeated, ignoring his sarcasm.

  ‘I expect so,’ Eddie replied.

  ‘We’ll need access to any security footage you have, inside and out.’

  ‘We have a camera that covers the reception area but not the gym itself.’ Eddie went over to a machine, pulled out a CD and handed it to Grace. ‘And outside we have a camera on each corner of the building, but it doesn’t cover all of the car park at the back.’

  Grace raised her eyebrows. It all seemed pretty convenient. And if their suspect knew this, he or she might have known where to carry out the attack with less likelihood of being seen.

  ‘You mentioned a signing-in book,’ she said. ‘Can you get me a list of everyone who was in the building yesterday evening – say, from six p.m. onwards? Staff, customers and guests, please.’

  Eddie sat forward. ‘There’ll be around a hundred people in here during that time. It’s our busiest period.’

  Leon whistled under his breath. ‘That’s a lot of people to question.’ He folded his arms and stared at Grace.

  Just as she’d thought when she’d first seen them the month before, Leon was so much like Eddie that he could pass as his twin. If it hadn’t been for the faint two-inch scar visible to the side of his right eye, they might even have been able to use each other as alibis.

  She had a feeling over the coming days she would get to know them regardless. Once the investigation was going at full steam, they would be sick of the sight of her and the rest of the team, who were probably already here by now.

  Grace ignored Leon again, choosing to look at Jade who hadn’t said a word yet. She was crying, soft sobs and tears pouring down her face.