by Liz Mistry
Saj’s stomach chose that moment to rumble and that settled the matter. As promised the coffee was good – full-bodied and flavoursome – and it was enough to wipe away the lethargy from the long drive. Trafalgar House needed to up its game when catering for external visitors and Nikki made a mental note to suggest they use Lazy Bites. She grabbed a ham roll, reminding herself to make room for a vanilla slice … and a jam doughnut. In between bites she asked Jones all about Liam Flynn’s murder. ‘Did you have anyone in mind for it? Any clear suspects?’
‘It was one of those tragic cases where you start off hoping for the best, but as time passes you realise the chances of a happy ending are practically non-existent.’ Pouring himself another coffee, Jones, eyes narrowed, appeared to put his thoughts in order before continuing. ‘Liam was reported missing by his partner, Daniel Lammie. According to him, Liam left to go to his research job at the university – but he never arrived – even missed a couple of lectures he was supposed to deliver. So we looked at Lammie for it first – but he was alibied. CCTV showed Liam leaving the flat and making his way into town at the time Lammie said. Lammie headed in the opposite direction of the university and arrived at his place of work at eight forty-five, from which time he was alibied right through till he left at five-thirty. When he got back to the flat, there were messages on the answer phone from his university colleagues asking where Liam was. He waited till eightish, and when Liam didn’t return and didn’t respond to his phone calls, he phoned us. My feeling early on was that he wasn’t our guy – but you gotta look at everyone.’
‘Any other suspects? Had he had beef with work colleagues, family?’
‘He was estranged from his parents. According to Lammie that had been a fairly recent thing; although Liam refused to confide in Lammie, he said Liam had been devastated by whatever had caused the rift.’
‘Was it to do with his sexuality, do you think?’ Saj’s mouth was set in a thin line as he asked the question. His own family’s response to his sexuality had been traumatic for him and he was now estranged from his entire family, extended and immediate, apart from his sister.
‘Apparently not. Liam and Daniel had been together for a couple of years and had met each other’s families. There was no problem of that sort.’
‘Hmm.’ Nikki was thoughtful. ‘Did the parents tell you what had caused the rift?’
‘Now, that’s where things got a bit weird. The parents were really tight-lipped – grieving – definitely grieving, mind, but they refused point-blank to explain why they and their youngest son had argued.’
‘Brothers, sisters? Any of them know anything?’
‘The eldest brother, Johnny Flynn, has become the family spokesperson – says his parents are too distraught, so he did the media appeals and such. He and the other siblings …’ Jones reached for and consulted his notes. ‘Josie, Maria and Tommy know something – mark my words – but they’re keeping schtum.’ He tapped his fingers on the table. ‘Thing is, who knows if this rift is relevant anyway? We’ve got it down now as some sort of stranger abduction. Maybe a homophobic attack – maybe he was having an affair?’
Saj joined in again. ‘You’ve got a lot of maybes going on, sir; does that mean you’re no further forward?’
Heaving his broad shoulders back in a stretch that made his chair scrape across the lino, DCI Jones exhaled. ‘You’ve got it. We ran all the CCTV, interviewed every bugger and his mother who had anything at all, no matter how vague, to do with Liam Flynn and all we’re coming up with is a big fat ZERO!’
The last word came out on a burst of frustration and caused the other officers in the room to look in their direction for a moment before continuing their work. Nikki sympathised. They’d all been there working a case that seemed to be going nowhere fast and she hoped that they’d soon catch their killer. The letters sent to her made it all too close to home and she needed to find out who had killed Peggy Dyson. ‘So did you manage to track Flynn at all after he headed into town?’
‘Yeah, last footage we got of him was him hanging about outside the bus station then he got into a black van. CCTV showed the number plates were covered, and the driver wore a cap.’
With a grim smile Nikki tutted. ‘Don’t tell me: a baseball cap pulled down over his or her eyes?’
‘You got it. Couldn’t even be sure whether it was male or female. We found the car two days ago parked up in Maxstoke Golf Club car park, west of Nuneaton. It had initially been reported missing from a small town called Bedworth near Nuneaton.’ He held up a hand again. ‘And, before you ask – no CCTV – they wipe their cameras every forty-eight hours. And nobody could say for certain when they first noticed it parked there. They initially thought it belonged to a dog walker, or one of their members who’d had a bit too much in the club house and got a lift home.’ He slammed his fist on the table. ‘If only they’d got their putters out of their arses and phoned it in sooner, we’d maybe have an idea – now we’ve hit a bit of a dead end.’
Nikki and Sajid spent another hour looking at the files and studying the crime boards, and, although there was nothing concrete to link the cases, Nikki was still unable to dismiss the possibility. After thanking their host and promising to take the bottle of whisky he proffered back to Archie, Nikki and Saj left the station to keep their appointment with Liam Flynn’s grieving partner.
Lips turned down, Saj said, ‘Maybe the whisky will be enough to stop Archie ripping us apart when he finds out we’ve gone off on our own, keeping stuff from him.’
Chapter 20
The man in the baseball cap had enjoyed catching up with the gang. Amazing what twenty-odd years could do to a man. Some of his old muckers were hardly recognisable. A few had succumbed to disease and left this mortal coil, but he was still going strong – at least for now. He prided himself on always taking care of himself, not getting too fat like some of them – big lumps of lard, with builder’s bums and man boobs – disgusting.
Today, though, was the day he’d been waiting for. The day when he reacquainted himself with someone he’d not seen in a long time. He’d something to give the old fucker and, although he could have posted it, he preferred to see his face when he delivered it. He’d heard on the grapevine that Hudson was still in the old place. Heard he was in a wheelchair – nearing the end anyway. Still, he wanted to make one last visit to him before he left for good. After all, he and Hudson had shared a lot all those years ago. Boy had they shared a lot. Some of those things had been delectable nubile little arses ripe for the plucking – and pluck them they did.
He wanted to be in and out quickly. No point in drawing attention to himself, no point in making a meal of it. Do what he had to do – straight in and out and then that was another little job ticked off his to-do list.
When he stepped off the bus, the first thing he noticed was the smell of curry in the air. He breathed in deep and promised himself that when he was done he’d head to the Kashmir restaurant on the other side of Bradford. It was still there after all this time and he wanted to see if it had changed at all. Bringing his attention back to the present, he walked down from the huge McDonald’s on the Thornbury roundabout. That was all new too. Big difference from the run-down grey area he remembered.
Gaynor Street had transformed, but he walked sprightly, kept his head down and didn’t take much notice of the changes. Other things on his mind. He reached number 83 near the top of the hill, paused and glanced round quickly before slipping through the gate, reasonably sure no one had spotted him. Even if they had, what did it matter? He was just another bloke in a T-shirt wearing a baseball hat, wasn’t he?
The door was easy enough to jimmy, although he didn’t really need to, for by the time he’d opened it and stepped into the hallway, Hudson was leaning on a Zimmer frame by the living-room door. ‘Saw you from the window. I’d have let you in if you’d waited, you know? No need to break in.’
The man grinned. ‘Where’s the fun in that, Gerry, eh?’ He looked arou
nd and screwed up his nose. ‘Fucking stinks in here.’
Gerry Hudson laughed, a brittle crackly sound that spoke of clogged lungs and breathlessness. ‘You never did mince your words did you, Freddie? Come away in. I can’t stand for too long and this damn contraption is useless.’
Freddie nodded and followed him through to a cluttered living room. Hudson’s chair was angled towards the window. The dirty old perv was still getting his jollies where he could. Well, maybe by the time Freddie had finished with him, the old cripple would be in no mood for window stalking.
Chapter 21
The flat that Liam Flynn had shared with Daniel Lammie was in a row of houses in a quiet avenue near a cemetery, with a church at the top of the road. Behind the flat, the River Cam flowed gently by, a few punters and kayakers taking advantage of the sun. Nikki turned from the window and looked at the young man who sat on the edge of a couch, next to his sister. He was in his early twenties, skinny, short-haired and totally distraught. His swollen eyes were surrounded by dry flaking skin, as was his red nose. A pile of tissues in the bin beside him told their own story. ‘I’m really sorry to have to intrude at a time like this, but we really want to try to find out who did this to Liam.’
Daniel straightened and looked straight at Nikki. ‘I just don’t get it. I really don’t. Everyone loved him – he’d no enemies.’
Nikki sat in the chair opposite him, and nodded towards Saj. ‘DC Malik will record this, so we don’t miss anything out. What I particularly want to ask is about Liam’s estrangement from his parents. DCI Jones informs me that’s a recent thing. Have you any idea what could be behind it?’
Wiping a tissue across his eyes, Daniel shook his head. ‘No – I can’t think what caused it. I mean they were never super close, but they got on well enough until a couple of months ago. It just happened all of a sudden. He came home one Friday night, and said he was heading off to Manchester as he had to sort something out with his parents. I offered to go with him, but he said it was family business.’
‘Family business? Was that usual – did he often have family business to deal with?’
‘No – never before that I know of. He came back late on the Saturday and he was in bits. He curled up in bed and cried like a baby and then when he got up all he said was that he was finished with his parents and he never wanted them mentioned again.’
‘Did you try to find out more?’
‘’Course I did, but he was adamant he wouldn’t talk about them. Said they were an abomination – that was the word he used. Said he was glad we, me and him, wouldn’t have kids, cause he wouldn’t want them to inherit his parents’ warped genes.’
‘That’s quite strong isn’t it – abomination and warped genes?’
‘That’s what I thought, but he refused point-blank to say any more.’ Daniel sniffed again and pulled a cushion onto his knee, hugging it tightly. ‘You say you’re from Bradford? What has Liam’s murder got to do with Bradford police?’
Sajid looked up. ‘We know Liam’s got no links with Bradford, we already looked at that angle, but something’s come up and we’re just checking it out.’
‘Liam’s never been to Bradford, but I think his parents might have.’ He paused, head angled to one side as he thought about it. ‘Yes, I’m almost sure his dad told me one night at the pub that he grew up there. Mind you, it might have been Birmingham. Definitely somewhere beginning with a B.’
This was news to Nikki and Saj. They’d checked Liam and his family for links to Bradford, but he’d lived in Manchester his entire life until he moved to Cambridge and they could find nothing linking the rest of the family to Bradford either. If this was true and Liam’s parents were brought up in Bradford, maybe they’d found their link.
*
Liam Flynn’s office was small and cramped and although the Cambridge police had already been over it, Nikki wanted to get a feel for Liam’s place of work. He had been neat and organised. Everything was filed and his desk had only a photo of Daniel, a pen pot and his laptop. Nikki opened the top drawer and looked in. There was a photo frame face down lying atop a few shards of glass. She turned it round and saw that it was a photo of Liam’s family – parents and siblings – but the glass had been broken and his parents’ faces scribbled out in black permanent marker. What had made this previously devoted son turn his back on his parents like this? What had they done and why wouldn’t they share the information with the police?
Nikki showed the smashed photo frame to Sajid before she replaced it and then, with a smile, accepted Professor Downford’s offer of coffee next door in his much more spacious office. Nikki and Saj sat on what Sajid whispered to her was a Chesterfield settee, whatever that was, and sipped their drinks. Professor Downford needed no prompting to chat about Liam.
‘He was a lovely man – had so much potential, liked by students and staff alike and I’m not just saying that because he’s dead. I don’t hold with all this speaking no ill of the dead – if they deserved to be spoken badly of, then so be it.’ He leaned back in his chair, elbows resting on the arms, fingers steepled across his nose in what Nikki thought of as a typical professor-style pose.
‘What was his research about? Could he have made enemies in his area of research?’
‘Oh no. Liam’s research was all about familial DNA and how it could be traced back over history to perhaps solve cold cases where the perpetrator’s DNA wasn’t held on file – or to identify and reunite long-dead people with their families. Quite a fascinating area of work, although he had become a little distracted recently and had taken off on a sub-strand of research.’
‘Oh?’
‘Yes, he was looking at gene pools and the effects of narrowing them – fascinating stuff, but not directly linked to the work he was doing for me. However, I let him go with it. I’m all for letting researchers develop their own ideas for research strands and Liam was particularly talented.’
As Nikki and Saj left the bustling campus, Nikki wondered if Liam’s research had been at the root of his murder. If this was the case, it seemed even less likely that there was a link to Peggy Dyson. Although the possibility that Liam’s parents, or at least his dad, had perhaps been born in Bradford opened up new avenues to explore. However, Daniel hadn’t seemed one hundred per cent sure about his facts and Nikki couldn’t base an entire investigation on a half-remembered conversation in a pub.
Chapter 22
By 7 p.m. Nikki and Sajid were on their way home.
‘You sure you don’t want me to take a turn with the driving? You must be knackered and it’s still another two and a half hours’ drive.’
‘Good try, Nik, but I’m good.’
Hunched up in the passenger seat, enjoying their cushioned comfort, Nikki was less bothered about exerting her right to drive than she had been on the way down to Cambridge. She hadn’t slept well the previous night and was beginning to fade. It had been a long day. Forcing a yawn back, Nikki made an effort to stay awake. ‘What do you reckon – was the newspaper clipping just a red herring – something to put us off the trail?’
Saj indicated and overtook a caravan before replying. ‘I don’t think it was, Nik. I don’t know how it all ties together, but Liam Flynn’s murder, although we can’t see it yet, must relate to Peggy Dyson’s murder. Why else would your anonymous admirer send the clippings?’
Nikki sighed and, eyes on the passing countryside, allowed her mind to wander. All this talk in Cambridge about genes and such like had got her thinking about her own gene pool. She’d always been of the mind that genes and DNA did not a father make – but what if her father’s meanness was inside her – rotting and spreading its own unique brand of sadism like a tumour transmitting its malignant, destructive spores throughout her, just looking for a weak area to attach itself to, so it could grow and grow until it engulfed her?
A sharp twang of her wristband calmed her a little – it always did. It was her coping mechanism and one she only relied on in times of str
ess. Still, she couldn’t get the thought out of her head. What if she’d passed that gene on to her kids? What if, despite the good genes passed down by their respective fathers, she’d managed to give them that one rogue gene? The gene that would turn her precious, beautiful, thoughtful children into monsters as they grew up? Studiously looking out the window so Saj wouldn’t see her face, she asked, ‘What’s your thoughts on nature versus nurture, Saj?’
The silence stretched out and, heart pummelling her chest harder than Tyson Fury’s fists, her head snapped round, dreading what she’d see on her partner’s face. Perhaps Saj had seen something in one of her kids that neither she nor Marcus had.
‘Aw, Nik.’ His voice, raw and anguished, tore at her and a tear rolled down her cheek. She rubbed it away with the back of her hand and turned her head away from him again. Her partner knew her too well and the look on his face told her he’d understood where her question had come from.
Something soft was pushed into her hand and she looked down at it – a handkerchief. A reluctant smile tugged at her lips. ‘Seriously, Saj – a proper hankie? Do you keep a stock of these, or what? Tissues not good enough for you?’
‘Aw shut up, Parekh – some of us have standards. I want that back freshly laundered and ironed.’
‘Eh, do people really iron hankies? I knew there was a really good reason why I stick to tissues.’
Shaking his head, Saj looked sideways at her as he drove and, seemingly satisfied with whatever he saw there, he nodded once and then spoke. ‘Look, Nik. This case must be really difficult for you. I get that, but you can’t give in to these stupid thoughts. You asked about nature versus nurture – well here’s my take on things. I think you inherited a lot from your dad.’
