by Liz Mistry
Chapter 27
Although he hadn’t returned to Bradford in order to catch up with old acquaintances, there was something satisfying about realising that, while the world had moved on for Freddie Downey, for some it had remained stagnant. Although the city had changed over the years and his friends had inevitably grown older, fatter and uglier, their basic outlook on life was pretty much the same as it had been twenty-five years ago. Pie, beer and wheeling and dealing were the extent of their vision. Paycheques and dodgy deals, living hand to mouth, no thought to the future. He wondered if he’d be the same had he remained in Bradford. However, his enforced exile had prompted him to think ahead. It had been difficult to forge out a new path for himself, to make the changes he needed to, but he’d done it. Out of prison now for fifteen years, he’d used the time wisely and now he was in a position to put the past behind him once and for all.
Well, that had been before his sources highlighted the little issue that he’d returned to Bradford to address. At first he’d thought the slut Peggy’s murder might have been just a drug-related cluster fuck – but word on the street that had filtered back to him indicated it wasn’t. Peggy had become a blabbermouth and that had sealed her fate. As soon as he’d heard about the Cambridge lad’s disappearance he’d known he was right, which was when he headed “home”. Nowt like a bit of Yorkshire hospitality to set you up with a lasting memory of your old place before heading off to pastures new.
The pub wasn’t the one he’d frequented in the old days. That one had long since shut down and was now a Chicken Cottage takeaway. Bloody sacrilege, if you ask me. It hadn’t taken him long to find out where the old crew hung out nowadays and, downing a pint in the Duchess of York in Eccleshill, catching up with the gossip and stuffing Yorkshire pudding filled with beef and gravy, was a pleasant enough way to fill the time until he made his next countermove.
Jimbo Lane, one of his mates from way back, had given him the heads-up about the pig activity on the old street. ‘Summat’s gone down there, you know. Full of oinkers all over’t place.’ He’d laughed, swigged his beer, scratched his groin and continued. ‘Mark my words, old friend, you’ll notice a big difference there. Full of Pakis now, like. Nowt like it was in our day. Bloody mosque spewing gibberish on a Friday and bloody curry shops everywhere.’
Little did Jimbo know that his friend had already reacquainted himself with Gaynor Street. A little walk down memory lane had been called for and there was no way he’d miss that area out. Besides, he’d had a job to do there. Fed up with Jimbo’s drunken big talk, he vacated the pub and called a taxi. Some things you had to see for yourself and, if he was lucky, he might just catch a glimpse of her.
*
It was easy to merge in with the crowd. Baseball cap on front-ways today, pulled down, covering most of his face, he stood towards the back of the crowd watching the activity on Gaynor Street from Leeds Old Road. Jimbo had been right. The area had changed. The church and the old Victorian first school had been bulldozed and replaced by a row of new shops, as had the middle school on the opposite side of the road. A Morrisons, a B&Q and other shops were set back off the road and the area was thriving with folk desperate to find a way to spend their incapacity money. He coughed and spat the product onto the pavement. A woman holding a kid turned and glared at him, edging away from him as if he could infect her kid. He grinned, enjoying the buzz of power that small interaction had given him. Then, mindful of the need to keep a low profile, he skirted round to the back of the crowd and watched the activity from behind a group of young lads smoking weed.
They were out in force: police cars, CSI vans, uniforms, CID … And there she was. His eyes narrowed as he saw her leaving old Hudson’s house, a smart-looking lad following along behind her. DC Malik, he reckoned, if his sources were accurate. She’d clearly been inside doing her “police thang”. He wondered how much she remembered of her time on Gaynor Street, what she made of all this. Had she managed to put things together yet?
He smiled. The diary entries were a streak of genius. But was DS Nikita Parekh smart enough to put it all together? He doubted it – not if she took after her stupid mother. His grin widened and a short bark of laughter escaped his mouth, making the lads in front of him look at him as if he was mad, before they edged away. Maybe the second-hand weed smoke was making him high. He watched her, looking to see who she took after. She had her mother’s stature – no doubt about that – and her colouring – yes, she definitely looked half-caste. Not that you were supposed to use that term these days. He shrugged. He was old-school. What was it they said about old dogs and new tricks? He coughed again, but this time directed his phlegm into the gutter. He’d already been too visible, no point in pushing his luck.
It was strange watching Nikita, trying to second-guess her. The human element piqued her interest, no doubt. That’s why the diaries were a stroke of genius. She’d always been the protector – protecting her mum and her sister even though she was just a scrawny brat. Those diary entries would keep her focused – but would she make the link? It didn’t really matter to him whether she did or not. For him it was all sport. He’d be all right. His escape route was infallible, but if she couldn’t put things together, then he’d have underestimated her and she’d be the one to suffer the consequences.
He couldn’t believe his luck when he found the books all those years ago. He hadn’t known then how useful they would be now. Some of the things in those entries were harsh – very harsh. Good job he didn’t find the diaries before she left or she’d have suffered. Mind you, he supposed in a way she was suffering now. Living a lie, hiding her past, pretending to be all respectable whilst anybody with a bit of sense would take one look at that family and see it for what it is – an abomination – a freak of nature.
Never mind, their time would come – no matter what they tried to do to cover up. They should have been more careful with Peggy Dyson and the lad in Cambridge – that’s what started this whole thing. Now he could just sit back like a puppeteer and watch them run around trying to make sense of his directions and misdirection.
He walked away, satisfied with what he’d seen. Now, he had other business to conduct. Other messages to deliver and this one was personal. Whistling under his breath he checked his pocket and smiled. It was there. Ready and waiting – and then after that a curry to celebrate.
Chapter 28
Sajid was still on his phone arranging the post-mortem with Langley when Nikki returned to the Zafira. She’d used the few minutes to calm herself in preparation for baring her soul to her partner. There was no doubt in her mind that she had to come clean. Sajid deserved the truth and she would have to face the consequences. Hudson’s death and what they’d found in his bedroom made it a priority for her to come clean. Sliding into the driver’s seat, she tried for distraction – as much to allow herself breathing space as to annoy Saj. Her partner, however, ignored her juvenile attempts to irritate him by making mock-kissing sounds on the back of her hand.
Hanging up, he turned to Nikki. ‘He says he’ll work late if you stop making stupid smoochy noises and will start this post-mortem at six.’
Despite her heavy heart, Nikki grinned. She had been teasing her partner in an attempt to lighten the atmosphere before she confided in him her connection to this street. After yesterday’s revelations compounded by today’s link to them, she suspected he wouldn’t be too chuffed. Better to get it over with before it had time to come a big thing between them. She prodded him on the arm. ‘Langley did not say that. He loves me. He appreciates my humour. He too thinks you should lighten up a little.’
Sajid shook his head slowly from side to side. ‘Oh, Nikki, you should know by now that you can’t get to me. I’m the master of cool.’
Nikki smothered a snort and then placing her hands on the steering wheel, looked straight out the windscreen. ‘I’ve got to tell you something, Saj, and I’m telling you this now right at the start – so you don’t go mad at me for not ba
ring all. I didn’t say anything inside the house because I was still processing it all myself, but I’m coming clean now, okay?’
As Saj swivelled in the seat, Nikki felt his eyes on her, but continued to stare straight ahead. ‘I used to live in this street. When we were kids, before my mum managed to get us out. We lived over there in number 86.’
The silence before Saj replied was leaden and Nikki held her breath, dreading his response. Although she would at a later date fill Sajid in more fully, she was too drained – too fragile to do it right now.
As if sensing her need to process, Saj kept to the pertinent issues. ‘Right … Well, did you recognise Hudson – or any of the kids in the photos?’
Nikki shook her head. ‘I was only a kid. I thought I recognised the name, but …’ She shrugged.
‘Well, in light of those anonymous letters combined with what we discovered in old man Hudson’s bedroom, it’s safe to assume that it’s all linked and someone is letting you know it is. We need to go to Archie with this, Nik.’
Nikki had expected this. It was the right thing to do. Archie needed to know the full picture and although she wasn’t looking forward to revealing details from her childhood to her fellow officers and her boss, she was more concerned with how her mother would take all of this. Lalita Parekh had put her past well and truly behind her, refusing point-blank to discuss it with either Nikki or Anika over the years until finally the sisters had just stopped probing.
‘Couldn’t have been easy for you, Nik. Not for any of you. But coming back now, seeing it again – well …’ He shook his head. ‘I just can’t imagine what that’s dragged up.’
Nikki smiled. The way Sajid described it in the past, his childhood had been little short of idyllic. No fears for his safety, no money worries, no hunger … but that had all changed for him when his family discovered he was gay. Okay, he was financially secure, happy with Langley, but the fear for his safety was very real. Both he and Langley had been physically threatened and their secure little bubble was no longer quite as safe. The baggage the pair of them carried was what made them such good detectives. Nikki reached out and squeezed his arm. They made a good team and there was no one she’d rather have in her corner when this shitstorm exploded around them.
In her side mirror, Nikki spotted Lisa Kane the journalist, pacing up and down just outside the crime scene tape. She exhaled. If that woman got a hold of this, Nikki and her family could wave bye-bye to any privacy. Her stomach churning as if a ball of maggots had hatched en masse and were eating their way through the lining, Nikki realised that she’d have to speak to her kids. She’d always meant to tell them. Thought she’d sit each of them down at 16 and tell them a watered-down version of her childhood, but now she was being forced to do it, she was sickened. The last thing she wanted to do was bring that poison into their lives.
She visualised her children – laughing, happy, full of joy – and then before her eyes Charlie, Ruby and Sunni’s faces distorting, melting, their features transforming into pained gargoyle expressions. Twanging her elastic band didn’t make the images disappear and it wasn’t until Sajid pressed his fingers into her arm that she realised tears were pouring down her cheeks. As she blinked, the tortured images disappeared and Nikki was once more back in her battered old Zafira.
Chapter 29
Isaac, headphones on, rucksack swung over one shoulder, got out of Lally Mum’s car and walked up the road towards Lazy Bites café. He’d told her he didn’t want his new boss, Grayson, to think he was a baby. But the truth was, he’d spotted Calum and his mates at the bus stop. He didn’t want them to see him with Lally Mum. Didn’t want them to know where he was living and didn’t want them to hurt her, like they hurt him.
He’d no idea how they’d found him, and he was petrified. Would they kick him like they did last time? He remembered the pinkie promise he’d made with Calum and was sure they’d come to see what he’d done about that. Eyes on the pavement, Isaac shuffled forward, hoping that maybe they wouldn’t notice him, but no such luck. A yell from behind made him stop.
‘Hey, Reeetard, wait a minute. We’ve got business to sort out.’
Within seconds the three louts were next to Isaac, yanking his cap, and nudging him. Calum placed a heavy arm around his shoulders and pulled his head down, before repeating his usual greeting of rubbing his knuckles into Isaac’s scalp.
‘Ouch, Calum. That hurts.’
‘Aw sorry, mate. Only playing, you know?’ Calum, huge grin spread over his acne-covered face, let go of Isaac and moved so that he was blocking Isaac’s route to the café.
‘You’ve not forgotten your promise, Mongol boy?’
Isaac shook his head. Course he hadn’t forgotten it. It was all he could think about and he just wanted to get it sorted so Calum would leave him alone and his mum wouldn’t go to hell.
‘That’s good cos I’ve arranged a meeting with you and a lawyer. You’ve to meet this bloke outside your house at six o’clock tonight.’ Calum handed Isaac a slip of paper, then banged the heel of his hand against this forehead. ‘What am I thinking? Bet you can’t read.’ He high-fived his mates as the three of them collapsed into raucous laughter. ‘Or tell the time.’ Again the raucous laughter.
Isaac hoisted his bag onto his back, and studied the piece of paper. ‘Mr McIvor Law-yer. Six p.m.’ He looked up at them triumphantly when he’d finished reading the name aloud, but the boys for some reason seemed to find it even funnier. Isaac wondered if they were on drugs – or drunk maybe.
‘I can tell the time. Look, I’ve got a watch.’ He held out his wrist, displaying the watch his mum had given him before she died. ‘My mum taught me.’
One of Calum’s mates grabbed his wrist and began to unbuckle the watch strap.
‘Nooo!’ Isaac yanked his arm back. ‘Mum gave me that.’
The boy grabbed his arm again and elbowed Isaac in the ribs. ‘Well, it’s mine now.’
‘Leave him alone, Gordy. The idiot will need that to make sure he keeps his appointment, won’t he?’
Gordy let go of Isaac’s hand and then elbowed him again. ‘You got lucky, fat boy. Next time, it’s mine. Got it?’
As the three boys headed back towards the bus stop, Isaac took his watch off and hid it in his pocket. He once more set off to work, wishing he could tell Nikki all about it. But he’d made a pinkie promise and there was nothing Nikki or Lally Mum could do about that.
Chapter 30
A sharp rap at the half-open car window made Nikki jump. She angled her head away from DC Anwar whose smile was replaced by a concerned frown. Scrubbing her cheeks with the soft fabric handkerchief Sajid had thrust into her hands, for once not teasing him about the never-ending supply, she took a moment. Then, cursing her momentary weakness, Nikki pasted what Saj often described as “her battle-axe” face on and more abruptly than she intended said, ‘Well, what is it?’
Anwar’s concerned expression was immediately replaced by a blank look. The only sign that her superior officer’s harshness had bothered her a slight flush on her cheeks. ‘The carer has come back, boss. Kussum Lad. She wants to get the interview over and done with. Poor woman can’t get her head round this, but is desperate to help.’
Adding a smile to her quick nod, Nikki followed up with a shrug. ‘Sorry for snapping, Anwar. Things just got to me for a moment. I’ll sort out the interview. Where is she?’
With a shake of her head to indicate Nikki’s apology was unnecessary, Anwar pointed towards a battered Corsa parked up just beyond the cordoned-off street and then frowned. ‘I better go, boss. The bloody hyenas have arrived and they’re already hassling Dobbs. It’s his first day on the job, so I should rescue him.’
Nikki glanced in her side mirror and groaned. As expected, the press had caught wind of a juicy story and Lisa Kane, blonde hair like a beacon, was clearly visible leading the pack. What a crap fest this is turning out to be.
‘You okay, Nik?’
Sajid had left her
to her own thoughts until now – given her the space she needed to compose herself. He was another one of life’s sound men, just like his partner Langley and Archie – and Nikki was glad to be surrounded by them. Hoping that he wouldn’t hear, she exhaled in one long slow breath, shut her eyes and touched the dashboard to ground herself. ‘I’m fine.’
‘We can’t interview the carer, Nik. We’ve got to report back to Archie and let someone else take over.’
‘Springer? You think she’s up to it, do you?’
Saj shook his head. ‘’Course not. But you’re too close to this. You can’t be the SIO. You need to step back. You know that. We can’t compromise the investigation.’
Slamming her fist onto the steering wheel, Nikki released a long slow measured breath. ‘Okay. I promise. But can’t we just interview this Kussum Lad? We’re here now. Soon as we’ve spoken to her, we’ll head back to Trafalgar House. I promise.’
Considering the situation, Saj finally sighed. ‘Okay. But soon as we’re done here, we go bring Archie up to speed.’
As they walked towards Kussum’s vehicle the group of insistent journalists jostled each other in their attempts to get her attention. ‘Bloody vultures are out in force.’
Glowering at Lisa Kane, Nikki avoided eye contact. Kane thrust her Dictaphone under Nikki’s nose. ‘Can you give us an update, DS Parekh? What progress have you made so far? Are you looking at any suspects?’
Nikki stopped, and rather than her usual “no comment” said, ‘There will be a briefing at Trafalgar House later today. I can’t say any more now. Thank you for giving us space to work.’ And she marched over to the Corsa where Kussum waited for them.
