Convictions

by Julie Morrigan

  ‘Could we get him for tax evasion?’ asked Winter.

  ‘Tax evasion,’ exclaimed Ruth. ‘Who do you think he is, Al Capone?’

  Hardcastle paced the floor. ‘There has to be something we can legitimately pull him for so we can get him in here and ask him what the hell’s going on.’

  ‘I could always pay him a visit. I could check his flat out at the same time, sir,’ said Ruth.

  ***

  Tina sat with her pen poised over a blank page in her diary. Her therapist had encouraged her to write down all her thoughts and feelings, hopes and fears, and whilst she had been dubious at first she had found it cathartic. She didn’t really think of the book as a diary. She didn’t always date the entries, for a start. And sometimes she would go back to a page and continue the theme, develop the thought. It wasn’t just her whole life that was in there, it was her whole being.

  She was trying to understand her feelings for Leanne, to get them into some sort of perspective. Lea would always be special to her, if for no other reason than that she was Tina’s first and so far only lover. Leanne knew how to get inside Tina’s head, what to say and how to touch her to make her vulnerable. But she wasn’t sure she trusted Lea, not entirely. It was just a vibe she caught sometimes, the tone of her voice, the look in her eyes, just something … off. Not quite right.

  Tina was also confused by the way her volunteer prison visitor, Adam, made her feel. On the one hand, she didn’t see many people from outside; time could hang heavy and it was great to have a regular visitor her own age. On the other, she had hated religion pretty much ever since her mother had become involved in the church following her Dad’s death, and her visitor was religious. Adam had told her he was a member of a Christian group. He made it sound warm and welcoming, but that was at odds with how she felt about religion, which in her experience so far had been cold and controlling.

  Her confusion was amplified by the thrill of arousal she felt whenever he touched her hand or kissed her cheek. Any contact was very proper, there was never anything untoward, but to Tina’s surprise, she wished there could be more to it. There were whole days sometimes when she couldn’t get him out of her head, when she had to find a few minutes of privacy because she couldn’t bear not to touch herself, when she came violently, almost instantly, his name a whisper on her lips, a scream inside her head. Whatever she had experienced with Leanne, however it had made her feel, it had never been anything like that.

  She put pen to paper and started to write.

  ***

  ‘Thanks for agreeing to see me, Jason,’ Ruth said as she glanced around the front room of his flat. It was near to the town centre, on the first floor of one of a row of massive terraced houses. Opposite was a matching terrace, the two divided by a small private park, the entrance at either end gated. ‘I must say, this is very nice.’ She looked out of the bay window; the view outside was tranquil, the area secluded.

  ‘How can I help you?’ Jason asked.

  ‘We’re just having trouble understanding exactly what you do and what your background is. How you fit into the church.’

  Jason smiled, spread his arms expansively. ‘Ask me anything.’

  ‘Okay. Where do you come from, Jason? Where did you grow up and go to school?’

  ‘I was born in Blyth, we moved here when I was fifteen.’

  ‘Do your parents still live here?’

  ‘My parents are dead. They were killed in a car accident a couple of years after we came here.’ He paused, put his head down for a moment. Ruth watched, feeling like an intruder. When he looked up again, he smiled at her. ‘I’m so lucky to have the church. They took care of me when I couldn’t take care of myself.’ Jason stood. ‘Why don’t I put the kettle on? We’ll have a nice cup of tea.’

  ‘Sure,’ said Ruth. ‘Good idea.’

  Jason headed out of the sitting room and Ruth decided to accompany him. It would give her the chance to see more of the flat, for a start. The kitchen overlooked a large yard at the back of the house. Ruth saw a roller shutter in the wall and a carport built between the adjoining wall of the house next door and the side of a couple of brick outhouses. ‘What do you keep in those?’ she asked.

  Jason was busying himself with the kettle and the teapot. ‘The usual,’ he said. ‘Pots of paint, ladders, that kind of thing.

  ‘No car?’ Ruth asked, noticing that the area under the carport was empty.

  ‘Car? Oh, it’s being used,’ said Jason. ‘One of the YPF borrowed it to run some errands.’

  ‘I can’t get used to how generous you all are with your property,’ said Ruth. ‘I don’t lend my car to anyone.’

  ‘Well, I’m used to it,’ said Jason pouring boiling water onto the tea bags in the pot. ‘And if people didn’t borrow it, it would just stand out there doing nothing most of the time.’

  ‘Have you ever gone out to use your car and found it gone?’ asked Ruth.

  ‘Not as yet,’ he replied. ‘We’re all pretty good about working out what we can use and when. Milk?’

  ‘Yes, please.’

  When they were back in the sitting room, Ruth placed her mug of tea on a side table to let it cool and helped herself to a biscuit from the plate Jason had brought in. ‘Do any of the young people stay here?’ she asked.

  ‘Yes, quite often.’ Jason shifted in his seat. ‘You know a lot of these big old houses have been turned into flats?’

  Ruth nodded. The houses were huge, three storeys including the attic rooms, plus a basement. Few families could afford to heat houses like this, let alone buy them.

  ‘Well, this one is no exception. There are four flats and three bedsits in this building. Since the YPF owns the property, we often have people staying.’

  Ruth paused, her hand halfway to the plate for another biscuit. ‘So the YPF doesn’t just own this flat, it owns the entire house?’

  Jason nodded as he munched on a digestive. ‘That’s right. It’s very useful to us.’

  ‘So what’s the arrangement here?’ she asked. ‘Are residents permanent, like you?’

  ‘A couple of us live here permanently,’ he replied. ‘The rest are used as and when required. We have something of a revolving door policy. The bedsits are often used on a short-term basis by people who are homeless. We help them get into somewhere more permanent, but this is a handy stop gap. It gets them off the street. The flats tend to be used by our people when they come down from Otterburn.’

  ‘Do you spend much time at Otterburn?’

  ‘It depends. I spend most of my time down here, but if I’m planning a big outreach campaign, for example, I’ll go up there for the peace and quiet. I do the same when I’m writing. I find I can concentrate very well when I’m there.’ He looked at Ruth. ‘There are fewer distractions, it’s a simpler life.’

  ‘What sorts of things do you write, Jason?’

  ‘I’ve written tracts and pamphlets for the outreach work, and I’m working on a book outlining the principles of a Christian life, explaining how it’s possible to adhere to Christian values even though we live in an increasingly secular world.’

  ‘Is that based on your own experience?’

  ‘Mine and that of other church members. I’ve always worked in the ministry of the church, I need others to tell me what it’s like to work in an office or a factory, how they cope with spending so much time in close proximity with non-believers.’ Jason stood up and went over to a chest of drawers in the corner of the room and rummaged around in the top drawer. He turned back to Ruth with a handful of leaflets. ‘Please, take these. These are examples of the kinds of things I’ve worked on.’ He handed them to her then picked up the plate and his mug. ‘And now, if there’s nothing else …’

  Ruth took the hint. She put the leaflets in her bag, then stood and picked up her mug. Jason was already at the door, heading into the kitchen and she followed.

  ‘Thank you,’ he said as she put the mug down on the bench. She heard the roller shutter bei
ng closed outside and looked out of the window. The car was back under the carport and a young woman, having pulled down the roller shutter, was heading into the house. Ruth saw her from above, slim legs in jeans and a red jacket and hat. She caught a glimpse of blonde hair then the woman passed out of her line of sight.

  ‘That’s Neah,’ Jason told her. ‘She lives here, too.’

  Chapter 19

  ‘What’s up? You look fit to burst.’ Leanne stroked Tina’s arm.

  Tina shrugged her off. She couldn’t bear anyone to touch her, she was far too edgy. ‘It’s my diary. My diary’s gone.’

  ‘Gone where?’

  ‘I don’t know, Lea, it’s just gone. I went to get it this lunchtime and it wasn’t where I left it.’

  ‘When did you last have it?’

  ‘Last night. I put it under the mattress when I went to bed. I wanted to write in it an hour ago and it wasn’t there. It must have been taken while I was in the salon.’

  ‘Are you sure you left it there?’

  ‘Absolutely positive. I always put it in the same place.’

  ‘I can remember seeing you with it last night. Are you sure you took it back to your cell with you? One of the screws might have it. Have you asked Miss Johnson?’

  Tina thought back. Could she have left it behind? It wouldn’t be like her, she was normally so careful with it, but yesterday had been an ‘Adam’ day, as she had come to think of them. She had been distracted. She thought she could remember putting the book under her mattress, but she had done that so many times now, she might be remembering another occasion. She squeezed Leanne’s arm. ‘I’ll ask her. Thanks, Lea.’

  ‘One of them’s bound to have it. No one else would take it, you know that.’

  Later, Tina and Jackie headed into the dining room. Leanne watched them come in and Tina waved to her before sitting down with Jackie a little distance away. She was still fretful, but nowhere near as worried as she had been. She had taken Leanne’s advice and had a word with Miss Johnson, who had promised to find out who had the diary. She was sure someone on night shift would have picked it up if Tina had left it behind somewhere.

  ‘What’s going on?’ Jackie said and Tina looked up from her plate to see a crowd gathering. She and Jackie got up to see what the fuss was. Tina saw Leanne standing on a table, her audience looking up at her expectantly. When she saw Tina watching, she gave her a strange smile, one devoid of warmth, and pulled something out from behind her back.

  Tina’s breath caught in her throat: Leanne was holding her diary.

  ‘Tonight’s entertainment is courtesy of Tina Snowdon,’ Leanne shouted and the crowd cheered. Tina heard Miss Johnson shouting at Leanne to get down and at the women to go back to their meals, but the prison officers were jostled out of the way: the show was just beginning.

  ‘Come away, pet,’ said Jackie. She took Tina by the arm and tried to lead her away from the spectacle, back to the quiet of her cell, but Tina was rooted to the spot. She heard Leanne’s voice as if in a dream, heard Leanne speaking all the private words and thoughts and feelings she had entrusted to the book. She heard names: Annie, Jackie, Leanne, Adam … mainly Adam. Some of the women looked sympathetic, embarrassed even, but far more of them were roaring with laughter, thoroughly enjoying Tina’s humiliation at the hands of her ex-lover.

  Finally the prison officers took control and brought the show to a close. Leanne was taken down from the table top and led away and Miss Johnson brought the diary over to Tina and put it in her hands.

  ‘Thank you, Miss,’ said Jackie.

  ‘Jackie, take Tina back to her cell. You know you’ll all be on lockdown for this, don’t you?’ Jackie nodded and Miss Johnson squeezed Tina’s arm. ‘Don’t take what Leanne did to heart, pet. It’ll all be forgotten by the end of the week, it’ll be somebody else’s turn to get talked about.’

  Tina choked back a sob. ‘Yes, Miss.’

  Later that evening, Jackie caused a commotion in her cell to get the attention of the officers on the night shift. ‘Please,’ she begged them when they opened the door and rushed in. ‘Check on Tina next door. I could hear her sobbing earlier, but she’s been quiet for ages now.’

  ‘Probably cried herself to sleep,’ said one of the officers, as shouting broke out on the wing. ‘Not that anybody’s asleep now, thanks to you.’

  ‘Look, I’m sorry, Miss, but I’m worried—’

  ‘Help! I need some help in here!’

  The officer dashed out of Jackie’s cell and Jackie followed. ‘Oh no, pet,’ she said sadly as she saw one officer take Tina’s weight as the other worked on the knots tying her dressing gown belt to the window bars. Within minutes medical staff were working on Tina, trying to resuscitate her, then she was taken away to hospital in an ambulance. Jackie had no idea if the girl was alive or dead.

  It wasn’t the first time a woman on the wing had tried to kill herself and if Tina had succeeded, she wouldn’t be the first to do that, either. And while Jackie had got used to many things during her time in prison: the lack of privacy, the loss of identity, the casual cruelty some people showed, the mind-numbing banality of the days that could cause otherwise compassionate women to bray and howl with laughter at a young woman’s private thoughts laid bare by betrayal, she had never got used to the suicides. Sick at heart, she buried her head under the covers to deaden the sound of the shouting and prayed for morning.

  ***

  On the day of Tina’s humiliation, Ruth pointed her car in the direction of Karen Fitzgerald’s house and used the spare key she still had to let herself in. She didn’t know what she hoped to see or find, but she missed her friend, was fearful for her wellbeing, and needed to feel close to her.

  She shut the front door behind her and walked through the living room to the kitchen, where she put the kettle on. There’d be no milk, but she knew from previous visits there was coffee in the cupboard. As the kettle boiled, she reached out to the draining board for a mug, then stopped. The draining board was clear, and yet she and Rob had left mugs and plates to dry. Looking around, she could see that the place had been cleaned and reckoned Karen’s sister must have done it, probably needing, like Ruth, to feel close to Karen in some way. She made a cup of coffee and put it on the kitchen table to cool while she walked through the small house. She went upstairs, into the bathroom. The porcelain sparkled, further evidence of Karen’s sister’s hard work. Standing in the spare bedroom where she had stayed after nights out, or nights in for that matter, Ruth had a very strong sense of Karen Fitzgerald: laughing, drinking, joking, then there was her tenacity when it came to a case, her refusal to be beaten by anything, to fail to complete whatever she started. Ruth hoped it augured well for her friend’s survival.

  The atmosphere at the station was alternately hopeful and despondent, depending on how people felt the investigation was progressing. Karen was a popular member of the team, although they would have moved heaven and earth to find her even had she not been, that was how it worked. You were ‘job’, you were family, and family looked out for their own. Ruth wondered if they were all that different from the churchgoers after all, since that was how they seemed to operate, too. They all had a faith, a sense of loyalty and duty, it was just that the focus was different.

  Catching the scent of coffee on the still air of the house, Ruth moved into Karen’s room. The middle dresser drawer was slightly open, as was the wardrobe door. Ruth closed the wardrobe first, then pushed the drawer to. Turning to leave, she noticed that the back of the door was bare. The hook where Karen’s dressing gown usually hung was empty. Ruth wondered if that was the work of Karen’s sister again – what was her name? She couldn’t remember. Then on a whim she pulled open the drawer she had just shut. It was empty. She tried the ones above and below and found them to be the same. Heading downstairs, she saw that there was no post on the mat or on the hall table. Pulling her phone out, she rang Karen Fitzgerald’s mother.

  ***

  ‘It must
be them, sir. Karen’s family confirm that they haven’t been near the place, and yet it’s clean, tidy, the post has been picked up and more of her things are gone.’

  ‘Get somebody over there to dust for prints. I doubt there’ll be any, but let’s not be careless here. I’ll organise surveillance, but in the meantime, can you and Winter keep an eye?’

  Ruth nodded. ‘On my way.’

  ***

  ‘Well, that was stupid.’ Penny looked at Tina with ill-disguised irritation. ‘What on earth were you thinking?’

  ‘I wasn’t thinking, Mum.’ It was the day after her suicide attempt and Tina was in considerable discomfort. She found it hard to talk. She was in a private room at the hospital and would be moved back to Weardale next day.

  ‘This had better be the last time you try this. My nerves can’t take it. I’m on tablets—’

  ‘I’m sorry, Mum. It won’t happen again.’ Tina’s voice was hoarse and faint, her neck sore from having the belt from her dressing gown around it. The doctor had said she was lucky it hadn’t been a cord. She most likely would not have survived had that been the case.

  ‘I hope you mean that.’ Penny fidgeted in her seat. She took a packet of cigarettes out of her bag, opened it and took one out, then put it back again. She stood up. ‘Can I get you anything from the shop?’

  ‘No thanks.’

  ‘Well, I won’t be long.’ She left the room for the second time since her arrival and Tina heaved a sigh of relief. It wasn’t that she didn’t appreciate her mother travelling from Liverpool or that she wasn’t pleased to see her, she just had so little energy left for anything other than her own recovery.

  Tina was again pleased she’d been found, pleased to have survived. Her attempt hadn’t been a cry for help, she really had been serious about wanting to die after Leanne’s performance, but she had since realised that was a knee-jerk reaction. People coped with far worse than a bit of public humiliation in front of people she most likely would never see again after a month or so. She could deal with it. She remembered the lesson she had learned earlier: let enough time pass and things came right. She had lost sight of that and reacted in the moment. She looked up as the door opened, thinking that Penny had been unusually quick to return.