by Helen Phifer
‘I’ll see what I can do. I’ve run the usual checks and there’s no trace of Darren Sharp. Well there are lots of Darren Sharps, but none with a matching DOB or the right age.’
Her phone began to ring. She looked down relieved to see it was Browning and answered.
‘Boss, has the Super caught up with you yet?’
‘Not yet.’
‘Good, I need the go-ahead to remove the body from the scene.’
‘You’re satisfied everything’s been done, twice.’
‘Yes.’
‘Good to go then.’
‘I’ll meet you up at the mortuary, Lucy, be there in the next thirty minutes. The undertakers have been on standby for the last two hours. God knows how they’re going to get him in the bloody body bag, his arms are as stiff as a board.’
Lucy shuddered, she didn’t want to think about it. ‘Thanks, I’ll see you there.’ She looked around; all she had to do was to get back out of the station before the Super, Simon White, clocked eyes on her.
Col nodded at her. ‘If he asks, you’ve gone to an emergency doctor’s appointment. It’s the truth, sort of. I’ll run Darren Sharp and all the associated aliases through the system. Do you want me to take Rachel and go visit the children’s home he was in? They might still have some records of what happened to him, if he was adopted out or whatever?’
‘That would be amazing. I’m not sure Rachel will be much help though. She’s in weekend mode already.’
He shook his head. ‘There’s a surprise, when isn’t she?’
Lucy smiled, turned and made a swift exit before anyone else clocked her.
Chapter Fifty-Nine
He caught sight of his reflection in the bathroom mirror and took a step closer. Who was that staring back at him? It didn’t look like him. This version of him was older, greyer, his complexion much paler. The dark circles under his eyes made him look as if he hadn’t slept for weeks. Maybe he hadn’t – he didn’t know what was real and what was the voices inside his head. It was too hard to distinguish the difference. He’d thought he was well enough to give up his meds; that he was better and could cope without them, but now he wasn’t so sure that was right. Everything that used to be so normal to him now seemed so far away that he didn’t even know how normal felt anymore. The house was quiet, so he went downstairs. She wasn’t in, that was good. It gave him the chance to clean up his mess before she came back. He went into the garage where he’d left his blood-soaked clothes, and the earthy, coppery smell filled his nostrils. This was so bad; what if she’d come in here? She could have gone to get the police, that meddling policewoman who had been to the church – what if she’d gone to the station to speak to her? He tugged the cord, and the garage flooded with light. He could see the pile of clothes right where he must have stepped out of them last night. He opened a black refuse sack and stuffed them inside, as something fell out of the pocket of his jeans. He bent down to pick it up; the collar was no longer white, it was now dark red. For the first time since he’d opened his eyes this morning he smiled. He would put this in with his other keepsakes. He felt the cat rub against his legs. It had taken all his restraint not to kill it. When she’d begged for a pet, he’d argued against it the best he could, knowing full well that the impulse to start killing animals could return at any moment and then she’d have been heartbroken. But she’d sulked so much for days that he’d had no choice but to give in to her. He kicked it, making it run away. Good. He wanted it to fear him. It was safer for it if it kept a safe distance, but the damn thing was too friendly and needy, always rubbing itself against him and the sofas. He was sick of the cat hairs it left everywhere. No matter how many times he ignored it or pushed it away it still came back for more.
Taking the bag outside he threw it in the fire pit, not bothering to light it. He could do that later. What he needed to do was to put the dog collar somewhere safe. He wanted to be able to look at it whenever he had the urge to relive last night. He went inside and, tugging open the drawer, he took the box out and put it inside. A loud knock at the door disturbed him, and he pushed the drawer, not fully closing it.
The letterbox opened, and a red card was pushed through. Christ what had she ordered now? She was a fucking shopaholic; he was glad he hadn’t answered it. They could take whatever crap it was back to the depot. Pulling on his only pair of shoes, he grabbed his jacket and left, no idea where he was going – he just needed to walk. To try and clear his head because it felt as if there were more people living inside of his mind than there were in the block of flats opposite his house. It was getting harder to distinguish who was real and who wasn’t.
He walked along the seafront, past the prom which was sealed off from the public because it was unsafe. He carried on walking until he found himself passing the police station. He didn’t go near the front doors though; he wasn’t ready to give himself in just yet. He didn’t know if he ever would be. Standing looking at the glass-fronted monstrosity, he wondered if he ever would be ready to call it a day. A blonde woman came rushing through the sliding doors, and he turned to stare at her. It was her, that copper who was sticking her nose in where it didn’t belong. Then she was inside her car and driving away, not even giving him a second glance. He turned around and began to walk back the way he’d come. He had to get away from here, what was he thinking?
Chapter Sixty
Lucy made it to the hospital corridor outside the mortuary where Browning was waiting for her. He smiled.
‘Remind me never to play hide-and-seek with you. I take it Simon hasn’t caught up with you yet.’
She shook her head. ‘No, but it’s getting close. It’s only a matter of time. Col has a suspect, well I think he’s good for it. There’s an unsolved murder from 1994, an alcoholic who had found God, used to beat his kid. The kid got took into care, four years later the dad’s found bludgeoned and stamped to death with his own bible.’
‘Do we have a name for the kid?’
‘Darren Sharp.’
‘Doesn’t ring any bells. Where is he now?’
‘If we knew that we wouldn’t be here now. No idea.’
The loud voice behind them made Lucy freeze as she recognised Simon’s deep tones. ‘DI Harwin, you are a nightmare to get hold of. Can I have a word?’
She looked at Browning, who nodded once before slowly turning around.
‘Have you been trying, sir? My phone’s playing up, sorry.’
‘Browning, can you tell the doctor I’ll be a few minutes but she can start without me if she needs to?’
‘Sir.’
Lucy watched as he disappeared through the double doors which led towards the changing rooms and the mortuary.
‘This isn’t personal, Lucy, but I can’t have you working this case. I thought you would have realised that, especially after the unfortunate turn of events yesterday.’
‘Which unfortunate turn of events? Arresting David Collins mid shag, his wife trying to kill me, or his murder after he was released from custody? There were quite a few.’
‘Well if you put it like that I suppose all of them. You know what it’s like, there’s too much at stake. When the suspect is apprehended, and the CPS get a whiff of you doing your own thing instead of following the rules, well it will be game over; it won’t even get to court. We can’t afford to make mistakes like that.’
She felt her whole body sag. Damn he was right. She had been too focused on trying to make it all right, when she could be making it worse. There was no point in even arguing with him, and he knew that.
‘I haven’t spoken to you since you were assaulted. What are you even doing in work? Your head is a mess and it must be painful. You should be at home, sprawled out on the sofa watching crap daytime TV. Not chasing around the streets trying to find a murderer.’
‘I know, but we’re so close. We have a strong lead; Col is working on getting an identity for him and then we can get an arrest team together.’
He placed both his
hands on her shoulders. ‘I know, I’ve spoken to Col and Rachel. You’ve done everything you can; Collins’s death isn’t anything to do with you, but there are official procedures that have to be followed. I need you to go home and get some rest. Have a few days sick leave. Browning will keep you updated.’
Nodding, she let out a sigh. ‘Please tell him to, I’ll go mad stuck at home not knowing what’s happening.’
He laughed. ‘I know you will, but you have to anyway.’
She turned and walked away; it was pointless arguing. Her head was hurting, and she was tired; she hadn’t got any sleep last night with the nurses coming in and out and the noise from the ward opposite. Doing her best to keep the scream bottled inside her chest she made her way back to the car park and her car. The best thing she could do was swallow three painkillers and go to bed, because otherwise, she would be pacing up and down the living room like she’d lost her mind.
Chapter Sixty-One
The front door slammed jolting Lucy awake. Opening her eyes she shouted, ‘Ellie.’
‘Sorry, Mum, didn’t know you’d be home yet.’
She exhaled, her body felt like a lead weight and her eyes didn’t want to focus. Those painkillers had certainly sent her into a deep sleep. She rolled on her side and lay there waiting for her mind to catch up with the rest of her. Ellie’s pounding footsteps came running up the stairs – for a skinny teenager she always managed to sound like an elephant. She knocked on her bedroom door.
‘Are you ill? How come you’re in bed so early?’
‘What time is it?’
‘Nearly seven.’
Lucy didn’t turn to look at her, hoping this was just a flying visit. Ellie was having a hard time deciding which parent she should live with, so was making the most of it. If she was going straight back to George’s she’d be able to avoid the awkward conversation about the state of her face.
‘No, I’m tired. Been working extra-long shifts, it’s been a long week.’ She felt the bed go down as Ellie sat on it and realised she was going to have to turn around. As she did she watched her daughter’s expression turn from smiling to horrified.
‘You’re face, what happened? Are you okay?’
‘I’m fine, well apart from the headache from hell.’
‘Who did it though, Mum, you’re not fine, are you?’
She thought about telling her a different story to what had happened then realised that her daughter wasn’t stupid. There was bound to be something in the news about the whole mess, and she didn’t lie to her family no matter what. Pushing herself up on her elbows she smiled.
‘Are you hungry?’
‘Yes, Rosie made a healthy shepherd’s pie for tea which tasted like shit. Then when I told her I’d rather eat tinned dog food she got mad at me and made Dad tell me off.’
Lucy laughed. ‘Tact is not your thing, is it, Ellie? I suppose you take after me in that respect. Well I’m bloody starving. If you order a Chinese takeaway, I’ll help you eat it, then when we’ve eaten I’ll tell you what happened. I don’t want to put you off your food.’
‘I knew it was a good idea to call in here before I went to Nat’s to babysit Bella.’
She felt a chill run through her body and shivered. After they’d eaten she was going to have to turn into the overpowering, bossy mother that turned her daughter into a completely different girl. What choice did she have? Natalia wasn’t going to need her tonight. There was no way the Street Saviours would be running for weeks; in fact it might not run ever again. For one thing the church hall was still locked down and there was a cordon around the whole area and it could be for a couple of days. It was going to need a specialist cleaning company to get rid of all the blood from the vicarage and the hall. The nearest would be Newcastle or Manchester and it could take days for them to arrive.
‘Go order the food whilst I sort myself out.’
Ellie stood up and went downstairs to phone their regular takeaway; she shouted, ‘Are you picking it up or do you want it delivering?’
‘Delivering, I can’t be bothered going back out again.’
While her daughter was on the phone, she checked her mobile to see if Browning had been in touch and was disappointed to see that he hadn’t. Then again it was highly likely he was still at the post-mortem; the number of injuries meant it would take much longer than usual as each and every one would need to be documented. With a bit of luck she’d have eaten her tea and let it digest before he rang.
They sat at the table to eat their food – there were so many different cartons.
‘Ellie, did you think you were feeding a rugby team? There’s enough here to last for days.’
‘Told you I was starving, and you never have food in the fridge. It will last you a couple of days: I’m looking after your welfare, Mum.’
‘Yeah, can’t say that you’re looking after my waistline very well.’
When they could no longer eat another thing, Ellie stood up and took their plates away. Then she put the lids back on the various containers and stacked them all on the kitchen worktop. Lucy stood up and went into the living room to sprawl out on the sofa; she was making the most of being told to take it easy because there was nothing else she could do.
Ellie threw herself onto the armchair. ‘So, what happened then?’
Just like that, casual, as if she was talking to one of her friends. Lucy didn’t know if she liked the fact that her daughter was acting so mature.
‘To cut a long story short I had to arrest the vicar from St Aidan’s and his wife didn’t like it. She followed me home and hit me with a cricket bat.’
Ellie’s mouth had fallen open as she stared at her mum. ‘You arrested David, and Jan battered you?’
She nodded.
‘Why did you arrest him, he’s a vicar?’
‘I’m well aware of that, but it doesn’t mean he’s above the law. It doesn’t matter who you are, if you break the law then the police will arrest you.’
‘I know that, but what did you arrest him for?’
Lucy didn’t know how much to tell her, though it had already been in the local news about his arrest.
‘He was arrested at a prostitute’s address. Did you not see the news yesterday?’
Ellie’s eyes opened as wide as her mouth. ‘Shit, no wonder Jan was mad at you.’
‘Thanks a lot for the support.’
‘I didn’t mean you deserved to be battered, Mum. It’s just I can see why she’d be mad, what a cringe up.’
‘Yeah, well it gets a whole lot worse than that.’
‘How, what could possibly make it any worse?’
‘Jan found David dead this morning.’
This time Ellie gasped. ‘Fucking hell.’
‘Ellie.’
‘Sorry, how did he die? Did he kill himself?’
‘I can’t tell you that; what I can tell you is you won’t need to go and babysit for Bella tonight because Street Saviours is cancelled for the foreseeable future.’
‘Does Nat know about it all?’
‘She knows David is dead, as do the rest of the volunteers. Ellie, I’ve been honest with you and told you stuff I wouldn’t dream of having to tell a fifteen-year-old. I need you to listen to me now, I mean listen and take notice of what I’m going to tell you. You know about the murders that I’ve been working, yes?’
She nodded.
‘We think that the killer is choosing his victims through their links to the church, so you are not to go anywhere near any of the other volunteers, and that includes Nat and Bella, until we’ve caught him. Once he’s been apprehended and in custody then you can go see them as much as you like, but I need you to promise me, until I tell you we have him that you won’t.’
‘Why haven’t you caught him?’
The accusation was like a burning hot arrow straight through her chest. Yes, why haven’t you caught him, Lucy?
‘I’m trying, I wish it was that easy. Sometimes people can be very clever, mani
pulative, secretive and very good at hiding who they really are from the people who love them. My whole team is working very hard to catch him, we’re almost there.’
‘So David was murdered by this maniac who doesn’t like people who go to church or have anything to do with the church and because of this I can’t spend time with Nat and Bella?’
‘Yes, that is right. Pretty much hit the nail on the head, but this is between you and me. I’m trusting you with some very important information here, Ells, I don’t want you phoning all your friends up or going back and telling Rosie.’
Ellie rolled her eyes. ‘As if I’d do that, I promise I won’t tell anyone.’
Lucy waited for an argument, more accusations that not only was she a pretty crap mother, but also a crap copper. They never came, Ellie nodded her head and smiled at her.
‘Don’t worry, I won’t. I’ll keep away from the church, and I wouldn’t tell Rosie if her head was on fire. I hate her. Can we get a cat?’
Lucy did a double-take; she’d been expecting an argument not a request for a pet.
‘Why would you want a cat? Who’s going to look after it? Have you asked your dad?’
‘Bella has the cutest, fluffiest cat I’ve ever seen. It’s like a giant furball. I like the way it comes and sits on my knee purring. I’ve never had a pet before.’
‘You had a goldfish.’
‘Yeah, that was really good to cuddle when I was watching Catfish. I’ll look after it. Dad said no because Rosie’s allergic to them. It could live here; you could get a cat flap for it for when you’re at work. Please?’
‘I don’t know, I’d have to think about it. The poor thing would be on its own more than it had company. Who would feed it?’
‘Me, I’d live here all the time then, aw please, Mum.’
‘I’ll think about it, give me a day or two.’ All Lucy could think about was Margaret’s decapitated cat.
