Now she gripped Hayden’s hand tighter as he attempted to pull away. The road was busy. ‘We need some fresh air. You’re wrapped up. The TV will still be there when we get back,’ she said with a sharpness to her tone that she wished she could take back.
Paul looked at her, a question on his face.
‘When we get there,’ she answered, and they headed towards the park area. Bare trees lined and filled the park. Brittle and cold. Small thoughts of life showing as shoots poked their way out of the branches.
The television was forgotten as soon as they walked through the gate and the vast space opened up for them. Elaine let Hayden slip from her grasp and Paul did the same with Halle. They ran and screamed, allowing the cold air to grasp their howls of joy from their mouths as they ran around each other. No matter how much they complained about being dragged out, once they were given the freedom of space they opened up and let go. Running, screeching, grabbing and twirling.
Elaine could see a few women walking about, chatting and laughing. They were wore running gear, Lycra leggings and T-shirts or Lycra tops, and Elaine remembered they held the park run at Pymmes Park every Saturday at nine a.m., so they’d have missed it by about half an hour. It was something she’d considered taking part in, but with the inconsistency of work she’d never taken the hobby up.
Clutching the flask mug she’d made up at home and taking refuge in its warmth, Elaine steered them over the bridge that leaned over the dull slow lake, towards the colourful park and the benches, where she sat. The wooden slats of the bench cold through her jeans.
Paul waited for her to speak, looking out at the children, who now clambered up the steps to the slide. Woollen gloves making their hands slip on the metal handrails. Progress slow. Then they were down at the bottom of the slide and running around to climb the steps again.
‘It’s work,’ said Elaine.
‘I figured as much.’
She watched the steam wind its way up into the air in front of her face. The deep smell of coffee reminding her of home, of the kitchen, of Paul marking homework at the kitchen table. ‘You know I’ve always trusted Ray, his decisions?’
‘Yeah.’
Halle pushed Hayden, even though she was the smallest, using her weight on his shoulder, wanting to get up the steps first. He took two steps back and she scrambled up the steps. Gloved hands slipping in her eagerness. A picture of innocence.
‘Something’s happened.’
Paul turned away from the two playing children and faced his wife. It wasn’t often she brought work home with her. ‘What is it?’
‘It’s complicated. But he’s hiding something big and it affects the investigation.’
‘So give me the short version. You brought me here to tell me.’ He flicked his eyes back to the children. Elaine’s had never left them.
‘We went to a memorial service for the murder victim we’re dealing with, where my suspicion was piqued by a man Ray had talked to. I took his car number plate. Later we brought a suspect in. Ray failed to ID him.’
She paused. The rest of it stuck in her throat like barbed wire. Sharp. Pointed.
How to dislodge something so painful?
‘What did the results of the number-plate check show, Elaine?’
Her focus never left the children. Her hands tightened on the cup in her lap. Trying to draw the warmth into her bones. ‘It had been pinged by an ANPR camera close to a garage that was torched, at around the time it was torched. It wasn’t the burnt car, but it’s too much of a coincidence.’
Halle and Hayden moved to the swings, kicking their legs, trying to make themselves move higher.
Paul waited.
‘The thing is, the guy Ray failed to ID was picked up as a suspect for the murder on evidence around the garage that was torched, and after he spoke to him at the memorial service.’
‘There could be a perfectly logical explanation, Elaine.’
‘Like what?’ She rounded on him. Her tone sharper than she’d wanted. The barbed wire that had been stuck in her throat, exploding out in frustration. Spitting out at her husband.
He didn’t change, didn’t pull her up on it. ‘Bad coincidence. You often tell me that bad guys use each other’s vehicles. Maybe that happened this time. But whatever it is, I doubt that Ray is tied up in the crime you’re talking about.’
Elaine put the cup on the bench between them, then placed her head in her hands and closed her eyes. Blocking out the stress she felt. ‘I know you’re right,’ she murmured through her fingers.
‘You need to talk to him.’
54
The place was loud. Kids ran in socked feet, screaming.
Ray had just walked through the door and he had the sudden urge to run back out again, screaming himself. But there was a part of him where a warmth surged. Being here, in the family pub with Helen and the kids, held a certain familiarity that he needed right now.
As they walked to a table, Helen told the children they needed to remove their shoes before they went into the climbing area. And that they were not to run while in the seating area. It was dangerous. People were carrying glasses around. She said this as a child of about six whizzed past in a blur of orange and black, like a bumblebee.
She bent down and collected Alice and Matthew’s shoes from where they’d abandoned them and they continued to a table, choosing one where they could see into the climbing area but where the decibel level created by the playing children was also louder. No wonder the seats were free and most parents took tables further away and left their kids to play, hoping they were safe. Ray never took that chance. He understood the dangers too well. Helen had often chided him for his over-cautiousness, but it was inbuilt now and he couldn’t stop it.
He’d memorised Alice and Matthew’s clothes when he saw them at the house, knowing they would be running about, leaving his sight, coming back and going again, to and fro, backwards and forwards. Alice had pigtails in but he couldn’t guarantee that other girls wouldn’t have those, so he memorised her outfit. A layered, ruffled blue skirt and white T-shirt with ruffled sleeves. All ruffled today. He also recognised the way she ran, with her right leg kicking out to the side slightly.
Matthew was a bit more difficult. Much the same as many boys his age. Jeans and a football shirt. He’d tried to get him to change his shirt and Helen had helped him in that task, understanding why he was doing it, but Matthew was adamant that he wanted to wear this one, so he’d had to bite his tongue as his own frustration grew. Helen had touched his arm to calm his frayed nerves. At least she would be with him. He wouldn’t lose his children or try to walk off with someone else’s child.
On this, their only day off, he’d asked to have the children and said he’d bring them here but then got wound up when he realised that he could get lost as he drove there or back. So not only could he lose his children while he had them in person, but he could lose them while he had them physically in his sight because he’d get lost as well. The frustration levels he felt were extreme.
During a long phone conversation the night before, where he updated Helen on the failed ID procedure, he mentioned the problem with his sense of direction and she’d offered to come with them and drive. He couldn’t thank her enough and she’d told him to stop it, to pull himself together. She was doing it for the children. This was actually one of the scenarios she had imagined helping him with when, at the hospital, she had told him she would support him with the children and this diagnosis.
Today, he was so glad she was here. He felt comfortable. Settled. For the first time in days a calmness descended on him.
He ordered a bottled beer for himself, a lime and soda for Helen and two fruit-flavoured drinks in plastic bottles for the kids.
‘So Prabhat?’ asked Helen as she looked down the menu. The food in places like this wasn’t much to write home about but that wasn’t why they’d come, it was about being together and spending time together.
‘Yeah?’
&
nbsp; ‘Rough?’
‘Let’s just say he wasn’t happy.’
Helen kept her eyes down. ‘You didn’t tell me much last night – what did you say to him, about your failure to pick him out?’
‘Millie!’ a woman screeched over them, ‘Let go of that boy’s ears!’ The boy in question was getting redder in the face by the second.
‘I told him the same as I told him the day Billy was …’ Ray looked around and lowered his voice, ‘killed. That I didn’t get close enough to see the guy, that he was running away from me so I never saw his whole face. There was nothing I could do to change the outcome.’ Millie had let go of the boy, who was now rubbing his ear, eyes bright with unshed tears.
Helen dropped the menu. Looked at Ray. ‘How do you feel?’
‘How do you think?’
‘I don’t know, that’s why I asked.’
‘I feel like hell. I saw him. He looked right at me. And now I can’t pick him out so he walks out the station. How am I supposed to reconcile that?’
Helen reached out and placed her hand on top of Ray’s. ‘You’ll get him with solid police work like you always do. Keep working, don’t give up. Keep beating yourself up and your work will suffer. You have to move forward to catch this bastard. Work hard. Focus. You can do this.’
The noise in the pub didn’t seem as loud then; people were all around them but the volume had dipped and Ray felt as though they were enclosed in their own bubble. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a girl coming out of the play area. Noticed the blue and white ruffles. Felt the warmth rush him.
His phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled his hand from under Helen’s. It was Celeste. Something in the pit of his stomach twisted.
‘Hi.’ He tried for bright. It sounded tight, even to his own ears.
‘Where are you? I thought we might do something this afternoon into this evening as you’re not at work.’
How did she know he wasn’t at work today? He didn’t remember telling her, but he must have.
‘I’m sorry, I’m already out, I have Alice and Matthew.’
There was a note of disappointment in her voice as she acknowledged that of course he must make time for his children, especially with all the hours he’d been working. Maybe she could see him later. Afterwards.
‘I’ll call –’
‘Mummy, can we eat yet? I’m hungry!’ Alice shouted as she ran over to the table.
‘Mummy?’ Celeste’s tone was sharp. Pointed. ‘Mummy is there with you?’
‘Well –’
‘I don’t understand this, Ray. Something is going on with you and I’m trying to give you time and I’m trying to understand because I believe it’s because of the accident. I think you’re mentally affected by it and you’re pushing people away as you deal with it. But what I don’t get is why Helen doesn’t get pushed away as well?’
‘It’s not the accident, Celeste, and –’
The line went dead.
55
Helen and the children dropped him back home after what few would call a relaxing afternoon, although compared to how most recent days had been, Ray thought it had been perfect.
After spending most the time running up and around, climbing frames and slides, jumping in ball pits and stuffing their faces, Alice and Matthew were now subdued in the rear seats.
Helen pulled up at the curb. ‘You’ll be okay?’ she asked as the engine ticked over. Clear that she was about to head straight off.
‘Yeah. You were right earlier. I need to get my act together and make this case, no matter the issues I’ve already come up against.’
‘And Celeste?’ Straightforward. The woman who had been married to him. Who didn’t need to pull her punches or need to worry about what he would think or say.
But Ray didn’t have an answer. He shrugged.
‘You need to at least talk to her, Ray. Let her know what’s going on and ask her for the time to work it out, rather than giving her the runaround.’
‘I can’t.’
‘Why?’
‘How do you tell someone that you don’t recognise them every single time you see them? I’ve researched this online and people lose friends because they get upset when they think they’ve been ignored.’
‘You know what they say about looking up issues online, don’t you?’
‘I know, but still. I run no more risk this way than I would if I told her. I’d rather try and sort it out in my head and at least then maybe time is on my side. If I can sort myself out, then there will be no need to tell her.’
‘You hope.’
‘Give me some credit.’
Helen looked in the back of the car. Startled, Ray checked the seat behind him.
‘Don’t worry,’ she said. ‘They’re half asleep and not listening to us.’
‘They were so quiet I forgot they were there.’
‘My point exactly. This will get out. Better you control it than it controls you.’
Ray leaned over and kissed her cheek. ‘Thank you.’ Helen inclined her head. ‘I forgot to ask,’ he smiled. ‘What’s his name?’
‘Whose name?’
‘This bloke you’re seeing.’ He kept his voice low this time.
‘Liam.’
‘And you’re still seeing him?’
Helen gave a slow gentle smile. ‘I’m still seeing him.’
‘What’s with the smile? Is something wrong?’
‘Nothing. No, nothing is wrong. Quite the opposite. It’s going really well. I like him. We’ve seen a lot of each other. As much as we can without introducing the kids yet, anyway.’
Ray turned his face away, looked out of the side window a moment. Watched a couple of boys kick a football down the street, probably heading to a park.
‘What would he think about today?’
‘He’d be fine because he knows we have a good relationship because we have great kids. I told him all about us before we got started so he knew what he was getting into.’
‘He sounds very new-age.’
‘Not a caveman like you, then.’ She nudged him with her elbow. He grunted and she laughed at him again, resulting in another grunt for her trouble.
He turned to the back seat again, raised his voice. ‘See you, kids. Thanks for a great afternoon.’ He needed to get out. Get home.
Their faces lit up. ‘Can we do it again, Daddy?’
He looked at Helen, who regarded him calmly. ‘I don’t see why not,’ he said. Though things were changing.
The apartment had a chill to it. Ray switched the heating on, grabbed a bottled beer from the fridge, dropped onto the sofa and opened the laptop, waited for it to wake.
Yes, he’d told Helen he would work the case even harder, but that didn’t mean he would only work it from the office. He’d failed spectacularly and now he did need to pull out all the stops.
It was a dark and dangerous world he was about to step into, he recognised that. It was unknown. A path untested. The ground beneath his feet precarious. But it was one he had to tread.
Carefully. If this was to work.
As he hit the enter key, the screen before him changed from the banal-looking search engine page of dark net and morphed into the page of the address he’d keyed in. The address for Dedit.
Yes, he’d looked at the page before, but tonight he was going to properly step inside.
Ray clicked through to the section of the site for people who wanted to sell their organs. There were pages of information. Clean, sharp, clear information pages, as though this were a legitimate website and this was a legitimate and ordinary medical issue they were talking about. It spoke about the health and safety of their clients being of the first importance. It spoke of clean lines of transfer for funds. It spoke of the best in medical care and aftercare. Then it asked for your details if you were interested, including, if you knew it, your blood group, though not to worry if not, as they could test you with ease and speed.
The beer felt cool as it
slid down his throat. Ray tipped his head back, necking the bottle, eyes on the ceiling. His mouth was dry so he drank the lot.
This was a huge step he was about to take.
He slammed the empty bottle down at the side of the laptop. His fingers hovered over the keys.
A car horn blared outside, breaking the silence inside the apartment. Breaking his uncertainty, his … fear.
He clicked the mouse pad to wake the cursor over the first box and typed Neville Gordon in the name box.
Shit, he’d need to remember that, and it was such a random name. He jumped up and paced around looking for paper and pen. Then paced some more before he returned to the now sleeping laptop.
He could do this. He had to do this.
Neville Gordon. 41. Interested in information only at this point.
No point coming across too eager. Didn’t want to put a beacon on his head that he was a cop.
56
Elaine walked into the incident room the morning after their rare day off. She’d set her alarm half an hour earlier than normal, showered herself before getting the kids up ten minutes earlier than she normally did, and still managed to find herself rushing through the door to get into work on time. The children seemed to sense that they had longer to mess about, and no matter how much she jollied them along they shuffled and moaned and griped at each other, and it turned into a day like any other.
Standing, she watched Ray from her desk. She could see he was reading from his computer monitor and making notes in his book. Catching up on the skeleton staff that were here yesterday no doubt, those continuing with the ongoing inquiries that could still be done. There was no way he would close the investigation for a day off, but he did take care of his staff and had noticed they needed a break. Elaine couldn’t argue that she felt better for having yesterday at home with her family.
Dead Blind Page 18
