“There are broken plant pots all over the place so I can’t get this thing in there.” She tapped the arm of her wheelchair. The cumbersome piece of equipment did indeed take up a lot of room, and no doubt with her mobility impaired as it was, cleaning up the mess left by a vandal was a little beyond Mrs M’s abilities right now.
“What did they take, Mrs M?”
“Just some roses, from what I can see. My cannabis plants are down at the far end of the greenhouse, so I can’t get in there to check them, but they don’t appear to have been touched from a distance.”
“All your roses?”
Mrs M shook her head. “Doesn’t look like it. I mean they’ve all been knocked over, so they’ll no doubt be dead by now, but only the yellow ones seem to have been de-headed. Not the pinks, oranges, or reds. Bizarre.” She shook her head sadly. “The yellows were my favourites, you know?”
Gina nodded. “Do you mind if I take a look? Maybe I could go and check things out better for you.”
Mrs M’s face seemed to light up, and she sat a little straighter in her chair. “Would you?”
“Of course.” She needed to see for herself. Flowers might not mean anything. But stolen flowers…leaving damage in their wake…well, Gina was no expert, but that didn’t sound too good.
“That would be wonderful, thank you.”
Gina followed behind her wheelchair, through the house and out of the back door. There was a wide concrete path between the door and the greenhouse. Everything had been specially adapted to allow her to move freely between the two places. The garden was surrounded by a six-foot wooden fence all the way around, with clematis, climbing ivy, climbing roses, and laurel growing up and around it. It was a beautiful garden. Truly. Gina knew that during the summer now, Mrs M had a small army of gardeners to help her tend to it. But it had been her creation years ago. Now all she could work with—sometimes—were the plants she could grow in pots, on easy to reach benches, in the greenhouse.
Mrs M nodded towards the door. “Help yourself.”
“How did they get in?” Gina asked.
“Must have climbed over the fence. The gate’s padlocked and the security light is on a sensor. If it comes on, one of the neighbours is at the window, looking what’s going on.” She laughed bitterly. “I wish I were well enough to be up to giving them anything worth gossiping about.”
Gina pushed open the frosted glass door and gasped. Shattered clay was strewn across the room, with soil spilled everywhere and the roots of the poor plants exposed.
“A mess, isn’t it?” Mrs M’s voice was quiet, almost cutting itself off as it vacated her lips.
Gina nodded, but made her way to the back of the twenty-foot long room to the plants she could see at the back on a shelf, covered by UV lamps and silver foil. It was a bizarre-looking set up, but Mrs M seemed to know what she was doing, and the plants were clearly thriving.
It was the roses Gina had needed to see. And now she knew. Without a doubt in her mind, this was where those fifty yellow roses had come from. There was one half-open bud left on the floor that she picked up and smelled. The fragrance was the same. Not a definitive test, not one that would stand up in court…but it was enough for Gina. “They’re all fine, Mrs M. Do you need any of them?”
“To the left. The blacked-out section, there should be some dry hanging on a hook. If you could bring me a little of that, I would be very grateful.”
Gina quickly located the dried vegetal matter, wrapped it in a plastic bag she saw on a shelf, and carried it out to Mrs M.
“Bless you, child.” Mrs M laid the bag across her lap and turned her chair around.
“I feel terrible about your greenhouse. I’m not much good with plants, I manage to kill pretty much anything I’ve ever tried to grow, but would you let me send Will around this afternoon to at least clear up the greenhouse so you can get in and tend to the plants he can save for you?”
Mrs M shook her head. “You don’t have to do that, Gina. I know you’ve got to have your work cut out for you over there. What with Connie gone and leaving it all so up in the air, and then that bloody Sarah and her merry band of idiots dropping you in the shit.” She waved a hand—well, a little bit. “No, you don’t have to do that.”
“Honestly, Mrs M, I’d feel better if you did. We’ve closed most things down for the winter, and I’ve got Will doing mostly busy work right now. He spends as much time babysitting Sammy as doing anything else right now. He’d probably be glad of the variety. I know he hates being cooped up in the office or the information centre.”
“You’re sure?”
“Absolutely.” It was the only way Gina could think to make it even slightly up to the woman. Those plants, her greenhouse, they’d been wrecked because of her.
“Why?” She led them back into the house and indicated a chair for Gina to sit on.
Gina debated what to tell her. Did she tell her the truth and risk others learning what was going on? Could she trust Mrs M to keep it to herself? Something told her she could, and it was her property that had been ransacked after all.
Gina dropped into the chair and sighed. “A few days ago, I was delivered a huge bouquet of roses. Yellow roses.”
Mrs M watched her as she started to prepare the marijuana Gina had retrieved for her. “Do you mind?” She indicated her hands.
“Not at all.”
Mrs M nodded and waited for Gina to carry on.
“There was a note that came with them, not signed with a name, but the message was one that could have come from my girlfriend, Kate. I thought the roses were from her.”
“Could you pass me that packet of cigarette papers please, dear?” She pointed to a Rizla packet on the table beside Gina.
She handed it over.
“Thanks. Go on.”
“When I thanked Kate for them, she told me she hadn’t sent them.”
“Secret admirer?”
Gina shook her head. “I’m the village pariah, Mrs M. They all blame me for everything that’s gone wrong.”
“What with the fishing fleet and the drugs and those bloody Robbinses?”
“Yes.”
“Then they’re even bigger nitwits than I ever thought.”
Gina laughed. “Thanks, but that doesn’t seem to matter to them. I’m still persona non grata. So no, no secret admirer. I thought at first it might have been some sort of sick message from Ally.”
“Ah. Yes, I can see why you might think that. But not now, I take it?”
“No.” She fished the card from her pocket and showed it to Mrs M. “Nothing to identify the florist or anything like that. I don’t think they were bought.”
“You think someone stole my roses to give them to you?”
“Yes.”
“Did you recognise the person who delivered them?”
Gina concentrated and tried to pull up the memory of the delivery. She remembered staring at the huge array of blooms in a vase, with a small card protruding from the top. She remembered barely tearing her gaze from them as she’d scribbled her name on a piece of paper on a clipboard, but nothing about what was on the page. Nothing about what the delivery guy was wearing. Nothing about his face. All she was sure of was that it was a guy…maybe young…slim…maybe.
“I don’t really remember seeing him. I was too focused on the flowers and how beautiful they were. And how thoughtful Kate was to send them to me.” She rubbed her hands over her face. “I know, I know. I should pay more attention, but, I mean, why would you? Flowers are a lovely gesture—”
“And you’re in a new relationship, and getting flowers from your girlfriend is not exactly a bad thing, is it?”
“Exactly.”
“And now?”
“I’m worried about what they mean.”
“It could be a secret admirer.”
“The note doesn’t read like someone who’s trying to win my affections, it reads like someone who thinks they already have. Hence why I thought it was Kate.
”
“I see.” She sprinkled dried leaves across the cigarette paper she thumbed from the pack. “I wasn’t going to bother with the police. They have bigger things to worry about right now. But if this is a bigger thing than just a few broken plant pots, I’m happy to give them a call and wait. It’s not like I’m going out anywhere.”
Gina smiled sadly. “I understand, and I think you’re right. There are bigger concerns. Would you mind if I took some pictures, though? Then I can show Kate and talk to her about this idea. See if she thinks this is something for her to bear in mind if…if…”
“If anything else happens?”
Gina swallowed. “Yeah.”
“Go ahead.”
“Thanks.” Gina quickly went back to the greenhouse, phone in hand, and snapped off pictures from every angle of the room, panoramas to give Kate the full layout, close-ups of each broken pot, a footprint she found in the dirt, and smudges of greasy fingerprints on the glass. She had no idea if they would be of any use…but it couldn’t hurt.
When she got back to the kitchen, a fog of cannabis-laden smoke filled the room. Mrs M’s eyes had begun to take on the glassy look of relief. Gina didn’t want to hang around. She was pretty sure she’d get high off the fumes before long.
“Mrs M, I’m sorry to have to ask for another favour, but would you mind keeping all that to yourself? I don’t want the village gossiping about it and it getting back to Sammy. She’s had a rough time lately, and I don’t want her to worry about me if there’s no reason to.”
Mrs M took another pull on the joint and nodded, her body already seeming so much more relaxed than just a few minutes ago. “Of course, Gina. The little scamp doesn’t need to be worried about things like that. How’s she doing, anyway? I bet she’s taking it hard, huh? Her dad going to prison.”
Gina was grateful that the vast majority of Sammy’s involvement wasn’t public knowledge and wanted to ensure it stayed that way. “Yes, they were close. And I know she misses him.”
“She’ll bounce back. Kids always do.”
“I’m sure.” Gina put her hand on the door handle. “I’ll send Will over as soon as he’s finished what he’s doing now. Shouldn’t be too long.”
Mrs M waved her hand, sending smoke curling in circles in the air. “No rush. I’m not going anywhere.”
Except off to space, Gina thought as she let herself out of the house and made sure the door was shut tight behind her. She blinked rapidly, then rubbed at her eyes. The odour clung to her skin and clothes. There was no way she was going to Sammy’s nativity play stinking like she’d been in some sort of drug party.
Shower. Change of clothes. Work. Send Will gardening…ish. Nativity play. Food. Not necessarily in that order. Her stomach growled.
Okay, definitely not in that order.
Chapter 16
“Simon, give me good news,” Kate said as she sidled up to Grimshaw’s workstation and peered over his shoulder.
“Three-quarters done. Come back this afternoon.” He didn’t even look up at her as he scribbled more notes across a legal pad.
“What happened to good news?”
“I said this afternoon, not tomorrow.”
“Zain Mallam.” He stepped forward, hand held out for Grimshaw to shake.
Grimshaw still didn’t look up.
Mallam frowned, let his hand drop, and continued, “Perhaps I can be of use.”
“I’m sure you can, if you all piss off and leave me to it.”
Kate sniggered as Grimshaw scribbled some more. His handwriting was almost as unreadable as the Arabic he was deciphering, as far as Kate was concerned, and she wondered if he was using some sort of shorthand, or code…or a drunken spider.
“Mr Grimshaw, I’m sure I have skills that would be useful to you in translating the diary. I’m fluent in Urdu.”
Grimshaw dropped his pen on top of the pad and looked up at them. He smiled sardonically at Kate and rolled his eyes. “How about Pascal, or Joomla, or Script? Fluent in any of those too?”
Mallam cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, I understood that you were translating the perpetrator’s diary into English.”
“Nah, I let the computer do that. Now I’m translating computer code into English.”
“I see.”
Kate wanted to laugh at the uncomfortable look on Mallam’s face. Prick.
“Brannon, I’ll fire this up to you as soon as I get it finished.”
“I appreciate that. Any chance you could send me anything you’ve already done? Even if it’s just a bit, it could help us to get a head start on all this material sooner rather than later.”
Grimshaw crossed his arms over his chest and opened his mouth.
Kate knew he was going to tell her where to go. She leant in close to him, dropped her voice so only he could hear. “You heard we arrested Ahmed, right?”
He nodded.
“Bastard implied that there were more bombs out there. Nothing concrete. Nothing we can prove. Yet.” She pulled back and saw the shock in his eyes and leant in again. “This is the best lead we have in trying to find out if there are more or if he’s just trying to scare the shit out of me.”
Grimshaw leant back in his chair, pulled in a huge lungful of air, and exhaled loudly through his mouth. “Dirty, Kate.”
“True, Simon.”
He stared at her. “How’s Stella?”
“Being released today. Want me to pass on a message when I see her?”
“Yeah, tell her to get back here quick. Someone needs to put the reins back on you.” He hunkered over his computer and clacked loudly at the keys. “I’ll see what I can do,” he said, dismissing them.
In Grimshaw code, that meant he’d just sent what he had to her e-mail address. Jackson and Mallam followed behind her as she walked out of the crime lab.
“He’s hampering our investigation,” Mallam said when they cleared the doors and pulled his phone from his pocket. “I could have his credentials revoked and him in custody—”
Kate pulled her own phone from her pocket, refreshed her e-mails, and showed Mallam the screen. “How is he hampering the investigation? He’s already sent me the documents he’s finished translating.” She rolled her eyes at him. “I’ll print these when we get back upstairs so we can all have a copy to start going through.”
“I’d suggest we take a section each,” Vinny added. “Get through it quicker.”
“Good idea,” Kate said, even though she knew she’d read every page. It was all well and good going over the material quickly when they were looking for a specific lead, but she knew it was an easy way for details to be missed. Little codes and references that got shorthanded and would mean something significant in the context of the whole diary, but nothing as part of a single page…those were the details she wanted to find. Those were the ones that could make all the difference.
Mallam grumbled the entire way back upstairs and was still grumbling after Kate had printed off copies for them all and handed them out. “For God’s sake, shut up.” She dropped the pages in front of him and tossed a marker pen at him. “We’ve got work to get on with.”
Her phone pinged as she settled in at her desk and started on the first page—a text message from Gina telling her about the private nativity viewing she was going to get later. A smile slid onto her cheeks.
Wish I could be there in person. I’m sure she’ll be brilliant. She’s such a natural when it comes to drama, I don’t know why the Oscars haven’t started rolling in already. xx
She snickered as she pressed send then pulled the cap off her own highlighter pen. Vinny, Mel, and Mallam had their heads down, pens at work. Still there was no sign of Gareth. If he wasn’t dead already, he would be when Timmons got done with him.
Dear Diary,
There was a new girl at college today, Saba. She’s in the year above me, but she joined a group of us at lunchtime in the cafeteria. She knows a lot of people already. She is from a good family, and her hus
band has introduced her to everyone. I think she knows more people than I do.
Kate quickly checked the date of the page. Only three months ago. When Ayeshydi returned from Raqqa. She wondered where Saba had been before then.
She invited me to mosque with her, and to meet her husband. I think we will be good friends, Saba and I. Good friends.
The innocence of the girl in the page seemed so at odds with the image of the girl she’d seen on the CCTV footage. The girl displaying her vest and crying “for Allah” as she destroyed herself and twenty-one innocent people. Where did this girl go? When did this Nadia become that Nadia? And did it really only begin just a few short months ago?
Each page she read took Kate further and further into Nadia’s life and into her mind and led her step-by-step down the journey from innocent Nadia to confused Nadia. Nadia, whose confusion was twisted into anger and then hatred, her innocent trust abused by those who should have nurtured it rather than betrayed it.
“She was in love with Ishman Ayeshydi,” Vinny said, holding up one of his pages. “Says she knows she’s going to hell for loving another woman’s husband but can’t help herself. Seems like he barely even notices her, but she would, and I quote, ‘do anything for him’.”
“Bastard,” Mel cursed.
“When was that?” Mallam asked.
“A month ago.”
“Anything yet on a location?”
“Nope,” Vinny said.
Mel and Kate both shook their heads, and Mallam sighed.
“Fabulous.”
Gareth Collier chose that moment to waltz through the doors of the station, and Timmons’s voice rose above the din.
“My office. Now.” His head and shoulders leant around the door frame and looked like they were hanging in mid-air. Collier blanched, and Timmons’s face had gone puce. Again.
“Traffic,” Vinny said, trying to guess what Collier’s punishment was going to be.
Mallam shook his head. “Picking up body parts.”
“They’ve already finished that lovely task.” Kate turned another page. “Surveillance. I just hope I don’t get stuck with it too.”
Mel sniggered. “The joys of a rookie partner, hey?”
The Last First Time Page 19
