Damaged

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Damaged Page 4

by Martina Cole


  Bella placed a hand over her husband’s shoulders and hugged him to her. ‘It is a bit of a mess. But your mum seemed very certain – and she would know, I suppose.’

  Joseph didn’t answer her; he was well aware that his mum had had more than her fair share of men over the years. Not that he would disrespect her memory by saying that too often, but facts had to be faced.

  ‘There’s a part of me that wants it to be true because I always wondered, you know? But she would never talk about it so I assumed that whoever he was had not been good to her. Plus she was always enough for me. I didn’t feel hard done by, if that makes sense.’

  Bella smiled at him gently. She was under no illusions about her mother-in-law. But she wasn’t too impressed to be finding out that Joseph’s father was a well-known criminal; although she was too tactful to say that, of course. Still, she couldn’t help but imagine what effect it would have on her children, both of whom were in private schools. Bella, although she tried to pretend otherwise, was a snob.

  Instead she said quietly, ‘Well, you can decide what to do once you find out for definite. Sufficient to the time thereof, eh?’

  Joseph patted her hand gently, and watched her walk from the room. He guessed that she wasn’t exactly thrilled with his alleged father’s rather dubious reputation. But that was her problem. Anyway, he wondered what her reaction would be to his father’s lavish lifestyle; he had a feeling that might go a long way towards her accepting him into their lives.

  If Patrick was his father, of course. There was definitely some connection there, even though he couldn’t explain it. In fact, he knew that if anyone else had said it he would have put it down to fanciful stupidity. But he could tell that Patrick felt the same way.

  He glanced at his daughter’s photo on his desk and thought again about the pictures of what might turn out to be his murdered sister. Two peas in a pod they were, but time – and that DNA test – would tell.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Danny Foster was not at all sure how he felt about this long-lost son turning up out of the blue, and he said as much to Patrick. ‘This is surely a bit suspect, though, Pat. You positive he ain’t a chancer?’

  Patrick smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes. He suddenly realised he wanted someone to agree with him about what he saw as a fantastic stroke of luck. He had filed Ruby away many years ago, ashamed of what he had done to Renée, especially as she had been so ill at the time. But, as Kate said sympathetically, he had needed succour – a word only she would use. He had nearly had to look it up in the dictionary! Now it seemed that his little fling had borne fruit and he was equally thrilled and anxious in case it turned out to be a false alarm. Old Ruby could be economical with the truth when the fancy took her.

  It was at times like this he missed his old right-hand man, Willy Gabney; he had been the best friend he had ever had, and he had never got over his death. Willy had been one of the few people, other than Kate, that Patrick had ever trusted one hundred per cent. He might not have been a contender for Mastermind but he had been shrewd enough in his own streetwise way.

  ‘No, I’d lay money he ain’t a chancer. Ruby, on the other hand, wasn’t exactly averse to the odd porky on occasions, but this is too big a lie for anyone. Either she genuinely believed it or got her dates wrong. Anyway, Kate is sorting the DNA test so it will all be kosher.’

  Danny nodded. He wanted to be pleased for Patrick, but he hated himself for wondering where all this would leave him. He had been Patrick Kelly’s golden boy for a long time, and he was recognised as such. He couldn’t help but question what this O’Loughlin bloke wanted. In Danny Foster’s world you always had an angle, and he had a feeling he knew exactly what this cunt’s angle was. He was far too shrewd to say that now, of course, especially with Pat Kelly going all weak-kneed at the thought of grandchildren. He would have to bide his time.

  ‘Well, Pat, my advice is to get those results as quickly as possible, mate. Then you can start to make sense of it all.’

  Patrick smiled a real smile this time; this was what he wanted to hear, this was what he needed. Action had always been his byword. He understood why Danny wasn’t too thrilled, but he would make sure the lad knew that he was still as indispensable as he had always been.

  If Joseph O’Loughlin was his son, he was a corporate lawyer and would not want to go within a donkey’s roar of his businesses, and that suited Patrick Kelly right down to the ground. He was more or less legit, but sometimes old habits died hard. And with Danny to take the blame, he still had the luxury of a duck and a dive – and he wasn’t giving that up for anyone.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Kate was going through the file that Annie had given her when she heard Patrick come home and she glanced at the clock, amazed to see it was gone midnight. Oh, she missed this at times; the sheer energy needed for a big investigation always set her adrenaline pumping. Like Annie she wanted this bastard caught as quickly as possible.

  It was unbelievable to think that a poor child had been taken and treated so brutally by a fellow human being. But, unfortunately, it wasn’t as rare as people believed; there were so many weirdos out there and, thanks to the internet, they had a forum for their particular foibles. It was almost as if they had permission to act so badly because there were like-minded individuals out there at the touch of a computer keyboard. It never ceased to amaze her how many people accessed what Margaret Dole called the darknet. A place where every depravity was accessible, and anything and anyone could be bought and paid for. It was depressing just thinking about it.

  The door slammed shut and Kate guessed that Patrick had had a few drinks. She was annoyed, because she knew he had not used his driver tonight, but she decided against saying anything until she ascertained his state of mind. This Joseph O’Loughlin business had thrown them both.

  ‘All right, darling!’

  She smiled slightly; he was definitely a bit the worse for wear. When he had a few drinks he always talked to her as if she was in another room, even though she was less than three feet away from him.

  ‘Yes, darling, and you?’

  He laughed heartily at her tone. ‘Never better. I had a few with Danny and then I popped into The Oaks to see some of the old crowd. I knew you and Annie wouldn’t want me around. Bad fucking business, girl. I don’t know how you stomach it, darling.’

  Kate’s heart went out to him. She was all too aware that Mandy and her death would be haunting his dreams again. This kind of murder always brought it back; she knew that for the people who experienced such depravity the memories were never far from the surface. Christ knew, they rarely watched TV because so much of the content was about serial killers, especially on American-made shows.

  ‘Fucking nut them all, I would. Yorkshire Ripper, fucking Rose West and that cunt Ian Brady. Wipe them off the face of the fucking earth!’ He poured himself a generous brandy and slumped down on to the sofa.

  She watched sadly as he lit a large cigar and, going to his side, she slipped an arm around his shoulder comfortingly. ‘I’m sorry, Pat. I should have gone to see Annie. I realise this just brings it all back for you, darling.’

  He shook his head vehemently. ‘No! It’s OK. I like to think of you and her catching this ponce. Hopefully before he harms anyone else. It’s just, you are right – it does bring it all back. But then again, to be honest, it’s never that far away anyway, my love. I’ve just learned to keep a lid on it over the years. But there are still days when I want to howl at the moon, even though I know there’s nothing to be gained. My girl, my lovely girl, is gone and she won’t ever be coming back, no matter what. It’s just been about learning to function without her in my life. Some days I manage that better than others, that’s the truth.’ He tossed back the brandy in one quick gulp and got up to replenish his glass. ‘But I can’t deny I lay there some nights imagining I have Markham and what I would do to him if I had the fucking chance. I frighten myself sometimes with the punishments I think up.
Now that poor kid’s family have to go through the same thing, and that’s what makes me so fucking angry. Fourteen, her whole life in front of her, and some piece of shit decided to take her and destroy her—’

  She heard the catch in his throat and tightened her arms around him and held him as he cried. This wasn’t the first time, and she knew it would not be the last. But his tears made him more of a man in her eyes than he would ever know.

  Chapter Eighteen

  He looked at the pictures and smiled to himself. Oh, Kylie Barlow didn’t look so fucking clever now, did she? Her eyes were terrified – the eyes that always looked so innocent and good in the pictures on her Facebook page. Those pictures disgusted him. Her newly developed breasts were on show even in her school uniform, she was covered in make-up, and her hair clearly coloured even at her age!

  He blamed the parents. Foolish people, living useless lives, wanting to be their children’s friends. How many times had he read on those Facebook posts ‘my mum, and my best friend’? It was sickening; there was a cancer in this society, and he hated that no one else could see it – no one except him.

  Were these people so fucking stupid that they needed the validation of their own children? They allowed them to dress and act like grown women before they had even been a child, as though they were some kind of beautiful reflection of themselves. He shook his head in abject disbelief at the sheer idiocy of these so-called adults, these parents who allowed their daughters to advertise their wares on the internet.

  Well, if the invitation was there, he was going to take them up on it. It stood to reason that if he didn’t, someone else would. That was the law of the streets. More to the point, that was the law of the internet, whose streets were faceless and nameless and allowed you access to anyone’s most intimate details.

  He lay in his bed, admiring his photographs and smiling happily to himself.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Destiny Wallace was just fourteen years old but she looked at least nineteen or twenty – and that was in her school uniform. Annie couldn’t help but wonder if evolution was to blame, because most of the girls in this particular group all looked like clones of each other. Well, or of Kim Kardashian or another famous person, famous for no other reason than that they were famous for basically doing fuck-all constructive.

  Even now, in this basic setting, Annie noticed that this child-woman was making sure she made the correct impression on the people around her. It was fascinating to behold the lowered eyes, the hands clasped gently in her lap, and the long shapely legs crossed at the ankles demurely. Well, Annie had seen all her Facebook and Instagram pictures, and she knew this girl could project sex and promise in a selfie without even trying. She swallowed down her irritation and forced herself to smile; she had to remember that this girl had lost one of her dearest friends in terrible circumstances and, as Kate had always explained, grief took different people to different places. It was a coping mechanism, that was all. Destiny’s seemed to be acting like Mary Poppins and with a butter-wouldn’t-melt look.

  Destiny’s mum, who was in her middle thirties, looked like a clone of her daughter, from the carefully styled hair to the perfect make-up and, as she squeezed her daughter’s shoulder, Annie felt a moment’s shame at how she was judging these people. There was obvious love and affection between them, especially when the girl grasped her mother’s hand tightly and held on to it.

  ‘I know we’ve talked to you before, Destiny, but you were very distraught at the time, and so now we would like to speak to you again. But this time in more detail, sweetheart, if that’s OK?’

  Destiny smiled tremulously and Annie could finally glimpse the fourteen-year-old frightened girl behind the mask, and she sighed inwardly as she said calmly, ‘So, can you go through the last time you saw Kylie? And please remember that anything, no matter how insignificant, could be very useful to me and my colleagues.’

  Destiny nodded and looked up at the ceiling as if really concentrating. ‘After the bell – our last lesson was maths, which we all hate! – we collected our things from the lockers, phones and stuff, because we aren’t allowed them in class for some reason. Then Kylie and me and Andrea walked home, as we always do. Me and Kylie said goodbye to Andrea at Beresford Gardens, where she lives, and then we walked to my house, but Kylie didn’t come in because we were all meeting later on to go to the precinct to look in the shops. I said “see you later” and she went. We met up later, as usual, and we went to the precinct, got a Starbucks and looked around the shops. There was nothing different.’

  ‘What about the next morning?’

  Destiny shrugged. ‘When she didn’t knock for me, I tried ringing her but she didn’t answer. I assumed she wasn’t well, or had wangled the day off, you know. I didn’t worry too much. Not until her mum and dad rang and said they hadn’t seen her and that she had left for school. Then, obviously, I started to get worried because, you know, she wasn’t at school, was she?’

  She burst into tears then at the enormity of what had happened to her friend and Annie watched as her mother held her tightly and talked quietly to her, calming her and probably thanking God that it was Kylie and not her own child that had been murdered.

  ‘I know you’re upset but I need to ask you, Destiny, did anyone approach you while you were in the precinct? Did you see anyone watching you, or did anyone try and talk to any of you?’

  Destiny wiped her eyes delicately with a tissue, careful not to smear her make-up, and once more Annie felt a glimmer of annoyance.

  ‘No one unusual. We saw the regular people, you know – boys from our school, some of the girls in our year. There was nothing unusual about any of it.’

  Andrea had said exactly the same thing. The CCTV had shown nothing untoward either. That was grainy at best, most of the time, but no one had seemed to be following the girls or taking undue interest.

  Annie looked down at her notes and said casually, ‘So you saw Michael Stotter, Stephen Carter and Todd Richards from the year above – is that correct?’

  Destiny nodded, reddening slightly. ‘Yeah, Kylie and me have known Stephen since we were kids so we hang out with him and some of the others sometimes. We all got our drinks together, some of the boys went off to the cinema, I think. It was just a normal school night in this boring dump.’

  Annie sighed, she knew the girl was telling the truth; whoever had been watching Kylie had been so unobtrusive as to have been invisible to these girls, and he had taken her the next morning. There was a ten-minute walk from Kylie’s house to Destiny’s. In those ten minutes someone had obviously abducted her. Somehow, somebody had either forced or talked her into going with them. Kylie’s parents were both in the clear, so it wasn’t close to home.

  Annie sighed again. No one just disappeared, not in this day and age. Did they?

  Chapter Twenty

  Patrick was nervous, and that was not lost on Kate – in fact, she had never seen him like this before. Joseph and his family were due to arrive any moment, and Megan McFee was ready and willing to do the DNA tests for her old friend Kate. If truth be told, she was fascinated by this whole set-up – it was like something from a book, and she was loving it! Not that she would say that, of course, but it was very intriguing.

  Megan remembered when Patrick and Kate had first got together and the whole police force had been utterly astounded at the audacity and – if she was honest – admiring of how Kate had managed to get away with it all. But then she had proven herself a valuable asset in more ways than one over the years; she was what one male officer had once referred to as a ‘legend in her own lunchtime’. She had shown she had her creds over the years.

  As they waited, Megan sipped at her rather splendid red wine and smiled at Kate, who rolled her eyes subtly.

  When the gates finally opened and Joseph’s car rolled on to the drive, Patrick was out of his seat and rushing towards the front door like a teenager about to go on his first date.

  Kate followed him
and watched silently as Joseph and his family exited the car and looked around them in wonder. Kate understood their awe. She had felt it herself on more than one occasion; it was a very impressive property. Kate’s eyes alighted on a small woman with a very pretty face and beautiful hair. She had a strange feeling about her, as though she knew instinctively that she wasn’t going to like her. She quickly told herself to stop being so fanciful and see how the day went.

  The children drew her eye next. They were handsome kids and both looked to be excited by what they were experiencing. It was the boy who really caught her attention; he was like a young Patrick – even had the same unruly hair with the double crown that made him look dishevelled unless he had it tamed regularly at the barber’s.

  Patrick ushered them inside and, as they were all introducing themselves, Kate suddenly felt out of place, which was ridiculous as this was her own home. She blamed the feeling on Bella O’Loughlin, who barely touched her hand when introduced and immediately turned her attention to Patrick. But Patrick had eyes for no one except the children, who both apparently thought they were simply coming for a lovely day out at their daddy’s friend’s house.

  Amanda smiled widely, saying happily, ‘Is it true we can swim here? I can swim, you know, properly.’

  Patrick was almost drinking her in with his eyes as he said gaily, ‘Of course you can. Follow me, kids, and I’ll take you to the cabana where you can get changed and I’ll arrange some refreshments for us all.’

 

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