Time To Play

by KA Richardson

  As he put his hand back on her cheek, she pulled her head away, shaking her head vehemently from side to side. Please let me go, please, just let me go. I won’t tell anyone, I swear. She felt herself whimper, her breath quickening as her body went into a panic. Within seconds she was hyperventilating, unable to stop the reaction as she struggled to draw breath. Black spots appeared in her vision as her panic grew, and suddenly, it all went black.

  Ryhope, Sunderland – 8 November

  He hadn’t expected that; the blood flying from her mouth and covering his grey trousers with red spots. He knew they would wash out, but still, it wasn’t pleasant. Maybe he should invest in some clothes just for use out here. That way he wouldn’t have to worry that someone would see.

  Working methodically, he cleaned up the blood from the floor, putting the cloth in the bin under the workbench. He wiped down the chair and replaced the mallet on its hook on the wall.

  Finally, he opened the cage and placed a salad bowl, a sandwich, water and a section of a strip of paracetamol inside.

  And now he sighed deeply. He knew he would sleep tonight. There was rarely a night he didn’t sleep, but he didn’t particularly want to. He had a sudden urge to go to a bar and get shit faced. It had been a long time since he’d been so drunk, he’d managed to force himself to forget everything. The last time had been about three years previously, and he’d been so drunk he couldn’t even remember where he lived. He’d sat in the taxi and giggled to himself as the metre had run onward, the taxi driver charging for every minute he couldn’t remember. Eventually the woman he’d picked up in the bar had told the taxi driver her address and had let him go with her. He’d woken up the next morning in a strange bed, with a strange woman lying beside him and no recollection of how he’d even got there.

  Maybe getting drunk was a bad idea. He had so little control over his life; he definitely didn’t need to lose the control he had over himself now as well.

  He rubbed a hand across his face, feeling the initial stage of the migraine progress into what was going to become a whopper. Locking the door behind him, he acknowledged it was time for his medication. It was sleep he needed, not alcohol.

  Decision made, he headed home.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Alleyway, Sunderland City Centre – 9 November

  A li pulled the car over alongside the two marked vehicles that were already in the alleyway. He and Charlie clambered out, signed in with the loggist stood beside the police tape that worked as a cordon, and made their way over to the body.

  ‘Wow, looks like he’s had a number done on him. How’d his lip end up like that?’ Ali asked the pathologist, Nigel Evans, who had just arrived at the scene. He’d seen the gaping wound across the male’s neck, of course, but there was just something off about his lip. It was hanging, looked like it had been ripped.

  ‘Give me a few minutes to look over him. Don’t want to jump to any assumptions.’

  Ali nodded and made his way over to the uniformed sergeant. ‘Harry, how’s things? What have we got here then?’

  ‘Body dump I reckon, guv. His throat’s been cut, but no way he bled out here. ID in his pocket says he’s Daniel Burton, lives over Southwick way. I’ve got someone heading to the home address now, unless you wanna do the notification?’

  ‘No thanks, I’ll let your guy handle that. I’ll see what happens next then head over later. He married, do we know?’

  ‘Not married, no, but he lives with his girlfriend and their baby. PNC shows warnings for drugs, but that was a few years back.’

  ‘No problem, we’ll be looking into every angle. Wonder who he pissed off? His face is a mess.’

  ‘Rats,’ muttered Harry under his breath.

  ‘Rats? What do you mean?’

  ‘Some of the wounds look like gnaw marks. Attended a death years ago. Rat breeder had had a stroke in the shed where he kept the horrid little things. He was still alive, and they’d just eaten him. He was found a few days later. When I got there, a huge white one crawled out of a hole in his gut. Was disgusting, guv. He’d cared for them since they were babies, always handled them and made sure they were friendly. Then they turned on him in his moment of need. He haemorrhaged and bled out from the wounds.’

  Ali felt his lip curl. ‘Rats? That’s gross. You really think that’s what happened to him?’

  ‘Honestly, don’t know, guv. Looks that way to me. Guess we’ll find out in the PM.’

  Ali nodded thoughtfully. He hoped it would end up being later this afternoon and not tomorrow. He was finally on his rest days and he had every intention of hiding away, possibly even going home to see his mum. Alex was due back today, so there was no reason for him not to go. He’d even been invited for dinner at Cass and Alex’s cottage that evening.

  Making his way back over to the body, he waited for Nigel to finish looking around.

  ‘I’ve got a slot this afternoon for a PM as long as the mortuary technician can get prepped in time. It’ll be 2 p.m. at Sunderland Royal.’ Nigel’s voice was efficient and to the point as he addressed Ali.

  ‘Initial thoughts, Nigel?’

  ‘Looks to me like he’s been gnawed on by something, possibly rodents of some kind. He has some bruising and lacerations consistent with being beaten, but I’d hazard a guess he bled out from the neck wound. We’ll know more after the PM.’

  Ali turned and made his way back over to Charlie who was stood talking to Deena, one of the CSIs.

  ‘Hey, Deena. Anything to tell me?’

  ‘No, not really. I’ve seized the plastic sheeting he was dumped in. Chemical lab might get some prints off the plastic itself. Couldn’t really touch the body ’til Nigel had been so nothing there yet, but Kev, Johnny and Faith are doing the PM later. You gunna be there?’

  ‘Aye, I’ll try to make it over. Just while I’ve got you, anything come back yet from the wee lassie we found over Washington? There wasn’t much to work with I know. We haven’t even managed to come up with an ID as yet.’

  ‘No. To be honest, the samples I recovered at the scene were all general debris stuff, I doubt very much it’ll come to anything. More than likely it was just from people walking along the river.’

  ‘Bummer. I’ve copied you in on the email regarding the strategy meeting, haven’t I?’

  ‘Honestly couldn’t tell you, Ali. Haven’t had time to scratch my backside today, let alone read any emails. This is my second job already, I had a list of about ten to head out with when this came in. I’ve got staff drafted in from the Volume Crime Team dealing with a spate of theft from vehicles over Silksworth; some little scrote’s been on an allotment rampage in Houghton that Kevin’s gone out to, and Cass is on her way here after being summoned in the early hours and dealing with a rape case.’

  ‘Christ, talk about one of those days. It’s not ’til next week anyway, so no rush.’

  Deena nodded and headed back to the CSI van that was parked out on the main street. Glancing around the area, he noted that the alley was to the back of an Aldi store. Limited chance he was sure, but it was possible they had CCTV. He made a mental note to have that checked into.

  There was CCTV all over the city centre, though to be fair, quite often at any given time probably at least half of them were offline. The council just didn’t have the funds to adequately maintain every camera and street light in the city. So, they let them lapse and kept up on the ones that covered the main trouble spots.

  He knew there were already a number of officers involved in the house-to-house enquiries. But it was doubtful that anyone would come forward. The area wasn’t known for its high-class, law-abiding citizens. Still, you never grew an oak tree without planting a few acorns: he’d just have to wait and see what the enquiries came up with.

  Ali already had a gut feeling though, the rats, the beating, the cut neck – it all pointed to Daniel Burton being involved in something or other, possibly even linked to the drug offences Harry had mentioned. Organised crime? He did
n’t know anything for sure.

  Opening the car door, he pulled a fresh Policy Book from the glovebox and started writing. His notes at this stage could be vital. The book recorded the errant thoughts he might forget or misplace later, and he quickly made a bullet point ‘to do’ list.

  It was gunna be another long day.

  Connor’s Parents’ House, Sunderland – 9 November

  Connor pushed open the front door with a groan. He could already hear the screaming from the street: his mother was on one, again. He heard his dad bellow from the kitchen, and then the sound of glass breaking. He found himself running towards the kitchen door with dread.

  As he entered, he saw his mother with a knife in her hand, her arm raised as she ran at his father. What the fuck?

  ‘Mum! Stop it, what the hell are you doing?’

  Running forward he grabbed hold of his mother’s arm as she motioned towards his dad’s face, which was as white as a sheet, his eyes bulging outwards, the vein in his right temple pulsing rapidly with his heartbeat.

  ‘Dad, get in the other room. Mum, stop fighting against me! What the hell do you think you are doing?’

  His voice sounded harsh even to his ears. All his police training flew out of the window. This was his mum, dammit. He’d never thought he’d see the day when his own mother would go for his dad with a knife. Thank God I’m here. If I hadn’t been, I don’t know what would have happened.

  He felt his mum struggle against his grip, reminding him that she still had hold of the knife. ‘Let it go, Mum. Drop it, now.’ He tried his best to keep his voice calm, but he was panicking. If he hadn’t turned up when he did, his mum would have buried the knife deep into his dad’s back.

  Finally, he heard a clunk as his mum dropped the knife on the floor.

  ‘There’s my boy,’ she said with a smile, her mind suddenly popping back into the present from wherever it had been. ‘Would you like a sandwich?’

  Connor shook his head. How could she do that? Jump from being a violent psychopath one minute to being his mum? He didn’t get it. It didn’t matter how much research he did on Alzheimer’s, how much he understood the basics. He’d never be able to grasp the severity of her changes.

  Gentler now, he guided her into the living room, and positioned her in the seat by the window. Once she was settled, he turned back towards his father.

  ‘Dad—’

  ‘Don’t say it, son. She’s not going in a home. “In sickness and in health” I said, “for better or worse”. It’s my job to look after her now she’s ill.’

  ‘But, Dad, she would have—’

  ‘No, son, she’d have stopped herself. She wouldn’t hurt me, despite everything, somewhere deep inside I know she loves me. She threw the glass out of frustration. It was just bad luck that it hit the sink and not the pile of clothes waiting to be washed on the side.’

  ‘Dad, she had a knife. If I hadn’t grabbed her arm, she’d have stabbed you with it.’ Connor felt his voice rise with exasperation. How could his dad not see what would have happened?

  ‘You’re wrong,’ said his old man, shaking his head firmly. ‘Your mother wouldn’t cause me any pain, not deliberately. She’s calmed down now. It’s all fine.’

  ‘And what about next time? What about me not being here if she gets her hand on a knife then? Stop burying your head in the sand, Dad. You can’t cope with this anymore. She needs to go into a home.’

  ‘I said NO!’ his father roared, before getting to his feet and storming from the living room.

  Connor put his head in his hands. What the hell was he supposed to do when his dad was in complete denial and couldn’t see what was happening, let alone do anything to help himself, or his mum. Marie was due back at the weekend; she’d have a heart attack when she saw how bad things had become. It was getting to the point where Connor might have to move back home to help his dad or go over his head and report his mum himself. His dad’s pig-headed stubbornness was going to end up getting him hurt, Connor was sure of it.

  ‘Always did have a temper, your father.’ His mother started up. ‘But I always told him, if he ever hurt you kids then he’d be out of that door faster than you could say “daft mick”. You never saw, you were too young, and make-up did a wonderful job.’

  Connor sat back and digested his mother’s flippant comments. He’d never seen any evidence that his father had hurt his mother. Was this just the Alzheimer’s talking? Or could it have been a relationship she’d had prior to meeting his dad? Shaking his head, he knew he’d never find out the truth. His mum would ramble on and then end up on a tangent, and his dad would storm off if he was confronted. But it had him worried. Maybe he needed to talk to his dad about it, see whether there was any truth to the allegation.

  It had been such a flippant comment, so brief and just in passing. For a moment, he wondered whether he’d even heard it at all. Maybe his uncle Fred would know better, and he would be less likely to kick off. Though Connor hated approaching him for anything. His dad’s brother had a tendency to side with his father, believing in the values of family taking care of family. His dad was adopted, and Connor found the strength of Fred’s feelings a little strange. He believed blood was thicker than water. Resolving to ring his uncle later, he left the house. He shouted goodbye to his dad – but got no reply – and locked the door behind him. Wherever his old man was, he was wrapped up in his own thoughts, and Connor would be damned if he’d make it easy for his mum just to walk out.

  Cass and Alex’s Cottage – 9 November

  Ali pulled his car through the wooded driveway and parked next to Alex’s white Audi. He sighed loudly. After the day he’d had all he wanted to do was go home, bury his head under the duvet and never come back out.

  The post-mortem in the afternoon had been relatively fast. Nigel had quickly ascertained that the cause of death was the laceration to Daniel’s neck. He had confirmed that the male had indeed been a feast for animals of the rodent variety: he’d actually found two sharp teeth inside one of the man’s wounds. Ali shivered as he thought about how terrifying it must have been for Daniel Burton – if he’d been conscious. I really hope he wasn’t though. I’m gunna have nightmares about this poor bloke.

  Giving himself a mental shake, Ali got out of the car. He was here to spend time with his family, not dwell on the happenings at work. It was getting to him though, that was the trouble. The dead eyes of the people he dealt with day in and day out had started invading his dreams, causing him to wake with a jolt virtually every night. It all reminded him of things that were better left in the back of his mind where they belonged. The water deaths had been especially hard: his memories fought to escape every time he thought about the cases.

  He wasn’t the kind of person who made connections easily and he held back on friendships offered, but his family meant the world to him. Not that it had always been that way. When he was younger, he’d had a huge number of friends. But since it had happened, he’d regressed, started doubting himself more, and backing away from the people that he used to call friends.

  Tonight though, he wanted to forget. He wanted to forget he was a cop and just enjoy some time with the family.

  He took in the sight of the cottage as he walked towards the front door. He could completely understand why Cass and Alex loved it so much. It was a fairy tale come true. The porch light was on – it was left on permanently now – but he remembered being there when he’d been looking after Cass after she’d wound up with a killer stalking her a few years back and the light had never worked because Cass always felt so safe in the cottage. The light made him both happy and sad.

  Not pausing to knock, he opened the door and entered. The smell of garlic and herbs hit him instantly: obviously some kind of pasta for tea. It smelt divine. He hung his coat on the rack near the door and turned just as Ollie, Cass’s huge dog launched his oversized paws in the direction of Ali’s shoulders. He held his weight and let the dog greet him, sloppy kisses covering his chee
k and chin, before pushing the gentle giant off him.

  ‘Unc’ Awi,’ squealed an excited voice from the top of the staircase, her small hands rattling the stair gate impatiently, knowing that he would go and lift her over. And dutifully he did just that, sweeping his niece into his arms and giving her a huge kiss.

  ‘Hey, sqwudge. How’s my favourite niece?’

  He carried her downstairs and into the kitchen.

  ‘Look who I found at the top of the stairs, a burglar!’

  Alex and Cass both turned with a grin.

  ‘A burglar,’ said Alex, ‘my goodness. We all know what happens to burglars in this house, don’t we?’

  He advanced towards Ali and Isobel squirmed in his arms.

  ‘No tickle, no tickle,’ she giggled hysterically before Alex even reached them. He tickled his daughter making her belly laugh loudly, before grabbing her from Ali’s arms and walking towards the door. ‘You, little miss, should be in your big girl bed until morning time. I’ll read you another story then you need to go to peeps, OK?’

  The kitchen door closed behind them, and Cass grinned at Ali. ‘You look tired, you OK?’

  Ali took the mug of coffee offered. He hadn’t even noticed her making it. He nodded. ‘Yeah, I’m OK, just knackered, I think. Was due on rest days tomorrow, but we had a murder in this morning. Some kid involved in drugs somehow, we think, but nothing conclusive as yet. Been a long week.’

  ‘Haven’t you got any leave due? Your mum was saying it’s been months since you’ve been home. She was almost set to come down here and frog march you back up there for some R and R.’

  ‘Yeah, have plenty due, but you know what staffing’s like at the minute. If you’re not off sick, you aren’t getting off. Already had my rest days cancelled due to this bloody murder. Am hoping I’ll be able to take them next week at some point. I’ll head up to see her if I get them authorised.’

  ‘She just misses you, Ali. She misses Alex too. She was saying she wants to come down and see Izzy in the next couple of weeks. Mary’s brood are on about coming too. It’ll be like a madhouse!’