The subject was dropped and they went back to talking about movies and music.
As Steve walked home he replayed this startling piece of news over and over in his head. It would seem that Ryman was not simply involved in black marketeering, as he’d come to suspect, but also in much worse crimes. What a dreadful bloke he was. Admitting his own suspicions to Cathie had given him pause for thought. What if it was Alex who was creating these new problems for him at the Co-op, possibly out of some sort of revenge?
If that were the case then what would be the best way to deal with it? Talking to the boss at the suppliers hadn’t worked, but sitting back and allowing Ryman to create more mayhem wouldn’t be wise either. Steve knew that if he was personally charged with the offence of dealing in the black market, he could well lose his teacher training place at the university. Such a situation would ruin his entire future.
First thing the next morning, Steve went to speak to Mr Leeson, his manager. ‘May I have a private word with you, sir?’
‘Of course, Steve. Do sit down. I needed a word with you anyway. I’m aware you’re leaving to start your course, and normally I’d be suggesting that you are welcome to work for us whenever you are on vacation. But I’m sorry to say that I’m not in a position to offer you a job again. And if you are seeking a reference I cannot provide you with one of those either.’
Steve blinked, somewhat startled by this remark. ‘Why would you not?’
‘As you are aware, lad, we’ve suffered numerous problems recently with deliveries and invoices. I’ll admit that it’s not exactly the kind of problem that occurred the last time you were employed by us, when you were accused of arranging the theft of goods from your delivery van. Nevertheless, it’s so similar that it does make me question if you’re at it again.’
Steve was horrified, realising he’d been right to be concerned. He took a breath, hoping to relieve the knot of fear clogging his throat. ‘I rather thought you believed me, sir, when I assured you I hadn’t done any such thing. I never left my cab door open, nor did I ever leave any stuff lying about on the passenger seat to be stolen. In actual fact it was this issue over deliveries that I wished to speak to you about. I believe that some of the workers down at the docks, and at the Co-op’s main suppliers, could well be engaged in black market crimes. It certainly isn’t me.’
Leeson frowned. ‘If that’s the case, I’m glad to hear it. But falsifying invoices or not delivering what has been paid for is a serious crime. Are you actually accusing the warehouse boss of planning this?’
‘Of course not, but he needs to be warned. It may be a good idea were you to speak to him, rather than me, whom he clearly doesn’t trust.’
‘Then who do you think is responsible, or are you suggesting that the men are doing it off their own bat?’
Steve gave a little shrug, wondering how far he dare go to reveal his suspicions. ‘They might well be, but I do have an idea who might be responsible. However, it could be dangerous to name names at this stage, without proof.’
‘Ah!’ Leeson sat back in his chair, arms folded. ‘I’m beginning to read your mind, lad. Could you once have had an issue with this person, maybe even a fight?’
Steve gazed down at his artificial leg stuck out for comfort as he strived to think of an appropriate response. Revealing Ryman’s name might be the right thing to do. On the other hand, were the fellow ever to get wind of the fact he was being investigated, he might take his revenge out on Cathie, particularly bearing in mind what she’d recently discovered about him. Steve looked up to meet his boss’s enquiring gaze with open honesty in his own.
‘I learned some rather troubling news about this person yesterday, which seems to indicate that he’s not simply involved in the black market, but theft of a much worse kind. Unfortunately, the victim concerned has chosen not to bring charges, for personal reasons. But that doesn’t make him innocent.’
‘I see.’ Mr Leeson got slowly to his feet. ‘Leave it with me. I’ll see if I can put an end to this devilish scheme without naming names. If what you suggest proves to be true and we can resolve it, Steve, then I’ll review my decision about not employing you again, and with regard to your references.’
Since that seemed to be the best he could hope for, Steve thanked his manager and left. As his course started on Monday, he would then surely be free of Ryman’s evil tricks. But would Cathie?
His life seemed to be in utter turmoil in so many directions at the moment, some of which he still needed to explain to Cathie, once he’d plucked up the necessary courage.
A few days later, Mr Leeson called Steve back to the office to announce that two employees had been found guilty and duly sacked.
‘The warehouse manager sends his apologies for having assumed it to be you, lad,’ Leeson told him, handing over his reference. ‘So you’re welcome to come back and work for us at any time.’
‘Thanks, I’m most grateful for your support,’ Steve said with gratitude, but deep down he still worried that Ryman might discover he was the one responsible for these sidekicks of his getting the sack. ‘I trust you didn’t name any names at this stage? There are other aspects to this person that need checking out before his identity can be revealed. It could prove dangerous for some friends of mine, were he ever to realise what we are up to.’
Leeson assured him that he had said nothing on that score. ‘No names mentioned. I was asked, but explained the person concerned was still under investigation and that I’d keep the manager informed.’
‘Thank you, that’s a great relief.’
Steve knew that he really needed to get to the bottom of this other mystery too. How to go about it, that was the question. But it wasn’t so much himself that he was concerned about, but Cathie. He hoped to God that she always remembered to lock her door.
When Steve called at the flat to tell them all about his first week on the course, Cathie welcomed him with a warm hug. ‘How did it go?’
Giving a wry smile, he said, ‘It will be a year of intensive training, both on an academic and a practical level with lots of hands-on teaching. Hard work but worth it if I get a good job at the end. I must say though that some of the blokes taking this course are a bit draconian, acting more like sergeant majors in charge of troops. Not at all how a teacher should behave with kids, in my opinion.’
‘You’re right there,’ Cathie agreed. ‘Having suffered at the hands of a bully myself, I’d say that is definitely not the way to deal with children.’
He grimaced. ‘Children aren’t the only ones to suffer from such men, or you ladies. I too am now a victim.’
Cathie stared at him in dawning horror. ‘Are you suggesting that Alex may have created the problem you have with the Co-op suppliers over orders?’
Steve nodded, and went on to reveal the tale of the attempt to prove him guilty of being involved in the black market, explaining the matter had thankfully now been resolved by the Co-op manager. ‘And without naming names.’ He still felt some concern over his caution not to name Ryman, as it could well achieve nothing, except to protect Cathie from any retaliation on his part. But it was perfectly clear that they knew who he was blaming.
‘The man’s turning into a real piece of crap,’ Brenda snarled. ‘I came across quite a few like him when I was in France; men who thought they could rule the world, and make a fortune for themselves while they sought to achieve it. And treated all women as if they were whores.’
Cathie patted her friend’s hand, feeling the need to offer comfort as Brenda’s face was wrought with anguish. ‘You must have been so brave. I would like to hear your story in full one day, Brenda, when you feel ready to tell it.’
Her friend returned her gaze with that all too familiar stiffness in her own, the very truculence of her stance proving how capable she must have been at coping with the traumas she suffered. ‘There are some things best not spoken of. Remember the saying, “be like Dad and keep mum”. Right now, let’s stick with your problems.
What do we do about this blighter?’
Turning to Steve, Cathie’s expression now turned rock hard, revealing the determined side to her own personality. ‘All that I’ve learned about Alex recently does make me wonder about Davina, and why she vanished.’
Steve blinked, looking startled by this sudden change in the conversation. ‘What are you saying? Vanished where?’
‘That’s a good question.’ Brenda said. ‘I wish we knew.’
Cathie went on to explain how they’d failed to find any sign of their missing friend, even at the Home for Unmarried Mothers where she’d apparently been lodged. ‘Although I accept Davina may well have gone back to wherever she came from.’
‘Those nuns were astonishingly unconcerned about where she might be,’ Brenda put in, picking up the teapot to refill their cups.
‘Don’t they have her address?’ Steve asked, frowning as he listened to this puzzling tale.
‘Actually, I’m beginning to wonder if it’s much more serious than that,’ Cathie added. ‘Following the walk we took by the canal that time when you slipped, Bren, I’m starting to put two and two together and maybe making five. But I’m wondering if the girl found under the bridge on the Rochdale Canal might well have been Davina, as it was around the time she went missing.’
The teapot dropped from Brenda’s hand, smashing to the ground and spilling tea everywhere, while Steve went white with shock.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
The three of them went together to the police station on Minshull Street to ask who the victim had been, only to be told the girl had never been identified. ‘She carried no identity card, no bag, no ration book, nothing, and our inquiries got us nowhere.’
‘So what had happened to her?’ Steve enquired politely.
‘We suspect she may have committed suicide, so the case is closed,’ the desk sergeant said with a shrug.
‘Shows how much you care about women,’ Brenda retorted.
‘The young lady was given a decent burial,’ the police officer assured her with a certain degree of respect and apology in his tone of voice. ‘Although not in a churchyard because of the circumstances of her death. The girl was pregnant, yet wore no wedding ring.’
Something resonated inside of Cathie at these words, as this must be Davina. ‘Do you by any chance have a picture of her?’
‘Only of her dead body, love. I very much doubt you’d wish to see it, particularly if you think you might know her.’
‘We do need to check, as our friend is missing,’ Brenda snapped.
Nodding sympathetically, the desk sergeant picked up the phone to speak to his commanding officer. Moments later, a young constable came out of the back office carrying a black and white snapshot, which he handed to Steve.
‘Sorry, but I never met her,’ he said, passing it over to the two girls despite a glower of disapproval from the sergeant who clearly didn’t think women should be shown such things.
‘Oh, Lord, that’s definitely our friend, Davina,’ Brenda sadly announced.
One glance at the grim picture was more than enough to bring tears flooding to Cathie’s eyes. The next moment she was running out of the police station and they could hear her throwing up into the gutter, no doubt filled with terror that her worst fears had been confirmed. As Steve watched Brenda hurry after her friend, he asked the sergeant what the police intended to do about this tragedy.
‘Nothing. As I say the case is closed. Unless you have evidence to the contrary to prove that it wasn’t suicide or an accident,’ came the calm response.
‘Might I fill you in on a few details, which might help?’
Taking out his notebook, the desk sergeant licked his pencil and waited with a somewhat bored expression on his face. But even when Steve had told the entire story, or at least the outline of it as far as he knew, he was still bluntly informed that without further evidence there was little the police could do.
‘You aren’t even prepared to question Ryman?’
‘Not without good reason.’
‘So what kind of evidence would you need?’
The sergeant shook his head. ‘Hard to say, a witness perhaps?’
Struggling to contain his anger, as he knew there was little hope of finding one of those, Steve stomped out of the station and went to put his arms about Cathie. ‘I’m sure the police will do what they can,’ he said, attempting to offer what comfort he could, against all odds.
‘Not for one minute do I believe Davina would deliberately kill herself,’ she cried, burying her face in his chest. ‘She wasn’t that kind of girl. She loved life far too much to give up on it.’
‘Unfortunately, we need proof that she didn’t.’
‘How do we do that?’ Cathie looked bewildered, as if her world were collapsing around her all over again, and she was desperately trying to block out fear. If her suspicions about Davina were proved to be correct, then there could be a serious risk of Ryman attempting to silence her too. The very thought filled Steve with a mix of fury and terror.
‘Leave it to me, love. I’ll see what I can find out from the nuns.’
‘Good luck with that one,’ Brenda caustically remarked, while Cathie hugged and thanked him for at least offering to try.
‘I know she ruined our friendship, and my engagement by cheating with Alex, but I can’t bear to think that this is the price Davina has paid for falling in love with the wrong man. It’s too horrific to even contemplate.’
When Steve patiently explained to the young nun at the gate what he had learned from the police, she led him straight to the Mother Superior. As soon as that good lady was shown a copy of Davina’s photograph, she put her hand to her chest as if it were pounding with shock.
‘What a dreadful tragedy! We shall hold a special mass in honour of her memory,’ she generously offered.
Moved by this, Steve nodded. ‘May we, as her friends, also attend?’
‘Are you saying that you’re the father of her child?’ the Mother Superior snapped.
Now it was Steve’s turn to look shocked. ‘No, I most certainly am not, although I do have an idea who that person might be. In fact, I never knew the girl personally but my friends did, so I would like to accompany them to any special service, as they are very upset by this tragedy. Right now, what I’m looking for is any information you might have about her. Davina Gibson hadn’t lived for very long in Castlefield and, as is often the case with so many people these days, she didn’t speak of the past. Do you by any chance have her home address?’
The Mother Superior shook her head; her grey-eyed gaze now distant and cool, unconvinced by his declared innocence. ‘You can ask Sister Teresa, who looks after the records in the office, but I am not aware of any. So who was the man responsible for getting her into this dreadful mess?’
‘I don’t think it’s my place to reveal his name, but I may have cause to pass it on to the police, should that prove to be necessary. Did she make any friends while she was staying here?’ He’d already passed on Ryman’s name but had no wish for this to be widely known, particularly as the police didn’t seem interested.
‘Yes, she did make friends, and escaped with one, the silly girl. At least they weren’t stupid enough to climb the wall and get themselves caught up in the spikes on top, as far too many have done in the past.’ She tut-tutted. ‘They must have stolen the key to the side door, as it was still sitting in the lock the next morning. It did them no good at all to run off like that, particularly considering how Davina has ended up. No doubt she had nowhere to go so the foolish girl threw herself into the canal. Goodness knows what happened to her friend.’
‘And who might she be?’
The Mother Superior picked up the bell on her desk to call in Sister Teresa, the nun who kept the records. He was duly handed the address of one Barbara Cartwright.
‘I suspect she may not have gone home either, as her father threw her out for falling pregnant with a Yank,’ the young nun told him, as she was s
howing him out through the gate. ‘But she does have a sister. Unfortunately, I don’t have her address.’
‘Thanks, I’ll see what I can do,’ Steve said, and walked away with a sad resentment growing inside him that these girls were so poorly treated they were prepared to take any risk in order to escape.
A Requiem Mass was duly held, which all three friends attended, together with the nuns. Psalm 23 was read, prayers were chanted, the organ played Mozart’s Requiem in D minor, and communion was held. No other family members or friends of Davina’s were present, which made Cathie feel even more sad. How dreadful to die and no one you once loved to even be aware of it. Who her parents were, or where they lived, was a complete mystery, assuming they were still alive.
‘At least we, as her one-time friends, are here to pay honour to her,’ Brenda said, lighting a candle in her memory.
‘It’s all we can do for her now,’ Cathie agreed, as she did the same.
‘I’m not so sure about that. It’s our responsibility to discover how she died,’ Steve said.
Cathie gazed at him in anguish. It was true that however foolishly Davina might have behaved, she did not deserve to lose her life. And not for one moment did Cathie believe she’d committed suicide. The blame for her death must surely lie elsewhere, a thought that brought a shiver of fear to ripple down her spine.
‘She can’t have been happy living there,’ Steve said later, as he and Cathie sat together that evening on stools in the backyard, the moon glistening down on them from between the clouds. Brenda had gone out for the evening with a new boyfriend, and little Heather was fast asleep in her cot. Steve felt his heart clench with pain at the sight of Cathie’s distress. She was sitting with her head in her hands, her lovely red-blonde hair falling over her face as if she wished to hide behind it. He ached to comfort her, to stroke and kiss her, but was afraid to do so in case she slapped him away, or even banished him from her life. It was bad enough to be convinced that she didn’t feel the same way about him as he felt about her. But if he upset her by making a pass too soon, then he risked losing Cathie’s friendship entirely, which really didn’t bear thinking about.
Home Is Where the Heart Is Page 23
