by Michael Wood
She needed a break. She could feel the knot of a headache at the back of her head and she felt physically sick.
As she drove out of the car park and headed for Watery Street, there was only one solution she could think of – she would need to keep the whole Aaron Connolly affair out of the newspapers. Unfortunately, to do that, she’d have to betray those closest to her.
Chapter 42
‘I’ve been watching you for the past five minutes. You look like you’ve booked a trip on a world cruise but found out you’ll be sharing a cabin with Donald Trump and Nigel Farage,’ Adele Kean said as she entered her office. Her hair was wet and there was a strong scent of conditioner. She’d obviously recently showered after performing a post-mortem.
Matilda Darke had been waiting for her for around half an hour. There were so many conflicting thoughts going through her mind she hadn’t registered Adele’s presence. She looked up.
‘Sorry?’
‘Is everything all right?’ Adele closed the door behind her and perched on the edge of her desk.
‘No. Something bad’s just happened.’
‘Oh my God. Has someone on the team died?’ Adele asked, slapping a hand to her chest.
‘No. Nothing like that.’
Adele visibly relaxed. ‘Oh good.’
‘Adele, I really need your advice on something. Are you free to talk right now?’
‘Yes. I’ve just finished Calvin Page’s autopsy.’
‘Shit, I forgot all about that,’ Matilda said, running her hand through her hair. ‘How did it go?’
‘Blunt force trauma to the head, like I said at the scene. I’ve found samples of metal filings within the wounds. I think you’re looking for something like a hammer or a wrench, perhaps.’
‘Did you use your fancy-pants fingerprinting thing?’
‘I did. No drugs, but plenty of alcohol. I’ll send my report later today. So, come on, let’s hear all this juicy gossip,’ she said, pulling up a chair and trying to get as comfortable as she could in her incredibly cramped office.
Matilda filled Adele in on the whole story of Aaron Connolly and his affair with Leah Mercer and the possible snowball effect it would have when the case came to court in November.
‘Bloody hell,’ she said, sitting back and blowing out a breath. ‘I mean, I know all men are shits, but I always thought Aaron was a true family man.’
‘So did I. He’s bored us for years about how much he and Katrina love each other.’
‘It’s always the quiet ones, though, isn’t it?’
‘That’s why they’re quiet. If they talk a lot, they end up spilling their secrets.’
‘Poor Katrina.’
‘Have you met her before?’
‘Yes, a couple of times. She’s a bit loud, but she’s lovely.’
‘I remember when they got married,’ Matilda said. She sat back in her seat and was visibly relaxing now. Her shoulders were no longer hunched up beneath her ears with angst and worry. ‘He was so nervous, more than usual for a bloke about to get married. He worried he wouldn’t be a good husband, a good father, that he’d somehow ruin the happiness Katrina represented.’
‘It sounds like he knew what lay ahead in his future.’
‘He didn’t have a very good childhood. His parents split when he was about four and the custody battle went on for years. His parents despised each other. He told me that he always said he wouldn’t get married but when he met Katrina, he knew she was special. He just hoped he wouldn’t turn into his father and ruin everything.’
‘And that’s exactly what he’s done.’
‘Maybe.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I think I can keep this out of the newspapers and allow Aaron to deal with this privately.’
‘How?’
‘Well, Danny Hanson wants an exclusive. He doesn’t care what the story is as long as he gets a massive front-page lead which will look good on his CV.’
‘Yes. So what?’
‘I just have to give him another exclusive.’
‘You don’t have one.’
‘I do.’
‘Really?’
Matilda took a breath. ‘Carl Meagan.’
‘What?’
‘I could give Danny Hanson the exclusive on Carl Meagan being found in France.’
‘But you don’t know he really is Carl Meagan yet, do you? Have you had the DNA results back?’
Matilda looked away. ‘Not yet.’ LIAR!
Chapter 43
Ellen stood in the doorway to Riley’s bedroom and watched as Jodie went about changing his nappy. She handled him with confidence as if she had done this a thousand times before, which she probably had. All the while she was changing him, cleaning him up and dressing him, she engaged him in conversation. He couldn’t join in, but Jodie’s voice was different with Riley. It was light, soft, with a hint of happiness and jollity, as if all was right with the world.
‘You’re getting to be a big boy, Riley,’ she said as she grunted under the strain of lifting him down from the changing mat. She placed him, carefully, in his bean bag. ‘Look at these big solid legs.’ She held his feet and wiggled his legs which made him giggle. ‘You’re like a little rugby player, aren’t you? Riley the scrum half.’
She turned around and saw Ellen watching. It made her jump.
‘Sorry, I didn’t see you there. Did you want anything?’
‘No. I came to see how you are, but you seem to be doing ok.’
Jodie sat cross-legged on the floor beside Riley. She handed him his favourite penguin toy. ‘It’s strange but coming in here and being with Riley, it’s like the rest of the world doesn’t exist. Inside this room, it’s all about Riley, his needs and there’s no responsibility, no stress. We can sit here for hours blowing bubbles, playing with his toys, or watching the lights fade into different colours, and nothing else matters. I could honestly close that door and never leave this room again.’
Ellen frowned. The weight upon Jodie’s shoulders was too great for a fourteen-year-old to contend with. She shouldn’t be talking about getting away from the world. She should be out there living in it, exploring it, meeting boys, buying make-up, and trying a cheeky cigarette or an illicit sip of vodka.
‘I was thinking about doing a shepherd’s pie for tea,’ Ellen said to fill the silence. ‘Your mum hasn’t eaten much today; she could do with something substantial. What do you think?’
‘That would be nice. Will you grate some cheese on top of the mash? Dad likes it like that.’
‘Of course,’ Ellen smiled. ‘Do you know what time your dad will be home?’
‘I’ve no idea,’ she shrugged. ‘He’s missed a lot of work lately, so he’ll be wanting to put in some overtime to make up.’
‘Ok. Well, I’ll set a plate aside for him.’
***
The house was silent.
The shepherd’s pie was in the oven and Ellen was washing the dirty dishes. Linda had promised to come downstairs once it was ready. She had taken to her bed after her meagre lunch. She didn’t go to sleep, but the sounds of her crying and vomiting could be heard from upstairs.
Ellen should have gone home more than an hour ago, but she wanted to make sure the family had a decent meal. Linda wasn’t in a position to look after her two remaining children at the moment and Craig had insisted on returning to work. Somebody needed to maintain a degree or normality for Jodie and Riley, and that role fell to Ellen.
‘Riley’s nodded off,’ Jodie said as she entered the kitchen. ‘I think I’ve tired him out. We might get a few hours of peace.’ She spoke like a parent who had put their baby down for a nap. It was strange for Ellen to hear such words coming out of a teenager’s mouth. ‘Is there anything I can do?’
‘You could set the table if you like. It’s almost ready.’
‘It smells lovely.’
‘Thank you.’
Jodie went about setting the table for four people. Ellen d
idn’t know if this was through habit of setting a place for Keeley or if she was being thoughtful by including Ellen.
‘When will we be able to have the funeral?’ Jodie asked out of nowhere.
‘Well, the coroner has opened the inquest and adjourned it while we continue our investigation. Once he’s satisfied as to the cause of death, he’ll release Keeley and you can arrange things then.’
‘Will that be a long way off?’
‘I don’t know how long these things take, I’m sorry. It all depends on how the investigation goes and if the coroner is satisfied.’
‘I saw a coffin online. It’s pink and you can have things put on the side. I thought it would be nice to have pictures of Disney princesses and castles. Keeley would have loved that.’
‘I’m sure she would.’ Ellen pulled out a chair at the table and sat down. She beckoned Jodie to do the same. ‘Jodie, you can’t take on all the responsibility for yourself, you know. You’re still only a child. You’ll need to go back to school soon or you’ll fall behind in your studies. Your mum is here to take care of Riley and it’s the role of your parents to organise Keeley’s funeral.’
‘Mum can’t cope,’ Jodie eventually said, wiping away a tear before it had a chance to form. ‘You’ve seen how she is. She’s sick. I don’t have a choice.’
‘Yes, you do. None of this is your responsibility.’
‘I don’t mind, though. I like looking after Dad and Riley.’
‘But who looks after you?’
‘I can look after myself.’
‘But you shouldn’t—’ Ellen was interrupted by the front door opening and slamming closed. Craig was home.
‘I was hoping you’d still be here,’ he said as he stormed into the kitchen. His face was like thunder. ‘Jodie, go and check on your brother.’
‘He’s fine. He’s sleeping.’
‘I’ll not ask you again,’ he said, his voice raised.
Jodie scuttled away. Ellen noticed she went into Riley’s room but didn’t fully close the door behind her.
‘I’ve been thinking long and hard this afternoon,’ Craig began, leaning on the table and staring daggers at Ellen. ‘Where do you lot get off questioning me and Linda like that?’
‘I’m sorry?’ Ellen looked genuinely scared. She remained seated at the table but leaned back as far as she could go.
‘Accusing me and Linda of killing our own daughter.’
‘Nobody is accusing you.’
‘You lot bloody are. I work my fingers to the bone for this family. I work every hour God sends. I love all my children, and you think you can just swan in and start throwing around vicious accusations.’
‘Craig, please, calm down, and I can explain how these things work.’
‘I don’t want to calm down, and I don’t want to hear any more of your bullshit. I know why you’re here; it’s not to look after us and make sure we’re all right, it’s to fucking spy on us. You’re here to try and find some shred of evidence, no matter how small, that me or Linda could have killed our daughter. Well I’m not standing for it. I want you out.’
‘Craig, please. Let me give DCI Darke a call …’
‘What for? So she can come around here and start accusing me of something else. Is she going to take the floorboards up in the living room to look for Carl Meagan under the house? I don’t think so. I want you out. Now.’
‘Craig …’
‘I’m not a violent man, Ellen, but I swear to God, I will literally throw you out of this house if I have to.’
Ellen fell silent. She had never been more scared in her whole life than she was right now. Slowly, she stood up.
‘I’m very sorry you feel this way, Craig. You have my number if you need anything.’
As she edged past him, she could feel the rage and anger oozing out of him. From the hallway, she collected her coat and bag she had draped over the bannister and turned back. Craig was in the same position, hunched over the kitchen table. His broad back was heaving as he took deep breaths to try and steady his nerves.
Ellen turned to leave and caught Jodie standing in the small gap she had left in the entrance to Riley’s bedroom. Ellen gave her a sympathetic smile, but Jodie didn’t react. Her face was blank.
Once Ellen was out of the house, she visibly relaxed. She let out a huge breath. She looked up the road for the silver Peugeot, but it had gone. So much for being protected. She’d send an email to DCI Darke and report what had happened, but she hoped she wouldn’t be sent back here.
Ellen put on her coat and headed up Acorn Drive. She had parked around the corner again today. The journalists had been parked outside the house this morning when she arrived, but they’d gone now. Obviously a juicier story had come up.
The door to the house next door opened and Amanda Raine stepped out. Ellen stopped and looked over to her.
‘I heard the row,’ she said quietly, but in the dying light of the day, her words echoed around the empty street. ‘Are you all right?’
‘I’m fine, thanks.’
‘He gets like that; flies off the handle at the littlest things. You should have heard the things he said to my Grant when they had a disagreement over the size of the garden fence round the back. I honestly thought he was going to hit him.’
‘Is he violent?’ Ellen asked, stepping closer to Amanda’s house.
‘I don’t think so. He’s more of a verbal bully. There’s no wonder Linda’s ill all the time. She’s a nervous wreck.’ A gust of wind came from nowhere. Amanda wrapped her hands firmly across her chest, closing her cardigan against the stiff breeze. ‘You didn’t hear this from me, but he’s argued and threatened every person on this road.’
‘Threatened?’
‘Oh yes. He doesn’t like you parking outside his house. When it’s bin day, he kicks off if the bins aren’t collected as soon as they’re emptied. Her at number eleven, he had a go at her on the day she moved in because the removal truck was blocking the road. I’ve said it many times, but it’s like living next door to Jekyll and Hyde.’
‘Amanda, Jocelyn’s on the phone,’ a call came from inside the house.
‘I’ll have to go, that’s our Jocelyn. Her youngest went into labour yesterday with twins. Ta-ra,’ she closed the door before Ellen could reply.
Ellen turned and headed towards her car. As she went around the corner, she looked back at the Armitage house. There were a pair of eyes staring at her from an upstairs window, and she felt an icy chill run up her spine.
Chapter 44
Saturday 15th September 2018
The HMET suite was deserted. A skeleton staff was manning the phones in the CID and if anything important arose, the SIO on call would be informed, but budget cuts dictated that a full staff was not required to work weekends.
Matilda entered the large open-plan office and looked at the mess of desks before her. She shook her head in disappointment. Police work shouldn’t be Monday to Friday. There should be no such thing as regular office hours when you were a detective. Crime didn’t recognise bank holidays and weekends, so why should the police. It angered her when she heard about budget cuts to the police when governments wasted millions of pounds on unnecessary projects. How much was spent during the Brexit campaign on leaflets, posters, websites, tour buses, events and conferences? How much was being spent in the ensuing clusterfuck that followed with trips to Europe and back to hammer out a deal? MPs filled in expense forms for every single little item, but how many hours did Matilda work for free every month? Every single member of the police force put their lives on hold, and on the line, every single day to protect the public, and it was a thankless task. Politicians didn’t care. Twenty thousand officers were cut and then they wondered why knife crime rose so rapidly. The solution was simple, put the twenty thousand officers back and employ twenty thousand more. Stop wasting money on a garden bridge over the Thames, planning for HS2, pissing about with Brexit, and you find your money for the extra officers needed to make
people feel safe again.
She went into her office and closed the door behind her. She slumped into her chair that had stuffing coming out of the seams (no money in the budget for a replacement) and took her phone out of her pocket.
She had ignored the many texts from Adele last night and this morning, begging her to rethink her absurd plan. However, if Matilda was to go ahead with selling her soul to Danny Hanson, then she was on her own. That hurt Matilda. She had suffered a great deal in the past few years and the one thing that kept her going was knowing that her best friend was always there to help if she needed her. Now, she was being abandoned. She knew what she was about to do was wrong, but there really was no other solution.
Walpole, Compton, Pelham, Pelham-Holles …
A knock on the glass door made her jump. She looked up and saw Christian Brady grinning at her from the other side.
‘I didn’t expect to see you in this morning,’ he said, opening the door.
‘No. To be honest, I don’t know why I’m here. You?’
‘I could be super arse-kissy about it and say I wanted to put in some unpaid overtime to protect the people of Sheffield.’
‘And the truth?’
‘I left my phone here last night.’
Matilda smiled. ‘While you’re here, can I pick your brain?’
‘There’s not really much to pick, but you’re welcome to help yourself.’
‘Thanks. Put the kettle on. We need a coffee for this.’
***
They were both shocked when they opened Sian’s snack drawer and saw there was very little left. A two-fingered KitKat, a small packet of salted peanuts, two purple Clubs and half a packet of dark chocolate digestives.
‘It’s not like Sian to let supplies run this low,’ Matilda said.
‘I think she’s pissed that people are taking things out and not putting anything back.’
‘Oh dear. I think I might be guilty of that.’
‘I think we all are. I’ll pop to Costco on the way home and buy something,’ Christian said scooping up everything that was left and taking it into Matilda’s office.
