by Jay Nadal
Scott looked around as they approached the block in question. Despite it being new, modern and clean, Scott couldn’t help feel that the area was missing something. It didn’t feel homely or welcoming. If anything, it felt a little cold and soulless. He surmised that it no doubt suited the young professionals or small families who needed convenient access to the station and town centre.
A tall, slim good-looking youth answered the door to flat number 12 on the third floor. His gelled hair rippled back over his head in waves. He wore a thin, black v-neck jumper and drainpipe jeans. On the face of it, he looked like any other lad you’d see on the high road.
“Johnny Wright?” Scott asked.
Johnny already knew they were the police from his numerous run-ins with the local uniformed bandits as he liked to call them, but asked anyway. “Who wants to know?” he asked flippantly and without warmth.
“I’m Detective Inspector Baker and this is Detective Sergeant Trent,” he announced as they briefly waved their warrant cards in front of him. “Can we come in to ask you a few questions?” Scott didn’t wait for a reply as he stepped into the hallway.
“Be my guest,” Johnny offered, waving them through sarcastically, “Make yourselves at home why don’t you,” he spat.
The flat was bright and airy, with contemporary furniture that suited the impression of comfortable living. To either side of the hallway were doors leading into the bedrooms, one a double and the second no bigger than a box room. The bathroom was a decent enough size with large stone tiles that rose from the floor and up the walls. A large double shower with waterfall spray head drew Scott’s eye, together with the Jack and Jill sinks in white porcelain.
The hallway led onto a large room that overlooked the front road. It was tastefully split into a functional kitchen diner on the right, with white cupboards and black worktops, fitted with sleek, Neff modern appliances.
The lounge was minimally kitted out with a luxury leather corner sofa situated directly in front of an oversized, wall-mounted LED TV.
Abby and Scott exchanged an intuitive glance of this doesn’t quite look right. He was either in a well-paid job, came into inheritance from a rich old aunt or was involved in something that wasn’t necessarily legitimate.
“Nice place; what do you do for a job?” Scott asked as he continued to glance around the room.
“I’m in between jobs at the moment.”
Scott nodded slowly and smiled to himself. “What did you do then?”
“Erm,” he paused for a second, “I’m self-employed. A bit of DJ’ing, a bit of web creation stuff … that sort of thing.” His voice stiffened as he maintained his bravado and sat down on the sofa flicking through the Sky channels on TV.
“We want to ask you about Libby Stephens. When did you last see her?” Scott questioned.
He smirked. “I guess six months ago, we had a big falling out, things fizzled out between us, and we moved on,” he shrugged. “C’est la vie.”
Scott’s attention shifted when a girl walked into the room busily texting away on her phone. She briefly glanced up. Sensing the tense atmosphere in the room and the unwelcomed visitors, she promptly turned, retracing her steps back out into the hallway. He gave the slightest of nods in Abby’s direction, which she took as the cue to follow the girl.
The hallway was natural wood, so each of Abby’s steps reverberated off the walls as she headed to the bedroom. She peered around the door to see the girl sitting cross-legged on the bed scrolling through something on an IPad. She was oblivious to Abby’s presence until she was actually in the room. She presented a disapproving scowl at the invasion of her space and privacy as she stared cold-faced and tight-lipped at Abby.
Perched on the end of the bed, Abby scanned the girl. She was dressed in a red Superdry T-shirt, and black three-quarter length leggings. Her finger- and toenails were painted a deep shiny red. Her thick, long, jet-black hair, which Abby assumed was dyed, cascaded down her front, partially covering the logo on the front of her top. The darkness of her hair offered a stark contrast to her sparkling, intense blue eyes framed in black eyeliner.
“I’m Detective Sergeant Abby Trent, what’s your name?”
“What’s it to you?” the girl asked abruptly, still avoiding eye contact.
“Just asking. How old are you, love?”
The girl remained silent. Her fingers moved at lightning speed as she scanned, liked and moved through various Snapchat messages.
“We need to make sure you’re alright, so what’s your name and how old are you?”
The girl tutted, “Jenna Wade and I’m 16,” she protested.
“And where do you live, Jenna?”
“Why, what’s it to do with you?”
“Well, we perhaps need to check in with your mum to let her know you’re okay,” Abby suggested sympathetically.
Jenna showed no signs of softening her attitude towards Abby. She offered the occasional uncooperative glare that most teens seem to have mastered with little effort by the time they reached her age. “She won’t care anyway.”
“All the same, your safety is my concern, Jenna.”
Jenna laughed half-heartedly, “I ain’t got a mum.”
“Dad?”
“You’re joking me?”
Abby probed, certain that Jenna was being economical with the truth. “Well then, have you run away? Do you live with an uncle or aunt, foster parents, or even at a residential unit maybe?”
Jenna turned to look out of the window, knowing that to face the officer now would give away too much. Unwittingly, she’d fallen into her own trap, a response that Abby was quick to follow up on.
“A residential unit then; which one? Tindale, St Mary’s, Benedicts?”
“What if I am? I haven’t done anything wrong,” Jenna insisted.
Abby sympathetically placed her hand to her chest, “Listen, I’m not saying you have, Jenna. I’m just making sure you’re okay and trying to establish some facts.”
Abby decided to change tack to diffuse the situation a bit. “Did Johnny give you that iPad?”
Jenna smirked to herself, toying playfully with her necklace.
“Did he give you that necklace and bracelet?”
Jenna remained silent, placing a protective hand over the bracelet, not wishing to leave it open to more scrutiny.
As Jenna shifted uncomfortably on the bed, Abby saw the quick flash of a familiar tattoo on her left ankle that alarmed her. She’d seen the same design on Libby’s left ankle at the post mortem.
“All the things that Johnny buys you, what does he want in return?”
Jenna, incensed by the insinuation, exploded, “Why are you asking me? These are stupid questions.”
“We’re just worried about you.”
“I can look after myself; what’s with the million questions?”
Abby pulled out a picture of Libby from her handbag and turned it to show Jenna.
“This is Libby Stephens; have you seen her or do you know her? It’s really important,” Abby pleaded. Jenna’s reaction was instant, her eyes widening for just a split second before she composed herself.
Despite the girl’s silence, Abby pushed on, “Have you seen her about? This is important.”
“I’m not answering your stupid questions,” Jenna declared.
“I know, but it would help me if you do, the girl went out with Johnny, did you know that?”
“Big deal, so?”
“What happens if that’s just an act? He used to give Libby presents too in the same way. She even had the same tattoo.”
Jenna was looking a bit diffident now and unsure of her footing.
“Look, you got it all wrong,” she pleaded, her penetrating blue eyes expressing a mix of joy and sadness. “He’s good to me, he looks after me and he’s dead into me. I really love him.”
“Why would he give stuff otherwise? To impress you? To get something in return maybe?” Abby challenged. “You need to understand that
if you’re underage and Johnny’s sleeping with you, then that’s illegal. If you’re underage and he’s giving you gifts and expecting you to sleep with him in return, then that’s coercion and rape.”
“No!” Jenna exclaimed, a look of disgust appearing on her face. “It’s not like that, you make it sound dirty.” She sighed, “Johnny loves me. I know he does.”
Abby held up Libby’s picture one last time in an attempt to get through to the girl’s better nature. “You know her, don’t you? Please.”
Jenna glanced away, giving the slightest of nods. “We saw her two nights ago.”
“You and Johnny?”
Jenna nodded. “We saw her outside the Unicorn.”
“Come with me,” Abby nodded.
Scott was casually flicking through the DVD collection by the front window when Abby walked into the lounge, followed by Jenna sheepishly trailing behind.
“Why did you lie? Jenna says you saw Libby the night she died. Now I think we deserve an explanation…don’t you?” Abby demanded.
Scott remained silent as he allowed Abby to lead. As he watched her, he felt a sense of pride to have Abby on his team; her strong, assertive character was an asset he valued. Her empathetic nature proved handy on more than one occasion. It was clear that letting her loose on Jenna had yielded far better results than he could have achieved with this stroppy teenager.
“We did see her ... we didn’t stop and chat or anything,” he finally admitted.
“Libby’s dead; her body was discovered two days ago.”
At hearing the news, they shot each other nervous and shocked glances. Their bravado deserting them as they sat on the sofa looking like children that had been scolded by their mother.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know that,” offered Johnny apologetically.
Abby’s phone started to ring, so she left the room to take it, leaving Scott to carry on.
“What time was that?”
“Nine-thirty. We were off to Xenon’s on the seafront.”
“We’ll check that, so you’d better not be wasting any more of our time.”
“Go ahead,” Johnny protested, looking at the floor.
***
“Stroppy pair, aren’t they,” Scott concluded as they left the building and stood by the car.
“Well one certainly is stroppy; Jenna I think is too vulnerable and impressionable. Something doesn’t seem right there, Guv.” An unease in her voice suggested she was troubled. “Until we know more about her, I’m not comfortable leaving Jenna there. If she’s sixteen, then I’m twenty-one.”
Scott shared her concerns, but they were treading a fine line between airing on the side of caution and letting things run for another twenty-four hours whilst further investigations were carried out. He hesitated for a moment weighing up his options as he took a few steps away from the car and studied the ground, his eyes following the cracks in the pavement.
He turned and walk back towards Abby. “Tell Sian to meet you here and then go back in and have another chat with her. Do a risk assessment. We don’t know the full facts yet; she didn’t look like she was under duress, or being held against her will. I couldn’t see any signs of physical injury either. Having said that, if she’s underage, then she needs to be back in care for her own safety. If necessary, we’ll get a police protection order for her until we can confirm her age and circumstances. She won’t like it, but that’s tough, it’s in her best interests.”
Abby fumbled around in her handbag for her phone. “That was Sian on the phone earlier. She and Mike had a lead from one of the street girls. It appears that Libby was hanging around with Simone, a known hooker. She’s been done a few times for soliciting. Mike and Sian have just been round to Simone’s. Libby had been staying there for about six months, but didn’t come back on the night in question.”
“Six months? About the time Johnny dumped her,” Scott added.
“Simone took her under her wing when she found Libby wandering the streets, and one thing led to another. Her addiction needed to be fed, so she started working the streets. Simone went off with a punter the night Libby was killed. But she said that just prior to that, Libby was looking upset, scared in fact, and was looking over her shoulder, mumbling things like they’re coming for me. Libby was crying saying she’d seen Johnny and that they’d argued.”
“So, matey boy hasn’t been completely honest with us.”
“Looks like it. Guv.”
“Simone said that their pimp, Lenny West, was furious with Libby for ripping off clients in the last week or so. She’d get them to pay upfront and then run off. He was trying to find her. Here’s the interesting part: when Libby was with Johnny, he gave her things. It started with presents, moved onto booze and then ended with drugs.”
“So she became an addict by the time Simone met her?”
“Yes, looks like it,” Abby raised a brow in agreement.
“So Johnny dumped her, and she started working the streets?”
“No he didn’t dump her, Guv, she ran away. She was scared.”
“Ran away from what?”
“I don’t know, but Lenny might be a good place to start? Guess where he trains every day?”
Scott shook his head and shrugged, “Go on, surprise me.”
“Hardcore gym in Hove… Dave Fraser’s old place,” she replied tapping the roof of the car.
“That figures, a den of thieves,” he laughed. Get Mike over there to pick him up for questioning, and I will meet them later at the station. I need to be somewhere first.”
Chapter 4
The afternoon sun offered a mild and gentle heat on his shoulders as he knelt there in Angel’s corner looking at the plot. Three years on and the pain crippled him daily, a grief that threatened to starve him of his breath as emotions overcame him. Tears filled Scott’s eyes and spilled over; his shoulders shook as he cried harder. He wanted to scream and release the pain as he tugged hard at his lapel jackets. He felt lost. Emptiness replaced the life he once had.
Becky’s picture looked back at him. Her radiant smile, a memory of how much she’d enjoyed her second birthday party, surrounded by family friends and toddlers from her playgroup. Her simple, heart-shaped stone set in black marble, offered a fitting memorial for his daughter’s resting place,words he’d chosen engraved to reflect her journey: ‘Too beautiful for earth.’
Becky would have been five now, and oh, how he wished it had been him that had taken the full impact of the car. She was her mother’s daughter all right, they both had straight mousey brown hair that cascaded over their shoulders. Both sported matching fringes, and whenever Tina was doing her makeup, Becky would be by her side, delving deep in her makeup drawer. She’d be rummaging around, finding mascaras, eyeliners and lipsticks, that she’d crayoned on herself, much to her mother’s amusement.
She’d only just come into this world. Becky had so much to look forward to … “Why...why…why not me?!” He wailed as he looked upwards to the skies. Scott’s breathing heavy and erratic, he fought hard to control his emotions, wiping away tears and his nose with the sleeves of his jacket.
Seeing Libby had only brought home how fragile life could be and how another young life had been erased so easily. He had worked hard to control the dark moods and sadness that threatened to get out of control. His colleagues were unaware of the turmoil that raged inside him everyday. He could handle everything that life threw at him, but cases that included children were too close for comfort.
He gazed through red, puffy and stinging eyes at her picture, “I miss you, my baby girl, you’re my little princess, daddy’s little girl.” His voiced chocked as the words stuck in his throat. “One day we’ll be together again, I’m always thinking of you … I’m sorry I let you down. I’m so sorry I couldn’t protect you.”
As he rose, the magnetic draw to sit there and be with her tormented him. Even in her absence, a part of his life remained there by her stone.
If that was hard, S
cott knew the next stone would be just as painful. Tina. His wonderful, beautiful wife and mother to his child. He was all cried out, but his body knew the next emotional assault was just moments away.
He stopped by Tina’s grave, he remembered that beautiful pale blue dress in the picture so well. The first time she’d worn it was on their first wedding anniversary in Tunbridge Wells. They’d enjoyed a romantic meal and evening at a secluded cottage, surrounded by panoramic open spaces and lush green woodland. She’d insisted on them making love in the open. The grass their bed, the moon their illumination.
In that moment, nothing else mattered in the world, just their union, their closeness and love that bonded them as best friends, lovers, soul mates and husband and wife.
Scott’s eyes hurt; they stung from the tears and the incessant rubbing. His shoulders heavy, hung low with grief. He wanted to move on from the tragedy in his life, but the demons of the dark wouldn’t let him. They followed him, relishing every opportunity to pull him back into the abyss.
Wiping his eyes for the last time, he drew large lungfuls of air to clear his head before getting back in the car.
As he drove away from Bear Road, he knew it wouldn’t be long before he was back there again. Next time he’d bring back a little Peppa Pig stuffed toy to keep Becky company.
***
The station was a hive of activity in marked contrast to the serene setting he’d just left. Scott had stopped off at home for a change of suit and a quick splash of cool water to wash away the sadness that had dried on his face.
Lenny West was slouching casually in the chair with one arm draped over the back when Scott walked into the interview room. He was struck by the man’s unusually long neck with a large protruding Adam’s apple. West’s dark brown hair was unkempt and in need of a wash, a white t-shirt and ripped faded jeans added to his scruffy image.
Scott was greeted with a shrewd smile from the corner of West’s mouth. His bespectacled solicitor sat po-faced in a grey pin stripe suit and pink tie looking bored.
After completing the introductions and cautions for the benefit of the tape recorder, Scott took a few moments to remain silent and play a waiting game with West. His solicitor sighed and tapped his pen on the desk in frustration.
