‘Will you take a cheque?’ she asked.
The scowl she received in return answered that question.
‘Thought not.’ Tess dug into her pocket, opened up her work wallet. She had been careful to move her own money to another pocket so they would think she didn’t have any more. She counted out the bills into her hand. ‘A thousand. Now I need you to sign this …’
She produced a form, handed it to Renny along with a pen. Renny took his eyes off the money in order to frown suspiciously at it. ‘What’s this?’
‘A release form. An invoice. To say where you got the money from. Standard procedure.’
‘I’m not signin’ anythin’.’
Tess began to re-pocket the money. ‘Then thanks for your time.’
‘Wait.’ Renny watched the money disappearing. ‘Gis the pen.’ He took the pen, filled in his name and address details, handed it back. Tess pocketed the form, brought out the notes again.
‘All yours. This better be worth it. If it’s not I’ll be after you. I’ve got your details.’ She patted her pocket.
‘Try it.’ There was defiance in Renny’s eyes but also fear. Tess doubted that Renny’s parents – if he had parents – would see any of the money. So the threat of an appearance by a journalist at his house would keep the kid in order. She had him. There would be no more trouble tonight.
‘Let’s go, then,’ said Tess, gesturing for Renny and Pez to lead.
They had done. And now Tess was totally lost.
Broken glass and cracked cement underfoot. Dark, threatening shapes cast by haphazard lighting. Everything lit by sickly sodium orange or lurking in black shadow: graffitied walls, rusted handrails, stinking skips. And the triple-S cacophony – screams, shouts and sirens – bleeding in and out of the night.
Tess kept her voice quiet. ‘So where is it we’re going again?’
‘Shut up,’ hissed Renny. ‘We’re nearly there.’
Anne Marie looked round the corner of the block of flats, scanned the open space in front of her, tried to make out shapes, movement, anything. Or anything resembling Jack.
He had gone to the takeaway hours ago and not returned. She had been arguing with Rob and hadn’t noticed at first. Jack did this often, just quietly slipped out of the flat, usually when Rob turned up. Anne Marie knew he wasn’t the best of men but he was certainly the best she had ever had. He had been good to her. Better than some.
But if he ever laid a finger on Jack he was out. And he knew it.
When it had looked like becoming serious with Rob she had dropped some hints about her past life. A childhood in prison, abuse in her past. Just enough to be honest, not enough for him to walk away. That had happened too many times in the past and she had learned from it.
It hadn’t been enough. He had asked more questions. Eventually she told him. Not everything but near enough. And he hadn’t judged her. More importantly, he had stayed around. Became protective of her. He wasn’t bad. But he had his own demons. She just wished he didn’t drink so much.
She had wanted him to be another father to Jack but it hadn’t worked out that way. Rob had accepted that if he wanted to be with Anne Marie then Jack was part of the deal. Jack, for his part, had been mature enough to realize that his mother had needs that only a partner could meet and had accepted Rob. But it was always uneasy. And just lately with her bringing in the money and Rob incapable of finding, or unwilling to find, any work his moods had become blacker, his drinking heavier. She had better wrap the book up as quickly as possible and move on to something else.
Moving on. Her life was a constant moving on. For one reason or another. She tried not to dwell on it too much. Don’t give the bad spirits a reason to stay.
At the thought of bad spirits her hands began to shake, her legs felt weak. The wounds on the palms of her hands beneath the bandages felt sticky. She tried to push the thoughts from her mind, concentrate on looking for Jack.
She walked around the corner of her block, the geography not yet imprinted in her mind, still having to think where she was going. Crossed the main forecourt. No one about. A murder on an estate tends to have that effect, she thought. Just lights on behind curtains, doors firmly closed on landings.
She moved cautiously, watching for any sudden movements. She felt scared on the estate, as she had on most estates she had lived on. If she had been housed there, she often thought, then who else was there? She knew kids shouldn’t carry knives, but in a way, she didn’t blame them. She might have done if she was their age.
She reached the row of shops where the takeaway was. An array of graffitied metal shutters and grilles. The off-licence was still open, dispensing cheap, sugary alcohol and cigarettes to the local kids over a counter in the window behind a metal cage, the Indian owners no longer taking chances. Next to it was the takeaway. It didn’t really have a name just an illuminated sign advertising what it sold: pizzas, burgers, kebabs, fried chicken, fish and chips. There were photos stuck to the glass of the supposed food, full colour, unattainable; wish-fulfilment of a level the food dispensed there could never reach.
No, that wasn’t true, she thought. The pizzas were quite nice.
The lights were on, it was still open. She walked to the doorway, stepped inside. Immediately the smell of hot, dirty frying oil hit her. She didn’t find it unpleasant. Years of exposure had made it a comforting smell to her, the nearest thing to a happy memory of home cooking that she had.
The two men behind the counter looked up at her approach. Dark-skinned, but she couldn’t place their ethnic origin. Could be anywhere from Greece to Iran for all she knew. One of them gave a weary half-smile as she approached the till, the other turned his back, busying himself with cleaning down surfaces.
‘Hiya,’ she said. ‘Have you seen a lad?’
‘We see a lot of lads in here.’
‘Well, he’s about this high …’ She gestured with her hand. ‘Tall, skinny. Long hair. Wearin’ a black jacket and jeans. New trainers. And he was supposed to be gettin’ some tea from here. She thought for a moment, couldn’t remember what he had actually gone to get. ‘Pizza or somethin’. Kebab. Have you seen him? Has he been in?’
The man behind the counter shrugged, clearly disappointed at not making a sale. His eyes went to her bandaged hands, the dressing now loose and dirty. She put her hands behind her back, kept talking.
‘You haven’t seen him, then? He’s new around here. We haven’t been moved in long.’
Another shrug, a shake of the head.
‘He has long hair?’ The second man spoke without turning his back, his hand still cleaning the work surface.
‘Yeah, that’s right, long hair,’ said Anne Marie, suddenly nervous over what might have happened to him.
‘Listening to music?’ The man pointed to his ears.
‘Yeah.’
‘He was in earlier. Couple of hours.’
A couple of hours … Had she really been drinking and arguing with Rob for that long? A shaft of guilt ran through her. Sort yourself out.
‘D’you know where he is now?’ She realized how stupid the question was as soon as it left her lips. ‘I mean, did he say where he was goin’?’
The first man shook his head. Anne Marie looked from one to the other, waiting as if for Jack to appear or for them to tell her where he was. The second man stopped cleaning, turned and spoke.
‘After what happened to that boy last night everybody worries.’
Anne Marie nodded, thanked them and, her hands unclasped from behind her back, left the shop. Panic was rising in her chest. She tried to tamp it down, calm herself with the deep breathing exercises she had been taught. She had to think.
Where was he? Where would he have gone?
She didn’t know. She looked round again, chose a direction and walked towards it. If she had believed in God she would have prayed that Jack was at the end of it.
As it was she just hoped.
‘Here.’ Renny stopped walking
, dropped down behind a brick wall. Tess stopped walking as Renny spoke, did exactly what the boy did. Pez too.
‘What am I looking at?’ said Tess, risking a glance over the wall.
Renny pulled her back down. ‘Fuck off, man, if they see wuh, they’ll fuckin’ have wuh.’
‘Right.’ Tess stayed where she was.
As she had looked up, she saw a flash of a Tesco sign, an industrial estate, a car park. There were cars in the car park. Revving up, lights full on, the drivers, passengers and hangers-on clustered round, drinking, smoking, talking, laughing.
‘None of them seem too worried about a possible murderer,’ said Tess.
‘That’s because one of them did it,’ said Renny.
‘Right.’ Tess felt that shiver of excitement when she knew she was on to something. She nodded. ‘Which one?’
‘Dunno,’ said Renny.
‘Then how do you know it’s one of them?’
‘’Cos we were here last night,’ said Pez. ‘Aye, an’ we saw them—’
A kick from Renny shut him up. Too late, Tess had heard.
‘You were here last night?’ she said. Renny reluctantly nodded. ‘With Calvin?’ Another reluctant nod, ‘What happened?’
‘Calvin went home,’ said Renny. We were down there with the drivers an’ that, an’ Calvin wanted a ride an’ they wouldn’t give him one. So he went home.’
Tess looked between the two of them. ‘And that’s it? He went home?’
‘Aye,’ said Pez. ‘You gonna give us the rest of the money now?’
Tess ignored the question. ‘Did you see anyone follow him? Did he argue with anyone?’
‘He bumped into someone, I think,’ Renny said. ‘I think they might have followed him.’
Pez looked at Renny, clearly wanting to speak and wanting permission. Renny stared at the other boy, silencing him. Pez’s head dropped. He said nothing.
‘Who was this person that he bumped into then?’
‘Dunno his name, like,’ said Renny. ‘But he’s a dealer. Off the estate.’
‘Would you recognize him again?’
Renny shrugged. Affected a look of disinterest. ‘Dunno.’
Tess risked a glance over the wall. She saw individuals on the periphery of the group who made no attempt to join in, who only spoke when spoken to and who, from the way their hands were moving about faster than a street-corner card shark, were dealing.
Tess felt excitement rise with her. She sensed she was on to something here, an aspect none of her colleagues or rivals – and they were all her. rivals, really – had discovered yet. This could be the break, her entrance into the big time. She tried not to let her excitement show, tried to remain professional.
‘So which one is he?’
‘The one in the baseball cap,’ said Pez.
Tess took another look. ‘They’re all wearing baseball caps.’
‘Well, he’s one of them, then,’ said Renny, smugness in his voice. ‘So where’s the rest of our money?’
‘Aye,’ said Pez, shuffling about as if he had worms, ‘where’s wor money, like?’
‘You’ll get your money, don’t worry,’ said Tess.
‘Good,’ said Renny.
‘As soon as you tell me which one followed Calvin.’
Anger flashed in Renny’s eyes. Even in the dark Tess saw it, catching in the streetlight, shining like a blade.
‘That wasn’t the deal,’ said Renny. ‘You bitch.’
‘Deal’s changed, boys,’ said Tess, thinking quickly, trying to make the situation work for her as smoothly and cost-effectively as she could. ‘You held out on me. Didn’t tell me the whole story, did you? Now if you’d said all that at the beginning we’d have had a different deal. But because you didn’t tell me the truth, well … that changes things.’
‘Bitch,’ said Renny again, and at that moment Tess felt sure that, boy or not, he could do her some serious damage.
Negotiate from a position of strength, Tess thought. No matter what. ‘Deal’s a deal,’ Tess said, hoping there was no fear in her eyes. The boy was beginning to unnerve her. ‘Take it or leave it.’
Renny said nothing. Pez looked between the two of them.
‘Well, gentlemen,’ said Tess, making to move, ‘if that’s everything, then thank you for a wonderful evening—’
‘Stay where you are.’
All three of them looked up. Four figures stood over them, the outwardly pointed flashlight beams rendering them nothing but dark outlines, hulking with menace.
Tess was the first to speak. She stood up. There was no need for secrecy now. ‘Who the fuck are you?’
‘Detective Inspector Nattrass,’ the speaker said, holding out a warrant card. ‘And you are?’
‘Tess Preston, the Globe. These boys here were just giving me a tour of the area, Detective Inspector.’
‘Well, your tour guides have just led you right into a police surveillance operation. So I suggest you ask them to show you some other sights.’
Tess felt that familiar thrill run through her again, the one she felt when hunches were played out and everything started knitting together. ‘Would this surveillance operation have anything to do with the murder of Calvin Bell, Detective Inspector Nattrass?’
‘Just go back to your hotel room, please, Ms Preston. Better still, take yourself off home.’
‘But Detective Inspector—’
‘There will be a press conference in the morning. If you’re still here, we’ll see you at that. But for now I suggest you leave. Or my men will have to escort you.’
Tess realized she had no option but to do as she was told. She looked at the boys. ‘Well, boys, gonna show me back to civilization?’
The three of mem trudged off. It didn’t matter whether Renny came up with a name or not Tess was on to something.
She knew it.
Losing a child. It was the worst thing that could happen to a mother. Anne Marie knew that. It was something that she carried with her every second of the day. Something that, no matter what she did with the rest of her life, she could never fully atone for. Because there was a part of her that would never allow it.
As she searched the estate for Jack and felt that panic rise once again, she knew, not for the first time, what it must feel like. She had to find him. Get things sorted out. Once and for all. Sort it and move forward.
And then she saw him. Or someone she thought was him. In the only quiet spot on the estate. Sitting on a bench at the top of the hill, looking down over the Tyne as it slopped along to the North Sea, the lights of the tall riverside apartments twinkling, throwing fairy-tale reflections into the water, making that kind of life look unattainable from where Anne Marie stood.
She walked up to the bench. Jack was sitting there, legs pulled up to his chin, arms wrapped round his calves, MP3 player clamped to his ears.
She sat down next to him. If she didn’t know better, she could start believing in God again.
‘Hello, son,’ she said.
He looked up, startled, turned off the music. He gave her a look that said he was pleased to see her but that gradually became fearful.
‘I’ve been worried sick about you,’ she said. ‘Where’ve you been?’
He shrugged. ‘Just walking. Here and there.’
‘Why didn’t you come home?’
He sighed, rocked backwards and forwards slightly. ‘You were fighting.’
‘No, we weren’t.’
‘You were going to fight.’
Anne Marie’s turn to sigh. ‘I was worried about you.’ She looked at the empty wrappers beside him. ‘Is that my dinner?’
He looked fearful again. ‘He’ll kill me.’
Anne Marie caught the hurt in his eyes as, having spoken his words, he looked away. Her heart broke. She remembered her training, her counselling. She kept her voice calm. ‘No he won’t. I won’t let him.’
Jack rocked.
‘I won’t let him hurt you ever. I won’t
let anyone hurt you ever.’
They sat there in silence. Eventually, Anne Marie gently placed her arm round Jack, her bandaged hand resting on his shoulder. He moved into her. They sat like that for a while, neither speaking, neither moving.
‘Come on,’ she said eventually, ‘let’s go home.’
Jack nodded. Got up and followed her.
Nothing’s sorted, she thought. Nothing’s different. Just another ceasefire. Another little piece of peace. Maybe that’s it, she thought. Maybe that’s all you can expect.
They walked back to the flat in silence.
‘Look.’ It was Pez who spoke. He was pointing across the open forecourt, stopped moving to do it. The other two followed his gaze. Tess saw a skinny teenage boy, hair perhaps a little too long for the area, and a woman, presumably his mother. Dressed like an ageing goth or rock casualty on her night off. Heavyset, long-haired.
‘It’s that kid from school,’ said Pez. ‘The new kid. The weird one that wouldn’t give you his trainers.’
Renny just nodded, clearly not happy to be reminded of that loss of face in front of a stranger. Tess tried not to smile. She looked again at the mother and son. They moved beneath a streetlight and her face was suddenly illuminated. She jumped. Thought for a minute she knew her.
‘She just arrived, you said?’ said Tess.
‘Aye,’ said Pez.
‘Where from?’
‘Dunno. The lad talks funny like.’
Probably talks properly and you can’t understand him, thought Tess. ‘Has he said anything about where he’s from? Dropped any clues?’
‘Nah.’ Pez again. Renny clearly found the subject of the boy uninteresting. ‘We don’t have that much to do with him.’
Tess nodded, not really listening. She was watching the mother. Even in this light and from this distance, she thought, there was definitely something familiar about her. Her looks, the way she walked. And the boy. Something connected to the boy …
It was like spotting an actor on TV and not being able to place what they had appeared in before. She thought it was something important, though. She would give it some thought. Hope an answer came to her.
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