by Jay Nadal
It was as if someone had pressed play inside her mind as the sounds and sights came flooding back. The screams, the shouts, the gunshots. Everything swirled around her, just as they had on that fateful day.
She clamped her eyes tight desperate to block out the images that played out in slow motion. If anything, they amplified her experience, trapping her inside her mind and dragging her through every torturous second. It sent a chill racing through her spine like an electrical current, shocking her entire system.
The shrinks had said that she would get over it, that time would heal the pain and anguish. How wrong they had been. The confusion was just as fresh, the events just as painful, and the anger just as raw. Not a day passed without her thinking about it, and for some reason this place kept drawing her back, as if revisiting it would help her to find the answers. Perhaps it was the guilt that gnawed away at her insides like a colony of termites in wood.
She clenched her fists, wanting to scream out loud. Fuck, fuck. Most nights, alcohol helped to suppress the urges that threatened to engulf her. But nothing could take away the final images of Anne Woodland being dragged out the car by her hair, and the desperate, silent plea for help etched on her face, as she stared in Karen’s direction. She had watched an innocent person go to their death, and had frozen through fear, unable to respond… she hadn’t been able to save her.
Completely helpless.
Karen’s heart pounded in her chest, and adrenaline raced through her veins once again. Failure had never sat comfortably with her. She chose instead to work harder than anyone else around her. But on that day in Camden, she had failed.
She walked the streets for the next hour or two, oblivious to those who passed by her, trapped in her own thoughts and the whirlwind of emotions that smothered her. During times like this, she felt she belonged nowhere. She questioned her purpose. And teetered on the edge of an existential crisis. What was this all for? Every criminal they caught and locked away was soon replaced by another willing volunteer ready to carry on the violence and misery that ruled their world.
She needed a drink, a proper drink, one that would blot out the virus in her mind.
19
The first signs of light pierced Karen’s eyeballs like laser beams as she flickered awake. She’d paid thirty pounds for an Uber to get her back to Epping. After putting her key in the door at three a.m., she’d dropped her bag in the hallway and collapsed into bed, fully clothed.
Now, she rubbed her eyes and stared up at the ceiling. Licking her dry lips, she tried to swallow the sticky mess of mucus that had collected in the back of her throat. She rolled on to one side and pulled the duvet over her head, a muffled groan signalling her displeasure and lack of sleep.
“Why do I keep doing this?” she muttered, as she threw off her duvet twenty minutes later. She made her way to the kitchen, and flicked on the kettle, before pouring herself a glass of water. The liquid slipped down her throat, jolting her senses, and etched away at the dehydration that had left her with a parched mouth, and a dull, heavy head.
Whilst the kettle boiled, Karen stripped down and stepped slowly into the shower, her toes flinching as they touched the chilled ceramic floor. Turning the water on high, she let it beat over her head in steamy rivulets. She closed her eyes to the water as the heat soaked into her skin before leaning against the cool tiles as her weak and tired legs threatened to buckle.
Her mind was in shreds; each time showing her the images of Camden like photographs from a ghoulish album.
Her thoughts turned towards where she had ended up last night, a random bar in one of the backstreets of Camden. A place where she could let loose and take her mind off the job. Random flashbacks darted in and out of her awareness. As the night had worn, her thoughts had become looser, her shoulders more relaxed, and her body yearning some normality. That’s when she had caught Neil’s attention. She couldn’t remember much of the conversation, but they had spent a few hours chatting, egging each other on to see how many tequila slammers they could take. It was the break she needed, neither of them touching on their personal circumstances. Just two adults, letting off steam.
She smiled to herself as she recalled ending up at Neil’s apartment. They had ripped their clothes off in the doorway as he fumbled with the key. Vivid recollections flooded her awareness of the sex that followed before they’d even made it to the bedroom. The sofa, the kitchen table, and then his bedroom. It was a release that her mind and body craved.
She remembered waking up in the early hours of the morning, Neil fast asleep by her side. He stirred as she retrieved her scattered clothes, a sock behind the sofa, her bra strewn across the table and her knickers under the table. As she called for an Uber she smiled inwardly at the shocked expression on his face when he asked her to stay for breakfast, more out of feeling bad than anything else. She had explained that it was a one-off, and there were no hard feelings. Just two consenting adults having a bit of fun, and nothing more.
From the look on his face, Karen figured he was used to making excuses in the middle of the night, and with the tables turned, he wasn’t too sure how to handle it.
There were no expectations, and that suited Karen. She had convinced herself a long time ago that she wasn’t the relationship type. Being a die-hard commitment-phobe, she had thrown all her energy into her career. Family life growing up had been good, but events in her childhood with her younger sister had left an indelible mark which had frightened her ever since.
The occasional casual encounter was her way of expressing herself and satisfying the tactile needs that her battery-operated friends couldn’t. Despite her streak of promiscuity, and no matter how drunk she was, safe sex with protection was never far from her thoughts. If there was one thing she wanted to avoid, it was getting pregnant.
The police officer stood to one side as Karen and Jade breezed through the front gates of Taylor’s house. Two squad cars followed Jade’s car, and their arrival didn’t go unnoticed as the odd bystander and the last few remaining journalists snapped away on their cameras.
Karen exited the car and marched towards the front door, not looking back to see where the uniformed officers were. She knocked hard, and then rang the doorbell, before knocking once more. If the intention was to startle Diane, and catch her off guard, Karen had achieved that aim.
Annoyance and confusion flashed in Diane’s eyes as she opened the door. Her lips turned into a simple “O”as she saw the increased police presence standing behind Karen.
“You’re having a laugh, ain’t you? You were only here a few hours ago. Are you trying to harass me or something? I’ve lost Jack, and you can think of nothing better to do than keep knocking on my door. You should be out there looking for whoever did it.” Diane fumed, jabbing a finger towards the main road.
“We are, Diane. But we’re following several lines of investigation. Where’s Ben?”
The question took Diane by surprise, her lips making silent movements.
“Um… um. He’s upstairs in his room. Why?”
Karen brushed past Diane, ignoring her question, and the remonstrating that followed. Often there was a need to arrive without warning, so potential suspects didn’t have an opportunity to corroborate alibis or get their stories straight. Ben was twenty years old, an adult in the eyes of the law, and couldn’t hide behind his mum.
Jade pulled Diane to one side and presented her with a search warrant. She also explained that because Ben had made threats to kill Taylor, Ben needed questioning as part of the investigation.
Once inside, uniformed officers moved off in different directions, their heavy footsteps echoing around the cavernous hallway. Karen had given a remit instructing them in what they needed to search for.
Karen was in no mood to play games this morning. A thumping headache and just a few hours of sleep had left her grizzly and impatient. She had made her way to the first-floor landing, where she opened each door until she found Ben’s bedroom.
He sat on his bed with his pillows stuffed behind him, and his laptop resting on his legs. Plugged in with a set of headphones he hadn’t heard the commotion downstairs, and jerked when Karen poked her head around the door. He yanked off his headphones and stared at her with a startled look on his face.
“Who are you?” he asked, his voice cracking in fear.
Karen pulled out her warrant card. “Detective Inspector Heath. I’m investigating the death of Jack Taylor. I’d like you to come down to the station with us to answer a few questions.”
Ben ran his hand through his dark brown hair and swallowed hard. “Why me?”
“I can explain all of that when you come down to the station. Let’s just say new evidence has come to light which requires us to have a chat.”
Karen noticed the injuries to his face were far worse than she had first thought. The bruising was coming out, and it looked as if he had just done three rounds in the boxing ring.
“Where’s my mum?” he demanded as he pushed his laptop to one side, and scrambled off the bed to make his way towards the door.
Karen rolled her eyes and stepped to one side to allow him to pass as he shot by her. She turned and followed just a few steps behind. “Slow down, Ben. Your mum isn’t going anywhere in a hurry.”
She caught up with him downstairs just as he reached his mum.
“What’s going on, Mum?” he asked, searching her eyes for an answer.
“It’s okay, baby. It’s just standard bullshit. The Old Bill are scratching around trying to find anyone to blame, and we are the easiest targets because we were the closest to Jack. Isn’t that right, Inspector…” Diane glared Karen.
“You can say whatever you want, Diane, but new information has surfaced and we need Ben to explain a few things to us.”
“Is he under arrest?”
“No. He’s helping us with our enquiries. He will be cautioned at the station, but he will be free to go whenever he wants. And you are more than welcome to arrange legal representation for him, or we can arrange for a duty solicitor, should you think either are necessary?”
Diane scowled at Karen, but Karen held her steely gaze, neither woman willing to back down.
Diane relented, turning to Ben. “It will be fine, babe. If they give you shit, you call me, and I’ll arrange for our brief to come and sort it.”
Ben shot Karen a cold stare before he turned and made his way to the car outside accompanied by Jade.
The angry glare was just the start, then came the strut, the slamming and the clipped words as he disappeared.
Karen offered Diane a sarcastic smile. “Thank you for your time, Diane. My other officers will remain whilst they continue their search. I’ve asked them to contact me should you impede them.”
20
Ben cast a lonely figure sitting in the interview room. As he stared around the room, he noticed little in the way of creature comforts. He sat at a small table which had four chairs around it. A black tape recorder machine sat to one side of the table. He tapped furiously on the side of his chair as he slouched back, and stared up at the ceiling before blowing out his cheeks.
“Bored, bored, bored,” he muttered.
Karen watched him from the observation room. A small CCTV camera mounted high on the wall offered anyone watching a clear view into any interview being conducted.
“How do you want to play this, boss?” Jade asked.
Karen sighed. She hadn’t eaten or drunk anything all day, and still suffered the effects of dehydration. Her head felt heavy and her body felt sluggish. She was getting too old for this, and at that moment she groaned. Her friend Debbie had texted her this morning about a night out in the City, and Karen had forgotten to reply earlier. She’d do it once the interview ended.
“We need to explore the death threats. I don’t give a crap he’s been beaten up. That doesn’t afford him any slack. We stick to finding out how much he hated Jack.”
Karen held off for as long as she could before interviewing Ben. She wanted to keep him waiting, knowing it would unsettle him. But she had another reason to delay the interview. She wanted to give the police officers searching Taylor’s residence enough time to find anything linking Ben to the investigation. News had come through that the search team had seized clothes Ben was wearing on the night of Taylor’s murder. Those items would take time to process, but the discovery of several mobile phones in Ben’s bedroom gave Karen her first breakthrough.
Armed with the information, Karen and Jade stepped into the interview suite.
If their arrival was meant to panic him, it had the opposite effect. He continued to slouch but lowered his head as in prayer. When Karen called his name, his gaze rose slowly to view the two officers. Ben greeted them with the full force of his smoky dark green eyes, the exotic black flecks within holding the illumination from the fluorescent lighting above.
Karen switched on the tape recorder, and went through the time, date, officers present, and standard caution.
As Jade readied herself with her notepad and pen, Karen took a few moments to flick through her case file. The deliberate silence was intentional on her part.
“Those are nasty injuries, Ben. Did you get those seen to?” Karen asked.
Ben shook his head, continuing to hold his stare.
“Ben, we need you to verbalise your answers for the benefits of the tape,” Karen requested, pointing towards the black tape recorder.
“No.” Ben sighed.
“Your mum said Jack attacked you. He must have been upset to do that to you?”
“Listen. Why are you asking me that? You…” Ben gestured in Jade’s direction, “already know from when you took my swab and took a statement from me. It’s no secret that wanker did it to me.”
Karen nodded. “I guess it must have left you feeling… angry?”
“You get used to it. Jack’s gone. And that’s the main thing. He can’t hurt me, or my mum.”
Karen’s eyes narrowed. “You sound pleased that he’s dead?”
“Of course, I am. He made my mum’s life a misery. He made our lives a misery. And whenever I stood up for her, he had a pop at me. Mum was too weak. She was scared shitless of him. She once said she’d walk away from him if he ever hit me again… but she never did.”
“And why’s that?”
“Because he would have come after her. She knew too much about his business. He needed to control her and keep her close.”
“So, it’s convenient for you and your mum he’s gone? You both get to inherit a sizeable chunk of his fortune.”
“Look. I know you’re trying to get me to say I killed Jack. But I didn’t. He had beaten me to a pulp that night. I can’t even remember falling asleep; I was in that much pain. If you think for one minute I had the strength to crawl out of my bed, find a gun, walk down to the end of the garden, and shoot him, then you must be on a different planet.”
He had a fair point in Karen’s opinion. The injuries he had sustained were severe, and in the hours that followed, the stiffness would have intensified, and the pain would’ve increased. If he had confronted Jack, those things alone would have put him at a distinct disadvantage… unless he had help?
Karen changed tactics. “One of my officers discovered a message on a mobile phone they retrieved from your bedroom. It matches the exact message received on the phone given to Dean Macholl. You know the one, Ben… The one inviting him to Jack Taylor’s birthday party.”
She let the bombshell settle for a few minutes.
Ben shrugged his shoulders. “So?”
Karen crossed her arms and laid on a mock look of confusion. “I don’t understand this. Why would you send a message to someone who has had no contact with Taylor as far as we know in the past five years? And more to the point, someone who wasn’t welcome?”
The slightest of smirks cracked on Ben’s face.
“Mum said Jack and Dean had fallen out, and that we were not to mention Dean’s name in the house. All I k
new was that Jack was glad that Dean was out of the picture. So, I couldn’t think of a better way to ruin his birthday party.”
“So, is that why you’ve threatened to kill him in the past?”
Ben’s eyes twitched, as he sensed where the conversation was headed. “Hold on, hold on. I know what you’re trying to do. Just because I threatened to kill him, it doesn’t mean I did. I wanted him out of our lives. I didn’t kill him; I swear. He hurt my mum. It was always just me and my mum. And then she changed when she knocked about with Jack. She used to be a confident person. She used to be fun. Now she’s a nervous wreck and looking over her shoulder. Mum let herself down by being with him.”
Karen leant into the table and placed her elbows on the surface. “Listen, we’re just trying to find out what happened to Taylor. You and your mum have both been through a tough time, but that was your mum’s choice. But my question is why did you contact Dean Macholl? Did you hope he’d kill Jack?”
Ben glanced around the room, looking for anything that would capture his attention. He knew they were scrutinising his every move, and analysing his every word. He reached forward and grabbed the paper cup. The few sips of cold water moistened his dry mouth and bought him some time.
“Whether or not you know it, there’s a lot of beef between Jack and Dean. I ain’t telling you nothing that’s not already known on the street.” He gestured, throwing a thumb towards the window. “Jack was behind the raid on the bookies that went Pete Tong. And Jack spread the word on the street that Dean was the one who’d shot the cashier.”
