Call & Response

by J. J. Salkeld

  ‘Christ on a bike’ said Sergeant Morrish, as they waited for the ambulance to take Umar Afridi to hospital. ‘Who’d have thought young Henry had it in him, Pepper?’

  ‘It was never in doubt, mate. Not for a second. The kid’s one of us, and I don’t care what posh school he went to. And the bloke was armed and all. He had a fucking great big carving knife on him. I saw it.’

  ‘Don’t worry, love. It’s bagged and secure, don’t you worry about that. If anyone tries to give you any shit later on about excessive force then I’ll just wave it in their face, and see how they like it. But you really should be in an ambo, love, your neck looks right sore.’

  ‘It’s nothing. I’ll just sound like I smoke forty a day for a bit. It’s the bump on the back of my head that’s worst, anyway.’

  ‘Has that been looked at, love? I’ll take you to A&E myself, if needs be.’

  ‘There’s no need, Pete. A couple of drinks tonight and I’ll be reet, you just see.’

  ‘All right, we’ll see you later on then, love. We’ll all have to go back in and make our statements anyway, won’t we? Those lads you nicked are bound to kick up as much of a shit-storm about this as they can.’

  ‘Let them. It won’t make any difference. And the fact that all three of them assaulted us is interesting, don’t you think?’

  ‘They’re all involved in the sex abuse, you mean? Makes sense, I suppose.’

  ‘I’d lay you odds that tomorrow morning Mo will drop his brothers right in the shit, and they knew it when we turned up. They’ve got just as much to lose as he has, I bet. You’ve got to be pretty desperate to come at a copper with a carving knife, unless you’re off your head on drink and drugs. And I assume that these boys are clean, at this time in the morning.’

  ‘Maybe, but when we walked round to check the place was safe and secure I noticed two bottles of vodka and a couple of wraps in the kitchen.’

  ‘Brilliant. That ties right in with the girls’ accounts. All three were here once or twice, and they all report being given booze. Sandy’s going to have a bloody field day in there, by the sounds of it.’

  ‘Aye, they weren’t criminal masterminds, these lads. But then, when are they ever? It’s as if they all think they’ll never get caught, no matter what they’re up to.’

  ‘I know what you mean. Maybe they’ve just got lazy, these lads. This family has been living here for ten years plus, so Christ knows how long it’s been going on for. Anyway, we’ll find out tomorrow, won’t we?’

  ‘Aye.’

  ‘And of course the bastards nearly got away with it anyway, didn’t they? If that poor kid hadn’t walked into the station, and if Rex hadn’t handled it so well, then we might not be standing here now.’

  The pub was almost empty, but the group of cops over by the bar were filling the place with noise. When Pepper turned up the last of the civilian customers were just leaving. And she didn’t blame them, not really. Adam held the door open for her and the lads started applauding as soon as they saw her.

  A couple of hours later her headache had gone, although so had Adam. Pepper remembered introducing him to everyone, she was almost sure that she’d at least done that, but after that things became increasingly hazy. It was time to get home she thought, but the food was only just being served.

  She sat at a table with Copeland and Armstrong, and realised, after a minute or so, that Armstrong was actually a good deal more drunk than she was.

  ‘He hasn’t bought a drink all night’ said Copeland, by way of explanation.

  ‘You mean bastard’ said Pepper, pointing with her fork.

  ‘No-one would let me get a round in,’ said Armstrong. ‘I’m sorry, Pepper. I’ll get them in now, shall I?’

  ‘No, no, you’re all right. Sorry, I misunderstood. I’m a bit….’ She tailed off, and tried to open one of the little condiment envelopes that had come with her fish and chips. Eventually she got it open, and sprinkled it liberally over her plate. ‘Bollocks,’ she said when she’d finished, ‘has either of you got a pepper you don’t want?’

  Copeland handed her his. ‘So that’s why they call you Pepper then, is it? Because you like a lot of it, and I do mean a lot, on your food?’

  ‘Aye, of course it is. There’s nowt savoury that pepper doesn’t improve. It’s as simple as that. But why did you think it was, anyway?

  ‘I don’t know, because you’re a bit peppery or something.’

  ‘A bit peppery?’ She laughed so hard that she knocked her knife off the table, followed by the sachet of tartare sauce. ‘It’s a good one, is that. A bit peppery.’

  ‘Isn’t that your phone, anyway?’ said Copeland.

  ‘Aye. Shit, where is it?’ Pepper started rummaging around in her handbag, and Copeland picked it up off the table and handed it to her. ‘Cheers, mate’ she said.

  Armstrong kept eating, as if it required a huge effort of concentration, but Copeland just watched Pepper as she listened to whoever had called her. He could see her sobering up by the second.

  ‘Calm down, love. Where shall we meet? Aye, see you there in twenty minutes.’

  She rang off, and started in on her food.

  ‘Need a hand, Pepper?’ asked Copeland.

  ‘No, mate, you’re all right. An informant, well more an old friend really, she just wants to talk. I’ll be absolutely fine. Don’t you worry about me.’

  The supermarket was a ten minute walk away, and Pepper was glad to have the opportunity to get away and to clear her head. It would be a long day tomorrow, and she didn’t want to make any mistakes then. She tried not to think about Ashley and the other girls. It just made her angry. And she didn’t want to be angry in the morning.

  Linda was waiting for her in front of the store, near the trolley park. A few late evening shoppers came past, walking fast. They were probably hungry, thought Pepper, and wondered if she should pick up a few things while she was there. But she was too tired for that. She smiled at her friend as she approached, but Linda didn’t smile back.

  ‘You’re a right hard cow, Pepper’ she said.

  ‘Blimey, love, where did that come from?’

  ‘The word’s out on Gary Flynn.’

  ‘Sorry, you’ve lost me there, love.’

  ‘Dai Young reckons that Flynn’s grassed on him to you lot. Flynn’s absolutely shitting himself. His mum was in here earlier, and she told me. He’s hiding out in Flimby, apparently.’

  ‘And his mum told you that, did she? When she was standing paying for her shopping, like?’

  ‘Aye.’

  ‘Well I don’t give Flynn much chance then, do you? Dai will find him about five minutes if that’s the case. All he needs to do is send a couple of his lads round to Elsie Flynn’s place, and they’d have all the details in no time. One way or another, like.’

  ‘Christ, Pepper, you don’t think…’

  ‘Dai Young is a violent criminal, Linda. How do you think he operates? He’s not a businessman, love, even if he tries to look like one. Violence is what he does. But thanks for letting me know. It’s useful intel, is that.’

  ‘Don’t give me that, Pepper. You already knew that Flynn was a marked man, didn’t you?’

  ‘No, of course not. How could I? Have you been sniffing the till rolls again, love?’

  ‘Don’t talk daft. You told Dai. That’s why you already know. I was just sitting there, when it was quiet and no-one was coming through my till, and I realised. I know you, Pepper. If you can’t nick Gary Flynn for what he did to your mate then you’d not think twice about dropping him right in it.’

  ‘You’re right, I wouldn’t. But I didn’t do it, love. Cross my heart. And don’t you worry about Gary Flynn. I’m sure he’ll be able to persuade Dai Young that he’s not a grass. And, if he doesn’t, we’ll know who the body is when it turns up in Maryport harbour in a week or two, won’t we? What with the crabs, and the bloating and what-not, we usually have to rely on dental records. The fingers have usually
been nibbled off, see.’

  Linda shook her head and turned away. ’You’re a hard bitch, Pepper. And you’re dreaming if you think you’ll get any more from me, ever. When it suits you I bet you’ll tell folks that I’m a grass, and all.’

  ‘Don’t be daft, love. I’d never tell anyone about you. No-one at work knows, and they never will. You tell me stuff because you want your old man’s mates put away, and I respect that, even if it should be Tommy who you should be trying to get nicked. He’s your real problem, love.’

  ‘Says you, a single mum with those two pathetic blokes sniffing around the whole time. You’re just using them, Pepper, just like you use me. And you’re in no position to give relationship advice are you? Where’s your lad’s dad at? Who is he, even? You want to know everything about everyone else, but you’re not so bloody keen for anyone to know owt about you, are you?’

  Pepper suddenly felt very sober, tired, and a little cold. ‘Look, love, I have to go. Let’s have a proper talk in a day or two, OK? I’m right in the middle of something at the moment.’

  ‘That’s right, you piss right off. Just like you always do. But I’ll tell you one thing, Pepper. Tommy’s a lazy bastard, and he’ll never change, but he’s my kids’ dad, and I’ll stand by him. No matter bloody what.’

  Pepper walked away quickly, and tried to focus on the case, and not on what her friend had said. She walked even faster through the centre of town, hardly noticing anyone she passed, until a young woman caught her eye. She was approaching, walking slowly, and even with her face in shadow it was obvious that she was in distress.

  ‘Are you all right, love?’ said Pepper. ‘Don’t worry, I’m a Police officer.’

  The woman looked her full in the face, and Pepper could see the parallel lines of tears running down her cheeks.

  ‘Leave me alone.’

  Pepper recognised her now. ‘It’s Amanda, isn’t it?’

  ‘No. Just leave me alone, copper.’

  ‘Can I help? I will if I can.’

  ‘I’m going to lose the kids. They say I can’t look after them.’

  ‘And can you?’

  ‘Of course I can.’

  ‘So who’s looking after them now?’

  ‘My mum. You’re all the same, aren’t you? Pretend to be my friend, but all you really want to do is tell me how to live, and punish me when I don’t do exactly what you say.’

  ‘You do nick stuff, love. I’m not sure what else you expect us to do. We can’t turn a blind eye, can we? We are coppers, when all’s said and done.’

  ‘I was nicking food, for fuck’s sake. I don’t want those snoopers saying that I can’t look after my Ryan. He’s not even one.’

  ‘I know it’s hard, love, but you’ll get through it.’

  ‘What the fuck would you know, eh? I’m just doing my best. That’s all I’m doing.’

  ‘Bollocks you are’, said Pepper, finding herself surprised by both her tone and volume. ‘You don’t have to be a victim your whole life. What kind of example are you setting your little lad, eh? You want him to be inside when he’s eighteen and on smack when he’s twenty? Take a bit of responsibility for your own life, lass, for fuck’s sake.’

  Amanda started running, and Pepper was too tired to chase after her.

  ‘Stop. Look, I’m sorry. I hope they don’t take your kid….’ But the girl was already too far away. ‘Shit’ said Pepper, and a passing couple looked at her like she was the problem. She tried to smile, and held up a hand in apology.

  Justin was asleep on the sofa when she got back to the house, and she wondered, briefly, if she could just leave him there and go to bed. But he didn’t look comfortable, so she made some coffee, brought two cups into the living room, and said his name until he woke up.

  ‘Are you OK?’ he said, after he’d yawned widely.

  ‘Aye, why?’

  ‘You don’t look very happy, that’s all.’

  ‘I’m all right.’

  ‘Weren’t you out celebrating?’

  ‘It’s a bit early for that. Just a drink, that’s all. Let off a bit of steam.’

  ‘How’s the head?’

  ‘Fine. The bump’s gone down already. You know me, I’ve got a hard skull and a thick skin.’

  ‘Like a rhino?’

  She smiled. ‘Aye, like a rhino.’

  ‘I don’t think so, Pepper. That’s all talk, is that. Come on, talk to me. What’s wrong?’

  ‘It’s a kind offer, love, but I’m dead tired and a bit pissed. And what good did talking really ever do anyone, anyway?’

  Wednesday, September 9th

  DI’s office, Carlisle HQ, 8.45am

  Pepper was properly hung-over, but suddenly she was happy. ‘So you’re saying we don’t need a confession? We’ve definitely got enough to charge all three of them? Right now, today?’

  ‘That’s right,’ said Mandy Webster, the senior CPS lawyer for the region. ‘I’m sure there’ll be more charges to follow, and our brief will emphasise that in court, but they’ll all get remanded, no question.’

  ‘What about the brothers’ ethnicity? Does that cause us problems? The girls are all white, remember.’

  ‘Not at all, I’m glad to say. I hope that recent events elsewhere have taught all of us some important lessons about that. It’s just not a material factor at all, is it? And it’s not as if your case is weak at all, because Sandy has really come through already. She’s tied one of your complainants directly to the Afridi’s house, with prints and DNA. Yet they say that none of the girls have ever been there, don’t they?’

  ‘Yes. It’s what two of them said last night, anyhow.’

  ‘That’s enough for now, then. And by the time that you and your team have gone to town on the Afridi’s you’ll have more than enough, I’m sure. They’re guilty as bloody sin, Pepper. And you’re in touch with other forces who have undertaken similar investigations, I take it?’

  ‘I had a quick chat with a DI in the midlands who worked on one not long back last night, and that was useful. There’s no evidence of a widespread issue in the local community, thank God, but it looks as if at least one of the girls was taken out of area. And I wouldn’t be surprised if we find there are more. That’s often the pattern, apparently.’

  ‘So you’ve seized their vehicles?’

  ‘Aye. They’re waiting for Sandy and the team to finish at the Afridis’ house, but apparently the cabs aren’t likely to yield much forensically. They’re usually pretty polluted forensically, if I can put it that way.’

  Mandy Webster laughed. ‘I know what you mean. I always avoid trying to touch anything when I’m in one. But honestly, you can relax, Pepper. I’m not saying that a confession wouldn’t be useful, but it’s definitely not essential.’

  ‘That’s good, because the DI I spoke to said not to expect one. He said that his cons just shouted the odds about what a corrupt place Britain is, how all cops are racist and that we don’t understand their culture, and how the victims’ parents don’t give a shit about their kids.’

  ‘None of that’s relevant though, is it? So if any of them give you any of that don’t rise to it, whatever you do, Pepper.’

  ‘You really think I’ll tell them to bugger off back to where they came from, if they don’t like our laws?’

  ‘No, of course not. I just meant to keep it calm, that’s all. You can be a bit, well, excitable, can’t you?’

  Pepper smiled. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about, lass. And they won’t be able to leave the country anyway, will they? Not for many years, like. And one of the few good things about our prison system is that the cons are none too keen on sex offenders, are they? So those lads are welcome to try out their excuses on the folk that they meet inside. It’d be a proper education for them, Mandy, would that.’

  Mo Afridi couldn’t be interviewed until almost four pm, by which time two doctors had confirmed that he was fit to be interviewed. Rex Copeland, who’d been on a couple of Met c
ourses covering interview techniques with minority populations, was asked by Pepper to lead. He didn’t like to say that all he couldn’t remember much of what he’d been taught, but at least an interpreter wouldn’t be needed. All the Afridis spoke excellent English.

  ‘My client has asked for an interpreter to be present’, said the Duty Solicitor as soon as they’d all sat down.

  ‘Your client works as a taxi driver in Carlisle, and has done for nearly ten years’ said Copeland. ‘Are you seriously suggesting that he doesn’t speak English?’

  ‘Of course he does. It’s just that he’d express himself better if he answered your questions in his own language. This is a a very serious matter, after all.’

  ‘Look’ interrupted Pepper, ‘let me be quite clear about something. We’re not going to run out of time here, we’re not going to ask for an extension, and we’re quite happy to charge your client right now with a number of specimen charges. We’ve got multiple credible complainants already, viable forensic evidence, and we all know that we’ll have more of everything very soon. So if your cunning plan is to get an interpreter and then go ‘no comment’ for a couple of days I’d strongly suggest that you save the poor bloody taxpayer a few quid and give it up now. It’ll get you nowhere. On the other hand, if your client wants to tell us that others were responsible for these offences, like his brothers for example, then this really would be a good time to do that. Before they do the same, like.’

  ‘Fuck you, bitch.’

  ‘There doesn’t seem to be too much wrong with your English, Mr. Afridi’, said Copeland, mildly. ‘So look, I’ll ask you a question, and we’ll see how we go, OK?’