The Hard Way

by Duncan Brockwell

  In his desk drawer, he had a cigar reserved for this occasion. He opened the drawer, took it out and put it in his mouth, searching his pockets for a lighter.

  The first inhale was always the harshest. For the rest he simply held the smoke in and blew it out. Now that he had his patent confirmation, he could set up a press conference whenever he liked. Having a working model was the icing on the cake.

  On the monitor, he noted it was eight o’clock, and he had to pick up Henry and go with him to identify Colin’s body. Then the detectives were visiting for an “interview”. Such a silly term for it, he thought, switching off his monitor.

  After finishing his cigar, he switched everything off and headed back downstairs. As he reached the front door, he spotted Vanu on his way in. “Hey! What’s up?” His second-in-command’s mind was elsewhere. He stared down the road.

  “That van’s been there for days.” Vanu gestured a white transit sat by the kerb, no driver or passenger present.

  “So what? It’s a parked van.” Richard shrugged. “I’m off to Henry’s.”

  “No, wait! Listen to me. It’s been hanging around a lot lately. Everywhere I go I see it.”

  He’d never seen Vanu paranoid, even though the poor guy took medication to help reduce his neuroses. “You’re just imagining it. Look, there’s no one inside.” He even pointed at the van. “Relax! Go on, the others will be here soon.”

  18

  Hayes pulled up outside the wrought-iron gates of Henry Curtis and Colin Fisher’s home. She wound the window down and extended her arm, pushing the intercom button. “Mr Curtis, it’s Detective Inspector Amanda Hayes and Detective Sergeant Rachel Miller.” The buzzer sounded, and the gates whirred open.

  Driving through, Hayes kept an eye on the closing gates in her mirror. She pulled up outside the huge country house, getting out and locking the car with a touch of the key fob. Crunching along the gravelly drive towards the front door, she climbed the three stone steps. She whistled.

  “Curtis’ parents are wealthy. I–” Miller didn’t get to finish her comment.

  The door opened and a woman answered. She introduced herself as Charlotte Edwards, was Fisher. Miller glanced over at Hayes.

  When Charlotte opened the door for them, Hayes stepped inside the hallway first, followed closely by Miller. Charlotte showed them through to the huge lounge, where a man in his late forties, maybe early fifties, stood waiting for them.

  “Detectives, please join us. I’m Richard Fisher, and you’ve already met my sister, Charlotte. Please, have a seat.”

  “Can I get you anything to drink? Tea or coffee? Squash?” Charlotte hovered.

  Hayes sat next to her partner and shook her head. “No, thank you, we’re fine. Will Mr Curtis be joining us?” She could tell by their demeanours he wouldn’t be.

  “I’m afraid we’ve just returned from identifying my brother’s body. As you can imagine, it was traumatic. Henry’s taken himself off to bed for a while.”

  “We’ll try to answer any questions you have, detective.” Charlotte smiled down at her with a nervousness Hayes had come to expect during interviews.

  Hayes smiled. “I’m sure you’ll try, Mrs Edwards, but we’ll still need to question Mr Curtis. He and your brother were married and lived together, am I right?”

  Charlotte nodded.

  “So, he’ll have a unique perspective on your brother’s day-to-day activities. I’m sure you understand that while you know your brother, his husband will know him far better. Could you call him down, please.”

  Charlotte looked at her brother for approval. “I’ll bring him to the station tomorrow. How about that? I really don’t want to disturb him while he’s sleeping.”

  “Or I will.” Mr Fisher shot her a pleading look.

  When she studied Miller, her partner shrugged. “Very well. If you promise to bring him by tomorrow, I guess that’s fine. We probably wouldn’t get much out of him today anyway. So, firstly, I’d like to start by offering our deepest sympathies on your loss. Losing your brother in such a way is traumatic. And thank you for taking the time to speak with us.”

  Brother and sister sat side by side, Charlotte nervously playing with her fingers.

  Mr Fisher still straight, spoke first. “Before we begin, though, detective, tell me, do you have any idea at all who did this? Do you have any of those, I don’t know what you’d call them–”

  “Leads?” Charlotte finished her brother’s sentence.

  Mr Fisher nodded.

  “We have a couple of theories, yes.” Hayes gave Miller the go-ahead.

  “We believe the suspect we’re looking for might have a military background, Mr Fisher. Someone who has been, or still is, in the armed forces. I don’t suppose your brother knew many ex-soldiers, did he? We’ve checked his sheet, so we know he wasn’t in the army himself, but we were wondering if he socialised with anyone fitting that description. Would you know, Mrs Edwards?”

  “Or if you’ve heard him talk about having had an altercation with anyone fitting that description? It could be through work, for example?” Hayes waited for a reply.

  Both interviewees shook their heads. “No, nothing like that. I mean, Lottie would know more about Colin’s movements than me–”

  “Oh? Why is that?” Hayes checked his response facially, looking for tells.

  “It’s no secret that I disowned him for years, detective. His drug use, stealing, the violence. He beat up our dad and stole his wallet. As you can imagine, it caused a terrible rift in our family. My poor sister had to mediate between us; she never gave up on him.”

  “Yeah, we’ve read his sheet.” Hayes watched Richard closely.

  “He could’ve done anything he wanted, my little brother. He could’ve gone on and done important things, you know? He was intelligent, and he decided to throw it all away to spite me. And now look where he is.”

  Hayes exchanged glances with Miller. “This must be very painful for you, dredging all this up, but we have to ask some sensitive questions, Mr Fisher. Some will be hard to hear.”

  Mrs Edwards’ face crumpled. “You want to know where we were on Monday night, don’t you? You’re trying to eliminate us from your enquiry by asking us for an alibi.”

  “We ask it of everyone we interview.” It felt mean asking them such questions, but the animosity with which Fisher spoke about his younger brother called for it. “So, how about it, Mr Fisher? Can you tell us where you were late Monday night, early Tuesday morning?” Hayes wasn’t sure of his willingness.

  “What’re you waiting for, Richard? Tell them!”

  Richard Fisher stared at Hayes for a moment. “I was at my workshop until around one in the morning. And before you ask if anyone else was there, Vanu, my second-in-command, was there until around nine. After that, I was there alone.”

  Miller wrote it down in her notepad. “With cases like this, we ask if you can verify your whereabouts another way. So, does your workshop have cameras in or around it that will corroborate your alibi?”

  “There are cameras on the way into the business park, sure. And my computer will show what time I switched it off at least, won’t it?”

  Miller asked for the address of his workshop. “I’ll get onto that.”

  While her partner was busy, Hayes asked Mrs Edwards where she had been. Having exhausted the alibis, she decided to dig further. “It’s such a shame we can’t ask Mr Curtis some questions. I don’t suppose your brother spoke of any conflict at work? Did he have any fights with colleagues, anything like that?”

  “Colin was loved by all his co-stars, everyone. The gay community loved him for everything he did to include them on the station. If you’re asking did he have enemies? Maybe, he’d been a violent drug addict years ago, so sure, he must have. There must be people out there he beat up for their wallets, or what have you, but I don’t know who they are.”

  “Okay, Mrs Edwards.” Hayes tried to calm her down. “Let’s look at this from a different
angle. There’s a rumour circulating that Colin had debts outstanding with Melodi Demirci. Do you know if there’s any truth to them?” She asked both brother and sister.

  Fisher sat back in his seat. “My brother was an addict, detective. It could be true, I don’t know. He had an addiction to pretty much everything at one time or another.”

  “So, it could be a possibility?”

  “With my brother, anything’s possible. All I know is that we made amends just before he married Henry, and since then, Colin hasn’t put a foot wrong. Henry’s the best thing that ever happened to him.”

  Miller took over, aiming her questions at the sister. “But you were still on talking terms with your brother, right, Mrs Edwards? Is there anyone from his past who sticks out? Previous boyfriends? Anyone at all you can think of?”

  “No! Nothing like that. He was on good terms with everyone he worked with. He never mentioned any altercations to me.”

  Hayes thought she seemed genuine enough. Becoming more frustrated by the second, Hayes grew restless. They were getting nowhere with Fisher’s siblings. She had a few more questions to fling at them, but she wasn’t hopeful. It still looked more likely that Brandy Reid was the main target.

  19

  Miller smiled at her text message from Walker, who’d asked her how her shift was going. The five hearts made her chuckle inside like a seventeen-year-old. She tried not to show it to Hayes, who sat next to her driving the Peugeot.

  “Something funny?” Hayes glanced over at her.

  “Hmm?” Miller looked up from her phone. “Oh, no, nothing important. A text from my mum.” She started typing her reply.

  “Give me a break. You’re sat there with a great big smile. It’s not your mum texting. Let me guess: you bumped into Luke Walker last night, am I right?”

  The mere mention of his name made her look at her partner. “What? No!” Her tone belied her words. “What would make you say that? This is my mum.”

  “Where’d you meet him?” Hayes wouldn’t drop it. “Come on, we’re partners, remember? That means sharing information. Come on, where’d you meet him?”

  When she wouldn’t play along, Hayes decided to play by herself.

  “Let me see! Walker works out, a lot, judging by those bulging biceps. You like working out, too. I’m going to hazard a guess and say you bumped into him at the gym last night. How’s that? Am I right?”

  She hated Hayes’ smug grin. “How could you even know that?”

  Hayes chuckled to herself. “Trade secret. A friend saw you two talking in there. So, how’d your first date go? Did you kiss him?”

  Hayes slowed the car to a stop at some traffic lights.

  “What? I’m not answering that.”

  She finished the text with a flurry of kisses. She liked Walker, a lot. The night they shared together was nothing short of heaven. If his texts were anything to go by, they would have round two tonight. The thought excited her. All she had to do was get through the afternoon. “And you’re wrong about him, by the way.”

  Miller put her mobile away, determined to focus on the job at hand. “So, what did you make of Fisher?”

  Hayes stared straight ahead. “I think meeting Fisher’s brother and sister was a waste of time. We should’ve made them wake Curtis. He’s the key. He’ll know what’s going on in his husband’s life more than they do.”

  As they entered a run-down part of town, Hayes brought the car to a stop outside a row of terraced houses. The estate was covered in graffiti and everywhere Miller looked, kids stood on street corners, rough-looking kids, all between the ages of around ten and eighteen. They would rob their car given half the chance, she thought, unbuckling her belt.

  A group of kids of varying ethnicities crowded their car as Miller opened her door. She took out her warrant card and showed it to the teenagers. “Metropolitan Police, lads. Back off!” And as she stood, taller than them, they backed up. “Thank you! Now, can one of you tell me which house Brandy Reid’s mum lives at?”

  “She lives over there.” A kid of no more than ten said, pointing.

  “Thanks.” Hayes joined her.

  “Hey, I know you. You’re that pig who arrested Martin’s dad.”

  Miller grabbed the twelve-year-old boy’s shirt. “Don’t ever use that term in front of us again. We’re police officers, or detectives.” Her partner made her relinquish him. “Be respectful, boys.”

  With confidence, Miller strode through the pack of teenagers, towards the Reid residence. “You’ve got to project strength to these little shits, or they’ll walk all over you.”

  “You know as well as I do you can’t touch them. They could put a complaint in against you now.” Hayes sounded more concerned than angry.

  They reached Brandy Reid’s mum’s front door, with its red paint peeling off. “Them? Nah, they hate the police. They’d sooner spit on us than call us, and that’s why we need to nip that whole ‘pig’ attitude in the bud before they become adults.”

  Hayes turned and watched their car. “Yeah? Don’t expect our car to be there by the time we leave. They’ll be off looking for a crowbar as we speak.”

  She knocked on the door and moments later a woman answered, opening it a crack. “Miss Reid? We spoke earlier on the phone. I’m Detective Sergeant Rachel Miller. This is my partner, Detective Inspector Amanda Hayes. May we come in?”

  “Yeah, sure.” The woman stood aside, allowing them access.

  The first thing to hit Miller was the girl’s lack of emotion. Ellie Reid took them through the thin hallway, into the lounge. She offered them the settee, while she plonked herself on the armchair. All the furniture had seen better days. There was a potent smell lingering under Miller’s nose, and when she saw the cats, she knew what it was. “Oh I just love cats.” She tried not to pull a face. “How many do you have?”

  “Eight now, or is it nine? I forget. They’re all around here somewhere.”

  Frumpy and lazy were the two words that jumped out at Miller when she studied Ellie. Dressed in an Adidas tracksuit that she’d obviously bought several years ago. With straggly dark hair and pounds of excess fat, she thought Brandy’s daughter must have been a disappointment to the radio co-presenter. “You said your nana would be here.”

  “She couldn’t make it. She’s got bingo.”

  Miller wondered how could Brandy Reid live like this? It was beyond disgusting. The stench would seep into her skin. She wrinkled her nose, the smell cloying.

  “I just want to say how sorry I am for your loss.” Hayes wrinkled her nose.

  “Don’t be. Mum was a total bitch.”

  As was expected. “Oh? Can I ask why?”

  “All she cared about was that arsehole boyfriend of hers, and getting high. She didn’t care about me. Nana raised me here. I only ever saw mum when she came begging Nana for money.”

  “Your mum had a drug habit? That surprises me. Colin Fisher was dead set against drugs. How did she come to get her spot presenting with him?”

  “I don’t know. She hid it well? She would take whatever she could get her hands on, but her drug of choice was coke. I’m surprised her septum didn’t fall off like that EastEnders actress.”

  Hayes wasn’t buying Ellie’s story. It sounded like the daughter hated her mum so much, she was making it up. “I’m sorry to hear this. Can I ask where your mum lives, Ellie? We have this address for her.”

  “No, she’s shacked up with Dylan somewhere.” Ellie reached in front of her and picked up her packet of cigarettes. She offered them both one.

  Miller waved her refusal. “Could you find her address?”

  The girl lit her cigarette, then asked how?

  “Does your nana have an address book?”

  Ellie laughed. “You don’t know my nana at all, do you? She’s an alcoholic. I doubt she can even write, she’s so pissed all the time. I only ever see her sober for five minutes in the morning when she wakes up on that couch, before she pukes in the toilet and washes it d
own with half a bottle of vodka. Then she’s ready to get on her scooter and head to Wetherspoons. Thinking of it, you might have more luck speaking to Nana’s friends there. They know Brandy better than I do.”

  “Do you know your mum’s boyfriend’s surname, Ellie?” Hayes regarded Miller, indicating that they should leave soon.

  “I don’t know! I’ve only seen him parked outside in his clapped out Rover. Mum never introduced us.”

  “I see. You really don’t know her well at all, do you?” She looked over at Hayes, suggesting they leave.

  Standing up, Miller regarded the slovenly girl. “We might take you up on your suggestion and visit your nana’s friends in Wetherspoons. We’ll see ourselves out, Ellie. And for what it’s worth, I’m sorry you didn’t know her better.”

  Ellie Reid shrugged. She didn’t care. “It is what it is.”

  Miller let Hayes leave first.

  “Did she suffer?”

  “It was over quick.” Miller lied, not wanting to burden the poor girl, who’d grown up in the worst possible conditions, apparently without any kind of maternal love. “Take care of yourself.”

  Miller was keen to get out into the fresh air.

  Hayes waited for her outside. “Looks like we’ve got company.”

  Miller closed the door and took in a long lungful of air. She took the time to gauge their situation. Sat on the bonnet of their Peugeot were two guys, one black, one white. They attracted the attention and adulation of the kids around their car. “Which one do you want to take?” she whispered. “I’ll take the white guy, if you’re okay taking the black fella.”

  “Let’s just act calm, get in our car and go, right?”

  “Sure, but if there’s trouble, which one do you want?”

  “I’m comfortable taking on the black guy, yeah.”

  “You see? That wasn’t so difficult.” Miller walked towards their car, never taking her eyes off the tall, white guy sat on their bonnet. The teenagers made room for them as they approached, which she took as a sign of respect. “Thank you, boys.”