by K Leitch
As far as the Twees went though, Carla and her team had in fact had a bit of a break through, one of the bag snatchers had left his hood down whilst grabbing a bag from a Honda at the main lights on Redbank High Street the day before yesterday and had been snapped by the CCTV camera there, he had been identified as Ruben Davies. Frank had pulled Davies in a few months before for attacking a boy on a train, but unfortunately the victim had been too scared to formally accuse Davies and so charges were never brought against him, maybe this time they would be able to pin something on him.
Carla and her sergeant Frank were going over to the Buttercup estate this morning to bring him in, or at least that was the plan, Frank had yet to turn up.
Carla’s desk phone sprang into life startling out of her reverie, ‘DI Right,’ she answered.
‘Sorry to trouble you Ma’am,’ began WPC Sheila White, ‘but there’s an elderly lady down here insisting on speaking to you, she says she’s being terrorised by some kids in her neighbourhood.…’
Carla looked at her watch, Frank still wasn’t here, she might as well speak to this woman while she waited for him to turn up. ‘Okay Shelia I’ll come down and talk to her…what’s her name?’
‘Flora Metcalf Ma’am.’
‘Flora Metcalf?’ mused Carla, ‘why does that name ring a bell with me?’
‘Oh she’s complained about these kids umpteen times Ma’am,’ Sheila replied, ‘but as yet we’ve got no evidence of anyone harassing her.’
Carla’s brow cleared, ‘Oh I remember Mandy telling me about it. Wasn’t she the one that made a 999 call, apparently terrified, thought someone was in her house… but by the time uniform got there, there was no intruder and no sign of any break-in?’
‘Yes that’s her…poor old dear she was in a right state, totally convinced that some lunatic had broken in and was about to rape her or something…seemed she’d left the back door unlocked, it must have blown open or something.’
‘So what’s she on about now…is this just her vivid imagination again or does she really have a problem?’
‘Actually I think she really is being picked on by some little scumbags this time Ma’am,’ Sheila said with a sigh. ‘But as usual there is absolutely no evidence and she can’t identify who is doing it.’
‘Okay Sheila I’ll talk to her,’ Carla said finishing the call before making her way down to the interview rooms on the ground floor.
Flora Metcalf was a tiny, bent little old lady, dressed in a tweed coat that had definitely seen better days and a small red felt hat that was giving off a distinct smell of moth balls. She needed a frame to help her walk and thick pebble glasses to help her see. Carla could see however that she wasn’t short on determination and the pale blue eyes that held hers as she greeted her a few moments later were firm and focused.
‘How can I be of help Ms Metcalf?’ Carla began, showing the lady a seat.
‘You can make them stop…that’s what you can do,’ Flora began wagging an arthritic finger at Carla.
Carla smiled. ‘I’ll need you to tell me what’s going on before I can “make them stop” whoever they are,’ she began.
‘I’ve already told that other policewoman,’ Flora said blue eyes flashing angrily, ‘I’ve been back and forth to this station that many times, why won’t any of you just do something to make them stop. I know my rights, I’ve paid my taxes I am entitled to feel safe in my own home.’
‘You are indeed Ms Metcalf,’ Carla said soothingly, ‘but if you could just remind me of the facts of the case.’
Flora tutted irritably, ‘It’s those kids…oh I don’t know which ones they are… but they keep coming to my house, late at night. One time they even came inside the house…in the middle of the night! Terrifying it was, not that you lot believed me, just because they’d made a run for it before you got there. You all obviously thought I was just a mad old woman, hearing things or making things up…but I know they were there…I could hear them whispering on the landing outside my bedroom door…I’ve told you all of this! They tap on the windows, they’ve broken down my front gate and they pushed dogs dirt through my letter box…it’s disgusting.’ Flora was shaking her head agitatedly, her fingers constantly playing with the hanky in her hand. ‘And it’s not getting any better…they said, the police women that came round to see me, they said that usually the kids get bored, you know they have their fun for a while and then move on to other things…well they’re not getting bored. It’s been nearly two months now that this has been going on…I’ve written everything down….’ she produced a little note book from her handbag and held it out for Carla.
Carla took the notebook from Flora and looked at some of the entries with a feeling of frustration; it was disgusting that someone as vulnerable and frail as Flora Metcalf should have to suffer this sort of bullying. Unfortunately without any witnesses or evidence of any sort there wasn’t an awful lot that Carla could do, other than get uniform to keep an eye on the house, which she would certainly see to.
‘And you don’t have any idea who these kids are Ms Metcalf?’ Carla asked eventually.
Flora shook her head, ‘Oh I could make a couple of guesses,’ she said with a sigh, ‘but no, I’ve never seen who it is.’
‘Have you upset anybody that you can think off, do you have any idea why you’re being targeted in this way?’
Flora pursed her lips impatiently, ‘Believe me Inspector, I have wracked my brains trying to think why they are picking on me, but I can’t think of anything, any reason,’ she said shaking her head.
‘You see Ms Metcalf, without any suspects or any evidence my hands are tied, there’s only so much I can do…’ she held up her hand as Flora began to speak, ‘What I will do however is ask a constable to keep an eye on your road and your house in particular, maybe a police presence will deter them. Also if you, or anyone you know owns a video camera…you could try filming them, get some idea of whose doing these things. Then I could bring someone in and question them, but until we know who we’re dealing with…’ she left the sentence hanging.
Flora started gathering her things together angrily, ‘Well I don’t know why I bothered coming in again,’ she muttered shaking her head, ‘obviously none of you know how to do your jobs, call yourself police officers, you’re just a bunch of clerks sitting at your desks not daring to step outside your boundaries…you’ll only take me seriously when I’m dead, that’s about the size of it isn’t it?’ She turned and wagged a bent arthritic finger in Carla’s direction. ‘In my day little thugs like this would have been dealt with by the local bobby, a good thrashing that’s what they need. Kids learn by the rod, young woman. When I first started as a teacher, children would be kept in line by the fear of corporal punishment and it worked! There would be none of the lawlessness and disrespect that we see from them now days if the powers that be hadn’t become such a namby pamby lot….’
‘Please believe me Ms Metcalf,’ Carla interrupted wearily, ‘I am taking this very seriously and I will make sure that someone patrols your street from now on, but you must see that there is nothing more I…’
‘Oh spare me your rhetoric detective…I know where I stand, police protection pah! You lot couldn’t protect a rice pudding…I’m wasting my time…good day.’
And with that she shuffled out as fast as anyone can when walking behind a frame and slammed the door behind her. Carla sat back in her chair and sighed, fucking hell what a morning, and it wasn’t even ten yet. Feeling even more depressed, she made her way back upstairs. Her sergeant, Frank Hill, had finally arrived and was sitting on her desk eating a doughnut and reading the Twee file.
‘Oy, get your big bum off my desk,’ Carla said swiping him round the head as she went passed, ‘and what time do you call this?’ she added looking pointedly at her watch.
‘I know…sorry,’ said Frank with and unrepentant smile, ‘big night with Linda last night…big, big night,’ he added waggling his eyebrows.
‘Oh, I d
on’t want to know about your sex life Frank,’ Carla said irritably, shaking her head.
‘Oooer,’ Frank retorted mockingly, ‘obviously I’ve touched on a sore point…things drying up in that department are they Carla…is Carla not getting her full quota…’
‘Look just shut it Frank,’ Carla snapped back, ‘I’m not in the mood ok.’
‘Sooorrryyy,’ Frank rolled his eyes, he went out again and got himself a coffee. When he came back a moment later Carla was sitting at her desk with her head in her hands.
‘Look tell me to mind my own business,’ he began tentatively, ‘but it’s obvious something’s bothering you Carla. Can I help…do you want to talk about it?’
Carla ran her fingers through her hair and sat back in her chair before shaking her head, ‘Oh don’t take any notice of me…I’m just having a bad morning that’s all,’ she said.
Frank looked like he would have liked to say more but before he could Carla stood up and grabbed her jacket from the back of her chair. ‘Right, well now that you have finally arrived let’s go and see what that little toe rag Ruben Davies has got to say for himself shall we?’ she said as she walked past him out of the office. Frank rolled his eyes again and after taking a last gulp of his coffee, followed on behind, she’d tell him what was bothering her when she was good and ready.
Ruben Davies lived on the tenth floor of a block of maisonettes in the centre of the Buttercup estate, so called because of the yellow coloured bricks that had been used in its construction. Spreading out over many acres like a nasty great tumour clinging to the edge of the pretty market town of Redbank, the Buttercup was a labyrinth of badly lit walkways, running between towering high rises. It was the perfect breeding ground for every sort of criminal activity and notoriously difficult to police, children and the elderly lived cheek by jowl with vicious drug dealers and gun toting gangs.
Frank grumbled as he parked his car near the bins at the base of the tower block where Ruben Davies lived with his mother. ‘I hate leaving my car in these places,’ he muttered grumpily, ‘wouldn’t be at all surprised to find its wheels missing and up on bricks when we get back.’
‘Ha, you’ll be lucky,’ snorted Carla, ‘don’t think they’d bother with the bricks round here matey. I did try and persuade you to take a pool car remember.’
‘You know they’ve only got that stupid little Fiesta available at the moment,’ Frank put in, ‘there’s no way I’m driving that around…I do have a certain reputation to maintain you know.’
‘Hmmm,’ Carla smirked, ‘well don’t worry love, no one will think you’re anything but a hard man when you’re driving round with bright pink spray paint all down the front of your BMW.’
Frank stuck two fingers up at her and stalked off ahead. The lifts were out of order so with more muttering and grumbling they began to climb the filthy stairs up to the tenth floor.
The Davies’s home was even scruffier that its neighbours, if that were possible. An old blanket had been nailed up at the kitchen window in place of a curtain and the front door had a hole in the bottom where someone had obviously kicked it in at some point.
Carla rang the bell and waited, loud music could be heard coming from somewhere inside so they knew someone was at home. After waiting a few minutes Carla rang the bell again and then banged loudly on the kitchen window. The music suddenly stopped and they could hear footsteps pounding down the stairs towards the door which was eventually swung open.
A plump, spotty and very familiar young girl stared out at them, ‘Yeh…whatcha want?’ she said chewing gum and leaning up against the door frame.
Carla and Frank held up their badges, ‘Is Ruben about Lola? We’d like a few words with him,’ Carla said.
Lola Twee stared back at Carla insolently, ‘Ruben,’ she shouted without taking her eyes off Carla. ‘Whatcha wan ‘im for…’e ain’t done nuffin, ‘es been ‘ere wiv me all day,’ she said chewing her gum.
Carla didn’t answer, instead she asked, ‘Why aren’t you in school Lola?’
Lola scowled, ‘Got a study day ain’t I, what’s it to you?’ she added belligerently, pulling away from the door frame as more footsteps could be heard heading their way and Ruben Davies appeared beside her.
‘Oh fuck it man,’ he said shaking his head when he saw who it was, ‘what the fuck do you want wiv me?’
Ruben Davies was a tall scrawny fifteen year old, with spiked up hair, pimples and a permanent whine in his voice. He was wearing a grubby vest and an old, very tatty pair of boxer shorts that left very little to the imagination.
‘Get dressed Ruben,’ Frank said, ‘we need to ask you some questions down at the station. Is your mum here?’
‘Oh man…this is fucking ‘arrasment,’ Ruben began in a whiney nasal voice, ‘you ‘ad me down there last week and you couldn’t do me for nuffin, what am I ‘spose to ‘ave done now?’
‘We’ll tell you when we get there, now go and get dressed unless you want us to take you in with your meat and two veg on display. Is your mum around, she’ll need to come with us?’
‘She ain’t ‘ere…she works at the betting shop in the mornings don’t she.’
‘Ok…well we’ll call in on the way to the station…is it the one by the chippy? Is that where she works?’ Carla asked.
‘Yeh…but she’ll be as mad as hell if we disturb her at work…can’t I just come, she don’t need to know does she?’
Carla shook her head, ‘Sorry…we need an adult with you, you’re under age so…’
‘Oh man…’ Ruben began.
‘This is a bleeding joke this is,’ Lola obviously thought she’d been quiet for too long, ‘why you always picking on ‘im, I told you ‘es been ‘ere wiv me…’
‘Look, just get yourself upstairs and put some clothes on will you Ruben, I haven’t got time to be arguing with you all day,’ Frank said irritably, completely ignoring Lola as she continued to rant.
‘That’s right pick on us lot, anyfing goes missing, anyone’s car gets nicked…ain’t you got nuffin better to do?’
‘Shut it Lola, or I’ll be taking you in as well,’ Frank snarled, ‘come on Ruben…move yourself.’
After flashing another baleful look at Frank, Ruben sulkily went back upstairs and returned a couple of minutes later wearing a track suit that was as filthy as his underwear, and a beanie hat.
‘Don’t worry hun,’ Lola said to him as they were leaving, ‘I’ll tell me dad, ‘e’ll come down there and sort it out. They ain’t got nuffin on you Ruby so don’t say anyfing, not till me dad gets there, you ‘ear me.’
Carla and Frank shared a look, the last thing they needed was bloody Herbert Twee storming the police station, but it was interesting that his name had cropped up again in connection to the thefts.
Ruben nodded at Lola and walked with as much bravado as he could muster down to Frank’s waiting car, which thankfully was still in one piece.
Once back at the station Carla and Frank left Ruben in an interview room while they waited for his mum to finish her shift. Hannah Davies had looked at Carla with tired, resigned eyes when she’d been told that they needed to speak to her son yet again. She had shaken her head and sighed deeply before explaining that she couldn’t afford to leave work until her shift was over.
‘Harry won’t pay me if I take any more time off,’ she said tonelessly, ‘and I can’t afford to lose this job, took me months to find it.’
Carla nodded at her, ‘That’s fine Hannah; we’ll expect you later this afternoon.’ Hannah just pursed her lips and started serving the man that had been standing behind Carla.
‘Oh by the way,’ Carla said to her as they were leaving, ‘I didn’t realise that Ruben was so friendly with Lola Twee, is she his latest…spend much time together do they?’
Hannah grimaced and shook her head, ‘Nah…I don’t think there’s anything in it, they just hang out, you know, a whole lot of them.’
‘Oh right,’ Carla said, ‘who else do they hang
around with then?’
‘Oh you know, just other kids from the neighbourhood, I don’t know their names…I don’t ask like…’
‘Lewis Twee, is he one of the gang too?’ Carla asked
‘Yeh, I’ve seen him about wiv them…why what they done?’
Carla just shook her head and smiled, ‘Well that’s what we’re trying to find out Hannah, I’ll see you later at the station.’
CHAPTER 6
Flora woke with a start at the sound of a lawnmower just outside her window. Her reading glasses had fallen down onto her cheek and the book she had been reading was on the floor at her feet. Chuckling at her own disarray, she pulled herself up out of her chair with the help of her frame which was never far from her side and, straightening her back with difficulty, she hobbled through to the kitchen at the back of her bungalow.
Through the kitchen window she could see Billy Hobbs, walking up and down the lawn pushing the lawnmower in front of him, his brows furrowed as he concentrated on keeping the lines straight. Flora’s pretty little chalet bungalow was one of six that had stood firm against the bribes of a construction company who had been trying to buy up all the houses on Fernley Crescent, in order to build a huge block of retirement flats on the land. Flora had been instrumental in thwarting some of their plans by persuading a few of her neighbours to hold firm against their ever increasing offers. It had been an exciting time for her, organising meetings, canvasing the neighbourhood. She had felt alive again, pitting her wits against the corporate predators, as she saw them, who were trying to destroy her quiet little street. She hadn’t stopped them of course, they’d simply changed their plans and built the flats at the end of the road, but she had the satisfaction of knowing that they’d had to seriously reduce their plans for an extensive garden with adequate parking.
