Time to Play (North East Police)

by K. A. Richardson

  ‘OK, have those samples been sent as priority?’ asked Ali.

  Cass nodded, then Nigel continued.

  ‘There was evidence that both of the girls have been tortured. They both had contusions, lacerations and broken bones. The second girl is a little harder to provide a time of death for, the water and the fish have done their jobs at degrading any evidence, but I’d estimate she was placed in the water around a month ago. She had fused breaks, so it’s possible he held her for some time after she’d had the bones broken.’ Nigel stopped and took a long drink of his tea.

  Cass carried on in his stead. ‘We’ve bagged the plastic and the rope from the exterior as well as the clothing and what not. Kev’s going to arrange the examinations of those items with Faith and Jackson tonight – he’s been drafted in from the south and they’re due in on backshift. They’ll check for trace, then submit the plastic to the chemical lab for examination.’ Cass sighed, ‘Poor kids. I wonder who they are. Have you checked missing persons?’

  ‘Charlie’s on doing it today. Looks like a slim chance of finding who they are to be honest, but you never know, right? I need to head back over to the reservoir shortly and speak to Andy. Did you hear about Connor?’

  ‘The lad from the dive team? Yeah, Ben’s out at the scene with Cath, one of the CSMs from the south. Awful business. They called in the blood spatter analyst. Never good when it’s one of our own.’

  17th November, 2250 hours – Ali’s flat, Sunderland

  Ali closed the door with a soft click. He was so tired today he could cry. It wasn’t just him either; his whole team had that look of utter desolation mingled with defeat. What with the number of deaths the city had seen recently along with the number of serious assaults, and other crimes, his team had been run off their feet for weeks. Even the prospect of overtime pay for all the extra hours hadn’t been enough to crack a smile today and it was pay day.

  It was a good job he had a work vehicle – he’d done the rounds about ten times over today. His eyes were strained, his calves ached. It felt like he’d done a few hours in the gym, not just driven about the city.

  How he’d remembered to ring immigration about Elvie was beyond him – they’d been curt on the phone, obviously sick of being messed about. He knew if they didn’t sit down tomorrow, he’d be making things even worse for Elvie. He had to ensure the meeting took place this time.

  His stomach grumbled loudly, reminding him he hadn’t eaten since the sandwich Deena had picked up for him at lunchtime. He knew he should eat: it had been days since anything substantial had passed his lips, but in truth he couldn’t be bothered. He wanted a cup of something hot and sweet, and his bed.

  ‘Oh crap,’ he muttered, realising that his mum had text earlier and told him she and Elvie were taking the bedroom. ‘Can’t even sleep in my own bloody bed, I so need a bigger flat.’ Then he felt guilty: his mum being down had been a god-send with the whole Elvie thing. She’d taken the kid under her wing and made sure she didn’t want for anything. Ali knew Alex was grateful their mum was visiting too. With him and Cass tied up with Connor and the murders, Izzy would have ended up with a multitude of babysitters.

  The coffee-maker whirred to life just as he heard a soft knock at the door.

  ‘You must be psychic,’ he said to Marlo, grinning as confusion passed over her face. ‘I just put the Tassimo on. Am having a chai latte, want one?’

  ‘Please,’ said Marlo. Frowning, Ali looked at her. She looked shattered, the kind of tired that seeps into your bones and makes you feel a hundred years old. Dark rings circled her eyes and her skin was pale and drawn.

  Leaving the cup on the side, he crossed over to her in three steps and without speaking, he pulled her into his arms tightly. He didn’t really know if she needed a hug, but it wouldn’t hurt. And when her arms snaked around his waist, he knew they didn’t need words. Suffice to say it had been a crap day.

  They stood for what seemed like ages until Marlo pulled back slightly.

  ‘I believe the offer of a latte was made,’ she said, her voice gruff as she tried to keep the tears from spilling from her eyes.

  ‘Sure was,’ said Ali, putting the cup under the machine and hitting the pour button. ‘I won’t ask how your day went, it was obviously every bit as shit as mine. How’s Connor? Have you been to the hospital?’

  ‘Yeah, I popped in. They let me sit with him for a few minutes. He looks so small, Ali. It’s scary. They were saying they’re going to try and take him off the ventilator tomorrow so he can breathe on his own.’

  ‘That’s good. Maybe we’ll get the full story then. Alex was saying there’s a lot of unanswered questions, as well as a lot of supposition going on. Professional standards are already sniffing about, too, apparently. As it stands, it doesn’t look good for him like.’

  ‘I know. Alex told Sharpie about his dad’s suicide note and the 999 call Connor made. He admitted hitting his uncle with the mallet. Could’ve been self-defence, like, but as you say, ’til he wakes up and we can all talk to him, we don’t really know what happened.’

  Ali took a sip of his latte – the sweetness was just what he needed. ‘You heading out to the reservoir tomorrow?’

  ‘Actually no, for the first time in I can’t remember how long I’m having my rest days. Feels like I’ve not been off in months. Though to be fair, there’s a good chance we might get called in to assist with any searches, but that’ll depend on staffing and what comes in. Andy, the other dive team sergeant, has already said he’ll consider calling in from out-of-area if anything comes in. We’ve got our hands pretty full at present. Think I’m owed about a year in rest days now like,’ Marlo grinned at him ruefully.

  ‘Yeah, me too. Living the dream, huh? Did you always wanna be a cop?’

  They’d migrated naturally through to the living room, and Ali pulled his legs up under him as he faced Marlo, waiting for her to answer.

  ‘Honestly, no. When I was younger I wanted to be a vet. I love animals, always have. But being a vet involves understanding when it’s kinder to end an animal’s life. I didn’t think I’d be able to do that, so I found something else to do. Actually I found a lot of different things to do before I settled on being a cop. I was a DJ for a while; I worked for a glazing company, even worked on a construction site. Eventually I realised that I wanted to do something to help people. Nursing was out of the question ’cos of my issues with blood, so being a cop was the next best thing. How about you?’

  ‘My Dad. He was a cop, Alex is a cop. Even my uncle Angus is a cop. It was kinda expected I guess.’

  ‘Angus? Your uncle’s called Angus and your mum is Agnes? Are they siblings?’

  ‘Yeah,’ grinned Ali. ‘My pops thought it would be hilarious – Mum got the piss taken out of her for years. They’re twins too.’

  Marlo couldn’t help but giggle. The sheer exhaustion helped, and Ali found himself laughing with her. When the laughter ebbed, there was a comfortable silence whilst they both drank. Marlo stood to leave when she’d finished.

  ‘You’re going?’ asked Ali, trying his hardest not to sound disappointed, but failing miserably.

  Marlo smiled as he stood. Surprising him, she leaned down and captured his lips with hers, kissing him deeply. ‘I wish I could stay,’ she said against his lips, ‘But, your mum and Elvie are asleep in the bedroom, and if I stay, I’d be anything but quiet.’ She winked at him and straightened.

  She looked much more alive now, her cheeks flushed pink at her innuendo. Ali knew she was right, but he really didn’t want her to go.

  ‘I’ll see you tomorrow, OK?’ she asked, as she pulled open the front door.

  Not trusting himself to speak, Ali nodded.

  He clicked the latch behind her and tried to reason with himself. She’s right, you’re knackered, she’s knackered. You need sleep…

  ‘Aye and a cold shower’ his mind argued back as he made for the bathroom.

  17th November, 2330 hours – the landing ou
tside Ali’s flat, Sunderland

  Marlo paused outside of his front door and tried to steady her breathing. She’d never acted so brazen, kissing him like that. Walking away had been one of the hardest things she’d ever had to do – she wondered if he was still stood at the other side, and contemplated knocking again and dragging him to her place. He’d been ready to take her there and then, she could feel it in the quiet urgency of his kiss.

  And she’d wanted him to.

  If he’d followed her out of the flat she’d have been lost.

  She found it a little amusing to realise that she was still stood there contemplating going back inside.

  Come on Marlo, get a grip. You’re an adult not a horny bloody teenager.

  The telling off did little to chasten her, though – Home, now!

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  18th November, 0720 hours – Sunderland City Police HQ

  ‘Ali, great, you’re early. We need coffee, well I do anyway. Izzy’s teething again – think I’ve had about two hours’ kip.’ Alex greeted Ali with a pat on the arm, guided him to the kitchen, and poured two cups, handing one over.

  ‘You OK, bro?’ asked Ali, taking the mug.

  ‘Yeah am OK, the super’s office is free, we’ll go in there.’

  ‘What’s up?’ asked Ali, sitting down.

  ‘I think our cases might be linked. Hear me out before you say anything. Maynard senior’s suicide note says ‘I never meant to hurt the girls’. The shed where Connor was found is… well, I’ll call a spade a spade; it’s a fucking torture chamber. There’s a seat with wrist and ankle straps, a cage, and tools mounted on the wall.

  ‘Other than the blood off Connor and his uncle, the place was spotlessly clean. Ben said it stunk of bleach, though all I could smell was the metal from the blood. There was even a video camera set up in the corner though we didn’t find the memory card. Whatever Maynard senior was up to, it wasn’t good.

  ‘Then there’s the uncle, Fred Rockingham, or Rocko as he’s known to the local thugs. Intel have had a few bites come through. They were about to put an UC in place to build a case.’ He referred to an undercover cop, someone sent into the organisation to gather evidence. ‘Rocko has his fingers in a lot of pies, it appears, long record from years ago for being a pimp, and running drugs. This was down in the Midlands, like, but still.’

  ‘Sounds like a lovely guy - not,’ said Ali sarcastically.

  ‘We’re still looking for the memory card, but it’s not a huge leap that the girls he refers to in the letter could be your girls from the reservoir, right? Maynard also states he got the girls off Rocko which ties in to the theory of the prostitution ring.’

  ‘Not a huge leap no, but it still feels like we’re missing something, though.’

  ‘Yeah I know. Listen I’m about to head to the hospital to see Connor. They’re taking him off the ventilator this morning and I wanna be there before professional standards stick their beaks in and rip this out from under me. Do you think he’s dirty?’

  ‘Dunno, bro. In all honesty, he seems like a canny lad, if a little hot-headed,’ said Ali, recalling the comments Connor had made at their first meeting.

  ‘Hmm, OK well I’ll catch you later. Don’t get too comfy in that chair, mind, the super’ll be in any second,’ Alex grinned and left the room.

  The chair was comfortable, though. He was almost tempted to take it with him and use it in the office. But that would provoke a whole war he didn’t want to be in the middle of.

  18th November, 1900 hours – Sunderland City Police HQ

  ‘So far we’ve searched the car park, the section of walkway leading to the tower and the path down to the beach area. Surprisingly, it’s quite clean. We’ve picked up the usual suspects, cans, cigarette butts and what not, but nothing that points immediately towards a suspect. There was nothing on the wall by the tower but we did find a button right underneath the historic sign that was mounted, possibly from a coat or a cardigan. We’re heading back out in the morning.’ Tony Cartwright’s explanation was short and sweet and Ali nodded in agreement.

  ‘OK great, get yourself off home, Tony. We’ll catch up when you get back in tomorrow,’ said Ali.

  ‘My turn,’ said Cass, ‘I need to get back for Izzy. The whole scene’s been photographed – we’ve taken a couple of casts of footwear marks from the mud at the edge of the car park where the path meets. They’ve already been looked at by the footwear technician who hasn’t got anything matching on the database. The fingernail scrapes from each victim have gone for DNA but I reckon the best chance of an ident is from the last girl to be dumped.

  ‘All the usable plastic sheets have been sent for chemical after being dried, and I know Jeff’s coming in early to do it tomorrow. It’ll take him a while like, he has to cut them to fit in the superglue chamber and I know Andrea, the assistant lab tech there, is off on leave at the minute. From the looks of the trace, we’ve got a few hairs that don’t match the vic’s, doesn’t look like there’s any roots but mitochondrial might be usable if we have the killer’s mum’s DNA on file. The clothing the girls had on was pretty generic, Primarni’s best, most of it. Just usual stuff kids of that age would wear. The rope has been retained but will probably be too contaminated to yield any evidence, best we’ll get is manufacturer info and where the local sellers are.’

  ‘OK, Cass, thanks. I haven’t had my thumbnails from the PMs or the scene yet though. Can you chase up whomever you’ve got tasked and get them over to me asap so I can put them in the file?’ He referred to the thumbnail-sized images of the photos taken by the CSIs.

  ‘Yup, Johnny’s doing them as we speak,’ replied Cass with a grin.

  ‘Just pop outside with me for a sec,’ said Ali, needing to speak with Cass privately.

  ‘Have you spoken to Alex today?’

  ‘Yeah, briefly when we left the house and through a couple of texts. Why?’

  ‘Has he mentioned his theory to you?’

  ‘Oh you mean that his case possibly overlaps with yours? Yeah, we talked about it last night. I’ve mentioned to submissions to compare the nail scrapings to Connor’s dad’s DNA. His PM is scheduled for tomorrow, I think, but don’t quote me on that. Kev’s handling it. I’ll mail him and ask him to update you as well as Alex if you like?’

  ‘Yeah, if you don’t mind. Is Mum at yours this evening?’

  ‘Yeah, her and Elvie are having dinner with us. Then they’re coming back to yours, so you’ll have to go to Marlo’s if you want to get your end away,’ teased Cass crudely.

  Ali couldn’t stop the blush burning its way all the way from his neck to his forehead.

  ‘It’s a good thing, Ali. You’re too nice a guy to be single and focussed on your career so much. Marlo brings out the smiles in you. Maybe it’ll turn into something, maybe it won’t – but it damn sure wouldn’t hurt to give it a go.’

  ‘Yes, Mum,’ said Ali. He knew she was right though. He already had an inkling it, whatever it was, was going somewhere as opposed to nowhere. It had hit him last night as he’d held her in his arms.

  ‘Go see my goddaughter,’ he ordered, giving Cass a gentle push towards the stairs. ‘I’ll catch up with you tomorrow. Elvie’s immigration meeting is at 10 a.m. so I’ll let you know how that goes.’

  Surprising him, Cass turned and kissed him on the cheek. ‘You’re a good guy Ali McKay: start believing it a little more.’

  He didn’t have chance to reply – she’d pushed the stairwell door open and disappeared before he could.

  18th November, 2035 hours – Marlo’s flat, Sunderland

  For the first time in ages, Marlo had had a relatively lazy day. She’d offered to take Elvie shopping but the kid had looked so devastated at the thought of not seeing Cass and Alex’s baby that she’d let her go with Agnes to the cottage. She knew they’d probably be back at Ali’s flat by now, but hadn’t yet gone round. Agnes had a way with Elvie, had been getting her to open up and talk. Marlo knew it was doing
the youngster good, teaching her to trust again.

  She should have been nervous at the prospect of the immigration meeting Ali had told her about, but she wasn’t. She just knew in her heart it would all go their way and Elvie would be allowed to stay. She’d been giving a lot of thought about what would happen. At only fifteen years, if Elvie was granted immigration status, it would mean she would be placed in a family home or with a foster parent. Marlo had experience of both, and in her opinion neither would be suitable. She needed to talk to Ali to see what she could do.

  Marlo had been to visit Connor that afternoon. He was still unconscious but he was breathing on his own now which was good. She’d sat with him a while, reading the articles out of the newspaper and chatting about nothing. When his sister, Marie, had arrived, Marlo had made her exit. She’d checked on his uncle’s welfare also – he was in a medically induced coma and hadn’t been woken.

  She didn’t know what to think any more. She’d trusted Connor. He’d become part of the team rapidly even if he was surly at times. A small part of her doubted him, wondered how involved he was with his uncle, but then her heart was telling her he was a good man and that she ought to trust him. She sighed, something else to talk to Ali about, she supposed.