Feeling the soft sand beneath her shoes, she felt calmness wash over her. Finding a raised dune, she sat down and looked out towards the sea. Elvie took the offered ice cream with whispered thanks, and sat down beside Marlo. It was bitterly cold, the sea breeze mixing with the already low temperature for the time of year and Marlo was glad of the heavy coats they both wore. There were still people on the beach though, dog walkers, joggers, and even a bunch of teenagers larking about. She hoped the calming sound of the waves crashing on the sand was helping Elvie to relax.
When Elvie finished her ice cream, Marlo said, 'Talk to me. I can't help you if you don't tell me what's wrong.'
Elvie hung her head. It was almost as if she was too scared to speak.
'Whatever it is, sweetheart, I'm not going anywhere. No matter what happens you will always be able to talk to me.'
'Why Marlo nice to Elvie? Elvie not nice person.' She sounded devastated, and tears filled her eyes.
Carefully, Marlo asked, 'Why do you think you're not a nice person? From what I know of you, you're a lovely girl with a big heart. I think you're nice.'
'Elvie leave Nita, not help her. I leave her in house. I bad person. Why Marlo like Elvie when I bad person? You no want me to stay. Send me back.'
'Is that what you think? That I'd send you back because of what happened? Now you listen to me, young lady, I'll not have this self-pity. What happened to you and Nita was awful, but you couldn't help her, sweetheart, not then. You had to make sure you stayed alive. You told me and Ali about Nita as soon as you could. I don't want you to go back, not if you don't want to go. I've even been looking at bigger houses so you could stay with me. I don't want you in a children's home, love. If you have family at home and you want to go back, then I'll help you do that, but if you stay, I'd like you to stay with me.'
'Marlo really want Elvie to stay? I not want go back, only my aunt there and she not nice, always shout at Noni. She hate Elvie.'
'Yes I want you to stay. I want you to go to school and learn, and later do a job you really want to do. I want you to be happy.' Now Marlo felt her eyes fill with tears, she wanted Elvie to stay more than anything. But it had to be a decision made by Elvie.
Elvie didn't speak for a moment, but then moved suddenly and threw her arms around Marlo's neck and squeezed tightly.
'Thank you,' she whispered in Marlo's ear.
'From now on, missus, you tell me when something's bothering you, OK?' Marlo sounded gruff, she felt really emotional. Elvie just nodded, and kept hold of Marlo. They must have looked strange, sitting hugging on a freezing cold beach in the middle of winter, but Marlo didn't care. It felt right.
19th November, 1625 hours - Sunderland City Police HQ
Ali rubbed a hand over his face - so much for days off. He'd ended up being involved in searching the house on Wear Street with Alex and the NCA, National Crime Agency. His need to see the crime scene for himself was not that strange, though. The girls who'd been found were his cases, not Alex's. He had a responsibility to speak for them when they couldn't speak for themselves.
He'd never seen anything so dingy and horrible as the house, and he'd seen some shitholes. The whole place was damp, mould had covered the walls and ceiling corners, and any wallpaper that had been left behind was from the seventies, aged manky patterns peeling and hanging in the midst of cobwebs. The whole building had felt like it should have been condemned.
The attic room had been the most awful, he didn't think he'd forget it in a hurry. Sparsely furnished and decked out with a torture chair similar to the one Alex had described in the shed of Connor's dad. And the whole attic was fully soundproofed so the screams couldn't be heard outside. A large stash of liquid heroin and syringes had been found in a small fridge situated beside a small computer. The computer had gone to Jacob Tulley in the digital forensics lab for examination - Ali hoped Jacob would be able to get information off it that would aid the investigation.
They'd found six girls inside, all high as kites and out of it completely. The two men located engaging in sexual activity with the barely conscious girls had been arrested, and the girls removed to a specialist centre for people trafficked into the country. He didn't know what would happen to them yet, but they were safe.
The man Elvie had mentioned, Gaz, was in the wind. He hadn't been at the house with the girls. Unease settled in Ali’s stomach: Gaz appeared to be Rocko’s second-in-command. He needed to be found. As did the house containing the female, Yolanda, that Elvie had spoken of. The voter’s roll checks had brought forth only two living in the force area, and intelligence on both of them had been sparse. Charlie was running down the addresses now.
Alex had returned to the hospital to see if Connor was ready for interview and to check on Rocko, leaving Ali to finish up the paperwork and handover. It had been a long day, but he had to admit it felt good too. Rescuing the girls had definitely been the positive outcome he had hoped for – it was too late for the girls in the reservoir but at least some had been saved.
Frowning, he knew there would be locations like that all over the UK in a similar state, filled with girls like those. All he could hope, though, was that the National Crime Agency would be able to piece together additional contacts and locations and use it all to locate and assist more of them. Funnily enough, he'd heard on the news earlier that a container filled with about forty people had been discovered. He'd once thought that human trafficking wouldn't affect him in his role but now it seemed suddenly to be coming to the forefront.
Before he took the files down to handover to the DI coming on duty, he hit send on the email to both his and Alex's teams calling a joint strategy meeting the next day. He had no intention of being in that meeting. If he didn't take a day off he'd go insane. Besides, he had to visit immigration with Elvie. There was no getting out of it this time.
20th November, 1505 hours - High Dependency Unit, Sunderland Royal Hospital
Connor had sensed Alex sitting by the bed ages ago. He'd come round a little more over the course of the afternoon and the nurse had reduced his morphine dose. He no longer had the push button and had it administered intermittently instead. He'd been trying to pretend to be unconscious so Alex would just leave it all until the next day, but his tactic hadn't worked. He knew Alex was there for the duration.
Slowly he opened his eyes.
'’Bout time you stopped pretending, mate,' said Alex, looking up from his newspaper, 'I get it, though, don't worry. Trouble is, professional standards are coming tomorrow, and I wanted to see you first, get your version of events.'
'You mean find out if I'm dirty,' said Connor.
'Aye, that too,' replied Alex with a nod. 'Are you?'
'Depends on your definition, I guess. You need to understand something, though; I did what I did because Fred would've hurt my whole family. He held every single card and he knew it. He would've put Mum and Dad out on the streets, forced Marie to leave uni. I didn't have the money to pay for her uni and their house as well as mine. I know it sounds cowardly, I know I shouldn't have done it. But I didn't feel like I had a choice.'
'What are we talking about here, Connor? What didn't you have a choice about?'
'I gave Fred intel. Nothing major, just dates of drugs busts and what not, and where I could I fabricated it. He told me he'd hurt us all if I didn't.'
'OK, and you're gunna stick to that with standards. You tell them the whole truth, OK? No covering up, no lies, tell it like it was. Wanna tell me what happened in the shed now?'
'Dunno where to start. I just thought Dad was pottering down there. My mum has Alzheimer's and she was sitting in the window, quiet as a mouse. I just thought she was having a good day. I'd never been in his shed before. I didn't expect – I mean, I didn't know he –' Connor broke off, emotion clogging his throat.
'I’m sorry, Connor, I need to know what happened.'
'Dad had hung himself. I walked in the door and he was just swinging there. I knew he was dead, you know? Bu
t I still needed to try and help him, was going to give him CPR. But Fred wouldn't let me. He threw Dad's note at me. Laughed when I read it. He did it. He killed the girls we pulled out of the reservoir. My own dad. Though he's not really my dad, and that makes it even worse. Fred's my dad. I never had a chance. The man I thought was my dad is a killer, and the man I thought was my horrible criminal uncle is actually my dad. It's fucked up.'
'You just found this out? What happened then?’
‘I pulled out my phone to call the control room – I couldn't do it anymore, couldn't cover for any of them. I know my job’s over, there's no way prof standards will let me stay now. I dialled, and Fred lost it.’ Connor closed his eyes for a minute then opened them again. ‘He came at me with a knife. I pushed him away, tried to get him to stop. But he kept coming. It was like he was possessed. He didn't want me to tell, wanted me to help him cover it all up. I grabbed the only thing I could, didn't even know what it was. I hit him, and I killed him. Told you it was fucked up.'
'Killed him? Connor, Fred isn't dead. He's a few rooms along the corridor. And from the sounds of it, it was self-defence.'
The blood drained from Connor's face. 'Alive? But he can't be. He dropped like a stone. I hit him so hard.'
'Honestly, he's alive. I wouldn't lie, Connor.'
'Jesus. I'm fucked. He'll kill me. He ran it all. Gave the girls to Dad, knew everything that was going on. Marie can barely even look at me. She blames me. She's right. I could've stopped it years ago. I thought moving back up here from the Midlands would stop it, sever the ties once and for all. But Fred followed. Blackmailed me for info. I didn't know what to do.'
'You should've told someone, Connor, let us help you. As it stands, it'll be down to professional standards now. Everything will be taken into account though. Your mum's safe, by the way. She's in a council-run home over on the other side of the river. Marie's been staying at the Premier Inn. Make sure you pass all the information you know on Fred over: it will help your case. I shouldn't really be here, but I wanted you to know what was going on and I wanted your side of the story. That said I'd better make tracks. You did the right thing in the end, Connor. Try not to let all this eat you up.'
Alex left, and Connor realised he actually felt a little relieved. For the first time in a long time, he felt like a weight had been lifted. He wasn't being controlled like some puppet on a very short string. Whatever came of the professional standards investigation, he'd make sure he was OK. Him, Marie and his mum were all that mattered now.
20th November, 1835 hours – High Dependency Unit, Sunderland Royal Hospital
Marlo stuck her head around the door to Connor’s room, finding him awake but staring vacantly out of the window.
‘Hey,’ she said softly, trying not to scare him. She wasn’t sure he’d heard her come into the room. He jumped then winced as he turned to face her. ‘Sorry, didn’t mean to make you jump. How’re you doing?’
Connor shrugged, ‘OK, I guess. Just sitting here doing bugger all. They won’t let me go home.’
‘That’s kind of understandable. You were stabbed, guess they need to monitor you.’
He looked really sad as he shrugged again and said, ‘I know. Just hate hospitals is all.’
‘Oh quit your whingeing, you’re alive. That’s what counts. Sitting there doing naff all for a few weeks beats being dead any day. You were lucky from the sounds of it.’
‘Depends on your definition of luck,’ grumbled Connor.
‘Hey, enough already,’ Marlo’s voice was strict and she almost groaned as she realised how very ‘school ma’am’ she sounded. ‘I don’t care how much it hurts now, you’re still here. Pull your head out of your arse and be grateful.’
Connor had the grace to look contrite, but didn’t speak.
‘Look,’ she continued, softening her tone, ‘I know you’ve got it tough at the minute. I don’t know the ins and outs and you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, but you’re not alone here, Connor. You have friends and family who care for you. Whatever your mistakes, you’re a nice guy. If you need a friend, I’m here.’
Connor’s eyes filled at her kind words, all the stress catching up on him suddenly. Tears fell, and embarrassed, he swiped at them with the back of his hand.
‘Sorry, it’s just – I can’t –’
‘We all cry, there’s nothing to be ashamed of in that, Connor.’ Marlo handed him a tissue.
She was so focussed on Connor that she didn’t even register the door behind her had been pushed open.
She heard Connor cry out, and then everything seemed to start moving in slow motion. Marlo half-turned towards the door, and felt something hard hit the side of her head. Gravity defied her as she toppled forwards, not even having the time to put out her hands to stop herself from face-planting onto the floor.
Rivers of red ran through her eyes as she fought to stay conscious, and vaguely she heard Connor cry out again. Forcing herself to her knees, she made out a blurred form through the blood covering her eyes. The figure had Connor by the throat, and somewhere in her mind, she thought he was wearing a hospital gown.
Knowing Connor needed her help, she pulled herself up using the bed rails. Her legs wobbled as she fought the wave of nausea that swept over her. Carefully she pulled herself round the bed to the side where the male grappled with Connor. Taking a deep breath to steady herself, she tried to focus.
The man definitely wore a hospital gown, and he had his hands around Connor’s throat, squeezing hard, pure hatred shining in his eyes. He’d not even registered that Marlo had stood up. Which she knew worked to her advantage. She manoeuvred herself around the bed, and once behind the man, she used her training and quickly grabbed him in a choke-hold, kicking at the back of his knees to displace his weight.
His roar was primal and he let go of Connor and grabbed at Marlo’s hands. Pushing himself back to his feet, he threw himself backwards in an effort to release her hold. Marlo’s back smashed into the ledge around the base of the window and she grunted as pain burst across the base of her spine. She kept hold, though.
He bent double suddenly, trying to throw her over his head, but she was ready and had adjusted her own weight to compensate.
She heard him gurgle, his air supply cut off by the force of her arm against the front of his throat, and she knew he was starting to weaken. If she could just keep hold, then maybe he’d lose consciousness. Which was precisely what she couldn’t do. Even now, the corners of her mind were screaming at her to stop, to give up and embrace the darkness that threatened, but she couldn’t. Not yet.
He scratched at her arms, his too-long fingernails gouging welts into her skin, but still she held on. Is he ever going to go down? What the hell is Connor doing?
Marlo’s hold slipped even before she realised she’d allowed herself to become distracted and her attacker was ready. He tried to spin round as her legs collapsed on her and she sank to the floor, but she somehow managed to land in a tangle of mixed arms and legs.
Realising he was free, he rose to his feet, and booted Marlo hard to the ribs. She was sure she felt one crack under the impact, and braced herself for another impact.
It didn’t come.
She lifted her head and glanced up, but her vision was so blurred all she could see was a shadow sweep past her and slam the man into the wall at the back of the hospital room. Marlo shook her head, trying to rid herself of this incessant dizziness.
‘That’s blood on my arm… it’s my blood… oh, crap…’ the words had started with a hint of wonder but the second she realised it was her own blood, her head hit the floor as she fainted. Again.
Chapter Thirty-One
20th November, 1845 hours – High Dependency Unit, Sunderland Royal Hospital
The last thing Ali had expected to see on entering Connor’s room was Connor gasping for breath, and a blood-covered Marlo grappling with Fred Rockingham on the floor. Panic almost knocked him for six, and he’d seen Marlo
start to sink to the floor. The crack her ribs had made when Fred had kicked her had reverberated around the room, and he’d felt his breath catch.
Then the anger had arrived.
He’d all but flown around the bed and used his whole body weight to slam Rockingham into the wall behind the head of Connor’s bed.
Now he stood with his arm jabbed up into the man’s throat, practically daring him to fight back. ‘Calm the fuck down,’ he said. How he was managing to maintain control of his temper he didn’t know, but he was doing his best. Fred struggled beneath his arm, and in one movement, Ali spun Fred around and shoved his face into the wall. ‘In case you hadn’t gathered,’ he panted as he pushed Fred’s arm up his back, ‘You’re nicked. Now calm the fuck down before I put you down,’ said Ali firmly.
Fred was spent though. He sagged in his hospital gown beneath Ali’s grip and whispered, ‘It’s over.’ His head shook as though he couldn’t quite believe it.
‘What the…’ Alex’s astounded voice came from the doorway. ‘I go for coffee and come back to… What the hell is all this?’
‘Take him, Alex. Get him the hell out of my sight. I need to check on Marlo.’
‘Bitch deserved it,’ muttered Fred, his muscles tensing beneath Ali’s grip.
‘Don’t bother yourself,’ Alex’s voice was calm as he took over his brother’s hold on Fred and pushed him towards the hospital room door. ‘Like he said, you’re nicked. You do not have to say anything but anything you do say…’ Alex’s voice faded as he took Fred down the corridor.
‘A little help here,’ shouted Ali, kneeling beside Marlo.
20th November, 1920 hours – Sunderland Royal Hospital
Marlo groaned and opened her eyes. Her head felt like it was splitting in two, and the light was as sharp as a pin.
‘Christ,’ she said, trying to sit up.
The movement caused the room to tilt sideways, and her head flopped back down to the pillow.
Time to Play (North East Police) Page 25
