He Knows Your Secrets

by Charlie Gallagher

  ‘You been watching me for long?’ Kelly looked past the woman but couldn’t see anyone else. She looked back over her shoulder, too, through the door to where the rain was still coming down hard. The bit of the street she could see was deserted save for shiny cobbles. The whole of the doorway flickered briefly and the rumble of thunder was quick to follow. The woman was feeding in the coins as if she was in some sort of race.

  ‘Watching you? Don’t be soft. I just came in here to get out of the rain. Then I thought, you can never have enough two-pence pieces! You on your way somewhere?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Well, that told me!’ The woman laughed. ‘Sorry okay, I talk a lot. People always tell me that. I can see you want to be left alone.’ Her stool scraped again. She stood up to the sound of coins hitting the floor where they tipped out of her pot. The woman cussed and bent to retrieve them. With her attention elsewhere, Kelly took the opportunity to get a better look at the woman. She was older than her, mid-thirties maybe — a similar age to Holly. Attractive, too, with her jet-black hair that was long and straight, despite the weather. She had a white vest top that was wet round the shoulders from the rain and tight, black jeans that ran into flat shoes.

  ‘It’s okay,’ Kelly said. ‘I’m not the most talkative at the moment. Actually, you’re helping me out. Fat boy, over there, already gave me a warning about spending too much time in here without spending the money. It’s not like it’s any skin off his nose. Jobsworth.’ Kelly decided that getting into a conversation with someone might not be a bad thing. She didn’t reckon the manager would have the balls to take on both of them.

  ‘I’ll say. Why would he give a shit? You’re spending money anyway.’ The woman leaned over to look into her pot. ‘There must be like sixteen pence in there!’

  Kelly laughed. She wasn’t sure where it came from. The ridiculousness of the situation might have helped as she found herself in the kid’s section of an amusement arcade, trying to make a fiver last the rest of the night.

  ‘You eaten?’ The woman was back to forcing as many coins into the slot as she could. Kelly watched her for a few more seconds.

  ‘You’re not here for the two-pence pieces, are you?’ Kelly’s laughter had died and she was back to looking around, trying to see who else was with the woman.

  ‘I couldn’t care less about them, Kelly. I just want to make sure you’re okay. You can’t react, though, okay? Just play your game. Did you know someone was watching you?’

  ‘So you have been watching me?’

  ‘I didn’t mean me. Someone else.’

  Kelly stared at her. ‘How do you know my name?’

  ‘Play your game, Kelly. Then we talk.’

  Kelly did as she was told. She plunged her hand into her pot and picked out a coin. She pushed it into the slot but she wasn’t watching where it fell. She glanced to the door, plotting her move out if she needed it. ‘Who are you?’

  ‘My name’s Maddie Ives. I’m here to help you — and not just you. Marlie too. But you have to help me.’

  ‘Who says I need help?’

  ‘I know you’re scared, Kelly, I just don’t know why. Same as I know someone’s been watching you for a while. I don’t know why that is either.’

  ‘What’s it to do with you?’

  ‘You don’t seem surprised?’

  ‘I won’t ask again but I will leave,’ Kelly said.

  ‘I’m a copper, a detective. I’m investigating a local man called Freddie Rickman. I think you’re involved with him. I think the man doing a bad impression of playing the slots over there might be involved with him, too, and I think you may be in danger. Am I anywhere near the money?’ She was still looking forward, still feeding coins into the slot.

  ‘I could see it was a wig. I thought you were a hooker. I didn’t get copper from you straight away.’

  The detective jangled her pot of copper coins. She pushed another couple in. ‘Well, that was the look I was going for. I used to be good at it so I’m delighted I’ve still got it.’

  ‘What do you want from me?’

  ‘To take you to dinner. Somewhere quiet so he can’t get too close. When you’re asked why, you can tell them that I’m new to the area. I’m looking for a house to work from and I heard about you. You’re offering to introduce me to Marlie, maybe. But I need to talk to you. Off the record.’

  ‘What about?’

  Though her head stayed forward, the detective’s eyes kept darting to the man on the slots. She pushed more coins in as she continued. ‘I talked to a woman who lives on Capel’s clifftop. I think you met her, too. She said you were going to talk to us about something. About Holly. She died so she could force the pieces of a puzzle on me. I think the final piece was supposed to be you.’

  ‘You don’t know anything.’

  ‘Then tell me.’

  Kelly was drawn to movement. Two men walked in; one stopped next to her to shake rain from a black jacket. She couldn’t see his face. She didn’t think he was taking any notice of her but she couldn’t be sure. She waited for him to keep walking. He said something to a man he was walking behind, they both laughed and continued through to the same wall of fruit machines that the other man was sat at. She looked them over. ‘I can’t. I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

  ‘Then it will be a silent dinner but dinner all the same. Somewhere dry and where you can feel safe for an hour. I’m not the only police officer here. No one can get to you. I can make that permanent if you’ll give me a chance.’

  ‘Permanent?’

  ‘We can protect you, Kelly. I just need you to tell me what I’m protecting you from.’

  Kelly reacted to the use of her name again. Again she looked around, trying to pick out any other coppers that might be hiding in the shadows. She didn’t trust them, never had, not their motivations and not their abilities either. She couldn’t afford to be seen with a police officer, not if Freddie did have someone out watching her. Not until she had control of Libby.

  ‘I can’t.’

  ‘Do you know where Marlie is?’ the detective persisted. ‘A lot of people are really worried about her. Her girls . . . they seem to think you might know.’

  Just the mention of that name had Kelly sucking in a breath of rushed air. She knew the woman would have seen her reaction and she was worried someone else might have too. She had to get out of there. She didn’t want any more questions. She didn’t know this woman was who she said she was; Freddie could have sent her to test her. ‘I have to go!’ she said, with a sudden intensity.

  ‘Are you okay? You seem upset.’ That phrase . . . the voice that accompanied it . . . Suddenly Kelly recognised it as the woman who had come to the door when they were running through Truro House, expecting it to be Freddie. She had said she was a copper then, too. She had to be. Kelly hesitated. For a second, she considered changing her mind, taking the dinner invite and pushing all this stress and pressure onto her. Then her mind flashed to a scenario where she might have to lie. If she was being watched she would be asked who she met with. Right now, she didn’t think she had the strength to lie, not when she knew that Libby’s life would depend on it.

  ‘I’m fine. I’ve got to go . . . There’s a problem at home. My . . . my bin’s missing.’

  The detective stared at her as if she was mad but she didn’t stop her from getting up. She heard her call out after her, though. She was loud and sounded angry.

  ‘FINE! I don’t need your help anyway! I can find my own tricks! Maybe start up my own house, yeah? THANKS FOR NOTHING!’

  Kelly didn’t look back.

  * * *

  Maddie finished her bucket of two-pence pieces. The next few after Kelly left were pushed angrily into the machine to keep up her charade. The man who had been playing the slots soon got up and walked right past her. He took a good look at her as he passed but she kept facing forward, slapping the glass to add to the effect. She gave him enough time to get clear then spun on her c
hair and made for the exit, waving a dismissive hand at an employee who had crossed the floor to remonstrate with her.

  The rain immediately lashed her in the face and soaked her to the skin. Kelly Dale had turned left but there was no sign of her on the slick cobbles. The man who had been her shadow was gone, too. The only sign of life was a man huddled in a doorway with a hood up who stepped out and turned towards her.

  ‘Did you get it?’ she said.

  ‘Of course I got it,’ Vince said. He was grinning. He threw a crumpled jacket at her and then thrust his hands into his pockets.

  ‘And he didn’t see you?’

  ‘Give me some credit, Mads! It ain’t just you with the softer skills, you know.’

  ‘I just know that subtlety might not be your strongest point.’ She wrapped herself up against the rain but that horse had bolted; the water was already running freely down her back and chest.

  ‘What are you talking about! I’ve been copping a look all my life! Ain’t often I get caught these days. Fine art it is!’

  Vince turned the lit screen of his phone towards her. She bent in to look at the image. It was good enough. He had captured the man in full stride, walking right past him. There was enough of his face for comparison.

  ‘Okay, good.’

  ‘What do you need it for anyway?’

  ‘I’m going to run it against the associates for our friend Rickman, see if I can find out who he is.’

  ‘You think Rickman sent him?’

  ‘I do. He’s rattled.’

  ‘You think she might come to some harm?’

  ‘She’s scared of something. Really scared.’ Maddie shivered, the rain wasn’t quite as torrential but she could still feel the water spreading down her back. ‘We should get out of this rain.’

  ‘We should. So what now, then? A nice dinner somewhere, maybe? Just the two of us? Or we go for a different sort of night and find somewhere hosting a wet t-shirt competition? I reckon you’d storm it, sarge!’

  ‘I don’t think so, Vince. It’s been a long day already without having to feign interest for another hour. Anyway we might get spotted. I wouldn’t want you to get in trouble over something so totally unattainable.’

  Vince boomed out with laughter. ‘Unattainable?’

  ‘Just drive the car, Vince. We still have a couple of stops before I head back in.’

  Vince shrugged. ‘Whatever. You’re paying my overtime bill!’

  ‘Overtime? You mean you’re not just doing this for the love?’

  ‘You just told me that was unattainable!’

  ‘The love of the job, Vince.’

  ‘Definitely not for that.’

  * * *

  The caretaker did nothing to hide his displeasure at Maddie’s second visit and she did nothing to apologise.

  ‘Still raining?’ The man grinned as Maddie swept damp hair from her forehead. She was already aware that the removal of the wig had left it squashed down and frizzy and she was in no mood for small talk.

  ‘Spitting.’ His smile dropped away when he took the time to observe Vince. He was standing just off her shoulder.

  ‘I know ’im,’ the caretaker gestured.

  ‘Of course you do, Mick! I used to be here a lot. You were gonna sort me a room at one point. Nothing recent though?’ Vince spoke with his usual lack of volume control.

  ‘Well, no. I been keeping a lid on the place. Just like I told you I could if you lot just left me alone.’

  ‘We always leave you alone, Mick. It’s the drug dealers you keep letting in that we come here to bother.’

  ‘I don’t let in no drug dealers! The last four have been crashing with someone else. I put it on their tenancy that they can’t have no one staying. I do what I can.’

  ‘The last four! Tells you all you need to know about this place, Mick! And you wonder why we keep coming back.’

  ‘It’s always about something I got no idea about. I told the pretty lady that last time. What you back for? And at this time of the night!’

  ‘I need your keys,’ Maddie said. ‘Flats ten, twelve and twenty-two. I’ve been knocking the doors — no one’s answering.’

  ‘That ain’t against the law last time I checked? People don’t need to answer you lot and I can’t just be letting you in just ’cause they don’t.’

  ‘You’re right. I just wanted to give you the option.’ Maddie started moving away.

  ‘What you mean by that?’ Mick called after her.

  ‘Vince, here, is going to kick the doors off their hinges. He’s looking forward to it — I think that’s a man thing. I told him we would come and try and get it done the simple way but I understand what you’re saying.’

  ‘Those ain’t my flats! I ain’t got access or nothing to do with them!’

  ‘I checked the tenancy agreement. One of your residents was very happy to share it. Turns out the flats might not be yours, but the doors are. It’s a little unusual that, but Vince here says it happens a lot down here in these types of places. You have to ensure the building meets fire regulations. That means all communal doors, corridors and fire doors — which includes all the front doors to the flats — are your responsibility. So any damage is yours to deal with.’

  ‘Don’t mean I got access — just that I got to clean up your mess.’

  ‘That means you installed them. Am I to believe you installed the doors and didn’t keep a spare key? You’d have every right to. You have the responsibility to repair and inspect them. You can’t do that if they’re locked. The resident I spoke to was certainly under the impression that you had a key to her place. She wasn’t happy about it either — I wasn’t detecting a lot of trust for their caretaker.’

  ‘Trust! You leave that at the door at a place like this. I’ve been here a long time so you can trust me on that.’

  ‘Another reason why I know you have access is—’

  ‘You got a warrant?’

  ‘Nope. I’ve got a missing person with links to those flats. I am concerned for life and limb. Section seventeen of PACE tells me I can kick the door in to make sure she isn’t dead behind it.’ Maddie turned away to add some pressure, to force a snap reaction. She was fibbing. Section 17 was a power utilised by police to gain access, but she would need a lot more to invoke it; a tentative link to a woman who had no auditable links to the abode in question would never be enough. And she was never going to be able to kick those doors in. ‘Vince is dying to kick something.’ She kept walking. She could hear Vince close behind her.

  ‘Hold up, yeah?’ Mick called after them. ‘I’ll open the door. You can have a look but I’ll be with you, so no snooping. You get to make sure there’s no one dead in there. There ain’t — I can tell you that for nothing. But if you lot are going to do what you want anyway, I might as well save myself the clear-up job.’

  Maddie stopped and smiled back at Mick. ‘You’re unusual, you know that?’

  ‘What, ’cause I’m helping you lot out?’

  ‘No. Because you tell us bits for nothing!’

  Flat 22 was the first one they came to. Mick made a show of knocking and shouting loudly, taking his time. Maddie hung back with her arms crossed, happy for him to hold them up a few minutes and play out his little protest. Finally he pushed the door open and gestured instantly.

  ‘See — nothing!’

  He was right, too. There was literally nothing. The walls were stripped bare and the thinning carpet was the only sign of colour. It had track lines, suggesting that it had been hoovered recently. There wasn’t a scrap of furniture, not a single personal belonging. Maddie stepped in, ignoring Mick’s protestations. The kitchen was around a sharp corner and the sparse theme continued. There was a smell at least: bleach. It was unmistakeable. She pulled open a cupboard to find her first items: a discarded sponge in a small plastic basket. In the bathroom she found a few crumpled bottles of shower gel. But that was it.

  The bathroom smelled of bleach, too. The metal taps and edges of t
he shower surround were scrubbed so hard she could see herself.

  ‘Do your occupants usually leave like this?’

  ‘I said I would let you in. I don’t need to be answering no more questions.’

  ‘Okay then. I suggest you let me into the other two.’

  Mick fell silent but he was dutiful. He led them down a level to the two rooms that were right next to each other. It was the same story in both: stripped walls and scrubbed floors. There were two items of furniture in total. Both were in Flat 12: matching dining room chairs with cracked plastic tops pulled out into the middle of one of the rooms. The chairs also smelled of bleach and had dried watermarks on them from where they looked to have been cleaned.

  ‘Someone really scrubbed these places. It’s almost like they were worried the police might turn up for a look round?’

  Mick shrugged. ‘You get good leavers and bad leavers.’

  ‘He’s left, then? Freddie I mean? Or at least his decorator has. Without decorating, I might add.’

  ‘I told you before . . . these ain’t my flats. You’ll have to ask the management who they belong to and what they are doing with them.’

  ‘Of course, I forgot. Thanks for the reminder. I guess I’ve wasted enough of your time. I’ve certainly wasted enough of mine.’

  ‘I’ll lock up, then.’ Mick’s face flickered a smile. Maddie turned away from it to make her way out.

  * * *

  The Major Crime office was just a dark block through the glass in the double doors as Maddie approached. She pulled the door open and sensors clunked a greeting, then bright, white lights flickered on overhead. Maddie had to narrow her eyes as she made for her desk. Vince was behind her.

  ‘You can head off, Vince. I really appreciate you staying on.’

  ‘Are you getting off too?’

  She sighed. ‘Soon.’

  ‘That means no!’

  ‘I told the boss I was staying on to get some stuff done on a case file. I’ll need to do something on it. There might be some good news on my email, too. I had people looking for any social media stuff on Kelly Dale and I want to have another look through Holly’s stuff. If it turns out I missed something . . . well, I don’t know what I’ll do.’