by Mel Sherratt
There was a long pause from him. Allie didn’t know what to fill it with.
‘What goes around comes around, hmm?’
‘Sorry?’ She didn’t quite catch his meaning.
‘Well, her father was a nasty piece of shit who deserved to be locked up. I suppose I shouldn’t complain that my wife is dealing with him again if it means solving a murder. Do you have to visit his house?’
‘You know he isn’t going to be there!’
‘But the memories . . .’
Allie closed her eyes for a moment. What was she supposed to do? Tell her DI that she couldn’t work the case anymore because her husband was annoyed that she could be in Terry Ryder’s clutches again?
‘I wish I could tell you to stay away, but I know you won’t,’ he added.
‘I can’t do that. I have to do my job. It’s not like I want to –’
‘So you’re not going to be back in time for tea this evening?’ he broke in.
‘No.’ She held back a sob. ‘I’ll definitely make time to call in and see Karen though, even if it’s really late.’
‘Okay. Priorities and all that.’
‘And you’ll call me the minute anything changes?’ She hated to sound so needy.
‘Of course I will.’
A small pause. ‘Mark?’
‘If it isn’t some maniac coming after you that I’m worried shitless about, it’s another one that nearly wrecked our marriage. Just be careful, Allie. I want you for myself – is that too much to ask?’
‘Of course it isn’t!’
Another pause. The noise around her came back into focus. People talking, machinery clanking, doors banging, lenses clicking. Life was going on while hers was suspended in time. And there was still a murder to solve.
‘I’m sorry,’ was all she could think of to say.
‘I’m not happy, but I’m not about to have a strop like a teenager and hang up either.’
‘I know. But, thanks.’
She disconnected the phone after another long silence between them. ‘I just need something from the car,’ she told Perry as she rushed off. Ignoring the people on the ground, she almost ran across the car park. The car had been reversed into a space with its boot up against the wall to the flats. She flicked up the boot lid, went to the back of the vehicle and dipped her head behind it, out of sight. She breathed in deeply, pressing her hand across her mouth. Squeezing her eyes tight, she gasped as she tried to contain her emotions. Why did this murder have to happen now? Why couldn’t it have happened next week or the week after, when she had said goodbye to her sister?
But she knew it wasn’t all to do with Karen. It was the guilt of everything rushing at her. She had let Karen down all those years ago but she had let Mark down too. Why hadn’t she been honest with him, shared her fears as well as her hopes?
If the man who had attacked her sister was watching her now, hiding while she broke down, he would think he had won. He’d done this to her. What a way to live her life.
No.
She wouldn’t let him win. She wouldn’t let Ryder win either.
‘Allie?’ Perry appeared gingerly by her side.
She wiped at her eyes quickly. ‘Be with you in a moment,’ she said, turning her back to him.
‘Okay.’
She heard him step away and then stop. ‘I’m not Sam so I can’t do the girlie thing but Lisa tells me I give her a mean hug that always cheers her up. Let me now if you need one.’
‘Piss off, you soppy sod. You’ll have me crying more.’ Allie looked at him through watery eyes, before batting him away with a hand. ‘I’ll be fine in a minute.’
3.45 P.M.
The press conference was due to start shortly. As senior investigating officer, Nick was running through some final preparations before it was time to speak. Even though Allie wouldn’t have to be in front of the camera, she could still feel her stomach flipping over at the thought of the footage going out live. She prayed that the residents in the flats didn’t start swearing loudly or pulling faces, do anything vulgar or disrespectful while they looked over from the walkways. She could just imagine the rumours that had been circulating around the flats during the day about who the man was and why the police wouldn’t give out his name yet. Jordan’s body had been removed from the crime scene half an hour ago now and formal identification would take place once they’d been briefed for the evening. Jordan’s name would most probably be given out formally later that night. Local press and radio had speculated as much as they could and she’d informed Simon Cole that she couldn’t give any definite answers yet, although he would still be the first to know.
Perry came over to her. ‘It couldn’t have happened in a worse place for privacy, could it?’
‘I know. Everyone seems to be taking a look.’ Allie glanced up through the drizzle that had started again in the last hour. ‘Bloody mobile phones – all the photos being taken no matter how many times we tell them not to or remove them, videos being made. They’ll be all over YouTube and we can’t police that as well.’
‘And we can hardly cordon off every home either.’ Perry shook the rain from his hair. ‘I’m sick of people complaining about us taking over the car park. I had someone have a go at me earlier, annoyed at being routinely questioned. They’ve got no respect for the fact that someone has died.’
‘Always the same, Perry. Murder’s okay as long as it’s not on your doorstep. Selfish, that’s what I call it.’
‘I just hope they show some respect for our vic’s family.’
‘Mrs Johnson has asked if she can lay flowers at the scene after seeing Jordan.’
Social media was the one thing Allie had mixed feelings about. Over the past few years, everything had become so open. She disliked the public’s penchant for watching another’s sorrow, seeing if they could pick out any suspects. She could almost hear the whispers above. ‘He hasn’t shed a tear. He must be guilty.’ ‘She doesn’t look upset. I bet it’s her.’ Everyone had their own thoughts. Luckily most kept them to themselves.
Nick beckoned them over. ‘We have enough cover at the office for when the number goes out,’ he told Allie. ‘For a few hours at least. It will be interesting to see if anyone talks.’
A short, stocky cameraman who looked better placed to be at home with his grandkids came across to them. ‘We’ll be going live as soon as you’re ready,’ he told Nick.
Allie watched Nick quickly flick over his notes for one final time and then walk towards where the microphones were set up. She followed, positioning herself to his left behind him, not directly on camera.
Nick cleared his throat and ran through the details they had so far. Then he took a few questions from the waiting press.
‘Can you say what the exact cause of death was?’ Simon Cole asked. Allie noted his confident stance, not deterred by the rabble of reporters jostling him for room.
‘We don’t have those details yet. Once the post-mortem has been carried out, I’ll be able to tell you more.’
Nick answered a few more questions and when there was a natural lull, looked into the camera again. ‘Anyone who has any information can contact us at the station or on the national crime line telephone. The numbers are coming up on your television screens. I have handouts for press.’ He turned to leave.
‘Speculation is that it’s Jordan Johnson. Can you confirm if this is true or not?’
All heads turned to see who had spoken. Allie groaned inwardly when she saw it was Pete Simpson from The Staffordshire Times.
Nick turned back to the camera. ‘That’s speculation. I can confirm nothing at this present moment. You all must understand that this is a sensitive issue and until we have formal identification for the family, we cannot give out a name.’ He walked away quickly. Allie followed, too.
‘They knew his name,’ said Nick as
she joined them. ‘I know it’s hard to keep it at bay but any idea how they got it?’
‘Just speculation, like you said,’ said Allie, ‘although there will be lots of staff from Flynn’s who know about it now.’
‘Let’s hope the press conference jogs someone’s memory.’ Nick glanced at his watch. ‘I’ll head back to the station, check in with the DCI and leave you to it here.’
‘Okay, sir.’
Once Nick had gone, Allie took out her phone to see if there were any new messages or emails for her to deal with. As she looked at the screen, she had the distinct feeling that someone was watching her. Her head shot up, her eyes skimming the small crowd who were rubbernecking. Was someone after her attention?
She watched for a little longer, but she couldn’t see anything in particular, just faces, people intrigued by what was happening. It still caused her to shiver.
‘You okay, boss?’ asked Perry.
Distracted, Allie looked up at him. ‘Hmm? Oh, yes, I’m fine. Just thinking what to tackle next.’
She smiled to appease him. There was no way she was telling him that. He’d never leave her side. Besides, she glanced around the area one more time, the feeling had gone now. It was probably something and nothing.
‘That stupid bitch!’ Craig flung down the TV remote control and grabbed his jacket. He left the flat and flew down the stairs, keeping his head bowed as he strode over to Stella.
‘Phone call for you.’ He grabbed her by the arm.
‘But I have my mobile with me and –’
‘I told you to keep your mouth shut,’ he seethed as he marched back up the stairs with her.
‘I haven’t said a thing!’
He kept his eyes peeled as he led her along the walkway. When they got to their front door, he pushed her inside and kicked it shut behind them.
Stella ran into the living room.
‘Who did you tell?’ He came in after her, slamming that door too.
‘No one!’ Stella held up her hands. ‘I swear I told no one.’
‘You must have. No one else knew.’
‘That reporter said people have been speculating all day. I’ve heard his name mentioned quite a few times.’
‘You do realise that the police will know someone in these flats knows something?’
‘You’re not listening to me! Whoever it was didn’t find out from me. Besides, people everywhere must know by now.’
Craig’s eyes narrowed. Of course it was possible. He’d received lots of messages from people asking if he’d heard what had happened.
‘Did you tell Leah?’ he asked.
Stella wouldn’t look at him.
‘What aren’t you telling me?’ Grabbing a handful of her hair, Craig dragged her through to the hall. ‘Was she the woman seen last night going into the flats at the same time Jordan was found. Was it Leah?’
‘No, I don’t think so.’
Craig raised his fist and pulled it back. ‘My fucking life might depend on this!’
‘Don’t hit me! Please!’ Stella began to cry. ‘She saw Jordan last night.’
Craig released his grip a little. ‘Go on.’
‘She was drunk. She can’t remember why but she knew it was Jordan. I didn’t tell her anything.’
Craig went out onto the balcony and marched towards Leah’s flat.
‘Hello?’ Leah answered her phone.
‘Leah!’ cried Stella. ‘Where are you?’
‘I’m in my flat. What’s –?’
‘Craig’s coming along. Make sure your door is locked.’
Leah ran to the door and locked it immediately. ‘What’s going on?’
‘He knows.’
‘You promised you wouldn’t say anything! Why the –’
There was a bang on the door. Leah jumped and ran into the kitchen. She peeped around the corner of the door frame. ‘He’s here,’ she whispered.
‘Did you lock the front door?’
‘Yes.’
‘Stay where you are and I’ll come to you when he’s gone.’
‘But –’ Leah heard the letterbox being lifted and pulled her head back sharpish.
‘Open the fucking door!’ Craig banged with his fist again. ‘I know you’re in there, Leah. Me and you need to have a little chat.’
Leah clamped a hand to her mouth to stop him from hearing her frantic breathing, a gasp, a sigh, anything that would give her away. Finally, she heard the letterbox snap shut, a kick at the bottom of the door and then silence.
‘Are you there, Leah?’ Stella was still on the phone.
‘Yes, I’m here,’ she said. ‘I can’t believe you grassed me up.’
‘I had to tell him. He was going to hit me, I swear. He wanted to know who I had told about Jordan’s name after it got out at the press conference.’
‘But I didn’t tell anyone!’ Leah’s voice came out high-pitched. ‘Don’t you dare go around spreading that rumour.’
‘I know it wasn’t you. Everyone was talking about Jordan Johnson. But Craig was so mad that he wouldn’t listen. You know how violent he can be. I panicked. I’m sorry.’
Leah dropped to the floor and pulled her knees into her chest. ‘What am I going to do now? Everyone will be after me if he says anything.’
‘I didn’t tell him about the money. I just told him that you came across Jordan last night and –’
‘It’s the same thing. He’ll work it out.’
‘Look, let me check from here where Craig goes. If he leaves, I’ll come to you.’
‘No, I don’t know if it’s safe.’ Leah stood up.
‘It’s me, Leah. You can trust me!’
‘I did trust you and look what’s happened!’
‘He just caught me unawares and scared the truth out of me. I never sold you out.’
Leah disconnected the phone and paced the room. Shit, she was in for it now. She had no choice but to move the money as soon as possible.
If she didn’t, she might lose more than ten thousand pounds.
4.15 P.M.
Jacob sighed when he heard the door to the communal stairs bang open and Craig appeared.
‘A word in your ear.’ Craig drew level with him and pushed him into the hallway of his flat.
‘What’s up?’ Jacob sensed this wasn’t going to go his way.
Craig punched him in the stomach. ‘Did you know it was Jordan Johnson?’ He was in his face again.
Jacob tried to push him off. ‘No!’
‘Don’t fucking lie to me!’ Craig shouted.
‘I’m not –’
Sandra came from out of the living room. ‘What the hell is going on now?’ she cried. ‘Can’t I have a minute’s peace around here today?’
‘Go back inside and shut the door,’ Craig told her.
‘No! This is my bloody –’
He pushed her away with his free hand. ‘I said go back inside!’
The door slammed and she was gone.
Craig punched Jacob in the stomach again.
He groaned, coughed, held up a hand. ‘I’m your eyes and ears, you said. That’s what I’ve been doing. Watching and listening – I haven’t spoken to anyone because I didn’t know anything.’
‘So who was it that told that fat reporter?’
‘It wasn’t me! I was just doing as you asked.’
‘Find out who it was.’ He pushed him to one side and headed for the door.
‘But – ’
‘I’ll be back in half an hour and you’d better have some answers!’
Jacob stooped, holding his stomach as he caught his breath again. He wished he could have lashed out at Craig. He was strong enough to take him, fight back and defend himself, but he hadn’t wanted to rouse suspicion. But what the hell was Craig talking abou
t, that no one would know Jordan’s name? He’d already had numerous text messages telling him who it was. News of that kind always travelled fast.
Craig must be losing it. The pressure was obviously getting to him.
Sandra ventured back into the hallway. ‘What the hell have you got into, Jacob?’ she cried.
‘What have I got into?’ Jacob’s face creased with anger. ‘It’s always me, isn’t it? Not your precious Tommy. He’s a troublemaker too but I never see you having a go at him.’
‘It is always you!’
‘Leave me alone.’
‘Jacob, wait!’
Jacob stepped back out onto the walkway. It was a good job Harrison House was known for everyone minding their own business. If anything was reported, the police would be on to it. All this coming and going, someone would see something.
He stood up tall, holding onto his stomach. How the hell had he thought this was going to be easy money?
5.00 P.M.
Leah sat on the armchair. She was dressed ready to go out, her jacket and gloves on against the cold and rain that was now settling in for the night, her hair bundled up inside a black woollen hat. Her right knee jiggled as she watched Sky News for further updates on Jordan Johnson before she plucked up the courage to go out.
It was dark enough to be pretty safe to risk it. Letting out the breath she’d been holding, she knew it was now or never. She had to chance it and hope that Craig wasn’t lying in wait for her. Her hands shook, sweating under the thick layer of wool as she picked up the bag of money, slipped it inside her jacket and zipped up. Sliding back the bolts at the top and bottom of the front door, she opened it slowly. She popped her head out enough to see that the walkway was empty. She stepped out and looked over the wall. Most people had gone in now, the wind and rain as unwelcome as the police intrusion.
