by Liz Mistry
11
23:45 Cottingley Ridge
As they approached the neighbours’ house, the door opened and Mrs Owen, a flamboyant woman in a scarlet kimono, gestured them through to the dimly-lit living room. Jane and James Proctor sat together on a red leather settee, faces pale and hands tightly clenched in their laps. The contrast between this home and the one they’d just left hit Gus in the gut. It wasn’t just the calmness after the activity in the Proctors’. It was something deeper than that, something clean and pure… Innocence? Whatever it was, Gus breathed it in, savouring the cleanliness, whilst conscious that his clothes still carried the noxious odours from the Proctors’ home. The family liaison officer sat opposite the worried couple on a matching chair.
When he saw which liaison officer had been assigned to Simon’s parents, Gus’ heart sank. If he found her irritating, he hated to think how the Proctors would react. He wished they’d sent Janine Roberts. She was unflappable and allowed the family space to breathe. This one, whose name he could never remember, was downright irritating. In-your-face the entire time; sugary sweet and overly solicitous. He could only hope that the Proctors wouldn’t find her so. She jumped to her feet immediately and made the introductions. Gus managed a smile and then asked her to take Mrs Owen into the kitchen so they could have privacy.
Gus and Alice had just loosened their coats and sat down on the two chairs opposite the Proctors, when the door opened and kimono woman popped her head through. ‘Cup of tea?’
Gus groaned. Couldn’t the damn FLO keep her away for two bloody seconds? Hoping his grin was friendlier than it felt, Gus declined, ignoring the smirk on Alice’s face that told him she’d seen his eye roll.
‘Coffee…? No. Okay I’ll let you get on with it. I’m just in the kitchen if you need anything.’
As the door shut, Gus turned to the Proctors, leaning forward, elbows on knees. ‘I know this must be really hard for you, but we just need some information, then we’ll get you settled into a hotel for the night. We’ll take a proper statement tomorrow, okay?’
Mr Proctor’s shoulders slumped and his wife looked in front of her, her mouth slack and her eyes vacant.
Gus turned to Alice. ‘Al, book a double with breakfast at The Mansions, please.’
Mr Proctor ran his fingers through his hair and put his other arm round his wife’s shoulders. ‘Gemma offered to put us up here. To be honest, I don’t think we’ll sleep tonight although we could do with some privacy.’ He glanced at his wife. ‘Couldn’t we, Jane?’
She started and looked up at him, her eyes glazed. ‘What?’
He squeezed her shoulders tighter, his knuckles whitening with the pressure. ‘Privacy. I’m just telling the detective inspector that we could do with some privacy.’
Jane glanced at Gus as if she’d only just noticed his presence. ‘Have you found him yet? Simon? Have you found him?’
Gus gave his best comforting smile. He was sure it made him look manic, deranged. Unlike Alice, he’d never quite mastered the art of offering platitudes. It was too much like lying or offering false hope to people who’d grip onto any lifeline offered to them, even if it would ultimately sink them. Extracting information from parents like the Proctors entailed a fine balancing act. On the one hand, he was sympathetic to the fact that they had just suffered a great shock and were now fearing for their son Simon – who, he’d been told, was their only child. On the other, though, the case was time-sensitive and he needed to extract as much information as possible from the couple right now. He couldn’t afford to give them the luxury of a night’s rest and time to come to terms with the situation. He had to strike now.
A quick assessment of the two told him that whilst James Proctor gave an outward appearance of holding things together, he, too, was near breaking point. His face was grey and drawn and he kept clenching and unclenching his fists. Mrs Proctor, by contrast, looked like a zombie. An air of inertia hung over her. Even a simple hand movement seemed to drain her of what little reserves of energy she had.
‘No, Mrs Proctor, not yet. We’re doing our very best.’
Her striking blue eyes looked directly into Gus’ for a second and then she nodded, as if reassured by whatever she saw there. When she spoke, her voice was slurred and slow. Gus knew she hadn’t been medicated, so he put her delayed reactions down to shock.
‘Call me Jane.’ She lifted a hand to Gus and then, as if it was too much effort, she let it drift back down to rest on her thigh. Closing her eyes, she inhaled and drew away from her husband’s arms, pulling her shoulders back and exhaling as she did so. Opening her eyes again, she linked the fingers of both hands together in her lap. Her entire body remained still, bar for the thumbs that twiddled circles around one another as she spoke. ‘I suppose you’ve got things to ask, so please go ahead. Before you do, though, I want to make one thing clear, so you don’t waste your time going off in the wrong direction.’
Her eyes, more focussed now, met first Gus’ then Alice’s. ‘Simon… did not… touch that… poor girl,… you know?’ Each word was punctuated by a pause.
Holding her gaze, Gus said, ‘Jane, we’re not suggesting he did. However, we really need to find him, so we know what went on at this party and to make sure that he’s alright. Now, you’ve tried his phone, but it’s switched off, is that right?’
‘We’ve tried repeatedly since we got back. It goes straight to voicemail. Last time we spoke to him was about 8:30 on Saturday night.’
‘How did he sound? Was he at home? Could you hear anything else in the background?’
Jane wiped her eyes with a ragged tissue. ‘It was a short conversation. Just to touch base, you know? He said he was fine and at home watching telly.’ Her twiddling thumbs increased in speed. ‘We trusted him.’
Reaching over, James placed his hand over Jane’s. The bulk of his frame emphasised how fragile his wife looked as he repositioned his arm around her shoulders and pulled her head to rest there, mumbling reassuring words that were inaudible to Gus and Alice.
Averting his eyes, Gus gave them a few seconds before asking, ‘What about friends? Have you tried to contact them?’
Lifting her head from her husband’s embrace, Jane swallowed hard. ‘We’ve phoned everyone. No-one knows where he is. His two best friends are unobtainable and no-one else seems to have been at the party or they’re not telling us, anyway.’
‘Who are his best friends?’
‘Jake Carpenter and Matthew Bates. We’ve tried their homes, too, and got the answer machine.’
‘Give their numbers to DS Cooper and we’ll follow it up. Addresses too, if you have them. We’re going to have to ask you to write a list of all of Simon’s friends.’
At least they’d feel like they were doing something if they did that.
‘Did Simon have a girlfriend?’
Both parents shook their heads. Then Jane snorted ‘Maybe he did and didn’t tell us. You never know with sixteen-year-olds. I mean, he promised not to have a party or anything and look what happened. Who knows what other lies he’s told us?’ Her eyes filled with tears and she kneaded her knees with trembling hands.
‘You’re doing really well. Just a couple of other things and then we’ll be on our way. Do you know a girl called Jade Simmonds?’
The pair looked at each other and then shook their heads. James swallowed, then in a quiet voice asked, ‘Is she the girl in our bedroom?’
Gus shook his head. ‘No, we haven’t managed to identify her yet and you said you didn’t recognise her at all?’
James’ face paled and his hand shook as he lifted it to push his hair back from his forehead. ‘No, never seen her before in my life.’ His voice caught in his throat and he rubbed his arm across his eyes. ‘Bloody tragic. Poor girl. How could this have happened? Who would have done something like this?’
‘What about Tayyub Hussain? Do you know him?’
Jane’s eyes lit up for a moment. ‘Oh Tayyub, yes of course we know Tayyub. He�
�s a friend of Si’s. Don’t know why I didn’t think to try him. Simon’s probably there.’ With a smile, she withdrew her phone from her pocket, but Gus laid his hand on her arm. ‘Wait a minute, Jane. Put it on speaker phone. Ask if Simon’s there and nothing more. Don’t give any details, okay?’
Taking a deep breath, Jane dialled Tayyub’s number. The phone rang three times before going to voice mail. With a sigh, she hung up.
James patted her knee. ‘He might still be there, Jane. He might.’ The last was said as if he was trying to convince himself more than Jane.
‘Or he might be lying dead in a damn gully somewhere, James. After everything he’s been through too. It’s not fair. It’s just not fair.’ Jane lifted her hands to her face, bowed her head and began to cry.
This was horrible. Gus’ experience with his mum earlier in the year told him that not knowing was worse than anything. He would have given anything to be able to say, ‘There, there, it’s okay. Everything’s going to be just fine.’ He couldn’t, though. He, of all people, knew that life could be shite and that, just when you thought things couldn’t get any worse, your life could take a nosedive into a cesspool without breathing apparatus.
He stood up and began to put his coat back on. ‘Look, keep trying Tayyub and his other mates. If you get through, just find out if Si is there, or when they last saw him. Don’t mention anything else and only phone when the family liaison officer is with you, okay?’ Not that he held out much hope of her being any bloody use to the Proctors. He must have scowled because Alice nudged him and frowned. Taking the hint, he schooled the furrows in his forehead away and pasted on a smile.
‘I think you’ve given us everything we need for now. I’ll get somebody to take you to the hotel. Get that list of all his friends with addresses and contact phone numbers to us. Your family liaison officer here will make sure any information you need to give us gets to us and also that anything we find out gets to you. Please don’t speak to the press. They’re animals and will hound you given the chance. Again, your FLO can get rid of them for you.’ Well, he hoped she could anyway.
Gus had turned to leave when Jane Proctor jumped to her feet, grabbing his arm. ‘He’s not dead, is he? You don’t think he’s dead?’
Gus patted her arm. ‘Mrs Proctor, at this stage we don’t know anything. His body wasn’t found in the house, so the chances are he just got frightened and ran away.’
He turned to her husband. ‘Do you need a doctor to prescribe something to help you sleep? It won’t do anyone any good if you’re exhausted, will it?’
James shook his head. ‘We’ll be fine, thanks, won’t we, Jane?’ And he put both arms round his wife and held her close.
12
23:55 Heaton/Cottingley
Matty: Mrs P still ringing
Jake: Me too
Matty: What’ll we do?
Jake: Told you. Keep fuckin’ shtum!
Matty: They must’ve found her. Am brickin’ it!
Jake: Pussy! Fucking man up.
Jake:… and go to fucking sleep, Tosser!
Matty: You’re the Tosser. Shouldn’t have listened to you. Should’ve stayed like I wanted to.
Jake: Shut up Matty. We’re in this together now. Just keep fucking shtum or Si will kill us. You know what he’s like!
Matty: Maybe he’s dead. Then none of it’ll matter.
Jake: Grow up… and shut up, ok?
Monday
13
00:30 Cottingley Ridge
When they reached the pavement, Gus breathed in the ice-cold air, pulled a bottle of Irn Bru from his pocket and took a deep slug. ‘I hate these sorts of cases. Nowt good’s gonna come of all this.’
Glancing over Gus’s shoulder, Alice groaned. ‘Talking of “nowt good”. It looks like it’s heading this way as we speak.’
Gus turned round and swore under his breath as a bull of a man strutted towards them, his pugnacious face set in an irritating sneer. This was the last person he wanted to see at his crime scene. The man was objectionable and downright obstructive. He’d tried his best to make Gus’ life miserable on The Matchmaker case. ‘I thought we’d seen the last of DS Knowles when DCI Hussain went. Thought the pillock had been transferred to Skipton.’
Alice turned her back on Knowles as he approached and muttered ‘No such bloody luck by the looks of it.’ She grinned. ‘He’s not a DS anymore, Gus. Got demoted. He’s a bog-standard DC now.’
Knowles stopped just a little too close to Gus, invading his personal space. Recognising the tactic, Gus stepped even closer and straightened to full height, towering over the shorter man. ‘Well?’
Knowles raised his eyebrows, his mouth curled and his arms held loosely by his sides. Gus recognised it as a fighter’s stance and he recalled the other man was an amateur boxer.
When Knowles spoke, his tone was a hair’s width away from insolence. ‘Well, what?’ He hesitated as Gus’ eyebrows raised before adding, ‘Sir.’
Gus glared at him. ‘Watch yourself, Knowles. I’m not about to put up with your shit, not even for a short time. Give your report and then you get on back to headquarters. I don’t want you anywhere near this enquiry. Understood?’
Knowles lowered his gaze, flicking a glance to his right, his face reddening as he did so. Gus realised then that a small group of officers had gathered within hearing. Seemed that Knowles hadn’t made many friends in Bradford. ‘Didn’t know you were back, Knowles. What did you do to get kicked out of Skipton?’
Knowles’ mouth tightened. ‘I asked to be transferred back. Wanted to keep an eye on the likes of you.’ He took a deep breath and then as DC Talvinder Bhandir approached, he snorted. ‘I see you’ve kept your positive discrimination quota up… sir. Despite that Hussain bird dumping you.’
Gus’ stomach clenched. Hearing Sadia’s name on Knowles’ lips had knocked him off kilter for a second. It didn’t happen so often now; only when he was caught off guard. However, it wasn’t the jibe about Sadia that pissed him off. It was the underlying venom in the other man’s words. His racist intent was clear, yet he’d said nothing Gus could get him for.
Alice tutted and stared him out, whilst Gus prodded him on the shoulder. ‘That’s where you’re wrong, Knowles. I don’t select my team on the basis of positive discrimination. I select them because they’re the best investigative officers of their rank.’ He leaned right into Knowles’ face. ‘That’s why you’ll never make it onto my team. You’re just. Not. Good. Enough.’ Gus punctuated his final four words with additional prods to Knowles’ shoulder. He stood back, and winked at Taffy and Alice, his tone containing no trace of its previous venom. ‘Now let your superior officers hear your report and then bog off.’
Knowles glared in turn at all three of them and then spat a globule of phlegm on the ground, close to Alice’s boot. She glowered, ‘Uggh, you are a despicable little man, aren’t you?’
He ignored her and looked at Gus. ‘Nothing to report.’
Gus frowned. ‘You’ve been here for almost three hours and you’ve nothing to report?’ He folded his arms across his chest and shook his head slowly from side to side. ‘It’s that lack of precision that lets you down, Knowles. Let’s see if I can help you out. Why don’t you share some of your thoughts about the people you interviewed?’
Knowles’ eyes flicked away as he shuffled the ground.
‘You did interview some neighbours, didn’t you? Or did you just eat biccies and drink coffee all evening, whilst we’ve got two dead bodies and a missing lad on our hands? Come on, tell us what you thought about them.’
Breathing deeply, fists clenched by his sides, Knowles swallowed before replying. ‘I don’t get paid to think.’
Taffy’s gasp made a good job of drowning out Alice’s snort. Raking his fingers through his hair, Gus took a deep breath. Officers like this were the bane of his life. Just as well there weren’t too many of them left in Bradford. Knowles and officers like him had been weeded out. Their adherence to proc
edures was suspect and their methods downright appalling, so the powers that be had, when possible, rooted them out of the police altogether. However, the few that had slipped through the cracks for one reason or another had, on the whole, been diverted to areas where they could do little damage. Gus struggled to control his temper. Even so, his voice boomed through the night air when he spoke, ‘That’s fucking crap and you know it! Thinking is exactly what we all get paid for. You really are a useless article and I’ll certainly be passing my observations onto your new boss.’
Alice rested a hand on Gus’ arm and, with a quick nod, he ran his fingers through his dreads again and reigned in his formidable temper. ‘Just get off my crime scene, now.’
Knowles spun round on his heel and began to strut off, his walk unhurried, his stance arrogant. Then he turned back, his voice full of glee. ‘Forgot to mention it, DS Cooper, your paparazzi friend was hanging around earlier. Probably waiting for you to leak a few crucial facts to him again like you did in Keighley.’
Gus, anticipating Alice’s reaction, reached out to grab her, however he was too late to stop her marching over to Knowles and slapping him on the face. The unmistakeable sound of flesh hitting flesh with force hung in the air, causing an immediate silence as the officers nearby turned to look.
Knowles stroked his hand over the reddening mark and glared at her. ‘You’ll regret that, Cooper. I’m going to write this up when I get back. You won’t get away with it. That’s assault.’
Gus glanced round, seeing only a few officers nervously watching the scene. He, recognised them and knew that, like him, they’d have no sympathy for Knowles, who was well known as a lazy backstabbing piece of shit. He turned to Knowles. ‘If you cause me or anyone on my team a single moment of discomfort, I promise you I’ll come after you. You think your old buddies Alfie Redmond and Jazz Panesar will have your back? Well they won’t. They rely on me now at The Fort. So, if I need any shit dealt on a little bulldog like you, I know where to go. Got it?’
