Uncommon Cruelty (a DI Gus McGuire case Book 4)

by Liz Mistry

  Gus had offered to drive, but Alice had insisted, saying it kept her focussed and stopped her mind from wandering. The previous night they hadn’t spoken about the probable consequences of Sean Kennedy’s allegations, and although he suspected Alice would have already worked out the implications for herself, he needed to be sure of that, yet he dreaded the conversation.

  Alice had chosen to back-track from Cottingley Ridge and into Heaton to avoid the inevitable traffic through Shipley to Frizinghall. She’d taken a left down Shay and Gus couldn’t prevent himself from glancing out the window as they passed his parent’s old farmhouse. With a jolt he saw that his mum was in the drive with the dogs, throwing a ball and laughing. As the car drew level with the newly erected metal gate, her head turned to the sound of the car and her small frame went rigid as she backed towards the house. Gus put out his hand and squeezed Alice’s arm. ‘Pull in for a minute. Just want a word with my mum.’

  Alice indicated and pulled in. She glanced beyond Gus and then turned to him. ‘Go on, I’ll wait here.’

  Gus got out of the car and marched to the gate. It was around five feet tall and had a state of the art keypad to the side. Bit like bolting the door after the proverbial horse, he thought, but he understood that it made his mum feel secure, and his dad too. Having been told, and forgotten the entry digits, Gus took a few steps back, ran at the gate and scrabbled over it, landing on the other side with a bump.

  It wasn’t the most secure barrier although, it did afford a modicum of reassurance for his parents without completely obliterating their view of the road. It meant Corrine could see out. Sometimes the monsters you couldn’t see were scarier than those you could and Gus had advised his dad accordingly.

  Smiling, all trace of her previous apprehension chased from her face, Corrine bustled towards him, all three dogs, his own Bingo included, jumping up at her side as she walked. Seeing his master, Bingo yelped and headed straight for Gus, tail wagging and his wet nose burrowing into Gus’ lowered hand. Gus petted the dog, yet kept his gaze fixed on his mum as he approached her.

  ‘You know you don’t need to do that,’ he said.

  Corrine shrugged. ‘Well, who else is going to exercise them if I don’t?’

  Gus shook his head. She was so infuriating. She knew exactly what he meant, and she was trying to deflect him. Scowling, he moved forward and engulfed her in a huge hug. ‘You know perfectly well I’m not talking about taking the dogs out. I’m talking about playing with them here, in the drive.’

  She thrust out her lower lip and pouted. ‘Look, it’s safe now. Your dad fitted the gates with the remote so nobody can come in unless they’re admitted.’ She glared at Gus. ‘Other than those who blatantly ignore the “No Entry, CCTV in Operation” signs and just vault the fence.’

  It was good to hear his mum joking like this. For a while, after what she’d endured earlier in the year, he’d thought his little mum would never smile again. He should have known her resilience would bounce back. After all, she had never allowed adversity to keep her down for long before.

  He bent down and kissed her cheek. ‘Just wanted to say hi as we were passing. Need to get a move on though, Mum.’

  Corrine followed him down to the end of the path and watched with a tut as he climbed the gate again and landed awkwardly in a puddle.

  Alice whirred down the passenger window. ‘For God’s sake, Gus, we’re not having a repeat of you ruining your shoes, are we?’

  Gus grinned – this was a reference to the two pairs of shoes he’d had to bin during their last case.

  Before he could respond, Alice was shouting thorough the gate to his mum, ‘You alright, Mrs M?’

  His mother’s face lit up as she saw Alice and she waved. ‘I’m great, love. All the better for seeing you two. Come for lunch on Sunday.’

  Gus groaned. The way this case was shaping up, he didn’t think he’d be having Sunday lunch for weeks – which, on reflection, could be a good thing as his mother’s cooking was always on the overdone side. Climbing back into the car he was pleased to see Alice smiling, until he remembered he still had to broach the subject of possible consequences of Sean Kennedy’s accusations. As Alice negotiated the winding drive past Heaton Woods, he watched the reflection of sun shimmering through the last of the autumn leaves.

  When she hit the main road, he angled his body so he was half facing her. ‘Al, I know you’ve more than likely considered this, but I just wanted to be sure. You do realise the implications of that bastard’s accusations, don’t you?’

  In the unladylike way Gus was well familiar with, Alice snorted. Her knuckles whitened for a mere second as she gripped the wheel tighter before returning to their former pinkish tinge. Hearing her swallow and then clear her throat, Gus waited.

  Braking, to let some of the St Bede’s children cross the road, Alice looked at him and winked. ‘You mean that, if I can’t find a way to refute what he and Big H say, I could end up locked up for a good few years?’

  Gus sighed. ‘It won’t come to that. Nobody will believe those two over you. However, Nancy has been told that if your name hits the tabloids then you will be suspended until further notice. At the minute, they’re doing an initial investigation, but you may be asked to hand over your badge anyway in the next few days.’

  Alice gave a single nod. ‘Well then, we better get this shit cleared up pronto then, hadn’t we?’ She negotiated her way round a cyclist and drove on till they reached the Buttons’ house.

  The old Victorian semis were spaced well apart and in the Buttons’ drive stood two newish Audis. Not short of a bob or two then, was Gus’ immediate thought. Walking up the short path to the front door, he saw the blinds move a little and wondered who was so nervous about their visit they’d positioned themselves near the window. He reckoned it wouldn’t be Mr Button, at any rate.

  Alice pressed the door bell and a faint tune drifted through the double-glazed door to them. Seconds later it opened, revealing a teenage girl in a City Academy school uniform. Her hair fell in long curling strands down either side of her face, making her already long face seem even longer. Over the top of her uniform she wore a hoodie. Each of the sleeves were pulled down over her palms and were nipped in place by her curled-up fingers. Without a word, she stepped back and, as Gus stepped forward, he saw a woman lurking by what must be the living room door. He passed the girl and stretched out his hand holding this warrant card to the woman. ‘Hi, Mrs Button. I’m DI Gus McGuire, we’d like to talk to you and your daughter about Jenny Gregg’s abduction.’ He turned and studied the girl who, having closed the door, now stood behind Alice. The girl’s gaze landed on Gus and then flitted to her mother’s face before moving back to Gus again.

  ‘Is your husband in? Detective Sampson, whom you spoke to earlier, indicated that he wanted to be present during the interview.’

  Wringing her hands together, Mrs Button moved towards them. ‘Yes, hold on, I’ll call him. Why don’t you both go into the living room and sit down.’

  The room was over-warm and Gus shrugged off his fisherman’s jacket as he took in his surroundings. The cream carpet was plush. The throw, draped casually over the suite, and the cushions dotted around the room, matched the foliage on the curtains. Four canvases depicting a vase of flowers cut in four, were positioned with mathematical precision on the main wall. The absence of a TV was the first thing that struck Gus. Then he remembered, from his research, that the use of TV was frowned upon by the Button’s church. A bible was laid open on a stand next to the couch, as if someone had just been studying it. On the other walls, photographs of Mrs Button and Ali with a bald man who must be Mr Button were displayed. All of them were recent and ranged from a trip to what, judging by the large cross in the background and the Family Church of Christ slogan on their T-shirts, was a Christian convention, to a zoo and to a theme park. All quite normal family snaps, if you ignored the fact they were all dated no more than a year previously.

  As Mr Button enter
ed, Gus turned round and introduced himself and Alice again. Where his wife was slender and dressed in casual clothes, Mr Button was tall and broad, in a suit and shirt that stretched over his protruding beer belly. He had the bluff manner of a busy man, ‘Sit down, sit down,’ and he waved his arms, ushering them to sit. He slapped an arm round his daughter’s shoulders and Gus saw her jump and then smile as her father guided her over to sit on the couch beside him. Ali, despite seeming to be a little cowed in the over-exuberant presence of her adoptive father, seemed happy to sit beside him. Gus remembered that his own father’s large frame had often been a sanctuary… a protection from everything. A place of safety. He wondered if Ali felt the same way.

  Seeing that Mrs Button still stood by the door, Gus spoke to her. ‘Please join us, Mrs Button. The sooner we start, the sooner we’ll be out of your hair.’

  When she sat on the other side of her husband, Gus laid his coat over the back of one of the comfy chairs opposite the Buttons and sat down. Alice, who had shrugged her coat off so it draped down onto the carpet, sat on the matching chair like a little elf, with her feet barely touching the floor. Leaning forward, resting both arms across his knees, Gus began to speak. ‘As you know, your friend Jenny was abducted on Monday night, kept overnight and then was found in the early hours of Tuesday morning. We need to know everything there is to know about what happened before she went missing. So, we need to ask you some questions, Ali. Is that okay?’

  Ali glanced at her dad and he put his arm round her shoulder and squeezed. All the time his eyes never left Gus’ face. Taking it as a silent warning not to upset his daughter, Gus inclined his head in acknowledgement.

  ‘So, on Monday night Jenny and you came home from school and had tea at your house, is that right?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Then what?’ asked Gus, ‘What did you do after tea?’

  Ali looked once more to her dad for reassurance and then began to speak, her gaze never once leaving Gus’ face as she replied. ‘It was The Prayer Chair Meeting on Monday night. That’s why Jenny came to ours. After tea we did a bit of homework and then my dad dropped us off up at the church for the meeting.’

  Gus handed Ali a piece of paper with a list of names on. ‘Were there any other people at The Prayer Chair Meeting or is this list accurate?’

  Ali read the names, thought for a minute and then shook her head. ‘That’s everyone. The only one missing was–’ she stopped and her gaze fell to her knees.

  ‘The only one missing was… who?’ asked Gus his voice soft.

  Ali, took a deep breath and glanced up at her dad. Then, looking down at her knees, she said, ‘Simon. Simon was the only one absent on Monday.’

  Interesting! ‘Okay, so what did you guys talk about at the meeting?’

  Ali looked at her dad. ‘We’re not supposed to say, Dad.’

  Mr Button ruffled her hair. ‘I think you need to tell the police, love. They’re not going to go telling anybody.’

  Gus glanced over at Alice and saw that she had tensed. No doubt she was remembering her own experiences of The Prayer Chair. He turned back to Ali. ‘I think it’ll be okay to tell us.’

  Sighing, Ali started to pick at the sleeve of her hoodie with the index finger and thumb of her other hand, ‘We were just planning what we’d do on Saturday. We were taking The Prayer Chair to City Park on Saturday and we wanted to do it good. Minister Evans says there’s plenty of sinners in Bradford that need to be redeemed.’

  Gus cast a glance at Alice to see if she too had noted Ali’s choice of words. A tightening of her lips told him she had.

  ‘We decided that I would be the sinner on Saturday and Alex and Jenny would be the folk fishers.’

  ‘Folk fishers?’

  Ali grinned. ‘It’s a play on the fishers of men – get it “folk fishers” not as sexist, ’cos we don’t just fish men.’

  ‘Okay, so what did you have to do if you were a sinner?’

  ‘I’d mingle in the crowd whilst Reverend Evans preached and then when he started asking for volunteers, I’d be “fished”. I’d go sit on the chair and recite my sins and everyone would pray for me and then I’d stand up and say how I felt lighter now I was sin free.’

  ‘What sins would you recite?’

  Ali shrugged. ‘Oh, it was all pretend. Reverend Evans gives us a script and we memorise it. We all take turns doing it every week.’

  From her chair, Alice piped up, ‘Don’t you believe in the Ten Commandments at your church – you know the bit about not lying… or was that Proverbs?’

  Gus’ heart fell. He knew where she was going with this. He’d had the same thought himself just seconds before, but he didn’t want her to upset the equilibrium. He glared at her, and realised she was looking not at Ali but at the parents, both of whom had the grace to look a little embarrassed by the question. Gus cleared his throat and continued, ‘Was everything normal on Monday night?’

  Ali continued picking at her sleeve, her head bowed as she mumbled a few words that Gus didn’t quite hear.

  ‘Sorry, Ali, could you repeat that?’

  ‘Said, yeah, everything was fine.’

  Gus pursed his lips, ‘Okay then. If everything was fine, why did Jenny go off on her own and not go back to yours, like she was supposed to?’

  Ali’s head jerked up, her eyes wide. ‘Don’t know. She said she wanted to go home on her own. That’s all I know.’

  Mrs Button jumped to her feet and moved round to kneel before her daughter. ‘There, there, Ali, calm down. Don’t be getting upset. Jenny’s fine now. Isn’t she, Inspector McGuire?’

  ‘Physically, she’s fine. As for the other, well, time will tell.’ He waited till Mrs Button had squashed in on the other side of Ali, before continuing, ‘Was there anybody hanging about on Monday night? Anyone who might have taken Jenny?’

  Ali shook her head.

  ‘Do you know anyone she’d fallen out with?’

  If Gus hadn’t been watching her closely, he may have missed the flicker of her eyelids and the quick intake of breath. It was time to ask one of his big questions. Keeping his tone neutral, he brushed a bit of fluff of his sleeve. ‘So, you know Simon Proctor well, do you Ali?’

  Ali’s head fell forward again, her hair falling over her face making it difficult to see her expression. Next to her, Mrs Button tensed and stopped stroking her daughter’s hair for a mere second, before recommencing the soothing motion.

  ‘Yes, Simon was in The Prayer Chair team.’

  ‘…and you, Mrs Button, did you know Simon?’

  Mrs Button shook her head, ‘No, no, I don’t…’

  ‘Grace, isn’t that the boy who’s disappeared? Didn’t he come to tea one night?’

  Ali’s head jerked up and Mrs Button’s mouth trembled. ‘I… I can’t remember. Can you, Ali? If he did, it must have been a long time ago.’

  Ali swallowed hard. ‘Yeah, long time ago.’

  Gus stood up and retrieved his coat from the chair back and waited for Alice to get her coat back on. ‘I think we’re about done here.’ He smiled at the parents and stepped towards the door. All three Buttons jumped to their feet, eager, it seemed, to see him off the premises. He moved into the hallway before turning towards them. ‘Were you at Simon Proctor’s party on Saturday night, Ali?’

  Before the girl had a chance to respond, Mr Button released a guttural guffaw. ‘Course she wasn’t. She was at a sleepover. My girl would never attend one of those sorts of dos.’

  Gus had seen Ali’s expression and it belied her father’s words. He trained his eyes on her until she met his gaze and then he gave a slight nod. Ali brushed past them mumbling something about catching a bus to school. Mr Button peeled off into the kitchen, leaving Mrs Button to lead them to the door. Gus stepped through the door and turned to face her. In a low voice, he said, ‘You and I both know you haven’t been entirely truthful about Simon Proctor. I suggest you head down to the station with Ali after school. It’ll be better for bo
th of you, if you come in voluntarily.’

  Mrs Button, with a glance behind her, gave a single nod. ‘Okay, we’ll come then.’ And she shut the door in their faces.

  Once they were back in the car, Alice poked Gus in the arm ‘What’s with the bloody Colombo moves in there?’

  Gus laughed, pleased that although she may be down, Alice still had a sense of humour. ‘That hurt, Al.’

  ‘Wuss.’

  ‘Tell me about it,’ he said rubbing his arm. ‘What you reckon to the Buttons, then?’

  ‘Well, the only one who was telling us the whole truth was Mr Button. Both the female Buttons have secrets and they know we’re onto them.’

  ‘What I found interesting, though, was that I sensed Ali Button was holding something back about Monday night as well as about Simon Proctor. Did you see the way she grew upset and couldn’t meet my eye? That girl knows something about Monday night and Jenny Gregg’s disappearance. When they come in this afternoon, she better be prepared to tell us everything.’

  Alice engaged the clutch and swung onto the road. ‘As for that fucking Prayer Chair nonsense – seems bloody duplicitous to me getting young girls to confess to sins publicly to win people into their flock. Very dubious indeed.’

  67

  10:15 The Fort

  Knowles was pacing up and down outside The Fort, cigarette in one hand. Every so often he raised it to his lips and took a couple of frantic puffs. He couldn’t believe his luck. The bastards had found the girl already. He thought he’d managed to roll her right down to the bottom of Cottingley Ridge where, by rights, she shouldn’t have been found till next summer. Just his fucking luck.

  He slipped another cigarette from his packet and used the butt of his old cig to light the new one. Good job he’d had the presence of mind to fuck up the forensics. He’d be in a right pickle if he hadn’t – at the last minute – thought to be doubly careful. He’d thought it was a sure bet that she’d lie undiscovered till the spring at the earliest. His chest was heavy. Like he was about to go down with a chest infection or something. Even the smoke burned as he inhaled it. Fuck, if that bottle of bleach hadn’t escaped from the shopping bags last week and been rolling about in his car since then, he’d be in a real mess. There was no way they could link the bleach to him. How the hell could they? How many thousands of bottles of bleach get sold in Bradford alone in a month? No, there was nothing to link him to the bleach.