So, if he told her not to go home, maybe she shouldn’t. These things that were happening. This horrible thing that had happened with Mam. The police, Gary a nervous wreck and all he could think was he had to talk to Eddie. So, maybe she should do as she was told. She turned the corner. She’d go up to Picton Road. There’d be a shop there and she could get some stuff. She had the changing bag, always there hanging from the handle of the pram. There’d be nappies in it and a change of clothes for Jakey. She was still breastfeeding him so that wasn’t a problem. She needed another bottle of water for herself. She could do with something to eat as well. As she walked it began to dawn on her that she was doing as she had been told. As usual. As she always had.
She wasn’t going back to the house.
But where the hell was she going?
The bus arrived as she drew level at the stop, and she took it as a sign. It was the seventy-nine into the city. She’d go there. There would be shops open still and she could get something to eat. Maybe she could stay somewhere there in Liverpool. That didn’t feel right though. The only hotels she could think of were big ones, expensive ones. She didn’t know how to behave in those places and she felt scruffy and grubby. She needed somewhere small like they had at seaside places. Okay. So, she’d go to Lime Street. From there she could get a train to Blackpool or Southport. She’d been to Southport a lot when she was a bit younger. They’d loved it for the clubs and the funfair – that was until she’d fallen pregnant. That’d put a stop to all the fun. Anyway, there were sure to be little places there, bed and breakfast, guest houses. She could just walk into those places and ask if they had rooms. She’d get the first train that came in, either Blackpool or Southport.
Jakey started fussing on the bus and she had no choice but to feed him. He was overdue, poor little bugger. An old woman glared at her and tutted, but Molly just stared her down. She turned her shoulder in a bit and pulled her skimpy jacket over her, but it was all she could do. The woman got up and turned to her. “Disgusting. When I had mine, we stayed at home, we didn’t go showing our tits to all and sundry. You’ve no shame. Poor little lamb, what is he going to grow up like?”
Molly was determined not to show she was upset so she dipped her head and watched Jakey whose eyes were closing with the movement of the bus lulling him to sleep.
“Leave her alone, yeah. She’s got to feed her baby. If you don’t like it, don’t look you old cow. Mind your own business.” This from a young woman sitting a few seats away.
“Oh yes, you’d think. Where you come from, they walk round all day naked.”
“What, Kirkby? They bloody don’t.” With that the black woman burst into loud laughter and a couple of the other passengers grinned at her.
The old woman knew she was beaten and with a final glare she thumped down the bus.
“You alright, love?” the woman asked Molly.
“Yes, thanks. I can’t help it. He’s hungry. I didn’t mean to be out this long.”
“Hey, don’t worry about it. She was a cranky old biddy. He’s lovely anyway. What’s his name?”
“Jacob. Thanks.”
“Oh, go on – I didn’t do nothing.”
Molly was glad to see the other woman reach over and press the button to tell the driver to stop. She was going to cry if she carried on being nice to her. She wanted a good cry. She wanted to be at home, in her room with Jakey in his cot, and she wanted to lie down and cry it all out.
Chapter 16
“This girl, what’s her name?” DCI Richard Cross made a perfunctory rustle of the papers in front of him.
“Molly McCardle, sir,” Jordan told him.
“Right, McCardle. She’s not missing. She’s a grown woman and she’s gone off in a bad mood. There’s no justification at all to start some sort of hunt for her.”
“But, sir, I really do believe there is a risk to her wellbeing.”
“No. You’re overreacting, Detective Inspector. She’ll come back when she’s got over her strop. If we started some sort of furore every time a woman got herself in a bit of a tizzy we’d never do anything else. No. No justification at all for an alert.”
“I’m sorry, sir, and with respect, I disagree. Her mother has been murdered and she is fragile and vulnerable.”
“No. High maintenance, that’s what they are nowadays. We didn’t have all this when my wife had our children. We just got on with it. No. If she hasn’t turned up after twenty-four hours you can come back and see me but in the meantime my decision is made.”
There was no more he could do, and Jordan left the office without another word. The corridor outside was empty and he allowed himself a single expletive as soon as he was out of earshot of the secretary who was packing up to leave.
Terry and Rosalind were still in the incident room.
“Okay, no luck with getting some help looking for Molly. I’m going to go over there and see if I can’t help to find her. It’s up to you whether you want to come as well. It won’t be overtime. It’s been decided to wait before we do anything official. Have you tried her phone again, Terry?”
“I did and it’s going straight to voice mail. I reckon she’s turned it off.”
Jordan knew they could pick up on the hidden message about his run-in with the DCI and he wasn’t surprised when both detective constables followed him out to the car park. “We’ll start at the building site. She might have been drawn back there.”
She wasn’t there. A quick word with the constable kicking his heels at the entrance to the site confirmed she hadn’t been seen.
“Any idea how long we’re going to have to keep covering this site, sir?” the constable asked Jordan.
“Shouldn’t be much longer. Once we’re sure the whole scene has been searched that’ll be it, I guess. It’s up to the crime scene manager. Are people still bringing flowers and candles?”
“No, not really. A few people stop on the way past, take a picture or read the little cards but there’s not much interest anymore. It’s all starting to look a bit tatty to be honest. That’s the problem with these ‘cellotaphs’ as they call ’em. But in the end, somebody has it all to clear away. We’ll have to move it soon, I reckon. Only one today. Someone left that.” The constable pointed to a bunch of long-stemmed roses.
Jordan crouched down to read the card that had been tied to the flower stems. He drew out his phone and took a picture.
“Did you not see who left it?”
“No, it was early, before I came on.”
“Okay, thanks. Make sure when it is cleared away that they keep the little cards and notes. Just until we make sure there’s nothing there that might help us. Anyway, tonight, keep your eye out for this young woman, would you, and if she does come here, ask her to call her brother or me as soon as. Take my card so you can give her my number. Don’t upset her.”
As they moved away, he showed the image on his phone screen to the others. It was a small cream card with a picture of a crucifix and a rose in the corner. There was just one word – ‘sorry’ with a letter X below it.
“What do you reckon?” Rosalind said.
“Could just be someone who doesn’t want to be too obvious, I suppose. Someone who doesn’t actually know the family but wanted to pay their respects. It’s an expensive bunch of flowers though. Not like the ones from the local garage, you know what I mean?”
Jordan slipped the phone into his pocket. “Okay, we’ll split up, I’m going to just walk up and down the streets, have a look down the back alleys. It’s more casual than I would have hoped but she’s on foot so she can’t have gone far. Her brother might be still out here searching as well. Let me know if you see him.”
“What about the buses though?” Rosalind Searle said. “There are a couple of stops round here. Can we request footage of the on-board CCTV?”
Jordan was torn. It made sense to him and yet it would involve staff to view the video and the request would need to be made officially. If DCI Cross became aware,
then Jordan would be on the carpet and the insubordination would be undeniable. His gut reaction was pretty much sod Cross but it could backfire hugely and see him suspended.
“It’s a good idea, Ros. I’ll take it to DCI Cross first thing in the morning if we still haven’t found her. For now, let’s just hope she’s still around here. Tell you what, though, if you see any houses with private security cameras it wouldn’t hurt to ask for a look. Mind, I don’t imagine there’ll be many. It’s not really Kensington and Chelsea round here, is it?”
“Wouldn’t know, boss. Never been there.” This from Terry who was grinning at the other two. “We’re not all from that London.”
Jordan quirked an eyebrow at the teasing. “Okay, keep in touch, we’ll give it an hour or two and then we’ll go to that pub we passed, and I’ll buy you both a curry.”
“Make mine fish and chips and you’re on,” Ros said.
Chapter 17
Gary had walked the streets for more than two hours. Surely, Molly couldn’t still be out pushing her pram along the pavement. He had asked Sandra to let him know immediately if she came home but there had been nothing.
He was becoming really scared now. All these years they had spent shielding her, hiding stuff from her that Dada had said was too hard for her to deal with. ‘I want just one of my kids to grow up without the fear,’ he had said. Gary remembered as if was yesterday. The tear that had trickled down his cheek and the way Mam had put her arm around his shoulders.
Perhaps it had all been a mistake. Perhaps Molly, like the rest of them, should have known about the hidden horror. Okay, it was probably why Eddie had left, they knew it had shortened Dada’s life and there was no doubt in his mind it was the reason for what had happened to Mam. But Molly, she had no clue. Had that put her in danger? Okay, she was street-smart the way they all were. They all knew better than to have their phones on show and wear jewellery too ostentatiously – it was all just part of living in a city. But did she listen for the footsteps on a dark street the way he did? Did she check up and down the back jigger before she put the bins out and lift the net curtains to peer outside several times a day, just in case?
No.
He felt the fear run up and down his spine. If something had happened to Molly, to Molly and little Jakey, how would they ever live with themselves?
Perhaps Sandra was right, and it was time to tell the police. After all these years they could bring everything out in the open. Maybe that would make it go away. Now Dada and Mam were both gone, perhaps the rest of them could enjoy some sort of peace.
But first he had to find Molly. Nothing could happen until he had his sister and his nephew home. So, he trudged on, around and around the warren of streets with his collar pulled up against the chill and his hands thrust deep in his pockets.
A group of lads gathered in the doorway of the Wellie pub in Picton Road called out to him. “Hey, Gazza, ya’alright, la?”
“Hiya, Stano. Hey you haven’t seen our Molls, have you?”
“Yeah. About an hour ago. She was up near the tattoo place. She’s got her figure back, hasn’t she? Looking lush. Had the sprog with her, but she didn’t let on.”
“Thanks. See ya.” He trudged on. Where the hell had she gone and why had she turned her phone off? He was scared and shocked and felt panic building. He hated this. He hated everything about his life and now Mam had gone he was calling it a day. He was going to do what their Eddie had done and bugger off. Go somewhere he could sit in the sun and drink till the early hours and not have to look behind him in the dark.
He speed-dialled Eddie. He was the oldest. It was his job to sort this. They all had to get together and decide what to do, but Eddie had to come over and be a part of it. He couldn’t swerve his responsibilities anymore.
The phone went straight to voice mail. Gary cursed, loudly, and he kicked out at an empty drink can lying on the pavement. It flew across the road and hit the rear window of a passing car.
“Sorry! Sorry, mate,” he yelled.
But the car pulled in at the kerb the front doors sprang open and two blokes shot out. They were big and burly and there were two of them. Gary was small and wiry and tired, he knew he’d be no match for them in a fist fight, and he’d just kicked a can at their car. Every bloody thing that could go wrong was going wrong and he was sick of the lot of it.
He turned and shot down a side street, over a brick wall into a small back yard. He vaulted over the next wall using a plastic bin as a launch pad and over the next. There was a narrow alley between the houses, he sprinted along it, splashing gritty water up his jeans and into his trainers. He skidded into their own road and glanced back, there was no-one around. He dragged out his key and let himself in through the front door. There was no pram. No short jacket hanging on the newel post. No sign of his sister and now he couldn’t go back out there until he’d given the car driver time to give up and drive away. He lowered himself to the bottom steps, hid his head in his hands and tried to block it all out. He hated his life, and he hated Dada.
Chapter 18
Jordan stood at the bar ordering drinks, a pint of lager for Terry, red wine for Ros and a Talisker for himself. He wouldn’t normally have drunk spirits so early in the evening, but he was cold after the trail around the darkening streets and he was frustrated and worried about Molly McCardle. He was convinced they should have patrols out looking for the young woman. They should have put an appeal out on the evening news asking her to get in touch and there should be someone at the house supporting the family and on hand in case she came home.
Gary and Sandra had refused to have a family liaison officer staying with them and they couldn’t be forced. They had promised to call him if Molly came back but he wasn’t convinced they would stick to their word. There was the baby as well. It was cold now and there was rain in the air, a young baby shouldn’t be out in just a little buggy. Although there was definitely something off about the whole set-up, Molly had seemed to be a caring and loving mother. What would persuade her to have Jakey out in the cold streets now. Nothing good, it couldn’t be.
Jordan turned and looked across to the table in the corner where Gary and Ros were reading the menu. They were subdued and he had the feeling they were only there because it had been the agreement earlier. They were as puzzled and worried as he was.
He took the drinks back to the table. “Listen, I am going to get on to the bus companies, start the ball rolling with a request for the CCTV on the buses from Picton Road.”
“What about DCI Cross?” Terry asked.
“I’ll have to go and talk to him in the morning. In the meantime, when we’ve had something to eat, I’m going back to the shops. Some of them will have security cameras. They might have picked her up walking past. You guys can get off home if you like. It’s been a long day and there’ll be another one tomorrow. We still have the murder to deal with and this missing woman is a sidebar.”
“I’m free tonight,” Ros said. “I can do some if you like. We need to find her. I guess she might have had some sort of breakdown or whatever. She’s not safe to be out on her own, I don’t reckon.”
“Count me in,” Terry said.
Jordan just nodded at them. “Thanks, guys. Now what are we eating?”
“I’ll tell you what, boss. I think I’d rather get on with things. I’m happy to get back out there.” Rosalind took a big gulp of the wine and pushed the glass away from her.
Terry glanced at her and finished three quarters of his pint in two massive gulps. “Come on, let’s get on with it. Sooner we start, sooner we finish, as my old granny used to say.”
“Cool. I owe you one,” Jordan said.
“Did she really say that?” Ros was sliding her arms into her jacket and turned to look at Terry.
“What?”
“That. What you just said about starting and finishing. Only it doesn’t really make much sense. No offence to your granny, like.”
“No, I don’t think so. Di
dn’t know her much anyway.”
“Oh, okay. Bit of an odd thing to say if you ask me.” And with a grin she turned away and made for the door.
The two men watched her go for a moment and Terry shrugged and followed. Jordan reached and picked up his glass, gulped down the last of the whisky and followed the two detective constables. They had gelled really quickly, and he had the warm feeling they were a team. When he went back in the morning and spoke to the DCI, he would be grateful to feel he had their backing. Cross was wrong. Jordan didn’t know why so many of his requests were refused but it seemed to be developing into a routine. He pushed away the thought niggling at the back of his mind. Racism was a huge deal in the force and not something he could even suggest unless he had much more proof than just not getting his own way – even when he was so obviously right.
He shrugged into his coat and went back into the night.
Chapter 19
Molly was at home in the city centre. It had been her stomping ground for as long as she could remember. They used to come as a family, shopping and riding on the ferry across the water to New Brighton. Like going on holiday really. Then, when she was older, with her mates lying about their age to get drinks in the pubs, giggling in the pictures and sitting for hours in the cafes eating chips and flirting with lads.
It had changed a lot over the years, the famous old Infirmary used to stand in a warren of terraced houses. She barely remembered it. But Mam had worked there and they were always made to notice it. There was a new hospital now and the old place was some sort of private organisation. The shops changed all the time and Mam had been upset about the loss of the old names. They didn’t mean much to Molly, there were still the cheap fashion shops and the ones selling earrings and bags. Mam said the quality had gone but they’d laughed at her a bit. That was in the days when she cared about how she looked and spent money on good clothes.
Body by the Docks: detectives investigate a baffling mystery Page 6
