Under a Dark Cloud

by Louisa Scarr

  Craig’s right.

  In terms of murder charges, this is one of the most open-and-shut cases he’s seen.

  9

  When they get back to the police station, Josh seems to adapt well to his new responsibilities as acting DS.

  ‘Freya, if you could follow up on the serial number on the freezer,’ he says, passing her the piece of paper. ‘Mina—’

  ‘Is going to pump,’ Mina interrupts, pointing to her boobs. Josh’s face goes red.

  ‘And I’m going to get some lunch,’ Freya adds, walking away before her acting boss can make his objections.

  Freya heads up to the top floor to buy a sandwich, then back down to the parking level to sit in her car. She has no wish to eat in the canteen, with all the bustle and people wanting to make conversation. In the past, she enjoyed her lunch breaks. Sitting with the other DCs, laughing along with the banter, but for a while now she hasn’t felt a part of it. She knows the moment it stopped: when Jonathan died. When the murder of the man she loved dragged her into a world of deception and hate. And guilt.

  It’s something she can’t talk about, and something her colleagues wouldn’t understand. Her conscientious, hard-working teammates, with their 2.4 children and long-suffering spouses.

  Only Robin knows the full extent of what she’s been through. And without him here today, she feels strange. For eight months he’s been her buffer. They never speak about the events of last October, but she knows implicitly that he has her back. A connection that goes beyond colleagues, or DS and DC.

  Sitting in her car, she checks her phone. No response from Robin. She presses his number and listens to it ring, then cut to voicemail.

  This is Robin Butler. Sorry I can’t take your call, please leave a message.

  She listens to the recording, enjoying hearing his voice. The hesitation, the uncomfortable edge she’s come to know so well. He was there on that dark Friday night last year. He’s been through loss himself – the death of his parents, followed by the tragic killing of his sister and her children at the hands of a drunk driver. So why doesn’t she tell him how she’s feeling?

  The dark, lonely nights staring at the ceiling. Scratchy eyes in the morning, her body weary and aching. She hasn’t slept well for a while now. She can’t concentrate, the guilt overwhelming her.

  She alone made the fateful decision that night. Someone died because of something she did. That knowledge won’t go away. The self-hatred, the fear that someone will realise. She works every hour she can get her hands on just so she doesn’t have to sit in an empty house.

  Nobody understands that better than Robin.

  But now he isn’t here. Caught up in everything with Finn.

  She picks up her phone and googles Finn Mason and Dr Simon Sharp but there aren’t any more updates following the one that Mina found in the morning. She finishes her sandwich and throws the wrapper in the footwell, leaning her head back as tiredness overtakes her. She’ll just close her eyes for a moment, get a coffee on the way back in…

  Her phone rings, jerking her out of her doze. She glances at the clock. Shit! She’s been asleep for an hour.

  ‘Where are you, Freya?’ Josh shouts down the phone.

  ‘Nice, Josh, nice,’ she mumbles in response. ‘Heading back now, no need to yell.’

  Freya hangs up as Josh starts talking again. She sighs. Smith has a few things to learn about motivational leadership, that’s for sure.

  * * *

  Freya has been on hold for twenty minutes, waiting to get through to the customer helpline for Hotpoint. Having the serial number is one thing, but speaking to someone about it is another.

  She rests the phone against her ear and leans over to see what Mina’s doing next to her. She has a black-and-white video file open on her screen and is watching it, her eyes half glazed.

  ‘Anything?’ she asks.

  Mina sighs. ‘Nothing that stands out.’ She points to the screen. ‘This is the CCTV from Riverside, and it’s well off the beaten path. You wouldn’t need to pass here to get to the freezer, so it’s unlikely there’ll be anything useful.’ She picks up her coffee cup and takes the last swig. ‘This storm was a blazer last night, though, that’s for sure. Look at it.’

  Freya squints at the screen. Trees blow wildly in the wind and the rain pours, forming lakes where the road should have been.

  ‘Who would want to be out in that?’ Freya comments.

  Mina nods, then sighs, throwing her head back in barely disguised boredom. She picks up her empty cup. ‘Want another?’ she asks.

  Freya nods.

  ‘Please,’ she says, then turns her attention quickly back to her phone. ‘Yes, hello, hello,’ she says, as the call is answered. ‘This is DC West, from Hampshire Police. We need information on a chest freezer.’

  The woman at the other end of the phone doesn’t seem too worried about data protection and gives the information willingly. Luckily, eleven years ago the new owner had been conscientious enough to register its warranty. Freya takes the number and dials. The phone is answered on the tenth ring by a woman, her voice reedy and frail.

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘This is DC Freya West, calling from Hampshire Police. Is this Vera Woodley?’

  ‘Are you one of those cold-callers I’ve been told not to talk to?’

  ‘No, no, I’m phoning from Hampshire Police. I need to talk to you about your freezer.’

  ‘My freezer?’

  ‘Yes, a Hotpoint chest freezer. That you bought in 2010?’

  Freya is almost shouting down the phone. Mina places a cup of coffee in front of her and looks on with interest.

  ‘Don’t have a chest freezer, sorry, love.’

  ‘But you bought one in 2010? Do you remember that?’

  ‘Don’t have a chest freezer any more. Are you trying to sell me one?’

  ‘No, I’m phoning from Hampshire Police.’ Freya rolls her eyes at Mina, who laughs quietly.

  ‘I don’t want another freezer, sorry,’ the old woman says and hangs up.

  Freya puts the phone down and gives an exasperated sigh.

  ‘Looks like you’re going to have to go down there,’ Josh says, appearing behind them.

  ‘I’m not sure she’ll be any better face to face.’

  ‘Well, it will have to wait,’ Josh says. ‘Connor Vardy has arrived at Riverside. And he’s waiting to talk to you two.’

  10

  Freya and Mina arrive at the railway station and stand on the platform; in the distance a small narrow-gauge train chugs its way round the track.

  ‘We’ve brought the kids here a few times,’ Mina says, watching the plume of grey smoke. ‘I’m not going to see it as such an innocent place again.’

  Freya shakes her head. ‘I’m not sure I’m going to be able to look at my freezer in the same way,’ she agrees. ‘I have that exact same one, you know.’

  ‘Why do you own a chest freezer?’

  ‘Mum thought it would be useful for storing leftovers,’ Freya says. ‘As a lonely single girl, and all that.’

  ‘Yeah, for all that cooking you do,’ Mina replies with a snort.

  Freya laughs, then puts an arm round her friend. ‘I’m glad you’re back,’ she says, and Mina returns her grin. ‘It wasn’t the same without you.’

  ‘I missed you, too, honey.’

  Freya hesitates, an apology on the tip of her tongue for not visiting Mina more over this past year. But how could she explain? I had a boyfriend. But he was married. And then he died. Freya can predict the questions, but she doesn’t feel ready to offer the truth; and Mina would see right through a lie.

  The small train wheezes its way to the platform, distracting Freya from her dilemma. They both step forward as Barry Headley approaches with Connor, guiding him with a stern hand on his back. Connor Vardy is skinny and tall, and looks years younger than eighteen, with short, cropped hair and a perpetual stoop. He’s less than keen, hanging back as the four of them walk towards the
café again.

  ‘Connor?’ Mina begins. ‘I’m Detective Constable Desai, and this is DC West…’

  ‘I don’t know anything about that freezer,’ Connor says quickly. He has a black smudge on his cheek that looks like a bruise; Freya wonders where it came from.

  ‘You’re not in trouble, Connor,’ Mina adds gently. ‘But Barry says you might know something about the group of teenagers that hang around at the bus stop.’

  ‘I don’t know them.’ So there are kids that hang around there, Freya thinks. The four of them sit down at the same table as before. She gets the feeling that if the old guy weren’t there, Connor would make a run for it.

  ‘That’s fine, Connor, just tell us what you know.’

  Mina takes charge of the interview, her gentle manner better suited to calming the twitching lad. Freya admires how she doesn’t talk down to him, but lets him guide the conversation, nodding and smiling in encouragement. She may have been off for nearly a year, but the patience and grace she has honed since becoming a mother put her in a perfect position for getting a witness statement from the boy.

  Freya realises that Josh has stayed away for that exact same reason.

  ‘You don’t want some tall, scary policeman dominating the conversation,’ he said, while Freya suspected he fancied putting his feet up for an hour, drinking tea.

  After a while, Connor relaxes into the conversation, taking a sip from his can of Coke. This time, Freya and Mina have agreed to mugs of strong coffee, and Freya cups hers in her hands, as if extracting the caffeine through the chipped ceramic.

  Connor attends Eastleigh College down the road. He tells them about his apprenticeship attached to a local company, and how in his time off he comes to tinker with the engines.

  ‘He does more than tinker,’ Headley adds with pride. ‘He fixed that engine on the track. Got her up and running in weeks.’

  Connor looks embarrassed. ‘The locos make sense to me – the way they run. But they take the piss, say I’m playing with my toy trains.’

  ‘And these are the boys that hang around at the bus shelter, right?’ Mina asks.

  ‘Yes. I don’t talk to them.’

  ‘But they talk to you?’

  Connor nods. ‘I walk that way home. They want me to buy them alcohol. They’ve been banned from all the local offies and pubs.’

  ‘But you don’t,’ Headley says, and Connor mumbles ‘No,’ staring at his hands.

  You bloody do, Freya thinks, but she lets it go.

  ‘And when did you notice the freezer?’

  ‘It was definitely there Monday morning.’

  ‘Did you touch it? Look inside?’

  ‘No, I assumed it was rubbish. Didn’t pay it much attention.’

  ‘What time did you leave here last night?’ Mina asks.

  ‘Just after dark. About nineish.’

  ‘And did you see the other boys?’

  Connor nods again. ‘They were at the bus stop. I think they do football at the sports ground.’

  ‘But you didn’t speak to them?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘And you didn’t see them by the freezer?’

  Connor shakes his head.

  ‘And do you know their names?’ Mina pushes.

  Connor puts a grease-stained finger in his mouth and chews on the nail.

  ‘Connor, we won’t say the information came from you.’

  ‘They don’t know anything about the freezer.’

  ‘We just need to ask, Connor. It’s important we find out what happened to that man,’ Mina adds gently. ‘It could be someone’s grandad or father. And they deserve to know.’

  At that comment Connor looks up sharply, meeting Mina’s gaze. She pushes her notebook across to him. He looks at it for a second, then picks up the pen. ‘I don’t know them,’ he says again, scribbling in an almost unintelligible handwriting.

  ‘That’s fine, whatever you can give us.’

  He pushes the notebook back then looks to Headley, who nods. He scuttles out of the café.

  ‘He’s a good kid,’ the old man says. ‘Just had a shit start in life.’

  ‘He obviously looks up to you,’ Mina replies.

  ‘I do what I can.’

  * * *

  Mina calls Josh as they walk back to the car, and Freya tries Robin again. This time he answers.

  ‘How are you doing? What’s going on?’ she asks him.

  There’s a long pause. ‘It’s a fucking mess,’ he says at last. Freya can hear the stress in his voice. ‘Finn’s on his way to the hospital now, but he keeps on saying it was his fault.’

  ‘His fault what? That Simon Sharp’s dead?’

  ‘What else?’ Robin sighs. Freya can imagine him standing there, gaze fixed on the ground, phone clamped to his ear with one hand, running the other through his short greying hair. ‘The van’s a bloodbath, Freya,’ he says quietly. ‘It’s everywhere. All up the walls, all over Finn.’

  Freya hesitates. ‘Do you think he did it?’

  Another pause. ‘I can’t imagine…’ His voice breaks.

  ‘Do you want me to come up there?’ she asks. ‘I can help you look into it?’

  ‘No, no, it’s fine,’ Robin says quickly. ‘They’re barely letting me near it. Anyway, what have they got you working on?’

  ‘Dead body in a freezer,’ she says.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Found this morning. Bloke tipped over a dumped freezer, corpse fell out.’

  There’s another silence, then she can hear Robin laughing. She smiles, the noise welcome after her worry for her boss.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he says. ‘Just after the day I’ve had. My imagination went a bit bonkers.’ He snorts again then manages to contain his laughter. ‘Who’s in charge?’

  ‘Josh Smith.’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘The new DC? The one from Newcastle?’

  ‘The one who sounds like he’s in Byker Grove?’ Robin starts laughing again. ‘Oh, good grief.’

  Mina comes up and stands next to her. ‘Is that Butler?’ she mouths and Freya nods.

  ‘Mina is here, she says hello.’

  ‘Oh shit, it’s her first day,’ Robin replies. ‘Say hello from me.’

  ‘He says hello,’ she directs to Mina. ‘When will you be back?’ Freya asks.

  ‘I don’t know. I’ve got to find somewhere to stay tonight, then go and see Finn in the hospital.’ He pauses. ‘You okay?’

  ‘Yes, of course,’ she says, but her voice sounds squeaky and forced. ‘I hope Finn’s all right.’

  ‘Yeah, me too. I’ll call you later,’ he finishes, then hangs up.

  ‘Josh has confirmed Connor’s story,’ Mina says as they get in the car. ‘CCTV from Riverside has him leaving at 21:04.’

  ‘That’s something, at least.’

  Freya puts the phone in her pocket and notices Mina staring at her.

  ‘You two always speak when Robin’s on holiday?’ Mina asks.

  ‘I was worried about Finn.’

  ‘Hmm,’ Mina replies, but doesn’t say any more on the subject.

  * * *

  Josh wants them to check in with the uniforms doing the house-to-house, so they pull into the main railway station car park on the way back – the one with full-sized trains. Two uniforms are there, half-heartedly canvassing staff.

  Freya recognises one from her days on Response and Patrol.

  ‘West,’ PC Uberti nods to her. ‘Look at you, all out of uniform. Getting us to do your grunt work.’

  Freya ignores the jibe. ‘Anything of interest?’ she asks, and Uberti shakes his head. ‘Nothing. The place was deserted last night; most went home early because none of the trains were running in the storm. You might want to speak to the station manager, though. When we showed him a picture of the vic, he got a bit cagey. Perhaps a prodding from you highly trained detectives might shake something loose.’

  Freya gives him a sarcastic look in return, then catches Mina’s eye and
indicates the main office. They go over and knock at the door.

  It is opened by a short man in an ill-fitting polyester suit. His name badge tells Freya that he’s called Norman, and from the look on his face, he is not pleased to see them.

  ‘I’ve spoken to your colleagues,’ he says, when Freya and Mina show their ID. ‘This bloody storm has caused a nightmare on the rails. I have a hundred things to do.’

  ‘They mentioned you saw our victim last night?’

  ‘Briefly. He was always hanging around. Homeless. Begging, and suchlike. Leaving his sleeping bag and shit in the doorway. Threw it out three days ago.’

  ‘You threw away his belongings?’ Mina says.

  ‘He’d left it there, stinking up the place, so yes, I binned it.’

  Mina exchanges a look with Freya. ‘And do you know anything about him? His name, for instance?’

  ‘We’ve never chatted,’ Norman says, a disgusted look on his face. ‘Don’t you keep records on this stuff? I called the police about a fortnight ago. You guys moved him on.’

  ‘We’ll follow it up,’ Mina replies, coldly. ‘Can we see your CCTV?’

  Norman sighs and gestures for them to come inside the office. He points them towards an ancient monitor and keyboard, images playing out in front of them, flicking from one scene to the next every few seconds. He clicks quickly, and the screen changes to a directory of files.

  ‘Knock yourself out,’ he says. ‘Now, if you would be so kind…’

  He leaves, the door slamming loudly behind him.

  ‘What a charmer,’ Mina says, as her phone starts ringing. She holds it up so Freya can see the screen. Josh again. Mina rolls her eyes and answers it.

  As Mina speaks to Josh, Freya cracks on, looking through the various CCTV files. There are three cameras – one each for the two platforms, and one showing the outside, looking away from the station building. She selects yesterday’s date, then scrolls through the video, the timestamp clicking round as the day progresses.