Bryant took the paper from his inside pocket and handed it across the office as two figures appeared in the doorway.
‘You asked to see us, Marm?’
She cringed at the term but waved them in.
The older male stepped into the room but the younger male stood in the doorway. Both were dressed from head to toe in black. Combat trousers with black T-shirts and a standard issue stab vest. Instantly they reminded Kim of the two guys from Law and Order. The older officer looked weathered but friendly. The younger male was obscenely good-looking and well sculpted beneath the black.
The older male introduced himself as Sergeant Gerry Evans and his colleague as Constable Ian Skitt.
‘Thanks for coming up, guys. Just wanted a word about Tavistock Road. That’s your area, right?’
Kim looked from one to the other. PC Skitt stood in the doorway saying nothing and looking to the floor. She was struck by the fact that there were some officers that really made the uniform look good. She looked at the paunch on Sergeant Evans. And then there were some that really didn’t.
Sergeant Evans put his hands inside his vest and rested them on his chest.
‘It’s part of our beat,’ he said, using an old-fashioned term.
‘Girls said anything to you about any new guys on the scene?’
Evans shook his head. ‘Terrible business about Kelly Rowe. Kid only wanted to take care of her little ’un.’
‘Was there any animosity out on the streets towards Kelly? Any enemies that you know of?’
He straightened and seemed to be trying to suck in his generous belly. ‘Wouldn’t have mattered with Kai Lord as her pimp: no one was gonna touch her.’
But they had, she thought to herself.
‘Okay, guys. If you do hear anything, let us know, eh?’
‘Will do, Marm,’ Evans said, heading towards the door.
Kim had a sudden thought. ‘Sergeant, does the name Lauren Goddard mean anything to you?’
Gerry Evans’s eyes rolled up and to the left. Slowly he shook his head.
‘Should it?’
‘Not sure.’
She turned, fixing Skitt with a look. ‘You?’
He shook his head and returned his gaze to the ground.
‘Is she a prostitute?’ Evans asked.
Kim shrugged. At this point she had no idea.
‘I can ask around, if you like. See if the name means anything?’
‘Yeah, if you would,’ she said.
‘Of course, you know that some girls use a—’
‘Different name out on the street. Yes, I know.’
‘Leave it with us, Marm,’ he said, as the two of them left the office.
Kim felt an unease worm under her skin. Ian Skitt had not been able to meet her gaze once.
‘Hey, Sergeant,’ she called out. Evans’s head reappeared.
‘Is he okay?’ she asked, nodding towards the door.
Evans lowered his voice. ‘He’s a bit strange, I suppose. He’s not a mixer. Keeps himself to himself but he ain’t a bad lad.’
‘Okay, thanks, Sergeant.’
‘You know,’ he said, thoughtfully, ‘there is somewhere you could try: that shelter on Pearson Street. It’s a druggie drop-in centre but a lot of the girls pop in there for a warm cuppa, handful of condoms and stuff.’
Kim knew the one he was talking about.
‘Okay, cheers,’ she said as he nodded and disappeared from view.
His younger colleague had already left.
TWENTY-FIVE
‘So, what do you think?’ Stacey asked as soon as the boss had left the room. She had taken the new boy up to introduce him to Woody and Stacey was unsure how she felt about his presence.
He shrugged. ‘Looks like one of us is fighting for their job,’ he said, seriously. ‘It’s like a scene out of Gladiator and only one of us can survive.’
Her eyes widened. ‘Kev, I ay gonna…’
‘Oh, Stace, stop being so gullible,’ he said, laughing.
In all honesty she wanted to hate the new guy. The team worked just fine without any additional help. She’d happily have covered both roles if the boss had asked but she knew he’d been instrumental in saving her life. Something she needed to address when she got the chance.
‘So, how do we find out where that bloody minibus went?’ Dawson asked, tapping his index finger on the mouse.
The previous night they had turned the car around and headed after the vehicle, but they’d been too late due to a juggernaut forcing them to stay on the trading estate as it took four attempts to negotiate the corner turn onto the main road.
‘It could have gone anywhere,’ Stacey said. ‘And if I’m honest, Kev,’ she offered quietly, ‘I’m not too sure what following it would have achieved. So far no one has done anything wrong.’
He frowned at her across the desk as Penn slid back into the room and into his seat. He threw a lazy smile in their general direction before reaching down to his right.
‘Is your gut not in overdrive at the minute?’
She shrugged as she watched Penn retrieve a set of headphones from his man-bag and put them over his ears.
‘The Robertsons would not allow us to speak to their employees yesterday,’ Dawson said.
‘Because they were under pressure to dispatch a shipment,’ she said, reasonably.
‘We return to try and speak to them later and they are bundled onto a minibus and whisked away before we get a chance.’
‘Waiting for the crime here, Kev,’ she said. ‘Firstly, no one died. There’s no murder or indication of foul play. It’s very likely an overwhelmed young mother who couldn’t cope with a newborn. Hell, we doe even know if she is Romanian. That shawl coulda been picked up at any charity shop. Could have been a gift.’
‘She’s Romanian,’ he said, quietly but definitely.
Stacey shook her head. ‘And you’re sure of this because?’
‘Where were the baby’s clothes from?’
‘Matalan,’ she answered.
‘And the coat?’
‘Primark,’ she said.
Identifying the clothing had been one of the first jobs on their list.
‘Any physical injuries noted?’
She shook her head, glancing towards Penn who had not looked their way once. She appreciated his unwillingness to try and insert himself into what they were discussing, although she suspected he couldn’t hear their voices above the music in his ears.
‘So the child was well cared for, not abused by someone on limited means,’ Dawson said.
She nodded her agreement.
‘Except the shawl doesn’t fit.’
‘Why not?’
‘This baby was loved, Stace. His mother took very good care of him. Now picture that she’s giving him up for good. In her mind she’s never going to see him again. You can’t leave a note because you don’t want to be found. So, what’s the only thing you can do?’
She got what he was trying to say. ‘Give the child something personal,’ she breathed.
He nodded. ‘That’s why I think the blanket is important,’ he said, grabbing the car keys. ‘So, let’s get out and solve this thing.’
Stacey grabbed her satchel and followed him out of the door, following Dawson’s lead and nodding towards Penn on the way out. She had almost reached the top of the stairs before she tapped Dawson on the shoulder.
‘Give me a minute, will yer, Kev? I’ll catch up.’
Dawson frowned, shrugged and headed down the stairs.
She walked back to the office and stood next to Penn’s desk.
‘Hi,’ he said, raising one eyebrow.
‘Could you…?’ she said, pointing at the headphones.
‘Sure,’ he said, taking them off and placing them on the desk.
Stacey wasn’t really sure what she wanted to say. She just knew she needed to say something. ‘Listen, about the case… your involvement… putting together the invitation and…’
<
br /> He waved away her words. ‘Just doing my job, Stacey, and pleased it all came out well and we got you back safe and sound.’
There was a bright and breezy tone to his words that belied the seriousness of the situation. She knew it had been two months but the event was still pretty monumental in her thoughts. Clearly not so much in his.
He glanced towards the headphones. ‘Are we done?’ he asked. ‘Only I need to get back…’
‘Of course,’ Stacey said, flummoxed.
Somehow she had expected a different kind of conversation between the two of them.
She shook it off and stepped out of the room. She hesitated and took three steps back. Despite his lack of emotional warmth towards her, she still didn’t want to see him in hot water with the boss.
‘Umm… Penn,’ she said.
He turned his head to face her.
‘Not sure the boss would approve of you listening to music during working hours,’ she said, not unkindly.
He shook his head. ‘No music,’ he said, handing her the headphones.
All she heard was nothing.
‘You wear silent headphones?’
He nodded, taking them from her.
‘Why?’ she asked, frowning.
He hesitated as though a memory passed through his mind but he shrugged it away. ‘Just helps me focus, is all,’ he said.
‘Okay, cool,’ Stacey said, as he put them back on and turned back to the computer.
Feeling as though she’d been dismissed, Stacey headed towards the stairs. She forced herself to remember that Penn was not a part of their team. He had his own team and they had merely borrowed him to help out. He would return to his own crew and she was unlikely to ever see him again.
She still had the feeling that there was much more to the bandana-wearing Penn than met the eye when she reached Dawson who was waiting at the bottom of the stairs.
‘Everything okay?’ he asked, as his phone rang. He frowned at the display.
‘Dawson,’ he answered, foregoing his usual greeting of ‘yo’ for people he knew.
His frown turned to surprise and then back to a frown. He mouthed the word ‘Keats’ to Stacey. The pathologist only called their boss, or Bryant at a push. But never either of them.
‘Sorry, but what does that have to do with…’ she heard him say.
His jaw slackened as he listened to the answer.
‘Got it,’ he said. ‘We’re on our way.’
‘What the… where are we…’
‘Looks like you were wrong earlier, Stace,’ he said, with a tight smile.
She waited for his explanation.
‘Looks like someone did die after all.’
TWENTY-SIX
‘Go on, try it on,’ Roxanne urged, as Ellie touched the shoulder of a denim jacket. A printed design of a butterfly decorated the back.
‘I can’t,’ Ellie said, shaking her head. Even if her money had not been taken she would not have been able to purchase the item. Her mum would have said she had two perfectly good jackets in her wardrobe. That they were two years old and tight on her upper arms would have prompted an argument about her being an ungrateful child.
‘Oh, go on,’ Roxanne said, smiling. Her own arms were laden with jeans, jumpers and a couple of pairs of boots. ‘It’s just a bit of fun. Come on, I don’t like going into the changing rooms alone and you can tell me how this lot looks.’
Ellie nodded her agreement. There was something surreal about her current situation. Shopping in Primark on a Monday morning was not something she would ever have done with her mother. All her friends had been trudging to and from school the last couple of months before exams started but Ellie couldn’t even see the point any more. It was only leading her to a future she didn’t want. By now her mother should know that she had not turned up for school and Ellie hoped she now realised that this was more than a tantrum.
Being with Roxanne was fun, forbidden and a little bit exciting. Roxanne was not like a motherly figure. She was much too young and pretty for that tag.
She was honest enough to admit that she was flattered by the attention she was receiving from this confident, glamorous woman. Roxanne seemed to enjoy her company and treated her like an adult. She listened to whatever Ellie had to say. She didn’t roll her eyes or set her mouth in measured tolerance, and Ellie didn’t feel that Roxanne was mentally compiling the weekly shopping list as she spoke.
Roxanne pulled back the curtain of one cubicle and sorted the clothes into two piles. An attendant appeared behind them.
‘Is there anything I can help you with?’
‘We’re fine, thanks,’ Roxanne said, pleasantly. ‘Just having a little spend.’
‘I’d like an older sister like you,’ the attendant laughed.
Roxanne widened her eyes at Ellie, amused at the assumption. Before Ellie had a chance to correct the attendant. Roxanne pulled her close and ruffled her hair.
‘She’s worth it.’
The attendant smiled and walked away.
‘Here, this is your pile,’ Roxanne said, thrusting an armful of clothes towards her.
Ellie opened her mouth to protest but Roxanne had already closed the curtain behind her.
Ellie stepped into the next cubicle and removed her jeans. She pulled on the trousers which felt soft but crisp against her skin. She chose a pink T-shirt bearing an emblem of a spotted bow. Not appropriate for the current climate but that made it even more fun.
She was about to remove it when Roxanne called for her to come out.
Ellie pulled back the curtain and Roxanne clapped her hands with delight. ‘Oh, you look adorable, turn round.’
Ellie chuckled, enjoying the pleasure on Roxanne’s face. It was difficult not to get caught up in the woman’s infectious excitement.
She changed the T-shirt and donned the jacket. She stepped out to Roxanne holding a pair of flat shoes with black bows. ‘Here, try these.’
Ellie slipped them on and felt like a fourteen-year-old but the sensation of the new clothes against her skin was seductive.
‘You look positively lovely,’ Roxanne said, bunching her hair into a ponytail. Ellie saw her shake her head in the mirror from behind. ‘Young girls are just too eager to grow up these days. Youth should be enjoyed not escaped,’ she said, resting her hands on Ellie’s shoulders.
‘But you haven’t changed clothes,’ Ellie said to Roxanne’s reflection.
Roxanne put a finger to her lips. ‘All the jeans I chose are too tight. It must be the meals we’ve been eating.’
Ellie laughed.
Roxanne tapped her shoulders. ‘Okay, so change, pass the clothes out and I’ll put them back and then we must have a drink. Shopping is thirsty work.’
Ellie did as she was told and passed the clothing back out to her new friend.
As she put on her old clothes she had the feeling that she was playing truant from her real life. All her problems, her worries still existed but just not here. She knew she would have to face them some time but she wasn’t ready to leave Roxanne. Not quite yet.
Ellie exited the dressing rooms and looked above the clothing racks for Roxanne’s red head. She spied her near to the entrance.
As the figure came into view Ellie saw that she was holding a clutch of brown Primark bags.
Roxanne smiled and thrust them towards her. ‘Happy birthday,’ she said, smiling.
Ellie shook her head. ‘But I can’t. I mean it’s not…’
‘The presents are early. You’ll be home by then, so I have to do it now.’
‘No, Roxanne, honestly. I can’t accept—’
‘Ellie, please. I’d like to make you this gift. I feel terrible for what happened to you on Saturday. It wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t asked you to come and meet me.’ Roxanne held up her hands. ‘It’s the least I could do, so please just forget it. It wasn’t a lot of money and any further argument is gonna offend me. Okay?’
Ellie closed her mouth. That was
the last thing she wanted to do.
‘Now, come on. I’m as dry as a bone. We need a drink.’
Roxanne headed towards Starbucks in the next mall.
‘You get a table,’ Roxanne instructed. ‘Cappuccino or milkshake?’
‘Cappuccino,’ Ellie answered, feeling quite sophisticated.
As Roxanne joined the queue, Ellie sat at one of the window seats. She sneaked a look in the bags to find that some packs of underwear and socks had been added also. Ellie wondered how she could ever repay this woman’s kindness.
She glanced at Roxanne. Now at the head of the queue waiting for the drinks. Ellie watched as she reached into her handbag and removed her mobile phone and scrolled. She then tried to sneak the phone back into her handbag before handing a £5 note to the server.
Ellie felt emotion clog her throat.
Roxanne placed the drinks on the table and took the tray back to the counter.
Ellie waited until she was seated
‘Roxanne, you don’t have to do that, you know.’
Roxanne looked blank. ‘What?’
‘Check your phone secretly. You can’t hide the fact that my mother hasn’t called to check on me.’
Roxanne coloured and looked away.
‘Look, there’s probably a hundred reasons why.’
‘Name one,’ Ellie challenged. ‘Give me one good reason why she hasn’t even phoned to make sure I’m okay?’
Roxanne opened her mouth and then closed it again.
Ellie knew there was no answer, no reason, no excuse. She’d been out of the house for forty-eight hours and her own mother couldn’t care less.
Roxanne took the phone from her handbag and held it out.
‘Perhaps, you should give her a call and—’
‘Thank you, Roxanne, but no,’ Ellie said, shaking her head.
If that was the game her mother wanted to play she’d be damned if she’d call first.
TWENTY-SEVEN
Kim pulled up at the row of shops at the entrance to the Hollytree estate. She immediately thought that the term ‘community centre’ had been applied loosely to the old doctor’s surgery. In her opinion the title was aspirational.
Broken Bones: A gripping serial killer thriller (Detective Kim Stone Crime Thriller Series Book 7) Page 9
