Friday, 28 November 2014

Darkness Dominates - Chapter 3


The taller and stronger of the two paramedics carried Kara into the back of the ambulance. Once she’d been laid down carefully on the bed at the right-hand side of the vehicle, he picked some of the leaves stuck to her coat and flung them through the twin doors. A moment later, Jade boarded the ambulance’s interior.

“I need to come with her” stated Jade authoritatively.

“Are you a relative or friend?” asked the male paramedic.

“Detective Constable Jade Pryce. This girl was reported missing, possibly abducted: I need to be at the hospital when she comes round.”

“Sorry, a police presence can wait!” he said with equal authority.

“I’m also a friend of her parents” she added.

This extra fact was just about enough to sway him from his previous decision. He remained silent as she entered the ambulance fully. Jade found somewhere to sit that didn’t obstruct any of the pair of paramedics from doing their job. Angela appeared at the open doors.

“I’ve phoned the boss and gave him the latest update” said Korrell.

“I’ll call him when Kara comes round.”

Angela stepped back as the male paramedic closed each of the two doors in the sequence. He didn’t eye her as he carried the final task before the ambulance began its journey to Royal Bolton. From where she was seated, Jade heard him go round to the front of the vehicle and in less than a minute, the rumbling of the engine and the first vibrations coupled with motion were shackled together. There was some bumpiness as the ambulance moved nearer to a road-like surface, but when it found it, the rotation of the wheels became smoother. Kara stirred feverishly for a few seconds, but she slipped into unconsciousness again. All Jade did throughout the excursion to the hospital was to observe the young woman lying. There was no movement from Kara until the back doors to the ambulance were opened again. She underwent a brief spasm. It looked like a seizure, but wasn’t. Then, her body relaxed and the temporary stiffness vanished.

The members of hospital staff who immediately attended to her admission waited for the spasm to pass before getting her to a bed. Once physical serenity had been re-established, they whisked her off to one of the wards. Jade hadn’t said a word all through this process. DC Pryce resorted instead to showing hospital workers her identification to avoid queries too long-winded to answer. Unintentionally witnessing Kara coming into the hospital was Marcus. He had just come from seeing one of the OAPs who was back in for further tests and possible surgery. DC Pryce’s face was the distraction he was after right now. His patient had been difficult, but he’d kept his temper because he knew illness was its cause. Jade turning up was dissipating it now.

“Jade, who was that being admitted?”

“Kara Howarth. She was reported missing, but I found her wandering round the woods at Ryecroft Park.”

This was the only nugget of information Jade was willing to give her beau. She was not so dazed by seeing Dr Cartwright’s face that she couldn’t hold onto details that weren’t for the ears of anyone outside a police investigation. Marcus knew this about Jade and decided to bring up a topic that wasn’t to do with a criminal enquiry.

“It’s a good job I ran into you anyway, Jade.”

“In what way”

“I’ve decided I will turn up at the double date, but it’s very likely you might have to wait for a few more minutes, maybe more, until I turn up.”

“Are you helping with an operation this afternoon?”

“Yes, but I don’t know how long it’s going to take”

This was the answer that always told Jade the forthcoming operation requiring the junior doctor’s skills was a major one. She also realised that she would have to call Sophie after she was done here. Jade couldn’t hold up telling her sister that Marcus would be showing up. The planning going into this double date relied on this detail being shared amongst those showing up for the evening out.

“I’ve got to go, Jade – I’m sure you have to.”

This was a professional goodbye if ever she heard one. Jade didn’t feel put out, though. She could’ve easily said something similar, but her mind was elsewhere again and it wasn’t quick enough to put words into her mouth before Marcus’ mind did the same.

She found a waiting room and took a seat. Across from her was a family that incorporated a sister who was seven years older than her brother. He was nine and this put him in the line of any teenage insults thrown towards him by his sibling. The sixteen year-old seemed to be pouting over some decision made by her parents which she disagreed with. It had most likely been enforced, and she probably wanted her voice to be heard. She was using her eyes to dump all her emotional frustration on Jade, in spite of her being an undeserving target. DC Pryce bided some of the time she was expected to wait by echoing the toxic glance borne out of teenage grumpiness. The 16 year-old turned away, defeated in her purpose of making everyone around feel uncomfortable. When Jade’s mobile ringtone sounded, she removed herself from this waiting area to somewhere that wouldn’t be in danger of disturbing any patients who were tired or in distress.

“Hello? Hello, sir. Yes, I’m at Royal Bolton now. No, she’s not awake yet. What, sir? We’ll still need to talk to Mr George, regardless of what’s just happened.”

She listened to DCI Oliver as he made it clear to the junior officer this course of action was redundant. Her internal disagreement was buried in a moment. She didn’t see the likelihood of her superior seeing the matter from her perspective. It was one of those orders that non-compliance with meant demotion or dismissal.

“Yes sir, as soon as Kara wakes up, I’ll talk to her. I’ll let you know what she said once I get back there.”

She had just ended that call, when she selected Sophie’s number. Jade had changed her mind and thought it would be much better to ring her now to confirm Marcus would be attending.

DC Pryce got through two coffees and an iced bun before a male nurse came in to tell her that Kara had regained consciousness. He escorted her to the ward where the schoolgirl had been placed.

“Detective Constable Pryce, I’m Dr Maurice Silverdale” said the 54 year-old man who’d been writing notes on the clipboard in his hands.

“How’s she doing?”

“Well enough, considering.”

“Considering what?”

“For a start, she has some sort of bite mark on the left-hand side of her neck.”

“You said for a start: what else should I know about?”

“That can wait until you’ve asked her your questions. Besides, I want to talk to you privately about that. Confine your interview to a few minutes. She’s still a little weak. Let me know when you’re done!”

Dr Silverdale swiftly left Jade to it. He put the clipboard on the foot of the bed and stopped at another patient’s bed as he was making his way out of this ward.

Kara’s eyelids were flickering heavily and she was involuntarily licking her lips as she tried to struggle to full consciousness. The fevered blinking ceased when she tried to settle down into a lying-down position, facing the left-hand side of the bed. There was one more blink before Kara began looking at Jade.

“Mrs Pryce” she said groggily.

“It’s Miss Pryce, and I’m a police officer.

The tongue was back in Kara’s mouth, but it was still visible from anyone standing above, and Jade fell into that group. DC Pryce naughtily glimpsed the contents of the clipboard, but she wiped these details away by thinking of a song that could play in her head and blotting the information out. They were confidential and Jade had no right to keep the data in her mind.

“How did I get here, Miss Pryce?”

“By ambulance, Kara”

Miss Howarth then tried sitting up. The movement caused her to feel nauseous and she started to wretch. DC Pryce called out for a nurse boisterously. One came dashing over to Kara’s bedside just in time. She held out a container under the teenage girl’s chin and a small amount of vomit ended up in it. Kara did not have the sick sensation anymore. The regurgitation had removed it and her stomach did not feel as if it were burning. The chest slackened and she breathed in a relaxed fashion.

“Do you feel better now?”

“A little, yeah” Kara said in between breaths.

“What’s the last thing you remember?”

“Just a couple of things, Miss Pryce”

“Can you tell me what they were?”

“Are my mum and dad here?”

“No, not yet, Kara. I really need to know what your two memories were.”

“A pale blue neon sign and a van that was the same colour as my mum and dad’s dining table.”

The verbal reply made Kara look rather exhausted. Speaking was apparently more strenuous than a five-mile walk, and she was soon asleep again. A low, murmuring snore then filled the air around her hospital bed. Jade decided to let her rest. The nurse who’d prevented vomit ending up on the floor was ensuring Miss Howarth was as comfortable as she could possibly be. Before DC Pryce made any effort to walk away from Kara’s bed, she whispered to the nurse “Where’s Dr Silverdale’s office?” She pointed to where it was located. The walk to it lasted four minutes tops.

“Come in, Detective Constable Pryce” he said.

Jade hadn’t even knocked on the door yet, and she was suddenly going over in her mind how Dr Silverdale could’ve guessed she was waiting for an invitation to enter. The door handle was metallic and somewhat bulky in appearance, but pressing it down to open hardly required any hand pressure on her part. She took the only free chair in the room.

“What other things do I need to know about Kara’s condition – and why do we need to discuss it in here?”

“I misled you a little” he said, without moving his eyes from the computer screen he was staring intently at.

“In what way”

“There are no other physical ailments attributed to her condition.”

“If that’s the case, why do you want speak to me in private?”

“Because, Detective Constable Pryce, her two recurring medical conditions – eczema and diabetes – have disappeared!”

“They’re in remission?”

“No, I mean they’ve gone during the past day or so!”

DC Pryce tried to digest this revelation, but it didn’t sound like a rational opinion derived from proper medical science. She was compelled, therefore, to be dismissive of it.

“That’s bullshit, Dr Silverdale! Those two illnesses don’t clear up by themselves, without medical treatment!”

Jade’s response was near to a kind of condemnation. Her disbelief in what she was hearing made the reply touch on that kind of tone.

“I agree” he said sympathetically, “they can’t...but I carried out the standard tests and the conclusion I’ve just told you about was the one I reached. It’s as if these ailments were deleted just like that”. He demonstrated the briskness of their disappearance by clicking the fingers on his right hand; he couldn’t manage it with his left.

Unable to comprehend this information for the moment, Jade activated her phone and scrolled down the ‘contacts’ list, burdened by the fact she’d only now thought of giving Mr & Mrs Howe the development they were hoping for. She was soon calling Kara’s parents, correcting the oversight she was guilty of.

“Hello, Kaye – it’s Jade! Kara’s been found! She’s at the Royal Bolton: I’ll wait for you in the cafe!”

She could hear Mrs Howarth squealing with joy in the background as she terminated the call. Jade turned back to where Dr Silverdale was seated. He was looking up Kara’s medical history and the number of times she’d come to this hospital. Maurice was genuinely taken aback that her series of admissions as a patient did not run into double figures, and he was straight into sharing this with Jade.

“Given what had been wrong with her in the past, I expected her to be here more regularly than the records said she was a patient here.”

“Is there anything in these records that explain why she recovered from her two big illnesses so quickly, Dr Silverdale?”

“There’s nothing, DC Pryce! To be frank, I don’t have a sound explanation.”

This was Jade’s cue to judge this meeting as being at an end. It looked hugely improbable that his medical expertise was going to result in her getting the answers she was seeking in relation to this anomaly, so she walked out of his office.

She was back having another coffee in the hospital’s in-house cafeteria when Kaye and Paul arrived. They almost bumped into three people leaving the cafe, and Paul nearly lost his temper with the second. This was down to the individual’s attitude: he gave them a look that seemed to make them feel they were to blame. Kaye was the voice of reason in this instance and her husband was fortunately in a mood that allowed his wife to talk him out of decking the cocky young adult.

“Which ward is she in?” asked Kaye.

DC Pryce panicked for a second. She hadn’t really being paying attention to the geographical infrastructure of the hospital’s corridors. One ward, or department, looked very much like the other, and she couldn’t give them directions. The sole verbal solution she came up with was “The person at the reception desk will help you with that”.

 

Jade’s re-entry into Bolton CID’s HQ coincided with the sudden appearance of Catherine Henfield and Chief Constable Anthony Merton. They were regularly one corridor ahead of her, as both were making their way to the same destination. It was not much of a stretch on her part to join up the dots between their visit and the fruitless meeting she’d had with Ms Henfield this morning. The two events couldn’t possibly be dissimilar. The visitors didn’t glance to the side as they walked towards DCI Oliver’s office: his team of plain clothes detectives were in the insignificant camp today. Catherine’s present mood radiated an air of the female executive who had made it to the final two on ‘The Apprentice’. All Jade’s colleagues were immediately superfluous to Ms Henfield’s requirements, and she didn’t hide this attitude; it was written all over her face. DC Pryce watched them go in and through the pane of glass that the interior of her boss’s office could be seen, she saw him react unfavourably to what they were here to say to him. The impromptu conference was shorter than any of Stewart’s subordinates anticipated and the pair of visitors departed, with Catherine still staying out of everyone’s eye-line. Chief Constable Merton wasn’t quite so standoffish, however, and he did produce one or two apologetic glances to the members of DCI Oliver’s team. Jade had a knowing glance of her own for Ms Henfield, but in a second, decided it was too toxic, even for her, and pushed it to the side where such hateful thoughts are allowed to wither rapidly.

DCI Oliver stayed in his office for a few minutes. He paced up and down on more than six occasions. Jade knew that physical activity was the precursor to bad news that he had no choice but to deliver. He opened the door in three separate goes, and walked over to Angela’s desk first of all. There was no pattern established as to who he was going to talk to first. Also absent was a group announcement: he was going for the one-on-one chats. The only thing he said to each officer was “The investigation into the disappearance of the remaining five girls has been handed over to Catherine Henfield and her department. This order comes straight from the Chief Constable and the Home Secretary, John Arden, himself, so I can’t go against it!” It was practically an office memo in spoken form. Jade was the third officer to be told it.

“May I ask why this isn’t a police matter anymore” enquired DC Pryce.

“You may, but I won’t be able to furnish you with any details because I have been kept out of the loop here too” said DCI Oliver regretfully.

Half an hour or so later, Jade and Angela were seeking a short respite from basking in the uncharitable feelings the other officers were holding onto and emitting, as a result of the bombshell Catherine had forced Stewart to drop on CID.. The one place that could make this happen was the coffee machine. The difference between this make and model and the old-fashioned hot drinks dispensers was quality. Any coffee from the latter machines was sure to be bland and tasteless, so considerable effort had gone into that kind of improvement.

“As good as the stuff they have in Costa”

Angela’s one-sentence review of the coffee shop fell on deaf ears. DC Pryce was still sore about Catherine’s obstructive attitude to the work CID was doing, and it a wall had been momentarily erected around Jade’s thoughts. What did cause it to crumble was Korrell coming up with a weird statement that was designed to attract the attention of people who were only half-listening.

“I’m going to adopt a Syrian baby.”

This was so far away from Angela’s domestic manifesto that Jade couldn’t help but take notice of the fake announcement. Her bemusement burst through unchallenged. The mind’s inner-workings filtered none of it.

“I thought you were going to try for a baby!”

The seriousness with which Jade laid out her reply matched the level DS Korrell employed to pierce her friend’s thought bubble. It made the reaction wholly understandable; there was no other logical response to a statement so out of character. Angela waited to see if Jade would pick up on its sheer absurdity, but strangely, she was taking the information as red.

“No, I’m not adopting a Syrian kid, Jade! I only said that because it looked like you were away with the fairies.”

DC Pryce said “Oh!” and pirouetted onwards to the actual reason behind her giving Angela the impression she was in a world of her own.

“I was thinking about Catherine’s actions. I should’ve, by rights, arrested her for obstructing an investigation! She lied to me, Angela!”

“How exactly did she lie?”

“She said that she never sent that E-mail to Kara. You and I both saw her account. There was definitely one that had been sent from Ms Henfield.”

“I know, but what do you intend doing about it?”

“Nothing” said Jade, far into a sense of defeat over this issue. “Cathy has used her connections to fuck up any chance of us doing our jobs! I’d like to see her do a fucking better job than ours!”

The majority of Jade’s anger was spooned into the final sentence that made up her answer. She hadn’t really intended to make it sound like a challenge, but her tone made it impossible for DS Korrell to interpret in any other fashion.

“That’s the trouble! You and I don’t know for certain that she won’t.”

“Now that’s way depressing! I was looking forward to her effort going tits up!”

“Jade, you need to take your mind off Cathy sticking her oar in like this!”

“Any suggestions”

“One: how about testing me on music questions, Jade! I need to be good on this subject in case I get asked a question in that category during tomorrow night’s pub quiz.”

“Okay, you’re on! What decade are you the most clued up on?”

“The 1960s and the 1980s”

Jade raided her memories of tunes from either era, but she still had to float back to the information she gained as to what her parents listened to in the Sixties. She knew more about Eighties music, despite being born at the end of that decade. It only took her half a minute to come up with a question she wouldn’t struggle to ask or to provide an answer to.

“It’ll have to be just the one, Angela – I can already feel the Cathy Henfield situation climbing back into my brain!”

“One will do!”

“Which late Sixties band had the first number one of the Eighties?”

“That’s easy Jade – Pink Floyd with ‘Another Brick in the Wall Part 2’.”

Technically, the way she had put the question wasn’t strictly accurate. Pink Floyd’s sole chart-topper came at the end of the Seventies. It was a crossover hit and it generated the feeling the 1980s had come earlier than expected. The song’s sound made it seem the future was bleeding into the past. Jade’s knowledge of that decade’s music harboured one more example – ‘Video Killed the Radio Star’ by The Buggles. There didn’t appear to be any others, and Jade didn’t have time to examine this fact in more detail. She was back thinking about Cathy lying to her about the E-mail Kara received. The denial could easily be scotched and DC Pryce was being forced to confront the possibility that Ms Henfield was in possession of details that might wrap up the case quicker than her colleagues could. It was hard for Jade to accept this as true. Whenever they were in a room together, their shared tepid animosity tended to pollute the social atmosphere and if there was anybody else nearby, they would feel the effects. That was the aspect most likely to be a point from which DC Pryce might get angry at the very thought of being in Catherine’s company, and she put the lion’s share of her brainpower into trying to bury it.

 

It’d been six years since Jade and Sophie had changed their clothes together in front of each other. This time, though, it was being conducted in a location neutral to any residual of sibling rivalry. The venue was Marcus’ house: the one place that was immune to clothes-related hostilities stemming from teenage divisions over who owned what garments.

Sophie had arrived at Dr Cartwright’s house first with Mark in tow. Jade had phoned him whilst heading to her car to expect her sister to turn up before her. The other matter discussed over the phone was Cathy’s hugely unwelcome intervention. She launched into it sharply.

“On your way to Gladstone’s Restaurant, phone your friend Cathy and tell her not to pull a stunt like that at my place of work ever again!”

Jade’s outpouring of disapproval caught Marcus off-guard. He had no idea of what had gone down at Bolton CID this afternoon, and he was automatically eager for his girlfriend to enlighten him over this matter.

 “What stunt did she pull, Jade?”

He was sincere in his ignorance of what had gone on. Unfortunately, Jade was in no mood to accept he didn’t have a clue as to Catherine’s intentions. He realised he was going to face blame by association, and decided there and then to deal with it by not trying to argue his innocence.

“I’m sorry Jade – I’ll call in on her and have a word.”

DC Pryce listened, but said nothing to him that highlighted a shift in her opinion that Catherine had told him what she was up to prior to her putting it into practice. She was not going to let him off the hook, even though Ms Henfield hadn’t been open about with him about what she was intending to do. She subsequently redirected her mind back to the double-date, simply reminding him when she would be turning up on his doorstep. That moment came and went over half an hour ago.

A couple of minutes before that, though, DC Pryce’s vehicle turned into Dunning Park: Jade was no stranger to the car journey here but Sophie was. The country lane-type road that stretched out for a good quarter-of-a-mile, the secondary turn off to the right, the houses’ individual sizes (three times they length and width of Jade’s own), and the concrete public paths that demonstrated to people passing through their detached statuses, were all new experiences for Sophie and Mark. They were in uncommon territory. To them, the area could easily be subtitled ‘millionaire’s row’. Although there was every chance Jade would exclude Marcus from such a broad evaluation. She didn’t know exactly how much money he had and so was unwilling to touch on speculation which might be untrue. Directly over the wide road from Dr Cartwright’s home was the largest of the residences, owned by the only person in Bolton who could afford a property that palatial – Frank George. There was a garage to the left and to the right of the house: both were larger than most; and they stuck out like two short, stubby arms as if they were reaching out to the neighbours who walked by on a daily occurrence. They were almost in hugging mode. The driveway had three lawns on either side, symmetrically positioned so that they exhibited a mirror-image quality. Two triangular quads and a circular one occupied each half and they were laid out to further create the illusion that one was the precise reflection of the other. Marcus’ driveway had a similar set-up, except that the 3rd and 6th quad happened to be cube-shaped. Sophie also was able to determine that Dunning Park was a cul-de-sac, and that there was no way to exit the area other than going back the route that brought visitors and residents into it in the first place. What made this fact obvious was that the area where a second exit was most likely to be had been sealed off and it was the location of a house that was at the bottom end of the road. Jade saw it and informed Sophie this was Catherine’s house. There was no particular reason for her to fill her sister about that. Her prime motivation had been that she had seen Marcus walking back from there. He’d done as she’d asked but looked a tad less than satisfied as a result of trying to talk to her. DC Pryce had the right to learn what he and Catherine had said to one another, but Jade studied his expression and concluded that she should leave the matter until after the date, or better yet, the following morning. She was moving away from the idea there was a rush to know what Ms Henfield had provided in defence of taking the reins of DCI Oliver’s investigation. Jade didn’t feel she had any business taking charge of it, and wasn’t disposed in favour of relinquishing that point of view.

In the course of making her way in through Marcus’ front door, Jade looked to her right and saw Catherine emerge out onto her driveway. There was a sudden exchange of glances, both stony and both trying to be dismissive of one another’s presence out in the open.

Like models and actresses heading out to somewhere special like an awards ceremony or a premiere, the Pryce sisters descended the staircase on the right-hand side as if they were celebrities. Their choice of attire didn’t visually dispel this perception at all. It was the type of clothing people who were famous would be seen in at showbiz events. Nevertheless, Sophie and Jade were trying not to over-emphasise how glamorous they looked to the boyfriends. “Stunning” said Marcus in a gentlemanly fashion. Mark Jessop was prone to exhibiting more earthy reactions to an exquisitely-dressed woman and exclaimed “Gorgeous!” Of the two women, Sophie was the most appreciative of the compliments. Jade, though, could feel her professional and personal pride sullied by this afternoon’s occurrence. It wasn’t contributing to the notion that a relaxed evening out was not on the cards for her or Marcus.

Out on the driveway, Marcus’ car was parked horizontally opposite the front door. It was more couple-friendly in the back than in the front. This suited Mark and Sophie down to the ground, as there was less a cool atmosphere than the one Jade and Marcus were failing to mask. The drop in air temperature was doing its bit to hide out, but their expressions couldn’t be arsed to. Marcus was trying to be mature, but stepped upon pride is harder for a man to shake, and he was beginning to be beset by a sullenness which Jade wasn’t bothering to alter. She didn’t feel it was going to be her place and the attitude Jade radiated was less kind to her boyfriend’s feelings regarding this situation when the two couples entered Gladstone’s. Their dual silence wasn’t infecting Sophie’s and Mark’s mood. It was lighter and better protected against the danger of it being spoiled by Jade and Marcus’ relationship issues. An optimistic idea was starting to turn into a bad idea, but DC Pryce and Dr Cartwright didn’t want that to rub off on the two people they were sharing this date with. It was easier to say than to achieve, and within minutes of the four diners receiving their menus, Marcus’ tiny flicker of resentment was the spark needed to inflame his girlfriend’s growing irascibility. It was only made up of a few words, but they were sufficient to darken her mood a fraction more.

“I don’t know why you’re blaming me.”

“Trust you to bloody well bring this up now, Marcus!”

Her tone of voice was already thunderous and Sophie was pushed into observing it, whether she wanted to witness it or not. Jade’s bad day was now manifesting itself into the overall atmosphere, bit-by-bit.

“How about the spicy chicken steak and potatoes”

Sophie’s diversion from an argument that was already brewing did no good. Their minds were immovable from the trouble Catherine had created between them. Marcus waded into his turn to lay his grievance on the table.

“Why should I pay for Catherine’s actions? I told her off! Can’t you find it within you to draw a line under it?”

“That’s bullshit, Marcus! I see what this is: appeasement for your best friend!”

“Now you’re being ridiculous!”

“I’m not – it’s obvious whose side you find easier to take!”

“Please you two” said Sophie a little more sternly. “The other customers are starting to notice your row.”

This shamed Jade and Marcus into a kind of truce. Sophie was all too wary that her big sister’s expression showed it as purely temporary. The argument came to the fore again during a conversation between the sisters’ boyfriends. All it took for this trigger to be pulled was Marcus declaring that a friend’s advice is frequently worth taking. It was clearly a reply to Jessop asking Dr Cartwright a question attached to this topic, but it became a red rag to a bull where Jade was concerned. She recalled a moment when Catherine had phoned Marcus at her place when she was there, and it followed another discussion where DC Pryce had tried to convince him her moving in would be in their best interests. After the call was over, Marcus politely dismissed the suggestion. Two and two were quickly added together. The mathematics suddenly drew her to what really influenced his decision and her anger started to ascend through her throat. She halted her effort to finish her meal, which was already half-eaten, and turned sharply towards Marcus again.

“You let Catherine talk you out of saying yes to me moving in?”

“She felt it was too soon.”

“Don’t fucking give me that shit, Marcus! What you really meant is that you feel it’s too soon!”

Every time he opened his mouth, he couldn’t voice any rebuttal. Sophie seized upon this outcome and hardened her stare, looking into Marcus’ eyes.

“Is that true?” she barked.

“She doesn’t approve of my relationship with Jade,” said Marcus “but that doesn’t mean I’m not serious about our future together, Sophie.”

“One that doesn’t allow me access to your life full-time”

“Like I said, there are reasons!”

“Which are to do with her being a fucking snob!” yelled Jade.

The volume of her voice was proof that she was past caring what the other customers made of her using bad language this loudly. She could feel the anger turning into the temptation of her bursting into tears. The only way out of this predicament was to walk away from the environment that was getting her down.

“I’ve lost my fucking appetite” said DC Pryce through clenched teeth.

Without acknowledging anyone else’s expressions, Jade threw her serviette onto her plate and made a hasty retreat from the table. She kept staring straight ahead as she got further and further away from where she’d been seated. Her evening out had turned to shit. That was the sole thought occupying her brain space as she reached the entrance to Gladstone’s. The rush of cold air that collided with her face as she walked through the door didn’t prompt any expression. With her back turned away from the direction of the table she’d shared with the people she’d meant to enjoy herself with, neither Sophie, Mark or Marcus could see the look on Jade’s face, so they were none the wiser about the expressionless glance DC Pryce was wearing.

“You need to go after her” said Sophie.

There was a microcosm of terseness in her voice, but she was less inclined to be judgemental about the way Dr Cartwright had handled this unfortunate end to the double-date. She didn’t really know the more intimate ins-and-outs of her sister’s relationship, and forming an opinion without those facts was liable to be a bad move at this stage. Marcus propelled his chair back away from the table and proceeded to follow Sophie’s advice. She wasn’t a friend, but she was a member of Jade’s family and that made her suggestion just as valid as the kind offered by Catherine. He had to recognise, though, that his friend’s behaviour had instigated the disharmony between him and her.

Jade walked non-stop for ten minutes and get beeped twice by cars she was nearly knocked down by. There was no luck involved, just brisk and speedy foot movement. Everything around her was fading instantaneously into the background. Filling that blurry void was her anger. It was dwindling, but part of her was trying to keep it fuelled and alive. Catherine had not only crapped on her day, but she’d shat all over her night too. She didn’t want the momentum of her temper to fade. For her, it was a way of blocking out any chance to be reasonable about what happened back at the restaurant. Right now, she was maintaining the feeling that rationality could go fuck itself. Ultimately, she was doing her best to dismantle the mindset she had to adopt as a police officer. She wasn’t quite getting the result she wanted, though. Her mind was resisting against her holding onto her anger just to cover what was really bothering her. Eventually, it cleared away. She stopped outside an off-licence. Then, she heard a ruckus and then a scream from a female customer coming from inside the building. Before she could take more than a few steps closer, Leon Harris emerged, wearing a greener version of the clobber he had on when he got his dog to mark its territory by pissing on her doorstep. He was carrying a sports bag. Since it was half unzipped, Jade glimpsed five multipacks of lager and two bottles of vodka. It hardly took a genius to work out that Leon hadn’t paid for them. On seeing her, he pulled out a blue-handled Stanley knife from his left jacket pocket and started waving it around maliciously and without aim. There was no trauma-based frenzy to what he was doing. He was thrusting it in all directions because he could. He didn’t have the ‘rabbit in the headlights’ expression: Leon didn’t appear to care whether his weapon would hurt someone.

From a block away, Marcus was calling out to Jade to see if she would respond. DC Pryce just about heard it, but was focussed more on disarming and apprehending Harris than trying to repair her relationship.

“Short of a fiver were you” said Jade sarcastically.

“I’m fucking sick of you getting in my face!”

As Marcus’ voice got louder, it became more distracted. Unable to stop herself, she turned towards him. Leon saw his opportunity to leg it and seized it. Jade saw his escape in process and, without really thinking about what she was doing, gave chase. Marcus, witnessing this, was compelled to be the third person in this pursuit. Both Jade and Leon had a three-minute head start on Marcus and he wasn’t in the area of the supermarket car park where the pursuit came to an end. She was a just over a minute behind Harris and when she reached the concrete surface inhabited mainly, at this time at night, by shelters housing shopping trolleys, DC Pryce couldn’t see any movement near or in the pools of light. The main conclusion in her mind was that he had taken refuge in one of the shadows. People never vanish into thin air or are abducted by aliens, so there was no other explanation at hand. This put Jade on edge. She commonly nicknamed them portals of gloom because they were the perfect place for potential rapists and muggers to lie in wait for their victims. Her adrenalin flowed liberally and it somehow muted the fear. Jade preferred to use it to rise above the fear. It wasn’t a masculine tendency, but DC Pryce understood there were circumstances where she couldn’t show members of the public how frightened she could get. Deep breathing and concentrating on examples where she had shown an iron will and grace under pressure kept it momentarily at bay. Jade moved her body in a circular motion to see which shadow Leon had chosen to mask his presence. Disastrously, she didn’t survey them all, and from one of the ones behind her, Leon emerged.

He wheeled her round and thrust the Stanley knife into the right-hand side of her chest. It happened so fast, disarming him was, for the second occasion, out of the question. She felt no pain, only a burning sensation around where the blade had sliced into the flesh. Beginning as a small red patch, the blood seeping through the gash the knife had made was expanding. She didn’t obey the automatic instinct to put something against the wound to staunch the bleeding. There was nothing but her dress, though. Spying the hem, she spotted the position where it had been torn in the course of the pursuit. Jade ripped it further, with double the vigour but there wasn’t enough material to cover the size of the wound. The fabric was flimsy and didn’t seem to be absorbing it. Tiny drips of the blood were pattering onto the concrete, making a trail of droplets stretching no wider than ten centimetres. Jade was already starting to stumble when Marcus finally ran into the car park. He was propping her up as soon as he pinpointed where his girlfriend was.

Seeing him toughened her up unnecessarily. Her pride was still working on her and she wasn’t allowing herself to give way to a forgiving mood. Jade pushed him away and yelled “I don’t need your help! Sod off!” Marcus paid no heed to her malicious stubbornness and persevered with trying to lower her down to a more comfortable position. His medical training was put into practice straight away, and he slid down as much of the right half of her dress as he could. It didn’t expose the area where Leon had stabbed her. Faced with no other choice, he took the whole dress off. The extent of the wounding was clarified when he moved her over to where there was more illumination. He called Leon a bastard under his breath, but he didn’t wallow in his hatred for Harris for more than a moment. Saving Jade was the only priority here. Keeping his fingers clear of where the blood was spreading to, Marcus made a quick examination of the skin surrounding the cut. Meanwhile, Jade was on the verge of passing out and he had to intervene to keep her lucid.

“Come on, Jade! Stay alert!”

“Never knew dying hurt so fucking much!”

“You’re not dying” he said, trying to be reassuring, but he could tell the Stanley knife used had caused more damage than what was visible in front of his own eyes. “Just try breathing deeply, but not strenuously.”

She started following this order, but mockingly. Jade had no inclination to forget how pissed off he’d made her...even now she was hovering between life and death. Her breathing was getting shallower by the second. He looked down at her again, but the duration was more than momentary.

“Jade, I’m sorry for what I must do”

The apologetic announcement had a cryptic tone to it. He wasn’t sure whether she was lucid enough to understand what he meant by that. It wasn’t something he saw as mattering that much. He opened his mouth, ready to display an unfathomable dental transformation. The teeth on either side of the two right at the centre of his upper gum morphed into sabre-like molars. Marcus lowered his head until the incisors reached their target. Sliding down each one was a milky white fluid that filtered into the puncture marks left by his bite. The larger wound almost obscured them, but they could just be made out by Dr Cartwright. When it disappeared through the holes, Jade convulsed once. It lasted for a whole minute and her back arched, as if the spine was about snap because of the severe tension the body was experiencing. Once the short-term rigor mortis had dissipated, her chest resumed the normal motion associated with breathing. It was more regular and less erratic. He stroked her hair as her eyes flickered until they were closed. When she was in a serene, slumber-like state, Marcus stood up and looked upwards towards the moon. The needle-sharp teeth had mutated back into their normal formation. He turned away from the Earth’s nearest neighbour and picked up Jade as she was sleeping.

Marcus carried her all the way back to the restaurant. His car was waiting in the place he’d parked it. There was no sign of Sophie or Mark. He wasn’t surprised they didn’t stick around to see if the couple they were sharing their date with would return. If he and Jade had been in their shoes, he believed they would’ve made the same choice. A passer-by saw him lay the Detective Constable across the rear passenger seating.

“Is she pissed?”

“I don’t mean to be rude, but that’s none of your business.”

The remark was politely-worded, but the stranger observing the scene didn’t take it that way.

“Fine – bloody sod you then!”

He shuffled away rather than walk properly. The foot movement was sullen and cocky.

“Over-sensitive much” thought Marcus, mimicking like a teenager in his own little world. The phrase was not his style at all, and he hadn’t the foggiest where or whom it had been channelled from.

He hastened his effort to drive away from Gladstone’s. The longer the car stayed in one spot, the more the possibility someone might easily wonder why no-one had moved it in over an hour. This wasn’t a multi-storey where there were fixed prices for a range of time periods vehicles could be there for. Parking up against high-street kerbs was a different kettle of fish. Drivers who left their cars there were expected to return within the confines of sixty minutes or so. Using his favourite route, Marcus left the high street in a quarter of that time and was back on the right road to Dunning Park sixteen minutes later. Muffled by the inside coat pocket’s insulation, Jade’s mobile ringtone prompted Marcus to pull into the nearest kerb. He had the aptitude to drive a car and answer a mobile phone at the same time, but he couldn’t because of the law that was passed to prevent accidents of this nature. Pulling over was his only option. The flashing screen of the phone had the name of the caller with their number below. He answered it, but his first impulse was to slide it across, using the touch-screen facility, to cancel the call. Identifying the voice on the other end as Angela’s, he asked “Are you after Jade?”

“I’ll say” DS Korrell said.

“What’s the matter?”

“Kara’s mum and dad are dead and she’s disappeared! Can you put her on?”

Thinking on his feet, Marcus explained that Jade had gotten a bit too merry in the midst of the double-date. Angela accepted this reason immediately.

“Romantic talk flows better with booze, Marcus”

“Got it in one, Angela”

The mobile phone was the form of communication most likely to disguise less than convincing explanations. Voices regularly sounded overtly mechanical and lacking in discernible emotion, so there was no dead giveaway in someone’s tone.

“Is she about sober enough to speak to me?”

“I’m afraid she isn’t, Angela”

“I was hoping against hope that wouldn’t be the case. The DCI called the Chief Constable a few minutes after arriving on the scene to fill him in. His superior wouldn’t allow him to tie the enquiry into the one involving Frank George’s possible connection. That’s why I want to talk to her.”

“She’s sleeping it off, Angela. Can I get her to phone you back tomorrow morning?”

“Yeah that’s fine, but it has to be first thing tomorrow!”

“I promise” said Marcus, aware that couldn’t stick to that kind of guarantee. He ended that call and made another one immediately.

“Catherine, I need you to come over to my house – urgently!”

“I hope it is urgent, Marcus!” he heard her say down the phone line.

“It is, believe me!”

 

Sunday, 23 November 2014

Darkness Dominates - Chapter 2

A tall constable with an etched, almost bony face unrolled a length of the police tape barrier across the right-hand route into the back area of The Tiger & Swan. DCI Oliver and DI Nicholson both ducked under it whilst that PC was doing his job. They soon came across DC Pryce. Her upper thighs were keeping her propped up diagonally against a tower of three unopened crates housing bottles of German beer Frank liked to stock.

“I’ll have a word with you in a minute, Pryce” said DCI Oliver. He ventured over to the newly arrived Dr Maurice Silverdale, the head of Thistlewood CID’s forensic team, first of all. Pathology was not Maurice’s first career: he had spent twenty-six years of his adult life as a doctor and then a surgeon. For two of those years, he had temporarily acted as a member of the General Medical Council, but he didn’t much care for the job he had to do. He’d participated in the striking off of seven doctors and two dentists, but in one of the cases, he didn’t believe the allegation that brought about the end of a fellow doctor’s career. The others in that regulatory body did, and his take on the reported incident was given less credence than he would’ve liked it to have. It was Stewart who took him away from trying to save lives and placed him in the arena of determining how people had theirs taken away. He’d never had his own private practice on Harley Street, a destination he was ambitious enough to want to reach, but this responsibility was just as satisfying. Helping to unmask murderers was, as far as he was concerned, his way of fulfilling his desire to give the families of the victims the justice they were after. That specific aspect of his profession made up for the gruesomeness he had to experience. Maurice had a strong stomach, but even he saw things that made him want to throw up. The sight of the dead woman in ultra revealing attire was not one of those examples. He put on the gloves all forensic workers had to wear and started to examine the corpse lying on the concrete floor. Seeing the face of the deceased suddenly brought on an expression of supreme crossness.

“Who closed her eyes?” thundered Dr Silverdale.

Not being someone who would wheedle their way out of trouble, Jade confessed it was her straight away and attached the reason she’d done it.

“I admire people who show due respect for murder victims, DC Pryce” said Maurice in a softer tone. “However, you know as well as I do that a no part of the corpse can be touched in any way shape or form. I’d advise you to remember that in future.”

This couldn’t make it more apparent to her how seriously Dr Silverdale took his set of responsibilities. He wanted every stage of his job to yield the significant forensic details that could lead Stewart to viable suspects in the investigation. Maurice next chose to examine both sides of the female’s neck quite thoroughly. The left was the first side he viewed and it only took about a few seconds to see the puncture wounds. They were heavily blood-splattered, leading Maurice to conclude that an artery in the neck had been penetrated and this had resulted in some sort of external haemorrhaging. He phrased that diagnosis in a more basic form.

“She, whoever she is, bled out from the area of the wound.”

The question of the victim’s identity was not one Dr Silverdale thought of putting forward. How and why summed up his professional interest.

“What do you think caused that, Maurice?”

DCI Oliver’s query did put him on the spot a little. Maurice was the kind of expert in that field that wouldn’t rush out a series of findings without studying whether he could definitely peg them as correct. He had to make this clear to Stewart.

“Ask me again in a few hours.”

This reply was just as simple as his previous one. However, it was full of hidden reasons why he couldn’t make an educated guess if he didn’t have the relevant facts at his fingertips. DCI Oliver was learning to grasp this type of subtlety but he still needed one question being answered as an approximation.

“If you were to make a rough guess, Maurice, would you say that this injury had been caused by a dog attacking the victim?”

Maurice repeated his last response. He was refusing to commit to concluding that was what occurred in case he found newer facts that might contradict that evaluation. Stewart left Dr Silverdale to it. The CID enquiry was not going to be helped by rushing him for information. The next person DCI Oliver approached was Jade. Despite her being one of his team, she was the one who informed him about the cadaver she found, and this made her a possible witness. He had to ask her the same type of questions he would put to any member of the public reporting that they’d come across a body.

“I’m sure I don’t need to remind you that you’ll need to give a statement to one of the constables, once I’ve finished asking you about the events leading up to this young woman’s death.”

Jade wanted to say “You already have, sir”, but she went for the more professionally respectful “You don’t need to, no, sir”.

“Before we begin, what happened to Korrell? I tried ringing her as soon as I arrived, but her mobile’s been turned off: I was shunted straight onto voicemail.”

“She got some bad news and we decided to spend tonight getting drunk – but I changed my mind and made sure she got home to her hubby in a taxi. I was about to go home myself when I heard something being knocked over. I went to have a gander and that’s when I found the victim lying there.”

“Face down?”

“No, she was staring up at me. Her eyes were still open. As you heard, sir, I closed them without remembering that this counts as crime-scene contamination.”

“Don’t beat yourself up about that, Pryce – I did that once when I was a Detective Constable. It’s a rule that’s worryingly easy to forget. Now then, did you find what caused the noise that grabbed your attention?”

“I didn’t find it, sir, no. Have you?”

“Yes, there was a pile of empty cardboard boxes round the left-hand side passage of The Tiger & Swan. I reckon the bloke with the dog we’re after probably knocked them over when he...”

“Sorry, sir, but there was no dog anywhere near where I found her body! If there was, I would’ve smelled it.”

“Are you sure you didn’t hear barking?”

“I’m a hundred percent certain, sir – I only heard the sound of the boxes being toppled onto their sides...nothing else!”

“Perhaps it sounded like something else.”

“I only had a fruit juice in the end, sir.”

“I see – I’ll forget I asked that then.”

He was annoyed at himself for not being subtle enough in masking his bid to find out whether drink had dulled her instincts. There was no way he could be surprised by the ease with which Jade was able to see his question for what it was really about.

“What happened before you found her dead?”

“I didn’t become aware of her, sir, until she walked past me. When she did, I heard her talking to someone on her mobile phone.”

“Did she address whoever she was talking to by their Christian name?”

“By their pet-name, sir”

She rolled her eyes as she said this.

“Is it that bad, Pryce?”

“It’s that bad, sir! Think ‘Geordie Shore’ bad!”

“Alright then, let’s hear it.”

“Sugar-Butt”

Those who were in uniform who were within listening distance started sniggering. They stopped as soon as DCI Oliver shot a “none of that nonsense” glance right at them.

“You’re spot on, Pryce – it is that bad! In my day, romantic pet-names consisted of “darling” or “sweetheart”. Nowadays, if you call any woman either of those things, you’d get whacked across the face and a restraining order placed on you, to boot! That’s probably why it came from....”

Stewart was quick to stop himself from going any further into what he was on the verge of saying. If one more word had come out, he was going to look pretty chauvinistic to his female colleagues. He rewound his mind back to all things pertaining to the incident Jade had reported to him.

“At a mere guess, Pryce, would you say that the person she was on the phone to was calling from near where you found the body, or do you think the call was made from a lengthier distance away than that?”

Jade had no information to suggest either likelihood could be the truth here. She had to come up with a credible answer, and only one sprang to mind.

“Given what I saw in the pub, right before she left, I would probably think the caller was summoning her to go outside. Don’t quote what I said as a fact, though, sir!”

“I understand you totally: you don’t have enough to go on to make you think your guess is actually what happened. You should be proud of that answer: it means you’re not willing to jump to any conclusions that could jeopardize the enquiry – that’s commendable, believe me!”

“Do you want me to give my statement to one of my colleagues, sir?”

“Not yet, Pryce – I have a couple more questions I have to ask you. First of all, had you seen this woman before tonight?”

“No, sir, I’d never seen her before.”

“Lastly, for now, did anyone head out of the pub before she did?”

“I didn’t see anyone pass me in the direction of the entrance, but that doesn’t mean no-one did, sir.”

“I think you’ve told me all you can, so you can give your statement to WPC Maitland, and then help out DC Matthews with talking to the staff and regulars first. I’d normally tell my officers to get a good night sleep right about now, but with this incident happening at this hour, there’ll be too much to do for me to say that to them. I need all hands on deck here.”

“Before I get on that, sir, may I ask why you were so convinced it was a dog that killed this young woman?”

“Because of the bite-marks, DC Pryce: I thought it was the same M.O as the last two deaths, but from what you told me, the scene of this incident doesn’t match the others. Nah, I think we’re dealing with a separate crime! Something else other than dog’s teeth was used, most likely a weapon.”

“I didn’t see one nearby, and I don’t think any of our lot have recovered one so far, sir.”

“Maybe not, but I would still like to pursue the probability that a two-pronged implement, such as a pitchfork or trowel. My guesses are only based on what shape the wound resembles. We’ll know that when the blood has been washed off the corpse. Our next job is to find out who she is. You can help with that when you’ve given your statement and interviewed some of the people inside.”

Taking it as a reminder of the previous instruction he’d issued to her, Jade went to find where Olivia was situated in her current surroundings. Stewart was about to take a butcher’s at the displaced cardboard containers when a male constable, wearing the regulation blue gloves, came dashing over to him.

“What is it, PC Edgware?”

“I found something, sir.”

Edgware held up a golden wrist chain in front of his superior.

“Where was it found?”

“Near to those knocked-over boxes, sir”

DCI Oliver took out an evidence bag and slid the object into it. He then replaced it in the coat pocket he’d fished it out of.

“That’ll be all, Edgware.”

“Yes sir.”

He turned and set about going about the duties his presence here required him to execute.

Jade giving her statement to uniform had a vastly shorter duration than trying to get helpful details from Frank, the members of staff and the customers. There were more regulars in attendance than Jade first thought. The number of interviews conducted therefore added up to at least five hours of talking to people. It was going on three in the morning before either DC Pryce or DC Matthews were done seeking everybody’s recollection of the woman who was later found dead. None of the statements taken revealed anything that offered new significance to the account Jade had already given to her superior and to Olivia. This failure seemed to make her more tired than she had been several minutes ago. Donnie left the grounds of The Tiger & Swan half an hour later in his car, but she didn’t have the energy left for that. Jade found a couch-like seat directly opposite the pool table. Within a moment or two of her putting her head down onto the leather covering that made it so comfortable, she went out like a light.

She was shook awake by WPC Maitland the next morning. The sun streaming through the glass in the inner set of double doors was brighter than it was yesterday, and it briefly hurt Jade’s eyes.

“What time is it, Livy?” she asked in a groggy fashion.

“Coming up to a quarter to ten in the morning, Jade”

The mentioning of that time was what was needed to finish the job of getting her mind & body up-and-running. She leapt to her feet, but nearly careered forward into one of the circular tables ahead of her. Olivia thrust one of her arms to steady her, so that didn’t happen.

“Cheers for that, Livy!”

“That’s WPC Maitland to you” Olivia replied softly.

“Not until I start work, it isn’t!”

When she was away from any risk of repeating her possibly painful stumble, Jade eyes started to get accustomed to the sunshine outside. Then, she went outside to see how the crime scene looked in the morning light. The only thing to show that the police were here last night was the tape barrier, marked with the printed warning to keep the public well away from the wrong side of it. Everyone and everything else, together with the unknown woman’s corpse, had been removed from the pub’s exterior premises. With no name to give the deceased, Jade had christened her with the short-term nickname ‘Sugar-Butt Lover’ in her mind, and immediately regretted adding to the term of endearment’s sheer tackiness. She moved her present bundle of thoughts onto just how ugly the sunshine seemed to make the car park and the areas that were forbidden to anyone but the staff. Jade suddenly preferred it to be swathed in shadows and gloom. Olivia took her standing place by the middle of the tape barrier and Jade opted to spend a few minutes stood in close proximity to her.

“Are you going home now?”

“Later on, Maitland – I’m swinging by my parents’ house first. Mum will be there. I wouldn’t mind a chat with her; hadn’t had one for a bit.”

“You need to unburden?”

“Nothing like that: I just want to hear a motherly voice – that’s all it is, I promise.”

When her eyes were free enough of tiredness, Jade drove her car straight to where she intended to go – her mum & dad’s home address. The roofs were steeple-like and the round windows continued to give the house the appearance of a modern church. Its whiteness had faded into a cream brown shade. Even the door had a round window in it, and as Jade pressed the doorbell situated in the right-hand half of the outer door frame, she wished, for the umpteenth time, that her mum and dad would get rid of the round windows, once and for all. Three consecutive presses yielded no sign of her mum making her way to the door. Jade stepped back slightly to look through the door’s circular glass panel from a distance, but the corridor and the staircase fixed to the right-hand wall were empty. Nobody was walking through the hallway or up or down the stairs. Going with the notion Janelle Pryce was in the toilet, with the door locked from the inside, DC Pryce opened the letterbox beneath that round window and shouted at the top of her voice “Mum, are you there?”

“They’re not in – neither of them” said the wife of the next-door neighbour on the left of her mum and dad’s home. She was leaning diagonally out of her front door. “Mr Pryce is at work, Mrs Pryce is visiting a friend of hers at Dunning Park, and their daughters don’t live here anymore.”

“I know – I’m the eldest. Wait, you weren’t living here when I moved out.”

The middle-aged woman’s expression became a less believing one.

“I moved in with my husband twelve months ago, and I don’t recall seeing you here in all that time. How do I know you’re who you say you are?”

She produced her ID card and showed it to the woman who harboured the suspicion Jade wasn’t who she was claiming to be. It barely satisfied the female neighbour: she gave DC Pryce a glance that exuded mistrust as she went back inside. When she was alone on the street, Jade jumped her memory back to what the lady living next door said about her mum calling on a mate of hers close to where Marcus’ house was. She was a little confused about the information she’d received. Janelle having a friend living in close proximity to her boyfriend was something she’d never expected to have known about.

“Odd! Why did mum never mention it?”

The question was the first thing she said to Donnie when he walked over to DC Pryce’s desk. Since he was no expert on her family life, he shrugged his shoulders – the most common way for a man to give an answer without actually saying a single word.

“Forget it then, Donnie.”

“Already deleted from my files up here” he said over-confidently, pointing to his head. “By the way, Jade, I think we may have an ID on the victim.”

“Did someone at the pub recognize her?”

“No, but a constable found her wallet on the pavement down Hartley Lane.”

“That’s only a block away from the city centre. When did he find it?”

“Just half an hour before you got here, Jade”

“It’s pedestrian rush hour about then! How did he manage to pick it up with loads of people surging around him?”

“I asked him about it when he handed it to the boss. He said it wasn’t that crowded this morning.”

“Unusual – I’ve driven round there, now and again. It’s normally teaming!”

“Well I don’t know about that, but I do know the boss wants to see you.”

“What about”

“You’ll have to ask him that.”

Where DCI Oliver was concerned, DC Pryce knew he didn’t share with others details of a mono-e-mono discussion with one of the officers under his command. Donnie turned his initial focus on a document on his desk that a constable had left there a few minutes ago.

Stewart’s office had two doors: one by which his subordinates came in and one by which they left. She had gotten them mixed up yesterday when she delivered the report on Carl Daniels’ arrest and she entered by the door used for exiting his office space. Jade didn’t repeat this error. She knocked on the left one and waited for DCI Oliver’s voice to give her the all clear to enter.

“Come in!”

His voice was less booming today. A voice in her head spoke, saying “Good mood alert! He’s had a breakthrough that might be positive.” She walked in and her mind instantly adjusted to the routine he had for anyone entering what he liked to call his work sanctuary.

“Take a seat.”

That general show of hospitality was stiffly-worded, but there was no background fierceness.

“What did you want to see me about?”

Instead of a spoken answer, Stewart pushed the deceased woman’s wallet over to the side of the desk Jade was seated at. She picked it up and rifled through it till she located the section that housed bank, credit, points and library cards. There were only six to be seen in those mini-pouches – two in each one. DC Pryce slid out the bank card used for getting money out of the hole-in-the wall machines and glanced at the foot of it. Her eyes widened in shock as she saw the name barely visibly printed near the bottom.

“Anna Stockley – that’s WPC Maitland’s older sister!”

“That’s why I wanted to see you.”

The DCI didn’t need to issue an order to Jade. Having him say the victim’s name was sufficient for her to comprehend the gravity of the situation.

“I’ll break the news to her, sir. Livy and I get on very well, almost like sisters, but don’t tell Sophie that if she should visit where I work. I’ll take PC Kishar with me, so she can cover for her at the crime scene.”

 

Dr. Silverdale gave WPC Maitland a smile that showed as much sympathy as his personality could manage. Olivia, however, didn’t express any sign that she’d acknowledged it. She didn’t have the face of a grief-stricken sibling, but Jade had spent her years as a constable understanding that sorrow had countless manifestations. It wasn’t her place to pass any kind of judgement on how someone should mourn. With Jade stood beside her, the 21 year-old WPC stared at the human-shaped sheet that lay on one of the mortuary slabs. No matter how many times Jade had done this with the relative of a murder victim, it still spooked her that there was someone who had been alive, just days before, was beneath the sheet.

“Are you sure you’re ready to do this?”

Olivia nodded. She’d been there doing what Jade was doing now, so she was using this experience to make her stronger.

“Go ahead, Maurice” said DC Pryce.

The top area of the sheet covering the head and neck was carefully pulled back. Maurice had done his best to remove the blood to make this process less traumatic. WPC Maitland nodded a second time,

“Yep,” she said “she always uses that turquoise lipstick.”

The identification of the victim over, Maurice placed the sheet back over Anna’s face.

“Where are the clothes Anna was wearing last night?” enquired Jade.

Dr Silverdale pointed to them without taking his eyes off the sheet shielding the rest of Anna’s body. Olivia walked over to where they’d been placed and picked up the jeans first. Her nostrils twitched as she tried to take in the odour they generated. Without warning, WPC Maitland fainted.

“Livy!” yelped Jade as she tried to support her friend and uniformed colleague. The policeman who’d first sealed the right-hand entrance to the yard at the rear of The Tiger & Swan was there to shoulder DC Pryce’s burden. He carried Olivia out of the mortuary, followed by Jade. A little while later, the male constable, whose name Jade was trying to remember, located three chairs placed horizontally side-by-side and laid her on this makeshift couch.

“I doubt she’ll be out cold for long, Jade” he evaluated. “It’s just the shock of this tragedy hitting her.”

“What do you think I should do?”

“Leave her here for a bit, and then get her home.”

Olivia came to again in the front passenger seat of DC Pryce’s car. She guessed why she was here, and didn’t need to ask for a reason.

“Sorry about that, Jade – it was the smell of her deodorant that made it real for me.”

“You’ve just lost your sister – the last thing you need to do is apologise to anyone, even me!”

“Go on, say it – I wasn’t bawling my eyes out or doing the usual grieving stuff!”

“I don’t want you being angry with yourself, Livy. You and I know what informing a family they’ve lost a loved one can entail.”

She patted Jade’s left knee by way of a thank you for reserving judgement. DC Pryce accepted the physical gesture, but felt it unnecessary. Frankly, she was devoid of any reactions that might be construed as being judgemental. “Let he who is without sin, cast the first stone” thought Jade. The replication of one Jesus’ sayings validated her unwillingness to come out with comments that didn’t take the wider picture into account. Yet, they were just a string of words to her. She didn’t have a religious upbringing. Her parents hated evangelism in all its forms and levels, but her mum’s side of the family contained relatives that forever seemed to be on the fence when it came to religion.

“I know you might not be up to it, Livy, but I need to ask you....”

“...some questions. Fire away!”

The junior officer made a conscious decision to deliberately infuse the questions with an informal tone. She wanted it to sound more like a relaxed conversation between two people who got on well with each other.

“Was Anna a regular at The Tiger & Swan?”

“Only on Thursday and Friday: making her turn up there on a day other than those two, kind of a strange thing for her to do. She tends to make a plan on when she goes out and where she likes to head out to.”

“So, her drinking there wasn’t out of her comfort zone?”

“Nope, it wasn’t”

“Did she go there with her husband?”

“She isn’t married, Jade! Did you not know that?”

“I didn’t, no. What about her surname?”

“Oh, that! She was the offspring of my mum’s first marriage to Paul Stockley.”

“How long were they married?”

“A couple of years: they didn’t fit...personality wise.”

“What was he like?”

“Mum said he’s the human equivalent of C3PO: human cyborg relations reached an all-time low.”

WPC Maitland had revealed a quality Jade found appealing: the healthy use of a humorous comment in the face of confronting loss. It was a part of DC Pryce’s own personality, and she was happy to see it in others. The slight difference between the two women was that Jade’s sense of humour could get darker than Olivia’s, and she had to tread carefully, now and again, so her mirth wasn’t displayed at the expense of someone else’s emotional fragility. She laughed, but in a contained way, not from the diaphragm. This meant it was focussed on Olivia’s remark, and not on the tragic circumstances that triggered the jokey statement.

“Why did Anna choose to live with her mum instead of her dad? She can only have been a couple of years old at the time.”

“Because he knows that his first daughter will probably to end up like his mother. I’m actually quoting the words he’d use. He’s a bit of a grammar freak!”

Jade reflected on how Anna had acted in public prior to her death. She was torn between confirming Paul’s prediction of his daughter’s future character and watering it down to make WPC Maitland believe she was being respectful of the dead. Olivia promptly read the internal conflict on her face as if she were staring at a paperback. She stepped in to make the revelation Jade had to say a little more free of guilt, once it was out there.

“Anna was being a chav, wasn’t she?”

“I’m afraid I did feel that she was showing herself up in front of the regulars, so did Frank.”

“It figures, Jade! Let me guess – was she on her mobile to someone before she was killed?”

“Yeah, but I don’t know the name of the person calling her though, Livy.”

“You can say it, Jade, I don’t mind.”

“I can say what?”

“What she called the bloke she was talking to. Was it tacky?”

“Yeah, Livy – it was!”

“Come on, let me have it!”

“Sugar-Butt”

“That is so Anna.”

Olivia realised her sudden but easy mistake. She rectified it swiftly.

“That was so Anna.”

She let a seven-second pause play out before adding “I take after my dad, Stephen”.

“Ah, that’s why you have the surname Maitland!”

“Yeah, he and Anna’s mum fell in love but, as yet, haven’t tied the knot. I came three years after they met.”

“Do you want me to break the news to your mum?”

“No, I’m geared up for it, Jade. It’ll be better coming from me than from a stranger.”

After nine minutes more travelling time, DC Pryce’s Avensis pulled up to the kerb outside No.17, Clayton Street. Stephen Maitland’s front door didn’t really stand out. The area around the letterbox smack in the middle was painted dark blue. There were no eye-catching features that made passers-by do a double-take; this probably made it one of the boring doors to look at of all time. The rest of the house’s frontal exterior was just as unremarkable. Jade couldn’t see future prospective buyers having the enthusiasm for surveying a property like this, if it became a photo in the window of an estate agent’s headquarters. WPC Maitland was about to open the front passenger door when her exit was purposely interrupted.

“Just before you go in there, I need to ask you a couple more questions.”

It was an eleventh hour consideration, but Jade had only just thought to ask them within the past minute. Olivia closed the door on her side, and endeavoured to listen.

“Did you ever see anyone following Anna around when the two of you were out and about?”

“No I didn’t, but then I never hung around her. She had her circle of friends and I had mine. Our social lives never clashed, no.”

“This may seem an odd thing to ask, but does any member of your family own a two-pronged implement in the house?”

WPC Maitland had to think this question through for a moment. There were so many utensils that might match that description she had to put in some extra effort into identifying one particular type. Memorising something that specific wasn’t so easy.

“The only item I can think of is a toasting fork. It went missing some days ago, but I don’t when or how!”

Olivia didn’t query its relevance. She knew that small, boring details had to be gathered up with the ones that reeked of having prime importance in an investigation. Finding the ones that guaranteed a route towards the perpetrator was quite often a lottery situation. There were no predicted odds laid down on what it might be. It was normally a question of putting the facts through a sieve and seeing which ones stayed inside it. She had a third question sprinting into her cranium, but pushed it to one side and allowed the bereaved female constable to tell her parents that Anna won’t be coming through the front door ever again. Olivia’s exit was absent of a meaningful exchange of glances with Jade. She didn’t want some final look of sympathy that wasn’t going to make the situation any better. DC Pryce changed gear and drove away as WPC Maitland psyched herself up for what she had to do.

 

Wanting to know why her mum had gone to Dunning Park without texting any of her family members, Jade took a detour to that residential area. She blamed her high level of curiosity on never guessing that Janelle had friends close by to where Marcus and Catherine spent their mornings and nights. Then she entertained the question as to whether her dad or Sophie had ever heard her mention these friends.

“I wonder what this family’s called” she said out loud, following it up with “I’ll know soon enough.”

She took a side-road that acted as a short-cut to the main road leading in. It merely snipped off less than six minutes, indicating the journey had not been reduced to the extent she hoped it had been. Raising the number of miles per hour only took off three minutes off and she was saddled with the notion she ought to have just taken the standard route regardless. She was two driveways along from her boyfriend’s house when she saw Janelle come out of No.2. The size of each residence lowered how many homes could be built on the land originally acquired for this housing project. There was only so much land they could cover, and when it was first built, streets, roads and paths leading to the surrounding streets had to be part of the architectural package. This permitted six houses with that much interior space to be constructed, and it was costly to achieve this. The price of each property had to refund the money invested into building them. The second of these houses had been purchased by the family that her mum had befriended. She heard Janelle call the woman in her late thirties she was stood opposite, Cynthia. Jade parked her car behind a hedge, just out of view of Marcus’ front windows, and crossed the top ridge of one of the speed bumps to get to the driveway belonging to Cynthia’s husband.

“Hi, love!” said Janelle as Jade approached the house.

“Hi mum! You never said you’d be here.”

“Are you here to see Marcus?”

“No, I know he’s working at the hospital until the usual time.”

“So what does bring you here then, love?”

“The suspicious wife of your next door neighbour told me I’d find you here. Dad has the car: did you get a cab here?”

“Yes. I thought that you were going to ring me when you got home, Jade. What on earth happened?”

“Someone got killed as I was about to leave The Tiger & Swan.”

“That’s awful! Who was it?”

“Anna Stockley.”

“I know that name: wasn’t she one of Paul Stockley’s daughters?”

“The only one: I found out that Anna was actually WPC Maitland’s half-sister.”

“God, that kind of puts it closer to home!”

“To a degree, mum, yeah.”

“Were she and Anna close?”

“Not from the way Olivia was talking, but I think half-sisters aren’t that willing to bond with one another...probably less so than conventional siblings.”

“You’d be surprised.”

“I doubt it, mum! Remember what happened with Sally and Mia Brandon seventeen months ago.”

“I do” said Cynthia, waiting for Janelle to offer up an introduction. “Sibling rivalry doesn’t get that fierce round here. And you are?”

“Oh sorry, Cynthia” said Janelle in a flustered tone. “Where’s my head at? This is my eldest daughter, Jade. She’s a Detective Constable.”

“What case are you on at the moment?” enquired Cynthia, whilst half-looking at Janelle.

“Investigating the suspicious death of a woman called Anna Stockley.”

“She wouldn’t be any relation to Paul Stockley, would she?”

“Yeah, she’s his daughter. How do you know him?”

“He’s our solicitor.”

“Excuse me?”

“All the homeowners round here are his clients.”

“That’s an unusual set-up, Mrs...”

“Mrs Loomis.”

“What’s your husband called?”

“His name’s Gerald” Janelle said to her daughter, characteristically answering the question aimed at Cynthia. “They’ve got two kids – Malcolm, nineteen, and Judy, seventeen.”

Jade listened to the reply and then her eyes latched onto a path that ran down the centre of the channel between the Loomis’s house and Catherine’s. She stood at the entrance, seeing where it led whoever used this route to exit Dunning Park. The farthest thing she could see was a subway heading under a section of a main road, but her eyes couldn’t make out what was beyond that.

“Where does that subway go to, Cynthia?” asked Jade.

“It connects with a street that takes pedestrians to the back of that pub I heard you mention.”

“The Tiger & Swan”

“I’ve got that book you wanted to borrow” said Gerald as he walked out onto his driveway. “You can return it anytime you...”

He spotted Jade and asked Cynthia for an introduction.

“This is Detective Constable Jade Pryce – Janelle’s eldest child.”

“Did I see you here yesterday evening?” asked Gerald, before shaking her hand.

“Yeah, my boyfriend lives here. You probably know him – Marcus...”

“Cartwright: yes of course we know him, don’t we darling!”

He shook her hand but gained a puzzled expression, which spread to Cynthia’s face when she remembered to do the same. Janelle didn’t register the odd look they gave one another, though.

“My wife said you’re a Detective Constable. Are you in the middle of a case?”

“At the start of one, actually – I just weighed anchor here to find out whether my mum wanted a lift back; then I’m off to speak to your solicitor.”

“Paul Stockley! How is he involved in this investigation?”

“He’s not, as far as I’m aware: I have some sad news to break to him,.”

Cynthia immediately repeated what Jade had said to her minutes ago about Anna. Gerald summed the matter up in his mind privately, but skipped past talking about it in detail. He drove the conversation back to her being Marcus’ girlfriend.

“I’m surprised that he hasn’t talked about you about Catherine’s bridge evenings.”

“You attend then?”

“Yes – so does Cynthia, Malcolm and Judy.”

“Kicking and screaming, I’ll bet” said Jade.

“No, quite willingly” said Malcolm as he stepped from behind where his father stood.

He and his sister had emerged from their home when they’d found the front door was letting in the outside air and the sound of voices. Hearing Jade’s comment, Malcolm had decided to substantiate his father’s claim about his offspring’s attendance. DC Pryce’s eyebrows pointed downward to her eyelids on both sides and said “Seriously, Mal, you like going to Cathy’s Bridge evening!”

“It’s a fascinating game” added Judy.

Her voice was purring as she declared as much fondness for it as her brother and parents. DC Pryce studied Judy’s golden hair and Malcolm’s brown locks until Janelle announced that she had some shopping to do and she needed her daughter’s assistance in getting her there.

“It’s time I was getting on with things too” declared Jade. “It was interesting to have met you all: you’ll doubtless see me here again around five this afternoon when I visit Marcus.”

“Ah,” said Gerald “you want to spend a bit more time with him.”

Whilst still smiling at Janelle, Cynthia gave her husband a kick on his right leg. Jade took stock of this minor act of violence but kept quiet about what she’d noticed.

“The paving stones can be slippery” said Gerald in response to his wife’s action.

Janelle and her daughter waved to them as they got into Jade’s car. She was less interested in making any additional eye-contact with the Loomis family then her mum was.

The conversational piece Janelle contributed to the car journey to where she wanted to be dropped off was all one-way. She was in the midst of repeating cooking tips that Cynthia had given her, when she finally acknowledged Jade hadn’t said anything about the family they’d met.

“Why haven’t you said anything about Gerald, Cynthia and their kids?”

“I don’t know, mum – why didn’t you tell me, dad or Sophie about your friends?”

“Michael has friends he never tells me about – the same with Sophie, and probably with you as well. Don’t you think I’m entitled to that too?”

“The difference is that their mates and mine are normal.”

“I thought you weren’t the judgemental type.”

“Usually I’m not, mum.”

“If that’s the case, why are you being judgemental about them?”

“Because I think they’re over-selling the upper middle-class lifestyle to you.”

“That’s too cynical, even for you, Jade.”

“No, it’s not, mum!”

“Where are you going with this?”

“I’ve done my fair share of door-to-door enquiries. Whenever I go into a family house with teenagers between 15 and 19 inside, they are doing three things, mum: texting their friends, surfing porn on the net and playing ultra-violent games on their PS3s. What they don’t do is attend Bridge evenings? That’s something out of the early Fifties!”

“Just come to the point” Janelle demanded sharply.

The greeting “love” she’d given to her first-born back outside Gerald’s house had taken a short recess. Her tone was getting more argumentative.

“They’re taking the piss, mum: it’s just them showing off a way of life that they want you to buy into.”

“Maybe Malcolm and Judy do actually like participating in their parents’ activities.”

“Christ, mum! You’re even starting to sound like them – the Basildon Brady Bunch!”

“Right, Jade, stop the car”

“What?”

“You heard me – stop the car! You’re obviously pissed off about something, so you’re insulting my mates! I’d rather walk from here, if that’s going to be your attitude towards them! Is it any wonder I didn’t tell you!”

One after the other, Jade and Janelle said “Fine” with as much stroppiness as they could slot into that single word. Finding a safe place to momentarily park, Jade leaned over, unfastened her mum’s safety belt and opened the door.

“Don’t forget to buy some Venison while you’re at it, mum!”

Janelle said nothing back to Jade and walked off towards a pedestrian crossing, still in a huff. Jade slammed the door and then rejoined the line of traffic along the road she stopped at the side of.