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.