A Velvet Scream (28 page)

Clara just laughed. ‘They don't even look human, Inspector Piercy. More like someone from
Dr Who
.' She laughed but it quickly turned to tears as she put a hand on each of the photofits. ‘You think one of
these
has her?'

Joanna put her hand out. ‘We don't know,' she said, ‘yet.'

The girl's face looked sad and hopeless and Joanna saw that underneath the bravado, the snobbery and the front Clara was worried, unhappy and now hurt because Molly, her friend, her best friend, had not confided in her. She felt a wash of sympathy.

‘OK, Clara,' she said softly. ‘You can go now. But I just want to say something.'

The girl lifted her eyes.

‘This isn't your fault, you know.'

‘No?'

‘No. Whatever Molly did, it isn't your fault.'

The girl gave a meaningful glance at the teacher, which Joanna interpreted correctly. ‘You want to speak to me alone?'

‘Please.'

The teacher was short, plump; in her forties with a calm, intelligent face. ‘If that's what you want, Clara,' she said, ‘that's fine.' She smiled at her pupil, then at Joanna and left the room.

When the door had shut behind her Clara spoke. ‘There was one guy,' she said. ‘He was there on Friday and I have seen him before.'

‘Was he there the night Kayleigh was assaulted too?'

‘I think so. I couldn't swear to it, though.'

‘Did he look like any of the pictures?'

‘Not really. But he was sort of confident, a bit older and he asked us if we wanted anything.'

Joanna lifted her eyebrows.

‘I thought he meant drugs, Ecstasy or something like that. I looked at Moll and I shook my head but she didn't. Later I saw her talking to him and I was worried.'

‘What did he look like?'

‘Brown hair, tallish, slimish. He had a sort of cheeky face and a confident smile.'

‘Age?'

‘He was about thirty, I think.'

‘Would you know him again?'

‘I don't know.'

‘What was he wearing?'

Joanna risked a look at Korpanski and gave a slight nod. This was her man. Not shadowy or insubstantial any more. It was a solid lead which Clara had kept back until the affair with a married man had come out. Then her loyalty had snapped. She thanked the girl, resisting the temptation to ask her why she had kept this important detail back for five whole days and she and Mike left.

They picked up some sandwiches at the BP filling station and arrived back at the station. Joanna shut the door on their office. She wanted to speak to Korpanski alone.

‘Mike,' she said slowly, ‘I'm beginning to understand why this case is proving so difficult. Three young girls: teenagers, all of them clubbing. One dies, another is found almost dead, the other one is currently missing. Naturally we have threaded the three cases together.'

Korpanski nodded.

‘But what if they are not connected, not even three crimes – rather three separate incidents, the only connection being the obvious ones: girls, clubs, alcohol, sex. Should we have dealt with it like that?'

Korpanski frowned. ‘It was a natural way to go, Jo,' he said. ‘So will it lead us to Molly?'

‘Oh, I think so, eventually. We'll get there, Mike, in the end. A few phone calls, a few more interviews, some surprises, some shocks. At the end of this case,' she said prophetically, ‘some people will be happy, even, while others will be sad.'

Korpanski eyed her sceptically. ‘You can't know all that, Jo. You're not a prophetess.'

She laughed. ‘No, I'm not, but I can pretend.'

Korpanski took advantage of her mood. ‘Still dreading the wedding?'

She shook her head. ‘Not any more.' She reached for the phone, dialled and waited until she heard the voice at the other end of the line. ‘Mr Ollerenshaw, you should have told me that Peter Harrison had been visiting you regularly in Leek.'

‘I couldn't see what it could have to do with that but I knew you'd try and make a connection.'

‘I have, Mr Ollerenshaw. Believe me, I have. But it would have helped us if you'd come clean with us from the first.'

After she put the phone down she looked at Mike. ‘Fancy a trip to the Potteries?'

He grinned. ‘Do I have a choice?'

For answer she unhooked her coat from the hook.

‘Are you going to tell me where we're headed?'

‘I thought we'd visit Danielle Brixton's mother. I've rung her and she's agreed to speak to us.'

Korpanski was silent for most of the journey into the Potteries but eventually he couldn't resist asking, ‘Whatever for?'

She took her eyes off the road. ‘Wait and see.'

There was a prolonged, further grumpy silence before Korpanski said, ‘You're not supposed to do that, Jo.'

‘Do what?'

‘Keep me in the dark.'

She gave him a sideways glance. ‘I'm keeping you in the dark, Mike, because I am. Not because I'm playing some sort of a game.'

‘Right.' Accepting that he folded his arms and settled back in his seat.

Danielle had lived in a sold-off council estate in Knutton, an area of Stoke-on-Trent which years ago had supplied miners to the nearby Silverdale Colliery. Now the area was rundown and slightly depressing.

Danielle's mother proved to be a small woman with faded blonde hair and a coarse expression. But she still looked too young to have had her daughter die in such a way.

Joanna introduced herself and Mike, flashed the obligatory ID and Shirley Brixton led them inside a small room scented with plug-in fresheners which barely masked the smell of cigarettes.

Joanna opened the interview. ‘Mrs Brixton, I'm sorry for your loss.'

Shirley Brixton managed a tight smile. ‘I'm getting used to it,' she said, ‘believe it or not. When bereavement counselling told me I would I didn't believe them. But it's true.'

‘Did Danielle have a boyfriend?'

The woman sniffed. ‘My girl's dead,' she said in a flat, wooden voice. ‘What good can any of this do now? She wasn't murdered Inspector; she just died of neglect.' She sniffed. ‘No one even cared enough to get her to a hospital.'

There was no answer to this.

Shirley Brixton continued gently. ‘I can't see how it'll help you find your girl, Inspector.'

‘Maybe not,' Joanna agreed. ‘We'll see. Thank you for your time.'

Danielle's mother smiled. ‘It's OK,' she said. ‘I did warn her, you know. I told her she was too young to go out clubbing.' She paused. ‘And she was, wasn't she? She weren't up to the sophistication of the men there. They was older. She didn't understand what she'd got herself into. Alcohol, maybe drugs.'

There was no fair answer to that so Joanna simply nodded non-committally.

She glanced at Korpanski. He was sitting with a wooden expression on his face, staring straight ahead of him. Then he turned his head, caught Joanna's glance and made an expression of resignation together with a twitch of his hands. It was his way of asking,
So what have we achieved, coming here, raking over cold ashes?
She smiled back at him.

‘We're getting close, Mike,' she said on the way home.

‘The thing is, Jo, do you believe Harrison's story?'

‘Call me naive,' she responded, ‘but yes. I do. I think it's the truth. Rather strange; a bit of a coincidence, but the truth.'

He nodded and made no comment.

‘And Salena's story?'

Korpanski looked enquiringly at her and she gave him an explanation – of sorts.

‘The married man thing is a great way to stop your girl talking, Mike. It makes monkeys out of the women. They give them sex, everything, and get nothing back. It keeps them secretive and the man safe.'

‘Ah,' Korpanski said.

‘Let's get the birthday boys back in – all of them – separately. And we'll start with Steve Shand, finder of the body.'

TWENTY

S
teve Shand sauntered in, hands in pockets, attempting nonchalance but only succeeding in looking shifty and very uneasy. He spread his hands palms downwards flat on the table and bent forwards. ‘I know you're going to try and pin this on me,' he said, ‘just because I was the one who found Kayleigh. But I don't know anything about Molly Carraway. I promise.' He spoke earnestly, his eyes meeting Joanna's full force. His expression might be bland, she reflected, but there was a suppressed anger too. He smelt faintly of a rather pleasant spicy deodorant which emphasized his very maleness.

Joanna had already decided to give the birthday boys a rough ride. A very rough ride. ‘But you were there on the night Molly disappeared?'

‘Yeah, but I was with my girlfriend.' A wry smile. ‘She wasn't going to let me out on my own again so I had to take her along.'

True love,
Joanna thought.
And an alibi.

‘Do you remember Molly on Friday? She was wearing a very noticeable bright red dress.'

‘I've already said I remember her.'

Joanna smiled and caught Korpanski's eye.

‘So let's return to Kayleigh Harrison, shall we? You danced with
her
the night she was allegedly raped.' She was aware that the bald statement sounded very like an accusation.

‘I've already admitted that,' Shand muttered sulkily. ‘She danced with just about everyone that night. Not just me, you know.'

‘And Molly?'

Shand looked surprised. ‘Was she there that night?'

‘Yes.' Joanna looked down at her notes, ‘wearing “jeggings” and a white crop top.'

Shand looked half interested. ‘I do remember somebody dressed like that,' he said. ‘She wasn't half going it on the dance floor.'

‘Alone?'

Shand frowned. ‘Sort of. She didn't seem to be with anyone particular. There was just a crowd of people all dancin', not necessarily together.'

‘Did you dance with her that night?'

‘I don't know. I don't really remember whether I did or not. I don't keep a tab on every girl I have a dance with. You kind of move around the room. And Claire was there.' His brow was wrinkled as he eyed Joanna dubiously. ‘Know what I mean?'

‘Yes.' She hesitated. ‘Can you answer me something, Steve?'

Shand looked wary.

‘When you first noticed Kayleigh, the morning you found her, did you recognize her?'

Shand shook his head. ‘No,' he said. ‘A girl shimmyin' around the dance floor in a silver skirt looks nothing like a half-dead body slumped by a bin, half her clothes missin.'

‘But you saw the silver skirt?'

He nodded. ‘I still didn't make the connection – not until later.'

‘And when you saw her that snowy morning, was your first thought that she had been raped?'

‘I don't know.' He obviously hadn't thought of this. ‘No. Yes.' He met Joanna's eyes. ‘I really don't know,' he said. ‘She looked – abandoned, rather than sexy.'

She smiled at him. ‘OK,' she said, ‘Thanks. You can go.'

‘So who's next, Mike?'

Shaun Hennessey was finding it hard to contain his anger. He came blasting in, all guns blazing.

‘What's the idea, dragging me in here again? I don't know nothing about this bird who's gone missing. Understand? I didn't even know her.'

‘Think again, Mr Hennessey,' Joanna said icily, making no attempt at politeness or even civility. ‘Either you or one of your buddies has something to do with this girl's,' she jabbed Molly's picture, ‘disappearance. So either you tell me what you know or we shall keep you here for as long as it takes. Understand?'

Hennessey was not intimidated. ‘I understand perfectly,' he said. ‘But we weren't the only guys there that night on the prowl, you know. I don't know why you keep coming back to us.'

‘Well, it was one of your buddies who discovered Kayleigh,' Joanna said smoothly.

Hennessey was dismissive. ‘That doesn't mean anything,' he said contemptuously.

‘You can't pin anything on me or my mates. I saw the girls. OK? I had a few dances with the one you call Molly, the girl in the red dress, but I did not abduct her or rape her or anything else.' He spread his hands out wide. ‘I didn't even know her name until the story broke.'

‘And what about Kayleigh Harrison?'

‘What about Kayleigh Harrison?' Hennessey's lip curled. ‘She was a little slapper. Pissed as a fart and offering herself to all and sundry. I wouldn't be surprised if any one of the fellows there that night would have raped her. She was so –' his face made an expression of disgust – ‘available. You can't blame a guy for takin' what's offered to him on a plate, you know.'

‘And abandoning her?' Joanna felt her anger brewing up. ‘Leaving her to die?'

‘It wasn't me,' Hennessey said, quiet again now, as though he sensed her hostility.

Joanna leaned back in her chair. ‘So who was it?'

‘I don't know.'

‘OK, let's leave it at that and move on to something or someone else, shall we? We have a witness who says that Molly Carraway was having an affair with a married man.'

Instantly Hennessey looked wary.

‘You're almost married,' Korpanski put in – right on cue.

But Hennessey merely shook his head. ‘I wasn't having an affair with Molly Carraway or Kayleigh or anyone else,' he said baldly.

‘So who was?'

‘Why are you picking on me and my mates?' he asked again. ‘There were plenty of other guys in the club that night. Why us?'

‘A feeling,' Joanna replied. ‘Just a feeling.'

Hennessey met her eyes without flinching. ‘You're never going to make a charge stick on a “feeling”,' he jeered. ‘You're police. Not bloody clairvoyants.'

Joanna ignored the jibe and changed tack. ‘Molly Carraway's parents are going spare,' she said quietly. ‘They don't even know if their daughter's dead or alive. Have some pity on them, Shaun.'