Broken (41 page)

She knew about police brutality; it was a fact of life where she came from. Something to be discussed when talking about their nickings and their prison terms. Natasha had thought she was immune, and was suddenly conscious of the fact that she wasn’t. She looked absolutely terrified.

‘Don’t wind me up, girl. I am on a short fuse and every time you open that ignorant mouth of yours the fuse gets shorter. Do not even attempt to take the piss out of me, lady, or I will rip your head off and ram it right up your jacksy!’

Natasha was really crying now and neither Kate nor Jenny felt any sympathy for her.

‘I want a brief,’ she whimpered.

‘Well, you’ll know what it’s like to want then, won’t you?’ Kate said cruelly.

Natasha cried harder.

 

Willy stared around him in surprise.

Jacky and Joey were lying trussed up on the floor. After another two days of being tied up himself he had just been given a few sandwiches, a Thermos flask of tea laced with whisky and they had removed the ropes that had bound him.

As he sat waiting patiently for the numbness in his hands to subside, and the painful and tormenting pins and needles to arrive, he studied the two men who were gazing fearfully up at him from the floor.

Jacky was near to tears and Willy sneered at him. He was trying to rub his hands together to bring the circulation back as fast as possible. As he did so he spoke to the two men in a low sing-song voice.

‘I’m going to enjoy meself, lads, and it will be at your expense.’

He was talking like a man who knows he is fully in control.

‘I can smell me sandwiches, lads. Beef and tomato, cheese and cucumber. Know how to look after you, the Ruskies, eh? But then, you two treacherous bastards would already know about that, wouldn’t you? Having tucked up everyone while you worked for them yourselves.’

He kicked out with one bare foot at Jacky’s head, the blow landing hard and giving Willy total satisfaction.

‘Where’s all your mates now, then? Ain’t got so much trap when you’re on your Jack Jones, have you?’ He was winding himself up now, aware that the Russians were either watching it all or listening in somehow. He knew he was being used by them and was glad of the fact.

‘Enjoy tucking me and Pat up, did you? I bet you and Tommy Broughton pissed yourselves laughing at us, eh? Well, there’s an old saying: God pays back debts without money. And look at what’s happened here. You two have dropped into my lap like manna from fucking heaven and once my hands have a bit of feeling in them, I am going to take the pair of you apart.’

He laughed again and Jacky and Joey closed their eyes in despair.

Willy Gabney was a nutter of the first order. He was also Patrick Kelly’s oldest friend.

They were dead men and they knew it.

 

‘So come on, Tash, cut the waterworks and tell us the truth.’

Kate and Jenny had let her cry for a while, both sitting absolutely still, their eyes trained on her. It was a good act she put on, but an act all the same.

Eventually she picked up her cigarettes from the floor and amid much sniffing and coughing she lit one. Drawing the smoke deep into her lungs, she muttered, ‘You bastards, you’ve always had it in for me.’

Kate rolled her eyes at the ceiling. ‘Oh, change the bloody record for Christ’s sake. No one has it in for you. The reason you are here, Tash, is because you allowed your kids to be used for degrading and immoral purposes. You were the cause of David nearly killing his father; you have made us have to arrest a man who unlike you is a decent and productive member of society. Thanks to you and Kerry Alston, we are having to put beautiful children into care and arrest their so-called mothers. So if that is having it in for you then yes, perhaps you were right. But I will get to the bottom of this, Tash. If I have to keep you here all night then I will.’

Natasha drew deeply on her cigarette once more.

‘When was the last time you saw DI Barker then?’ Both women watched as Tash’s face blanched.

‘What you on about? I ain’t seen him in years.’ Bravado was back in the voice now.

‘That’s not true and you know it.’

‘If Bateman has been spinning you a line then you better watch out. Always had it in for me, him. Fucking big poof he is. Mincing round the place as if his shit don’t stink and all!’

‘What made you put Bateman’s name up over Barker? Where is the connection?’

She shook her head as if they were stupid. ‘Everyone knows Bateman hates him. They knew one another years ago. Bateman’s like you, thinks everyone’s a nonce.’

Jenny laughed. ‘You mean you’re
not
nonces - is that what you are saying? You gave your kids to a strange bird who put make-up on them and dressed them up as little women for photos and you see nothing noncey in that? Am I missing something here? Please explain to me the logic that you seem to live by.’

Natasha shook her head at the apparent skulduggery of the two women before her. ‘You ain’t putting words in my mouth.’ She pointed a smoking hand at them, waving the cigarette around as she spoke. ‘You two will have to get up very early in the morning to catch me.’

‘Depends what you call early. From your social worker’s notes that means us getting up before bloody lunchtime, love. Not too difficult, eh?’

Jenny laughed at Kate’s exclamation and Natasha shook her head again, her ridiculous hair flying around her face.

‘You will get nothing from me. I don’t care what you say or what you threaten. I ain’t seen Barker for years and I know nothing about him. Now I want a fucking brief.’

‘What about Suzy Harrington?’ Jenny rapped out. ‘I heard she is involved in all this. Still mates with Barker, is she?’

‘Suzy who?’ Natasha’s voice was full of wonderment as if the name was completely alien to her. ‘Sorry, ladies, you’ve lost me. Never heard of her.’

‘You are a liar and you know it.’

The girl shrugged. ‘Sticks and stones, darlin’, never hurt no one.’ She was playing with them.

‘Now, as I said before, I am entitled to legal representation,’ she burst out. ‘It’s in the fucking Magna Carta or somewhere, innit? So until I have a brief I am going to shut me bleeding trap - OK? I stand by what I said. A bird I didn’t know asked to borrow me kids. It’s no different to a burglar saying he bought a video or a telly in a pub off a geezer. You can’t prove otherwise. If you could I would have been properly nicked and you two could go home and scratch your bleeding fannies.’

What she said was true and it hurt hearing it.

Jenny stood up and looked down at the smiling girl.

The blow took them all by surprise.

As Natasha was knocked from her chair to the floor she burned herself with her cigarette. She sat on the floor sucking on the burn, the smile still on her face. She looked into Kate’s eyes.

‘You two can’t scare me,’ she said triumphantly. ‘Bear that in mind - you
can’t
scare me. I will stand by what I said. I made a mistake and I am paying for it. I let me kids go off with an unknown woman and I will pay for that piece of stupidity. But that is as far as it goes. You can’t prove fuck all.’

Jenny moved towards her and Kate pulled her back. A good hiding was exactly what Natasha wanted, and as much as she would like to oblige, she knew it would be madness.

 

Barbara Epstein knocked on the door loudly. Then, kneeling down, she opened the letterbox. A strange smell assailed her nostrils and she jerked her head back quickly. It was a sweet smell, like rotting leaves.

She stood up and looked around the lobby of the flats. Then, walking down the stairs, she knocked at a red front door with a well-polished brass knocker.

An elderly woman answered her knock.

‘Have you seen Sharon from upstairs?’ Barbara asked her anxiously. ‘Sharon Pallister?’

The woman seemed to be in her seventies and her hair was a startling blue, her lips smeared with orange-coloured lipstick. She shook her head.

‘I assume she’s away. You normally hear that bleeding kid, but it’s been quiet. So I think she has gone to her mum’s. She does that sometimes.’

Barbara looked worried. ‘I am her mum. I can’t get her on the phone.’

‘Oh, it’s you phoning all hours of the day and night, is it? I can hear that bleeding phone as if it’s in my own flat.’

The woman’s voice was a relentless moan and, closing her eyes, Barbara interrupted her.

‘I’ve travelled down from Edinburgh to try and see what has happened to my daughter. Do you know anyone who might have news of her?’

The woman shook her alarming head once more.

‘Try one of the other unmarried mothers. Like a bleeding club round here it is, None of them married . . . it’s a disgrace.’

The door slammed in Barbara’s face. She turned to the one opposite then, taking a deep breath and knocking gently. It was opened by a small boy with fair hair and startling green eyes. He looked to be all of four.

‘Me mum says she ain’t in.’

Barbara nearly smiled then. ‘Tell your mum, it’s Sharon’s mummy. Sharon from upstairs.’

A girl walked out into the small hallway. She had black hair in a long plait over one shoulder and even greener eyes than the child.

‘Oh, hello. I thought you was the tally man come for his money, and I’m boracic at the moment. Come in, love.’

Her voice was harsh but friendly and Barbara walked in gratefully, even though the flat was hot and had a strange smell. As she entered the lounge she realised the smell came from a mixture of dirt and fresh paint. The kitchen, a shambles of boxes and tins, was in the process of being painted bright yellow. But the girl was so pleasant and Barbara was so tired from her journey that she accepted the offer of a cup of tea gratefully.

‘How is Sharon?’ the girl asked.

Barbara looked at her fearfully. ‘I’ve just travelled from Scotland to see her. I can’t get her on the phone and I’m really worried.’

The girl frowned. ‘I assumed she had gone to see you again. Keeps herself to herself she does. Not a bad judge round here, I can tell you. Perhaps Suzy knows where she is, I know they’re mates.’

‘Where does this Suzy live?’

‘Drink up and I’ll take you over there, all right?’

Barbara nodded. ‘Look, have you seen my Sharon in the last few days?’

‘I ain’t seen her for about a week, now you mention it. I ain’t heard little Trevor neither. And he is one noisy little sod.’ She was chuckling. ‘He’s a case him, ain’t he?’

Barbara nodded but a terrible feeling was taking hold inside her. Opening her bag, she took out a mobile phone.

‘I am going to phone the police,’ she said shakily. ‘I think my daughter has met with an accident or something. It’s not like her to disappear like this.’

The girl shrugged and picked up a baby with a dirty nappy and a gummy smile. ‘Round here, love, anything can happen to you . . .’ She regretted the words when she saw Barbara’s worried countenance.

‘Yeah, you phone the Old Bill if it will make you feel better,’ she said kindly. ‘At least that way you’ll feel like you’re doing something, eh?’

Barbara nodded, but the fear was growing stronger now and as she looked around the cramped flat and smelt that strange smell she was reminded of the one from her daughter’s home.

It was sweetly rotten, like something had died. Oh Christ. She could feel hysteria mounting inside her. Sharon had been a difficult girl but never a bad one and she knew how much her mother worried about her. Whatever arguments they had had over the years, and they had been legion, Barbara knew that her daughter would not leave her all this time without getting in touch, because she knew she would be worrying.

As the girl got out a cold bottle of milk from the fridge to feed her baby Barbara was talking to the police. Turning off her phone she said quietly, ‘They’re on their way.’

Now that she had rung them she wasn’t at all sure she wanted to know what was in her daughter’s flat. She had a bad feeling about it. Had done for the last forty-eight hours.

She sipped tea from a grubby mug and watched the baby suck its milk with relish. It took her mind off what she was thinking at the back of her mind.
Sharon was dead, and so was her grandson
.

It wasn’t a conscious thought, but it was there nonetheless.

Barbara was mentally preparing herself without actually admitting the fact that deep in her guts she knew it to be true.

 

Suzy Harrington sat on her leather sofa and raised one eyebrow as DC Golding told her she was under arrest.

‘I beg your pardon?’

‘We have reason to believe that you are using children from this estate for the purposes of immoral and degrading literature. You have the right to remain silent . . .’

She laughed scornfully. ‘Fuck off.’

Getting up, she went into her bedroom and slipped on an expensive suede coat. Then she said snidely, ‘I just have to make a call, OK?’

She dialled a number and after a few seconds said: ‘I am on my way to Grantley Police Station, accused of child pornography.’ Then she replaced the phone quickly.

She did not say another word all afternoon.

 

Kate took a call from her mother and relaxed slightly. Patrick was over the worst. All they could do now was wait, apparently. As she sat at her desk, face lined with tiredness and hands trembling, she received a summons to Ratchette’s office. Her mind on Patrick, she assumed the Chief Inspector would want an update on his progress.

Instead he was standing by his window stiff-backed. He didn’t turn to face her as she waited in his office like a schoolgirl in trouble with the headmaster.

‘I’ve had a call from Above and they have told me that you are to let Suzy Harrington go without further discussion.’

Kate thought for a few seconds that the lack of sleep had affected her hearing. ‘I beg your pardon?’