DS Jessica Daniel series: Think of the Children / Playing with Fire / Thicker Than Water – Books 4–6 (88 page)

Jessica drank half of what was in the glass and then stared into the remaining brown liquid, her head spinning. She hadn’t expected this.

‘They both quit at the same time,’ Nicholas said suddenly. He was trying to force himself back onto the stool he had previously given up on and looked as if he could collapse to the
floor at any moment. Eventually he abandoned the idea, leaning against a sink at the back of the bar. ‘I checked my files and they both left together.’

‘On the same day?’

Nicholas shrugged. ‘I suppose.’

Jessica knew they had left at roughly the same time but this was the first she’d heard about them going together as neither Eleanor nor Kayleigh had volunteered that. She wondered if they
had been deliberately evasive and, if so, whether that had somehow cost Kayleigh her life.

‘Do you remember them?’

‘I always remember the pretty ones.’

Nicholas was slurring his words further. Instead of sounding sinister, it was pathetic. Jessica felt a rush of confidence. ‘What do you know about them now?’

He shook his head dismissively. ‘Nothing, the minute they walk, they’re dead to me.’

An unfortunate choice of words, Jessica thought. ‘Why did they leave at the same time?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Was it something to do with you?’

Nicholas tried to meet Jessica’s gaze but she could see his eyelids drooping. ‘I always look after my own.’

‘What sort of job would they have been doing in your casino?’

‘All they had to do was keep the punters inside.’

‘How did they manage to do that?’

Jessica wasn’t sure if she wanted to know the answer but it came anyway. ‘They just had to look pretty. You’d be amazed by how long you can keep someone interested and spending
money if there’s a short skirt involved.’ He paused, giggling: ‘Maybe you can ask your fella about that? Is he a leg man? Breast?’

She picked up her drink and finished the rest in one, not wanting to think about Adam. ‘If that was the case, how come you closed the place a few years later?’

Jessica could tell Nicholas was angry because he tried to speak quickly but his words skewed into each other, becoming a rant about regulations, the council and ‘you lot’.

‘Did you pay them well?’ Jessica asked, trying to bring the conversation back to the women.

She was now feeling so self-assured that she shifted from her stool into a standing position but instantly realised it was a mistake, having to put both hands on the bar to stop herself
stumbling. Nicholas noticed and she could see him smiling, although he wasn’t moving very much either. Jessica tightly gripped the rail that ran around the bar and steadied herself but it was
too late and the room was spinning. She tried to focus on the same bottle as before, telling herself it was upside down and that her head would clear if she could only distinguish the letters.
Instead, she could barely figure out which bottle was which among the row of optics.

She glanced across to see if Nicholas had noticed but he seemed to be swaying too, although Jessica couldn’t tell for sure if that was him or her. She knew it was time to leave and took
one step towards the ramp that led back to the reception area but her feet felt sluggish and unresponsive. The bright green fire exit sign above the door in the distance gave her something to head
for, even though the grey mist was swirling around her vision.

‘Where are you going?’

Jessica could hear Nicholas calling behind her but didn’t look back as there was a crash of something, or someone, falling to the floor. Instead, she focused on the sign, walking as
quickly as her head would allow.

Jessica tapped her pocket to ensure her phone was still there, fumbling as she tried to remove it. She allowed herself to bump shoulder-first into the wall of the corridor that led outside. She
couldn’t figure out a way to make her fingers fit into the pocket of her jacket and gave up, instead using them to feel her way towards the door.

It was silent behind her as Jessica’s hands closed around the door handle and pulled it towards her. As she opened the door, she thought the outside air might help clear her head but it
had the opposite effect, the chill hitting her hard and making everything whirl again.

Jessica staggered away from the club, unable to recall if she closed the door, but remembering the sensation of the cool glass on her fingers. She used her hands to trace the brickwork and
windows of the nearby buildings until eventually she found herself in the public square. The cobbles were rough under her feet and the hum of shoppers hurrying through the streets made her feel
even dizzier. As she tried to sit on one of the benches, Jessica felt as if she was falling, hanging onto the wooden back for support, before finally managing to settle. She could see the outlines
of people: grey bustling dreamlike shapes, but nothing was in focus.

Trying again, Jessica finally managed to pull her phone out of her pocket. The screen was painfully bright and her fingers wouldn’t do what her brain was telling them to. It took what
seemed like an age of pressing the wrong buttons before she finally managed to call Izzy.

By the time she had lifted the phone to her ear, the other woman was already talking to her. ‘Jess?’

‘Izzzzzzzz . . .’

Even through her smog of thoughts, Jessica could tell the constable was frantic. ‘Are you okay? I’ve been waiting for your call to say you were out and was about to tell
Jack.’

Jessica took a few moments to take in the string of words. She knew things were bad when she could hear herself slurring a reply. ‘I’m at Albert Square, come get me.’

The beeping of the alarm on Jessica’s phone made her jump awake as she instinctively reached towards the bedside table to turn it off. The moment she moved a stinging
sensation thundered through her head. She scrambled around the surface of the table but couldn’t locate the source of the sound, before reluctantly – and painfully – opening her
eyes. The screen of her phone was flashing brightly on the floor and she stretched to pick it up, stabbing at the front until the noise stopped, and then dropping it on the bed next to her. Where
was a sodding blunt object when she needed one?

Jessica closed her eyes again and rolled onto her back, reaching for the duvet cover and pulling it tight around her, trying to suppress a shiver.

She could remember flashes from the previous afternoon: the club, Nicholas . . . whisky. As the thought popped into her mind, she could taste the liquid again, suppressing a gag as it hit the
back of her throat. Jessica screwed her eyes tighter but the memories were swirling vividly. She remembered the cold breeze and sitting on a bench and then Izzy arriving and helping her into a car.
After that, she didn’t know.

Wondering what time it was, Jessica reached out a hand to feel for Adam on his side of the bed. It was empty, so she assumed he must have left for work, although she didn’t want to open
her eyes to see the actual time. She realised she was going to be late and hoped she had either cleared it already, or that Izzy would have done something for her.

Thank God for Izzy.

Jessica felt her body shivering and realised it wasn’t the cold – instead it was the fear from the previous day finally catching up with her. She remembered the way Nicholas looked
at her and how he had licked his lips as if she was something he had ordered. She had been full of bravado because that was the only way to deal with men like that; beat them at their own game.
Jessica pulled the duvet over her head. She could rarely remember being so scared: Nicholas was a dangerous man and she had used the fact she was a woman to try to toy with him.

She could remember her dreams from the night before more clearly than she could recall what had actually happened at the club. In her mind, Adam had been there too sitting at the bar with
Nicholas, laughing and leering at half-naked girls.

Jessica tried to tell herself it was only a dream but her head was throbbing, her mind a mess of reality and nightmares. She tried to forget how terrified she had been but, before she knew what
she was doing, she had thrown off the covers and was running towards the bathroom with a hand over her mouth.

When her eyes finally felt as if they were working, Jessica was relieved to find two text messages from Izzy on her phone. The first told her not to bother hurrying in and
that Cole didn’t mind, the second simply had three words: ‘They quit together’.

The message was enough for Jessica to remember everything Nicholas had told her about Kayleigh and Eleanor.

There was also one from Adam, saying he hadn’t wanted to wake her but that he would see her later. Jessica deleted it, bashing the screen in fury at the fact his name had the gall to
appear. She didn’t know if she was angry at him because of the dream she’d had, or because of everything else.

Aspirin, water and a morning moping on the balcony were enough for Jessica to finally start feeling like herself. As she sat with her feet on the railing outside watching the people underneath,
Jessica phoned Izzy just after midday.

The constable answered straight away. ‘Jess, are you okay?’

‘I’ve been better.’

‘Did you get my messages? You don’t have to come in today, I told Jack you were feeling ill.’

‘Did you tell him about Nicholas?’

‘No.’

‘Good.’

Izzy stumbled over her reply. ‘What happened? Obviously you’d been drinking . . .’

‘I don’t remember.’

‘You told me to remind you that Eleanor and Kayleigh left at the same time but that was all. I couldn’t understand a word you were saying.’

‘I knew it would only be a matter of time before I picked the Mancunian accent up.’ Jessica laughed but the other end of the line was silent.

‘Why didn’t you ask someone else to talk to him with you?’

‘He wouldn’t have spoken to anyone else.’

‘But you could have been hurt.’

Jessica could feel a lump at the back of her throat and swallowed hard. ‘I told you where I was. You knew what to do if I hadn’t called by a certain time.’

The constable’s voice was quieter as she replied. ‘Yes, but anything could have happened in that time.’

Jessica didn’t want to dwell on it, taking a mouthful of water. ‘I’m going to visit Ellie. Can you send me her phone number?’

‘Can’t you take a day off?’

Jessica couldn’t tell from her friend’s tone if she was joking or serious. ‘Iz, I’m fine, send me the details and I’ll see you later or tomorrow.’

‘You’re forgetting though . . .’

Jessica interrupted, trying to speak with an authority she wasn’t feeling. ‘Can you please just do it?’

There was a pause before the constable replied with a terse ‘fine’ and then hung up.

Jessica felt bad for snapping and as soon as the line went silent, she knew what her friend was trying to remind her of. Although she was in the flat in Salford, her car was still parked on the
other side of the city at Longsight. She finished her glass of water and returned indoors hoping there was still a set of bus timetables in the drawer underneath the sink.

As she walked from the bus stop to Eleanor Sexton’s house, Jessica couldn’t help but think that public transport was without doubt one of the worst things possible
for a hangover. Everything from the whining babies to the teenagers with music pouring out of their headphones to the vague aroma suggesting that someone had mistaken the top deck for a public
toilet made things feel worse. By the time she had taken the three separate buses necessary, Jessica was beginning to wish she had heeded Izzy’s advice about having a day off – or at
least not been stingy and called a taxi instead.

‘Lara’s asleep upstairs,’ Eleanor said, welcoming Jessica inside with a whisper.

The woman looked weary but had clearly been very attractive in her younger days. Her hair was still just about blonde and Jessica could tell her body was trim and toned, despite it being covered
by ill-fitting clothes.

‘
. . . I always remember the pretty ones . . .
’

It hadn’t been that long ago that Jessica had visited Cameron at the house. Things seemed exactly the same, with neat rows of shoes and coats inside the door and a fresh smell as if the
hallway had been recently cleaned.

Eleanor led her through to the living room and went off to the kitchen to make tea. Jessica had a wander around, taking in the family photos she had glanced at on her previous visit. It was the
first time she had spoken to Eleanor directly. Other officers had been to see her before but the woman hadn’t had much to offer.

When she returned, Eleanor sat in an armchair, curling her feet under herself. ‘How can I help you?’ she asked, sipping from a mug with a pink cartoon character on the front. As if
sensing Jessica’s question, she added: ‘It’s from Lara’s favourite show. I gave you an adult’s mug.’

Jessica looked at the plain whiteness of her own and half-wished she had the child’s one. ‘I know someone has been to see you already but I’d like to ask you about Nicholas
Long.’

She saw the recognition in Eleanor’s eyes, before the woman glanced away towards the window. ‘He used to be my boss. I told your people that. I’m not sure what else you want me
to add.’

Jessica persisted. ‘Was that when you worked with Kayleigh?’ Eleanor nodded but didn’t reply, so Jessica continued to push. ‘I know someone visited to tell you what
happened to her.’

Eleanor cradled the mug. ‘I didn’t know what to say to your people. I hadn’t seen her in ages but obviously there’s this strange link between us now because of what
happened with poor Oliver.’

Jessica took a moment to let her dwell on the words. She didn’t think Eleanor was being evasive, but perhaps there was something hidden away she had tried to forget.

‘How close did you used to be?’ Jessica asked.

Eleanor answered with a shrug. ‘It was such a long time ago. We were good mates but a lot of that was because we saw each other every day and worked together. We were young women and I
guess we moved on over time.’ As if realising what could be happening, she glanced up from her mug to catch Jessica’s eye. ‘Should I be worried?’