Storms (2 page)

        The estate was sprawled out across a couple of miles to the east of Manchester city centre with the main Sheffield road as its artery and the Etihad stadium dominating the immediate skyline. The Gorton boys had taken over the entire area and the local housing association had been inundated with requests, mainly from elderly people who were too scared to go out, especially after dark, to be moved to somewhere else. But spare housing stock was low in most areas and the opportunity to grant the wishes of everyone who wanted to move out was just not possible. So people lived in fear. Local tradesmen making deliveries and workmen putting in telephone lines or fixing boilers always came in two’s. None of them would risk going onto the estate alone. Ambulances and fire engines had been regularly attacked whilst they’d been going about their duties and an elderly woman had recently died in the back of the ambulance that was trying to get her to hospital but which had been held up by a mob wielding large planks of wood and iron bars. They’d struck the engine bonnet, the sides and back of the ambulance, terrifying the woman inside in her final moments of life. They gave her no thought or decency but when they got fed up they finally just let the ambulance pass. It was all a game of power to them. They didn’t care who got hurt as long as it wasn’t them. The woman died before she reached the hospital.      

     ‘When have you ever helped us?’ somebody cried out.

     ‘And when have you ever accepted our help in good faith?’ Jeff retorted. The room suddenly went quiet. He could see the ladies and gentlemen of the press who were in attendance suddenly sit up and take notice. They’re not interested in justice for anyone. They just want the angle of a white police officer losing his rag with local residents in a predominately West Indian community. That’s what they’d be looking for. And now he was about to hand it to them on a plate. ‘Look, it’s time for a dialogue between us based on truth and honesty. I’ll grant you that the police have sometimes been at fault in the past but I don’t accept that it’s all the fault of the police. It goes both ways and I will hunt down the killer or killers of Leroy Patterson and I will lead a team to the best of our collective responsibility. But I need something from you. I need to know the names of everyone who was part of the mob that surrounded the ambulance that prevented Evelyn Squires from getting to the hospital promptly after her heart attack. Evelyn Squires died. But you know that. You also know that the mob that surrounded the ambulance she was in was responsible. It wasn’t the police and it certainly wasn’t those brave paramedics. But you won’t give us any names will you? You expect us to do our job, and rightly so, but if it’s one of yours you let them get away with murder. And then you wonder why relations between us are so bad? Do you not see what I’m getting at here? Justice is not a one-way street. It means we have to talk to each other if we’re going to solve the murder of Leroy Patterson and find out who the cowards were who prevented Evelyn Squires from getting to the hospital. But as you accuse me and my colleagues of dragging our feet in relation to the death of Leroy Patterson you should remember that this community has got the highest rate of gang related crime in this city but if you allow yourselves to get to know me you’ll realise that the very last thing anybody could accuse me of is racism. The law is the law whether you’re a black teenager in a gang or an elderly white woman on her way to hospital. Think about it and work with me’.

     Jeff sat down and breathed out slowly. There was silence in the room. He hadn’t expected to make that kind of speech but he thought it was necessary and perhaps overdue. He was sick and tired of the police taking all the knocks when half the time they’d be able to solve many more crimes if the public were open and frank with them. He was also sick and tired of people expecting him to be a racist just because he was a police officer. If that was the game they wanted to play then they most certainly had picked on the wrong one. It would no doubt get him into trouble with the powers that be on the force but so be it. Chief Superintendent Chambers would no doubt be calling him in to explain the press headlines that will follow but he was prepared for that. He looked at his watch. It was just before nine o’clock. He wanted to get home to see his son Toby who’d been off school with measles. Jeff had taken some time off earlier in the week to be with him but their live-in housekeeper and child minder Brendan had been doing a wonderful job and Toby was over the worse now. He’d probably be back at school in a day or two. In the meantime he had his iPad to keep him occupied and a multitude of films that Brendan had downloaded for him to watch whilst his temperature came down and the spots on his skin began to disappear.

     It was clear from the way people were turning their backs on the panel that they considered the meeting to be over. Royston Albright began gathering his things together.

     ‘That was a good speech, Jeff’ said Royston. ’But if I’d have made it I’d lose my seat at the next election. I’m a member of this community so I speak as one who knows that they don’t like having it given back to them’.

     ‘I was quite mild and tempered compared to what I really wanted to say, Royston’ said Jeff. ’Maybe I’ll save the rest for next time but I’ve got to convince them to trust me. Surely it can’t be that impossible?’

     ‘Well you never know’ said Royston. ‘They did put a man on the moon after all’.

     Jeff smiled. ‘You’ll keep me posted if you hear anything?’

     ‘Of course. I’ve got your number. We’ll keep in touch. I’m not your enemy, Jeff. I support you in what you’re trying to do’.

     ‘Thanks Royston’ said Jeff who was then collared by the members of the press. He told them he had nothing to add to what he’d said in his speech and to what he’d said earlier that day in the press conference. As for whether his strident tone would win him more enemies than friends he said that was too early to tell but that he had an investigation to conduct and he and his team would be getting on with that. Once they realised they weren’t going to get any more gold out of him they lost interest and transferred their efforts to what remained of the audience. Jeff noticed that most people were standing round Melanie Patterson who gave him the odd backward glance that didn’t look friendly. She was probably in her early forties and Jeff admired the way her chocolate coloured skin contrasted with the deep red of her nail polish and lipstick. He watched her put on a thick overcoat. It was cold out but as he watched her he thought that maybe it was time to start looking towards the future where relationships were concerned. Up until recently he hadn’t been able to even entertain the idea of being with another woman. He certainly found this woman attractive but he could never entertain the idea for one second of getting involved with the mother of a murder victim. It just wouldn’t be right on so many levels. But to establish some kind of positive rapport with her might be useful in unlocking the community resistance to police enquiries. 

      ‘She’s the one woman in this community who you really do need to have on your side’ said Royston who’d been kept back by the journalists and then seen where Jeff’s eyes were focusing. ‘She’s like an unofficial leader. The rest of them listen to what she says. Of course there is talk about what kind of role she really plays in this community’.

     ‘How do you mean?’ Jeff asked.             

     ‘There are stories, rumours’ said Royston. ‘They say that she’s always been the real power behind the Gorton boys’.

     ‘Really?’

     ‘Oh yeah’ said Royston. ‘They’ve made her out to be a proper Winnie Mandela at times. Now I don’t know for sure and I wouldn’t like to speculate beyond what I’ve already said. But it might be worth your while persisting with her’. 

     ‘I think I’ll try and talk to her again’ said Jeff. He jumped off the makeshift stage and stepped briskly over. The rest of the people dispersed as he approached.

     ‘Excuse me?’ said Jeff. ‘Mrs. Patterson? Could we have a word?’

     Melanie Patterson didn’t look at him as she replied. ‘I suppose you think that was a fine speech you made?’

     ‘Well it wasn’t scripted’.

     ‘And it sounded to me like it was driven by your ignorant prejudice about this community. Talk to you? Listen to you? I’d rather die’.

     ‘No I’m sorry I’m not going to let you get away with that one’.

     ‘I beg your pardon?’

     ‘What you just said to me was not only wrong but it was unpleasant and deeply offensive. Now I know you’re grieving but if I didn’t care about what I was doing and if I wasn’t being genuine then I wouldn’t have come down here tonight and I wouldn’t have said any of those things’.

     ‘So what are you saying?’

     ‘That we’ve got more in common than you think’.

     ‘So you say’.

     ‘Why can’t you work with me? Don’t you want us to find the killer of your son?’

     Melanie gave out a short laugh. ‘You think I’m going to agree to colluding with the enemy?’

     ‘For the sake of finding your son’s killer then yes I do’.

     ‘Do you have children?’

     ‘What?’

     ‘It’s a simple enough question’.

     ‘Yes, I do. I have a son. His name is Toby’.

     ‘And I suppose Toby is being taken care of tonight in your nice big house in your nice white suburb by your nice pretty wife who doesn’t have a care in the world?’

     ‘Actually my nice pretty wife died almost two years ago of an aneurism that exploded in her brain. She was only thirty years old. I’m a single Dad and both father and mother to my son. It’s not always easy. So do you want to make any more judgements about me and my family when you know nothing about my life?’

     Melanie was embarrassed. ‘I’m sorry to hear all that. A young man like you shouldn’t be left with a child to bring up on his own’.

     ‘It’s no more or less difficult than it is for a woman left in the same circumstances’ said Jeff. ‘It’s called life and you have to get on with it. And I’m trying to reconcile here the fact that you love to judge others but won’t be judged yourself. How do you work that one out? And why is it that you think the only prejudice is against black people?’

     ‘Because it is’

     ‘Well let me tell you something, my wife was of Chinese decent and do you know where the racism in our life came from? It came from my own parents who never accepted Lillie Mae because she was Chinese and who never come anywhere near their grandson because he’s mixed race even though he’s lost his Mum at such an early age and could do with knowing that they love him. So don’t lecture me about racism, Mrs. Patterson, because I know all about it at first hand’.

     ‘I’m sorry again’.

     ‘You don’t have to be. I know that you know about it too. But black people don’t have the monopoly’.

     ‘You do speak frankly for a police officer. I’ll give you that’.

     ‘I really think it might help if we talked sometime, Mrs. Peters’ said Jeff.

     ‘But I blame the police for my son’s murder and that includes you’.

     ‘That’s not fair, Mrs. Patterson, your son was part of a gang that terrorised people in this community and you have the nerve to stand there and blame the police for his murder?’

     ‘Well if you really want me to think differently then find my son’s killer’ Melanie struck back. ‘Then I might be prepared to believe that you’re genuine and we might be able to talk’

     ‘We’ll need to talk way before then if we’re going to really help things around here’ said Jeff. ‘You already have my card from when I came to see you before. Call me’.

     Melanie picked up her handbag and threw it over her shoulder. ‘I’ll think about it’.

     ‘That’s all I can ask’.

     ‘You’ll keep me informed about the investigation into my son’s murder?’

     ‘You do believe there is one going on then?’

     Melanie smiled. ‘Alright, I’ll give you that one. Well, I’d better be going’.

     ‘How are you coping?’

     ‘I lost Leroy’s father to cancer five years ago. I don’t cope, Mr. Barton. I get through each day as best I can but I don’t need to explain that to you because you know what it feels like to lose someone close’.

     ‘Good days and bad days’.

     ‘Exactly. And I was just getting over the loss of my husband when life dealt me this new blow’.

     ‘I think you should call me Jeff’.

     ‘And I suppose you can call me Melanie’.

     ‘So will you call me so we can talk?’

     Melanie smiled. ‘I said I’d think about it and I will think about it’.

STORMS THREE

     ‘So now with regard to the Leroy Patterson case’ said Jeff who was sitting in his office with DI Rebecca Stockton. ‘I wanted to sound you out, Becky, about the initial statement by Melanie Patterson, mother of Leroy?’

     ‘Well to be honest, sir’ said Rebecca. ‘I’ve never heard such sanctimonious twaddle in all my life’.