Storms (3 page)

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Authors: David Menon

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BOOK: Storms
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     Jeff gave a half smile. ‘Don’t sit on the fence now, Rebecca’.

     ‘Well sir, her son had been a thug and yet she was talking about him as if he’d found the secret to achieving world peace. She claims to have been devoted to him as his mother and yet all that devotion led to him becoming a member of a gang that terrorised people. Leroy left school a year early without any qualifications to do anything with his life other than engage in criminality. I’ve read his school reports. They all say he was too lazy and had too much attitude to focus on his education but of course, according to his oh so devoted mother it was none of her or his fault. It was all the fault of the rest of us’.

     ‘I take it you’re not too keen on her then?’

     ‘The hypocrisy of her hit me like the smell of someone wearing dirty underwear’.

     ‘Right, well I think I’ll go and see her on my own in that case’ said Jeff.

     ‘Are you saying I can’t be professional and keep my private opinions to myself, sir?’

     ‘No, I’m not saying that, Becky’ said Jeff who was slightly taken aback by the sudden aggression in Rebecca’s tone. 

     ‘Well with all due respect it sounds like it to me’ said Rebecca who was seriously annoyed at Jeff’s attitude.

     ‘Look, the important thing here is to build trust in the community to help solve the case’ said Jeff. ‘And you’ll need to put your feelings to one side in order for us to do that’.

     ‘I’m well aware of that, sir’ said Rebecca, testily. ‘I’m hardly a rookie recruit’.

     ‘Right’ said Jeff who wondered what the hell had got into Rebecca. ‘I’m glad that’s settled. Look Becky, I don’t know what gets in to you sometimes but you’ve got to stop this moodiness of yours. Sometimes I don’t know who the hell you’re going to be from one day to the next, whether you’re going to be the excellent police officer and someone I regard as a close friend, or whether you’re going to be this stroppy teenager who keeps throwing her toys out’.

     ‘Is this an official bollocking, sir?’

     ‘You see, there you go. Becky, we’ve got two new officers joining the team today. I don’t want them walking into an atmosphere of tension between the two senior officers so buck your ideas up and that’s an order’.

     Rebecca looked at Jeff and wondered if he was genuinely in denial or just plain stupid. ‘I’ll see the Leroy Patterson case through to its conclusion, sir. And then I’ll apply for a transfer to another team’.

     ‘Rebecca, I ... ‘

     ‘ ... you just don’t see it, do you sir?’ she blurted out, more emotionally than she’d wanted to. ‘You just don’t see it’.

     ‘What don’t I see?’

     ‘That it’s ... that it’s better for the integrity of the squad if we don’t work together’.

     ‘You’ve got to say more than that after dropping that bombshell’.

     ‘No, sir, actually, I don’t have to say anything else’.

     ‘I may not accept your transfer request’.

     ‘Then I’ll go to the police federation’.

     ‘Oh Becky for God’s sake ... ‘

     ‘ ... and sir, if you don’t mind, it’s DI Stockton from now on’.

 

     Jeff drove onto the Gorton estate and pulled up outside the house of Melanie Patterson. Earlier he’d had another exchange of words with Rebecca Stockton about whether or not she should accompany him on the visit. He didn’t like falling out with any of his officers and he had thought that Rebecca was more of a friend than a colleague and could therefore get past any short circuits in their working relationship. Perhaps he was wrong. So much tension had crept into their relationship over recent weeks and he’d clearly got under her skin about something which was why she was intending to transfer from his team. But he also had to remember that he was her boss and if she continued to speak to him the way she had been doing then another far more uglier issue might have to be addressed. Jeff had never thrown his rank around. He’d never needed to. His management style had always led to his team co-operating with him and not challenging him for the sake of their own ego. This may be one of those times when he needed to be a lot firmer about just who was in charge. They say that familiarity breeds contempt. He didn’t really hold with that but he wouldn’t be taken the piss out of just because people think they can on account of his less than fervent style of authority. But something was driving Rebecca’s oscillating moods and he would never accept any transfer request until he knew what that was. His brother Lewis had often said that it was as clear as day that Rebecca was in love with Jeff. But Jeff didn’t see that. He and Rebecca were too close as friends for there to be anything else involved and besides, he just didn’t feel that way about her. At least, he didn’t think he did. He’d never really thought about it.

After he’d got out of his car he didn’t have to look in order to know that suspicious eyes were falling on him from everywhere. Curtains were parting, doors were being opened and people were appearing to see who the stranger in their midst was. Some of them would remember him from the town hall meeting but some of those would’ve been determined to forget. But that didn’t matter to Jeff. He wanted to know how a killer had come on to this estate, snatch a member of the controlling gang and then dumping his dead body back here a couple of days later. Did Leroy Patterson know who his abductor was and go with them willingly not knowing the trap he was being led into? Was somebody here helping whoever it was? Was it someone from inside who had their own reasons for turning on the Gorton boys? There were plenty of questions Jeff needed answers to and he had to get people round here to talk if he was going to find the killer of Leroy Patterson.

The inside of Melanie Patterson’s modest former council house was absolutely immaculate. It was one of those houses where you are a little bit afraid to sit down in case you disturb the perfect arrangement of cushions. It didn’t look like there was a thing out of place and everything had been cleaned to within an inch of its natural life. The front window didn’t have any of the marks of residue cleaning liquid that some people’s windows have and as she talked Melanie was constantly fiddling with something. Either she was straightening the already perfectly hung curtains or running her hands over the cushions even though they didn’t need it. Then between all that she picked up bits of fluff off the carpet that Jeff couldn’t actually see. She was wearing a grey soft woolen v-neck jumper and a pair of black trousers that had both been perfectly pressed. She was a lady who liked to keep up appearances and that can’t be easy when you live on benefits. None of the things Jeff saw around him looked like they’d come from the cheaper end of the market.   

‘Remind me, Leroy did live here with you, Melanie?’ asked Jeff.

‘Indeed he did’ said Melanie with a slight smile in Jeff’s direction.

‘He hadn’t moved out then?’

‘No, he was born in this house and I took him to the cemetery from this house’.

‘But I understand you don’t live here alone?’

‘No, I still have my miracle child’.

‘Your miracle child?’

‘About fifteen years ago there was a massive hurricane back home in St. Kitts’ she explained. ‘The death toll ran into three figures. My brother and sister-in-law perished and the authorities had initially assumed that their son had perished too, poor child. He’d only have been five years old then. But just two months ago my nephew Jackson Williams turned up on my doorstep large as life. He’d been rescued during the hurricane and put into an orphanage and last year he decided to track down his family. He found out about his old Aunt Melanie in Manchester, England. So he came over here and I welcomed him into my home. It was as if the good Lord knew that I was going to be lonely’.

     ‘Where is Jackson now?’

     ‘He’s out and that’s all you need to know’ said Melanie, a little sharply. ‘Sorry. It’s just hard for me to separate the man from the police officer when I talk to you. Jackson has been a great comfort to me these past few days since I lost my son to a murderer. Have you got anywhere with your … investigation?’

     ‘I’m afraid not, Melanie’ Jeff admitted. It was true enough. They’d drawn a complete blank in their enquiries. ‘Look Melanie, I really need your help here. I’ve listened to talk here and there and I know that people in this community look to you for leadership’.

     Melanie put on a half-smile. ‘Not always in a good way as far as the police are concerned. I’ve been harassed by your so-called fellow officers on more occasions than I care to remember’.

     ‘Well let’s park that for the moment’ said Jeff. ‘Melanie, there’s so much we need to know if we’re going to make any headway with this investigation but all we’ve had so far from conducting door-to-door enquiries down this street and those around it are the doors slammed in our faces. You can see how that makes our job difficult’

     ‘I suppose you’ve got a point’ said Melanie who despite herself couldn’t help but like this tall white man with the dark blond hair and the sparkle mixed with sadness in his eyes that were a reflection of her own. ‘Don’t you think it hurts me if my friends and neighbours know something that they’re not passing on to you?’

     ‘Then help me, Melanie. You won’t be betraying anybody but it might start something that will lead to us getting justice for Leroy’.

     ‘I’ll talk to people round and about’ said Melanie. ‘I’ll do my best’.

     ‘And what about Evelyn Squires?’

     ‘What about her?’

     ‘I need the names of those who stopped her ambulance getting through, Melanie’ said Jeff. ‘And I’m equally as determined on that as I am on getting justice for your son’.

     ‘I can’t promise you the earth, Jeff’ said Melanie who was in a dilemma when it came to the incident with the ambulance. Nobody was going to drop their own kid in it but she needed Jeff on side to get whoever had taken Leroy. ‘But you’d better come back in a couple of days with the rest of them you need to do your work and I’ll try and make sure the doors aren’t slammed in your face’.

     ‘That’s as much as I can ask, Melanie’ said Jeff. ‘Thank you’.

     ‘You’re welcome’.

     ‘Why do so many young men join the Gorton boys, Melanie?’

     ‘You don’t ask easy questions, Jeff’ said Melanie. Her heart was heavy with the loss of her son but she had to keep on protecting him. She was his mother. ‘You see Jeff, the young people round here feel as far away from the bright lights of the city centre just down the road as they do from somewhere like America. They don’t feel part of the great modern success we’re all being told that Manchester is. They feel they have no control of anything to do with their destiny except these streets’.

     ‘There’s no excuse for the kind of violence we’ve seen from the Gorton boys, Melanie’.

     ‘It’s what they feel, Jeff’.

     ‘And I hear white youths in other areas articulating the same problems, Melanie’.

     ‘Well maybe they don’t have the cards stacked against them like our boys do’.

     ‘Melanie, how do you think they get in that state in the first place? They live on estates that are kept in a far worse condition than I’ve seen round here’.

     ‘Me and the rest of the women take pride in our neighbourhood and like to make it look nice. But when it comes to our boys, the rest of society has rejected them and expects them to fail’.

     ‘Yes, and they prove those cynics right’ said Jeff. ‘They play into their hands. Look Melanie, I’m a mere police officer. I can’t change the world. All I do is uphold the law with due fairness to everyone. But if this community can start working with us instead of believing we’re part of some grand conspiracy against you then we can start to turn things round’.

     ‘Will the alleged wrongdoings of the Gorton boys be placed in the past so that we can move on?’

     ‘You’re talking about immunity from prosecution?’ Jeff questioned. He was surprised she’d been as blunt as that and from an intelligent woman such as her it wasn’t what he would’ve expected. She was chancing it. She knew what the answer would be and yet he was also surprised at how relatively co-operative she was being considering how belligerent she’d been previously. What was motivating this turn around? Jeff didn’t allow himself to think that it was just his charm.

     ‘Yes’ said Melanie. ‘How else could we move on?’

     ‘That’s way beyond my remit, Melanie, and something I just couldn’t promise you or even comment about’.

     ‘Just as I thought’ said Melanie. ‘At least you’re honest and I admire that in a man. Now, shall I make us some tea?’

‘Only if it’s not too much trouble, Melanie?’

Melanie stood up. ‘When you’re a mother who’s buried her child nothing seems to be much trouble’.

‘I can understand how that feels’ said Jeff.

‘You lost your wife. That’s how you can understand. You were a husband and I was a mother who devoted herself to her child instead of going off and chasing a career like so many women do these days. They neglect their children’.

This was where Jeff had sympathy with Rebecca Stockton’s perspective on Melanie Patterson. If she’d been the mother of all mothers as she claimed to have been then how come her son did end up a mindless thug? She was deluded. It was part of being a mother in the middle of gang activity on some of Manchester’s toughest streets. Melanie Patterson had to believe that she’d done everything right. It was the only truth she could hold onto. But could it be, like Royston Albright had said, that Melanie did actually play a significant role in the activities of the Gorton boys?

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