Authors: Lee Weeks
‘Because I’ve seen to it.’
‘How?’
‘I’ve settled it. They don’t have no reason.’
‘I want their names.’
Manson thought it through; he looked around the room for a few minutes. He shook his head. ‘I won’t cause unnecessary trouble. I will ask around about Danielle. Although it’s
no skin of my nose if she’s in a skip somewhere.’
‘I take it you two don’t get on very well?’
‘Could say.’
‘But you have a child together.’
‘Havin’ a kid was the worst thing we ever did.’
‘Jackson’s not easy?’
‘Oh he’s easy all right but then you’re never going to get much back from him. He’s never gonna to be playin’ football for England, is he?’
Carter didn’t answer this.
‘You still feel something for Danielle, Niall?’
He shrugged. ‘Sure. But most of it is hate. She looks at me like I’m shit on her shoe. I ain’t good enough for her any more.’ Manson sniffed and turned away and pretended
to be looking at the décor in the small interview room. There was nothing for him to look at except the sheen of the grey paint.
‘You think she got ideas above her station? She wants to be a teacher now, doesn’t she? She’s going to classes, isn’t she? And it feels like she doesn’t want to
know you any more. I sympathize. I have a kid, Niall. I understand how tough it is.’
Niall turned back and sneered. ‘Yeah well, she’s got a new set of friends. Go and talk to them. What you botherin’ me for?’
‘Who are they?’
‘All those single women she meets in the school. Bunch of dykes. Plus – she denies it but I know she’s seeing someone else.’
‘That’s tough.’ Carter sat back in his chair, nodded sympathetically.
Manson watched Carter closely. Then he mirrored Carter’s actions. He relaxed, sat back.
‘How do you know?’ Carter continued.
Manson shook his head slowly, screwed up his face. ‘I can tell. You can, can’t you? When they’re cheating on you?’
‘You been together long then?’
‘Long enough.’
‘A few years?’
‘Since we was teenagers. You’d think she’d feel some fucking loyalty – bitch.’
‘You ever feel the need to put her in her place? You ever slap her, Niall?’
‘Once or twice. Nuthin’ bad. Nuthin’ she didn’t deserve.’
‘Where were you yesterday evening?’
‘Round my mate’s house.’
‘Address?’
‘Concord Square, Lewisham.’
‘Can you prove it?’
‘Yeah. We had a visit from friends of yours. Thought there was some chance of finding a cannabis farm; turned out to be next door. No apology – nuthin’. Just smash the fucking
door down and leave.’
‘Make a complaint.’
‘Tsss.’ He turned away, disgusted. ‘Fucking filth. What about my son? What about Jackson? Who’s got him?’
‘He’s being looked after by family.’
‘I hope it ain’t Danielle’s dad?’
‘Why do you say that?’
‘Because he’s a weird fucker. Never liked me. Never wanted nothing for Danielle. Kicked her out when she got pregnant. Who’s got my son?’
‘He’s with Danielle’s mother.’
He shook his head, confused. ‘She’s dead.’
‘Her birth mother.’
‘What? What is that shit? Where did she crawl out from? She never tried to find Danielle before. Why did she bother now?’
‘Apparently it was Danielle who made the contact. Does that seem strange to you?’
‘Yeah. The way she talked about her real mum I’m surprised but . . . Danielle was full of surprises lately.’
‘I know that things didn’t work out for you and Danielle but this is the mother of your child and she’s disappeared. You think of anything she may have said to you?’
‘The last thing she said was that she hopes I die slowly. Oh yeah, and if I didn’t want her contacting the filth I better sort out my affairs fast. I want to see Jackson.’
‘You’re not allowed, are you? The court order says you are refused permission to see your son ever since you put him in danger with your drug dealing ways. You can reapply to the
courts to have the injunction lifted. If you help us we’ll certainly put in a word for you.’
Niall’s face took on an indifferent expression.
Tracy watched Jackson waddling out of the bedroom, his eyes full of tears.
‘What? Pardon? Sorry?’ Tracy still hadn’t really understood what the person on the other end of the phone was saying.
Jackson came to stand in the kitchen doorway. ‘Mummy . . . Mummy?’ He stood rubbing his eyes, still half asleep.
The voice, deeply distorted, now became loud in her ear. ‘Tracy? You listening? I have your daughter here.’
Tracy turned away from Jackson and the phone became part of her head, clamped to her ear. The clock stopped. Her eyes saw nothing. Every sense was tuned into her ear, listening.
‘What do you mean? Where is she?’
‘Right now? She’s somewhere dark.’
‘Who are you?’ Tracy struggled to understand what the man was saying. His voice was so deep and each word rolled into the next. ‘Let me talk to her. Danielle?’ Tracy
listened hard as she pinched her free ear shut with her forefinger and Jackson gripped her leg, whimpering. Tracy called into the phone. She strained to hear. There was a background noise,
persistent but erratic.
‘You hear that noise, Tracy?’ He breathed down the phone. Beneath the knocking Tracy could hear another noise: it was the sound of scraping. He started laughing and then Tracy heard
muffled sounds of someone screaming. ‘That’s the sound of your daughter trying to get out of her coffin.’
The line went dead.
Tracy stared at the phone in her hand and looked at Jackson. He was looking up at her with Scruffy behind him. All three of them were frozen. Tracy looked back at the phone; her hand was shaking
so much that she thought she was about to drop it but it was stuck to her hand like tar. It was burning in her hand. She gasped, clasping her hand over her mouth to try and halt the scream that was
about to escape. The image of Danielle buried alive made her want to vomit. She turned and ran for the bathroom and clung to the cold porcelain of the toilet seat as she retched. Jackson came to
stand in the bathroom. She washed her face and rinsed her mouth and stooped to see if Jackson was okay. When the doorbell rang Tracy squealed in fright. Jackson started crying.
‘Sorry. Sorry. It’s okay, Jackson. Nanny’s sorry.’
She went to look out of her lounge window and saw Jeanie’s white Renault. Tracy rushed towards the door with a sense of relief, picking up Jackson on the way. She opened the door to
Jeanie, who took one look at Tracy’s face – white as a sheet.
‘What is it?’
Tracy shook her head as if to say she couldn’t tell her in front of Jackson. Jackson was watching her. Tracy stepped back to allow Jeanie in.
‘Come on, Jackson, show me how you can build a house out of your bricks. Jeanie led the way across the lounge with the box of toys she’d brought over from her house, borrowed from
Christa. She ushered Tracy into the kitchen.
‘What is it?’
Tracy held the phone up and looked at it as if it were alive.
‘Someone rang me.’
‘Who?’
She stood there shaking her head, looking like she was still trying to work out what happened. She looked at Jeanie, panic in her eyes.
‘He knew my name. He says he has Danielle. I could hear her . . .’
‘What did he say to you? Try and remember the exact words.
‘At first I couldn’t understand what the person was saying. It was muffled, didn’t sound right.’
‘So it was a man?’
‘It sounded like a man. He had a really deep voice but it was slowed down, distorted like one of those kids’ toys that makes voices sound strange.’
‘What did he say?’
‘He asked if I could hear a noise.’ Tracy’s face paled again. She had started to shake. Her eyes lost their focus. Jeanie was beginning to think she’d have to get ready
to catch her if she fainted. ‘It was a knocking sound.’ Tracy took some deep breaths. ‘He said it was the sound of Danielle trying to get out of her coffin.’
She turned away and clutched the edge of the kitchen sink and her face crumpled.
‘It’s all right, Tracy. You’re doing okay. Tell me, did you hear Danielle’s voice?’
Tracy began to slowly move her head, nodding as her eyes focused on some horror that was locked in her mind. She turned to Jeanie. ‘I heard someone scratching, someone screaming. I
don’t know if it was her.’
Ebony looked around as the door to the interview room opened and Robbo called her outside into the hallway. She closed the door behind her.
‘What is it?’
‘Just got a call from Jeanie: It’s Hawk, he’s made contact. It seems he’s got Danielle Foster.’
‘Guv – a word?’
Ebony called Carter out of the interview.
‘Tracy Collins has had a phone call from Hawk. He told her he has her daughter. She heard the sound of someone knocking on wood.’
Carter turned to Zoe. ‘Have you got an office we can use? We need to talk.’
‘Sir – the interview room across the corridor is free?’
Robbo sat; Willis stood and Carter paced.
‘The only way Manson could be involved is if he’s Hawk’s accomplice. I don’t see it, do you?’
Ebony answered with a shake of the head. ‘He’s not the sharpest knife in the rack, Guv. Plus – you know what he cares about in life? His wallet. He’s still got a habit by
the look of him and he sells drugs to feed it. No way is he into something this big without a payoff of some kind.’
Robbo crossed his arms around himself and his foot tapped. He was uncomfortable with the closed door but was too preoccupied to give into it.
‘You’re right – if he was going into the kidnap business it would be for a big ransom. Could Hawk have manipulated him somehow?
‘How?’ asked Carter. He stopped and looked at Robbo.
‘He could have used Manson to draw Danielle Foster out. We need to ask him about Emily Styles.’
‘The lawyer won’t like it,’ said Ebony.
‘No, but we may not get another chance to ask him,’ Carter replied as he stood to open the door. Robbo wiped the sweat from his face.
Willis and Carter went back into the interview room and Carter sat and leaned across closer to Niall.
‘Do you know a friend of Danielle’s called Emily Styles?’ Carter showed him her photo.
‘My client chooses not to answer that.’ Manson looked across at his lawyer. ‘My client has come in here to help with the disappearance of Danielle Foster, not to answer
questions in a murder case.’
‘That’s the girl who was fished out of the canal?’ asked Manson.
‘Yes.’ The atmosphere in the room changed. Carter’s eyes hardened on Manson.
‘Never heard of or seen her before.’ Manson stiffened. He began looking nervous again.
Carter watched Manson as he displayed all the attributes of someone who was lying. His breathing pattern had changed; he was sweating.
‘You better start telling me the truth, Niall, because I got witnesses that say they saw you and Danielle arguing. They heard you rowing and you turned up outside the college where
she’s studying. Did you see this woman there?’
Niall sat back in his chair and stared at the wall defiantly.
‘CCTV footage will confirm it, Niall. You want to save me the time, time that could cost your Danielle’s life?’
Niall rocked on his chair and then sat forward, elbows on his knees.
‘All right. I went there. So what? I went there to see the bloke she’s seeing.’
‘What for? You said you didn’t care.’
‘She’s still mine. My property,’ Manson corrected himself. He sucked air in behind his front teeth. ‘Tsss. I wanted to frighten him a bit.’
‘Did you see her?’
‘Yeah. I saw her.’
‘And him? Who was she with?’
‘Some weedy fucker.’
‘Describe him to me.’
He shrugged.
‘Was he white, black?’
‘White, six foot, average.’
‘Colour of his hair?’
‘Brown.’
‘What did you do? Did you follow them?’
‘Yeah. I wanted to see; make sure.’
‘Did you?’
Niall shrugged. ‘I saw enough. That dead woman – Emily Styles – that’s the only time I’ve seen her. They went their separate ways at the station. I’m not
saying it was definitely something going on but there could have been. You know what I mean?’
‘So you went to her flat to talk about it? Yeah, and?’
‘We rowed, sure. She told me to fuck off.’
‘Did she admit to seeing someone from the college?’
‘She didn’t deny it.’
Carter watched Manson – he was telling the truth.
Jeanie watched Carter arrive and park up before she left Tracy, and went out to talk to him in private. She waved for him to stay where he was and got into the passenger
seat.
‘How is she?’ he asked.
‘She’s very shaken,’ said Jeanie.
‘Did he demand a ransom?’
‘No. Do you think he will?’
‘I don’t know,’ said Carter. ‘He had months to make contact in Emily’s case but the Styles were never contacted either to ask for money for her release or to taunt
them like this. And yet we know she was alive all that time.’ Jeanie looked back at the house as she thought. The lounge was lit up. She saw Tracy hugging Jackson as they walked past the
lounge window.
Jeanie looked across at Carter. His face was dark. The sky outside was grey. Overhead the clouds were full of snow.
‘He phoned Tracy to tell her he had her daughter and to involve her in her daughter’s suffering. If she’s in the loop we could use it.’
‘In the loop?’ Jeanie looked at him incredulously. ‘So we feed him Tracy to heighten his pleasure?’
‘I was thinking more that we could work on her being a human side to this. A mother figure, someone he might build a rapport with.’
‘We are talking Tracy – who gave away her only child for adoption and has more make-up than Boots the chemist?’
Carter smiled. ‘You’re a miracle worker, Jeanie – think about it for me at least.’
‘Yeah. I’ll file it under “more stupid ideas from Dan”.’
They watched Tracy come to stand at the window.
‘I’m going to have to tell her everything we know now,’ Jeanie said. ‘It’s only fair she is told about Emily Styles.’