Authors: Kerry Wilkinson
‘Yes please.’
Scott began to lower his arms slowly as Rowlands moved closer to the hatch. In a moment that seemed to take both a millisecond and an hour, Jessica knew what was going to happen; the clues had
been there all along. Cole had told her the Serious Crime Division had been looking to pin illegal weapon possession on Nicholas but had never managed it.
Liam’s words from days ago raced through her mind and she realised he had been trying to warn her what was going on without deliberately betraying his boss.
‘
. . . He has different ideas, dangerous ideas. His dad knew what to leave at home and what to bring here . . .
’
Scott reached under the bar quicker than Dave could move and pulled out a sawn-off shotgun, bringing it to eye level to cover the constable. Rowlands stopped moving, holding his hands up in
surrender.
Everything happened in slow motion, Scott slowly turning the gun around until it was pointing at her, as Dave spoke clearly: ‘He’s got a gun.’
It was for the benefit of the officers listening outside but Scott’s face screwed up in confusion.
With the weapon facing away from him, Rowlands took a half-step forward but Jessica knew he had misjudged the situation. Before she could say anything, it was too late. Scott swung around,
pointed the gun at the constable’s chest, and pulled the trigger.
After finding out almost everything she needed, Jessica phoned Cole to tell him what she knew, asking him to set the wheels in motion for a warrant. They only had
circumstantial evidence but it would probably be enough. Before that, she had one final person to visit, although she had to be quick.
Liam was stunned as he opened his front door to see Jessica standing there. She had been surprised to find he lived a few streets away from where the disturbances had been nights earlier. A
large clean-up had been in force in the days since she had last been to Moss Side and there was now no trace of the burned-out cars.
‘Can I come in?’ Jessica asked as Liam eyed her partly out of suspicion but largely out of confusion.
He didn’t speak for a few moments, instead tilting his head as if he would somehow be able to understand her true motive that way. Eventually, he waved her in before poking his head out of
the front door to have a look around. She guessed cooperating with the police wasn’t the most popular of choices in this particular area.
Jessica walked through to a kitchen that was so clean, she automatically assumed someone else lived there. It was only when she asked him if they were alone that he told her he lived by himself.
She sat on a stool next to a table in the centre of the room that was so tall her feet couldn’t touch the floor, leaving her uncomfortable and unbalanced.
Liam didn’t bother to sit, pacing from one side of the kitchen to the other. ‘You shouldn’t be here,’ he said.
‘You didn’t have to let me in.’
‘I didn’t know what you were here for. It’s safer to talk indoors than it is to be seen with one of you out there.’
‘Why do you think I’m here?’
Jessica didn’t think he would answer but figured it was worth a try. She guessed he could probably reveal any number of things if he wanted to.
He said nothing, stopping pacing to lean against a counter top. ‘I’ve got to go to work soon.’
‘Where were you on the night Nicholas Long died?’ Jessica asked.
She saw his nose twitch but his reply was almost instant. ‘I was playing computer games with Scott.’
‘At whose house?’
‘His. I told you that.’
‘What games did you play?’
Liam shook his head, breathing loudly. ‘Football probably.’
‘Which team did you play as?’
‘I don’t know, different ones. What does it matter?’
He wasn’t getting flustered by the questions but was certainly struggling not to raise his voice, even though she doubted it would sound any more menacing because of how high-pitched it
was.
‘I spent this morning going through CCTV footage,’ Jessica lied. ‘It’s taken us ages because there’s hardly any around but considering you left together – and
spent the early hours of the morning together – it’s pretty strange there’s footage of each of you going your separate ways.’
Liam didn’t speak, drumming his fingers on the counter. Jessica resisted the urge to look towards the knife rack she had seen on the way in, even though it was closer to her than him,
desperate to trust her instincts.
‘I don’t believe you,’ he said eventually, although he didn’t sound so sure.
‘I can take you to the station and show you if you’d prefer?’
She knew she had him when his eyes flickered towards the back door. As quickly as they had shifted, they moved back to her. Liam’s voice was shaking as he finally replied.
‘It’s not what you think.’
‘What do I think?’
Liam’s eyes continued darting from side to side. Jessica could see his grip on the counter hardening, the muscles in his shoulders rippling through his shirt.
‘I didn’t kill him.’
‘I never said you did.’
Liam paused, not knowing if he should believe her. ‘I . . . can’t tell you.’
Jessica hadn’t known for certain Liam’s alibi had been made up but she had suspected it ever since things began to fall into place.
‘Maybe you should try me?’
Liam’s upper arms were beginning to shake but Jessica felt a calmness, unthreatened despite his size. ‘You wouldn’t understand what it’s like,’ he said.
‘It’s not easy being like this when you’re supposed to be a tough guy.’
Jessica was initially confused, thinking he meant his size. When he realised she didn’t get it, Liam pushed himself up from the unit, picking up a tea towel from a cupboard handle and
beginning to dry up. Jessica turned to look at him but he was deliberately facing the other way.
‘There’s this old public toilet block on my way home,’ he said. ‘I walk back after work most evenings and it’s at that time of night when hardly anyone is
around.’
He reached to place a mug onto a shelf above him.
‘And that’s where you were that night?’
‘Yes.’
‘Does Scott know about what you do there?’
‘Yes.’
‘So why did he insist you were with him?’
Liam turned to face her, holding a second mug in one hand and the tea towel in the other. ‘Because I asked him to. He’s not going to get into trouble, is he?’
Jessica didn’t know what to say. Liam not wanting his friend to get into trouble was admirable as she realised how clever Scott had been.
It was still circumstantial but with the theory that Kayleigh was pregnant with Nicholas’s baby – however willing or not she had been in the process – the thought had occurred
to Jessica that perhaps there was another son out there.
That hadn’t given her all of the answers but because Kayleigh had never registered a child, Jessica guessed it must have been given up or left somewhere anonymously. As Izzy checked the
adoption records, Jessica went through the newspaper archives with Garry, assuming one of them would find something.
She wouldn’t have discovered any of that had it not been for the initial idea which led her to Kenneth. When she had seen Nicky’s gums bleeding, Jessica realised it was the third
time she had seen blood in the club. Nicholas had had a nosebleed – but Scott had been sucking his finger on the very first occasion she had visited the place, throwing a reddened tissue in
the bin as he tried to stop the cut bleeding. As they left, his finger was still in his mouth, the blood flow refusing to stop.
Kenneth’s explanation for why the bleeding could run in the family wasn’t proof of anything but Jessica couldn’t think past Scott being Kayleigh and Nicholas’s child
– even if he had an alibi for everything.
Of course, as with his mother, Scott knew that if you wanted someone to do something for you, the best way was to ensure they thought it was their own idea.
Liam had made it easy because he’d told Scott the secret about what he got up to in the public toilets after hours. Scott just had to bide his time until an evening where Nicholas was
particularly drunk and then he could act, safe in the knowledge that when Liam saw what had happened the following day, he would contact him in a panic knowing he didn’t have an alibi.
Scott had ensured he had a reason why he couldn’t be the killer and hadn’t even needed to ask.
When Jessica didn’t reply, Liam repeated his question with more edge to his voice. ‘He’s not going to get into trouble, is he? It wasn’t Scott’s idea. I should be
the one in trouble.’
‘He won’t get in trouble for this,’ Jessica replied.
Liam didn’t realise the specific meaning of what she’d said; the possibility that Scott could be involved in Nicholas’s murder seemingly hadn’t occurred to him.
He put the mug on the shelf and placed the tea towel on the draining board. ‘I know you have no reason to believe me but it is the truth. I wouldn’t have hurt Nicholas, I
promise.’
Jessica started to move towards the door.
‘Is that it?’ Liam asked, surprised.
‘Yes, but I might need to come by the club later. Are you all going to be there?’
‘I suppose so, I’m opening up.’
‘What time will you be there until?’
‘Probably one in the morning or so.’
‘Everyone? You, Scott, Nicky and the girls?’
‘Yes.’
Jessica reached into her pocket and took out a business card, flipping it over and taking out a pen to write her mobile number on it. ‘If any staff member leaves, let me know.’
‘Nicky?’
Jessica said nothing but she could understand why he thought that. ‘Anyone,’ she repeated.
She walked quickly towards the front door. As her hand closed around the handle Liam spoke quietly. ‘Just remember everything I told you at the club,’ he said.
Jessica didn’t know exactly what he meant but, as her phone began to ring, she knew it would be Cole to say the warrant had been granted.
Two plain-clothes officers had been sent to the club to make sure Scott was there and didn’t leave as Cole, Jessica and a specialist team raided his flat. Jessica thought
hanging around a strip club sounded like easy work if you could get it.
Scott had a mortgage on a flat on the edge of an estate bordering Eccles and Salford. When Cole had given her the address over the phone, Jessica winced as she knew the area well. The estate was
in the shadow of a large tower block. When she had started in uniform, a large number of their call-outs were to the district. Although things were a lot better now, back then a few of her
colleagues had referred to the area as ‘needlepoint’. Officers had dreaded the Friday and Saturday night reports of fights or overdoses.
When they had confirmation of where Scott was, the tactical entry team got them into his property as discreetly as possible using a drill as opposed to a battering ram, since they didn’t
want to risk alerting anyone else if at all possible. Although it was still loud, no one appeared to notice them in the fading light. Jessica supposed that, given the area, the last thing most
people wanted to do was question their neighbours about why they might be making so much noise.
Three other members of the search team entered first, with Jessica and Cole at the rear, leaving one final person to hold the door closed from the inside and at least give the impression it
hadn’t been forced.
The front door opened directly into a living room. As the other officers moved into the rest of the property, Jessica and Cole began in the lounge.
‘I don’t get why we didn’t just arrest him?’ Jessica whispered.
‘Why are you whispering?’ the chief inspector replied out loud, although not quite at full volume.
Jessica moved across to a cabinet next to the television and opened the top drawer. Inside were rows of computer games. ‘Why don’t we just arrest him?’ she repeated.
‘The super reckons that if we’re wrong, it’s easier to apologise for a mix-up here than it is to be sued for wrongful arrest. It’s cover-your-back thinking.’
That sounded about right, though Jessica didn’t reply, seeing as he might as well have said ‘if
you’re
wrong’.
As she closed the drawer and looked around, she thought Scott’s flat was typical of someone his age. There was a large television, with various electrical items underneath, but little else
in the way of decor. She tried to remember what her priorities might have been when she was in her early twenties but it seemed such a long time ago.
She left the chief inspector in the living room, walking through the closest door into what turned out to be a kitchen. Her eyes were drawn to the grubby rings on the top of the cooker. She
skimmed through the cupboards, not looking for anything specifically – even if the array of dry and tinned foods was unerringly close to what she used to buy before moving in with Adam.
There were many occasions where she almost felt guilty for her upbringing, as if having two parents who cared for her was something she should apologise for. So many people used their lack of a
settled family life as the reason for the actions they chose to make. She felt an urge to try to see things from another angle but Scott had done things you couldn’t just say sorry for.
As Jessica wandered into a hallway, she saw one of the other officers walking towards her. Without speaking, he beckoned her into a bedroom, pointing to a shoebox that had been pulled out from
under the bed.
‘I think that’s what you’re after,’ he said quietly.
Jessica sat on the floor, leaning against the bed. She could see instantly what was on top of the box. She remembered Leviticus Bryan’s words: ‘He keeps impeccable records of
everything; staff, accounts, who owes him money, the lot.’
She was holding a sheet of paper that had clearly come from Nicholas’s filing cabinets. It was on the type of printer paper she remembered from school: perforated holes along either side,
and rigid grey type.
As Jessica read, she wondered at which point Scott had figured out who his father was. He had been left outside Nicholas’s casino and then taken into care but it was perhaps no wonder that
when he was old enough to understand what had happened to him as a baby, he felt drawn back towards the man who owned that place. Perhaps he recognised the way they both bled? Maybe he saw
something facially?