Authors: Kerry Wilkinson
The other problem was that the Longsight station was becoming less and less of a respite too. Avoiding Rowlands was hard to do, meaning she either spent all of her time in her office, or made
sure she travelled in a pair, walking around with DS Cornish or someone nearby if she needed to go anywhere.
They were still dealing with the fall-out of the Moss Side disturbance too, with half of the cells still full three days after it had happened. The enormous police presence on the morning after
had worked in one way, with the media backing rather than criticising them, although even that had an edge to it, the insinuation being they should shoot anyone under the age of eighteen who
happened to be on the streets after dark. Jessica knew one or two people within the station who probably shared that view but that wasn’t helping either.
With at least two area taskforces being set up, as well as the shifting of resources to the gang crime unit, few officers seemed to know what they were supposed to be doing. It wasn’t
helping that DI Reynolds hadn’t yet been replaced.
What also wasn’t helping was that ever since she had been drawn into the whisky-drinking with Nicholas, Jessica could feel something wasn’t right with her body. For the first few
days, she had put it down to her own stupidity but it had gone past that now. The constant tiredness was something she had experienced in the past but her limbs were beginning to ache and she
frequently felt hungry, even after just eating. She woke each morning knowing she should visit the doctor but not wanting to hear what he might have to say. At the same time, she feared she would
burst into tears and be signed off work with stress.
Instead, Jessica kept acting as if nothing was wrong.
She was somewhat surprised to be called into an early morning briefing by Cole, and even more concerned when he told her to come to the media room rather than his office. Although it was
technically called the Press Pad, most officers went out of their way to call it anything but. The reasons for his choice of location became clear when Jessica saw the number of people there,
including Izzy, three other detective constables and a handful of uniformed officers.
Not to mention Rowlands.
Rather than talking at them, the chairs had been arranged into a near-circle. Jessica deliberately sat a quarter of the way around from Rowlands, next to the chief inspector. It was far enough
away not to have to speak to him but not opposite, meaning she didn’t have to look at him either. Small briefings she could deal with, but this was the type of corporate shite she hated:
‘blue-sky thinking’, ‘pushing the envelope’, ‘moving forward’, ‘thinking outside the box’ and any number of other made-up phrases that people came up
with. Basically, let’s all sit in a circle and talk at each other until someone pulls out a weapon and puts everyone out of their misery.
Cole offered her a weak smile and she wondered how things had been going with his wife. They hadn’t had any time alone since they had talked in the gardens outside Kayleigh’s house
and they had never had a close enough relationship for her to assume she could ask. She knew she wasn’t one to talk but the areas under his eyes were dark and the wrinkles on his forehead
seemed to have doubled over the past month or so. He looked as if he could do with an entire weekend in bed.
After everyone had settled, Cole explained that things were awkward with officers being pulled in all directions, often with no notice. Through careful negotiating, he had managed to ensure that
everyone in the room, with the exception of himself, would be free to continue investigating the deaths of Oliver, Kayleigh and, almost by default, Nicholas Long. He did point out that the Serious
Crime Division were also investigating Nicholas’s activities, although they hadn’t yet taken on the man’s death because they weren’t too keen on looking into the elements
relating to Oliver and Kayleigh. It was typical that the deaths of real people were being thought of as an impediment, rather than a spur into action.
After a few introductions, he told them time for briefings such as this would be at a premium in the coming weeks, so they should get as much out into the open as possible and share any
ideas.
‘I do have some early results from Nicholas’s body,’ he added. ‘It’s as we expected. He died from asphyxiation in much the same way as Oliver and Kayleigh.
There’s an additional gash in his head from where it looks like he hit his head and a significant amount of pressure was placed on the bottom of his spine.’
‘Was anything found at the scene?’ one of the keener constables asked.
‘You should all have diagrams and photos of the area. The sink is covered in fingerprints, so identifying any that don’t belong to staff members, or Nicholas himself, is going to
take some time, if not prove impossible. A handgun was recovered from the scene but the numbers match what we have on file for a weapon legally registered to Nicholas himself. It shouldn’t
have been out of his house but that’s a different issue. Taking anything from that is proving difficult given the fact it was found in a puddle of urine. They’ve taken the whole of the
fire exit door to check as well.’
Cole tried to explain how someone could open a fire exit from the outside but wasn’t doing a good job, so Rowlands talked everyone through it. Jessica stared off into the distance but was
unsurprised he knew the trick. The chief inspector emphasised that it only worked on old-style doors and that most buildings weren’t so easy to get into. He also pointed out that none of this
ignored the possibility that someone who worked in the club had deliberately left it open.
Jessica talked the officers through Scott and Liam’s statements, as well as her additional chats with them both.
Izzy had not had the most productive of times speaking to the female workers. None of them seemed to share the disdain for Nicholas that Eleanor did but the constable described it as a
consistent mix of fear and awe, something Jessica could understand from her dealings with the man. None of them would open up further than describing their own movements on the night Nicholas had
been killed. It also seemed apparent a few of them were working without the knowledge of their family, something which complicated things further.
Jessica talked about the impression Leviticus and Ruby had given her of the man and they all knew about the suspicions around his business dealings and the position he held within the community.
Finding someone with a motive was never going to be difficult, which left them trying to connect possible suspects back to Kayleigh and Oliver’s killings.
Two officers were tasked with tracing back everything they had in their files that could link the three people, with another small group working with the local CCTV footage. The initial
examinations had found nothing from the cameras around the streets and Jessica doubted they’d get anything. It was still worth looking into, despite how time-consuming it would be.
When one of the officers asked who was likely to be taking on the business, Jessica said she had heard Long’s son Nicky seemed probable.
‘We’ve tried to make contact with both Nicky and his stepmother, Tia, but neither have so far been that cooperative,’ Cole added. ‘We took a statement with a few of the
basics in, such as the fact that Nicholas often doesn’t arrive home from the club until five or six in the morning, but not much more.’
Another officer was given the task of finding out anything about Nicky, although Jessica knew it would be a struggle because of his age.
As they were getting ready to split up, Cole did reveal one interesting fact, insisting it couldn’t leave the room. ‘Serious Crime are going big on getting access to the filing
cabinets at Nicholas’s club,’ he said. ‘They’re off to court later this week to try to argue they have the right to search them. Basically, if you’re at the premises,
stay away. If you’re not, forget I ever said this.’
Jessica hung around, waiting until it was just her and Cole, noting that Rowlands hadn’t stopped to chat. Although the chief inspector had stood to send everyone on their way, he then sank
back into his seat, as Jessica dragged hers around so she could see him face to face.
‘Is everything all right?’ she asked.
Cole offered a short ‘fine’ without looking at her, letting her know that any conversation unrelated to work was off limits.
She knew the feeling.
‘Do SCD think they’ll win in court?’ she asked.
His demeanour brightened as he laughed at the suggestion. ‘They’ve got no chance, they’re just trying it on. If they had enough evidence before, they would already have the
files. They’re hoping they’ll get a lenient judge because of everything that happened in Moss Side this week. Nicholas’s wife has a lawyer on the case to stop anything we
do.’
Jessica remembered Leviticus telling her how meticulous Nicholas was with his record-keeping, although one thing had always bothered her about the statement. ‘What I don’t get is why
someone like Nicholas would keep records of everything if it might come back to bite him at some point. He must have known the agencies were desperate to get hold of them?’
Cole smiled, but the wrinkles around his eyes folded into one, making him look even more tired. ‘Why would Richard Nixon record everything that went on in the Oval Office? It’s not
to do with knowing it could implicate you, it’s the arrogance of assuming it won’t matter.’
Jessica couldn’t argue, having seen the man’s ego close up.
‘I need to visit Nicky,’ she said.
‘I know.’
‘Are Serious Crime going to mind?’
‘Probably, but what they don’t know and all that . . .’ Jessica couldn’t be sure but she thought he had winked at her. ‘We’re going to have to be
careful,’ he added.
He was already on his feet before Jessica realised that meant he was coming too.
Despite the length of time they had worked together, Jessica had never been in Cole’s vehicle. He had a 4x4 that was under a year old and drove like Jessica’s mum,
which was the worst insult she could think of. Actually, sod that, he drove like her grandmother, who’d been dead for years.
When she was younger, Jessica had always liked going in a car alone with her father but every journey would be prefaced with the words ‘don’t tell your mother’. While her dad
would zip around the local country roads and speed up over the humpback bridges, her mum would stick rigidly to the speed limit and obey every road sign. She often wondered if it was this which led
to her driving having a bad reputation around the station.
Their journey south into Didsbury was conducted mainly in silence, the tick-tocking of the indicator and the dull poshness of the person on the radio providing a backdrop to a life Jessica knew
she had to avoid.
Jessica used to live in the area herself, although Nicholas’s house was in a far more affluent spot. Her flat had been part of a newly built development of townhouses just off the main
road but the property they were heading to was a mile past that at the back of a housing estate with a cul de sac to itself. If you hadn’t known it was there, you wouldn’t have found
it, with signs sending you off to the nearby rugby and golf clubs and no indication there were any additional houses.
Cole drove steadily, with the air of someone who knew the area well, skipping along a selection of side streets and avoiding the major commuter routes.
There were no huge gates or enormous walls shielding Nicholas Long’s property from the rest of the road as Cole pulled onto the driveway, which itself was an intricate pattern of yellow
and red brickwork. Jessica stepped out of the car, peering behind to find the yellow bricks under her feet spelling out an enormous upside-down ‘NL’ when set against the red. She walked
along the length of the letters, which curled into each other, showing an intricacy of design which would have been impressive had it been in calligraphy, let alone created with bricks in a
driveway.
The house was in a mock-Tudor style similar to the school she had visited, with vast thick black beams offset against bright white walls. Jessica couldn’t see how far the property went
back, but there were three wings, as well as a central block that had a huge wooden door, styled to look like a drawbridge. A separate building off to their left had huge garage doors in the same
style at the front, big enough to fit at least three cars side by side.
‘We’re in the wrong business,’ Cole muttered as a joke, but he was only half-wrong. For all these years, Nicholas had somehow found a way to stay out of trouble and this was
the house he had built with the proceeds. That came on the back of everything Leviticus had, which, despite his protests of feeling trapped in a prison, she knew full well had also been funded
partially through the misery of others.
Wrong business indeed.
How to announce their arrival baffled them both for a few moments before Jessica realised the handle hanging next to the door which she thought was decorative was actually a doorbell. It
reminded her of flushing the old-fashioned toilets in her primary school but she pulled the chain and they heard a tinkling tune from inside.
Jessica’s stomach was rumbling uncomfortably in the way she had become used to ignoring but after a minute or so, they heard a heavy bolt being withdrawn before the door swung open. A
small woman with dark curly hair and a purple uniform stood looking at them quizzically. Her accent sounded Eastern European, although Jessica couldn’t deny she had a better grasp of English
than many of the local youngsters they picked up.
She told them to sit on a sofa just across the threshold, carefully bolting the door back into place and disappearing into an adjacent room.
Leviticus’s property had been impressive but it wasn’t a patch on Nicholas’s. The insides kept the same style as the exterior, large dark beams running along the walls,
interspersed with fake candles. Everything they could see, from the sofa they were sitting on, to a large table opposite, to the frames around the doors, was made of the same thick heavy-looking
wood. Jessica could see why Nicholas employed a maid; keeping everything tidy would be a fulltime job in itself.