Scarred for Life (14 page)

Eventually, Archie handed it back. ‘Thank you,’ he said, as James returned it to the case. ‘I wish I’d tried a bit harder at things now. I can’t even imagine the amount of work that must have gone into winning that.’

James closed the cabinet and batted Archie away with a ‘bah!’ and a grin.

‘What I think my colleague was trying to establish,’ Archie said, ‘was how much contact you have with members of the club. You said you make the odd phone call . . .’

This time, James replied instantly. ‘Sometimes a few of them need a little encouragement, especially ahead of the big races. I have a word in their ears. I don’t remember the names half the time but they just need someone to tell them they can do it. It’s always better if it’s someone who’s been there and seen things.’

Jessica couldn’t help but wonder exactly which type of things he might have seen.

‘I thought you said he must’ve fallen in if he’d only won bronze,’ Jessica said as Archie drove – a privilege she rarely allowed anyone if she was in the car too.

‘I was hardly going to say that to him.’

‘So what do you really feel? Were you actually impressed by the medal?’

Archie kept one hand on the steering wheel and glanced sideways at her, grinning. ‘You do what you have to.’

That didn’t answer her question but Jessica let it go. ‘What do you think of him?’

‘He doesn’t seem to know much. I doubt he knew Damon’s name and he barely seemed to know Holden. He’s just someone they wheel out a few times a year – literally and figuratively. He probably likes the attention but doesn’t want to admit it, while they like being able to mention his name because he’s actually done something and most of them haven’t.’

Jessica agreed: it was an uncomfortable marriage of convenience.

As they headed back to the station, Jessica called Cole. He answered on the fourth ring, then asked her to wait. The line sounded dead as he put her on hold until, eventually, he returned with: ‘How was he?’

Jessica explained that James had told them very little.

‘As expected,’ Cole replied.

‘Is anything else going on?’

‘The other members of the rowing club have had a slight change of heart. When they’ve been asked specifically to remember when they saw Mr Wyatt on the night of the party, most can only say for certain that he was there at the beginning.’

In other words, they’d all subtly changed their stories.

‘Does that mean Holden no longer has an alibi for the night Damon was killed?’

‘That’s how it seems.’

‘How can we accept that a whole group of people have changed their statements at the same time?’

‘Before, we had a lot of people to interview in a short period. Now we’re asking very specific questions about timings and who saw what and when.’

Jessica knew that was how a lawyer might dress things up but it was nonsense. The students had previously told them that Holden had been present for the whole party. Now they were saying differently.

‘Some have said they’d heard rumours that Damon was going to go public about the hazing activities,’ Cole added. ‘That would give a motive.’

Jessica couldn’t hold back: ‘More like they’ve changed their stories because they’re all worried about their own roles in the initiations and they’ll say anything that gets them off the hook.’

‘Weren’t you the one who brought Holden in for questioning because you thought he knew more about the death than he was letting on?’

‘Yes, but—’

‘But what? This is only confirming what you were speculating about. Results have started to come back from everything that was found in the bin. There’s a trace of Holden on at least two separate items.’

‘Of course there is – he was at the club, no one’s disputing his whereabouts.’

‘That may be the case but, alongside his confession earlier and the statements from other club members, it’s all painting a picture.’

‘Are you saying Holden killed Damon and dumped the body in the bin at the back of the one place where it would be linked back to him?’

Cole coughed. ‘I’m not saying anything – that’s for you to figure out.’

Jessica had to think carefully about what to say next but there was no easy way. ‘It sounds like we’re fitting him up for this.’

For a few moments, it was as if everything had stopped. Archie came to a halt at a set of traffic lights and his head flicked towards her. Jessica felt a tingle along her back in the moment of silence. The investigation into events surrounding the arrest and conviction of the Stretford Slasher twenty-five years ago was still going on, with the report due in the new year. ‘Fitted up’ were two words they simply didn’t use together.

‘You’re on very thin ice, Inspector.’

‘Sir, I—’

‘You nothing. Do
not
continue to question the decisions that are made around here. You’ve been on a loose chain for a very long time – something I blame myself for. If the message hasn’t yet got through then I’ll make myself very clear: this is the end of the road for not doing things properly. Now do your job and get the rest of the evidence against Holden Wyatt.’

The reply stuck in Jessica’s throat before she finally coughed it out. By the time she’d mumbled an apology she didn’t feel was deserved, he had already hung up.

Another say-nothing ride.

Back at the station, it was almost the end of shift and Jessica didn’t want to talk to anyone anyway. She mumbled a ‘see you tomorrow’ to Archie, strode through to her office, grabbed her stuff, and then marched back out again, ignoring Fat Pat complaining that she hadn’t yet signed something she was supposed to.

She turned the radio off in her car and drove home in the usual stop-start-stop-stop-stop-stop-stop-stop-stop-start traffic, alone with her thoughts. For once, the commute didn’t bother her because she didn’t feel anything. Cole had been her friend – without him she wouldn’t be at work. Now he was just another colleague. Something really had changed.

Slowly she manoeuvred her way back to Swinton as if on autopilot, remembering nothing of the journey. She pulled onto the driveway of the house she shared with Adam at the same time as the sun dipped over the horizon for the day. The area was bathed in a strange mix of daylight and night, orange street lights and white headlamps, and yet Jessica was out of the car, key in hand, reaching for the front door before she noticed Bex sitting on her doorstep, subdued smile on her face.

‘You did say you had a spare room . . .’

16

For a young woman thinner than most children, Bex really could eat. In the yellowy glow of Jessica’s kitchen, the teenager wolfed down anything put in front of her. Her black hair was balled underneath a woollen bobble hat, with only a few wisps dangling around her face. Jessica was struck by how pale the girl was, even though there were no obvious signs she was ill in any way other than being under-nourished. Bex kept her canvas rucksack underneath her feet protectively, not wanting to take her fleece off either. Jessica understood that living on the streets meant that looking after your possessions was imperative, so it was no real surprise.

‘Do you want anything else?’ Jessica asked, having already turned six slices of bread into cheese and pickle toasties, which Bex had topped off with two bags of cheesy Wotsits (Adam’s), a pork pie (Adam’s), a sausage roll (Adam’s), half a packet of sliced ham (theirs), a bowl of Coco Pops (Adam’s), a beef and tomato Pot Noodle (hers, although there were loads more), an apple (Adam’s), two nectarines (Adam’s) and half a box of fish fingers (theirs).

Jessica half-hoped Bex hadn’t spotted the Cadbury’s caramel bars (Jessica’s), chocolate biscuits (Jessica’s), non-chocolate biscuits (Jessica’s), Chunky Monkey Ben & Jerry’s (Jessica’s), or bag of doughnuts shoved to the back of the bread bin (Jessica’s), and might instead go for the low-fat, low-taste, girly yoghurts in the door of the fridge (Adam’s).

Bex fiddled with her nose ring and patted her tiny frame which had defeated all physiological laws by packing so much into it. ‘Maybe in a bit?’

She grinned and it changed everything about her, even if it didn’t seem to come entirely naturally.

‘If you’ve got any dirty clothes, I can put a wash on?’ Jessica said.

Bex glanced away from her towards the door, shaking her head. ‘I shouldn’t have come . . .’

‘I wouldn’t have given you my address if you weren’t welcome. We can get the lezzer stuff out of the way later.’

They caught each other’s gaze and Jessica dissolved into a childish fit of giggles. Bex smiled but there were delicate dimples in her cheeks, matching the one in her chin and offering a wonderful sense of fun. That was until she stopped grinning; then her eyes showed her youth and vulnerability.

‘Are you really a police officer?’ she asked.

‘Yes.’

‘You don’t seem like one.’

‘What do you think a police officer should be like?’

‘The ones out at night are usually right twats.’

A perfectly accurate description of a select few of Jessica’s colleagues.

‘Some of us are normal people.’

Jessica took the dirty plates and moved them to the sink (Adam’s). ‘Do you want the tour?’

‘I only need a place for tonight. Last night was really cold and—’

‘Stay for as long as you want. It’s almost winter and we live in the north. The weather’s always shite anyway.’

Bex didn’t reply but she hoiked her backpack over her shoulders as Jessica led them into the living room. ‘This is where we waste our lives in front of the TV.’

‘We?’

‘My boyfriend and me. Well, fiancé. Well, sort of, it’s complicated.’

Bex’s eyes darted left to right and she took a step backwards towards the hallway. ‘I, er, didn’t realise.’

‘It’s fine, why would you?’ Bex mumbled something about not wanting to be a burden but Jessica cut across her. ‘Honestly, it’s fine. He’s called Adam. He’s cool, he’s normal. Well, he’s into sci-fi but everyone seems to be nowadays. At least it’s not slasher porn.’

Jessica tried to make a joke of it but Bex was backing further out of the room and Jessica had to stride quickly to catch her before she was at the door. She put a hand on the teenager’s shoulder but the girl flinched away.

‘Sorry,’ Jessica said.

‘It’s fine; I think I should go.’

‘You don’t have to. Honestly, Adam’s fine – no one’s going to harm you here.’

‘I know, I—’

‘Bex, I’m a police officer – do you really think I’d be living with some nutter? I’ve got enough of them at work.’

Jessica placed her hands on the girl’s shoulders again and this time Bex didn’t flinch. Slowly she tilted her head upwards until they were looking at each other. ‘Okay.’

‘Shall we have a look around upstairs?’

‘All right.’

Jessica first showed her the bedroom she shared with Adam and even got a smile as Bex asked why one half was strewn with clothes, shoes, books, a television remote control and an empty plate while the other was spotless. Jessica’s reasoning was identical to the explanation she had given her mother after being scolded.

1) The bed wasn’t quite in the centre of the room, which created a subtle optical illusion that she and Adam had equal space. The truth was that he had approximately four centimetres more space on his side of the bed, which, multiplied by the length of the room, meant that she had correspondingly less room to store her stuff.

2) Adam wore, essentially, the same clothes to work as he wore around the house, meaning he had far fewer items to pack away. She, on the other hand, needed an increasingly more complex choice of clothing to accommodate many different scenarios, meaning there was no sensible way she could be expected to neatly fold, or hang, everything she owned.

3) Adam slept on the window side of the bed, meaning there was marginally less light on her side of the room. Because of that, when she got dressed in the mornings, it was often advantageous to have clothes nearby – even if that meant them being on the floor.

4) There was a complex system of organisation on show that was far too understated for most human eyes to appreciate. Items were sorted by cleanliness, colour, appropriateness for work and by how much she liked them. That occasionally meant that a few things ended up on the floor, rather than in drawers or the wardrobe. Because of the multifaceted nature of the system, there was no way she could explain it in anything approaching a dumbed-down way that people could understand.

Jessica never got to 5) because Bex cut her off: ‘Basically, you’re a bit messy.’

‘That too – but if you ever tell Adam, then you’re out on your arse.’

Bex smiled and Jessica was laughing again too. After her day at work and the way Cole had been with her, this wasn’t at all what she’d expected.

Jessica showed Bex the smallest upstairs room, which was filled with a handful of boxes they hadn’t yet unpacked and an exercise bike she had bought, used once, and then never gone near again. In the bathroom, Jessica picked up the wet towel from the floor which she’d forgotten about that morning, telling Bex that Adam must have left it by accident, then she led the teenager into the final bedroom.

‘This is where you can sleep,’ Jessica said.

Bex stood in the doorway, peering at the space. ‘It’s really nice . . .’

‘It was going to be a nursery but then . . . well, it didn’t happen. We did it up as a guest bedroom.’

‘It’s got a double bed.’

‘I know.’

Bex sat on it, bouncing gently, dropping her bag behind her. ‘I’ve never slept in a double bed before.’

‘Make the most of it. I sleep in a double bed but I’ve got some skinny string bean next to me who spreads out like a drunken spider. Half the time I wake up with an elbow in my eye.’

From below, the sound of the door opening and a loud ‘I’m home’ echoed through the house. Bex froze again but Jessica touched her gently on the arm. ‘It’s just Adam – let’s go and meet him.’

Bex instinctively reached for her bag but Jessica gripped her delicately. ‘It’ll be fine here. No one will touch it.’ Bex hesitated for a moment and then nodded. ‘As long as you stay here, I won’t even come into this room if you don’t want me to,’ Jessica added.