Time to Play (North East Police) (31 page)

‘OK great, get yourself off home, Tony. We’ll catch up when you get back in tomorrow,’ said Ali.

‘My turn,’ said Cass, ‘I need to get back for Izzy. The whole scene’s been photographed – we’ve taken a couple of casts of footwear marks from the mud at the edge of the car park where the path meets. They’ve already been looked at by the footwear technician who hasn’t got anything matching on the database. The fingernail scrapes from each victim have gone for DNA but I reckon the best chance of an ident is from the last girl to be dumped.

‘All the usable plastic sheets have been sent for chemical after being dried, and I know Jeff’s coming in early to do it tomorrow. It’ll take him a while like, he has to cut them to fit in the superglue chamber and I know Andrea, the assistant lab tech there, is off on leave at the minute. From the looks of the trace, we’ve got a few hairs that don’t match the vic’s, doesn’t look like there’s any roots but mitochondrial might be usable if we have the killer’s mum’s DNA on file. The clothing the girls had on was pretty generic, Primarni’s best, most of it. Just usual stuff kids of that age would wear. The rope has been retained but will probably be too contaminated to yield any evidence, best we’ll get is manufacturer info and where the local sellers are.’

‘OK, Cass, thanks. I haven’t had my thumbnails from the PMs or the scene yet though. Can you chase up whomever you’ve got tasked and get them over to me asap so I can put them in the file?’ He referred to the thumbnail-sized images of the photos taken by the CSIs.

‘Yup, Johnny’s doing them as we speak,’ replied Cass with a grin.

‘Just pop outside with me for a sec,’ said Ali, needing to speak with Cass privately.

‘Have you spoken to Alex today?’

‘Yeah, briefly when we left the house and through a couple of texts. Why?’

‘Has he mentioned his theory to you?’

‘Oh you mean that his case possibly overlaps with yours? Yeah, we talked about it last night. I’ve mentioned to submissions to compare the nail scrapings to Connor’s dad’s DNA. His PM is scheduled for tomorrow, I think, but don’t quote me on that. Kev’s handling it. I’ll mail him and ask him to update you as well as Alex if you like?’

‘Yeah, if you don’t mind. Is Mum at yours this evening?’

‘Yeah, her and Elvie are having dinner with us. Then they’re coming back to yours, so you’ll have to go to Marlo’s if you want to get your end away,’ teased Cass crudely.

Ali couldn’t stop the blush burning its way all the way from his neck to his forehead.

‘It’s a good thing, Ali. You’re too nice a guy to be single and focussed on your career so much. Marlo brings out the smiles in you. Maybe it’ll turn into something, maybe it won’t – but it damn sure wouldn’t hurt to give it a go.’

‘Yes,
Mum
,’ said Ali. He knew she was right though. He already had an inkling it, whatever it was, was going somewhere as opposed to nowhere. It had hit him last night as he’d held her in his arms.

‘Go see my goddaughter,’ he ordered, giving Cass a gentle push towards the stairs. ‘I’ll catch up with you tomorrow. Elvie’s immigration meeting is at 10 a.m. so I’ll let you know how that goes.’

Surprising him, Cass turned and kissed him on the cheek. ‘You’re a good guy Ali McKay: start believing it a little more.’

He didn’t have chance to reply – she’d pushed the stairwell door open and disappeared before he could. 

18
^th
November, 2035 hours – Marlo’s flat, Sunderland

For the first time in ages, Marlo had had a relatively lazy day. She’d offered to take Elvie shopping but the kid had looked so devastated at the thought of not seeing Cass and Alex’s baby that she’d let her go with Agnes to the cottage. She knew they’d probably be back at Ali’s flat by now, but hadn’t yet gone round. Agnes had a way with Elvie, had been getting her to open up and talk. Marlo knew it was doing the youngster good, teaching her to trust again.

She should have been nervous at the prospect of the immigration meeting Ali had told her about, but she wasn’t. She just knew in her heart it would all go their way and Elvie would be allowed to stay. She’d been giving a lot of thought about what would happen. At only fifteen years, if Elvie was granted immigration status, it would mean she would be placed in a family home or with a foster parent. Marlo had experience of both, and in her opinion neither would be suitable. She needed to talk to Ali to see what she could do.

Marlo had been to visit Connor that afternoon. He was still unconscious but he was breathing on his own now which was good. She’d sat with him a while, reading the articles out of the newspaper and chatting about nothing. When his sister, Marie, had arrived, Marlo had made her exit. She’d checked on his uncle’s welfare also – he was in a medically induced coma and hadn’t been woken.

She didn’t know what to think any more. She’d trusted Connor. He’d become part of the team rapidly even if he was surly at times. A small part of her doubted him, wondered how involved he was with his uncle, but then her heart was telling her he was a good man and that she ought to trust him. She sighed, something else to talk to Ali about, she supposed.

Marlo felt her cheeks colour, she was a little ashamed to admit she had practically been waiting for him to come home, jumping at every slight sound in the corridor then being bitterly disappointed every time it wasn’t him.
Sad is what it is. You’ve not even been on one date and you’re hankering after him like a lost puppy.

But she managed to drown out her negative thoughts – it wasn’t like she was falling in love with him or anything. She liked him. He was a nice guy. There was nothing wrong with that.
Aye if you say so, pet.

As the knock she’d been waiting for finally sounded, she pulled the door open with a smile.

‘Oh thank God you’re home, I need wine!’ said Deena, breezing inside and heading for the kitchen. ‘You do have wine, right?’

‘Yeah, there’s a couple of bottles in the cupboard beside the sink – did we have plans for tonight?’ asked Marlo, wondering if she’d forgotten.

‘Nope, I’ve just had a shit day and needed wine and a whinge. You fancy pizza or Chinese for tea?’

Marlo took the glass offered by Deena. ‘Shit day? Why?’

‘Am sick to death of bloody post mortems, pardon the pun. Seem to have drawn the short straw this week. Had two today, both suicides. Heart-breaking it is. One of them was only a young lad. Had his whole life ahead of him.’

‘Sorry, love. Are you back in tomorrow?’

‘No it’s finally my rest days – and this time I’m turning my mobile off. No way is work calling me in if something kicks off. I’m away the day after tomorrow – going to see my sister in Liverpool for a couple of days. She would absolutely have the biggest drama queen hissy fit if I cancelled again!’

Deena took a long swig of her wine, topped the glass up, then made her way back through the kitchen towards the living room. She was just about to plonk herself on the sofa when another knock sounded.

Darting to the door with a wide ‘oh yes, who’s this then’ grin at Marlo, she flung the door open and smiled widely.

Ali stood in front of her, his mouth open in shock. It was almost comical and Marlo had to stifle the giggle that threatened to escape.

‘Ah, a man to join our pity party,’ said Deena dramatically, sweeping her arm across to invite Ali inside. ‘Enter, kind sir, come drown your sorrows with us. Wine solves all problems, don’t you know.’

Ali grinned. ‘Why the hell not?’

Marlo handed him her glass – she hadn’t even taken a sip yet – and nipped to the kitchen to pour herself another. Grabbing the second bottle while she was there, she put it on the table in front of the sofa and sat down next to Ali, much to the amusement of Deena.

‘So,’ said Marlo, ‘you wanted to whinge?’

‘Who me? No, no. No whinging. Just fancied a quick glass of vino to be honest. I’ve got plans tonight anyway, I’m meeting some of the traffic lads for a few drinkypoos down at The Old Nun. Didn’t know you were expecting company, though.’

Lifting the glass to her lips, she downed the rest of her wine in one gulp.

‘I’ll be on my way, pet. Don’t forget the tables booked tomorrow at Filoria’s for 1 p.m. You can catch me up on all the bedroom gossip then. Unless I need to ring you to drag you kicking and screaming from your duvet and away from the wonderful Ali?’

‘Jesus, Deena!’ said Marlo, mortified.

‘Not Jesus, pet, just little old me. I’ll see you tomorrow.’

Deena planted a kiss on her forehead then flounced out of the room as energetically as she’d flounced in just minutes before.

‘Sorry, did I interrupt something?’ asked Ali.

‘No, she’s… well she’s a little nuts if I’m honest. I’ll catch up with her tomorrow.’

‘Another day off, huh?’ Ali teased, ‘to be fair though, I’m off tomorrow, too. Going in for the immigration meeting then handing off to DI Caville for two whole days. I’ve not been off for seventeen days straight now – it’ll be so nice not having to get out of bed if I don’t want to. Or even just having the time to go to the gym or whatever.’

‘Yeah know what you mean, resourcing think we’re machines half the time. I bet they never get their rest days cancelled.’

‘So, dunno about you but I’m starving. Chinese?’

Marlo nodded, and pulled a menu from the magazine rack beside the table. ‘Sounds good.’

Chapter Thirty

18
^th
November, 2240 hours – Ali’s flat, Sunderland

Elvie suddenly sat bolt upright in bed, startled, the remnants of the nightmare still clear in her mind. She put a hand over her mouth to stifle the noise she knew she would make. She didn’t want to wake Agnes who was asleep on a camp bed beside her.

Agnes had been wonderful to her, Elvie knew that and she appreciated it. But she was afraid. What if they sent her back to her village?

Silently, she left the bedroom and padded through to the sofa. She pulled her knees to her chest and hugged herself tightly, tears running down her cheeks. It was awful not knowing what would happen. Tonight was almost as bad as being in the container.

She didn’t want to go back. She never wanted to go back where people could just take her from her bed and force her to go with them. Everyone kept telling her she would be OK, that they were petitioning and giving statements for her to stay in the UK. But she didn’t really understand what it all meant. All she knew was that the immigration people could make her go back.

Guilt was another emotion she was feeling, so much so that it was giving her nightmares. Horrible dreams about Nita getting hurt and Elvie never going to get her despite knowing where she was. The trouble was that she didn’t actually
know
where Nita was. The name of the street had gone from her mind, and now it only hovered on the perimeter, not quite letting her reach it.

And what if immigration said she could stay, and then Marlo didn’t like her any more. Then what would happen? Elvie really liked Marlo, she’d saved her life and Elvie would always remember that, but that made her beholden to Marlo, not the other way around. What if Marlo didn’t want a kid hanging around, especially a kid that wasn’t a friend or relative. Did Marlo even have relatives?

She knew she should feel lucky. Things could have been so much worse for her: she could have ended up with the man that Yolanda wanted to sell her too, or Danny might not have turned out to be so nice, or she might not even have survived the container trip. But lucky wasn’t something that she felt right now.

I tell tomorrow, I tell them about Nita and the horrid men in that house. She need my help, she my friend.

Elvie resumed the rocking motion, unable to stop the sobs this time.
What did I do? Why is this happening?

But nobody answered.

18
^th
November, 2250 hours – Ali’s flat, Sunderland

Elvie didn’t hear the front door open a few minutes later, or notice Ali step inside, see her crying then sneak back out to get Marlo. The first she knew of anyone being there was when Marlo’s arms wrapped round her and pulled her close. She could feel Marlo stroking her hair, and it reminded her so much of Noni that the tears refused to stop.

‘Shhh, it’s OK, it’s all going to be OK, baby. Shhh,’ whispered Marlo.

Elvie wanted so much to believe her. Heaving great sobs shook her thin body, eventually petering out into hiccups and occasional shudders, and for the first time, she felt a little bit of hope. Maybe it would be OK.

19
^th
November, 0910 hours – Sunderland City Police HQ

Ali walked into the office with Elvie and Marlo in tow, and it was every bit as busy as it had been the day before.

‘Elvie, can you and Marlo go wait by my desk at the end? I just need to speak to Alex, and I’ll be with you,’ said Ali. Marlo showed Elvie where his desk was and started talking to one of the detectives as Ali made his way down to where Alex stood.

‘Hey, bro. Anything on Connor or his uncle yet?’

‘I’ve just had word from the hospital actually, Connor’s come around. Nurse said he’s still really groggy and the painkillers keep making him sleep, but he’s awake. I’m heading over there shortly to speak with him. The uncle is still in a coma but they’re bringing him out of it today.’

19
^th
November, 0915 hours – Sunderland City Police HQ

Elvie watched as Ali spoke to his brother and Marlo chatted with a woman in the office. She felt really alone, and didn’t know quite where to put herself. Her eyes were drawn to the open file on the desk, and she tried to tell herself she wasn’t being nosy, but really she was. There was a picture on the front that looked familiar.