Dirty Old Town

by L M Krier

  She tried to shake her head in denial but he was gripping her too tightly, his other hand tearing at her clothing.

  ‘If you’re very good – very, very good – I might take a video of him to show you. It’s up to you. But you’re going to have to work for the privilege. Hard.’

  * * *

  Probationer Steve Ellis was sitting close to the front of the large room, waiting eagerly for the proceedings to start. He kept unconsciously tugging at his carefully brushed uniform. Flicking at imaginary specks on shoulders and sleeves.

  Every few minutes he turned his head to look again at where the parents of all the other probationers were sitting proudly in smiling rows. There was no sign yet of his mother and father and that surprised him.

  His mum wasn’t a good timekeeper. She always got so nervous and flustered if she had to be anywhere at a certain time. He was sure she would have made an effort, though. Today, of all days.

  She’d been so bitterly disappointed to have missed his graduation. Another of her so-called accidents. Another time for his father to haul her off to Casualty with some plausible story about what had happened, so it was carefully documented but nothing was ever flagged up.

  He’d been there, though. Basking in reflected glory.

  They were now very late. By the look of it, the last of the parents and relatives to arrive. His father was paranoid about punctuality. A certain trigger to make him flare up if anyone was ever late for anything.

  Steve looked down at his shoes. Checking they still had the mirror shine he’d spent ages the night before putting onto them. The old traditional spit and polish. His dad had taught him how to do that. Then he looked round the room once more. Perhaps his parents were there somewhere and he hadn’t spotted them yet. He knew his mother would want to wave to him, as soon as she caught sight of him. Knew, too, how much that would enrage his father.

  But they weren’t there. Not even standing at the back, having arrived late, and not wanting to draw attention to themselves by finding seats amid the stares of all those other proud parents present.

  Now the Chief Constable was walking out onto the platform to address them and Steve was confronted with the reality. The proudest moment of his life, and his parents hadn’t come to witness it.

  * * *

  ‘I’m really sorry to disturb you, inspector. I know how busy Passing Out day is. I’m Steve Ellis’s father and I’m afraid I have some very bad news for him. I can’t get there at the moment so I wondered if you’d be very kind and pass it on for me?

  ‘Me and his mother were so looking forward to being there today, of course, but I’m afraid ...’ his voice broke for a moment.

  He gave a cough, cleared his throat, and carried on. ‘Steve’s mum has suffered a lot with depression over the years and it all … well, it got a bit much for her today.

  ‘She’s killed herself.’

  ‘I’m sorry to hear that. What a terrible thing for you.’

  ‘Thank you, inspector. It’s really shaken me up, I can tell you. I wasn’t expecting anything like this. And certainly not today, of all days. She’d been so looking forward to seeing our Steve in his uniform for his Passing Out. She missed his graduation because she’d had one of her accidents. But it was the usual thing with her today. She had very low self-esteem. She couldn’t decide what to wear. She was worried she’d let Steve down if she wasn’t dressed exactly right.

  ‘I tried to help, of course. To tell her she looked lovely and Steve would be so proud to have her there. I thought I’d succeeded, too. She’d chosen her outfit, went off to have a bath and get herself dolled up. She was ages, but you know what women can be like, getting ready for a special occasion. I called to her but she didn’t reply. So I went in.’

  This time there was no mistaking the sob in his voice as he took a pause to regain control.

  ‘She’d slit her wrists. There was nothing I could do, although I tried. She was already cold. Since then I’ve had the police here, the works. You know yourself how it goes. You think you know it all off by heart, but when it happens to you for the first time, it knocks you sideways.

  ‘I’ll talk to Steve myself, of course, when I’ve had the chance to come to a bit. To take it all in. But I know he’ll be fretting that we weren’t there, so I wondered if you could kindly tell him what’s happened? Not too much detail, though, of course, I’d rather do that myself. But if you could please let him know that his mum’s passed away. Give him my love and tell him I’ll call him as soon as I can.

  ‘Oh, and if you wouldn’t mind telling him how proud I am of him, and how much I wished I could have been there. Both of us. Me and his mother. Thank you, if you wouldn’t mind doing it.’

  ‘Of course, that’s no problem at all. You can safely leave it with me. And I’m very sorry for your loss, Sergeant Ellis.’

  * * *

  Ted and Trev were sitting together on the sofa, half watching the television, piled underneath purring cats. Trev’s resolve to economise by sticking to one glass of wine a day with a meal had somehow slipped to one with supper then a second one afterwards, when they adjourned to the sitting room. He cradled the glass in one hand. His other arm was draped around Ted’s shoulders.

  ‘I’m glad I went, in the end. To London,’ he began. ‘To meet the other victims. That in itself was a bit of an eye-opener. I was so blind to the reality I honestly thought I was the only one. Harvey’s special chosen one. The love of his life. Like I thought he was the love of mine. I didn’t even consider myself as a victim in a way because I really thought it was a love affair. The stuff of fairy tales and soppy films.’

  He paused and turned to smile at Ted.

  ‘I realise how naive that sounds now. Even after all these years, I hadn’t quite come to terms with it. No wonder Jono thought I wouldn’t make a good witness. I must have sounded like a lovesick puppy, talking to him about it.’

  ‘That’s understandable. Abusers, especially paedophiles, are highly manipulative. It’s how they get to do what they do.’

  ‘Yes, but I should know better by now. I’ve been living with a cynical old copper for years.’

  Ted turned to him with a suggestive expression on his face.

  ‘Hey, less of the old, please. Or I might have to prove to you that I’m not past it yet.’

  Trev’s delighted laugh was cut short by the sound of Ted’s mobile phone.

  Bill calling.

  ‘Ted, get round here. Now. Steve’s slit his wrists.’

  Ted let out an expletive and shot to his feet, scattering indignant cats. He made an apologetic face at Trev, mouthed, ‘Sorry, got to go’, then rushed out into the hallway to shove his feet into shoes, grab a jacket, the car keys and his photo ID. He wasn’t planning on obeying any speed limits on the way. The sight of that round his neck might help to prevent any hold-ups.

  ‘Is he still alive? Have you called an ambulance?’ he asked Bill, rushing to open the garage doors, hoping Trev would think to come out and close them again before someone nicked his bike.

  He left the call connected to Bill, now on speaker-phone, while he drove as fast as he dared.

  ‘Of course I’ve bloody called them. What d’you think? They’re warning of a delay, though. And yes, he’s still alive, but he’s not responding. More like shut down than unconscious, if you know what I mean. Like he’s embarrassed that I found him before he succeeded, or something.

  ‘Come in round the back. You know how to. The front door’s locked so make sure you open it so the ambulance crew can come straight in. We’re in the bathroom. He’s slit his wrists in the bath, the silly little sod. I’ve let the water go. I thought that might help. If he’s cold he might not bleed as much. As long as it doesn’t send him into shock.

  ‘But I’m struggling to get enough pressure on both wrists at the same time by myself and my bloody bad leg isn’t liking the position I’m in. So get yourself here as fast as you can, whatever it takes. He’s hanging in there, for now,
but only just. It’s like he’s given up. Wants it all to be over.’

  Ted shot through one traffic light that was nearer to red than to amber, overtook wherever it was remotely possible, and no doubt frightened the life out of some other drivers on his way. At least he arrived outside Bill’s house in record time.

  He carefully squeezed down the side of the garage, climbing on top of the rickety fence to do so. He’d insisted on being shown the back way into the house after Bill had made an attempt on his own life with pills and booze some time ago, then had done nothing but grumble that the first responders Ted had called had had to break the front door down to gain entry. Ted had enjoyed teasing him about an ex-copper living in a house which was so easy to burgle. He was grateful now for the ease of entry.

  Father Jack, Bill’s irascible cockatoo, raised his crest and started squawking angrily at the site of an intruder coming in through the back door, but calmed down somewhat when Ted spoke to him. The bird had lived at Ted’s house while Bill had been in hospital, much to the disgust of the cats and of Trev, who had a phobia when it came to anything feathered and flappy.

  Bill had also heard him come in and called out, ‘Top of the stairs, turn left, Ted, and shift yourself.’

  Ted opened the front door slightly then sprinted upstairs, first aid case in hand, thankful he’d remembered to replenish the dressings he’d used on Mr Green. Force of habit, learned on one of Green’s survival training courses, about never getting into danger by running out of anything vital.

  Steve was limp and unresponsive, but there was eye movement behind his closed lids and he was breathing. Bill had wrapped towels round each wrist and was holding both arms, clamped together as firmly as he could, high up, in an effort to reduce the bleeding. Ted could see from his grimaces of pain that staying immobile in that position was causing pain to his old leg injury.

  Ted went into autopilot mode, remembering every bit of first aid training he’d ever done, starting with trying to reassure the casualty.

  ‘Steve, it’s going to be all right. Bill and I are going to look after you, and the ambulance is on its way. Come on, Steve, stay with us.

  ‘Bill, I think we should perhaps put a light cover over him so he doesn’t go into shock. I’ll take over here while you go and find something. We should leave the towels in place but I’ve got bandages. I could put those over them to get some even pressure on to try to stop the bleeding.’

  Bill got up from his crouching position with some difficulty. There was no mistaking the genuine affection in his expression as he looked down at Steve, who was naked in the bathtub. Bill had previously told Ted that Steve always kept his T-shirt on in the shower. They could both now clearly see the reason for it. Both upper arms and his chest were criss-crossed with a web of fine white scars, long healed. The razor blade Steve had used on his wrists was lying in the bottom of the bath tub.

  ‘This lad’s been to hell and back, Ted, and we’ve all missed it. All of us. When he gets through this, we need to do a lot more for him.’

  ‘He’s right, Steve,’ Ted said quietly as Bill stumped off to find a cover. ‘We’ve let you down badly. It should never have come to this. But you’re going to be okay. We’re not going to let you go.’

  From downstairs, he heard a knock on the partially open front door and heard a woman’s voice call out, ‘Ambulance crew. Somebody called us?’

  There was no mistaking the relief in Bill’s voice as he called out, ‘Up here, love, top of the stairs on the left.’

  Then he shouted, ‘Shut up, Jack,’ as his bird started screeching and swearing horribly at the intruders.

  ‘You hear that, Steve?’ Ted said, his voice still soft. ‘Cavalry’s here. You’re going to be all right. You are. Everything’s going to be all right.’

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  ‘He’s in there, in the bath. Steve, he’s called. Steve Ellis,’ Bill told the ambulance crew as they came up the stairs. ‘I’m Bill, he lodges with me. I was looking for a cover to put over him.’

  ‘That’s fine, Bill, you can safely leave him to us now. Thank you,’ the first woman up the stairs told him, as she and her colleague headed the way Bill indicated.

  ‘Steve? Can you hear me, Steve? I’m Amanda, this is Jayne. We’re paramedics. We’re just going to have a look at you, if that’s all right?’

  She barely glanced at Ted until he held up his photo ID and introduced himself, briefly explaining the first aid he and Bill had applied.

  ‘You’ve done all the right things, by the sound of it. We’ll need to get him to hospital as soon as we can, but we’ll get him stabilised first. I might need to put a line in. Was he unconscious when he was found? And do you know roughly how long ago this happened?’

  Bill gave her the details whilst she was assessing Steve. She sent her colleague to get what was needed from the ambulance while she worked.

  ‘I imagine it’s an awkward lift out of a bath, so I’m happy to help in any way I can,’ Ted told her.

  Amanda smiled her thanks but said, ‘That’s kind, but as you can probably imagine, it’s a bit of a paperwork nightmare if I let you. You probably know all about that in your line of work. Risk assessments and all that stuff. It’s fine. Jayne and I are trained for it.’

  She turned her attention back to her casualty.

  ‘Steve? Can you open your eyes for me? We’re going to get you sorted then we’ll take you to A&E.’

  Still no reaction from Steve, although once again Ted saw eye movement behind the closed lids.

  ‘He lives here, you said. Are you his next of kin, Bill, or does he have any family?’ Jayne asked Bill when she came back with the equipment. ‘Someone you need to call? And does one of you want to come with him in the ambulance, so he’s with someone he knows?’

  ‘I’ll go with him,’ Bill said immediately. ‘I don’t know about any family. He never mentions any. Ted, d’you know?’

  ‘I don’t. I’d need to get the details from his file. You go with him, Bill, I’ll follow on in the car, then I can at least bring you home afterwards.’

  Bill’s chin jutted stubbornly at that.

  ‘I’m staying with him as long as he needs me.’

  Amanda and Jayne had been working efficiently while they spoke. They’d got Steve out of the bath and into the transfer chair Jayne had brought back with her. They’d put a cover over him and additional pressure bandages over what was already in place. They were now good to go, still explaining to Steve what was happening, although he remained unresponsive.

  They put the blue lights on the ambulance as they pulled away, to give them a clear run to the hospital. Ted followed behind, taking the chance to put the phone on speaker and call Trev.

  ‘Hey, you, are you all right? Was it another body?’ Trev asked, sounding anxious, as soon as he answered the call.

  ‘I sincerely hope not,’ Ted replied with feeling. ‘Bill and I are on our way to hospital at the moment, with Steve. He’s ...’ he paused, not yet ready to put into words what had happened. ‘He’s been injured. I’ve no idea what time I’ll be home. I need to stay until I know he’s going to be all right, then to run Bill home. He’s in the ambulance with him.’

  ‘Oh, god, Ted, I’m so sorry. Is he going to be all right? Are you?’

  ‘I won’t know about Steve until he’s been seen in A&E. Bill hopefully got to him in time. I’ll try to keep you posted when I can but like I said, I’ve no idea how long I’m going to be.’

  Ted found Bill sitting with a morose and worried expression on his face in a waiting area, his eyes flicking towards the doors whenever anyone appeared. There was clearly no news but Ted asked anyway, for confirmation.

  ‘Nothing yet. It seems like a bloody long time I’ve been sat here, but I don’t suppose it is really. Ted, d’you think he was conscious all that time? He seemed to react to what was happening, I thought. Did he mean to kill himself, or was it just the proverbial cry for help? What tipped him over the edge? What is
it about this latest case?’

  ‘Honestly, Bill? I don’t know. I should have seen it coming, but I didn’t. Look, it’s no point us sitting here speculating until we know if he’s going to be all right, and we have some more details. Do you want a cup of tea or something?’

  Maurice Brown would have suggested hot chocolate. Ted somehow felt Bill was not a hot chocolate sort of a person. And even if he was, now was not the moment.

  ‘I’d prefer a bloody Scotch, but I don’t suppose there’s any chance of that here. Aye, go on, a tea. I’ll wait here, in case there’s any news while you’re gone.’

  There wasn’t. They had to wait more than an hour, sipping endless cups of tasteless tea from a machine, before a registrar came to find them.

  Bill started to talk while they waited.

  ‘He was acting strange when he got home from work. Moody, like. He gets like that sometimes. Very closed. He usually goes up to his room and gets on his computer to talk to that lass of his. She’s good for him and it’s clear how much he misses her. Sometimes he puts his music on. Not that I would call it that. Just noise, to me. He’s considerate, though. Doesn’t often put it on too loud.

  ‘Today was different. He put some bloody soppy song on. On a loop, like. Over and over. Summat about wishing on a star. Proper got on my nerves, so I shouted up to see if he were going to have a shower before we had our tea. He turned it off and went to run a bath. He was still humming that tune, while he was in the bathroom. I should have realised sooner that summat were wrong. It’s my bloody fault, Ted.’

  ‘If anyone’s at fault here it’s me. I’m his senior officer.’

  Bill snorted.

  ‘Don’t be so bloody soft, man. You’ve more than enough on your plate. You’ve got a DI and two DSs who should be keeping a closer eye than you.’

  They were interrupted in their blame game by the appearance of a doctor walking towards them.

  ‘I’m told you’re here for Steve Ellis. Is that right?’ she asked. ‘Are you family?’

  ‘Work colleagues,’ Ted told her, holding up his ID. ‘I’m his boss. Sergeant Baxter here is his landlord. How is he? Is there any news?’