by S Williams
‘Very well, thank you. The students seemed to enjoy it at any rate. Actually, rather excitingly, I’ve been picked up by the police!’
‘What, the police police?’
‘No, nothing like that; they just want my opinion on something. In a professional capacity.’
‘Right,’ said Jay, relaxing. ‘It’s all shaping up. It’s confirmed. Daisy and me, we were drugged. And we were right about it being more than just Slane and Grant. The guy from across Daisy’s flat is with them, Lawrence–’
‘Yes. I understand, and you’re right, he is,’ interrupted Joseph.
Jay blinked, then realised Joseph was confirming that he’d heard the name; that Slane must have mentioned him.
‘Okay,’ she said. ‘Do you know where you are?’ Jay heard Joseph talking to Slane and someone else; a man. He asked them where he should send the bill.
Clever, she thought. She listened hard and heard the man fob him off.
‘Okay,’ she said, thinking. ‘Do you know how many people we’re talking about?’
‘I’ll keep a track of my hours. Hopefully no more than five.’
Five people.
‘What? Yes, I won’t forget. Noon. It’s written in my diary. Okay. You have to go now, Hilda, I’m busy. I’ll see you later.’
Joseph crashed the call on her.
Jay looked thoughtfully at Lawrence. Then she swiped up Google on her phone. She looked at the label on the bottle, and tapped it in. After a moment the search engine found what she wanted. She looked at the bound man.
‘It says here that Midazolam can induce sleep. It also says that it can disorientate, and affect the memory. That it can interfere with the ability to even create memories.’
Hopefully not more than five.
You have to go now, Hilda.
Joseph telling her she may have company soon.
Like the person who was knocking at the door.
‘Where’s Daisy?’ she asked Lawrence brightly, removing the tape then stepping back.
‘We don’t know. Look, it’s not what you think. Daisy’s dangerous. What was done to her–’
‘I know what was done to her. I’ve been given a crash course on what was fucking done to her.’
Lawrence shook his head. ‘You don’t know anything.’
‘Why did you drug us? Why did you plant the phone and set her up?’
‘What? Look, just untie me a little. I can’t feel my hands. Let me sit up and I’ll tell you everything.’
Jay shook her head. ‘Are they on their way?’ she asked, raising her eyebrows at the bound man. ‘Is that why you’re so chatty? Were you meant to check in, and now they are coming to see why the silence? Is that it?’
Jay walked over to the kitchen. She opened the cutlery drawer. Behind the knives, there were Daisy’s keys, just as he said. Jay picked them up.
‘I’m going to go now, Lawrence, but I’ve got a problem. I really don’t want you telling anybody where I am.’
Lawrence’s eyes bulged in fear. Sweat popped out on his forehead. ‘Wait–’
Jay stuck the tape back over his mouth and began to walk to the door. Then she stopped and looked at him, tilting her head.
‘Do you think that’s enough?’ she questioned herself. ‘Or will you work it loose?’
Lawrence nodded his head. Then shook it. Jay tutted, deep in thought.
‘But what if they ring, or knock? You’d be able to do something. Hit the table with your leg. Mumble loudly. Something.’
She scrunched up her face, searching for a solution. Then her features cleared, and she smiled at him.
‘I know!’ she said, brightly. She reached into her rucksack. Lawrence shook his head violently, trying to scream.
Jay pulled the baseball bat out. ‘If I smash your head in, you won’t be able to make a peep, will you? Everybody happy.’
42
Jay looked through the security hole, checking the coast was clear, then let herself out of Lawrence’s flat.
Behind her, the man lay unconscious on the floor, bound and gagged and gently bleeding.
Jay didn’t feel a pang of guilt. Each time she had hit him she had seen Daisy’s face.
Daisy, who had spent her entire life being abused, then ran so far away she didn’t even know who she was.
Jay locked the door, pocketed the keys, and walked across the landing to Daisy’s flat.
She’d been so stupid.
They’d put her undercover. Got her a flat in Daisy’s block.
Of course they’d put someone else there too. Someone they could trust. Someone who knew what was going on.
Because Jay had not been there to watch Daisy. Anybody could have done that.
Most of Leeds was wired for visuals. If they wanted, they could have done the whole thing remotely.
If they were legitimate.
If they were really on the level.
Jay shook her head.
She’d been so dazzled by the idea of working undercover that she’d never questioned the legitimacy of it.
Of course it was shit. Shit polished to such a degree that it shone, but shit nevertheless.
It didn’t take much.
The nod from her boss, who knew Slane from the old days.
Just enough information to make her feel in the loop; like she was an asset in a team.
And she’d supplied the rest.
She felt her face burn with shame.
Jay looked around quickly, then slipped into Daisy’s flat.
Once inside, she let out a shallow breath. Now that she had separated herself from the lies she felt the full weight of guilt. She’d abused her friendship with the woman. Worse, she’d put her in danger.
And on some level, Daisy had known she was fake, Jay realised.
Hence the message to 999, calling her a policewoman. Present tense.
Hence not telling her everything. Not completely trusting her.
Hence running away again; hiding from whoever was trying to set her up for murder.
Is there somewhere safe you can hide?
And not taking Jay with her.
The detective took a shaky breath and walked down the narrow corridor to Daisy’s bedroom.
The place was a slasher film.
The stuffing from the mattress was strewn all over the floor where the insides of the bed had been removed. The act was so violent that it took Jay’s breath away. Why would someone take a knife to the bed like that? What could they possibly think was hidden?
Nothing, Jay realised. They just did it to control where Daisy had lain. Destroy, symbolically, the place she might have felt safe.
‘You really are over the fucking rainbow, aren’t you?’ she whispered to the room. The madness of the action filled the space. All the space.
The whiteboard had been wiped clean of Daisy’s drawing of the mermaid and covered with expletives. Statements of intention involving burning and breaking. Ripping and gagging. Crude pictures of Daisy in bondage. At least Jay assumed they were meant to be Daisy. They looked like they’d been drawn by a lunatic.
Daisy having sex with fish. With men. With women.
Except, of course, it wasn’t sex.
Sex required choice and agreement.
It was rape.
Systematic, insane, depraved abuse of one human being by another.
Jay studied the pictures. She could tell they were Daisy because of the eyes. Two different colours like she was two different people in one body. Sometimes she had legs and sometimes a tail like a mermaid.
But always the heterochromia.
The blue and the brown.
‘What does it mean?’ she whispered, staring at the insanity on the wall.
‘What is it you wanted from her?’
Jay was concentrating so hard on the pictures that the ringing of her phone shocked her, its tone causing her to start.
She quickly took it out and swiped it open.
‘It’s me.’
> Joseph, ringing her. Which meant the first part of their plan had worked. Jay smiled.
‘Of course it’s fucking you. Who else would it be?’
‘You know you swear too much?’
‘No, I don’t. I swear just the right amount. What do you think of Slane?’
‘I think you’re right. She’s as evil as they come.’
Jay looked at the drawings on the whiteboard.
‘Oh, she’s much more than that. Do they know where Daisy is?’
‘No, and they’re blaming her for two murders. One of them is an ex-member of The Fishermen called Walter Cummings.’
Jay shook her head in confusion. ‘I thought you said they were all dead?’
‘They were. Or supposed to be. There’s something very wrong here, Jay. Something they are not telling me.’
‘Do you think we should pull it now? Risk it and get the cops in?’
‘No. They’re so sure of themselves. They haven’t mentioned you at all. It’s like you’re not even a problem. I suspect they have some form of warning set up with the police. Maybe your old boss. Some network that’s been there since the bad old days. I think we should go with our original plan. They’re going to let something slip. I can feel it. Plus, you were right. Their computer set-up is mobile. It should be open to what we thought.’
‘Okay, but be careful. I found the spy in the flat, by the way. The person who had been watching us.’
‘Really? I hope you didn’t do anything–’
‘It’s fine. I’ve immobilised him.’
‘How?’
‘I tied him up a little.’
‘Okay.’
‘And hit him with a baseball bat.’
‘Right.’
‘A lot.’
‘Is he alive?’
‘Of course he’s fucking alive. I’m not stupid.’
Jay pictured the unmoving man and wondered if that was true. She decided she didn’t care.
‘Do you know how they managed to bolt the flat to set Daisy up?’
Jay shook her head, frustrated. When she’d entered it was clear the door had been battered in, the bolts broken and hanging off the frame.
‘No. I’m working on it.’
‘Look, Jay. Daisy… what The Fishermen did. She’s really damaged. It’s possible that she doesn’t even know who she is some of the time. That she might have to hide inside of herself. Protect herself.’
Jay didn’t say anything. The silence down the line said it all.
‘She might not be what you think she is, is all I’m saying.’
Joseph’s voice was gentle.
Jay swallowed the pain in her chest. ‘As I said, I’m not stupid. I’ve got to go.’
‘Me too. I need to get a haircut and a charger.’
Jay smiled, the dangerous moment passed. ‘Don’t forget to send a picture.’
‘Will do.’
Joseph hung up.
‘Of course I know Daisy is broken. I’m not bloody stupid,’ Jay muttered again.
Which was when the person charged out of the bathroom and kicked her in the kneecap, proving that she was very stupid indeed.
Jay screamed and collapsed to the floor.
43
‘Wow, it rains more here than it does on the moor. Is it like this all the time?’
The distance between the car and the roller door was only fifteen meters or so, but Joseph could tell he was going to get soaked. The driver, Grant, who had picked him up after the haircut, shrugged.
‘I wouldn’t know, sir. If you run, I’m sure you’ll miss the worst of it.’
‘You’re not coming in?’
Grant shook his head.
‘Just returning you, sir. I’m requested elsewhere.’
‘Right. Well, thank you.’ Joseph looked at the rain bouncing off the concrete, then, resigning himself to a soaking, opened the door and made a run for it.
Once he was in the shelter of the broken awning he turned and watched the saloon car make a slow circle and head out the way they had come.
Joseph took a breath. He really didn’t want to go back in, but the plan he and Jay had concocted required it. He just hoped she was all right.
Wiping the rain from his head, Joseph turned and entered the building. In the debris-strewn corridor, the smell of urine had intensified, the rain somehow reinvigorating the acrid odour. Joseph breathed shallowly as he made his way to the large incident room. Inside, Slane and Collins were seated in front of the Smart Board, deep in conversation. On one of the computer screens was a satellite map of Leeds centre. As he entered, the two officers ceased their conversation and looked at him. Slane smiled broadly.
‘Ah, Joseph. How was the haircut?’
‘As you can see; pointless.’ He took off his coat. ‘The rain here is unreal. Still, I went to the market afterwards and managed to get a charger–’ Joseph waved the plastic bag he was carrying, ‘–so there’s a positive. I’ll be able to put some power into the phone so I can contact Mark.’ Joseph pulled the sealed charger out of the plastic bag and looked expectantly at them. ‘Tell him about my hair. Where can I plug it in?’
‘You could just use my phone if you like,’ said Slane.
Joseph shook his head.
‘Remember I told you about Mark’s ASD? He wouldn’t answer a strange number.’
‘Could I see that, please?’ said Collins, standing and walking over to Joseph. Puzzled, Joseph handed it to him. Collins took the package, turning it over several times to check that it was fully sealed.
‘I was quite lucky, actually,’ Joseph explained while Collins conducted his examination. ‘The man in the kiosk said this is the last one he had.’ Joseph laughed, slightly embarrassed. ‘In fact, he told me it had been in there a couple of years! No one, apparently, has phones like mine anymore.’
Satisfied, Collins handed it back. ‘You can plug it in over there.’ He pointed at a socket under the far trestle table.
‘Thanks.’ Joseph pushed the charger out of the plastic and cardboard packaging. He walked over and plugged it in, then connected his phone into the other end. The device made a cheery beep, and a green light came on, indicating it was working. Joseph stood and walked back to the detectives.
‘Okay, I’m all yours. Can I take some notes as we talk?’ Joseph went to open his work case, but Slane shook her head.
‘Not yet, if that’s all right, Joseph. Once we’ve fully briefed you, and you know that you can help us, then a portfolio will be issued to you, with all the relevant intel.’
‘Fair enough.’ Joseph nodded.
‘The first thing you need to know is just how we managed to infiltrate The Fishermen. Once you understand that, you’ll see why it is vital that we find Daisy, and get her somewhere safe.’
‘I’m all ears, Inspector.’
Slane looked at him intently. Joseph was amazed. Everything about her seemed sincere. If he didn’t know better he would have said she was exactly what she said she was; a civil servant trying to do a difficult job.
Which is what made her so terrifying.
‘Back at the end of the eighties, when The Fishermen came to our attention, the police force was not like it is now.’
Joseph was uncomfortably aware that he had said almost exactly the same sentence to Jay two days earlier.
‘I know. Cliques and cabals within the different departments. Much more of a blurring between what was criminal and what was the law.’
‘Yes. The law was something to be enforced, not followed. As long as a result was achieved, the methods were somewhat irrelevant, hence the heavy reliance on informants and the somewhat blasé attitude to undercover work.’
‘How do you mean?’
‘Oh come on, Joseph! You know how it was. Policemen and women – although mainly men – who went so far undercover that they had families. Children even. They were given immunity by the state because they needed to fit in. Some even committed crimes so they could be accepted. Did init
iation beating in gangs. Went on burglaries.’
Joseph nodded. ‘I get it. A wild-west culture quite rightly consigned to the past. There have even been prosecutions recently. What has this got to do with The Fishermen?’
Slane just stared at him.
‘What?’ he said.
‘Deep, deep cover.’
Joseph felt his flesh crawl. ‘No.’
‘Yes, I’m afraid so, Joseph. It was considered the only way.’
Joseph looked from one officer to another, disbelieving.
‘But nobody would have sanctioned it!’
‘But they did. The Fishermen were considered a threat to society. They were founded and fuelled by a middle-class ideology that struck right at the heart of England. They were the precursors of the movements against what became a deep state. They were anti-establishment and educated enough to be considered a threat to the moral fibre if they ever went mainstream. Do you remember what it was like, back then? With the IRA blowing up pubs and the coal strikes and AIDs described as a punishment from God? The general public were considered malleable.’
‘They were child abusers!’ Joseph practically shouted.
‘When we first looked into them we didn’t know that. And when it became clear that they weren’t just a paedophile ring – that they had an ideology – well… it became even more important that we understood them,’ said Slane.
‘And their set-up was tight,’ added Collins. ‘They kept themselves in cells, with only one or two members moving between the houses. No charismatic God-head. Hardly anybody knew the entire operation. They were priming themselves for a moral change in our society. If they’d survived into the digital age…’
‘But we’ve seen the footage, Slane! We watched it not two hours ago: it was horrific! How could anyone think they could infiltrate that?’
‘How do you think we got the footage?’ Slane said mildly.
Joseph looked at her, open-mouthed, and felt himself collapse a little.
There it was. The thing that hadn’t made sense. The reason for the operation to be so off-grid.
‘You had someone on the inside,’ he said simply.
Slane nodded. ‘Walter Cummings was an undercover police officer. He was sent in to provide valuable intel on what was considered, at the time, a national threat. Many of the members of The Fishermen were recruited at university. They would, one day, have connections to the government. To state. To the medical profession.’