by Carol Wyer
‘Did you talk to anyone online afterwards?’
‘No. I wasn’t in the mood. I came on yesterday. I always feel shit when my period starts.’
‘You didn’t text or talk to Gavin?’
‘No.’
‘Who did you message on WhatsApp? Friends, relatives? Somebody who can confirm your whereabouts?’
‘I was tired. I went to bed. I was tired.’ She’d avoided the question.
‘Who did you talk to?’
Daisy shook her head. The hand was back at her throat.
A customer tapped on the window.
‘I have to go.’
Natalie took a step back. ‘I can have your call log checked.’
‘I messaged Kirk.’
‘Why?’
‘To ask him to tell Gavin I wasn’t going to the club as planned. Gavin wasn’t answering his phone.’ Her eyelids fluttered. More lies.
‘You messaged Kirk rather than try Gavin again?’
‘I don’t see what any of this has to do with last night. I didn’t burn down their house.’
‘Daisy, have you ever had a relationship with Kirk Lang?’
Daisy’s face became guarded and her eyes flashed. ‘What sort of question is that? Of course not. I’m going out with his brother. Anyway, my private life isn’t any of your business. Now I’m needed inside.’
Both women watched as Daisy stomped back inside.
‘Do you think she was seeing Kirk before she started seeing Gavin?’ Lucy asked.
‘Maybe, or she is certainly interested in him now. She doesn’t seem that bothered about Gavin, which strikes me as strange, especially as he gave her the money for the tea room. She’s only officially been with him for two months. She should be a bit more loved up than she seems, shouldn’t she? Considering they’re supposed to be a couple, they don’t seem to spend much time together and she didn’t ring Gavin’s mobile to tell him the house was on fire. She rang Kirk at the club.’
‘And she was definitely nervous about something when we last spoke to them all. We all picked up on that,’ said Lucy.
‘It could be that she and Kirk are seeing each other behind his brother’s back, and she’s only with Gavin because of the loan, or there could be something more to it. Anyway, I didn’t get the impression she knew Roxy or Cathy. There were no tells that I could spot. There’s something else going on though. Why do I keep getting the impression people are keeping things from us?’
‘Because the fuckers are,’ said Lucy as she opened the car door.
Natalie glanced back at the tea room and caught Daisy staring at her. The woman dropped her head as soon as she’d been seen. ‘I reckon you’re right on that. Time to talk to Gavin and Kirk.’
Seven
Sunday, 1 July – Mid-Afternoon
David Ward dragged a crusty, yellowed sock from the bottom of the washing basket and tossed it into the washing machine before shutting the door with such force it didn’t catch and sprang back open. He tried again, this time more gently, and waited for the click that told him the door was securely fastened. Reaching down beside it, he lifted and slammed the box of washing powder on top of the appliance. He scooped the requisite amount into the drawer and closed it too, then twisted the knob, listening to the solid click… click… click as it turned into the usual position for a forty-degree wash. It grumbled into action as water spat into the drum. He rested his palms on it and stared at the calendar on the wall. It was covered in his neat handwriting, essentially filled with their children’s busy itineraries, so he knew when he’d be required to ferry them about, and red crosses when Natalie was at work. Today was blank. It ought to have been a family day but Natalie had been called into work, leaving him with two teenagers who were holed up in their respective rooms, unwilling to join him.
What the fuck am I doing with my life? Here he was, a man in his late forties with a first-class degree in languages and a career in translating law documents, who couldn’t get a job of any description, let alone an interview for one, and instead of feeling fulfilled and relaxed at the weekend after a busy but productive week at work, he was stuck inside on a Sunday afternoon, cleaning up. He didn’t mind doing household chores. He was happy to help out and take the load off Natalie, but oh lord, how he despised himself at the moment.
He’d always been an achiever. He’d striven to succeed and had been proud to get a position translating legal documents at a top law firm in Manchester, and he’d been diligent and hard-working. In fact, he’d been bloody good at it. It had defined him. It had earned him respect. The first blow had come when he’d been made redundant. He hadn’t seen that coming. Suddenly, he’d gone from a high-flyer to a nobody. His work colleagues had shunned him and his world had come crashing down through no fault of his own. The Internet had taken over his role and he’d found himself hunting for employment, only this time it was in a different world: one crowded with graduates who were as good as him but more dynamic, more tech-savvy, a better fit than him at the up-and-coming companies where he stood apart like an ageing relic.
However, he’d got over it and had tried to make it on his own as an online translator but once again had failed. More recently, since Leigh’s attempt to run away, he’d thrown himself back onto the job market. He was willing to take up any employment offered to him, anything that allowed him to earn a salary, regain some self-esteem and not rely on Natalie to be the breadwinner. It wasn’t that he was jealous of Natalie, who had risen up the ranks and been promoted to DI. God, no! He admired her and loved the very bones of her, but he needed to feel useful and he yearned for respect again. He wanted to be a father that his kids looked up to, not the weak-willed, hopeless, bloody mess he’d become.
He pushed away from the machine. Standing there feeling sorry for himself wasn’t going to make matters better. The drum droned as it churned and he watched as the clothes toppled over each other. No, he had to do something.
He wandered into the kitchen and picked up his mobile. He’d known Mike Sullivan for years and he was one of the few people who understood him properly. It was Mike’s day to have his daughter, Thea. He rang him.
‘Hi, Mike. Wondered if you fancied popping around for a few beers. You could bring Thea. I know Leigh would love to see her.’
‘Oh, mate, I’d love to but I haven’t got her today. I was called into work in the early hours.’
‘You working the same investigation as Nat?’
‘Yes. I saw her earlier at the crime scene. Have to take a rain check. We’ll reschedule when I’m next off.’
‘Sure.’
‘Everything’s okay, isn’t it?’
‘Yes, of course. Just thought we could catch up. Not seen you for a while.’
‘Bloody work. Stops you having a social life,’ said Mike, who paused before saying, ‘Sorry, that was thoughtless. It just came out.’
‘Forget it! It’s fine. We’ll grab a drink soon.’
‘Defo.’
David hung up, replaced the phone on the table and ran a hand over his chin. He felt like a leper. Nobody wanted to know him. Fucking hell! He took the stairs with purpose and, drawing a deep breath, rapped on Josh’s door. Not expecting a response, he opened it and stuck his head around, fake enthusiasm all over his features.
‘Hey!’
Josh was sitting on the end of his bed, games control in his hand and a microphone attached to his head. He paused the screen, freezing a soldier who was aiming a machine gun at a dark corner of an abandoned building. He looked up at his father.
David didn’t give him a chance to speak but went straight in with his suggestion. ‘Thought you might like to go to Costa. You could see if they’ve got any jobs going like we discussed, and then we could maybe go bowling or something afterwards.’
‘Nah, you’re okay. I don’t fancy working there anyway. I’d have to serve a load of mates and they’ll take the piss.’
David kept the artificial smile fixed to his face. ‘It’s a job,
Josh. You could do with the money.’
‘I’ll find something. Not there though.’
‘You won’t find anything sitting in here all day,’ David began, then checked himself. Natalie had already told Josh he needed to find a job for the long school holidays. Josh didn’t need two of them nagging him. Besides, David was a fine one to talk. He changed tack. ‘Well, how about going out anyway? We haven’t bowled in ages.’
‘It’s a bit… lame,’ said Josh. ‘The place will be filled with kids.’
Josh glanced at the screen, making David feel he was being dismissed. He persisted.
‘Okay, how about you and I have a game on that?’ He nodded at the screen.
‘You won’t understand the rules for this one. I’m levelled up on it already and you won’t be able to keep up.’
‘Okay, what about that car game we used to play? We could have a game together. Go on. It’d be more fun than playing by yourself.’
‘I’m not playing by myself. I’m online. I’m playing with my mates,’ said Josh, pointing at the headset.
‘Yeah. Sure. Okay. It was just a suggestion.’
Josh nodded at him and he backed away. As he drew the door to, he heard the rat-a-tat of rapid gunfire once more. His son was back in the zone with his online companions. That was it these days: kids didn’t go out to meet their friends, they hung about inside and talked to them online. David didn’t get it. He wasn’t useless when it came to technology but he still didn’t understand what made teenagers want to hide away in their rooms and only communicate via the Internet. It made him feel old. Leigh’s room was opposite and he tried it.
‘Yeah?’
Again, he pushed open the door, a smile on his face. ‘Fancy a banana smoothie in Costa? Just you and me… and a cake of your choice.’
Leigh put down her magazine. ‘I’m not hungry. Besides, I’m meeting Katy and Jade soon.’
‘Where are you going?’
‘Jade’s house.’
He was at a loss as to what to say next. It seemed only moments ago that they spent time together, watching films or comedy shows, or sharing a pizza. They’d had such a special father–daughter bond and had enjoyed time together. Then Leigh had run away, and now she could barely manage to talk to him.
‘Okay. Well, another time, maybe.’
‘Sure.’
He plodded back downstairs to the kitchen. Was this it? Was this all there would ever be in his life? Last week, he’d updated his personal information on the job agency websites, and even though his CV read well, he’d still not even been offered an interview. He opened the cupboard above the sink and lifted out the bottle of whisky he’d bought at Aldi. He undid it, poured a large glass and knocked it back in one then poured another before taking it into the sitting room and dropping onto the settee in front of the television. The kids didn’t give a shit about him, so why should he keep making the effort? He swigged the alcohol, allowing the warmth to flood his veins. Fuck it!
Eight
Sunday, 1 July – Early Evening
Kirk Lang leant forward, arms on the table, and asked Lucy, ‘Why exactly am I here?’
Lucy dropped down onto the chair opposite him, threw him a tight smile and said, ‘Because we need to ask you a few questions.’
‘You could have asked me at the tea room. You didn’t need us to haul our arses down here. We’re busy men – and where’s Gavin?’
‘Thank you for coming down. I’d like to go back over a few details. Firstly, can you confirm you were at Extravaganza all night?’
‘I asked you about my brother.’
‘He’s in another interview room.’
‘Why?’
‘Because I wanted to talk to you separately.’
‘We haven’t done anything wrong.’
‘I didn’t suggest you had. I want to get a clear picture of what happened, and last time we spoke to you, your brother took the lead. I’d like to hear what you have to say. So, can you confirm you were at the nightclub last night until the early hours of this morning?’
He sighed. ‘Yes. I told you that already.’
‘And you took a phone call from Daisy, who told you your house was on fire?’
He blew out his cheeks. ‘Yes.’
‘Why didn’t you return home with your brother to see what damage there was?’
‘I already explained. The nightclub was heaving busy and we didn’t both need to see the state of the house. Gavin’s the one who looks after all the paperwork and insurance and shit like that, so it made sense for him to go. I wouldn’t have been any help, would I? It’s not like I could’ve put out the blaze myself.’
‘And you went about business as usual?’
‘Pretty much. Gavin kept me up to speed with what was happening.’
Lucy tapped her notebook. ‘Now, here’s the thing. You and Gavin seem to have quite an unusual attitude with regards to the property. I have yet to meet anyone who was as laid back as you two are about losing everything they owned in a house fire.’
‘You know why. We aren’t like everyone else. It isn’t that big a deal. Besides, the insurance money will put everything to rights.’
‘But a person was found dead in your house.’
‘And I don’t know who the fuck they are. It has to be the bastard who set fire to it.’ He narrowed his eyes, and once again, Lucy was aware of how menacing he could appear.
‘Do you know this girl?’ Lucy slid the photograph of Roxy towards him.
Kirk glanced at it and pushed it straight back. ‘No.’
‘Look again, Kirk.’ Lucy pushed it towards him again.
He stared at it for a full minute before placing his forefinger on it and sliding it back across the table. He released a sigh and said, ‘No.’
‘You are saying you don’t know this girl and have never seen her before in your life?’
‘That’s exactly what I’m saying. Who is she?’
‘Roxanne Curtis.’
‘Not heard of her.’
‘She’s a fourteen-year-old schoolgirl from Clearview.’
‘Clearview? That shithole!’
‘You know the place?’
‘Who doesn’t? It’s a run-down eyesore filled with druggies and wasters.’
‘That’s quite a sweeping statement to make.’
‘I don’t need to defend my thoughts. Everyone who lives in Armston avoids that area. You only go there if you’re looking for trouble, and sometimes it comes looking for people in Armston. Clearview kids come into town to get into fights and smash up shopfronts and cause fucking mayhem. We’ve had loads of trouble outside the nightclub. Clearview is a shithole,’ he repeated, hissing his words.
‘What sort of trouble?’
‘Kids trying to score, get into fights – all sorts.’
‘You report them to the police?’
‘What’s the point? By the time you lot would have arrived, they’d have scarpered. We doubled security on the doors and keep the fuckers out.’ He clenched and unclenched his fists, and Lucy wondered if he’d taken any of the troublemakers on himself.
‘Did you take matters into your own hands?’
‘Never.’
‘You expect me to believe that?’
‘If I took any of them on, I’d probably kill them. Lethal weapons,’ he said, holding up his wide hands.
Lucy stared hard at him, and he realised he’d said something that could incriminate him. ‘I train – I never fight. It’s all about image. If you look scary enough, people usually behave for you.’
Lucy digested his words. Could he have attacked Roxy and killed her with those fists? She tapped the photograph to draw his attention back to it. ‘Roxanne is also the girl whose body we uncovered in your house.’
‘She set fire to our house?’ His eyes widened in genuine surprise.
‘We don’t know that yet, but it would help if we could find out how she got into your house and what she was doing there.’
&nbs
p; ‘I’m fucked if I know. I’ve never set eyes on her.’
‘You’re completely sure you haven’t heard of her or seen her anywhere? Look again at the photo, Kirk.’
‘I don’t need to look. I don’t know who she is.’ He leant even closer towards Lucy and looked her in the eye. ‘I don’t know who the fuck she is.’
Lucy didn’t move a muscle.
He pushed his chair back suddenly and stood up. ‘You can’t keep me here. Where’s Gavin? We’re leaving.’
‘I’m afraid that’s not possible for the time being. DI Ward is talking to him. What about her mother, Cathy Curtis? Do you know her?’ She showed him a photograph of Cathy.
He shook his head. ‘No, I don’t. I’ve never seen her and I haven’t heard of anyone called Curtis. I can’t for the life of me imagine why this girl would be in our house, how she got in or why on earth she’d set fire to it. Has she got a criminal record?’
‘No, she hasn’t, and we don’t know that she did set fire to your house, just like we don’t know if she was already dead when the fire started.’ She looked pointedly at Kirk, who gave a soft groan.
‘I’ve not seen her before,’ he repeated. ‘She’s never set foot in our house before last night.’
‘You said yourself, your hands are weapons.’
‘No… no. I wanted to explain that I never set on troublemakers. It’s enough to look like you can hurt somebody. I’m not a violent man. Not at all. Ask my brother.’
The macho image had fractured. His eyes pleaded. She let it drop for the moment.
‘What about the name Paul Sadler?’
‘No idea who he is.’
Lucy picked up the photographs and put them in her file. Standing up, she said, ‘If you wouldn’t mind waiting for a while, I’ll be back shortly.’
‘Can’t I go? I don’t know anything.’
‘If you could just wait until we’ve finished talking to your brother, it would be most helpful.’ She walked off, ignoring the loud huffing behind her.
Natalie was finding Gavin hard going. Not only did he not recognise the photos of Roxy and her mother, he was stomping about the interview room, demanding to leave or to have a lawyer. She was rapidly running out of patience.