‘It’s us,’ Ade said and helped Gemma to her feet. Gemma’s hand slipped into hers.
‘I don’t see what I can do for you.’ The brisk young woman with neatly trimmed hair behind the counter kept her eyes on the pink cardboard file in front of her.
‘Ms Derry has a ten-year-old daughter. She is without shelter and that makes her a priority case. You have an obligation to meet the housing needs of families with children. I don’t need to remind you of that.’ Ade spoke firmly. Nadia nodded.
‘According to what you’ve told me, she is intentionally homeless.’ The young woman smiled. Was she trying to look sympathetic or was she laughing at them? She spoke in flat unmodulated tones. ‘In any case I have been instructed to inform all applicants that we simply don’t have any housing available. Ms Derry was on our waiting list a year ago but I believe she moved out of our area. Where did you say you are? She can rejoin the list but I’m afraid it will take quite some time.’
She considered, her eyes on Gemma.
‘What about your parents?’
‘Dad’s gone. Mum’s in Belfast. She don’t want me.’
‘Ms Derry was forced out of her flat by a violent partner, who,’ Ade leaned forward and lowered her voice, ‘she believed would rape her daughter.’
She felt Gemma’s hand tighten on hers so hard her fingers hurt. Amy was very quiet.
‘That’s different.’ The young woman leaned forward. ‘Have you complained to the police? Is there a court order? Then we might be able to do something.’
‘He’d kill me if I went to the cops. They never do anything, anyway.’ Gemma sounded as if she was going to cry. Ade longed to put an arm round her, to comfort her. ‘Please try to understand. This young woman is in fear of violence and sexual assault on her daughter. She must be given priority.’
‘I’m so sorry. I’d like to help but we just don’t have any empty housing. Our budget for emergency bed and breakfast has been cut again. Next week we will be deciding which of the families currently in emergency accommodation must make alternative arrangements.’
She closed the file and laid a hand on it.
‘I need something more concrete: an executed eviction notice or a court order. Without that I can do nothing. Now, there are others waiting.’
Ade flushed and took a deep breath. ‘Can’t you help us? Give Ms Derry and Amy something until we get the order sorted out?’
‘I’m sorry. I’ve explained the situation.’
Ade stared at her. She spoke very softly. ‘Let me ask you: Do you like your job?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Do you like your job?’
The young woman’s eyes flashed. ‘For your information and in the interests of transparency, I hate it. I hate the council,’ her voice rose, louder and harsher, ‘I hate the government, I hate the cuts, I hate the people who won’t pay tax.’
She was on her feet shouting over their heads: ‘I hate the fact that there’s never enough housing. I hate coming to work, I hate being at work, I hate the two-hour commute home to my own little flat every evening. I hate the whole bloody thing!’
Ade heard a rustle run round the waiting room, she turned and saw that everyone had their eyes fixed on her, waiting for something to happen.
‘But it’s no good. It’s never any good. There isn’t any housing. I really am sorry.’ The young woman groped in her jacket pocket and pushed something towards them under the grill. It was a twenty-pound note.
‘It’s OK,’ said Ade. ‘We’re going.’
31
‘You can stay here for a bit,’ said Ade. ‘There’s plenty of space, you get the bedroom. There’s food in the fridge, we can go shopping after we’ve eaten.’
Gemma stared at her, Amy clinging to her skirt. Ade wanted to put her arms round her.
‘You can’t do that, it’s your flat. You need it.’
‘I want to do it, it’s right I do it and I’m going to do it. It’s not for ever. We’ll work it out.’
‘But it’s so quiet here and there’s grass outside.’ Gemma looked round as if she couldn’t believe her eyes. ‘It’s like on TV, how can I thank you? I just can’t, I’ll never…I can’t.’
I’m going to do this. And, when everything’s sorted, I’m going to get you in college.
‘I want to do it… just for a bit. I might be moving out soon anyway.’
Amy looked up at her and spoke so softly she could hardly make out the words: ‘You won’t tell that man, will you?’
‘He’ll be OK, he’s Paul. He helps me.’
‘You won’t tell him?’ Her hands were fists, holding tight onto her mother’s dress, her face turned into her. I’m the only one, Ade thought, just me standing between them and everything else.
‘No, I won’t tell him, not just now. You’ll be safe here. You’ll have Christmas here, think of that. Now let’s eat.’
She opened the door of the fridge.
‘Look what I got.’
‘She’s got sausages! And chips!’
‘I got ice-cream in the freezer compartment.’
It was a long time since she’d cooked a proper meal for anyone, even if it was only sausages, beans and chips. She took care over it, made sure she warmed the plates and that everything was ready at just the same time. She didn’t let the others help; she said they could lay the table, then she realised they weren’t used to eating at a table. She felt good, standing there at the stove, concentrating on getting the sausages the right shade of brown before she turned them. This was something she could do for them, something she was good at.
She watched as Amy took a cautious mouthful of ice-cream, licking it carefully from the spoon with the tip of her tongue. Her face lit up and she smiled for the first time. Ade got pasta, bread, marge, cheese, tinned tomatoes, eggs, burgers, beans, red sauce, brown sauce, more ice cream, more oven chips, pouring honey and a magazine from the corner shop while Gemma and Amy did the washing up.
‘That must have cost you, I don’t know, a lot of money,’ said Gemma, staring at the pile on the table.
‘We’ll sort it out later. I’m going to have to go now. Nadia and I will be in touch very soon. We’ll take you to Women’s Aid, get an injunction against that bastard, and we’ll get you back in your own flat.’
‘Don’t go.’ Amy looked up at her with big eyes, holding onto Gemma. ‘Please. That man will come. The other one, back there.’
She huddled herself against her mother.
‘She means Maxie,’ said Gemma. ‘She don’t ever use his name.’
Ade squatted and touched Amy, but she didn’t turn round. ‘Trust me, Amy. I promise you he won’t. I’ve got to sort things out. I will come back. I’ll bring some more of these.’
Amy half-turned, one eye staring back at her, and Ade held out a gob-stopper. After a moment, the girl reached out for it. She inspected it, popped it in her mouth, took it out, examined it again, and put it back in. Gemma put her free arm round Ade and held her for a moment.
‘See you soon,’ she said. ‘May God bless you.’
32
Ade leaned on the parapet opposite the Tower of London, watching the waves scudding along the river. The weather had turned and Paul had his jacket pulled tight round him. Two days to Christmas. Record takings on Oxford Street, same as last year and the year before. Ade thought of Gemma and her Christmas. It’d be a lot better than it might have been, thanks to Webster’s cash. Webster was back in his tower, just the same as ever. She sent everyone the spreadsheets and his lawyers followed them up with injunctions and everyone said there was no bloody evidence. The papers were full of stories about high-handed bureaucrats and Scrooge in the Revenue, and who are the real blood-suckers. Don’t think about it.
‘Freezing,’ said Paul. ‘Let’s walk. Nadia told me how i
t went at the homeless place.’
‘Not good. But we handled it. Gemma’s in my place now.’
He stopped and looked at her. ‘But… what about you?’
‘There’s a sofa.’
‘You’re a good person.’
‘Maybe I just don’t like being on my own.’
‘I meant it.’
He kissed her. She looked out over the river towards London Bridge. Somewhere ahead of her was the tangle of streets and the café where she’d first met him. Things happened and you hated people and you took your hate and you moulded it and shaped it and you made it into something you could use. Maybe the same applied to love?
‘It’s not that, is it? What you said about being on your own? You could come over to the squat.’
She smiled and pulled him to her. ‘No, it’s not that. It was Gemma at first, I thought if I’d not been lucky, I could have been like that, my life could have been just like her’s.’ She was speaking softly, her mouth very close to Paul’s. ‘Then I realised it was the way Amy held her. The way Amy trusted her, the only one she trusted in the world. She had something I wanted, I wanted to be her and I can’t be her so I’m going to help her. That’s what it is, that’s why she’s sleeping in my bedroom and I’m on the sofa.’
Paul stood there in her arms, not saying anything. After a while he spoke: ‘That’s cool.’ He glanced away, over the river.
‘Paul, I want to be with you. You know I do. Only, I’ve been through a lot. Give me time, it’ll take a little time. You’ve been there with me, you stood by me. I love you so much.’
He smiled and blinked and said, ‘I love you, Ade. Very much indeed. I want to be with you.’
‘Soon.’
There was a silence between them. Ade continued: ‘She’s the same age I was at college. I’m going to sort things out for her, I want to. You can help me.’
‘Yeah.’
His phone buzzed. He glanced at it and laughed. ‘You’ll like this,’ he said. ‘About Webster. It’s all over Twitter.’
She swung round to face him. ‘Not…?’
‘No, they’ve put the lid on that. It’s Jessica. Seems she thought a bit about what we said. She’d been taking notes on Webster and his friends. She put it all on Facebook. Result: she’s raised her profile, Webster’s missus is divorcing him and the tabloids love it: ‘Sex and the City’, ‘Dirty Webster Taken to the Cleaners’.’
‘It’s not the main deal.’
‘Look on the bright side. Mrs Webster wants the children and half his money and the country house and the staff and the holiday home on the Greek island and the Roller. Lots of people think the country house and the holiday home is greedy, but it’s going to be messy and the papers love it. And it’s having a go at how the bastards treat women. Anyway it’s fun. I like a laugh.’
‘You don’t let things get you down do you?’ She squeezed his hand.
‘Got to keep going.’
‘So he gets more stick for how he treats women than for all the money he’s stolen in his tax fraud.’
‘Maybe there’s something in that. He’s a bastard all round.’
Later she said: ‘Sexism, publicity, just a minute, I’ve had an idea.’
She felt his hand stiffen in hers. ‘Listening.’
‘You know, I talked about welfare rights, advice, counselling, getting injunctions, taking appeals, all that kind of thing?’
‘S’not easy.’
‘Sure. Just thought. I could start now. With my friends in the police.’
‘Where are you going?’
‘Snow Hill Police Station.’
‘That’s City of London! Wait. I’m scared for you, let’s talk this over. I’m coming with you.’
The desk sergeant knocked on the door labelled CI Mayland, Fraud Section and pushed it open. He stood back and nodded to Ade. Mayland was seated behind the desk, a computer to one side and her eyes on the paper file in front of her. She was eating something. Ade pushed the door to and said: ‘Good afternoon.’
Mayland looked up and smiled her sympathetic smile. She slapped the file shut and, reaching down, closed a drawer, locked it and pocketed the key.
‘Ms Corey! Please sit down. You told my desk officer you had some information on the Webster case. What can I do for you?’
She pressed a button on her phone and glanced at the door.
Ade sat with her hands on the table. ‘Thank you for agreeing to see me.’
‘I told you I wanted to help you. I really do.’
Mayland reached out to pat the back of Ade’s hand. Ade put her hands in her lap. The door opened and Jones poked his lean, lantern-jawed face through the gap. ‘Ma’am?’
‘I’ve brought someone with me. My friend prefers not to discuss her business with a male officer.’ Ade spoke firmly. ‘Sergeant Jones could wait outside.’
Mayland looked sharply at Ade. ‘I’m sorry?’
‘It really does concern Mr Webster. Something you need to know about. Sergeant Jones really should go, just for a couple of minutes.’
Mayland glanced at him and nodded. He withdrew.
‘So. What do you wish to discuss?’
‘There was a disagreement at Mr Webster’s offices the other day. I suppose he told you about it? Mr Affarn was there. I believe Mr Webster became trapped in a lift.’
‘Can’t say he mentioned it. Of course, I know about the email business. I saw you make a fool of yourself on TV. I really do want to help you, but you don’t make it easy. You should have thought about the injunction.’
‘Easy to get injunctions when the judge went to the same college you did and so did the lawyer – and the CI of the City Fraud Squad.’
‘That’s just the kind of insinuation you really mustn’t make in front of witnesses. But I’ve got a thick skin. I’m proud of being among the first women admitted to Brasenose. And I should be – only undergraduate there in my year from a state school. Did you know that? I am trying to help you, but you see the problem.’
‘Let me explain. I’ve a friend, Ms Gemma Derry. She’s part of it, I’d like to bring her in.’
‘OK.’
Ade slipped outside, holding the door open. After a moment she led Amy through by the hand and, close behind her, her mother. Gemma had washed and combed her hair. Her face looked fuller, less sallow. Amy was neat as ever. Ade pulled over a chair for Gemma and she sat with Amy on her lap, her arms round her. Gemma stared at Mayland. Amy peeped over her arm, slowly gaining the courage to look round the room.
Ade sat there, facing Mayland, her chest so tight she could hardly breathe. ‘Gemma and Amy Derry. Chief Inspector Mayland.’
Mayland smiled: ‘So good to meet you.’
She offered her hand and Gemma took it. Amy locked her arms firmly round her mother.
‘So,’ said Mayland.
‘Gemma and Amy have left their flat in fear of Gemma’s partner, Maxie. He subjected Gemma to a regime of rape and sexual bullying. They left when he started to threaten Amy with the same. Amy doesn’t like men near her. We didn’t find it easy to get her to come into the station. That’s why we didn’t want Jones here.’
‘I see.’
Mayland was looking at Gemma like she mattered, she wasn’t just another minor problem in the day. Ade felt herself warming to the CI despite everything. Not easy for a woman to make your way in the City police, she thought.
Mayland continued, addressing Gemma: ‘You are the victim of a serious crime and it is to your credit that you have come forward. We take this very seriously and we know it is very hard for you. Men like Maxie must not be tolerated. But I deal with Serious Fraud. You should be talking to my colleagues. I’ll take you over, make sure they understand and that your case is handled by a woman officer.’
‘But that will have to be a matter for a court. Not difficult if you have the evidence, but it will take a bit of time. What’s all this got to do with Webster?’
Ade slid her hand into her pocket and took out a black smartphone. She laid it on the desk, screen uppermost.
‘Webster. It’s about how he treats women.’
Mayland glanced at Gemma and Amy, then back at Ade. ‘Go on,’ she said.
‘Here’s some film we’ve shot of him. There’s lots more, same kind of thing.’ She pressed the button and the tiny images of the fat man and the long-haired young woman in the impossibly high heels climbing the hotel steps played through.
‘No one likes that kind of thing but it’s not illegal, Ms Corey.’
‘Bonking anything half his age, or younger. You’ve been in Webster’s office, you’ve seen how he treats his secretary?’
‘Yes,’ said Mayland. ‘Tiresome. But she hasn’t complained. What’s it got to do with Ms Derry?’
‘Listen. He’s not just in it for money or sex. It’s power, it’s being able to do what you like with anyone you like. With their body. Same as Maxie really. That’s power. Webster treats women like he does because he can. Same as Maxie treats Gemma and Amy.’
‘Don’t think I don’t know that. I’ve said I’ll help Gemma. But my job is fraud. Is there anything you can tell me about Webster, anything serious?’
Ade kept her eyes fixed on Mayland’s. Her heart throbbed in her chest. You have to do this, she thought. It’s not really for Morwen or for Gemma. It’s for you.
She spoke very softly. ‘You know he tried to rape me?’
She took out the metal pen, clicked out the point and laid it on the desk. Mayland stared at her, unmoving, her face expressionless. Ade could scarcely voice the words.
‘So I stabbed him in the neck with this. You remember? That night Webster was attacked on the street. When he told you he couldn’t remember anything that happened. When you came to see me at the office the next day.’
Ardent Justice Page 16