The Cyclist

by Sullivan Tim

  Ottey was, like Carson, slightly apprehensive about the sea change in this investigation. When they had discovered Alex trading in drugs, albeit performance-enhancing ones, and then his connections with Hellenic and Angelo Sokratis, it seemed to make sense that the answer would lie somewhere therein. But that was, she realised, a rookie-mistake. Things so often weren't what they seemed. But she felt Cross owed her some reassurance, at the very least. At the end of the meeting, Ottey and Cross went to visit Jean and Andy.

  'George...' she started. He knew instinctively what she was going to ask. This wasn't the first time this had happened.

  'Yes I am,' he said.

  'What?' she asked.

  'Certain we should be moving on. You need to put everything we had before to one side. I don't believe any of it is relevant. It would be easier if you discarded it. Completely.'

  'But don't you find it a bit strange that we've been pursuing leads, convinced we were onto something, and then dump them just like that?'

  'No.'

  'Why not?'

  'Because I was never convinced.'

  'Oh yeah, I forgot you're perfect.' He didn't reply for a moment, during which he decided that she wasn't being serious. It was irony, so he felt no need to point out that he was no such thing.

  'It's always a mistake to be "convinced" early in an investigation, as it narrows your focus, which means you are inevitably going to miss something.'

  'But you follow early leads with conviction.'

  'Indeed, but there is a distinct difference – semantic to an extent, granted. But being convinced of something in a case is not the same as pursuing something with conviction. Which you should always do to fulfil the pursuit of it adequately. Being convinced of something before you have sufficient proof – proof which your conviction will either give you or not – can be essentially misleading,' he finished. She thought he had a point. She just wasn't sure, as she parked the car outside Debbie's parents' house, that she knew exactly what it was.

  Their first visit to Debbie's parents had been to inform them of Alex's death and have an initial look at them. Now things had changed. For Cross, Jean and Andy had become persons of interest. This wasn't just because they had nowhere else to look; they had looked elsewhere and come up short. But, as Cross had explained to Mackenzie, it was as important to exclude things in an investigation as to include them. Statistically, as everyone knows, most murders in the United Kingdom happen within the family. Had Alex's slightly colourful – certainly more colourful than they had anticipated – business "interests" not diverted them for a while, they would have been here in Eastville maybe a week earlier.

  'Do you think they know about Debbie's miscarriage?' Ottey asked, before they got out of the car.

  'I doubt it, somehow,' Cross replied.

  'Should we tell them?' she asked.

  'It doesn't really feel our business to. But then again, if you think it might be revealing, then perhaps yes.'

  'So, you'd like me to do it.'

  'I think that's best, yes.'

  Andy let them in. He made them a coffee as they all waited for Jean to appear. She eventually came down, hair a mess and obviously unwashed. She wasn't happy they were there. A cloud of stale alcohol wafted over them as she went into the kitchen and got her cigarettes.

  'We were just wondering if anything had occurred to you since we were last here? Sometimes things just pop back into people's heads,' Ottey began.

  'No. Sorry,' Andy replied.

  'No problem; we were in the area anyway,' said Ottey.

  'Yeah right,' Jean muttered as she took a long drag.

  'Jean....' Andy cautioned her.

  'Have you seen Debbie since our last meeting?' said Ottey, ignoring Jean.

  'No.'

  At this point, Cross noticed that the jigsaw on the table hadn't been finished.

  'You don't seem to have got very far,' he commented.

  'No,' said Andy. 'Like you said, the sky's a bugger.'

  Cross thought for a moment. 'Do you mind if I have a go?' he said.

  'Um, no,' said Andy, a little taken aback. 'Help yourself.' Ottey ignored her partner as he went over to the table, took off his coat, sat down and looked intently at the puzzle.

  'First things first, Andy,' said Cross.

  'Yes?' Andy replied, thinking it was something to do with the case.

  'You need to organise your pieces properly and segregate them. First by content, then obviously any sides; but organise them in sections that roughly correspond to the picture,' said Cross.

  'Do you need the lid? To see the picture?' Andy asked politely, not quite believing he was having this conversation.

  'No, not necessary.' Cross replied swiftly, moving the spare pieces into groups on the table. Andy looked back at Ottey, obviously a bit thrown by Cross' behaviour. She continued as if this was completely normal – which, of course, to her it now was.

  'Not been in touch? Debbie?' she continued.

  'What's it to you?' said Jean, still pissed off at this intrusion.

  'Jean, they're only trying to help,' said Andy.

  'No they're not. I told you this would happen,' she replied.

  'Told him what would happen?' asked Ottey.

  'That you lot would be poking your noses around,' she said.

  'It's kind of our job, when someone's been murdered, Jean,' said Ottey. Jean didn't reply. She took a sip of her coffee, but it was way too hot.

  'Fuck! Did you put any cold water in it?' she said to Andy.

  'Why hasn't she been in touch?' Ottey asked.

  'I don't know. I don't know anything about the way that child's mind works,' said Jean.

  'Her boyfriend's just been murdered. That's a lot for anyone to take on board, let alone a sixteen-year-old girl. I would have expected her to be in touch with her mother,' Ottey continued.

  'Well that just goes to show how much you know her. Or rather don't. Doesn't it?'

  Ottey looked over at Cross, wondering whether he was going to take any part in this, but he was engrossed in the jigsaw.

  'So things must be pretty bad between you then?' Ottey continued.

  'You got that right. That's why she fucked off.'

  'Okay,' said Ottey. She asked them more questions about their relationship with Debbie. It seemed to her that the relationship with the mother had broken down irretrievably. But there was something in Andy's demeanour that had an element of regret about it. That he was sad it'd come to this. Ottey did a little mental maths. She thought Jean actually looked pretty young for a mother of a sixteen-year-old. A bit ropey; she didn't look after herself. But she was still quite young.

  'How old were you when you had Debbie?' she asked.

  'What's that got to do with anything?' Jean spat.

  'It's just a question,' said Andy.

  'Well it's none of her business. I think it's time you left. I need a piss.' She got up and left the room.

  'Sorry. She's been putting it away since you told us about Alex. Actually she's been putting it away ever since Debbie left. She's always a bit rough in the mornings. Might be best if you come in the afternoon next time,' he said helpfully, then added, 'That is, if you need to come back at all.'

  'George. We're leaving,' said Ottey.

  'Just a minute,' he said. They noticed that he'd made huge progress with the jigsaw. With a final flurry, he finished it and was about put the final piece in, when he stopped himself and got up. He put his coat back on and looked at the jigsaw with great satisfaction.

  'That's amazing. Aren't you going to finish it?' Andy said.

  'Oh no, I'll let you do that,' Cross replied.

  'But there's only one piece left.'

  'That's true, but it's very bad form to finish someone else's jigsaw,' said Cross. He looked over at Ottey in an attempt to show her that he could be well-mannered.

  'But you might as well,' Andy laughed.

  Cross looked at Ottey. She gave nothing away, which he took to be a
n admonitory silence.

  'I couldn't possibly,' said Cross.

  'I insist,' said Andy.

  'Oh, very well,' said Cross, far too quickly, putting the piece in place. He looked childishly pleased with himself. He looked back at Ottey, as if expecting to be congratulated, but her expression hadn't changed.

  'He did insist,' he said, in his own defence.

  'It's true, I did. Anyway I was about to pack it in. I'd had enough,' said Andy. They left and as they walked away from the house he called after them.

  'Sixteen. She was sixteen when she had Debbie. Jean.'

  They walked down the road towards Ottey's car. After they got in, Cross turned to her.

  'They have a shed in the back garden.'

  'What about it?' she asked.

  'It's an old shed. Been there a good ten years but it has a brand-new padlock. Very large, brand-new padlock.'

  'And...?' she asked.

  'We’ve seen one just like it before,' he replied. 'Why didn’t you bring up the miscarriage?'

  'She'd buggered off upstairs before I had a chance and it didn't feel right, telling the stepfather before the mother. Like you said, it's really for Debbie to tell them, anyway.’

  Chapter 23

  The next two developments came in rapid succession. The first was an alert from a uniformed unit which had been called to a disturbance at the Adelphi Palace. Cross and Ottey were notified by uniform because they knew one of the owners was the victim in a murder investigation. When Cross and Ottey arrived they found a police car and a custody van outside the restaurant. The exterior back door of the van was open. Jean could be seen inside behind the bars of the interior gate. She looked in a terrible state, red-faced, hair unwashed. The two detectives ignored her, not wanting to get drawn into an unnecessary altercation. The front window of the restaurant was smashed. Inside, two uniforms were talking to Kostas and his father. Debbie was crying in the back of the restaurant, being comforted by Helena.

  Jean had arrived during lunch service, apparently, to see her daughter, who was upstairs in the family flat. They were obviously busy, so Kostas persuaded her to come back a little later. She came back at around four that afternoon, the worse for wear, having waited in a pub around the corner. Debbie didn't want to see her mother, which Jean had refused to believe. She quickly became abusive and Kostas asked her to leave, eventually forcing her out of the door.

  'I wasn't aggressive, I swear. It wasn't that difficult to get her out. She's well pissed,' he said.

  'What's she so angry about?' Ottey asked.

  'That Debbie won't see her. But why would she all of a sudden? She didn't even bother to get in touch after Alex died.'

  'So why now?' Ottey asked.

  'Because of the miscarriage. Little bit late to start behaving like a mother, if you ask me. I know Debs told you that she left because things were bad at home, but it's not true. Jean threw her out.'

  'I didn't know that, no. We thought she'd just left.'

  'Well, she didn't. She's not fit to be a mother, that woman.'

  'How did she know about the miscarriage?' Cross asked.

  'Debbie told her stepfather,' Kostas said, 'and she's been kicking off about that as well. That a daughter should call her mother not her stepfather. I've called him.'

  'Who?' asked Ottey.

  ‘Andy. He's on his way.'

  'Well, he's not going to be happy about that,' Cross said, indicating Jean in the police van.

  'We're not pressing charges,' said Kostas.

  'Why not?' asked Ottey.

  'It's my mum. She won't let us. My dad and I wanted to, but she said no. Thinks that woman's got enough to deal with. A stretch in prison might do her some good though, don't you think? At least it'd dry her out.'

  Ottey went to talk with Helena and Debbie at the back of the restaurant. One of the constables wanted Kostas to finish his statement, even though they weren't taking any action. Cross was pleased to see this young constable going through the proper process. He made a mental note of his name. He then sat down, and waited for Ottey to finish with Debbie. Philippos brought him a coffee.

  'Thank you. You make very good coffee. The best Greek coffee I've had in Bristol,' he said.

  'You're welcome,' said Philippos.

  'Mind you, I think it's the only Greek coffee I’ve had in Bristol, to be honest. But that doesn't in any way take away from the quality.' The old chef didn't quite know how to react to this, and so backed away deferentially.

  Andy arrived fifteen minutes later, looking stressed and none too pleased. He had the briefest of words with Jean through the grill at the back of the van, but walked away as soon as she started yelling abuse at him, telling him to do something and get her out of there. He walked into the restaurant and said hello to Cross, very politely. As soon as Debbie saw him, she ran across the restaurant to him and hugged him, bursting into tears. He held her for a few minutes, stroking her hair and kissing the top of her head. Whatever problems she had with her mother, she didn't have them with her stepfather, it would seem. He was extremely solicitous to both Helena and Philippos, and was apologetic. He told Kostas that he had already called a glazing mate, who would come and measure up later that evening and replace the window. Andy would, of course, pay for the cost. The family seemed to be completely disarmed by his attitude. When Kostas suggested that he might want to get Jean out of the van and take her home, his response was that she could wait. Debbie made her stepfather a cup of tea, which he gratefully accepted. Cross and Ottey observed what was, to all intents and purposes, a family discussing how to move forward in the immediate future with Debbie and her loss. Well, double loss.

  When Andy decided to leave, Ottey said they would be calling him to arrange another visit. It would be better if he was there. They watched as he warned Jean that if she made a fuss, he'd just leave her where she was and she could sleep it off in a cell. After her initial abusive reaction to this, she tearfully acceded and she was released. Andy took her to his van, a black transit, Cross noted. They said goodbye to the family. Cross made a point of talking to Debbie. He told her that she should get in touch with them if she had anything else to tell them. He thought she looked a little frightened, and wondered what it was like to be that frightened of your own mother. It also confirmed for him that she was still holding something back. He decided to pursue it.

  'Debbie, you're not telling us something,' he said.

  'No I'm not,' she replied. It took him a second to work out whether this meant she was agreeing with him, or denying it.

  'You are. It would be best to tell us now and save a lot of time. We'll find out in the end,' he said.

  'It's inevitable,' said Ottey, joining in.

  'What is it?' Cross pressed.

  'Nothing,' Debbie insisted. Cross just kept looking at her, trying to make an assessment of what it could be. There could only be one option, with the way things were going.

  'You know where Alex was going that night. Is that it?' he said.

  'He was going to a meeting at the airport. You already know that,' she said.

  'But you know where he was going afterwards,' he went on.

  'No I don't.'

  'But you have a pretty good idea,' Cross said. She didn't reply. She looked at Helena and Kostas, who both seemed to be waiting expectantly. She looked down and started fiddling with her nails. Helena looked up.

  'Maybe she'll tell us and we can call you,' she said, trying to be helpful.

  'We don't really have time for that, Mrs Paphides. Need I remind you, we are looking for your son's killer, and if Debbie knows something, or even if it's just that she thinks she knows something...'

  'I think he was going to my mother's. I know he was,' Debbie said quickly.

  'Why would you think that?'

  'Because he said so. We had an argument about it,' she said, bursting into tears. 'The last time we talked, we were having an argument and now I can't even say "sorry".' Helena comforted her and lo
oked up at Cross as if to imply that he'd got what he came for and now should really leave.

  'One more question, Debbie. Why? Why was he going?' Cross asked.

  'To tell her about the baby,' she said. The very mention of the lost baby upset her even more. Cross turned on his heels and left.

  'Thanks, Debbie. That could be really important,' Ottey said and looked at Helena. 'Call us if there's anything else, or if we can help in any way.' Helena nodded silently and Ottey walked out of the restaurant.

  'Just as I suspected,' Cross said, as he and Ottey got back into the car. 'It answers the one outstanding question. Who told Jean and Andy about the pregnancy. Alex. He was there that night.'

  The second development happened the next day, when Catherine from CCTV knocked on his office door, carrying her iPad.

  'So we've had a bit of success with the van's logo.'

  'At last,' said Ottey, before correcting herself. 'I'm sorry, that wasn't meant as a criticism, more an expression of relief, Cat.'

  'No worries. Anyway, it's part of a fleet belonging to South West Plumbers. This is their website.'

  She showed them her iPad. On it the plumbing firm's website, with the boss standing in front of a vanguard of vans, arms out. He looked like one of those American car salesmen who adorn huge billboards down the sides of American highways. He was dressed a little smarter than them, though. His smile had more to do with smug self-satisfaction, Cross felt, than a warm, friendly welcome.

  'The vans are the same shade of blue as the paint on the garage, aren't they?’ she asked Cross.

  'It looks like it,' he said quietly, almost to himself.

  Later that afternoon, they drove to Andy and Jean's house, as arranged. It was a miserable afternoon. What Cross referred to as "wet" rain poured down. It felt as though it was only falling out of the sky because each drop was too heavy to actually stay up there. They got horribly wet as they ran from the car to the house. They knocked on the door. Jean appeared at the window to see who it was. They could almost hear her sigh through the glass, despite the thundering rain. She didn't appear and open the door for a while, by which time the two detectives were well and truly soaked through. Ottey thought this was a deliberate ploy on Jean's part, after yesterday's time in the police van. Cross thought it was because she was downing a glass of wine, before hiding the glass in the kitchen.