Sound

by Catherine Fearns

  At this, Lacey looked terrified. ‘But even so, it’s going a bit above and beyond for Forrest to give you all this. So what else is going on?’

  ‘I don’t know. Honestly, I can’t explain it. At first, I couldn’t believe my luck. And then I thought, what does he want from me? But… he doesn’t want anything. And Justine encouraged me to take the job too, so I knew she was fine with it. That he didn’t want to, you know, pull me or anything.’

  ‘Here’s another thing I don’t understand,’ said Darren. ‘The entrance fee for Lumina has gone up from ten pounds to forty pounds – forty pounds! And the drinks prices are through the roof as well, apparently. And yet people are still clamouring to get in. The place has been drug-raided twice and nothing’s been found. So what is it about the place? What’s so special about your music, Lacey?’

  Lacey shook her head, seemingly as mystified as Darren.

  ‘The thing is, I’m a good DJ, I know I am. I play tracks that everyone in Liverpool likes, and I mix them in a dead cool way, you know. I’ve been practicing for years. But all this, the performance, the equipment – it’s all new to me. I don’t understand the sound systems, I just have my decks. And anyway, they have these special amplifiers, dead new technology apparently, that create a surround sound on the dancefloor. Maybe that’s why everyone likes it so much. So the club has a sound guy, you know, like a technician, who switches everything on for me, and sets the levels and whatnot. Shawn is quite particular about what level of bass he wants, so I’m not allowed to touch the main faders. Other than that, I can play whatever I want.’

  ‘What’s the name of the technician?’

  ‘Ollie, he’s called.’

  But Lacey had something else to add. ‘There’s one other thing that Forrest likes – he has this screen, it’s called a spectrogram, and he likes me to switch it on now and again, when I get to the best bits of tracks, you know, when the bass kicks in. I think it’s dead cheesy but everyone goes mad for it on the floor.’

  ‘What is on the screen?’

  ‘Just patterns, like. It’s sort of like a spinning number eight, or one of those infinity symbols, you know. Like the one on the roof of the hotel. He wants to make it the new logo of the club.’

  ‘All right Lacey. Thanks. I’ll see if you and Dave can get out of here soon.’

  ‘Is anything going to happen to him?’

  ‘He’ll be released without charge. But he won’t be coming back to work, Lacey. Not for a while, at least. We’ll have to suspend him. Make sure he stays out of that club, will you?’

  ‘I’ll try.’

  Twenty

  ‘Thanks for coming with me, Helen,’ Darren said as they crawled through the Crosby traffic towards Blundellsands. This was not an entirely orthodox way of doing things, and it certainly wasn’t an orthodox police visit. His enforced short hours were turning out to be extremely useful for fitting in these extras, this semi-police work.

  ‘No problem at all, Darren, it just so happens I had finished my teaching for today anyway. And I’m quite intrigued to meet a glamorous footballer’s wife. If a little nervous.’

  ‘I’m a bit nervous too, to be honest. I should have done this ages ago, I just didn’t know if I could look her in the eye.’

  ‘But let me get this straight. Justine Kuper, wife of Thomas Kuper, is having an affair with Shawn Forrest. And somehow, through Kuper’s grandmother – that terrifying old lady we met in Switzerland – Forrest must have learnt the techniques of coupe-feu and believes he is using them for nefarious purposes. Does Justine know? Are they both members of this cult of Adramelech?’

  ‘I don’t know. Honestly, I don’t know.’

  ‘And why are we visiting her today?’

  ‘Two reasons. First, because there’s something going on in that Lumina club, and Justine might be our best chance of finding out what it is. And secondly, because…’ He didn’t know how to explain. ‘Because Thomas Kuper asked me to, to, keep an eye on the baby. He thinks the baby is in danger.’

  ‘From Justine?’

  ‘From Shawn.’ He sighed. ‘The baby is Forrest’s. And if Forrest truly believes in this demonic cult, then he will kill his own child.’

  ‘Ah yes, according to the snippets about the book I’ve found online, Adramelech ordered his Sepharvite followers to kill their children as proof of loyalty. So Thomas Kuper knows about this book too? Surely he doesn’t believe it will happen?’

  ‘Like you always say, Helen, belief is more important than truth. Even if he’s not the biological father, Thomas still loves Alfie as his own.’

  ‘We need to get hold of a copy of that book, Darren. I tried so hard but I couldn’t find it anywhere. All I could get were excerpts on the internet, and I don’t even know if those were genuine.’

  They pulled up outside the Kuper house, on Sandy Lane in the Blundellsands footballer belt. Every house was different on Sandy Lane, except that they were all extravagantly designed. This one was an oversized modern mansion which attempted to combine as many elements of architectural grandeur as possible. Stone lions perched on posts between wrought iron gates and the gravel driveway encircled a marble fountain, which stood in front of a huge white-pillared porch dominating the red-brick frontispiece, and finished off with mock-Tudor gables.

  ‘One more question, Darren, sorry. Why am I here?’

  He looked straight ahead, his hand still on the brake. ‘I’m not sure. Moral support? I just wanted you to be here. Is that ok?’

  Helen put her hand on his. ‘It’s more than ok. Come on.’

  The electric gates opened and, as they crunched across the driveway, the front door was opened by Thomas Kuper. He wore expensive-looking loungewear. Helen thought he looked even more handsome in real life than on television. He and Darren lingered over their handshake, while Helen watched the awkward eye-contact between them with apparent interest.

  ‘Thomas, this is my friend Helen. She’s been helping me with… well, everything.’

  ‘Helen. A pleasure to meet you.’ He shook her hand and nodded solemnly. ‘Come in. Justine is in here, and Alfie is in the garden with my mother-in-law.’

  They walked into the marble hallway that Darren knew well. Helen looked as though she was marvelling at the luxury, as it opened out into a huge open-plan kitchen and living area. Justine was perched on a bar stool at the breakfast counter, engrossed with her phone. She jumped up when they entered, startled. Thomas had clearly not told her they were coming, so that it was something of an ambush.

  ‘Hello, Justine,’ said Darren.

  ‘Hello.’ Justine looked unsure how to react to him. Darren wondered if she knew about Matt’s death. Had Forrest told her? He was sure they would have talked about it.

  Thomas motioned for them to sit on the sofas, and then went to prepare drinks in the kitchen. Unwilling to entertain the guests alone, Justine followed him, whispering angrily in his ear as he moved around the kitchen. Helen looked through the huge glass windows. There was a patio, and a garden beyond. It was a sunny afternoon and there were two babies and two women playing on the grass. The women were facing each other cross-legged, and the babies, who both looked around nine or ten months old, were learning to stand up. They were giggling as they wobbled on their legs, facing each other and clutching the fingers of the women who sat behind them. Muffled sounds of delighted laughter could be heard through the glass.

  Helen leaned over and whispered to Darren, ‘Are they twins? I thought she just had one baby.’

  ‘She does. The boy is her son, Alfie, and the woman holding him up is Val Killy, Justine’s mother. And I’ve just realised who the other baby is. The woman in the sari is Mrs Ghosh, the neighbour from across the road. She’s a foster carer. And that baby…’ he looked over to the kitchen to check they were still out of earshot, ‘That baby is the daughter of Andrew Shepherd. The Ghosh family is amazing, they’ve fostered so many kids. I was glad when I heard it was them.’

  Helen put a hand to
her mouth. ‘The baby that I held? In that basement? Oh my goodness.’

  Helen had to put her other hand on Darren’s knee to steady herself, and when she looked into his eyes, he realised what a shock it must be to her. They both looked back at the baby as they relived that terrible night in the cottage off the M6. Where Helen had held a baby, born possibly without sin, and marked for death. And now, that baby was playing with a baby born into the clutches of a demonic cult, and possibly also marked for death. Heaven and hell facing each other. What did it all mean? She looked at Darren for answers, but he had none.

  And now Thomas and Justine were sitting down with a tray of drinks, Justine appearing deeply uncomfortable. She continued to fiddle with her phone as she asked, ‘What’s this about?’ She looked from Darren to Helen to Thomas, and they all looked at each other, wondering who was going to start.

  Darren decided to plunge in. ‘Justine. Let’s just cut to the chase. We know that you are having an affair with Shawn Forrest.’

  Justine opened her mouth to protest, before realising it was useless, when she looked at Thomas and his neutral expression. He already knew.

  ‘It’s ok, Justine, I’ve known for a long time. And I also know that you are afraid. That you don’t want this anymore. We can help you. Help Alfie. I love him as if he were my own son.’

  ‘He is your son,’ she swallowed.

  Thomas said nothing, just looked at her. Darren said,

  ‘Justine, something is happening at that Lumina club, as you must know. You go there all the time. There was a riot, Justine. People have died, and I think it’s connected to what’s happening at the club. What can you tell us? What is Shawn Forrest up to at the moment? What sort of drugs are they doing in there?’

  But Darren was becoming agitated, angry, and it wasn’t going to help. Helen stepped in, gently. ‘Justine, I know you didn’t want all those people to die. In the fires. I know you don’t want more people to die. You’re a good person. And you love your family. You have been used. Now it’s time to put things right.’

  Justine said, ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’ But there was petulance, and she was less than convincing.

  At that moment the patio doors slid open and Val Killy came in from the garden with Alfie in her arms. That’s all we need, thought Darren, expecting to be sent packing by the formidable sister of crime boss Max Killy. But there was a different look in her eyes today. She remained standing, and looked at Justine.

  ‘It’s time to do the right thing, Justine. I’ve been protecting you for too long.’

  ‘Mum, what d’you mean?’

  ‘D’you think I’m stupid? How do you think I feel, looking at Alfie and seeing the face of that monster? And God knows Max wasn’t the best brother in the world, but I didn’t want him to die like that. Burned to death…’

  Darren noticed that Val already seemed to know what they were discussing, as if she had planned it in advance with Thomas. He coughed to interject:

  ‘Mrs Killy, are you saying that Shawn Forrest killed Max? Because the verdict was faulty wiring at the sunbed salon.’

  ‘Course he bloody killed him,’ she spat. ‘Like he always does, clears out his enemies. Max was the last vestige of the old guard. And no, I haven’t got any fuckin’ evidence. Shawn Forrest is turning this city into Las Vegas with all these bloody skyscrapers, soon we won’t even recognise the place.’

  Thomas moved closer to Val as if to comfort her, but she shrugged him away. ‘Don’t think I’ve got any sympathy for you, Thomas. You married my daughter under false pretences. And ever since we went to that godawful Swiss village to stay with your grandmother, nothing has been the same. It’s been fuckin’ weird around here.’ Alfie was squirming and she let him down to scale the coffee table. Helen smiled at him as he brushed clumsily past her knees. Justine held out her arms to pick him up but he avoided her and collapsed onto this father’s shins, giggling.

  Justine threw down her phone and wrung her hands. Her green eyes welled up and a single tear fell down her face as she looked at Alfie and Thomas.

  ‘What can you tell us, Justine?’ Darren felt exhilarated at the thought that Justine might actually be turning, and tried not to show his emotion. But she wiped away the tear, her face stiffened like her mother’s and her green eyes resumed their vacancy.

  ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about. Mum, tell them. I don’t know what you mean.’

  Helen said, with gentle urgency, ‘Where is the book, Justine?’

  ‘What book?’

  ‘The Ars Adramelechum. I think you know it. I think maybe you took it from Liverpool Library, last year. If Shawn Forrest believes in that book, it might help us to…’

  Justine opened her mouth to protest, and then changed her mind.

  ‘I don’t have it anymore. He made me take it out of the library. And he has it now. I can’t control him.’

  ‘I know you’re scared of him, Justine,’ said Helen, reaching over to place a hand on her knee.

  ‘I am scared. I’m scared for Alfie,’ the girl said, and burst into tears. Darren’s phone rang and he got up to answer.

  ‘Boss, where are you?’ Colette asked. ‘Colvin wants us at the mortuary, he’s got something.’

  Twenty-One

  Helen and Darren headed down the driveway towards the gate, leaving Thomas standing on the doorstep, holding Alfie.

  ‘Well. That was weird,’ whispered Helen. ‘I feel as if we just set off a huge family crisis in there.’

  ‘If we did, it had been brewing for a very long time.’

  As they waited for the electronic gates to open, they heard the crunch of gravel behind them, and turned to see the woman in the sari pushing a pram containing the baby girl. She had come around the side of the house from the back garden. The pram wheels were struggling in the gravel so Darren rushed forward to help the woman carry the pushchair through the gates. Meanwhile, Helen seemed to melt at the sight of the little girl, who beamed at her happily.

  ‘Oh thank you,’ said the woman. ‘It’s always tricky to navigate this driveway. You’re a policeman, aren’t you? I think I recognise you from the family court.’

  ‘That’s right, Detective Inspector Darren Swift. I remember you from a case a while back. Mrs Ghosh, isn’t it? Actually I was involved in the case involving this little one. Elizabeth, right?’

  ‘Lizzie, yes. Were you really? On that case? What a terrifying start she had in life. She’s doing very well now, though.’

  Darren realised he hadn’t introduced Helen. ‘Actually, Helen here was involved too. She…’

  He wasn’t sure how to explain Helen’s involvement, but he was saved, because Helen was enraptured with the baby and had squatted down on the pavement to play with her. From the upstairs of the house, three faces watched the scene from three different windows: Justine, Val and Thomas.

  ‘She seems such a happy baby,’ said Helen, gazing at Elizabeth, who had grasped her little finger tightly. ‘You’re obviously doing a wonderful job. Do you come and play here often?’ She motioned back towards the Kuper house.

  ‘Oh yes, ever since they’ve been old enough to interact, and especially recently. They’re becoming inseparable, those two, like twins or an old married couple, we say. Something clicked a few weeks ago, and it’s funny, because when they first met as babies, they didn’t seem to like each other. In fact, Alfie used to scream the place down.’

  ‘What about Lizzie? I can’t imagine this gorgeous girl screaming,’ said Helen, unable to tear her eyes away.

  ‘Oh no, she never cries. She’s the most peaceful baby I’ve ever looked after. Remarkable, considering what happened to her at birth.’

  Darren was itching to get away, not just because he had to get over to the mortuary, but because of his profound unease around this baby. She needs to be protected. He made a show of opening the car door, but Helen didn’t get the hint.

  ‘Are you going to adopt her, then?’ she asked Mrs Ghos
h.

  ‘No, I’m just a foster carer. I have teenagers of my own. I watch the children come and go. She will go on the adoption register, although it might take a while due to her disability.’

  ‘Disability?’

  ‘She’s deaf. They don’t know why, but it can happen in premature births. She doesn’t seem to have any other issues.’

  ‘You would never know.’

  ‘No, she interacts wonderfully, doesn’t she? But she’s profoundly deaf, has been since birth. She will interpret our world in her own way. Well, goodbye for now. Nice to talk to you.’

  Mrs Ghosh turned towards her own house. Then Helen and Darren jumped. The Kupers’ pet peacock had appeared on the driveway behind the closed gate, and now poked its head through the railings. As the baby was wheeled away, the bird shook its tail feathers into a huge fan that covered the whole driveway. They hurriedly got into the car and drove away, both thoroughly disconcerted.

  ‘Darren, I’m not sure exactly what happened in there today – whether it was something monumental or nothing at all. But now we know that Justine had the book. And that Shawn Forrest has it still. Justine looks scared. Perhaps you can persuade her to testify against Forrest?’

  ‘It’s unlikely. And it would be so damaging for Thomas. Plus, Forrest is careful – we need evidence. We need to catch him red-handed with something or he’ll get off again. She’s not the sharpest tool in the box is she, Justine?’

  ‘Don’t be too quick to judge, Darren. Look at Mikko. He may not be the most eloquent person in the world, to put it mildly. But he’s the smartest person I’ve ever met.’

  ‘Yeah, ok,’ he conceded. ‘Listen, do you mind if I drop you at Hall Road Station? I’ve got to get down to the mortuary.’

  ‘Of course. Darren, I think we need to get hold of that book. Remember – belief is more important than truth. Whatever is in that book might tell us what Shawn Forrest is planning to do.’

  ‘But you tried everything to get hold of it, right? In the summer?’