by G D Parker
‘No, nothing. You?’
‘Not to me. However, there was one thing, boss.’
‘Go on?’
‘His right hand was heavily bandaged. I challenged him on it, making general convo, and he explained that he did it when making a hot drink. He gave a lot of detail though, considering it was just a case of spilling boiling water on his hand,’ Roberts rationalised.
‘That’s always a red flag for me. When they provide a lot of detail for something minor, liar springs to mind!’
‘I agree, boss. Do you think we have enough to pull him in?’
‘I do, if he matches the description and has a burnt hand, presuming he burnt it whilst throwing acid in Emily’s face, then bring him in.’
‘Will do, boss.’ Roberts turned his car round for a second time and made his way back to Andy Styles to make the arrest – even after twenty plus years on the force, he still got the adrenaline buzz from it.
17
Every breakfast, lunch and dinner was the same bullshit for Tommy McGregor. A man named Makka wouldn’t leave him alone with his constant taunts – it had become a routine. Tommy could take it as it came and made sure he gave a little back when he was feeling brave.
Makka was one of Killroy’s chums. They all knew it was Tommy who had killed Killroy, but no one could prove it. The rest of the inmates sat back and just watched the show, some scared that Tommy would kill them too. Makka, however, didn’t fear anyone. ‘Try and kill me,’ he’d say, or, ‘I invite you to stick a knife in me’. Clearly, Makka was in the right place behind bars. No one sane would be walking around saying that.
It was morning, and Tommy collected his breakfast as usual. It was the same food every morning; eggs on toast, prison standard. He sat down, and the neighbouring inmates moved away, creating a gap between them in anticipation of an outburst. Tommy was sitting minding his own business, not looking at anyone, sipping his black coffee. He had zoned out and was lost in his own mind.
All of a sudden, something firm hit the top of his head hard as a dinner tray struck him. The impact was loud, sounding worse than the actual blow felt, but it pushed him off the bench at the dinner table. The fall hurt more, as he banged the back of his head on the hard floor.
A few sniggers could be heard from the other inmates, then silence fell in anticipation of what was going to happen next. Tommy brazenly got up off the floor, rubbed the top of his head sarcastically, and blew a kiss to Makka. He then sat back down to finish his food. Wanker! he thought.
The same thing happened again, but this time Tommy didn’t fall; he just absorbed the impact. This time, it hurt like hell, but he wasn’t going to show it, and he tried to continue eating.
SMACK! Lights flashed across Tommy’s eyes. Another blow came, this time harder, causing the tray used as a weapon to break in half, with one piece flying across the room, just missing another onlooker. This one hurt, and he became slightly dizzy. However, Tommy was getting tough, and he held his own, fighting the pain and ignoring as much as his body would allow. Pain is in the mind, he told himself.
Frustration increased inside Makka. He couldn’t handle not getting a reaction from Tommy. It angered him and he felt humiliated. It was Tommy’s way of making a fool out of him and making him look stupid. He upped his antics to the next level. He grabbed Tommy by the back of his collar, throwing him to the ground.
Tommy banged his head again. He felt it split open, and this was followed by a prison-issue trainer stamping down hard on his face. Tommy couldn’t take this. The pain of his nose dislodging once again made him weak and he screamed out in pain.
Within seconds, Tommy found a little strength, with no idea of where it had come from. He managed to stand with a wobble, steadying himself against the table. Blood poured from his nose, and he had a strong taste of metal in his mouth. Guards came forward to assist him, and Makka was escorted out after the guards had put him on the ground and restrained him.
Once again, Tommy had ended up back in the medical centre being treated for his injuries; two black eyes and blue tape across the bridge of his nose. Tommy looked an absolute state.
Still with a cell to himself, he sat on the top bunk and read a book, which had now become his favourite pastime. He would read for hours on end. It was his escapism from the harsh realities of his way of life. Tommy knew deep down there would be light at the end of the tunnel for him one day. He finally had hope. Valentina had given him hope.
The following day, a guard presented himself outside Tommy’s cell.
‘McGregor, there’s a detective here to see you. Up!’
Tommy didn’t say anything, but just climbed off the bunk, waiting for the guard to open the door to his cell. He was marched through the prison, through various security doors and across a yard to the visitors’ unit, where he was greeted by Valentina.
‘Tommy, how are you today?’ Valentina asked.
He still looked grey and even more roughed up than before, with black eyes being the primary focus on his face.
‘Okay,’ he replied, refusing to make any eye contact.
‘What happened to your face?’
‘Fell over.’
Valentina was not stupid. She knew he’d been fighting or had been caught up in something, but she didn’t push him, allowing him comfort.
‘Shall we?’ Valentina asked, pointing to the worn down, scruffy interview room.
Just a nod was all Tommy was able to muster. He was dubious about her intentions.
The room smelt of damp, as thought it had been cleaned with a dirty mop. Tommy slouched in his chair, oozing discomfort.
‘Come on, Tommy! Sit up, please,’ suggested Valentina.
He responded by shifting to an upright position in his chair.
He’s acting like a kid! Valentina thought to herself. She wanted to shake him.
‘More promises today?’ Tommy’s tone was sarcastic; a defence mechanism, not wanting to open up.
‘Look, I wouldn’t come here to give you false promises, Tommy. I’m here to let you know that we now have strong evidence that supports your case.’
‘So, what is this evidence?’ Tommy asked intrigued.
‘That, I’m afraid, I can’t tell you.’
‘You said that last time. Can’t you give me anything? Nothing makes sense at all. I can’t explain anything that happened to you, so I don’t see how anything would make sense to you either, this is all so confusing?’ he mumbled.
‘Trust me, Tommy. Things are going to change for you soon enough. You need to keep your nose clean whilst in here, okay?’ Valentina advised.
‘Don’t make out I’m some sort of troublemaker! The idiots come to me. I’m the one who has to take the shit from them!’ Tommy paused for a second. ‘I mind my own.’
‘Look!’ Valentina snapped with a tone of tough love, ‘Stay out of trouble! The cleaner you are in here, the more support it will give your case. If there are numerous reports of you fighting - sorry, I mean violence, then it could go against you.’
Tommy placed both palms flat on the table.
‘What if what you’re saying is true, and I’ve gone through all this, and I’m proven innocent? Where does that leave me?’ He then sat back, waiting for the answer.
‘You become a free man, get your life back! Isn’t that what you want?’
‘What, free to walk the streets? Once tarnished as a murderer, that shit sticks! No one will want to know me, let alone employ me! My life is fucked either way!’
Valentina retorted abruptly to his negative response.
‘Look Tommy, I’m trying to help you. I could walk away from this if I wanted to and leave your sorry arse to rot. You won’t get the chance to have your life back then. You’ll never leave these walls until you die.’ She gritted her teeth and leaned forward over the desk towards him. ‘Do you understand what I’m saying?’ Her face was angry.
This gave Tommy a little clarity, with the realisation that he’d offended her efforts t
o help – Under what motive though? He decided to take a different angle, back-tracking a little.
‘Sorry DI, what I meant was, would I be compensated for all this; the fact that my entire life has been chewed up and spat out? I was happy once, until all this started. I even tried to kill myself!’ He pulled down his collar, revealing the marks around his neck that were still fairly apparent.
‘I heard, Tommy,’ said Valentina sympathetically. ‘You need to stay strong. Also, to answer your question, yes, there would be a form of compensation.’
Tommy, still not fully trusting Valentina, despite her efforts, couldn’t help but think, There must be more behind this?
Valentina looked at him intensely.
‘Tommy, let me work on getting you out. Just stay out of trouble, okay?’ She stood and left the room without even a goodbye, offended with his I-don’t-trust-you attitude.
Back in her car, Valentina sat for a moment before starting the engine. Why challenge freedom? She questioned Tommy’s actions. Something’s not right. And to bring up money! Yeah, okay, that’s understandable to a certain extent, but surely freedom is far more precious than any amount of money?
‘Yes boss?’ Roberts answered Valentina’s call promptly.
‘How did the arrest go?’ asked Valentina.
‘He fought like hell. I’m glad I had a uniform officer supporting me. The little prick bit my arm, and I had to go for a tetanus.’ Roberts could hear Valentina smiling, trying not to laugh. ‘I know you’re laughing, boss! It bloody hurt! He was lucky there was a crowd, as I would have got a cheeky foot in otherwise!’
Valentina managed to compose herself before responding.
‘Okay, so what do we have on him so far?’
‘Not enough to charge him, boss. But, I have a gut feeling he’s the one we are looking for. We only have ten hours left before we have to release him though.’
‘Okay, it’s a long shot, but we need to get Emily to identify him,’ said Valentina.
‘She’s still in hospital. I doubt that they would allow her to come down to the station for that, not in her condition.’
‘Still worth asking. What about her neighbour, what was his name again?’ Valentina searched her memory.
‘Ah, yes, Jon Harrington. I’ll see what I can do. It’d be a good idea to have Mr Harrington ID Styles. We might have enough to charge Styles then.’
‘Well done! I’m going to be offline for a bit, so drop me a text and I’ll call you later.’ Valentina sounded a little off balance.
‘All okay, boss?’ Roberts sensed something was not quite right.
‘Of course, just a few chores.’ She quickly hung up, avoiding any other questions.
Roberts had arranged a video identification, where moving images of Styles and eight other men of a similar appearance were shown to Harrington.
Harrington was very cooperative with Roberts and his team. He was keen to help find Emily’s attacker. He’d known her for some time and felt emotionally involved. He sat at the screen and watched it with great concentration. Roberts watched Harrington closely. He looked like a gambler on the roulette wheel, waiting for the outcome and praying for a win!
It took a few viewings before Harrington raised his hand to signal he was now finished. Roberts was on top of Harrington almost immediately, eager to hear the verdict.
‘None,’ said Harrington.
‘Are you sure?’ Roberts asked. It was important that Harrington was 100% on his decision. ‘Okay, thank you for your time, Mr Harrington. PC Butler here will take you through to sign out. I will be in touch with you shortly. Do you still have my card?’
‘I do. It’s on my fridge. I hope you get to the bottom of this, I really hope you do!’
They shook hands firmly. Roberts could see in Harrington’s eyes that this incident with Emily had hit him hard.
‘She was a lovely girl, you know,’ Harrington said.
‘She still is, Mr Harrington.’ They released hands, and PC Butler escorted Harrington out to the reception area, signing him out, then he was on his way.
Roberts shut the office door and sat gazing, almost day dreaming, as his computer loaded up. Whilst waiting, he sorted himself out with a cup of strong coffee – much needed.
Valentina allowed the rain to fall on her. She had no raincoat or umbrella. She just stood there looking down. The graveyard of Western Cemetery was deserted. Crows could be heard in the trees, and there was a squirrel in the distance minding his own business. Valentina’s eyes filled with tears as she read the headstone of her mother’s grave.
‘I lost you twenty years ago today. My life has never been the same without you in it. Thank you for watching over me and protecting me when I have needed you. Thank you for listening to my prayers. I hope you are still as happy as I remember you - always laughing and joking. You were such a good mum to me, and not a day goes by where I don’t think about you. You are and always will be my beautiful mother.’
Twenty-five minutes had gone by, and the silence was broken by her mobile. She checked the screen, and seeing that it was Roberts, she didn’t hesitate to answer.
‘Roberts?’ Valentina’s voice sounded broken, but Roberts looked past that.
‘Couldn’t get the ID on him, boss.’ His voice sounded deflated.
‘If it’s him, we’ll get him another way. If it’s not, at least we won’t have another McGregor case to deal with,’ Valentina offered.
‘I know, boss. I just think Harrington didn’t see enough of him on the day to get a positive ID.’
‘Well, I’ll be back shortly.’ She hung up, kissed her hand and placed it on her mum’s grave. ‘I love you, Mum.’
18
Breathlessness took over Tammy as she stood outside Davidson’s office, hesitating before knocking, in anticipation of the outcome of the conversation she was about to have with him. After a minute or so of looking conspicuous by the way she was hanging around, hopping from foot to foot, like a child outside the headmaster’s office, she eventually knocked on the door.
‘Who is it?’ Davidson’s tone was abrupt, making it clear that this wasn’t a good time, but it was important and she had to tell him.
‘It’s Tammy, Russell,’ she said as she slowly opened the door in a sheepish manner, poking her head through.
‘Tammy, what is it? I’m up against it at the moment with the new launch. You of all people should know that.’
‘Sorry, Russell. It’s just that I’ve got some more information on Tommy McGregor.’
‘Don’t tell me you’re still messing around with that? We’ve got too much on Tammy. I pay you to work for me, not the South Wales Police. If you want to be a detective, then please feel free to make your way over the Severn Bridge. I’ve not got time for this.’ He waved her off, as though she was a peasant working for a king.
‘But, sir,’ Tammy said, diverting from first-name terms, ‘you’re going to want to hear this.’
‘Tammy, I’m not going to tell you again! Do the job I pay you for! Now leave! We have the launch, and I need you onboard and your head in the game.’
‘Okay sir,’ Tammy backed down, again avoiding using his first name - but he didn’t notice.
The information she had could potentially damage the entire company’s reputation, let alone the launch.
Back in Valentina’s office, the silence was broken by the sound of her phone ringing.
‘DI, you need to get here fast! I’ll text you the address,’ explained a frantic Roberts.
‘What is it?’
‘Please, just get here, boss!’ Roberts hung up the phone, and Valentina grabbed her keys and bag, heading towards her car whilst waiting for the text message with the address.
Valentina was on scene within twenty minutes. The press were hovering around like gulls waiting for scraps. The apartment block was secured, with Scenes of Crime Operatives already present. Access to the block was strictly for authorised personnel only. Valentina was required to put on
a form of protective wear and sign in before attending the scene.
BBC Wales Today Friday 9th March 2018
Latest Headline at 10:45: Presumed Murder down the Bay: An unidentified man has been found dead in his apartment on Lloyd George Avenue this morning.
The BBC has learned from a South Wales Police spokesperson that they are asking for witnesses to please come forward. Anyone who has any information should contact the South Wales Police incident room at once on 02920 101101.
‘So, Roberts, what do we have?’ Valentina asked as he greeted her outside the door to the apartment.
‘It’s not pretty, boss. It’s Andy Styles. As soon as I received the call for this area, I knew it would be him. Bit of a coincidence if you ask me. We have him pulled in for an ID parade, he gets released, and the next thing we know he’s dead.’
‘Assumed murdered?’ Valentina asked.
‘Oh, he’s been murdered alright,’ replied Roberts. ‘We’re trying to keep it low profile and away from the media for obvious reasons, boss.’
‘Good luck with that! The vultures are already pecking around for info. So, let’s see what’s happened to Mr Andy Styles.’
‘Here, boss.’ Roberts held out a small tub of Vicks Vaporub. ‘You’ll need this.’
‘Christ,’ she replied, dipping her index finger into the tub, then smearing a clump under her nose, causing her eyes to burn from the fumes.
There were two SOCO members working in the apartment, going through the area and looking for anything that could provide any clues as to what had happened.
‘Can you guys give me a minute, please?’ asked Valentina, and they both left.
There was a shower curtain across the bath. Smears of blood decorated the white floor tiles, proving that there had been a form of struggle. There was a sink in the corner, full to the brim with dark red blood. A black shadow rested in the centre of the red fluid. There’s something in there? Valentina thought to herself, but parked that notion for the moment, pulling across the blood-stained shower curtain.