‘And why didn’t you tell us this at the time?’
‘Well, I didn’t want to upset Mr and Mrs Shaw. They’ve been through so much.’
Kelly rolled her eyes inwardly.
‘I believe you drive a brand-new Hyundai. How blessed you are. Was it a gift?’
Mr Miles shuffled indignantly but kept his mouth shut.
‘Yes, from my dad.’ Luke was wary.
‘Ever take it up Whinlatter Pass? Or through the forest, perhaps?’ Using the information from Kurt Fletcher was a long shot, but anything was worth a go.
‘Sometimes. I go all over. It’s my car.’ He sounded like a toddler.
‘Has Faith Shaw ever been in your car? And be very careful how you answer this.’
‘I beg your pardon!’ Mr Miles interjected. ‘That sounds like a threat.’
‘Mr Miles, please. You’re merely here as an extra adult. Luke needs to answer the question. Unless you’ve forgotten, there’s a missing girl who we’re desperate to find. Someone’s daughter.’ Mr Miles looked at his feet and Kelly turned again to Luke.
‘Faith’s last-known whereabouts are crucial to us, and Justin Cain said that you all went for a drive in your car. Now, you can verify that or deny it – I don’t mind. Or you can waste my time and perjure yourself in court.’
Luke’s face went pale.
‘I took the girls for a ride.’
‘Luke!’
‘Mr Miles, this is the last time. I’ll have to have you removed. Your son can be chaperoned by another officer.’
‘Sorry.’ He turned to his son, pain etched on his face.
‘What time, and where?’ Kelly continued.
‘It was about nine. We went over the Whinlatter Pass and back.’
‘Who?’
‘Me, the two girls and Justin.’
‘For the record, you are stating that Faith Shaw was in your car when you left the fair at around 9 p.m.?’
‘Yes.’
‘Do you realise how important this is to our inquiry? It changes everything. Why did you withhold it?’
Luke’s father glared at his son, waiting.
‘We came back!’
‘What time?’
‘I don’t know.’
The boy in front of Kelly was poles apart from the one she’d visited at his home.
‘So when did she wander off to the toilet on her own? Before or after the drive? Or was there no Portaloo stop at all?’
Luke swallowed, and Kelly knew she had him on the ropes. He was floundering, but she didn’t need an answer, because she already knew that they were all lying about the toilet. She couldn’t help wondering what else they were lying about.
‘I can’t remember.’
‘Luke, you’re an intelligent boy, that much is obvious. How hard is it to comprehend that if I think you’re not giving me everything, that’s going to raise my suspicions? All I want to do is find Faith. We have a witness saying he saw two parked cars at Revelin Moss car park, and it’s likely that one of them was yours. Do you know Danny Stanton?’
He stared at her. Kelly stared back. Mr Miles looked between the two of them. He held up his hand as if in class, needing to ask an important question.
‘Mr Miles has requested to make a statement,’ Will said for the recording.
‘What is going to happen to my son? Are you charging him with a crime?’
‘At the moment, we’re looking for consistency. So far, none of the kids with Faith on Sunday evening have been straight with us. Luke was the driver of the car in question. We will investigate the importance of that and he may well be charged. At that point, he would be remanded in custody.’
‘Could I speak to him in private?’
Kelly nodded, and they turned off the tape. Video recording equipment monitored the room and they went to the screen to watch, leaving father and son to have the most important conversation of their lives. Kelly knew it wouldn’t be long before one of the teenagers broke their silence. Justin was a weak link, but in time, they’d all want to save their skins.
Chapter 33
Craig Lockwood walked along the back of the rides, navigating his way around electrical cables, bottles of oil, plastic chairs, cardboard boxes, bits of wood and litter. He’d watched Bobby go to the bar for the fourth or fifth time, and in all that time, he hadn’t done any work. Craig was having a hard time working out exactly what Bobby’s role was other than to loiter.
It didn’t take long for him to witness the first act of lewdness. He could tell that Bobby had had his eye on a young girl wearing a yellow coat for quite some time: he’d spotted her buying a stick of rock with her friends by the hall of mirrors and had followed them all the way down to the haunted house. The journey had taken the girls forty-six minutes, and Bobby had stopped every time they did, watching them covertly, then moving off when they did, never straying more than about fifteen feet away from them. It became obvious that his tried and tested method was to learn the habits of individuals and wait until they were alone; as the girl in the yellow coat was now. She must be around twelve years of age, Craig reckoned, and she was buying a drink while the others went on the magic carpet – she didn’t seem to want to participate on this particular ride.
Bobby made his move. He was next to her in a matter of seconds and chatting to her as she waited for her Coke. He pointed to somewhere in the distance and the girl nodded, then to Craig’s utter astonishment, she walked off with him and disappeared beyond the end of the drinks van. Craig sprinted after them, careful not to slip on the snow, looking round frantically for the yellow coat. When he finally spotted it, the pair were almost at the edge of the fair, close to where the dark replaced the lights. Craig shouted. The odd couple stopped and turned around. The girl was nonplussed, but Bobby dashed away. Craig went to her and breathlessly asked what she was doing.
‘That man said my friends told me to meet them.’
‘And you believed him?’
‘Shouldn’t I? Anyway, who are you?’
‘Police,’ he panted.
‘Police? Let me see your ID.’
‘My ID! You go off with a complete stranger and you ask to see my ID! Jesus! Look, here it is. What did he give you?’
‘Nothing.’
‘Bullshit, turn out your pockets.’
The girl rolled her eyes and brought out a clear bag containing what looked like tea leaves. Craig took it; he figured it was skunk.
‘That cost me ten quid!’
‘Piss off, and don’t do drugs!’
‘You’re letting me go?’
‘If you leave now.’
The girl had a local accent and wouldn’t be difficult to find if he needed her. Not with that coat. He walked away shaking his head. Bobby had disappeared. The guy was a pervert and a weirdo, but was he a criminal? Whether he was or not, he’d need to be cautioned.
Craig walked towards the back of a trailer. He turned the corner and searched behind it both ways, but saw found nothing.
‘Bobby!’ he shouted. Out of the corner of his eye he saw movement, and spotted Bobby running across the wasteland towards the sea. He rolled his eyes and gave chase for the second time in a night, dodging patches of ice. He regretted not keeping up his gym membership.
Craig wasn’t fast, but he was fitter than Bobby, who tired quickly. He caught up and stuck his leg out. Bobby fell with a thud and rolled over, ending up face down in the snow-covered grass, with the waves crashing on the beach just metres away.
‘Police,’ Craig announced. ‘Pleased to meet you, Bobby. Why were you running?’
‘’Cause you were fucking chasing me!’
‘What did you want with that very underage girl in the yellow coat?’
‘Nothing!’
‘Didn’t look that way to me. You gave her this.’ He held up the bag and Bobby rolled his eyes.
‘No I didn’t!’
‘Get up, Bobby.’
He got up.
‘I’ll be watc
hing you. I know about the family who dropped the charges. Stay away from little girls.’
‘I didn’t do nothing!’ Bobby marched away, back towards the fair, and disappeared among the trailers.
Craig followed him, hanging back a little. He moved under the open window of a caravan. The smell of weed wafted into the night air. He heard Bobby’s voice, but no other; he must be on the phone. He moved closer to the window and picked up the odd word – ‘money’, ‘kid’ and ‘gear’ – but that was all.
He called Kelly.
Chapter 34
Nedzad hung up the phone. There was a problem, and he wasn’t in the area to take care of it. He was in Manchester, eating Chinese food in his favourite restaurant. There were a couple of people he trusted to deal with these things, and he called one of them now. Bobby had ceased to be necessary and would have to go. No one got away with threatening Nedzad, and he’d heard the panic in the gypsy’s voice clearly. He wouldn’t be missed.
The man he was dining with spread his hands as if to say ‘What the hell was that all about?’
‘Bobby, whining again. I’m tired of it.’
His dinner partner agreed.
‘He’s scared of the police. It won’t do.’
The man opposite him raised his eyebrows.
‘It’s good to get out of Keswick, yes?’ Nedzad asked him.
‘You have no idea. Thank you.’
‘Not at all, it is my pleasure. You have to lie low for a while, I understand. You can help me here. How is the case progressing?’
‘Slowly. I’m confident that I can pull it off, though.’
‘You have been around for a long time, my friend. You were highly recommended to me and you’ve never let me down. These little men who simply cause problems are like gnats biting at your ankles in the middle of the night. Do you want me to take care of the girl?’
‘I think she’ll hang herself if she’s given enough rope. I’ve got a few ideas. My colleague – the one I told you about – has given a statement on my behalf. The girl is an unreliable witness and I can diminish her credibility.’
Nedzad smiled. He appreciated control and command, and his companion was holding his nerve. He liked that. He was a happy man tonight. His son slept soundly in his cot, and he’d even got a smile out of him. The poor child was clearly used to being passed around, but not any more. No one would separate them again.
‘I have to go to Europe. Do you want to come with me? There’s a lot of money involved.’
‘I can’t. I have to stay local because of the investigation.’
‘No one will know. You’re not tagged.’
‘It’s too risky.’
‘Are you going cold on me?’
‘The charges were completely unexpected and I don’t think you appreciate the atmosphere. Crime in the North Lakes is low. It’s not Sarajevo. If another girl goes missing who’s connected to the other one, it’ll raise suspicion.’
Nedzad smiled and forked some more dumplings onto his plate. They were delicious. ‘The girl could be distraught at the loss of her friend and wander off …’ He walked his fingers across the table and whistled. ‘Besides, I have business in the area too. The woman who first took my boy is investigating, yes? I still have business with her.’
‘Hold on there, she’s a police officer. You can’t harm a copper: that’s taken extremely seriously here.’
‘Who said I want to harm her? She has family. I know all about her. I’ve waited a long time for this.’
‘For God’s sake, will you at least wait until I know what’s going on with my case?’
‘Of course, my friend, for you I will do that. Let’s have a toast to the gypsy, God rest his soul. He found my boy, with your help, of course.’ They raised their glasses.
‘To Bobby. Sleep well.’
They chinked the glasses together and drank. It was an expensive bottle of Chablis that was on the menu for over ninety pounds, but Nedzad didn’t pay for his food and drink here.
‘When everything calms down, you can come and work for me here in the city. You must get very bored up there with all the lakes and sheep. Unless you like sheep? Which reminds me: I have a private room just for us at the Taurus Club tonight.’ Nedzad winked.
The Taurus Club was the smartest strip club in Manchester, and many a footballer had been caught with his pants down there. Unlike at cheaper joints, the girls were beautiful, and the punters got their money’s worth. Nedzad’s guest smiled broadly: he knew that when Nedzad was paying, it always included a private dance, followed by extras on top.
They ordered dessert.
There was no rush.
Chapter 35
Emma packed up her things and prepared to leave the school. Everybody else had gone, and the hall was quiet.
She’d spent an hour looking up the details of the two students who’d committed suicide in the last four years. One was a boy who’d been in Year 10; his was considered a case of drug abuse. The other, a Year 9 girl, was recorded as a case of domestic abuse. Sarah Peaks had said herself that neither incident had anything to do with the school, but Emma wondered.
A man who looked like some sort of caretaker came in and eyed her suspiciously. She smiled, and he softened his demeanour.
‘Hello there, I’m just finishing up.’
He nodded. ‘You been talking to the kids about the missing girl, then?’ he said.
‘Yes, we have. We’re doing everything we can to find her.’
‘I bet you are. I take my hat off to you lot. They don’t make it easy, these teenagers, do they? You got kids?’ He glanced briefly at her abdomen as if it would answer his question.
‘No. You?’
‘Three. They’re all here, all pretty sensible, thank God, not like some of ’em.’
‘Do you know Faith Shaw?’
‘Not really. Seems a nice enough girl, though.’
‘How long have you worked here?’
The man laughed and did a calculation in his head. ‘Twenty-two years.’
‘So you knew the two kids who took their own lives a few years back?’
‘I knew the boy, for sure. Same age as my lad. They were mates. They said it was drugs, but that was only the half of it.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘He was miserable as sin. Hounded, he was. Picked on till he could take no more.’
‘In school?’
‘Of course in school. I was just glad it wasn’t my kid; we all were.’
‘Why wasn’t it reported at the time?’
‘He didn’t tell. They call ’em gay, you know. If they snitch. They’ll take anything, they will. I’ve told my lads that if anyone ever gets at ’em, they can punch back, just make sure it’s harder.’
‘So you didn’t know the girl so much? The one they said was a domestic case?’
‘Her dad hit her, that’s for sure, but some violence you can’t see, can you?’
‘No, you’re right. Did anyone come and question their school pals or teachers at the time?’
‘I can’t remember. The head was keen to play it down, that’s for sure. My lads weren’t asked anything about it. Sometimes the kids who have problems get forgotten, don’t they? They’re not missed, if you know what I mean. One was into that stuff he smoked, and the other hardly turned up. If it had been a governor’s son or a Little Miss Perfect getting A’s in everything, people might have taken notice, that’s all.’
Emma thought about Jenna Fraser. She’d been a model student, a fine athlete, and as clean as a whistle until she’d taken her first pill.
‘You think this one’s done herself in?’ the man asked.
‘Do you?’
‘Probably,’ he said.
Emma carried on packing her things, deep in thought. ‘Your boy who was in Year 10 when his friend killed himself, would he talk to me?’
‘Don’t see why not. He’ll be here any minute. He sits in here till I’ve finished for the day. He don’t like
me walking home, so he drives me.’
It was touching.
The head teacher entered the hall. ‘Are we done?’ she asked.
‘There’s only you left, if now is a good time?’ Emma smiled at her.
‘I’ve already given a statement.’
‘Not to me.’
‘What do you need to know?’
‘Will you take a seat?’
‘No, I’m fine standing.’
‘In your opinion, was Faith Shaw suicidal?’
‘I’ve already answered this. No, she was the absolute opposite. Bubbly, happy, communicative, inclusive; a model student.’
‘Have you read any of her English work?’
‘If you’re referring to the usual teenage angst about boyfriends, loneliness and pop stars, then I’ve got news for you: that’s what they’re all like.’ The woman was condescending.
‘What is actively done in this school for the mental health of your students?’
‘Oh, the messages are very clear: we support one another as a community, we promote compassion and we will not tolerate inconsiderate behaviour; everybody is invested in as a whole child.’ It was like a well-rehearsed speech for Ofsted.
‘But what about the ones who don’t feel included?’
‘There aren’t any.’
‘I did notice that you have no bullying incidents logged in your policy documents. That’s quite a record.’
‘I know, we’re very proud.’
‘Isn’t it rather unrealistic?’
‘Perhaps you’re referring to low-level behavioural issues. They don’t count as full-blown bullying. There is a real difference, you know.’
‘Ah. Can you explain?’
‘Well I should have thought it was fairly obvious. We would log incidents of a violent, repetitive nature, for example.’
‘Only if there is a complaint?’
‘Of course.’
‘And you receive none?’
‘A lot of petty squabbles are dealt with on the spot. It’s rarely what you would consider bullying. You need to be very clear about the difference; that’s why we have expert training on the subject.’
‘How often?’
‘I beg your pardon?’
‘Your expert training – how often, and who is involved?’
Bitter Edge Page 15