by Anita Waller
‘We need to get your parents in.’
‘What?’
‘Now, show me where this body is. I’ll get a couple of our lads to go with us.’
He was praying the kids left on guard, allegedly, hadn’t contaminated the site too much. He was also praying it was some sort of shop dummy, even though the young black lad had said he knew him.
Roberts stood. He looked around the main office. ‘Brian, Dan, I need you to come with me. We seem to have a dead body.’
They picked up their jackets and followed their boss and the two young lads out of the door.
‘Shall we get a pool car, sir?’ DC Brian Balding asked.
‘No, we’re walking.’
They followed him around the building and across the small service road.
‘Right, lads, take the lead. We’ll follow you. Show us this body.’
Daryl and Sammy looked at each other, then walked the short journey through the woods that led them to where the others were waiting. Daryl and Sammy joined them and then pointed to the body, lying some twelve feet away from them.
‘Bloody ’ell,’ Roberts said. ‘I thought they were mistaken.’
‘Right, Balding, take these children back to the station, give them a drink and get their parents in. They must have had a hell of a shock.’
Balding nodded, and the children, thoroughly scared because of the change in Roberts, followed him back the same way Daryl and Sammy had walked.
Roberts took out his phone, and within five minutes, the area was sealed, blue and white police tape fluttering in the soft summer breeze.
Balding took the six children through the door at the back of reception and to a room that boasted a couple of settees and some comfy chairs. He told them to sit down, and he would have some drinks sent in.
‘Cokes okay?’ he asked, and they nodded mutely. They had heard the instruction to bring their parents in, and nobody much fancied that.
Balding, along with a female police officer who told them to call her Angela, brought in the drinks and then sat down with them.
‘Right,’ he said. ‘I need all your names and addresses, and don’t worry, your parents will be here shortly. There’s nothing to be frightened about.’
He wrote quickly as each one in turn admitted to having an address, and the dreaded parents that went with those addresses.
‘What were you doing in the woods?’
‘Climbing trees, playing hide and seek… we play there a lot ’cos it’s a safe place to play. Our parents know we go there,’ Daryl said, not hiding his irritation. He was starting to feel like a criminal with the threat of his mum hanging over him. ‘We’ve done nothing wrong, you know.’
The others followed his lead of non-cooperation and sat and drank their cokes, waiting to see what would happen next.
And what did happen next was that assorted parents descended on the police station, demanding to see their children. Mark, Dom and Freya all stood as John and Sally Brownlow entered the room. Freya ran to them and hugged her mother. Dom and Mark were a little warier. They weren’t sure yet if they were in any trouble.
Sally enfolded all three of them in her arms. ‘Hey, don’t look so scared. You’re not in trouble. I’m so pleased you had the common sense to tell the police and not run away.’
They breathed a collective sigh of relief. Was it possible they’d got away with everything?
Cissie Johnston and Janey Walker had arrived in reception at the same time, and Cissie was in tears as she pulled Ella tightly to her.
Janey Walker looked at Sammy and smiled, and his world was okay again. It was only when Carl and Megan Clarkson arrived to be with Daryl that things turned a little sour.
‘Daryl,’ his father demanded, ‘what the fuck have you been doing? I told you no police on my doorstep and—’
‘That’s enough, Carl,’ John Brownlow interrupted. ‘The kids have had a shock. They found a body, and they’re always going to remember that. Don’t make it worse for any of them, not only Daryl. They were good kids to report it.’
Megan Clarkson walked across to her son and hugged him. ‘Take no notice of your dickhead father. I’m proud of what you’ve done.’ She turned to her husband. ‘And it’s our house, not your house.’
Angela stepped forward. ‘No arguing, please. These children don’t need that. Can I ask you, now that you all have a responsible adult,’ she looked pointedly at Carl Clarkson, ‘to tell me what happened today?’
Daryl looked at the others. ‘Shall I tell, and if I miss anything out, you jump in?’
They nodded.
‘Okay. We played croquet this morning at the twins’ house, and their mum did us some lunch. We cleared everything away, then we went down to have a muck-about in the woods, you know, climbing trees, hide and seek and stuff. We climbed trees first and then played hide and seek. That was when Freya blew her whistle. She was doing the seeking, and she came across the body. We heard her scream and then her whistle.’
‘Do you all have a whistle?’
Daryl nodded. ‘They’re always round our necks, and we all have our own call on it.’
‘Really?’ Angela looked impressed. ‘Show me.’
They all looked to Mark, and he nodded and pulled up his whistle from beneath his T-shirt. He played his call sign, and one by one, the others followed.
Their parents were clearly astounded. These kids had each other’s backs, to a major extent. And they hadn’t known.
‘And then what happened?’ Angela prompted.
‘We came out from our hiding places and ran to where we could hear the whistle. Freya was being sick. Sammy went to help her, and we looked at the body. Sammy knew who he was, he lives near Vinnie Walmsley.’
‘Vinnie Walmsley?’ Janey Walker looked shocked. ‘Aileen Walmsley’s lad? Oh my God, she’ll be devastated.’
‘Sammy?’
‘Yeah,’ Sammy mumbled. ‘He’s a bad ‘un. I seen him selling his drugs. He didn’t deserve to die, though.’
‘Anyway,’ Daryl continued, ‘we decided to leave Mark, Dom, Freya and Ella with the body, but not too near it, and me and Sammy came here. And that’s it.’
‘You didn’t touch the body?’ Angela pushed them again.
Mark jumped in with the answer. ‘Not bloody likely. We di’n’t even stand near it. It looked like his fingers had been eaten.’
Angela looked at the parents. ‘We can arrange counselling for the children, if you feel it’s necessary.’
‘I think I need bloody counselling,’ Carl Clarkson muttered, ‘never mind the kids.’
‘Do all of you know Vinnie Walmsley?’
The children looked at each other.
‘We know about him,’ Mark eventually admitted. ‘He has drugs. Everybody knows that.’
‘He scared me,’ Sammy blurted out. ‘Threatened to kill me if I said owt, ’cos I saw him handing drugs over and taking money.’
‘When was this, Sammy?’ Angela spoke gently to the scared child.
‘About four weeks ago. I was on my own. I live a bit higher up the estate than the others, so I’m always on me own, after we go home.’
‘I see,’ she said. ‘And did you know who was buying his drugs?’
Sammy shook his head. ‘No, miss. I di’n’t.’
‘Okay. Now, I’m going to organise cups of tea for the adults – are you kids all okay, or do you need another drink?’
They all said they were fine, so Angela took orders for what the parents wanted and left the room to organise it.
With Angela’s departure, the parents spoke at once, until Mark shouted, ‘Will you lot listen to yerselves? It’s about us, you know, not you. In fact, it’s nowt to do wi’ you. We found the body, and you’re only here ’cos we’re still young. So, give us a break, will yer?’
There was a shocked silence.
‘Cocky little kid, aren’t you?’ Carl Clarkson said. He turned to his wife. ‘Did you know our Daryl was mixing with the likes o
f these?’
‘Oh, shut up, Carl,’ Megan said. ‘These kids have obviously got something special. Didn’t you see that with the whistles? If I whistled, would you come running? No, I thought not. So, leave them alone. They did exactly the right thing. They haven’t done anything wrong, and I bet it’s going to be weeks before they get a decent night’s sleep. You, on the other hand, won’t get any sleep at all if you suddenly find yourself homeless and out walking the streets every night.’
Carl’s mouth closed with an audible snap, and Daryl grinned. One nil to his mum.
Sammy, however, burst into tears, and the other five looked at him in horror. Was he going to tell the real story?
He hiccoughed and turned to his mum. ‘Can we go home? I don’t like him,’ and he pointed at Carl.
Megan knelt and spoke to Sammy. ‘Don’t worry about him, sweetheart. Nobody else likes him, either. I won’t let him bully you. You answer their questions, be honest, and we can all be going home in half an hour.’
Sammy looked up at his mum. Janey Walker smiled at him. ‘You listen to Daryl’s mum, Sammy. She’s right. And I won’t let anybody get to you, either. Now drink your cokes, and let’s sit down and calm down. Carl, any more of that behaviour, and I’ll punch you.’
Janey Walker: one, Carl Clarkson: nil. He wasn’t having a good day.
Angela returned and detected a strained atmosphere. She handed out the teas and coffees, and then sat down and asked the children to come and sit by her.
‘I want to double-check everything you’ve told me, and when we’ve all calmed down, your parents can take you home.’
She read through her notes, and the children nodded. ‘You’ve nothing to add to this?’
Daryl looked around at them. ‘I don’t think so. We were together, so nobody saw anything the others didn’t. And really, there was nothing there. It was a body. We didn’t see anybody kill him, we found him dead.’
‘And you play in the woods every day?’
They nodded.
‘You were there yesterday?’
Again, they nodded.
‘You see, that’s the strange bit. I’ve spoken to DI Roberts, and the forensic people seem to think he’s been there some time. Certainly since the day before. You didn’t see anything suspicious?’
‘No,’ Dom said. ‘We would have done the same yesterday that we’ve done today, if we’d spotted a body. You’re talking daft.’
‘Dom,’ his mother warned. ‘No back-chatting, please. I can fill in on a little bit of what they’ve done today. They went out to play this morning and then, mid-morning, came back to ours. They set up the croquet, I went to Asda and bought food for them, then came back and did some lunch. It was after that they went down to the woods again, and here we are. If these kids had seen that body at any other time, there’s no way they would have been laughing and giggling, playing croquet.’
Angela looked at them. ‘Right, I’m going to let you go home now, but I’m sure the DI will want to talk to you. We’ve got your addresses, so we’ll be in touch. And, kids, I’m so sorry you had to go through this. Try not to dwell on it too much and stay together. You’re a good crowd; you’ve got each other’s backs. Stay away from those woods for a bit. It’s a crime scene, anyway, but do as I ask. Stay away even when the tape’s been taken down. Understood?’
They nodded or said yes and, ten minutes later, were on their travels back to their various homes, under strict instructions not to speak to anyone for at least two hours about what had happened. Aileen Walmsley still had to be told her son was dead.
With the removal of the body, it was clear that the indentation that had cradled Vinnie Walmsley’s head was, in fact, a hole. A hole that had been excavated. It could have held drugs, it could have held money, but the bottom line was, it had probably held something illegal.
Roberts pursed his lips and emitted a low whistle. This wasn’t good, a possible drugs murder on his patch. The body had now been taken away for the pathologist to do his job, and the DI knew he now had to go see the lad’s mother.
Aileen wasn’t reading. She couldn’t concentrate; until Vinnie came home, her mind wouldn’t settle. She heard the knock on the door and didn’t want to answer it.
Sometimes, you just knew things were going wrong.
‘Mrs Walmsley? DI Roberts, and this is DC Shaw.’ They showed their warrant cards. ‘May we come in, please?’
She stared at them. ‘It’s Vinnie, isn’t it? They said he wasn’t under arrest…’
‘He’s not under arrest, Mrs Walmsley. Can we come in, please? We need to speak with you.’
She opened the door wider, and they passed by her. ‘To the right,’ she said, her voice dulled by fear.
They sat, and Roberts spoke. ‘I’m sorry, Mrs Walmsley, but I have to tell you a body has been found in the woods at the side of the police station, and we believe it to be your son. Although we’re not sure of time of death yet, we believe he died yesterday, but was only found today, by some children. Do you know why he would be in those woods, Mrs Walmsley?’
She stared around her wildly, as if looking for a means of escape. ‘No-o-o,’ she moaned. ‘Not my Vinnie.’
There was silence for a few seconds, and Heather Shaw spoke. Her soft voice was exactly what was needed. ‘Tell me where the kitchen is, Mrs Walmsley. I think we all could use a cup of tea.’
Aileen Walmsley pointed with her hand, and Heather left the room. She could hear the sobs coming from Aileen and knew they would get nothing helpful from her today. She poured the hot water into the teapot and glanced up at the kitchen window.
A young man was peering through, his hands shielding his eyes as he tried to see if anyone was in the kitchen. She moved to open the door, and he jumped, startled to see her.
‘Can I help?’
‘Oh, sorry,’ Liam said. ‘I’ve been out looking for Vinnie, and I thought I’d call and see if he’s turned up yet. It’s not like him to miss his meals, so I’ve had a good scout around for him. Not found him, though.’
‘And your name is?’
‘Liam, Liam Blake. Aileen asked me to go out and look for him…’
The significance of a police presence at Aileen’s slowly dawned on him.
‘What’s wrong? What’s he done?’
‘Mr Blake, I think you’d better come into the lounge. I’ll bring you a cup of tea through. We have something to tell you, and I think Mrs Walmsley might need a friend.’
Chapter 5
Nicolas Grausohn was angry. He had a small-time drug dealer dead, a knife-wielding tramp who had gone beyond the call of duty by killing the small-time drug dealer before he could question him, and a missing haul of drugs.
The fact that Johanna Fleischer was good in bed was irrelevant now; the way he was feeling, he could kill her rather than fuck her. He removed his glasses and ran his fingers through his hair, now so grey, it showed no evidence of the black it had been in his early years. His huge bulk filled his chair, and it creaked loudly as he leaned forward to stare at her.
‘Look,’ she said, attempting to placate him, ‘he knew nothing. He was shocked – and frightened – to see that empty hiding place.’
‘Then, who has got my goods? I suggest, Johanna, you find out, and find out quickly. Sehr schnell.’
She stared at him. He never reverted to their native German, insisting that they must be as English as the English, if they were to take over the supply of drugs to South Yorkshire and, in time, beyond that.
She turned and walked out of the room, closing the door with a slam. ‘Fuck you,’ she muttered, ‘and that’s in English.’
The slam of the door, combined with an exit when he hadn’t dismissed her, was the final straw. Grausohn looked at Tommy Raines and simply nodded.
Tommy left the penthouse only seconds behind Johanna and reached the private lift as the doors were closing; his extended arm stopped the closure.
‘Tommy,’ she acknowledged, as he stepped in with h
er. He pressed the button for the minus one level and, in the same fluid movement, swung his arm around, connecting with her chin with a loud crack. She dropped to the floor instantly, and he bent over her, pressing his thumbs against her throat. By the time the lift arrived in the basement, she was dead.
She felt like a feather in comparison to others he had terminated, and he wedged the lift door in the open position with her body. The basement contained a row of large wheeled containers for waste disposal, and he found an empty one. He returned to her and quickly lifted her top, exposing her breasts. He fondled them and kissed them before dropping his hands lower, removing her panties. This part of the job he enjoyed.
He dropped his trousers, and twenty seconds later, it was over. He’d waited months to screw her.
Common sense finally prevailed; he was in a garbage disposal room used by tenants. Tommy picked her up, had one last touch and dropped her, and her panties, into the empty container.
He activated his walkie-talkie, speaking first to Grausohn. ‘It’s done. I need Kenny down in the basement.’
‘I’ll send him now.’
A minute later, the two men moved across to a half full refuse container. They wheeled it across to the one containing Johanna’s body, and Kenny took out his phone and took a photo of her in the bottom of the bin. He knew Grausohn would want confirmation of her death.
Their huge muscles strained, and they picked up the half full bin, transferring the contents into the one containing Johanna. They repeated it with a second one and then closed the lid.
‘Let’s stick it near the outside door, furthest away from the lifts,’ Tommy said.
They wheeled it across and put the two empty ones back in line. Tommy rubbed his hands together. ‘Job done,’ he said.
‘Yeah,’ Kenny agreed. ‘Let’s hope he’s not changed his mind.’
They ambled across to the lift as the bell pinged, signalling the general lift that serviced the other flats arriving in the basement. Moving quickly, they entered the penthouse lift, rising rapidly back for the next lot of instructions.