by D. E. White
“But that night, I was at the beach,” Dove said, feeling her healed ribs twinge at the memory.
“Leo had just beat up the man and I’d thrown his stuff in the van. My job then was to be lookout while Leo finished taking watches or whatever. They almost all put up a fight, which is crazy when you look at Leo. I would have just given up the valuables if it was me.”
“So you were lookout and saw me coming up the beach.”
“I didn’t know until I saw your face later that it was you, I swear, but I told Leo there was someone coming.” She pulled a face. “He was in a crazy mood and just kept hitting the man, even though we had the stuff. I never hit anyone.”
“Except me,” Dove pointed out.
“I honestly didn’t mean to hit you. I was still high and just threw the rock in between both of you to try and break up the fight.”
Dove sensed she was lying, but she didn’t care. They had enough. Leo would go down, and Abi would be able to take steps to rebuild her own life away from an abusive partner.
“What about Neil Ockley?”
She winced and wrapped her arms around her body, shivering. “It was horrible. I went in to meet him, and he kept trying to kiss me. Leo was already in there, hiding in the opposite cubicle along. I knew he was watching everything, and I was waiting for him to come out . . . But he kept leaving it later and later, letting me struggle with keeping the men interested, and stopping short of like actually having sex with them.” A flash of anger made Abi sit up straighter. “He was enjoying it wasn’t he?”
“Probably,” Dove commented.
“The man didn’t try and fight, but Leo hit him anyway. He, the man, swung the bottle, and it broke against the wall, but his arm kept on swinging. Instead of hitting Leo, he cut himself, here.” She indicated on her own neck.
“He cut himself?” Dove checked.
“It was an accident. He just swung and it happened. It was just crazy. I think Leo was high that night. I screamed at him to stop, but he hit me too. Then suddenly, the man wasn’t moving, just crouched there bleeding everywhere, all surprised. His hand against his neck to try and stop the blood, but it went in an arc right up to the ceiling. It missed us, but later I found I had some fine spray on my top . . . That’s when Leo took his suit jacket hanging from the door because he said we could get some cash for that too, then said we got what we wanted and we had to get out of there.”
“So you left him to die?” Dove said shortly.
“We didn’t mean to! Well, I didn’t, anyway. He was still breathing when we left him and staggering around, I swear he was!”
“Did you see a bag in the corner of the cubicle?” Dove asked, estimating how long the man would have taken to bleed out — seconds rather than minutes, which meant it was rather unlikely the victim had been alive when Abi and Leo left the building.
“Yeah, a white one. Leo took a quick look before we left, but he said it was just some shitty clothes and a make-up bag, nothing of any value. Why?”
That explained why Dionne’s bag had still been in situ when Dove had discovered the body, she thought. Perhaps the mobile phone had been in a hidden pocket. If Leo was high, and the bag was covered in blood, he wouldn’t have wanted to hang around. “Why didn’t you make an anonymous call to the ambulance service?”
“I wanted to,” Abi whispered. “But I couldn’t do it right away because Leo took me off in the car, drove for miles, kept putting his foot down. He was wired and crazy, and he wouldn’t let me out. Finally, we drove back into town and he shoved me out next to the kebab place on Reever Street. That was when I was going to make the call, but my phone was out of charge . . . It was too late by then, wasn’t it?”
“Yes, far too late,” Dove said.
“When he did Gaia I was going to tell you, honestly, and get out. This was different to what he’d been doing, and we knew Gaia. She was always good to us, but he hit her really hard and enjoyed it.” Abi shivered. “He’s really evil sometimes, but then he changes back to being so nice and saying he’s sorry for everything. I didn’t know what to do. I’m an idiot, aren’t I?”
“No,” Dove said. “You got sucked into a situation and couldn’t find a way out. It’s what you do from now on that matters the most.”
“Will I go to prison?”
Dove frowned. “That will depend on the CPS, but as you were forced into being an accessory, and the only time you hurt someone was when you chucked a rock at my head, you should be okay. This isn’t my case, so I really can’t say anything for sure.”
“Leo will, though, won’t he?”
“Yes.”
“If he’s inside, he won’t be able to hurt anyone,” she said softly. “But what about when he comes out?”
“Abi, I really don’t think you realise how serious the charges are — multiple assaults, robbery, the list goes on and on. Leo Caper is going down for a long time,” Dove told her. “There is help available for you, you just need to be willing to take it.”
“Delta told me to get rid of him,” Abi said, as they finally left the interview room. “She stood up to him too, told him to get lost, and he didn’t like that at all. The night she left the first time around, to stay at yours, she’d had a row with Leo the night before and he slapped her face. She slapped him back, and he was so shocked, but she said at work she was going to stay with you for a bit, until I sorted my head out.”
“And Leo heard that.” She hadn’t been losing it after all. Leo had been trying to make sure she knew someone was in the shadows, waiting, but not daring to make himself known, instead content with scaring a couple of teenage girls.
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
Having got home at five that morning, rung DI Blackman and explained she was going to grab an hour of sleep and a shower, Dove sank gratefully into bed. She woke two hours later, and started to get ready for work, texting Steve to ask what was happening. The case was pretty much wrapped up now, with Caz’s confession in the bag.
Delta and Quinn were downstairs, drinking coffee and watching a travel piece on the news. Delta made no mention of the night’s events, but went straight in with, “Hey, Dove, check out this travelogue. It’s Japan, so cool! I might add it to my list.”
Dove rubbed her eyes and stared at the chirpy reporter pointing at the iconic Tokyo skyline. It took a while to focus, and she was struggling with waves of tiredness, which were making her movements clumsy and uncoordinated. “So you know exactly where you’re going, then?”
“Yeah.” The girl smiled confidently. “Quinn said I should think about what I want to do, make some choices, rather than dwell on what happened with Abi and Leo.”
Quinn looked slightly uncomfortable as Dove raised an eyebrow at him. “You know what she’s like, and now she wants to go travelling next month.”
“Hello? I am still in the room,” Delta told him. “And before you start about me going on my own, I might not be exactly on my own.”
Dove made a mug of coffee, bringing it to her nose, inhaling the fragrance. “Surely not with Abi?”
“Hell no. She wouldn’t get a visa with her criminal record anyway. But more than that, she was a flaky friend and she hooked up with Leo without telling me. It’s a trust thing. If you’re travelling round the world you need someone you can trust . . .” Her cheeks coloured slightly and she tossed her hair out of her face.
The new style suited her, Dove thought, emphasising her blue eyes and Ren’s perfect forties bow lips. “I meant to say last night — but there was quite a lot going on — I like your new hair. When did you get it done?”
“After work. Kelly’s a hairdresser in the daytime, dancer at night. She does everyone, so I stayed on last night and we used the changing room as a hair salon.” Delta smoothed her fringe. She looked older, but in a good way. “That was before Abi phoned and I decided to go back to the flat and collect some more of my stuff . . .”
Dove grinned at her niece. “Well going back to the subject of trusting who y
ou travel with, I don’t suppose Bollo, your rather gorgeous boyfriend, will blow you out for a pimp.”
“How did you know?” Delta demanded, glass halfway to her mouth, eyes wide.
“She’s sneaky like that,” Quinn informed her. “That’s why she’s a detective.”
Dove threw a towel at him, and he stretched out a hand and caught it lazily, laughing at her.
“I think Abi will be okay,” Delta said suddenly, her face serious. “And to be fair, Leo was dead convincing. She believed the whole story about stealing money for them to buy a flat and to get Abi a decent car . . . What? What did I say?”
Dove leaning wearily against the countertop, thoughts racing around her brain, drained her coffee and looked at her watch. What if? It was a cop question, and something she asked herself at least a dozen times a day when she was on a case, trying to figure out how someone’s mind worked.
“Why do you need to go in today?” Quinn asked, clocking her exhaustion, green eyes concerned. “I thought you said you know who did it?”
Dove picked up her bag and keys. “We do, but it’s complicated.”
“Always,” Delta muttered, pulling a half-empty bag of Doritos towards her and dipping in.
“I’ll pick up some groceries on the way home,” Dove added. “See you later.”
“I’m going back to stay with Mum and Eden for a bit while I get my plans sorted out,” Delta said. “You guys are amazing, but I can’t stay dossing on your couch for ever, can I?”
* * *
Dove pulled into work at midday, turned off the engine and briefly closed her eyes, her head back against the headrest. Funny, normally she felt good after they had the perpetrators, but she had this niggling feeling about Jamie and Caz. Caz had confessed. The evidence was there, incriminating both of them. So what was wrong?
DI Blackman greeted Dove as she walked into the office. “You didn’t need to come in, you know.”
Steve was less reserved. “You look like shit. Why don’t you leave it till tomorrow?”
She shrugged and muttered something about needing to tie up loose ends.
DI Blackman had moved over to talk to Lindsey, who was pointing to her computer screen, so Steve updated her. “Caz is adamant Jamie left, even when we said Tracey heard a baby crying, and a man’s voice — says she must have been mistaken.” Steve rolled his eyes. “She’s determined to take the fall on this one, but I don’t know if she’s thought any further than confessing and what it will mean for her daughter.”
“She was desperate for Jamie not to fall back into depression, wasn’t she? Tunnel vision?” Dove suggested.
“Yes. So they will both be charged and it’ll be up to the CPS to sort it out,” Steve finished. “There you go, case solved, so you can go and get some sleep now. But before you go, tell me what happened last night.”
She yawned, saw the DCI was watching her from his office and hastily turned it into a cough. “I think I might need more coffee quite soon.” But she went rapidly back over the events of the night.
“Bet DI Rankin is pleased to have his case solved,” Steve commented.
“He’d already solved it,” Dove said. “He was on his way to arrest Leo yesterday evening. They thought he’d done a runner, but he was staying at a friend’s flat.”
She should be feeling pleased, looking forward to some time off. But she wasn’t. “Fancy a short drive?”
He narrowed his eyes. “Where?”
She lowered her voice. “I want to visit Mickey again. It’s Wednesday, and when we were there last time, I noticed in the visitor’s log Jenna Essex always goes on a Wednesday morning. If we hurry, we can catch her just before she comes out.”
“Okay.” Steve glanced round. Both DIs were back in their offices, and the DCI had just gone out of the door, clutching a stack of files to his chest.
* * *
Dove looked from the unconscious girl in the bed to the sleeping girl in the chair.
“She comes here on a regular basis.” The nurse smiled at Dove. “Spends a couple of hours in Mickey’s room, chatting away to her. Sometimes she plays music.”
“We’ll hang around for a bit, if that’s okay?” Dove said.
“Sure, just make sure you sign out at the main desk when you go, please.” The nurse gathered up her clipboard and walked quickly out of the room.
“You want coffee?” Steve asked softly
“Sure. It’s okay I’ll get it. You stay here in case she wakes up.”
He nodded and pulled out his iPad, settling into one of the other chairs in the room. Dove checked Jenna was still sleeping and then wandered down to the coffee machine. It was far superior to the one at the station, and she fixed them two lattes with cinnamon, before approaching the reception desk.
The woman behind the desk smiled. “Have you finished visiting?”
“No, not yet. I just wondered if I could have a look at Mickey’s visitors in the past six months,” Dove said, still not quite sure why she was pushing this so much. Was it guilt and her memory of a girl she hadn’t been able to save? The hospital was clean and peaceful, all white-painted walls and big panels of glass looking out on to neatly mown lawns.
Patients were walking outside, some with walking frames, others with nurses beside them. A raised vegetable bed had several wheelchair-users gathered around it, their gardening forks and trowels busy turning over the damp earth.
Five years next week. Was it too much to hope for a miracle for Mickey Delaney?
Back in Mickey’s room, Jenna had woken up and was sitting, holding Mickey’s pale hand, stroking it.
Steve accepted his coffee with thanks. “I was just saying to Jenna, I’m sorry I startled her,” he added, smiling easily at the girl opposite them.
“Hi, Jenna,” Dove said.
Her face registered shock, eyes wide. “What are you doing here?”
“Just visiting,” Dove told her.
Steve took up the conversational thread. “I don’t know much about people in a coma, but how is she doing?”
“I’ve read up on it ever since they said Mickey might never come round,” Jenna said fiercely. “And there’s a chance she could still wake up any time and be okay. They don’t know how much damage was done in the fall, so she might not have use of her legs or something but she could still be alive!”
Dove knew from her own reading that Mickey’s was a rare case and she was unlikely to wake up, but she smiled as if she believed in miracles too — and hell, the job she was in, maybe part of her did.
“She had a fever last month, and the doctors were worried in case it turned into pneumonia, but she fought it off. She’s still strong, even like this!”
“We believe you,” Steve said gently. “And we can see how strong Mickey is. She was an athlete, and she survived being attacked, that drop into the quarry. She’s tough, isn’t she?”
Jenna studied them. “Why are you here? I saw on social media Jamie and Caz are being charged with the murders, so that’s it, isn’t it?”
“You don’t seem surprised,” Dove observed.
Jenna’s cheeks flushed pink. “Oh, but I was. I never thought it was them, but when I saw it, I guess it just made sense. I’m not saying they should have done, but everyone knows what Ellis did . . .”
“Three other people died too,” Dove reminded her. “And actually, as I seem to keep reminding you, there is a high probability Ellis didn’t attack Mickey.”
Jenna said nothing, rummaged in her bag and pulled out her phone.
“I saw in the visitor’s log you come every week on Wednesday morning.”
Jenna nodded, her curtain of blonde hair hiding her face now as she bent over her friend. “Sometimes I have to work and need to go after twenty minutes, but when that happens I always pop back in the evening to spend a decent amount of time with her. Her parents and a few other friends visit too. Lots of people came to start with, and sometimes journalists do a piece on her. They even did a reconstructio
n of what might have happened that night for a Crimewatch programme.”
“But nobody appears to know what really did happen,” Steve said softly.
“It was Ellis,” Jenna said obstinately. “You know, Russ — Mickey’s dad — won’t even look at her properly because he feels so guilty about what happened. He told me he almost told her to stay in after the competition and rest.” She looked down at her watch and got up quickly. “I’ve got to teach a class at two. Gotta go.”
She grabbed her bag and almost ran from the room. Dove looked after her, and then back at the girl in the bed. One of the many photos around the room showed the three girls, Mickey, Jenna and Caz, posing in school uniform, laughing at the camera. Their hair was flying out in the wind, and they looked carefree and so young.
Dove picked up the framed photo and studied it, then passed it to Steve. The girls in the picture were all laughing, but was Caz’s expression slightly off? Less genuine than the others? Dove shook her head, and Steve placed it carefully back on the bedside cabinet. The niggle was still there, deep in her belly.
“Something still isn’t right with this lot, is it?” Steve said, watching Mickey as her chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm, and the monitors bleeped with her heart beat.
Dove was watching Mickey too. “I wonder if she can hear our voices?”
As she spoke, a stray beam of sunlight shone out through the scudding grey clouds, lighting a path to Mickey’s bed, highlighting the girl’s quiet face. Dove almost held her breath, but nothing happened, and the sunbeam was gone as quickly as it had arrived.
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
‘Are you scared, Mickey?’
It was the first thing I heard after I fell, that whisper in my ear. I can’t feel much now. I drift along wrapped in a snuggly white blanket, cocooned and safe, but the whispered words make my heart race.
Machinery bleeps and I hear other voices now, raised in worry.