by Ellis, Tim
‘Like personalised car registrations?’
‘You got it. If the gov’ment can do it . . .’
‘Whatever comes up.’
‘Destiny Waters?’
‘Give me a fucking break.’
‘Macy Adebungo?’
‘You’re taking the piss.’
‘Believe me – I ain’t. There were actual people out there with these names. What about Friday Shufflebottom?’
‘You’re getting close, but you’re not quite there yet.’
‘Here we are. This one’s really you – Millie Blow.’
Millie Blow! It was certainly a step up from Susan Bunyan. ‘Okay – how much?’
‘Two thousand five.’
She collapsed to her knees and began rolling about on the floor laughing. ‘Five hundred?’
‘If it wasn’t for my sciatica and gout, I’d join you down there. Two thousand four-nine-nine?’
‘Let’s split the difference – seven-fifty?’
‘You want to get yourself an abacus, lady – two thousand?’
‘One two-fifty?’
‘I could go down to one-five if we add “job” to the aforementioned surname?’
‘If I gave you a blowjob Lizard, there wouldn’t be much left afterwards. I have the habit of biting when I should be blowing. Give me another surname – one that you don’t feel the need to add a fucking suffix to.’
‘Alice Kellogg?’
‘One-five?’
‘When you walk out that door, I’m gonna feel as though I’ve been burgled.’
‘At least you’ll still have your jewels.’
‘I’m very grateful.’
She had to go away and come back after a couple of hours. During that time she withdrew the money from the bank, had a coffee and a spud-u-like with chilli con carne on top that she dribbled down her top and then had to go to the ladies, strip off and wash the damn thing before it stained. Christ! She looked like a single mum with leaking nipples. Next, she found an internet cafe, deleted all twenty-three of her Cookie accounts and found another online name – Scylla a beautiful sea monster – she could be one of those.
‘You’re late,’ Lizard said when she returned.
‘I didn’t realise I was on the clock.’
He passed her an envelope, which contained a card with a National Insurance number on it – not that she was planning to pay any tax or national insurance; a passport – maybe she’d take a holiday, she’d never been out of the country; a driving licence – she’d never passed a driving test either; a National Health Service number – maybe she’d get the marks on her back repaired for free.
She passed him the money.
He put it on a table.
‘Aren’t you going to count it?’
‘You have an honest face.’
‘I’d rob you as soon as look at you.’
‘That’s what I mean.’
‘Nice doing business with you.’
‘And you, Alice Kellogg.’
With the rogue government agents locked up, she went back to the squat in Wanstead, but she knew she wasn’t going to stay. It had been compromised, it wasn’t her squat anymore, she didn’t feel safe like she had before. They’d found out where she lived and trampled all over her self-esteem – Cookie had crumbled.
Shrek was in the living room with the new squatter – Snoopy.
‘Well, if it isn’t the world-famous Cookie Monster,’ he taunted her
‘Fuck off.’
‘Did a herd of rhinos trample through here while we were sunning ourselves at the Isle of White festival?’
‘How did you guess?’
‘They left rhino droppings. I hope you’re going to pay for all this damage?’
‘I’m leaving.’
That shut him up. Well, his mouth dropped open like a sinkhole, but at least he’d stopped talking.
She went up to her room and began packing her things.
He came up behind her and stood in the doorway. ‘So, it’ll just be me left.’
‘I’ll be left. I just won’t be here.’
‘Yeah.’
‘You’ve got that slapper Snoopy anyway.’
‘That’s true. She’s much better than you.’
‘There you go then. You won’t even remember me in ten minutes.’
‘Where are you going?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Don’t think you can come back here anytime you please.’
‘I won’t be back.’
‘Good.’ He came into the room and hugged her.
She hugged him back. ‘Will you fuck off?’
‘A quick shag for the memories.’
‘You want to see a doctor about that.’
And that was the last time she saw or spoke to him. Once she’d packed her stuff, she made her way back to the tube station.
The world was her oyster.
She bought a one-way ticket to Epping – maybe there was a pot of gold at the end of the Central Line.
While she was waiting for the train to arrive, her phone rang.
‘Yes?’
‘It’s Charlie.’
‘That’s very nice for you.’
‘I have a job for you.’
‘Who says I want a job?’
‘I could get someone else if you’re not interested.’
‘You’re lucky I don’t believe a word you say, Charlie Baxter. What’s the job?’
‘It’s complicated.’
‘I can do complicated, but I have a real fucking problem with boring.’
She listened as he told her about the Shrub End four, the disappearance of Isolde Koll, how Pine and his cronies were gunned down outside the prison, about Detective Sergeant Rowley Gilbert being arrested at the airport, the incriminating evidence found at his house and about DI Nathan Banister at Southend.
‘Coppers killing each other is to be encouraged. I hate coppers.’
‘I know, but Sergeant Gilbert is one of the good ones.’
‘The only good ones are dead ones.’
‘You don’t mean that. What about Kowalski?’
‘He’s still a copper.’
‘You’re getting soft.’
‘I’m getting bored with this conversation.’
‘So, we need to find out who really killed the four Shrub End police officers, who planted the evidence in DS Gilbert’s house, what happened to DC Isolde Koll, whether DI Banister at Southend is clean or dirty . . . and anything else you can find out.’
‘A walk in the park.’
‘There’s one other person in the loop.’
‘Oh?’
‘DI Xena Blake.’
‘Xena! She’s not a warrior princess, is she?’
‘She’s in the surgical ward at King George Hospital.’
‘Something serious, I hope?’
‘Womb removed.’
‘I hate men, as well.’
‘I know. Xena is Sergeant Gilbert’s partner, and she’s co-ordinating our efforts.’
‘I don’t need my efforts co-ordinating.’
‘Did you know that death by hanging is still on the statute books for treason.’
‘Fuck ‘em. How’s Jerry Kowalski?’
‘Why don’t you go and see her?’
‘Why don’t you just tell me?’
‘Still in a coma.’
‘I hate women as well.’
‘Anyway, are you taking the job?’
‘Taking it where?’
He didn’t answer.
‘It’ll cost you.’
‘It always costs me.’
‘You’re lucky, I have a small gap in my appointments diary.’
‘I’ll wait to hear from you then.’
‘Yes, you will.’
She ended the call, and stepped onto the train to her new life in Epping.
***
On the evening of Jade Williams’ disappearance she’d been studying with her best friend – Nicola Maye
ll – who lived a short distance away at 23 Lilac Road in Rye.
At seven-thirty on the evening of Friday, January 24 Jade waved goodbye to Nicola and walked to the end of Lilac Road. She turned left into Stanstead Road, walked past the Methodist Church, the Labour Club and Rye Park. A CCTV camera – positioned outside the Tesco Express on the corner of Burford Street – captured her walking past at seven thirty-nine. That was the last time anybody saw her. From there, it was a short walk along Duke Street, over the roundabout into Hertford Road, and left into Norris Road and home. Not one person saw her between Tesco Express and her home, and the investigating officers assumed that she’d been enticed into a car not far from the shop.
Richards knocked on the door of the three-bedroom semi-detached house.
Eventually, a pretty teenager with black hair cut into a bob, a top that had been hurriedly put on back-to-front without a bra underneath and a flushed face appeared. ‘Yes?’
Parish produced his warrant card. ‘Detective Inspector Parish and Constable Richards from Hoddesdon Police Station. Could we come in and talk to you?’
‘Don’t you need my parents’ permission?’
‘Only if you have something to hide – do you?’
Her face reddened.
‘We won’t tell your parents about you having sex with your boyfriend while they’re not here,’ Richards said.
‘How . . . ? I don’t know what you’re talking about. Is it about Jade?’
‘Have you not seen the news today?’ Parish asked her.
‘No. I’ve been . . . studying for my exams.’
‘Human biology is a fascinating subject, I’m sure. We’ve found Jade.’
Her face drained of colour. ‘I guess you didn’t find her alive – otherwise you wouldn’t be here?’
‘No, I’m afraid not.’
She stood to one side. ‘You’d better come in.’ After closing the door she led them into a living room that resembled something from Out of Africa. There was a stuffed elephant head hung on the wall on one side of the television, and a giraffe head on the other side. A zebra skin rug was spread under the mahogany coffee table, with matching cushions on the leather suite. On the opposite wall to the television was a Zulu shield with crossed spears behind it . . . ‘Sorry about this’ she said. ‘My mum and dad went on a safari to Africa. Now my dad thinks he’s the great white hunter.’
Parish walked up and examined the elephant head more closely. ‘Did your father shoot them?’
‘Did he heck. He bought all the African stuff you see here at a car boot sale in Chigwell. Parents are so embarrassing. Do you want something . . . ?’
‘No, we’re fine,’ Richards said. ‘I know what you mean about embarrassing parents though.’
Parish nudged her.
Richards sat down on the sofa next to Nicola.
Parish sat in a chair.
‘I told the police everything I knew at the time.’
‘Jade was simply missing then,’ Parish said. ‘Now, it’s a murder investigation, so if there is anything you didn’t say three months ago, now would be a good time.’
A boy with long hair, bare feet and a hairless chest that they could see through an unbuttoned checked shirt shuffled into the room. ‘You all right, Nic?’
‘They’ve found Jade.’
‘Alive?’
‘No.’
‘Jesus.’
‘The police are here to ask me some questions. You’d better go.’
‘Are you sure? I could . . .’
‘I don’t think so. I’ll see you in the sixth form tomorrow.’
‘Okay.’ He shuffled out again.
‘His name’s Jon Donaldson. We were just about to . . . Anyway, you probably saved me from making a big mistake.’
‘Believe me, you have plenty of time,’ Richards said. ‘Having sex with anybody at seventeen is always a big mistake.’
‘Did you?’
Richards screwed up her face. ‘I don’t think we should talk about me, I’m not very good at relationships.’
‘A wise decision,’ Parish said. ‘Right, can we move away from the agony aunt advice and focus on why we’re here?’
‘We studied between six and seven-thirty . . .’ Nicola began.
‘Did you study?’ Parish asked.
‘What do you mean?’
‘Well, you’ve told everybody you studied, but did you really study? It was Friday night. Did you get your books out, take notes, ask each other questions . . . ?’
‘No . . .’ She wrung her hands and stared at the wooden floor.
‘You need to tell us the truth now, Nicola,’ Richards said, moving up next to her.
‘I know. I didn’t before because Jade made me promise . . .’
They waited.
‘We were in a chat room . . . If I’d known she would . . . and then she was missing for so long . . . it just became impossible to tell the truth.’ She began to cry. ‘I’m sorry.’
Richards held her hand. ‘Tell us about the chat room.’
‘She couldn’t do anything at home. There was all those creepy guys her mum went with, and all her brothers and sisters. She had to share a room with two of her sisters, you know. Her boyfriend Lee was always there as well. You’ve seen him – he would have killed her if he’d found out what she was doing. He’d hit her before – broke two of her ribs where it wouldn’t show. She wanted to end it with him, but she was scared of what he might do.’
‘Did she meet someone?’
‘He called himself Squiggle and made her laugh.’
‘Which chat room?’
‘PopTalk . . . He’d uploaded a photograph of himself onto his profile – he was a real hunk. She said she used to think of Squiggle when Lee was having sex with her. If she hadn’t found him first, I would have been his plaything.’
Richards brow creased. ‘Plaything? Why do you say that?’
‘She was chatting with him that night . . .’
‘Where were you?’
‘I was with her. We were lying on my bed both chatting to him, but under Jade’s username.’
‘What was that?’
‘Raveneyes.’
Parish sat forward. ‘Did Jade use your computer? When the police investigating her disappearance searched her bedroom for clues, they didn’t find a computer.’
Nicola stood up and left the room.
They heard her run up the stairs, and then a couple of minutes later run back down again.
Parish noticed that she’d swivelled her top the right way round and put her bra back on.
She handed Richards a white Samsung Galaxy tablet computer. ‘Jade kept her tablet here. I used to take it to school with me and give it to her there, and then she’d give it back to me on the way home to keep here.’
‘Thank you,’ Richards said.
‘No wonder they couldn’t find anything in her room,’ Parish said. ‘Didn’t the investigating officers ask you . . . ?’
‘I know I should have said something, but . . .’
Richards prompted Nicola, ‘She was chatting with him that night . . . ?’
‘Yes . . . they started off talking about boring stuff – clothes, music, food – those type of things, but then it started getting a bit weird.’
‘In what way?’
‘I don’t know how we even got onto it. We were laughing and giggling like ten year-olds. Maybe it was us who started it. We were trying to act like adults and do adult things.’
‘The conversation turned to sex?’
‘Yeah, but not right away. And thinking back, I guess he didn’t want to frighten her away by getting to it too quickly.’
‘And that’s where the “plaything” came from?’
‘It sounded sexy and romantic at the time – not dirty at all. All the girls had read the “Fifty Shades” books, and I guess we wanted to play those games.’
Parish screwed his face up. ‘Fifty Shades books? Games?’
‘They’re
erotic fiction,’ Richards said. ‘I’ll tell you about them later.’
‘How come you know about them, and I don’t?’
‘Never mind.’ She turned back to Nicola. ‘Did she go to meet him?’
‘Yes. I would have gone with her as well if my mum hadn’t been here. Jade was going to have all the fun, and I was stuck in on a Friday night like a nerd.’
Richards put a hand on her shoulder, ‘You were lucky.’
‘I know.’
‘Where did she arrange to meet him?’
‘At the Tesco Express.’
‘So he’s local?’ Parish asked.
‘He said he needed half an hour to get here. We had to look up the postcode of the shop for him, so he wasn’t familiar with the area.’
‘And he didn’t tell you where he was coming from?’
‘No.’
‘Did he give you any other details?’
‘Not that I recall.’
‘What about his car?’
‘He said he had a Lamborghini, but we didn’t believe him.’
‘And yet you believed that the photograph was of him, and that he was who he said he was?’
She shrugged, and then burst into tears again. ‘Do you think that if I’d told you sooner, she would still be alive?’
Richards hugged her. ‘We don’t know for sure, but it’s unlikely – she was killed shortly after she was taken.’
‘Oh God! Did he do anything . . . you know?’
‘I’m sorry, we don’t know anything like that yet, but even if we did we wouldn’t be able to tell you.’
‘Is there anything else that you omitted to say at the time?’ Parish asked.
‘No. It was just that.’
He stood up. ‘You’ll need to come to the station with one or both of your parents tomorrow morning and make a formal statement.’
She nodded.
They made their way out.
‘Do you think Jade would still be alive if Nicola had said something at the time, Sir?’
‘The sad thing is Richards, we’ll never know.’
Chapter Six
The one obvious problem with having the Red Spider case staring at him all the time was that – given the choice of shuffling paper or working on the case – there wasn’t much in the way of competition.
He found a station flag folded up in one of the drawers of a cabinet that he threw over the whiteboard – out of sight, out of mind – but it wasn’t. What he couldn’t see became even more interesting.