“Not that I recall; they were both incoherent. And I won’t be asking them, either. I have too much to do today. I’m going to amend the schedule to keep them apart for the week, then deal with them both after the inspection.”
“Right, thank you, Gillian. You’ll call DS Harris if anything further comes back to you?”
“Yes.”
Okafor said goodbye and ended the call, then turned to a puzzled looking DS Harris.
“Why would Edith make it up? Why would she say Marie had accused Karen of the murders if it never happened?” Joanne pondered.
“Or, why would Gillian leave it out of her account?” asked Okafor with a sigh.
The case continued to frustrate him. Both he and his officers had spent a fair chunk of time at the supermarket to gather information. They’d learnt a lot. The Head of HR and the Head of Accounts hated each other because of a disagreement over two years ago. The husband of one staff member had made sexual approaches to young men working at the store. And Colin was one to watch because he disappeared behind the stockroom crates around the same time every day for some ‘alone time.’
Although much of the gossip was intriguing, none of it had given them a further lead or insight into the murders. Not one person had mentioned anything to do with a princess or princesses. Well, apart from Karen’s comment about Renee’s cat.
He’d considered asking Renee why she chose that name for the cat. But how on earth would that look in the press? He could see the headline now: ‘Desperate cops pussyfooting around in double murder case.’
His gut instinct told him loud and clear that they were missing something. The store and some of the people within it were guarding a much bigger secret that would unlock the motive behind Janice and Caitlin’s murders. Yet, resources were tight, media interest was waning, and serious organised crime was the new priority.
Pressure was mounting on him to declare the Melwood case cold and direct all resource onto the Dimont investigation. His diligence and progress on that front would at least mitigate the internal criticism he might receive for an unsolved murder case.
“I know what you’re thinking,” sighed DS Harris.
“Frustrating, isn’t it?” replied Okafor with a shake of his head.
“But we’ve been over the files, and there are no clear next steps, no more leads to follow unless we re-interview. But that is resource-intensive and won’t reflect well on us. No-one has emerged as a clear enough suspect to warrant surveillance, and the Dimont investigation is heating up.”
“Will you close the case then, sir?”
“Close the case? No, Joanne, we won’t be closing this one yet. I want you to keep half an eye on it when you can spare it.”
Her shoulders relaxed and a small smile appeared on her face.
“These ‘princesses’ may crop up again at some point, and when they do, we want a flag raised on this case. So please set that up today before you continue on the Dimonts. And don’t hesitate to note down any thoughts or other reports from people within the supermarket. Something tells me this one will heat up again, and I want us to be ready when it does.”
“There was something, sir, that both Edith and Gillian agreed on that I thought was quite odd. Well, worthy of note anyway.”
“Go on,” encouraged Okafor, curiously.
“Well, does Renee Beck strike you as the designated driver type?”
Okafor sat back, surprised that he’d not thought of it himself. It was extraordinary that renowned party girl Renee, who usually thrived on being the centre of attention, had played a supporting role.
“No, Joanne, she does not. Be sure to note that down. And one last thing, please. Can you find out the relationship between Jack Dimont and Jade Dimont from the Melwood store?”
“She’s his daughter, sir.”
“His daughter?” he replied, in shock. “She looks nothing like him.”
“She’s illegitimate, sir, for want of a better word. After Jack’s sons were born, he had a brief affair with a woman in New Grange, and Jade was the result. Spitting image of her mother. She doesn’t live with the Dimont family, but even so, it might be too risky to talk to her. We don’t know what the relationship is like, and she might tip him off.”
“You’ve thought about this, Joanne?” asked Okafor, impressed with her diligence.
“Yes, I have, sir. I haven’t been neglecting the Dimonts. I know quite a bit about them.”
“Good work.”
Okafor locked his files away with a smile, and they both left to attend the Super’s morning briefing.
He nodded to his team on the way out of the office, then took a route home through Melwood, past the supermarket. Images of Janice and Caitlin, Jade and Jack Dimont flicked through his head.
After two decades in his line of work, he didn’t much believe in coincidences.
15: Isn’t It Obvious?
Monday 29th October 2018 - Debbie
Debbie put on an ironed uniform and brushed through her thick hair, which stubbornly refused to stay flat. Today, nothing less than perfect would do. Gillian’s preparation for the inspection had been meticulous, and Debbie didn’t want to let her down.
Her phone beeped over and over again from the bedside table. She put the hair straighteners down to read the stream of messages from Karen.
Renee has gone sick today.
Can you believe it?!
Inspection day of all days.
Gill rang me, says I have to come in.
Can’t really say no after last week.
You’re in, right?
Please tell me Mardie isn’t working, I can’t face her.
Debbie?
Debbie carried her phone over to her dresser and responded.
Absolutely can believe it – typical Renee. Will be me, you, Gill and Dawn today – Marie and Ethan always do Monday night shift together.
Despite her best efforts, Debbie was running late again. As she got into her car, her tights snagged on the wall of the driveway. She prayed the damage was minimal and drove towards the supermarket at speed.
As she entered the store, she could sense the change in atmosphere. There were no cheery ‘hellos’ or quick chats as she walked through the store and staff area. Everyone, especially the managers, was cleaning and preparing their departments.
When Debbie reached the Supervisor’s desk, she found Gillian muttering to herself. She also spotted Dawn sweeping the area around the checkouts in a lacklustre fashion, casting furtive glances at Gillian.
“Morning,” said Debbie tentatively.
“Debbie. Have you heard? Renee!” replied Gillian. The stress seemed to have rendered her incapable of forming proper sentences.
“Yes, I did hear, Gill. But Karen is coming in, so we’re all covered.”
“Right. Tills, change, now Debbie!”
Debbie took this as an instruction to fill all the tills up with loose change. She didn’t hesitate or ask any further questions; it was, at least, a better job than sweeping. As she reached the basket-only tills at the end of the row of checkouts, Gillian barked further orders at her.
“You stick to the schedule Debbie. Dawn will focus on swaps and returns, and you make sure every member of staff is where they need to be. Give any angry customers what they want. Today must go without a hitch.”
At that exact moment, the first customer of the day lost control of his trolley. It swung into the Halloween display at the front of the store, sending pumpkins rolling. Debbie almost laughed, but she stopped herself when she saw that Gillian’s face had turned a deep shade of red.
Unfortunately, the pumpkin incident seemed to set the tone for the day ahead. At 10, an angry customer loudly returned a tin of rotten beans, not due to expire until 2025. At 10.45, an elderly customer fainted in the biscuit aisle. It shortly became clear that there were no first aiders on shift. At 11.30, a hungover trolley boy crashed a long trail of trolleys into a customer’s Jaguar.
Worst of al
l, the Inspector had decided to poke around the storeroom in the early afternoon. He’d bumped into Colin behind the tins. Shortly afterwards, Steve escorted Colin from the premises with a P45 and a face of thunder.
The Inspector reached the checkout department at 3 pm. It was busy enough, but to Debbie’s relief, there were no long queues, and everything was running smoothly. Gillian beamed as she ran the Inspector through various folders and schedules.
It was all going a bit too well until around 3.45 pm, when Debbie heard a loud crash from the basket till area. A bottle of vinegar had smashed and covered a customer’s white trousers in flecks of brown. Debbie looked at Gillian and saw a vein twitching around her temple. She put down the staff schedule and ran towards the incident.
“You stupid girl!” the customer shouted at Louisa, who didn’t respond.
“I’m so sorry, sir,” Debbie apologised, as she skidded to a halt next to the puddle of vinegar.
“Cleaner to basket-only tills immediately.” Karen’s voice sounded over the store announcement system.
“Sorry won’t fix this!” shouted the customer. He jabbed his finger towards his cheap-looking white trousers.
“Come with me, sir, let’s take you around to Customer Services. We’ll replace the vinegar and give you the money towards dry cleaning. Follow me.”
To Debbie’s relief, the offer seemed to appease him. But as they turned away, Louisa burst into tears. Gillian and Dawn both walked towards the scene but didn’t know what to do with Louisa.
“Gillian,” called Debbie, “take the gentleman to Customer Services. Dawn, jump on this till while I take Lou upstairs for a little break.”
Under the gaze of the Inspector, Gillian nodded. But she then whispered, “Calm her down and bring her back, Debbie. No long chats.”
Debbie nodded and put her arm around a sobbing Louisa.
“That man was an arse,” tutted Debbie, as they entered the canteen. “Please don’t let him upset you.”
He had upset Louisa, though; huge teardrops seeped from her eyes and ran down her freckled nose. Close up, Debbie noticed how the girl’s uniform hung off her. Her eyes, though puffy, had dark grey circles underneath them. She was only a few years older than Marco, but she looked so different, so uncared for.
“Has something else happened?” asked Debbie, as she stroked Louisa’s back.
“I, I c-can’t do this anymore,” stuttered Louisa through her sobs.
“This job?” asked Debbie.
“Everything. I c-can’t do it.”
“Now then, what do you mean? Are you in some kind of trouble?”
Louisa nodded, but then her eyes widened in fear, and she raised her hands to her face and covered her mouth.
“Lou, I could help, you can talk to me,” urged Debbie, but Louisa shook her head and bit her lip.
“N-no you can’t help, no-one can. Can you give me a few minutes, Debbie? I’ll be OK. I don’t want Gillian to be cross with me. I need this job.”
By the time Debbie returned, the Inspector had moved to another department. Gillian still looked stressed though.
“Well?” she squeaked as soon as Debbie approached her. Her eyes were a little bloodshot, and the vein in her temple was still pulsing.
“Well nothing,” replied Debbie. “The man was rude to her, and it upset her. She was a bit shook up, but she’ll be fine.”
“Anything else?”
“Oh, no, nothing else,” said Debbie calmly, though her mind was racing.
Louisa was in some kind of trouble. Someone was making her do something she didn’t want to, and she couldn’t escape. Debbie’s mind wandered to the text on Caitlin’s phone.
‘Something dodgy is going on at work… we report it to protect the vulnerable.’
The evening shift staff arrived and broke her chain of thought.
“Right,” said Debbie, as she tried to concentrate on the people in front of her. “Julia, you take Edith off the till early, it’ll make her day. Simon, go to the Customer Service desk please and send Karen back round here. Stacy, can you clear the baskets and tidy the tills for half an hour please.”
Stacy nodded and turned around with a yawn. Debbie watched her slink away. She also looked the wrong side of thin and always seemed tired and nervous. And, now that Debbie thought of it, so did Jade.
“God, that vinegar man was a pain,” moaned Karen as she approached the Supervisor’s desk. “I’d pay him not to wear those hideous trousers.”
“Karen,” whispered Debbie, looking around to check no-one was listening. “Do you think there’s something up with some of the young girls that work here?”
“The teenagers?” replied Karen with a look of surprise. “Well they’re teenage girls Debbie, I expect there’s plenty up with them.”
“No, I mean something serious. Have you noticed Louisa and Stacy, and even Jade? They all look too thin, don’t they? Dark bags under their eyes, bad skin, miserable? It’s not healthy for people that age.”
“Well, I’m not being funny,” replied Karen, “but they’re all from New Grange, aren’t they? They’re poor, Deb,” she added.
“No, there’s something dodgy going on,” whispered Debbie, with a pointed glance at Karen.
“Oh no,” muttered Karen after a moment’s pause. “Not this again. No, Deb, I don’t want to hear it.”
Debbie tried to protest, but Karen put her fingers in her ears and said “la, la, la” over and over again.
“Where do you think Renee is, then?” asked Debbie, after a short silence.
“How should I know? At home ill, I expect. It’s not like we needed her here anyway. Speaking of which,” she added before Debbie could interrupt, “you don’t need me here for the next fifteen minutes, do you?”
“Well, no, but…”
“Great! I’m leaving early then. Don’t want to bump into Mardie.”
Typical, thought Debbie, as she watched Karen turn and walk away from the checkouts. She saw out the remaining shift in a daze until Ethan and Marie arrived to take over.
Debbie reached the staff area shortly after 5 pm, feeling exhausted from the day. As she opened her locker, she looked over and saw Dawn standing still, staring into space.
“Dawn?” asked Debbie, making her quiet colleague jump with a start. “Are you OK?”
“Yes,” Dawn replied with a sigh as she pulled her coat from her locker.
Dawn had worked at the store since before Debbie joined. Yet, apart from a few more grey hairs and wrinkles, she hadn’t changed at all. She’d always been private. She got on with her job without complaint and blended into the store itself.
Debbie felt compelled to move closer to Dawn, to confide in her. Unlike Karen, she hoped Dawn would take her seriously.
“Hey, Dawn, have you noticed that some of the girls who work here don’t seem right. You know, the younger girls,” she whispered.
Dawn’s eyes widened as she looked over Debbie’s shoulder. She swept the locker area to ensure no-one else was there, listening in.
“Like, they’re depressed or something?”
Dawn shook her head.
“They’re not depressed, Debbie,” she whispered back, “isn’t it obvious what’s going on?”
“What do you mean?” asked Debbie, but Dawn didn’t respond.
“What’s going on, Dawn?”
Dawn grimaced and swept the locker area again. In the distance, Debbie heard a door close. “Something is happening to these girls. Someone at the store is forcing them into something they don’t want to do?” ventured Debbie, and Dawn nodded.
“Did Janice and Caitlin find out?” Debbie whispered, praying that no-one would interrupt them. Dawn shrugged her shoulders but gave a short nod.
“Who is it, Dawn?”
They heard footsteps in the distance, and Dawn swiftly turned around to face her locker again.
“Not here, Debbie,” she replied, under her breath. “I’m going to the police at the end of the week to
tell them what’s going on. I just need another few days to double-check things. Keep your head down and don’t say a word. The more you know, the more danger you’ll be in.”
Dawn rushed away, leaving Debbie standing at the lockers, shell-shocked. Her head span as adrenaline coursed through her veins. It wasn’t only her who had suspicions. She wasn’t being paranoid or getting carried away. Dawn had joined the dots too. Janice and Caitlin were right. There was something dodgy going on, affecting young girls from the New Grange estate. Were the girls forced into other jobs and made to sell drugs?
Or, Debbie thought, as a chill ran down her spine, could it be prostitution? The word ‘Princesses’ definitely suggested prostitution, rather than a criminal gang.
Either way, someone else within the store was behind it all, pulling the strings. Janice and Caitlin were onto them, but they were killed to protect the secret.
Debbie fought the urge to run away from the supermarket and go to the police herself. If she made a rash move now, the culprit might have time to cover their tracks. She could put everyone in danger. She’d have to sit tight and wait for Dawn to go to the police with the evidence. Then, finally, the police would make a breakthrough in the investigation, and there would be closure at last.
So, instead of running, she strolled back through the store. She smiled and waved goodbye to her colleagues, many of whom she now thought of as suspects.
16: Fright Night
Wednesday 31st October 2018 - Debbie
Debbie gazed out of her kitchen window at the darkening sky. Her eyelids dropped, and her head nodded downwards, before snapping back up with a start. She’d barely slept following her conversation with Dawn two days before.
Debbie wished Dawn would reply to her messages. She had texted her four times in the last two days but hadn’t received a response.
“Mum, it’s time to go to the party,” shouted Abbie from the doorway, breaking Debbie’s thoughts.
Killer Princesses: Gripping and gritty, a twisty and tantalising thriller... Page 11