by Martina Cole
Julie nodded, her eyes sceptical. ‘Go on. I’m listening.’
‘I’m investigating Barker myself. I am a DI, as you know, currently working on another case and his name keeps cropping up. I heard about your daughter and that’s what brought me here today. But I swear to you, Mrs Carmichael, that if I can bag that bastard I will. But I cannot promise anything. I am in the same position as you, coming up against some powerful vested interests, and if I pursue this enquiry to their detriment I could be drummed out of my job. But, I assure you, I will do the utmost I can to bring him to justice.’
Julie seemed to fold in on herself with the release of tension. Her whole body sagged with relief. She held her bottom jaw tightly with one hand as if trying to contain her emotion. Her eyes were glistening with tears.
‘Just to tell someone and be believed is more than enough,’ she said shakily. ‘But to hear you say you are going to try and do something is more than I ever imagined. The worst of it all was that everyone I dealt with looked on my girl as just a tramp. Beneath their notice. It was as if they thought she had asked for what happened to her. But whatever she was, she was led there by someone. And that someone was Barker. He was a guest in my home. His wife Mavis was my mate. He knew my little girl. Knew her and used that to get to her.’ She was crying openly now.
Kate gave her a clean hankie and tried to comfort her. But how could you comfort a woman who had lost the two people who were most precious to her through the callous betrayal of a police department? The very people who should have been protecting her family had been working against them from the start.
How the hell are you supposed to comfort someone who knows that to be a fact and that no one else will ever believe her?
But Kate tried, though it was the hardest thing she had ever done.
She looked around her at the photos of Lesley and her parents everywhere. At the votive candle alight in front of a photograph of a small girl with gap teeth and an innocent smile. And Kate herself wanted to cry until there were no more tears left.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Willy felt better than he had in days. Maureen was looking after him like a favoured child: cooked breakfast, a doctor for his burns, and as much affection as he could cope with. Ensconced in her large soft bed with its pink nylon quilt and padded headboard, he finally relaxed.
Duane had rolled him a small joint for medicinal purposes. Willy had binned it, secretly, because he knew the boy meant well and didn’t want to hurt his feelings.
Now, though, he had to think about his next step. Visit Patrick and see what the score was, then get his arse round to see what was happening with the club and the businesses. He also needed to see Kate but he had to tread warily because he wasn’t sure what Pat had told her and he respected her too much to lie to her face.
Maureen came into the room, her hair freshly washed and set, nails gleaming and her ample cleavage wobbling from her exertions. She carried yet another tray laden with food and drink.
Willy smiled at her fondly, his moon face a picture of contentment. She was a good sort, old Maureen, and he owed her for these last few days. Really owed her. She had asked him nothing but what was relevant to looking after him. She knew the score. Another woman would have nagged the life out of him for explanations, but he had told her only what he wanted her to know and Maureen had left it at that. That kind of trust was not given to everyone, and for that reason alone he was a happy man.
As he tucked into yet more good home-cooked food he found it in his heart to wonder what the next few weeks would bring and whether he would be able to get through them without involving Maureen and her son.
He hoped so. But the way things were, he might soon be putting his life on the line again for his old mate.
Maureen smiled at him and he recognised the gleam in her eye as she said huskily, ‘You up to a bit of how’s your father yet, Willy?’
He wolfed down a large piece of succulent steak and smiled winningly. ‘I don’t see why not, girl.’
They smiled at one another and Maureen sat on the bed and watched him eat as if her own life depended on it.
Kate looked again over the files from Robert Bateman. Kerry’s made particularly depressing reading; but there was no mention anywhere of her being involved with anyone other than her father and his friends. Barker’s name was nowhere to be seen. Kate had had to disguise her shock at hearing Kerry Alston’s name being mentioned in connection with Lesley Carmichael and her murder. She had not wanted Julie to know that she was already investigating Kerry and Jackie. But names were recurring too frequently for it to be merely coincidence, not just in her enquiries into the paedophile case but in Lesley’s death as well.
It seemed that Kerry was implicated in one murder at a young age. What if there were more than one? Kate would have to visit her soon, tell her what she’d found out and see what effect her words had on the girl. She didn’t hold out much hope, though.
The phone rang and she answered it. ‘Burrows here.’
A deep rich Irish brogue oozed along the line like melting butter. ‘How are ye, me darling girl?’
Kenny Caitlin’s voice lifted Kate’s spirits at once.
‘All the better for hearing from you. Any chance of a lunch?’
He picked up the hesitation in her voice and chuckled.
‘How about I ring you later and we arrange it properly? I understand you’re interested in a colleague of mine?’
She didn’t answer and he chuckled again.
‘I’ll be in touch at eight tonight, make sure you’re in.’
The line went dead and Kate replaced the receiver gently. She had better tell her mother to set another place for dinner; it sounded like Kenny was coming to see her himself.
One thing with Kenny, you could rely on him for the truth no matter how bad it was or who it offended. When she thought of her initial dismay at having to work with him on the Grantley Ripper enquiry it made her smile. He had been fantastic. He had also become a good friend which was why she had called on him now.
If there was any way to smoke out Barker, then Kenny was the man to do it. Kate felt easier just for talking to him. Picking up the files, she walked from the office. She would look them over at the hospital. As she passed Golding she told him to arrange for her to see Kerry on remand, then she left the building.
On the way to the hospital her mind was on Lesley Carmichael and her mother, the children who were missing or dead and the quest for the common denominator that linked them all.
She had trained herself not to think too much about Patrick. She was going to wait until they knew if he would make a full recovery before considering whether they still had a future. Until then she had enough on her plate without going looking for more.
Evelyn was just leaving the hospital as Kate arrived. Kate explained about dinner that night and saw the pleasure on her mother’s face when she heard it was Kenny Caitlin who was to be their guest.
‘I have a nice piece of pork I could roast to a dream!’
She went off planning the night’s menu and Kate wondered how she had not put on fifteen stone with the amount of food she now polished off at her mother’s insistence. Jenny was already up half a stone and counting, but she didn’t seem to care. In fact, Kate had a feeling that Jenny would become a permanent fixture in the house if she could. It was strange how even grown women needed mothering at times.
As she settled herself into the chair by Patrick’s bed and grasped his hand, a wave of weariness overcame her. She detected a strong aroma of Estée Lauder and turned to see Grace and Violet as they came into the ward.
‘How’s he seem?’
Grace shrugged. ‘OK. No real change. The consultant says he can be moved to a general ward soon so that’s something. He breathes on his own and has reflex actions but that’s about it.’ Her voice was resigned, manner offhand as usual when she spoke to Kate.
Violet smiled kindly. ‘You look tired, love. Too much work?’
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‘As usual,’ Kate replied. ‘Still, Vi, someone has to do it, eh?’ Her voice was light and seemed to offend Grace.
‘Someone has to be a Filth?’ she snapped. ‘Are you having a tin bath? Who in their right mind would want a fucking job like that? No one I know would even consider it.’
Kate’s patience snapped too. This was the last in a long line of insults and snubs.
‘Well, for your information, Grace, decent law-abiding people like me and my job. If you only mix with thieves, liars, con men and ex-prostitutes, you would be biased, wouldn’t you?’
As soon as the words came out of her mouth she regretted them. But Grace and her silly innuendos, her constant sarcasm and bitchiness, were getting her down. With everything else she had to think about, it was the final straw.
‘There are more bent people in the police force, darling. You take my word for it. I know.’
Kate couldn’t really argue with what Grace was saying. Not with what she had just found out. But all the same she answered her.
‘You know? You know everything, don’t you? Well, Grace, let me tell you something: you know nothing, do you hear me? All you do is shoot your mouth off from a position of complete ignorance. But if you got burgled, the police would be the first people you would ring. If a child is killed, if a bank is robbed . . . the police step in. It’s what keeps this country from descending into fucking anarchy. Think what it would be like if we had no laws, you silly bloody bitch! Think about it. Anyone and everyone, all doing exactly what they wanted. Why don’t you look at the big picture for once?’
Violet, ever the peacemaker, said stoutly, ‘Right and all, love. Really, Grace, you are a pain at times. The girl is only doing her job.’
Grace turned on her sister and shouted, ‘Girl? Girl? She’s in her bleeding forties! She ain’t a girl, she’ll be catching up with us soon. You don’t half talk some crap, Vi.’
‘You vicious old bitch!’ Violet shoved her sister in the chest. ‘She’d be hard pushed to catch up with you. Seventy-two you are, lady, and I can prove it. Bloody woman, driving us all mad with your nasty tongue and your miserable boat. Even the nurses can’t stand you, you wicked old cow!’
‘Can I have a drink?’
The quiet voice was ignored as Grace shoved her sister back, none too gently.
‘Now it’s all coming out, ain’t it? We know whose side you’re on. Don’t we? Sneaking round after her, making her cups of tea . . . I’ve seen you! Even though she dumped our brother and left him on his Jack Jones. Soon came back when he was shot, though, didn’t she? After a cut of his dosh . . .’
Kate was mesmerised by what the woman was saying. Her mind registered that the row was being listened to by everyone in the vicinity and as this was the ICU she expected a nurse to come in at any second and tell them their behaviour was out of order.
Instead Violet shrieked, ‘I am sick of you, Grace! All me bleeding life I’ve had to listen to you. Well, let me tell you something - I think Patrick had a touch when he met Kate. I like her and I always will. And her mother. Pat was out of order - he told me that himself when he came to see me after she went on the trot. He regretted doing what he did and now he is paying the price. So why don’t you shut your trap and give your poor arse a chance now and again?’
Grace was puce with shock, anger and embarrassment. She could take anything from Kate Burrows, but to hear her own sister say those things was beyond her comprehension.
But Violet wasn’t sorry at all for speaking up. In fact, she was glad it was finally out in the open. Grace’s constant harping and bullying were getting her down. Violet was as upset as anyone but Grace, as usual, made out she was suffering more than any of them.
Kate and Violet glared at her now. Violet had even walked over to stand by Kate’s side which made it even worse for Grace. She was defeated and she knew it.
Her carefully made-up face crumpled. She looked years older and close to collapse as she turned away from them and stormed out of the ward. It was quiet suddenly and both Violet and Kate were shaken and upset by what had just taken place.
Then a voice made them both jump as Patrick said hoarsely, ‘She’ll be all right. Now, if you two have quite finished, can I have a drink of some description, please?’
They both turned and stared at the man in the bed as if they had never seen him before in their lives.
Then a scream from Violet brought the nurses running in. They had been listening to the argument, too frightened to interrupt Grace and her harangue. Now, though, seeing her storm outside, they felt brave enough to enter the room. As one nurse had remarked, that old bird’s voice could raise the dead. It seemed it had done the next best thing and had roused Mr Kelly from his coma. But no one said that in the room, they saved that little gem for their tea break. They just enjoyed seeing the happiness on the faces around them and their own sense of justifiable pride that he had recovered in their care.
Kenneth Caitlin’s voice was loud and betrayed the fact that he had already had a drink before arriving.
Jenny had heard of him but never met him. She had prepared herself for an irascible old bastard and was pleased to find he was a charming elderly man. The large breakfast bar in the kitchen was laid with care and both wine and food were superb thanks to Evelyn who greeted Caitlin like a long-lost relative.
After being served with a large roast dinner and exclaiming that it would keep him going for a week, he looked at Kate and got straight to the point.
‘So, Katie, what’s your interest in Barker?’
‘He was accused of paedophile activity when he was at Grantley. A young girl was murdered and he was investigated in connection with it. Then everything was dropped - the investigation, I mean. He was never charged. It seems that it was Ratchette who pulled the plug on it all. And now I have a paedophile ring involving young women corrupted by him, the murder of a child twelve years ago which I believe he was in on, two more children dead, and three more missing. I believe he’s in on it all.’
She looked Kenneth in the eye. ‘I have no proof that he’s still active in this area, though - it’s just a hunch. Paedophiles return again and again to their haunts, as you know. If they find an area where they are welcome and not found out, they will keep going back to it. I think he has to be in on this latest child abuse, somehow. I recently tried to arrest a girl called Suzy Harrington and was warned off by Ratchette, who apparently had a call from high up. Very high up, in fact - the Home Office itself, no less. But the person who made the call was a crony of Barker’s and we can prove that . . .’
Caitlin interrupted her, a mouthful of pork crackling in his mouth. ‘Who was the Home Office grass then?’
‘Jeffrey Cavendish.’
She saw Caitlin’s eyes widen.
‘Jasus! They have everyone, don’t they?’
‘So it would seem,’ Jenny agreed. ‘We have so many people involved in this it would take all night to go through them all. What we need from you is everything you know about Barker. We need your assessment of him. Is he evil enough to be behind all this?’
Caitlin finished eating, then, pointing his knife at Kate, he said seriously, ‘Barker has had a cloud over him for years. It started here and it followed him to the smoke. You can believe me when I say he’s tight with someone big. Very tight. He’s a known jobber with the younger girls, but then that’s nothing unusual in a Vice cop. With him, though, it’s out of control. He’s a vicious thug on the wrong team yet no one seems able to get shot of him. His wife Mavis was terrified of him, when I knew her, as was his youngest girl, Pauline.’
Kate interrupted. ‘I thought his wife’s name was Debbie?’
He shook his head, and Kate was puzzled for a moment before letting it go.
‘No. His wife is Mavis. His daughter is called Pauline.’
‘Pauline accused two of our suspects, Kerry Alston and Jackie Palmer, of sexually assaulting her when they were all at school. The charges were dropped, and it see
ms it was forgotten about.’
Jenny’s voice was low as they were all by now aware of the appalled expression on Evelyn’s face at hearing their conversation.
‘What we can’t understand is why the charges were dropped or why they were even brought in the first place. But we can’t ask Pauline Barker, can we? Her father would hear of it in no time and realise we were after him.’
Kenneth was quiet, thinking hard.
‘I know he has divorced his wife Mavis and lives with a younger woman these days. I don’t know her name. Perhaps it is this Debbie you spoke of. If you can track down the wife you might strike gold there but she was fecking terrified of him in the past. Everyone I spoke to has an opinion about Barker and they’ll give it to me freely enough but it’s always off the record. Suffice it to say that they all believe he’s bent, he’s bad and he’s protected. He is also dangerous to know. Very dangerous. Has no fear of anyone or anything.’
Kate and Jenny were listening attentively.
‘I can’t believe this, can you?’ Jenny’s voice was high with wonder and disbelief. ‘I mean, how the hell can one person have so much power? How can Barker walk away from everything that he’s done without anyone cottoning on?’
‘You tell me, my little pickaheen,’ Caitlin said soberly. ‘Because we all know he has. This goes to the top of the fecking tree or I’ll eat my boots.’ He looked at Evelyn. ‘Though, if you cooked them, missus, I think they would be eminently edible.’
She didn’t smile at the joke, she was too stunned. Listening to their conversation she had realised for the first time that her daughter was dealing in children’s lives. It was forcibly brought home to her just how many women were willing to sacrifice their children for monetary gain. She could hardly credit that such wickedness went on.
Kenny tactfully changed the subject. ‘I still can’t believe Patrick has come round at last.’
Kate brought him up to date as they finished their meal. Patrick was sleeping now, but at least they knew he was better. He had been lucid this afternoon, still had his memory and all his faculties. Now she just had to get him out of the large hole he had dug for himself.