Flesh and Blood

by Emma Salisbury

  *

  Alex had been about to make another call but decided against it, returning the handset to its cradle before turning to give Coupland her full attention. He was reading through messages scribbled on post it notes that had been left on his desk. He looked up to catch her studying him. ‘How’s Amy?’ she ventured.

  ‘Fine.’

  ‘And the baby?’

  ‘Also fine.’

  ‘And Lynn?’

  Coupland took out his notebook and wrote something in it before returning her gaze. ‘They’re all tickety boo, Alex. Thanks for asking though.’

  Alex narrowed her eyes, snatching up her phone before jabbing at the number pad. The person she was dialling didn’t pick up. She sighed, left a curt message before replacing the handset with more force than was necessary. When Coupland looked up she was glaring in his direction.

  ‘What?’

  ‘I ask you a simple question and in return you shut me down.’

  ‘If I recall it right you asked me three questions and I answered every one of them.’

  ‘So everyone’s fine?’

  Coupland rolled his eyes, ‘I know that’s hard for you to believe, given the bell-end they have to live with, but what more do you want me to say?’ The smile he was trying to conjure up didn’t appear. ‘Christ, you’re turning into my work wife, do you know that, sulking if I don’t respond with War and Peace every time you ask a question.’

  Alex looked as though she’d bitten into something sour. ‘Hardly! I just wanted to know if you and Amy had patched things up, that’s all.’

  Coupland’s mobile rang. He picked it up and glanced at the screen, swiping and stabbing until it was silent once more. ‘There was nothing to patch up, Alex. Amy hasn’t done anything wrong.’

  A sigh. ‘I know that, but you took it hard when you found out Dawson was the baby’s father. I just wondered if you’ve been able to put it behind you.’

  Coupland knew damn well what she’d been alluding to; he just wanted to make her work for his answer. The truth was he didn’t know how he felt. Holding the baby for the first time after Amy brought him home from the hospital had torn him in two. Before then, during the weeks she’d had to traipse back and forth to the neo natal unit while he put on weight, Coupland had driven her, shifts permitting, preferring to wait in the car park until she’d ‘done’. ‘I see tubes and monitors every time I come to this bloody place,’ he’d explained to her. ‘The last thing I want is to see them attached to Sonny Jim.’ She’d accepted his reasoning, it had been Lynn who’d shook her head slightly the first time she’d heard his excuse. He returned Alex’s stare, flashed her one of his brightest smiles, ‘You can’t inherit evil, if that’s what you’re worried about.’ It was a line Lynn had trotted out to him in the early days. His tone was the right side of jovial, enough to make her return to her outbound calls, but not before she’d thrown one last worried look in his direction.

  Coupland read through his emails. The DC who was doing the leg work on the hit and run case had sent him a photograph of a car found abandoned in Tattersall. A Mitsubishi Outlander. The damage on the front of the vehicle was consistent with the injuries sustained by local warehouseman James McMahon two weeks before. The vehicle had been reported stolen the night before the incident, and had now been impounded for forensic examination. It was hard being one step removed from a case, hoping the person dealing with it was just as thorough, just as committed to catching the culprit as he was. It was pompous, he supposed, to think other officers didn’t share his drive for justice, his sense of outrage, his downright bloody anger. He fired back a reply thanking him for the update. Adding that if there was anything he could do to help, he mustn’t hesitate to let him know. Not that he could do anything that wasn’t already being done. But the offer was there.

  Coupland looked up to see Alex putting a tick against something in her notepad indicating she’d completed a task, yet she looked far from satisfied. ‘Problem?’

  Alex shook her head, ‘Not really, just not progressing as much as I’d like. I’m trying to get some back story on that care assistant. Harkins sent me through the application form she’d filled in when she applied for the job, and I’ve been following it up with her previous employer. Her supervisor had nothing but good things to say about her. She said Barbara’s old colleagues would be devastated to hear what had happened. She’d worked there for five years apparently, no issues, then announced one day she was upping sticks and moving on. She’d kept in touch with a couple of the girls, though she didn’t think they’d seen her recently, more high days and holidays, that sort of thing. Oh, and the staff file we got from Harkins doesn’t have any next of kin details in it. I’ve left a message with him to get back to me. I’m guessing it’ll be online and he just hasn’t bothered keeping the paper file up to date.’

  ‘What about the others?’

  ‘Roland Masters had been at Cedar Falls for two years, I’ve spoken to his brother who lives abroad. He was single, no children, his parents are long gone.’

  ‘When did his brother last see him?’

  ‘Two months ago. Said he was happy, though he also said there were visits when Roland didn’t recognise him. He said he was willing to help in any way he could, but, given the circumstances, the information he provided might not be reliable.’

  Coupland nodded his agreement. ‘What about Ellie Soden, the girl who died in hospital?’

  ‘She was a trouble maker in her home town, or at least that’s what I’m hearing from between the lines with her old school. Now she’s dead folk are disinclined to say a bad word about her, but I spoke with her head teacher, who told me that officially Ellie had been diagnosed with ADHD in her early teens but by then she’d already been excluded several times. Said she’d been a handful, if the truth be told. Her guidance teacher was more sympathetic. Said she just wasn’t cut out for school. If she could have left when she hit her teens and gone into a job she enjoyed she probably wouldn’t have kicked off so much but by then the other kids knew which button to press to get a reaction. Her meds weren’t helping to stabilize her – though she suspected she wasn’t taking them, and in the end the school decided it couldn’t take her back. She was placed on an outreach programme in the neighbouring town but it was still two bus rides away and in the end she stopped going. A spell in a behavioural unit followed where she assaulted a member of staff. By then the local authority had got involved and when she started running away from home they stepped in and a place was found for her at Cedar Falls.’

  ‘So this wasn’t the first time she’d been away from home?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Do we know why she started running away?’

  ‘Her parents are next on my list.’

  ‘Tread carefully. Her dad’s still bitter about not being able to take her body back with them. I’m not sure how much he’ll want to engage with you, especially if their answers don’t put them in a good light.’

  ‘Would you rather make contact, if you felt you’d built up a rapport at the hospital?’

  Coupland blew out his cheeks. ‘Hardly. I don’t think he forgives me for being with her at the end. I’ll check with the liaison officer that was assigned to her locally in Birmingham. See if she can’t find out for us.’ Coupland was already scanning the outbound calls he’d made on his phone in the hours after Ellie had died to find the contact number for West Midlands police, hit speed dial before asking to be put through to the officer working with Ellie Soden’s parents. He nodded to Alex when the call was finished. Said, ‘She’s on her way over there, said she’d let me know as soon as she speaks to them.’

  Turnbull and Robinson walked into the CID room carrying sandwiches and takeaway coffees from the café along from the station. ‘We’ve spoken to Alan Harkins,’ Turnbull said, slumping into his chair taking a bite of what looked like hummus on brown bread. ‘Told him we’ve requested a financial report on his bank accounts.’

  ‘How did he tak
e it?’

  Robinson pulled a face. ‘He wasn’t exactly over the moon,’ he answered, pulling a BLT from its triangular packaging. ‘Said he’d been put through the wringer by his ex-missus but had nothing to hide.’

  ‘We’ll find out soon enough,’ Coupland said.

  Alex reached for her bag, slipped in her notepad and phone. ‘Speak of the Devil, Alan Harkins has just emailed Sarah Kelsey’s patient record across. She was only in for a fortnight’s respite care, GP’s orders.’

  ‘Sometimes this job is the gift that keeps on giving,’ Coupland muttered as he got to his feet. ‘You got her home address?’

  ‘Yup.’

  ‘No time like the present, then.’

  *

  Sarah Kelsey lived in a new build terraced house built on the old Willows rugby ground in Weaste two years before. The houses on Sarah’s row had identical grey front doors and covered entrances, with tidy front gardens enclosed by wrought iron fencing. Rhododendron bushes planted along the pavement screened each property from the road.

  Coupland rang the doorbell once, stepping back to survey the front of the house while he waited. The curtains in the downstairs window were still drawn. The sound of a television could be heard when he lifted the flap of the letterbox. ‘What’s the set up?’ he asked Alex, when he rang the doorbell a second time and got no answer.

  Alex pulled a file from her bag. ‘There was no mention of a partner on the emergency contact records,’ she said; skim reading a couple of pages. ‘Just her mother. Maybe she’s taken them out.’

  ‘And left the telly on to put any burglars off?’

  The downstairs curtain parted a fraction as a child poked its head through to peer at them before disappearing at speed, as though someone had come from behind and dragged them away. ‘Think that calls for a third attempt,’ Coupland stated as he reached for the doorbell, holding it down longer than necessary.

  There was a sound of shuffling feet, and a bolt drawing back. The door was opened by a school age girl, primary age going by the height of her, unbrushed hair forming a cloud of frizz around her scalp. ‘I’m not supposed to open the door to strangers,’ she said, studying them. ‘Are you going to tell me the world’s about to end?’

  Coupland stared at her. ‘I’m not with you, love.’

  ‘Nanna says the only people that come to the door are con men and folk selling religion. Con men never wait if you don’t answer when they ring the bell, whereas folk selling religion hang around on the doorstep all day.’

  Coupland leaned forward as he held out his warrant card. Watched her lips move as she read the word ‘Police’. ‘We’re definitely not selling religion, love. But we would like to speak to your nanna or your dad if he’s around?’ Coupland looked behind her into the hall. ‘Could you give them a shout?’ he prompted when she didn’t move.

  The girl shook her head, ‘My dad went off with a tart from the other side of the estate.’ There was no malice in her words, she was merely repeating what she’d heard, no doubt from nanna. ‘My mum is having a nice rest in hospital. Nanna says we can visit if we are good.’ A dark look fell across the girl’s face, as though she’d remembered something.

  ‘It’s OK sweetheart,’ Alex soothed. ‘Can we have a word with your nanna please?’

  The girl’s head dipped as she wrestled with her conscience. ‘Nanna’s at work,’ she said eventually. Just then a toddler wearing a miniature City strip made his way bandy legged down the hall to join his sister. He clutched a puppet that had been made out of an old sock and looked up at Coupland, fascinated.

  ‘Who’s looking after you?’ Coupland asked.

  The girl lifted her chin to answer, though her voice was less confident. ‘Nanna says I’m in charge while she’s at work. It’s only till mummy gets better.’

  ‘Who else is here?’ Alex asked, stepping into the hallway and slipping her arms around both children’s shoulders. The girl took hold of her hand, leading her into the front room, her little brother following, John Wayne style.

  Coupland checked out the downstairs rooms. The kitchen was tidy, the work surfaces had been wiped down and something simmered in a slow cooker. A pasta dish had been left in front of the microwave with instructions how to reheat it written on a post-it note stuck to the microwave door. A pile of papers had been left on the counter top, a utility bill, a reminder for an outstanding catalogue payment.

  ‘Kevin, can you come here?’ Coupland followed the sound of Alex’s voice into the living room. Alex inclined her head towards a doll’s pram in the corner of the room, only it wasn’t a doll inside it, but a baby. ‘She’s fine,’ Alex said before he had time to ask. ‘Apparently Natalie here has given her a bottle.’ She raised her eyebrows as she said this.

  Coupland shifted his gaze round the compact front room. A phone number had been scrawled across the top of an old issue of the radio times.

  ‘Grandma’s mobile number, apparently,’ Alex told him. She moved away from the children, who had clustered round their baby sister forming a human shield. ‘I’ll phone Social Services,’ she sighed, her voice low.

  ‘And I’ll ring granny, tell her to get her arse back here, pronto,’ Coupland replied.

  *

  Donna Chisholm was in her late forties, skinny, overdyed hair tied back in a doughnut shape. She wore a supermarket uniform with a badge on the lapel asking ‘How can I help?’ ‘I’m getting my pay docked for this,’ she hissed at Coupland, before turning her attention to her oldest grandchild. ‘I told you not to answer the bloody door!’

  ‘That’s hardly the point, love,’ Coupland chided. ‘What do you think you’re playing at leaving them?’

  Grandma’s lip curled as she eyed him. ‘Oh, and you’ve got all the answers, have you?’ she said, rounding on him. ‘I told our Sarah I’d keep an eye on them but I’m a bus ride away. I took a few days off work when she first went into hospital but my supervisor wouldn’t give me any more leave. I’m doing the best I can. You have no idea how hard it is trying to deal with three of them. You got kids?’ Both detectives nodded. ‘Imagine your daughter got knocked up by some low life,’ she said, oblivious to the look Alex sent in Coupland’s direction. ‘Only she thinks the way to keep hold of him is to keep having more. He seemed nice enough to start with, reasonable job, company car. Our Sarah was mesmerised, all right, couldn’t run up the aisle fast enough. Then it all went to pot – they came back from honeymoon not speaking – Sarah had caught him chatting up a flight attendant. None of that helped her condition, but she’d been managing it with the meds. Problem was each time she got pregnant she stopped taking it, and each setback was all the harder to recover from with her ever growing brood. To be honest, I was relieved when the slime ball buggered off.’ She sighed, as though remembering she had a little audience with big ears. ‘Natalie’s a good kid,’ she said, relenting, turning to flash her a smile, ‘She wouldn’t let any harm come to her brother and sister, would you love? Besides, their mum will be home at the end of the week.’

  Coupland and Alex exchanged glances. ‘You’ve not seen the news then?’ Alex ventured.

  Donna looked confused. ‘Who has time to watch the news? My phone keeps me up to date with everything I need to know, though we have to leave them in our lockers while we’re working. Why?’

  ‘There’s been a fire at the residential home where your daughter’s been staying,’ Coupland began.

  ‘I’ll take the kids into the kitchen,’ Alex said, eyeing him as she shepherded the children into the other room, ‘see if we can’t find a snack.’

  ‘There’s cookies in the jar by the window,’ Donna told her, her voice belying the fear in her eyes as Coupland closed the door behind them.

  *

  ‘We had to call them,’ Alex said the moment she’d slammed Coupland’s car door shut, keeping pace with him though for all intents and purposes she might as well have been invisible, the attention he was giving her. He’d been silent during the drive back to t
he station, had played Oasis tracks back to back throughout the journey and when he’d switched on the radio had listened to the news without sniping. ‘It’s standard procedure,’ Alex reiterated. ‘You know as well as I do we’ve to call in social services when a child has been placed at risk. They’d been left alone, for God’s sake, we didn’t have any choice.’

  Coupland was gasping for a cigarette but if he lit up now Alex would stay and argue the toss with him and all he wanted was a smoke in peace, a chance to put his thoughts in order. ‘You’re right. We had no choice,’ he agreed.

  Alex looked up at the sky, ‘Finally! So why go quiet on me all of a sudden, as though your nose was out of joint?’

  ‘It had nothing to do with that. Well, not exactly.’ Coupland shook his head, ‘Just got me thinking that’s all.’

  ‘What about?’

  ‘If anything happened to Amy we’d be left with Sonny Jim.’

  Alex regarded him. ‘But it’s not likely is it?’

  Coupland made his eyes go wide. ‘None of us know that, do we? Shit happens, Alex, otherwise you and me would be out of a job.’

  ‘I know, but you can’t dwell on things that might never happen, you’ve got to hope for the best.’

  ‘Thanks for that, Shirley Temple. All I was meaning was God knows who’d crawl out of the woodwork for the lad, making claims on him that for all I know could be held up in court.’

  Coupland’s phone bleeped indicating an incoming text. It was the FLO assigned to Ellie Soden’s parents, telling him she’d spoken to them as he’d asked. ‘I’ll catch you up,’ he said to Alex, thinking he could kill two birds with one stone, ring the FLO back while he lit up. Not quite the peaceful smoke he’d been contemplating, but better than nothing.

  The FLO answered on the third ring, ‘Hang on a minute Sarge,’ her voice all chirpy followed by the sound of doors closing. There was a hissing sound followed by a deep intake of breath. Seemed the FLO was thinking along the same lines as him. ‘It’s a sore point, obviously,’ she began, ‘At the end of the day Ellie kept running away because of something her parents did but there was a reason for it.’