Benson laughed. ‘That’s the sum total of your detection skills, detective sergeant?’
Coupland turned to see Alex studying him. ‘Well…?’ she whispered.
He drew spit up into his dry mouth and swallowed. ‘Medical details are sketchy…but three children also.’
Satisfied that no other information was forthcoming Benson circled the body on the first cutting table, leaning in to consult with Professor Faraday before selecting a scalpel from a row of instruments on a trolley beside him.
Coupland got to his feet. ‘I’ll get in touch with Sarah Kelsey’s GP,’ he said to Alex. ‘Not like we both need to be here.’
Alex nodded.
Benson looked up in time to see Coupland make his way towards the gallery’s exit. ‘Something more pressing you need to attend to?’ A mean smile twisted his mouth out of shape.
Coupland slowed his breathing as he turned to answer, trying to keep his stomach contents where they should be. ‘Isn’t there always,’ he grunted, trying hard but failing not to notice the fragment of bone that had come away in Benson’s hand.
Chapter Ten
Coupland trudged the path to Donna Chisholm’s front door, a well-kept terraced house on Eccles Old Road. Her house was walking distance from Buile Hill Park and there was a primary school nearby if he remembered it right. He guessed Donna’s job at the supermarket had kept her ticking over financially, paid the bills with a bit left over for smokes or prosecco or a night at the bingo. Bringing up three motherless kids was a whole new ballgame.
Standing opposite her in the small kitchen while she scrolled through her phone for the number of her daughter’s medical practice Coupland revised his initial impression of her. On closer inspection there was more grey in her hair than he had first noticed; the makeup she wore failed to disguise the lines around her mouth and the dark circles beneath her eyes. A face changed by tears and guilt.
She found the number she wanted and wrote it down on a scrap of paper. ‘I don’t know how to use this thing properly,’ she said, handing the number to him. ‘Sarah kept offering to show me how to work it but I wasn’t interested.’
‘Paper’s fine,’ Coupland reassured her.
‘The only operation she had was to put pins in her leg after she came off her skateboard when she was a teenager. The GP will tell you more. She was such a tomboy…’
Coupland pocketed the slip of paper, nodding when she pointed to the kettle which had just boiled.
‘I’m up to bloody here with everyone’s sorrow.’ She flattened a hand, held it over the top of her head to emphasise the point. ‘The tone of voice they use to say how sorry they are, the way they tilt their head and wring their hands. Makes me want to puke.’ Coupland knew what she meant. Folk had been much the same while Lynn had been ill. The number of times he’d had to remind them she wasn’t dead yet.
Donna dropped teabags into two cups, adding boiling water into them both and a splash of milk from a carton she sniffed before pouring. She handed Coupland the larger of the two cups, ‘I’m out of sugar,’ she said.
Coupland reached into his jacket pocket for his sweeteners, clicked the dispenser a couple of times before lifting the cup to his lips.
‘I just don’t get it,’ she said. ‘She was only there because I kept telling her to go to the docs. She wasn’t coping. Her GP persuaded her she needed to take some time out to get well. Better to go in willingly than have it forced upon her. Hinting, you know, that other measures may need to be taken if she refused. Fat bloody good it’s done.’
‘Had you been to visit her while she was staying there?’
‘With three kids in tow I don’t think so! Besides, the docs said it was better she had a complete rest, give her a chance to recharge her batteries….’ The lines around Donna’s eyes deepened. ‘It was only supposed to be for a couple of weeks.’
Coupland nodded, ‘I just wondered if she’d made friends with any of the other patients, if she’d mentioned someone in particular.’
Donna was already shaking her head. ‘She told me she intended to keep herself to herself. She didn’t see much point in bothering with any of the nutters, as she called them. She was deluded like that, couldn’t accept there was anything wrong with her own state of mind so there was no way she was going to mix with anyone whose symptoms might be a bit too close to home.’
‘And the staff? How did she get on with them?’
Donna shrugged. ‘She never said anything, so I’m guessing that’s a good thing, right?’ Donna studied Coupland. ‘When they first go in they’re not allowed to ring home for a while, you know that don’t you?’
Coupland didn’t but nodded anyway.
‘It’s so they can get acclimatised, I suppose. New surroundings, new routine. It’s just that… it meant when she was allowed to phone home she wanted to hear about the kids, wanted me to put Natalie on the phone to her so they could talk. She wasn’t interested in telling me about her day.’
Coupland’s tea was cool enough for him to take several gulps. He placed his empty cup on the draining board, nodding his thanks. ‘What would you want them to do?’ he asked. ‘The head tilters and hand wringing brigade. What would you rather they did?’
Donna didn’t need to think about it. ‘Offer to do things for the kids, the odd lift here and there. Practical things. Maybe then they wouldn’t be going into care.’ Her face hardened then, mouth twisting with the helplessness of it. It took Coupland a second or two to process what she’d said. ‘They’ve been made wards of court,’ Donna explained when she saw his confusion. ‘I’m not fit enough apparently, to have them in my care.’
A rock formed in Coupland’s stomach. Cold and hard. ‘I thought it was temporary foster care, while you got sorted?’ For the second time that afternoon his mouth ran dry.
Donna gave him a strange look. ‘And how do I get sorted? This is my life, how I’ve lived since Sarah left home. The irony is I’ve now lost my job. I had to take time off work to wait for the social worker, only the store manager didn’t like that one little bit. Apparently I’ve had too much time off in recent weeks. So here I am rattling around, I could be with them all the time now but it’s too bloody late. Anyway, there’s a case review next month. Complete strangers will decide on my grandkids’ future.’ She turned away then, whether to spare him her tears or shield him from her expression he couldn’t be sure. ‘Thing is, I’m too old to take them on. Who in their right mind would go back to nappies at my age? Probably better I let them go. Easier, you know, in the long run.’ Her eyes glistened, making her eyeliner smudge. He could tell she didn’t mean it, that it was bravado to mask the pain. He pictured Tonto being driven away in the middle of the night. The image made his throat constrict. ‘Probably,’ he agreed, not knowing what else to say.
*
The call to Sarah Kelsey’s medical centre confirmed she’d fractured her leg in adolescence. Her GP emailed Coupland an x-ray of the repair, highlighting the location of the titanium pins used. Coupland let out a breath as he forwarded the email to Alex. At least he was off the hook having to supply information about Barbara Howe without giving away the fact that she was his mother. He might have swerved that bullet for the time being, though he was under no illusion another would aiming towards him any time soon.
*
Coupland had done a fourteen-hour day by the time he pulled up outside his front door. He couldn’t recall the journey. Had no recollection of his nightly commute which normally involved hammering his fist on the car’s horn or swearing at tailgaters. Maybe the God of traffic lights had been on his side for once, greenlighting him all the way. His head felt numb, the kind of numbness amputees felt after losing a limb.
An arson attack on this scale was a major inquiry; the gangland connection meant he had to tread with care. Suspects were being hunted down and beaten. And his mother? Where did she fit into all this? He’d spent the day sifting through information, examining evidence, prioritising actions. At l
east now DCI Mallender was back he didn’t have to waste his time briefing Superintendent Curtis. He wasn’t paid enough to couch his words, to gloss over specifics in favour of helicopter views. But how could he deal with this? With any of it?
His sisters needed telling that their mother had been found. He wondered if found was even the right word. It wasn’t as if they’d been looking for her. Not once the realisation had sunk in that she’d gone of her own accord. That she wanted a future that didn’t have them in it. He’d thought knowing she was dead would hurt more. Was it possible to miss what you’d never had?
Coupland looked at the clock on his dashboard radio and sighed. He was knackered. Didn’t have the energy for a barrage of questions he’d be unable to answer. Tomorrow was a rest day. He’d tell his sisters then. Give him a chance to get his head around it.
The clouds moved, covering a half-hearted moon, plunging the street into darkness. He’d have to inform DCI Mallender, too. But the boss would assign the case to someone else and that someone would learn things about his mother that they might not pass on. Foibles, character flaws, likes and dislikes. He’d be robbed of her all over again. And if he didn’t tell the boss? Another disciplinary when the truth came out. A pinging noise signalled an incoming email. He reached for his phone, tapped onto the email icon. The fire officer had sent through his report. His message was to the point: “Although there were no signs of forced entry, thin lines of severe burning were found along the corridor and landing, indicating a trail of accelerant had been laid down. The culprit used lighter fuel, and concentrated their effort on the bedrooms I have indicated in the attached plan. As I feared, any significant forensic evidence regarding the culprit was destroyed in the fire. The team lifted a couple of prints but that’s your lot I’m afraid. Your man or woman seemed to know what they were doing.” Coupland didn’t bother opening the attachment, he forwarded it to Krispy to print out and run through the database first thing.
By the time Coupland put his key in the lock the house was cloaked in darkness. They kept baby hours now, sleeping when Tonto slept, that, or the TV would be on low, flickering images that no one paid attention to as they listened out for his lordship to awaken. Lynn was in bed, eyelids heavy; a faint smile told him all was good. He threw his clothes over the chair in the corner, picked up a t-shirt and jersey shorts before heading for the shower. The water felt cold, despite him turning the dial up to scalding. It was the shock, he supposed, that made him shiver. He let the droplets run over him, turning his skin red. Some detective he’d turned out to be. His mother had been living and working right under his nose yet he’d had no idea. No gut instinct alerting him to her presence, or any tingling to warn him she was in danger, that harm had befallen someone he’d loved. Now she lay in the city mortuary, a pile of ash and bone. He closed his eyes. Of all the ways he’d imagined their reunion, seeing her on a pathologist’s table hadn’t been one of them. He opened them again. Shook his head from side to side. Life had a funny way of taking the piss. Of putting up speed bumps in the road ahead. He should be thankful. He knew that much. He had a wife that loved him most of the time, a daughter not addicted to crack and a grandson that was growing on him daily. So why did it feel like there was a stone in his stomach? A bloody heavy one at that.
He sighed, turning the dial to ‘off’ before stepping out of the shower to dry himself. He threw on his night clothes before turning to stare in the mirror above the sink, running his hands over the day’s stubble. The face staring back at him was older than the one he pictured in his mind’s eye when he thought about how he looked to others. He looked worn. In his head he was 25, hard muscle and attitude. The attitude was there still and some of the muscle, but there were lines around his eyes that nothing would erase.
He stepped out onto the landing. Paused. Took a peep inside Tonto’s nursery. The baby was asleep in his cot, blanket kicked away, arms and legs akimbo as though he’d spent the evening on jagerbombs before calling it a night. ‘Time enough for all that,’ Coupland muttered, as he stepped into the room, switching the baby monitor to silent before leaning in close. Babies did have a smell, Lynn was right about that, a smell that was clean and pure, that suggested the future was a bright one. He homed in over the baby’s face, inhaling as far as his lungs would allow, taking in the scent of him. If the boy was aware of Coupland’s presence he didn’t show it. His chest rose and fell to its own rhythm. Had his own mother done this, Coupland wondered, slipped into his childhood bedroom to watch him sleep? She’d have been too tired, he reasoned, three kids to look after and an old man that didn’t do a hand’s turn. By the time he came along she’d have been worn down, maybe already fantasising about a new life, Reggie Perrin style. ‘Come on Tonto,’ Coupland whispered, ‘help me out here.’ He tickled the baby’s tummy, making him wriggle, kept on tickling until two sleepy eyes stared up at him. For a split second it looked as though he was going to cry. ‘I’m not the Bogey Man,’ Coupland said quickly, though in truth folk had called him a lot worse. He pulled a face then; the kind people do when there’s a baby about and no one else is looking, making his eyes go wide and sticking his tongue out. Tonto’s lip stopped trembling and he made a gurgling sound that resembled a laugh. ‘That’s more like it,’ Coupland acknowledged, scooping the boy up into his arms. Tonto fitted into Coupland’s shoulder like he’d been measured for it, and as he held him with one hand, the other stroking the soft down on his head, a thought occurred to him. Amy was their entire world, and now he was holding hers. He held the boy closer, shutting out the kaleidoscope of images that flashed through his mind, different ways one person could inflict harm upon another. All the bastards he’d need protecting from. A nerve in Coupland’s neck pulsated. ‘You know kid, in the grand scheme of things I’m nothing more than a caretaker. Keeping the world in check till you’re ready to navigate it.’ He thought of the pain that had leaked into his own childhood. Of the darkness that lay dormant in Tonto’s soul. The thought that his grandson’s blueprint for life was already mapped out scared the hell out of him. The child was loved; what he did with that love was up to him.
‘I didn’t hear him wake.’ Lynn’s voice was sleepy; she pulled her dressing gown around her, tying the belt at her waist. ‘Though I did hear your bloody phone bleep.’
‘Sorry,’ Coupland said, cocking an eyebrow. ‘I’d have been through sooner but this one started scrikin’ the minute I walked past.’
Lynn glanced at the monitor. ‘S’funny, thought Amy would have heard him.’
Coupland stepped in front of it. ‘I turned it down once I picked him up, no point disturbing her.’
Lynn nodded. Leaning against the doorjamb she told him about her day; hospital politics, what she’d watched on TV, the broken down bus that had made her journey home a pain in the backside. Coupland joined in here and there, trying to disguise the fact he had other things on his mind.
Lynn held out her arms. ‘It’s OK, I’ll take him, you must be shattered.’
Coupland shook his head. ‘Nah, got a bit of shut eye in the canteen, I can stay with this one for a while, you go back to bed.’
‘You sure?’ she asked, failing to disguise the relief in her voice. Satisfied, she turned to leave, but not before pausing in the doorway. ‘He seems to like that.’
Coupland frowned at her. ‘What?’
‘You, stroking his head like that.’
He looked down at his hand cupping the boy’s skull. ‘Just checking him for horns,’ he shot back, ignoring the look she sent in his direction. ‘I did get a smile out of him though,’ he said, remembering. ‘Just before I picked him up he looked at me and beamed.’
Lynn’s brow creased. ‘I thought you said he’d been crying.’
‘He had, but one look at me and he was smiling, I promise you.’
‘It’s just wind, Kev,’ she laughed, ‘seems to be the one trait he’s inherited from his grandad.’
Coupland’s face dropped. ‘Christ, there’s a thought
,’ he said, looking her up and down, ‘I’m sleeping with a granny.’
Lynn pursed her lips. ‘Only if you’re very lucky Kev,’ she threw back before returning to their room.
Coupland stared down at Tonto and tutted. ‘Wind! What does she know? You inherited a lot more from me than hot air. You’ve got my scintillating wit and good looks for a start…’
Tonto stared up at Coupland, arching his back in reply before making a fart sound so long and satisfying Coupland knew a nappy change would be essential.
Tuesday - Rest Day
Chapter Eleven
The phone on Coupland’s bedside table rang causing him to huff out a sigh. He reached out an arm to grab at it, glancing one-eyed at the screen. Alex. Aware that she’d only call him on a rest day if she had a damned good reason, he picked up the phone.
‘Sorry for the early call but seeing as you didn’t reply to my text last night I wanted to check you’d got my message.’
‘What? Oh…’ Coupland remembered Lynn grumbling that his mobile had pinged, but by the time he’d changed and settled Tonto he’d fallen into bed exhausted, not bothering to check his phone.
‘I thought you’d want to hear this from me. It’s about Barbara.’
Coupland slid a sideways long glance at Lynn beside him, was already easing himself out from under the covers when she stirred.
‘What time is it?’ she mumbled, raising her head off the pillow as she squinted at him.
‘Go back to sleep, you’ve got another hour,’ he soothed, stepping back from the bed before heading out onto the landing. He closed the bedroom door quietly, careful to tiptoe past Tonto’s room before asking Alex to give him a minute while he padded downstairs.
He stepped out onto the patio while he lit himself a cigarette, moving from one foot to the other in an attempt to keep his feet warm. ‘This about yesterday’s PM?’ he asked, wishing he’d stopped to put socks on. ‘Do the IDs not match?’
Flesh and Blood Page 15