“I take it you know what your mum wants to talk to me about?” Paolo said, raising his voice to be heard over the noise of a child screaming because her neighbour had poured juice over her head.
Katy just smiled in response and shrugged as if to say there was no point in saying anything.
“Shall we go and sit outside the cinema? I can’t bear this noise any longer,” Paolo said, feeling like a grouchy old man and hoping that wasn’t who he’d turned into.
Katy nodded and they gathered up their belongings. As soon as he was outside the restaurant, Paolo let out a sigh of relief. Even the noises echoing around the complex, which appeared to be entirely made up of kids screaming and parents yelling, seemed quiet compared to where they’d just been. They walked over to the area outside the cinema entrance and sat down on a wooden slatted bench opposite the posters displaying the films on show.
“So, which one?” Paolo asked. “Are you going for too young for both of us, but cute? Too old for you, but the film you’re determined to see? Or the family adventure that promises to entertain all age groups from five to a hundred and five?”
Katy laughed. “None of the above. We’re going to watch the all-action spy film.”
Paolo was so surprised he nearly fell off the bench as he spun towards Katy. “You’re having me on, right?”
“Nope,” Katy said, grinning at him.
“Okay, I know I’m going to regret asking, but why the spy film? Or are you picking that because you know it’s the one I’d like to see?”
“I love you, Dad, but not that much. I picked it because of the drop dead gorgeous Matt Damon who’s playing the secret agent.”
For the first time ever in his dealings with Katy, Paolo was speechless. He hadn’t even realised she was interested in boys, far less ready to drool over a man at least twenty years older than her and probably even older than that. Fortunately for him, Katy had moved on to a new topic, so he didn’t need to comment.
“I’ve been keeping close tabs on the girl I told you about. So far, Father Creepy hasn’t been near her. Have you got someone watching him?”
Paolo wondered if Katy would accept him speaking to Father Gregory as having done enough. From the way Greg had spoken, it seemed fairly clear that the girl had told him something in the confessional that he couldn’t repeat. But would Katy believe that?
“I bet I know who it is.”
“Know who what is?”
Katy laughed. “The person watching Father Creepy of course. Don’t worry, I won’t let on to anyone.”
“Look, Katy, I wanted to explain to you, but haven’t had chance yet. I can’t put anyone in to watch Father Gregory. I don’t have any evidence to tie him in to a crime.”
To his surprise Katy squeezed his arm and winked. “It’s okay, Dad. I know you can’t tell me who it is, but I’ve already worked it out. It’s the new caretaker, Mr Shaw, isn’t it?”
Bewildered, Paolo shook his head. “I didn’t even know the school had taken on a new caretaker.”
Katy grinned and stood up. “Nice try, Dad. Don’t worry, I won’t let on to Mr Shaw that I’ve twigged. Shall we go and watch the film?”
In the car on the way home Paolo remembered that Katy hadn’t answered his question about whether or not she knew what Lydia intended to discuss with him. He was tempted to raise it again, but then decided it wasn’t fair to Lydia.
As they stopped outside the house, she opened the car door and pulled out her phone.
“You’re coming in, right, Dad? Okay, I’ll see you before you go. I have to let Jenny know which film I’ve just seen. She is going to be sooooo jealous.”
She towards the house, already deep in conversation before she’d even reached the front door. Paolo pressed the locking button on his car keys and followed her in. He was just in time to see her disappear into her room at the top of the stairs as he closed the door behind him.
“Lydia,” he called out. “We’re back.”
She came out of the lounge, smiled and nodded towards the room she’d just left. “I’ve got a fresh pot of coffee in the kitchen. Take a seat through there and I’ll go and fetch it.”
Paolo went in and sat on the sofa. Looking around he realised the place had never stopped feeling like home to him. All the photographs, ornaments, even the furniture, had stories behind each piece. Memories of good times and bad. It suddenly hit him how much he wanted that life back again. Not just being with Lydia, but turning back the clock to how things were before Sarah’s accident.
Lydia coming in with the coffee on a tray broke his reverie. He wasn’t sorry to put those thoughts behind him. It was time to move on, not look back. He smiled at Lydia as she handed him a mug.
“So, what is it you want to talk about?” he asked, settling back against the cushions.
“I’m not sure where to start really,” she said, looking more nervous than he’d ever seen her.
“Relax, Lydia. We’ve known each other too long for you to be nervous of telling me anything. Whatever you have to say will be fine by me.”
She smiled. “I hope so. Paolo, Katy needs stability in her life. She’s in danger of going off the rails. This business at school and the way she acts with me are sure signs she’s not happy with the way things are. No, don’t say anything yet,” she said as Paolo moved forward on the couch. “Seeing you here on Saturdays, or going out for a few hours with her every second week isn’t enough. She loves you, Paolo, you know that, and she needs to spend more time with you.”
Paolo felt like singing, except that he had a dreadful voice. “Lydia, you don’t have to-”
“No, Paolo, let me finish. I’m also not happy with the way things are. I need love in my life. I’m not someone who wants the single life. You know me well enough to understand that. And I can’t believe for one minute that you actually enjoy living in that horrible bedsit.”
“Lydia, just say it. Whatever changes you want to make to the way things are, just tell me.”
As he said the words Paolo thought about packing his belongings and moving home. It wouldn’t take him more than a couple of hours to get his stuff together. He smiled at Lydia, but she seemed to be having difficulty getting her words out. He leaned over towards the armchair where she was sitting and took her hand.
“It’s okay. I agree with you. I can’t wait to move from the bedsit.”
She smiled and squeezed his hand. “Great, but how soon do you think you’ll be able to find somewhere better?”
He sat back, shock freezing his brain as Lydia continued speaking.
“You’ll need to have at least two bedrooms so that Katy can stay with you for a full weekend. She says she’d like to come over on Friday evenings and stay until Sunday. I told her I didn’t think you’d have a problem with that.”
“Lydia, sorry, I’m confused. You said you needed love in your life and I thought...”
Lydia’s face turned ashen. “Oh God, Paolo, I’m so sorry. You thought I meant we, that is, you, me. Oh God, I’m sorry.”
Paolo’s heart drummed faster, so fast that he felt sick. “I thought you meant for me to move back in. So why .. who...? Sorry, I can’t seem to think straight.”
She looked down at her jeans and pulled at a loose thread until it came out. When she looked up Paolo thought she’d never looked more distressed – or more desirable.
“I want us to start divorce proceedings. Jack has asked me to marry him and I’ve said yes. I want to sell this house, Paolo, and move in with him.”
“But, I hadn’t even realised he was still on the scene. You never mention him, neither does Katy. How’s she going to feel about this?”
Lydia shrugged. “Katy is fine with the idea as long as she still gets to spend time with you. She said she’s okay about Jack, but that you’ll always come first with her. As for not mentioning him to you, I think Katy and I must have avoided talking about him for the same reason. We didn’t want to hurt you.” She sighed. “Obviously, once we mo
ve, it would be a bit awkward for you to come to his home, our new home, to visit Katy as often you do here. But it will be better all round once you have a new place and Katy can stay with you for weekends and such like. Katy will see more of you, not less.”
Paolo put up his hand to stop the flow of Lydia’s words. She was babbling. She always did that when she was nervous. He couldn’t bear the thought of her being married to anyone else, but he had to say something. He had to pull himself together and get out. He stood up on legs that felt too shaky to hold him, but was determined to leave with whatever dignity remained.
“I’m, er, I’m going now. I’m fine with whatever you want to do. Tell Katy I said goodbye, will you?”
He walked to the front door. Held himself together until he’d climbed in the car and driven around the corner. Then he pulled over, switched off the engine, laid his head on the steering wheel and wept.
CHAPTER 15
Paolo walked through the main room, barely nodding at colleagues as he passed, and headed towards the safety of his office. Mondays were bad enough at the best of times – and this was hardly the best of times. He’d spent the rest of the weekend in his bedsit, squirming after his humiliating conversation with Lydia. Eventually he’d come to the realisation that she was right – they all had to move on, but right now that felt more of a challenge than he could cope with. Work was the answer. If he submerged himself in his cases then he could push his messed up personal life into the background for a while.
He reached the door of his office, but stopped as he heard footsteps behind him. He turned to find CC grinning at him.
“Morning, sir,” she said. “We’ve got Denada in the interview room looking through some photographs of tall, dark, handsome men.”
“Sorry, who?”
“She’s the young prostitute who saw Mandy Ward get into the car, sir. Her English isn’t very good, but we’ve got across what we need from her. We’ve put a recent picture of Matthew Roberts in a book of mug shots, so it’ll be interesting to see what happens.”
Paolo had difficulty concentrating on CC’s words. Not enough sleep and too much thinking had left him with a headache to beat anything he’d ever experienced, but he managed to force a smile.
“Great. Thanks, CC. Let me know when she’s done with the photofit profiler. I can’t wait to get a glimpse of who we’re looking for.”
When CC left, Paolo sat staring into space, as he had for all of Saturday night and most of Sunday. His mind kept asking the same stupid question – how could he have made such a complete bollocks of his life?
When CC came back an hour later, he hadn’t moved an inch. The cup of coffee on his desk had gone cold long before, but he picked it up and pretended to take a sip. Anything to appear normal.
“We’ve got a problem, sir. Our girl is fixated on Matthew Robert’s photo and we can’t seem to get through to her that we need to make changes to it to make a mock up of the person she actually saw.”
Paolo stood up. “I’ll come down to the interview room. We might need to bring in an interpreter. See who we have available, please, CC.”
He followed CC from his office into the main room and looked around, suddenly realising Dave was nowhere to be seen.
“Anyone know where Dave is this morning?” he asked the room at large, but the answers were all in the negative.
Making a mental note to call Dave later, Paolo carried on to the interview room. The young prostitute didn’t look any older than sixteen, but she seemed completely at ease, which surprised him, but maybe she was being treated better in the nick than on the streets.
“Good morning, Denada,” he said. “I believe you’ve found a photo of someone who looks like the man you saw in the car when Mandy Ward disappeared. We need you to tell us how to change the photo so that it looks exactly like the man. Can you do that for us?”
“Sorry? How change? Is man on TV.”
Paolo pulled out the chair from the table and sat opposite her. “Yes, I know that’s the man from television, but...”
“No, is man. Is not like man. Is man.”
Paolo smiled to show he understood. “I understand that’s the man you’ve seen on tv, but we need to change his image so that he looks like...”
Denada grinned, showing teeth in desperate need of a good dentist, and pointed at Matthew’s photo.
“Is not like. Is him.”
“You think the man who picked up your friend was this man?”
“Po!” she said, nodding vigorously. “Po! Is not like. Have seed man. On TV.”
Paolo sighed and stood up. He turned to CC who’d just come into the interview room. “Any joy with locating an interpreter?”
“Yes, sir. That’s what I came to tell you. He’ll be here in about half an hour.”
“Fine, thanks, CC. Let me know when he arrives. I’ll be in my office. In the meantime, can you organise another cup of coffee for this young lady?”
As he walked back along the corridor he pulled out his phone and speed dialled Dave’s number. After several rings it went to voicemail, so he left a message for Dave to call him back. It was strange, Dave was annoying in many ways, but he’d always shown up for work and was never late.
Paolo stopped by the coffee machine on his way to his office. The first cup had gone cold and he now really needed a caffeine fix. Just as he was about to pick up the cup his phone rang.
“Sterling.”
“Morning, sir. Sorry I’m late. I had a bit of an accident over the weekend, nothing serious. I’m on my way in.”
“An accident? What happened?”
The silence from the other end of the line told Paolo that Dave was thinking about how to answer. He decided to save him the trouble of thinking up a lie.
“No need to tell me, as long as you’re okay.”
“I’m fine, sir. Just injured my back a bit, that’s all. I’ll be there in about twenty minutes.”
Dave arrived just before the Albanian interpreter, Gazmend Dushku, so Paolo didn’t have chance to check that Dave wasn’t seriously injured by whatever had happened to him. The three men went to the interview room, picking up the photofit profiler en route.
After everyone had been introduced, Paolo asked the interpreter to explain to Denada what they needed from her. Warren, the profiler, sat next to Denada and set out the various pieces he would need to create an image according to her instructions.
Denada barely looked up as Gazmend Dushku spoke to her. She seemed almost more ill at ease with a fellow Albanian than she had with the police. Paolo wondered if she felt embarrassed by her way of life and wished he could speak her language enough to show he sympathised with her. None of these kids wanted to be out on the streets.
Gazmend spoke rapidly, pointing first to the photo of Matthew and then to Warren. As he did so, Denada looked at him briefly and then pointed once more to Matthew’s photograph. The Albanian spoke again, this time his voice was sterner and he jabbed his finger towards Warren. Denada shook her head, leaned away from the table and crossed her arms.
“Is there a problem?” Paolo asked.
“Yes, is problem,” said Denada, looking scared. She then let rip with a stream of Albanian.
The interpreter shook his head. “She thinks you’re trying to trick her.”
Paolo looked at Denada. “Why do you think that? We simply want you to help us make a likeness of the man you saw. Can you help us do that?”
He looked over at the interpreter who translated Paolo’s words. As Gazmend spoke, Denada stood up, snatched Matthew’s photo from the table and threw it at Paolo, all the time yelling in Albanian. Bewildered, he looked to the interpreter to explain.
“It seems that Denada believes that this man is the man she saw. Not someone like him. Not even someone very close in looks to him, but that man himself. She says she recognised him because she’d seen him on television the night before he picked up her friend. She won’t budge from that.” Gazmend smiled. “I can under
stand your confusion, Mr Sterling. I recognised Matthew Roberts’ photo when I first came in. He does a lot to help minorities in this town, so I have had some contact with him through various committees. He is one of the most decent men I’ve ever met. I don’t envy you having to follow up on this because it is almost certainly a waste of your time. However, Denada insists that Matthew Roberts is the man she saw driving off with her friend.”
Paolo thanked Gazmend for his help and asked Dave to show him and Denada out. They had her details. If necessary they could always bring her back in again. He’d have to pay a visit to Matthew, find out where he was on the night Mandy Ward disappeared, but it wouldn’t be more than a formality surely. One thing was certain though, whoever drove away with Ms Ward must look amazingly like Matthew Roberts.
Paolo was sitting at his desk by the time Dave came back from his escort duty. As he came in, Paolo noticed that Dave’s face was covered in a film of sweat and he was holding himself stiffly, as if his back was painful when he moved. When he sat down gingerly, Paolo was sure the other man was suffering from chronic pain.
“Should you be here, Dave? You’re clearly suffering.”
Dave winced. “I’m fine, sir. What do you make of our witness? She seems pretty convinced.”
Paolo sighed. “I know. I’ve just been trying out a few sentences in my mind, wondering if I can get to the end of even one of them before Matthew Roberts sues me individually and the force as an institution.”
“We have to follow up on it, though, don’t we?” Dave asked, moving as if trying to find a more comfortable position.
Paolo looked through the phone book, then picked up his phone and pressed the numbers. “We sure do,” he said as he listened to the ringing tone. Then he held up a hand to Dave to signal not to speak. “Good morning, could you put me through to Mr Roberts, please. Ah, okay, thank you. I wonder if you would be kind enough to ask him to call me as soon as possible. My name is Sterling, Paolo Sterling.”
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