Dark Memories

by Liz Mistry

  Her stomach contracted – she hadn’t realised Saj thought that she was like her dad. She opened her mouth but Saj lifted one hand from the steering wheel. ‘No, Nik. Let me finish. What I think you inherited from your dad was a greater understanding of evil and that has made you the best detective I know. What you endured growing up – and I suspect you only told Langley and me the bare minimum – has shaped you. It’s made you empathetic to victims. It’s given you a moral compass that makes you able to swerve a little to make sure we get justice. Yes, you’re hard to get to know, rough round the edges, prickly and downright rude on occasion – but those who know you well, understand that all of that comes from a good place. So, in answer to your question – my money goes on the nurture side every time. That’s the reason you’re not like your dad. Although …’ his grin took the sting out of his next words ‘… let’s face it, you do have issues.’

  He glanced at her wristband. ‘And so does Anika – but the reason you’re not like him is that throughout all that you endured, your mum tried to nurture you, to shield you – to teach you right from wrong, and ultimately tried to put you first.’

  Saj indicated to overtake a truck and Nikki used that as cover to wipe another errant tear from her eye. Come on, Nikki, get a damn grip. You don’t do tears.

  ‘As for your brood – well, Charlie has inherited her mother’s prickliness, Ruby, her mother’s sarcasm and Sunni, Marcus’s sunny disposition – they’re normal happy kids – they’re not, in any way, shape or form like Downey. So, I’m telling you right now, Parekh, you put that damn thought right out of your head, so we can crack on with working out what these messages are all about.’

  Nikki pouted for a bit, mulling over Saj’s words. Then: ‘Soooo … I’m prickly and sarcastic – which my daughters have inherited from me, yet Sunni’s “joyful temperament” you attribute to Marcus? Wow.’

  ‘Just saying it like it is, Nik. Just saying it like it is.’

  Laughing, Nikki punched his arm. ‘I can do joyful …’ she pursed her lips and thought about what she’d just said and added ‘… well, at the very least I can manage slight enthusiasm. Got to balance out Marcus’s overenthusiastic personality somehow.’

  A belly laugh filled the car and Nikki, smiling, rested her head on the doorframe and snoozed all the way back to Bradford.

  Saturday 19th September

  Chapter 23

  A rainbow over the M62 raised Nikki’s spirits. Despite all the evil and nastiness in the world, there was also beauty and it was well worth her time to notice it and savour it – even if it was a Saturday and the kids had moaned about her taking off for the morning. Only promises of a trip to Temple Newsam farm in the afternoon had pacified them. She crossed her arms over her chest and sneaked a glance at her partner. ‘Can’t you make this heap go any faster? My Zafira would be quicker.’

  With that, Saj increased his speed, overtook a caravan and then glared at her in mock annoyance. ‘You see that manoeuvre I just did? Well, in your Zafira we’d end up with the exhaust in the middle of the motorway and our arses on the concrete.’

  Throwing her head back, Nikki laughed and enjoyed the rest of the drive.

  Ten minutes later when they reached the street where Liam Flynn’s parents lived in Ashton-under-Lyne, just outside Manchester, they parked up and took a few minutes to study the area. A row of three-bedroom Lancashire terraced houses, similar to the ones in Bradford, sat right on the pavement with no front gardens. Most of the doors were painted blues and reds; a few were plain wood, but the one Nikki and Saj were looking for was green. Unlike the other houses, which all had net curtains or blinds for privacy, the Flynns’ living-room curtains were closed tight. Nikki wasn’t sure if that was their habit for extra privacy from passers-by or a result of being hounded by journalists since Liam’s death.

  A few cars and a van with a comic logo of two men fighting over a stepladder, with a pot of paint ready to tip onto their heads, lined either side of the road. Nikki wasn’t entirely sure the image would encourage her to employ “Paint for U”. Small wheelie bins stood neatly next to each of the doors. Nikki looked for a bell, but unable to find one, resorted to slamming the knocker a few times. Sajid had phoned the son Johnny Flynn earlier and despite his obvious reluctance, Saj had insisted on this visit. When there were no immediate signs of activity inside, Nikki wondered if they’d elected to go out to avoid this interview. She grabbed the knocker and again rapped hard. After a few seconds there was movement from indoors and Nikki exhaled a breath of relief. She would have been well pissed off if their trip into Lancashire had been a wasted journey.

  Nikki recognised the figure who opened the door. It was Liam Flynn’s eldest brother Johnny – the one who had taken over the role of family spokesperson for the public media appeal the Cambridgeshire police had instigated. Having watched the appeal and seen the online news report photo that she’d been sent, Nikki was surprised by his appearance. Gone were the suit, shirt and tie, replaced by paint-stained overalls open to the waist, an equally stained T-shirt and a faint whiff of sweat. Since the public appeal, Johnny had allowed rough stubble to grow over his chin and had clearly neglected to wash his hair, since a greasy fringe flopped listlessly over his forehead. His eyes were red-rimmed, whether from grief or drink, Nikki was unsure. However, when he spoke, his alcohol-tinged breath confirmed the second option – or perhaps a combination of both.

  The man had just lost his younger brother and alcohol was an easy self-medication. After her daughter Charlie’s dad disappeared, Nikki had had a week of drowning her sorrows, before the reality of her pregnancy with her eldest daughter sunk in and she got control of herself.

  ‘Yeah?’

  Okay so it’s going to be like that, is it? Nikki and Saj showed him their IDs as she introduced them, making sure to keep her voice pleasant – for now. ‘We have an appointment to meet with your parents, Mr Flynn – or can I call you Johnny?’

  With his hand still protectively holding the door half shut, Johnny Flynn glowered at them. ‘They’re not in.’

  Despite her irritation at the dance she felt obliged to partake in with Johnny-obstructive-Flynn, Nikki forced a smile to her lips. ‘We’ll just come in and wait for them, thanks.’ And she took a step towards the door, which Johnny immediately closed another few inches.

  ‘No point. They’re away.’

  Sajid now stepped forward in line with Nikki. ‘I made the appointment with you to meet with your parents this morning and you agreed.’ He too kept his voice pleasant, but his brown eyes had darkened and there was an edge to his smile.

  ‘You didn’t.’ Johnny glared at Sajid, shaking his head to emphasise his denial.

  ‘I most certainly did, Mr Flynn, and you agreed.’

  ‘Nope. You said you wanted to speak to my parents and the rest of the family and could you come this morning and I said yes.’

  Nikki, sensing Saj’s frustration, jumped in. ‘And here we are – on your doorstep, as arranged, to meet with you, your parents and the rest of the family.’

  He shrugged, and shuffled forward, so that he stood on the doorstep, the door behind him, sliding to only a couple of inches ajar. ‘I said yes you could come this morning. Didn’t say anything about you meeting anyone – just that it’s a free country and you coppers do what you like anyway. Lucky to have caught me – just stopped back to change into clean overalls.’

  Catching another whiff of sweat, Nikki thought that a shower seemed more of a priority than a change of clothes. She studied him. Why was he so reluctant to let them into his home? According to Cambridgeshire police, the Flynns cooperated fully with them, although Davy had said the parents were a bit vague – a bit reserved – so what had changed? Why the barriers now? Realising that Johnny was playing semantics with them, Nikki, smile still in place, said, ‘Well, it’s fortunate that we caught you then, isn’t it? We’ll just come in and …’ As she reached out her hand to push the door open, Johnny grabbed her wrist.
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br />   Saj stepped forward, but Nikki flashed him an “I’ll deal with this” look. She looked pointedly from her wrist with his nicotine-stained fingers gripping it, to his face. Eyebrows pulled together, and at closer proximity to him, the speckles of pale blue paint that dappled his brows and fringe were apparent. The body odour stronger. ‘Do you really want to go down the road of assaulting a police officer, Mr Flynn?’

  His mouth worked, but his grip on her wrist loosened before finally falling to his side. ‘I’ve got five minutes, that’s all.’ And he turned through the door, allowing them access to a hallway with two rooms leading off it and a staircase to the left. Blocking the staircase, he motioned for them to head straight through to the kitchen at the end.

  Glancing round the room, Nikki pulled out one of the dining room chairs that were positioned round a wooden table. The room was clean and fresh – dishes all washed, dried and put away – not really what she’d expected judging by Johnny’s appearance if he was home alone. ‘Only you at home then?’

  Leaning against the sink, no offer of tea or coffee forthcoming, Johnny glared at her. ‘I live with my mum and dad.’

  ‘Yes, but you told us they were away just now. That right?’

  ‘Yeah. Mum’s been upset since Liam – you know – crying and stuff, depressed, not sleeping and she’s had to see the doctor and he’s given her pills. So Dad took her away for a few days – cheer her up, like – somewhere sunny.’ All the time he spoke, his fingers tapped the unit behind him, and he kept glancing everywhere except right at Nikki.

  ‘Oh, abroad then?’ Johnny’s newfound chattiness combined with the replacement of his earlier insolent behaviour had Nikki’s senses tingling. For all that Johnny Flynn was now attempting to appear accommodating, he was ill at ease at having them in his home.

  He shrugged, glanced to the side, bit his lip. ‘Not sure. They didn’t say. Dad wanted to get her right away from it all – no phones or internet – somewhere where she could just switch right off.’

  Nikki kicked Saj under the table and, catching her unspoken instruction, he stood up. ‘Just need to use your loo – too much coffee and then a long drive. Upstairs is it?’

  Flynn pushed his frame away from the sink, a flash of something – fear? worry? – darted across his face and he pushed past Sajid, into the hallway, his voice louder than strictly necessary in the confined space. ‘Yes, the toilet’s upstairs, DC Malik, first on the right.’

  Nikki smiled, sure that like herself Sajid would have noticed the increased volume in Flynn’s voice and suspect the reason why. Johnny walked back into the kitchen, leaving the door open, casting anxious glances down the hallway.

  ‘Bit strange though, them just heading off – leaving no contact details?’

  ‘They wanted privacy.’ Again his eyes darted along the hallway, then when the toilet flushed, he relaxed a little. ‘Been through too much, have Mum and Dad. It’s been a bad time for them. Losing their youngest son, like that.’

  ‘Heard they were estranged though – Liam and your folks. Heard they didn’t get on. Had a bust-up?’

  Johnny’s face reddened and he took a step forward, making Nikki wonder if he was going to grab her again, but the sound of voices from upstairs had him changing direction as he ran back out of the hallway yelling at Sajid who was coming downstairs followed by Mr Flynn senior. ‘You’ve no right to be prying about our home – no fucking right. You need a warrant.’

  ‘Actually, I think a warrant is the least of your worries right now, Johnny. Why don’t you try obstructing the police in the line of their duty or obstructing a murder inquiry as well as the earlier assault on a police officer that we’ve not quite sorted out yet.’

  William Flynn stepped off the last step, his arm round his wife, baseball cap pulled down over his eyes. ‘Let’s all go into the kitchen, eh? I’m sure we’ll be able to sort this out over a cup of tea.’

  Chapter 24

  Sitting round the Flynns’ kitchen table, cups of tea in front of them, Nikki was in no rush to start the interview. She was intrigued that the parents had tried to avoid speaking with them, so she was happy to take the time to observe the three Flynns. The whole charade of the parents going away had piqued her curiosity and she wondered what exactly they were trying to hide. Maybe they were just grieving and nearly at the end of their tether. It was true that Sarah Flynn looked gaunt and haunted – nothing strange there – you’d expect her to be grieving. No parent expects to see any of their children die before they do and for Liam to have been killed in such a violent way must make it worse.

  Sarah Flynn had made the tea, her movements uncoordinated, her hands shaking. Milk had been spilled, water from the kettle sloshed over the work surface. She was a woman operating on zero juice. The image Nikki had been sent showed a thin woman, with long black hair, but now the description “emaciated” suited Sarah better. But what really made Nikki question the entire bereavement act was the fact that sometime in the couple of weeks since her son’s murder, Sarah Flynn had found the time to not only change her hair colour to a stark blonde but also to change the style. The two images – that of a woman thinking about her looks and the worn-out, bedraggled creature sitting opposite just did not add up.

  William Flynn sat next to his wife, but his chair was angled away from his wife, although he clasped her hand tightly on the tabletop. He wore the baseball cap, covering his bald head – another bereaved parent with a need for a change in haircut., Mind you the image had been so unclear that she couldn’t be one hundred per cent sure she’d have recognised him as the same man even without the shaved head. He had grown a beard since she’d seen him on TV. Despite the late summer warmth and the dapples of sweat across his forehead, he wore a long-sleeved polo neck. Every time Nikki looked away, she sensed him watching her, yet when she turned her attention to him, he averted his eyes.

  Johnny, now that his parents were here, seemed content to take a back seat. Slumped in a chair on the other side of his mum, he drank his tea, slurping it loudly, head bowed and eyes focused on the tabletop. Probably wondering just how serious Nikki had been about arresting him.

  Nikki gestured to Saj, who put his tea down and got out a notebook. She started the interview. ‘This is just an informal chat, you know. Nothing to get aerated about. So, that being the case, would one of you like to tell me what all that hiding upstairs was about?’

  Johnny’s head dipped even lower, making it clear that he was not going to respond to that one. Sarah began to weep, her shoulders heaving, and Saj and his never-ending supply of linen handkerchiefs jumped to the rescue. It was as if he was just waiting for the opportunity to give the damn things away.

  Nikki turned her gaze to William. ‘Mr Flynn, care to explain?’

  ‘It were stupid … really daft …’

  Nikki started, she hadn’t expected Flynn to have a Bradford accent, but then remembered Liam’s partner telling her that William was from Bradford originally.

  ‘Don’t know what we were thinking. Well, we weren’t really. We can’t get our heads round our Liam being gone, like.’

  Sarah’s weeping increased and William wrapped an arm round her and hugged her to him. ‘It’s just hard … that’s all.’

  Nikki could see that – it was etched in every crease in their faces, in their sunken cheeks and in the way their bodies slumped as if the weight of holding them up was too much. Nikki had witnessed grief before and she was sure this was the real deal. However, she still had questions and she was sure this family were keeping secrets. Whether the secrets had anything to do with her investigation remained to be seen.

  ‘I can see you’re distressed, so I’ll be as quick as I can. The reason we’re here is that we believe there may be a link between Liam’s murder and one that happened in Bradford earlier this week. I’d like to show you a photo to see if you recognise the victim, and if you could take your time and really think about it, we’d appreciate it.’ Watching both Flynns closely, focusing on t
heir faces, she placed the enlarged photo of Peggy Dyson before them.

  She thought William Flynn flinched, but she couldn’t be certain. However, the small gasp that Sarah made was indisputable. Nikki looked at her. ‘You recognise this woman, Sarah?’

  Holding Saj’s hankie, now wrapped around her index finger, up to her mouth, she shook her head and looked away. ‘No, never seen her before.’

  Nikki pressed her. ‘You sure? You gasped as if you did.’

  ‘She said no, didn’t she?’ Johnny glared at Nikki, his eyes flashing with the same anger that had caused him to grab Nikki’s wrist earlier. ‘Leave her alone – she’s had enough.’

  Nikki ignored him and turned to William. ‘What about you, Mr Flynn? Do you recognise her?’

  Lips pursed, William too shook his head. ‘Nope.’

  ‘Just take your time. Maybe you came across her when you lived in Bradford?’

  Gaze unflinching, William looked straight into Nikki’s eyes. ‘Never lived in Bradford, love. I’m a Lancashire man, born and bred.’

  ‘Oh.’ Sajid’s open smile was designed to reassure. ‘Funny that, I was sure that was a Bradford accent you have.’

  William shrugged. ‘Work with a couple of Bradford lads in the factory – probably picked it up from them.’ He stood up, pulled his hat lower over his eyes and scratched his beard. ‘Now if you’re done …’

  Picking up the photo, Nikki got to her feet and extended her hand to the older Flynns, ignoring Johnny’s sullen expression as he remained seated. ‘Well, that’s us for now. I’m sorry for your loss and thanks for your help.’

  Mr Flynn got to his feet and Nikki headed towards the door, swivelling at the last moment. ‘Oh, nearly forgot. What was it that you and Liam argued about before his death?’

  A crash from behind him had Mr Flynn spinning round. Sarah had dropped her teacup and tea was spreading over the table and onto the floor.