by Liz Mistry
Stepping forward, Springer indicated the seat Nikki had vacated earlier and grabbing her arm all but directed her to it. Nikki jerked her arm away and turned to Springer. She leaned over and spoke in her ear. ‘Don’t you ever touch me again or I will react.’
Colour suffused Springer’s face, but she held Nikki’s gaze for a moment and then gave an abrupt nod. ‘Naturally we have sent the diary excerpts for analysis and we’re awaiting results from those. We’ve also employed a forensic consultant to try to make some sense of the chronology of the excerpts – again we’re awaiting feedback from that. In the meantime, you all know what you have to do, so go and do it. Next briefing tomorrow at 8 a.m.’
Springer waited till the uniformed officers had begun to leave the room before addressing her detectives. ‘Williams, Anwar and Malik, I would like you to join DCI Hegley and I for a private meeting.’ She began to move towards Archie’s office, then turned back. ‘Oh and you too, Parekh.’
*
Walking into Archie’s office, Saj had whispered into Nikki’s ear. ‘What a bitch – guns drawn at dawn, do you reckon?’
His levity, despite the anger bubbling beneath the surface, made Nikki smile. Springer was exerting her authority and being a bitch about it, but Nikki understood it was because the other woman expected Nikki to try to undermine her. And that, if she was honest, was what annoyed her most. The thought that Springer would think, even for a nanosecond, that Nikki might jeopardise an active investigation to fulfil some sort of power play was disheartening.
Arms crossed, Nikki slouched in the same chair she had occupied earlier in the day and not for the first time since her rollicking, wondered how she could mend her bridges with Archie. She valued him both as a friend and as a boss and his obvious hurt and anger were killing her. However, right at this moment she had other things to think about – she was about to expose her soul and the very thought of it freaked her out. Nikki had rehearsed what she’d tell the team with Marcus the previous evening, yet now all her carefully planned phrases seemed hollow and inappropriate.
When Williams, Anwar, Springer and Malik were all seated in Archie’s room, Archie spoke. ‘Close the blinds, Williams.’
Williams and Anwar exchanged puzzled glances, but he jumped up without a word and closed them.
Instead of Springer leading the meeting, Archie stepped up. ‘Some of you will be wondering about all this cloak and dagger stuff.’ He made eye contact with each of them. ‘Everything that is discussed within these four walls is to be treated with the utmost sensitivity and discretion. Information from here will be fed to the wider investigative team, only … and I repeat, only when either myself or DS Springer deem it as necessary to furthering the investigation.’
Settling himself into his chair he opened a bottle of water. ‘DS Parekh has information to divulge …’
For the first time since she’d been demoted, Archie looked straight at Nikki and nodded. Although his face was taut, his eyes signalled their support to her. Taking a deep breath as the words built up in her throat, battling to get out now that it was time, Nikki thought of her own mother and the abuse she’d suffered over the years. ‘Like Archie, I trust that none of this will leave this room.’
When everyone nodded, she took a sip of water and began pacing the room. When she spoke, her tone was low, almost robotic, but there was no other way she could deliver it.
‘When my mother and her parents came to the UK, my mother was only thirteen or so and confronted with other children who had much more freedom than my grandparents allowed her, she rebelled. At fourteen, she was groomed by a man called Freddie Downey – my father.’
Grinding to a halt, Nikki tried to control the hatred she felt for the man who had abused her mother. Archie poured her more water and patted her on the shoulder and returned to sitting behind his desk. Nikki took a sip, glad of the coolness as it soothed her throat. She’d give the salient details. Who her father was, how he’d groomed her mother, how he lived in Scotland now having served a pitiful sentence for abusing children. Each word ripped at her and she twanged her elastic band again and again as she walked. She’d share the bare details, but she couldn’t allow them to see her scars – not the invisible ones anyway. ‘Downey thought because she was Indian, she was exotic and …’ she snorted ‘… it seems that there was a taste for “the exotic” among the men my father worked for. Soon she was dependent on him, manipulated and vulnerable – a victim of Stockholm syndrome. When I came along, followed by Anika a couple of years later, he used us to control her.
‘We were all subjected to his manipulation for a long time. Until, one day when I was about twelve, Anika would have been ten, my mum made a friend in the school playground. When Downey started to show an interest in me … and my saleability …’ she spat out this word ‘… my mum worked up the courage to confide in her friend.’ Nikki took a swig of water, wishing her throat wasn’t so dry. ‘Her friend helped us escape and report Downey.
‘So, you see. I’m almost sure that my father was working with this Gerry Hudson. I was too young to remember everything that went on, but he was a bastard. I’m also wondering if Freddie Downey is behind these deaths and the diary excerpts. Terrorising people is sort of his thing, after all. For years I’ve been keeping tabs on his whereabouts. Making sure he was nowhere near us. I’ll get my private investigator to check out that he’s still in Scotland. And, of course I’ll give you access to all the PI files I’ve accumulated over the years.’
Slowing her breathing down, Nikki snapped at the elastic band on her wrist, trying to synchronise each snap with the start of a new breath as she waited for a response to her revelation. She’d confided to Khalid, Charlie’s father, before he left and to Marcus, the father of her other two children. Every so often she’d add bits and pieces to the tapestry of her life story and Marcus didn’t probe – didn’t force her hand. He was just there. Her rock – her indestructible mountain. Now, a massive earthquake was going to hit her tight little family and she only hoped they’d have the strength to survive.
Sajid’s one-word response, ‘Fuck,’ was followed by a huge hug that helped ground her. She stopped twanging the elastic band and looked at Archie. His face had paled and his fists were clenched on the desk top. The rest of the room’s occupants were shocked into silence.
‘I hope that fucker an’ all of his damn mates are rotting in jail now.’ Archie’s voice burst into the stunned stillness.
Nikki snorted. Yeah that’d be right. ‘Unfortunately not. He only got a few years …’
The British Justice System had allowed her father to serve less time in prison than her small family had suffered at his hands. It angered her and it was this anger that drove her. She detested injustice. ‘He’s living in Scotland … I have a PI who keeps a regular eye on him to make sure he’s nowhere near my mum.’
‘Maybe a couple of uniforms can chat to your mum and sister. They might have a better recollection than you.’
Nikki raised her hand to the scar on her throat and was unable to keep the panic from her voice. ‘No, no. Don’t send a uniform. I’ll speak to my mum and Ani. It’s got to be me.’
When she paused, she realised that both Archie and Sajid were focused on her fingers, which were moving back and forth over the ridged scar on her neck. She lowered her hand and shoved it in her pocket, ashamed to have been caught out like that and wondering what the rest of the officers present made of it.
‘Look, Parekh …’ Archie spoke in his “gruff kindly” voice. ‘This is clearly upsetting you. Are you sure you’re up for this? Maybe I should send you to work on another team. Perhaps you’re too close to things.’
Her stomach lurched as if filled with wriggling worms as panic took over. She badly wanted to twang the elastic band on her wrist to ground herself, but couldn’t show weakness. Not when so much depended on it. The last thing she wanted was to be on the outside, not even able to watch as her team dissected her childhood. She couldn’t jus
t be side-lined to another investigation entirely. Not without a fight anyway. However, she’d no idea how to convince Archie – no idea how she would be able to get the words out without tearing up, without breaking down – and that would have the exact opposite outcome from the one she wanted.
Sajid stood up and moved in front of her, effectively obscuring her from Archie’s vision. ‘Thing is, boss, I reckon Parekh’s proximity to the case gives us a better perspective. She’s been getting these letters for a reason and to remove her completely at this stage would be detrimental to the investigation. Of course, if at any point we think her presence compromises anything, then we’ll have to think again.’
Nikki could have hugged him. Saj didn’t know the full story of her childhood – not yet anyway – but still he had her back and right now she needed that more than ever.
‘Och sit doon, laddie. I ken what you’re doing. You’re backing up your partner and that’s good. You two make a good team. But I want to see Parekh’s face. I want something from her to convince me.’
Saj turned, hands out in a “well, I tried” gesture and sat down. The short interlude with Saj had been enough for Nikki to collect her thoughts and compose herself. ‘Look, you all know now, mine and Anika’s childhood was crappy. As a family, me, Anika and my mum have moved on – put it behind us …’ She hesitated before continuing, choosing her words carefully. ‘However, I suspect that some things are going to come out about Freddie Downey and my family, during the course of this investigation. Things we’ve locked away for years are going to come out into the open. It might be fodder for the media and I’ve got to think about the fallout from all of this on my immediate family and on my mum and Anika and Haqib. Particularly Anika and her son Haqib. They’re still very fragile after all that’s come to light about Haqib’s dad.
‘I’d like to work with my own team on this. I think I have their respect and they’ll deal with what they find out with sensitivity – of course, I can’t control the extended team’s thoughts and actions, but I am strong enough to deal with it. I’ve been through worse.’
She swallowed on the next words, but knew she had no choice but to say it. ‘I can offer a lot to this investigation and I promise I’ll work just as hard for DS Springer as I would if I was leading it. She’s the SIO and I know I’ll have to take a back seat, but I need to be the one who breaks this to my family. They’ve been through so much already. They can be interviewed officially afterwards – that’s not an issue – but please let me be the one to break the news first. I have to give them a heads-up on what’s going to happen and I think I’ll get more out of them. Anika’s fragile. I’ll need to go gently with her.’ Another thought occurred. ‘I also need to help the kids make some sense of it all too.’ She looked at Springer. ‘Is that okay?’
Springer gave a brief nod. ‘But, Parekh, I will be keeping an eye on you. I’m all too familiar with your propensity to head off on your own. I won’t stand for it. Got it?’
Nikki lowered her head and did the only thing she could. She nodded.
Chapter 37
The last think Nikki wanted to do was to have these conversations with Anika and their mum, but she had no choice. She couldn’t leave it till it hit the news and, although they’d not released the name of this morning’s murder victim, it wouldn’t be long till one of the local journos found it out. The more she’d thought about it, the more it seemed likely that her mother would have some sort of information on Gerry Hudson and she was reasonably sure that that information would link back to Freddie Downey.
She whizzed off a quick text to the private investigator she employed to keep an eye on Downey. Since Downey’s release from prison, Nikki had made sure she knew exactly where Downey was. At the moment he was in Scotland. She could just about stretch to a bit of additional surveillance – she couldn’t really afford not to, not till she had more of a handle on what was going on.
Springer was organising things back at Trafalgar House. She’d set a team on the massive task of going through all the boxes they’d taken from the crime scene. Anwar and Williams were attending Gerry Hudson’s post-mortem and a team of uniforms were still taking statements at Gaynor Street. So far, Nikki could find no fault with Springer’s handling of the investigation. The fact that Springer being on top of things irked made Nikki feel like a real cow. She should be pleased that Springer was stepping up to the mark.
Pulling into Listerhills, Nikki resisted the impulse to drive straight down the road and back to Trafalgar House. Instead she parked up. She could leave it to a uniform, Archie had suggested that, hadn’t he? But a memory of her mother, tears streaming down her cheeks, her eye swollen and bruised as she grappled with Downey, to stop him entering their bedroom, put paid to that idea. She couldn’t allow anyone else to deliver this news to her mum. Back then, Nikki hadn’t been strong enough to protect her mum and sister.
That particular day, Downey had grabbed Nikki’s mum and flung her to the floor. The sound of her mum’s head cracking onto the dresser had made Nikki feel sick. Nikki had pushed 8-year-old Anika behind her, raised her chin and said words she’d never before or since uttered in front of her mum. ‘Fuck off and leave us alone.’
Downey’s face had darkened, his eyes flashing, lips thin as he lunged for Nikki. Nikki darted to one side and yelled for Anika to run, but Anika was too scared and she’d stood there, wee dripping down her leg.
‘You dirty fucking little slut.’ Downey’s fist hit the side of Anika’s head just as Nikki grabbed his arm. Still, the power behind his fists sent Anika toppling onto her bum. Their mum, groaning, a smear of blood dripping from her temple, had yanked him back, but he’d swivelled and wrapped both arms round Nikki’s chest and dragged her screaming and kicking from the room.
‘Leave her alone. She’s too young. Leave her.’
Nikki hadn’t been entirely sure what she was too young for, but she had a pretty good idea. She’d struggled more furiously, determined to get away as he pulled her downstairs, her mum following, pleading and beseeching him.
‘Shut up, the two of you, or I’ll bloody go back and take the other one too.’
Nikki stopped struggling. The last thing she wanted was for Ani to be grabbed too.
Entering the kitchen, he flung her onto one of the chairs and grabbed a rope that he always left there in case any of the women needed “teaching a lesson”. He’d bound it so tightly round Nikki that she could still feel it now, all those years later.
Her chest clogged up and she began gasping – quick short gasps – dizzy and sweating. She forced her hands onto the steering wheel, closed her eyes and began to count her breaths. After a while, although still shaky, Nikki was calmer. She hated that Downey still had the power to make her feel like this. Hated that she couldn’t just let it all go, no matter how much she tried. She raised her fingers to the rough scar that ran across her neck. He’d done that to her that same day; the day that they started to plan; the day they began to snatch back control little by little. The day they became stronger.
The unwelcome memories kept breaking in on her.
Two others had been there that day. She couldn’t remember their names; in fact, she seemed to remember that they lived there too … Downey in a rage was something to be scared of and Nikki didn’t blame the other women for leaving.
‘Sit down and listen.’ He kicked a chair over to Nikki’s mum who wrung her hands, shaking her head from side to side, making all sorts of promises if he’d just take her instead of Nikki. Talking right over her mother, he grabbed a bottle of bleach from under the sink, opened it and yanked Nikki’s head back. ‘You shut right up, right now, or I swear I’ll pour it down her throat.’
As he spoke, he wafted the bottle in front of her; droplets landed on her lips and face, the smell was so strong she retched, but it did the trick. Her mum shut up bar the odd gulping sob.
‘I’ve got an order in for a young girl and she’s gonna have to do it.’ He turned to Nikki. ‘Y
ou know what’ll happen to your mum and sister if you don’t do whatever my friend tells you, don’t you?’
She looked at her mum, rocking back and forth on the chair and thought of Ani who was probably hiding under the bed upstairs, right now. As she nodded, a little part of her heart curled into a ball and died. He dragged her up and through to the living room. The room they were never allowed in. The room with the dark curtains and the great big padlock on the door. But it wasn’t locked then. As he thrust Nikki in, her nostrils were filled by the stench of sweat and some other underlying scent she couldn’t identify. A man – an old one, sat on a double bed that was covered only by a sheet. He patted the bed beside him and as he smiled at her, the door slammed shut behind her and her bowels loosened, adding to the room’s putrid stench.
It was her fear that had saved her being raped that day, but her punishment was a lasting one … Again she touched her scar before stepping out of her car and with leaden feet made her way over to her mum’s house.
*
The street was nearly empty; all the kids were back at school now and apart from Mr Ayub making his way home from mosque and a couple of women doing a bit of gardening, Nikki was alone. She looked up at her mum’s house, just three doors along from the two that she and her sister lived in. Plant pots filled with late summer blooms, which Nikki didn’t know the name of, were scattered around the small square of front yard. A wooden bench with a small matching table sat at an angle throughout the summer. Nikki had got used to seeing her mum sitting there with a cup of something in her hand, watching the kids playing on the street, as Nikki pulled up after work. She’d enjoyed grabbing an occasional half-hour with her mother, with the fading sun warm on her back, before she made her way along to the chaos that was her own house.