Dark Memories

by Liz Mistry

  ‘Is that what they threatened to do to you?’ Nikki waited but Isaac avoided her gaze and cracked on with making the butties she’d ordered.

  ‘Come on, one of them must be Calum, but you must know the other lads’ names too.’

  Silence.

  ‘You know I’ll look out for you. Me and Marcus and Mum and Anika – we’ve all got your back. Just tell me their names.’

  A slight shrug this time, yet still he dug his heels in and wouldn’t say any more.

  Nikki picked up her carrier bag of delicious-smelling butties and indicated that she wanted a quick word with Grayson outside. ‘Keep an eye on him, will you. She handed him a fiver. Get him a taxi home tonight, yeah? I need to try to track down these louts and make sure they don’t come back.’

  ‘I’ll see if he’ll say owt else later on, Nikki. Poor lad looked petrified.’

  Nikki nodded. ‘He did. You got CCTV?’

  When Grayson nodded, she said, ‘Look, make a copy for me of the last couple of hours’ footage and I’ll send someone over for it later.’

  Chapter 46

  The smell of the warm butties had the team descending on her like a flock of vultures on a dead deer. Nikki was glad she’d made the effort. It was not often that she thought of these things; must be Marcus and Saj rubbing off on her. She dismissed the thought with a smile and walked over to examine the incident boards at the front of the room, painfully aware that this should be her investigation – not Springer’s. Still, she had to show willing. Had to rein in her frustrations and play the game. As Marcus had pointed out, she was lucky to be here at all.

  Anwar had done a grand job, adding to the boards as information was forthcoming – not that much had come forth overnight. In the middle of the larger board was a mortuary photo of Gerry Hudson with his name and date of birth above it. He’d have been in his mid-seventies, if Nikki’s quick calculation was accurate, which made him in his late forties/early fifties when she’d been living in Gaynor Street. What did you do to deserve this now? Why not years ago? It wasn’t often that Nikki found it difficult to summon some empathy for a victim, but something about Gerry Hudson made it impossible. A niggling thought that she remembered him as a bogeyman from her childhood, combined with her mother’s as yet unsubstantiated suggestion that he was in cahoots with Freddie Downey, had leached all sympathy for him from her thoughts.

  True, no one should have to die the way he did, but it was equally true that no child should have to go through what they had at a grown man’s hands. She’d still do her job – of course she would – but she had to find a way to depersonalise the investigation. What am I talking about? This isn’t my investigation. It’s Springer’s. I’m only a flunkey this time. Still, she’d need to distance herself personally from it. All eyes were on her on this one. Everyone would be watching her, trying to work out how this was affecting her.

  As it was, she was well aware of Springer’s watchful eyes appraising her from the other side of the room. It was a wake-up call that not everyone in the room was on her side and a coil of anger fizzed like a Catherine wheel in her stomach. Swallowing, she forced it away and turned and smiled at Springer. Archie had informed her that he would be keeping up to speed on how cooperative Nikki was being. The unspoken implication being that if he got a single whiff of dissent from her, he’d whip her off the case completely and send her home to twiddle her thumbs. She was lucky she was allowed to contribute even the small amount she was.

  Springer walked over to join Nikki, and, standing shoulder to shoulder with her, it was impossible for Nikki to assess the other woman’s expression when she spoke – even so, Springer’s words surprised her. ‘I’ve got your back on this one, Parekh. I know this isn’t easy for you – playing second fiddle to me. But I want you to know that I respect your input and if you stick to the deal we made yesterday, then things will work out. We got off to a bad start.’ She lifted her shoulders. ‘Probably my fault as much as yours, but I want us to put that behind us. After all, we both want the same things, don’t we?’

  Springer gave a weird little laugh that turned into a cough. ‘That bastard Hudson may well have deserved all he got, but we’ll find who did it anyway. We’ll also do our damnedest to identify some of those other sick fuckers and get them locked up too.’

  Springer gripped her shoulder and squeezed – just once – and then moved away. A flood of emotions swept through Nikki. Apart from the “second fiddle” bit and the weird laugh/cough, Springer’s tone had seemed sincere. However, was it possible that her attitude could do such a turnaround from yesterday? She’d been raped not so long since and gone through a really rough time. Despite Nikki’s part in Springer’s rescue, this was the first time she felt that she and Springer had connected on a personal level and although instinct warned her to be careful, a wave of optimism lightened Nikki’s mood.

  She shrugged and moved her gaze over the information that had been added to the board since the previous day. By the time she’d absorbed it all, Springer had called the room to attention and Nikki moved away. Saj was sitting on a desk near the front, with Anwar and Williams standing behind him, like a pair of henchmen. Nikki made her way to the back of the room among a crowd of uniformed officers, and just as the briefing was about to start, DCI Hegley walked in. It seemed that his eyes went straight to Nikki and as a result everyone else’s head swivelled in her direction too. So, all eyes on me! As far as Nikki was concerned, his scrutiny had told the room that he was surprised she hadn’t defied his orders and taken off, chasing down a lead vigilante style. Of course, with everyone watching her, during the briefing, there was even more pressure on her to remain composed. Sweat gathered at the back of her neck, and she was glad her hair was pulled up into the ponytail she favoured, giving her some air. Ignoring all the attention as best she could, Nikki focused on Springer.

  Although Langley had updated Nikki on Hudson’s post-mortem the previous evening, she was happy to reabsorb the pertinent information. What she wasn’t happy with, was the way her skin crawled with Springer’s stuttering, stammering briefing. The other woman seemed less in control than she had at the previous briefing, more nervous, less sure of her facts. Springer’s frequent glances towards Archie made Nikki suspect Archie had spoken to her – told her he was watching her. Having been on the receiving end of Archie’s displeasure on many occasions, Nikki knew how unsettling that could be. She found herself crossing her fingers and hoping Springer would hold it together.

  ‘Right, em … well. For those of you who haven’t had a chance to check out the crime board, here’s the update from Dr, em Campbell. Time of death established at … hold on a minute … oh yes here it is … between 1 and 3 a.m. Multiple stab wounds, death caused by, em … where is it? Oh yes, stab wound to the heart.’ Springer’s face was red as she flipped back and forth over the typed report, when all she needed to do was look at Anwar’s concise notes on the crime board.

  ‘Dr, em Campbell intimates there were no defensive wounds.’ Springer looked up at the officers crowded in the room and without making eye contact with anyone, lowered her head. If the way this investigation was progressed wasn’t so important, Nikki would have laughed out loud. But this was ridiculous. Archie should have got an experienced DS in from another team if he was going to replace her, not this incompetent woman, who would never be able to inspire the team to push forward. This was a fuck fest and Nikki was pissed off. Adrenaline coursed through her and it was all she could do to remain standing at the back of the room.

  Springer continued. ‘So either Hudson had been asleep or unconscious when he was killed. We’re waiting for forensics on the blood, on the off-chance our killer managed to nick himself, but em, well, the early reports from the CSIs indicate that our killer wore gloves. Any questions?’

  A communal headshake seemed to relax Springer a little as she proceeded with more assurance. ‘Statements from neighbours were sparse. Nobody had seen him for months – some of the newer residents
hadn’t ever seen him except sitting in his window. No unusual vehicles in the street, no unidentified people either. Few houses had CCTV and none near Hudson’s house.’

  Springer, more definite now, although still consulting her notes, nodded to Anwar who was now standing near the crime board, marker in hand ready to write down any actions resulting from the briefing.

  ‘Get a couple of officers to obtain and trawl the CCTV footage from any houses further down the street whose camera covered the road or pavements. A thankless job, but it could pay dividends. If the killer drove or walked up the street to Hudson’s house, they might get lucky – especially as the road could only be accessed by car from the Leeds Road side. If he accessed the street from Leeds Old Road, there are no cameras to catch him entering or leaving the crime scene.’

  An officer standing near Nikki raised a hand. ‘Ma’am, I hope it’s all right, but when I was taking statements yesterday I took the liberty of asking those houses with CCTV to forward their recordings to us. I’ve made a list of the ones that have come through so far.’

  For a moment, a frown passed over Springer’s face as if taking the young officer’s initiative as a personal slur, then it cleared. ‘Yes, well done – em, good thinking. That’s what I like to see – someone thinking for themselves, making logical decisions and thinking ahead. Well done PC …?’

  Her face flushed as she stammered, ‘Richards, ma’am.’

  ‘Brill. Pass your list to DC Anwar.’

  Nikki raised a hand and, aware that her action had once more prompted scrutiny from the entire room, kept her tone neutral. ‘Might be an idea to grab CCTV footage from the shops on Leeds Old Road that were near to Gaynor Street. Might as well cover all eventualities.’

  Springer’s face fell, then she smiled. ‘Thank you, DS Parekh.’ She turned to Anwar. ‘Action that too, please.’

  Studying her notes again for a moment before squinting round the room, Springer looked at Williams. ‘DC Williams, what have you found so far in those boxes?’

  Exhaling loudly, Williams, face serious, walked to the front of the room, whilst Springer sank into a chair next to Sajid. My chair, my partner. Nikki was being petty, but it stabbed her to think of Saj working with Springer whilst she was holed up behind a bloody computer.

  Williams cleared his throat. ‘We’ve not had the chance to go through all of them. I think we’ll need a few more pairs of hands and eyes if we’re going to make a dent in it anytime soon.’

  Anwar added that to the list of actions as her colleague continued. ‘Each box has a date on it, going back years, but we’ve yet to find any boxes dated after May 1994. Whether that means our killer took them or whether Hudson just stopped his activities, I’m not sure.’ He screwed up his face. ‘Actually, I don’t reckon the killer took any later boxes because they were all higgledy-piggledy, although the month of each box was written on the outside in the top right-hand corner. We sorted them by date when we got back here.’

  ‘What was in the boxes, Williams?’ Nikki couldn’t help herself – she just needed to know. After all, those boxes could reference her and her family.

  Williams closed his eyes for a moment and then shook his head. What he’d seen in those box files would stay with him for a long time. Then, he opened his eyes, straightened his shoulders and began. ‘Each box contained photos of children being abused. The abuser’s faces were hidden from view but we did see a few identifiers like scars, tattoos and on one a birthmark. One tattoo, we matched to our deceased and it appeared in numerous photos with both male and female children.’

  The young officer hesitated, letting his words sink in and as Nikki looked round the room, she saw varying degrees of disgust on the team member’s faces.

  ‘There were also what looked to be handwritten receipts, written in code.’ Williams pressed the clicker he held and an enlarged example of the receipt flashed on the large screen.

  Written on lined A4 paper each “receipt” had a date, which corresponded to the month on the box in which it was found. Written on the left was “Invoice for TL for the use of DD” and underneath was a list of codes with amounts aligned with them.

  1st December 1993

  Invoice for TL for the use of DD:

  AP £25

  OS £10

  HC x 2 £20

  Total £55

  DW – £10

  TP £45

  ‘I’ll print them out and put them on the board so if any of you are good at cryptic stuff please have a go at breaking them. Some of them are obvious – like TP more than likely means total paid. Having spoken to VICE, who have now taken copies of all the contents and are working to match the photos of the victims and abusers to their database, they believe that the initials at the top refer to the abuser and the victim. In this case, this TL is the abuser and DD is the victim. They hope to have some names for us before the day’s end.’

  ‘Bastard got off lightly, if you ask me,’ a voice from the crowd spat out.

  A series of muffled whispers followed this observation and a sourness settled over the room. The scent of disgust was so strong it was palpable. Nikki had experienced it before. Coppers hated paedophiles and now they were conflicted. On the one hand they thought the bastard deserved all he got; on the other, they were there to uphold the law as this sort of vigilantism, when left unresolved, could lead to total chaos. It was Springer’s job to keep them focused on the task in hand.

  It took just a moment too long before Springer reacted and hopefully only a few saw the exaggerated sign Archie made, telling her to stand up. Jumping to her feet, Springer faced the officers. ‘Look, I understand how you all feel.’ Understatement of the decade. ‘But, I need you focused on this case. Our job is to find the person who killed Gerry Hudson. It’s that simple. We are looking into his lifestyle and, as we often do, we’re discovering some very unsavoury things about him. These things will ultimately help us catch his killer …’

  Nikki looked round the room and saw that many faces were unconvinced. Motivational speaker she’s not!

  But Springer went on gamely. ‘They’ll also help us identify the other men who are out there, possibly still abusing and …’ she glared at the officer whose earlier outburst had caused the tension in the room ‘… we’ll be able to get justice for the real victims in the process. So … anyone who wants to ditch this investigation – have at it. You won’t be disciplined or written up for it. I only want officers here who will do the job they’re paid to do and dig deep to bury any thoughts like those just expressed.’

  The room was silent. A chair shuffled and Nikki saw the officer in question, an older guy with a beer belly and a frown, stand up. He was going to walk and Nikki’s heart sank. What if they all walked? What if Springer ended up losing her team on day one?

  The officer, she remembered his name – a DC Marley – stepped forward and then his big hairy hand was extended towards Springer, a self-conscious grin on his stubbly face. ‘You’re right, boss. You’re right. I just got a bit worked up then. My apologies and I promise it won’t happen again.’

  Springer looked at his hand and then into his eyes before she extended her own hand to him. The tension in the room broke and just like that Springer’s extended team were all on the same page again. As Marley returned to his seat, Springer resumed the briefing. ‘Okay, in light of these names, it would be prudent to track down past residents of Gaynor Street – particularly those with children. We already have some names, but, Williams, you can do that, please. If any of the initials match any found in Hudson’s box files, I want you to alert me immediately. Questions?’

  ‘What about the carer who discovered the body? She well enough to be interviewed?’

  ‘Yes, we interviewed her yesterday. The interview report is in the file on the PCs. I’ll be out of the office with DC Anwar for the rest of the day, as it’s Liam Flynn’s memorial service in Manchester, but DS Parekh and DC Malik will be in the office going over all the CCTV footage and they shou
ld be your first ports of call should you need to report anything important. Right, off you go.’

  Chapter 47

  He was out there. She knew he was. All this with that scumbag Hudson and poor Peggy’s death was no coincidence – he was behind it all. After all these years he’d come back and cast a cloud over everything her little family had achieved. They’d managed to cover up their inner scars, make lives for themselves and now on some whim or other he’d turned up again. Well, this time, he wasn’t going to get the better of her. This time, she wasn’t a silly little teenager with no self-respect and a desire to try to fit in with all the white girls. This time she was an adult – a grown woman with self-respect and she wouldn’t let him cheat that away from her.

  So, Lalita had to make plans. She had time. Today was Anika’s birthday and although she suspected he’d love to throw a cog into a family celebration, Lalita knew he’d have no idea that it was his youngest daughter’s birthday. But she did and, if this was perhaps going to be the last celebration she ever shared with her family, then she was going to make it a good one.

  Marcus told her Nikita wasn’t going to come. Lalita snorted, hands on hips. She’d see about that. No way was her eldest daughter going to miss this. Despite everything, they were a family and if the worst came to the worst, she wanted to make sure that they didn’t forget that. Today was for cooking, which would also give her time to plot. There was nothing that soothed her more than delicately mixing her spices and creating food for her family to enjoy.

  As she kneaded the paratha dough, with half an eye on her samosa mix and a Hindi CD playing in the background, Lalita considered the best way to lay her trap. She’d been awake most of the night thinking about that. Where would be the best place to lure him?

  Initially, she’d considered trying to lure him down to the arches where he’d murdered Peggy Dyson. But the very thought of going down there scared her almost as much as Downey himself did. Besides, there was no guarantee the rough sleepers or drug addicts who hung out there would come to her aid, if she needed them to. Ultimately, she’d realised that much as she was loath to have him anywhere near her beautiful safe home, that was the only sane solution. There were many benefits to it. Firstly, it was her own turf. She knew the lay of the land. She could secure hidden weapons all over the house. Yes, he was a big man and she was small, but, she had taken a self-defence class with Nikita and Anika and, courtesy of her eldest daughter, she wasn’t weaponless. On the contrary, she had enough MACE and pepper sprays to have two in each room. Plus, she had knives – sharp ones. But her coup de resistance was the Taser Nikita had given her. Lalita had protested, knowing it was illegal, but Nikita had insisted that she take it. ‘We need to be safe and you never know when you might need it, Mum.’