by Liz Mistry
‘S’pose so. Unless he gave them to someone else, but why would he?’ She replaced the extract on the table. ‘Thing is, Downey kept all sorts of stuff. Socks from little girls he’d abused, little trinkets – bobbles from their hair, Y-fronts from the lads – anything that took his fancy. He was a real sick bastard.’
‘We’ll talk about Freddie Downey more later, but can we focus on Dexy, or William, for now?’
‘Call him Dexy – he wasn’t such a bastard when he was Dexy.’
‘Okay, shall I call you Sarah or Candice?’
‘Oh, I left Candice behind a long time ago, but I’m not Sarah either. Sarah was the name he, Dexy, gave me …’ For the first time a flicker of a smile flitted across her lips and Nikki realised just how attractive this woman could be. ‘Maybe you should just call me Jane … like Jane Doe?’ She laughed. ‘After all of this is over, I’m gonna change my name to Jane.’
Saj smiled. ‘I wish I could, but I need to use one of the two names you already go by.’
She shrugged. ‘Okay, Candice – at least Candice had the guts to escape – Sarah didn’t.’
‘Can you tell me how Dexy and you escaped?’
‘Dexy swiped some money from Downey, and we just hoofed it down to the Interchange and took a train to Manchester. We thought it was the ends of the earth; that we’d never be found. Soon found out it wasn’t though – but we still weren’t found. Dexy had mates and they helped him forge his birth certificate. Told him to go to the newer cemeteries and find a gravestone belonging to someone born around the same time as him. That’s where William Flynn came from. He got all the stuff from that and that’s where we’ve been ever since.
‘Thing is, we’d no money to get me a new identity so I couldn’t work, couldn’t do anything – couldn’t leave the country, learn to drive, apply for a course – nothing. But that’s how Dexy liked it. It kept me at home at his beck and call.
‘He wanted me to get rid of Johnny, but no matter how he came to be conceived, there was no way I could get rid of him – not when I saw him for that first time. And he’s a good lad. He could’ve left home like the others but instead, he put up with all of Dexy’s crap, tried to protect me when Dexy got violent. He’s a good lad.’
The observers remained silent, as Candice Downey catalogued the abuse she’d faced as a teenager at the hands of Gerry Hudson – with the approval of her own father: Freddie Downey. Nikki sank into a chair when Candice, stoic and brave despite everything that happened, confirmed everything her son said about Dexy. Never once did Candice look at Saj, hesitating only occasionally to wipe her eyes. The mere thought of being able to escape her life of abuse from her brother cum lover had opened the floodgates.
Finally, she looked up at Saj. ‘I don’t regret having my kids. I know it’s wrong. I know that because Dexy and I both have heart conditions that Josie inherited hers and I know that that’s why Tommy’s like he is.’ She sniffed. ‘But I don’t regret it. I don’t think I could have survived without them. And look at Liam – he was so clever – cleverer than any of us.’ She collapsed then, her words coming through a torrent of anguished tears. ‘I didn’t want to believe he’d killed him – I couldn’t believe it and he told me he hadn’t. But it was him, wasn’t it? It was Dexy who killed my baby.’
Chapter 84
When they raided the Vespa hotel on Thornton Road, Nikki was told to stay outside. Being there, albeit outside, was the only concession Archie would give her. Springer, on the other hand, wanted Nikki banished to Trafalgar House, but Archie once more overruled her. ‘Seeing Parekh outside the hotel might be just the shock the bastard needs to loosen his tongue.’
Saj stayed with Nikki in the car park and she suspected he’d been positioned with her to ensure she didn’t spring for Dexy. Nikki wouldn’t. Although he was a bad bastard by all accounts, he had tried to save his sister from Downey and Hudson’s perversions. Still scared of him, Candice refused to say he raped her, insisting it was always consensual, but they had enough evidence to put Dexy away for a long, long time. Candice, although grateful for her freedom and pleased that Johnny was around to look after her, still worried about a time after Dexy had served his sentence and was released. Nikki was sure Johnny would deal with that issue if and when it came to it.
Yelling and cursing preceded Dexy Downey’s exit from the Vespa hotel. Half-dressed and still half-drunk from the previous night, his bloodshot eyes narrowed when he saw Nikki leaning against Saj’s Jag. He strained against Williams and Anwar, who were positioned at either side of him.
‘You bitch. You’d do this to your own brother?’
With a further lunge, Dexy broke free of the two officers and got right up in Nikki’s face, his handcuffed hands raised before him. Before they descended, Nikki twisted to the side and his fists landed on her shoulder. Exhaustion replaced by adrenaline, Nikki swung round, raised her leg and kicked him right in his balls. He fell to his knees, trying to cup his injured parts with his cuffed hands, but Anwar and Williams were already on him, dragging him to his feet.
Going right up to his face, Nikki – sotto voce – said, ‘Too damn right I would. You deserve every piece of shit that’s coming to you for what you put Candice through. You’re no brother of mine.’
Feet dragging as the two officers escorted him to the waiting police car, Dexy yelled, speckles of spit flying from his mouth. ‘You’re a bitch, Parekh. Your mother was next on my list – she better watch out, because she’ll be my first port of call when I get out.’
Ignoring the reference to her mum, Nikki waited till Williams had slammed the door shut behind Dexy and the vehicle set off, before winking at him and Anwar. ‘Shame you weren’t holding him tighter.’
Grinning, Anwar nodded. ‘Yes, such a shame … but lesson learned, yeah.’
God, my team are good!
A yell from the hotel entrance had Nikki looking up. An officer, smiling widely, held up a rucksack. ‘Reckon we got enough here to send him down for a long, long time, boss. Got the weapon and a list with names on – some crossed out.’ Williams hesitated. ‘Your mum’s and Freddie Downey’s were the last two names on it after Mr Moretti’s.’
Chapter 85
One bite from the bacon butty Saj had insisted she eat was enough for Nikki. Her stomach roiled at even the smell of it and she had to rush to the loos to puke. Never in all her life had a single case reduced her to so much vomit. The result of grief, exhaustion, caffeine pills combined with too much coffee was kicking in and Nikki was aware that if she didn’t give in to it all soon and go home, she might fall asleep at her desk – which of course was something she would never live down – something Saj would not allow her to live down.
Hours after Dexy’s arrest, Nikki wanted to be here as the evidence against him filtered in. Langley had been happy to pull a late shift and, with Mr Moretti’s death allowing him access to his body, he confirmed that the large, long-handled flat screwdriver found in Dexy’s rucksack matched both Mr Moretti’s wounds, but also each of the other victims’ wounds. Poor Mr Moretti. His only link to all of this was his desire to protect the women Freddie Downey kept in his home and his anger at his own daughter being one of their victims. And reports from Cambridge came through that they had found a blood-covered van abandoned in a golf course between Cambridge and Manchester. The blood type matched Liam Flynn’s and what was even luckier was that one of the houses backing onto the golf course car park had cameras that covered the dark corner where Dexy had parked up. They’d caught rare footage of him without his baseball cap on. Cambridge had agreed that, with most of the deaths occurring in Bradford, they’d be happy to allow Bradford to prosecute Dexy Downey.
Archie had got a warrant to search Candice and Dexy’s home in Ashton, and Manchester police had secured more evidence than expected. Apart from his blood-soaked clothes, which Nikki was sure would match up to some if not all of Dexy’s victims, they’d uncovered a raft of child pornographic images on a laptop hidden under h
is bed. Early reports linked the images to current investigations … The evidence was stacking up even more strongly than Nikki could have hoped for.
Now, all she wanted was for Freddie Downey to be located. No matter where he was, she’d get there and make him pay. More and more evidence was also coming through about Downey and his criminal career in Scotland. Apparently, rather than the sad ex-con Nikki had assumed him to be, Downey had used his prison time to great benefit – making contacts with influential criminals. He now headed up a county lines operation that brought in most of the drugs from England and flooded the larger Scottish cities with misery and degradation. He’d been on the drug team’s peripheral vision in Scotland for a long time, but he was clever and managed to keep his nose clean, by using a range of acquaintances – mainly new and/or illegal immigrants – to do the dirty work.
He’d made sure not to flaunt his wealth and Nikki was sure that whatever he’d accumulated would more than finance a life of luxury in some far-off country with no extradition treaty with the UK.
In terms of the boxes taken from Gerry Hudson’s house, more and more of the victims were being identified. Georgia Moretti had agreed to make a statement and Nikki applauded the woman’s bravery. Still grieving for her father, Georgia was determined to help in whatever way she could and with her help, they had located more victims.
It had taken all of Nikki’s inner strength to remain strong for Georgia whilst the woman recounted everything she could remember about being abused by Downey and Hudson. Under the woman’s long sleeves, Nikki saw the telltale scars of self-harm and a bitterness that so many victims had gone unsupported for so long. No more though. No more. Every one of their victims would get the help they needed. At the end of the interview, Georgia – her face pale – smiled at Nikki and exhaled. ‘That was one of the hardest things I’ve had to do, but I’m so glad I’ve done it. Now maybe I can start to heal.’
Archie had made the decision to use the media in an attempt to locate more, and the investigation, although not getting the celebrity profile of the Savile case, was getting enough publicity to keep the hotline busy.
Forensics experts had identified many of the abusers involved in the Downey/Hudson circle and Nikki was glad that more and more evidence was coming through implicating Downey.
Finally, a hand on her shoulder wakened her and Nikki looked up into Marcus’s worried eyes. ‘You’ve done enough now, Nik. It’s time for me to take you home to us.’
Nikki stretched and smiled. Despite her grief, the thought of heading home made her heart sing. She stood up, stumbled a little and then turned to Saj, who spoke before she could. ‘Yeah, yeah, yeah. Any word on Downey and I’ll ring.’
‘No matter the time?’
With an exaggerated sigh, Saj nodded. ‘Yeah, no matter the time. Now take her home, Marcus – she’s making me feel sleepy just watching her.’
Wednesday 30th September
Chapter 86
For the first time ever, Nikki was happy to wear a sari. She and Charlie stood next to each other in front of the mirror wearing identical turquoise and yellow saris – one of the many her mum had brought from India for her earlier in the year. Despite Hindu tradition for muted colours to be worn as funeral attire, Nikki and Anika had agreed that their mum had been too colourful to be sent off to heaven by people wearing pale insipid colours. Instead they’d instructed that everyone attending the crematorium must wear bright clothes.
Nikki had opted not to participate in the ritual washing and dressing of Lalita’s body, but Charlie had surprised her by saying she would accompany Anika and their aunties to do this. It had been, so Charlie said, the last opportunity to show her love for her Ajima and Nikki had hugged her for that. Nikki had surprised herself by gaining some comfort from the daily Poojas in honour of her mum and the constant influx of visitors coming to pay their respects. Wisely, they’d set up the shrine with the lighted Diva in Lalita’s own house, which had allowed the immediate family breathing space. Nikki had taken her turn at keeping the candle lit. The portrait of her mum, with a garland draped round it and a red chandlo on her brow, far from filling her with sadness, had instead made her smile.
She and Anika had spent a long night talking over everything, crying, venting, yelling and eventually falling into each other’s arms and falling asleep, much as they had when they were Raphael and Donatello, in a locked room in Gaynor Street.
‘It’s time, Nik.’ Marcus’s voice came up the stairs and, with a final hand squeeze, Nikki went through to Ruby’s room to collect her and Sunni. Both had opted to wear the Indian suits chosen by their Ajima and were ready. Marcus too wore an Indian suit gifted by Lalita and as they left the house to walk the few doors to Lalita’s house where the Brahman would conduct the funeral service before they transported Lalita to the crematorium, Nikki’s heart missed a beat. The reality of never seeing her mother again pierced right through to her soul. Anika and Haqib joined Nikki’s family, and holding hands the sisters looked around overwhelmed by the support.
The street was lined with their neighbours, both Muslim and Hindu, their work colleagues, Lalita’s library friends, and Nikki’s huge extended family. Never had she felt so supported – so loved – as they walked into the house where her mother waited for one last time, the visitors following on to also pay their respects. It didn’t matter that Nikki herself wasn’t religious, her mum had been and this, her final day, was all about Lalita Parekh.
Epilogue
October
The two figures sat in a battered old Zafira, windscreen wipers on at full speed, still ineffective against the deluge that pounded the car.
‘Think it’s an omen – the rain?’
With a shrug, Nikki watched the rain bouncing on the ground. ‘Dunno. Not sure I believe in that stuff, but I suppose it might be.’
‘You don’t want me to go in, do you?’
Not wanting to be caught out in a lie her sister would see straight through, Nikki grinned. ‘You got me. Course I don’t. But it’s your decision and if you do, then I’m here for you.’
They were parked down the road from Wakefield prison and, as Nikki had promised her nephew –Haqib, not Johnny, – she couldn’t quite get her head round having an extended half-family – she was accompanying Anika to see Haqib’s dad.
‘Wonder how Isaac is. You heard from him?’ Anika was changing the subject, her anxiety making her chatter on like she always did when she was nervous.
Nikki had wanted Isaac to live with them, but Isaac and his social worker had both expressed the opinion that he needed to have some independence. So, they’d helped him move back into the shared accommodation that was near to his work and he’d settled in, made some friends and was happy.
Nikki had pulled in a few more favours to ensure that her colleagues in uniform kept an eye out for him and they’d put the word out on the street that the people in the home were off limits. So far it had worked. ‘He’s fine. More than fine. I think Elaine from the café is his girlfriend, you know? Charlie pops in regularly and he comes over for tea. He’s great.’
Anika looked out the side window and Nikki suspected that whatever she was about to say was going to be difficult. ‘We’re done with Downey, aren’t we, Nik? I mean he can’t come back. He’s had his revenge and forgotten all about us now, yeah?’
Damn! Nikki hadn’t expected her sister to bring this up – not right then. She fingered the postcard that was in her jacket pocket beside the packet of playing cards Downey had taunted her with – Happy Families indeed. She’d been meaning to talk to Anika about it later, but now she hesitated. Did she really want to burden her anxious sister with the news that Freddie Downey had sent her a postcard from Venezuela, one of the few places that did not extradite to the UK? She really did not want to have Anika petrified, locking herself in and jumping at every shadow for the rest of her life, especially if she read the message written on the card: I’ll be back. Your choice – Who’s next, you or your sist
er?
The words tumbled from her mouth and she was committed to her answer. ‘No, he’s gone, Anika. We’ve no need to worry about him ever again.’
Anika nodded, then turned and, grinning, handed Nikki something. Nikki took it. It was a crumpled-up, melted sweet in a familiar wrapper.
‘I love you enough to give you my last Rolo.’
Nikki grinned, glad to have her sister back and began to pick the gold foil from the sticky sweet. ‘Trust you to melt it, Ani. Just like old times.’
Anika inhaled, glanced out the window and pointed through the rain that had slowed to a slight drizzle. ‘Look, a rainbow.’
She turned to Nikki. ‘Let’s go home, Nik. I don’t need to see Yousaf to know what a tool he is.’
*
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Keep reading for an excerpt from Last Request …
Prologue
1983
Her hand, scaly and trembling, reaches out. The flash of shocking-pink nail varnish that I’d applied with painstaking care whilst she’d been sleeping is incongruous against her yellowy skin. The stench of death hangs heavy around her, as if she’s rotting from the inside out. I take her hand, careful not to grip too tightly. Every worm-like sinew, every frail tendon, every arid vein a braille pattern against my palm. Still, she flinches, the pain flashing in her milky eyes. A sheen of sweat dapples her forehead. Her nightdress is soaked with perspiration that mingles with fetid pus and piss, creating a cacophony of odours that make me want to retch. Her pink scalp shines through matted hair. Her cheekbones, jutting against paper-thin skin, bear raw scabs.