by Bo Brennan
“You really think AB4 is Dr Dale Johnson?” Bob asked. “Or is the sex offender treatment just for kicks?”
Colt clenched his jaw. He wanted that last one so bad it hurt. “It doesn't really matter what I think,” he said. “It's the great catch 22. All we can do is rule people out. No one's ever going to stand trial on the basis they have no distinguishing marks on their genitalia. But they're all fucking with kids one way or another, so I want everyone we bring in tomorrow, poked, prodded, and probed until they bleed.”
“Shame Declan Maloney can't do their rape kits.” Bob sighed and rested his chin in his hand. “Our missing housekeepers and their kids could be buried on that estate, as well as boys from the orphanage. If we get a little over zealous tomorrow, one of them might squeal.”
Maggie clasped her hands together and stretched her arms over her head. “When have you ever known a nonce to flip on another nonce?”
“That social worker knows shit,” Bob said pointing at his picture. “He's been filming them for god knows how long, and no one's fingered him as a nonce yet. Get a little bit rough with the old dick stick tomorrow and he'll squeal like a pig, you mark my words.”
Colt raised a brow. He was right. Both he and Maggie had met him and their paedo alerts hadn’t twitched. “I think I'll have a quiet word in the custody doctor’s ear in the morning.”
Chapter 59
Park Gate, Hampshire.
Colt parked on the hard standing between the two house boats, and groaned at the sight of Terri's car. He hoped she wasn't back for round two. Walking into a war zone wasn't quite how he'd planned to deliver the news. Still, if he played his cards right, the short notice would get her sister out of his hair - and India into his arms - in no time at all.
As he stepped from the car and into the warm evening air, bottle of wine in hand, the only sound was the steady plink of moored masts tinkling across the water. No raised voices was a good sign. Unless of course they'd killed each other. He sure hoped not, he intended to end their feud, and enjoy a night of relaxation for his trouble.
He took the stairs to India's place two at a time. Instead of blowing up, sucking up started as soon as he walked through the door.
“Hi Colt,” Terri said cheerily jumping up from the sofa to greet him. “How are you?”
“Fine thanks,” he said shrugging out of his jacket and frowning as she took it, and the bottle, from his hands.
“You just sit down and relax,” she said smiling like she was on crack. “I'll open this and bring you a glass.”
He backed away from her, and edged towards the couch where India sat. “What's going on?” he whispered.
India rolled her eyes. “Stop kissing his arse and just tell him.”
She carefully hung his coat on the stand and plonked herself down on the coffee table in front of him. “I'm applying for the foster carers’ course first thing Monday morning.”
Colt looked to India and frowned when she shrugged. As far as ambushes went, this one was both lame and pointless. “That might be a bit late.”
“Don't say that. They'll listen to you,” she said. “You can put a good word in for me. I want Sasha back. She belongs here. I’m prepared to take them both. They can't stay in that hospital forever and you know I'll look after them. Look how I stuck my neck out for her. They'll be safe with me.”
Colt sighed, and stifled a smile with his hand.
“Oh please make him listen,” she pleaded turning her attention to India. “I know I've been a bitch lately, but it's only because I care. Please don’t hold it against me. I had to do something.”
“One of my officers will be dropping them off in the morning,” Colt said.
Terri's face filled with confusion. “Dropping them off where? Will I be able to see them?”
“I bloody hope so. They're going to be staying at your place for a few days.”
Terri stared at him, her lips parted in surprise, and then she looked to India.
One side of India's mouth curled in approval. “I hope you've got clean sheets on your spare beds,” she said.
“Seriously?” Terri gasped, her eyes welling with tears.
Colt smiled. “Seriously. They'll be with you by ten.”
“Oh my god,” she squealed throwing her arms around his neck. “I can't believe I'm finally getting her back.”
“Whoa, hold your horses,” Colt said peeling her off him. “It's just for a few days during the summer holidays. I've had to pull a lot of strings to make this happen. There are no guarantees of anything permanent you understand?”
She brushed her hands across her face and swallowed hard. “But there might be, right? I mean, if this goes well and everything, they might let me keep them?”
“I don't know,” Colt said. “We'll apply for an emergency order on Monday to get them both transferred to Hampshire Social Services. The final decision will rest with them.”
“Will Haltingbury agree to that?” India asked.
Colt gave a curt nod. “They won't have any choice. The Met is about to launch a major investigation into serious irregularities in their systems and files.”
“This is because of that journalist isn't it?” Terri said. “I've been following him ever since they dragged Sasha out of my classroom. I never believed a word of it until I saw it with my own eyes.” She stared at the floor and chewed her nails anxiously. “That was Hampshire Social Services. Are you sure the girls will be safe with them?”
“They'll be safe,” India said. “I'll make sure of it.”
Colt made an exaggerated show of looking at his watch. “Have you got everything two teenaged girls will need at your house?”
Terri bit her lip. “I haven't been home all week. I'd better go shopping. I need to stock the fridge.”
“I didn't know you'd been away,” Colt said. “How did you manage to bunk the last week of term?”
“She hasn't been well,” India cut in. “Been staying at Gray's for a few days.”
Colt frowned. “Are you sure you're well enough to look after them? You do know Melissa needs a lot of help, she's had a....”
“She knows,” India said thrusting Terri's bag towards her. “She'll be fine.”
Terri clutched her bag to her chest and said, “I'm really sorry about....”
“Yeah we know,” India said ushering her towards the door. “Don't miss the shops.”
Colt watched with interest as India abruptly bundled her sister and her possessions out onto the deck. All the supermarkets around here operated 24/7. In the stillness their hushed conversation drifted in from outside. “He doesn't know,” India whispered fiercely. A mumbled stutter came back from Terri before India tersely cut her off. “No one does. Now piss off and enjoy the visit.”
Colt ran his tongue over his teeth and stretched his arms across the sofa back, waiting for India to return. Every passing second felt like an hour. Scenarios of what she was keeping from him, built blindly in his head.
“That worked out all right,” she said closing the door as a car engine spluttered to life outside.
Colt stared at her. “What don't I know?”
“Nothing.”
Colt raised a brow. India raised a shoulder. “Nothing important.”
“Let me be the judge of that.”
She sighed and took the sofa opposite. The distance she'd put between them made him even more suspicious and intensified his need to know what she was hiding. He pinned her with his eyes and waited.
“She sprung Lisa Lewis from the nut house,” she said matter-of-factly.
He felt his body relax a little, relieved it was work and nothing else. “I thought the general assumption was that George Sarum had something to do with that.”
India shuffled uncomfortably and wrung her hands in her lap. “Sarum and Johnson put her there. Terri remedied it.”
Colt didn't like where this was going. Her body language pointed to a more personal involvement. “And what did you remedy?” he as
ked.
“The camera footage showing it,” she mumbled.
He narrowed his eyes. “You told Len there weren't any cameras.”
“Actually I told him there weren't any in the reception area,” India said facetiously. “And there weren’t. But, there was one in the hospital car park.”
Colt shook his head and slumped forward resting his forearms on his knees. “She was with Terri all the time?”
“No, that's the thing, she wasn't,” India hastened. “Terri dropped her off at Sarum's place that night and didn't see her again.”
Colt gripped his head in his hands. It was getting worse and she just couldn’t see it. If Lisa Lewis had remained in the hospital, it would be her Sasha was coming home to tomorrow, not the teacher who drove her to her murder victim, and ultimately helped get her killed.
India tutted. “Don’t tell me you’ve never kept a friend or family member out of the shit.”
He’d kept Felicity Firman out of the shit when he wasn't sure whether she'd done anything wrong or not, but when it became critical to the investigation, he’d still spilled his guts. India hadn’t. Not even to him. And now he found himself in an impossible situation.
“For fuck's sake, it's not that bad,” she said.
“Not that bad?” He raised his eyes to glare at her. His head was aching and his guts wrenching. He could feel his old familiar friend rage, bubbling beneath his skin. He stood up, silently snatched up his jacket and headed to the door. He couldn't stay here. Nothing good was going to come from this conversation.
“Where are you going?” India said at his back. “What are you going to do?”
He paused with his hand on the door. Unable to look her way, he gritted his teeth, and said, “What the fuck can I do? I've put my balls on the block so your sister can look after a girl whose mother she got murdered. Thanks a lot.” He slammed the door so hard behind him it almost came off the hinges.
Chapter 60
Sunday 31st July
Winchester, Hampshire.
India went into the office early and collected the key from the evidence locker. She couldn't sleep. Had watched Colt set off for the station at 5 am this morning, like a nosey neighbour peering through her living room window. Now, lying on Lisa Lewis's double bed, she concluded he probably had a point.
He’d gone out on a limb without the full facts at hand. She supposed she should've at least told him about Terri. This thinking about others lark didn't come naturally, especially in a life where so few mattered.
There was nothing to say Lisa wouldn't have escaped the loony bin under her own steam, though. She'd played the game and she'd played it well. Said all the things they wanted to hear. Accepted she had a mental illness and denied she had a son. But, India would never accept she killed George Sarum in cold blood, or that her own sister had helped get her killed.
These were bad men, plain and simple. The Johnsons and Barringtons of this world believed themselves to be better than the minions and above the law. The law was for the poor. Money had bought them the power to do as they pleased. Money wouldn't help much where they were going. Not after today.
India raised her hand and stared at the baby band between her fingers. “Baby Billy Lewis, where are you?” she murmured. Tilting her wrist she checked her watch and sat up. Swung her feet to the floor and picked up the bin bag of Sasha's clothes before smoothing down the indent she'd left on the bed.
She took one last look around the neat little flat and wondered what would become of Lisa's stuff. The place was already starting to smell musty. The council were emptying it next week, someone else was moving in. The little she had accumulated through her short life was probably destined for a skip.
As India locked the front door, a bucket of water sploshed across the balcony a few doors up. “Bloody dog,” a woman muttered as she emerged from flat 4a with a scowl and a broom.
“Janet?” India called out.
She momentarily froze as the bristles touched the ground, and frantically starting scrubbing as India approached. The woman kept her head down, pretending she wasn't there. India stepped into the pool of bleachy water and put her foot on the head of the broom. Holding out her warrant card she said, “I'd like a word about your neighbour Lisa Lewis.”
Janet's whole body tensed as she straightened up. “Don't really know her,” she said. “I keep myself to myself.”
India stared at her. “You used to babysit her daughter, Sasha.”
“The bad man took their stuff away,” a small voice said from behind Janet's legs.
Janet dropped the broom, scooped the kid up and hurried inside. “I don't want to get involved,” she said trying to close the door.
India jammed her Doc Martin clad foot into the gap. “You already are,” she said pushing her way inside.
“You can't come in here without a warrant,” Janet hissed.
“Why not?” India said poking around the sitting room, almost identical to her neighbour’s. “You got something to hide?”
“I know my rights,” Janet said hugging the kid like it was a security blanket.
India slumped down on the sofa and made herself at home. “Do you know the one about the right to remain silent?”
Janet swallowed hard. “You can't arrest me. I haven't done anything.”
“I know,” India said. “I've put three cards through your door this month asking you to call me and you haven't. Why not?”
“I don't know anything,” she mumbled gripping the squirming child tighter.
India stared at her. “You don't know what I'm going to ask you yet.”
Janet kissed the little girl's head and rocked her back and forth as she began to cry.
“Maybe I should ask her,” India said pointing at the child. “What's her name?”
“Kala,” she murmured turning away.
“You can put her down. I've had breakfast; I'm not going to eat her.” India's eyes narrowed when Janet's body went rigid. “Or take her away like Billy, if that's what you're worried about. Sit down and talk to me, Janet. Tell me who's put the frighteners on you.”
India waited as Janet silently lowered herself and little Kala into a chair. Progress. She stole a discreet glance at her watch. She needed more and fast. There was no way she was letting Sangrin nab Johnson. “Do I really have to ask Kala about the bad man who took Lisa's stuff?”
Janet shook her head. “It was the dead social worker who's been all over the news.”
India shifted forwards in her seat. “George Sarum?”
Janet pressed her lips into a flat line as she nodded. “He took my last two,” she said quietly. “There wasn't anything wrong with them. The doctor lied.”
India wet her lips. “Which doctor?”
“The baby doctor at Royal South Hants,” she said rubbing at her eyes. “He said I'd shaken the first one. I didn't. I just took him for his check-ups. I did everything right. The police cleared me and they still wouldn't give him back. They took the second one from the delivery room. I didn't even get to hold her.”
India looked at the pretty little girl in her mother’s lap. She was at least two years old. It sounded like Sarum and Johnson had worked legitimate channels to snatch her others but left this one behind. It didn't ring right. If she was a danger to one, then she was a danger to them all. “Why didn't they take Kala too?”
“Because of her dad.” Janet looked up with wet eyes. “But when they took Billy, I knew they could come and get her at any time. That's why I couldn't talk to you. I couldn't risk them taking her as well. If they took his son, they wouldn't think twice about taking his daughter.”
India pulled out the picture of Billy Lewis that perpetually resided in her pocket these days, took one look at it and raised her eyes to Kala. The resemblance was striking. “Who's their daddy, Janet?”
India drove straight at him, diverting at the last second to plough the fluorescent traffic cone - blocking the hospital’s seemingly only vacant parking
bay - out of the way with her bumper. The gobby little shit started barking as soon as she stepped from her car.
“Nice of you to join us, Kane,” Sangrin said. “The Met's plant has been inside the church for half an hour.”
“Good for them.” India gave a sympathetic nod to PC's Paul Smith and Kate Wesson. From their slumped shoulders and downcast faces she gathered they'd been stuck here suffering for a while.
“You're supposed to be on Johnson from midday.”
India checked her watch. “Wind your neck in, it's ten to.”
Sangrin clenched his jaw and thrust a stab vest and clumpy Airwaves handset towards her. India rolled her eyes. “I'm going into a hospital not an inner city drugs den.”
“Colt's orders, not mine,” he snapped. She should've guessed really, Sangrin was probably willing Johnson to stick her with a scalpel. “The radio stays on at all times. I want to hear everything that goes on up there. Paul will be stationed on the floor below you. Kate will be with me.”
“Lucky Kate,” she muttered fastening the uncomfortable vest that wasn't designed with breasts in mind.
Kate Wesson stifled a chuckle, Sangrin glared at her. “Get your sorry arse up those stairs before I mark your file.”
India clipped the intrusive handset to her vest. “What's this mark on my file going to say exactly? That I'm early?”
Sangrin pressed his thumbs into the waist band of his trousers and puffed himself up to his full pocket policeman height. “Your attitude stinks and you have a problem with authority. In particular, male authority. I think we need to discuss your little problem with men.”
India held up her palm an inch from his face. “Your little man problem will have to wait. I've got to get my sorry arse up those stairs.”