by Ann Bloxwich
John drained his mug and carried it over to the sink to rinse it out.
‘I think Ray can’t handle the fact that he’s past his prime,’ Shona mused. ‘He’s so jealous of all the young talent coming up nowadays. He still thinks he’s the best, but to be honest he may still have a good body, but his routine is old, and it borders on sleazy. He refuses to change it because he thinks his fans love the old one. It’s time he realised that most of his original fans have moved on. The women who come to the shows now are mostly hen parties, young women who don’t want to see someone the same age as their dad.’
John nodded. ‘You’re spot on, but he can’t see it. As far as Ray’s concerned, Adam made a fool of him and he won’t let him forget it. If it wasn’t for the fact that he’s freelance I’d fire him. I’ll tell you one thing though. After he’s done the jobs we’ve contracted him for I won’t be using Ray again.’
‘What are you going to tell Adam? He’ll be devastated.’
‘The truth. It’s a shitty situation, but there’s no point in lying to him, because he’ll find out eventually.’
Shona went through the upcoming schedules. ‘According to this, Adam, Jamie and Pete were on that job. We’ve only had one booking today and they asked for two white guys, so I can’t put Adam on that, but I can give it to the others and maybe we can pull Mark off that works do and put Adam on it. We might get something else in before Christmas, but I doubt it.’
‘You can’t move Mark, they asked for him specifically and it’s a solo job. It’s okay, I’ll ring Adam and tell him. He’ll be royally pissed off to say the least but there’s nothing I can do about it.’
John rang Adam and spoke to him, letting the young man down as gently as he could, but Shona could hear him swearing down the phone. John put the phone down and looked unhappy. He hated it when someone hurt his lads.
‘I really hope someone gives Ray a taste of his own medicine one day, and soon.’ Shona said. ‘He’s a complete dickhead.’
‘Hang on, I’ve got an idea, one which will put Ray Diamond right on his arse.’ John reached for the phone and scrolled through his contacts. He found the number he was looking for, picked up the office phone and pressed some buttons.
Shona looked over the rim of her glasses at him. ‘Really? I’m intrigued. Is it one of your lightbulb moments?’
John waited for the person at the other end to pick up. ‘One thousand kilowatts, baby,’ he grinned.
15
By the time Alex got down the stairs and along the corridor to the front desk his knees were throbbing, and he bent over to rub them. Dawn strolled along behind him, notebook in hand, like she didn’t have a care in the world.
‘Rheumatics playing up, are they?’ Dawn laughed, ‘You need to get fit, boss, it’ll do you good, especially at your age.’
‘Bugger off, cheeky cow! I’m in the prime of my life.’ Alex stretched upwards and his back gave a loud crack, making him wince.
‘So I see,’ Dawn smirked. She spotted two women seated in the reception area through the double doors and stopped smiling. ‘How do you want to proceed?’
‘Let’s tread carefully. If the victim is their friend, then I suggest we keep it to ourselves for now.’ Alex said quietly as he pushed the door open.
The two women were seated in the reception area. One looked worried, the other seemed to be playing a game on her phone. They both looked up as Alex and Dawn came through the door.
‘Good morning, I’m Detective Inspector Alex Peachey and this is Detective Sergeant Dawn Redwood. I understand you’re here to report a missing person, is that right?’
The worried-looking one spoke up first. ‘Yes, our friend Vicky. We haven’t seen her since Friday night.’
‘Let’s go somewhere more private,’ Alex suggested, pointing to a set of double doors opposite the ones they had just come through. ‘If you’d like to come this way please.’
Alex held the door open and Dawn led the way to an interview room. This was the nicest one of the three they had, usually reserved for circumstances such as giving out bad news, interviewing children and so on. The room was bright and airy, having recently been given a makeover by a group of local college students as part of their community project. The off-white walls were decorated with swirling patterns of colour, and new blinds hung at the door and window. An abstract painting by one of the students was displayed on one wall. Three pale grey sofas made up a U-shape in the middle of the room, with a small coffee table in the centre. Along the back wall were several boxes of children’s toys.
A uniformed officer arrived with some plastic cups and bottles of water on a tray, then took his leave again. Alex gestured for everyone to sit down before he did. Sometimes the way people sat in relation to each other told you a lot about them and he noticed that these two women were very different. The tall one had wandered in without a care in the world and slumped at one end of one sofa, phone still in hand, whereas the brunette sat next to her but perched like a bird on the edge, handbag clutched in front of her as if she was on trial.
Dawn sat on the middle sofa, close to the brunette and Alex took the remaining sofa opposite the two women. Dawn opened her notebook and sat with her pen poised. She was much quicker than Alex, and her shorthand was only legible to a select few.
The brunette seemed agitated, but the other one didn’t seem to notice, instead, she sat back and scrolled through her phone. Alex sat patiently, looking at her and saying nothing until the woman looked up and saw he was waiting to start. She shoved the phone in the back pocket of her jeans and sat up a bit straighter.
‘Now, let’s start with your names, then you can tell us about your friend.’
‘My name is Laura Morrison, and this is Helen Whittaker,’ the brunette woman said. ‘Our friend Vicky Wilson is missing.’ She was struggling to make herself heard.
‘Perhaps I should tell them, seeing as my gob’s bigger than yours.’
Helen sat forward, resting her elbows on her knees and grinned at her friend. Laura sat back and let Helen take over. ‘We were out with our mate on Friday night. We went to a Ladies Night at the Leamore Club. Vicky ended up backstage with one of the strippers. We didn’t see her after that, so we figured she’d gone home with him. She a massive fan of his and she follows him all over the place, going to as many of his shows as she can. The other week he finally noticed her and gave her his phone number. She said she’s been seeing him on his nights off, but I take a lot of what Vicky says with a pinch of salt. She fantasises a lot.’
‘How can you say that?’ Laura piped up angrily. ‘Vicky never fantasised about anything in her life!’
Helen laughed at her. ‘Oh yeah? What about the time she was going out with a “famous” singer?’ she said, making quotation marks in the air. ‘Turned out it was someone from the Karaoke club. Remember the “famous” snooker player she was seeing? He was just a fan who had once played a couple of frames with Jimmy White in a pub in London. Then there was the “famous” footballer who was my cousin Ronnie’s brother. He’s a cleaner at The Molineux for Christ’s sake!’ Helen sat back, visibly angry.
Laura poured herself a cup of water and took a small sip. Her cheeks were very pink, as if she had been slapped.
‘Take us through the events of Friday night,’ Dawn coaxed.
Laura nodded, cleared her throat and closed her eyes, trying to recall the details. ‘Vicky got ready at mine because I live nearer to the Leamore Club. The taxi was late so Helen was already there, saving us some seats. We got some drinks and watched the show. Vicky was pulled up onstage by the stripper, then after his routine he went backstage, he sent for her a few minutes later and off she went. The drag artiste had come back on by then, so we forgot about Vicky. When the show finished, we carried on drinking and dancing until the disco finished, then we got a taxi back to mine. Helen stayed over as we were both so drunk.’
Laura took a huge breath as if she’d felt a we
ight lift from her shoulders.
Dawn finished writing then looked up. ‘What time was it when you left?’
Helen shrugged.
‘To be fair I was steaming, so I don’t remember much. I think it was around 12.30 a.m. Didn’t she have a go at the security man at some point?’ she asked, looking at Laura.
‘Oh God, yes she did. He was standing by the stage door, making sure no-one could go in or out that wasn’t supposed to. Vicky got in his face when he wouldn’t let her backstage. She shoved him as well. She said she would get Ray to have him fired. She does have a temper when she starts.’
Alex spoke up. ‘I see. What makes you think that Vicky is missing?’
Laura looked at Helen before answering. ‘I didn’t hear from her on Saturday, apart from a text message that morning, but then again I didn’t expect to. I had a colossal hangover, so I spent the day in bed with painkillers for company. When I still hadn’t heard from her by lunchtime today, I called Helen and we went to Vicky’s flat, that’s when I knew for definite. We let ourselves in – I have a spare key as I look after her cat if she’s away. Milo was very distressed, he’d not been fed, and his litter tray was disgusting.’ Laura looked like she about to burst into tears.
‘You don’t seem quite so concerned as your friend. Why is that?’ Alex asked, as Helen rolled her eyes.
She sighed. ‘It’s not the first time Vicky’s scared us like this. About eighteen months ago, Vicky was seeing this guy from the snooker club – the one I mentioned before. She hadn’t been seeing him long when she disappeared. Her mum was going spare with worry. After about a week, Vicky turns up, tanned and smiling as if she didn’t have a care in the world. Apparently, her boyfriend had gone to Malta to watch a snooker tournament, and she’d gone with him. She thought it was funny that everyone had been so worried, until her dad read her the riot act. She was in pieces when he’d finished tearing a strip off her and she moved in with her nan shortly afterwards. Her mum is lovely and so’s her dad to be fair, but it doesn’t pay to cross him. He’s ex-army and I swear he thinks he’s still in. Anyway, when Vicky’s nan died, she left her everything, including the flat. Now she only sees her parents on Sundays. That’s why I’m convinced that she’ll turn up at some point, with a big grin on her face and a fanny like a clown’s pocket.’
‘Helen!’ shrieked Laura, putting her hand over her mouth and looking mortified. Helen started giggling and soon Laura was joining in. It seemed to have broken the tension in the room.
‘Interesting turn of phrase,’ Alex said. ‘Can you give us a description of Vicky and what she was wearing when you saw her last?’
‘She’s twenty-six, the same as me. She was wearing a black dress, a white coat and white boots. She had a massive orange handbag. She’s got long red hair and green eyes. Hang on, I’ve got a photo,’ Laura said, delving into her handbag and retrieving her phone. She swiped through some pictures then handed it to Alex. ‘Here you go. I took a selfie while we were waiting for the taxi on Friday.’
Alex looked at the photo then passed the phone to Dawn. It was difficult to tell if the woman in the photo was the same one that was in the morgue, but there was a definite similarity. She looked so happy that it made Alex’s chest hurt. He handed the phone back.
‘Tell us about the stripper she was with,’ Dawn said, drawing a line under what she’d written so far.
Helen gave a snort. ‘His name is Ray Diamond. I’m not sure how old he is, but I’d guess at late forties, and he’s got long blond hair. He’s around six feet tall, but I could be a few inches off. I’m just under six feet and he’s taller than me, not that I’ve got that close to him.’ She gave a shudder of disgust.
‘If you don’t like him why did you go to see him?’ Dawn asked.
‘I didn’t go to see him, I went to see Kitty McLane, the drag artiste. She’s a friend of mine. It was a coincidence that Ray was on the bill. Vicky was thrilled, she idolises Ray and she goes to see him whenever she can. A couple of weeks ago Ray slipped her his number and they’ve been texting ever since. To be honest I tend to zone out when she starts prattling on about him.’
‘I see. You said there were other entertainers on, do you know their names?’ Dawn asked.
Laura spoke up this time. ‘There was Kitty, then a double act, one black guy and one white. I don’t remember what they were called. There was a guy who did fire-eating, then Ray Diamond and then a disco. I think the DJ was a friend of the fire-eating guy because he came and stood with him until the end of the night. Kitty might know more.’
‘I can ring Kitty if you like,’ Helen said, pulling out her phone.
‘We’ll speak to Kitty. Do you have a number for her?’ Alex asked.
‘I’ll give you her number, but I’ll text her first and ask if it’s okay.’ Helen fired off a text as she spoke and got an almost immediate reply. ‘She said it’s fine, but she’s going to be driving all day so can you leave her a message and she’ll ring you when she’s home. Don’t be surprised if she’s a bit frosty with you, she’s got a lot on her plate at the moment.’ Helen handed her phone over so Dawn could copy the number down.
‘We’d better go, I’ll need to feed Milo again soon. Will you let us know if you find her?’ Laura asked as she stood up.
‘I’ll make sure you’re kept in the loop. We’d better have contact details for Vicky’s parents too, in case we need to speak to them.’ Alex led them back to Reception and saw them out.
‘What do you think?’ Alex puffed as they climbed the stairs to the office.
‘I’m pretty sure it’s the same person.’ Dawn answered.
‘I agree. Vicky Wilson was wearing very distinctive earrings in that photo, but I’m sure there were none on the body. I want to double check those hair pins too, there were loads, so it’s a safe bet that some of them might still be there. I can see someone nicking her earrings, but to take the time to remove all of those pins would make the risk of being caught very high.’ Alex added. His stomach gave a hefty growl.
‘Go and get something to eat before you head off to the morgue,’ Dawn laughed. ‘If you pass out at the post-mortem, Faz is likely to remove some of your vital organs.’
16
Alex bolted down one half of a cheese sandwich on his way to the morgue, shoving the other half in his pocket for later. He crunched on a mint and hoped he wasn’t in for a long stay.
At least it wasn’t far to go, just across the huge quadrangle from the station. Adjacent to the morgue on one side was the Magistrates Court, and the remaining side was home to various cafes and restaurants. There was a large green area in the centre, complete with fountain and benches. It was a nice space to relax on a sunny day.
The bright lights in the morgue made Alex wince. It always amazed him that it could be so very clean, despite what went on in here. He took his hat off to the cleaning staff, they did a fantastic job. Nothing was ever out of place. Jars and bowls were neatly lined up, ready to receive organs, fluids and other such things. Alex was certain it was cleaner than any operating theatre.
Faz stood behind the large steel table, talking to his assistant who was commonly known as Ziggy because his real name was too difficult for most people to pronounce. They looked up as Alex threw open the door and strode in, puffing heavily and offering apologies.
The young woman lay on the table in the centre of the room, so pale she almost glowed under the harsh lights. Faz and his assistant had taken fingerprints, fingernail scrapings, swabs and completed all the other preliminary tasks before washing her down. Her hair was carefully combed back, allowing the injuries to her face to be seen properly. She looked as if she had been stamped on repeatedly and Alex could see there was bruising around her neck.
‘Alex, good of you to join us!’ Faz’s booming voice echoed around the room. ‘I was beginning to think you’d got gallstones too, but then I remembered you were more likely to have stayed up all night killing imaginary peo
ple on that computer of yours!’
‘Guilty as charged, Faz,’ Alex admitted. ‘But never fear, the wife has already passed sentence on me. I expect this evening I’ll be painting walls or putting up shelves in the new place.’
Faz laughed. ‘Excellent, a woman after my own heart. If ever she leaves you, I want to marry her.’
‘You keep telling me that, but it’ll never happen. She’s already told me that leaving me would mean unleashing me on the unsuspecting female public, and she couldn’t inflict that burden on another woman.’
‘She’s very thoughtful, becoming a martyr for the sake of womankind.’
Alex told Faz about the missing person’s report and mentioned the hairpins.
‘Everything we’ve removed from the body has been bagged and tagged but Ziggy has a printout for you. Now, are you sitting comfortably? Let’s begin.’
He pulled down his clear face mask and picked up the scalpel. Alex perched on the edge of a nearby stool and folded his arms.
Faz made quick work of the Y-incision and began removing organs with a speed to be admired. Ziggy was equally swift, weighing and cataloguing everything handed to him. Alex tried hard not to zone out, regretting not going straight to bed now. Occasionally a container would be placed on a separate table, ready to be sent off for analysis. As he worked, Faz dictated his findings into an overhead microphone. His voice became soft and soothing, lulling Alex almost to sleep.
‘Hello, Earth to DI Peachey,’ Faz called, jolting Alex back to the present. ‘I’m done. As I suspected, cause of death was asphyxiation. Both orbital sockets are broken, as are most of her ribs to front and back. Both legs, arms and pelvis show multiple fractures. This was pure rage Alex; I’ve not seen injuries like this since that maniac with a lump hammer was at large a few years back.’