by Ann Bloxwich
He took a small plastic bag containing a dozen pills out of his bedside drawer and removed two of them, swallowing them dry, then standing with his eyes closed, waiting for them to kick in.
His phone buzzed in his pocket and he sat on the edge of the bed to answer it.
‘Hey Liam, are you missing me already? Whoa, slow down. No, I don’t know anything about any cheques. What do you mean you don’t believe me? Why would I steal from you babe? Look, I’ll come back round, and we can sort this out.’
Ray listened for a moment then laughed. ‘Don’t be a dick. You can’t break up with me because we were never an item. Do you really think that I would voluntarily be with an ugly fat wanker like you? You’re a means to an end, just like all the other clients that I provide a service to. Well, I don’t need you, so stick your money up your fat arse, you little prick.’
Ray hung up and threw his phone across the room. It hit the wall and fell down behind the dressing table. He ran downstairs, went into the kitchen, retrieved a bag of cocaine from his kit bag and did two lines in quick succession, making his head spin. He found a bottle of vintage brandy at the back of the pantry, opened it and chugged down a third of the bottle.
He whistled. ‘Fuck, that’s good. Now, where was I before that little twat interrupted me?’
***
John Jackson was beginning to regret giving Shona two weeks off. January was a busy time as all the strippers’ contracts were due for renewal. Between sorting those out and taking bookings for strippergrams and private parties, he was trying to set up dates for a UK-wide tour, something he’d never done before but was keen to try to get the exposure the firm badly needed. Sales had fallen last year so he wanted to recoup some of the losses. He also needed to do his tax returns before the end of the month deadline.
He held the phone in the crook of his bulky neck as he scribbled on the notepad. ‘Just to recap, you want a Fireman strippergram for the 17th of February for a 50th Birthday party, and you want a black guy? Yeah, you pay him when he arrives, he’s not allowed to do the job until he’s been paid. That’s great, thank you very much.’
John put the phone down and wrote the job details in the big book in front of him. He scanned the list of available black strippers and settled on Calvin, one of the new lads. He added the job to Calvin’s spreadsheet on the computer and put his initials next to the job to show that it had been allocated.
John picked up his mobile phone and scrolled down his contact list. The call from Alex had made him feel uneasy, and he was still in two minds whether to call Michelle and see if she was okay. It wasn’t as if he knew her very well, but he liked her and felt sorry for the shit she put up with from Ray. He had no idea why the police would need information about her family unless something bad had happened to her. Would it do any harm to check?
‘Ah, what the hell,’ he said to himself, and clicked on her name.
64
Michelle surveyed the mess in the kitchen and figured that Ray was either drunk, stoned or both. She screwed the top back on the brandy bottle and put it back in the pantry. She used a wad of damp kitchen roll to remove the traces of white powder on the counter, filled the coffee machine with fresh water and set it to drip, then went upstairs.
Ray’s bedroom door was open, so she peered in. He was lying on the bed on his back, eyes wide open. Michelle waited for him to shout at her to get out of his room, but he said nothing, just stared at the mirrored ceiling.
‘Ray, can you come downstairs please? I need to talk to you about something.’
‘Sounds ominous,’ he drawled, sitting up and swinging his long legs over the edge of the bed. He stood up and wobbled, and Michelle went to steady him but he pulled away, clearly annoyed at her. ‘Get your hands off me, I don’t need your help.’
He went downstairs into the lounge and sat on the small sofa. Michelle went to the kitchen to get them both some coffee. She put his mug on the low table by the fireplace and curled up in the armchair nearby, pulled out her phone and started texting.
‘Well?’ Ray asked. ‘Surely whatever you want to say is more important than texting your boyfriend, so spit it out.’
The drugs had long worn off, blackening his mood and his patience was thin.
Michelle put her phone down and pulled an envelope out of the pocket of her jeans. ‘We need to talk about these.’
Ray gave her a blank look. ‘What are they?’
‘Photographs of women you’ve raped or assaulted. Would you care to explain?’
‘I don’t have to explain myself, least of all to you,’ he sneered. ‘I’d like to know why you thought it was okay to go poking around in my bedroom though. If you were looking for money, then you’ll be disappointed because I’m broke.’
Michelle gave him a pitying stare. ‘Oh Ray, you think you’re so hard done by. It was your daughter that found your precious photos. I have no idea what she was looking for, but it clearly wasn’t these. Neil rang me to say she turned up at his house, soaked to the skin and suffering from shock. I’ve asked him to keep her there for now, until I decide what to do next.’
Ray stood up suddenly and upended the table, sending everything on it flying across the room. ‘Until you decide?’ he roared. ‘Who the hell do you think you are, Michelle? You think you can lord it over me? You’ve got a fucking nerve, telling me that you and that fucking poof will decide what happens next? How about I tell you to fuck off and not come back?
Michelle looked at him, her face filled with disgust. ‘You’re pathetic, Ray. I knew you were a maggot, but when I saw those photos, I realised just how much of one you really were. You deserve everything you get.’
Ray lunged at her, knocked the envelope out of her hand and grabbed her by the neck, pinning her to her chair. ‘You think you’re so fucking clever! Do you think I don’t know that you’re trying to ruin my career?’
He squeezed hard, cutting off Michelle’s air supply, and she kicked out furiously, catching him on the shins. He let her go and she shot out of the chair, gasping for air. Snatching up the envelope, she moved closer to the door.
‘Fuck off Ray! You think you’re a big man, loved by everyone don’t you? Well, you’re not. You’re a sad, pathetic loser who doesn’t know when to quit. Trust me, you’ll get what’s coming, and it won’t be soon enough!’
‘Bitch!’ he shouted as he made another grab at her. She ran out of the room and slammed the door, hitting him full in the face. She rushed towards the front door and wrenched it open just as the doorbell rang. Si and Des stood there, both panting and looking anxious.
‘I got your text and thought I’d better call for Des on the way. Are you okay?’ Si pulled her into a hug as Michelle burst into tears. He stroked her hair gently and looked at Des.
‘I thought he was going to kill me. He was so angry.’ Michelle sobbed into his shoulder.
‘Shh, it’s okay now, we’re here,’ Si said. ‘Tell us what happened.’
Michelle pulled away from him and wiped her eyes on her sleeve. She pulled an envelope out of the pocket of her jeans. ‘Hope found these and was very upset. She ran off to Neil’s house and he called me. I told him to keep her there and I came home to ask Ray about them. He just flipped and attacked me. You have to help me; I swear he’s going to kill me.’
Si took the photos out of the envelope and looked through them. He rubbed his hand through his hair, trying to keep his temper. ‘He’s a sick bastard.’ He handed the photos to Des, so he could look at them.
Des looked at the first few pictures, then shoved the packet at Si. He stormed into the lounge and charged into Ray, the momentum carrying the two of them over the back of the sofa. Ray struggled to push him off but wasn’t strong enough. Des dragged him to his feet and punched him hard enough to loosen Ray’s teeth, causing him to stagger backwards and crash into the pool table. Des pinned Ray down and continued to rain blows down on him until Si dragged him off.
�
�Des, that’s enough!’ Si shouted. ‘He’s not worth it.’
‘He’s a cunt, that’s what he is,’ Des shouted back. ‘Did you see their faces? Those women? What sort of sick fuck gets off on doing that?’ He went back into the kitchen and stood at the sink, breathing hard.
Michelle got a bottle of vodka out of the fridge and poured him a large measure. He downed it in one go, then tried to push past Si to go back into the lounge. Si put a hand on his chest to stop him.
‘He’s not worth it, mate. He’ll be finished once these get out. We’ll make sure everyone knows about this and he’ll never work again. Michelle, you’re coming home with me, go and get your stuff.’
Michelle stroked Si’s arm. ‘Thanks babe. I’ll take his car and meet you at yours.’
She kissed him on the cheek and went up to her room. Si left Des sitting on the countertop and went into the lounge. Ray stood by the pool table, the blood from his nose beginning to dry on his face. His eye was closed and starting to swell, and his hair was dishevelled. He looked up when Si entered the room.
‘Don’t say a word, Si, you don’t know the full story,’ Ray said quietly.
‘I know enough to know that no-one will give you a job now, we’ll see to that,’ Si replied. ‘I always knew you were rotten, but now I know just how much. You raped those women, or should I say girls, because half of them don’t look old enough to even be at a show. Then you humiliated them by taking photos as souvenirs! I bet the mighty Ray Diamond made sure that none of them went to the police either!’
Si looked Ray up and down as if he were vermin. ‘You make my flesh crawl.’
Ray shook his head. ‘Si, you don’t understand, you’ve got it all wrong!’
‘No, don’t try and talk your way out of this,’ Si said, holding up his hand. ‘You’re done.’
Ray tried to speak again but Si turned away and walked towards the door.
‘Yeah, that’s it, you run to Michelle like the good little boy you are,’ Ray called after him. ‘She snaps her fingers and you’re there like a pig at a trough.’
Instead of leaving the room, Si closed the door and walked over to the side table where Michelle had laid a paper pattern out over some dress material. He picked up a large pair of scissors and approached Ray, who suddenly looked nervous.
‘Are you finished? Because I’m only just getting started.’
65
‘Right, let’s assess where we are and what we’ve got since this morning,’ Alex said to his team as they stood around the board. ‘By the way Les, how’s the dog?’
‘She’s fine now,’ Les said. ‘The vet removed the stone and she should be home later today.’
‘Excellent news. After your epiphany this morning, we’ve turned everything on its head, and it does explain a few things,’ Alex said. ‘For a start, we know that Michelle Simmons isn’t who she says she is. Craig, would you care to enlighten us?’
Craig took over. ‘I spoke to Professor Wright at Birmingham City University, who positively identified Michelle from the photo I sent her, but says she was enrolled under the name Julie Kershaw. Julie got a degree in Psychology and Business Studies, and Professor Wright remembered Miss Kershaw emailing her to ask about getting her name changed on her certificates around seven years ago. She was told she would have to bring in official documentation, but Professor Wright never heard from her again.’
‘I got an old address using the name Kershaw from the electoral roll,’ Mo said. ‘There were a few, but it didn’t take as long as I’d thought to find the right one. They used to live in Bilston but moved to Wellington near Telford after Julie graduated. Her dad died a few months later, but her mum’s still there. Julie changed her name to Michelle Simmons when she left home.’
‘Dawn, you and Gary get over to Mrs Kershaw’s and have a chat with her.’ Alex said. ‘Mo, you and Les dig deeper into Ray Diamond’s background and see if he’s ever crossed paths with anyone called Kershaw. Maybe Michelle has a grudge against him. Craig, you’re coming with me to talk to Ray Diamond.’
‘What if Michelle’s there?’
‘Then we’ll ask him to come with us. I don’t like the man, but we need to get him alone.’
As they walked through reception on the way to the car park, one of the desk Sergeants called out to Alex and he stopped. ‘What’s up?’
‘Thought you’d like to know that we had a call to go to Wombourne Gardens just now. The call came from a Miss Simmons.’
‘Thanks, we’re on our way over there now. Are your lads on the way?’ Alex asked.
‘They left about five minutes ago.’
66
Dawn and Gary parked outside a neat row of terraced houses on a modern estate near the Princess Royal hospital in Wellington. It was one of those estates where the houses were of a decent size, not the usual rabbit hutches that one had come to expect with mass-produced housing. The Kershaw family home looked well-kept, the front garden was a little overgrown, but given the time of year, that was to be expected. A medium-sized grey saloon was parked on the square of tarmac in front of the garage.
‘Looks like there’s someone in,’ Gary remarked.
Dawn punched him on the arm and rolled her eyes. She led the way up the path and rang the doorbell.
The door was opened by a tall slim man in black trousers and a short black tunic. His sandy-brown hair was clipped short at the sides and brushed back on the top and he had a friendly face.
‘Can I help you?’ he said in a soft, almost effeminate voice.
Dawn introduced herself and Gary to him. ‘We’d like to speak to Mrs Kershaw please. Is she available?’
The man held the door wide and stepped back. ‘Please come in.’ He showed them into a bright, airy sitting room and offered them refreshments.
‘Sheila is having a nap, but I’ll go and get her.’ He went to go upstairs but Gary stopped him.
‘Before you do, would you mind telling us who you are please?’
‘I’m so sorry, where are my manners? I’m Kevin Huntley, Sheila’s carer. She’s got early-onset dementia, you know.’
‘I’m sorry to hear that,’ Dawn said. ‘Maybe you could help us then, rather than bother Mrs Kershaw.’
Kevin smiled and sat down. ‘I’ll certainly try,’ he said. ‘What would you like to know?’
‘We’re here about Mrs Kershaw’s daughter, Julie,’ Dawn said, remembering to use Michelle’s birth name. ‘Do you know her?’
Kevin nodded. ‘Yes, of course I do. Is she in trouble?’
‘We hope not, but we’re just gathering information at the minute,’ Dawn explained. ‘When did you last see her?’
‘She was here yesterday, she brought the shopping over,’ Kevin said. He cocked his head and went to the foot of the stairs. ‘Sorry about that, I thought I heard Sheila waking up. She can get a bit confused, so I like to be ready if she needs me.’
He perched on the edge of the armchair nearest the stairs.
‘That’s okay, we’ll be quick.’ Dawn continued. ‘Julie changed her name by deed poll some years ago, from Julie Kershaw to Michelle Simmons. Do you know why she did that?’
‘Did she?’ Kevin looked as if he’d been slapped in the face. ‘Now, why would she do something like that? You can’t tell Sheila, she’d be devastated.’
He looked as though he might burst into tears and Dawn felt quite sorry for him.
‘Did she have a falling-out with her dad, which may have prompted her to do that?’ Gary asked.
Kevin shook his head. ‘No, definitely not. Julie adored her step-father, she was heartbroken when he passed away.’ He jumped up and snatched a photo frame from the mantelpiece. He thrust it towards Dawn. ‘That’s her with Bill, it was taken a few weeks before he died from liver cancer.’
Dawn and Gary exchanged glances. ‘So, Mr Kershaw wasn’t Julie’s father then?’
‘No, Sheila and Bill got married when Julie was around e
leven years old. They had not long celebrated their wedding anniversary when he was diagnosed. He managed to hang on for five months, long enough to see her graduate.’ Kevin realised he was still holding the picture frame. He placed it back on the mantelpiece and returned to his seat.
‘What happened to Julie’s father?’ Gary asked him.
‘He died when she was a little girl. Well, I say little, she was around seven or eight years old. I didn’t meet the family until much later, when I became Bill’s carer, but Sheila told me all about it.’
‘Was it an accident?’ Dawn asked.
Kevin looked around him then sat forward, as if about to impart a trusted secret. ‘The official version says it was, but I don’t really believe that. He was on his way home from work when he was hit by a car. The car didn’t stop, and the police never managed to trace it. It happened right outside their house, Sheila told me that Julie was looking out of her bedroom window, watching for her Dad and saw the whole thing. She was so traumatised that didn’t speak for ages afterwards, poor little thing.’
‘What makes you think it wasn’t an accident?’ Gary asked.
‘The road outside the house where they used to live is perfectly straight. The tyre tracks showed that the car mounted the pavement and sideswiped Steve, who was walking directly towards the house before swerving back onto the road and driving away. I suppose back then the forensics or whatever weren’t as good as they are today.’
Dawn felt something scratching at the back of her memory, something familiar about what Kevin was telling them. ‘What was Julie’s father’s name?’ she asked.
‘You might have heard of him actually, he’s something of a local legend,’ Kevin said. ‘His name was Steve Gifford.’
67
Alex and Craig got to Ray Diamond’s house in less than fifteen minutes, Alex channelling Mo’s boy-racer skills but with a much less capable car. Alex hope his trusty Astra would be okay, it hadn’t sounded very healthy as he raced along the dogleg. A police car was parked near the front door and the two officers got out when they saw Alex coming up the driveway.