Damaged

by Martina Cole

  She laughed, a light bubbling laugh, and Kate found herself laughing with her. Patrick would love her; he was fascinated by old buildings and what stories they could tell.

  ‘That is why I wanted to talk to you today, Mary. I was wondering about the older houses around and about, especially the ones that border the woods and the commons. I understand that some of them have quite interesting beginnings.’

  Mary took a big gulp of her drink, before saying excitedly, ‘Undoubtedly. There are some beautiful examples of Georgian architecture, and a few that go back to medieval times. Most are from the Victorian age but still impressive, I can tell you. A lot were built on land that once held very old properties. The Victorians were clever because they would utilise whatever was already there. Many of those properties have underground cellars et cetera. When you asked me about it earlier, it got me thinking. There are a lot of old tunnels here too. St Saviour’s, for example, has a tunnel that goes right to Fernbrook House – you know, the big place out by Dutton Moat? It’s a hotel now, of course. Well, it has a priest hole that leads directly to the church. It’s where the priests would have been hidden during the Reformation. There are a lot of hidden places – you just have to know where to look. Take Gallows Farm, for example, out by Helmsley. The house is quite new, only a hundred or so years old, but it was built over a very old place, so they utilised the underground cellars. There was a wine cellar, you know, the usual.’

  A short, heavyset lady of indeterminate age came out to them and smiled at Kate. She said in a soft Welsh lilt, ‘Lunch will be served in five minutes, Mary.’

  Mary thanked her and, winking at Kate, she said cheerfully, ‘That’s Bronwyn – I inherited her with the house! She’s been with me over forty years. Wonderful cook. I could burn water, I’m afraid!’

  She led them through to the dining room, and Kate sat down on an old Georgian ladder-back chair that had seen better days but was still handsome. Her view was of the rolling lawns and the rose garden, and Kate had to admit that she was enjoying herself. Mary was good company, and interesting to listen to, and also she was able to sit back and relax for a change. Bronwyn brought in a attractively presented salmon, and some new potatoes with butter and mint, and a really colourful bowl of salad.

  ‘Everything comes from the garden, dear – except the salmon, of course. That came from Waitrose!’

  Kate laughed with delight, and as they helped themselves to the food Mary kept up a constant stream of conversation.

  ‘I remember seeing you on the TV, when that Markham man was terrorising the place. You were very clever to catch him like you did. Do you have any children?’

  Kate smiled, saying, ‘Just one daughter. She lives in New Zealand with her husband and children. I do miss them. We visit, but it is a very long way to go. Do you have any children yourself?’

  ‘Oh goodness me, no! Never happened – not for want of trying, I can tell you. I think my husband was firing blanks! Not that I ever said that to him, of course! But there were few children on his side of the family, whereas my family seemed to knock them out at the drop of a hat! But I must admit I was happy enough with my James. We travelled and we had lots of nieces and nephews – thanks to my six brothers and sisters – so we didn’t really miss out. Now let’s get back to what you came here for.’

  Bronwyn had already replenished their glasses, and Kate was enchanted by the whole set-up. She was determined to invite this lovely lady to dinner; she knew that Patrick would love her. As Mary talked about the different houses around and about, she seemed to come to life, and Kate found herself fascinated with the different histories the houses held. She was especially interested in the houses that were built on the ruins of other properties. These were the ones that could hold the key to Annie’s case. It was a long shot, but it was worth exploring.

  Plus it got her out of her own home, and that was something she wouldn’t want to admit to anybody. As much as she liked those children, and as much as she was sorry for them, she would be a liar if she didn’t admit that it had all been a big upheaval for everyone concerned.

  Chapter Ninety-two

  Stephen Carter was lying by the swimming pool when Annie Carr and DC Karim arrived at his home. Sylvie Carter welcomed them like long-lost relatives, and they both felt relaxed to be in such wonderful surroundings. As they settled down on the patio, they gratefully accepted long cold glasses of home-made lemonade. Jonny Carter wasn’t there – he was at one of his sites – but Sylvie introduced them to his mother, Wanda Carter, a real old cockney with dyed-blond hair and heavy gold jewellery. She sat down with them and smiled in a friendly way as she gave them both the once-over. Annie Carr felt the urge to laugh, but she held it in.

  Wanda sat back in her chair and said, in a real, deep cockney accent, ‘So come on, then, what’s he done this time?’

  Sylvie pushed her mother-in-law’s shoulder playfully, saying loudly, ‘He ain’t done nothing, Wanda! He knew those poor girls who were murdered, that’s all. They went to his school.’

  Wanda didn’t say anything, she just shrugged gently. Annie and DC Karim were watching the exchange with barely concealed mirth. It was obvious that Wanda was a force to be reckoned with.

  Stephen didn’t get up from his sunlounger, he just smiled at them in his usual friendly way. Sitting up, he said sadly, ‘Poor Janet, she was such a nice girl. I helped her on a project on the Industrial Revolution. Janet was like me – happy to trawl through the books in the library rather than Google what she wanted to know online. She understood that if you had to track knowledge down personally then you didn’t forget it. She was just a really good girl.’

  He looked so upset that Annie felt terrible for him. But she had to ask him if he knew anything about Janet that maybe her mother didn’t. ‘Miss Betterway told me that you were friendly with Janet.’ Annie opened her bag and took out the pictures of her. She showed them to Stephen, and she watched as he frowned in confusion.

  ‘That is Janet, but she looks so different to how she usually did.’ The incredulity in his voice was evident. ‘Mum, look at this.’

  Sylvie came over and took the pictures from her son and, after she glanced at them, she said frankly, ‘Oh, she looks completely different. I always said that she would blossom, a late developer like I was. She was a nice kid, and she was always polite company when she came here. After Stephen helped her with her homework, I would drop her home afterwards. But she never looked like that! She always seemed very young for her age and she didn’t have a lot of confidence, but that’s par for the course with some teenage girls, I suppose.’

  Annie didn’t answer her. Instead she looked at Stephen as she said seriously, ‘I understand that she didn’t have that many friends. Stephen, can you think of anyone that might have come into her orbit recently that you knew of? It could just be something she said, or someone she mentioned in passing.’

  Stephen sat there for a while, and he put his hand up to his lips in consternation. ‘I don’t know if this is important but I did see her in a car with Justin Barber. But that was ages ago. Janet wasn’t the kind of girl to attract much attention to herself, she was painfully shy.’

  DC Karim asked quietly, ‘When did you see her with Justin Barber?’

  Stephen shrugged. ‘It was a while ago, I can’t really remember. I just saw them at the traffic lights in the high street. You know the ones outside Marks and Spencer’s?’

  ‘What kind of car was Justin driving?’

  Stephen shook his head. ‘I can’t remember exactly. It was black, I know that, and it had what looked like zebra-skin covers on the front seats. I do remember thinking, what was Janet doing in the car with him? Everyone knows the Barbers deal drugs, and are in a gang.’ He sighed heavily.

  DC Karim pushed further, ‘Didn’t you ask her about it? I mean, it doesn’t sound like something Janet Cross would do. As you said yourself, she was painfully shy.’

  Stephen Carter just sighed again sadly. ‘It was a while
ago and, to be honest, I suppose I just forgot about it. It was only you two asking me to think of anything unusual that brought it into my mind. She would know Clinton from my year too – they are from the same estate. I just didn’t think anything significant of it at the time.’

  Annie Carr smiled at him and she watched as DC Karim wrote down everything in his notebook.

  Wanda seemed to come back to life, as she said jovially, ‘You from round here?’

  DC Karim shook his head. ‘No, I’m a London boy like you are a London lady!’

  Wanda smiled at him, showing her startlingly white false teeth to their best advantage. ‘I’m a Whitechapel girl myself. My old dad was an Italian immigrant, my mother was Irish. My son, Jonny, has the darker skin, you know. My father was a handsome fucker – it was how we made our money. He would sell ice cream all over the East End, and he was so good-looking that all the women would break their necks to come out and get served by him!’

  They all laughed with her, even Stephen and his mother.

  Sylvie agreed. ‘He was a looker – I’ve seen the photos!’

  Wanda smiled at her daughter-in-law, happy to remember her father.

  Annie laughed with them. ‘You are a very good-looking family, I must say.’

  Wanda grinned again, enjoying the compliment, and Annie could see from her bone structure that she had been very attractive in her day.

  ‘Oh, you should have seen my husband, now he could turn heads! Dressed like a male model, he had all his suits handmade. Didn’t have a pot to piss in at times, but always well turned out. “Clothes maketh the man” he always said – the lying two-faced bastard that he was.’ She was roaring with laughter again.

  Sylvie joined in. ‘Here, Wanda, remember our wedding? That was so funny!’ She turned to face Annie and DC Karim, and she said laughingly, ‘He turned up in a new suit, all done up like the dog’s knob, and we were already in the church. He was late, as always! What was he like for his time-keeping, Wanda?’

  Wanda was laughing her head off now. ‘A nightmare! He never looked at his watch, the fucking imbecile.’

  Sylvie carried on with the story through her laughter. ‘He was all full of himself, as usual, and as he slipped into the church trying not to be noticed because he was late, his mate who had dropped him off started playing the bells of the ice-cream van he had brought him in. I walked down the aisle in my wedding dress and everyone in the church started singing along to “Windmill In Old Amsterdam”! Made the day, though – it was hilarious.’

  Wanda grinned with happiness. ‘He was about as much use as an ashtray on a canoe, but we did have some good times.’

  Sylvie hugged her mother-in-law, and Annie saw genuine affection there.

  ‘He was a real character, Wanda, no doubt about that.’ Sylvie filled up everyone’s glasses again and, suddenly serious, she said, ‘I feel bad, having a laugh and a joke, and that poor child is dead.’

  Wanda grabbed her hand in both of hers, and she said firmly, ‘All the more reason to be thankful for what you have, darling. Remember that it can all be snatched away from you at any time. You have to enjoy life while you can – believe me, girl, I know.’

  Sylvie smiled sadly. ‘Wise words, Wanda, very wise words.’

  Annie and Ali Karim felt like intruders. The two women were obviously very close. It was a pleasure to watch them together. Then Jonny Carter turned up, and Annie and DC Karim were sorry to break up the party. It was a really beautiful and happy home.

  Chapter Ninety-three

  Annie and DC Karim turned up at Justin and Clinton Barber’s home at five o’clock in the evening. It was another beautiful day and they were both sweating as they walked up the front steps of the block of maisonettes. Annie looked around her sadly; it was a real shithole of an estate and, in the brightness of this summer’s day, it looked worse than usual. There was graffiti everywhere, and the stench from the communal bins was so overpowering her eyes were actually watering. The smell of urine as they passed the lifts was strong, and the noise of different music from each individual flat was irritating in itself. A lot of the front doors were wide open where people were attempting to get a breath of air to cool them down. It was as depressing as it was filthy.

  Annie hoped that the council hurried up and sorted the place, because no one should have to live like animals in this day and age. She felt bad as soon as the thought entered her head, but that was the trouble, everyone was guilty of it. This was a bona fide shithole. And, unfortunately, as a policewoman, her experience was that so were a lot of the people who lived here. Harsh but true. She came from a similar background and she had not turned out like these people. She knew that she was a snob in some of their eyes, but she couldn’t help the way she felt.

  Patrick Kelly always said that people make slums not houses, and she agreed to a certain extent. He argued that when you were given these kinds of places to live in, and they were already destroyed, that didn’t give the people too much choice. There were a couple of maisonettes and flats that were well looked after, but they were few and far between. The people inside these boxes were fighting a losing battle. Patrick Kelly, the criminal fucker that he was, believed that people should all be treated with respect. He was very vocal about it, and most of the time Annie Carr was in agreement with him. But not on days like today.

  The Barbers’ front door was wide open and they could hear Desmond Dekker blaring out as they walked into the hallway. The paper was peeling off the walls, and the carpet had seen much better days, but for all that it was clean after a fashion. A blond-haired woman in a sequinned T-shirt came out of the small kitchen and, looking them up and down, she rolled her eyes and shouted up the stairs, ‘Boys, you have visitors!’ Then she went back into the kitchen and carried on stirring a pot on the stove.

  Annie Carr raised her eyebrows and made a funny face, and then she started to walk up the stairs with DC Karim close behind her. They could smell the marijuana but they ignored it. Annie motioned to the door to her left and then she opened the door directly in front of her. Justin was lying on his bed watching a soft porn film with a young black girl who was wearing nothing but a very surprised look on her face.

  Justin looked at Annie standing there and, closing his eyes in obvious annoyance, he said with feeling, ‘Oh, what the fuck do you want now, lady?’

  The girl pulled a sheet around her to cover her nakedness and Justin, who was in bright blue boxers, turned off the film. Standing up, he pulled on a pair of jeans from a pile of clothes lying on a chair.

  Annie said sarcastically, ‘Sorry to interrupt. Downstairs, please.’

  Clinton was already on his way down, and Annie was pleased to see that he was at least alone and fully dressed. She was always grateful for small mercies. Once they were all in the tiny front room, she looked through the serving hatch and was not surprised to see that the mother had no interest in what was occurring in her home with her sons. She carried on with what she was doing as if they weren’t there. This had happened before, and she knew the drill. It was soul-destroying, but Annie didn’t say a word. This was the usual where this estate was concerned, and there was nothing she could do or say to make a difference.

  ‘So, Justin, I have been informed that you knew Janet Cross? Is that right?’

  He shrugged nonchalantly. ‘Yeah, and? We all live around here, innit?’

  Annie took a deep breath, because she wasn’t in the mood for his rudeness at this moment in time. She bellowed at him, at the top of her lungs, ‘You taking the fucking piss out of me? You know she is dead, idiot boy, just like Kylie and Destiny. And once more your name has come up! You were seen with her in a black car with zebra-striped seats. Now I don’t think that car is going to be hard to find, do you? So use your fucking loaf and tell me the score.’

  Clinton was frightened, but Justin wasn’t – that much was evident. The mother, on the other hand, was still acting like she was completely alone in her home. It was surreal.


  ‘That is fucking unbelievable. That was months ago, and I gave her a lift because she was on her own and waiting at a bus stop near Gains Lane. It was getting dark and I saw her and offered her a lift. No fucking law against that, is there?’

  Annie Carr looked at DC Karim, and they locked eyes for a few seconds.

  ‘Did she tell you what she was doing there?’

  Justin rolled his eyes again, before saying angrily, ‘Why the fuck would I even be interested? She was a kid from the estate – I was just doing my civic duty.’

  DC Karim said loudly, ‘There are two bus stops there. Which one was she standing at?’

  Justin opened his arms wide, and sighed heavily before saying, ‘The top of the lane, by the old brick works. You know, I never thought nothing of it, but there ain’t nothing out there, so I don’t know why she would have been there. But she was OK. She didn’t say much, was just grateful for the lift. I was playing my music, you know, and smoking my spliff. I dropped her off by her flats and never thought about it again. She’s just a kid, man.’ He sighed once more. ‘Just a nice little kid. This is all so fucked up, man, people dying like that. You should be doing something about it.’

  Annie didn’t even bother to dignify that with an answer. ‘How about you, Clinton? When was the last time you saw her?’

  Clinton shook his head in bewilderment. ‘I don’t know. I see her around school and on the estate. I don’t really take any notice of her.’

  Sandra Barber stuck her head through the serving hatch and said offhandedly, ‘I seen her. I complimented her on her hair actually.’