Landslide

by David Menon

  ‘You’re making your daughter suffer because you can’t face up to your own feelings?’

  ‘Like you? Oh I’ve seen you look at me the way you do. You’re the same as me except you’ll burn in Hell for not turning your back on the devil’s lust’.

  ‘I’ve accepted my bisexuality, Tim’ said Adrian after a sharp intake of breath. Had this idiot forgotten that he was speaking to Adrian in his own bloody house? ‘I’m not saying it’s easy but living a life in denial is much more difficult’.

  ‘You’ve found your way of dealing with it’ said Tim, defiantly. ‘I’ve found mine’.

  ‘But at what cost to the rest of your family, Tim? Take it from one who knows. It can be devastating’.

  Tim looked up and said. ‘Is the offer of that scotch still open?’

  LANDSLIDE SEVEN

  Barton was trying to imagine what it could be that Viv Matthews was hiding. Did being married to a career criminal mean some kind of guilt by association? He was long enough in the tooth not to believe that. His experience also told him that some of those wives were entirely innocent and disconnected from their husband’s activities. But that was not the case with Mrs. Vivian Kathleen Matthews. Barton would put any amount of money on that. He wished to God he knew where to look for what Mrs. Matthews was hiding. The investigation could do with a break.

  ‘Tell me about her?’

  Rita’s voice brought Barton back into the present. ‘Sorry?’

  ‘You were miles away, baby’ said Rita who was holding hands with Barton whilst they sat drinking wine in a Tapas bar a couple of blocks away from Manchester town hall. She leaned forward and kissed him. ‘Where were you?’

  ‘Sorry, Rita’ said Barton. It was so good to feel the comfort of a woman beside him. He could see it getting serious with Rita. She’d grown on him a lot. And it just felt bloody good to have her in his life. ‘I was thinking about work. As an investigation continues we tend to get a little pre-occupied. You’ll have to get used to that if you want to get involved with a copper’.

  ‘Oh I think I can handle that’ said Rita.

  ‘Anyway, tell you about who?’

  Rita laughed. ‘Queen Victoria. Who do you think?’

  ‘You mean Lillie Mae?’

  ‘The light goes on’.

  ‘Well what do you want to know about her?’ asked Barton who thought this would come and he’d been dreading it. It was only natural that anyone he got involved with would want to know about his late wife and the mother of his son. He really did understand all of that. He just didn’t know if he was prepared for it yet. He was about to find out.

  ‘I don’t know’ said Rita. ‘I suppose, just what she was like’.

  ‘Do you really want me to talk about her?’

  ‘I wouldn’t have asked otherwise’ said Rita.

  ‘But why now?’

  ‘Because I ... because I get a sense of where we’re going here. Don’t you feel that too?’

  ‘Yes. Yes I do’.

  ‘Well then it’s important to me to know that I’m not competing with a ghost, Jeff’.

  ‘That’s a little ... direct’.

  ‘I just wanted to be clear’ said Rita. ‘I’m a big girl but I’ve got a big heart and it can be broken if I put it in the wrong place’.

  Barton knew he should be honest and upfront about his feelings and that he owed Rita at least that much. But he didn’t see it in any kind of complicated way. Looking back he knew he’d been unfair to DC Rebecca Stockton who’d been offering it to him on a plate but he hesitated. It wasn’t that he wasn’t attracted to her because he was but he just hadn’t been ready at that time. He’d never promised her anything but he’d been very much aware how she’d been waiting for him to wake up to the future. Then when she was killed in the line of duty the matter was taken out of his hands. By the time Collette came crashing into his life he really was ready for it and he could’ve fallen madly for her if she hadn’t lived in bloody Australia. Long distance relationships were one thing but the other side of the world would be just plain stupid.

  He clasped Rita’s hand gently in his own. ‘If I didn’t want to be here, Rita then believe me I wouldn’t be. Lillie Mae will always be there in my life because of Toby. Every time I look at him I see her. We had a very happy marriage and we were looking forward to the future together as a family, maybe we would’ve had more children, but then it was all snatched away from us so cruelly. It’s taken me a long time, Rita, but I’ve been ready to move on for some time now’.

  ‘Is that why you called me? Because I didn’t think you were going to’.

  ‘Yes. Yes it is’.

  ‘Then that’s good enough for me’ said Rita.

  They kissed and it said everything else they might want to say but some things really are better left unsaid when it comes to men and women and their emotions. They both knew that.

  ‘Now then Miss Chung, I’m hungry’ said Barton. ‘And Tapas is all very fine but it’s not like the real thing’.

  Rita smiled knowingly. ‘You mean Chinese food?’

  ‘What else? I know a little place called the Rice Bowl which is not far from here on Cross Street. It’s my favourite Chinese restaurant in the city. Have you been there?’

  ‘No, I don’t think I have’.

  ‘Then come on. You’re in for a treat’.

  The entrance to the Rice Bowl is at street level and then there’s a set of stairs down to the restaurant itself that means passing by a large fish tank and plenty of Chinese looking plants. The restaurant was modern but with many traditional Chinese touches in the way of swords, screens, and pictures mounted on the wall.

  But it wasn’t the decor that Barton noticed. He knew all about the decor. He’d seen it so many times. What he hadn’t seen before were the looks that the waiting staff were giving Rita. They all knew him and smiled their recognition at him. But to Rita they gave fleeting glances that were however clearly not positive. What was that all about? Then he could see them huddled together by the door to the kitchen and looking across. How strange.

  ‘Have you been in here before?’ asked Barton.

  ‘No. I’ve never been here before, I told you’.

  ‘It’s just that they seem to know you but they’re not speaking’.

  ‘I don’t know what that’s all about but I don’t know any of them’.

  The food was, as always, excellent. At the end of the meal Barton paid once they’d finished their pot of Chinese herbal tea. Rita went off to the toilet and whilst he was waiting the manager, Betty, who was dressed all in black with trousers and a long tunic style jacket came out from her office at the back of the bar and greeted him warmly. Then they kissed each other on the cheek.

  ‘Jeff! I didn’t know you were here. How’s Toby?’

  ‘He’s good thanks, Betty. He’s with his Chinese grandparents this week and is probably being spoilt rotten’.

  ‘Well that’s a grandparents privilege’ said Betty who was originally from Shanghai and had been an old friend of Lillie Mae’s.

  Rita then came through from the ladies toilet and exchanged a look with Betty that Barton couldn’t help noticing. No words were spoken between the two women before Rita carried on in the direction of the stairs back up to street level.

  ‘Is she with you, Jeff?’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Then watch yourself’.

  ‘Why? Do you know her?’

  ‘Yes, but I wish I didn’t’.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Just take it from me, Jeff. She’s trouble’.

  ‘I want you to tell me why, Betty. We’ve known each other long enough for us to be honest and upfront with each other’.

  ‘Just watch your back, Jeff’.

  The next morning Barton was still somewhat puzzled by the reaction to Rita by Betty and the rest of the staff at the Rice Bowl. He’d tried broaching the subject with Rita in the car on the way back to his place but she’d shut him down on the subject, claimi
ng once again that she didn’t know any of them. He hadn’t brought it up again and neither had she although he did sense a couple of times in the night that she might’ve been awake and thinking about it. It was certainly on his mind but it got pushed way to the back when he received a call to say that a body, believed to be that of Terry Matthews, had been found. He headed for the crime scene in the depths of Cheetham Hill where DCI Wright and DS Bradshaw were already there and, he was glad to see, playing nicely. Mind you, those two always did.

  ‘Good Lord’ said Barton when he first looked at the decidedly grisly looking corpse that was still strapped to the chair. ‘What the hell did they put him through?’

  ‘Electric shock torture’ said the pathologist Marcus Walters. ‘Electrodes attached to his chest, wrists and ankles. And for added entertainment this time, if you look underneath you’ll see the sitting part of the chair has been cut out so that they could more easily fit an electrode up his back side’.

  ‘Ouch’ said Barton ‘They were really intent on hurting him’.

  ‘What do you think, sir?’ asked DCI Wright. ‘Bernie Connelly?’

  ‘Seems likely as it was him who abducted Matthews and probably brought him straight here. He’s always had a reputation for being the most sadistic when it came to local crime gang bosses and their means of extracting information. I suppose he was desperate for Matthews to tell him who he was now working for’.

  ‘And we’ll never know whether he did or not’ said DS Bradshaw.

  ‘It was the gunshot wound that killed him though’ Marcus Walters interjected. ‘They’d have had their fun beforehand and then decided to do away with him quickly and cleanly in the end. I suppose live by the sword, die by the sword but this was particularly vicious’.

  ‘Well we’ll need to do a formal identification’ said Barton. ‘That’ll mean bringing his wife in. Who discovered him?’

  ‘The roving rave monsters, sir’ said Bradshaw.

  ‘The what?’

  ‘They travel all over the place looking for venues in which to hold their rave events with music and dancing and whatnot. They thought this might be an ideal place to get a bunch of raving teenagers dancing’.

  ‘And instead they struck upon a torture chamber. Bad luck’.

  ‘Okay people we need some results and we need to tie some connections together here’ said Barton to the team who were gathered in the conference room. ‘I’m not prepared to believe that Bernie Connelly managed to slip back into the country, draw together some kind of crew and carry out the abduction and murder of Terry Matthews, not to mention the murder of Gary Makin, without something about it showing up on somebody’s radar. It just begs belief. As soon as he raised his head somewhere it should’ve been knocked down or at least raised an alarm somewhere’.

  ‘We’ve looked into everything we can, sir, and more’ said DCI Ollie Wright. ‘There’s been no sight of him anywhere and to check every number plate recognition camera in the city for the last few days is just not practical given the manpower we have’.

  ‘No, I know’ said Barton. He clenched his fist and hit it against the filing cabinet. ‘It’s just so frustrating. Damn and blast that man!’

  ‘Well at least we have something, sir’ Wright went on. ‘The car that Makin and Matthews were travelling in originated in the Shaw Heath area of Stockport. We know this because we received an anonymous call from a resident of Rosebud Street who told us that the car was parked in that street all night before the said incident in Cheshire’.

  ‘A decoy?’

  ‘Perhaps’ said Wright. ‘Or it could be that the girl was murdered there and the gang had a car waiting to take the body away as part of the plan?’

  ‘That would seem more logical, sir’ said DS Adrian Bradshaw. ‘Rather than just randomly leave the car there’.

  ‘Is it close to where Makin lived? I know that Matthews didn’t live in Stockport’.

  ‘Not far, sir’ said Wright. ‘Rosebud Street isn’t in what you’d call the most salubrious part of Stockport but it’s fairly quiet by all accounts. It’s tiny too with just a dozen terraced houses finishing in a dead end. The houses are tightly packed together, sir. If anything untoward was happening then I’m sure somebody would’ve noticed’.

  ‘Unless they’d been frightened into silence?’ DC Joe Alexander suggested. ‘If we are dealing with some kind of gang here they’ll have taken precautions’.

  ‘Maybe, Joe’ said Barton. ‘Let’s do some house to house along that street and see what we can find’.

  By the time Barton got home it was after nine o’clock. He ran upstairs and kissed a sleeping Toby on his forehead before going back down and into the kitchen where Brendan was waiting.

  ‘I’m sorry to be so late, Brendan’ said Barton as he took off his jacket and loosened his tie. He rubbed his eyes. He was tired.

  ‘Aw, no worries’ said Brendan in his usual affable way. ‘Sit yourself down. I’ll pour you a glass of red. I’ve done a lamb casserole. It won’t take long for it and some veggies to warm up’.

  ‘You’ll make someone a lovely wife one day, you know’.

  Brendan laughed. ‘Yeah, it’s been said before’.

  ‘So how are things going with Jaime?’

  ‘Pretty good as a matter of fact’ said Brendan who was actually feeling on top of the bloody world. Jaime could sometimes be difficult to read but he was making Brendan happier than he’d ever been. ‘Yeah, it’s all good’.

  ‘I’m just asking in a caring older brother type of way, Brendan’ said Barton. ‘I know it’s none of my business really’.

  ‘I don’t mind at all you asking me, Jeff’ said Brendan.

  ‘That’s good’ said Barton. ‘By the way, I may need you to work at the weekend. I think that the investigation we’ve just started isn’t going to be plain sailing, not that it ever is when you’re dealing with murder, but I’ll give you time off in lieu if that’s okay?’

  ‘Sure’ said Brendan who wasn’t quite sure how that would square with what Jaime might have got planned but he’d just have to understand. Jeff was such a good boss and he didn’t want to make waves.

  ‘So where is Jaime tonight?’

  ‘He’s working. He’s got clients to see and won’t be finished until late so we said we’d have a night off. And look, Jeff, thanks for being so understanding and letting Jaime stay over here’.

  ‘That’s okay. This is your home. And it’s good to see you so happy’

  ‘Well I could say the same thing about you Mr. Barton’ Brendan teased. ‘In fact, I was surprised when you rang and said it was just you for dinner’.

  ‘She’s working too’ said Barton, smiling. ‘And that’s not such a bad thing to be honest because I’m knackered. Once I’ve eaten, had a couple of glasses of this stuff and maybe watched the ten o’clock news, I’ll be off to bed’.

  When DS Adrian Bradshaw got home he could see that nice but dim builder Tim Adams was still there. A couple of evenings ago they’d shred a very nice and very satisfying kissing session and although the offer had been there for Tim to go upstairs with Adrian he’d declined the offer and said he wanted to take things slowly and one step at a time. On reflection Adrian had been glad of Tim’s cautiousness because although he was very physically attracted to Tim he nevertheless anticipated that if they did find the yellow brick road it might not necessarily guide them to Kansas. Tim was troubled. That made him somewhat unpredictable and Adrian didn’t know if he could be bothered with it all.

  Adrian went straight into the kitchen which was now more or less finished. He had to admit that it looked bloody good with its very modern combination of black doors and silver surfaces. Yes, Tim had done a great job but where the fuck was he?

  Adrian loosened his tie and then pulled it off completely. He undid the top couple of buttons on his shirt and wiped his hand across his face. There was no sign of Tim in any of the other downstairs rooms and he thought that he might’ve popped out for something.
So he went upstairs with the intention of getting changed into some jogging pants and a t-shirt but when he opened the door to his bedroom he got the shock of his life. There was Tim sitting up in Adrian’s bed and though he could only see the top half it was clear that he was as naked as the day he was born. Despite how pleasurable the view was it was still a shock to see him there.

  ‘Aw, fuck me’.

  ‘Well yes if that’s what you want’ Tim quipped.

  ‘Tim, what are you doing in my bed?’ asked Adrian. In the flesh he had even more of a body to die for. It must be all that work that he does because he wasn’t all pumped up like some daft gym bunny. He just had naturally big muscles in all the right places and he’d love to see what the situation was between his legs. He had a feeling he wasn’t going to be disappointed.

  But Adrian also wondered why it was that only men threw themselves at him. Women never did. He knew he was popular amongst the girls at work but none of them ever made it clear enough for him to make a pass. Could he help it if his needs were currently only met by men?

  ‘What do you think I’m doing here?’

  ‘But you turned me down a couple of nights ago’.

  ‘Well I’ve had time to think since then’.

  ‘And what changed your mind?’

  ‘Adrian, I need you to help me come to terms with my bisexuality’.

  ‘And you think I can do that through sex?’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘You’ve got to want to have sex with me’ said Adrian. ‘Not because it might help you keep your demons down’.

  Tim held out his arms appealingly. ‘Come and sit with me, Adrian’.

  Adrian stepped towards Tim and locked hands with him. His hands felt so rough. Adrian liked that. He didn’t like the feel of the hands of a man who used moisturiser on them. And those eyes of his were holding him. They were even more seductive than usual. Big brown dishes of seduction. Was he really as innocent as he claimed?

  ‘I should tell you to sling your hook’ said Adrian.

  ‘Yes, but you’re not going to even though you think I’m trouble with a capital T’ said Tim ‘But look Adrian I’m tired. I’m tired of fighting all this. I’m tired of hating myself when I look at some man and get that feeling. You know what it’s like. That’s why I need you to help me’.