Influence

by Stuart Johnstone

  ‘Is it possible that Sully might have needed my friend to interpret the scrolls once he’d gathered them together?’

  ‘Yes, it’s possible. But Sully isn’t stupid and he makes it clear to anyone joining the Council that any interest, or effort to put into practice, anything considered black in nature, means instant expulsion. I can’t believe that he would want to mess with this stuff.’ Void was utterly crestfallen. Lizzie squeezed his hand with reassurance.

  ‘I like him too, and I also feel betrayed Void, but you have to face facts. When is the next meeting?’

  ‘Next Friday,’ said Void curling his fingers around Lizzie’s.

  ‘Don’t go.’ She said ‘Promise me.’

  ‘Lizzie, if we’re going to get to the bottom of this I think-’

  ‘I mean it. Promise me.’ She squeezed his fingers to the point of pain, her eyes were wide with resolve.

  ‘I promise,’ Void conceded with a smile.

  ‘Good, because I’m going to the Police with what I have and let them take over, I don’t want you anywhere near him in the meantime, understood.’

  ‘I understand, do what you have to do,’ said Void.

  ‘All right, now just one more question, and this is really important,’ said Lizzie, Void leaned in with full attention.

  ‘Is your surname really Darling?’

  ‘Shut up.’

  Twenty One

  ‘Are you kidding? Don’t apologise, I can’t remember the last time I had someone round to the house. Well, strictly speaking this is the first time I’ve had somebody round to this particular house, since we’ve not long moved in.’

  ‘Thanks Hilary, although strictly speaking-‘

  ‘Yeah yeah, I know, you’re here to see my dad, but since he’s not home yet I’ll just take it as a personal victory,’ Hilary laughed taking Lizzie’s coat from her. ‘Do you mind hanging out for a while? He shouldn’t be too long, just been held up a bit.’

  ‘Of course I don’t mind,’ said Lizzie, ‘I guess that must happen a lot?’

  ‘Dad getting held up at work? Yeah all the time, you just sort of get used to it you know?’

  ‘I can imagine. Listen, I hope you didn’t mind me getting your number from Vic? And I didn’t really mean to come to your house to see your dad, it would have been fine to meet him at the police station.’

  ‘I don’t mind at all, and it was Dad’s idea for you to come here, I think maybe he did it for my benefit. Are you here to talk about what happened to you or what happened to Vic’s brother?’ Lizzie hesitated to answer, not really sure where to begin. ‘God sorry, it’s none of my business, forget I asked.’

  ‘It’s okay, really. I guess I need to discuss everything with your dad, hand over some stuff I found out and hopefully put all this behind me.’

  ‘It must have been really hard this year? I can’t imagine what you’ve been through.’

  ‘Yeah, well, what can you do?’ Lizzie gave a glib shrug of the shoulders, nonchalantly sliding from Hilary’s statement. ‘So are you going to show me around?’

  Hilary’s house was the epitome of middle class suburbery. The new-build detached house sat in a labyrinth of identical homes with only the merest variation in cars sitting in monoblock driveways to prevent the street becoming a hall of mirrors. Lizzie had found the street without any problems but the seemingly chaotic house numbering system had her wandering the déjà vu cul-de-sac for nearly half an hour. Whatever happened to number two coming after number one?

  ‘There’s not much to see really,’ said Hilary leading Lizzie through the downstairs. ‘Our last house was much more interesting, old with dark cubby holes and draughty windows. This place isn’t horrible or anything but it just doesn’t feel like home really, at least not yet.’

  ‘Do you have to move often? Is that something your dad’s job makes him do?’

  ‘No, this is the first time. I think he was quite keen to move away from London, and our old house. It reminded him too much of Mum.’

  ‘Shit, I’m so sorry, I didn’t realise,’ said Lizzie, suddenly ashamed that she knew so little about this girl. ‘When did she pass away?’

  ‘Oh no, she’s not dead, just shacked up with another guy. It was a long time coming I think, they’ve been unhappy forever, but it still hit Dad pretty hard. I’ve always got on better with Dad and I’m a bit pissed off with Mum about it all so when dad said he was moving here it wasn’t a difficult choice to come with him.’ Hilary’s tone was light, despite the obvious personal turmoil, but Lizzie couldn’t help feel utterly intrusive, standing in her home and hearing her history. ‘I keep telling him he needs to get on with his life, but he just wants to look after me and he throws himself into his work,’ said Hilary. She flicked a light switch on revealing a pristine kitchen so white it hurt the eyes.

  ‘And what did you think about the move?’ asked Lizzie.

  ‘I was fine with it,’ said Hilary filling the kettle. ‘To be honest I didn’t have that many friends in London, and I was more than happy to leave that school I was in.’

  ‘Your dad mentioned you had been having problems, how do you think you’re going to like Queen’s?’ Hilary shrugged.

  ‘I think it’ll be great. It’s a good school, and I guess you just can’t avoid the idiots, you’re going to get them wherever you go, and besides I have Vic.’ Hilary’s face lit up with a beaming smile, she turned to the kettle to hide it and filled two mugs. ‘I’ve never had a boyfriend before,’ she continued. ‘Are you going out with anyone?’ Lizzie paused. Recent developments had to be considered.

  ‘Not exactly,’ she said, squinting her eyes while assessing the definition.

  ‘What does that mean? “not exactly”’

  ‘It means, it’s complicated, or too early to say. But moving back to you, I take it things are going well with Vic then?’

  ‘Yeah, really well, apart from the sneaking around and lying to Dad, which, by the way, is almost impossible.’

  ‘He told me about his super power, or maybe warned me, I’m not sure which.’

  ‘Ignore him, he’s a pussycat really, but would you mind not saying, you know about Vic?’

  ‘Of course,’ said Lizzie. ‘I remember, not a word to DCI Dad, don’t worry.’ Hilary handed a pungently fruit scented mug of herbal tea to Lizzie and continued the tour of the house leading her through a series of rooms which had leapt straight from the pages of an IKEA catalogue ending at a minimalist styled living room.

  ‘He does frustrate the hell out of me though,’ said Hilary taking a seat on a white sofa and pulling a white cushion into an embrace. Lizzie sat opposite her on a wicker armchair.

  ‘Vic? Why?’

  ‘He’s such a closed book you know? I keep trying to get him to open up to me, I can see that he’s hurting but he goes out of his way not to talk about anything remotely personal. We’ve had a few arguments about it actually, it just gets to the point where I want to slap it out of him.’

  ‘I’m no expert,’ said Lizzie, ‘but I think you need to be careful. As far as I can see people just deal with things differently, and trying to force your way onto someone else doesn’t work. If you care about Vic, and I can see that you do, you just need to let him know that you’re there for him if he decides he wants to talk. But I guarantee if you push him, he’ll just push back, and it will become this wall between you. Nothing good can come of it.’ There was a silence while the advice settled, then Lizzie continued. ‘You have to understand that what Vic’s been through is beyond anything you or I can fully appreciate, and I’m not just talking about his brother, it’s his folks too. That sort of shit will twist you up deep. To be honest I feel sorry for the person who he does finally open to.’

  ‘I’m sure you’re right,’ said Hilary with a look of resignation, ’and what is the deal with his parents?’

  ‘I’m sure if you guys stay together long enough you’ll find out, but it’s a bit of a mess.’

  ‘I should probably sto
p talking to him about what’s going on with my parents huh? It probably just sounds selfish compared to what he’s dealing with.’

  ‘I don’t think you need to worry about that, I’m sure he’s happy to listen, and to help if he can, knowing Vic. I can tell he’s really into you.’ Hilary beamed, and then blushed.

  ‘That’s good to hear,’ she said, ‘but it’s not just what’s happened to him he’s reluctant to talk about, it’s everything, like stuff to do with the future. Do you know he hasn’t done a thing about what he’s going to do next year? He says he might go through clearing and get a spot at a university somewhere, but that’s all he’ll say and for all I know that could be at the other end of the country and where does that leave us? God I really am being selfish aren’t I? I just can’t understand someone who doesn’t have plans you know?’

  ‘You mean you’ve got your future all worked out? Because if you do you’ve got one up on most of us,’ said Lizzie.

  ‘Well I don’t know about all figured out, but I do have a game plan, of course I do. The thought of stumbling forward blindly would scare the hell out of me. Do you mean you don’t know what you want to do?’

  ‘When I grow up you mean?’ Lizzie laughed, she couldn’t remember the last time she thought further ahead than next year. ‘I can honestly say that I have no clue.’

  ‘Doesn’t that terrify you? I mean how do you know what subjects to study if you don’t have a goal to aim for?’ Hilary’s face bordered on disgust.

  ‘I’ll be studying English next year, that’s about all I know, for now,’ said Lizzie defensively. ‘I’m studying English because I love it. As for the rest, I’m just hoping it will all sort itself out in due course. So what’s this grand plan of yours then?’

  ‘Like I say, I don’t have it all worked out,’ said Hilary casting away her cushion and sitting forward in her chair, ‘but I do know I want to do what my dad does.’

  ‘You want to be a cop?’ Lizzie tried to hide her incredulity, as much as she liked Hilary, and as much as she seemed bright and capable she didn’t exactly have the physique for crime fighting.

  ‘No, well actually yes, but that’s not going to happen.’

  ‘You lost me Hilary’

  ‘It’s like this, I want to be a cop, I mean I would love to be a cop, but there is no way on God’s green earth Dad would allow me to join the force. I know that sounds bad, like he’s an overbearing monster, but it’s not like that. I could talk my dad into absolutely anything, and he would support me one hundred percent with anything I decided to do, even if that meant running away to join the circus. But it’s sort of an unwritten law that he doesn’t want me following him into the police, and as much as I don’t like to be told no, it would break his heart if I did, so it’s out of the question and off the table.’

  ‘I guess I can understand that,’ said Lizzie. ‘So what then?’

  ‘Forensics.’

  ‘Forensics?’

  ‘Forensics, yes.’ The look on Lizzie’s face was one of a girl needing more information. ‘Look,’ said Hilary, ‘come with me I’ll show you.’ Hilary jumped up enthusiastically. She led Lizzie into the hall where she locked the front door.

  ‘Should I be worried?’ asked Lizzie.

  ‘Oh no, this just buys us a few minutes if my dad shows up, I’ll hear him rattling around with his keys.’ Hilary ascended the stairs and Lizzie followed. A series of framed photographs hung on the wall, all of them of Hilary at various ages. It was like walking back through time. Hilary recently with a Hollywood smile in school uniform; Hilary a few years ago opening Christmas presents; Hilary astride a horse, maybe ten years old. By the time they reached the upper landing Hilary was a babe in arms. She led Lizzie along the upstairs hall.

  ‘Which room’s yours?’ asked Lizzie.

  ‘My room? Oh right, it’s this one.’ Hilary opened a door to allow Lizzie to push her head in, she was met with a riot of boy-band posters, barely an inch of wallpaper could be seen between oversized pictures of the Backstreet Boys, Take That and Hanson. Lizzie recoiled like a vampire with a crucifix thrust in its face.

  ‘But this isn’t where we’re going, come on.’

  ‘Shame,’ said Lizzie, ‘So where are you taking me?’

  ‘Dad’s office.’ Hilary stopped at the last door in the hall and reached up to the top of the door frame and produced a key.

  ‘You know for a policeman you’re dad’s a bit slack with the old security.’

  ‘I know. He never used to lock his office at all until he caught me in here one day.’ Hilary turned the key in the lock, and pushed the door open for Lizzie to step through. A flick of the light switch revealed a disappointingly ordinary room. Lizzie had been expecting, or perhaps hoping for, walls filled with photographs with pieces of coloured string webbing relationships and connections to master criminals. Instead she got an office from the same IKEA catalogue.

  ‘So what are we looking at exactly?’ asked Lizzie, her curiosity fizzling out quickly. Hilary picked up one of the many cardboard boxes sitting on the floor. Each had either “Case against” followed by a surname or the description of a crime and a place, presumably where they had yet to identify the person responsible, written in black marker on the side. The box Hilary had selected was titled “Armed Robbery, Dagenham Heathway. 1991”. She placed the box on her dad’s desk in the corner of the room and lifted the lid. She removed files and a pile of small plastic bound books.

  ‘So, with becoming a copper out of the equation I’m going to become the next best thing,’ said Hilary.

  ‘A forensics… person?’ said Lizzie, not knowing the appropriate terminology.

  ‘Yeah, although I’m not sure yet if I want to be a forensic scientist, or work in the field as a scene examiner. Look at this stuff.’ Hilary pushed various things around the surface of the desk. Fingerprint lifts, books of scene photographs, witness statements, and scribed on aerial photographs showing approach and egress routes, quickly covered the desktop. ‘Don’t you think it’s fascinating? I’m drawn more and more to the photography aspect of it,’ said Hilary opening one of the small bound books. She handed it to Lizzie. Within were a series of photographs, most of which seemed to be of broken glass, but now and again a shoeprint or piece of dropped jewellery appeared with a metal ruler captured beside the item for perspective. Lizzie flicked through the book, failing to take any of Hilary’s delight from the images.

  ‘These pictures are quite good,’ explained Hilary. ‘They’re from the Met, where Dad used to work, but you should see some of the pictures from the police here, they’re just awful. I could do much better right now. I mean you should see the pictures taken at Vic’s brother’s incident-’ Hilary squeaked and pulled her hand to her mouth, as if she had just uttered the crudest swear word known to man. ‘Not that you’d want to see them. I’m sorry I can be a bit tactless sometimes.’ Hilary gathered up the items on the desk and placed them back in the box, taking thorough care to return them in the correct order.

  ‘Is Robe’s file here somewhere?’ asked Lizzie scanning the boxes on the floor and trying for a casual tone.

  ‘Um, yes, it is somewhere. Sorry I shouldn’t have mentioned it.’

  ‘It’s okay. Actually your dad already mentioned there were forensic problems.’

  ‘Yeah, it’s weird lots of the lab results got lost or got corrupted and were useless. The post mortem went horribly wrong, people actually lost their jobs over it. I mean these things are complicated but even getting the scene photographs so messed up? Honestly, bunch of amateurs.’ Lizzie thought for a moment while Hilary returned the box to the floor.

  ‘Can I see them?’ asked Lizzie after a short silence. Hilary looked up at her with a look of disbelief.

  ‘You’re not serious? I mean, you can, if you want to, but it’s not like those pictures of the robbery, as poorly taken as they are they’re still horrible. The last thing I would want to do is upset you.’

  ‘I can handle it,’ sa
id Lizzie as earnestly as she could manage. Hilary stood, hands on hips for a minute, conflicted, before going to another pile of boxes and lifting the top one – “Murder, Banbury. 1993”. Again she brought it over to the desk, and placed her hand on the top of it, holding in the horror.

  ‘Are you quite sure Lizzie? For the record I think this is a really bad idea. The mother of all bad ideas.’

  ‘I’m sure Hilary,’ Lizzie walked closer.

  ‘Alright,’ said Hilary lifting the lid off the box, ‘but it goes without saying that you cannot, under any circumstances, mention this to my dad. As angry with me seeing Vic as he would be, it would be nothing compared to this.’ Hilary’s face was a mask of sincerity.

  ‘Of course,’ assured Lizzie. ‘Not a word. I swear.’

  Instead of pulling the contents from the box Hilary simply pushed the whole thing across the desk to Lizzie.

  She peered inside then lifted the thick wad of paper from the top, she flicked through it discovering them to be witness statements; she placed them aside. A pile of bound photograph books was next, some full A4 sized and some smaller.

  ‘The scene pictures of Vic’s brother are in that one,’ said Hilary pointing to the first of the larger books. Lizzie took the book from the pile and placed it on the desk in front of her. She drew a breath and opened it.

  Lizzie thought she was prepared for anything, any horror, the book had to show her, but as she flicked through the images with her world coming apart at the seams she realised she had been very, very wrong.

  Twenty Two

  Lizzie dropped the book of photographs and left the room. She walked calmly but doggedly down the stairs barely registering the pleas from a flustered Hilary for her to confirm she was okay. She lifted her jacket from the hook by the door and turned to leave but found Hilary had slipped past her and barred her path.