The Goldsworth Series Box Set

  “But what?” Aurora shouted, jumping to her feet, her anger flaring. “You were scared of him? Or were you just scared that you were going to get locked up in the cell next to him?”

  “It wasn’t like that,” Clint stammered. “I was confused, I –”

  “You were confused,” Aurora hissed, almost laughing. “Think how I felt! My sister was murdered and there were no answers. I cried myself to sleep for weeks afterwards, and the only thing that got me through it was –”

  She stopped. It was too painful to think about Clint. The betrayal was too deep.

  “I’m sorry,” Clint said, tears forming in his eyes.

  A few minutes ago, Aurora would have done anything to stop Clint from hurting, and wiped away any of his tears. Now she felt a vindictive pleasure in seeing them. She put a hand to her head and ran it through her hair, hoping that she would wake up from this nightmare, yet she knew that it was real. All the pieces fit.

  “This is so sick,” she cried. “I trusted you. I loved you. And all this time, you’ve known who killed her.”

  Clint was silent and Aurora fought the tears, determined not to show any weakness in spite of everything.

  “You even came to her funeral,” she gasped in horror, remembering how he had comforted her when she had thought nobody could.

  “I didn’t know what else to do,” Clint said, tears flowing down his face now. “I love you so much.”

  “You say that Troy’s sick, but you’re just as bad,” Aurora shouted. “We’ve slept together. And you were there. You didn’t help. You just let her die. I’m having your baby!”

  The thought of the baby growing inside her suddenly made her feel sick. Aurora thought of the circumstances. Her child’s father was involved in the aunt’s murder. It was so messed up and sick, and Aurora couldn’t cope.

  “Listen, please,” Clint said, his voice pleading now. “You’ve got to understand –”

  “Don’t worry, I understand it perfectly,” Aurora interrupted, grabbing her bag and throwing it over her shoulder. “You’re sick. I can’t believe I fell in love with you. I never want to see you again.”

  She headed for the door but Clint threw himself in front of her, wiping away the tears and desperation emanating from every part of his body. She looked into his face and pushed him out of the way, throwing the front door open.

  “Aurora,” he called after her, as she hurried away, “Please.”

  She paused and looked around. Clint’s face suddenly appeared hopeful.

  “Go to hell,” she screamed back at him, mustering all the venom she could and throwing it into her voice. Clint’s face crumpled and the tears continued, but Aurora forced the image out of her mind and hurried down the concrete steps and across the courtyard. She had to put as much distance between herself and Clint as possible.

  The only place she could think of going now was to the churchyard. She had to visit Shaniqua’s grave. She had to be alone with her sister and mourn her death all over again.

  * * *

  A few hours later, Clint staggered down the road, his beer can nearly empty. He stopped as the building he was looking for came into view.

  Although he’d been drinking since Aurora had ran away, the alcohol did not numb the pain that made his whole body ache, as he had hoped it would. The look on Aurora’s face as she had discovered the truth, her angry words and her tears were etched into his mind, and he saw only this when he closed his eyes.

  He drained the rest of the beer and made his way across the small car lot to the small brick building. A few police cars were parked outside and Clint felt every fibre of his body protest, screaming at him to turn and flee. But Clint walked on towards the police station.

  He knew that he had to do this if he was ever to find forgiveness.

  He pushed through the double doors and found himself in a plain reception area, with blue plastic chairs lined against one wall. Nobody looked round at him as he entered and he knew that this was his last chance to go, but he walked forwards and stopped in front of a high counter, behind which a policewoman sat, safely ensconced behind a glass window.

  “Can I help you?” she said, looking at Clint.

  Her expression seemed uninterested. If only she knew, Clint thought.

  “I need to speak to Detective Patterson,” Clint said.

  “She isn’t here,” the woman replied curtly. “Perhaps -”

  “It’s got to be her,” Clint interrupted.

  “Miss Patterson is very busy,” the woman persisted. “Now, I have detective -”

  “No,” Clint protested. The woman looked at him with frustrated, so Clint added, “I need to see Patterson. It’s about Shaniqua Curtis. I know who killed her.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Clint waited patiently in the reception of the police station for twenty minutes before an interior door opened and Patterson emerged, flanked by another officer.

  “Clint Jackson?” she asked, walking over to him.

  Clint nodded.

  “You have some information?” she asked, eyeing him with suspicion.

  “Yeah.”

  She gestured him to come with her and Clint rose to his feet and followed her through the door. They went down numerous corridors and past offices and coffee machines, before finally reaching a plain wooden door with ‘Interview Room Five’ printed in black letters across the door.

  Patterson opened the door and Clint stepped inside.

  The room was smaller than he had expected. The floor was linoleum and the walls were a pale, dull blue. A table stood on the far side of the room with two chairs on each side, facing each other. A large black tape recorder sat on the table against the wall and security cameras blinked at them from each corner of the room.

  “Take a seat,” Patterson said, and Clint sat down on one of the plastic blue chairs that reminded him of the ones in reception.

  Patterson and her partner sat down on the other side of the table and observed him closely. Clint didn’t wonder at why they seemed to suspicious. He knew it was unusual, almost unheard of, from any residents of the Goldsworth to willingly turn up at a police station. He also knew that his tracksuit was a mess, having spilt beer down it on the way here, and his eyes were still red and bloodshot from crying.

  “I’m Serena Patterson,” Patterson introduced herself, and Clint nodded. He recognised her.

  She motioned towards her colleague, and said, “And this is Casey Jenkins.”

  Jenkins nodded but Clint didn’t nod back. Clint had wanted to speak to Patterson alone, but Jenkins had insisted on coming along and Clint had eventually backed down, accepting that what he had to say would soon involve more people than just himself, Aurora and Patterson.

  Jenkins flicked the tape recorder on and gave an introduction, whilst Clint sat silent, listening. He could feel Patterson’s eyes on his face and wondered what she thought of him.

  “Now, Clint,” Patterson said, smiling at him, “You told the desk sergeant that you had some information for me?”

  “I do,” Clint said. “It’s about -”

  He stopped. He was desperate to tell her everything, but where would he begin? There was so much to tell and so many things he had to get off his chest.

  Patterson waited patiently.

  “Well, it’s just that,” he began again, but fumbled once more.

  “Now, should we begin with Sasha Morton and Wright O’Neill’s killings?” Serena asked.

  Clint felt relieved that she had taken over the interview and he nodded.

  “Do you know who killed them?”

  “It was Troy Banks,” Clint said.

  The guilt he had expected to feel when he said it did not come. Too much had happened, Clint thought, for him to care about his former best friend anymore.

  “How do you know this?” Patterson asked, making notes on a pad of paper even though the tape recorder was no doubt recording everything in more detail.

  “He told me,” Clint an
swered. “Him and his brothers, they were having a party to celebrate, because Troy had got into the gang.”

  “The Banks brothers gang?”

  Clint nodded.

  “And Troy actually confessed to you?”

  “Yeah, and our other mate, Tamar.”

  “Okay, did he tell you why he killed them?”

  Clint thought back to the party.

  “At school, he said he wanted to take out Jayden Healy -”

  “The rival gang leader?” Patterson asked, and Clint nodded. She continued making notes.

  “He wanted to take him out. I guess that didn’t work out, because next thing, he’d killed Wright and Sasha.”

  “Was it premeditated?” Jenkins interrupted.

  “I don’t know,” Clint shrugged. “He said he’d seen them in the park and that he’d wanted to kill Wright. He told me Sasha tried to save Wright, jumped in front of the bullet, that’s why she died. He shot Wright after that.”

  “Did he seem remorseful?”

  Clint pictured Troy’s triumphant smile as he had relived the murders, and he shook his head.

  “Did he tell you anything else about the murders?”

  Clint racked his brains.

  “No, only he used one of his brothers’ guns because he didn’t have one of his own.”

  Patterson and Jenkins exchanged meaningful looks but didn’t say anything. Clint watched them suspiciously.

  “We’ve already arrested Trent Banks for the murders,” Patterson explained. “But we’ll look over your statement and review the case.”

  “Okay.”

  “Now, you said you also had information about Shaniqua Curtis’ murder?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Who killed her?”

  “Troy did.”

  “What did he use?”

  “A knife. He’d brought it out just for a laugh, I don’t think he meant -”

  “Who else was there?” Patterson interrupted him.

  “Troy was, and me,” Clint said, feeling his palms get sweaty again. “Brandy, Troy’s girlfriend was there. And her mate Zoe. And then Tamar and Amal too.”

  “Could you take me though what happened that night?”

  Clint nodded and described in as much details as he could what had happened, up until the moment that Shaniqua had collapsed and they had all fled in different directions.

  When he had finished, Patterson studied him for a minute.

  “Why are you telling us all this now?” she asked.

  Clint shrugged, “I don’t know.”

  * * *

  The front door creaked open and Aurora stepped into the darkened flat. Closing the door behind her, she crept down the hallway and locked herself in the bathroom. She pulled the cord and the fluorescent light filled the room.

  She hastily looked at herself in the mirror. Her eyes were red and her make-up had run. There were flecks of dirt in her hair, no doubt from when she’d been lying on Shaniqua’s grave, crying her heart out.

  She washed her face under the cold water tap and a ran a brush through her hair. Another look in the mirror showed her that she had at least got rid of the dirt.

  She let herself out and went into the lounge. Her mother was sitting on the couch, a bottle of cider in her hands. She wasn’t even drinking out of a glass now, Aurora thought sadly.

  Marlena turned to look at her, eyeing her suspiciously. Her eyes were wide open and her pupils were large. Her lips were dry and cracked, from her front teeth constantly biting down on them. Aurora knew it was the drugs, and she knew her mother did too, but she was beyond her help now.

  “All right mum?” she asked, surprised by the cheeriness in her own voice.

  Marlena narrowed her eyes at her and then nodded.

  “I’m okay,” she said. “You?”

  For a second, Aurora wondered whether she should tell Marlena everything that had happened today. The fact that she had been right about Clint, he had broken her heart, just as Marlena had assured her he would. And that she knew who had killed Shaniqua.

  But Aurora simply nodded her head and muttered, “Fine, thanks.”

  Marlena didn’t seem to have heard her and was greedily gulping down more cider. Aurora averted her gaze and shuddered as she looked around the room. An image of Troy bearing down upon her flashed before her eyes.

  Half an hour later, Aurora was surprised when Marlena rose unsteadily to her feet, the empty cider bottle discarded on the floor, and began pulling a coat on.

  “Where you off to mum?” Aurora asked.

  Marlena turned to look at her, wide eyes glazed.

  “Just off down the pub, love,” she said, blinking slowly. “Be back later.”

  Aurora watched her mother go with a frown. She heard the front door open and voices drifted into the flat. Aurora thought of getting to her feet but found she was too tired to go and eavesdrop on her mother and a neighbour. The door slammed shut and Aurora instinctively looked to the lounge door. She could hear muffled footsteps and was surprised when Brandy appeared in the doorway.

  “Your mum let me in,” Brandy said, looking around the room uncertainly, unable to make eye contact with Aurora.

  Aurora observed her. She felt a small thrill of pleasure watching her squirm uncomfortably, unsure of what to do.

  “I just thought we should have a chat,” Brandy said, stepping further into the room.

  “A chat?” Aurora repeated. “Why now? You’ve never shown any interest in wanting to chat to me before.”

  Brandy shifted uncomfortably and sat down in the worn armchair, still averting her eyes from Aurora’s.

  “It’s just,” Brandy said, flustered. “It’s just - it’s about what happened the other night.”

  “What about it?”

  Aurora had half-expected Brandy to visit but that didn’t mean she wanted to make it any easier for her, especially after what she had found out earlier.

  “Well, Clint came round and had a few digs at Troy. He said some things,” Brandy explained. She looked cautiously at Aurora, “Then Troy told me something different and -”

  “Of course he said something else,” Aurora snapped. “And I guess you believe him?”

  “No,” Brandy said. Aurora looked at Brandy and saw for the first time that she looked worn out compared to a few weeks ago. “I didn’t believe him. I don’t know what to believe. I wanted to hear it from you.”

  She looked directly at Aurora and their eyes met.

  “What, you want me to back up Troy’s story?” Aurora asked. “Because I can guess what he’s told you. Or you want the truth?”

  “I want the truth.”

  Aurora took a deep breath.

  “He tried to rape me.,” she said.

  “He tried?” Brandy repeated. “So he stopped.”

  “Only because I told him that I’m pregnant.”

  “And are you?”

  “Yeah, I am. I’m not like Troy, I don’t lie,” Aurora said indignantly. “Sorry, was that not what you wanted to hear?”

  “No, but I needed to know. I could tell Troy was lying.”

  Aurora felt surprise at Brandy’s honesty. She had never heard her utter a single bad word about Troy before.

  “I’m sure you’ll find a way to forgive him, though,” Aurora said.

  Brandy didn’t answer but looked down at her hands. Aurora watched her for a moment and was about to open her mouth to speak when Brandy spoke first.

  “I know what it’s like,” she said.

  “Oh really?” Aurora’s voice had risen. She was growing tired of Brandy’s pity act. It was her that Troy had attacked, yet Brandy was acting as if it were her.

  “I was raped,” Brandy said, her voice shaking. “The night you babysat for Zoe.”

  Aurora was momentarily stunned as all the dislike she had always felt for Brandy fought with sympathy in her mind.

  “It was two guys from Jayden Healy’s gang,” Brandy continued, not looking up. “They both did it.
Here on the estate.”

  “That’s why Troy killed Wright?” Aurora asked, before she could stop herself.

  Brandy nodded.

  “Yeah. He was so mad, he wanted payback.”

  “What did you want?” Aurora asked, aware that she was nearly whispering.

  “To forget about it,” Brandy sighed.

  She looked up and Aurora saw that her eyes were dry.

  “So why did he kill Shaniqua?”

  Brandy looked up, startled.

  “You know?” she asked, before sighing, a trace of a smile. “Clint told you then.”

  “Yeah, he told me today. So, why did he kill my sister?”

  Brandy thought it over for a few moments.

  “It was because of me,” Brandy said quietly. “She’d looked at me funny.”

  “And he killed her for that? That’s fucked up.”

  “I know,” Brandy said, looking uncomfortable. She rose to her feet, and looked down at Aurora, “Look, I’d better go.”

  Aurora nodded and followed Brandy out to the front door. She opened it and Brandy stepped out into the cold evening. She turned around and looked into Aurora’s face.

  “I’m sorry, Aurora,” she said. “For everything.”

  Before Aurora could say anything, Brandy turned on her heel and walked away, enveloped by the darkness. Aurora stood in the doorway for a few minutes, staring at the place where Brandy had disappeared into the night.

  Now Brandy knew that Troy’s secret was out of the bag. Aurora was not sure whether or not Brandy would inform Troy. That meant, surely, that she and Clint were now in danger. If Brandy told Troy what she had heard, then Troy would be desperate to silence them before they could get to the police.

  Aurora shuddered and closed the front door, putting the chain on. She went into the lounge and dialled Clint’s mobile. It was off.

  Despite her anger at him, her sense of raw betrayal, she could not help but feel panic flutter in her chest. He was in danger and he might not even know about it yet. Whatever she felt about him now, she couldn’t let him die. She tried his number again and threw her phone down on the sofa in frustration. His phone was still off.

  A thought started up in her mind and she felt her palms go sweaty. What might Clint have down after she had stormed out of his flat earlier? Aurora put a hand to her stomach instinctively. She just hoped she was wrong. She hoped that he hadn’t gone and done something stupid that would put both their lives at risk.