“What did she have to offer you in return for any such deal?”
“She had the knife that Troy Banks had used to kill Shaniqua Curtis,” Serena said. The jury looked interested then, and Troy swallowed. “It contained blood from the victim and had Troy’s finger prints on the handle.”
“How did she come to be in possession of it?”
“Troy had asked her to dispose of it as evidence,” Serena replied. “She had kept it in her possession, and she handed it in to me and my colleagues.”
“And Troy Banks was then arrested presumably?”
“He was, sir,” Serena confirmed. “I was the arresting officer.”
“During questioning, did he confess to the murder?” Lindhurst asked.
“No,” Serena replied. “He maintained that he was innocent.”
“In your professional opinion, you believe he is guilty though?”
“Yes, the evidence all points to that fact,” Serena said, with a glance towards the dock. Troy couldn’t help but narrow his eyes at her. “And during questioning, when I showed him the murder weapon, I saw in his eyes that he had used that knife to kill Shaniqua Curtis.”
“Objection,” Khan called out.
“My Lord, she is giving her professional opinion,” Lindhurst countered. “She has been a detective for years, and it is –”
“Sustained,” Judge Harksaw said.
“No further questions,” Lindhurst sighed.
He smiled at Serena Patterson and returned to the seat behind his desk. Khan stepped forward and fixed the detective with cold eyes, and Troy leant forward slightly, eager for the onslaught.
“Detective Patterson, you were brought up from Cornwall to head the investigation, weren’t you?” Khan asked. Serena nodded. “Did Superintendent Jenkins give you a reason for selecting you over more experienced officers who were already in London and who could have handled the case?”
Serena’s smile faltered.
“I was brought up on the Goldsworth Estate,” Serena replied. “He thought that my past experiences there might make be better informed of what we were dealing with than another officer.”
“Yes, you were raised on the estate,” Khan nodded, referring to her notes. She returned her gaze to Serena, lips pursed. “Were you ever associated to a gang in your youth?”
Serena balked.
“Your brother was convicted several times during your youth, is that correct?” Khan continued.
Lindhurst shot to his feet.
“Objection.”
Judge Harksaw fixed Khan with a beady stare.
“Where are you going with this?” he asked.
Khan clasped her hands in front of her.
“My point is that Detective Patterson’s past experiences of that environment, whilst seen by Superintendent Jenkins as an asset, could in fact have clouded her judgement,” Khan responded. Serena’s face was stern, but Judge Harksaw allowed it. The corners of Khan’s lips lifted in a half-smile, and she continued. “Detective Patterson, do you acknowledge that this may have ruled many other officers unsuitable for such an investigation? In fact, was it not your inability to separate your past experiences and your work that drove your move to Cornwall and away from London in the first place?”
Serena floundered, and Khan jotted something down in her pad. The jury seemed to look at Patterson differently now, and Troy hoped they were beginning to doubt her reliability.
“Moving on,” Khan said swiftly, “You said that you had no suspects in the murder case, and then saw Troy Banks and his friend, Clint Jackson, watching you on the estate. Is that usually sufficient grounds to suspect someone of murder?”
Troy looked at Serena and knew she was growing uncomfortable.
“It is not usual, no,” Serena admitted. “But –”
“You did several checks to identify the two young men,” Khan pressed on, quashing Serena’s objections. “Then you proceeded to question Troy’s girlfriend, his friends and classmates. Did any of these people tell you that Troy was the killer?”
“No, not initially,” Serena conceded.
“You say in your statement that they were uncomfortable under questioning,” Khan went on. “And that this convinced you that they were covering up for Troy. Did you not consider that there are plenty of other reasons for a teenager to be uncomfortable in talking to a detective? Especially given the nature of your enquiries and your aggressive pursuit of Troy?”
“I knew –” Serena protested, but Khan was already pressing on.
“You were warned, were you not, by one of your colleagues, that your questioning of Troy and his friends was tantamount to harassment, were you not?” Khan asked. The jury looked at Serena with doubt now, Troy could see it, and he fought hard not to break into a grin. Serena looked shaken by the barrage of questions, and Lindhurst was blushing at his desk. “In fact, from your statement, it seems that you were so intent on pinning this murder on Troy Banks that you stopped looking down any other avenues of investigation, is that right?”
“There were no other lines of enquiry,” Serena insisted.
“Is that simply because you refused to look in any other direction besides Troy Banks?” Khan asked, and Serena bowed her head. Troy could see she was fighting to hold her tongue. Khan was quiet for a moment, letting Serena’s discomfort speak more than words could, then went on, her voice softer now. “Detective Patterson, I don’t envy you your job. You make split-second decisions every day. Combined with the fact that your past traumatic experiences on the Goldsworth must have resurfaced when you came back to take up the investigation, is it at all possible that you misjudged the situation in believing Troy Banks was the killer, and simply ignored other possible explanations because you were so focused on proving him guilty rather than carrying out an unbiased investigation?” Her words hung in the air for a long moment before Serena softly cleared her throat.
“I may have approached the investigation the wrong way,” Serena relented in a quiet voice, far from the bravado she had shown when she had first walked to the witness box. “But I am in no doubt that Troy Banks killed Shaniqua Curtis.”
Khan glanced back down at her notes and returned her gaze to Serena.
“No further questions,” she said. Serena looked visibly relieved by that. The jury watched her leave the witness box, and Troy saw that the seeds of doubt had been planted in their minds. If Khan kept this up, he knew that he would walk out of here a free man. He couldn’t wait to see the rest of the witnesses who took the stand crumble under her questioning.
He looked at Serena’s retreating back, shoulders slightly slumped now. He saw Aurora watching her too, and he saw the disappointment on her face. He knew that he was in good hands, and he returned his gaze to Lindhurst, who had stood up.
“The Crown will call our next witness,” he said, looking shaken now. “The forensic analyst who conducted an examination of Shaniqua Curtis’ body.”
Troy’s shoulders relaxed now and he realised his hands had stopped shaking. He was in no doubt now that his freedom was just a few short days away.
* * *
Aurora rose with the rest of the courtroom and watched Judge Harksaw leave the bench and disappear through a back door behind the bench. When he had gone, the clerk dismissed the attendants and Aurora felt a break in the tension within the room. They had broken for lunch, though Aurora felt far from hungry after listening to the coroner and the forensic analyst recounting Shaniqua’s injury and discussing the murder weapon.
She got caught up in the wave of people leaving the courtroom and momentarily lost her mother, before finding her a few moments later as she emerged through the crowd out in the corridor.
“How are you feeling?” Aurora asked her, guiding her down the corridor, away from the swathes of people heading towards the atrium to find lunch. “You don’t look so great.”
“Thanks for that,” Marlena said grimly. “I need a drink.”
“Mum,” Aurora groaned quiet
ly.
“Only a quick cider,” Marlena shrugged off her concern, looking around. “I think I saw a pub down the road as we came in. I might go for a quick one. You fancy that?”
Aurora shook her head, rubbing her baby bump. Marlena kept quiet, looking torn between staying with her and going for her drink.
“Go on then, but just one,” Aurora said. “I’ll stay here and grab a coffee.”
Marlena smiled, kissed her on the cheek and hurried off, cutting a path through the people still milling about in the corridor outside the courtroom. Aurora knew this was just as hard for her mum as it was for her. She often forgot how much her mother was suffering, and she felt bad for resenting her over the last few days. Her mother had lost a daughter, her eldest daughter, and it had cut her deeply.
She was about to ask someone for directions to the nearest coffee machine when somebody tapped her on the shoulder. Aurora spun around, fearing it might be a member of Troy’s family come to speak to her, but she smiled in relief as Serena Patterson smiled back at her.
“I just thought I’d come and say hello,” Serena said, unable to hide her glance at the baby bump. “Congratulations,” she said.
“Thanks,” Aurora beamed. “And thanks for today, for going on the stand.”
“It’s my job,” Serena said. Her look softened. “But even if it wasn’t, I’d have done it anyway. For you and your mum, and for Shaniqua.”
Aurora knew she was telling the truth and she was pleased. She looked around, an eye out for a coffee machine.
“You looking for somebody?” Serena asked.
“I was going to grab a coffee,” Aurora replied. “You can join me if you like, if you know where we can get one.”
Serena nodded, a smile on her lips again.
“There’s a great one across the street,” she said.
Aurora let the detective lead her down the corridor and out of the building, the warm sunshine a surprise after the relative gloom inside the courtroom. Serena filled her in on what she had been doing since they had last met, and Aurora wondered if she judged Aurora for being pregnant, whether she would think it a waste that she had not done anything of note in the time since they had last spoken.
Across the street at the coffee shop, Serena ordered two coffees and paid, despite Aurora’s protest. Serena sat across from her at corner table near the plate-glass window.
“You probably think I’ve thrown away my future,” Aurora sighed as she waited for her coffee to cool down. She gestured to her baby bump.
“No, not at all,” Serena said. “I had a baby when I wasn’t much older than you. He’s the best thing that ever happened to me.”
Aurora was surprised. Serena had not told her that before, though Aurora knew that it was not as if she had ever asked her. She had just assumed that she had no children, that she had dedicated her life to fighting crime.
“How’s Clint doing?” Serena asked, pouring milk into her mug. Aurora struggled to find an answer, and Serena smiled. “I’ll bet it’s hard for him to adjust to being back on the estate. It was hard enough for me to come back.”
Aurora nodded. She wasn’t sure why, but she felt a little hurt that Serena had chosen to defend Clint. Aurora loved him, she did, but she still resented him at times. He had been granted forgiveness, it seemed, and now people thought he was being so brave for testifying when it was through his own choices he had witnessed Shan’s murder in the first place. As if reading the conflict on her face, Serena took a sip of coffee and gave an understanding nod.
“You’re both young,” she said, “And you’ve both had a lot to deal with. Not to mention you’re nine months pregnant. When the trial is over, after things have settled down, then you’ll start to see things differently.”
“I know,” Aurora sighed. She knew it was true, she was just worried about what she might see differently. Would she think that Clint had been a big mistake and that she never should have forgiven him for being a part of her sister’s death? She feared her own judgement, and yet she knew that she couldn’t fool herself forever. At some point she would have to sit down and really look into her thoughts, see what she really felt. It was a frightening prospect, but it had to be done sometime. Or maybe, she thought, the trial had just brought back old memories, old tensions, and that, as Serena said, the hurt would fade in time.
She took a sip of coffee and the hot liquid burnt her tongue. She swallowed and felt her throat burn, then her stomach. Her stomach gave a twinge and she wondered if coffee had been a mistake.
“I think I might need the bathroom,” Aurora said, standing up, her chair scraping against the floor. “I think –” She stopped, a hand flying to her stomach as she felt another painful twinge. Serena rose to her feet, clasping her shoulders, looking at her with alarm.
“Aurora, what’s wrong?” she asked.
Another twinge made Aurora grasp the table, and she sucked in air, screwing up her face against the wave of pain. The next twinge was lower, and she felt a rush of water fill her underwear, the liquid trickling down her legs and pooling in her shoes and on the tiled floor beneath her. She looked down, horrified, and Serena followed her gaze. Other customers around them were looked wide-eyed at her, whether from disgust or concern she didn’t know or care.
“Did your waters just break?” Serena asked. She pulled out her phone. Aurora knew that Serena was right, and that meant the baby was coming. She gave out another groan, clutching her stomach with one hand as she gripped the edge of the table with the other.
“I’m calling an ambulance,” Serena assured her, phone at her ear.
Aurora shook her head.
“No, no, I can’t be having the baby now,” Aurora said, crying out as another contraction came. She tried to formulate another sentence, but a wave of pain rolled over her, rendering her almost speechless. “I’m having the baby,” she managed, and she knew the fear was showing in her face, because Serena gave a cautious, but affirmative nod. “I’m actually having the baby,” Aurora repeated, groaning as another contraction confirmed it for her.
* * *
Brandy looked at the time on her phone and knew that Troy’s trial had been underway for half a day. The thought was strange, picturing him in the dock, wondering if he was scared or smug, whether he was remorseful or not. She doubted he was, but she was sure stranger things had happened. She couldn’t bring herself to care too much though, she was more worried about herself.
The trial had started and she was due to give evidence and take the stand this week. She was terrified by the thought of standing in front of everyone and recounting what had happened the night Shaniqua Curtis had died. She was more worried that she would have to admit that it was because of her she had been stabbed, because Shaniqua had looked at her funny and she had made a big deal about it. The stupid bitch shouldn’t have cut her eyes at me, Brandy thought, frustrated that her life would be tainted by the events of that night.
“Why do you look so fucking depressed?” Adrianna asked, stretched out on the slope of the playing field where they were relaxing in the sun. Her bottle of diet coke, with a liberal amount of vodka mixed in, was half finished beside her. Brandy swigged from her own bottle, and frowned at her.
“Why do you think?” Brandy answered back. “You know what day it is.”
“Oh right, the trial,” Adrianna nodded, unconcerned. “Big deal.”
“Not to you, but to me it is,” Brandy snapped. “I’ve got to testify.”
“And?” Adrianna shrugged, closing her eyes as she leant towards the sun.
Brandy gritted her teeth, swallowing down some choice words she’d have loved to throw at the blonde bitch beside her. She sometimes wondered whether she had met her match in her. People had called her a bitch before, but she seemed tame in comparison to Adrianna.
“You could be a bit more supportive,” Brandy suggested, taking a long drink of vodka and coke. “You know, like a mate is supposed to be.”
“Whatever,” Ad
rianna groaned. “If it was the other way around, you’d be the same.” Brandy thought she was probably right, and that grated on her even more. Adrianna looked at her, eyes narrowed. “Anyway, we’re supposed to be having fun here, but you’re just fucking depressing me.”
“Shut the fuck up,” Brandy retorted.
“You’re getting too soft,” Adrianna said. “Having that kid made you soft.”
“No, it hasn’t.”
“Well, something’s sucked the backbone out of you for sure.”
Brandy glared at her, anger simmering.
“What the hell would you know?” Brandy asked. “All you’ve done is spread your legs for a bunch of guys who can barely remember your name.”
“Fuck off.”
“No, you fuck off,” Brandy shot back.
Adrianna stood up, patting her skirt to get rid of any grass stains, and snatched up her bottle and handbag, eyeing Brandy with disdain.
“You know what your problem is?” she asked, and Brandy rolled her eyes. Adrianna smirked at her. “You’re just pissed off because you ain’t the top girl round here anymore. You lost when your man got nicked, and you’re just jealous because now I’m rising to the top whilst you’re back to being a fucking nobody.”
Brandy was shocked by her words, and she opened her mouth to respond, but Adrianna had turned on her heel and was hurrying back up the slope and down the path towards the estate. Brandy spat on the ground where Adrianna had been laying a moment ago, wondering whether she had been speaking the truth. Her thoughts quickly turned to tomorrow, and what going to court would mean for her.
* * *
Charley hugged her mum goodbye then followed Asher up the path and into her block of flats, not even wrinkling her nose up at the stench she normally complained about.
At the front door of her flat, she hesitated. She didn’t want to bring any bad energy into the flat, especially with her son inside, but she couldn’t wait out on the landing to feel better. Her mum had told her she had been on the phone to her dad, and that added to her sense of unease. She had never known her father until last year, when he had contacted her. She had quickly bonded with him, but when Bolton had been killed she had learnt that her boyfriend had been working for Uncle Jasper, the formidable mob boss, who happened to be her father’s brother, making him her uncle. The thought sickened her, and she had hated her father and all his family then. Her father had found out what his brother had done and had put a round of bullets in his brother, killing him, and he was currently locked-up and looking at a long stretch inside. Charley didn’t feel bad for him. She didn’t like him, but she still felt a little relief that he had taken out Uncle Jasper, the man who had ordered Bolton’s death, and who she was sure had contributed in part to turning Dante into such a monster.
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