Piece Of My Heart

by Peter Robinson

  “That puts me in my place. How was it when you met up at work this morning? A bit embarrassing?”

  “Well, it’ll be ‘Winsome’ and ‘Guv’ in the workplace, but we had a bit of a giggle over it all.”

  “So what started it?”

  Annie felt another wave of nausea. She let it go, the way she did thoughts in meditation, and it seemed to work, at least for the moment. “DS Templeton,” she said finally.

  “Kev Templeton? Was this about the promotion? Because-”

  “No, it wasn’t about the promotion. And keep your voice down. Of course Winsome’s pissed off about that. Who wouldn’t be? We know she was the right person for the job, but we also know the right person doesn’t always get the job, even if she is a black female. I know you white males always like to complain when a job goes elsewhere for what you see as political reasons, but it’s not always the case, you know.”

  “So what, then?”

  Annie explained how Templeton had behaved with Kelly Soames.

  “It sounds a bit harsh,” he said when she had finished. “But I don’t suppose he was to know the girl would be physically sick.”

  “He enjoyed it. That was the point,” said Annie.

  “So Winsome thought?”

  “Yes. Look, don’t tell me you’re going to go all male and start defending the indefensible here, because if you are, I’m off. I’m not in the mood for an all-lads-together rally.”

  “Christ, Annie, you ought to know me better than that. And there’s only one lad here, as far as I can see.”

  “Well… you know what I mean.” Annie ran her hand through her tousled hair. “Shit, I’m hungover and I’m having a bad-hair day, too.”

  “Your hair looks fine.”

  “You don’t mean it, but thank you. Anyway, that’s the story. Oh, and Superintendent Bloody Gervaise had a go at me yesterday in her office.”

  “What were you doing there?”

  “I went to complain about the personal remarks she made about me during the briefing. At the very least I expected an apology.”

  “And you got?”

  “A bollocking, more personal remarks, and an assignment to statement reading.”

  “That’s steep.”

  “Very. And she warned me off you.”

  “What?”

  “It’s true.” Annie looked down into her coffee. “She seems to think we’re an item again.”

  “Where could she possibly have got that idea from?”

  “I don’t know.” Annie paused. “Templeton’s in thick with her.”

  “So?”

  Annie leaned forward and rested her hands on the table. “She knew about the pint you had at the Cross Keys, that first night, when we went to the scene of Barber’s murder. And Templeton was there, too. He knew about that. But this… Look, tell me if I’m being paranoid, Alan, but don’t you think it’s a bit suspicious? I think Kev Templeton might be behind it.”

  “But why would he think we were an item, as you put it?”

  “He knows that we were involved before, and we turned up at Moorview Cottage together. We also stayed overnight in London. He’s putting two and two together and coming up with five.”

  Banks looked out of the window, seeming to mull over what Annie had said. “So what’s he up to? Ingratiating himself with the new super?”

  “It looks that way,” said Annie. “Kev’s smart, and he’s also ambitious. He thinks the rest of us are plods. He’s a sergeant already, and he’ll pass his inspector’s boards first chance he gets, too, but he’s also smart enough to know he needs more than good exam results to get ahead in this job. It helps to have recommendations from above. We know our Madame Gervaise thinks she’s cut out for great things, chief constable at the very least, so a bit of coattail riding wouldn’t do Templeton any harm. At least that’s my guess.”

  “Sounds right to me,” said Banks. “And I don’t like what you told me earlier, about the Soames interview. Sometimes we have to do unpleasant things like that – though I believe in this case it could have all been avoided – but we don’t have to take pleasure in them.”

  “Winsome thinks he’s a racist, too. She’s overheard him make the odd comment about ‘darkies’ and ‘Pakis’ when he thinks she’s not listening.”

  “That would hardly make him unique in the force, sadly,” said Banks. “Look, I’ll have a word with him.”

  “Fat lot of good that will do.”

  “Well, we can’t go to Superintendent Gervaise, that’s for certain. Red Ron would probably listen, but that’s too much like telling tales out of school for me. Not my style. No, the way it looks is that if anything’s to be done about Kev Templeton, I’ll have to do it myself.”

  “And what exactly might you do?”

  “Like I said, I’ll have a word, see if I can talk some sense into him. On the other hand, I think it might be even better if I tipped the wink to Gervaise that we’re onto him. She’ll drop him like the proverbial hot potato. I mean, it’s no bloody good having a spy who blows his cover on his first assignment, is it? And gets the wrong end of the stick, into the bargain.”

  “Good point.”

  “Look, I have to go to Leeds to see Ken Blackstone later today. Want to come?”

  “No, thanks.” Annie made a grim face. “Statements to read. And the way I feel today, if I’m doing a menial job, I might even just knock off early, go home and have a long hot bath and an early night.”

  They paid and left the Golden Grill, then walked across the road to the station in the light drizzle. At the front desk, the PC on reception called Annie over. “Got a message for you, miss,” he said. “From Lyndgarth. Local copper’s just called in to say all hell’s broke loose up at the Soames farm. Old man Soames went berserk, apparently.”

  “We’re on our way,” said Annie. She looked at Banks.

  “Ken Blackstone can wait,” he said. “We’d better put our wellies on.”

  Annie drove, and Banks tried to find out what he could over his mobile, but coverage was patchy, and in the end he gave up.

  “That bastard Templeton,” Annie cursed as she turned onto the Lynd-garth road by the Cross Keys in Fordham, visions of flaying Templeton alive and dipping him in a vat of boiling oil flitting through her mind. “I’ll have him for this. He’s not getting away with it.”

  “Calm down, Annie,” Banks said. “Let’s find out what happened first.”

  “Whatever it is, he’s behind it. It’s down to him.”

  “If that’s the case, you might have to join the queue,” said Banks.

  Annie shot him a puzzled glance. “What do you mean?”

  “If you were thinking clearly right now, one of the things that might cross your mind-”

  “Oh, don’t be so bloody patronizing,” Annie snapped. “Get on with it.”

  “One of the things that might cross your mind is that if something has happened as a direct result of DS Templeton’s actions, then the first person to distance herself will be Detective Superintendent Gervaise.”

  Annie looked at him and turned into the drive of the Soames farm. She could see the patrol car up ahead, parked outside the house. “But she told him to do it,” Annie said.

  Banks just smiled. “That was when it seemed like a good idea.”

  Annie pulled up to a sharp halt, sending gobbets of mud flying, and they got out and walked over to the uniformed officer. The door to the farmhouse was open, and Annie could hear the sound of a police radio from inside.

  “PC Cotter, sir,” said the officer on the door. “My partner, PC Watkins, is inside.”

  “What happened?” Banks asked.

  “It’s not entirely clear yet,” said Cotter. “But we had a memo from East-vale Major Crimes asking us to report anything to do with the Soameses.”

  “We’re glad you were so prompt,” Annie cut in. “Is anybody hurt?”

  Cotter looked at her. “Yes, ma’am,” he said. “Young girl. The daughter. She ra
ng the station, and we could hear cursing and things breaking in the background. She was frightened. Told us to come as soon as we could. We came as soon as possible, but by the time we got here… Well, you can see for yourselves.”

  Annie was first inside the farmhouse, and she gave a curt nod to PC Watkins, who was standing in the living room scratching his head at the sight. The room was a wreck. Broken glass littered the floor, one of the chairs had been smashed into the table and splintered, a window was broken and lamps knocked over. The small bookcase had been pulled away from the wall, and its contents joined the broken glass on the floor.

  “The kitchen’s just as bad,” said PC Watkins, “but that seems to be the extent of the damage. Everything’s fine upstairs.”

  “Where’s Soames?” Annie asked.

  “We don’t know, ma’am. He was gone when we arrived.”

  “What about his daughter, Kelly?”

  “Eastvale General, ma’am. We radioed ahead to A and E.”

  “How bad is she?”

  PC Watkins looked away. “Don’t know, ma’am. Hard to say. She looked bad to me.” He gestured back into the room. “Lot of blood.”

  Annie looked again. She hadn’t noticed it before, but now she could see dark stains on the carpet and the broken chair leg. Kelly. Oh, Jesus Christ.

  “Okay,” said Banks, stepping forward. “I want you and your partner to organize a search for Calvin Soames. He can’t have gone far. Get some help from uniformed branch in Eastvale if you need it.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Banks turned to Annie. “Come on,” he said. “There’s nothing more we can do here. Let’s go pay a visit to Eastvale General.”

  Annie didn’t need asking twice. When they got back into the car she thumped the steering wheel with both fists and strained to hold back her tears of anger. Her head was still throbbing from the previous night’s excess. She felt Banks’s hand rest on her shoulder, and her resolve not to cry strengthened. “I’m all right,” she said after a few moments, gently shaking him off. “Just needed to let off a bit of steam, that’s all. And there was me thinking I’d go home early and have a nice bath.”

  “You okay to drive?”

  “I’m fine. Really.” To demonstrate, Annie started the car, set off slowly down the long bumpy drive and didn’t start speeding until she hit the main road.

  Tuesday, 23rd September, 1969

  “Yes, what is it?” Chadwick said when Karen stuck her head around his office door. “I told you I didn’t want to be disturbed.”

  “Urgent phone call. Your wife.”

  Chadwick picked up the phone.

  “Darling, I’m so glad you’re there,” Janet said. “I was worried I wouldn’t be able to reach you. I don’t know what to do.”

  Chadwick could sense the alarm in her voice. “What is it?”

  “It’s Yvonne. The school have rung wanting to know where she is. They said they’d tried to reach me earlier, but I was out shopping. You know what a busybody that headmistress is.”

  “She’s not at school?”

  “No. And she’s not here, either, I checked her room, just in case.”

  “Did you notice anything unusual?”

  “No. Same mess as ever.”

  Chadwick had left for the station before his daughter had even woken up that morning. “How did she seem at breakfast?” he asked.

  “Quiet.”

  “But she left for school as usual?”

  “So I thought. I mean, she took her satchel and she was wearing her mac. It’s not like her, Stan. You know it’s not.”

  “It’s probably nothing,” Chadwick said, trying to ignore the feeling of fear crawling in the pit of his stomach. McGarrity was in jail, but what if one of the others had decided to take revenge for the drugs squad raids? He had probably been foolish to identify himself to Yvonne’s boyfriend, but how else was he supposed to make his point? “Look, I’ll come straight home. You stay there in case she turns up.”

  “Should I call the hospitals?”

  “You might as well,” said Chadwick. “And have a good look around her room. See if there’s anything missing. Clothes and things.” At least that would give Janet something to occupy her time until he got there. “I’m on my way. I’ll be there as quick as I can.”

  Eastvale General Infirmary was the biggest hospital for some distance, and as a consequence the staff there were overworked and its facilities were strained to the limit. Just down King Street, behind the police station, it was a Victorian pile of stone with high drafty corridors and large wards with big sash windows, no doubt to let in the winter’s chill for the TB patients it used to house.

  A and E wasn’t terribly busy, as it was only Thursday lunchtime, and they found Kelly Soames easily enough with the help of one of the admissions nurses. The curtains were drawn around her bed, but more, the nurse said, to give her privacy than for any more serious reasons. When they went through and sat by her, Annie was relieved to see, and hear, that most of the damage was superficial. The blood came almost entirely from a head wound, by far the most serious of her cuts and abrasions, but even this had only caused concussion, and her head was swathed in bandages. Her face was bruised, her lip split, and there was a stitched cut over her eye, but other than that, the nurse assured them, there were no broken bones and no internal injuries.

  Annie felt an immense relief that didn’t diminish her anger against Kevin Templeton and Calvin Soames one bit. It could have been so much worse. She held Kelly’s hand and said, “I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I honestly didn’t know anything like this was going to happen.”

  Kelly said nothing, just continued to stare at the ceiling.

  “Can you tell us what happened?” Banks asked.

  “Isn’t it obvious?” Kelly said. Her speech was a little slurred from the painkillers she had been given, and from the split lip, but she made herself clear enough.

  “I’d rather hear it from you,” Banks said.

  Annie continued to hold Kelly’s hand. “Tell us,” she said. “Where is he, Kelly?”

  “I don’t know,” Kelly said. “Honestly. The last thing I remember is feeling like my head was exploding.”

  “It was a chair leg,” Banks said. “Someone hit you with a chair leg. Was it your father?”

  “Who else would it be?”

  “What happened?”

  Kelly took some of the water Annie offered and flinched when the flexi-straw touched the cut on her lip. She put the glass aside and stared at the ceiling as she spoke in a listless voice. “He’d been drinking. Not like usual, just a couple of pints before dinner, but real drinking, like he used to. Whiskey. He started at breakfast. I told him not to, but he just ignored me. I caught the bus into Eastvale and did some shopping, and when I got back he was still drinking. I could tell he was really drunk by then. The bottle was almost empty, and he was red in the face, muttering to himself. I was worried about him. And scared. As soon as I opened my mouth, he went berserk. Asked me who I thought I was to tell him what to do. To be honest, I really thought he believed I was Mother, the way he was talking to me. Then he got really abusive. I mean just shouting at first, not violent or anything. That was when I phoned the local police station. But as soon as he saw me on the phone, that was it. He went mad. He started hitting me, just slapping and pushing at first, then he punched me. After that, he started breaking things, smashing the furniture. It was all I could do to put my hands in front of my face to protect myself.”

  “He didn’t interfere with you in any way?” Annie asked.

  “No. No. It wasn’t like that at all. He wouldn’t do anything like that. But the names he was calling me… I won’t repeat them. They were the same ones he used to call Mother when they fought.”

  “What happened to your mother?” Annie asked.

  “She died in hospital. There was something wrong with her insides – I don’t know what it was – and at first the doctors didn’t diagnose it in time, then they
thought it was something else. When they finally did get around to operating, it was too late. She never woke up. Dad said something about the anesthetic being wrong, but I don’t know. We never got to the bottom of it and he’s never been able to let it go.”

  “And your father’s been overpossessive ever since?”

  “He’s only got me to take care of him. He can’t take care of himself.” Kelly sipped some more water and coughed, dribbling it down her chin. Annie took a tissue from the table and wiped it away. “Thanks,” said Kelly. “What’s going to happen now? Where’s Dad? What’s going to happen to him?”

  “We don’t know yet,” said Annie, glancing at Banks. “We’ll find him, though. Then we’ll see.”

  “I don’t want anything to happen to him,” Kelly said. “I mean, I know he’s done wrong and all, but I don’t want anything to happen to him.”

  Annie held her hand. It was the old, old story, the abused defending her abuser. “We’ll see,” she said. “We’ll see. Just get some rest for now.”

  Back at the station, Banks found Detective Superintendent Gervaise in her office and told her about Kelly Soames. He also hinted that he knew Templeton had been passing her information and warned her not to put too much trust in its accuracy. It was worth it just to see the expression on her face.

  After that, he tried to put Kelly Soames and her problems out of his mind for a while and focus on the Nick Barber investigation again before setting off to visit Ken Blackstone in Leeds. A couple of DCs had read through the boxes of Barber’s papers sent up from his London flat and found they consisted entirely of old articles, photographs and business correspondence – none of it relating to his Yorkshire trip. He had clearly brought all of his current work with him, and now it was gone. Banks found a Brahms cello sonata on the radio and settled down to have another look through the old MOJO magazines that John Butler had given to him in London.

  It didn’t take him very long to figure out that Nick Barber knew his stuff. In addition to pieces on the Mad Hatters from time to time, there were also articles on Shelagh MacDonald, JoAnn Kelly, Comus and Bridget St. John. His interest in the Hatters seemed to have started, as Banks had been told, about five years ago, well after his original interest in music, which he seemed to have had since he was a teenager.