by Nick Roteman
He came into the kitchen and looked about him as he asked how she was.
“I’m good thanks, I hope you’re hungry, I thought I would prepare a roast dinner.”
“Really gosh, that’s wonderful thank you, I do love a roast. Do you need any help?”
She shook her head. “No but I need to concentrate.”
“Ok I’ll leave you and go and have a shower, if you’re sure?”
She waved her hand at him shooing him away, “Yes you need a shower!”
He hesitated in the doorway. “Look I’m sorry if I have been short with you... sorry, you know...” He lamely finished with, as he left and hurriedly ran upstairs.
She turned around but he had gone. Sorry was always a good start she reckoned. But in her experience people said sorry for two reasons, either they knew they were in the wrong and had been caught, or they were hoping to get away with something they had actually done wrong, and sorry was the conduit for a thousand lies. She was pleased with that thought and wondered where she must have read it. She would reserve judgment until after their meal and perhaps tonight would be the night, it had been so long and she was bored with her hand.
Orla had left Auburn after tea and walked slowly back to her flat some distance away. All the way back she was preoccupied. Her flat was unfortunately closer to Freddy’s place than to Oli’s, but as a Community Support Police Officer she was more than used to walking miles over the course of one shift without any problems.
Her shift today was to begin at 8pm but she wanted an unofficial update on the murder of Rachel and now this Natalie. So after quickly showering and changing into her uniform, she managed to be in the station by 7.15, and soon located one of the police constables working on the murder case.
It didn’t take much persuasion and rubbing of the male ego for him to tell her every little detail. It confirmed her thinking and after promising to have a drink with him soon, she left him and sneaked back into the incident room. She noted a couple of names and using one of the computers in there she did a name and address check and deeply satisfied left the room.
Neil Owens her partner was in reception waiting for her when she walked in there five minutes before eight. They greeted each other warmly and off they set. Their route tonight was around the centre of the town, keep a visual presence, as they were expecting trouble later on when the youngsters fell out of the clubs.
At around 11pm Orla stopped her partner. “I need to talk, ask you a favour.”
Neil pulled a face, “Go on.”
“I need to disappear for an hour maybe longer. I can’t tell you.”
“What nothing at all?” he asked.
“I know it’s a lot to ask, will you cover for me please I’m asking?”
Neil nodded at his partner. He was fond of her and trusted her with his life, although he hoped that part would never be an issue.
“Yeah go on, I’ll keep to the same route, you catch me up,” he replied. “Give us a ring in fact,” he suggested, “That way I can tell you exactly where I am.”
Orla smiled at Neil and gave him a quick hug, which took him by surprise, and disappeared into the darkness.
Left alone he glanced about him, it was amazing how dark the street suddenly seemed.
“Shit!” he mumbled, as he set off again heading for the centre of town and possible trouble. He tried to put out of his mind what she was up to, but he couldn’t help thinking about it. What if it was totally illegal, what would be his stance on that? Perhaps he was possibly being over dramatic, knowing her she was probably having a clandestine meeting with one of her girlfriends or boys. After working with her for the last few months he was still uncertain which way she swung.
Darren left the pub shortly after 11.30 with his mate Steve. They walked along together until it was time to go their separate ways. Darren continued on to his semi, in the student’s housing area. He was happy to put up with the obvious noise of a thousand students because it was cheap.
As he opened his front door, he failed to hear the figure running at him. They collided and he flew through the open door and thudded onto the floor inside, but before he could react he received a heavy blow for his troubles on the side of his head, and everything went woozy.
He came round a little later, his head throbbed but worse still he couldn’t move. He was lying on his back on his bed, his feet were tied together and his hands were handcuffed. He tried struggling but it just made his head worse so he desisted and lay there panting.
A woman in uniform came into his view and stared down at him. He was more shocked by being held captive by a woman, than the fact she was wearing a police uniform.
“What the fuck?” He cried out, but a vicious back hander from her stunned him.
The stinging pain died down a fraction and he attempted to speak again, but she was there standing menacingly right over him, so he just glared and tried to look tough.
She smiled down at him. “Now I ask the questions you answer them, and maybe you walk out of here, right!”
“You, you can’t do this, let me go you slag!”
She slapped him again and he dropped the bravado.
“That’s better, let’s try again, who was with you when you went to see Natalie Lamont?”
“Who darling, don’t know her!”
“Wrong answer,” she hissed as another hard slap followed.
A trickle of blood mixed with spittle ran down his chin onto his chest as he shook his head. “Don’t know her, I told you!” He screamed.
She walked out of his line of sight to return holding her trusty truncheon in her right hand, which she tapped in her left hand.
“Let’s stop this crap. You were careless, one of your fingerprints was found inside her house. So I ask you again, who was there with you, last chance?”
“Oh yeah yeah, I was there a few days ago, alright, gave her a quote for a job, must of touched something. Don’t know anything else ok. Just let me go will you!” he warned her. “You can’t do this to me, you can’t you’re a police woman, let me go.”
The truncheon hit him on the bridge of his nose smashing it with ease. Blood and bone matter sprayed his bed, and covered his face and upper body.
He blinked furiously fear showing in his eyes.
“You or your mate beat her up and doused petrol over her and burnt her alive, you don’t deserve to live you’re an animal and should be put down.” She calmly said.
“Wait, wait,” he said as best he could; his voice had a gurgling twang to it caused by the amount of blood he was spitting and swallowing.
“I was there ok but I only roughed her up a bit, then I left, she was alright. Steve he done it, must have but I weren’t there right! I shouldn’t have left him.”
Orla moved away and returned carrying a towel. She gently wiped some of the blood off his face, and smiled down at him.
“Give me his address and we’ll call it time. It’s him I want, you can go.”
He willingly gave her his address. Then she indeed ended it by beating him to death. She wiped some of the excess blood off her truncheon, threw the towel over his limp body and went into his messy kitchen to rinse her truncheon properly under the tap.
Turning off the lights, she left him lying there in his own blood and quietly pulled his front door to. She kept on walking until she was out of sight of the house without looking back, before stopping to check her watch. It was twenty minutes past midnight, not bad she thought. She fished out her mobile and rang Neil who sounded extremely relieved to hear from her, and caught up with him outside one of the noisier night-clubs, it was back to business as usual.
Chapter Nineteen
The phone rang and Alice picking up the extension in the kitchen answered it.
She went out into the hall and called out. “Phone
darling, it’s one of your friends I think!”
“Cheers darling,” Tom shouted back, I’ll take it in the study, thanks!”
He picked up the receiver, “Yeah Tom speaking.”
“Tom, Tom it’s me we need to talk, you alone?”
“No wait, wait!” He warned. “Thanks I’ve got it....” He shouted out to Alice.
He waited until he heard the click before putting the receiver to his ear. “Ok I’m alone now, what’s up?”
“Bad news Tom, Darren, he’s bloody dead...” Steve replied his voice devoid of any emotion.
“What the fuck, where?”
“Yeah dead, found dead at home, can’t believe it, only had a drink with him day before yesterday after..., yeah, don’t believe it!”
“But how, he wasn’t ill, what the hell happened Steve?”
“Don’t know yet that’s all I’ve heard. Tried going over to his place, but road is bloody cordoned off. Don’t know what to do mate!”
Tom went silent.
“You still there Tom?”
“Yeah, can’t believe it, Darren was a good guy, it’s crazy.”
“Don’t know what to think....”
“Ok look I’m on my way back. Meet me in the pub, give me a couple of hours!”
“Yeah see you there, thanks...” was the muted reply as he hung up.
Tom was back in Bournemouth by 6 o’clock and actually found a space right outside the Owl and Parrot on the corner of Trodds Lane. He went straight inside.
Steve was there in their corner along with Wayne and Jerry. Tom had just said hello to Wayne and Jerry when Steve blurted out.
“We done that girl for you like you wanted, and now this...”
“What, when, for fuck sake keep your voice down?” Tom growled back to him, desperate to silence him.
“Couple of nights ago.”
“Jesus you should’ve told me, I shouldn’t be fucking here, fuck it!”
“Yeah bad business, poor Darren. You know anything Tom?” Jerry asked butting in, assuming that’s what they were discussing.
“Who’s for a drink?” Tom said changing the subject and getting to his feet; he needed time to think.
He returned with a tray and four pints on it, which he handed out. They each took a drink but fell silent as they drank. Jerry was the first to speak.
“Do we know what actually happened, how he died?” Jerry uttered to no one in particular.
The barman, the nephew of the landlord, leant over the counter in their direction. “It’s just been on the fucking news, Darren was bloody murdered lads!”
Jerry exploded. “Murdered, fuck sake why?”
“Can’t be, must be a mistake, not Darren!” Wayne chimed.
Steve said nothing clutching his pint tightly in his hands. He stared at it muttering to himself. “It’ll be me next, what have we done? It’ll be me.”
Tom glanced across at him shocked at how terrified he suddenly appeared, he was usually so self-assured and loud. Steve sipped his pint nervously, “What we done Tom, help me, we only done what you wanted.”
“What’s he saying Tom?”
“I don’t know, he’s just in shock, it’s terrible I can’t believe it either!”
Wayne had downed his pint and got up. “I’ll get another round in, we need it.”
“Yeah good idea, I’ll come with you.” Jerry said.
Steve was shaking, still staring into his pint glass. He looked up at Tom. “Tom you gotta help me, I don’t want to die, first Jim now Darren.”
Tom moved his chair closer to him and put his arm around his shoulders, he flinched. “We’ll be alright Steve, no one’s going to hurt you I promise.” But he was shocked at Steve’s appearance. Normally so full of it, he actually seemed to have shrunk, and looked terrible. How the hell would he hold up to the police questioning him which they would eventually, he hoped for his sake he wasn’t going to be a liability, there was no room for that. He didn’t believe in carrying excess baggage, and had too much to lose over nothing more than a friendship, if it came down to him or Steve, he would give him up without another thought.
Wayne and Jerry returned and handed out the drinks.
Wayne looked at Steve and glanced at Tom catching his eye, “What’s got into him?”
“Just shock, leave him be.”
“We’re all in bloody shock!” tonight
“It’s like we’re under attack,” Steve muttered, glancing nervously about him as if someone other than them was listening in. “We’re all going to die.”
“Cool it Steve for fuck’s sake,” Tom hissed back.
“What’s he saying now?” Wayne demanded loudly. “Who’s going to die?”
“Yeah he’s getting on my nerves,” Jerry added. “It’s our Darren who’s dead, we need to think about him, pull yourself together Steve, what’s the matter with you?”
“Let’s find out what happened before we do or say anything, agreed lads, no panicking talking out of turn yeah!”
Wayne glared at Tom. “I’m not bloody panicking matey!”
“Me neither,” Jerry agreed. “But if Darren was killed we do whoever did it, right, right Wayne!”
“Right I’m with you mate. No one messes with us!”
Steve not listening was mumbling incoherently still focusing on his half drunk pint.
Wayne with an unusual touch of compassion got up and walked around to Steve’s side. “Steve mate, you need to get a grip just keep calm, ok. We’re all in shock.” He said quietly. “No one’s going to die here, alright, not tonight, we’re all here.”
Steve became quite animated suddenly looking up glancing from Jerry to Wayne. “Yes but you don’t bloody know what I’ve done Wayne, it’s me next, it is!” He retorted before staring straight at Tom. “You gotta help me Tommy, I helped you right, you owe me, they’re after me and I’ll be next!” He stopped gibbering and grabbing his pint downed it in one before slamming the glass on the table next to him and lurching wildly to his feet.
“I need a real drink, anyone else?” he asked glaring at the others in turn. They shook their heads and he stumbled off to the counter to attract a barperson.
With Steve away, Tom lowered his voice. “We’re going to have to keep an eye on him, he’s cracked, I’ve never seen him like this.”
“Me neither, never seen him this way, what the fuck’s got into him?” Jerry said shaking his head.
“Me neither, but I agree with Tom.” Wayne chipped in. “We need to say nothing about nothing right! Just keep our eyes and ears open and keep in touch.”
Like co-conspirators the three nodded to each another, and unknown to two of them, in that second Steve’s fate was decided.
At closing time Tom offered to see Steve home, but suddenly realised in the three years he had known him he had never been to his place. As they walked back, Steve assured him repeatedly that he would of course never say anything about what he and Darren had done; he could rely on him.
Tom lit up and offered him one too. “Look I think you need to tell me in detail exactly what you and Darren did to her right, in detail.”
Auburn had been working hard all morning happy in her own little world, when Moira popped her head around the office door to ask if she fancied a quick bite to eat. At the mention of the ‘food’ word Auburn instantly stopped what she was doing and left her desk to join her.
“Shall we sneak out for a pizza?” Moira whispered in her ear. “I’m really hungry today.”
“I’m always hungry you know!”
“Yes dear.” Moira tittered as she put her arm through Auburn’s and they walked out of the library together.
“Can we go to the usual, oh please?” Auburn asked excitedly.
Moira gave
her a little squeeze; she kept forgetting how innocent and childlike she was most of the time, in contrast to most of the over confident youth of today.
The usual meant the pizza house a street away which at lunchtime served a two for one. This meant that they could order three pizzas between them, Auburn of course finishing off two of them, before Moira had eaten half of the remaining one. It always fascinated her watching Auburn eat, just trying to imagine where she put all that food, but being old school she liked youngsters with healthy appetites.
On their return Auburn pulled on her arm and slowed her pace. “Will you make a call for me it’s important?” she asked frowning up at her.
“Yes I don’t see why not if that’s your wish. Shall I use your mobile dear, or would you prefer I phone from the office?”
“My mobile’s fine, I’ll dial the number and hand it to you. You just ask if Tom is there and can you speak to him, ok?”
“Umm yes, are you sure, what if he answers the phone, what shall I say to him?”
“Say bollocks and hang up!” Auburn tittered, before bursting into loud laughter.
“Thank you Auburn dear, but I am not saying that word even to him, you are awful!”
“What word do you mean, bollocks, bollocks!” she repeated giggling.
“Stop it, people are looking.”
When she had calmed down Moira did as asked and waited to be handed the phone. Alice answered.
Moira keeping calm asked politely if she could speak to Tom about a business matter as she had been given this number to call him on.
At the mention of the word business Alice told her he was actually in Bournemouth and she was ringing her in Weybridge. She asked her if she wanted to contact him there.
Moira thank her and ended the call.
Auburn thanked Moira for making the call but still refused to be drawn on what that was all about. Moira attempted to beg her not to do anything foolhardy and definitely not on her own and she solemnly promised she wouldn’t do anything silly, but she did have her left hand behind her back with her fingers crossed. It was such a stupid practice and surely meant everybody would just cross their fingers and lie their heads off; people were so deceitful.