Left for Dead: A Maeve Kerrigan Novella (Maeve Kerrigan Novels)

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Left for Dead: A Maeve Kerrigan Novella (Maeve Kerrigan Novels) Page 7

by Casey, Jane


  ‘Do you think he’s told his girlfriend how he really feels then?’

  ‘His …’

  ‘Girlfriend.’ He nodded. ‘That’s right, he’s got a girlfriend. Leila. She’s seven months pregnant. He lives with her.’

  In the house that was on such a busy road, he’d insisted I stop around the corner. And then he’d kissed me and told me he was aching to see me again, and then he’d checked himself out in the little mirror in the sun-visor and he’d left.

  I was such an idiot.

  Now that Andy had started talking about Gary, there was a chance he might never stop. The words were tumbling out of him. ‘He’s slept around on her ever since they moved in together. He said it was as if he had something to prove to himself.’

  ‘That he’s an arsehole?’ I suggested.

  ‘That, definitely.’

  ‘I thought the two of you were mates.’

  He looked deeply uncomfortable. ‘I thought he was all right, you know. I thought he was a laugh.’

  ‘And you’ve changed your mind.’

  Andy frowned. ‘You believe me, don’t you?’

  ‘I don’t …’ want to believe you, was what I wanted to say. ‘I don’t know what to believe. Tell me the truth. Are you in on the betting?’

  I knew from his face that he was. ‘I didn’t think he was serious. It was ages ago. I didn’t even know you then.’

  ‘You don’t know me now.’ I let that hang in the air for a second, then followed it up with, ‘What are you trying to do? What do you get out of this?’

  He rocked back on his heels, surprised, and then his expression darkened. ‘I’m not trying to do anything except warn you. I didn’t think it was fair if he tricked you into shagging him. If you still want to do him, that’s your business. I don’t know. Maybe you can forget about his girlfriend and their baby.’

  ‘If they even exist.’

  His face had gone red, the freckles almost disappearing. ‘Ask him.’

  ‘I’ll certainly tell him we had this chat.’

  ‘I’m trying to help you out and you’re dropping me in the shit? Next time, remind me not to bother.’

  ‘You’re telling me to be suspicious of him. It just makes sense for me to be wary of you, doesn’t it? Especially if you’ve got something to lose if I do sleep with him.’

  The answer I got was a dirty look before he flung open the door and stormed out. I stayed where I was and bit the edge of my thumbnail, thinking about what he’d said and how he’d said it. Then I thought about how Gary had behaved with me earlier. His single-minded pursuit of me that I’d thought was passion now looked rather like opportunism. Then I thought about what Chris had said: that Andy liked me.

  I still thought he had a funny way of showing it.

  * * *

  Going through the motions – that was about all you could say I was managing at the start of the shift. We were busy, which was a blessing. A further blessing was that Gary had already been deployed by the time I got to the car park to find Chris inspecting our car for the night. I didn’t want to have to talk to Gary yet. I was veering between trying to persuade myself that Andy had misunderstood about Andy’s flatmate (obviously not girlfriend) and cold horror that he might have been right.

  I sleepwalked through two vehicle checks and three stop-and-searches, mildly gratified that the one I’d decided to pick up had a pocket full of pills and a fat roll of cash down his pants. I arrested him and we ended up back at the nick, shepherding him through the procedure that admitted him to custody. It wasn’t his first time to be arrested, by any means and he was cooperative. Still, it took a couple of hours to deal with him and we weren’t back out on the streets until after one. I sat in silence while Chris drove, lost in my own thoughts.

  ‘Everything all right?’

  I looked at Chris, surprised. ‘Yeah. Why?’

  ‘You’re quiet.’

  ‘Just thinking.’ I hesitated for a second. ‘Do you know what happened with Gary yesterday?’

  He rubbed his chin, not looking at me. ‘Why do you ask?’

  ‘Someone told me it was common knowledge that he’d gone home with me.’

  ‘Who said that?’

  ‘Does it matter?’

  ‘It was the first thing I heard when I came in to work,’ Chris admitted.

  ‘I didn’t sleep with him,’ I said. ‘Did you hear that too?’

  ‘I—’ He broke off and grimaced. ‘I heard it was a done deal until he had to leave.’

  ‘There’s no such thing.’ I’d have stopped him, I was fairly sure. The more I thought about it the more I imagined myself pulling my shirt together, saying no, not yet. Taking charge of a situation that had been far out of my control.

  Actually, I had no idea what would have happened.

  ‘Chris, is it true that Gary bet he could sleep with me?’

  ‘Ah. You heard about that too.’

  So that was a yes. Score another for Andy. ‘And is it true he has a girlfriend?’ I asked in a small voice.

  ‘I don’t know the ins and outs of Gary’s love life,’ Chris said. ‘But it wouldn’t surprise me if that was true.’

  ‘Why didn’t you warn me?’ I could hear the hurt in my voice, and Chris probably didn’t miss it either.

  ‘Not my place to get in the way, love.’

  ‘That’s a crap excuse.’

  Chris’s head whipped around at that. ‘Look, I’ve worked with Gary for a long time. I know what he’s like. It’s a bit of fun for him and it might have been a bit of fun for you too – I don’t know. It’s the kind of thing you have to learn to deal with, either way.’

  ‘Why do I have to learn to deal with it? I bet this kind of thing didn’t happen to you when you were starting out.’

  ‘No, it didn’t, but I wasn’t a pretty young girl.’

  ‘Which doesn’t make me a legitimate target for all my colleagues,’ I pointed out. ‘I’m entitled to expect a bit of respect.’

  ‘No, you have to earn that respect.’ Chris sighed. ‘I’m not your dad. I’m not going to look after you, Maeve. You have to stand on your own two feet. Now, I told Gary I didn’t like the idea of him trying to sleep with you and he told me to mind my own business. He told me it would only happen if you wanted him to sleep with you, and that was your choice, so I should keep out of it.’

  ‘How convenient. So you didn’t have to feel guilty about it.’

  ‘I did anyway.’ Chris shifted in his seat. ‘I know why you’re angry with me, and I’m sorry if I let you down, but it’s not about me, is it? It’s about you and him, and what you’re going to do about it.’

  ‘Everyone must think I’m a total idiot.’ I felt the tears sting the back of my nose. ‘I’ve behaved like a bimbo. No wonder they see me that way.’

  ‘Women like Gary. He knows how to turn on the charm. You wouldn’t be the first and you won’t be the last.’ Chris peered out at a young man walking along on his own, shambling a little. ‘He’s had a few.’

  I didn’t care about a drunk pedestrian; he could look after himself. ‘What do I do now?’

  ‘I can’t tell you. You’ve got to be careful, though. The only way to make this a better story is if you make a fuss. It’ll be gossip for years.’

  ‘I’m not going to let him get away with it.’

  ‘Okay. Up to you.’

  My palms ached. I looked down at my lap to see my hands were fists. I unfolded them, looking at the perfect half-moon shapes my nails had left on each of them. The anger was lodged in my throat, making it hard to swallow or speak. I wanted to scream at Gary. I wanted to show him he’d underestimated me. I wanted to hurt him, to break his confidence and teach him a lesson.

  But I knew that Chris was right. Try any of that and I’d make this into a big deal.

  Lost in my own misery I missed our call sign coming over the radio and Chris picked it up.

  ‘Receiving, over.’

  ‘Lima Delta Nine Five, can I head
you towards 17 Jaipur Avenue? Graded immediate, domestic in progress: female screaming and the line was lost.’

  ‘Received, towards.’

  I put the lights on as Chris turned the car towards Jaipur Avenue. I knew it, in fact; it was a scruffy little street where we’d often gone to execute a warrant or hunt for stolen goods. The houses were ex-authority, sold off during the eighties and now rented back to the council at vast expense by private landlords. They weren’t too fussy about the tenants who lived in the houses, and it showed.

  ‘Anything else we need to know, over?’

  ‘Nine Five, we’re doing checks at the moment.’ That meant the control room staff were looking up the address to see if we had a history of trouble with any of the occupants.

  ‘This’ll take your mind off it, anyway,’ Chris said comfortably.

  ‘I don’t need a violent domestic to make me feel better. Unless it’s between me and Gary. That could do the trick.’

  ‘Just don’t do it on duty,’ Chris said. ‘And don’t get arrested, either.’

  I didn’t respond. I was thinking about a female screaming before her call to the police was cut off. It was, after all, my job.

  * * *

  At first glance, the house in Jaipur Avenue was completely normal. I peered in through the window. Despite the late hour the lights were on. A television took up most of one wall of the small sitting room at the front of the house, and a man sat on the sofa drinking from a can of lager. He glanced up at me and raised the can in a salute I was pretty sure he didn’t mean. The message had come through from the control room when we were a couple of minutes away: they were sending another unit because the occupier, one Sid Hudson, had a record of resisting arrest. There had been a string of similar incidents at the house over the previous few years, but although he’d been arrested he hadn’t been charged. It was the neighbours who usually called us, according to the control room. So whatever had made Sid’s partner call us herself, it had to be bad, I thought.

  Chris had knocked on the door while I was still eyeing Sid. I heard it open and moved to join him. The woman who’d answered the door was maybe thirty, with thin brown hair and worried eyes. She had a red mark on the left side of her throat and her mouth looked swollen. On a night when it was warm enough that I was in shirtsleeves, she was wearing a high-necked long-sleeved top and jeans, so I couldn’t see if she had any other injuries.

  ‘Is everything all right?’ Chris asked. ‘We had a 999 call from this address.’

  ‘My fault. I knocked the phone off the hook and I must’ve leaned on it.’ Her voice was husky and low, a smoker’s voice. Her mouth twisted as she spoke, as if she didn’t want to open it too widely, to hide any damage that was inside or to avoid hurting it. She looked from Chris to me. ‘I just hung up when I realised the call had gone through. I should have said something.’

  ‘What’s your name, love?’ Chris asked.

  ‘Dani Hudson.’ She spelled her first name, carefully, as if it mattered that we knew how to write it down, when neither of us had a notebook out.

  ‘They said you asked for the police and the control room heard screaming before the line dropped.’

  She shook her head. ‘No. Sorry. They must’ve got it wrong.’

  As she said it, she put a hand up to tuck her hair behind her ear. I saw the bruising on her fingers at the same time as I noticed the blood on her ear lobe.

  ‘Can we come in?’ Without waiting for an answer Chris stepped up on to the doormat. I knew he’d seen her injuries too. ‘Thanks, love. I’ll just have a word with your bloke and my colleague here will chat with you in the kitchen. Two sugars if you’re making tea. I could do with a cup.’

  I hoped Chris would be all right on his own with Sid. I knew he wanted me to talk to Dani rather than wasting time minding him, but my skin was prickling with unease as I watched him disappear into the sitting room. I followed Dani down the hall and into a tiny kitchen that was spotless, down to the tea towels hanging in a neat row on the cooker door. It smelt of lemon-scented cleaner and the floor was damp in the corner, as if it had just been mopped.

  ‘Bit late to be doing housework, isn’t it?’

  ‘I stay up late.’ She was gathering mugs from a cupboard, setting them by the kettle. She worked one-handed, her right arm down by her side. I watched her as I wondered about what was under the long-sleeved top. ‘It’s hard to get things done with the kids around.’

  There were no pictures on the fridge and no toys cluttering the kitchen. ‘How many have you got?’

  ‘Two. A boy and a girl. Five and three.’

  ‘That sounds like a handful.’

  ‘They are.’ She forgot herself and smiled at me, then put a hand to her lip with a wince.

  ‘Are you all right, Dani?’

  ‘Fine.’ She said it quite loudly. In the small house, everything we said in the kitchen was probably audible in the living room, especially since Chris had managed to get Sid to turn off the television.

  I leaned over and flicked the switch on the kettle. Thank God for the national obsession with tea: there was always a reason to come and stand in the kitchen, beside a device that emitted highly effective white noise when you used it.

  ‘If you are concerned about your safety we can help you. We can take him away now and you can make preparations to leave. Women’s Aid can provide you with a safe place to go with your children.’

  ‘I don’t need any of that.’

  ‘Dani, you’ve got some nasty injuries and they’re just the ones I can see. What did he do – stamp on your hand? Rip your earring out?’ I leaned over so I could see the uninjured ear, where a gold pyramid swung. ‘Where’s the other one?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Why did he do this to you?’

  She shook her head, her face turned away from me.

  ‘I’ve got a form in the car that I need you to go through with me. If you can tell me that he did any of the things on it, or that you feel afraid for your personal safety, he’s coming with us. Even if you just nod in answer to the questions, that will do. I only need a nod.’

  She sniffed and dabbed at her eyes with the cuff of her top, but otherwise she ignored me. I headed out to the car, taking the opportunity to check on Chris’s safety. Sid Hudson was slumped on the sofa, his arms stretched along the back, looking unthreatening. Sid was older than Dani, and lean. His hair was cut very short but the white skin around the edge of his hairline told me that was a recent image change. No earrings, no rings, no tattoos that I could see. He looked ordinary and not remotely nervous. He certainly wasn’t the one you’d pick out of a line-up if you were asked to find the sadistic wife-beater.

  That was the thing, though. You couldn’t tell from the outside.

  Chris was standing in the middle of the room, massively calm and unflustered by his companion.

  ‘All right?’ I asked.

  ‘Never better.’

  ‘Just going to get some stuff from the car.’ He would know what I meant.

  ‘Take your time.’

  I hurried all the same, not keen on leaving Chris in a stranger’s house with no one to watch his back. As I dug in the boot for the right form, I saw the lights of another patrol car approaching. I stood and waited for it to come up beside me, suppressing a groan when I saw who was inside.

  Gary Lovell and Andy Styles. Of course, it had to be.

  ‘Chris is in there on his own,’ I said shortly, as Gary rolled down the window. ‘I’d better get back.’

  ‘Do you need a hand?’

  ‘You’d better come in. He definitely beat her up but I don’t know if we can get her to give a statement.’

  ‘If anyone can manage it, it’s you.’

  A few hours earlier, that compliment would have had me turning cartwheels. Now, it turned my stomach. ‘I don’t know, Gary. Maybe we should send you to talk to her instead. You’re good at talking women into doing things against their better judgement.’

>   I saw it hit home. He sat back in his seat for a second, then put the window up before driving past me to park. I didn’t wait for them. I went back into the house, my nerves jangling, and walked a little too fast to the kitchen where Dani whirled around, one hand to her throat as I approached.

  ‘I thought you were—’

  She didn’t say it but I knew who she meant. Sid.

  ‘How are you getting on with the tea?’

  ‘I’ve made it.’ She indicated the two mugs on the counter, then leaned back so she could see the front door, where Gary and Andy were coming in. ‘But I should make some more.’

  ‘They don’t need any.’ I took Chris’s and carried it in to the sitting room, ignoring the other two men. Then I closed the kitchen door behind me and laid the form on the kitchen table. ‘We have to go through this form, I’m afraid. Have you seen it before?’

  She nodded. The two of us slid chairs out from under the table and sat down. I went on, my voice low despite the closed door. It was all about making her feel safe – making her feel she could trust me. Sometimes it felt like a confidence trick.

  ‘And you know you don’t have to say the words out loud if you’re too scared to. You can just nod or indicate to me that you agree or disagree with the yes or no answers.’

  A nod.

  I folded the form in front of me and started reading. ‘Has the current incident resulted in injury?’

  She nodded, showing me her neck and her mouth.

  ‘What about your arm?’

  ‘What about it?’

  ‘You’re not using it.’

  ‘That wasn’t tonight. That was earlier in the week.’

  ‘What happened?’

  ‘He twisted it. I’d made a mistake with the laundry – washed some clothes of his that had some stains on them. I didn’t know they were so dirty or I’d have soaked them.’ She looked down at her hands, which were trembling. ‘The doctor said I’d torn the muscles in my shoulder.’

  ‘ He tore the muscles in your shoulder, you mean. Did you tell the doctor how it happened?’

  A quick shake of her head.

  I made a note that it wasn’t the first time she’d been injured by her partner and moved on. The next question was on the form was, ‘Are you very frightened?’

 

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