by Deborah Lucy
‘So how did you find me?’ he asked. Mendoza was trying to blow the smoke away from the back of the ambulance. Temple had no choice but to sit while the male paramedic saw to the wound at the back of his head. He was being thorough but taking way too long for Temple’s liking.
‘We picked up Sloper, who was walking back to his place alone. When we searched him we found he had your mobile on him, which had blood on it. I figured you wouldn’t have given that up without a fight and that the blood on his hands was yours. He said you both argued and that he’d hit you, and having walked off, he had a touch of the seconds and went back to help you. How true that is I don’t know. But he said when he went back he watched some bloke helping you into a car. When I told him he was lying, he gave me the registration number of the car. We ran it through and it led us here.’
‘Did you find any money on him? He took it out of my coat pockets.’
‘No money, just the phone.’
‘Then he’s dropped the money somewhere. Where’s Sloper now?’ Temple was facing away from Mendoza as the paramedic continued to examine him, lifting his eyelids and shining a light into his eyes.
‘I gave instructions for him to be delivered to the cells, along with all the other people as you blazed through Swindon last night.’
‘Did he ask to make a phone call?’
‘I don’t know. The priority was finding you. I’ll give them a call and find out. As soon as they book Brian Porten into custody, the place will be full, thanks to you. We’ve not found out much about him at the moment. There’s an address that’ll need searching, we’ll take the car away and turn this place over to forensics.’ Mendoza threw his spent cigarette on the floor, crushing it with his foot before calling his phone.
‘Has he said anything?’ Temple asked.
‘No, he confirmed his name and that’s pretty much it. No explanation as to what he was doing bringing you here. As you say, you were probably going to be next to get a bolt in the head and end up on a hook. We’ve got to try and find out who the poor bastard is in the fridge. This is going to excite the top brass when they get in this morning.’
‘They won’t thank me for this lot. All they’ll be thinking is pound signs. The bean counters will be rolling their eyes.’
Mendoza cut short their conversation as his call was answered and he questioned the custody sergeant about Sloper. It was a brief exchange and at the end of it Mendoza bent down to retrieve the cigarette stub, putting it in his pocket.
‘They had to call an ambulance to Sloper as he was complaining of chest pains. He’s in Great Western Hospital. He didn’t ask to call anyone.’
Temple started up. ‘Christ, take me over there. He won’t have had chest pains, that’s his way of getting out of the cells. Have you finished with me yet?’ he asked the paramedic impatiently.
‘You might have to go in,’ he replied. ‘It’s a nasty gash and you’ll have been concussed. It might be a good idea to have an X-ray just as a precaution. You’ve taken a bit of a bashing.’
‘Can you blue light me to the hospital now?’
‘You’re not an emergency.’
‘I have to get over to the hospital. You tell me I should go there so either you take me or I’ll get him to take me. Either way, I need to get there fast.’ Reluctantly the medic agreed to take Temple using his blue lights.
When the ambulance pulled up outside the hospital, Temple made his way to the lifts and the cardio unit. Once there, looking up at a whiteboard, Temple saw Sloper’s name. He was directed to a small room in a corridor and as he approached, Temple saw there was no police presence outside the door. Before he went into the room, he knew. The bed was empty.
Temple looked round and found the men’s toilets. Sloper wasn’t in there. After speaking to a doctor and ensuring that Sloper wasn’t elsewhere, they concluded that he had discharged himself without anyone knowing. He called Mendoza.
‘Sam, he’s not here, he’s gone. Get them looking for him. Who knows how long he’s been gone from here – no one saw him leave. There were no police guarding him. Come and get me out of here.’
Mendoza alerted the control room; it would be an embarrassment if they couldn’t locate Sloper and fast. Temple knew there was enough evidence to convict Sloper but that was largely dependent on Gemma making a statement. Thinking of her, he wondered if Sloper had, after all, called on the services of the one man who had his back. Harker.
* * *
Having retrieved his car with Mendoza’s help, Temple made his way to Wanborough to Clive Harker’s house. It was just before eight and the tree-lined road was quiet. He parked up outside at the bottom of the driveway. Harker’s silver Mercedes C-Class was still on the drive. Temple walked up the incline and knocked on the front door. After a few seconds, it was opened by Clive Harker. Temple could just see that behind him, Harker’s wife Rita was standing in an internal doorway, wondering who was calling at that time of morning. As soon as he saw who was knocking, Harker moved to close the door behind him, barring the sight of Temple from his wife. There was no reason for Temple to be on his doorstep.
He was instantly needled. What’s more, he needed to get into the office; his mobile had been going mad with texts about a murder in an abattoir.
‘What the fuck are you doing here?’ he said in a low drawl, knowing that any higher pitch would have his wife up behind him, opening the door.
‘We have to talk.’
‘I don’t think so. You’re suspended and at a disciplinary hearing on Tuesday. We have nothing to talk about. And you look and smell like shit. Now fuck off.’
Temple expected the abuse so ignored it. ‘Have you seen or heard from Simon Sloper today?’
‘No I haven’t and if I was you I’d get myself off my drive and go back under your stone until Tuesday.’
Again, Temple ignored him. ‘You don’t know, do you?’
‘What are you talking about?’
‘You don’t know about Sloper.’
‘What about Sloper?’ Harker was clearly narked.
‘Sloper’s been arrested. You really don’t know do you?’
Harker looked back at Temple. He didn’t like being doorstepped at the best of times and especially not by Temple. Neither did he like being caught unaware of information about someone he considered to be his friend. Temple continued.
‘He was taken into custody in the early hours and then when he started complaining of chest pains, they took him to hospital where he disappeared. He’s on the run. All the contacts you must have and they haven’t told you. I’m here because we need to discuss what I know about Sloper. The man who you’re relying on in my disciplinary hearing. Only, you might not be so keen to associate yourself with him now.’
‘What are you talking about? What’s he done?’ Harker was interested. His voice had lowered further.
‘I’ll come to that. The last time we spoke, you gave me some career advice. “Get another job,” you said. Well, I’m here to give you some. You and Sloper are tightly aligned and he’s on the run. So he won’t be the star witness you were relying on at the hearing on Tuesday. But more than that, people will be wondering just how much you knew about what he’s been doing. Because there’s another angle to this: Gemma.’
At the mention of her name, Harker almost flinched. The last thing he expected was for Temple to mention Gemma. It was the second time he had caught Harker unawares and Harker didn’t like it. Temple was watching him and, for once, was taking pleasure from Harker’s obvious discomfort.
‘Gemma?’ It was all Harker could say. His thoughts were still trying to work out what on earth this unexpected and unwelcome visit was about. Could it be true that Sloper was on the run? If it was, why hadn’t he been told? What the hell was going on?
‘Yes, Gemma. She came to me for help and made disclosures about Sloper. She told me he’d been running girls in Swindon, taking drugs money from dealers, playing them off against one another. I found the drugs and money a
t his house, and located the girls. So I see it like this: you need to distance yourself from Sloper pretty fast. All the times in the past when he’s relied on your help, this time it’s different. You can’t help him now, and besides which, if you do, not only will you be helping someone who is corrupt, you’ll be going up against your own daughter.’
Harker’s mind was calculating. If what Temple was saying was true, he’d need to do some serious damage limitation. If Temple had his facts right, Sloper, the man he had relied on to look out for Gemma, had let him down. Their friendship was well known and there had always been rumours about Sloper. Yes, Sloper had always had a tendency to bend the rules to breaking point and he did himself no favours, but he’d been a useful person to have in his armoury and he’d always thought that Sloper was sloppy rather than devious. He never had him down as bent. But he didn’t know anything about this. If this was true, this was serious corruption.
Temple was right though. If this was true, he would need to move fast or he’d be tainted by association. Thirty-two years in the force and a reputation second to none for it to come to this. Corrupt by association. He knew how it worked – the canteen gossip, the long looks of mistrust until he’d find himself shut out, with operational meetings taking place discreetly without him because no one would be sure that they could really trust him. Sloper would taint him. But why did it have to be Temple telling him this? Why was he the messenger?
‘Why are you of all people here? Why would you want to help me?’ asked Harker slowly.
‘Because you can help me. You’re going to go and see Buller this morning; you’re going to tell him that we were working together unofficially, trying to get to the bottom of Sloper’s corrupt behaviour. You’re going to get the charges against me dropped and I’m going to be reinstated. And you’re going to undo your lie and give me the credit I’m due for the Ashton-Jones murder.’
‘How the hell do you expect him to believe that?’ Harker balked at the idea.
‘I’ve already paved the way with Sloper. When he pops up he’s already primed. Gemma came to me when she got caught in the crossfire of Sloper’s actions against Eastern European dealers, and she told me he was up to his neck in it. I told him he was under surveillance, that I’d been watching him during the Ashton-Jones murder. I told him I was working for Buller.
‘Not true of course, just me hoping that he’d believe it and tell me what I wanted to know. He knew I found drugs and money at his house and he believed me when I said I was part of the surveillance operation looking at him. Although I told him I was working under Buller, I could tell Buller that I was doing this under your instruction. As I see it, you’ve got only marginally less trouble than I have, and I’m offering you a way out.’
‘Why? Why would you do that?’
‘Because I’m in the shit. You and Sloper put me there and only you can get me out. Because you were taken in by Sloper. You turned a blind eye and if you hadn’t, you would have found out that, far from looking out for Gemma, Sloper was abusing her himself. And because I want this, this feud, this vendetta that exists for you against me to stop. Because you’re in a position to keep making things difficult for me. And I don’t deserve to lose my job over a lie, which, as you pointed out, was exactly what was going to happen on Tuesday. It was going to be a sham, a kangaroo court for what was already a foregone conclusion.’
Harker had to concede the truth in all he said. And what was it Temple had said about Gemma, that Sloper had been abusing her? He’d trusted Sloper to look out for her, to let him know where she was, how she was. If he saw him again, Harker knew he’d kill him. And after everything that had happened, Gemma had turned to Temple and he’d helped her. Harker was grateful to him for that. Many would have turned their back on her, saying she deserved all she had coming to her. Despite everything, despite all the hurt she’d caused him, Gemma was still his daughter and Harker still remembered their better times.
Temple resisted the urge to tell him about Prayer; he felt he had to heed Gemma’s request not to tell him. Harker would find out about the drug trafficking as the cells were full of traffickers; he’d see Gemma’s involvement for himself but there was nothing to connect Gemma to Prayer, even with them both as witnesses. It would be her decision as to when and if she informed Harker that Prayer was his granddaughter. He hoped in time Gemma would make contact with her parents again.
Temple turned to go, but Harker had one last question. ‘How is Gemma?’
‘She wants to turn her life around. She’s got a purpose.’
Chapter 50
Temple arrived home to find the cottage in silence. There was no one at home. A quick text to Ana located them all out having a walk around the stone circle and then the gardens of Avebury Manor. He told her to enjoy it and not hurry back. He could imagine that Gemma and Prayer had a lot of talking to do and the gardens might be the perfect place to do that.
He had a quick shower, put some logs in the grate and lit a fire. He settled down to outline a statement for Gemma for when she returned. He knew he would have to sit down with Prayer and do the same. He would then have to talk to Gemma about getting Prayer back home and what they would tell her parents about what had happened to her. After he’d written a couple of pages, tiredness got the better of him and he fell asleep in a chair by the fire, his laptop by the side of him.
He woke to the muffled sound of voices coming from the kitchen. They’d come back and found him sleeping so went into the kitchen and closed the door. He found them sitting round the small pine table, hot drinks in hand, with Ben driving his favourite tractor on the tiled floor. It was a strange picture, with Gemma sitting there next to Prayer. She looked up at him as he came in and he could see the gratitude in her eyes. She was a different Gemma to the one who’d turned up a few nights ago.
He showed her the statement, asked her to go through it and add any more information she could think of. While Gemma scrolled through and read the document, Temple asked to see Prayer in the other room. She went with him; they closed the door on the kitchen and sat near the fire in the hearth.
It was surreal having her sitting there. He wondered if Gemma had told her of him. She was wearing the same jeans and jumper that he’d found her in, but she looked somehow fresh. Perhaps that was the power of designer clothes, he wondered, and remembered rifling through her case. Like many teenage girls, she seemed older than her sixteen years. He stoked the fire as he spoke.
‘Have you been in touch with your parents yet?’ he asked her gently. ‘Are they going to come and get you?’
‘I’ve called them. I’ve told them that I’ll be catching the five o’clock train this afternoon; Gemma’s going to drop me off. They’ll meet me at the other end. I want them to stay there, I don’t want them coming here.’ She was looking into the fire as she spoke.
‘What will you tell them?’
‘I’ve decided not to tell them about what happened. If it goes to court, I’ll deal with it then.’
‘If I’ve anything to do with it, Prayer, it will go to court. It might be best to tell them now.’ He couldn’t see how she could keep this from them; she would need support at court and there was always a chance that the press would pick it up and report it out of the area. She looked at him.
‘If I tell them what happened, they’ll never let me out of their sight again. Besides, no harm came to me.’
‘It could have been very different. But for your presence of mind, it could have been so much worse.’
‘And you getting me out,’ she said slowly, looking at him.
‘Just doing what they pay me for,’ he replied.
‘No, if I tell them, they certainly won’t let me see Gemma again. And it wasn’t her fault.’
‘You want to see Gemma again?’ He was surprised.
Prayer met his gaze. ‘We’re going to stay in touch. We’re linked to each other after all. She’s told me about herself. She’s not lied to me. She came from a good home lik
e I do. She’s done bad things and she’s made mistakes. I understand why she did the things she did. I understand why she gave me up. She says that, now I’m in her life, she wants to make me proud of her. It’s given her the reason she needed. I’m not going to turn my back on her, not now.’
‘I’m sure she will.’ He was concerned for Prayer. He didn’t know what Gemma had told her but he wanted her life to stay on its original track, before she knew Gemma. He didn’t want it skewed by association with Gemma in any way. They’d got away with it this time – but only just.
‘So, what are your plans? Next week, next month, next year?’ He tried to lighten the mood.
‘Well, I’ll be going to college for my A-levels, of course, and then I’m going to university to study law. I’m just trying to decide which one to go to. My parents have said they’ll fund me. They’ve set money aside in a trust. I want to be a lawyer.’
‘That’s very good of them. Why law?’ He felt so grateful to the people who’d looked after her all these years and who would continue to. He suddenly thought of Gemma when he’d first met her. She had only been a few years older than Prayer was now. He suddenly understood Harker’s rage at him that night so long ago. If only they’d never met, Gemma would have had such a different life, such a good life. But then he wouldn’t be sitting there looking at Prayer. At least something good had come of it all.
As he looked at her, he could never imagine the bright, confident girl sitting before him taking her life off a cliff as Gemma had done. But as he knew, it could easily happen if she just met the wrong boy. ‘I like law because it’s complicated. I like unravelling things.’
‘Let me give you some advice, Prayer. Don’t deviate from your plan and never let a boy or man get in the way and throw you off course. It’s a fantastic plan. You’ll make everyone really proud of you. Gemma was at university, did you know that?’
‘I know, she told me.’ She looked back at him. After letting silence settle between them, she spoke. ‘I’ve worked it out, you know. She hasn’t told me, but I’m right, I know I am. I know who you are.’