The Lies They Told

by Jay Nadal

  She looked around her office and wondered what life was all about. She had a younger sister who had never experienced life, and come to think of it, neither had she. She was married to the job, and if she was honest with herself, used it as a distraction. She would much rather be buried under piles of paperwork, and witness the worst that society could offer, than sit at home and process her thoughts, emotions and her vulnerability. If she took a moment to do that, she was scared of what she might find, and whether she could handle it.

  After the events eight months ago, she had been advised to seek help rather than bottle up her emotions and avoid processing them. But she’d never plucked up the courage to follow it through, despite agreeing to it. It was the thought of sitting there with a stranger that frightened her. She’d shuddered at the thought of exposing her darkest thoughts and releasing feelings and emotions that she’d entombed in a concrete box inside her mind. What if she freaked out, broke down, or sobbed uncontrollably whilst working her way through a box of tissues? Would she be any better? Or would they say she was so broken? That she wasn’t fit for purpose any more and would have to resign?

  Each outcome terrified her. What would her colleagues say? Would they think that she had lost the plot and was a liability? What would happen if she was on the edge of the precipice, staring into the darkness and no one could catch her as she fell?

  Karen felt the panic begin like a cluster of spark plugs in her abdomen. Tension grew in her face and limbs as her mind replayed the ambush. Her breathing became rapid, and shallower. Her pupils stayed fixed wide with fear as she glanced around the room, whilst clutching the edge of the desk. The thoughts galloped inside her head. She wanted them to slow so she could breathe but they wouldn’t. Her breaths came in gasps and she felt like blacking out. Her heart hammered inside her chest like it belonged to a rabbit running for its life. The room spun, spun completely out of control.

  “Shit.”

  She dropped her head on the desk, trying to make everything slow to something her brain and body could cope with. Nausea rolled over her in waves.

  “Breathe… breathe… breathe…” She begged herself.

  A cold shiver ran through her as she pulled herself back into the room.

  “Jesus, not again…”

  30

  Karen kept her head down as she darted towards the ladies’ toilets. The last thing she wanted was to be caught looking like a devil woman. She pushed through the door with such force it slammed against the wall behind, the noise startling her. She glanced at the long line of cubicles. They were empty, thank God. She half bent over a sink and turned on the cold tap. Forming a makeshift cup with her hands, Karen allowed them to fill with water before splashing the water across her face. The cold chill met with her burning hot cheeks, turning the water lukewarm. She splashed more water, doing it repeatedly, hoping it would calm her. It felt soothing, relaxing, so much so that she wanted to fill the sink and dive head first into it.

  She laid her hands on the edge of the sink and looked up to see her damp face in the mirror. The edges of her hair stuck together in wet clumps. God, I look like shit. “Pull yourself together, stay calm, and lots of deep breaths. It will be okay. It will be okay. It will… be… okay.”

  She pulled in a large lungful of air whilst gripping the side of the bowl, her fingernails turning white as they pressed into the enamel. Karen cleared her throat before stepping away and grabbing a handful of paper towels to wipe her face and dry her hair. She smoothed down her hair and smartened her appearance to resemble something close to looking professional rather than a down and out junkie going through cold turkey.

  “You can do this,” she assured herself before she turned and left.

  Karen made her way along the corridor and slipped back into her office without anyone noticing. A sigh of relief escaped her lips as she dropped into her chair and glanced through the glass walls of her office to see if anyone was watching her. Convinced that she’d got away with it, she did her best to put it to one side as her shaky hand grabbed the mouse and opened the video files again.

  Her mind was a melting pot of confusion and thoughts. Karen tried her hardest to push them to one side as she flicked through the video footage. The images she saw could have come from any council estate the length and breadth of the country. Elderly people shuffled in and out of the apartment blocks. A parent pushed their small child in a swing, and the unemployed youths played pranks on each other and intimidated the residents. But she cast them from her mind without a second thought, because Darren Finch’s visage consumed her focus. She checked the timestamp. It was a little after eleven thirty in the morning, and she doubted if Finch would be awake. She put the tape on fast forward. Karen studied the images looking for anything connected to her case.

  Karen’s eyes grew heavier from the intense concentration. This really has to be one of the most mind-numbing chores that any officer can go through.

  On the verge of nodding off at her desk, she spotted something which had her reaching for the mouse and clicking pause. She took the tape back a few seconds, and pressed play again at normal speed as she watched a group of seven youths appear from behind one of the apartment blocks on the estate. Their menacing presence stood out to Karen. The group was dressed head to foot in black and were spread out. Often gangs would bunch up close together, believing there was safety in numbers, but this gang had a different feel. It was as if each individual member was confident about handling themselves. They strutted and bowled as they made their way towards the centre square. Each one wore a black hoodie or jacket with its hood raised in order to obscure much of their face. A token black scarf shielded the lower half, just leaving them with menacing stares.

  Karen sat up and studied the images. None of them appeared to be Finch. She thought they looked in their late teens and early twenties. Her suspicions were confirmed when another figure appeared a few yards behind. This one didn’t try to hide his face. Got you, Finch. Despite the early summer weather, he wore jeans and a padded jacket. He walked just as slow, his swagger suggesting ownership of his patch. He joined the others by some railings that skirted the playground. Karen watched as a mother stared across at the men before pulling her child from the swing and hurriedly making her way out of the playground, glancing over her shoulder a few times before she made it back to the safety of her apartment block.

  She watched for the next few minutes as the men slouched against the railings, smoking and staring around the estate. She was just about to speed through the tape when she noticed a change in their behaviour. There were sharp and jagged movements as they glanced around in all directions and exchanged words. The brashness and confidence they had displayed just a few minutes earlier faded as they huddled together looking in one direction.

  Something from just off camera had alarmed them. Karen gritted her teeth as her interest grew. It took a few moments before three men appeared. They had the same swagger and confidence, except these men were older, considerably older, and leading the trio was Jack Taylor. Karen assumed that the two men behind him, who had spread out into an arc, were his backup.

  The group of youths backed away, leaving Finch isolated. Karen watched as Taylor strode towards Finch, leaving the two heavies a few yards behind. Finch and Taylor stood nose to nose with Taylor jabbing his finger into Finch’s chest. Remarkably, Finch held his ground as Taylor appeared to unleash a volley of words. The youths loitered in the background, remaining still. Even though they outnumbered the men, Karen knew they would be no match for the walking muscleheads with Taylor.

  The unknown altercation soon turned to violence as Taylor launched a missile of a punch which sent Finch tumbling to the ground. Before Finch could gather himself, Taylor jumped him, unleashing a flurry of punches. Having battered Finch, Taylor stood and dusted off his hands before turning and calmly walking away. Once Taylor disappeared from the image, Karen watched as the youths edged their way back towards Finch, crowding around him.
<
br />   Karen stared at the footage as a new suspect in Taylor’s murder emerged right before her eyes.

  31

  Witnessing the nasty fight fuelled Karen’s curiosity further. She had paused the tape and gone to the kitchen to make herself a strong cup of coffee. Since she had hours of video footage to trawl through, being stuck in a hot, stuffy, pokey room made her feel sleepy.

  Karen made her way back to the video room and settled in her seat again. She blew out her cheeks as she clicked the mouse and set the tape in fast forward again. Cars came and went. The occasional delivery van crawled around the different apartment blocks looking for the right address. Even delivery drivers questioned their safety, or more precisely, the safety of their load. She watched each driver race around to the back of their van, retrieve the package that needed to be delivered, and race off to the address, before returning just a minute later.

  Boring, boring, dull.

  She stared at the screen, her mind drifting to thoughts of going home this evening and curling up on the sofa with Manky and a large glass of white wine. Due to her erratic hours, she often recorded episodes of her favourite TV series. Any crime drama or psychological thriller interested her, but she binge-watched Ozark, Luther, and Sons of Anarchy. If she wanted to switch off and just have a laugh, she would revert to old episodes of Only Fools and Horses, The Vicar of Dibley and The Office.

  Karen spent the next few hours scouring through the tapes, searching for anything connected to her case. At times, the footage looked like a comedy film as people scurried around whilst she had it in fast-forward review. There were moments where the estate appeared empty with no movement at all. She took a few more breaks to rest her eyes, asking Jade to step in and continue to monitor the tapes as she popped out to get some fresh air.

  June was always a good time of year. Recently, May and June had offered more of what she would consider summer weather with brilliant sunshine and warm days. They contrasted with July and August, often far more temperamental and unseasonal months. Her mind drifted back to her childhood, and how she would spend every single day of her summer holidays playing with friends at the local park. “Safety first” never even entered their minds back in the day as they slid down long metal slides picking up skin burns on the searing hot metal, swinging from tyre swings, and spinning around on merry-go-rounds until they fell off dusty and dizzy. They would pop into the local sweet shop on the way home to buy sweets like blackjacks, spangles, and flying saucers.

  She would barely have time for breakfast before her friends would turn up begging her to come out to play. Her mother would battle to get her to come in for lunch, and Karen would opt for a simple jam sandwich and glass of milk, something easy that would allow for a quick escape in a matter of minutes to enjoy her freedom. She noticed that kids were different now. Boys spent more time gaming online, and girls spent hours chatting to their friends on social media apps like Snapchat. The art of being a kid was fast disappearing in her opinion.

  Karen felt a sense of frustration. The streets were busy with shopworkers and office staff, the roads were packed with black cabs, red buses, couriers on motorcycles, and delivery vans that clogged up and slowed down the traffic. The sounds of London life echoed around her, and the air smelt of pollution and grime. On a bright, sunny day like this she wished she was in Frinton with its wide, sandy beach, and small scattering of shops and cafés. Frinton-on-Sea represented her childhood, and she had spent many a weekend with her aunts and uncles. She’d rarely been there with her mum and dad. Sadly, they were too busy looking after her sister Jane, but not wanting her to miss out, her parents had made sure that she enjoyed some downtime away from their hectic and challenging home life.

  A buzz from her phone jolted Karen from her reverie as a text from Jade revealed she’d found something interesting.

  “What have you got, Jade?” Karen asked as she stepped back into the stuffy and hot room. She pulled up a chair alongside Jade.

  “Well, I’ve carried on looking through the tape, and there was nothing that caught my attention.”

  Karen’s heart sank on hearing those words. Everything had to be a royal pain in her arse when it came to this case.

  “But when I got to two thirty a.m. I noticed something of interest.”

  They both stared at a frozen image of the estate, now shrouded in darkness, the only illumination from a handful of street lights that surrounded the playground and the illuminated walkways in each block.

  Jade hit play, and the tape continued rolling at normal speed. They watched as one by one a group of figures appeared between two blocks of apartments. At first they couldn’t make out their gender, but as they gathered closer to the playground, the street lights illuminated the shadows. There were five figures, all male, and from what Karen could see, dressed in similar clothes to what she had seen earlier. Jade zoomed in, and Karen noticed a white emblem on the back of one of the youths’ jacket. It looked like the outline of a fist, the same image from the earlier footage.

  Karen pointed out that at least two of the youths appeared to be carrying long objects which from a distance were hard to identify. They could have been small scaffold poles, or lumps of wood, or even crowbars. Regardless, they were carrying offensive weapons. She saw no signs of a firearm, but that didn’t mean that one of them hadn’t concealed a gun.

  They both watched as the group jostled with each other in a display of mock aggression. From the edge of the footage, another figure appeared and joined them. They gathered together in a small circle as if discussing something. Whatever they were talking about only lasted a few minutes before they moved off as a group and disappeared out of shot. Jade zoomed in again as the group left, and Karen saw the distinctive outline of Finch. He was taller and broader than the rest.

  “Anything else?”

  Jade nodded as she pressed the fast forward. “I continued rolling the tape until six a.m., and the same group came back at five forty-three a.m.”

  Karen watched as Jade replayed that section of tape. This time the group’s movements were quicker. They congregated close to the playground, talking in a huddled circle before splitting up and heading in different directions. She noticed Finch glancing around before he jogged back to one of the apartment blocks. Karen focused on his left hand that appeared to be pressed against the left side of his jacket.

  Does he have a gun concealed? And has it been used?

  32

  Karen caught Skelton coming out of a senior management meeting. He looked bored, dishevelled and grisly, but he looked like that most of the time. His hair was ruffled, his tie hung loosely, and the top button of his shirt was undone.

  “Sir, have you got a moment?”

  He drew his lips into a thin line, staring at her for a few moments.

  Karen felt her skin crawl as his eyes burrowed into hers. He was the only man who made her feel that way. He was lecherous, conniving, arrogant and rude. Skelton was the epitome of everything she strived not to be. He flicked his head towards an empty office, and Karen followed him.

  After closing the door behind them, Skelton dropped his notebook on the table, and crossed his arms waiting for Karen to speak first.

  Karen filled him in on the information she’d discovered from the footage of the estate, and the need to bring Finch in for questioning.

  “Just because Taylor gave him a kicking it doesn’t mean he went seeking revenge.”

  “I get that, sir, but it offers a plausible reason? Revenge? And we know that Finch and his gang have used firearms in the past.”

  Skelton paced around the room before stopping by the window as he considered her reasons for a while.

  “So you want to go in there, kicking down doors and stirring up more anti-police feelings?”

  “I don’t see it that way. Finch and his associates make lives miserable on that estate. We’d be doing the residents a favour. We can go in softly.”

  “Not if firearms are involved! If you’re goi
ng in there, you go in with armed backup.”

  “Understood. So do I have your consent?”

  Skelton grimaced. “Go for it. Clearing out some shit scum like that won’t be a bad thing. Get a warrant and firearms sorted, and then go in. And Karen, get it right. The safety of our officers comes first. Make sure you do a thorough risk assessment.”

  With those clipped words, Skelton left, seemingly in a rush to get on. Karen sighed. She should have been excited, but Skelton had a knack of knocking the wind out of her with a few chosen words.

  Karen made her way back and pushed through the double doors. “Okay, team. Gather around as we’ve got a potential lead to follow up.”

  The team surfaced from their workstations and perched on the desks surrounding the incident board. Karen stood to one side and looked at the various images pinned to it. The faces of Taylor, Macholl, Diane Murphy and her son Ben stared back at the team. Karen had drawn red lines with arrows going back and forth between them to mark their connections. Photographs from both crime scenes had been added along with close-ups of both bullets retrieved from the victims. Karen waited for the remaining support staff and other detectives to join them from the back of the room. She now had the full attention of over twenty officers. She cleared her throat to quiet the myriad of hushed conversations that rippled through the crowd.