Then She Was Gone

by Luca Veste

  He waited for an answer, but Rossi had gone quiet. She had withdrawn into herself, as he’d seen her do before.

  ‘What’s the full story here? I need to know.’

  ‘There’s nothing else,’ Rossi said, her voice barely audible over the noise of passing cars. ‘That’s it. He knew them at uni, hasn’t spoke to them in years.’

  ‘I can’t believe you didn’t tell me about this . . .’

  ‘Oh, can we stop with the holier than thou merda. You’ve got a short memory, you have.’

  ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘Have you forgotten what happened last year? With that missing girl? You don’t think that was a conflict of interest?’

  Murphy shook his head, but felt the ground he was on becoming more icy by the second. ‘That’s a totally different–’

  ‘Bullshit,’ Rossi said, banging the steering wheel with one hand as she did so. Murphy wasn’t sure what he was surprised about – the fact she had shouted at him, or that she’d used an English swear word.

  ‘It’s one rule for you, another for the rest. Just like always.’

  ‘That’s not fair,’ Murphy replied, trying to calm down the situation, but probably making it worse, now he thought about it. He was suddenly very aware that they on a motorway travelling at over seventy miles per hour and he wished he’d waited until they had arrived back at the station before discussing this. ‘You understood what was going on back then.’

  ‘Yeah,’ Rossi said through gritted teeth. ‘It was your problem so it obviously meant something completely different. A girl went missing, we were assigned to the case, despite you possibly being her father.’

  ‘It didn’t matter, did it? We were taken off it, once something bigger came along.’

  ‘And if it hadn’t, would you have removed yourself from that case? Would you have told people we were actually looking for someone who you were possibly the father of?’

  Murphy hesitated, knowing the answer but unwilling to give it up that easy.

  ‘Of course you wouldn’t,’ Rossi said, continuing without waiting for an answer. ‘Yes, people associated with our case may have heard of my brother, or even been friendly with him, but it has no bearing on this case. I think you’ve jumped ahead of yourself, thinking that way. It means absolutely nothing. Simple as that.’

  Murphy tried to think of a better comeback line, but had to concede the point. There wasn’t really anything to it, now he thought about it. ‘Are you sure about this? Only, if this becomes a problem further down the line . . .’

  ‘Do you think I’d keep anything quiet now? It’s done. I’ve spoken to him and he says he doesn’t have anything to do with what we’re looking into. Whether or not he did anything back then, who knows? He’s not involved now, though. That much is certain.’

  Murphy scratched at his beard and leaned his head back a little. ‘Right, OK. Well, let’s not make a big deal out of this. Just, let me know if anything else comes up involving one of your brothers. There’s enough of them that something like this was likely to happen at some point, I guess.’

  Rossi didn’t return the smile he gave her as he tried to alleviate the tension which had grown inside the car. It fell from his face as he turned back to the window at his side.

  * * *

  Rossi fixed her gaze straight ahead, the traffic thinning out as they made their way along the motorway. Murphy had stopped talking, which helped a fair amount, but her heartbeat still hadn’t slowed. She was glad of the steering wheel; she was able to hide the shake of her hands by gripping hold of it tight.

  She had lied. There was no getting out of it now. All it would take would be for someone to go over that CCTV footage from near Sam Byrne’s apartment, someone who knew what her brother looked like, and it would be the end.

  There was a moment when she had considered telling Murphy everything. That she had seen her brother in the images, confronted him and known he was lying.

  Instead, she had lied. Simple as that. Played the whole thing down, as if it hadn’t mattered at all. Pretended that the whole thing hadn’t kept her awake the night before.

  She had to keep up that pretence.

  The whole thing was a mess, as Murphy had so delicately put it. There was no way she was going to be removed from this case, though, she thought. She was there until the bitter end. No matter what it meant for her or her family.

  Rossi continued to drive, wondering how and to what extent Vincenzo was involved in the investigation. Nothing about the case seemed like something he would be implicated in. Yet, people kept mentioning his name, he had lied to her when she had met up with him and there was the small matter of him being near a murder victim’s apartment the night he went missing.

  No, he was involved somehow. Being taken off the case would mean she would never find out the truth.

  Would mean not being able to protect him.

  Thirty

  Murphy surveyed the room, now holding many more bodies than the previous few days had, and glanced over at the thin face of DSI Butler. He was in full preening mode. The smell of his expensive aftershave was washing over the room and having an effect on everyone in there. His mere presence meant something to the people in attendance, as if they were being visited by the pope or Kenny Dalglish.

  It shouldn’t have annoyed Murphy, but as was so often the case, it damn well did.

  ‘Right, settle down,’ Murphy said, attempting to remain in charge. ‘You know why we’re all here, so let’s not waste any more time. We now know eight men were part of a club at university and half of them are dead . . .’

  ‘David, if you’ll allow me,’ DSI Butler said, stepping forwards and giving him a look that would curdle milk. ‘We probably shouldn’t get too far ahead of ourselves here.’

  ‘I thought you were going to allow us to make these connections?’

  ‘Of course, that’s your job, David,’ DSI Butler said, giving him a soft smile before turning to the crowded room. ‘I just want to make sure everyone is aware that there are a number of factors in this investigation that we have to consider. Of the four men dead who were a part of this club, two of them committed suicide. Both of those inquests ruled that there was no suspicious events surrounding their deaths . . .’

  ‘Which we’ll obviously be looking into now,’ Murphy said, knowing he was getting a look from DSI Butler as he interrupted him. ‘There are coincidences, then there’s something we can’t ignore.’

  ‘Do we need to have a chat outside?’ DSI Butler said, coming to Murphy’s side and whispering with his back turned to the rest of the room. ‘Only I don’t think this sort of thing should be spoken about in front of everyone here.’

  ‘Give us a minute,’ Murphy said, then made his way to the door, DSI Butler stalking after him as he did so. The officers held their silence until the two senior officers left, voices breaking out as Murphy closed the door behind him.

  ‘I thought we had agreed that we weren’t going to link the two facts just yet?’

  Murphy shook his head slowly, as DSI Butler hissed the question at him. ‘I never agreed to anything.’

  Which was true. He had stood and listened as DSI Butler had urged him to drop the whole boys club angle whilst standing in DCI Stephens’s office ten minutes earlier.

  ‘I thought we had an understanding,’ DSI Butler continued, trying to fix a steely stare on Murphy. The fact he was doing it from six inches lower than him was diminishing the impact somewhat. ‘This is a very delicate situation . . .’

  ‘It’s really not, sir,’ Murphy said, deciding to interrupt his superior for a change. ‘We’re carrying out a murder investigation. During the course of that investigation, we have learned from numerous witnesses that there is some link to a shitty club the victim founded whilst at university. Further, we found out that one of the original eight members is in prison for murder. Then, it turns out, two others have committed suicide. Add that to the fact we now have two bodies currently rottin
g in the local morgue, I make that five out of eight. There’s a note attached to our latest dead body saying “five down”, which makes it sound like there’s another three to go, right? And you think we should just ignore all that?’

  ‘No, I’m not saying that,’ DSI Butler replied, hands on slender hips and almost pouting. Murphy looked down at him with his arms folded, waiting for more bullshit to be forced out. ‘I’m only saying that we should tread carefully. You should tread carefully. There are things going on here that you’re not privy to.’

  Murphy stared down at DSI Butler, breathing heavily through his nose, mouth closed. ‘I don’t even care enough to find out what the word “privy” means,’ he said, his voice barely above a whisper. He didn’t wait for a response, pushing his way back into the meeting room. A few heads turned to see him enter, but most kept their stares to the front. Rossi was sitting motionless in her chair, not looking up at him, whilst DCI Stephens was trying to burn a hole in his head judging by the way she was looking at him.

  ‘Right, let’s start again,’ he said, once he was standing in front of them. He glanced up, seeing DSI Butler standing in the doorway before walking away. He looked back at the sea of faces and tried not to think about what was probably going to happen to him once the meeting had ended.

  ‘Two men found murdered on the streets of our city. Both in horrific circumstances, which have shocked the community – meaning, there’s a bunch of people out there who are looking for any excuse to rip us a new one. So I want your full attention on this and this alone. We find the person who did this now. I want him locked up as soon as possible. Sound good to you?’

  He didn’t wait for an answer. ‘Good. This is what’s happening.’

  Murphy continued to talk, giving out various tasks for the men and women present. The most salient were saved for the DCs in his command, but the uniforms were properly briefed as well. Best to use them for what they were good at; walking around looking important and talking to the locals.

  ‘Anyone who thinks they’ve seen anything, you speak to me first. We’ve got calls coming in, but we know how useful that sort of thing is usually. Doesn’t mean we don’t look at everything though. Find out what you can. Patrols at every scene, et cetera, et cetera. You know the drill. We’ve been here before.’

  Murphy carried on talking, saying the same things he’d been saying year upon year. It wouldn’t matter; he would be saying the same thing to them again soon enough, he thought. Another case, another victim.

  ‘I know it’s getting late, but I want us out there. The media are all over us right now and you know from experience that that never ends well.’

  A few short laughs followed on from that comment. He knew the next one wouldn’t get as many. ‘We need to find the other three men on that list out there and offer them police protection until we’ve got someone for this.’

  Heads turned to look at each other and eyebrows were raised. They had quite plainly heard the conversation he’d had with DSI Butler outside. He was sticking his neck on the line and they knew it.

  ‘It doesn’t matter if they’re connected or not. I just don’t want anyone else turning up dead who doesn’t need to.’

  Murphy continued to talk, bringing those who had questions up to speed patiently. It was another thirty minutes before he was outside in the incident room, surrounded by the DCs he trusted.

  ‘Right, fill me in. What’s been happening while we’ve been gone.’

  ‘Matthew Williams hadn’t even visited Liverpool in the past two years,’ DC Hashem said, her eager face looking up at Murphy. ‘I spoke to his partner, who’s in total shock. She’s absolutely distraught. Doesn’t understand how he’s ended up here.’

  ‘Is she coming down now?’

  ‘Of course,’ DC Hashem said, her voice lifting at the end of the two word sentence. ‘Bit of a trek from Northumberland, but didn’t seem to bother her. She’ll be here around six p.m. depending on traffic.’

  ‘When was the last time she saw him?’

  ‘Day before yesterday. He worked in the city centre in Newcastle, whilst they lived a few miles away. Somewhere called Ashington or something. She said he sent her a text late on Tuesday night, saying he was going to be staying over in the city due to work. Happened before, so she didn’t think too much of it. Obviously, when he wasn’t returning calls yesterday afternoon, she got worried. Reported him missing to local police last night.’

  ‘I’m guessing he didn’t come up in the searches we did,’ Murphy said, hoping there wasn’t an angle here that could be used against them.

  ‘His name is so common, we couldn’t have known.’

  Murphy nodded, but still felt a little worried about the information. ‘It was probably too late by then anyway.’

  The phone rang on his desk, cutting the conversation short as he made his way over to it. He glanced over at DCI Stephens’s office, but the blinds had been drawn since his boss had gone in there. He knew DSI Butler would have been waiting inside for her. He tried to feel guilty, but it wouldn’t come.

  ‘Murphy.’

  ‘Time of death is approximately one to two a.m. earlier today,’ the voice of Dr Houghton said over the phone without pause. ‘Cause is probably something to do with his facial injuries. Blunt force trauma, as they say. Will be another day before I can tell you with what.’

  ‘Hello to you too,’ Murphy said, shaking his head at the pathologist’s general lack of social graces. Strike that, he thought. It was only with him that any manners were absent. ‘Forensics have a large area to look into within the warehouse. Hopefully they’ll find something.’

  ‘I deal with the bodies, David. I’ll leave the rest for you to sort out.’

  The line went dead, Murphy still holding onto the phone. He replaced the receiver and looked around for DC Hashem. He spied her sitting at her desk again, looking a little lost.

  ‘Abs, come over,’ he said to her across the office. She bounded over, exuding more energy than he had felt in a while. ‘This other guy who supposedly committed . . .’

  ‘Paul Wright,’ DC Hashem said, standing over him with her hands behind her back.

  ‘Right, Paul Wright. Where did he die?’

  ‘He went back down south after graduating. Lived in Surrey, in a house owned by his parents. The cleaner found him hanging in the garage.’

  ‘Local uniforms didn’t notice anything suspicious?’

  DC Hashem shook her head. ‘Most open-and-shut suicide ever according to their reports.’

  ‘Note?’

  ‘Yeah, which makes things a bit more interesting.’

  ‘Well, I wouldn’t exactly use that word . . .’

  ‘Oh, you know what I mean,’ DC Hashem said, suddenly serious. ‘I don’t want you thinking I’m thinking that way. I know this is not nice at all.’

  ‘I know, Abs,’ Murphy said, pushing his chair back from his desk and stretching his legs out next to DC Hashem. ‘Any chance of us seeing this note?’

  ‘We’ve asked for the whole file. Hopefully it’ll be over to us by the end of the day.’

  Murphy checked the clock on the wall opposite, realising the end of the day was closer than he’d thought. Not that it mattered – it was likely to be another late one.

  ‘OK, thanks, Abs,’ he said, waiting for her to leave before motioning to DC Kirkham to come over. ‘You found her yet?’

  ‘Possibly,’ DC Kirkham said, standing in the same place DC Hashem had just occupied. ‘University didn’t give us much more than a date of birth and full name. Ran that through the system and got two hits.’

  ‘Same name and birth date?’

  ‘Not exactly an uncommon name, Hazel Jones. Stands to reason that there’d be at least two people born on the same day with the same name. That’s just in Merseyside and Cheshire as well. Before we go any further out.’

  Murphy took the addresses from the outstretched hand of DC Kirkham, glancing down at them.

  ‘It’s this one,
’ he said to DC Kirkham, pointing at the second address on the paper. ‘Laura, we’re going out.’

  DC Kirkham frowned, his brow furrowing as he stepped aside for Murphy to grab his coat from the peg on the wall. ‘You’re sure?’

  ‘Yeah, course I am,’ Murphy said, waiting for Rossi to join him at the door. ‘Before you start wondering if I’m psychic, read the address again, then compare it to Tim Johnson’s one.’

  DC Kirkham shook his head, reading the piece of paper in his hand as if it were about to magically reveal something to him. Murphy followed Rossi out the door, not looking back to see if the young DC had worked things out yet.

  ‘Where are we going?’ Rossi said, skipping a little to keep up with Murphy’s long strides out of the building.

  ‘What do you reckon, think we’ll beat the traffic if we go through the tunnel?’

  ‘You’ve got that look on your face again.’

  ‘What look?’

  ‘That, “I’ve just worked something out and justified my salary for the year” look. Where are we going?’

  ‘Tim Johnson lived on my old estate, over in Moreton. You know, when I lived over the water for that year.’

  ‘Yeah . . .’

  ‘Well, that’s why I recognised the address,’ Murphy said, almost smirking to himself. Sometimes it was nice to have a bit of a Sherlock moment. ‘How much of a coincidence is it for someone with the same name and birth date as a rape victim to live next door to one of the possible rapists?’

  You

  There’s a sense of finality within you. You know things are coming to an end. You can feel the conclusion to everything and you welcome it. It’s almost as if a journey is about to come to a finish. A dark motorway, empty of other cars, small stretches of light apparent on the horizon.

  You want it to stop. You’re tired, the bursts of energy you once had are now few and far between. The look of horror on Matthew Williams’s face as you raised that ball-peen hammer and swung it towards him, now a distant memory. Sam Byrne’s limp and lifeless body a faded image in your consciousness.