by Menon, David
‘There doesn’t seem like much to go on, ma’am,’ said Adrian.
‘You’re right, DS Bradshaw, there isn’t but something is going to lead us to finding out who would have the motive to kill a seemingly harmless woman in her mid-sixties living out her ordinary life in the suburbs.’
‘Ordinary except for the fact that she may have been having some kind of an affair, ma’am,’ said Adrian.
‘Oh so do you think that women stop having urges when they get to a certain age, DS Bradshaw?’
Adrian blushed crimson. ‘ I didn’t mean that, ma’am,’ he said, ‘I suppose I’m thinking of my own mother who’s the same age as Rita Makin.’
‘I know,’ said Sara. ‘And I do know what you’re saying. But I don’t want her judged as being too old to have some fun. She was a widow and therefore a free agent after all.’
‘So is my mother,’ said Adrian.
‘The man she was entertaining may not have been a free agent,’ said Joe Alexander who knew all about affairs given his situation with Carol.
‘That’s the most likely scenario from what we know, I think,’ said John Hargreaves, another with the knowledge of how to play effectively away from home, although his most recent affair with WPC Sharon Howells hadn’t shown much in the way of expertise. Sharon hadn’t taken it well when he ended the affair and she sent every present he’d bought her to his wife along with a detailed summary of every time they’d met and where. It had been an act of pure spite that had caused him a lot of problems at home for a while but Mrs. Hargreaves was used to her husband’s indiscretions and after a while things had settled down again.
‘But look, let’s not get carried away,’ said Sara, a real note of caution in her voice. ‘Rita Makin was murdered in a very brutal but very precise manner and whoever did it clearly believed they had a motive. Now she might not have been having an affair as such. She might’ve been having a relationship with, say, a widower of the same age.’
‘Well if that was the case, ma’am,’ said Adrian, ‘then why hasn’t he come forward so that we could at least eliminate him from our enquiries?’
*
Sara once had a boss who liked to set people up for failure. She’d give them a task that she knew they wouldn’t be able to complete because of a lack of knowledge, time, or experience and then make a big show of riding in and rescuing the situation from the ‘incompetent.’ Then she’d use the example to belittle the person and make them feel useless. Sara had been the only one to stand up to her and as a consequence Sara had been moved out of the offending inspector’s squad. The last she’d heard of the infamous bully was that she’d had to retire early after suffering a severe nervous breakdown. The general consensus was that it couldn’t have happened to a nicer person. It appeared too that she’d fallen foul of the demon drink. Well, Sara had vowed to herself, nobody was ever going to be able to accuse her of taking her insecurities out on the people who worked for her.
Last year one of her detective sergeants, Steve Osborne, had gone out on a limb and got himself killed for it. Sara had taken it harder than she’d ever admitted to anyone. Although everybody had said that it wasn’t her fault and that she couldn’t possibly blame herself for what had happened, she still couldn’t help but do just that. Deep down in a corner of her soul the death of Steve Osborne would weigh heavily for a very long time.
But what could she do? She couldn’t keep an eye on everyone twenty-four/seven and neither could she micro manage their every move. She had to trust them to get on with whatever they were assigned. Steve’s place in the squad had been taken by Adrian Bradshaw, who Sara had taken to be a bright, capable officer, happily married with the kind of rugby player looks and build that make some girls go weak at the knees and wet in the fanny. The general consensus amongst all the girls at the station was that Mrs. Bradshaw was a very lucky girl and Sara hadn’t dissented from that view. But she still hadn’t spent enough time with him and she was determined not to let Adrian Bradshaw pretend to be close when he was far enough away to risk his life like Steve Osborne had done.
‘My parents used to live round here’ said Adrian as he drove his boss through Prestwich, one of the leafier suburbs of North Manchester, on the way to Radcliffe, a suburb of Bury where he and Sara would interview Michelle and Warren Clarke, Rita Makin’s daughter and son-in-law.
‘Used to?’ asked Sara.
‘Well Dad died a few years ago and Mum lives a couple of miles away from us now. I’m the only one in the family with kids and she likes to be near.’
‘Convenient baby sitter for you and… is it Penny?’
‘That’s it,’ said Adrian. ‘ Mum loves to come and look after the kids so yes is the answer to your question.’
‘And would you find it hard for her to be with someone else? I mean, that’s what you intimated earlier in the squad room.’
‘No,’ said Adrian, ‘and I’m sorry if I gave that impression. If she was to meet a good bloke who made her happy then none of us in the family would stand in her way.’
‘Well you wouldn’t actually have any right to stand in her way,’ said Sara who hated that way it is in some families where someone is given ‘permission’ to live their life by the rest. The thought of losing either of her parents absolutely terrified her but if the one that was left met someone else and could be happy again then she’d be delighted for them. She wouldn’t want to see them lonely if they didn’t have to be.
‘How long have you and Penny been together, Adrian?’
‘Getting on for about fifteen or so years now,’ said Adrian.
‘And how did you meet?’
‘In a restaurant in Didsbury, Sara,’ said Adrian who was still getting used to calling his boss by her first name when it was just the two of them. But that’s how she wanted it so he complied. ‘She was there with two couples and I was there with a couple of mates. I said that she must be feeling like the odd one out and would she like to join us for a drink.’
‘How gallant.’
‘I don’t know about that,’ said Adrian, ‘lust was my main motivator.’
Sara laughed. ‘Then how gallant and how honest. Go on.’
‘Well I walked her home, we arranged to meet the next day, and that was it. Fifteen years and three kids later we’re still going strong and I can’t see past her.’
‘You’re lucky.’
‘I think so, Sara,’ said Adrian who wondered what his boss would say if she knew about his little demon. ‘Believe me, I think so.’
‘So you’d say she was your best friend and all that?’
‘Oh yeah.’ said Adrian. ‘We compliment each other, you know? We each bring something different to the party. We’ve got some things in common of course but we’re opposites too. Take our respective tastes in music for instance. Or rather I should say that I’ve got some taste in music but Penny hasn’t.’
Sara laughed again. ‘That is such a bloke thing to say. What’s wrong with what Penny taste in music?’
‘She’s into anything that for me is totally bland and meaningless.’ said Adrian. ‘Like Celine bloody Dion.’
‘Well I’m on your side there,’ laughed Sara, ‘I can’t stand Celine Dion or any of those other so-called singers whose stock-in trade seems to be bloody power ballads.’
‘Sounds like you’ve got more of a masculine taste in music, Sara’
‘Oh I have,’ said Sara who then decided to have a bit of fun with him. ‘And I’m like it in bed too. I always prefer to be on top.’
Adrian blushed and coughed. ‘Well I’ll have to take your word for that, Sara.’
‘Yes you will because I never play with married men even if they ask me very nicely and are as good looking as you.’
‘Are you always this disarming, Sara?’
‘Oh didn’t you know? All the girls at the station think you’re a bit of alright.’
Adrian blushed again and smiled. ‘Is that right? Then I’m flattered but tell them they’re all
about fifteen years too late I’m afraid.’
‘Oh I can hear the sound of breaking hearts from here to police college!’
Adrian laughed. ‘You like to have your fun, don’t you, Sara?’
‘Well the job is serious enough! But don’t mistake me for someone who doesn’t care. I want the job done to the very best of everyone’s abilities.’
When they got to Michelle and Warren Clarke’s house it was in the middle of a long tree-lined avenue of semi-detached houses that were all painted in white on the outside. There wasn’t a car in any drive that was less than three or four years old. It was quiet. Most people were out at work at this time on a Thursday morning.
‘Warren Clarke is a butcher,’ said Sara. ‘There must be a lot of money in meat if they can afford to live in a place like this.’
‘Might be worth checking out his finances,’ said Adrian.
‘Good idea’ said Sara. ‘Money being one of the two biggest motives for murder.’
‘And the other?’
‘Well sex of course’ said Sara. ‘Lust, betrayal, adultery, crimes of passion. I know you’re married, Adrian, but surely you remember all the emotions released by doing what comes naturally?’
Adrian smiled. ‘Oh you don’t need to worry about me, Sara. I get my fair share.’
‘Well Mrs. Bradshaw would be mad if you didn’t.’
They were led into the house by Warren Clarke who wasn’t saying much. They sat down in the front lounge. Sara and Adrian were on the sofa whilst Michelle and Warren sat in separate armchairs at opposite ends of the room. Sara thought that strange. In most situations of this kind couples tended to sit closely together and hold hands. These two could barely look at each other.
‘I’d first like to say how sorry we are for your loss,’ said Sara.
‘Thank you’ said Michelle Clarke, with a smile that came and went almost like an afterthought. She tucked her hair behind her ears with her fingers and played with a paper tissue in her hand. It was clear she’d been crying but that was no surprise.
‘We’ll be doing everything we can to find whoever did this, Mrs. Clarke,’ said Sara.
‘I’m sure you will’ said Michelle. ‘It’s just that I don’t have much faith in anything at the moment.’
‘Well that’s understandable,’ said Sara. ‘Mrs. Clarke, where were you the night your mother died?’
‘I was here at home,’ Michelle replied, ‘on my own. We have a busy family life, inspector, with three boys to take care of. I preferred to have some time to myself.’
You’re a liar, thought Sara who out of the corner of her eye could see Michelle’s husband Warren slowly smouldering like a fire that could burst into flames at any moment. She was wondering what was taking him so long. What were these two hiding and, more importantly, why?
‘Is that so?’
‘Yes, inspector, it is.’
‘Mrs. Clarke, can you think of anyone who might’ve had the motive to do something so despicable to your mother?’
Michelle closed her eyes as the tears began to fall again. She turned her head away from everyone and raised her hand to her mouth. ‘My mother and I had not been getting on lately.’
‘Oh? Why was that?’
‘Oh you know how it is in families sometimes,’ said Michelle, still tearful. ‘But now she’s gone and in such an evil way… well I wish we’d made up, you know?’
‘I understand’ said Sara.
‘Why? Has your mother been murdered too?’
‘Michelle, for God’s sake!’ said Warren Clarke. ‘These officers need answers.’
‘Well why don’t you give them some then?’ snarled Michelle. She was looking daggers at her husband. ‘Why are you still here anyway? ‘
‘I’m staying with my children,’ Warren insisted, through a voice of restrained emotion.
‘Not if I say you can’t!’ Michelle roared.
‘Hey, now, calm down, both of you,’ said Adrian who’d never seen such an appalling display from relatives after the death of a supposed loved one. ‘I’m sure this isn’t getting anybody anywhere.’
‘Just mind your own fucking business!’ Michelle ordered in a voice raised as far as her emotions would take it.
‘Alright, that’s enough!’ said Sara. ‘Whatever the situation, Mrs. Clarke, I don’t allow my officers to be spoken to like that. Now I know that grief hits people in different ways but there’s clearly something else going on here.’
‘Well if there is I repeat it is none of your business.’
Warren stood up and marched out of the room. ‘I’ve had enough of this shit.’
‘That’s it! Walk away! You’ve never been any good to me.’
*
Tim Norris followed Sara into her office the moment she got back from interviewing Michelle and Warren Clarke.
‘How did it go?’
‘There’s definitely something for us to find out there,’ said Sara.
‘Oh?’
‘The elephant in the room was so big we almost couldn’t move because of it,’ she added as she sat down at her desk. ‘Adrian is going to see Warren Clarke at his work tomorrow to see if he can get anything out of him when he’s on his own.’
‘Adrian seems to be settling in well,’ said Tim.
‘He is.’ Sara agreed. ‘Now Tim, I have to say that I don’t think the superintendent was impressed with your absence at the briefing.’
‘I’m sorry if it put you in an awkward position.’
‘Well it didn’t do that but I can’t cover for you unless I know what’s going on?’
‘I did say I needed to talk to you.’
‘I know’ said Sara. ‘So what’s up?’
‘I need some time off, Sara.’
‘Time off? Your timing isn’t brilliant’
‘I know,’ said Tim who was feeling guilty. ‘But when is it ever in a squad like this?’
‘Okay’ said Sara. ‘So what’s the reason?’
‘Helen and I are adopting a baby and I’m entitled to paternity leave.’
The news hit Sara like a block of concrete being thrown at her chest. It brought back all too sharply the memory of the baby son she’d given up for adoption five years ago. The baby son that his father, Tim Norris, hadn’t know about until she’d joined the squad last year.
‘Sorry,’ she said.
‘No, I’m sorry, Sara,’ said Tim. ‘I didn’t mean to upset you and clearly I have.’
‘It’s just all a bit sudden.’
‘Well we’ve been planning it for a while obviously,’ he added, ‘ever since we found out that Helen couldn’t conceive. But you know that, Sara.’
Sara couldn’t deny that. ‘What are you having? A little boy or a little girl?’
‘A little girl’ said Tim ‘She’s called Jessica and she’s six months old. We couldn’t, well at least, I couldn’t adopt a little boy after… well, you know.’
‘Yes, you don’t need to say anymore,’ said Sara who knew exactly that Tim was talking about their baby son who was out there somewhere.
‘So can I have the time off?’
‘Of course you can,’ said Sara who was putting on a brave face but felt very emotional inside, ‘and I wish you all the best, Tim, you and Helen and Jessica. I really hope it goes well. I mean that.’
Tim managed a smile as he left. ‘I know. Thanks.’
CHAPTER TEN
Adrian parked his car about fifty metres short of the row of half a dozen shops where Warren Clarke’s butcher’s shop was located. The area of Newton Heath around it was a mixture of social housing and streets of two up, two down terraces that could still be snapped up for a bargain price.
‘Thank you for seeing me,’ Adrian began as he joined Warren Clarke in a small office at the back of the shop. There was barely enough space for them both to be in there comfortably and the bars at the small window made it feel even tighter. But there were two chairs and a small wooden desk and they both sat down.
<
br /> ‘It’s the least I could do after the little show my wife and I put on yesterday,’ Warren answered by way of an apology.
‘So what was it all about, Mr. Clarke?’ asked Adrian. Warren Clarke was looking everywhere except directly at Adrian. His elbow was on the desk and he was rubbing his face almost constantly. He was clearly uncomfortable and if Adrian’s hunch was right then he had good reason to be.
‘My marriage has been in trouble for months,’ said Warren. ‘Something like this happens and it’s supposed to bring you together but it’s way too late for that for me and Michelle.’
‘It’s driven you further apart?’
Warren nodded his head. ‘It hasn’t always been like it is now between us. We’ve got three boys. We have had some happy times.’
‘So what went wrong?’
‘I don’t know to tell you the truth,’ said Warren. ‘My wife has always been very demanding. It’s no surprise as she’s an only child. She was always used to having everything her own way and that’s stayed with her. Her father was the only one who could stand up to her. I certainly couldn’t and Rita certainly couldn’t.’
‘Did you get on with Rita, your mother-in-law?’
Warren paused before answering. ‘Yes, I do… I mean, I did,’ he said.
‘Warren, did you know that she might have been seeing someone?’
Warren didn’t answer.
‘Warren, was it you Rita was expecting that night?’
Warren put his head in his hands and then lifted his face back up again, wiping his mouth and under his eyes with the back of his hand. ‘It had only been going on a few weeks’ he declared. ‘But it was becoming something very special for both of us.’