Time to Play (North East Police)

by K. A. Richardson

  Marlo felt her cheeks colour, she was a little ashamed to admit she had practically been waiting for him to come home, jumping at every slight sound in the corridor then being bitterly disappointed every time it wasn’t him. Sad is what it is. You’ve not even been on one date and you’re hankering after him like a lost puppy.

  But she managed to drown out her negative thoughts – it wasn’t like she was falling in love with him or anything. She liked him. He was a nice guy. There was nothing wrong with that. Aye if you say so, pet.

  As the knock she’d been waiting for finally sounded, she pulled the door open with a smile.

  ‘Oh thank God you’re home, I need wine!’ said Deena, breezing inside and heading for the kitchen. ‘You do have wine, right?’

  ‘Yeah, there’s a couple of bottles in the cupboard beside the sink – did we have plans for tonight?’ asked Marlo, wondering if she’d forgotten.

  ‘Nope, I’ve just had a shit day and needed wine and a whinge. You fancy pizza or Chinese for tea?’

  Marlo took the glass offered by Deena. ‘Shit day? Why?’

  ‘Am sick to death of bloody post mortems, pardon the pun. Seem to have drawn the short straw this week. Had two today, both suicides. Heart-breaking it is. One of them was only a young lad. Had his whole life ahead of him.’

  ‘Sorry, love. Are you back in tomorrow?’

  ‘No it’s finally my rest days – and this time I’m turning my mobile off. No way is work calling me in if something kicks off. I’m away the day after tomorrow – going to see my sister in Liverpool for a couple of days. She would absolutely have the biggest drama queen hissy fit if I cancelled again!’

  Deena took a long swig of her wine, topped the glass up, then made her way back through the kitchen towards the living room. She was just about to plonk herself on the sofa when another knock sounded.

  Darting to the door with a wide ‘oh yes, who’s this then’ grin at Marlo, she flung the door open and smiled widely.

  Ali stood in front of her, his mouth open in shock. It was almost comical and Marlo had to stifle the giggle that threatened to escape.

  ‘Ah, a man to join our pity party,’ said Deena dramatically, sweeping her arm across to invite Ali inside. ‘Enter, kind sir, come drown your sorrows with us. Wine solves all problems, don’t you know.’

  Ali grinned. ‘Why the hell not?’

  Marlo handed him her glass – she hadn’t even taken a sip yet – and nipped to the kitchen to pour herself another. Grabbing the second bottle while she was there, she put it on the table in front of the sofa and sat down next to Ali, much to the amusement of Deena.

  ‘So,’ said Marlo, ‘you wanted to whinge?’

  ‘Who me? No, no. No whinging. Just fancied a quick glass of vino to be honest. I’ve got plans tonight anyway, I’m meeting some of the traffic lads for a few drinkypoos down at The Old Nun. Didn’t know you were expecting company, though.’

  Lifting the glass to her lips, she downed the rest of her wine in one gulp.

  ‘I’ll be on my way, pet. Don’t forget the tables booked tomorrow at Filoria’s for 1 p.m. You can catch me up on all the bedroom gossip then. Unless I need to ring you to drag you kicking and screaming from your duvet and away from the wonderful Ali?’

  ‘Jesus, Deena!’ said Marlo, mortified.

  ‘Not Jesus, pet, just little old me. I’ll see you tomorrow.’

  Deena planted a kiss on her forehead then flounced out of the room as energetically as she’d flounced in just minutes before.

  ‘Sorry, did I interrupt something?’ asked Ali.

  ‘No, she’s… well she’s a little nuts if I’m honest. I’ll catch up with her tomorrow.’

  ‘Another day off, huh?’ Ali teased, ‘to be fair though, I’m off tomorrow, too. Going in for the immigration meeting then handing off to DI Caville for two whole days. I’ve not been off for seventeen days straight now – it’ll be so nice not having to get out of bed if I don’t want to. Or even just having the time to go to the gym or whatever.’

  ‘Yeah know what you mean, resourcing think we’re machines half the time. I bet they never get their rest days cancelled.’

  ‘So, dunno about you but I’m starving. Chinese?’

  Marlo nodded, and pulled a menu from the magazine rack beside the table. ‘Sounds good.’

  Chapter Thirty

  18th November, 2240 hours – Ali’s flat, Sunderland

  Elvie suddenly sat bolt upright in bed, startled, the remnants of the nightmare still clear in her mind. She put a hand over her mouth to stifle the noise she knew she would make. She didn’t want to wake Agnes who was asleep on a camp bed beside her.

  Agnes had been wonderful to her, Elvie knew that and she appreciated it. But she was afraid. What if they sent her back to her village?

  Silently, she left the bedroom and padded through to the sofa. She pulled her knees to her chest and hugged herself tightly, tears running down her cheeks. It was awful not knowing what would happen. Tonight was almost as bad as being in the container.

  She didn’t want to go back. She never wanted to go back where people could just take her from her bed and force her to go with them. Everyone kept telling her she would be OK, that they were petitioning and giving statements for her to stay in the UK. But she didn’t really understand what it all meant. All she knew was that the immigration people could make her go back.

  Guilt was another emotion she was feeling, so much so that it was giving her nightmares. Horrible dreams about Nita getting hurt and Elvie never going to get her despite knowing where she was. The trouble was that she didn’t actually know where Nita was. The name of the street had gone from her mind, and now it only hovered on the perimeter, not quite letting her reach it.

  And what if immigration said she could stay, and then Marlo didn’t like her any more. Then what would happen? Elvie really liked Marlo, she’d saved her life and Elvie would always remember that, but that made her beholden to Marlo, not the other way around. What if Marlo didn’t want a kid hanging around, especially a kid that wasn’t a friend or relative. Did Marlo even have relatives?

  She knew she should feel lucky. Things could have been so much worse for her: she could have ended up with the man that Yolanda wanted to sell her too, or Danny might not have turned out to be so nice, or she might not even have survived the container trip. But lucky wasn’t something that she felt right now.

  I tell tomorrow, I tell them about Nita and the horrid men in that house. She need my help, she my friend.

  Elvie resumed the rocking motion, unable to stop the sobs this time. What did I do? Why is this happening?

  But nobody answered.

  18th November, 2250 hours – Ali’s flat, Sunderland

  Elvie didn’t hear the front door open a few minutes later, or notice Ali step inside, see her crying then sneak back out to get Marlo. The first she knew of anyone being there was when Marlo’s arms wrapped round her and pulled her close. She could feel Marlo stroking her hair, and it reminded her so much of Noni that the tears refused to stop.

  ‘Shhh, it’s OK, it’s all going to be OK, baby. Shhh,’ whispered Marlo.

  Elvie wanted so much to believe her. Heaving great sobs shook her thin body, eventually petering out into hiccups and occasional shudders, and for the first time, she felt a little bit of hope. Maybe it would be OK.

  19th November, 0910 hours – Sunderland City Police HQ

  Ali walked into the office with Elvie and Marlo in tow, and it was every bit as busy as it had been the day before.

  ‘Elvie, can you and Marlo go wait by my desk at the end? I just need to speak to Alex, and I’ll be with you,’ said Ali. Marlo showed Elvie where his desk was and started talking to one of the detectives as Ali made his way down to where Alex stood.

  ‘Hey, bro. Anything on Connor or his uncle yet?’

  ‘I’ve just had word from the hospital actually, Connor’s come around. Nurse said he’s still really groggy and the painkillers keep m
aking him sleep, but he’s awake. I’m heading over there shortly to speak with him. The uncle is still in a coma but they’re bringing him out of it today.’

  19th November, 0915 hours – Sunderland City Police HQ

  Elvie watched as Ali spoke to his brother and Marlo chatted with a woman in the office. She felt really alone, and didn’t know quite where to put herself. Her eyes were drawn to the open file on the desk, and she tried to tell herself she wasn’t being nosy, but really she was. There was a picture on the front that looked familiar.

  Glancing around to make sure no one was watching, she pulled the file towards her and focussed in properly. She couldn’t stop the scream that escaped her mouth as she realised who the picture was of. It was a very dead Nita Thress. She stumbled backwards, crashing into the filing cabinet behind her, sending trays and paperwork flying.

  In the back of her mind she could hear someone saying ‘no’ over and over. It took her a minute to realise that person was her. As Marlo reached her side, rapidly followed by Ali, she sank to the floor in a dead faint.

  19th November, 0920 hours – Sunderland City Police HQ

  ‘Easy, love,’ said Ali softly as Elvie opened her eyes seconds after falling to the floor. ‘You’re OK. Take it easy.’

  He had to grip her as she scrambled to her knees in panic, her eyes darting about wildly.

  ‘Nita. I saw Nita,’ sobbed the girl, falling forward into his arms and wrapping hers round his neck so tightly he thought she might actually stop the circulation. He gave her a few minutes to cry, then pulled back and looked at her.

  ‘Where? Where did you see Nita?’

  Elvie turned and pointed at his desk, her face bleak. ‘In file.’

  ‘Wait a minute, what? Which file?’

  Marlo quickly scanned the file that was open and glanced at him – ‘It’s one of the reservoir girls, the first one we got out.’

  ‘Elvie, listen to me. This is very important. Are you certain that the girl in that picture is your friend?’

  Elvie nodded firmly. ‘Nita dead. Is my fault, Nita dead. I forget the road, I forget to tell. My fault.’ Elvie started crying again.

  Ali knew the whole office was watching him. He was kneeling on the floor cuddling a girl who looked so much like the girls they’d pulled out of the reservoir.

  ‘Do me a favour: phone Mum? Ask her to come down?’ Ali asked Alex. ‘She’s now a witness in a murder investigation, I’m not handing her over to immigration, not yet.’

  Elvie pulled away from Ali. ‘You will find bad men, yes? Bad men do this. Rocko and Gaz they do this to Nita. I see them in house.’

  Alex paused, his mobile in his hand, and looked up. ‘Did you say Rocko?’

  ‘Yes Elvie say Rocko. I think pronounce correct. He bad man.’

  ‘Where did you see this Rocko?’ Alex asked. Ali knew he was trying to keep the urgency out of his voice.

  ‘Elvie not see. Elvie hear of Rocko. First at big house where Yolanda kept Elvie and Nita. Then at dirty house. Gaz hurt Nita, Rocko tell Gaz hurt Nita. Danny help Elvie, stop Gaz and bad man hurting Elvie. Gaz tell Danny Rocko will kill him.’

  The words Elvie were saying made little sense to Ali, he knew he needed to try and structure her answers so that they made sense. Flashing Alex a look, he got to his feet.

  ‘Elvie, come with me. I need to ask you some questions and write the answers down, OK? Marlo can come too. And Alex.’

  Elvie nodded and clambered to her feet, wiped her tears on the back of her hand and stood there with a renewed look of determination.

  ‘Elvie will help.’

  Once they were seated in one of the old interview rooms, Ali took the lead.

  ‘When you were brought here on the container, who got you out of it?’

  ‘Danny and Gaz get Elvie and Nita out. Other girls too but Elvie not see them again.’

  ‘Where did they take you?’

  ‘Take Elvie and Nita in van to big house. Then we eat food and wake up much later.’ Elvie’s eyes dropped to her lap, ‘We wake up in different clothes. Wet hair. Smell of soap.’

  ‘So they cleaned you while you slept,’ said Ali. He sidled a glance at Alex. Drugged. They didn’t need to speak the word – they were both thinking the same thing.

  ‘What happened then?’ asked Ali, keeping his tone soft. He was almost afraid of the answer.

  ‘Yolanda bad lady. She made Gaz and Danny take Nita, say Elvie will bring much money. Yolanda not know Elvie understand English. Noni teach Elvie English. Speak little, understand more. She say Elvie bring money because pure. Elvie not know what she mean but not like.’

  ‘Where did they take Nita?’

  Elvie thought for a minute, obviously trying to recall the exact details. Tears pricked her eyes as she couldn’t remember. Determinedly, she closed her eyes and tried harder. ‘Real Street, maybe? Real not right though, sound like real.’

  ‘Do you mean Wear Street?’ asked Alex, standing and putting his hands on the desk.

  Elvie nodded swiftly, ‘Yes Wear. They take Nita to Wear Street. Take Elvie too later. House dirty. Smell bad. Danny put Elvie in room but Elvie see Nita. Gaz hurting Nita.’

  ‘Then what happened?’ asked Ali.

  ‘Danny tell Elvie not to be virgin. Say man no want if not virgin. He kiss me and man shout at Danny. Man punch Danny then leave.’

  ‘Wait a minute, was Danny a dark haired lad, about 25 years old? Would you recognise him again?’

  Elvie nodded, ‘Yes. Elvie would know. He nice man. Help Elvie escape later. You know where Danny is?’

  Her voice was so hopeful that Ali felt bad for having to tell her the truth. ‘I think Danny was killed, possibly by Gaz and Rocko from what you’ve told me.’

  Elvie started to cry again quietly.

  ‘Think that’s enough for now, bro,’ said Alex softly, pulling a tissue from his pocket and handing it to Elvie. ‘Here you go, pet.’ Turning to look at Ali, he said firmly, ‘I think it’s safe to say our cases are now officially linked. Take care of her? I’ll go brief the super and the teams upstairs.’

  19th November, 1200 hours - High Dependency Ward, Sunderland Royal Hospital

  Connor tried to fight waking up. He didn't want to, it felt good floating on the clouds that the morphine left him on. His throat felt sore, and his tongue felt like it was coated with a thick carpet. Groaning, he forced his eyes open a slit, but the room was blurry and he couldn't focus.

  His memory of what had happened taunted him, just out of reach. He knew it had been bad, but that was all he knew. He wanted to go back to sleep and not remember at all.

  He went to turn over and curl back into the covers, but his stomach protested. It was tight and pulled painfully, causing him to gasp.

  Feeling around with his hand, he managed to find the button that released his morphine. He vaguely remembered an angel in white telling him about it the last time he'd woken up. He pressed it several times, not conscious enough to realise it was on timed release anyway so repeat pressing wouldn't affect the amount entering his body.

  As his mind drifted again, he saw horrible flashes of things that could have been memories. His dad swinging from a rope, smiling eerily. His uncle cutting the rope with a rusty old knife and laughing evilly as his dad fell with an oomph. He couldn't decide which bits were real and which were made up by his drug-addled mind.

  He felt something between his lips – the nurse had put a straw there. For a second he forgot what he was supposed to do, but then recalled and sucked hard as though his life depended on it. The cool orange juice slid down into his tummy smoothly and he welcomed it gladly. He hadn't even realised he was thirsty.

  'Thank you,' he said, though it came out more as a muffled groan. The nurse knew what he meant though. She patted his arm gently and told him to rest.

  Drifting again, he closed his eyes and fell back into slumber.

  19th November, 1320 hours - Marlo's flat, Sunderland

  Marlo didn't know wh
at to do.

  Agnes had gone to Cass's cottage, but Elvie hadn't wanted to go. Since they'd gotten back to the apartment, all the kid had done was sit on the sofa staring into space, her eyes so full of pain that Marlo wanted to gather her up into the biggest cuddle ever and never let her go. She felt wholly unqualified to deal with the situation, if she was honest. Agnes had told her that all Elvie needed to know was that Marlo was there, that she was safe and that she could talk if she wanted to.

  Marlo trusted Agnes: she'd brought up eight kids practically on her own, so she obviously knew what she was on about. Besides, Marlo had no other point of comparison. Her growing up in and out of children's homes hadn't taught her how to handle kids. She'd generally just stayed out of the way absorbed in whatever book she was reading at the time.

  Marlo had tried with Elvie, she really had. She'd tried talking but Elvie hadn't spoken back, listening but Elvie was just not open to replying. She'd tried interaction – asking Elvie to help her in the kitchen and with some chores – but the kid had just sat on the couch and shook her head. She looked small, and so very sad sitting there lost in her lonely world.

  Deciding they needed to get out of the house, Marlo decided to try another tactic. She got to her feet and passed Elvie her shoes and one of Marlo's thick jackets. 'Come on, love. We're going out.' She kept her tone firm so Elvie knew she had to go, and Marlo had to stop herself grinning as Elvie reluctantly pulled the shoes on and stood.

  The drive to Seaburn would have been completely silent if not for the music coming from the radio.

  Marlo parked up the car, still not quite knowing what to say, but she'd felt the need to show Elvie the sea. When Marlo had been growing up, the ocean had been a constant. The care homes she'd spent most of her time in had been a stone’s throw from the beach, and she'd become a frequent visitor, the soothing sound of the waves helping her cope with the crap she put up with at home.

  On a whim, she bought two ice creams from the shop and led the way down to the sand. She didn't know if Elvie had ever seen the sea, or sat on the sand, but it had always helped her.