by Lesley Kelly
‘Times have changed, Mr Paterson. Since this Virus came along lots of youngsters are seizing the day, in case they don’t see another one.’
Paterson looked ostentatiously round the room. ‘How many times have I been in your gaff?’
‘Do I get to say “too many”?’
‘Don’t remember this being the set-up last time I was in?’
‘Aye, well, that would be a while back, before you got pensioned off into chasing missing students.’
Paterson smiled. ‘So, what prompted the change of layout?’
‘What do you think? All the restrictions you lot have placed on who I can and can’t have in here means I’ve got rooms lying empty.’
‘Thought so. And what are you using them for? Illicit parties? Uncarded meet-ups?’ Paterson leapt to his feet and walked round the room. ‘Used to be a door round about here, if I’m not mistaken.’
‘Sit down,’ said Vic. ‘You’re embarrassing yourself.’
Paterson pulled back a curtain to reveal a door.
Bernard thought he saw a slight look of concern fleet across Vic’s face, before it resumed its usual look of mild amusement.
‘What you got in there? Drugs, is it? Stash of illegal arms?’
‘You know me, Mr Paterson, I’m a keen hunter, but I can assure you that I have a licence for every firearm I possess.’ He smirked.
‘Hunter, my arse.’ Paterson knocked on the door. ‘Care to open up?’
This provoked a snort of derision. ‘Not without a search warrant.’
‘We could get one, you know. But we’ve got powers of immediate access to anywhere that we think a Health Defaulter is hiding – or being hidden.’
The two of them stared at each other
Vic sat back. ‘So what?’
‘Bernard, can you hear a woman’s voice calling for help?’
He wasn’t sure what his boss was up to, but he was fairly certain it was about to involve him in an illegal activity. ‘Eh, no?’
‘Well, I can.’ He turned the handle of the door, and looked surprised that it opened.
Bernard got to his feet and walked over to his boss. Turning his back on Vic he spoke as quietly as he could. ‘Mr Paterson, are you sure you should be doing this?’ He looked over his shoulder at the businessman, who winked at him.
Paterson ignored him. ‘Well, well, Victor. What are we going to find? Secret party room? Stash of PMA tablets for selling to unsuspecting . . .what is this?’
Bernard stuck his head round the door. The room was set up with row after row of chairs, pointing toward a dais. Over the platform, pinned to the wall, was a wooden cross.
‘Looks like some kind of church, Mr Paterson.’
The two of them turned round and stared at Vic.
‘An illegal place of worship? How many uncarded Christians are you letting in here?’
Vic Thomson put his hands up. ‘It’s all strictly legit. Check it out for yourself, the room is registered to . . .’
‘The Church of the Lord Arisen?’ Bernard spoke up. Paterson glared at him, and he wished he’d kept quiet.
Vic looked surprised. ‘You’ve heard of it?’
‘Everyone’s heard of it after all that bother with the drug overdoses,’ said Paterson, ‘although suddenly that particular affair seems a little clearer.’
‘Oh, no, that was nothing to do with Morley’s. I don’t tolerate that kind of thing on my premises.’
‘Bullshit. So, what’s in it for you?’
A look of theatrical innocence adorned Vic’s face. ‘Nothing. The Virus – it’s just made me think about life. Made me want to do something good for the community.’
Paterson pretended to gag. ‘Come on, Bernard, let’s get out of here before this place makes me lose my lunch again.’ He pointed at Vic. ‘And when I figure out what your angle is, I’ll be back.’
They were halfway out the door when Vic shouted to them, ‘God bless!’
3
Mona pressed the intercom buzzer to Heidi’s flat.
Maitland was sulking against the door. ‘Is this going to take long? I want to follow up this address for Donny.’
‘I have a Defaulter to find too, Maitland. One we’re supposed to be prioritising.’
‘Give it another buzz, then let’s get out of here.’
She pressed again, and kept her finger there until an irate voice on the other end answered.
‘Who is it?’
The Dream Team, she thought. Your Lucky Day. Or maybe your Worst Nightmare. She sighed and said, ‘The Health Enforcement Team.’
‘The what?’
She leaned her head against the top of the intercom. ‘The people that come to visit you if you’ve missed a health check-up.’
The intercom was silent. ‘But I’ve not missed . . .oh. Heidi.’
The door buzzed and Maitland pushed it open.
As Mona had suspected, Heidi’s tenement had a very nice stair. Not as ornate as some – there was no mosaic tiling or anything like that – but it was clean and in good repair. A couple of the doors had plants and ornaments outside them. She suspected that there weren’t too many students living here.
The woman who answered the door was tiny. Spiky brown hair and a pair of sleepy hazel eyes poked out of the top of a duvet she was using as a makeshift dressing gown. Bare legs were sticking out of the bottom of the quilt. Mona wondered if there was anything covering the in-between. She hoped Maitland wasn’t staring too intently.
The woman stepped back so they could enter the flat. Mona squeezed past, trying hard not to bump into her, and fixed her eyes firmly on the ceiling. The entrance hall was narrow but high-roofed, with no furniture in it apart from a small bookcase, which was topped with a selection of tiny china ornaments. A naked lightbulb was shining not-enough light down on them. There were five wooden doors leading off the hallway, all of which were closed. Mona was reminded of something from Alice in Wonderland – or was it Through the Looking Glass?
‘Sorry – did we get you up?’ said Mona, flashing her HET card.
‘Yeah.’ The woman held Mona’s ID for a moment and had a good look at it. She handed it back, ran a hand over her hair and yawned, then noticed Mona looking discreetly at her watch. ‘I work at an old folks’ home and I had a night shift last night. You’re looking for Heidi?’
‘Yes.’ Mona pointed at the duvet. ‘Do you want to get dressed first?’
She nodded and disappeared through a door, but left it partly open behind her. It was a welcome source of extra light. Maitland crouched down and looked at the books on the bookshelf.
‘Keep talking.’ The woman’s voice floated back into the hallway. ‘I can still hear you.’
‘Oh,’ said Mona, listening to the sound of drawers opening and closing. ‘OK. Heidi missed her last Health Status Check. As you’re probably aware we’re obliged to chase up all No Shows. Can I ask your name?’
‘Amanda Harris.’
She had an English accent. Northern, thought Mona. Leeds, or maybe York?
‘And you share the flat with Heidi?’
‘Yes.’
‘Just the two of you?’ asked Maitland.
‘Yup.’
‘No boyfriends?’
‘Nope.’
‘So, when was the last time you saw Heidi?’
‘Saturday evening.’ There was the sound of bed springs creaking. ‘She was getting ready to go out.’
Mona walked toward the door, and stopped short when she realised she could see the dressing table mirror in Amanda’s room. Amanda’s reflection was sitting on the bed dressed only in her bra and pants. Mona looked round at Maitland, who was busy leafing through a book. She closed her eyes. ‘Any idea where she was going?’
‘She said she was meeting some friends in town?’
The bed springs creaked again. Mona opened one eye and watched Amanda zip up a pair of jeans. ‘Do you know who these friends were?’
Amanda’s reflection pulled a stripy T-shirt on. ‘S
orry, I’ve no idea. We just share a flat – we don’t really socialise.’
‘Really, you never met any of them? She didn’t ever mention someone called K? Or perhaps had a friend whose name began with K?’
‘Sorry, really don’t know.’
‘OK,’ Mona cut her losses. ‘So, has she been back to the flat since Saturday night?’
‘I don’t know.’ The bedroom door opened and Amanda stood there holding a pair of socks. ‘I don’t think so but we might just have missed each other.’
They stared at each other for a moment.
‘We need to search Heidi’s room.’ Maitland stood up.
‘Why?’ Amanda leaned against the door jamb and pulled on a sock. ‘The German guy already searched it.’
‘I know, I’ve spoken to him. We’d just like to check it again.’
Amanda lowered her socked foot to the ground. ‘Suit yourself. It’s that door there.’
Mona pushed open the door and looked in. The room was a mess. The bed was unmade and clothes were draped across all of the available surfaces.
Maitland appeared at her shoulder. ‘Tidy sort, your friend.’
‘Flatmate,’ corrected Amanda. She turned and opened another of the doors. Mona peered back at her. The kitchen.
Maitland pointed to the wardrobe. She nodded her agreement, and while he set to work on Heidi’s clothes, she worked methodically round the room. Starting with the chest of drawers, she opened each drawer in turn, pulling them out far enough that she could check the underside as well. The search yielded nothing beyond a selection of underwear and socks.
She threw back the duvet cover, checked under the pillow, but found only a hanky.
‘Maitland.’
She pointed toward the bed, and he helped her to lift up the mattress. There was no secret stash of drugs or Children of Camus literature hidden there.
She borrowed a magazine from the dressing table, opened it up and emptied the contents of Heidi’s bin onto it. Using a pen, she moved it around but there was nothing of interest in amongst the used cotton buds.
She looked over at Maitland, who was checking the pockets of a pink checked waterproof jacket. ‘Anything?’
‘Not yet.’
‘Keep looking in here,’ she said in a low voice, and pointed toward the door.
Mona slipped out into the hall. Another of the doors had been opened. She could see Amanda sitting on a sofa eating a bowl of cornflakes, in what Mona took to be the living room. She took the opportunity to quietly push open the door to Amanda’s room and peered in.
The room was as tidy as Heidi’s was messy. There were no clothes to be seen, and the surfaces were clear. In fact the only sign that anyone actually lived there was the fact that the duvet had been dumped untidily on the bed, the duvet that had recently been wrapped round Heidi’s flatmate.
‘She’s not in there.’ Amanda appeared at her side.
‘Sorry to invade your privacy. Just worried about your friend.’
‘Flatmate.’ Amanda went back to the living room. Mona followed her through, and was surprised at how large and airy the room was.
‘Not bad for student accommodation, this.’ Maitland appeared in the doorway.
Amanda sat down on the leather sofa. ‘I’m not a student.’
‘You’re not?’
She pulled her legs up and sat cross-legged. ‘I told you – I work at an old folks’ home.’
‘Sorry, I just assumed you were working there part-time while studying.’
‘Nah.’ She spread her arms along the back of the sofa. ‘Do you want a cup of tea or something?’
‘No, no thanks. We’ll probably be back to speak to you again if Heidi doesn’t show up soon.’
‘No problem.’ She hopped off the sofa and scrabbled around on the table until she found a pen. She scribbled her number on the side of a magazine and ripped it off. ‘Give me a ring if you need me.’
Mona pocketed the scrap of paper. ‘Thanks.’ She stepped backwards into the hall. ‘We’ll see ourselves out.’
She pulled the flat door firmly closed behind them, and set off down the stairs, with Maitland a step behind her.
‘What did you think of that for a student flat?’ He fell into step beside her. ‘Living off daddy’s money?’
‘Maybe.’ She jumped down the last two steps. ‘Heidi, certainly, but Amanda didn’t strike me as the type. Why would she be working in an old folks’ home if her dad was bankrolling her?’
‘Fair point.’ He pulled open the tenement door, and held it for Mona to walk through. ‘Did you see she was starkers under that duvet when we arrived?’
‘You can’t know that, you didn’t see anything.’
‘I did! Not much, mind – just a snatch.’ He winked at her.
Her mind flew back to the reflection she had seen earlier, and she blushed. ‘Shut up, Maitland.’
They were halfway down Leith Walk when Maitland’s phone rang. He’d insisted on following up Donny’s address, although Mona was still itching to get back to the office.
Maitland stopped and dug into his pocket. After thirty seconds’ fumbling he got the phone to his ear. Mona held her arm out in front of him and tapped her watch.
‘Carole!’ Maitland pointed to the phone.
He ducked into a doorway, and Mona followed. He pressed the speaker icon, and she strained to hear Carole over the traffic noise.
‘How’s the boy?’
‘Better, we think.’ They could hear Carole taking a deep breath. ‘His temperature is under control now. It’s just a case of keeping an eye on him and praying he doesn’t develop pneumonia.’
‘Thank God for that,’ said Maitland. ‘So, what are you doing phoning me?’
‘I’m back in the office . . .’
‘Really? What about Michael?’
‘Oh, they kick visitors out as soon as the patient is out of immediate danger. I thought I’d come back to the office because I was feeling bad at deserting you.’
‘Don’t feel bad, I’ve got Mona for company.’ He smirked at her.
She ignored him. ‘Hi, Carole.’
‘Hi, Mona. I’m back in the office but nobody’s here! Who are you chasing today?’
Mona leaned into the phone. ‘A beautiful student, who is a member of the Church of the Lord Arisen, but also goes drinking in a biker bar.’
‘She sounds interesting.’ There was a pause. ‘The Church of the Lord Arisen? I remember the stuff in the paper. Drugs, wasn’t it?’
Maitland moved his phone slightly away from her and continued speaking. ‘Yeah, but none of the kids I’ve met so far strike me as the drug-taking types. Gullible though; they are members of an organisation called The Children of Camus who believe that the Government could cure the Virus if they only chose to.’
‘Oh, good grief.’ There was a brief pause. ‘Camus, as in the author?’
‘Yeah, are these kids nuts or what?’
‘Well, you’ve got to feel sorry for . . .’
They heard a voice in the background.
‘I’ve got to go,’ said Carole quickly. ‘That’s Mr Paterson just come in.’
‘Cheers. You take care.’
Maitland shoved his phone back into his pocket, and grunted.
‘What?’
He shrugged. ‘Just missing Carole. She’s a laugh.’
Mona got the point. Maitland didn’t enjoy her company, and didn’t hide it. Maitland and Carole had joined the HET at the same time, some six weeks or so after her. On his arrival Maitland had made it clear he wasn’t happy to be partnered with Carole. He’d complained about having to work with ‘a dumpy mum with crystal earrings and weird wristbands’ and had made a fairly embarrassing attempt to get partnered with her, Mona, instead. She was pretty sure he was thanking his lucky stars that that hadn’t happened.
Maitland set off again. Annoyingly, he wouldn’t tell her the address that Kate had given him, so she was forced to follow his lead. She kept a su
lky couple of metres behind him, and planned how she would get her revenge.
At the Boundary bar they turned off Leith Walk onto Albert Street. A couple of minutes later Maitland stopped outside a tenement door.
‘This is it, if my sources are to be believed.’
The intercom was giving out a low buzz. Mona jabbed it a couple of time, fruitlessly. She tried pushing the door open, but it didn’t move.
‘Stand back.’ Maitland put a shoulder to the door, and after a couple of thrusts the door flew open.
Mona looked round, but no-one was within view to witness the forced entry. Damage to property might be pushing the HET’s powers to its limits.
She stepped inside and within seconds she wished she was back on the street. The stair light was broken, and someone had dumped a couple of black bin bags of rubbish at the end of the hall. Just inside the door a bag of chips had been dropped, the smell of vinegar almost, but not quite, covering the smell of piss coming from the stair.
Nice address, she thought.
Watching carefully where she put her feet, she followed her colleague up the stairs until Maitland came to a halt outside flat 2f2. Maitland went to knock on the door, but she grabbed his hand before it made contact. She always liked to listen for signs of life before announcing her presence. Better to know, if possible, who you were going to be dealing with. HET officers appearing on the doorstep provoked all kinds of reactions, most of them bad. She could hear a TV or radio playing, but she wasn’t sure which flat the noise was coming from. Maitland pointed at the door, impatient to get started. She nodded, and he hammered on the wood. There was no answer, so he knocked again. After a brief pause an Australian voice sounded from inside.
‘All right, mate, I’m coming.’
The door was flung open by a young man dressed in jeans, and a faded T-shirt featuring a monkey hanging from a noose. Primates had come in for a lot of stick in the early days of the Virus, wrongly accused of being the originator of the disease.
‘Sorry to disturb you.’
The man grinned and looked at them both in turn. ‘No worries. What do you want?’
‘Are you Donny?’
‘Nah.’ The Australian folded his arms round him, and rocked back and forth in an attempt to keep warm.