by Liz Mistry
My burner phone vibrates. Pisces! I dismiss the call. First rule of, well… of ruling, is to take control. Or, in other words, make everyone else feel out of control. It starts to vibrate again. Persistent! I switch it off and shove it in my pocket. No time for distractions.
It’s dark, but I don’t mind. I’m not scared. I think of this park as mine now. After all, I seem to spend half of my time here. I glance up and check in the distance. Sure enough, he’s jogging down past the kid’s playground. I slink off into the shadows, in the bushes and wait until he passes. Not long now. Not long at all!
CHAPTER 33
I close my bedroom door and go over to look out the window. Jessie and Mum are in bed. Mum looked a bit better tonight… still flushed, but the warm soup with buttered bread, followed by custard and jam roly poly brought a smile to her lips. She only ate half, but that was better than she’d managed earlier. The cold beans, sauce hardening on the plate, had remained uneaten during the day. Who could blame her? I’d half expected her to question where I’d got the money for butter from, but she didn’t. Too grateful for something warm, I suspect. I refilled her bottles of water and left them in hands-reach as she drifted off to sleep. If she’s still flushed like that tomorrow, I’ll phone the doctor. I’ve not got an exam tomorrow, so I can wait in – maybe get some work done.
Got a special order in and I have to have it ready and at the drop off point by midnight tonight. It’s a bespoke model and if it hadn’t cost me an arm and a leg, I’d have been buzzing about it. As it is, I resent having to make it. Wonder what the fuck whoever it is wants it for.
Taking care to not move the curtain much, I peek through the gap between it and the window frame. Razor’s henchman’s still out there. Goyley, they call him. Big fucker, he is, with tattoos and fists that seem permanently clenched. He was there when I brought Jessie home from school. He was still there when I took her to the park, and he was still there when we got back. He never said owt, just stared at me, fag in one hand, a smirk on his ugly puss. He didn’t need to say owt. I knew fine why he was there. Keeping an eye on me for Razor. If Razor’s crew hadn’t been banned from the school vicinity and given a restraining order, Razor would have had either Goyley or HP waiting for me at the gates. Mind you, it’s a pretty safe bet that I’ll come home at some point… can’t leave Jessie and my mam and they know that. They’re counting on that. He’s sitting on old Mrs Udoka’s wall with a can of Stella. She’ll be furious, but she won’t say owt. Nobody says owt on our estate… not to Razor’s thugs. Not to Hammerhead’s thugs.
I get a notification on my phone. It’s an email and as usual the sender has bounced it round the world like a fucking kangaroo. No way even I can work out where it originates. This is crap. I know who it’s from. What it’s about. My finger hovers over the delete button. I’m tempted… really tempted, but instead I open it.
Midnight. Bandstand. Come alone… or you know what’ll happen, Cheeky Boy!
That’s it.
But now I’ve got another problem. How the hell do I shake off Razor’s crew? Last thing I need is for my activities as Cheeky Boy to end up viral. How the fuck did they find out? I want to throw my phone against the wall, stamp on it, flush it down the toilet… but none of that would make any difference. I’ve got no fucking choice. I’m trapped. So, I lie down on the floor and do twenty push-ups. Focus, Jo Jo. Focus!
When I’m done and my muscles are on fire, I glug a half bottle of water, double check I’ve locked my bedroom door and sit down at my worktable. All the components are spread out before me. I’ve only got the finishing touches to do now. I’ll give myself an hour, hour and a half tops and then I’ll try to sneak out the back. When I looked out mam’s bedroom window earlier, I couldn’t see anybody watching, but just in case, I won’t go through the yard, instead I’ll climb over the fences, until I reach the end garden and then I’ll skip out and head through the back streets. With any luck, Goyley won’t even realise I’m gone.
Plan in place, I settle down with my screwdriver, flick on the lamp, and crack on.
CHAPTER 34
I t had got dark by the time Gus looked up from his desk. His neck was stiff, so he cricked it, grimacing when the bones grated together sending a sharp pain up to his skull. Compo was on the other side of the room, his head bobbing in time to whatever music he’d deemed appropriate for this investigation. Taffy had gone home hours earlier. Gus suspected that he had a date because he looked shifty as he headed to the shower rooms with a bag, only to return twenty minutes later red faced and smelling of something a bit more up market than the Lynx Compo favoured.
Gus logged out and got to his feet. With a stretch, he loosened as much of the tension as he could. There was no point in telling Compo it was time to go. The lad often stayed all night, fortifying himself with packets of crisps, chocolate bars, and an endless supply of full sugar fizzy drinks. A conversation Gus had had with Taffy a few months back illuminated the reason for Compo’s unwillingness to leave The Fort, in short, this was his home and the team, with the addition of Gus’ relatives, were Compo’s family. Taffy had described Compo’s flat and Gus had felt a pang of guilt that he hadn’t been more tuned in to Compo’s loneliness. He suspected Alice had been only too aware of it and that was one of the reasons she always planned outings and suchlike for them all to go on. He shrugged… his own mum had realised too. That’s why she inundated Compo with home baking and invites to Sunday lunch.
Unsettled by these insights, Gus yawned, retied his bandana and went over to Compo, laying a hand on the computer nerd’s shoulder.
‘I’m off now, Comps. Don’t stay too late, will you?’
Spinning round on his chair, Compo grinned. ‘Nah, I’ll just finish up here, then I’ll head off home.’
Yeah right.
‘If you get anything useful from the Snapchat stuff, let me know right away.’ Remembering Compo’s propensity to forget the time he added, ‘Only if you think it’s urgent like.’ But Compo was already bopping away to his music.
Smiling, Gus headed towards the door, thinking about grabbing a Raja’s Pizza on his way home. It’d been ages since he’d had one and he had a sudden craving for a spicy keema achar topping. As he exited the lift, his phone vibrated. Hoping it wasn’t Gabriella, he reluctantly pulled it out of his pocket and groaned when he saw the caller ID. Heading out the door with a last wave to the duty officer, he paused on the steps before answering. ‘Hi, Katie, you okay?’
There was a moment of silence from the phone and Gus realised that his sister hadn’t expected him to reply. He glanced up to Lister Mills and saw that the lights were on in Katie’s flat. He wondered if she was phoning from there or from work.
Not one to beat about the bush, Katie got straight to the point. ‘She’s phoned you loads of times, Gus, you should’ve answered.’
His sister was right, of course she was, he should have answered, but still it irked him that she called him out on it. ‘Been busy, Katie… you’ve heard about the dead kid?’
Her indrawn breath was audible down the line and Gus smiled. Katie would have straightened her back and raised her chin. Her eyes would be closed, and she’d do that mental count to three before replying. He counted it with her, one banana… two bananas… three bananas…
‘She phoned you before you caught that case, Gus. Look, you two need to make up and move on…’ She paused and Gus frowned. Her voice had wobbled on the last word, like she was struggling to hold things together. ‘It’s important to me that you two bury the hatchet.’
Now there was an image. Yep, Gus could go with that one… the only thing was, he reckoned his interpretation of his sister’s phrase was definitely very far from hers.
‘She’s the one carrying the hatchet…’ His voice trailed away, as he heard a single sob over the line.
‘You okay, Katie bear?’ The childhood endearment fell from his lips naturally for the first time since he’d discovered his sister’s relationship with his
ex-wife.
She sniffed, and when she next spoke, all trace of emotion was removed from her voice. ‘I’m fine. What I’m phoning for is to invite you to tea tomorrow night.’
Gus started to make excuses, but Katie spoke over him. ‘This is important, Gus… I know you’re in the middle of an investigation right now, but…’ she paused ‘…I need to see you. I need to ask you something.’
Fuck. He hated it when she guilt-tripped him like that. She’d done it all through their childhood and she was still damn well doing it now. ‘Okay, I’ll check with Patti and get back to you.’
‘Erm… can it just be you, Gus? No Patti this time.’ And as if sensing Gus’ annoyance that his girlfriend wasn’t invited, she added a tortured, ‘Please’ to the end.
Well, this was going to be a meal to look forward to. Gabriella might be a great cook, but right then, Gus would prefer his mother’s cooking any day. ‘Right, I’ll come whenever I can break off.’
‘Thanks, Gus… I… we appreciate it.’
As Gus hung up, he decided that he’d have a single malt with his pizza… he certainly needed it. Fifteen minutes later, armed with a pizza box, Gus walked through the park. Some people didn’t like to walk through it in the dark, but Gus had always liked it. The slight gurgle of the fountains in the Mogul Garden, the faint sounds of nature settling down for the night soothed him and gave him the space to think. He was sure he’d covered everything he could regarding the Pratab Patel case. His DCI, Nancy Chalmers, had released a short statement to the press asking for information from anyone in that area on Sunday night. Everything was in hand. He’d spent the evening checking out any interviews highlighted by the uniformed officers, but everything seemed to back-up the fact that, for some reason, Pratab Patel had gone off the rails a little since Easter.
He just hoped they’d have a break in the case tomorrow… because he was as sure as he could be, based on his experience, that the sort of killing they’d witnessed wasn’t an isolated occurrence.
He crossed Emm Lane and turned into Marriners Drive, waving at the police car that was just pulling out of his street. He recognised both officers but couldn’t remember their names. The one in the passenger’s seat, leaned out his open window and said, ‘Nowt to report, sir.’
Gus chatted to them for a few minutes and then continued along the street. Most curtains were closed now that it was proper dark and, Gus’ only company was a scruffy cat, taking advantage of the dark to hunt. Humming to himself, Gus walked up the incline that was his drive and turned onto the path. As he raised his foot to climb the steps, he heard a sound behind him. Spinning round, fists up ready to take on the intruder, the pizza box landed on his steps, spilling its contents. The first thing he saw was a hooded figure, so he lunged at it. His foot landed on the squelchy pizza and slipping slightly, he executed a misaimed punch, catching his assailant on the shoulder. His hooded assailant fell backwards, with Gus landing on top.
Using his weight to pin his squirming adversary down, Gus grabbed their hood and yanked it off…
‘You…?’
CHAPTER 35
Pisces
S hould I leave a message? Will it look odd if I do…? odd if I don’t? Fuuuuck! What’ll I do? What’ll I do? I need to stop pacing around, but I can’t stop myself. Want to relax, chill!
Ping!
Ping!
Ping!
I’m gonna turn them off. Switch the notifications off. That’s what I’ll do. Just have a look first. Just a quick look, that’s all.
Ping!
Ping!
Ping!
In my heart forever, Pratab, Love Chrissie xxxx
RIP. You will be missed, but the angels will look after you sweet boy, love always Teena Kaki and Suraj Kaka xxx
Be at peace. Taken too soon, love Mrs Johnston xxx
What the fuck? Like two crying emojis shows you’ll miss him more than anyone else?
I start to type.
Missing you…
I delete it… what can I say…?
Sorry I killed you, RIP:-(
I start to laugh. RIP… RIP… RIP.
You were a fucking knobhead, Pratab… a fucking dick.
That’s what I should write. Then I’m crying and I don’t know how to stop, so I punch the wall… once… twice.
CHAPTER 36
I t’s been a shit day! Full of prayers and crying and relatives getting in my head. No space to think, no space to just be by myself and fucking think! They’re always at me. ‘Have some chai’, ‘You’ve got to eat’, ‘Come and see auntie fucking so and so.’ I don’t give a toss about auntie fucking so and so – don’t know how she’s related, and I don’t care. Why did auntie fucking so and so not turn up when Pratab was alive? They’re all fucking ghouls!
I sneak out the back door before anyone sees me. Got to take the chance while I can. Otherwise they’ll be all over me, smothering me. It’s still hot, but after the atmosphere in there I feel free. I shrug off the guilt and ignore the clawing in my stomach. I need to have some space. Darting across the road at an angle away from the house, in case someone’s looking out the window, I breathe in deeply. It’s so good. I squeeze through the bushes and onto the field beyond and throw myself onto the grass.
Can’t believe he’s not coming back. Can’t believe he’s gone. Everything’s got out of hand… everything and I don’t know what to do. It’s beginning to get dark and out here, in the field with the moon where you can barely hear the traffic, it’s like I’m on another planet. I wish I was! I lie back, arms behind my head, and watch the clouds. They’re not moving, just hanging there like grey smoke. When I was little, I used to see pictures in the clouds; monsters, animals, other lands – islands far away, with aliens. Now, I wonder who the monsters really are… where they are.
I want to cry, but I can’t. There’s nothing there to come out. It’s like everyone else has stolen my tears and I’ve none left. What if they never come back, what if I can never, ever cry again? Will my eyes always have grit scratching them every time I blink? Is that my punishment? And what about my stomach? Will it always feel raw? Will I ever be able to eat again? The very thought of food makes me jerk upright. I spin onto my knees and turn my head to the side, spewing up a trail of clear liquid that stings my throat and my nostrils. I’ve no tissue, so I grab a clump of grass and use it to wipe my mouth, then I throw it on top of the spot of bile. I flip back onto my bum and inspect the pinpricks of grass indented on my bare knees. I wish they’d drawn blood. I pick up a stone and start pressing it into the indents. It’s not sharp enough. All it’s doing is making my knees red, not piercing the skin. I throw it away, disgusted with it… disgusted with myself.
I shouldn’t really do this, but I can’t stop myself. Glad I’d retrieved it before the police visit, I pull the phone out of my pocket. The phone I need to keep hidden at all costs. I pull it out of its plastic bag and, not giving myself time to think, I dial.
Come on, come on! For God’s sake pick up!
I try again… still no reply. What the hell am I going to do? If this all gets out, it’ll be the end for me. I can’t keep the phone on me, not with the police around, not with so many people going in and out the house. What can I do with it? The house isn’t safe. My glance lands on the stone I tossed aside, and I pick it up again. ‘At least you’re useful for something.’
I dig up a little clump of grass and with the phone safely back in its protective bag, I put it in the space and cover it with the dirt and grass. No one will look here for it. No one will find it.
CHAPTER 37
E yes narrowed, Gus glared at the figure on the ground until it began to wriggle. ‘You gonna let me up then, Gus?’
His heart was pounding and right then he couldn’t move. Anger bubbled up from his feet to his head and exploded. ‘What the fuck, Alice? You’ve not been in touch for months and then you turn up on my doorstep like a fucking stalker or something.’
He glared at her for a fu
ll minute, trying to slow his heartbeat before easing himself off her skinny frame.
Alice snorted. ‘Stalker? Who the hell would want to stalk someone as boring as you?’
Perhaps it was the tension still coming off his body in waves, or perhaps it was the tightness around his mouth, but whatever it was, Alice frowned as she pulled herself to her feet. ‘You mean you do have a stalker?’
‘No need to sound so surprised.’ Gus was aware that his tone was petulant, but right then he didn’t care. Alice had disappeared, leaving him alone with his guilt and now here she was acting like he wasn’t worthy of a damn stalker. Cow!
Alice laughed and jumped to her feet much more agilely than Gus had. ‘Well, you aren’t exactly Olly Murs, are you?’
Something in the familiar tinkle of her laughter loosened his anger and, without even realising it, he was grinning at her. ‘Thank fuck for that… I’m more Craig David, than Olly bloody Murs.’
For a second or two they stared at each other, then Gus turned, rescued what he could of his pizza and opened the door. ‘Come on. I suppose you’re…’
His words died on his lips as he looked down at the familiar blue envelope lying on the mat. As Alice moved past him to pick it up, he grabbed her arm. ‘No, wait.’
He thrust the bashed pizza box in her arms and walked over to the small table at the bottom of the stairs that housed the home phone. Pulling open the drawer, he grabbed a pair of gloves and an evidence bag, before lifting the envelope and dropping it in.
‘So, you do have a stalker… well I’ll be damned. Tell me.’ And like she’d never been gone, Alice marched through into the kitchen, leaving Gus to slam the door behind him and trail after her, mumbling under his breath. ‘Sooner I get that security in the better.’