by Liz Mistry
‘It could be that the teen is working with an adult and doing all the social media, technical stuff at the behest of a grown up. That doesn’t sit comfortably with me. There seems too much evidence indicating a youthful mind. However, their keen attention to forensics points to a very savvy person, whether a teen or not. So… the big question is… which teen have you pissed off big time? Preferably one with other stuff going on that could act as a catalyst… get your thinking cap on.’
Gus’ stomach lurched. He hated the places his thoughts were heading. ‘I’ll send some officers over to City Academy to re-interview students and staff with this profile in mind.’
CHAPTER 59
Zodiac
T his afternoon’s pyjama time. Lounging about, scoffing what I like, drinking voddy, watching YouTube videos, and planning. That’s the best thing about having exams… the study time. That’s one of the reasons I chose this part of the term for my adventure. It gives me the time to do all the – what I call, finishing touches, without anyone catching me. Everything has been so exciting. Last night was the best… don’t know if we’ll be able to top it, the excitement, the adrenalin.
The others let me down a bit. Pisces in particular… talk about being a baby about stuff. You’d think we hadn’t talked about it all… planned it. Never mind, they both came around in the end. How could they not? The important thing now though is to keep the pressure on; keep them on side.
The press conference earlier was brilliant. That stupid DCI Chalmers all pouting and flirting at the cameras, full of her own self-importance. Thinking she was all that. But the best bit was McGuire standing just behind her. He’d ditched the bandana and his cargo shorts and T-shirt in favour of a shirt and tie. Boy, did he look hot… and I don’t mean in a sexy way… Boom! Boom!
He’s well pissed off, I can tell. The way he scowled the whole time, glaring at the journalists when they asked questions.
‘DI McGuire, do you think there is a link between The Snapchat Killer and the intimate images of you and head teacher Patti Copley leaked through various social media channels?’
‘Is the Snapchat Killer calling all the shots right now?’
‘Is it fair to say that the police investigation into these teen killings has been less than effective?’
‘What measures are Bradford police taking to ensure the swift arrest of The Snapchat Killer?’
With every question his face got more and more sour. Poor old Gussy boy. You could almost feel sorry for him. Bet he can’t wait to get his hands on me. Trouble is he’ll be waiting a long time, for I’ve no intention of getting caught. By the end of the summer, it’ll all be over. I’ve got it planned down to a T.
The one sure thing about my plan is that McGuire will start to relax, start to ease up… he’ll get careless with his security… think it’s all wrapped up and then BAM! My last act will wipe him out… wipe him out completely.
But for now, I click a few keys and send my baby off into the ether. Leaning back, I spin the computer chair round for a bit, then tip some more voddy into my glass. Who says you can’t drink in the afternoon? My burner phone buzzes and, frowning, I retrieve it from where I’ve stuck it under my desk. Should have had it on vibrate. Last thing I need is anyone else hearing it… good thing I’m home alone again. It’s Pisces. Fuck’s sake! That name’s so apt. Wet as a bloody fish, that one.
‘Yep?’
‘I’m scared. I feel sick. Can’t believe we did that. It’s wrong. Can’t do it again.’
Irritation seeps from my pores. Can’t be doing with this stupid self-pitying carry-on. Why does Pisces have to be such a dumbass? What’s done is done. Deliberately, I hold the phone close to my mouth and exaggerate my breathing… just a little. Just enough to show I’m pissed off. I take my time to respond. I want to smash the phone down on my desk. What the fuck? Phoning me up, bursting my bubble… spoiling things for me. ‘You’re. Being. A. Dick.’
I can hear Pisces’ breath catching and I hate that wobbling whingy voice. and I want to smash the phone into Pisces’ stupid face. I’ll make sure the idiot will suffer for this. I take another swig of my drink as I listen to the stuttered words over the line. ‘I can’t do this again. It’s not right. Didn’t think we were going to…’
I cut the words off right there. ‘RUBBISH! You knew exactly what we were doing. YOU agreed. You and Leo both agreed. You were all full of swag… well up for it. It’s too late to back down now. You need to keep your shit together. Got it?’
The sniffling on the other end of the phone irritates the hell out of me, but I know I have to change tack. ‘Look, everything’s all good. We’re doing the right thing. We’re in this together. The Zodiac Club. The Snapchat Killers. Besides, last thing you want is any little secrets getting out, isn’t it? You’ve got a lot to lose if those get out… won’t just affect you either, will it? It’ll affect your family too. Look we’ll meet up later. The three of us. You’ll feel better then.’
‘I saw them on the news. They say they’re closing in on us. It were that copper. The one who’s shagging Ms Copley.’
I laugh out loud, genuinely amused at such naivety. ‘Idiot,’ I say, my tone full of indulgence. ‘They’ve got nothing – not a fucking thing on us if we all just stick to the plan.’
My computer screen flickers in front of me and then, there it is, on the screen. Large as life. The product of our hard work. Twitter and Facebook and Instagram – all through the Dark Web. ‘Check Facebook, Pisces. We’re famous again.’ And I hang up.
Somehow, the thought of McGuire’s team scurrying about trying to get it taken down amuses me. As I watch, I see the shares and retweets escalate. Everyone likes a bit of drama and… grinning, my hand drifts down to my crotch.
CHAPTER 60
G us was walking through the Smith Lane entrance to Bradford Royal Infirmary on his way to visit Jerry and Dave, when Compo rang. The recent renovations were a vast improvement to the hospital environment with a food court, shops creating a nice vibe for out-patients and visitors. The only downside was the abysmal lack of parking in the vicinity. Aware of the parking difficulties, Gus had parked on Toller Lane and jogged down rather than spend ages driving round looking for a spot closer.
The fact that he’d been expecting the photo of Betsy Reavley to be posted to the Internet, didn’t make it any more palatable. There was nothing he could do about it other than curse, which he did, rather more loudly than he’d intended, causing a few visitors to scowl in his direction. He’d probably just confirmed any racial stereotypes they already held. Raising a hand and shrugging in apology, Gus moved swiftly on. No point in dwelling on it. His team were on the case and they’d get the offending images down as quickly as they could. Still, Gus trusted that Ms Reavley’s FLO had managed to keep her away from the Internet. When he’d seen the woman briefly that morning, she’d looked ready to slump into a heap and just give up. Her mother had been with her smelling heavily of smoke and BO and blaming the police in strident tones at every opportunity. The FLO was in the process of trying to convince the mother to go and leave her daughter in the more capable hands of two neighbours who’d turned up with a bagful of groceries and a pragmatic attitude. Gus hoped she’d succeeded.
According to the officer who had accompanied the two old men after Jerry had fallen, the hospital had taken the opportunity to do a barrage of tests, which had thrown up various inconsistencies and they were keeping him in for now. The officer had been pro-active and arranged for temporary space at a hostel for Dave and had deposited the old man there earlier on and picked him up to bring him back to see his friend a short time ago. Gus made a mental note to get the officer a commendation. This was the sort of community policing they should be praising, and he’d make sure the officer got credit for it.
Gus walked into the small side room where he’d been told Jerry was and nearly turned and walked out again. Jerry wasn’t there. But a, ‘Hey, Gus, nice of you to drop in,’ had him spinning round and loo
king at the man lying in the bed in an incongruous floral hospital gown. Gone were the layers of dirt that had been ingrained in Jerry’s wrinkled face and instead of the mop of matted hair Gus had grown used to, his hair was cut and shampooed and now sat tamed on his head. Next to him sat Dave, looking much the same as he had earlier. He had a newspaper open at the crossword page and leaning on Jerry’s table, he was filling it in with a biro. His only acknowledgement of Gus’ presence was a distracted grunt.
‘You’re looking well, Jerry. They looking after you?’ Gus’ smile was genuine. The old boy had had a shock. Almost immediately Gus rethought his words. ‘Old boy’ was definitely not an appropriate description. Looking at Jerry, all spruced up, with his beard shaved off, he could tell the man was much younger than he’d previously thought, mid-forties, perhaps.
‘Can’t complain, can’t complain. Though they say I’ve got to stay in today. Dave’s okay with that. He’s going to stay at the hostel until I’m up and about again.’ Jerry’s eyes had lost some of the spark they’d held earlier. ‘That poor lass. Dave says she’s definitely a gonner.’
‘Yes, I’m afraid so, Jerry. That’s why I’m here. I need you and Dave to tell me about how you found her.’
Jerry’s fingers kneaded his sheets and he glanced at Dave, who’d folded the newspaper and placed the pen on top. It was strange to see the role reversal with Dave being the protective one for a change. But Gus suspected it would do Dave good to realise he could be strong for his friend.
‘It’s okay, Jerry. We’ve done nowt wrong. Gus just needs to know, that’s all. So he can find the bugger that done this.’
Gus nearly smiled. A few months ago, Dave would have been the uneasy one. Clearly his meds were working for him and Gus was glad. It was hard to be homeless without having to cope with untreated mental health problems too. He filled a glass of water and placed it on the cupboard close to Jerry. ‘Here, have a drink. Don’t be getting all flustered. It’s just routine.’
‘Aye, I know that, Gus. It’s just I got me a bit of a shock when I saw that lass lying there. I got a daughter that age meself and that just threw me.’ He sighed and lifted the glass as Dave patted his leg.
For a second Gus wondered if he was going to cry. He wondered about the circumstances that had made Jerry homeless but wasn’t sure if he had the right to ask him. ‘How old is your daughter?’
Focussing on something just over Gus’ shoulder, Jerry held onto the glass with both hands. A play of emotions drifted over his face, making Gus wish he’d not asked, then Jerry began to speak in a quiet voice, a slight smile on his lips. ‘She’ll be sixteen will Gemma… Gemmy we used to call her, because she was our gem… our precious stone. The most wonderful thing in the world…’
The pause lasted so long, Gus wondered if Jerry had finished and was about to speak when the older man continued. ‘Down’s Syndrome… she has Down’s Syndrome, but it never mattered a whit to me and Natalie, not one whit. She was the light of our lives. But when Natalie died… the big C, I fell to pieces. Lost my job, couldn’t keep up with payments, couldn’t keep up with… life.’ He looked right at Gus, tears filling his eyes. ‘That’s it. I couldn’t keep up with life… not even for Gemma.’
Gus tried to swallow the lump that was in his own throat, but couldn’t dislodge it, so he nodded, hoping that his inadequate response hadn’t come across as uncaring or judgemental. Jerry was in a fragile way and Gus didn’t want to distress him any more than was necessary. It seemed the man had suffered enough anguish in his life already.
Dave plucked a tissue from the bedside cabinet and handed it to his friend. ‘They took Gemma away from Jerry. Said he wasn’t looking after her properly.’
Jerry blew his nose before responding, ‘And they were right, Dave. I wasn’t looking after her. My Gemmy deserved more than I had to give. She deserved me there full-time. She deserved a dad… not an empty vessel.’
‘Yes, you’re right, she did… but they should’ve looked after you too. Helped you get better. Helped you get over your grief.’
Jerry’s smile was sad. ‘Aye, maybe you’re right, but that’s water under the bridge. She’ll have forgotten me now. She’ll be a young woman.’ He turned to me. ‘I saw her once, at her school. She must have been ten. She came running out into the playground, her hair was in pigtails… flying out behind her, she ran, and this man crouched down, arms opened right wide and she screamed with laughter and launched herself right into them. He whipped her off the ground and spun her round. Gave her a big kiss on the top of her head and then passed her to the woman standing beside him. They were all smiles. The three of them walked out of the playground, with them swinging her between their arms, just like Natalie and I used to do. As she passed, I heard her say, “Mummy, Daddy, guess what I painted in school today?”’
Tears streamed down his face and yet he was smiling. ‘Gemma, my precious Gemma had a new family and she was happy. That’s enough for me.’
His last words about family reminded Gus of Mo’s words about genetics not making a parent and Katie’s face as she looked at him so pleadingly. Why did things have to be so damn complicated?
But Dave was speaking. ‘Gus needs to know about the girl last night, Jerry. You tell him.’ And he settled back into his chair and folded his arms across his chest.
Gus nodded and smiled and, his tone conversational, asked, ‘How did you come across her?’
Jerry glanced at Dave before speaking. ‘We were looking for somewhere to bed down for the night. We like the Botanical Gardens. Always a nice breeze there and the birds come in the morning, it’s nice and comfy. But soon as we got near, we could see her lying there. Dave went over, but he said she were dead, and I just lost it a bit. I went a bit faint. The moonlight played a trick on my mind and I thought for a moment it was Gem. We didn’t touch owt. I fell over and cracked me head.’ He touched his forehead which had a couple of stitches in. ‘We just stayed where you found us and phoned you.’
‘Did you see anyone else in the park? Hear anything?’
‘Well, we’d only just got to there. We’d been up in the Heaton Allotments. Had a bit of a picnic there and waited until it got quieter outside in the village. Sometimes, there’re lads that’ll hassle us. So, we’d only just got to the park five minutes before we found the poor lassie.’
‘So, you never saw anyone?’
‘Oh, yes we did. Some youngsters ran past us laughing and jeering they were. They jumped over the wall into North Park Road. Too far away for us to see them properly, mind. But they were just kids. Wouldn’t have been them that done this… they were only kids.’
CHAPTER 61
‘S
o, you going to tell me?’ Alice perched herself on the edge of Gus’s desk. He’d been aware of her casting glances in his direction for the past half hour. The room had quietened off a bit. Compo was in his own little world with his headphones on, Taffy was at the post mortem with one of the uniformed officers, and Carlton had decided to go for a walk. After his earlier chat with the profiler, Gus had come away feeling unsettled and he didn’t like where his thoughts were going. Carlton had asked him if he knew any teens with a lot going on that could act as a catalyst and although, he’d shrugged it off, he couldn’t rest easy. After Jerry and Dave’s statements saying they witnessed a group of teens in the vicinity of Betsy Reavley’s murder, he’d sent the police artist to see if they could tease out a more detailed likeness. Unfortunately, their descriptions had been too generic, leaving Gus frustrated that, once again, they’d missed out on a lead. They hadn’t even been able to agree on how many kids they’d seen.
Now Alice was staring at him, her head to one side, her black T-shirt just a little too big, falling off her shoulder, revealing a clavicle that protruded more than it should. Despite her obvious improvements, it made him all too aware that his DS wasn’t completely back to full health. He rolled his shoulders, trying to get rid of the persistent tension that had settled in his upper body.
‘Tell you what?’
She pulled up a chair in front of his desk and rested her elbows on it, propping up her chin and looking just like a little elf with her short black hair and pointed chin. Gus settled back, knowing that whatever Alice wanted to discuss with him was going to be discussed… she had that stubborn look in her eye and, to be honest, Gus was glad she was up to pinning him down, although he wished it was about something a little less sensitive.
‘Why you immediately thought that dead girl would be Zarqa?’
Ah! He should’ve known better than to think that momentary panic of his, when Dave had told him about the dead body in the park, had escaped Alice. But how to answer? Since his chat with Carlton, things had become even more complicated. From terror at the thought of Mo’s eldest daughter as a victim, to worry that she might be the killer, he was going round in circles and he didn’t know how much to share with Alice.
Hell, he didn’t know what he thought himself. Could the trauma of finding out, not only that Mo wasn’t her biological dad, but that Mo had actually killed her real dad be a trigger for Zarqa to commit murder? Gus just didn’t know. Did he tell Alice about Zarqa being out and about the night Pratab was killed? About her running away from the vicinity of the crime scene? Did he tell her about the girl’s increasingly troublesome behaviour? About the way she was with her dad? About the guilt he’d seen in her eyes when he questioned her at school?
What was he thinking? This was Zarqa. He was her godfather. The person who was supposed to have her back… guide her through life… help her be the best version of herself she could be… and still that little worm of uncertainty ate through his heart like it was a rotten apple.
Alice frowned. ‘Gus? What are you not telling me?’
Gus studied his friend for a moment. Her eyes were troubled, and he knew it was because she thought he was holding out on her. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust her. He trusted her with his life. It was quite simply that he was concerned this would knock her off kilter. And, if he was being honest, the lingering guilt he harboured about doubting Alice’s innocence when she was in prison, made him loathe to verbalise the possibility of Zarqa’s guilt. Once it was out there, it couldn’t be unsaid.