The Broken Ones

by Carla Kovach

  ‘First thing I want to know is why he was running away. I knew he was holding something back when we saw him earlier.’

  Jacob took the tablets off Smith. ‘I’ll finish up here and meet you both at the station.’

  ‘Right.’ Gina took a breath, brushed the snow off her coat and followed Wyre back to the car. ‘Tyrone Heard isn’t going to know what hit him.’

  57

  I try to prise my eyes open but they’re stuck. The wetness that seals them is itching but I can’t get to it to relieve the irritation.

  I gaze into the darkness and I can’t tell if he’s here. I wriggle and feel a dampness in my underwear. The smell tells me I’ve peed myself. I couldn’t hold it any longer.

  Tears spill from my eyes and my nose is stuffy. With the rag in my mouth and the gag tied around my head, I feel as though I will choke. I can’t breathe. I need to get out. My heart feels as though it will burst from my chest. I struggle against the binds in this contraption of a chair and I make funny little noises through my nose and eventually manage to blow it clear.

  I want to shout and scream, everything I know I shouldn’t do but staying calm is hard.

  There’s a spark of recognition. I know who he is. I’ve seen him and I saw him looking at me just for a second when I was at the lake. It hadn’t clicked at the briefing when I saw all the photos and names on the board. He is hiding right under their noses.

  Flinching, I feel the cord cut into my arm, like it’s sawing on bone and I sob. Helpless and trapped.

  I am confused by the dark, by my throbbing head, by my damp clothing and my screaming hungry stomach and the nausea. I’m confused by the song that won’t leave my thoughts. Since waking, I haven’t heard the tune for real but it plagues me. I’m losing it. In my mind’s eye, I can see my sanity hitching a ride on the tune as it whirls around the room, out of one ear then back in through the other, a constant carousel. Each word, each note, the melody. It’s as ingrained in my brain as the alphabet song I learned in preschool. The only difference is, I don’t think about the alphabet song all day and night.

  If only I could shout to relieve my frustration, to hear the real sound of my own voice as I hear it. Others say I’m a shrill, squeaky Brummie, but when I hear me, I sound friendly, accentless and warm. We never perceive ourselves the way others perceive us. How does he perceive me? He sees Hailey or he wants me to be Hailey. Did Hailey speak like me? I need to speak to him. Not plead, not beg – try to be Hailey. How do I become someone else? Someone I don’t know. I have to assume that I look like her or share her characteristics. If I say too much, he’ll glue my lips, I know he will. Clenching my fists, I know I need to find that answer otherwise I’m dead. A bloody image of a knife plunging through my heaving chest, crimson liquid spurting then dripping as he pulls it out and finally, the sound of my last rasping breath.

  Trying to spit the rags out of my mouth, just a little, is near impossible. They’ve shifted slightly but sometimes the shift isn’t for the better. The cloth tickled the back of my throat almost making me gag, which is why I should quit doing that.

  Wriggling once again, I try to fight the binds. The skin is torn on my wrist and the wound burns like nothing I’ve ever felt. In my mind’s eye, I see my skin peeling back as my wrist chafes back and forth, binds sawing deeper into my flesh. My logical brain weighs up my options. Knife through heart or binds cutting me to the bone to enable my escape? Just a bit further. I’ve seen the film Saw, where the only way to escape boils down to the victim being able to slice through a piece of themselves. Can I do it?

  Sweat falls down my face as I cringe at the thought. My head shouts yes. The pain cries no. I ask myself again. Lose the skin on my wrist or get stabbed through the heart and dumped in a lake.

  Which is it? That is the only question I need to ask myself.

  If they don’t find me soon, he will kill me.

  58

  Gina tapped her fingers on the side of the desk that separated her and Wyre from Tyrone Heard. Shivering, she couldn’t wait to get back into the incident room where over the course of the day it had warmed up a little. Tyrone didn’t look affected by the cold in his black padded coat and his hoody that was zipped up underneath it. His chocolate-eyed stare hadn’t moved from a dink in the wood. He’d answered the basics; name, address, date of birth.

  ‘I will ask you again. What were you doing this evening at Vincent Jordan’s bungalow?’

  For the first time since they’d all entered the room, he looked up. ‘I was trying to catch him out, talk to him about Amber but to do that I had to pretend I wanted some tabs.’

  ‘What tabs are you referring to?’

  ‘Ecstasy. I overheard some of the other students mention that they’d bought a few from him and I wondered if that’s what Amber had been trying to do when he turned up at her apartment. After I told you what I saw, it had me thinking that maybe I could investigate a little, find something out that might help.’

  ‘Mr Heard. What would really help is if you told us everything you know and didn’t play amateur detective. You could put yourself and others in danger.’

  His shoulders dropped and he sat back in the plastic chair, slumping so far back, it looked like he was lying down. ‘I know and I’m sorry. I just wanted to help. I managed to get his number and rang him. I’ve never felt so scared. I said I needed some tabs for myself and a friend. He said to come over later, much later, when there was no one around and to come around the back. He seemed nervous but I guess that was because of all the police activity. I didn’t want to buy the tabs, it was just to get in there and talk to him, to get a look at his bungalow. I mean you can check. I don’t even have any money on me. I was going to look at them, pretend I knew what I was on about and change my mind. All we wanted to do was to suss him out and get justice for Madison.’

  Gina took a deep breath and exhaled. The last thing she needed was the students interfering. ‘It’s time to tell me who the other person was.’

  ‘She only came because I asked her to. I was scared to go alone and she wanted to get to the truth as much as I did. It’s all my fault though. Neither of us wanted the drugs, you have to believe me.’

  ‘Tyrone, a woman was murdered, one of your best friend’s was attacked and one of our officers is missing. I shouldn’t have to spell that out to you again. Tell me who you were with.’

  He bit his lip. ‘Alice. Madison’s neighbour and my other best mate.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Gina remembered Alice from the hospital when she spoke to Madison. Thoughts of a Scooby Doo mystery ran through her head with those meddling kids. If only those pesky kids had come up with more, but what Gina did have was still pointing to nothing more than Vincent Jordan being a drug dealer. ‘Is there anything else you’re not telling me? Think about that question carefully before answering. I don’t want to have to bring you in again for withholding information or wasting police time.’

  He shook his head. ‘If I hear anything or think anything else, I’ll call you straight away. Immediately. I totally promise. I know I’ve been an idiot.’ He began to pick at the cat scratch on his chin.

  ‘Okay. An officer will come to take a full statement from you with regards to Vincent Jordan and the drug deal that nearly went ahead. Next time when the police are chasing you, stop. It’ll be less trouble in the long run and we don’t take too kindly to people leaving the scene of a crime.’

  ‘I will, ma’am. I promise.’

  She kept her gaze on his. The way he said ma’am made her feel like the oldest person in the world. Even though he was in his early twenties, he could have still been mistaken for a boy in his mid-teens. Gina grabbed her notes. She nodded to Wyre who began to speak to the tape. She hurried along the corridor towards the kitchen where O’Connor was pouring a cup of coffee. ‘I love a boiled kettle.’ She grabbed a cup.

  He scratched some sleep from under his eyes. ‘We’ve just finished up with the drug dealer, Vincent Jordan. He’s been cha
rged. I’ve been in touch with the officers at his bungalow.’

  ‘And.’ She put a spoon of coffee into a chipped mug and poured.

  ‘There is no evidence of Kapoor ever being in his home and no evidence that Amber has ever been there either.’

  ‘You were looking into his family, his background, the lot, just in case he could be holding her somewhere else. I know it’s a long shot but what do we have?’ Gina took a sip of the hot liquid and her face contorted briefly as she burned her lip.

  ‘His father owns the property business. We spoke to him and he claims that his son is a lazy layabout and that he set him up with this job to inspire him to take over the business one day but he despairs at his son’s lack of ambition. He wasn’t surprised about the drugs. Vincent doesn’t have access to any other properties as his father doesn’t trust him with anything better – those were his words. He was meant to start small and prove himself with managing this block but his father said he’s blown his last chance.’

  ‘Do we know his father? Has he come up in the investigation?’

  ‘No, not at all. On the better news front, the Collinses are on their way. I’ve just got the call from a PC Eagleton so you might want to get that coffee down you. There’s some pasties in the incident room if you need to refuel.’

  Gina blew on the coffee and tried again. This time her lips didn’t feel as though they were being singed to her gums. ‘Have you started looking for those holes yet?’

  ‘I have and there are a couple. Corrine Blake gave us her registered address; that of her parents’ house, but they no longer live there. It’s a Birmingham address. I don’t know why she’d lie. We obviously need to wait for office hours to resume to chase up the colleges and universities.’

  ‘First thing in the morning, make sure you’re on that phone.’

  ‘Will do. Two of the lecturers I needed to speak to weren’t available last time I called and one was off sick and the administrator in charge was a temp.’ He paused and stared at the ceiling for a few seconds. ‘Do you think she’s alive?’

  ‘She has to be.’ He swallowed and looked away. She patted him on the shoulder.

  He turned away and held his hand up as he left. ‘Don’t forget those pasties.’ Her big-hearted colleague, the one who quite often with his teammate Mrs O made sure they always had food during a big case, was feeling the strain, just like all of them were.

  59

  Gina checked the time again and it would soon be morning. She’d not even managed to have a nap in her office and exhaustion was taking its toll. She yawned as she stared at Mrs Collins. She and Jacob remained seated while the woman sobbed into her hands as Jacob had introduced her for the tape. She wondered how Wyre and O’Connor were getting on in the room down the corridor with Mr Collins.

  ‘Mrs Collins. An unregistered phone was taken from you by police in Shropshire, one that contained messages sent to Amber Slater and, I must say, they appeared to be harassing in nature. I’ll read some of them to you.’

  ‘Please don’t. I can’t hear them again.’ The woman shook her head and wiped her nose and eyes with the back of her hand. Her crumpled coat clung to her frame and was almost bursting at the buttons around her bosoms. Her sunken eyes reminded Gina of her own. She guessed that Mrs Collins hadn’t been getting any sleep either.

  ‘So tell me why you sent these messages to Amber Slater?’

  She shook her head and ran her fingers through her damp hair. A sweaty smell began to permeate through the room. Mrs Collins was feeling the pressure but her lack of talking was getting more frustrating by the second.

  ‘“NoName: Don’t do that. You can’t ignore me. NoName: Why won’t you pick up? NoName: Just answer your phone. NoName: Stuck-up bitch.”’ Gina said the words as loud as she could and as pronounced as she could make them. ‘What did you want to speak to her about on the phone? Was there a rage building up inside you because you’d discovered that your husband was sleeping with this young woman? She wouldn’t answer, would she? Did that make you angrier? Angry enough to—’

  ‘Stop!’ Mrs Collins broke down. ‘It’s not my phone.’

  ‘Now we’re getting to the truth.’

  ‘My husband told me to crush up the SIM card and bury it while we were in Bridgnorth but I couldn’t, not after I’d read the messages. I told him I’d done it but I couldn’t let the phone go. He’s an expert in changing a story over time and making out that I’m crazy or make something into more than it was – I suppose you could call what he does gaslighting.’ She bit her bottom lip and blinked away a tear. ‘This phone gave me the proof I needed to believe in myself when the time came. I kept reading those messages over and over again and it hit me. He’d been cheating on me and the girl was now dead and he’d dragged me out of my home to go on the run. I know about Scarlett too. I had it out with him but he kept saying that she was a mad woman. That she tried to lead him on then shopped him to the police because she was an attention seeker. He said that what happened with him and Amber was different – but then I found this phone, in his study. He’d hidden it behind a loose skirting board. When I confronted him, he went mad, said we had to get away, which is why we left. He said you’d read it all wrong, that it wasn’t him that was the problem, it was her. I didn’t want to go and the children… he upset them. They were crying.’ She paused. ‘I’d never seen him like that before. I thought it was best to get us away from the children so that we could sort things out, which is why I agreed to go with him. He was…’ She stared into space.

  ‘He was what?’

  ‘Frenzied. His eyes were stark, his grip on me, forceful. The kids, he didn’t seem to care that they were cowering in a corner as we argued. Then, we turn up at his parents’ house begging them to have the kids and to use their car so that we can take the caravan away. They were as confused as the kids but they could see that something was stressing us so they agreed. Our car had been playing up and given the weather, they were okay with us borrowing theirs. We often did that anyway.’

  Jacob scribbled a few notes and looked up.

  ‘What happened after that?’

  Mrs Collins glanced at Gina as she continued. ‘We travelled to one of the sites we’d stayed at before, in fact it was the only one that I knew was open at this time of the year in Evesham. We have friends that live close to it and when we’ve visited in the past we’ve taken the caravan there as it’s cheaper than a hotel and they live within walking distance. It always meant we could have a drink.’ She sobbed and continued. ‘We obviously didn’t visit friends this time. We started to argue as soon as we got there. The man who runs the site had booked us in and he knew us by name. He could tell by my red eyes and my husband’s clenched jaw that something was wrong. We didn’t even unhook the caravan. We left and just drove, heading towards Shropshire. I don’t know why. It was as good a place as any.’

  ‘You know how it looks, running away like that?’ Gina leaned in.

  She nodded and half hiccupped as she calmed down a little. ‘I told him that but when he’s on one, it’s either his way or no way. I was confused, spurned and even jealous of the girl he’d had a fling with. Part of me wanted to tell him where to go, take the kids and leave. Another part of me wondered how I’d be able to tell people and if it was my fault? Did I love him enough, give him enough attention? I mean look at me compared to her.’ Mrs Collins’s lips began to quiver as she held back a sob. ‘Anyway, I couldn’t process what was happening. I let him take the lead and with a foggy head, I followed.’

  Gina rubbed her gritty eyes. ‘Why did you provide a false alibi for him? You said you and Mr Collins were at Tesco, together.’

  Glancing between the two detectives, Mrs Collins began to tremble. ‘I didn’t. He was with me.’

  Gina pressed her lips together and shook her head. ‘We’ve seen the CCTV from every angle.’

  ‘He stayed in the car.’

  ‘It’s not helping your case when you continue to lie to us. Perve
rting the course of justice is a very serious offence, Mrs Collins.’

  She snatched her shaking hands from the table and placed them out of view. ‘I’m sorry.’ She began to cry again.

  Gina pushed the box of tissues across the table and the woman pulled a couple from the box and snivelled.

  ‘He was at home on his own. No one can verify that, no one. He wasn’t online. He wasn’t talking on the phone. He said if I didn’t say that he was with me, he’d have Amber’s murder pinned on him and the real murderer would walk.’

  ‘What about the rest of the weekend?’

  She looked away.

  ‘Mrs Collins. Were you with him all weekend? By that I mean did you see him all day and all night or were there times when he was out of view or may not have been in the house?’ Gina felt her hair itching the back of her neck as she waited with anticipation.

  ‘He was at home but we weren’t together. He spent the weekend in his study. He has a daybed in there and we’d been arguing about all this. About the messages.’

  ‘Could he have left without you knowing?’

  She slowly nodded, her large eyed gaze meeting Gina’s. ‘I don’t know, maybe. He didn’t do it though. He’s the father of my children. He can’t be a murderer.’

  ‘Do you recognise this woman?’ Gina held the photo of Madison up to Mrs Collins. ‘Or this one?’ Then the photo of PC Kapoor.

  ‘No. I’ve never seen either of them before.’

  ‘Monday night. Where was he? Did you see him?’

  ‘Yes. We both sat at the kitchen table drowning our sorrows and bickering. I did see him that night – all night. We’ve been together since we left in the caravan too.’

  Things weren’t fitting together. If Mr Collins had taken PC Kapoor, what had he done with her?

  ‘He cheated on me. It’s clear from the messages he’s an arsehole but that’s everything. I was foolish. He was too. We should have known how this could escalate by running away and not being straight with you.’ The woman scraped the legs of the chair along the floor and clicked her fingers as if to retrieve a thought. She waved her arms and her eyes seemed to widen. ‘That’s it. I can prove he was in on Monday night. Our neighbour popped by to deliver some Avon that I ordered from her, and my husband answered. If you don’t believe me, you can ask her. Her name’s Elaine. It’s the house next door to ours. On the right if you’re looking towards us.’