by Jacqui Rose
Immediately one of the silver lockers popped open, revealing a safe deposit box. He walked across to it and pulled it out, placing it on the table, not knowing what to expect.
The box itself had a PIN pad and Alfie, with his heart racing and feeling suddenly hot despite the chill in the room, punched in, as Franny had said, his own date of birth.
The box sprung open and Alfie’s face turned into a picture of horror as he pulled out a pair of gloves from his pocket, not wanting to touch the items he recognised only too well.
There was a phone.
There was a wallet.
There was a necklace with an engraving on the back. All items he’d bought for Bree. All items covered in blood – and Alfie knew it was Bree’s blood.
A wave of nausea overcame him and he swallowed down the bile as he held on to the table. He squeezed his eyes shut, incensed with rage, before he dragged out his phone, and seeing he still had signal, he dialled a familiar number.
On the tenth ring it was answered and speaking in a loud whisper, Alfie snarled down the phone, ‘You sick bitch, what the hell do you think you’re playing at?’
‘I take it you found it all right.’
‘What the fuck is this all about? You’re warped.’
From inside her prison cell, Franny spoke quietly, aware the prison officers were milling along the corridor. ‘No, Alfie, I’m sensible.’
‘Sensible? What the fuck is wrong with you? These are Bree’s things.’
Drily, Franny answered, ‘That’s very astute of you, but what’s your point, Alf?’
Not knowing if he was hurt, upset, angry or a mixture of all three, Alfie rubbed his face, sweat dripping down his neck. ‘Doesn’t it bother you? Doesn’t it bother you that these are her things?’
‘No, Alfie, she’s dead. She won’t be needing them … however, I will.’
‘Oh my God! Oh my God, it’s like these are trophies to you. Kill Bree and keep the memorabilia.’
Shutting down any kind of emotion, Franny said, ‘Alf, I didn’t kill her.’
‘You may as well have done. She’d be alive if you hadn’t hidden her away.’
‘Well we’ll never know, will we? And as for trophies, you need to remember who we are and the world we live in. This is just part of it, so put away any kind of sentimentality, Alfie. I don’t have to tell you what needs to be done …’
And with that Franny put down the phone leaving Alfie alone in the room with the blood-covered necklace, the necklace he’d given Bree on the day he first told her he loved her.
55
On the other side of London, Officer Gibbs sat by Claire, taking notes and asking dozens of questions. ‘So you’re saying that there was an argument and Detective Balantyne put Mrs Balantyne in the car?’
‘Yes, I’m sure of it.’
Officer Gibbs frowned. ‘But Detective Balantyne didn’t mention any kind of argument like that. In fact he said once Mrs Balantyne had thrown the stone through the back of the car, almost straight away she jumped into the driver’s seat and …’
Claire, now able to move about, sat up. She put her hand up in the air. ‘Stop, stop, something else is coming back to me. Just before Tony – I mean Detective Balantyne – said that, he asked me to stay and wait for him in the lay-by and … oh my God, oh my God … I … I remember now, it was …’
‘Hi, you all right?’ Balantyne put his head around the door of the hospital room and smiled, but his smile faded when he saw Officer Gibbs. ‘What’s going on, Claire?’
Shocked to see Balantyne, Claire glanced quickly at Gibbs.
‘Claire, I said what’s going on?’ Not getting any answers, Balantyne then turned to Gibbs. ‘Officer, would you mind telling me what’s going on?’
‘We’re just going over the accident.’
Balantyne pulled a face. ‘I’ve already told you she’s not up to questioning. So I’d appreciate it if you left.’
‘She asked me to come, sir.’
Balantyne turned back to Claire, a puzzled look on his face. ‘Is that true?’
‘Yes but, it was … it was only …’ She trailed off as Balantyne glared at her. Then, turning once again to Officer Gibbs, Balantyne spoke in a cloying manner. ‘Why don’t I see you out? I think it’s best you came back another day.’
Officer Gibbs, unsure quite what to do, looked across at Claire, who nodded. ‘It’s fine, I’ll call you …’
Balantyne followed the officer into the busy corridor of the hospital and proceeded to walk with him. ‘I’ll see you out.’
Gibbs frowned, uneasy. ‘It’s fine, sir, I know my way out.’
Balantyne patted Gibbs on his back. ‘It’s no problem at all. After all it’s good to have a chat. You know how it is, you see people around the office and you never get a chance to talk to them properly. We could even call this our bonding session.’ Balantyne laughed, a laugh that sounded forced and unnatural to Gibbs.
Now even more uncomfortable, the officer nodded. ‘Yes, sir, we could call it that.’
They walked on in silence.
At the end of the long corridor, Balantyne pressed the button for the ground floor, watching the lift’s lights sequence down towards their floor. Eventually and without looking at Gibbs, Balantyne spoke. ‘So, what did she say?’
‘I’m sorry, sir, you know I can’t disclose that.’
‘So she did say something?’
Gibbs looked at Balantyne, though Balantyne still didn’t turn his head. ‘I never said that, sir, I never said anything.’
‘You might as well have done.’
Gibbs started stuttering. ‘I … I …’
Playing to the officer’s ego, Balantyne said, ‘Look, Gibbs. Can I trust you?’
‘Of course, sir.’
It was at this point that Balantyne faced him and smiled. ‘What I say is totally off record, you understand?’
Eagerly, Gibbs said, ‘Yes, sir, absolutely.’
‘Good. Because if this went any further … well, it’s her job. No one wants to think this accident has affected her ability to do it.’
Puzzled, Gibbs said, ‘I’m not following you, sir.’
‘The fact is, Gibbs, Inspector Martin’s memory isn’t what it seems to be. You can’t rely on what she says. Her moods are all over the place, probably because of the brain injury, and she’s angry and frustrated by it and … Gosh, how do I put this without it sounding like I’m betraying her …?’
‘Sir, it’s fine. This won’t go any further.’
Nodding as his eyes followed a group of doctors about to go about their ward round, Balantyne brought down his voice. ‘She asked me to fill in the blanks. As in, she didn’t want people to think she can’t remember things, so she asked me to help her.’
‘Sir?’
‘When you asked her questions about the accident, she was going to wait to answer them until she checked the details with me. Once she knew them, she was going to come back to you and make it seem like she’d actually remembered the details. Obviously, I said I wouldn’t be part of anything like that … It somehow seemed dishonest.’
Gullible, Gibbs nodded. ‘Absolutely … But if that’s the case, if the truth is she can’t really remember, then why did she call me?’
Balantyne feigned a sad smile. ‘You know how stubborn the Inspector can be. I guess, seeing as I wouldn’t help her, she thought she’d try to remember on her own. It must be frustrating for her, you know, not having a memory, but at the same time she’s desperate to help and show due diligence … Please don’t hold it against her, will you? I hope she hasn’t said anything to compromise her integrity?’
Gibbs looked around before he pulled out his notebook. Flicking through it, he shrugged. ‘She didn’t say anything really, sir. Nothing new … apart from she did mention something about how she remembers you volunteering to drive Mrs Balantyne home. It was a bit vague really.’
Balantyne nodded. ‘Well that’s ridiculous – it never happened. As
I told you before, sadly it was my wife driving. In some ways I wish it had been me … Look, I think perhaps it would be best if you could leave your questioning for a few weeks, let her mind settle. Perhaps her memory will be back by then. Otherwise the whole situation becomes awkward and ultimately she looks rather foolish. I wouldn’t want that. I don’t think any of us would.’
As the lift finally arrived, Gibbs stepped back to let people out and said, ‘I’m sure Inspector Martin will appreciate your loyalty, sir, and of course, I’ll make sure that her position won’t be compromised.’
‘Thank you, Gibbs.’
As Officer Gibbs stepped into the lift he smiled. ‘Inspector Martin’s lucky to have you on her side, sir.’
Balantyne raised his hand and kept it raised long after the lift had closed. A sneer appeared on his face and he smiled to himself at the idea that finally he had something in common with Franny Doyle … He had been betrayed.
He hated betrayal, especially when it came from those closest to him. How many times had he warned her? How many times had he said to her to keep her mouth shut? But no, Claire had to play good cop, bad fucking cop, thinking that she had to go around interfering. Whatever happened to loyalty? Why the obsession to remember things that could put a bomb under their new life? Well, if she didn’t care about their future why should he?
As he stood by the lift he suddenly realised the only person he should think about was himself. And of course, what he had to do now was stop Claire talking anymore …
56
As Officer Gibbs was leaving the hospital, Charlie lay back naked on the bed in Shannon’s bedroom, enjoying the salami and bottle of cola he’d found in the fridge. He grinned at the teenage girl on girl action he was watching on Shannon’s iPad, suspecting the girls were no older than fourteen, fifteen at the most. Almost too old for him.
Suddenly, Charlie sat up, breaking his thoughts. He was sure he’d heard something … He paused the video and listened again, straining to hear, but this time there was only silence. Maybe it was just the cleaners outside in the main hallway.
Frowning, he pressed play and began to settle back down to continue to watch the porn from the illegal site one of his friends ran. But within a few seconds, Charlie paused the movie again, certain this time he really had heard something … Yes, there was definitely someone in the hallway. Shit, Vaughn must’ve come back earlier than he usually did on a Tuesday night.
He looked at the door, realising he hadn’t locked it, and he glanced around quickly before scuttling off the bed, waddling as fast as he could towards the large inbuilt wardrobes.
Wanting to hide, he tried to step inside them but the sheer amount of clothes hanging up and shoeboxes stacked neatly at the back made it impossible to tuck himself inside and close the doors.
A mixture of excitement and panic rushed through him as he looked around for another hiding spot. He hurried to the far side of the room, ruling out trying to get under the bed frame again, it having collapsed when he’d been lying on the bed yesterday evening.
Hearing the footsteps coming nearer, Charlie rushed behind the silver and gold hand-painted bedroom screen, but standing almost as tall, Charlie was forced to sit down. He began to listen and watch.
Seeing a shadow in the hallway through the crack of the door, Charlie kept still, intrigued to see Vaughn walking into Shannon’s room and looking around. Charlie held his breath and his heart beat faster, and suddenly he realised it wasn’t Vaughn at all … it was Alfie.
What the hell was Alfie doing in the flat? Perhaps he’d come to take the rest of Mia’s things when Vaughn was out; he couldn’t imagine after the fight Vaughn and Alfie had gotten into the other night, that Alfie would be welcome. Or perhaps he’d come to … The thought froze in Charlie’s mind as he watched Alfie begin to open wardrobes and drawers. What was he doing? Charlie had no idea and, still breathing as quietly as he could, he stayed absolutely still as he continued to watch.
Alfie scrunched up his face as he searched the room. The place was a pigsty and it stunk, but if Shannon was back on the crack then the mess didn’t surprise him. She wouldn’t be caring about anything other than getting high. This was something else, though. It was filthy and … ‘Jesus …’ Alfie spoke out loud and jumped back, putting his arm over his nose and mouth. He stared in horror at the bucket in the corner: it was full of what looked – and certainly smelt – like shit. He shook his head unable to believe that anyone would want to live like this.
He doubted that Vaughn had been inside her room and seen this mess, so it surprised him that she’d left her bedroom door unlocked. But then, perhaps she was beyond caring, beyond noticing even. He screwed up his face again as he looked at the bed sheet covered in dried blood.
The whole place was depressing and a sadness filled him when he thought of how loved Mia had been in her few short months of life compared to how little Shannon had been loved in her entire life.
Deciding he didn’t want to be in her room any longer, Alfie made for the door, but something caught his eye. He walked to the bed and saw that tucked down by the side of the mattress was a watch and a bundle of money. No, two bundles of money. Vaughn’s money.
He stared at it and, for a split second, he thought about taking it just to piss Vaughn off. But then he realised he wouldn’t be hurting Vaughn, it’d be Shannon. He had no doubt if Shannon continued the way she was, she’d be out on her ear before long and then she’d certainly need a few notes in her pocket.
And with that thought, choosing to leave it for her, Alfie began to move away, but he frowned as he noticed the iPad and the kind of movie it was paused on. He picked it up and for a moment he continued to stare at it before, confused and not knowing why Shannon would watch that kind of stuff, he threw it back down on the bed.
As he moved into the hallway again, he checked his watch. He still had time. It was Thursday and he knew Vaughn would be at the club he co-owned until late. As for Shannon, he’d had someone follow her to make sure that they could keep tabs on where she was; the last thing he needed was her coming back unexpectedly.
He walked towards the room opposite, noticing how silent the whole place was and that in the air there held the heavy scent of lilies from the vase of flowers on the table.
Standing in the entrance of one of the two lounges of the apartment, not seeing Charlie who was now watching him through the crack of Shannon’s bedroom door, Alfie made his way into the room.
From where Charlie was, he could just see Alfie pulling something out of his pocket before he moved near the large leather couch, turning the whole thing on its back and staying there for a couple of minutes before righting it and walking out of the lounge.
Losing sight of him, Charlie heard nothing for a long while. Eventually, the sound of the front door opening and closing signalled to him that Alfie was gone. Breathing out a sigh of relief, Charlie frowned. He had no idea what Alfie had been doing, but there was only one way to find out.
Still completely naked, Charlie rushed out of Shannon’s room and across to the lounge. He looked around the minimally decorated room before making his way across to the sofa where Alfie had stood only minutes before.
What was it that Alfie had come for? What did he want from Vaughn?
Absentmindedly, Charlie scratched his head. What was it that Vaughn would’ve hidden here for Alfie to want to break in? People like Vaughn didn’t keep things in their flat, not stuff that might incriminate them or be of interest to others.
Charlie put his hand down the back of the sofa, feeling along the cushions. He scowled but then carefully he pushed the sofa backwards as he’d seen Alfie do.
He gazed at the bottom of the couch, looking at the stapled-down black fabric, and at the top corner, Charlie saw what he was looking for.
The corner fabric had been tampered with and Charlie carefully peeled it back. He put his hand in the hollow of the couch and immediately felt something there. Carefully pulling, Charlie dragged it
out of the settee. He quickly glanced at the package and saw it had been what Alfie had pulled out from his pocket. Then, without stopping to scrutinise the contents, Charlie quickly placed the couch back down and hurried back to Shannon’s bedroom, locking the door behind him.
He sat on the bed and stared at the white plastic bag, quickly looking inside it. ‘Well, well, well …’ He smiled as he pulled out the contents of the bag. A phone, a wallet and a necklace – and they were all covered in dried blood.
He picked up the heart-shaped necklace and turned it around, looking at the engraving on the back. It simply read, To Bree with love. Alfie.
57
On Wednesday morning, trying to stop herself from throwing up, Shannon sat at the table opposite Franny and a woman she’d never seen before in her life. Not that who the woman was concerned her right at that moment; the only thing that bothered her was how she was feeling, and that was ill.
She’d gone in heavy last night; off the top of her head she couldn’t remember how many rocks of crack she’d actually had. The night was a blur, which she was thankful for – it being a mixture of trying to chase the high of the first hit to giving countless blow jobs and having rough sex with men who were old enough to be her grandfather.
But now she was paying for it. She felt ill and shaky and sore. She hadn’t bothered going home; she didn’t see the point. Mia wasn’t there and Vaughn hadn’t seemed to want her about and besides her uncle’s body was probably beginning to smell by now, so it was basically all over for her anyway.
‘You look a fucking mess. I see that you’ve been on that shit again.’
Shannon wanted to cry as she stared at Franny, but instead she bit down on her lip to stop herself and simply shrugged. ‘My life, I can do what I like.’
‘No, you can’t, because I’ve got something that I need you to do and I don’t want that crap you like to take messing up any of my plans. Do you understand?’