by Liz Mistry
All in all, at worst it will cast a temporary confusion over their investigation and at best, it will completely annihilate their focus – drive a wedge between the team and make his job easier.
Choosing Manningham Library as his office this time, he’s spent the day researching Jez Hopkins. Last thing he wants is to be noticed as a regular at any particular library, so he likes to mix it up a bit. Hopkins for all his supposed seediness, seems to be loyal to Cooper. Oh, of course he has the odd fling – only to be expected of a rodent like him. Yet, he always comes back to Alice – treats her with respect. Well, if you discount the unfaithfulness, that is – he is courteous, gives her gifts, treats her well when they’re together. The Man in Black grimaces. The Man in Black hates the thought that Hopkins cheats on Cooper. He’s become quite attached to the quirky little DS. So, as well as being an idiot in terms of reporting, Hopkins’s distasteful personal life is a consideration too. A slight yet unexpected, personal element has entered the Man in Black’s planning strategy – he wants to avenge Hopkin’s betrayal of Alice Cooper.
Hopkins has a sporadic personal social media presence, as has Alice, but after hacking his emails and the security cameras from his residence in Lister Mills, he’s been able to glean a lot of information.
Afterwards, he spends a pleasant day digging into his emails at his workplace, his colleagues, and his family – the latter are all based in London. It is all systems go. He’ll do a trial run tonight and start his preparations. He wants to draw the link between Hopkins and Smedley purely because he wants to see if the members of McGuire’s team are as clever as he’s been led to believe. If they link those two deaths – will they be able to link them to the ‘ritual killings’?
He’d love to be privy to the thought processes of Carlton on that one. Wonder what profile he’s come up with already? Is he following the formula or is he able to think outside the box?
Well, they’ll soon find out.
Chapter 43
Bradford
‘Didn’t see that one coming, did you?’
When Gus lapsed into one of his brooding silences, Alice guided him down to the Costa at the back of Bradford Royal Infirmary. She let him brood at the table while she purchased a couple of coffees and two cakes. Now, settled opposite him, she looked determined to get a verbal response from Gus.
He glared at her, lifted his coffee cup, and blew the scalding liquid before replacing it on the table. ‘What the hell is she doing back here, Alice? I thought she was gone for good.’
‘So did I.’
Her words reassured Gus that at least she hadn’t known about Sadia’s return to Bradford. Of course she hadn’t. Alice wouldn’t have allowed him to walk into that scenario unprepared. He sipped his drink. ‘Suppose logically I should have expected it – she was Jessica’s best friend, after all. Stands to reason Imti and Shahid would have reached out to her too. In fact, I’ve no idea why they reached out to us, if she was coming. That bit doesn’t make sense.’
Alice swallowed a mouthful of cake, before speaking. ‘Unless she came back to Bradford for another reason. Maybe she reached out to them after they’d already asked us. Shahid always said he didn’t know where she’d gone.’
‘I always thought Pakistan. Just assumed she was still there.’
Gus felt Alice’s eyes on his face, so he met her eyes. ‘I’m fine, Al. All of that was a long time ago. I’m over her. Just wish I’d had a bit of warning that she was back before bumping into her.’
He paused. ‘You don’t think she’ll turn up at The Fort, do you?’
Being humiliated in a hospital room was one thing, having that humiliation witnessed by his team and the extended Fort population was most definitely another.
Alice shrugged. ‘Not like she was that popular, was it? Can’t see why she’d want to revisit.’
Alice popped more cake in her mouth, chewed and swallowed before continuing. ‘In fact, I’ve no idea why she’d come back here at all. She’s got no relatives here. Few friends. It’s a mystery.’
Gus shrugged. ‘Well, as long as she stays out of my hair, I’m happy.’
He drained his cup, leaving his cake on the table and stood up. ‘You ready?’
Alice wrapped the cake in a napkin, and scrambling to her feet followed him out of the Costa.
Chapter 44
Bradford
The Man in Black has followed Hopkins off and on for most of the day. He’s managed to slip a tracker on the bumper of his car and is able to see where the journalist is at a glance and right now, he is back in his flat in Lister Mills.
This is great news. Under the guise of an electrician, wearing a wig and affecting a limp, he gained access to Hopkin’s flat and positioned a couple of cameras so he could keep an eye on the man. It had been easy to clone all his passwords for entry to the building using the underground car park entrance.
Watching Hopkins lie in bed, his large screen TV tuned into some adult porn site, he’d watched in amusement as the journalist masturbated into an old sock – classy – before switching off the light and rolling over. Within half an hour, his breathing had deepened, and he could hear slight snores.
It is time. This one, despite all the supposed security precautions, is going to be bloody easy – easier than Smedley’s at any rate. In preparation, he accessed the system and put a block on the security cameras. No point in taking chances – even if he is still in disguise. The lift from the underground garage is slow but steady and in no time, he’s gained access to Hopkins’s floor. A quick glance round tells him he is alone. Cocky, he can’t risk a wink at the cameras – although he knows they’re switched off. Soundlessly he opens the door to Hopkins’s flat and retrieves first the camera from the spacious white pine floored living room. Then he selects the heavy based ornament he’s chosen as his weapon.
Moving along the hall to the single large double bedroom, he listens. The snores are still loud. Creeping forward he enters the room, removes the second hidden camera and approaches the bed. Reaching out with his gloved hand he shakes Hopkin’s shoulder, and as soon as the man’s eyes open, he slams the vase onto his head, and hearing a distinctive crack as Hopkins’s skull cracked, he whispers, ‘Guess who?’
As Hopkins’s eyes fluttered back in their sockets, he wraps his strong fingers round the man’s neck and squeezes and squeezes and squeezes. For twenty seconds – no – more – Hopkins’s hands flutter helplessly around his hands, but within another twenty he is gone.
The Man in Black stood up from his kneeling position, cricks his neck, and looks down at the journalist’s face. Oh, how he’d been tempted to leave a camera in situ to record the following day’s activities. It would have given him great joy to witness the body being found and the subsequent CSI and police investigation from the comfort of his den.
A sudden vision of him, lying on his bed, huge tub of popcorn on his lap and his entertainment on the laptop, popped into his head. But that would have been a risk too far and he was nothing if not a pragmatist. There was no way he would risk them finding any trace of him however small in this flat. No, let them work for the rest of the clues. He’d given them more than enough to be going on with, hadn’t he?
With a last glance at his quarry, he turns and vacates the room, before retracing his steps out of the flat and back into the underground garage. Luck is on his side, as nobody was there to witness his movements – partly because he’d drugged the overweight, slightly gormless security guard who was supposed to remain alert all night – You just can’t get the staff these days, can you? – and partly because he is, of course, just a lucky bastard.
Chapter 45
Bradford
When she’d heard that Gus and Professor Carlton were going up to Scotland to interview her foster brother Rory, Corrine had insisted on coming with them. Not only had she insisted, she’d taken over the organisation of the entire trip, from offering to drive, to booking hotels, and promising to prepare a lunch for them to eat
on the journey. The last had filled Gus with dread, but he hadn’t the heart to refuse her offer. She wanted to keep busy and he was happy to indulge her. Despite her attempts at joviality, Gus noticed she’d lost weight, that even over the last few days, her hair had developed curls of grey in it and there were more than just laughter lines around her eyes.
His father had initially been sceptical about including her in the trip, but he’d bowed to her logic. ‘Fergus, my love, you know the detective who tried to interview Rory got nothing from him. Maybe I can break through to him. Besides, I feel guilty for deserting him in his hour of need.’
Fergus had blustered and mumbled and fussed. ‘He killed his wife, Corrine. You didn’t desert him – he got locked up.’
With patience born of long familiarity with her husband’s protectiveness, Corrine wrapped her arms round him. ‘It wouldn’t have hurt me to send him a card every so often, now would it? He wasn’t in his right mind when he did that, Fergus.’
‘Yes, but you’re not proposing sending a card, are you. No … you’re trekking halfway up the country on your own to see a murderer you haven’t seen in forty years.’
Gus had witnessed this type of scene play out many times throughout his childhood and he was in no way expecting his mum to capitulate. However, for his dad’s peace of mind, Gus was aware that his old man had to make a fuss. It was how the two of them worked and in many ways, Gus envied their easy relationship.
His mind had flashed back to Sadia and the relationship they’d shared. He’d hoped it would develop into something long lasting, something as solid as his parents’. Focussing on the ongoing manoeuvring of his parents, Gus waited until, in the end, as expected, his mum played her trump card, placing him in the role of responsible person. ‘Anyway, I don’t know why you’re making such a fuss. Don’t you trust Angus to look after me?’
Stuck between offending his son and his reluctance to capitulate, Fergus McGuire was in a bad place. This was Gus’s cue to step in. ‘I’ll look after her, dad. You know I will. And Professor Carlton will be there too. Between us, she’ll be perfectly safe.’
Fergus harrumphed, rather like a horse. ‘That silly little psychologist? What the hell use is he going to be? Good job you’ve got your wits about you, Angus.’
And with that the matter was settled.
Now, Gus had been summoned to his parents’ house for a final ‘planning meeting’. Unsure why his mum found yet another planning meeting necessary for an overnight trip to Scotland, he had given in and agreed to come for afternoon coffee – glad that he’d managed to avoid the offer of lunch by pleading that he had to interview a suspect in the Erica Smedley investigation. That particular investigation was going nowhere fast and the neighbour he’d interviewed – an obnoxious man who the other residents of the cul-de-sac maintained was violent towards his wife – had an alibi – he had been shagging his best friend’s girlfriend while his friend was working away from home. Much as Gus would have loved to bang the man up, he had to let him go.
Glad to escape Carlton’s over enthusiastic witterings about ‘going on a road trip’ and ‘riding shotgun’ as well as his rendition of that song about riding shotgun, that Gus couldn’t get out of his head now, Gus left The Fort. The next two days were going to be two of the longest ever.
Entering into his parents’ drive, the security gates swishing closed behind him, he noticed another vehicle parked up close to the house. Hopefully his mum hadn’t double booked him. Assuming the visitor would leave when Gus arrived, he parked beside the vehicle rather than behind it and walked over to the house.
He had a key, but the door was unlocked, and Gus made a mental note to chastise his mum for that. Just because the periphery of the house was secure, didn’t mean that somebody couldn’t get into the grounds. His mother had been abducted from the front of the house a few years ago, hence the extensive security, but she had a dreadful habit of assuming that the external security made the need for locking doors redundant.
Opening the door, he heard voices coming from the kitchen and made his way along the hallway. He was greeted enthusiastically by his parent’s two dogs. After fussing over them for a few moments, they disappeared to lie in the sun that shone through the conservatory window.
‘Angus, is that you?’
‘You left the door unlocked again, Mum, so it’s a bloody good job it’s…’ Gus’s voice trailed off as he entered the kitchen and saw who was sitting by the breakfast bar. His frowning gaze went from his mum – who stood by the sink, wringing her hands, with an anxious over-bright smile on her lips – back to the woman who kept her gaze firmly on him.
Anger flooded over him – anger, that his mum had somehow contrived to put him and Sadia in the same room. Why would she do this?
‘Sit down, Angus, the coffee’s ready and I baked buns. I’ve packed extra for you to take back for Compo, I know he loves the chocolate chip ones.’
As his mother fussed about, talking nineteen to the dozen, Gus, resigning himself to an uncomfortable half hour, moved forward and settled on a stool opposite Sadia. Keeping his expression neutral, he gave a sniffy nod in her direction, refusing to be the first to look away. ‘Sadia. Fancy meeting you here.’
‘Hi, Gus. I thought it best we meet before tomorrow’s trip. Don’t want to make things any more awkward than they’ll already be.’
Gus frowned. He was missing something here – what trip? What was she talking about? He flicked a glance at his mum, who was studiously pouring coffee, her cheeks flushed a deep red. It sank in. ‘For God’s sake, Mum. Why the hell did you ask her to come with us? We’re not going on our bloody jollies, you know?’
His mum replaced the coffee carafe on the breakfast bar and straightened, her eyes lasering into him, making him falter. ‘Her, is Sadia and you’re in my house, so you will be polite to my guest.’
Wishing this whole nightmare would be over, Gus grabbed his mug, slopped in a glug of milk, and took a slurp, refusing to grimace when the too-hot liquid scalded the roof of his mouth. His mother wasn’t finished. She’d drawn herself up to her full five foot one. ‘I told you I consulted with someone from Police Scotland when the first sketch arrived, didn’t I?’
Gus nodded, Taffy had summarised the report from the Scottish detective for them, they’d not been able to connect with Rory and it had been a redundant exercise. Gus didn’t know what that had to do with anything, until his mum’s hand landed on Sadia’s shoulder.
‘You…? You…? You’re the officer she contacted? You’ve been working for Police Scotland? You’re not in Pakistan?’
Sadia’s familiar slanted smile, revealing her dimples, spread over her face. ‘Clearly, I’m not in Pakistan, Gus. I did go there for a few months, but when I came back, I needed a change – Scotland seemed a good choice.’
He watched as her slender hand reached out to stir some sugar in her coffee, her bangles jangling, just like he remembered. Instead of gulping her drink as he had done, she blew on the liquid and Gus’s eyes were drawn to her lips. Lips he’d kissed so often. Lips that had kissed him – lips that had driven him to distraction on many occasions.
There was something he still wasn’t getting, something that didn’t add up. ‘You knew Sadia was in Scotland, Mum? You knew how to contact her? How is that even possible?’
For the first time Sadia and his mum shared a look – a look filled with guilt – and something else that Gus couldn’t quite decipher. They both started to speak at once, then Sadia placed her hand on Corrine’s and said, ‘I’ve got this. I’ll explain.’
Turning back to Gus, she shrugged. ‘I was hurt – confused. You know, after my dad and everything with Jess – I couldn’t be here anymore. I couldn’t be with you. But I needed to know you were OK. That you were moving on with your life. So, when I got back from Pakistan, I contacted your mum – we kept in touch every so often. So, when she needed a favour, I was happy to oblige. I came down for Jess and now I need to get back home, so Corrine th
ought we could maybe mend our bridges on the journey up.’
Gus’s eyes narrowed. His grip tightened on the mug. This was crap – total crap. It was his parents keeping secrets from him again – meddling in his life, manipulating and conniving. He’d had enough. Jumping to his feet, he headed to the door. ‘I’m pissed off as hell – with both of you. But this trip needs to go ahead. You and Mum will sit in the front, but neither of you will so much as utter a word to me, got it?’
His frustration was such that not even his mother’s pallor and shocked gasp could make him reconsider. ‘I’m done with this shit, Mum. I can’t stand the secrets. Last year it was Katie and Gabriella. This year it’s your past, and now,’ his lips turned up in a sneer ‘Her. I’ve reached my limit. No more.’
And, leaving the two women in stunned silence, he returned to his four by four, taking great satisfaction when he flung up a shower of gravel as he accelerated out of his parent’s drive. Maybe it was time for Gus to move somewhere else. Maybe he’d outgrown Bradford. One thing he was sure of was that he’d definitely outgrown his family.
Chapter 46
Bellbrax Psychiatric Facility, Scotland
I’m jittering already. It’s that time of the month again – monthly assessment – and this month more than any other, I’m dreading it. Bernie comes over, smiling, arm out, ready to usher me through the communal area to the lifts. I stand up and do my stretchy thing with my neck and shoulder and Bernie waits till I’m done. I’m wearing a hoodie today and it’s got a pouch at the front. I shove my hands in there. I like wearing this for these sessions because I can keep my hands together. I can clench my fists if I need to or I can pull my fingers back till they nearly snap. It keeps me focussed.