The Voyeur

by Kimberley Shead

  “You decided to call then? I wondered how long it would take.” Josie sank to the floor, drew her knees to her chest, and secured them with a one-arm hug. Her mother’s terse voice scattered her rational thoughts. She coughed and cleared her throat to reply. Instead a muffled sob escaped her lips.

  “I hope you’ve phoned to apologise young lady. I made it clear what would happen if you neglected Josh. I haven’t changed my mind.”

  “I want…to speak to…Josh.” Josie buried her head between her knees to try to muffle her sobs.

  “I haven’t heard an apology yet. And until I do, you’ll not hear a word from Josh. Do you understand? You’ll have no contact with him.”

  The phone slipped from Josie’s hand and hit the concrete before the signal went dead.

  Josie kicked out at her ringing phone. It clattered across the concrete. She lunged towards it as it began to ring again and clasped at it before another hand grabbed it from the ground. She sprung to her feet.

  “What the fuck… You tried to steal my phone right from under my nose?”

  “I was going to give it to you.”

  She looked at a large outstretched calloused hand and watched as the man backed away. “It’s been ringing on and off for the last ten minutes. Sorry, look I can see you’re scared. I didn’t mean…”

  Josie moved back until she felt cool metal at her back and knew she’d backed up as far as she could. She raised her head and took in his blue overalls. Her eyes continued upwards until her gaze locked with his.

  “Are you OK?”

  Shuffling from foot to foot, she removed a tissue from her pocket, dabbed her eyes and nose, and nodded. The man smiled, took another step away from her, and gestured behind him towards the boiler room.

  “I’m Nick. I work here, on the estate… I mean. You look pale. Can I get you a drink?” He thumbed towards the boiler room.

  “Oh, no.” She struggled to her feet and wiped dirt from the back of her jeans. “I should get going. I’m stopping you from working.”

  “It’s no problem. I’m due a break anyway.” He tilted his head. “How about it? Share a coffee?”

  Josie sat across from Nick and sipped bitter coffee from a plastic cup. She screwed up her nose with each sip. Nick laughed. “Not the best, I know. Perhaps a couple of sugars would help.”

  She shook her head, raised her hand, and managed to swallow the mouthful rather than give in to her initial reaction to spit coffee everywhere. A blush crawled up her neck and settled on her cheeks.

  “Who upset you?”

  The ding of the bell interrupted the awkwardness of silence and they both jumped to their feet and leant back against the wall on either side of the lift. A young girl struggled with a toddler who swung from her hand knees raised, screaming. Two bags were piled in the pushchair like an unstable tower, in her other hand was another carrier bag full of shopping, and strapped around her chest a baby slept in a papoose.

  “Shut up, will you, River? You’ll wake up Denver.” The little boy whined some more until he spotted Nick. His screwed up face smoothed and he pouted and grabbed his mother leg. She lifted him up and sat him precariously on top of the shopping. “It’ll be quicker this way. Now sit still, River, and you can have some sweeties.”

  As the trio made their way along the landing, Josie and Nick stood facing each other in silence.

  “I should go…

  “Were you watching me?”

  Nick didn’t reply. Instead he paced. Back and forth. His breadth filled the small area in front of the lifts. Josie felt the wall behind her and flattened her body closer into it than she believed possible.

  “I mean, when my phone was ringing…did you hear the conversation, before I dropped my phone?”

  He stopped and stared at her for a moment, then sat before her against the wall. His elbows on his knees, he leant forward and looked up. Frown lines in his forehead and a stutter in his words gave away the thought he had put into the answer.

  “I heard you crying, and then your phone started ringing. I wasn’t watching …I was concerned. Why were you crying?”

  She focused on his eyes, hazel with a dash of dark brown. Emotion washed over her, and her bottom lip wobbled. Tears threatened to escape as they brimmed her bottom eyelashes. “It’s a long story,” she said between sobs, “and I’m not sure I’m ready to share it yet.”

  She felt a hesitant hand on her arm. She allowed it to stay while she vented her heartache through a wash of tears.

  42

  “Hello. You have reached the phone of the thoroughly gullible and totally uninterested. DO NOT leave a message after the tone and never call back again, ass wipe!”

  “Wait, Delilah…hear me out.”

  “Look, you have nothing to say that I am remotely interested in. Liv’s having a lie down and you need to give her space. This better be important!”

  “Good, I feel better knowing that you’re there to guard her. Listen, I’m going to be off the radar for a while. So I need you to make sure Liv doesn’t do anything stupid.”

  “So basically, you want me to carry on doing what I’ve been doing for the last five years since you pissed off!” Delilah tiptoed towards the bedroom door, listening for movement from inside.

  Albie sighed. “If that’s how you want to put it, then yeah. Just make sure she stays away from one particular woman. Her name is Josie Jeffries.”

  “Why, what’s she done?” she asked with sudden interest.

  “It’s not what she’s done or involved in that’s important. It’s more about Liv’s reaction to her. Liv’s getting emotionally drawn into something she doesn’t understand. I’ve a feeling she even thinks she can save this woman. Support her in some way. It could be dangerous.”

  The sudden sound of muffled talking in the background made him pause.

  “Who are you talking to, Lilah? Is that my phone?”

  “It’s no one important, Liv. Get dressed. Let’s get something to eat. You must be starving.”

  “Delilah, let me talk to her…”

  “Piss off, Albie,” she hissed. “I’ll look after her…You go and do whatever it is you’ve got to do.”

  The line went dead as he entered the police station. He knew now was the time to focus on work; however, he also knew he was going to have to address Delilah’s problems with him while he worked with Olivia.

  43

  The building, a listed property, was impressive, standing tall and strong within a landscape of mass- marketed, contemporary shells of buildings. Albie was proud to walk through the doors of this snarling brick beast knowing it was the one consistent thing in his life. In truth, the building was his home and its occupants his family. Albie thrived on its ever-changing issues and complexities.

  He looked up every day before entering in homage to this huge part of his life, just as he had on his first visit at the age of four on a day trip with his uncle Morgan. DCI Morgan Edwards. Albie was unsure of the accuracy of his memories, but he identified this as a turning point in his life. He wanted to be a super hero…just like his uncle! A good guy. Batman always came to mind. And here he stood—a defender of good and fighter of evil. If only life were so simple.

  “Hey, Scribbler, I’m supposed to interview the bloke they brought in from the estate earlier. Is WPC Watts around?”

  The hunched figure on the other side of the desk put down his pen, gathered some papers, and handed them to Albie.

  “He’s in room five. You might want to go through some of this first,” he said, nodding at the paperwork. “Tanya is up to scratch with everything, but you should talk to her, see if she’s up to this.” The man he affectionately called Scribbler lowered his voice to a mumble. “I mean, this Frank business…it’s hit her bad”

  With a nod and a thank you, Albie headed towards the cafeteria. He scanned the open area and nearly missed the isolated figure at the corner table. Clearly preoccupied, she stared out of the window, pretending to be engrossed in local
life while sipping from a polystyrene cup. The same game Albie played to be left alone with his thoughts. Albie slipped coins into the slot and pushed random buttons. Bending, he collected a Coke from the machine’s trough. Next he straightened and ambled forward. He knew she needed empathy, that she’d be emotional, especially because of Frank. He paused. If only he had the aptitude to be a people person. He wracked his brain for the right words which were not forthcoming. Albie sat down at the table behind and broke Tanya’s trancelike state.

  “Alright, Boss, take a seat, the choice is yours,” she said, gesturing to all of the empty chairs.

  He smiled and took the seat opposite her, leant back, and watched her, waiting for her to speak.

  “It’s okay, Sarge, I’ve got over the initial shock. I’m capable of being in the interview. I won’t mess it up, promise. I just want to get on with it. Really.”

  He studied her face, nodded, and stood “We’d best make a start then, Watts.”

  The conversation continued as they strolled through the corridors. “What do I need to know? Anything back from the attacks? And about Frank…”

  “Doing fine now. No injuries that won’t heal. Well, no physical injuries that is… He should be back at work within the next few weeks.” She followed him through the double doors and towards the interview rooms. “Layla Reynolds is the other victim attacked. She is sixteen and lives on the estate with her father and younger sister. They’re both at the hospital with her now. It was a nasty attack, Sarge. She was battered and at least sexually assaulted, although we are still waiting for confirmation of rape.”

  “Evidence. We need her statement. Let’s make this stick.” Albie leant on the handle and pushed into the door with his back.

  Tania lifted a finger. “Just one more thing, Sarge. Two people of interest have been brought to our attention. The girl’s father mentioned a boyfriend, Charlie Evans.” She waited until she spotted the recognition in Albie’s eyes. “The same guy who bothered Josie Jeffries. But more intriguing, Rattler in there, keeps going on about some bloke paying him to stay out of the boarded flats on the estate.”

  “Great work, Tanya. It’s something to work with.” Opening the door, he gestured for her to enter with a small bow and said, “Shall we?”

  The centre point of the white washed room was a solid well-worn wooden table. Four chairs huddled around it, two of which were already occupied. The well-dressed woman, a regular on-call solicitor, had the appearance of a fragile bird. However, as Albie had experienced on numerous occasions, when cornered, this fragile bird turned into a snarling beast as aggressive as a mother protecting her young. She smiled and gave Albie a wink, as if she’d had an insight into his thoughts, as Tanya turned on the recorder and cautioned the suspect.

  Turning his attention to the suspect, the man who occupied the other chair, he tried to see him through the eyes of a witness. He would be described as homeless or a drunk. The kind of bloke you’d swerve to avoid if you passed them in the park. Roughly six feet tall, thirteen…maybe fourteen stone, brown eyes—perhaps a little close together. Shoulder-length greasy hair. Nicotine stained teeth and fingers, wearing a dark t-shirt, dark jacket, and jeans. Their man also had a fondness for snake tattoos, and at a guess, Albie got the feeling this was a game to him, this hard man façade. Their suspect was from a nice middle class background. He was fortunate enough to have succeeded in a private education, or so the file stated. But here he was facing a charge of sexual assault and ABH of a police officer. Why?

  “John Sully. Doesn’t quite have the same impact as ‘Rattler’, does it?” Albie’s question hung on the air, Rattler stared at the desk. “The nickname? How did you come across it?”

  Rattler looked up. “Like you said, it’s just a nickname. I’ve got this thing about poisonous snakes, you see. That’s why they call me Rattler.” His lips drew into a sneer. He rested his elbows on the desk, linked his fingers, and rested his chin on his knuckles. Albie sat back and watched as the man opposite him grew in stature. “Deadly, some of them, ya know. A lot of people are scared of them, not many people want to mess with ‘em.”

  “And is that what you are? Deadly?” Albie pulled his chair forward, opened a file, and pushed a faded photograph of Emily in front of him. Not a true image of the drug ravaged woman Albie knew, but of a fun-loving young face, one of innocence.

  “Do you recognise her? Only I’m asking because something deadly happened to her.”

  Rattler shook his head, “I don’t know her, man.”

  “Take another look.” He slid the image closer and pointed to her smiling face. “Think, Rattler, have you ever sold her something, you know …to keep her going?”

  “I don’t do that sort of thing, man. You’ve got the wrong guy.” He pushed back the photo.

  “Okay, perhaps you’ve actually sold, or bought her, for the night?”

  Rattler leaned towards Albie and, looking ready to strike, he spat the words from his mouth. “Look, I don’t sell anything, and if I want a woman I can get anyone I want. I ain’t never bought sex.”

  “Oh yeah, that’s right. I forgot.” Albie said mirroring his movements. “If Rattler wants a woman, he just takes her even if it’s against her will. Isn’t that so?” Albie pushed the photo back. “Take a real good look, asshole.” Then taking another photo from the file he slapped it beside the original. “If you don’t remember her like that, perhaps this will jog your memory.”

  Rattler glanced at the second image, then jumped to his feet, backing away. “You bastards. You’re trying to set me up. I didn’t do this to her. I only sold her some speed, that’s all. I didn’t even know her.”

  “Sit down. Tell me what you know, John. It’ll be better for you if you help us now.” Albie stared at his stricken colourless face. More a grass snake than dangerous rattle snake now, he thought.

  Shuffling papers distracted Albie for a second. “I think this is as good a time as any for a break.” The solicitor stood. She clutched her paperwork to her chest, edged out from behind the table, and made her way to the door. “John, you are entitled to a break.”

  Albie stood. “Hold on a minute, I’ve not finished with this line of questioning.” He placed his hand on her arm as she reached for the door.

  “Sergeant, I suggest you remove your hand from my arm and give my client his break.”

  His hand fell from her arm as she rounded on him and whispered through gritted teeth. “I don’t like the way this line of questioning is going and need some time with my client.” She paused, then turned to include Tanya. “I take it you have no objections to my client having a break? Shall we say thirty minutes?”

  Tanya turned to the recorder.

  “No. Let’s say fifteen minutes, shall we?” Albie walked from the room. “Unlike you we don’t have time to waste.”

  Albie scanned the screen of his phone as it sprang to life. Plenty of texts and a few answerphone messages. They could all wait for replies.

  “DS Edwards, there’s a message for you.” Scribbler stood in the doorway, shaking a post-it note in his out-stretched hand. “The number’s here. An anonymous caller with information about the attack on the girl and Frank.”

  Albie reentered the building, grabbed the note, and murmured a thank you as he disappeared inside.

  “Hello.” A distant, muffled voice answered the phone on the second ring.

  “Hello, DS Edwards speaking. I’m calling in response to a phone message received from this number earlier today.” Albie took a deep breath, held it, and began counting in his head, waiting for a response. Fingers behind his back, he hoped the caller didn’t hang up. They didn’t have much to go on, and this could be a break through. Being silent had never come easy to him. Often opinionated, he could never understand why people thought twice about helping solve crime. That was why he counted.

  “I’m not sure I can help.”

  Albie listened to the quiet voice of the woman on the other end of the line.

&
nbsp; “Why don’t you just tell me what you saw? If it doesn’t help, then no harm done. Anything else is a bonus.” He crossed his legs. If he could have crossed his toes, he would have. He inhaled and forced himself not to speak.

  “I don’t want to tell you who I am.”

  Albie cleared his throat. “No problem. I understand that you are nervous, worried even. But I need you to understand that the information you have is important to us. Now can you tell me what you saw?”

  A few moments of silence punctuated by erratic breaths. Albie squeezed his eyes tight and kept his mouth shut.

  “It’s the boarded-up flats on the estate. I’ve seen men going in and out at all times of the day and night. Hanging about outside. Up to no good.”

  Albie listened to the intake of breath from the other end of the phone.

  “Do you know any of the men. Recognise them?”

  “I know the caretaker. Reg is always in and out of the flats, his son as well. Both in and out at strange times of the day and night. I suppose they’re working though. Not like the kids on the corner. They shouldn’t be in there. When I heard Chloe’s sister was hurt, I had to tell someone what I saw.”

  “What did you see?” As his irritation grew, he managed to keep it out of his voice. “I know it’s tough. You’re doing great”

  A sob preceded her reply. “There’s this gang. Charlie is the ringleader. He was the one I saw grab her. He’s her boyfriend, I think.”

  “Was he alone? Did you see this Charlie bloke hurt Layla?”

  Her sobs increased, and for a few minutes that was all he could hear.

  “He was there. The one he’s always hanging about with. I’d asked Layla’s sister who he was. She’d called him weird. Gave her the creeps the way he looked at her.”