Albie felt his pulse pick up and had to steady his voice. “Did she mention a name?”
“Um, not really a name. Some sort of snake, I can’t remember. Like I said, she didn’t have anything to do with him. It was him though. He’s the one that took her sister into the boarded flat. At first I thought they were mucking about. She was kicking and screaming a bit, but then he scooped her up. She’d gone quiet. Then her head lolled back, I thought… That’s all I remember.”
Silence. The line died.
Albie scrolled through his phone.
“Hi, Tanya, I think we’ll leave Mr. Rattler to stew in his own venom for a while. Can you see if we have had dealings with the caretaker? I’ve also been informed that his son is living at home. Might be an idea to look into his background as well, see if you can find any dirt.” Albie slipped his phone into his pocket. “Scribbler, I’ll be in the canteen if anyone asks. D’you want anything?” Scribbler raised his hand, shook his head, and continued writing.
44
Josie wandered to the end of the tree-lined cul-de-sac and admired the sleek modern flats flanked by terraced town houses, white-washed with shining metal Juliet balconies. Over-filled flower boxes were alive with an abundance of flowering plants. This was a snippet of the world she coveted. Deep down, she knew a place like this was where she truly belonged. During the reasonably uneventful journey, she couldn’t help but notice the change in landscape from concrete estates and boarded shops to high class businesses, wide expanses of fields, and the subtle smell of farm animals. As with the landscape, she couldn’t help but notice a significant change of passenger the further from town they travelled. Not a baggy-trousered baseball-cap-wearing youth in sight.
Boarding the bus had been a split-second decision. Unsure of where to go, a lack of friends to contact and the solitude of her flat had felt less tempting than ever before. She’d walked the short distance across the ploughed-up ground separating the estate from the rest of civilisation. The more distance she put between herself and the estate, the more an invisible weight lifted from her shoulders. It was for that reason Josie continued her journey to the bus’s turn around point.
If nothing else, she’d gained thinking time. A chance to reflect on the whole of the twenty-three-years she had already spent on this earth. She finally came to the conclusion that life could get better for her and Josh if she took control. Until now others had been in charge of her life. Her mother, Tyler, even Emily. By the time the bus pulled into the turn around point, Josie had made a decision. Her life began today, and she was the only person responsible for the type of life she led.
The little white card’s delicate gold emblem sparkled in the late afternoon sunshine. Josie held it between her finger and thumb and studied the dark green calligraphy as she scanned her surroundings. The road was quiet for early evening, and Josie imagined families gathered together around tables overloaded with food, laughing together and sharing the events of the day.
Josie stopped at the end of the road and walked the circular pathway until she paired the door number with the communal entrance name on the card. She pressed the buzzer and waited. When there was no answer, she crossed her arms and rubbed them with vigour to eradicate a sudden chill as the sun began to set.
Unbelievable. She remembered seeing her thick jacket thrown over the bannister. So stupid, she thought and pulled her thin cotton jacket tighter round her body. She pressed the buzzer again, stamped her feet, and rubbed her hands together. The longer she waited, the more she doubted her own conviction. Weary, she wandered to a small wooden bench situated in the middle of a lush patch of grass frontage which ran the length of the flats. Josie sank onto it, slouched over, and began to contemplate her next move. She grinned. After only just deciding to get her life back on track, already there were obstacles in her way. There was nothing else to do but wait. She slipped her jacket off and wrapped it round her upper body as she snuggled down onto the hard upright bench, closed her eyes, and waited.
Josie stretched, opened her eyes, and sat upright. She was unsure whether she had actually slept, although her stiff body suggested she had. When she first heard laughter and chattering, she panicked, rubbed her eyes with the back of her hands, and jumped to her feet. The giggling drew her attention to the two figures as they strolled in her direction.
“I have never, for the life of me, understood the attraction. Right from the beginning when you first met him.” Delilah waited for a response and after receiving little else but a sigh, continued listing Albie’s faults. “Let’s face it—he’s ambitious, moody, demanding, and essentially, completely in the wrong job, considering his pedigree and breeding.”
“You know you’re not helping. Haven’t you heard, trying to talk someone out of a relationship is one way of sealing their fate? In other words, you’re going the right way to push me straight back into his arms, dear Lilah.” Olivia giggled again at the thought.
“This is generally a nice neighbourhood, wouldn’t you say, Liv?” Delilah said, distracted by the waif-like figure seated on the edge of the bench focused on their every step.
“What do you mean?” Olivia followed Delilah’s gaze.
As the figure moved towards them, Delilah took in her messy, matted blond hair. At closer scrutiny, they could see it shrouded a tiny pixie face, pale and ghostly. Round eyes too large for her face were framed by fair brows and lashes. She looked like a child whose mother had clothed her in ill fitting clothes thrown on in a haphazard manner. Recognition struck Delilah. This must be Josie Jeffries. Albie had warned her about the girl and just her look cried desperation.
Delilah leaned towards Olivia and slipped her arm through her friend’s, guiding her away from the approaching girl.
“Just ignore her,” she muttered almost to herself.
“Olivia…Olivia Devine. It’s me, Josie Jeffries. You gave me your card.” She waved it in front of them.
“Just keep walking, Olivia.” Delilah tightened her grip and held her other hand out for the key.
“I need your help. I have to get my son back. I don’t know who else to ask.” Josie ran towards the women. Desperate to be heard, she pushed her body between Delilah and the door. “I’ve travelled a long way and waited for hours to talk to you. I’m desperate. Please, just give me ten minutes of your time.”
“She has office hours, you know. Why can’t you be like all of her other clients and speak to her at work?” Delilah used her shoulder and shoved her out of the way, then unlocked the door.
“I’m not a client of Miss Devine. I need advice and I need it urgently.” Josie barged between the women and held her hands, as if in prayer, in front of Olivia. “Please, just ten minutes?”
Delilah looked from one to the other then led the way into the flat.
“Go and sit down, I’ll make a pot of coffee.” She walked straight through to the kitchen. Without hesitation, she closed the kitchen door, filled the kettle, and pulled her phone from her handbag.
“Hi Albie, you’re the last person I thought I’d be phoning. I know it’s late, but you need to get to Olivia’s asap. I think we have a problem.”
45
Albie paced to the centre of the incident room, stopped, pivoted, circled the space, and scanned the desks. As evening prepared to merge into the early hours of the morning, so activity decreased and his colleagues went off shift. He slumped down at a desk and tried to process the information they’d collected so far. There was no doubt in his mind that Josie Jeffries was a link that they needed to investigate. Sure, she appeared to be a victim in a casual sense of the word. Perhaps you’d call her a victim by association. It didn’t really matter how her connection was defined. It was a connection. So far, she was associated in some way with two murder victims, a child who was released of his tongue while in her care, and an attack on a man she’d just parted with after spending an evening in his company. Now Miss Jeffries attracted other members of the criminal element from the estate, and they have
been sniffing round her as if she were a bitch on heat.
Albie clenched his fist and thumped the desk. The last place he wanted to visit was Olivia’s but if that was where Josie had pitched her tent, he had no choice.
The probability of him being missed at this time of night was slim. Even so, Albie scribbled a note for Tanya and Frank, then made his way to the underground car park and began his journey to Olivia’s new house.
Life was strange, he concurred as he sat at traffic lights. If Olivia hadn’t being dragged into this investigation because of her connection with Mitchell, they may never have come into contact again. He didn’t understand why it bothered him that Olivia had chosen to move to a new home just ten minutes from his work, not too far from his home. Especially after his actions five years before. It was possible they’d trodden the same paths, breathed the same air, or even passed in the street without noticing.
He pulled into the curb. He knew his betrayal had caused Olivia immense pain at the time, so the fact she’d chosen to move close enough to live parallel life to his own nipped at his own feeling. If he gave the subject too much thought, Albie’s natural instincts would wander into the realms of revenge being a reason for Olivia’s return. If nothing else her close proximity definitely held a touch of the macabre.
Albie paced towards the end of the cul-de-sac, deep in thought. The well lit road was deadly quiet. The odd curtain twitched—dedicated members of the local neighbourhood watch aware of the onset of the security lights. He slowed, wiped his sweaty palms down the front of his trousers, and took a few deep breaths.
The door flew open as he raised his hand to knock.
“Oh good, you’re here.” Delilah’s mouth screwed up, forming a small rosebud. She squinted as if she’d just sucked a slice of lemon. “So glad you could spare me some time.” Her familiar sarcasm made him smile as he followed her inside.
Two paintings adorned the cream walls in the hallway. Both looked like Picasso prints, but the titles escaped his memory. Delilah led him through the living area to a bedroom behind the second door on the right. Light splashed all areas of the lilac and cream room, offset by solid light pine furniture. He noted lidless lotions and perfumes scattered across the highly varnished dressing table. Items of clothing were draped over a chair in the corner and an unmade bed. He sat on the edge of the chair, careful not to lean back on the clothes, and watched the figure in front of him pace the floor—a reflection of his own movements back at the station.
“What’s going on, Delilah? Where’s Liv now?”
“First, you owe me an explanation.” She raised her hand to stop any argument. “Why’s it so important for Liv to stay away from this woman?”
Albie pushed himself to standing. “Why, is she still here, now?” He reached around her to get to the door.
“Don’t do that, Albie. Stop answering a question with a question. You asked me to look after her, although I’m not sure what from. It’s alright. We can talk. Liv’s in the bath and the woman’s asleep in the box room. Why don’t you tell me what’s going on?”
He leant back, perched on the edge of the dressing table, which dug into the back of his thighs, and crossed his arms.
“Delilah, it’s an open investigation so there’s a limit to what I can share with you, or anyone.”
“I’m not a total idiot.” She sauntered towards him, placed a hand on each thigh, and leaned forward between his legs like an intimate lover about to share a secret. Through gritted teeth, she whispered, “Is this woman a danger to Liv or not? You see, Liv is important to me. I know love and loyalty aren’t in your vocabulary, so I’m going to spell it out for you. Are you going to tell me everything or am I going to start removing appendages?”
Albie felt the cool of the dressing table mirror through his shirt as he backed away from Delilah’s wandering hand, which hesitated just below his family jewels.
“Shit, Delilah, back off.” Albie swung to the side, and lotions and perfumes fell to the carpet as he found his feet. “You win, alright. I’ll tell you what I can.”
Delilah shuffled back, a smile etched her face and laughter lines creasing her skin.
With one hand, Albie undid his top button and loosened his collar and tie.
“The case involves violence towards victims, including two fatalities…”
“Tell me something I don’t know. It’s been on the news, you know.”
Albie raised his arms, palms forward. “It’s unlikely Josie’s a suspect, but she’s not ruled out. However, she is the one link we have between the cases.”
“What do you mean, like a catalyst?”
“Perhaps. I don’t think she’s dangerous, she just seems to attract trouble.”
Delilah slumped in a chair in the corner of the room and leant forward, chin in hands.
“So let me get this straight. This girl is a victim who courts trouble and you’re worried because Liv is a magnet for victims?”
“In a nut shell, yes.”
“So who exactly do you expect me to protect, Liv or this girl?”
Albie looked into eyes brimming with accusations.
“I get the cynicism, Delilah. Criticise all you want, but Liv’s welfare is important to me.”
Delilah sprang to her feet and jabbed her finger at him.
“You made it quite clear five years ago the importance she held for you. Where she ranked in your priorities. She always played second fiddle to your thriving career. So what’s changed?”
“You’re right.” He lowered his voice. “I’ve always been a selfish prick. I was in over my head with that case. I saw the opportunity and took it.”
“So you used my best friend as a scapegoat.” She was so close, he felt the spittle on his face when she spoke. His hands hovered automatically over his groin. “I had to watch your career thrive while Liv’s career crumbled. Almost ended.”
“I made mistakes. I know you think I’m talking crap, but I had no choice. My hands were tied, and deep down I know Liv’s figured that out.”
She tipped her head and studied his eyes. “You really don’t understand or care about the damage you caused. It’s business as usual with you.” She opened the bedroom door and waited for him to walk past. “You just get rid of the woman. Leave Liv to me. Hopefully this is the last time we’ll have to meet.”
The cool air was a relief to Albie’s heated cheeks as he strolled the hundred yards to his car. He scanned the area and pulled out his phone.
“Tanya, one more job for you before you knock off. Pick up Josie Jeffries from the address I text you. Take Henry with you”
He shuffled his feet.
“Well give her a choice. She can either go home or stay at the station over night. Either way, we’ll be questioning her in the morning about all these cases we have piling up. Oh, and Tanya. Keep the pick up address between us.”
46
Tanya Watts flicked sleep from the corner of her eye. She’d slept through for the first night since the attack on Frank and as a consequence felt exhausted. She gave her cheeks a slap and felt her blood rush. Pleased with the tinge of rose to colour her pallid skin, Tanya picked up a comb to tackle the tangles in her hair. She stepped from the lift, smoothed down the front of her uniform, and walked over the threshold of Josie Jeffries’ home.
Unsure of the number of hours the team had been on the premises, she took in their jaded faces and limited conversation. At a guess, she’d say they’d be knocking off soon. Tanya stood in the doorway. Most of the activity appeared to be coming from the kitchen, where a gaggle of uniformed bodies was bagging up evidence. She managed to force a passage through the crowded space and catch the attention of the man in charge.
“PC Watts.” A full-faced man with a Cheshire cat grin held out a chubby hand in greeting. “It’s been a while, Tanya.”
“Sir,” she said, shaking his outstretched hand with the lightest of grips. “It’s good to see you. I thought you were working in Kent.”
&n
bsp; “No, this is the new me. New start, new role. Kent is behind me now.”
“That’s great news, sir. It looks like we’re both fortunate to have been given a second chance after our time there.”
She watched as he fiddled with the sticky labels, recorded, and packed the evidence bags. “Plenty of evidence then?” She nodded at the boxed items.
“Ay, poor girl. I don’t think she’s been alone in any part of the house. Not in a long while.”
Tanya picked up a minute metal gadget bagged and labelled. Her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. She drew saliva from the back of her throat. “So he’s been watching her every move?” she asked without need of an answer.
“Not just watching, Watts.” He offered her another device. “He’s listened to every conversation she’s had as well, whether in person or on the phone. This bloke’s a pro. He’s done this before. He knows her better than she knows herself.”
She swallowed down the bile at the back of her throat and handed back the device, “Thanks, sir.” She slipped her mobile from her pocket and headed for the car.
“It’s worse than we thought, Sarge. I’ll fill you in. I’m on my way back to the station now.”
Josie slouched over the table in the interview room. She picked at a plate of half eaten toast and sipped from a plastic cup. She wrinkled her nose and protruded her tongue in distaste. Tanya recognised that reaction. The hot chocolate from the machine was drinkable, but that was about all. But in a police station, refreshments weren’t high on the list of priorities. She glanced at her watch and tapped her pen against the notepad. She leant forward until she could see the length of the corridor and thought about checking whether Albie was alright. He’d been in the gents for some time now and hadn’t looked that great when he disappeared inside. She’d give him five more minutes, then stroll to the door and holler.
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