‘He’s a local, comes in a fair bit.’
‘And Brendan Crouch?’
‘Didn’t know his name, but he’s often with Rafferty.’
Brock watched one of the other barmen drawing a pint.
‘Fancy one?’ Cornford said.
‘Saw the look in my eye, did you?’
The publican smiled.
‘Yes, it’s been a long day.’ Brock unbuttoned his coat and sat heavily on a stool. ‘Have one yourself.’ He put a tenner on the bar, watching the golden liquid foam into the straight glass. ‘Has this happened before?’
‘Drink-spiking? Get it all the time, young lads slipping an extra double vodka into their girl’s mixer.’
‘What about pills?’
‘Pills are everywhere you look these days.’ He hesitated, then went on, ‘Couple of weeks ago a young woman came in, Saturday lunchtime, said her friend had been drugged and raped the night before, after coming in here. When I talked to her she was a bit confused. They’d been to at least two other pubs, then got separated. When she found her friend later she was in a bit of a mess. I told her to go to the cops if she thought something bad had happened. I don’t think she did.’
‘Two weeks ago?’
‘Maybe three now.’
‘Know their names?’
Cornford shook his head.
‘Was Rafferty in that night?’
‘Friday night, bound to have been.’
Brock thanked him, drained his pint and left. When he got in his car he put a call through to DI Bren Gurney. six
K athy drove a few blocks away from the Ealing police station before pulling in to the kerb. She got out her phone and keyed in Nicole Palmer’s number.
‘Kathy! You’ve sorted things out?’
‘’Fraid not. They’re getting worse, actually. You’re not in bed, are you?’
‘It’s only ten. Lloyd just got in.’ Her partner was also a detective, in North London.
‘I need a big favour, Nicole. I’m trying to find out about two guys who were in the army together. There’s not much on them on the PNC. I was wondering if you could access their army records, and dig up anything else.’
‘Sure. I’ll get onto it tomorrow.’
‘I was wondering if you could manage it now. We’re interviewing them first thing in the morning. It would really help if I could have something by then.’
There was a silence. ‘You want me to go into the office now?’
Kathy sighed. ‘No… I’m sorry. It was a stupid idea. Forget it.’
Another long silence. ‘What are their names?’
‘No, really, Nicole. Forget it.’
‘I’ve had a couple of drinks. You’ll have to pay for the cabs.’
•
It was a short drive to Bradshaw Street. TV screens flickered through curtained windows as Kathy made her way to flat three. It took a long while for Sheena to come to the door. She blinked at Kathy, bleary-eyed, racking her brains.
‘Kathy Kolla, Mrs Rafferty, from the police. I came about Marion, remember?’
‘Oh… oh aye. I’m…’ She looked vaguely back over her shoulder. She was wearing a dressing-gown, hair mussed, a cigarette burning in her fingers.
‘Can I have a quick word?’
‘S’pose so.’
There was an empty vodka bottle on the floor in the living room, clothes scattered, TV emitting canned laughter.
‘Can we turn that down?’
Sheena blinked, looking around for the remote. Kathy found it and handed it to her. The sound boomed louder, then dipped to a murmur.
‘How have you been?’
‘Oh, you know. How does a mother feel, eh?’
‘Yes. Can we sit down? I’m afraid I’ve got a bit more bad news. Keith’s been arrested.’
Blank incomprehension. ‘Keith what?’
‘He’s been arrested.’
‘Keith? Did he hit somebody?’
‘We think he spiked a girl’s drink, in a pub.’
Sheena’s eyes came abruptly into focus. ‘What?’
‘Him and Brendan Crouch.’
‘Jesus Christ. The stupid… Where was this?’
‘The Three Bells.’
‘Och no. Pissing on his own bloody doorstep, the stupid… Ah’ll kill that bastard.’
‘Has he done anything like this before?’
‘Is the Pope a fuckin’ Catholic? Where’d ah put ma fuckin’ drink?’
‘With Marion?’
‘What?’ Sheena’s eyes widened, the whites ringed with smeared mascara.
‘Did he try stuff with Marion?’
‘What… what are you tryin’ to say?’
‘Come on, Sheena. You know, don’t you? Marion didn’t tell you when she moved three months ago. Why was that? It was to keep Keith from finding her, wasn’t it?’
Sheena opened her mouth but nothing came out. She was taking quick shallow breaths. Suddenly she gave a little cry, and looked down at her hand, where the cigarette had burned down to her fingers. She stabbed it in an ashtray and wheeled on Kathy.
‘Git out,’ she said hoarsely.
‘I want to help you, Sheena. I want to help you do the right thing for Marion.’
‘GIT OUT!’ she screamed. ‘GIT OUT! GIT OUT!’
‘Calm down.’ Sheena was looking wildly around, as if for a weapon. ‘All right, I’m going. Just think about it, Sheena. I’ll be here when you want to talk.’
•
Brock had told her to go home and so, belatedly, she did. The place was cold and she put the heating on and made a cup of hot chocolate, then sat, waiting, trying to think.
Towards 2 a.m. her phone rang.
‘Kathy?’ It was Nicole, sounding weary. ‘Rafferty left the army six years ago. He was in the Second Battalion, Light Infantry, along with Crouch. They served together for four years, in Iraq and Northern Ireland, and on the mainland. There was one incident of interest, in Belfast. A girl accused the two of them of rape. Later she withdrew her complaint and the charges were dropped. I’ll email you the details. You’ve got the later assault and prostitution charges against Rafferty from the PNC, I take it?’
‘Yes. That’s fantastic, Nicole. I’m really grateful.’
‘Make it up to me by coming to Prague, Kathy.’
‘No chance, I’m afraid. It’s already Friday. Next time.’
‘That’s the thing though. There may not be one.’
She hung up and ran a bath, then lay down on her bed, unable to sleep.
When the green digits on her alarm clock reached 5:00 she got up and dressed and took the lift down to the ground floor to get her car.
The forecourt to the accident and emergency entrance was alive, ambulances moving steadily through, the steady pulse of trauma beating through the night. Pip was dressed, standing talking to a nurse at the counter. She gave Kathy an anxious smile.
‘Hi!’ Kathy beamed. ‘How are you?’
‘Fine. Doctor’s just told me I can go. They need the bed.’
‘Great. I’ll give you a lift home. No after-effects then?’
Pip shook her head. ‘It wears off after about eight hours, apparently. Only, I can’t remember much.’
‘Never mind.’
‘Brock was here.’
‘Really? When?’
‘He left half an hour ago. He took a statement. He was very nice about it all.’
They walked together to the front doors. ‘Oh, it’s still dark,’ Pip said. ‘I thought it was morning.’
‘Nearly. What did you tell Brock?’
‘About going into the pub. I stood near Rafferty at the bar, trying to get myself a drink, but it was packed. He was talking to another guy, and I heard him mention Marion’s name.’
‘You’re sure?’
‘Yes. I tried to get closer, and suddenly he turned around and started chatting me up. That’s when I phoned you-I told him I was waiting for a friend.’
They got into Kathy’s car and set off along Uxbridge Road.
‘Go on.’
‘They saw I didn’t have a drink and insisted on buying me one. I know, it was stupid, but what could I do?’
‘He said you spoke to him first.’
‘Yes, that’s what Brock told me, but it wasn’t like that. Rafferty pushed himself into my face, very close. He wouldn’t let me move. The other one too. It was suffocating in there, and deafening. You couldn’t hear yourself think.’
‘What happened then?’
‘I don’t know. That’s all I can remember.’