The door opened to the side ward. Stacey halted and Dawson raised his head with hopeful expectation. They’d been waiting over four hours.
The nurse nodded. ‘You can see him now. He’s weak and fragile but alive. I can’t let you stay for very long.’
Stacey nodded her agreement as Dawson lifted himself from the chair.
‘Bloody hell, Charlie, you had us for a minute there,’ Dawson said as they entered the room.
Stacey was surprised by his appearance. Although grossly overweight, that was what had probably saved him. Death by aspirin was normally dictated by an ingredient to body weight ratio. And he carried a lot of weight.
His complexion bore no correlation to his heartbeat. Not a smudge of colour graced his face. But he was younger than Stacey had thought initially. Now, she put his age at mid- to late thirties.
‘What’s going on, Charlie?’ Dawson asked, taking the seat beside the bed. Stacey perched herself on the windowsill.
‘I’ve just had enough.’
‘Is there something you want to tell us, mate?’ Kev asked.
‘I don’t know what you mean.’
‘Come on, Charlie. There’s something going on here. There’s a reason you wanted to die. Just tell us and we can help you. It’ll feel better once you let it out.’
Stacey watched as he swallowed and shook his head.
‘Charlie, we know it was you, mate. You were in the basement with those girls, weren’t you? You watched while their father …’
‘No,’ he said, closing his eyes. ‘It wasn’t me. I swear it.’
Dawson moved closer and lowered his voice. ‘Oh Charlie, stop lying, eh? We know the book club’s a cover. You don’t even read the books.’
Finally a smudge of colour infused the bleached skin. ‘I don’t always have time …’
‘You’re hardly run off your feet at the shop. Charlie, trust me, you’ll feel better if you just admit it. We know you went to the youth club at the community centre the other night. It was the only event taking place. Why would you be with a group of twelve-year-old girls if you …’
‘I wasn’t at the youth club,’ he said, closing his eyes.
‘Charlie, we checked. There was nothing else …’
‘There are some events that don’t get advertised.’
Stacey got there first.
‘Alcoholics Anonymous,’ she said to herself.
Dawson turned back to Charlie. ‘You’re an alcoholic?’
There was the longest pause as a tear fell from the corner of his eye. He gently shook his head.
Dawson looked to her and she shrugged.
‘I tell them I am,’ he admitted.
Stacey moved closer. ‘Because they never turn anyone away.’
‘You go to AA meetings for company?’ Dawson asked incredulously.
Charlie offered a slight nod, filled with shame.
‘And the book club? The same? You just get to meet a few guys once a week for a chat?’
‘They come from all over the place, every profession. They’ve all got something to say. I just listen, mostly.’
Dawson deflated back into the chair. He’d really hoped they had him, but what they really had was a desperately shy and lonely man who had grabbed at any opportunity to make friends.
‘Why this, why now?’ Stacey found herself asking.
He shrugged. ‘The book club was bound to break up once you started asking them questions. It ain’t much but it’s a bit of company now and again.’
‘You need to get yourself a woman, mate,’ Dawson said, getting to his feet.
Charlie smiled, but it looked despairing. ‘Looking like this, eh?’
Stacey had reached the door. Their work here was done. Charlie Cook was not their man.
Dawson lagged behind. ‘Do you know Fitness Gym in Dudley?’
Charlie shook his head.
‘Just up the road from the indoor market. I’m there most Monday and Wednesday nights. Pop in and we’ll get something sorted.’
Stacey stepped outside and Dawson followed.
She turned to look at him and shook her head.
‘Why are you smiling at me, Stace?’
‘No reason, Kev. No reason at all.’
He shrugged and reached into his pocket.
‘Have you checked your phone?’
Stacey took it out and checked it, then frowned.
‘Anything from the boss?’
She shook her head.
Their eyes met and a message passed between them. It had been hours since they’d heard from the Guv. And that never, ever happened.
Without speaking, they turned and headed for the station.
SIXTY-SIX
Alex smiled cheerfully at Dougie. He had not been difficult to find. David had told her about the simpleton’s walks many times. A creature of habit, he never varied his route.
The Delph Locks were a flight of eight locks linking the Dudley and Stourbridge canal route. Each lock was seventy feet long and eighty-five feet deep. Such a fitting place for Dougie to die, with the hours that he had spent here.
At first the phone call had stunned her, not least because she had no idea that Malcolm had her number. But now she was glad that he had. She’d had seven missed calls during her session with Jessica and out of curiosity had called the number back.
Initially she had not believed him. No way could such a bumbling oaf like Dougie be so clever, but as Malcolm had talked, she had listened.
The initial burst of anger had been at herself. She had foolishly written Dougie off, assuming his attention was because he had liked her. The rage had dulled to a mild irritation once she’d realised Dougie was a problem that was easily solved.
His initial surprise at seeing her had been quelled by her assurances that Kim wanted to talk to him. It was what kept him standing here now.
Alex was pleased to see him look furtively to the right and then to the left.
‘Oh, Dougie, did you believe me?’
She shone the torch in his face. A couple of spots of sleet dropped between them. He blinked and put his hand in front of his eyes.
She smiled. ‘You ridiculous, stupid man. Your life is about to change. There’s no need to be frightened. For the first time ever, you get the opportunity to be useful. You are pointless and worthless, but you are my way of sending a message to your precious Kim.’
She spat the name at him and shook her head.
‘And here was me thinking you were totally gormless, and you go and surprise me, Dougie. I don’t like surprises.’
She moved a step closer. Shining the torch between them. As the torch beam lowered down his body, she laughed out loud.
She held the shot of light on his groin. ‘Oh, Dougie, you’ve wet yourself. How humiliating is that?’
She delighted in his discomfort and revelled in his fear.
‘It would have been so much better if you’d been illiterate as well as retarded.’
She shone the light into his face again. His head was slightly tipped and his eyes reached up and to the left. His mouth moved as though trying to form a word but, to Alex’s knowledge, he’d never spoken.
His hands moved furtively as though he were trying to wring them out.
She took Dougie by the arm to move him closer to the edge.
He offered little resistance as she felt the trembling vibrate from his body to her hand.
Physically, he could overpower her any second he chose to, but just like a German Shepherd, he didn’t know he was bigger and stronger. In Dougie’s mind she was tougher and so he didn’t bother to put up a fight.
His feet scraped across the gravel as he tried to plant them where he stood. It was no more taxing to Alex than handling a bin bag.
‘Oh, come on Dougie, don’t be difficult,’ she said, lurching him forward to the lock-side edge.
She shone the torch light down into the abyss. A small cry escaped from his lips. Alex estimated the drop to be thirty feet before the water lapped at the walls.