Without Janet available as acting sergeant, Her Maj asked for a volunteer to allocate actions and Lee volunteered. Rachel didn’t. She didn’t want to be coordinating other people, she wanted to be back out there, finding the dirt on Neil and Noel Perry that would see them looking at life in prison.
‘As we did with Kavanagh,’ the boss said, ‘talk to local organizations and residents, churches, charities, whatever. Do any of them recall a young, black couple? Of course this will be bad for public confidence and for our crime stats. The Chief Con and the reducing crime bods can worry about the statistics, we can’t do anything about that. But what we can do, in terms of community morale and public relations, is put every ounce of energy into finding out who killed these people and bringing them to trial. Any questions?’
The room was quiet.
‘Before you go, I need to make you aware that Janet Scott is taking some personal time. As most of you will know by now, the teenager Olivia Canning was a close friend of Janet’s daughter. For the purposes of that investigation, Janet is a civilian. Should you acquire any information on that inquiry from our colleagues on division, those details shall remain confidential from Janet.’ The boss swivelled her head this way and that, checking they’d taken in what she was saying. ‘Regarding our friends in the fourth estate…’
Godzilla’s phone rang, she broke off and held up a hand for quiet.
‘You’re sure,’ she said, ‘both of them?’
Rachel could see light gleam in her eyes. Godzilla palmed her phone. ‘Analysis on the bullets shows the same weapon used in all three murders. We’ve got a series. Now let’s see what you can bring me. Quick as you like.’
The warehouse stood between the main road, Shuttling Way, and the canal. Derby Fold Lane bordered the plot to the west, leading from the dual carriageway and over the canal bridge. Where the lane descended from the bridge was the spot that the fire investigation officers had identified as the point of entry. The boards there had rotted away at the base and someone had smashed a hole big as a doorway to gain access to the site. So anyone going to the building would have to go along Derby Fold Lane. To the east was a small terraced row, Pocklington Street. Any view those houses might once have had across the yard to the building had since been blocked by high sheet fencing, so only the upper floors were visible. Rachel turned the map around and checked. The land at the far side of Derby Fold Lane was unoccupied scrubland. Which left Manton Street over the canal as the nearest houses likely to have seen any comings and goings. Manton Street, where Greg Tandy lived with his wife and son.
Rachel began there.
Connor answered the door, rolling his eyes when he saw who it was.
‘Your dad back?’ Rachel said.
‘No.’
‘You seen him since yesterday?’
‘No.’
‘What about your mum, she in?’
‘Work,’ he sniffed.
‘The bodies of two people were recovered from the fire at the warehouse,’ Rachel said, ‘a man and woman, we’re trying to identify them. Early twenties, both black.’
‘Dunno,’ he shrugged.
‘Not seen anyone like that about?’ Rachel said.
‘They all look the same to me, niggers,’ he said. Trying to wind her up?
‘What about the warehouse, people coming and going there, you notice that?’
He pulled a face, shook his head. She didn’t believe him.
‘I’ve got to go,’ he said.
‘Where?’ Rachel said.
‘School.’
‘You’re late, aren’t you?’
He didn’t answer, rubbed his nose.
‘Word has it the warehouse was used for drug-dealing. You know anything about that?’ Rachel said.
‘No.’ Something altered in his eyes.
‘You’ve not been there, buying stuff?’
‘No,’ he scowled.
‘So, if we were to arrange a drugs test, you’d be clear?’
‘You can’t do that without permission, I’m only fourteen,’ he said. ‘Need an appropriate adult with me, too.’
‘Been reading up on your rights, have you?’ she said. ‘Look, I just don’t think you’ve been very honest with me, and that makes me think you might have something to hide. Maybe you do know where your dad is but you’re not saying, maybe you know something about the drug deals but you’re too scared to say.’
‘I’m not scared,’ he sneered.
‘But you are concealing something and that would warrant us cautioning you and holding you for formal questioning. Your mum could be the appropriate adult if you wish.’
He set his jaw, the edges of his lips whitened with tension. ‘I don’t know where he is,’ he said, ‘I swear.’
Rachel didn’t respond, she wanted more.
He cleared his throat. ‘But I seen them about, the blacks.’
‘You know their names?’
He shook his head.
‘Come on, Connor.’
‘It’s the fucking truth!’ His face flushed red. ‘Look, there’s this girl, Shirelle, she used to hang with the bloke. Talk to her.’
‘Shirelle who?’
He shook his head.
‘Where will I find her?’
‘She lives in Hawkins,’ he said.
The high-rise, Hawkins Tower. Over a hundred flats. ‘That really narrows it down,’ Rachel said.
‘That’s all I can tell you.’
‘What’s she look like, this Shirelle?’
‘Half-caste,’ he said.
‘How old?’
‘Twenty?’ he said uncertainly. ‘I didn’t tell you, and I’m no grass.’ For a moment he sounded very young, scared. He bit his lip. How many times had he answered the door to the police already? His father not out five minutes and already looking at a recall. Return to jail, do not pass go.
‘You ever done any boxing?’ Rachel said.
‘What?’ He was thrown by the change of topic.
‘Boxing. The gym in town. They do boxing, self-defence.’
‘I can look after myself.’ He bristled, probably thought she was calling him a weed.
‘Not saying you can’t. Bet you’d be a good bantamweight with the right training.’
‘What’s this? Olympics crap?’
The country was awash with promotional stuff for the London Olympics. ‘No,’ Rachel said. ‘You should give it a go. There’s five-a-side too, table football. What else you going to do? Hang around here and end up getting into trouble?’
‘You a social worker?’ he said scornfully.
‘Try it,’ Rachel said.
‘Fuck off.’
‘I dare you.’
He looked askance.
‘Bring the bike, we’re building a stunt circuit. You can do stunts, can’t you?’
He glared at her.
‘Open three till ten every day. Doesn’t have to be like this,’ she said. Cursing herself as the words left her mouth, sounding all touchy-feely like Alison. He looked at her, raised eyebrows, a hint of humour in his eyes. Why did she bother? She’d tried this sort of thing with Dom and that had worked out really well, hadn’t it?
17
Janet sat with Elise and two detectives from division in the soft interview room at Middleton police station.
DC Goodman was doing most of the questioning. Young – well, young in Janet’s eyes – and mild-mannered with a slight stutter, he had explained to Elise her rights, why she was there and that she was free to leave at any time.
His colleague, DC Khan, spoke to introduce herself, then kept notes and listened intently to Elise’s answers.
So far Elise herself had been subdued, cooperative. No tears today, though she sometimes came close. There were tissues on the table, water and glasses.
‘Then we went to get a drink in the kitchen,’ Elise said.
‘What did you have?’
‘Cider,’ she said.
‘And Olivia?’
‘Same.’
‘And then?’
‘We talked to some people there and then went in the living room. Someone was playing music, on decks,’ she said. ‘We got another drink, more people came and then this girl was going round, talking to people and selling things, drugs.’ Her voice wavered. ‘Olivia said we should try some, to have a laugh. The girl stopped by us and she said, “What are you after?” Olivia said, “Something for the party,” and the girl held up some pills with smileys on. “Es,” she said. I said, “No, it’s all right.” I didn’t want to get them but then she said, “How about some Paradise?” We didn’t know what she meant. Then she showed us these tablets, said it was legal, there was no law against taking it or buying or selling it. And that it would put a smile on our faces like E. I thought maybe she was making it up, but she said check it online if you want to, everyone’s selling it, you go into Headspace in town and you can get it there. It just sounded better. So we said yes.’