‘When it’s actually a value party pack of quarter pounders or sausages from the farm shop,’ Janet said.
Rachel pulled a face.
‘A shop, attached to a farm,’ Janet spelled out.
‘I know! Behave.’
‘We questioned Tandy about his movements on the Friday night,’ Gill said. ‘He told us nothing. Now we find he has an alibi? Strong?’ She looked at Janet.
‘An independent witness.’
‘So why didn’t he give us it?’ Gill said.
‘He’s frightened? Protecting someone?’ said Rachel.
Gill sighed. They had seemed to be getting closer but first they’d eliminated Noel Perry and now Tandy was in the clear. It felt like they were back at square one. ‘Charge Tandy with the firearms offences and ship him back to prison.’
The search at Marcus Williams’s house revealed nothing. No Keane, no gun, no drugs.
‘Teflon as per usual,’ said Mitch as Kevin handed out the sandwich orders. Not only did Williams keep well away from the merchandise and the illicit activities of his network, he also drove within the speed limit, paid his council tax on time and had obviously found a way to launder his money.
‘Think about it from Marcus Williams’s point of view,’ said Gill. ‘Suppose he wants to get rid of Victor and Lydia, motive unknown for now. How might that play out?’
‘Well, Williams won’t be anywhere near,’ said Mitch.
‘So he finds someone to do the deed,’ Lee said.
‘Stanley Keane,’ Rachel said, taking the baguette Kevin passed her. ‘Keane gets the gun off Tandy-’
‘Who must have got it back from the Perry brothers after the Kavanagh shooting,’ Gill said, ‘some time between Wednesday and Friday evening.’
‘Keane borrows or steals the gloves too,’ said Janet. ‘He gets lighter fuel and goes to the warehouse, shoots Victor and Lydia, torches the place. Then joins Greg Tandy for a couple of pints in his local.’
‘An attempt at an alibi?’ Gill said.
‘Keane gets rid of the gun,’ said Janet, ‘why keep the gloves? Why not dump them?’
‘Unless he’s trying to frame Tandy,’ Mitch said.
‘Boss,’ Pete had answered his phone and now interrupted. ‘We’ve found something on CCTV for Monday night. Shirelle Young and Stanley Keane.’
‘I want it here, now,’ Gill said.
The CCTV, in grainy black and white, was from the cameras at the green man crossing near the shopping parade. Shirelle, in her white jacket, could be seen walking briskly. Then she stops in her tracks. Gill peered, holding her breath. A man approaches, grabs her wrists and kicks her legs from under her. He picks her up and at that moment his bearded face is clearly visible, livid with anger.
‘Stanley Keane,’ said Mitch.
‘What’s he so mad about?’ Gill said.
‘She led us to his house earlier, we found Tandy, we found the drugs,’ Rachel said.
‘This is five past eight,’ Janet said.
‘And Shirelle was found fifteen minutes later,’ said Rachel.
‘So,’ Gill said, ‘he beats up Shirelle and then he targets the Tandy house. He’d know we are holding Tandy so either that is a warning to Tandy to keep quiet or a warning to the family.’
‘It could’ve been a lot more than a warning,’ Rachel said. ‘The curtains were closed, they could both have been in the line of fire.’
‘Reckless,’ Lee agreed.
‘Someone must be sheltering him, someone must know where he is. Lee, Mitch, dig out family, old connections. We can assume he is still armed,’ Gill said. ‘I’ll discuss it with the chief superintendent. Much of what we have is circumstantial but erring on the side of caution, as far as public safety is concerned, I think we should be plastering his pretty little face all over the shop.’
‘What’s she like, the wife, Gloria?’ Janet said. ‘Reckon she knows any more than she’s saying?’ She examined her teeth in the washroom mirror, checking there were no stray bits of food stuck in them.
Rachel shrugged. ‘Don’t know. I think she’s had enough of him – the way she tells it. Glad to be shot. Ha ha!’
‘Funny,’ Janet said.
‘Well, she probably does better on her own. Tandy comes home and all hell’s let loose. Tossers, the lot of ’em.’ Rachel sounded angry.
‘You all right?’
‘Fine,’ Rachel said crossly, ‘pig in shit.’ She did that, hackles up like a dog at the slightest excuse. Particularly when she thought people were criticizing her or asking about personal stuff.
‘Bite my head off,’ Janet said.
‘I wasn’t. God, you’re so touchy.’
Janet gave her a look.
‘I. Was. Not.’
‘You sound like our Taisie.’
Rachel brushed her hair, didn’t speak.
‘Sean all right then?’ Janet said.
‘Will you leave it? Sean is fine. I am fine. My mad frigging mother is fine. We are all fucking dandy. Why do you have to be so nebby, sticking your nose in all the time?’
Janet was stung, her chest tightened. Normally she’d have tried to defuse the situation, joke about it or back off, but she’d run out of patience.
‘You need to grow up,’ she said coldly, ‘and get a fucking grip. I’ll be upstairs.’
But halfway there her phone went. Mum calling.
‘Hello?’ she said.
‘I know you must be busy,’ Dorothy said, ‘but you did say to ring…’
‘Yes?’
‘Well, Elise is in a right state. Up in her room, crying her eyes out. I asked her if she’d like me to get you.’
‘OK,’ Janet said, ‘tell her I’m on my way.’
She went quickly to the office and signed out. Told Lee she had to get home, personal business, and asked him to let Rachel know she’d have to go and talk to the Tandys on her own. Janet would check in with her later if she could.
Elise was still crying when Janet got home, lying on her bed, face red, nose and lips puffy from it all.
Dorothy made herself scarce and Janet sat down next to Elise. ‘Hey.’ She ran her hand over Elise’s head. ‘What’s to do?’
‘Holly messaged me. There’s going to be a service for Olivia, like a celebration of her life, and people are doing things, cards and poems and music and stuff,’ she gulped, ‘and I can’t go.’
‘Says who?’
‘Vivien. She said I’m not welcome. She said that to them, Mum. Olivia was my best friend, for ever, I loved her so much and I’m not even allowed-’ She couldn’t continue, she was sobbing so hard.
Janet sighed and stroked her back. ‘That’s not fair,’ she said, ‘it’s mean and it’s hurtful but that’s because Vivien is hurt and she’s looking for someone to blame and she’s picked on you. But listen to me, she’s wrong. This was not your fault, you are just being made into the scapegoat.’
‘Holly said some of them, they don’t think it’s fair and if I can’t go then they won’t either. Like a boycott,’ Elise said.
Janet sighed. ‘I don’t think that’s the answer. It’s good to know that they would do that to support you, that they understand, but then the service would become about you and who’s there and who’s not and who’s right and wrong and all the ins and outs of Olivia’s death and that wouldn’t be right, would it?’
‘No,’ Elise agreed.
‘We’ll just have to have our own private thing. I’m sure Taisie would like to do something, she’s really upset too, and your dad and I would.’
‘What like?’ Elise blew her nose.
‘Well, we can make cards, read poems, and take flowers to the cemetery once they’ve had the funeral. We could plant a tree.’
Elise pulled a face at the last suggestion.
‘You think about it,’ Janet said, ‘think what you’d like to do.’
‘OK.’
‘Have you had anything to eat today?’
She shook her head.
‘You need to have something. Soup?’
Elise shrugged.
‘Soup it is then, chicken or tomato?’
‘Tomato.’
It was vindictive of Vivien, Janet thought, demonizing Elise; perhaps in the future she would come round and see that it was unjust. The ostracism pained Janet but she took heart from the fact that some of the girls’ friends were mature enough to support Elise and want to include her.