Scarred for Life

Текст добавлен: 31 октября 2016, 02:54

Текст книги "Scarred for Life"

Автор книги: Kerry Wilkinson

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‘I checked the name of the solicitor Bob was in with on our sign-in sheet,’ she told them. ‘He’s a junior partner at a practice in the city centre.’ Jessica pointed at a figure in the middle row of the class photo which Garry had placed on the table. ‘Guess who owns the firm.’

It was one more person from the picture to add to the assistant chief constable Graham Pomeroy, builder Freddy Bunce, golf club owner Logan Walkden, council planning officer Declan Grainger, professor Robert ‘Call Me Bob’ Harper – and possibly Olympic medallist James Jefferies.

‘Why would Bob take the fall?’ Dave asked.

‘In many ways, he didn’t. I think he was pretty much telling the truth. Either he’d invited Damon to his house to recruit him to the Florians, or—’

Gary interrupted: ‘Where did that name come from?’

Jessica hadn’t told them about DCI Cole’s role. She cursed herself for being careless and quickly moved on. ‘I think it’s some sort of old school nickname. Anyway, either that was the reason Damon was at the house, or it was because Bob was trying it on as Archie thinks. He won’t tell us either way, so it’s almost irrelevant. I suppose he took the blame because it was his fault. If you assume there are powerful people in the group, would you rather admit to perverting the course of justice and risk a manslaughter charge, or would you rather face them? Even if he goes down for the greater charge, Bob will probably be out in three or four years. His career’s over but that would’ve happened just from us finding the drugs.’

The two men nodded before Dave replied. ‘Do you think he acted alone?’

‘I doubt it – Damon would have been heavy. Archie hammered Bob on it in the interview but he kept denying everything. There’s only so much you can do. We looked at phone records but there was nothing. He could have used a payphone or a different mobile if he called someone to ask for help.’

‘What about Holden?’ Garry asked.

‘He’s still on remand for the assault charges.’

‘I meant do you think they were trying to recruit him?’

‘No chance – he didn’t have the academic side to him, or the big money. Holden wanted to be the student president at the rowing club because it was the only thing he had in his life. He was convenient. I suspect our Olympian friend knew a little more about the hazing and initiations than he ever let on. When word came around that one of his old school friends could be in trouble, he put a call into Holden knowing that the kid looked up to him. He encouraged him to tell the police what he knew, knowing full well he’d tell us about the initiation rituals. Meanwhile, he called the other club members and asked them if they could really remember seeing Holden later in the evening when Damon died. He would have said that Holden was looking at implicating them all in the hazing and suddenly the stories started changing. It’s funny what people can and can’t remember when there’s a chance they could be dragged into something. We’ll check James’ phone records – but it won’t prove anything. He’ll say he was phoning them all to urge them to go forward with what they knew. Holden’s already told us that.’

Dave wanted to finish the thought process, so Jessica let him: ‘Holden thought he was doing the best thing by confessing to us, where really he was doing exactly what James and the rest of the Florians wanted him to. He didn’t expect the other club members to turn on him or change their stories, but when they did, it was already too late.’

‘Exactly.’

‘What about the logo?’ Garry asked.

Jessica paused for a drink. She wasn’t entirely sure. ‘I guess the tattoos are some sort of badge of honour, like a secret handshake. Perhaps they all have them, perhaps only a few. I remembered that when we went to see Freddy that he kept scratching his shoulderblade—’

‘I noticed that too,’ Dave said.

‘It was the same with Bob in his office, like a subconscious thing. Bones told us that Damon had been looking for a tattoo and I tried Bob’s collar on a whim in the interview room. It was a bit stupid really.’

Garry didn’t seem convinced. ‘If it’s such a secret – a nod and a wink, the odd phone call, don’t be seen together, that kind of thing – then why would Freddy Bunce set up a building company with that as its logo?’

Jessica puffed a breath through her teeth. ‘Who knows? We were at his house and it was this huge extravagant place, then he was wearing a T-shirt in the cold just to show that it didn’t affect him. He’s probably a bit of a show-off, but I guess the other thing is that you can hide in plain sight. If anyone questions anything, it’s an innocent builder’s logo – or an old school badge.’

Dave seemed nervous. ‘You questioned him about it.’

‘I think that’s what started the chain – he called Porky Pomeroy to complain, he told Cole to shut me down.’

‘But you got there anyway?’

‘Yes . . .’ Dave and Garry exchanged a nervy look.

‘What?’ Jessica asked, confused.

‘What do you think they’re going to do?’ Dave said.

‘About what?’

‘About you.’

Her eyes narrowed. For whatever reason, it hadn’t crossed her mind. ‘All I did was my job – they’ll be more annoyed at Call Me Bob for being careless.’ Jessica looked at the clock high on the wall. The assistants had cleared the other tables and were leaning on the counter at the front glaring at them. ‘We should go.’

Garry started packing his papers away, as Dave downed the rest of his drink. ‘There’s only one thing we don’t have a clue about,’ Garry said.

‘What?’

‘Who sent you that letter?’

Jessica shrugged. ‘I guess we’ll never know.’

ONE WEEK LATER

Jessica sat on the sofa with Adam’s arm draped around her. In comparison to all too many that had gone before, it had been a quiet week.

‘Ready to talk about it yet?’ he asked.

On the television, the adverts came on, so Jessica switched it off. Anything was better than watching some shiny-faced dick try to sell you a loan on daytime television. The mornings were the worst. ‘Our DCI is leaving at the end of the year. They announced it yesterday.’

Jessica hadn’t spoken to Cole since he’d told her, but with everyone else knowing, it now seemed real.

‘What does that mean for you?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Promotion?’

‘Definitely not.’

‘More time off?’

Jessica laughed and wedged herself further into his shoulder. She’d just watched him eat two bowls overflowing with Coco Pops – yet he was still desperately skinny. What with Bex upstairs, it meant she was the fat one of the house. ‘I’ve been thinking a lot about time off recently.’

‘What about it?’

‘What if I wanted more?’

‘I thought you said you were owed a few days. Perhaps they’ll let you take time instead of money? We could have a weekend away?’

‘I didn’t mean that – I meant taking lots of time off. Perhaps when Jack goes, I should too. It’s like the end of our era anyway – Jason left, now Jack. There’s that Pratley report due in the new year and it looks like there’ll be another reshuffle. New chief inspector, possibly a new super, and so on. It would be a good time.’

‘You know I’ll support whatever you want to do. It’s never been about the money – after my grandmother and your dad, plus the insurance money after the fire, it’s not as if we’re scraping around for pennies.’

Everything Jessica had been thinking came flooding out: ‘We can look into all we talked about . . . we couldn’t adopt while carrying on as we were. Someone like Iz can balance everything but I’m not like that. I have to be as good as I can be at one thing at a time.’

Adam kissed the top of her hair. ‘I know.’

‘And that’s still what you want – the meetings, the appointments . . . ?’

‘Jess – we were going to have a son together and I was delighted with that. I think that would have given us a bit more work than having to visit a few social workers. I’ve been waiting for you to say this the whole time; I just didn’t want to force anything. We’re going to do it together.’

‘Sure?’

‘Yes!’ He dug his fingers underneath her ribs and began tickling but Jessica bucked so violently that she ended up headbutting him in the chin.

‘Ow,’ they said together, rubbing their various injuries.

‘What about Bex?’ Adam whispered.

‘I want her to stay as long as she wants . . . if you’re okay with that.’

Adam grinned. ‘We got a big house because we wanted to fill it with people. Babies didn’t work, so if you want to start collecting people from the street, then fair enough.’

Jessica returned his smile and wrapped her arms around him again. ‘There’s something about her. I don’t know what. I just get this sense that she’s going to do something with her life. I like it.’

‘It’s nice spending a morning with you,’ Adam said. ‘Your late shift and my half-day Wednesdays work out well. Perhaps I’ll get used to it if you really are going to give your notice.’

‘I am.’

‘You don’t have to.’

‘I want to. I’m going to do it later.’

Adam fought to get his feet out from under her. ‘I still have to be at work for twelve, so if you can move your car from the drive to let mine out . . .’

He stood but Jessica pointed down at her pyjama bottoms and fluffy white boots. ‘I’m not dressed to go outside.’

‘I can’t drive your car – you have the seat too far forward.’

‘So move it back.’

‘Why can’t you do it?’

Jessica stuck out her bottom lip. ‘If you really loved me, you’d move my car first, then come back for yours.’

‘Or, I could just sit in my car, wait for you to move yours, then go to work . . .’

‘Addddddaaaaaaaaammmmmmmmmmmm . . .’

He rolled his eyes. ‘Fine. Where are your keys?’

‘I don’t know – in the kitchen somewhere. I can never find them.’

Grumble, grumble.

As Adam clattered around the kitchen shouting about all the places he hadn’t found them, Bex crept into the room. She was wearing a set of thick pyjamas and dressing gown that Jessica had insisted on giving her the money for. Bex promised to get a job, or else find another way that didn’t involve stealing to pay her back. She seemed confused. ‘What’s up with him?’

‘He’s lost some keys.’

Adam’s voice called ‘found them’ from the kitchen and then his footsteps echoed their way up the stairs.

‘You look happy,’ Bex said.

‘I think we’ve just made the decision to adopt.’

Bex grinned, reaching out and touching Jessica’s knee. ‘That’s lovely.’

‘I’m going to quit the police.’

‘Oh . . . why?’

‘I can’t do both and I don’t want to do that any more. I’ve done too much.’

‘You’re only young.’

Jessica shrugged. ‘Better to go now than wait until I’m forty or fifty.’

Bex nodded, taking a breath and turning away. ‘I’ve been thinking too. You said you wanted to help me figure out what I should do with my life. I think I want to go to college. I was always okay at school but other things kind of took over and—’

‘That’s really good. There are lots around here. I can help you go through prospectuses – unless you already know what you want to do?’

Bex shook her head but grinned. ‘I’ll get a part-time job and I can pay you rent. I don’t want to stay forever – not because of you or Adam, just because—’

‘I understand.’

Adam clumped his way back down the stairs and peered around the living-room door at Jessica, thrusting her keys in the air. ‘I hope you appreciate this.’

He was trying to stop himself laughing but Jessica played along. ‘I’m sure I’ll find a way to say thank you.’

‘There are cars parked all the way up and down the street too, so I’m going to have to go all the way to the bottom, then walk back and get my car.’

‘Wow – my hero.’

Bex dissolved into laughter, which set Jessica off. Adam was stifling a smile as he headed to the door.

‘Oi! Are you going to give me a goodbye kiss?’

‘I’ll bring your keys back in and do it then.’

The front door slammed and Jessica shifted to the edge of the sofa to watch him try to move her car seat. He had forgotten where the mechanism was, leaving Jessica to giggle as he stood with his hands on his hips, arms in the air.

‘He’s lovely,’ Bex said.

‘He really is. Just don’t get him going about the Star Wars sequels. Or cartoons from his childhood.’

Finally Adam found the lever, heaved Jessica’s chair back and climbed into the car.

‘Where did you find him?’ Bex asked.

‘On a case. I think he’s been in my head ever since, even when we weren’t together.’

The engine rumbled to life and Adam edged it towards the road, waiting for a passing car.

‘Are you really looking forward to giving up the job?’ Bex asked. ‘I thought you were the type who would end up running yourself into the ground before you’d even realised.’

Jessica leant closer to the window. ‘I probably was. I think a combination of you and Adam especially made me realise that other things are important.’

‘I suppose you only get one chance at life.’

Jessica peered at Bex and grinned. ‘Exactly – and I can’t wait.’

She turned back to the window just as Adam pulled out, turning right onto the road. For some reason the car didn’t surge ahead as Jessica would have expected, almost as if his foot had slipped off the accelerator. It came to a halt in the centre of the road outside the house next door. Jessica could only just see the top over the parked vehicles but had a perfect side view of Adam’s confused face. He looked both ways and then checked the mirror.

Jessica stood just as the explosion shredded its way out of the bonnet with a ferocious roar. She didn’t have time to speak, to breathe, before the car was engulfed by an inferno that erupted sideways, tearing through the metal and popping like a tin can in a microwave. The fire leapt to one of the parked vehicles but Jessica only had eyes for one: hers, where another boom signalled a second explosion that made the car bounce half a metre into the air before landing in a crackling, simmering shard of flames.

AFTERWORD

Um. Sorry about that ending. I had plenty of angry emails after I broke Jessica and Adam up in an earlier book, so lordy knows what this will bring.

I just want to make it clear that this ending wasn’t written without plenty of thought beforehand. You’ll have to trust me . . .

It goes without saying that the story here is fictional but I wanted to make that extra clear, simply because the University of Salford really does have a rowing team. Partly to avoid any confusion with reality but also to give the story a marginally better setting from my point of view, I have given them a made-up headquarters in the real Peel Park. It’s not there, so don’t go looking for it.

On a slightly similar note, the explanation of GMP’s structure is also a deliberate blend of truth and fiction.

Other than that, any other mistakes you didn’t notice are entirely mine, as ever. The ones you did spot were added in by a person or persons unknown. Honestly.

There are, as always, lots of people to thank, primarily: Nicola, Trisha, Natasha, Jodie, Susan, Sam, Stuart and Tom – they know why. These books don’t write themselves – I really wish they did – but it takes those people to take my meanderings and make them better.

Finally, a disclaimer: Jessica’s views on workmen, builders, plumbers, golfers and taxi drivers are all hers and definitely not mine. This is especially true if I need the services of a workman, builder, plumber, taxi driver or, erm, golfer.

COMING SOON

FOR RICHER, FOR POORER

The tenth book in the Jessica Daniel series

Three houses have been burgled in five weeks. The robbers barge in through the back, disable any way to contact the outside world, and then ransack everything – before distributing the stolen cash to local charities.

It might be robbing from the rich to give to the poor – but Detective Inspector Jessica Daniel is not a happy bunny. The new DCI has a whiteboard with far too many things on the ‘unsolved’ side and he wants the burglars found. Doesn’t he know Jessica has other things to do?

There’s a lottery winner who’s gone bankrupt, the homeless teenager Jessica’s taken in, a botched drugs raid, a trip to London with DC Archie Davey, and a man-mountain Serbian with a missing wife who’s been pimping out young women.

All the while, someone’s watching from the wings and waiting for Jessica to mess up. Officers are being pensioned off and booted out – with a certain DI Daniel firmly in sight.

COMING SOON

DOWN AMONG THE DEAD MEN

The new Manchester-set crime novel from Kerry Wilkinson

‘I’m going to do you a favour: I’m going to tell you my name and then I’m going to give you thirty seconds to turn and run. If any of you are still here after those thirty seconds, then we’re going to have a problem.’

Jason Green’s life is changed for good after he is saved from a mugging by crime boss, Harry Irwell. He is then drawn into Manchester’s notorious underworld, where smash-and-grab is as normal as making a cup of tea.

But Jason isn’t a casual thug. He has a life plan that doesn’t involve blowing his money on the usual trappings. That is until a woman walks into his life offering the one thing that money can’t buy – salvation.

SCARRED FOR LIFE

Kerry Wilkinson’s debut, Locked In, the first title in the detective Jessica Daniel series, was written as a challenge to himself and went on to become a UK Number One Kindle bestseller within three months of release.

Since then, his Jessica Daniel series has sold over three-quarters of a million copies and he became the first formerly self-published British author to have an ebook Number One and reach the top 20 of the UK paperback chart.

Scarred for Life is the ninth title in the Jessica Daniel series.

Kerry is an occasional sports journalist and can frequently be spotted cycling the hills of Lancashire while trying not to be knocked off. Please drive safely around him. He was born in Somerset but now lives in Lancashire.

For more information about Kerry and his books visit:

www.kerrywilkinson.com or

www.panmacmillan.com

Twitter: twitter.com/kerrywk

Facebook: www.facebook.com/JessicaDanielBooks

Or you can email Kerry at [email protected]

By Kerry Wilkinson

The Jessica Daniel series

LOCKED IN

VIGILANTE

THE WOMAN IN BLACK

THINK OF THE CHILDREN

PLAYING WITH FIRE

THICKER THAN WATER

BEHIND CLOSED DOORS

CROSSING THE LINE

SCARRED FOR LIFE

The Andrew Hunter series

SOMETHING WICKED

The Silver Blackthorn Trilogy

RECKONING

First published 2015 by Pan Books

This electronic edition published 2015 by Pan Books

an imprint of Pan Macmillan, a division of Macmillan Publishers Limited

Pan Macmillan, 20 New Wharf Road, London N1 9RR

Basingstoke and Oxford

Associated companies throughout the world

www.panmacmillan.com

ISBN 978-1-4472-4791-3

The right of Kerry Wilkinson to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, organizations and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, places, organizations or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Macmillan does not have any control over, or any responsibility for, any author or third party websites referred to in or on this book.

You may not copy, store, distribute, transmit, reproduce or otherwise make available this publication (or any part of it) in any form, or by any means (electronic, digital, optical, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise), without the prior written permission of the publisher. Any person who does any unauthorized act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

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