Crossing the Line (Kerry Wilkinson) (31 page)

‘Exactly – anyway, I’ve been hearing rumours . . .’

‘What rumours?’

‘Hambleton.’

Jessica puffed out a sigh. ‘The GMP’s got more leaks in it than the
Titanic
. How we’ve kept it out of the press, I’ll never know. What have you heard?’

‘DSI Hambleton fitted up Rawlinson as the Slasher and now Rawlinson’s old cellmate has

kidnapped his grandkids.’

‘We are so totally, unbelievably screwed. When the media find out the reason Overton went after

the children, everything’s going to kick off like you’ve never seen before.’

‘Any leads?’

‘All sorts of sightings but you know what it’s like when you get someone’s picture on the news –

for every thousand phone calls, you’re lucky if you get one with anything useful. For everyone’s sake I

hope they’re still alive. I’d rather be working but the DCI’s banned me from the building on my day

off and we had tickets for this. I’ve barely seen Adam all week.’

‘You look tired.’

‘Don’t you start.’

Esther nodded over Jessica’s shoulder towards the giraffe disappearing into the distance. ‘Is the

Slasher case going to be reopened?’

‘Only after we get the kids back.’

‘What if—?’

‘Don’t even think it. You can’t just make two children disappear. Overton will be hiding out

somewhere and will pop up at some point. His face is everywhere – someone’s got to spot him.’

‘What about the person who threw acid at Luke Callaghan?’

‘Are you listing everything we’ve not solved?’

Esther laughed. ‘I’m looking for work – if I can get you sacked, that leaves a place open.’

‘It’s gone ridiculously quiet. We’ve all been distracted by the kids and so have the media. Perhaps

if we leave it long enough, it’ll go away. It’s just so odd – three unconnected shites. The dodgy

councillor’s blind, the shifty landlord’s recovering after a beating and our resident Lothario’s

hopefully keeping it in his pants.’

Esther was keeping a watchful eye on the gates as someone entered carrying an inflated giant

banana. There was probably some sort of Internet competition over who could get the most ridiculous

item into the arena. ‘This is what bothered me at the time. If the attacker wanted to hurt Callaghan,

they could’ve done anything in those few seconds – stuck a knife in his guts, sidled up behind and slit

his throat, stabbed him in the kidneys. It’s not as if it would have been the first time. If anything,

slotting in behind someone in a crowd, doing that, then running, would get you less attention and

you’d be away quicker. The acid attack was surely harder to pull off – definitely more reckless.’

‘We’ve gone through it all, especially because of the choice of victims. It’s always felt like our

hoody was trying to humiliate rather than murder. Usually, attacks would escalate in their seriousness

but this went the other way – he started by blinding someone and ended by injecting a guy with

something harmless and giving him a scare. It doesn’t fit any pattern of anything we’ve ever had.’

Esther glanced back to the gates, perhaps regretting that there wasn’t a metal detector after all.

Jessica watched as a complete mix of people continued to enter. There were middle-aged couples

holding hands, often completely unprepared for the mounds of mud they were walking into, as well as

the ones who were clearly looking to rekindle the festivals from their youth with brand-new wellies

and light, floaty hippy clothing. If the weather turned, it’d be like someone spilling water over a

watercolour, with pastel shades running everywhere. There were teenagers attending their first

festival, skipping happily into the arena alongside Goth kids acting like they weren’t interested, even

though they’d gone to the expense and effort of getting tickets. Perhaps the strangest group was the

twenty- and thirty-something couples with prams. Jessica saw a mother shoving her wheeled

monstrosity over a muddy hump and then stopping to berate one of the security guards, presumably for

not making a sodden public park friendly enough for pushchairs. That was one end of the age scale but

then there were handfuls of older people too, some with the stereotypical array of heavy clothing and

blankets but others walking with a spring in their step and wry grins, as if they’d gatecrashed

somewhere they weren’t entirely convinced they should be. Blacks, Asians and whites mixed,

laughed, danced and sang their way into the arena. If nothing else, ParkFest had brought the

community together in a way few gatherings in British cities could.

Even if it was just so they could complain about the weather.

Esther and Jessica continued to watch the crowds mill past. So many faces, but neither of the pair

Jessica was looking for. Tony had disappeared off into the Manchester night and she hadn’t seen him

since; William Overton could be anywhere.

Jessica checked the time on her phone. ‘I should get going.’

Esther’s hand was to her ear again and she half-turned around. ‘Well, what do you think you should

do with it? We’re hardly going to roll it up and smoke it between us, are we? Nick him.’ She turned to

Jessica. ‘Sorry.’

Jessica gave her a cheery wave and headed off into the crowds. The atmosphere felt like a party;

weeks of frozen ground and unseasonal snow flurries replaced by a return to normality. It was

probably a bit much to expect the sun to come out for the occasion but it was still an improvement.

The smell of various festival foods drifted on the air, mixing to create a heady if slightly toxic blend of popcorn, candy floss, beef burgers, chips and beer.

The ground was already becoming squishy from the sheer weight of people. Off to the side, a

teenage girl was abandoning an ill-chosen pair of canvas trainers into the hedge and beginning to slop

bare-footed through the thicker parts of mud towards her cheering friends.

Oh to be young and stupid again – or at least be able to blame stupid decisions on the naivety of

being young.

When Jessica snapped out of her envious haze, she turned to head towards the Ferris wheel,

bumping into something solid. She started to apologise before stumbling backwards in surprise.

Staring directly at her was someone in a dark blue hoody and white mask with a red letter A for

anarchy etched onto the front.

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Jessica was so surprised that she took another step backwards, tripping over her foot and landing

with a splat in the mud. The person in the hoody reached up and pulled the mask down, exposing the

face of a sheepish teenager, even younger than the bare-footed girl. He could only have been fifteen at

the most, thin-faced, wide-eyed. ‘Sorry, er, lady,’ he said, offering his hand to help her up.

Jessica’s eyes were drawn to a stall between the popcorn stand and a place selling gourmet boar

burgers. Across the front were rows of hats and masks – including a large pile of the anarchy ones.

As Jessica felt the sodden and sodding mud seeping through her clothes, she tried to think if there was

something she could arrest him for.

Assaulting a police officer? No, he hadn’t touched her and it would be quite harsh.

Disrespecting his elders? Definitely a possibility, if only it was a criminal offence.

Being a bit too young? Probably should be an offence, especially as she was rapidly getting older.

Kids these days.

Wearing a stupid mask? Bollocks, that wasn’t an offence either.

Jessica took his hand and allowed him to help her up, making sure her filthy hands got as much of

the mud as possible on his sleeve.

In fairness, not that Jessica was feeling particularly charitable, he did seem genuinely apologetic.

‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.’

‘It’s fine.’

Jessica marched past him towards the hat and mask stall. The seller was wearing a soft jester-style

hat, with alternating fluorescent colours and bells hanging from the pointed parts. ‘What can I do for

you, love?’ he asked, full local twang in evidence.

Jessica pointed to the stack of anarchy masks. ‘Why are you selling these?’

His grin slipped slightly. ‘What’s it to you?’

‘You do realise these are associated with someone who’s been carrying out very serious public

attacks?’

The seller picked up one of the masks, holding it in front of his face. ‘Just a bit of fun, innit? You

from the council or summit?’

‘Police.’

‘There ain’t nuffin’ wrong with sellin’ a few masks, is there? I’ve got all the receipts, paid all the

tax. What is it with you lot pickin’ on the honest man, eh? Got three points for doing thirty-five in a

thirty the other week. Why don’t you catch some real crooks?’

Jessica tried to think of something either witty or withering to fire back but she had nothing. He

wasn’t doing anything wrong – living in a free country allowed people to sell whatever shite they

wanted, no matter how tacky and distasteful. She glanced up at the sign above the stall and made some

vague threat about checking his paperwork when she got back to the station. She had no intention of

doing so but his incredulous jibe that he had ‘nuffin’ to hide, darlin’,’ didn’t improve her mood.

It wasn’t a long walk to the Ferris wheel but Jessica could now see masks and hoods everywhere.

The entire place was a nightmare from a security and policing point of view.

Adam was chatting to his sister, a large smile on his face which morphed into confusion when he

saw Jessica. ‘What happened to you?’

Jessica spun to show him. ‘Slipped in the mud.’

‘Your whole backside is covered in it.’

‘Thanks – I hadn’t noticed the fact my clothes are stuck to me, nor the people pointing and

laughing.’

Adam wasn’t pointing but he was clearly trying to stop himself from joining those who found it

hilarious. Georgia was still clinging onto Humphrey, her bright hair covered by a blue bonnet that

matched her wellies. Humphrey was doing the odd thing with his watch again – eyes flicking down to

it, then back up in a flash as if it hadn’t happened. Georgia said they were going for a wander and set

off into the crowds, Humphrey’s pink blazer making him look like a giant stick of candy floss.

‘What does he look like?’ Jessica said to Adam as they watched them go.

‘At least he’s not covered in mud.’

Jessica scraped some mud from the back of her jeans and then wiped it on Adam’s nose as he leant

in to give her a peck. ‘That’ll teach you for laughing.’

They spent the rest of the afternoon exploring the different corners of the field. Teenagers sprinted

past at various points determined to get to the front, while families had reserved their part of England by arranging blankets on the ground far away from the main stage and then scowled at anyone who

walked a little too close. Jessica wasn’t too fussed about any of the bands but followed Adam

wherever he wanted to go. They rode the Ferris wheel, ate a crocodile burger – which tasted

suspiciously like chicken, walked, chatted and laughed. As they sat on the stools underneath an area

roped off for food stalls, they watched strangers from afar, making up stories about the types of wild

secret lives they were leading. As the afternoon went on, their made-up biographies got more and

more outlandish until Jessica’s ribs were hurting from laughter. It was like the old days of when they

first got together.

Adam worked at the university, mainly doing scientific research but also with limited teaching. As

they strolled towards the main stage, he was spotted by one of his former students, a lad with skinny

jeans and too much chest hair who clearly fancied himself. He told Adam he’d got himself a job with

a lab somewhere around Lytham and then asked Jessica if she had any other ‘fit mates who fancied

science geeks’. She sent him packing by saying that if he knew any fit science geeks then he should get

in contact and she’d see what she could do. He gave her a wink anyway before scurrying back to his

friends. Adam laughed it off and for the first time in a long while, they felt like a proper couple again.

They were actually out – together – not stuck at work, not sharing a house with Georgia, not struggling

to deal with the death and trauma which had defined their lives over the past couple of years.

As it became late afternoon, the grey swirling clouds began to lift, revealing hints of blue that

gradually took control of the rest of the sky. A cheer went up from the crowd as gentle hints of sunlight crept over the tops of the trees, offering natural warmth the city hadn’t enjoyed since their week of

summer the previous year. Jessica took off her jacket, putting it on the ground not far from the Ferris

wheel so they could rest their tired legs. Adam put an arm around her and she rested her head on his

shoulder. Jessica tried to remember the feelings from the restaurant, the hate that went hand in hand

with the love, but it wasn’t there. Everything going on at work would still be there tomorrow but for

now, for today, this was the happiest she’d been in a long time.

Modern music was still shite though. This was the city of the Stone Roses, Oasis, the Chemical

Brothers, the Smiths, New Order, the Charlatans. Now, the best they could come up with was some

fresh-faced tit straight from Saturday-night singing competitions.

On the other side of Adam, Georgia was standing with Humphrey, eating ice cream from a tub. Her

hat had gone into her bag, as had her jacket, and her bare fake-tanned shoulders looked a golden