Call & Response (6 page)

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Authors: J. J. Salkeld

Tags: #Detective and Mystery Fiction, #Noir, #Novella

BOOK: Call & Response
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‘Thanks. I appreciate it.’

‘Don’t mention it. I spent ten years of my life waking up every day thinking that making sure that the bananas didn’t run out in the Daventry store, or Aberystwyth or somewhere, was a matter of life and death. I’ve taken a huge salary cut to come here, so it had better not turn out to be full of careerists and pen-pushers, or I’ll have wasted my bloody time, won’t I?’

Pepper tried to smile reassuringly, but doubted that she’d managed it. She actually quite fancied doubling her money, and only being responsible for soft fruit reaching the four corners of the kingdom.

 

 

Rex Copeland was wondering whether the Duty Inspector was racially prejudiced, because the PC who’d been assigned to him in the absence of Henry Armstrong had to be some kind of booby prize. He was pasty, plump, and he actually wheezed while he was driving. Even worse, he seemed very keen to chat.

‘I expect you got a lot of this sort of case down in London, didn’t you?’

‘I think it happens everywhere, doesn’t it? You’ve got celebrities getting their nude pictures hacked, and God knows what. It’s everywhere now, this home-made porn. Fashionable, even A bit like tattoos.’

‘I like tattoos.’

‘Good for you, mate. Bit of a rebel, are you?’

‘Oh, aye. I sometimes wonder why I joined the job, like.’

‘Why did you?’

 

The PC thought about it, and Copeland could see the beads of perspiration forming at the roots of his thinning hair. It hadn’t seemed like such a taxing question when he’d asked it.

‘Well, I liked a bundle when I was younger. You know, a bit of a punch up, like. I’m too old for that now of course, but I think it was an attraction originally. And the pension’s pretty good. Aye, there’s that too, I suppose. What about you?’

‘Honestly? This will probably sound petty, and it probably is, but I wanted to be the one doing the stop and searches, and not be on the receiving end the whole time. Of course things have changed, and it’s not black kids who everyone’s shitting themselves about now, it’s the lads with long beards and a bit of an interest in middle East affairs.’

‘Eh? Come again.’

‘Jihadis, mate.’

‘Oh, aye. We don’t get a lot of those round here, like.’ The PC paused. ‘I don’t think so, anyway. So is this Afridi bloke one, then? Is that what you’re saying?’

‘I seriously doubt it, don’t you? It’s revenge porn we’re talking about here. Think about it a minute. I’m no expert on fundamentalists, but I doubt they go in for that sort of thing.’

‘Oh aye, of course. So how do you want to play it? We still need to be careful. Just in case, like.’

‘We’ll treat Mr. Afridi just like anyone else.’

The PC looked across at him. ‘All right. If you say so, like.’

 

Copeland was relieved to see DS Wilson getting out of her car as they pulled up outside the Afridi’s house.

‘Watch yourself, son’ said the PC, as he was stopping the marked patrol car. ‘It’s the badlands round here.’

Copeland grinned, thinking that the bloke was joking. Then he realised that he wasn’t.

‘You want to see where I grew up, mate’ he said, shaking his head and reaching for the door handle.

 

‘All right, boss’ he said, as Pepper walked over.

‘I thought I’d save you from PC Parker.’

‘Thanks.’

‘He got a Commendation, when we had the big floods in Cumbria. Amazing I know, but he did.’

‘You’d never think he would have floated.’

Pepper laughed. ‘He didn’t. Not for long, anyway. Which is why he got the Commendation, I suppose. Anyway, let’s have a word with your Mr. Afridi. What’s the plan? Get him to take those pictures down? I had a look and they’re pretty strong.’

‘Yeah, although it won’t do any good. The trouble is that they’ll have been copied and shared all over the bloody web by now, so in twenty years time Ashley’s kids will probably see them. No, it’s her age when they were taken that I’m really interested in, boss. Like I said I think she may well have been under age when they were taken, and since some of them clearly show her having sex then we could be looking at a serious offence, maybe more than one.’

‘We can’t be sure who the man is though, can we?’

‘No, we can’t. But I want his laptop off him, either way.’

Pepper nodded, and ushered Copeland towards the front door. She had high hopes of Rex Copeland, and she didn’t expect to be disappointed. He made up for his lack of height with a calmly authoritative manner, and she did like that in a colleague. And in a bloke too, come to that.

 

He knocked, hard and fast, and a young man answered the door.

‘Mo Afridi?’

‘Who asking?’

Copeland showed his Warrant Card.

‘What do you want?’

‘I want to speak to Mr. Mo Afridi. Is that you?’

‘No.’

‘Is he here?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Would you go and find out for me, please?’

 

A couple of minutes went by and three men came to the door. The looked like brothers.

‘What do you want?’ said the one who looked as if he might well be the oldest.

‘Are you Mo Afridi?’

‘Aye.’

‘Can we come in?’

‘No. What’s this all about?’

‘Some images, on the internet.’

Afridi looked angry, and he turned, said something to the other two men, who also turned and walked back down the hall.

‘I never put those pictures up. They’re nothing to do with me.’

‘You didn’t take them?’

‘No.’

‘And it isn’t you, having sex with Ashley Weekes?’

‘Of course not. What do you take me for? What’s she been saying about me?’

‘Did you have a physical relationship with Ashley?’

‘Only in her head.’

‘Really? So if I talk to your neighbours, and hers, not to mention her friends, none of them will have seen the two of you together? Is that right?’

 

Afridi glanced over his shoulder, but the hall was empty. Pepper could smell cooking from somewhere inside the house. It smelt good, spicy and sharp. It made her feel hungry. Real home cooking, it smelt like.

‘You wouldn’t do all that. Not just over a few pictures. The internet’s bloody full of them, mate. And I’ve done nothing wrong. I know my rights.’

‘I’m sure you do. But I think that Ashley Weekes was underage when those pictures were taken.’

‘No way, man.’

‘But I thought you didn’t take them?’

‘I didn’t.’

‘Then how do you know how old she was? Look, there’s one easy way to settle this. You give us your laptop now, and we have a look on the hard drive.’

‘I’m not giving you my fucking computer. No way, man. That’s personal, that is.’

‘Up to you. The alternative is that I phone for a van, and have you taken down to the station. Then we get a Warrant and uplift not just your computer but every single one in this house. Who knows what we might find then, eh?’

‘You can’t do that.’

‘Is that a no, then, Mr. Afridi?’

‘Why me? You’re just picking on me. And who’s this, your bitch?’

 

Pepper smiled, showed her Warrant Card, and introduced herself. Afridi nodded, and turned back to Copeland.

‘So you’re actually her bitch then? You just do what you’re told, is that it? Just like it’s always been.’

‘I’m just doing my job, that’s all. DS Wilson is my boss. I don’t know quite what point you’re trying to make here, Mr. Afridi, but we really don’t have the time.’

‘You wouldn’t get a real Muslim man doing your job.’

‘I wouldn’t know about that, and I don’t believe that you would either. All I want to know is this. Are you willing to hand over your laptop, or not? And I should warn you that if you interfere with it before handing it over then we will know, we will recover the data, and we will come straight back and arrest you for attempting to pervert the course of justice. So come on, Mr. Afridi. Make your decision. We don’t have all day.’

‘And you’re saying that having the pictures, that’s not a crime?’

‘So long as you were both consenting adults, that’s right.’

‘Even if there were other girls?’

‘Like I say, so long as everyone was a consenting adult.’

‘All right, wait here.’

‘Don’t be long, Mr. Afridi. If you are then I’ll arrest you when you come back. And if you don’t come back, well, let’s not even go there. Because that would be a very, very bad decision on your part.’

 

Five minutes later Copeland had written out a receipt, the laptop was bagged and tagged, and Pepper was pulling away from the kerb.

‘You know we wouldn’t have got a Warrant, don’t you?’ she said.

‘Really, boss? Still, he volunteered it, didn’t he? That’s the main thing. Nothing to hide, he said. So let’s see, shall we?’

‘You didn’t like the bloke, did you?’

‘Not much. Not much at all. He’s my age, but he’s hanging around with teenage girls, and then posting pictures of them online, without their permission. He’s a shitbag, and that’s all there is to it.’

‘And a hypocrite with it.’

‘Aren’t we all? That bit doesn’t bother me, to tell you the truth. I just want to know how old that kid was when those pictures were taken.’

‘Too young’ said Pepper. ‘However old she was, it was too still far too young. And you did notice that he as good as admitted that it’s him in the photos, and not just with Ashley?’

‘Don’t worry, I noticed. Like I say, a right little shit-bag.’

 

 

Pepper was still thinking about Ashley Barnes as she drove home after work. It was marginally better than thinking about her dad. Ben ran to her as soon as she opened the door, hugged her and said that Adam was making them all spaghetti for tea. She popped her head round the kitchen door, said a quick ‘hello’, and headed upstairs to change. She felt tired, dirty and a bit down. She often felt like that, so it was no huge surprise. But she’d still have to ask Adam about his school, and listen to his endless tales of staff room tantrums. Sometimes she wanted to point out just how trivial it all was, and to man up and just shut-up, but she never did. So she went back downstairs, accepted a glass of the red that he’d brought with him with a smile, and asked Adam about his day. He’d stopped asking about hers months ago, but then she’d stopped making him food years ago.

 

After supper, a walk to the swings and back, Ben’s bath and story, Pepper hoped that Adam would go home. But he was settled on the sofa when she came downstairs.

‘I hear that you took Ben to the hospital.’

‘Only briefly. Justin held the fort.’

‘So I hear.’

She wasn’t in the mood, so she let it pass. Or rather, she intended to. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘Nothing. Just that I’m not sure it’s a good idea.’

‘Which bit? The hospital, or Justin?’

‘Either. Both, I suppose.’

‘Bollocks, Adam. Look, I appreciate you bringing Ben home from after school club, I really do. But you didn’t need to cook.’

‘We all have to eat, Pepper.’

‘I know that. What are you getting at? I don’t have time to piss about. Are you saying that I don’t care for my son properly? Is that it?’

‘No, no. Of course not. But you’re so busy at work.’

‘It’s just at the moment. Things will calm down.’

‘You’ve been saying that for months, love.’

‘Well I can look after my son, either way. I don’t need you, I don’t need Justin, I don’t need anyone.’

‘Of course you don’t. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have…’

‘Bloody right you shouldn’t have. Look, Adam, my mum walked out on me when I was a few years older than Ben is now, and I don’t blame her, not for one single, solitary second. She wanted a better life, and she was never going to get that from my dad. But Ben will always be my top priority, my only priority. I’ll leave the job, if I have to.’

‘Really? And what would you do?’

‘I don’t know. Teaching sounds like a doss. A lot of bloody bitching to do, though, and that’s just the blokes.’

They both laughed, and Adam poured her another glass of wine. ‘Shit day?’ he said.

‘You could say that. I’ve had an officer assaulted, and I’m getting no bloody support trying to get it sorted. I tell you what, Adam, if the local villains all got together and worked as a team we’d never lay a bloody finger on any of them. There’s more of them than there is of us now. And when they finally work that out we’ll all be in the shit, I tell you.’

‘Well, that’s a cheery thought. Anarchy in Carlisle.’

‘Well, you did ask. Now, you were telling me about these goings on at break time.…’

 

Pepper heard the key turn in the lock just before Adam did, and she was getting up before his anecdote died, still-born, on his lips. Justin walked into the living room and nodded at Adam, who reciprocated cautiously.

‘Can we have a word in the kitchen?’ said Pepper, before turning back towards Adam. ‘It’s work, sorry’ she added, wondering why she had.

In the kitchen Justin poured himself a glass of wine. ‘This is nice.’

‘Adam brought it.’

‘I expect it was recommended in his wine magazine.’

‘Shut up, Justin. You didn’t have to come round. Email would have been fine.’

‘Maybe I wanted to see you.’

‘Listen, it’s a favour I’m after.’

‘What time does he need collecting?’

‘No, it’s not Ben. How much are you working at the moment, on the photography job?’

‘It keeps me busy’ said Justin defensively. ‘Why do you ask?’

‘I’m after a favour, like I said. Have you got a way of taking pictures from a distance, so the target couldn’t see you?’

‘Aye. A telephoto lens. I’ve got a 300mm and a doubler that I use when the local paper sends me to cover the footie. It’ll pick out a pimple at five hundred yards, like. So, who’s the target?’

‘Gary Flynn. He’s the bastard who assaulted my colleague, or at least he’s the one who had it done. Either way, he’s responsible.’

‘But aren’t you all over him like a rash already? I thought you lot usually close ranks pretty quick when one of your own gets battered.’

‘We used to, but not any more, it seems. The bosses don’t give a shit about us these days.’

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