Echoes of Justice (DI Matt Turrell Book 2) (15 page)

Chapter 48

Just before six o’clock Grant was ready and waiting. Glancing towards Matt’s office, he was relieved to see him standing, getting ready to leave, and then dismayed to see McRay approaching. He went into the office and both men sat down.

Moving closer to Matt’s office, Grant tried to catch his eye, without any luck. He couldn’t hang about forever, had to get to the Golden Acorn by seven to meet the red-headed woman.

By six twenty, his impatience rising, Grant was ready to walk. It had been a slim chance anyway, but he still might just have made it if they’d left on time. Frustration building he paced up and down, an eye on the clock. Finally, McRay left and Matt strode towards him.

‘Sorry about that. Couldn’t ignore the boss.’

‘I know that feeling.’ The words shot out before he could stop them.

Matt shot him a glance but didn’t say anything and Grant realised he would have to calm down or Matt would get suspicious. It was almost as if this was some kind of test and, if it had been anyone else, he would tell them where to go, but Matt had stuck up for him, saved his job, so he had a right.

Leamington was their first port of call. Mike’s Gym had been in business for over thirty years and, according to a tattered notice, seemed to offer more in the defensive arts than the usual workout. Situated above a shop at the bottom of the Parade, the entrance was through a grubby side door. The stairs were narrow and uncarpeted, designed to discourage the customary gym trade. Reaching the top, they were faced with a wide expanse that encompassed a boxing ring on one side, while the rest of the space was filled with several pairs of white-suited men, all engaged in attacking each other.

None of the men took any notice of their arrival. Although Grant was certain they were aware, no one came forward to greet them. Unable to stand any delay, he stepped forward to grasp the arm of one of the young men. ‘The boss?’

With a glare, the man shook his arm free and nodded to a door in the far corner, before returning to attack his partner with renewed energy. Grant followed Matt around the other combatants to the small room with a fading sign of office painted on its glass door.

Not bothering to knock, Matt opened the door. Inside a well-built young man was on the phone. He stood as they entered and stopped talking. Grant guessed he was expecting them and that the place must be fitted with an early warning system.

‘I’m Detective Inspector Turrell and this is Detective Inspector Grant. We need to have a word with the manager.’

Following Matt’s lead, Grant held up his warrant card while watching the man. He put the telephone down and folded his arms.

‘Well, you can’t. He’s not here.’

‘Then who’s in charge?’ Grant asked.

‘Tony.’

‘And where is he?’

‘Gone for his break.’

‘Who were you phoning?’

‘None of your business.’

Grant experienced a sudden rage towards this bastard who was messing them around. Before Matt could stop him, he shot forward and pinned the man against the wall, rejoicing to know his strength and weight had the man at bay.

‘Stop messing us about, you arsehole. Let’s have some straight answers, or else.’ With the blood rushing to his head it was a moment before he heard Matt’s quiet command.

‘Let the man go, DI Grant.’

With an effort, he obeyed, taking a step back.

‘I’m sorry about that. We are anxious to find this man.’ Matt offered a picture of Vinny James. ‘You may know him as Vincent or Vinny. Have you seen him recently?’

Keeping a wary eye on Grant, the man peered at the photo. ‘No. Never.’

‘Thanks. We may need to come back. Come on, Grant.’

There was silence between them until they reached the car.

‘Was that really necessary?’

‘He was messing us around.’

‘What we would expect, surely?’

‘But shouldn’t put up with.’

‘What would be the point of beating the man up?’

‘It would show him we mean business.’

‘And lose us any possible co-operation.’

They continued in silence along the Myton Road towards Warwick, their next stop a small cafe. Grant, aware that Matt was unusually quiet, sought to lighten the mood. ‘Should get a better reception here.’

‘And if we don’t, will you be tempted to threaten another member of the public?’

‘Hey, he was asking for it.’

‘I didn’t see that.’

‘You see what you want to see.’

‘Meaning?’

‘Seeing the good in everyone, treating them right. It’s not a language these bastards understand.’

‘So I was wrong to give you another chance?’

‘No. I won’t let you down.’

‘If you do, it will be the last time.’

‘Is that what you’re hoping for?’

‘Bloody hell, Grant. I could do without this hassle. I need you working at full capacity, just like the rest of us. Right now I want to get home, so let’s get this over with.’

Matt got out of the car and headed to the cafe. For a moment, Grant was tempted to walk in the opposite direction, but clamping down on his temper, followed behind.

It was a brief visit as the place was full with late-night shoppers. Matt questioned the busy waitress, showing her the picture of Vinny, while Grant stood sullenly behind him. Afterwards Matt drove in silence to Grant’s flat. Before Grant could leave, Matt spoke. ‘I’m wondering if this is working for you, Grant?’

‘Early days.’

‘You might be better taking some leave.’

‘No bloody way.’

‘Let’s talk about it in the morning.’

Too angry to speak, Grant left, slamming the door behind him. Watching the tail lights of Matt’s car disappear, Grant glanced at his watch. He was already half an hour late for his meeting with the woman, yet he daren’t go straight to the pub in case Matt drove round the block just to check on him. Something Grant wouldn’t put past him. He went into his flat, pausing only to abandon his suit and slip into casual gear.

Five minutes later, he was ready to leave and after a brief check for Matt’s car, he rushed to the Golden Acorn, hoping against hope that the woman was still there. He’d show Matt he wasn’t ready to be put out to pasture. Bringing Vinny in would make everyone realise what a valuable member of the team he was.

Inside the Acorn, the same crowd were busy enjoying their drinks. Grant could smell the alcohol as soon as he entered, but as he made his way to the bar, he couldn’t see the woman anywhere. Disappointment almost put him off buying a drink, but he needed an excuse to be there, so he waited his turn at the bar. No one appeared interested in him; even the barman gave him only a brief nod and before Grant could mention the redhead, he’d turned away.

Frustrated, Grant tackled his pint, forcing himself to take it slowly instead of gulping it down, as he wanted, while he waited for the rush to calm down. When a brief respite came, Grant jumped in to order another pint. This time the barman was less hassled. ‘The young lady, the one with the red hair, has she been in tonight?’

‘Yes. Couldn’t stay. Said to meet her here at six tomorrow.’

‘Thanks.’

The barman just nodded and Grant downed his pint. He fought against having another, knowing he had to have a clear head in the morning and excited by the prospect of getting closer to Vinny.

Chapter 49

When it was announced that they were to have a rehearsal in the Royal Shakespeare Company’s Clore Centre, everyone in the choir had been thrilled. Not only that, but they were to have tuition from an RSC movement coach. Tonight was the night, but for Kathy, the excitement was washed away by the events of the previous evening.

Last night, it had taken a long time for Kathy to calm down enough to drive home. Bent over the steering wheel, waiting for the tears to stop, she realised this was the first time she had really cried since Jack died. In those early days, she’d tried to stay strong for Pam and the girls by telling herself that is what Jack would have wanted, until it was too late and the pain became like a splinter, buried deep and healed over on the surface.

A couple walking by had peered in on her, looking concerned, and dreading any offers of help, she wiped her eyes, blew her nose and started the car. Waves of tears washed over her as she drove home, making it hard to concentrate on the road. When she noticed a police car approaching with its blue light flashing, Kathy thought they must be looking for her, but the car sped past intent on someone else’s crisis.

This morning her head ached and her eyes were swollen and red. She was glad she had the day off, although she wondered if she would have been better working. All night she’d been on edge listening for that knock on the door, certain that Harry, knowing she had killed Jonathan, would have gone to the police. If he showed up tonight, she didn’t know how she would face him.

In case the police arrived to arrest her, she decided to get the house straight and by the evening, it was spic and span. It had been a long day. Just after lunch Kathy thought the moment had come, but it was only a neighbour returning a cake pan.

The door to the Clore Centre would have been easy to miss if she hadn’t been told it was next to Carluccio’s Italian restaurant. A small group from the choir stood shivering outside and as she joined them, Kathy learned they had pressed the bell and were waiting admittance. Somehow, this formality added to the excitement and led to light-hearted laughter and comments that Kathy attempted to join in with, all the time wondering if Harry had arrived.

When the door opened, they signed in and followed their guide upstairs to a long corridor before being shepherded into a room on the right. It looked like a classroom. Eager for the experience of working with an RSC movement expert, most of the choir had already arrived. Kathy scanned the room but couldn’t see Ida or Harry. Maybe he couldn’t face her. She tried to join in the conversation as they waited.

Directed to a large rehearsal room, they spread out, as told, across the floor. It was marked out with tape for different productions. The centre was mostly used for educational purposes, but at times the RSC actors rehearsed here. This gave it an air of magic and Kathy wondered what famous actors had stood on this very spot. Being here felt like a validation that they were doing something worthwhile.

Just as they were about to begin, Ida and Harry arrived. Kathy guessed they had come together. She risked a whisper as Ida came to stand by her.

‘Thought you weren’t going to make it.’

‘Wouldn’t miss this for the world. John had trouble finding Harry’s gran’s. He’s very quiet tonight. What have you done to him?’

Kathy was saved from answering when Greg Doran, Chief Associate Director, welcomed them to the centre. A warm, charismatic man, he spoke of how the RSC looked forward to opening the new theatre and went on to say that their performance, along with the other amateur groups, was essential to test out the new stage in all its aspects.

Buoyed up by his speech, Kathy threw herself into the loosening up exercises, feeling silly at first, but then as everyone joined in, relaxing enough to enjoy it.

After several exercises, they began working on the final floor plans for their performance and received suggestions and pointers for improvement. As the hour ended, everyone joined in a hearty round of applause for the help received and began to filter out. Kathy looked around for Harry and seeing him at the end of the file, forced herself to go over to him. As the queue moved forward, she tried to speak to him. ‘I’m sorry.’

He wouldn’t look at her. ‘For what?’

‘For bullying you.’

‘And Jon?’

Kathy remained silent, unsure if she was repentant about killing him.

‘Dave?’

‘Sorry isn’t enough.’

‘I’ve found that.’

Kathy was quiet, thinking how right he was. She hadn’t been prepared to give him a second chance, or even consider anyone in the gang could be remorseful about killing Jack. Much had changed in these last few days. Harry was moving away from her. She hurried to catch up with him. ‘Harry, I was wrong.’

‘Tell that to Vinny James.’

‘Wait.’ Kathy caught at Harry’s sleeve as he moved away. He shook his arm free. ‘Why?’

‘’Cause he’s got his own list. And we’re all on it, including you.’

‘How would he know about me?’ She stood still, shocked.

‘The man in Henley Street. You introduced yourself.’

‘I only gave him my first name.’

‘Well, now he wants more.’

‘You…you haven’t told him it was me?’

‘No.’

‘Will you?’

‘He’s threatening my gran.’

‘Oh my God. Harry, you have to protect her.’

Seeing that he’d scared her, Harry seemed to relent. ‘The police are looking for Vinny; maybe they’ll catch him soon.’

‘I’ll go to the police.’

‘How will that help? Besides, she’s going to Auntie June’s for Christmas; she’ll be safe there.’

‘But the rest of you?’

‘We’re taking care. You should too.’

‘Harry…’ Kathy watched as Harry turned his back on her. No wonder he wanted nothing to do with her.

Chapter 50

Trying to keep his attention on the road, Matt thought about Grant. He’d tried hard not to lose his temper with the man, knowing it wouldn’t help. But he was testing his patience and Matt couldn’t afford to keep giving him second chances. Tomorrow, he’d need to deal with the situation, but how depended on Grant.

By the time Matt reached home, he was tired and longing for his dinner. Putting the key in the lock, he heard raised voices. Guessing the cause was Angela, he sighed and pushed open the door to find Eppie facing her mum. Angela hastily pulled her dressing gown around her as Matt entered.

‘If you want to behave like this, then you will have to do it elsewhere.’

Matt tried to get Eppie’s attention. ‘What’s going…?’ He stopped as a middle-aged, rather bemused man, still fastening his shirt and carrying his shoes, tiptoed gingerly from the bedroom and the cause of the row dawned on him. Bloody Angela had brought a man into their bedroom. Anger rising, he stepped to Eppie’s side.

‘If this is what it looks like, then I agree with Eppie.’

Angela waved her arm. ‘Oh really, you young people think you are the only ones who are allowed to have any fun. This is Derek.’

Derek smiled and nodded. ‘Maybe I’ll be on my way.’ He put on his jacket and still carrying his shoes and tie, slid cautiously by Matt to the door.

The closing of the door seemed to restart the anger. Eppie shook off Matt’s restraining arm and moved towards her mother.

‘You really are disgusting. How dare you bring a man in here – to our bed!’

‘My bed at the moment, surely?’

‘Not any longer. It’s time you found somewhere else. You can start packing.’

‘You’re going to throw your own mother out on the street?’

Matt thought it time to step in. ‘No. We are simply going to find you alternative accommodation.’

‘I won’t be forced to stay in some cheap hotel.’ Angela disappeared into the bedroom, banging the door.

Matt guessed that was her way of telling them it wasn’t going to be easy reclaiming their bed as they could hardly drag her kicking and screaming out of the flat. Maybe if they managed to find her somewhere nice. Although it would be expensive, it would be worth it to have some peace and a decent night’s sleep.

‘It might not be easy, Matt. Everywhere is full for Christmas and the toy conference.’

‘We can try. You get the laptop, I’ll try the phone book.’ Matt bent over the phone book, thinking how thin and anaemic it was nowadays, a former shadow of itself, mostly full of adverts.

Over half an hour and several phone calls later, Matt was desperate for his dinner. He sighed and leant towards Eppie. ‘Any luck?’

‘No. What are we going to do? I can’t put up with her anymore, Matt. God, that sounds awful.’

‘But for you, I wouldn’t have stood her for a minute.’ Matt paused, noticing the tears in Eppie’s eyes. ‘Hey, come here.’ He pulled her to him and felt the tears release. This was much worse for her. For him, it would be like having his dad here and that would drive him crazy. He held her until the tears subsided and as she pulled away, pushed a box of tissues over to her. ‘You have a shower and relax while I rustle up something for supper.’

‘I can’t let you do that.’

‘Yes, you can.’

‘If you’re sure?’

‘Yes.’

‘There’s some leftover lasagne. You could warm that up – have it with salad.’

‘What about…?’ Matt nodded towards the bedroom.

‘Guess we’d better feed her. Thanks.’

As Matt began preparing supper, he thought about the situation and wondered if he could pull in a favour from anyone. They couldn’t go on living like this indefinitely.

Matt was just about ready to dish up when a knock came on the door. He went to answer it while Eppie, fresh from her shower, took over. It was Ida.

‘Sorry to bother you, Matt, but it’s John’s card game tonight and we need the table back.’

‘I’m so sorry, Ida, we should have returned it sooner. I’ll bring it right now.’ Lifting the table from its place against the bookcase, he called out to Eppie. ‘Won’t be a minute, love.’ This could be his chance to ask Ida about Kathy and as he followed her, he thought of ways to bring it up.

‘How are rehearsals going?’

‘Oh, very well. We’re working really hard.’

‘Did you have a rehearsal last Monday?’

‘Yes, but why do you want to know?’

Matt wondered how much to tell her. ‘Spoke to Kathy Wylde the other day. She mentioned it, that’s all.’

‘Yes, she enjoys it. I think it’s helped her get over Jack’s death, although she was feeling under the weather and left early on Monday. I do hope she will be alright for the concert.’

‘We’re looking forward to it.’

‘Well, I’m sure you will enjoy it.’

Carrying the table through, he nodded to John and turned to leave. ‘Must get back, Eppie’s dishing up.’

On the way back to his flat, Matt thought about the consequences of what he had just learnt. He couldn’t rule Kathy Wylde out of the enquiry. She had both motive and opportunity. The only thing that puzzled him was where she could have obtained that amount of morphine.