Kennedy 02 - A Darker Side (18 page)

Chapter Thirty-Six

Alice Potter hadn’t been able to settle since that detective and his sidekick had left. She had guessed they would come sniffing around sooner or later and she’d been ready for them.

They should be grateful she’d spoken to them at all. She could easily have denied all knowledge of Rose Dee and her deceitful cow of a daughter. Thinking about it, perhaps she should have done just that. At the time, though, she’d felt better for being able to give vent to her feelings.

What did it matter, anyway? They couldn’t prove anything. Not now. Terry was dead, as was that lying bitch Josie Dee. She’d got what was coming to her all right.

It was thanks to her and her lies that Alice and Terry had been forced to leave Harrington. They’d been happy there, but Alice had known they needed to get away. She certainly hadn’t wanted her Terry hanging around there as the target for more lies.

So they’d upped sticks. They moved to Manchester, right away from Harrington. Terry got a job at the factory, and Alice managed to clean a couple of days a week. They’d soon settled down, and Alice had thought they could be happy there.

Two years later though, it all started again.

This time, it was an eleven-year-old, Heather Irvine, who caused trouble. Little bitch she was. Alice blamed the schools for filling their heads with such filth. At the same age, Alice had known nothing about sex. She knew little more now.

Heather Irvine had run to her dad with her disgusting lies. The little madam had said that Terry had taken her into the bushes and meddled with her. She’d said all the kids knew he used to hang around the playing field. That was a downright lie. If the weather was good, he used to eat his sandwiches there at lunchtime. There was no crime in that.

The Irvine girl claimed he used to take sweets for the girls. Perhaps he did. That was Terry all over. He was too soft for his own good.

Not content with taking sweets off him, the lying little bitch had said he took her into the bushes and touched her.

It was all lies. The little madam should have had her mouth washed out with soap and water. Instead, she’d run to her dad with her lies and he, a big thug of a bloke who spoke with his fists, had knocked Terry about.

Poor Terry had crawled home with his nose and jaw broken and a couple of cracked ribs. It had been left to Rose to clean him up.

Word got out and the next thing, people were spraying filthy obscenities on the outside of their house.

In the end, they’d been forced to move on again.

Alice had decided it was time to make a complete change so they’d headed for the seaside. Blackpool had suited them from the start.

Terry was a fool, though. He didn’t learn. One summer’s day, Alice saw him talking to a young girl and she watched, horrified, as he handed over a packet of sweets.

It was the last straw.

Oh, Alice knew it was only kindness. She also knew that others wouldn’t see it that way. They would soon start spewing out their malicious filth.

‘You’re to stay indoors,’ she’d instructed Terry firmly. ‘We’ll go out together. I’m not having people telling lies about you again. I won’t stand for it . . .’

That’s how they’d been forced to live, like prisoners in their own home. All because young girls had their heads filled with disgusting nonsense. It
was
nonsense. Of course it was.

Terry had no children of his own so it was only natural he should take an interest in other people’s. That wasn’t a crime, was it?

He’d been a good man - soft, gentle, kind and generous. He wouldn’t have done anything bad because he knew it would have hurt his sister. Alice had always watched out for him, right from the moment he was born, and he wouldn’t have done anything to hurt her. He wouldn’t!

She wished she’d never heard of Rose Dee and her cheating daughter, just as she wished she’d never heard of Heather Irvine.

She’d had Terry, and he’d been enough for her so that she’d never wanted a husband or children. If that’s how the little devils behaved, she was glad about that.

That policeman and the woman had unsettled her, though. Why did they have to rake it all over? It was all lies. Filthy, unfounded lies.

Alice refused to spare it another thought.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

The following morning, Jill and Max stood in Phil’s office. It wasn’t a pretty sight. Phil was in a foul mood and he was less than happy about their trip to Blackpool.

‘I suppose you took in the sodding illuminations!’ he snapped.

They ignored that.

‘What I’d like to do’ Jill began.

‘And what I’d like,’ Phil cut her off, ‘is a profile. Is that too much to ask? Even a vague bloody profile. Just who in hell’s name are we looking for, Jill?’

‘I don’t know.’ How could she know? ‘We have two murders, both members of the Hayden family,’ she reminded him, ‘and two missing schoolboys. For the moment, I have to concentrate on the murders. I have nothing else to go on. So I’d like to check out places offering terminations in the area around the time Josie Hayden was fourteen. The more I think about this, the more convinced I am that Terry Potter did get her pregnant.’

‘Oh, for’

‘Listen, Phil. Josie didn’t wrongly accuse George of getting her pregnant. We know that because Andy is the image of his dad. It’s the same with Brian Taylor. Martin was a ringer for him.’

‘So what if Potter did get her pregnant?’ Phil cried, exasperated. ‘The bloke’s dead. And what the hell does it have to do with James Murphy or Jason Keane?’

‘Possibly nothing,’ she admitted.

‘Jill, we have two boys missing and the parents are in a right bloody state as you can imagine.’

He was wrong. Jill couldn’t even begin to imagine the state they were in. Nor could she imagine how Max was feeling right now.

‘I’d still like to get the local clinics checked out. It’ll be time-consuming, I know, but it might be worth it.’

‘You liked Josie Hayden from the start.’ He spoke in an accusing way.

‘I did, yes, but that has nothing to do with anything.’

Phil grunted, which possibly translated as ‘Fine, use all the staff and resources you need.’ She doubted it.

‘You’ll need to give a bloody convincing statement to the media, Max,’ Phil said, turning his attention in Max’s direction. ‘Don’t give them the impression that we don’t have a clue what we’re doing!’

‘Right,’ Max said.

‘Even if it is bloody true,’ Phil said, determined to have the last word. ‘We’ve got every available officer on this case,’ he reminded them both. ‘Every resource available is in place. What more do you need, for Christ’s sake?’

‘I’m sure it’s only a matter of time before we get a decent lead,’ Max said.

Jill was surprised he was sounding so calm. She was a wreck.

‘Why James Murphy? Why Jason Keane? Hmm?’ Phil wanted to know.

‘Your guess is as good as mine.’

‘Guess? Christ, you’re not even bloody guessing, Max.’

‘Right, well, we can’t waste time,’ Max murmured, taking a step towards the door.

‘Indeed,’ Jill said, taking a step in the same direction. ‘I’ll make a start on the local clinics.’

‘Keep me informed,’ Phil snapped. ‘I’ll catch up with you later, Jill, and I’ll expect progress.’

‘Right,’ she said, and she was out of the door before he thought of something else.

‘That was useful,’ Max said on a sigh once they were out of earshot.

‘Quite.’

‘I’m out of here,’ he added.

He looked and sounded calm, but Jill knew he wasn’t. How could he be when his own son had been threatened with the same fate as Martin Hayden?

‘Are you all right?’ she asked quietly.

‘I’m fine.’ He touched her chin in the lightest of gestures. ‘Don’t worry, Harry’s safe. Don’t even think otherwise.’

She nodded.

‘I’ll issue a statement to the press,’ he went on, ‘and then I’ll be at the school. Get the new girl what’s her name?’

‘Lucy?’ She named the girl who’d joined the force last week.

‘Yes. Get her to give you a hand with the phone calls. Although I have to say ’

‘You think it’s a waste of time,’ she finished for him. ‘I know. I’ve got damn all else to do, though.’

‘OK, I’ll see you later.’

Jill watched him stride along the corridor, car keys jangling from his fingers. She liked a man who was calm in a crisis but she couldn’t help thinking he was too calm.

Forgetting Max for the moment, she went in search of Lucy.

Lucy didn’t ask questions, thank goodness. She was soon on the phone, pen in hand. Jill started on her own list. How was it possible to have so many maternity clinics in the area? There were hundreds.

By lunchtime, they’d drawn a blank. That was either because they were only halfway through their lists or because hospital records were so sketchy. Or, she thought grimly, because she was on totally the wrong track. Perhaps Alice Potter was right and Josie had made up a pack of lies about a pregnancy.

The more she thought about it, though, the more she believed Josie had been raped as a child. It explained a lot, like the fact that she’d been naive and not keen on sex, like the fact that she hadn’t been a virgin when George met her . . .

Lucy brought them a coffee and a sandwich for lunch and they ate it at their desks. It promised to be a long, fruitless afternoon.

‘I’m going to drive out to the farm,’ Jill announced. ‘Will you carry on here, Lucy?’

‘Of course.’ Lucy, new to the force, seemed to be enjoying herself.

She pulled up next to a police car and was about to head for the house when she spotted Sarah walking in her direction from the field.

Jill waited for her.

Poor Sarah looked lost. She was a sad thing, and Jill’s heart went out to her. Life had never been much fun on the farm, she suspected, but now it was downright unbearable.

‘Hello, Sarah,’ she said. ‘How are you doing?’

‘Oh, OK, I suppose,’ she said. ‘There’s a policeman here.’ She nodded at the car. ‘Dad doesn’t want a fuss made, he never does, but it’s good of the police to bother. But there, I suppose with Mum and Martin gone, they think one of us might be next.’

She spoke in a flat tone as if she didn’t much care what happened to any of them. Who could blame her?

‘I’m sure you’re safe,’ Jill said, not sure of any such thing. Who knew where this maniac would strike next?

‘Sarah, can you remember your mum mentioning going away anywhere as a child? When she was, say, fourteen?’

Sarah thought for a moment, but shook her head. ‘It’s funny, but Mum never spoke much about her childhood. If I ever asked her about it, she’d change the subject. Now she’s gone, there’s loads of things I’d have liked to ask her.

It’s too late now.’

Much too late.

‘Do you think she had a happy childhood?’ Jill asked.

Sarah looked as if she had never even considered the question before. ‘I don’t know, but no, probably not. Dad might know if she went away as a child,’ she added. ‘He’s indoors.’ She began walking to the house, then turned to Jill. ‘Why do you want to know?’

‘I’m not sure,’ Jill said carefully. ‘We’re looking into your mum’s past, to see if we can find anyone who might have done this to her and Martin, but there’s nothing local.’

Sarah led the way into the kitchen. George Hayden was standing by the window, a huge mug of tea in his hands.

‘Miss Kennedy,’ he greeted her.

He still looked lost and totally bewildered. Jill suspected he was filled with regrets, too. Josie hadn’t had a fun-filled life with him, and he knew it.

‘Hello, Mr Hayden,’ she said. ‘How are you coping?’

‘We’re coping,’ he replied automatically. ‘What can we do for you?’

He was still bluff, but there was a softness to the edges now.

‘We’re looking into your wife’s past, Mr Hayden,’ she began, not wanting to give too much away, ‘and we’re wondering if she mentioned going away anywhere as a child. A holiday, an unexpected trip something like that.’

‘Not that I know of. She never spoke much about life before she met me. She worked in a solicitor’s office, and she spoke of that sometimes, but nothing else. She rarely mentioned her mother at all. They didn’t keep in touch.’

It had been a long shot, Jill knew that. They were busy checking the local clinics, but Josie could have been booked into a private clinic anywhere in the country. She and her mother might have caught the train to London and been back in forty-eight hours. Yet Alice Potter claimed that Rose had gone away for a few months.

‘Religious differences,’ George said suddenly.

‘Sorry?’

‘I think that’s why they didn’t get along,’ George explained. ‘Her mother were Roman Catholic and Josie would have nothing to do with the Church.’

‘Catholic?’ Jill had no idea. She was convinced she’d read C of E on the paperwork.

If Josie had been brought up as a Catholic, there definitely wouldn’t have been a termination. If Josie
had
been pregnant, there would be a child somewhere.

‘Why was that?’ Jill asked curiously. ‘Why was Josie against the Church?’

‘Who knows?’ he replied. ‘Apart from calling them a load of hypocrites once, she never talked about it.’

There had been scant conversation in their marriage.

‘Will you have a cup of tea?’ he asked.

Jill was completely taken aback. Of all the people to offer refreshment, George Hayden would have been last on her list. ‘Thank you. That would be very welcome.’

‘Sarah, love,’ he said, nodding at the kettle.

While Sarah made the tea, automatically handing another huge mug to her father, they chatted about Josie. It saddened Jill to think they had no real happy memories of her. Josie’s life had been a drudge. There were no laughing anecdotes.

‘Hey,’ Sarah said suddenly, ‘she did go to Ireland once.’

‘Ireland?’ George repeated, frowning. ‘I never heard of that.’

‘Yes,’ Sarah said, sifting through her memories. ‘One day, me and Mum were sorting out rubbish to take to a charity shop. Mum were a hoarder and she wanted the spare bedroom emptied. In the midst of a load of old junk plates, china animals, and stuff I’d never seen before I found a dish. It were an ugly thing a souvenir from Dublin. When I laughed and asked her where she’d got it from, she said, “Dublin. Where do you think?” She were quite snappy with me. I asked if we were going to throw it out and she said no. Later that day, and she’d been strange and snappy all day, she went and threw it in the dustbin.’

Dublin? Was it just possible that Rose had taken Josie to Dublin to have her baby?

‘When did she go, Sarah? Do you know?’

Sarah shook her head. ‘I asked her about it, but all she said was that she’d been there years ago and could hardly remember the place.’

‘Did she have family in Dublin?’ Jill asked George.

‘Not that I know of,’ he said. ‘Like I said, she never talked about her family. She didn’t say much at all about her life before she came here.’

‘It were a horrid dish,’ Sarah said. ‘It were white with a green shamrock on it, and it said Good Luck at the top and Dublin at the bottom. Real ugly it were.’

The sort of thing a child might like to remind them of a place, Jill thought. Having said that, the entire farmhouse was filled with ugly china dogs and chipped china birds.

She tried to jog their memories, to see if they could recall Josie mentioning any other towns, but they could think of nothing. Jill knew more about her milkman than they knew about the woman they’d lived with for so many years. It was a sad thought.