Snow Kills (14 page)

‘Well, while you’re sat here thinking, we’ll just go and see how the search team are doing, together shall we?’ Vicky said, getting to her feet and pulling Ned to his. ‘Can I use your bathroom?’

‘Down the corridor on the right.’

Ned didn’t take his eyes off Norris, but putting her hand behind his back Vicky pushed him out of the room. As soon as the door shut behind them Ned turned. ‘What’s with the high and mighty stuff? He’s a bloody perv, a weirdo. I’m not playing his bleedin’ games any more.’

‘He isn’t responding to your aggression, can’t you see that, you idiot? You’re being totally unprofessional and you’re fucking annoying me. So quit it, and sharp.’

‘Don’t try tell me what to do, you’re not my bloody boss,’ said Ned, indignantly. ‘Give me five minutes on my own with him and he’ll tell me what he’s done, no worries.’

‘Good job I’m not your boss or you’d be off the fucking enquiry as quick as you could say ’ow’s y’ father. All you’re gonna do with an attitude like that is wreck the case.’

‘I’m not that stupid. I don’t know about you, but I’m looking for a missing girl and time’s crucial right now, so if you think I’m pussy-footing around some mentalist you’re mistaken. It’s him Vicky. For fuck’s sake, it’s him, I just know it, so will you stop sucking up to him and let’s get him banged up.’

‘If Dylan heard you right now he’d rip your fucking head off. How many times have you heard him say, never assume? Anyway if you didn’t notice, all we’re short of here, dick head, and before we can arrest him is that little thing called evidence,’ she hissed. ‘So how about you check with the others and see if they’ve found anything to incriminate him, while I nip to the loo.’

‘I told you, don’t tell me what to do,’ he said through gritted teeth.

‘You can thank God I’m not your boss right now, but what an incentive to go for the boards...fucking grow up?’ she said pushing him against the wall as she passed him on the narrow corridor.

‘You threatening me?’ he said.

‘Whatever,’ she said.

Standing at the little grubby sink, Vicky stared into the mirror above. Her teeth were clenched, she breathed heavily through flared nostrils, her face was red and her lips were pale – that always happened when she got angry. There was no warm water and the soap was hard and old and smelt of carbolic. She laid her hand on the thin, stained, linen towel briefly, heard raised voices and cocked her head to one side to listen. ‘Good God,’ she screeched, frantically trying to open the door.

Ned had returned to the lounge. ‘Right, you perverted bastard. What have you done with her?’ he shouted. He was nose to nose with Norris, who cowered in silence, his arms protecting his face. Ned grabbed the wig from his head and held it for a moment in his fist under Norris’s chin.

Vicky flew down the hallway, banging her head on the telephone fixed to the wall. ‘Ouch,’ she cried.

‘Where the fuck is she?’ Ned screamed, just as she arrived at the door. Ned stepped back, turned slightly and threw the wig onto the seat of a nearby chair.

Vicky threw the door open wide, and saw the back of Ned’s hunched figure. Norris smiled up at him momentarily, then he threw himself out of his chair and onto the floor.

‘What the fuck?’ she cried, running to aid of the calliper clad man, who lay on the floor of his lounge, sobbing. ‘What the hell’s going on?’ she screamed.

‘Whoever gave you that scar on the top of your head didn’t hit you fucking hard enough,’ Ned said, his face contorted in anger. Then he stepped back further, hands in the air. ‘I never touched him. I never laid a finger on him Vicky, I swear. The little prick threw himself on the floor,’ he said.

Vicky knew her colleague mouthed off and played the hard man, but to her knowledge he had never hit out before. Had Norris pushed him over the edge? She took in the scene before her. ‘How did that happen?’ she said pointing to the wig strewn like a rabbit skin on the chair.

‘Tell her the truth, tell her,’ Ned demanded. Vicky helped Norris back into his chair and offered him a tissue from her bag. He moaned.

‘Are you okay Mr Regan? A glass of water Ned please, now!’ she shouted, glaring in Ned’s direction. ‘It might help,’ she said to him her eyes wide and staring.

‘Bollocks, absolute bollocks!’ Ned said, storming out of the room. He was quickly back with a cup in his hand.

Norris sipped the water. Ned cheeks were red and his ego inflamed. He hadn’t liked the look of Norris Regan to start with, but now he knew how devious he was too.

‘Feeling better?’ said Vicky, soothingly. She knelt down beside Norris and took the cup from the old man’s shaking hands.

‘Yes, thank you, but please don’t leave me alone again with him again,’ he said, leaning to one side in the chair and rubbing his leg.

Ned for once remained silent, but stared at his prey, wishing looks could kill.

‘We just need to know, Norris. If did you go out that night, did you see anything that may help us? It is so important for us to find the young girl that has gone missing. Her mum is very worried, as you can imagine – just like your mum would have been if you’d gone missing when you were a teenager. Kayleigh was just trying to get home from work that night. She lives with her mum, just like you used to. The snow came down so fast she got stuck in her car, just up the road from here. Can you help us find her, please?’

‘I, I remember. I did go out.’

Ned nodded, smugly and eyeballed Vicky.

Vicky closed her eyes for an instant and sighed. Norris Regan appeared to have calmed down and was co-operating.

‘I was carrying a hot drink, but I saw two ruffians banging on a car shouting to be let in. I came back inside very quickly.’

‘Did you go back out again?’

‘I would have given them a good hiding once upon a time, but not now.’

‘What did they look like, these ruffians. Can you give us a description?’

‘I don’t know, it was dark and snowing but they sounded as if they’d been drinking,’ he said, scratching his stubbly chin.

‘Can you remember anything else about them at all? It’s really important.’

There was a knock at the door and Andy walked in. ‘Can I just have a quick word?’ he said, beckoning Ned out of the room.

 ‘Call me if you want me. I’m not far,’ he said to Vicky. She nodded and turned back to Norris.

Ned disappeared behind the closing door.

‘Come with me, I want you to look at something,’ Andy whispered. ‘You’re never gonna believe this.’

‘He lives here on his own and dresses in his dead mother’s clothes,’ said Ned as he followed Andy along the hallway and up the stairs. ‘I think I’d believe anything about this weirdo right now.’

Andy took Ned up the dark threadbare carpeted staircase that led into the bedroom.

‘Fucking hell, what’s that smell?’ Ned said, gagging into his cupped hand. He fumbled for his handkerchief. ‘No self respecting rat would venture up here.’

‘Should’ve warned you,’ Andy grinned. ‘You’ll get used to it after a while. Be careful you don’t trip over the cess pot,’ he said pointing to the potty directly in front of him. The rug at the side of the bed was heavily stained. ‘But that’s not what I’ve brought you up here to show you,’ he said looking at the wall. ‘Look at them.’

Ned was chuckling.

‘What the hell is there to laugh about?’ said Andy.

‘I was just remembering a tale my tutor once told me. He’d been called to a disturbance. A crowd had gathered around a house in a terrace he was passing on his beat. Peering through the window, they could see the old guy who lived there slumped in a chair. The corpse was mysteriously wet through and the house reeked, beside him there was a cast iron pot. They called the coroner, as you do, and a sudden-death investigation got under way. They interviewed the other people who lived in the house and took statements from all and sundry and in the end it was ascertained that the guy’s death was misfortune but not suspicious.’

‘And what’s that to do with the price of fish?’

‘Wait on ... Seemingly the guy used to keep a cess pot next to his bed like our man downstairs, and over the months it had become too heavy to lift so he’d let it spill over. It had soaked into the floorboards and they’d rotted. The bloody pot had only fallen through the ceiling and killed the old man as he sat in his armchair watching television that day.’

‘Jesus Christ, straight up?’

‘Straight up!’

Ned walked around the cess pot to look at the pictures on the wall. ‘Do you see anything odd?’

Ned screwed up his face and shrugged his shoulders. ‘Nothing surprises me about that weirdo downstairs.’

‘But can’t you see? Among the family portraits of him and his mother, the others are all wearing leg irons, why?’

‘It’s a fetish. The leg irons he’s got on, they’re his mother’s, and guess what? The sad bastard says they turn him on!’

‘Nah, come on, you’re winding me up,’ Andy said, his eyes as round as plates.

‘He’s what they call a calliper devotee, or so he says.’

‘Bloody hell, just when you think you’ve seen it all.’ Andy reached over the bed. ‘Down there’s his bedtime reading. Orthopaedic Appliances Atlas, Novel Approach to Sexuality and Disability with a special piece regarding Devotee Attraction,’ he read, picking just a few from the top of the pile with his gloved hands. ‘Now this lot is beginning to make more sense.’

‘And there’s the mucky mags. He’s serious wanker alright...’

‘In more ways than one.’

‘And he’s not as daft as he’s cabbage looking either. I raised my voice to him when Vicky was out of the room, to try and get a reaction and I got one alright, he threw himself on the soddin’ floor, making out I’d pushed him.’

‘What? Vicky knows you better than that,’ Andy said.

‘Yeah, but she’s still gonna tell the boss isn’t she? And it doesn’t look good, does it?’

Andy stood at the chest of drawers that still had the lady of the house’s dressing table set laid out on a crochet mat and looked through the mirror above. He slowly turned to look about the room. ‘Have you seen anything more crazy than that?’ he said pointing to the bell screwed to the bed head. ‘I wonder if that’s what his mother used when she wanted room service?’

‘Could’ve been,’ Ned said, sniggering.

‘We’re going to be here a while. You’ve only got to look at the state of this place to see we’ve a lot more digging to do, and it appears it might be worth a thorough look, don’t you agree?’

‘He was too close to his mother, it’s unhealthy. I watched a programme on TV the other day and kids who were still being breast fed at twelve years old. You don’t think?’

‘How does your mind work? Worryingly, you’re probably on this weirdo’s wavelength.’

Ned was still laughing as he ran down the stairs and, without knocking, he let himself into the lounge.

Vicky and Norris were sat chatting amiably.

‘We’ve just been going through Norris’s early life, haven’t we?’ Vicky said turning to acknowledge Ned’s entrance. ‘A bit of background on how mum brought him up on her own,’ she said quietly. ‘He doesn’t remember his dad ever being around, in fact he doesn’t know who his dad is, do you Norris?’ she said.

Ned watched Norris Regan’s body language as he sat opposite him. Vicky talked. Norris crossed his arms and legs, changing his stance into a defensive mode towards Ned as he replied. He made no eye contact at all with either officer but preferred to fiddle with a bit of ribbon on the edge of his apron.

Ned spoke in a softer tone, which made Vicky wonder what he was up to. ‘Were you a bottle fed baby, or were you one of the lucky ones?’ he said, his voice, gentle and hesitant to start with, gradually rose in pitch and volume.

Vicky looked at Ned as if he’d just declared he’d seen a flying pig. Norris raised his head slightly to look at him but said nothing.

‘A simple question Norris, not embarrassed or ashamed are we?’ Ned raised his voice further as speaking to a man who was hard of hearing.

Vicky sat still, one brow curled up, her mouth opened in a perfect ‘O’. Where the hell was Ned’s line of questioning going? What had Andy shown him upstairs?

‘You certainly like your reading material don’t you? The devotee phenomenon, Admirer, Devotee & Pretenders r i s k y...’ Ned said, watching Norris’s face intently.

Vicky breathed in through her nose sharply, sat up straight and pulled her jacket tightly around her.

‘No TV?’ Ned frowned. ‘So that’s how you get your kicks is it? That’s what turns you on?’

Norris was shifting in his seat as if he had sand in his blouse. ‘I’m an adult. It’s not illegal. I want to make a complaint,’ he said looking directly at Vicky. ‘I thought you lot weren’t supposed to be prejudiced?’ He turned back to Ned. ‘I want you to leave my house now,’ he shouted as he tried to stand quickly but his heavy metal callipers stopped him. He staggered, wobbled and flopped down once again into the chair.

‘Sit down please,’ Vicky said calmly. ‘We just want your co-operation. We’re losing sight of what we’re here for. We’re trying to piece together the last known movements of a missing young girl, whose car we have found abandoned a short distance from your home, aren’t we?’ she said, turning to Ned quickly, her eyes like daggers. ‘Now Norris, you told us on the night in question you did go outside but, came back in because you saw a couple of drunken lads? How old do you think these lads were?’

Vicky had managed to regain his attention. He screwed up his eyes and thought long and hard before answering. ‘Teenagers, early twenties I’d say. It was dark and snowing, how the hell am I supposed to know?’ he said, disgruntled.

‘Let’s cut to the chase. Did you see a pink car or the young girl that was driving it?’ Ned said.

‘I can’t help you,’ Norris said flatly.

‘Just talking to us and letting us search your house has helped already to try to eliminate any involvement you may have,’ said Vicky.

‘Well she isn’t here. You’re wasting your time with me,’ he said pulling himself to the edge of the chair and with effort he pushed himself up to a standing position and took a hesitant step forward.