Sorcerer (14 page)

‘She is?’

‘Pauline just wants it all to carry on. She wants our girls to be as domineering as she is and our boys to be saps who’ll spend their lives under some girl’s control. You know, I was really touched by that little girl in Pakistan who was on the news recently. She’d been shot by the Taliban for demanding her right to an education and there’s my wife who’s quite happy to watch our daughters throw their chance of an education away because she doesn’t think it’s important for what she calls families like us’.

‘You are joking?’

‘I wish I was’.

‘Well you’re their father’ said Jack. ‘Don’t you get a say?’

‘To put it bluntly, no’ Mick admitted. ‘Believe me I’ve tried to get all my kids interested in education but Pauline shoots me down every time. She says there’s no point in our kids getting an education because there’ll have jobs not careers. But I want something different for my kids, Jack. I want them to have bigger dreams than me. I want them to go out and see the world, to grab life and get as much out of it as they can. I want them to have lots of sex of whatever kind they choose between consenting adults and not even think about having babies until they’re at least in their thirties. My eldest daughter, Tina, she’s a really bright kid, all her teachers have told her that, but she won’t apply herself to learning and Pauline says that’s alright. She says it doesn’t matter what kind of job she gets as long as it pays a wage that she’ll put towards the treadmill she’ll be getting on with her boyfriend when she tells him she’s pregnant’.

‘What about your sons?’

‘Well the eldest is about to take his GCSE’s. He’s quite a bright kid too and I’ve been sneaking him out to talk about his homework and how he’s going to get the best results’.

‘You can’t do that at home?’

‘Pauline would ridicule it. She’d say I was wasting our Daryl’s time filling his head with crap about doing something with his life. My other son is only four so there’s a way to go with him yet but what’s so wrong with wanting your kids to be alive instead of just going through the motions of a dreary waste of a life?’

Jack kissed Mick’s shoulder.

‘Sorry to rant on’ said Mick.

‘No, don’t be sorry’ said Jack. ‘I’m glad you feel able to talk so freely to me. It just annoys me that as a father you don’t seem to have a say in your own children’s future’.

‘Do you think I should man up?’

‘Well I’ve never known what that really means’ said Jack. ‘But you’re an intelligent man, Mick, and you can express yourself. If your family aren’t listening then I really feel for you and for your kids’.

‘I can talk to you about it. I couldn’t talk to anybody else’.

‘I like to give you what you need when you’re here but you’ve probably noticed that’.

‘You’re so bloody good for my ego’ said Mick.

‘You don’t do mine any harm’.

‘I know but four kids into a marriage that started when I was eighteen because the pregnancy test was positive, I’d forgotten what it felt like to be attractive to someone. You’ve handed that feeling back to me and I never thought I’d ever say that to a man. But thank you, Jack. You’re a diamond’.

‘You don’t know how welcome you are, my friend’.

SORCERER ELEVEN

By the time Jeff got home it was past nine o’clock. The call from Gabby Lake saying that her father had been talking about somebody called Anne had sent the team into overdrive to try and find out who she was. Gabby Lake had been convinced that she must be someone significant and Sara had shared that belief. When somebody goes senile, or when somebody is pumped full of drugs like Gabby’s father Ed following a nervous breakdown, they tend to remember highly significant parts of their lives that for one reason or another they’d suppressed the memory of. Gabby had put the squad in touch with her Great Aunt Jocelyn and on a hunch Rebecca Stockton had rung her. She’d confirmed that the Anne in question must be George Griffin’s daughter from his first marriage. She was about three or four years older than Ed and Jocelyn didn’t know very much about her. So where did she go? A lot of people run from difficult family situations and keep on running for the rest of their lives because they’ve locked themselves into that mindset. The idea of trying to go back and fix everything just never comes anywhere near their thinking. It’s like their head is locked and they just keep on running. Jeff had seen it all before. They close themselves off. They submerge themselves in a world where the truth of their existence can be avoided. That’s what he thought must’ve happened to Anne Griffin. Something happened to make her run and she’s never been able to contemplate ever coming back.

‘Did Toby settle okay?’ asked Jeff.

‘Yeah, he was fine’ said Lewis. ‘He’s been asleep for well over an hour now’.

‘I’ll go and check on him’

Jeff went upstairs and quietly opened the door to Toby’s bedroom. He was indeed fast asleep with one arm above his head and the other by his side. Jeff knelt down and kissed his forehead lightly. He loved his son so much. He couldn’t work out why anybody could do any harm to children. He’d never even smacked Toby and yet he was dealing with a case where children had been subjected to far worse in the way of physical and sexual abuse. He just didn’t know what right George and Mary Griffin had thought they had to take a child’s innocence away. He whispered goodnight to Toby and then went back downstairs where he slumped on the sofa. The TV was on. Lewis was watching some ITV drama written by a woman where all the men were idiots and all the women saved the day. He’d seen the same sort of thing a hundred times before and wondered what all the TV advertising meant by ‘original’ drama. There was nothing original about this shit. Jeff was no misogynist but rubbish like this on TV was enough to make him flirt with the idea for a second or two. Where were the TV dramas about single Dad’s who cope and get through it?

‘Are you watching this?’ he asked Lewis when his brother came into the room.

‘Not really’ said Lewis. ‘It’s pretty banal’.

Jeff used the remote to change channels and found one showing highlights of the latest test cricket match between England and Pakistan.

Lewis then handed Jeff a tray with a late supper of a sirloin steak accompanied by an avocado salad and a large glass of red wine. He put the bottle down on the floor beside Jeff’s feet.

‘Ah this looks magic, man’ said Jeff who’d been dreading getting himself something decent to eat when he got in. ‘You’ll make somebody a lovely wife one day’.

Lewis smiled. ‘Just tuck in and shut up’.

Jeff carried on devouring his meal and maintaining his conversation with Lewis who was sat in the armchair with a glass of the same red wine. ‘Where’s Seamus tonight?’

‘He’s on a stopover in Berlin’ Lewis answered referring to the fact that his partner Seamus was a pilot with a short-haul airline based at Manchester. ‘He’ll be picking Toby up from school tomorrow. I’ve got a staff meeting to go to’.

‘Okay’ said Jeff. ‘I wish it didn’t have to be like this’.

‘You mean you don’t really want me and Seamus looking after Toby?’

‘No you idiot I didn’t mean that’.

‘Are you missing Lillie Mae?’

‘I miss her so much at times it fucking hurts, you know’.

‘And now is one of those times?’

‘You bet’ said Jeff.

‘I wish I could help you, mate’.

‘Hey look, you do so much for me and Toby. We wouldn’t be able to function without you and Seamus. You can’t help me anymore than you do already’.

‘You’ve always been a good big brother to me. Now it’s my turn‘

‘Have you heard from Mum and Dad lately?’

‘Not a word. And you?’

‘The same’.

‘But our Linda rang me today. She’s coming up for a few days in a couple of weeks. She wants to see us both’.

‘Did she mention Toby?’

‘No mate she didn’t’.

‘And I don’t suppose she asked after Seamus either?’

‘No she didn’t’.

‘Then I for one will not be seeing her’ said Jeff as he got to the last mouthful of steak. ‘Unless she can accept your life and my life as they are then she’s no sister of mine. Now are you staying over tonight?’

‘I may as well seeing as Seamus is away and I’d only be going back to an empty house’.

‘Good’ said Jeff. ‘Then let’s get cracking on this wine. I feel like having a glass or two tonight. But before we do I’ll go and put the washing on. That way it will be done by the time I turn in’.

Sometime in the middle of the night a thought occurred to Jeff that was still there when the alarm went off at seven. 

‘Rebecca, what was the time scale on Mary Griffin’s body coming over from Belgium?’ he asked her as soon as he got to work.

‘With regard to what, sir?’

‘Well how long after she died did Griffin bring the body over?’

‘It was all done within a couple of days I think. Why?’

‘It just seems a bit quick, that’s all. Usually, even within the EU it takes a few days to complete all the paperwork. And Belgium is known for being particularly bureaucratic’.

‘I’d never thought about that before to be honest’

‘It might be something or nothing’ said Jeff. ‘But it occurred to me that the process all happened with remarkable speed’.

‘So what do you think he was up to?’

‘I don’t know’ said Jeff. ‘But doesn’t that strike you as being a bit suspicious? I mean, they have been married a long time and yet he hardly seems grief stricken? You know what I’m saying?’

DC Oliver Wright then came into Jeff’s office and told him and Rebecca that the former resident of Pembroke House, Dominic Power, had called from New Zealand with some interesting information about the retired businessman Jack White. Wright also said he’d received the report into Jack White’s financial affairs and on his bank account it showed that he’d been making regular payments for the last twenty years to someone called A. Griffin.  

‘Now there’s a little complication’ said Rebecca. ‘So why would he be doing that?’

‘I don’t know’ said Jeff. ‘But I aim to find out’.

Jack White was fast asleep when he was shaken out of his dreams by a loud banging on the front door. He put on a bathrobe and went downstairs. In a small room just off the main hallway he kept three screens connected to security cameras. He checked the one covering the front of the house. It was the police. The same detectives who’d interviewed him at the police station. What the hell did they want?

‘We need to ask you some more questions, Mr. White’ said Rebecca who walked into the house with Jeff behind her. ‘Thank you for letting us in. Do you want to go and put some clothes on before we continue?’

‘It depends what it’s all about?’ asked Jack, guardedly.  

‘Mr. White, when you were at the police station we had a friendly enough conversation’ said Jeff. ‘So can we continue in that vein? It would help you to be co-operative’.

‘Yes, of course, but I thought I’d answered all your questions then?’

‘But you hadn’t and there are now two matters we need to discuss with you’.

‘Go on?’

‘Well firstly, we’ve had a call from a Mr. Dominic Power’ said Rebecca. ‘He was a resident at Pembroke House but he now lives in New Zealand. He told us about a conversation he’d overheard between you and George Griffin regarding a man called Leroy Jackson?’

‘I think you’d better get dressed, Mr. White’ said Jeff. ‘You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Maybe throw some water over your face at the same time’.

When Jack came back downstairs he’d put on a pair of white cotton trousers and a red polo shirt. He sat down in the living room with his unexpected and unwelcome guests although it wasn’t altogether a chore. He found Jeff Barton to be very easy on the eye. He’d always liked that tall, firmly built rugby player type with the broad shoulders and he was very handsome. Jack’s lover Mick was all of those things but he also had a cheeky chap thing about him too.  

‘So, Mr. White, did you know a Leroy Jackson?’ Jeff asked.

‘No, I didn’t know him’.

‘Please don’t lie to us, Mr. White’.

‘I’m not lying to you’.

‘Mr. White, did you or did you not arrange for Leroy Jackson to be beaten up on three occasions back in the early nineties?’

Jack took a deep breath. Dominic Power had obviously done a thorough number on him. The treacherous little bastard. ‘Yes, that’s true’.

‘So you were lying to us?’ said Jeff’.

‘No, you asked me if I knew Leroy Jackson and it’s true to say that I didn’t know him’.

‘You just arranged to have him beaten up?’

Jack sighed impatiently. ‘I had no involvement in what actually took place. I gave George Griffin the number of a man I knew who knew other blokes who liked to throw their fists around. It really was as detached as that’.