Kenny paused at the crime scene tape, the only visible evidence that anything had happened there. He was sorry; he had liked Tina, liked her jokes, her flirting, her skills at pint-pulling. Had she flirted with somebody else apart from Graham? Living with Charlie Linwood, and the dangers that entailed, didn’t seem to stop her from having the odd fling with the customers.
The spot wasn’t far from the tree his lads had used for the last ten years to escape from parental controls. He thanked God they had been in bed on the night of Tina’s murder, and not up the bloody tree.
His phone pinged and he didn’t need to look at it to know that it would be somebody saying, Any news?
Janice too was feeling out of sorts, unable to eat, not really able to do much at all. It was hard dealing with death at any time, but Carla, Lorraine and Tina all going almost at once was difficult to handle. Despite spending most of the week on her own, going away with Lorraine had been such a good holiday. Janice had been able to spend most of her time reading, which was unthinkable at home because Dave didn’t like her to even pick up a book. He liked to talk, and she was expected to respond. She couldn’t do that with her head stuck in a book.
Many times Beth had tried to get them to do something as a threesome, but Janice had declined with a laugh. ‘You don’t know what a luxury being on my own is, I’m quite happy on a sunbed with a cocktail on my table, reading. And when it gets too hot I can cool off in the pool. You two go, leave me alone,’ she had said, smiling.
And they had done as she requested. It was obvious from the start what the outcome of this particular holiday romance would be, so before they headed to the airport, Janice promised herself she wouldn’t reveal any of it to Kenny West.
Dave knew a little. On one of their ‘talk nights’ when even the television wasn’t switched on, he had joked with her about having a new feller on her girls-only holiday. She had laughed, buoyed by three rhubarb and ginger gins and a Bailey’s, and said it wasn’t the men he needed to worry about, if Lorraine was anything to go by. He had dug for more information, of course he had, but Janice hadn’t said anything beyond Lorraine had had a bit of a fling with a woman. Janice made him promise to say nothing to anyone, and he did. She could trust him; she recognised that even through the alcoholic fumes surrounding her.
She loaded the dishwasher, taking note that the loss of friends didn’t seem to affect Dave’s appetite; his plate was clear. He’d never mentioned her revelation again after that night, and sometimes she wondered if he actually remembered any of it – he’d had about four pints himself.
Maybe she should text Beth; Janice had been reluctant to do so, she didn’t want any repercussions, but now it was out in the open, so to speak, it would be different. She went to get her bag from the hall cupboard, and took out the scrap of paper with Beth’s number on it. She hadn’t entered it into her phone. In her mind, while ever it wasn’t physically entered, she didn’t know it. She typed a simple message, asking how Beth was, and hit send. Then Janice deleted it. She felt as though she was a spy working for MI5.
The reply came back quickly saying that she was good, and did Janice know the funeral details yet.
Janice sat down with a thud. She could feel her heart racing, the blood rushing around her body, as she attempted to digest the message. Surely Beth wouldn’t come to the funeral… If Kenny guessed, she would be toast. As would Janice for giving Beth the information.
She messaged back that she didn’t know yet, but as soon as she did she would contact her. A simple ‘thank you’ was Beth’s response.
Janice felt sick. Everything felt wrong, and she suspected it was mainly down to her. If bloody Dave wanted a talk night tonight, he could sod off. She was talking to nobody, she had a date with an author called Stephen King, a book called The Outsiders, and if she wanted to read, she bloody would read.
With a glass of gin by her side, and a small box of chocolates to hand, she was switching off from the world, and everybody else’s lives, for tonight.
21
The briefing room was noisy as people inputted data, checked they were doing it right, talked through ideas, and generally, desperately, tried to find the missing Isaac West.
Tom watched them, saw Holly moving between desks, geeing everybody on, listening to thoughts, and he knew she wouldn’t be a sergeant for long. And then they would move her to a station that required a DI, and he would lose the awesome feeling of knowing he would see her every day.
She was listening intently to a newly seconded officer, who was asking her questions, and Holly was nodding. Tom went out to join them.
The officer stood.
‘DI Tom Fowler,’ Holly said, ‘and this is PC Matthew York, sir. Newly seconded to help out. He’s called Matt in the real world, not Matthew. He’s been reading through everything, and has mentioned he can’t see much about the mask.’
‘Good point, Matt. I have to tell you we have a pretty good picture of it, but we don’t have the actual thing. There’s to be a tv appeal tonight with Kenny West and Jack West, because we’re appealing for the safe return of Isaac, whether it be under his own steam or if somebody else is holding him. We’re going to show the mask on that programme, see if it stirs somebody’s conscience, or somebody’s found one for their kid at Halloween in a rubbish bin. We need to jog people on this. Good pick up, Matt. The mask is key. Know why?’
‘DNA, sir,’ the young PC said. ‘It will have saliva and possibly hair follicles in it. Find that and we certainly solve the two ladies in the bookies murder, even if it doesn’t link to Tina Jackson or Isaac West.’
Tom glanced at Holly and she smiled. ‘Thank you, Matt,’ Tom said. ‘You want to be part of the team taking calls tonight after the broadcast? It goes live about 6.45 so we’d need you here for 6.30.’
‘Too right I want to be part of it.’ Matt grinned. ‘This is much better than patrolling Crystal Peaks, although even that stepped up a notch when Isaac went missing. I feel as though I’m living there, I’ve been going down when I’ve not been on duty, just walking round. I’ve got the security men down there on full alert, so if Isaac goes there he’ll be stopped and held. I’ve even got ’em checking waste bins constantly, in case that mask turns up.’
‘Good man,’ Tom said. He turned to walk away. ‘Don’t forget, back here for 6.30, I’ll make sure you’re on the list.’
‘I’ll hang on here,’ Matt responded. ‘Work through till the lines open up. This young lad being missing… it’s a bit of a bummer, isn’t it. I can work proper hours when we’ve found him.’
The broadcast went well, Kenny held it together but Jack didn’t. It was when he said Let my brother come home that he broke down, and he was removed from behind the table. Kenny continued, pleading for his son to head back home, he wasn’t in any trouble – all the platitudes that parents produce when a child goes missing, and everybody sits at home saying it’s always the parent who did it.
But Kenny hadn’t done it; he knew he hadn’t, and he didn’t really care what anybody else thought. He knew his son was in danger somewhere, and unless there was some help following on from this broadcast, they were at an end with trying to find him.