Acid Row (15 page)

“Let her in,” Harry called. “She's one of ours.” He waved Fay forward with a rolling arm movement, staring hard at Jenny's computer. "Have you heard about Sophie? It's a nightmare. The police have been caught on the hop ... so we're trying to find someone to get a message through to whoever's in charge of the bloody thing. If only the silly girl hadn't turned off her mobile ... we could talk direct .. . sort it out sensibly.“ He nodded at the monitor. ”Jenny's going through the list to see if she can find anyone in Humbert Street we can talk to ... but it's hopeless .. . The patients are filed by name, not street .. . it's like looking for a needle in a blasted haystack. The nearest one of mine is in Glebe Road but she's deaf as a post and not answering." He flicked his hand to gee her up. "It's a crisis, Fay. Any ideas?

Humbert Street. You must have some customers there."

Fay might have been a little more circumspect had Harry not referred to Sophie as a 'silly girl'. As it was, she leapt to the conclusion that Sophie was in the wrong. “I did,” she said primly. "Not any more.

Courtesy of Dr. Morrison."

Harry frowned at her. What the hell was the stupid woman talking about? “Has the patient moved?”

“Not that I'm aware of.”

“Could we have a name?” he suggested silkily. "When you're ready, of course."

Fay pursed her lips into a tight little rosebud. "Melanie Patterson."

He tapped Jenny's shoulder and leaned forward to watch while she scrolled through to P. “Got it,” he said. '21 Humbert Street. OK Sophie's her registered practitioner. What do you think?" he asked Jenny.

The woman chewed her lip. “She's only nineteen,” she said, pulling up Melanie's notes. "Six months pregnant .. . two toddlers .. . but it looks as if she knows Sophie pretty well. She's seeing her every two weeks for antenatal care.“ She shook her head. ”I don't know, Harry,"

she said worriedly. "We could scare her stiff and start a miscarriage."

“Young women aren't usually that fragile, still .. .” He pointed to the next-of-kin box. "What about her mother? Gay-nor Patterson? She's just two streets away. How about calling her and seeing if she can give us the names of any of Melanie's neighbours?"

“OK.” Jenny tapped Gaynor's number into the phone. “Hello,” she said.

"Am I speaking to Gaynor Patterson? .. . Briony .. . Yes, it's important." There was a long pause while she listened to the voice at the other end. "All right, darling, then how about you give me both numbers and let me have a try .. . No, I'm sure she won't be angry. Do you come to the surgery? Do you know who Dr. Morrison is? That's right, Sophie .. . Well, I'm the lady who sits at the desk and calls your name when it's time to go in.“ She chuckled. ”You've got it ...

the old one with glasses. Good girl." She wrote on her pad, then listened again. "No, sweetheart, promise me you won't go looking for Mum. It's dangerous out there and you might get knocked over. If I get through, I'll tell her you're worried and you want her home. Is that a deal? .. . Sure, I'll call back in about twenty minutes. Yes my name's Jenny. Bye, now."

She raised stricken eyes to Harry. "The poor little kid's frightened out of her wits. She says it was supposed to be a protest march, but she thinks something awful's happened because gangs of boys keep charging up their road and all she can hear is screaming and shouting.

She's worried that her mum and Melanie have been hurt because they were leading the march.“ She pointed to her pad. ”She's given me their mobile numbers, but she says she's been trying for half an hour and can't get past their voice mails I promised I'd have a go for her."

Harry ran a worried hand through his thinning hair, sending it heavenwards in wisps. “Do that,” he said distractedly. "They're probably the people to talk to, anyway. They must have some clout if the march was their idea.“ He paused. ”I can't believe this," he blurted out. "Kids on their own in the middle of a damn riot. Who started it? Tell me that. I'll wring their bloody necks myself. Did this kid say if she tried Melanie's house?"

Jenny nodded. "She says Rosie answered but there was so much yelling she couldn't hear what she was saying ... so she hung up and tried again. The second time the phone was engaged, and she thinks Rosie hasn't put it back properly, which means they're probably on their own as well."

“How old's Rosie?”

Jenny checked the monitor. “Four.”

“Dear God!” He raised his voice. “Have you heard any more your end?”

he asked the policeman.

“Sorry, sir.” The young man held up his radio, which crackled intermittently with messages. "Same as before. The helicopter's still reporting all cars held outside the barricades. It's not looking good.

There's a WPC down as well head injuries and we can't get to her either."

“Christ, what a mess!” said Harry. "Couldn't you chaps have seen this coming? What the hell induced you to put this man in there in the first place? You must have realized that most of the people on that estate would automatically assume paedophile meant monster." He glared angrily in Fay's direction as if he held her responsible.

Her mouth opened and closed like a goldfish's but no words came out.

Harry focused on her for a moment, then ignored her. "What was he done for, anyway? You say he's not dangerous, but what sort of paedophile is he?"

The policeman gave an unhappy shrug. "All I know is what we were told in the briefing before I came out. He was a teacher in a private school and got sent down for three counts of sexual assault ... It was a long time-frame .. . The first one happened about fifteen years ago .. . the last fairly recently. He's only interested in boys and didn't get much of a sentence because his first victim was seventeen, the last two sixteen, and all said they consented to what was going on. I reckon the assumption was he'd get his head kicked in if he tried the same thing in Acid Row."

“What did he do?”

The youngster cast an embarrassed look at the two women. "Stimulated them," he muttered.

“What sort of stimulation?” demanded Harry, with a doctor's insensibility. “Oral or masturbation?”

“Masturbation.”

“In return for what? The same or penetration?”

“Nothing.”

“What do you mean, nothing? How did he achieve orgasm himself?”

The policeman shrugged. "None of the boys was asked to do anything.

It's why his sentence was only eighteen months."

Harry shook his head in bafflement. “So his pleasure was in giving?”

I guess."

“He sounds too passive to be a rapist.”

"That's what my guvnor said. He wonders if Dr. Morrison's got the wrong end of the stick. Let's face it, she's bound to be scared ... I mean, we know there's a big crowd in that road .. . and one of the callers said they were armed with stones.

Let's say the guy put his hand on her arm to reassure her .. . and let's say she assumed more than he intended because she knew he was a sex offender."

Jenny broke off from re dialling the numbers. "But I don't think she did,“ she protested, 'certainly didn't.” She paused to order her thoughts. "In any case, which one's the paedophile? The father or the son? Sophie was very specific. She said the patient had taken her prisoner and wanted to rape her .. . and the patient, according to the information I had, was the father."

The policeman pulled a face. “I thought there was just the one.”

“We've definitely got two of them registered.”

“Bring up their notes,” Harry told Jenny. “Let's see their ages.”

"I already did. They're new patients and their records haven't come through. All we've got is Francis and Nicholas Hollis, 23 Humbert Street, with an asterisk beside the names and “Zelowski” in brackets."

She scrolled through to prove it. "But I do remember the son saying his father was seventy-one .. . and that would make him well past retirement age for a teacher, wouldn't it?"

Harry looked inquiringly towards the policeman. "How old's your paedophile?"

“Not that old. I've seen a photo of him. Mid-forties, I'd reckon.”

Harry swore under his breath. “Keep phoning,” he told Jenny. "And you," he instructed Fay, 'tell me anything you can remember about Melanie .. . names of boyfriends, girlfriends, fathers of her kids anyone we can contact."

“What are you worried about?” asked the constable.

"I'm wondering who taught your paedophile that giving pleasure was an aim in itself. Forget the age and sex of his victims, it's very unnatural behaviour .. . incredibly docile. It suggests that his needs must always be subservient to someone else's."

“The father?”

"Almost certainly. There's too much evidence showing that abused boys become abusers themselves .. . and the most likely abuser is the father or stepfather.“ He shook his head. ”The way this guy does it suggests that sex frightens him. And if he learnt that from his father .. ." He looked very old suddenly.

Jenny touched his hand briefly while she listened to yet another playing of Melanie's mail. “Sophie's a tough girl,” she said. "She won't submit that easily." This time she left a message, asking for her call to be returned as a matter of urgency. "We'll have to leave this phone free now,“ she said. ”There's no point having it engaged if Melanie does ring back. That leaves just one line operational out here, plus the direct lines in the offices. I think we need to spread out and work separately.“ She glanced at Fay. ”Thought of anyone yet?

You can use the computer in Sophie's office to track down their numbers. It might be better if you let me make the call, though. The police don't want us saying too much and making the situation worse."

“But ... I don't understand .. . what situation?” Fay protested. "It's all very well to say do this ... do that .. . but how can I do anything if I don't know what's going on?"

“Neither does anyone else,” said Jenny, 'except that Bassin-dale's rioting. The police think it's targeted on this man Sophie's with, but no one knows how his identity came out. He was convicted as Zelowski but was registered as Hollis when he moved to Bassindale."

“Some idiot with a big mouth and no brain,” said Harry grimly, stalking off towards his office. "They ought to be shot .. . putting people in danger like this."

“I agree,” said Jenny equally grimly, turning back to the telephone and trying Gaynor's number again. She noticed that Fay's face went suddenly blotchy, but she paid no mind to it because this time the phone was answered.

Saturday 28 July 2001 Hampshire Police Headquarters

TYLER INSTRUCTED ONE of his sergeants to locate Martin Rogerson and deliver him to headquarters ASAP. "Paula Anderson drove him to the press conference, so get on to her and see if they're still in the area. I want him here where I can see him, so tell Paula not to accept any excuses. If she's already returned him to Bournemouth or is still en route, ask her to bring him straight back again. Understood?"

“She'll need a reason, boss.”

"New lead .. . promising this time. I'll interview Laura at Gregory Logan's house first' he checked his watch 'which gives Paula about an hour's leeway. The earlier the better, though, tell her. It won't do Rogerson any harm to twiddle his thumbs for half an hour in an interview room."

He beckoned over the sergeant who'd interviewed Towns-end's neighbour and ran through the notes he'd made on flights. "See if Easyjet have a record of him travelling back on Friday morning. It'll be the Palma to Luton route. And get them to check for a Ms F. Gough. She flew out with him on Tuesday but doesn't know if he organized a flight home for her. Find out if he had a reservation which he changed to Friday.

That'll tell you the day he was intending to return. If she's lucky he booked her in on the same flight."

The sergeant was curious. “Is this the new girlfriend?”

"You tell me. Did you get a name or a description when you spoke to his neighbour?"

He shook his head. "She never met her, just said the new girl was probably the reason for the break with Laura."

“Or with Amy,” said Tyler. "We're all assuming it was the mother he was interested in."

The sergeant frowned. “I don't get it, boss.”

"According to the hotel manager, Franny Gough looks and sounds like a twelve-year-old. She's dark and petite and “pretty cute”. The manager's words, not mine. Remind you of anyone?"

“Jesus!”

"Right. Townsend's been making videos of her on a nudist beach but he buggered off early Friday morning after talking to someone called Martin then getting a message possibly a fax." He pointed to the e-mail address Franny had given him. "Try mailing Townsend and see if he bites. Tell him you need to talk to him about Laura and Amy Biddulph. Nothing heavy. Just say you need the names and addresses of anyone they became friendly with during the time they were living with him."

“Do I put in a contact number?”

Tyler nodded. “Give him my mobile .. . tell him it's yours.”

“What do you really want from him?”

“What he's been up to for the last twenty-four hours,” said Tyler going back into his office and closing the door behind him. He dialled the number Franny had given him.

“Hello?” said a woman's voice.

“Mrs. Gough?”

“Yes.”

"This is Detective Chief Inspector Tyler of Hampshire Police. I'm phoning on behalf of your daughter."

There was a small silence. “What's she done this time?”

No concern for the girl's welfare, he noticed. No "Zc she all right?

which was the usual reaction to such a call. "She's been abandoned in a hotel in Majorca and the manager won't let her leave until the bill's been paid. The manager confirmed that her companion's hire car and possessions have gone, so I think you can be sure she's telling the truth."

“Edward Townsend, I suppose?”

“That's the name she gave me.”

He heard the flick of a cigarette lighter at the other end of the line.

“How did the Hampshire Police become involved?”

"We've been trying to contact Mr. Townsend on another matter. When the manager discovered he'd already left, he asked Franny to talk to me."