Bad Moon Rising (#1 - D.I. Paolo Storey Crime Series) (11 page)

“Have they sent all the facts down?”

“Yes, sir, but there isn’t much. The victim was a prostitute, so no surprise there, in her fifties, so similar in age to the last one found down here. But our older vic was killed before the younger two, so that makes sense in a way. Clearly, unless there are bodies we don’t know about, he switched from older women to younger ones. Why do you think he did that, sir? Or is it just a male thing. You know, time to move on to the younger model?”

Paolo looked up into CC’s grinning pixie face. Thank God there were officers like her around. Bloody good at their job, but with a sense of humour too.

“Do you think it’s worth you making a trip up to Liverpool, CC?”

“It might be, sir. I’d like to look into the background of this victim. If she was the first... shit, I hope she was, then we might be able to get a lead on where and why our man chose her. It could help us down here.”

Paolo mentally reviewed the cases he was working on and the officers involved with them. “I think you’re right. You and George should go.”

“Right you are, sir. I’ll go and let him know we’re off on a trip and to sort out his bucket and spade. I believe there’s some nice coastline up that way.”

Paolo laughed. “Yeah, right, and the two of you can build sandcastles in the middle of the coldest bloody March in years. Have fun and don’t forget to pack a picnic.”

As the door closed behind her Paolo checked his watch again. Still too early to call the school. He got up and walked across to the window separating his office from the main room. He tapped on the glass partition to get Dave’s attention and signalled for him to come in.

Dave didn’t look anywhere near his normal self. His face was drawn and showed the signs of sleep deprivation that Paolo was feeling.

“Rough night, Dave?”

The younger man scowled. “You could say that, sir. You wanted me?”

“Yes, I take it CC shared the news? I want you to run checks on every one of Azzopardi’s businesses. See if you can uncover any connection with Liverpool, no matter how slight. If there’s anything, anything at all, that would take him or one of his thugs up there, then I want to know about it.”

Dave nodded and turned to leave. As he did so Paolo spotted blood on Dave’s collar.

“Cut yourself shaving?”

Dave put his hand directly on a graze above the bloodstain. “No,” he said. “Shall I get on with what you’ve asked me to do, or would you like to know what I had for breakfast?”

“Whoa, Dave, what’s up with you? I only asked if you’d cut yourself.”

“And you asked if I’d had a rough night. Either you want to hear about my conquests or you don’t. Make up your mind,” he said and walked out.

Bloody hell, Paolo thought. I must have really touched a nerve there. Five minutes later CC came back to say she and George were ready to set out on their way north.

“CC, come in a minute will you. Shut the door.” Paolo waited until he was sure they couldn’t be overheard. “Have you noticed anything odd about Dave this morning?”

“You mean odder than usual?”

Paolo laughed. “Yes, a bit. He seemed to be really touchy this morning. Was he off with you?”

“He always is, sir. He can’t seem to get his head round the fact that I prefer my own sex. Anyway, yes, he is acting a bit odd, but I put that down to the fact that the girls have been talking.”

“Don’t tell me they are still falling over themselves to go out with him?”

“Nope,” CC answered with a grin. “That’s not it. What they’re saying is that there isn’t much point in going out with someone who can’t get it up.”

“CC!”

She laughed again as she got up and headed for the door. “Well, you did ask and now you know. See you in a few days, sir.”

Okay, that really wasn’t a situation he could do anything about. Dave would have to find his own way to deal with the consequences of upsetting so many WPCs that they’d joined forces against him.

He checked the time again. The school would be open now. Sighing, he picked up his phone. This was one call he really didn’t want to make. He listened to the ringing tone and his stomach felt like it had been invaded by squirming centipedes. It reminded him of being ten years old and waiting outside the headmaster’s door. He couldn’t even remember now what he’d done wrong, but he sure as hell remembered the waiting time.

A female voice answered and Paolo recognised the homely tone of Mrs Pearson, the school secretary. He asked to be put through to the headmistress and could hear in the way that Mrs Pearson responded that she knew why he was calling. It seemed he would have a fight on his hands if he wanted to secure Katy’s future at the school.

C
HAPTER 
N
INE

He sang softly as he cruised. Friday nights in this part of town never changed, thank God. It made his work easier. The whores plied their trade in streets where no respectable people came; only those who used their services knew where to find them. As he edged the car around into Beacon Street for the fifth time he finally saw the whore he’d been searching for. She was leaning against the wall, eyes closed as if in prayer. He hoped she prayed. If she did God might save her. Almost as if she knew he was there, she opened her eyes and looked over towards the car. She was perfect for his needs. Almost the image of the girl in his precious photograph. If God approved of his choice, he’d make sure that she’d never turn into the hag that girl became.

He slowed the car. It crawled forward a few yards and then stopped. He touched the button to lower the window on the passenger side. She stood up straight and smiled, a look of interrogation on her face. Why did they all look like that, as if they really
wanted
to get in the car and open their legs? His heart pounded and his hands felt slippery on the steering wheel. He could barely swallow. It was always like this when he came to collect one of God’s chosen.

If she turned and walked away that would mean God didn’t want him to take her.
It’s up to you, Lord.
She moved towards him, and he waited, shivering with anticipation. If she got in, then God had spoken and he would do His work. She reached the car and leaned in through the open window. He almost gagged as a cloying sweet scent filled his nostrils. Forcing himself to smile back at her, he nodded in the direction of the dashboard where a wad of twenty pound notes were resting on the leather in front of the steering wheel.

“Fancy a drive?”

She nodded and opened the door, slipping into the passenger side of the car.

“Like car,” she said.

He didn’t answer as he eased the vehicle forward and drove away. He didn’t need to make conversation.

***

Paolo climbed out of bed on Saturday morning feeling as if he needed to sleep for a month. Yet another night had seemed to go on forever while his brain refused to shut down. Images of dead women had swapped places with Katy and Lydia in a macabre kaleidoscope until he’d given in and switched the light back on at three in the morning. He’d read a few chapters of Terry Pratchett’s
Night Watch
, but even that man’s brilliant humour had failed to hold his attention and he’d found his mind running in pointless circles. Desperate to sleep, he’d switched the light off again but had then lain in the dark until it was time to get up.

After his call to the school he’d realised his chances of getting Katy off with nothing more than a reprimand was optimistic at best. Now all he could hope for was to get to the bottom of Katy’s sudden bizarre behaviour and find a way for her to put things right with Father Gregory. Failing that, the school board would be meeting next week to discuss expelling her.

By the time he’d showered and shaved he felt able to cope with the day ahead. Swallowing a mouthful of coffee, he switched on the television to see what was going on in the world. The BBC had a panel discussing human rights and Paolo’s least favourite solicitor was spouting his usual politically correct garbage. He felt like chucking his mug at the screen. Bloody Matthew Roberts. The man made him sick. But Paolo knew he had to get beyond personal emotions. Matthew was chairman of Katy’s school board and Paolo couldn’t afford to upset him. At least, he couldn’t do so before he’d resolved Katy’s issues with Father Gregory.

Bloody hell, Katy, what sort of nonsense is going on in your head?

As he pulled up outside his old house the front door opened before he’d even switched the engine off. Lydia stood on the step, foot tapping. She looked as lovely as ever and Paolo wondered yet again if it might not be too late to save their marriage. He didn’t wonder for long.

“It’s about time, Paolo. Don’t you care?”

“Good morning, Lydia, it’s good to see you, too.”

“Don’t start with the sarcasm,” she said, turning to go back into the house.

Paolo followed her and closed the door behind him. “Where is Katy?”

“She’s up in her room and hasn’t eaten anything since yesterday. Says she’s on hunger strike until someone listens to the truth.”

Paolo laughed, but stopped as Lydia rounded on him.

“That’s right, you laugh. You couldn’t give a shit about what happens to Katy.”

Paolo was about to yell back when he realised tears were streaming down Lydia’s face. He opened his arms and she walked into them, sobbing against his shoulder. He held her close, breathing in the familiar scent of her and wishing the moment would go on forever. Eventually the sobs stopped and she pulled away, furiously rubbing at her eyes with a soggy tissue.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to break down. She won’t speak to me, Paolo. Please, find out what’s wrong. She’s always been closest to you. She’ll tell you.”

He squeezed her arm and headed for the stairs. “I’ll do my best,” he said, then turned back to face Lydia. “I’m not sure if my best is going to be good enough though. As I told you yesterday, the school aren’t going to let her comments pass without some sort of action.” He smiled and hoped it looked more reassuring than he felt. “Don’t worry, Lyds, we’ll get to the bottom of this.”

He climbed the stairs and knocked on Katy’s door. When no one answered he tried the handle, but the door was locked on the inside.

“Katy, it’s Dad. Come on, open up.”

Silence. He waited a few seconds more and then tried a different approach. “This is the police. Open up in there. We have the place surrounded. You can’t escape, so give yourself up and I’ll make sure the courts go easy on you.”

Before he’d even finished, he heard footsteps approaching.

“Yeah, yeah. Very funny, Dad. I’m not going to apologise to that creep if I come out. You can’t make me,” Katy called through the door.

“Just open up and let’s talk about it, okay? I don’t even know what you said or why you said it. How am I supposed to argue your case with that very scary woman downstairs if I don’t know what really happened? Huh? Come on, master criminal and scourge of the world, open the door.”

He thought his humour hadn’t worked because nothing happened for several seconds, but then he heard the key turn in the lock. The door swung inwards and Katy stood in the opening.

“Shall I come in, or are you coming out?”

“Is Mum still downstairs?”

Paolo nodded.

“I don’t want to listen to her going on at me again. I know I’ve messed up. I don’t need another lecture.”

“You hungry?” Paolo asked. “Want to go somewhere for a brunch?”

“Can we go for a Big Mac?”

“It’s too early for that,” he said, hoping his thought that any time of the day was too early for MacDonald’s didn’t show on his face.

“You don’t have to have one, Dad. You could have a MacMuffin. That’s sort of breakfast, isn’t it?”

“If I knew what one was I might agree with you. No, don’t explain, I’ll take my chances and find out when I’m eating it. And you can have whatever you want as long as I don’t have to have the same.”

She smiled, but it was a woeful effort. “Is that bribery? Should I be reporting you to the police complaints people?”

“You can if you want, but it’s not a bribe as such, more a sweetener to get you talking. That’s allowed. You get yourself ready and I’ll go and put myself on lookout duty to see if the coast is clear.” He stopped joking and took her hand. “Look, Katy, I’ll make sure you don’t even have to wave at your mum in passing on the way out, but you have to promise me that you’ll speak to her when we get back. Okay?”

“Okay,” she said. “But I’ll need dessert too if I’m going to have to listen to a catalogue of all the things that I’m guilty of doing to ruin her life.”

“Katy, your mum’s never said any such thing.”

“She doesn’t need to,” she said, snatching her hand back. “It’s in her face every time she looks at me. Sometimes I think she wishes I’d got knocked down instead of Sarah.”

He wanted to argue with her, tell her she was talking nonsense, but as usual thoughts of Sarah lying bloodied and battered in the road robbed him of speech.

Katy must have realised, because she gave him a half smile as she closed the door.