Behind Closed Doors (Season One: Book 7) (Jessica Daniel) (2 page)

‘You don’t know what I’ve been through.’

‘I didn’t mean it like that.’ He paused, hunting for the right words. ‘We all miss you. I know it’s a workplace and we get paid for being there but it’s like
a little family too. I’ve watched you grow up.’

Jessica didn’t reply.

‘I was out with my daughter at the weekend, it was my turn for custody. She’s a right bundle of energy. We went to the park with one of her friends and she spent hours racing around,
climbing, running, swinging, but most of all laughing. I probably only have a few months of that left before she doesn’t want to be seen with her dad any more. I was on a bench overlooking
everything and she came over every half an hour, saying, “Did you see me, Dad?” Me and her mother have had such problems but I’ve never been happier than I was seeing that grin on
her face.’

Jessica swallowed hard. ‘Why are you telling me this?’

‘Because on the way home, they were both in the back seat of the car. Someone had been to their school talking about careers and they were full of it. My daughter said firmly, “I
want to be a policeman just like Daddy”. I didn’t have time to tell her not to bother because of the hours, pay and everything else we deal with because her friend cut in. She said,
“Only men can be police officers”. I don’t know where she got that from but my daughter asked if it was true. I told her that not only could girls be police officers but they were
often the best ones.’

The lump in Jessica’s throat was so large that she could barely breathe and she struggled to reply. ‘What do you want me to say?’

‘Nothing, I just wanted you to know that we’re thinking of you. Isobel and Dave are lost.’

‘I’m not ready yet.’

‘And there’s no pressure for you to be . . .’

Cole tailed off, the only noise being the gentle clatter of rain on concrete outside and the faint sound of traffic from the main road. Jessica tried to think of the last time she had been out
by herself, other than to collect a parcel from next door or to visit the shop at the end of the road to pick up some bread or milk. The house had become her prison as much as a home.

She could still feel his eyes on her but continued staring at the blank television screen.

‘How are things with—?’

Jessica interrupted before Cole could finish. ‘Why are you really here?’

He took a deep breath. ‘Something’s happened—’

‘I told you I’m not ready yet.’

‘It’s not what you think. We’ve been asked for assistance by a different district.’

‘That happens all the time. We tell them we’ve got no officers free and they move on.’

‘This is different. They’re looking for a certain type of person.’

‘And you think that’s me?’

‘I think most things could be you if you wanted them to be . . .’

Jessica didn’t respond at first, letting the rain fill the gap before eventually replying. ‘You’re not going to make me do anything just by being nice.’

Cole laughed. ‘Would you rather I was nasty?’

‘Just tell me what it is.’

The DCI cleared his throat, any pretence gone. ‘We pulled a man’s body out of the canal a few weeks ago. He was only wearing his underwear, no wallet, no ID. His head had been
shaved, so had his eyebrows, chest, armpits – everything. He had been badly beaten and was covered in bruises.’

‘What killed him?’

‘He had been drowned. You know what it’s like, no free officers, waiting on forensics. It’s the same every time. Isobel was a star as ever, working her way through the lists of
missing people until we only had a dozen or so to check. We eventually got it down to one name.’

‘Anyone I’d know?’

Cole shook his head, raising his voice slightly as the sound of the rain increased. ‘It was someone named Liam Renton. He had a very minor criminal record with a couple of drunk and
disorderlies, theft from a shop and a threatening behaviour charge that was dropped.’

Jessica didn’t want to appear interested but she could feel herself being drawn in. ‘How old was he?’

‘Twenty-four. He’s a native Manc.’

‘How does that connect to a different district?’

‘We visited his family. Unlike what you might expect, his parents are still together. He’s got two younger sisters and a younger brother. They come from a respectable
area.’

‘That doesn’t mean much.’

‘Quite – but I visited myself. You know what it’s like when you have a feeling about people but there was none of that. None of them had spoken to him in a year or so. His mum
said he had big problems with alcohol and drugs but it was his younger brother who knew the most.’

‘How young?’

‘He’s eighteen but he’d heard things from around the estate about what his brother was up to. At first it was all drink and drugs and that was why he had been ostracised by the
family but around six months ago, Liam cleaned himself up – at least according to his brother.’

‘What then?’

Cole shuffled nervously in the seat, glancing away from Jessica towards the window and then back again. ‘Then he disappeared. The rest of his family hadn’t seen him in a year but his
brother knew what he’d been up to from the mutual people they knew. Then it all stopped.’

‘But he only turned up dead recently?’

‘The brother said he’d heard Liam had been recruited.’

‘What for? The army?’

Cole shook his head, reaching into his back pocket for a notebook. The fact he was completely prepared wasn’t lost on Jessica. So much for only wanting a chat.

‘How well do you know the Bible?’ he asked, not looking at the pad.

‘A bit. I went to Sunday School as a kid. Basically we’re not allowed to be gay but we are allowed to keep slaves. We’re supposed to love one another but an eye for an eye is
fair game too. It’s all very confusing.’

Cole looked down at his pad. ‘There’s a group up on the Lancashire–Yorkshire border that live in a massive stately home. They’ve been on the local watch list for a little
while. Once a week or so, they visit the centres of the bigger cities, Manchester, Leeds, and so on, recruiting.’

The penny dropped for Jessica. ‘They’re a religious cult?’

Cole shrugged. ‘That’s the point, no one really knows what they are. To all intents and purposes, they are simply a group of friendly people trying to help. On the streets, they
preach that drugs and alcohol are sins. They say they can help cure people of their addictions.’

‘And that’s where Liam ended up?’

‘Yes.’

‘So why hasn’t the local force gone in and sorted things?’

Cole glanced at his pad again before putting it back on the arm of the chair. ‘There’s a lot of money involved. I don’t know the exact details of the house and the people
inside but they have expensive lawyers. Police have been to interview the people in charge, who even admitted that Liam lived there.’

‘But . . .’

‘They said he simply left and that they haven’t seen him in weeks. Officers spoke to everyone there but the story was identical: he had started drinking again, so they asked him to
leave. That was the last they saw of him.’

Jessica stayed silent for a moment, knowing exactly where the conversation was headed. She even knew why Cole had come to her. A year ago, she would have jumped at the chance but things were
different now.

It was as if he had read her mind. ‘They’re asking neighbouring forces for a certain type of person: someone tough and streetwise, female if possible. Someone not known in their
local district. A person who can blend in, get on with people if need be but generally poke around and find out what’s going on. The key is that it has to be someone who can look after
themselves. They’ll be on their own.’

‘You want to send me in?’

‘I don’t want to do anything. Nobody knows I’m here. I know what’s happened to you over the past nine months and I’m not trying to say I understand because I
don’t. I’m simply saying I know. If you want to stay here doing whatever it is you’re doing then that’s fine. You’re on indefinite leave and we’ll wait for you
– I’ll wait. But if you want to return, this is a way of coming back without actually having to.’

Jessica shook her head. ‘What if I don’t want to?’

‘Then we’ll move on. They’ll find someone else. The crucial part is that if you’re going to do it, then you have to have a sense of self-preservation. It could be
dangerous, they need someone who’s sharp and resilient. Someone who can get themselves out at a moment’s notice if necessary.’

‘You think that’s me?’

Cole’s reaction surprised her. Jessica had been expecting him to lay a guilt trip on her, offering her a way to return to work, even though she wasn’t ready. Instead he started to
stand. ‘Actually, now I’ve seen you, no, I don’t.’

Jessica remained sitting, aware of him standing over her. She wasn’t sure why but his words felt like a rebuke, a questioning of everything she had ever done.

‘Is this about what happened with Scott and the gun going off?’

A poor piece of judgement by Jessica had led to her trying to make an arrest with her friend and colleague, Detective Constable David Rowlands. Their target pulled out a gun and fired. The fact
they had so badly misjudged what could have happened led to an official inquiry.

‘We were all cleared of that,’ Cole replied. ‘It was no one’s fault but the person who brought weapons onto the premises and the one who pulled the trigger. Besides, we
both know there’s far more to it than that.’

Jessica stood quickly, aggrieved. She glared into her boss’s eyes but he had none of the anger she was suddenly feeling. ‘Is this some reverse psychology thing? You say I’m not
up to it, so I change my mind to try to prove you wrong?’

Cole shook his head. ‘Even if it was, you’d see through it instantly, in much the way you just have.’

‘So what is it then?’

He sighed, turning up the collar on his shirt and moving through the house to the hallway where he took his coat from the banister and put it on. Jessica followed him, furious he wasn’t
replying.

‘Come on,’ she demanded, tears close. ‘What is it?’

As soon as he met her eyes, she knew. ‘I already told you – it’s about self-preservation. If the volunteer gets into trouble, they need to have the sense to get themselves out.
They have to look after themselves first. You can only do that if you’re bothered what happens to you.’

‘You don’t think I care what happens to me?’

Jessica could hear the whimper in her voice. She wanted to deny it, to shout that she
did
care, but she knew it would be a lie.

Cole watched her carefully.

‘I’m broken,’ she whispered.

He stepped forward, putting a protective arm around her. Jessica embraced him, cradling her head into his shoulder and barely hanging onto the tears.

His reply was firm and fatherly. ‘If you want things to change, sometimes you have to help yourself.’

SATURDAY

Jessica gasped as she walked into the pub, the chill of the air outside replaced by the warm orange glow and crackling of the fire next to the bar. Her footsteps creaked on the
hard wooden floor and Jessica felt people turning to face her, wondering who the stranger was. She made her snap judgements, as she always did.

There was the farmer on his own at the bar, dried mud on his wellington boots and a heavy dark green waxed jacket, ready to head out again. In a booth to her right was a middle-aged man and a
woman, refusing to acknowledge anyone else. They were no doubt having an affair and had sneaked off to this countryside hideaway, safe from the accusing eyes of their partners.

In the back corner was a couple staring at plates of half-eaten food, not talking, not doing anything other than wallowing in the broken remains of their unhappy marriage. Behind the bar, a
bored young bar girl in a too-tight T-shirt was wiping a glass with a tea towel, wiggling her pert bottom for the customers as she turned and reached to put it onto a shelf. She would no doubt be
out of this back end of nowhere and off to see the real world as soon as she had some money.

Jessica scanned the rest of the bar, looking for the person she was supposed to be meeting. She only had a name but had arrogantly assumed it couldn’t be that difficult to find one person
in such a small place.

‘Can I help you?’

The girl behind the bar had finished putting the glass on the shelf and was eyeing Jessica.

‘I’m fine,’ Jessica replied, although she had now attracted the attention of the lone farmer at the bar. She walked past him, looking from side to side and checking each booth
until she had done a full lap of the pub. When she was by the door again, Jessica took out her phone, noting that she was on time, and then called the person she was due to meet.

Her phone beeped an instant rejection.

‘You won’t get a signal around here, love,’ the farmer at the bar said, scratching the greying stubble on his chin and grinning crookedly. He had yellow teeth, with a gap at
the front where one was missing. ‘Are you looking for someone?’

‘Someone named Charlie. I’m supposed to be meeting him here . . .’

He grinned, gaze scanning across her body. ‘I can be Charlie if you want me to be.’

Jessica ignored him, starting another lap of the pub. The only men there were either in groups with other blokes, or with a female.

As she finished her second circuit, Jessica took out the note from Cole with the name, time and place written on it and checked the name of the pub over the top of the bar, just to make sure she
was in the right place. The farmer was grinning at her, patting the empty seat next to him, but Jessica ignored him, starting a third lap.

In the back corner was a woman sitting by herself reading a book. Jessica’s lack of interaction with people over the past few months made her nervous about approaching a stranger but she
didn’t have many other options as everyone else seemed to be in groups or pairs.

‘Excuse me,’ Jessica said, approaching the table. ‘Do you live around here?’

The woman looked up from her book. She was a little older than Jessica, in her late thirties, with long brown hair tied into a ponytail. She had long eyelashes and a small button nose.
Considering she was the prettiest woman in the pub, it was a surprise she was the only one by herself.