Behind Closed Doors (Season One: Book 7) (Jessica Daniel) (24 page)

Jessica was about to return to her own bed when the door swung back open. Moses was standing there, offering his most kindly and charismatic smile.

‘Do you think we can have a chat?’ he asked, not waiting for a reply and closing the door behind him.

Jessica knew she couldn’t refuse but she certainly didn’t want to be alone in a bedroom with him.

‘I did my best to calm her down,’ she said, starting to stand.

Moses ran a hand through his beard, nodding. ‘I know you did.’

Jessica moved across to the window, using the police cars as a reminder to herself that there were people downstairs she could cry out for if she needed to.

Moses crossed to Jessica’s bed, running a hand along the smooth sheets and sitting within touching distance of where her phone was hidden under the mattress. He patted the spot next to
him. ‘Come.’

On a list of things Jessica wanted to do, sitting next to Moses on anyone’s bed, let alone hers, was very low but she knew she could not resist. She took one last glance out of the window
towards the cars, hoping Moses recognised that she could scream any time she wanted, and then joined him.

She sat awkwardly with her hands in her lap but he shuffled closer, placing a hand on top of hers.

‘It’s been so good having you here these past few days, Jessica,’ he said.

Jessica hated the way he spoke her name. He made the middle letters sound like a hiss in a poor attempt at being affectionate. She didn’t even know what he was talking about. She had been
there barely four days and contributed next to nothing.

‘Thank you,’ she replied.

He moved a little nearer, putting the other arm around her. He was so close, she could feel the lower strands of his beard tickling the top of her head.

‘I know you must be anxious about speaking to the officers downstairs but I will ensure that all of you are looked after. They know they are only in this house through the good grace of me
and my wife. We haven’t even called our lawyers in this time. None of our brothers and sisters will be harmed.’

‘That’s reassuring,’ Jessica replied, trying not to let the cynicism invade her voice.

Moses moved even closer, moving the hand that had been in her lap up her body and stroking her hip.

‘I thought we should probably talk about what you saw when you were in the garden.’

Jessica’s first thought was that he was referring to the time she had broken into his office, wondering how he knew, before she realised he was talking about Wayne being assaulted.

‘What you saw happening to our brother Wayne was perhaps a little misleading,’ he added, his hand sliding higher. ‘I think it would be unfair to mention that, especially in
relation to Glenn.’

There he was again. Moses was doing this to cover for him. Downstairs, Glenn had filed off like everyone else, now Moses was telling her to keep his influence quiet.

‘I’m not sure what you mean,’ Jessica replied, wondering how much she could get out of him.

She instantly wished she’d said nothing, as Moses’s hand slipped further up her body until it was brushing the side of her breast.

‘Glenn told me what happened in the gardens when they discovered Wayne had been drinking. He says things got a little out of hand because Wayne was shouting in your direction. He said he
was worried about what Wayne might do to you, which is why he stepped in.’

It was such an outrageous rewriting of what had happened that Jessica had to stop herself saying so. As she swallowed the words, Moses’s hand moved across to the front of her chest,
cupping her breast entirely.

Jessica clamped her jaws together, trying to calm herself.

‘I can feel your heart beating quickly,’ he added.

It’s because I’m being indecently assaulted.

Jessica didn’t reply at first, not trusting herself. Two more breaths through her nose and she finally found the words. ‘I suppose I’m a little worried about what they might
ask me.’

Lies.

‘But we’re clear now about what you thought you saw in the garden? Glenn only ever has other people’s best interests in mind.’

‘I know.’

‘You have to realise we are trying to create better people here. Sometimes things happen that outsiders would not understand.’

His other hand dropped down from her shoulder as he shuffled sideways, sitting behind her, cupping both of her breasts. Jessica closed her eyes, curling her toes, biting her lip, knowing she
could stop this at any moment. She hated Charley for putting her in this position, hated herself for accepting it and, most of all, hated Moses for believing he was entitled to treat people in this
way.

Moses leant in, his lips close to her ear. ‘If the wrong things get said, bad things could happen.’

He squeezed her roughly as he spoke, leaving her in no doubt about what he meant.

‘I understand,’ Jessica said, unable to stop herself trembling.

Moses finally released her, standing and smoothing his clothes. ‘Good, that’s very good, Jessica.’

He reached a hand down to help her up from the bed. ‘It’s your turn next, so perhaps we should go downstairs.’

Jessica tried to stand but her knees were like jelly. She supported herself on one of the posts around the bed, Moses hooking a hand underneath her armpit. She shook him off, before remembering
the role, thanking him for his help but saying she was feeling all right. He wasn’t fooled and, for a moment, Jessica saw the real Moses, or Jan, or whatever he called himself. He smiled at
her, knowing exactly what he had done. He was manipulative, dangerous and a sexual predator. One way or the other, before she left the house, Jessica was going to make sure he regretted ever laying
a hand on her.

Jessica pushed open the door to one of the smaller rooms attached to the main entranceway next to the front door. She almost gasped in relief as she saw Charley sitting on her
own there, pad of paper on the table in front of her.

Charley shook her head a fraction, telling Jessica not to speak, then extended her hand.

‘Good morning, my name is Detective Chief Inspector Charley Bailey. I’m sorry for disturbing you all. Hopefully we will be able to get through this quickly and then get out of your
hair.’

The door was pulled closed, leaving just the two of them. Jessica opened her mouth but Charley again shook her head, sitting and writing on the pad before spinning it around for Jessica to
read.

They may be listening.

Jessica glanced up to the ceiling. It was something she had never considered. In among the receipts, she hadn’t seen anything for monitoring equipment but she hadn’t checked
everything and it wasn’t inconceivable. The bedroom she shared with Heather surely couldn’t be bugged, else they would have heard her talking on the phone. That didn’t mean the
main work room and other areas like this weren’t being listened in to. Moses’s warning that bad things could happen implied he would know if something was said that he didn’t want
getting out. Jessica assumed it was bravado but perhaps it was more.

Now she nodded to say she understood.

‘What’s your name?’ Charley asked.

‘Jessica Compton.’

‘Good, Jessica, and how long have you been here?’

‘Four days.’

‘Wow, is that all? You’re the newest person we’ve spoken to so far.’

Jessica reached forward, taking the pad and the pen. As she gave some vague description out loud of how she had been recruited by Zipporah, she wrote:

I am going to fucking kill Moses if this isn’t over and done with soon.

Charley’s eyes widened as she read, writing her reply quickly:
Do you need out?

No. I’ll deal with it.

What happened?

Jessica snatched the pen back, underlining
I’ll deal with it
so hard that the paper ripped.

Charley spoke aloud: ‘So how have you enjoyed your four days?’, at the same time tearing off the top sheet of paper and folding it, putting it in her jacket pocket.

It had been less than a week ago that they had first met but it felt like so much longer. Jessica still couldn’t get over her story: moving to the middle of nowhere on a whim, with no
friends, no family. She so wanted the other woman’s bravery.

‘It’s been wonderful,’ Jessica said, before launching into a string of reasons why the house was the greatest place she had ever been associated with.

Wayne’s body found in Manchester
, Charley wrote.

Where?

Under bin bags. Dustmen nearly took him. Horrific injuries.

Jessica took the pen, hovering over the pad, talking slowly about her week for the benefit of anyone who could be listening. That’s what someone’s life meant – being dumped
under bags of rubbish and a second or two away from becoming landfill.

How did you know it was him?

Tattoos on his upper arms matched our records + matched DNA.

Why there?

Charley shook her head, taking back the pen.
Bodies found in woods/rivers, etc = link to here as last place seen. Bodies found in their home city = they returned home
.

Jessica finished talking about how life-changing it was to eat together and read the note, thinking it just about made sense. If you buried or dumped a body, there was always a possibility it
could be found and this would be the last known link. Wayne had been homeless before being recruited and had been left in the back streets where he spent years living. Liam was the same – at
least twice a year someone drunk and/or high on drugs was pulled out of the canal. There was still a degree of suspicion but this at least gave everyone at the house plausible deniability. If it
hadn’t have been for Liam’s family knowing he had come here, the police would have been none the wiser.

That did give Jessica something to think about:
How did you know Wayne was here?
she wrote.

Charley nodded towards her, mouthing: ‘You,’ adding out loud: ‘And have you seen anything that could be described as untoward since you arrived?’

Jessica frowned, writing:
How did you tell THEM you knew he had been here?,
before insisting that everything was family-orientated and things were just perfect.

Charley shook her head, taking back the pen.
Use your imagination. We made something up
.

Jessica peered at the last line, annoyed. She could have figured it out for herself but she wanted to know exactly what the story was, desperate to feel in control. She reached across, trying to
snatch the pen and glaring at Charley, who was busy talking about Wayne’s background.

Charley pulled the pen and pad away, widening her eyes as if she was silently scolding a child.

How could they get the body away from here?
she wrote, handing back the pad and pen.

Jessica put them down and simulated driving, acting as if someone had cut her up and sticking her middle finger up to the invisible driver.

If someone wanted to treat her like a child, then she’d act like one.

Charley shook her head, saying out loud: ‘This is getting us nowhere, Jessica, there must be more to it than that.’

If anyone was listening, it sounded as if she was talking about Jessica’s apparent ignorance of anything involving Wayne but Jessica knew what she really meant, giving her a thin
antagonising smile.

Minibus
, she wrote.

Who drives it?

Glenn / Ali.

Ali?

Some guy who works outside. Asian.

Charley nodded, tearing off the sheet and folding it tidily into her pocket again.

Jessica was busy talking about Wayne working outside, saying that she had never seen anything strange about him. She kept hold of the pen, pulling the pad back, writing:
People here last
night – throwing stones, etc. Dark/hoods
.

Charley read it, nodding again.
Locals.

Why?

Charley shrugged, holding up her hands to indicate the room.
Jealousy? Something different? It’s a bit Wicker Man around here.

Jessica couldn’t stop herself from smiling. Charley winked and suddenly Jessica felt foolish for acting so immaturely.

‘You’ve not been very helpful,’ Charley said, flicking her eyes towards the ceiling in case Jessica was in any doubt about who she was saying it for.

‘How dare you,’ Jessica replied, hoping someone was listening, considering the performance she was putting on. ‘You come in here, trampling over our beliefs, with your stupid
hair.’

Charley’s grin shrunk as she tugged a strand of her hair, pointing at it.

‘This is no time for personal insults,’ she said, then asked Jessica if she had ever heard anyone mention Liam Renton.

Anything else?
Charley wrote.

A basement.

Where?

Jessica pointed to the floor, smiling, and it was Charley’s turn to stifle a laugh.

Under stairs
, Jessica wrote.

Jessica feigned thinking about whether she had heard of anyone named Liam, making a humming noise for the benefit of the recording device she wasn’t even sure was there.

What happens there?
Charley wrote.

Some kid Kevin was beaten for having a phone
.

Charley’s eyes widened, realising what that could have meant for Jessica.

‘I spoke to some young man named Kevin in this room,’ Charley said. ‘He was covered in cuts, bruises, stitches, all sorts of things. He reckons he got them by slipping and
falling down the stairs. What do you say about that?’

Jessica nodded towards the word ‘basement’ on the pad. ‘If he says he fell, then he fell.’

‘You didn’t see anything else?’

‘No.’

‘I’m going to read off a list of people we know reside here and I want you to tell me what you know about them.’

As she spoke, Charley pointed to the word ‘basement’, writing next to it:
Can you get in?

Jessica shook her head, while replying ‘yes’ to Charley’s spoken question and almost confusing herself. All she needed now was to try to pat her head and rub her stomach at the
same time and it would be like being in primary school again.