Blood Rush (Lilly Valentine) (19 page)

The man didn’t answer but Annabelle remained where she was, staring in his direction. Finally, she nodded and turned again. Behind her, the Mercedes’ engine gunned angrily and the car shot away.

When Annabelle reached the porch, she spotted Lilly.

‘I didn’t see you there.’ She couldn’t hide the tremor in her voice.

‘Is everything okay?’ Lilly asked.

‘Everything’s fine.’ Annabelle reached into her pocket for her key but, when she put it in the lock, Lilly saw her hand shaking.

Once inside the kitchen, Annabelle made tea. She breathed deeply as the teacups rattled in the saucers. Something was very wrong. Lilly glanced at her watch again, she simply didn’t have time to worry about it now.

‘Leave that, Annabelle,’ she said, ‘and sit down please.’

Annabelle gave a tight smile and did as she was told. She smelled strongly of cigarette smoke and she held the edge of the table with both hands.

‘I’ve made another application for bail,’ Lilly said.

‘That’s good.’

‘It is,’ Lilly agreed. ‘The only problem is, it’s been listed this afternoon.’

Annabelle’s eyes widened.

‘So I need to get all my evidence together immediately,’ said Lilly.

‘I gave you all the paperwork.’

‘I know, and it is all very helpful, but nothing can beat the
personal
touch.’

‘Such as?’

‘You.’ Lilly paused to let the idea sink in. ‘I want to put you in the box to tell the judge what sort of set-up you have here and how well Tanisha is doing.’

Annabelle gulped and ran a hand through her hair till it stood on end. Lilly tried not to notice.

‘I need you to explain exactly how Tanisha has changed and how you’re helping,’ said Lilly. ‘Can you do that?’

‘Yes.’ Annabelle’s voice was shrill.

‘Why not write it all down and have a practice?’ said Lilly.

Annabelle nodded and Lilly eyed her nervously. This wasn’t how she’d pictured things at all.

‘I have to go now and try to dig up as much muck as I can on Chika Mboko,’ said Lilly. ‘I’ll meet you at the Crown Court at four.’

‘Fine,’ Annabelle whispered, and Lilly left her still holding on to the table as if her life depended on it.

* * *

‘How does she do it?’ The chief super shook his head in disbelief.

‘Black magic,’ Jack said.

The chief frowned. ‘This isn’t a laughing matter, Jack. Getting a case listed on the day of the application is unheard of.’

Jack didn’t argue but leaned against the top of the chair
opposite
the chief. It wheeled away from him, making him bend in an awkward manner. What could he say? He’d never understood how Lilly managed most of the things she did. Black magic wasn’t far from the mark.

‘Call the CPS and make sure we get a decent barrister on to this,’ the chief barked. ‘I don’t want some part-time solicitor from the Luton branch screwing this up.’

‘Right.’

‘And what about the Mboko girl? Do we have a statement yet?’

‘It’s been the weekend, sir.’ Jack knew it sounded lame.

‘Then you’d better track her down, Jack.’ The chief pointed at him. ‘By hook or by crook we need her.’

The air in the office smelled thick and peppery. Lilly sniffed and smacked her lips.

Karol looked up from a bowl and smiled. ‘Egusi soup. You want?’

‘I do.’ Lilly puffed out her cheeks. ‘But sadly I don’t have time.’

Karol looked her up and down. ‘You don’t seem like a woman who would turn down home-cooked food.’

‘You mean I’m fat,’ Lilly laughed.

‘Not at all.’ Karol gave an appreciative grin. ‘Where I am from we like some meat on the bones.’

Lilly patted her stomach. ‘Plenty of that here.’

‘Go and start your work.’ Karol waved her away. ‘I will heat some soup for you.’

At her desk, Lilly picked up the phone and steeled herself as she dialled the number. Kerry Martin picked up on the first ring.

‘Hello.’

‘I’m just checking you know about the hearing this afternoon,’ said Lilly.

Kerry didn’t respond immediately and Lilly could hear her breathing down the receiver.

‘Yes, I know about that,’ Kerry said slowly.

‘That’s good. I just wanted to ask you to bring a few things to court.’

‘Such as?’

‘Chika Mboko’s statement of course, and a list of her previous convictions. In fact any information you have on her, I’d like.’

Kerry sighed. The noise swished into Lilly’s ear.

‘It isn’t a trial, Lilly.’

‘I didn’t say it was.’

There was another pause and Lilly could just make out the faint tapping of computer keys.

‘I’ll bring the previous but if you want anything else you’ll have to ask Social Services,’ said Kerry.

Lilly banged down the receiver as Karol entered the room carrying a bowl of soup. Steam rose into his face.

‘Problem?’ he asked and placed it in front of Lilly.

She screwed up her nose. ‘I need info on a witness but the
prosecution
are playing silly buggers. I can try Social Services but it takes them a bloody week to answer the phone.’

He shrugged and gestured to the soup. Lilly took a spoonful. The sweet taste of oxtail, followed by the punch of spice, hit the back of her throat.

‘This is fantastic.’

Karol smiled and placed a yellow Post-it note on Lilly’s desk. His handwriting was round and neat.

‘You beauty,’ Lilly yelled.

‘Good news?’

Lilly took another celebratory mouthful of soup. ‘I might not be able to get anything out of the CPS or Social Services, but the Bushes is another story.’

She let her fingers fly through the Rolodex Karol had set up for her and pressed in the numbers.

‘The Bushes,’ came the reply.

‘Miriam, it’s Lilly Valentine.’

‘Oh my God, I thought you were dead.’

‘Like Mark Twain before me, rumours have been greatly
exaggerated
,’ Lilly laughed.

‘So how are you, girlfriend?’

‘Long story, Miriam, but I need a favour.’

‘Naturally.’

‘I need to know everything there is to know about Tanisha McKenzie and Chika Mboko,’ said Lilly.

‘Why don’t you just apply for the files?’ Miriam asked.

‘Cos I’m in court this afternoon.’

‘Naturally.’

‘So what do you say? Can you help?’

‘Get your arse over here and I’ll see what I can do.’

Jack hammered on Chika’s door for a second time. When there was no answer he opened the letterbox and peered inside.

‘Chika, move your backside and open up now,’ he shouted.

There was no response, no movement inside. In frustration, he thumped on the wooden frame again and the door next to it flew open.

‘For Christ’s sake, knock it off, will you.’ A young woman in her early twenties glared at him. ‘It’s obvious they ain’t in.’

She was wearing a velour tracksuit and her hair was pulled tight in a ponytail on top of her head. A stud glinted in her tongue as she spoke.

‘How can you be sure?’ Jack asked.

‘Because you’ve been out here banging for God knows how long.’ She nodded inside with her head. ‘You’ll have the baby awake if you carry on.’

Jack thought about Alice and how it was when she cranked up. ‘Sorry.’

The young woman sniffed and went to close the door.

‘I don’t suppose you know where I can find Chika?’ Jack called after her. ‘It’s urgent.’

He expected the door to shut in his face, but instead the young woman peered around the gap.

‘What’s she done this time?’

‘Nothing. I just want to speak to her.’

The woman snorted. The residents of the Clayhill Estate believed nothing they were told. Especially if the person doing the telling was a copper.

‘Seriously, I just need a word.’ He knew he was losing her. ‘What about the mother?’

There was a grating sound as the woman ran the metal in her tongue against her top teeth.

‘You ain’t telling me
she’s
in trouble?’

‘Like I say, I just want a wee word.’

She squinted at him, trying to weigh him up. At last she sighed.

‘She’s in the lift, cleaning it out.’

‘What?’

‘You heard me.’

‘But why?’

The woman stuck her chin out at Jack. ‘Cos some dirty bastard puked up in there and Mrs Mboko’s one of the few decent people left around here.’

With that, she slammed the door as if he could never
understand
. In truth, he knew he never would.

Jack wandered to the end of the walkway to the lift. When he’d arrived earlier, he’d bypassed it and headed straight for the stairs. They were always out of order and even when they weren’t you wouldn’t pay your worst enemy to put a foot inside.

The doors were being kept open with a brick on either side and a large black woman was mopping the floor. The air stung the back of his throat with disinfectant.

‘Mrs Mboko?’

The woman looked up at him briefly, but immediately returned to the steady rhythm of the strokes of her mop.

‘I’m Jack McNally.’ He flashed his badge.

She reached the end of the mop into the far corner and ran it along the edges in a square movement.

‘I need to find your daughter.’

Mrs Mboko finished another circuit of the perimeter, then placed her mop in the bucket. With a grunt she bent for the handle.

‘What makes you think I have any idea where she might be?’

‘You’re her ma.’

‘And you are the police,’ she squeezed her bulk past him, ‘so you know full well that I have no control over Chika.’

Jack watched Mrs Mboko move slowly down the walkway to her flat. The water sloshed over the side of the bucket, splashing her leg.

‘She’s not in any bother,’ Jack called.

Mrs Mboko didn’t stop, but Jack caught the flinch in her shoulders.

‘Quite the opposite,’ he continued. ‘In fact she’s been helping me out.’

Bucket still in hand, Mrs Mboko turned. There was a glimmer of something in her eyes. Hope, maybe.

‘You know the girl who was beaten? She was called Malaya Ebola,’ Jack said.

‘I know the family very well. Her grandmother and I go to the same church.’

Jack thanked the god of lucky policemen. ‘Well, your girl is making sure that we put the person who did that behind bars.’

Mrs Mboko placed the bucket on the ground with a heavy groan, water pooling around her feet, and stared at him in disbelief.

‘I just need to know where she is,’ said Jack.

There was a clear choice for Mrs Mboko. Protect herself from yet another disappointment or drop her defences.

Tears shone in her eyes. ‘The café on the corner of Queen Street.’

Jack watched her walk away, her tread slow, wet shoes leaving footprints on the concrete.

The front door was open as Lilly screeched into the car park of the Bushes Residential Home for Children. She double-checked her central locking had kicked in. She’d spent enough years
visiting
care homes to know that most of the kids living there would nick anything not nailed down. And for the rest, they’d bring a claw hammer.

Miriam came out to greet her. ‘Look what the cat dragged in.’

She’d aged in the last three years, grey hair sprouting from her scalp to the edge of her extensions, her forehead furrowed with lines. Some things, though, never changed; Miriam still wore her Birkenstocks, despite the frost.

She held out her arms and enveloped Lilly. Another thing that never changed.

‘I heard you had a baby.’ Miriam smiled, her teeth large and white.

‘Can you believe it?’ Lilly laughed. ‘The oldest swinger in town.’

Miriam pushed Lilly aside playfully. ‘Tell me what you need.’

‘I represent Tanisha McKenzie.’

Miriam clicked her tongue three times. ‘I thought you weren’t doing this work any more.’

‘Don’t you bloody start.’

Miriam cocked her head to the door. ‘Let’s get out of the cold and I’ll see if I can help.’

Inside her office, it was as if Miriam had never been away. The room was jammed with papers and the computer entirely circled by Post-it notes. Lilly moved a pile of files from a chair and took a seat.

‘So what do you know, Glasshopper?’

Miriam perched on the end of her desk. ‘Tanisha stayed here on and off between foster placements.’

‘And?’

Miriam opened her arms. ‘And what can I tell you? The mother never got in contact and the poor kid had no other family. Eventually she got in with the wrong crowd.’

It had the inevitable familiarity of a fairy tale. Without the happy ending.

‘What about Chika Mboko?’ Lilly asked.

‘Truth?’

Lilly nodded.

‘She had everything going for her. The mother seemed to genuinely care,’ Miriam let out a long sigh. ‘But somewhere along the line that kid got seriously damaged.’

‘Violent?’

Miriam bit her top lip, thoughtful. ‘She was one of only a
handful
of kids I was ever really scared of.’

Lilly sucked in a breath. Miriam had been a social worker for fifteen years and had run care homes for another ten. Lilly had seen her slotting herself between two crack-deranged teens brandishing knives at one another. She’d seen her holding a
six-foot
lad in a headlock, while the ambulance arrived to take him to the secure wing of a mental hospital.

‘So what’s the story between Chika and Tanisha?’ Lilly asked.

Miriam raised her arms then let them drop to her sides with a slap. ‘Who knows? They were as thick as thieves, shared a room here and everything. When their key worker landed them a foster placement together, they were cock-a-hoop.’

‘What happened?’

‘Neither of them would ever say. The foster-carer reported that it had something to do with a stolen phone but I never bought that,’ Miriam said.

Lilly nodded. Miriam’s instincts about kids in care were rarely wrong.