Broken (25 page)

He knew it was time to get away from the so-called safe flat. Driving into the traffic of Ilford High Street, he sat at the lights, his eyes glued to the black Granada four cars behind him. Inside were two men: one light-haired, one dark. Both in dark clothes, both nondescript in appearance.

When the motorbike came up alongside him he was not really taking any notice. He heard the roar of its engine, and as he glanced out of the window on the passenger side he registered the fact that the pillion rider was carrying a black bag and inside the black bag was what looked like a gun.

Patrick took all this in within a split second. His reactions were fast enough that when the first bullet hit him he was halfway out of the car. The second bullet caught him as he staggered and he slammed on to the road with a sickening thud.

He heard pandemonium break out before he lost consciousness, and saw a rather nice pair of legs as a young woman ran from the car behind him and, screaming her head off, dashed into the oncoming traffic. Her radio was still blaring out and Chris Tarrant’s voice was loud in the warmth of the afternoon and the quiet that had suddenly descended after the shooting.

The bike roared off quickly, disappearing into the traffic. The Granada did a U-turn and drove sedately away, its occupants ready to swear that Patrick Kelly was a dead man.

 

Kerry Alston’s mother was birdlike, with a lovely face and beautiful thick auburn hair. She smiled often, displaying small white teeth and pink healthy gums. Kate and Jenny were both surprised by her and she guessed that.

‘Kerry is like her father.’

Her voice was harsh in contrast to her features and sounded almost gravelly from too many cigarettes and too much booze. They knew she was an alcoholic. She lit a cigarette and pointed at the thick file on the table.

‘I take it you want me to go over old ground again then? I’ve already spoken to you lot twice.’

Kate looked at the hard eyes before her and remembered what Robert Bateman had said about parents.

‘Have you anything to add to what you have already told us?’ Jenny wasn’t holding out much hope and this came over in her clipped tones.

Donna Alston grinned. ‘No. She’s a little whore. Always was - her father made sure of that. Is she still spinning everyone then? You really should take a leaf out of my book where she’s concerned and throw her out with the rubbish.’

‘Yet you take care of your grandchildren. How do you equate that with the feelings you have for your daughter?’

‘You don’t know Kerry like I do,’ the woman told them. ‘Her father did some atrocious things to her, I don’t deny that. But I also have to tell you that she ran away with him time and again when he was released from prison. Kerry is a waste of fucking space and if it was up to me, her kids would live here full-time. As it is I take them in when the social workers ask me to.’

She pointed her cigarette angrily at the two police-women.

‘I would take them any day, poor little mites, but they won’t let me. “Leave them with their mother,” they say. “She loves them.” Kerry doesn’t know what love is, not real love. Not love for your kids. She sees them like her father did - as a commodity. Something to be used. I was terrified of that ponce for years, but Kerry still sees him, still has contact with him. Can you imagine how that makes me feel? Well, can you?’ She stared into their faces. ‘Knowing what he’s capable of, she takes her kids to him for holidays. But you’ll never find out where he lives from her. They meet at caravan parks and other places like that. She knows better than to let on to me where he is because if I ever find out, I’ll go there and kill him for what he did. And that’s no empty threat, ladies. One day I will have him.’

‘Where was he from originally?’

Donna shrugged again and hawked deep in her throat, making Kate want to throw up.

‘Originally from Newcastle or that way. But you can never get anything from him. Like talking to the wall. He has a southern accent these days but when I first met him he was a northerner. But then, it could have been another act. You’d have to meet him to understand what I’m talking about. Charm the birds from the trees him, and then wring their little necks without a second’s thought. But I think Kerry probably knows where he is. He keeps in contact with her, I know that for a fact. She adores him, and I mean
adores
him. She spends her whole life waiting for him to get in touch.’

Jenny placed some photographs on the table. ‘Do you recognise any of the men in these photos?’

Donna picked them up and looked at them. Kate saw her jaw tighten and her face go pale as she looked at her grandchildren and daughter in poses that definitely weren’t for the family album.

There were tears in her voice as she said brokenly, ‘No, I don’t. But then, you can’t see any faces, can you?’

They were all quiet. Only the rattling of the tape in the machine could be heard.

‘I will get those kids this time, whatever that Bateman and his cronies say. They’re victims now as well as her. Victims of their own mother, the dirty bitch! And I’ll have them off her this time.’

‘Have you any idea who the children’s fathers may be?’

She shook her head and hawked again in her throat.

‘The eldest is definitely her father’s, I don’t care what anyone says. He ain’t all the ticket either, bless him. The other could be literally anyone’s - and I mean anyone’s. She’ll fuck a table leg if told to. That’s how he trained her, see. But I think it was in her anyway. Look at me other daughter, Mariah. She had the same and she’s all right. Hates him for what he did to her. I tried to stop it all, tried my hardest. I had seventy-eight stitches where he sliced me open when I finally blew the whistle on him. Nearly died for them girls I did, but she hates me, Kerry. Hates me guts. And the feeling is mutual.’

Kate didn’t know what to say.

‘Now Mariah, she heard from her father a few years ago. Told him to fuck off out of it. She’ll tell you that herself. In and out of the nut-house she’s been, thanks to him. Cutting herself up, taking overdoses. Oh, the trouble I have had. But at least I know she felt something, do you know what I’m saying? She knew that what had happened was wrong. Not like Kerry. She seemed to thrive on it all.’

Jenny picked up the photos and held out her hand to the small woman with the tearful eyes and the inner core of steel which had obviously kept her sane through her harsh existence.

‘If you can think of anything at all, anything that could help us . . .’

Donna smiled wearily. ‘Don’t worry, you’ll be the first to know.’

 

Kate and Jenny arrived at Kate’s at a little after 7 p.m. They had been interviewing the families of the accused all day and were both tired. Kate had the Social Services files under her arm and the dragging weight was a constant reminder of what lay inside their thick covers.

As they opened the front door they were assailed by the smell of a steak casserole and looked at each other in surprise. Then Kate saw her mother’s rotund body bustling down the hallway to greet her and her mouth dropped open in shock and surprise.

‘Mum!’

‘I’ll fecking Mum you, you villain! Right fool I made of meself going to Pat’s and finding out from the housekeeper that you two were at each other’s throats. Now get your coat off and get inside here and then I want to know what the feck has been going on here while I’ve been away!’

Jenny stood awkwardly in the doorway to the kitchen and Kate pulled her inside. ‘This is my mother who’s supposed to be in Australia . . .’

‘Evelyn is the name, and you are? I suppose it’s all your stuff that’s in Lizzy’s room, is it? Well, come away in and get this down the pair of you. I made enough to feed a family of culchies!’

Suddenly the house felt like home again and Kate realised what had been missing all along. Her mother brought the place to life with her ebullient personality and her love for living. Kate wished she had inherited that from her instead of the more self-contained personality she’d acquired from her long-dead father.

‘I was fed up trying to get you on the phone so I thought to meself: if the mountain has to go to fecking Mohammed then it will. I jumped on a plane and here I am. Knackered, tired and shagged out, but still well able for likes of you two!’

Jenny was laughing in genuine amusement and Kate was glad. It was wonderful to see her mother standing in the kitchen with her apron on, her ruddy cheeks glowing with pleasure at cooking once more for the daughter she still treated like a schoolgirl.

The breakfast bar was laden down with food as usual: home-made soda bread, a thick casserole, carrots in butter and cabbage in vinegar. A real Irish dinner that would fill you up and send you to sleep with its heaviness. In the oven was a large apple pie, and home-made custard simmered on the gas stove.

‘No Lizzy, Mum?’ Kate’s voice was wary and Eve sighed.

‘Jasus, she’s well in there, Kate. Men coming out of the woodwork and herself with eyes for only the one. Pray God in heaven she makes a good match. She loves it out there and they love having her there. Sure it has to be better than what’s on offer for her here.’

Jenny picked up the underlying tension between them on this subject and helped herself to food in silence.

Kate hugged her mother tightly. ‘Oh, Mum, it’s good to have you back home, it really is.’

Evelyn pretended she was intent on tidying her neat grey perm as she said, ‘And you can tell me what happened with himself later on, after we’ve eaten. When I got to his house this morning I nearly died! Anyway, I have all your bits and pieces and I’ve put them away for you so that’s all done with. As for him, he hasn’t been near or by the house for days according to that Mary Anne he calls a housekeeper. Anyway, enough! Eat that lot and I have a nice dessert for you both and a bottle of Australian Chardonnay to sample.’

Jenny was amazed at the little woman before her; she thought she was fantastic, and as they ate, they chatted as if they had known one another all their lives. But Jenny had a feeling that Evelyn made everyone feel like that. She was so open and so obviously kind it was impossible not to like her.

‘Oh, Jasus! That eejit Ratchette phoned and said for you to ring him as soon as you got home. But wait until you’ve eaten. He sounds like a right sourpuss if ever I heard one. He can fecking keep.’

Jenny and Kate smiled at one another like conspirators. When Evelyn left the kitchen Jenny said sincerely, ‘She’s great, Kate. You’re very lucky.’

Kate was pleased and it showed.

‘I love her so much. I don’t know what I would have done without her over the years. After Dan and everything that happened . . .’

‘I wish my mother was like that. But we get what we’re given in this life and nothing can change that. Look what we’ve had to deal with at work, eh?’

‘Food for thought, I suppose. But do you believe that some people are born bad, like Kerry’s mother seems to think?’

Jenny thought about it for a second.

‘To be honest, I really don’t know, Kate. Some people seem capable of great hatred and some of great love. All this about there being a thin line between them just muddles things, I think. One thing I do know, though, is that with Evelyn as a mother, you couldn’t help but grow up well, eh?’

Kate didn’t answer her, she just smiled.

Evelyn had been a major force in Lizzy’s life too, and look what had happened to her. Kate suspected that though her mother had probably wanted to come home anyway, Lizzy was misbehaving in some way and this had spurred her on. It wasn’t anything she could put her finger on, it was just a guess. And her guesses were usually spot on where her mother was concerned.

As Eve bustled back into the kitchen the phone rang and Kate got up to answer it.

‘Let the machine pick it up, child. I haven’t seen you for five minutes and knowing that twit Ratchette you’ll be off out the door in seconds!’

They all heard his voice over the answer machine and laughed.

‘Hello, Kate. I really don’t want to tell you this over the phone, but I’m afraid that Patrick Kelly was shot today in Ilford High Street. When you pick this message up could you please ring me? My home number is . . .’

They sat together in complete silence as they realised what he had just said. Kate looked at her mother. Her lips were moving but no words were emerging. It was as if she had gone dumb. She was shaking her head in disbelief.

‘Pat’s been shot . . . God in heaven keep him safe!’ Eve blessed herself and poured Kate more wine. ‘Get that down you, you need something, girl. Then we’ll ring that fecker back and find out exactly what has happened.’

Kate was visibly shaking. It was as if her whole body was moving of its own volition. Her huge dark eyes were dry but filled with pain. Eve would have given anything to take that expression from them.

‘Who the feck would shoot your man? It’s getting like fecking Belfast in this place. Shootings and stabbings . . .’

‘Evelyn, I really think we should get Kate a doctor.’

She passed out just as Jenny finished speaking, slipping heavily to the floor. Evelyn was crying now, cradling her daughter’s head.

‘I knew it was time to come back, I had a feeling she needed me. Jesus Christ, she’ll go mad with grief. The girl will go mad with grief. If ever a pair were meant to be, it was them. They were that close.’

She was still sobbing when Jenny picked up the phone and called Leila, explaining what had happened. They wanted to keep this as quiet as possible from their colleagues. Gossip would be rife enough without everyone knowing Kate had fainted with shock. Even in her grief she would want to keep something like that private. It was the way she was made.

 

Willy woke up when someone threw cold water over him. He was already frozen.

‘Your boss is dead.’