CRIME ON THE FENS a gripping detective thriller full of suspense (11 page)

BOOK: CRIME ON THE FENS a gripping detective thriller full of suspense
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CHAPTER SIXTEEN

‘I’m knackered!’ Niall swung the cell door shut on a screaming teenage girl and leaned against it heavily. ‘I swear the girls are worse than the boys!’

Yvonne grinned at him. ‘I have to admit that one was a particularly feisty specimen.’

Niall pulled a face. ‘It would be funny, if Greenborough wasn’t becoming more like a war zone than a peaceful market town. Let’s grab a coffee before we get sent back out there again.’

As they approached the coffee machine, they saw Cat Cullen waving to them.

‘Hey, guys! Got a minute?’

‘Sure, want a coffee?’ answered Niall.

‘No, thanks all the same.’ Cat’s eyes looked abnormally wide. ‘I’ve had so much caffeine in the last twenty-four hours that there’s a good chance I’ll never sleep again! Now, what do you two know about this tasty little geezer?’

She pushed a photograph at them.

‘Oh dear, those ears make him look like the FA Cup, don’t they?’ Yvonne held the picture at arm’s length, then smiled. ‘This is Petey Redfield. Tag name, Piet. Lives on the Carborough with his married sister, Rene. Mum in Rehab, Dad in the Scrubs.’ Yvonne handed back the photo to Cat. ‘He’s no real trouble, and he has no convictions, which is something of a miracle considering his family. His only problem is that he can’t keep his grubby little finger off the nozzle of a spray can.’ She pulled a face. ‘I’ve felt his collar a few times
and
had a word with his headmaster. Shame really, his school reckon he could be a top art student. He’s got the flair and the ability to learn, but . . .’

‘Yeah, I get the picture,’ said Cat. ‘No attention at home, no parental guidance and no support. So he goes out and gets noticed by using an aerosol can. So who does he hang out with?’

‘A few other graffiti kids. No one heavy.’

Niall made a slurping noise with his coffee. ‘Actually, he’s got real talent. If I could paint like he can, I wouldn’t be hanging off a railway bridge somewhere, I’d be trying to get myself into college.’

‘Yeah, well, that’s where the difference lies, mate, and why you’re in gainful employment and he’s hanging off a bleedin’ bridge with a paint can gripped between his teeth! Got an address for the sister?’

‘43 Tennyson Buildings. Her name’s Rene Wilson,’ Yvonne replied immediately.

‘We really don’t need a Police National Computer with you around!’ said Niall shaking his head incredulously. ‘Is there anyone you don’t know in Greenborough?’

‘I don’t know who abducted Kerry Anderson, and that’s the only name we really need, isn’t it?’

‘And that of whoever killed the other girl,’ whispered Niall. ‘Is it true she was wearing one of those rat-masks when they found her?’

‘Seems that way,’ said Cat. ‘But no one is talking about it, so I suggest you belt up and keep it to yourself.’

‘This one has a very big gob,’ muttered Yvonne. ‘One day it’ll get him into deep shit.’

‘Nah!’ Niall grinned broadly. ‘I’m just enthusiastic, that’s all. Now, if you’ve finished that drink, let’s go nail some bad guys!’

Yvonne raised her eyes to the heavens. ‘Any room in your department, Cat? I’d pay good money to get in! In fact . . .’

‘Collins! Farrow! Get your arses into that car of yours! There’s been a serious attack on a youngster.’

‘Where, Sarge?’ called out Yvonne, as she ran towards the door.

‘Just around the corner, in the recreation ground by the river.’

‘Show us committed, Sarge! We’re on our way!’

* * *

‘Do you think Leonard can be trusted, ma’am?’ Joseph perched on the edge of Nikki’s desk.


I
trust him. If he says he’ll help, then he will.’ Nikki sipped her coffee, then glanced at her watch. ‘Shit! I need to be at the hospital.’

‘Shall I come with you?’

‘No, Sergeant. It won’t take two of us for this miserable job. And I’ll try to grab a private word with Archie after he’s seen Lisa Jane.’ She stood up and grabbed her jacket. ‘You catch up with Cat and check out the graffiti kid lead. Go find him if you want, although I doubt he’ll be sitting at home playing Scrabble with granny.’

‘Probably not, but I’ll give it a try, ma’am.’

‘And if you can’t find him, ride around the estate, see how many new artworks have sprung up with a connection to the masks.’ She paused at the door. ‘Then get yourself home and grab some sleep. Today has had its fair share of traumatic moments.’

Joseph looked at her intently. ‘Will you be all right seeing Lisa Jane again? I’ll go, if it helps.’

‘I’ll be fine. It wasn’t the girl that upset me, Sergeant.’ She thought for a moment, wondering how much of herself she was prepared to share with this unusual man. ‘It was just that whole scenario. That gloomy half-light, the filth everywhere, the . . .’ she shuddered, ‘. . . the way her hair fell.’ Then she knew that she’d said enough. Maybe too much. She shook her head trying to rid herself of the horrible returning memories of Emily Drennan’s death. ‘In the mortuary, it won’t affect me at all. And if I keep Archie waiting, we may not have a deal anymore.’ She moved quickly out of the door, then called back, ‘And nice one with Archie, by the way. I’m sure he realised that it’s very much in our own interests to keep the news of the death of a gangster’s girl quiet, but you put it over beautifully, even I believed that you were only thinking of him!’

She flashed a rare smile, and raced off down the corridor.

* * *

Joseph went to his desk and logged on to his computer.

‘Got that info you wanted, Sergeant.’

He looked up to see Cat grinning down at him. She was a strange one, but take away the tarty clothes, the make-up and the spiky hair, and there was something almost childlike and appealing about her.

‘Great! What do we have?’ Joseph took the photo and the print-out that she was handing him.

‘Just a freaky kid really. His sister looks after him, and she’s clean, too. It’s the parents you don’t want to meet. Two really nasty characters. One’s inside and one’s drying out.’

Joseph skimmed through the history, raised his eyebrows in surprise over the kid’s school report, then said, ‘Fancy paying Rembrandt here a visit? I need to know if this latest masterpiece was his idea, or whether someone paid him to do it.’

Cat pulled a face. ‘Sorry, Sarge, but I’m stuck here waiting for news on the mask factory.’

‘Oh well, I’m getting to know my way to the Carborough by now. Thanks for this, anyway.’

‘Pleasure.’ She gave him an elfin smile and went back to her desk.

Joseph closed his computer. He really should get over to the estate, but if he were honest, he was worried about his new boss. He’d seen panic attacks before, he’d even experienced a couple in the past, but the DI’s had been a bad one, and he wondered what the hell had happened to her.

Joseph abruptly stood up. Whatever it was, it was not his business. No way should he be prying into Nikki Galena’s nightmares. He had enough of his own to deal with. He pushed his chair under his desk and grabbed his car keys. He couldn’t put off his trip to the Carborough any longer. He called out a brief goodbye to Cat, then made his way down stairs.

As he passed the station desk the duty sergeant called out. ‘Excuse me! Is DI Galena still around?’

‘Sorry, no. She’s at the hospital.’

‘Oh, now that could be advantageous. We’ve got something that I think she should see.’

‘Can I help?’

‘There’s been an attack on a young boy. He’s in a pretty serious condition.’

‘On the Carborough?’ asked Joseph.

Jack Conway shook his head. ‘No, not far from here. There’s a kid’s recreation ground down by the river. A dog walker found him in the bushes. I thought the DI should know because from what my officers report from the crime scene, it’s mask-related again.’

‘Oh, what a surprise!’ Joseph puffed out his cheeks. ‘Look, best not to ring the inspector, she’s carrying out an identification so she’ll probably have her phone switched off. I’ll go down to the hospital and tell her myself then we can go directly and check on the victim.’

‘That’s fine, sir,’ said Sergeant Conway. ‘If it’s no trouble.’

‘Do we have a name for the boy?’

‘Not yet. He had no identification on him.’

‘And what’s the mask connection?’

‘He was wearing one.’ Jack Conway’s expression darkened. ‘And I’m afraid that’s all he was wearing, sir. He’d been stripped.’

Joseph gritted his teeth. ‘Poor little sod! How old do your officers think he is?’

‘Hard to say, he’s taken one hell of a beating. Maybe twelve, thirteen?’

‘What the hell is going on here?’

Jack Conway looked almost grey with tiredness as he shook his head and said, ‘I wish I knew, Detective Easter, I really do.’

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

As night fell, Nikki and Joseph sat outside the Intensive Care Unit and waited for news on the unidentified boy.

‘Why don’t you go home and get some sleep, ma’am? I’ll ring you if there’s any change.’

Nikki yawned. ‘Tempting, but I need to be here.’

Joseph stared through the glass section of the door at the small figure on the hospital bed. Tubes snaked everywhere around his thin body, and to Joseph, the child seemed almost overpowered by the bank of monitors and equipment that surrounded him. ‘I don’t think that lad will be talking to anyone for a while.’

‘I agree, but in the absence of a mother or a father . . .’ she left the sentence unfinished and he filled in the gaps.

Joseph flopped down on the chair next to hers. ‘I drove through the estate on the way here, ma’am. There is more Mask Wars graffiti, but not as much as I’d expected, then I saw they were all courtesy of Petey Redfield.’ Joseph stretched and leaned back, his hands interlocked behind his neck. ‘He’ll probably be out there again tonight, so maybe,’ he sat forward again, ‘if you are dead set on doing the night watch here, guv, why don’t I go over to the estate and try to nab the little shit, spray can in hand?’

‘Not a good place to be after dark, Sergeant. Especially on your own.’

Joseph gave her an exasperated look. ‘Believe me I’ve been in far worse places than that! And on my own is how I like it.’

Nikki said nothing for a moment, but Joseph knew that she would agree with him in the end. There really was little point in both of them wasting time in a hospital waiting area when they needed to be out finding Kerry, and Lisa Jane’s killer.
Or,
considering that they seemed to be tied up with everything; something concrete on those damned masks.

‘Okay,’ she said finally. ‘But if you get into trouble, don’t bank on the wooden tops bailing you out. They are still out searching the marshes for Kerry Anderson. And we’re pretty thin on the ground even for routine stuff, so . . .’

‘I’ll go careful, I promise, ma’am. And if I find anything of interest, I’ll come straight back and fill you in, okay?’

‘Oh, bugger off, Sergeant, I can see you’re itching to meet up with Piet and his paint cans. Just nothing gung-ho, you hear?’

Joseph tried to look affronted. ‘Moi?’

‘Yeah, you.’

* * *

On his earlier trip, Joseph had earmarked four possible targets for spray paint boy. Each area was moderately hidden from prying eyes, and each offered a nice blank canvas for Petey’s gaudy graphics.

Leaving his car parked well away from the danger zone, Joseph changed his shoes for a pair of black trainers, and slipped on a black zipper jacket with a deep hooded collar. There was no point in making himself obvious. He’d just blend.

The air around him felt heavy. Like when a thunder storm was imminent. He hoped it would hold off, as a downpour would not provide the greatest conditions for decorating the council’s exterior walls. And he would dearly like to meet young Piet.

With his hood pulled up, he sauntered silently through the streets in search of his four likely spots. On the third, he got lucky.

He did not so much see his mark, as hear him. That singular sound of a can being shaken. The tinny rattle of the bearing inside was unmistakable.

‘Perfect,’ he whispered, as he slid like a shadow along the side of a darkened building. He was careful, because there could be a whole gang waiting around the corner, but somehow Joseph doubted it. If money was at the heart of Petey’s new venture, he probably wouldn’t want to share it. Not only that, graffiti kids usually worked solo. He just hoped Petey was a loner.

For a while, Joseph hung back in the darkness and watched the artist at work. If he hadn’t been defacing public property, Joseph would have been full of admiration.

Petey Redfield worked on stilts. The sort you see plasterers wear to enable them to reach higher without the use of ladders. They strap to the legs and give the arms freedom of use.

Very neat, thought Joseph, although probably not too clever if you need to make a run for it. The kid worked fast and with considerable skill, it was almost a shame to interrupt him. But as the guv’nor had already said, this was not a nice area to hang around in, so he really needed to deal with young Petey as speedily as possible.

‘Evening, Mr Redfield, not quite good enough for the Academy, but close,’ Joseph grabbed a firm hold on the boy’s wide belt. ‘’Fraid I need a quiet word.’

‘What the fuck . . . ?’

Without another word Joseph yanked him backwards, caught him, and laid him on his back on the ground.

‘Just a few words, then I’m going to disappear into the night, and you can continue to paint the town red, or sky-blue-pink, for all I care.’ He tightened his hold and Petey yelped.

‘Okay! Okay! You the Fuzz?’

‘Not tonight.’ Joseph leaned over the boy. ‘Now, I really don’t want to hurt those talented fingers, but if I have to, I can arrange it that you never paint again, unless you use your toes, of course. Catch my drift?’

‘I said, okay, man! What do you want?’

Joseph caught a strong whiff of sweat. Petey was scared, and he had every right to be. Only Joseph knew that he had no intentions of hurting him. With a boy like this, the simple suggestion that he might, should do the trick.

‘Now, how much are you getting paid to do this?’

The boy swallowed. ‘Not enough.’

Joseph smiled. ‘Probably not. But now that we’ve ascertained that you
are
getting paid, I asked how much?’

The boy thought for a moment, but sensibly decided not to be a hero. ‘A hundred smackers a night, for three nights.’

‘And as many walls as you can cover, I suppose?’

‘Yeah.’

‘And who is it that is willing to cough up £300 for a bit of graffiti?’

‘No idea, and before you break my fingers, that’s the God’s honest truth.’

Joseph nodded. ‘Funnily enough I believe you. So how did you get the money?’

The boy shifted uncomfortably, but Joseph just leaned a little closer and stared intently at his long, narrow fingers. ‘Come on, Petey. Tell me, and your sweet little pinkies will live to paint another day.’

‘Okay, but just get away from my hands, man! I dunno when, but someone shoved a Griffyx into my school bag.’

Joseph was startled to hear the name being used, but kept his interest hidden under a blank expression.

‘There were two fifties stuffed inside it, and a note telling me to scribe a wall with the words ‘Mask Wars.’ If I did it, and promised to go out for three nights, I’d get two hundred quid more.’

‘Nice work if you can get it! And how did they get the remaining money to you?’

Petey shivered. ‘I found it on my bed when I woke up this morning. Some freaky creep had gotten into my fucking room and left it there.’ He pulled a face. ‘That’s why I’m out here now. No way am I going to piss off someone like that. They are seriously scary people, so I really need to get on.’

‘Patience. You can, just as soon as you tell me where the tag ‘Griffyx’ came from?’

‘Check out Lyco’s blog and follow the link to the game, then you’ll see. Now, please, mate, can I go earn my money?’

Joseph helped the boy up, then raised both hands in the air and stepped back. ‘Go do what you have to, Petey. But keep away from those guys, whoever they are. I get the feeling that they would be happy to do far worse than break a few fingers.’

Petey Redfield stared at him. ‘Who the hell are you?’

Joseph pulled up his hood and started to walk away. ‘No one, son. I was never here, and I never saw you or your aerosol cans. Just lock your doors at night. It would be a real sin to waste all that talent.’ He glanced over his shoulder and called back. ‘And I like your tag. Fan of Mondrian’s ‘Wall Works,’ are you?’

Petey was adjusting his stilts, but he stopped and looked incredulously at Joseph. ‘Most people think I can’t even spell my own name. I dunno who you are, man, but respect! You’re the first one to make the connection.’

‘Your teacher reckons you’re a smart kid with a passion for Bauhaus. You could go far, Petey. Do yourself a favour and use your new wages to buy some art books and maybe a proper canvas.’

As he slipped back into the shadows, he heard the familiar rattling sound, and he smiled to himself.

* * *

Back at the station, Joseph found the office empty, but as he switched on his computer, his mobile rang.

‘Joseph? DI Galena. Look, if you were planning on coming back to the hospital, I’ll be getting away shortly.’

‘How’s the kid?’

‘Not good. He had some sort of fit. They’ve got him on a respirator.’ She paused. ‘It wasn’t nice to watch, Joseph, I can tell you.’

He thought about what she must have gone through with her own daughter, and knew that it could not have been easy for her. ‘No, I’m sure it wasn’t, ma’am. So, are you going home?’

‘Shortly. As I’m here, I’ll call in on Hannah for a few minutes, then I’ll go grab some sleep. I suggest you do the same.’

‘I’ve one more thing to do. Petey gave me a lead on the Griffyx. I’ll check it out, then go back to my digs for a few hours kip.’

‘I’ll be calling a meeting for the whole team at 9 a.m. tomorrow. Bring whatever it is that you come up with, and I’ll see you then. Goodnight, Sergeant, and don’t work too late. Remember what you told me, we need to stay sharp.’

‘Roger. Night, ma’am.’ Joseph closed his phone and turned to the computer. Now, what was it? Lyco’s blog and follow the link to the game?

He tapped the name into the search engine, yawned, and went to the coffee machine.

On his return he found 1,890 results, and decided that he should have been a little more thorough in his interrogation of young Petey. He hadn’t even clarified the spelling. With a sinking feeling, he sipped the hot coffee and tried again.

After fifteen minutes searching, he found what he was looking for. And quickly came to the conclusion that the link had led him to just the kind of game site that parental control locks had been invented for.

Joseph started to play, but soon gave up, made a few scribbled notes, then shut down the computer. It may be clever, in a macabre, puke-making kind of way, but the bit he’d seen both turned his stomach and made him boiling angry. Tomorrow he’d pass it over to Cat. She’d handled this sort of crap before, and if the Griffyx was there, she’d find it. Well, he sincerely hoped so. Because they were getting nowhere fast, and Kerry Anderson was still missing.

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