CRIME ON THE FENS a gripping detective thriller full of suspense (15 page)

‘I’m sure you’re right, but why do I still feel so guilty?’ Nikki looked out through the glass. ‘At last! Leah’s giving us the thumbs up. We can go see the boy.’

* * *

‘He’s sleeping naturally now, and his breathing is fine,’ said the sister, her fingers gently pressing on the boy’s pulse. ‘You can stay with him until he wakes up again.’

‘Has he spoken, Leah?’

‘Just to tell us that his name is Mickey. He knows that he has been attacked, that’s all so far. His throat is naturally sore from the tube.’

‘He gave you no surname?’

‘No, he stuck at Mickey. And strangely, he didn’t ask for his parents.’

Nikki looked down at the sleeping boy, and her heart went out to him.

Half his face was a mottled purplish, red, with a long row of stitches and steri-strips holding together the torn flesh of his cheek. His corn-blond hair was still streaked with drying blood, and a wide band of dressing covered the bridge of his nose. Whatever reflection the lad had seen in the mirror that morning, had gone for ever.

Leah O’Keefe saw her looking at the child’s face. ‘We’ve let the maxillofacial surgeon take a look at him, and luckily his jaw is okay. Plastics will sort that scar out later, although he’ll always have a mark there.’

‘Sounds as though a scar should be the least of his worries,’ remarked Joseph grimly. ‘He’s lucky to be alive.’

‘Maybe that depends what his life is like in the first place,’ Nikki mused. ‘Whoever did this is still out there, maybe waiting to finish the job.’

‘That’s if Mickey here was actually the target, and not just a wrong place, wrong time kid.’

‘Sorry, Sergeant, but something tells me my theory is the correct one. Now, pull up a chair and we’ll wait and see, shall we?’

Mickey slept for half an hour, and when he came round and saw his two visitors, he remained abnormally quiet. His frightened eyes darted from one to the other, but he said nothing.

‘You’re not in trouble, Mickey. Honestly.
You
are the victim here, so you can talk freely to us, I promise,’ said Joseph.

‘Absolutely,’ added Nikki. ‘We just want to get the people who did this to you. They have to be punished for hurting you.’

‘We only want to help you, Mickey, do you understand?’

The wild eyes continued to dance around, as if he were looking for a way out of the small room, but still he refused to speak.

Nikki sat back, trying not to crowd or intimidate him. He’d been through too much already to wake up and find himself pressured by a couple of pushy strangers. ‘What’s your surname, son? I’m sure that your parents are worried sick about you.’

For the first time Mickey showed some sort of expression. And it wasn’t one of pleasure. Through split and bruised lips, he rasped, ‘That’s a laugh! They couldn’t give a flying fuck about me.’

Nikki sighed with relief, at least he was fully aware of his situation, even if it wasn’t a good one.

‘Come on, Mickey. We have to let your mum know where you are,’ said Joseph amiably.

‘You’d have to find her first.’ He shifted uncomfortably, then groaned in discomfort. ‘Shit! My ribs!’

‘Just lie still. The doctor will give you some more pain relief soon. Now, if you’d just tell us your name.’

Mickey closed his eyes and said nothing.

‘Do you know who did this?’ asked Joseph.

The boy didn’t reply.

‘Because sadly, until we get some answers from you, we are just going to have to sit here and bug you.’ He smiled down at the lad. ‘And we possess endless patience.’

Still Mickey chose to keep silent, but after a while, he sighed shakily, and Nikki noticed a tear creeping slowly down his cheek. ‘Please go away and leave me alone.’

‘We can’t, my love,’ said Nikki gently. ‘Just let us help you.’

‘I’m scared.’ His voice was small, and all vestige of his earlier bravado had disappeared.

‘We won’t let anyone hurt you again, Mickey. We’ll have someone with you, day and night.’

‘It won’t matter. He’ll get me, even if you had a bloke with an Uzi outside my door, he’d still get me.’

‘Who is
he,
Mickey?’

‘I’m not saying.’

Nikki and Joseph looked at each other, then Nikki nodded and indicated her head towards the door.

Joseph reached across and very gently touched the boy’s hand. ‘Okay, you need some rest now, Mickey. You sleep, and we’ll come back later. And there will be two police officers outside your door until you’re well enough to move. Understand?’

The boy gave an imperceptible nod, then closed his eyes.

As Nikki and Joseph left the room, she saw the tears begin to flow, and his narrow chest rise and fall with soft sobs.

‘Poor little sod. He’s exhausted.’

‘And terrified.’

Nikki’s eyes narrowed, ‘With good reason. He knows his assailant, and he knows he hasn’t finished with him yet.’ She closed the door. ‘I want our best officers on duty here, with no sneaking off for a fag break or spending ten minutes in the bog. This kid needs us to give him one hundred per cent.’

Joseph nodded. ‘And he’ll get it. With your permission, I’ll take the first shift, ma’am, and if anyone wants to hurt him, they’ll have to get through me first.’

Nikki agreed. ‘Right, then I’ll go back and organise a rota, and I must check out any progress being made on Kerry.’ Her face hardened. ‘I don’t want to think like this, but with every hour that passes, I fear the worst for that poor kid.’

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

‘I’m holding off the media-fest, but I don’t know how long I can keep Lisa Jane’s death secret.’ The superintendent paced restlessly up and down his office. ‘Have you spoken to Archie?’

Nikki leaned against the wall with her arms folded. ‘I’m going to see him when we’ve finished here.’

‘Where’s your sergeant?’

Nikki grinned. ‘It’s okay, I haven’t bought him a single ticket back to Fenchester. He’s at the hospital, with Mickey.’ She chewed on her lip. ‘I think the boy may respond better to Joseph, kind of like a man-to-man thing.’

The super stopped pacing. ‘Is it my imagination, or are you and Sergeant Easter,’ he stopped, almost scared to voice the words, ‘getting on?’

‘I’m saying nothing, sir, But I do concede, there is more to the man than the mess room gossips would ever dream of.’

Raising his eyes upwards, the super said, ‘So, there is a God! Hallelujah!’

‘Whoa! Don’t count your chickens, sir. There’s still plenty of time for him to right royally piss me off.’ Her smile faded. ‘The thing is, time’s running out for Kerry Anderson, and frankly, we both know the gravity of that. I’d make the effort to work alongside Vlad the Impaler if it meant we found that missing girl.’

‘I know Nikki, and I won’t hold you up. Keep me posted on all levels, okay?’

‘Yes, sir. Oh, and we need a Victim Support Officer allocated for Mickey. He’s terrified, and I want exactly the right person to get the best out of him.’

‘Okay, let me know when you’ve assessed him, and I’ll sort that out.’

Nikki thanked him, then went to the CID room to find Cat. What she found when she got there was an empty room and a memo telling her that Kris Brown was in the foyer waiting for her.

‘Wonders will never cease!’ she muttered to herself, and ran down the stairs.

* * *

‘No, Inspector. I’ve never heard of either of those women. Are they missing too?’

Kris Brown looked haggard. He had three days stubble on his face, and his eyes were red and sore.

Nikki stared at him and tried to decide whether his rough look was due to honest concern, or guilt. Finding no sure answer, she sidestepped his question about Lisa Jane and Frankie Doyle, and continued with her interview.

‘And do you know of a student, a guy named Lewis?’

‘Lewis is another third-year on the photography programme. He’s a pod neighbour to Kerry.’

‘You’ve met him?’

‘Once or twice when I’ve been visiting the Hub.’

Nikki looked down at her notebook. ‘He said you’d been mugged. Is that true?’

Kris looked up with interest. ‘Yeah. But how . . . ?’ He shrugged and answered his own question. ‘I suppose Kerry must have told him.’

‘And did you report it?’

He shrugged again. ‘No point. I wasn’t hurt. And although they nicked my wallet, it didn’t have much in it, and I found it again, in the gutter about 100 yards down the road.’

‘Would you recognise them if you saw them again?’

‘Oh sure. Attractive faces, part rat, part cadaver, I’d say. I’d recognise them anywhere.’

Nikki’s mind raced. Was it just another mask-related petty crime, or was there a connection somewhere, between the masked gangs and Kerry’s abduction? Whatever, she was in no mood for Kris Brown’s sarcasm. ‘Don’t be clever with me, Mr Brown,’ she hissed. ‘In case you’ve forgotten, your little friend is still missing, and I’d rather be spending my time looking for her than listening to your snide digs! Now stick to answering the questions, all right?’

‘Sorry.’ Kris looked as if he were about to cry. ‘But I’m as worried as you! I’ve been to
every
place that we used to go together.
Every
place that she liked for atmospheric pictures.
Every
place that I can think of. I’ve walked half the length of the coastline, and nothing! I’m exhausted, but as you say, she’s still missing, and I
have
to find her.’

His outburst caught Nikki off guard, and for the first time, she wondered whether Kris Brown was genuine.

She thought for a moment, then changed the subject. ‘Where did a young bloke like you get the money for all that super-fancy star-gazing equipment?’

He frowned. ‘If it’s any of your business, Inspector, that’s what happens when someone dies and leaves you twenty grand in their will.’

‘Very nice!’ said Nikki. ‘That really enabled you to indulge in your pastime on a grand scale, didn’t it?’

When Kris spoke, his voice was cold and his words clipped. ‘Oh sure, it’s very nice. But frankly, Inspector, I’d rather have my father back. Now, are we done?’

* * *

Nikki met Archie in a small café on River Walk. He sat at the back, concealed from the windows, and stirred an over-sized cup of cappuccino.

‘I hoped to be handing you your Fluke character on a plate, but it seems I was wrong.’ Archie’s face darkened. ‘My boys have been up more blind alleys than you could believe. And,’ he paused and gave her a long pondering look, ‘I hate to tell you this Nikki, but one name has cropped up rather regularly as the family have been making their enquiries.’ He sipped his coffee, winced, then tore the top from another packet of sugar and tipped it in. ‘A name you won’t like.’

‘I’m supposing it’s Frankie Doyle,’ said Nikki sombrely.

‘You suppose correctly.’

‘In what context does she appear.’

‘Well, my sister-in-law Margaret tells us that Doyle visited Lisa Jane a few days before she went missing.’

‘I didn’t know they were friends,’ said Nikki, unable to keep the surprise out of her voice.

‘They weren’t,’ said Archie, his jaw set forward. ‘We’ve had nothing to do with that piece of shit since we found she was responsible for your daughter’s, uh, unfortunate accident.’

‘My daughter’s attempted murder, you mean?’

Archie nodded sadly. ‘How is she?’

‘Some days I think there is improvement, and others, well, you know.’ She drew in a breath, she didn’t want to think about Hannah right now. ‘But back to Frankie Doyle, does she still live on the Carborough? She slipped off our radar a few months ago, then I was told she was back and running with the big boys.’

‘She will never run with the big boys. She’s evil, but she’s not clever. She’s a maverick, a disturbed one. No one with any sense would trust her.’ He frowned. ‘And I’m sure she’s not living around here anymore. One of my nephews is trying to get you an address. If he succeeds, I’ll ring straightaway.’ He took a big gulp of coffee. ‘Do you have anything for us?’

Nikki told him about Mickey, but did not mention that the boy had regained consciousness. She trusted him, but still knew when to be tactful.

‘If he’s the boy I’m thinking of, he’s not the luckiest kid on the block. He’s an only child, and takes the brunt of his father’s drunken rages. His mother, as I recall, spends more time with her sister in Peterborough, than she does at home.’

‘What’s the boy’s surname, Archie?’

‘Smith.’

‘And where does he live?’

Archie thought for a moment. ‘Cavendish Buildings. Not sure of the number.’

‘Thanks. Let’s just hope he pulls through.’ She leant forward and lowered her voice. ‘We may have a lead on the masks, or at least something about the name they’ve given them.’

‘Ah, the Griffyx.’

‘That’s the one. Our techies are checking out some violent porno computer game, there’s a definite link, and they’re trying to trace its inventor. We know he’s local, and he stole some poor unsuspecting website designer’s identity to do it.’

‘Sounds probable, it’s just the sort of thing some of the young yobbo’s around here would love. Anything brutal, vicious or nasty.’ He shook his head. ‘I think I’m getting old, Nikki. I don’t have the stomach for all this anymore.’

‘You never did, my friend. Well, not gratuitous violence for the sake of it.’ She smiled at him. ‘As you rightly said, you needed brains to get to the top, not just skill with a flick knife. But I really have to go. We’ll speak later.’

She stood up and pushed her chair back under the table. ‘Take care, Archie.’

‘And you, Nikki. Especially if Frankie Doyle is back.’

* * *

The 4 p.m. meeting brought them no closer to finding Kerry, and the enquiries regarding the elusive Fluke were inconclusive, in fact there was considerable disagreement between the reports.

Afterwards, Nikki sat with Joseph in her office and tried to make sense of it.

‘Conflicting descriptions, and nothing concrete at all,’ Nikki grumbled. ‘I’m beginning to wonder if this Fluke is a figment of our collective imagination.’

‘Mm, the Carborough’s own urban myth.’ Joseph absent-mindedly picked a speck of fluff from his jacket sleeve. ‘And it’s frustrating to only have an out of date picture of Frankie Doyle. Young women, and please excuse the generalisation, have a tendency to follow fashion and alter their appearance every time they step outside.’

‘No offence taken. I totally agree with you. Our Cat is a prime example. What I find amazing is that a wicked bitch like Frankie has managed to stay out of our clutches for so long.’

‘Maybe she decided not to dirty her own doorstep. She could be working another county, under a different name.’

Nikki wasn’t convinced, but left it there. ‘How did you get on with young Mickey Smith after I left?’

Joseph’s face lit up. ‘I reckon that boy will open up a treat. I didn’t push him, but he’s starting to relax with me. And I get the feeling he could be a chatterbox, which would be useful.’

‘Who’s with him now?’

‘Two wooden tops, until I get back. I promised I’d get him a couple of his favourite comics and drop them in when I finish.’

‘I need to get a dedicated Victim Support Officer over there soon. Got any ideas about who would be suitable?’

‘I’ll sound out his relationship with his family, then we’ll see what he needs, if that’s okay?’

Nikki nodded. ‘Well, I’ve just received the preliminary post mortem report on Lisa Jane from your pet pathologist, so I’m going to be tied up for a while. Rather than hanging around like a bad smell, why don’t you get yourself back to the hospital?’

Joseph stood up. ‘Sure, and if he tells me anything interesting, I’ll ring you.’

‘You do that,’ said Nikki, opening the folder. ‘And by the way, what
are
Mickey’s favourite comics?’

‘’Fraid it’s the
Beano
and the
Dandy
. It seems not all twelve-year-olds are the violent thugs we believed.’

‘Excuse me, but have you ever taken a good look at Denis the Menace?’

‘Not for about twenty-five years,’ Joseph grinned. ‘But I’m secretly hoping to get a sneaky peek before I give them to Mickey. Bye.’

As he left, Nikki smiled. If anyone was going to get Mickey Smith to talk, it would be her new sergeant.

* * *

By eight o’clock that evening Detective Sergeant Joseph Easter and Master Michael Nathan Smith, were on first name terms. Joe, as he now was, had read both comics to his captive audience, and although he wouldn’t have admitted it, thoroughly enjoyed himself. Mickey had hardly noticed the carefully interspersed questions about himself, and as the boy dozed for a while, Joseph summed up what he had discovered.

Dysfunctional family with a father who used his fists when he’d had a drink, and the benders sometimes lasted for a week. Mother regularly disappeared, apparently to a sister, but from the way Mickey spoke, Joseph suspected she actually went to other arms for comfort. No siblings and Mickey was very young for his age. Joseph wondered if he was trying to use his status as a child to protect himself from his father’s violent outbursts. That, or he was just not terribly bright.

He stared at the battered child in the hospital bed. It was strange, because kids who were treated badly often grow up quickly, learn fast to fend for themselves. It was a bad world out there and they needed to survive. It seemed that Mickey had gone the other way.

‘Sergeant?’ The sister in charge beckoned him to the door. ‘We are happy that he’s stable enough to move him from this unit now. His observation can continue in less frightening surroundings. We would appreciate your help with the transfer.’

‘Where is he going, Sister?’

‘There’s a private room in the general surgery ward. It’s next to the nursing station and would provide plenty of privacy, but also it would be easy for you to watch him.’

‘Sounds perfect. What floor?’

‘Top floor, Sergeant.’

Joseph nodded. ‘Even better. When is this going to happen? I need to keep my boss up to speed.’

‘In about an hour. The Bed Manager is breathing down our necks, I’m afraid.’

‘Fine. I’ll ring in, then tell my colleagues here what we’re up to.’ Joseph looked at the sister. ‘Sorry to ask this, but did all of your tests on the lad come back okay?’

The woman’s lips tightened. ‘We wouldn’t be moving him if we were not completely happy, Detective.’