Justice for the Damned (21 page)

When Doctor Meadows emerged from behind the curtains, Reece accosted him. ‘What’s the story, Doctor?’

‘I’m sorry, Mr Geary, you’ll have to speak to your father.’

Reece felt a flash of irritation, but didn’t push the issue. Doctor Meadows had sworn an oath that bound him to the duties of his job, just as Reece had. Only, unlike Reece, the doctor was obviously intent on keeping his oath. ‘Can you at least tell me whether he’s fit to go home?’

‘He can go as soon as his discharge forms have been sorted out.’

Thanking the doctor, Reece stepped through the curtains. His dad was getting dressed. Reece waited silently, knowing there was no point attempting to convince him to tell him what the prognosis was. Once his dad had made up his mind, there was no changing it. He studied his dad’s face for any indication of whether the news was good or bad. But he could read nothing in his dark eyes. A nurse brought the discharge forms. After signing them, they headed to Reece’s car. The journey passed in silence, until Frank said gruffly, ‘Stop sulking, Reece.’

‘I’m your son,’ Reece shot back. ‘Don’t you think I have a right to know if you’re going to live or die?’

‘No, I don’t.’ Frank stabbed a finger at his chest. ‘This cancer is mine. And I’ll deal with it. It doesn’t concern you.’

‘How can you say that?’

‘Easy. I just open my mouth and the words come out.’

Reece shook his head at the facetious remark. ‘How the fuck Mum put up with your bullshit for so many years, I’ll never know.’ The words took Reece by surprise as much as they did his dad. He’d thought them a thousand times before, but never dared voice them.

Frank’s mouth drew into a scowl. ‘Unlike most people these days, your mother understood the meaning of love and loyalty.’

Reece gave a short, harsh laugh. ‘If love and loyalty mean letting someone beat the shit out of you for forty years, you can fucking keep them.’

Frank’s right hand shot out and grasped his son’s jacket collar. His other hand curled into a fist. Reece hit the brakes, forcing the car behind to swerve sharply. He twisted towards his dad, but made no attempt to break free of his hold. ‘Go on then.’ His voice was bland and taunting. ‘Hit me. That’s what you’re best at, isn’t it? Hitting people you know won’t hit back.’

Frank’s eyes burned. His fist twitched as if he was about to prove his son right. But instead he released his grip and, as a fit of coughing took hold of him, pressed his hands to his mouth. The coughing continued for a minute or so. When he drew his hands away, their palms glistened with blood-threaded saliva. ‘Take me home,’ he croaked, wiping his hands and mouth on a tissue.

Reece accelerated back into the flow of traffic. To his surprise, he felt as calm as a windless lake. In the past, whenever he’d thought about standing up to his dad it had always brought on waves of anxiety. Frank stared out the window, lips pressed into a tight line.
Who’s sulking now?
thought Reece.

When they arrived at the house, Reece’s calm was disturbed by the sight of Jim’s car.

‘Is that Jim Monahan?’ Frank wondered aloud, a note of unease in his voice.

‘Yes,’ said Reece, pulling into the driveway.

‘What the hell does he want?’

Reece made no reply. Before getting out of the car, Frank cleared his throat and drew his broad, thin shoulders back. A kernel of sympathy opened inside Reece. His dad was plainly embarrassed for his old colleague to see him in such a state. His voice a little too loud and cheery, Frank called to the approaching detective, ‘Hello, Jim, it’s been a long time.’

Smiling, Jim extended his hand. ‘Too long.’

A frown wrinkled Frank’s face as he accepted the handshake. ‘Christ, you look bloody awful.’

‘You don’t look so great yourself.’

‘Yeah, well I’ve got cancer. What’s your excuse?’

‘Heart attack.’

Reece frowned too as he took in Jim’s haggard features. It had only been a few days since he’d last seen him, but everything that had happened between then and now had clearly taken a toll on his health. ‘Are you sure you shouldn’t be resting?’

‘Thanks for your concern, Reece, but I’m fine.’ Even as he spoke, Jim swayed on his feet. He put out a hand and steadied himself against Reece.

‘No, you’re bloody not,’ said Frank. He jerked his thumb at the house. ‘Let’s get him inside.’

Wrapping a muscular arm around Jim’s back, Reece helped him into the house. Jim dropped heavily onto the sofa. With an unsteady hand, he pulled out a blister strip of tablets. ‘Get him some water,’ Frank said to Reece.

Frank lowered himself into his armchair, looking at Jim with concern and curiosity. ‘You should be in hospital.’

‘Bugger that.’

‘I know how you feel. I can’t stand those places either.’ Frank chuckled. ‘Christ, look at us. Some of the nastiest bastards in South Yorkshire used to fill their pants at the sight of us. They’d laugh in our faces if they saw us now.’

Reece returned with the water. Jim thanked him and knocked back a handful of tablets. They sat in silence for a moment, while a little colour seeped back into Jim’s face. ‘Do you want a cup of tea?’ asked Frank.

Jim shook his head. ‘I’m not supposed to have caffeine.’

‘And I’m not supposed to have cigs. But that doesn’t stop me.’

‘Dad, you really should listen to the doctors,’ Reece said, in the tone of weary rebuke he’d come to use whenever discussing his dad’s cavalier attitude to his illness.

Frank scowled. ‘Bollocks. No doctor’s going to tell me what I can and can’t do.’

‘Do you mind if I talk to Reece alone?’ asked Jim.

‘You mean you didn’t come here to see me?’ Frank said, with an expression of mock hurt. Grinning, he stood and left the room.

‘Big Frank Geary,’ said Jim. ‘He’s not changed a bit.’

‘Except he’s not so big any more.’ Reece’s tone wasn’t unfriendly, but neither was it particularly friendly. ‘So what do you want to talk about?’

‘A missing prostitute.’

Reece’s stomach dropped like a stone in water. He kept his expression carefully blank. ‘What—’

‘Before you say anything else,’ cut in Jim, ‘you should know that I’ve spoken to Vernon Tisdale.’

Fucking Vernon
, thought Reece.
So much for not telling anyone.
He waited for Jim to continue.

‘You should also know that it was Alan Dobson who told me you’d been to see Vernon. So you’ve got no reason to feel pissed off at Vernon. He was reluctant to say anything until he found out that, like you, I’m acting on my own.’

‘The DCI doesn’t know about you speaking to Vernon?’

Jim shook his head. ‘As far as he’s concerned, I’m still in hospital.’

Relieved but still cautious, Reece said, ‘So Alan Dobson contacted you.’

‘No. I contacted him for the same reason you did. Here’s the thing, Reece – and I’m putting myself on the line telling you this – I’m going after someone I believe to be connected to the recent murders. I don’t have any hard evidence against this person. All the same, I know he’s guilty and I’m going to bring him down no matter what it takes.’

No matter what it takes.
The words were uttered with a peculiar, almost unnerving intensity. They seemed to Reece like a warning and a challenge. This case had obviously become a personal obsession for Jim. And that made Reece uneasy. It also filled him with a kind of awe. He wished he had the same passion for the job. But he didn’t. The only thing he’d ever really felt like that about was Staci. ‘Is that someone Freddie Harding?’

Jim shook his head again. ‘It’d be a hell of a lot easier if this was just about Freddie Harding. But I’m afraid it’s much more complicated than that.’ He narrowed his eyes speculatively. ‘You don’t seem all that surprised by what I’ve said.’

‘That’s because I’m not.’ Uncertainty flickered in Reece’s eyes, then faded. There was little point in not telling Jim about Amber. It was all going to come out soon enough anyway. ‘A witness has come forward. A prostitute who was abducted by Freddie Harding in the early nineties and taken to the Winstanley House.’

So I was right about there being a new witness
, thought Jim. The realisation brought both excitement and apprehension. It was obvious now that Forester and Harding had met and exchanged a lot more than simply tales of their upbringing. But was Reece aware of Forester’s involvement? As Reece recounted Amber’s story, it became clear he wasn’t. Jim’s mind raced through the implications of what he’d learned. Freddie Harding might be the key to breaking the entire case. That much was obvious. What wasn’t so obvious was how to get enough leverage to make him spill about who else was involved in what went on at the Winstanley house. No court was going to convict Harding on the testimony of a prostitute who’d kept her ordeal to herself for over twenty years. Not without hard evidence to back it up.

‘Why did this Amber come to you?’ asked Jim. He waited for an answer, until it became obvious Reece wasn’t going to give one. ‘I take it from your silence that you’re worried your answer could get you into trouble. And I’m not going to lie to you, it could. I’m guessing that this Amber is the one who asked you to look into the missing prostitute. And that you didn’t go to Garrett because you’re involved with her in some way.’

Reece struggled to keep his expression from betraying the turmoil inside him. Jim’s guess was too close to the mark for comfort. ‘The DCI knows about Amber.’

Jim’s eyebrows lifted. ‘He does?’

‘That’s why I thought you might have spoken to Doug. I told him about Amber earlier today and he’s going to the DCI.’ Reece paused as if to consider carefully what he was about to say. ‘He’s going to keep my name out of it.’

‘What about this missing girl Melinda? Does Doug know about her?’

‘Yes.’

‘So I assume he’s going to tell Garrett about her as well.’

‘No.’

Jim frowned. ‘Why not?’

Because that would mean involving Staci, and I can’t allow that to happen
, thought Reece. But he said nothing.

Jim’s probing brown eyes studied Reece. His gaze fell briefly to Reece’s grazed knuckles. He gave a little nod as if something had occurred to him. ‘I think I understand what’s going on here. This isn’t just about protecting your career. There’s someone else you haven’t told me about, isn’t there? Someone you want to keep out of this.’

A steely glimmer came into Reece’s eyes. ‘I think I’ve said all I want to say to you, Inspector Monahan.’

‘Fine. But think on this, Reece. By not telling Garrett about Melinda, you might be condemning her to death.’

‘I don’t think so. If Freddie Harding’s involved in her disappearance, I think he’ll lead us to her. I followed him from his house in Mexborough yesterday. He was heading down the M1 into Derbyshire.’

‘Derbyshire,’ said Jim, as if to confirm he’d heard right. But he was speaking to himself not Reece. And he was thinking,
Southview is in Derbyshire.

‘It was the middle of the night. My gut told me he was up to no good, but…’ Reece trailed off abruptly.

‘But what?’

‘Something important came up. I had to break off from tailing him.’

Jim wondered whether the ‘important’ thing had something to do with whoever Reece was protecting. The steeliness was gone from his eyes. In its place, there was an awkward, almost guilty glimmer that made Jim ask himself,
Is it simply that he’s involved with a prostitute, or is there more to it than that?
Whatever the case, Reece was clearly deeply conflicted. Jim decided not to press the matter, knowing Reece would simply clam up on him again. ‘Is there anything else I should know?’

‘I don’t think so.’

‘You showed Vernon a photo of Melinda. Can I see it?’

Reece’s forehead creased with indecision. ‘It wouldn’t do you any good. Besides, I’ve done everything that can be done to find her.’

‘You’ve not done everything. I guarantee you that.’

Jim’s statement carried the authority of over three decades in the job. There was no denying the truth of it. Reece took out his phone and brought up Melinda’s photo. ‘She went missing eleven days ago. Apparently, there have been rumours on the street for years that someone’s been abducting and killing girls. The word is Melinda’s fallen victim to the same killer. When I told Doug, he directed me to Vernon.’

‘Can you text me that photo?’

‘Sure.’

‘Where did Melinda live?’

‘I… I’m not sure.’ Reece stumbled slightly over the lie. Melinda had lived with Wayne Carson. And Reece didn’t want Jim going anywhere near Wayne. ‘But I can find out.’

‘Then do so. There might be some form of ID there with Melinda’s surname. Of course, the easiest thing to do would be to get hold of something with her fingerprints on it. If she’s been working the streets for a few years, there’s a good chance her details are in the system.’

‘How am I supposed to do that without giving the DCI the heads up?’

‘With great difficulty. I’d do it for you myself if I wasn’t on sick leave.’

Reece pressed a finger to his forehead. A throbbing ache was growing behind his eyes. ‘I’m sorry but, like I said, I’ve done what I can. This is someone else’s problem now.’

‘Bollocks it is.’ Jim’s voice was hard with reprimand. ‘You’re a copper. That means Melinda’s your problem. And if you don’t see that, you’re in the wrong line of work.’

‘Maybe I am.’

‘I’d like to disagree with you, but from what I’ve seen I’m inclined to think you’re right. You care, that much is obvious. But your head’s all over the place. And in this job that can end up costing lives.’ Jim’s eyes faded away from Reece as his mind returned to Amy lying on the pavement, blood bubbling from her throat. Shaking his head as if to throw off the memory, he refocused his gaze. ‘Do you realise you haven’t even asked me who I’m going after?’

‘I didn’t think you’d tell me if I did.’

‘You’re right about that. You may have told me what I wanted to know, but you’ve been far from straight with me. I don’t know what you’re mixed up in, Reece, but it seems to me you’ve got a lot of thinking to do about who and what you want to be.’

Reece’s face clouded. Jim was right. He felt as if the job, Staci and Doug had hold of him and were all pulling in different directions. The strain was growing too much for him to bear. Sooner or later, he knew, something would have to give. Still, Jim’s preachy tone irritated him. ‘It seems to me I could say the same thing to you.’