Locked In (33 page)

‘I doubt it. I’ve only been following where you lot have been, talking to the same people and so on.’

‘Maybe...’ Garry took out his first notebook but as he did the doorbell went.

‘Curry,’ Jessica said.

‘Oh right.’

‘Don’t worry, I got you something mild and wimpy. Thought it seemed your style.’

Garry shook his head slightly but then answered. ‘Yeah, you’re probably right.’

After Jessica returned with a grease-soaked paper bag and some forks from the kitchen, Garry opened his first notebook. Jessica had a peek at the contents just in case she could make out a name that could be his source. The journalist clocked her doing so. ‘Their name isn’t written here, y’know.’

‘Whose?’ Jessica replied with a half-smile.

Garry just nodded and started to talk her through some of the people he had spoken to and what they had said. Jessica knew she probably shouldn’t but, given she was now off the case, she filled in some of the blanks for him. He asked if he could make new notes on what she had told him. ‘Okay, fine but only because you brought wine.’

They ate as they worked. Jessica had gone for the hottest chicken dish on the menu but Garry had struggled with his mild lamb meal. Jessica laughed at him while he just told her she stank. It seemed like a childish insult but, on this occasion, was probably true.

The journalist spoke about Stephanie and Ray Wilson and how Stephanie hadn’t had too much to say but had genuinely seemed disturbed by the loss of her friend. He said the husband had phoned the paper every day for the week afterwards just to remind them that he and his wife were available for photographs if the paper needed them.

As he got to his notes about the meeting with Jessica herself, he veered off to tell her about the pressures he was under and how his career hadn’t really turned out the way he had hoped. He talked about his Editor and how sales were affecting all of the staff and that, until the last few weeks, he had been thinking of quitting. He already would have done if it wasn’t for the money. ‘What else would you do?’ Jessica asked.

‘Dunno really. Write? I have no idea. It’s not easy to just drop everything. You don’t want to end up going back to your parents to admit you’ve made a right mess, do you?’ Jessica couldn’t disagree with that point.

Garry told her about his meeting with Marie Hall and the way he had been bullied into buying a whole host of drinks to get any details about Wayne Lapham. Jessica admitted she hadn’t known who the woman was before but just laughed at Garry’s pub story. Then they both dissolved into giggles when he spoke about the dressing gown the woman had been wearing. ‘Was it peach?’ Jessica asked.

‘Eew, yes. She hadn’t fastened it completely either.’

‘Oh God, you couldn’t see...’ Garry hadn’t answered but the look on his face had just made Jessica explode with laughter. She went to put the empty food cartons in the kitchen and get the other bottle of wine Garry had brought. By now she was feeling decidedly tipsy but refilled both of their glasses and let the journalist continue.

‘Then I finally ended up speaking to you,’ he said, flicking through pages and pages of notes. ‘You were very, erm... revealing.’

Jessica felt a bit embarrassed remembering her phone confessions to him. ‘You took advantage of a distressed young woman, Garry. You should feel ashamed of yourself.’

‘Young?’

‘Oi, you cheeky...’ For the second time that evening Jessica playfully punched her guest in the shoulder.

‘How did you end up talking to Kim Hogan?’ Jessica asked as Garry opened another notebook.

‘It was an accident, really. I was at the house talking to the neighbour who was spilling everything. The other girl had just stormed up and started swearing at the both of us.’ Jessica thought that sounded familiar. ‘Anyway, I said that she could put her own version across if she wanted. She asked if there was money involved...’

‘Really?’ Jessica interrupted.

‘Yeah. Sometimes people are just like that, no matter what the circumstances are.’

‘Did you pay her?’

‘Just gave her twenty quid. It was all I had on me. I ended up walking back to the office because I didn’t have anything left for the bus.’

‘Doesn’t the paper pay for things like that?’

‘You must be joking. You’re lucky if they pay for notebooks and pens, let alone anything else.’

‘What was she like?’

‘I’ve had worse interviews but not many. She was okay really but it was hard for her. There was just lots of swearing. She hates your lot, kept going on about kids bugging her mum and how you never did anything.’

‘What about Paul Keegan?’

Garry let out a massive sigh. ‘It was horrible that. I didn’t want to knock on his door but the Editor just basically told me to do it. I thought the guy would tell me to get lost but instead he just invited me in and went to put the kettle on. It was surreal.’

Jessica had thought that the whole time she had spoken to Paul Keegan. She could see that inside his heart was broken but outside he was almost normal. Some people in the force would see that type of behaviour as how guilty people acted. She just thought everyone was different but she did wonder how he was really coping behind closed doors, especially with what had happened regarding his stepson.

‘He just talked and talked,’ Garry added. ‘He said they had only been married a few years ago. He showed me all the photos and then told me everything that ended up in the article. He was a really nice guy. Told me to call back if I wanted to check anything then phoned me the day of the article to say “thanks”. He said he was going to keep the paper and reckoned it was a perfect tribute to her.’

‘Poor guy.’

‘Yeah I know. I felt so sorry for him. You don’t know what to say, do you? He said they’d had problems with kids in the area but he thought your lot had done your best. Bit of a difference to Kim and Marie.’

Garry gave a small laugh but Jessica didn’t. ‘Hmmm,’ she said.

‘You all right?’

‘Yeah, just too much of this,’ she said holding up an empty glass. ‘Shall we call it a night? I’ll even pay for your taxi.’

‘It’s okay. I reckon I’ll get another story out of the bits you’ve told me. “Senior source”, yeah?’

‘Source.’

‘Whatever.’ Garry packed his things back into his bag and gave a little wobble as he stood up. Jessica could feel the alcohol inside her too. She walked him to the door and found herself giving him a little hug as they said goodbye. She thought his cheeks had reddened slightly afterwards but it could have been the booze for him too.

‘Thanks for your help tonight, Garry.’

‘No worries, det... Jess.’

‘Good night.’ Jessica closed the door but instantly took her phone out and typed a reminder into the calendar for the next morning. It was probably nothing and possibly just the wine doing her thinking but she’d had an idea and didn’t want to forget it when she woke up.

Jessica had never really had big hangovers in her life. There was always the odd morning after when Caroline had been at university and the two of them had gone out but nothing crazy and she had never lost days or anything silly like some of the stories people could tell.

She woke up on the Saturday morning with an aching neck, a world-class headache and the distinct taste of last night’s curry in her mouth. The room was ridiculously bright and she again cursed herself for not contacting the landlord. She fumbled her way out of the cocoon she had made of her duvet and realised she was still wearing the clothes she’d had on the whole of the previous day and evening. Craving water, she staggered out of her bedroom and made her way groggily towards the kitchen. ‘Caroline?’

She hadn’t heard her friend and Randall come in the previous night but, considering how much she had drank, that was no particular surprise. There wasn’t any answer anyway, so presumably the two of them had stopped the night at the new flat.

Jessica turned the sink’s tap on and almost hypnotically watched the water gush out and hold her attention. Vague memories of her chat with Garry the previous evening came flooding back. Had she hugged him? She saw the three empty bottles of wine next to the bin.

She shook her head and snapped her gaze away from the water, snatching a glass up from the draining board and filling it up from the tap. She downed the whole glass in one then filled it back up again. After that, she hunted around in the drawer under the sink for some aspirin and took three along with another full glass of water. She was pretty sure the recommended dose was two tablets but that was for just a standard headache surely?

Regardless, she fumbled her way back to bed and laid down. The ceiling was still spinning but not too badly and she could hear a buzzing noise from somewhere. She looked from one side of the bed to the other, confused by the sound, then realised it was coming from her phone, which was face down on the nightstand. Her head had started to clear slightly but she still struggled to pick her phone up. She couldn’t figure out what the specific tone was. It was definitely a different noise to her alarm and text message sounds. Her fingers didn’t seem to want to do what her brain was willing them to but she eventually managed to unlock the screen and saw there was a calendar alert and a separate text message.

She read the text first, it was from Caroline.

“Been called into work cu later. X”

Jessica then pressed the button to read the note she had left herself the previous evening. It may have just been the ramblings of a drunk woman but she had nothing better to do. As soon as she’d had a shower, Jessica resolved to follow the note up, even if she did end up looking stupid.

‘Sorry, who are you?’ Jessica was listening to a voice from the other end of her phone.

‘Kim, it’s Detective Sergeant Daniel. We spoke at the station. Do you remember?’

‘What do
you
want?’ Kim Hogan’s tone didn’t indicate she was overly receptive to being called by a member of the police.

‘I just wanted to clarify a point or two with you if that’s all right?’

‘I read yesterday your lot had been booted off the case or something like that. Some super cop people brought in to clean up your mess and find that Collins psycho.’

‘That’s not really true, Kim.’ Jessica realised that in essence it actually was correct but she still wanted the girl to answer one question.

‘Well what do you want? I told you everything last time.’

‘I just want to check one thing with you.’

‘Fine. Just get on with it.’

‘You know when you told me we hadn’t done much about kids harassing your mum, what did you mean?’

‘Well you didn’t, did you? Your lot wouldn’t even come out.’

‘To what, though Kim?’

‘It doesn’t matter now, does it?’

Jessica was already feeling exasperated and glad she hadn’t gone to see the girl in person, as had been her original plan. She’d had to phone the station and ask for a favour on the quiet to get someone to pass Kim’s contact details on to her. There were a few people she trusted to keep something like that under the radar. ‘I’m not trying to trip you up Kim. I just want to make sure we’ve checked all angles.’

‘Fine. Look, it went on for a while. There was always kids knocking on the door and running and all that and harassing her on the street. But then one of them put glue in the front door lock one night. We had to climb out the window. Your lot hadn’t done anything before and were always giving mum hassle on the street so she couldn’t be bothered. She just got… someone she knew to fix things.’

Jessica’s heart was racing, all signs of a hangover long gone. ‘Who?’

‘I dunno. I wasn’t even in. Just someone she knew.’

Jessica didn’t want to ask the obvious but couldn’t see a way around it. ‘One of her clients?’

‘Piss off. Don’t talk about her like that.’

‘Please, Kim. I… Look, it could be really helpful.’

‘Whatever. I don’t know. It was just someone she knew.’

Jessica apologised for the call, ignored the sweary response and hung up. She was in her living room, sitting on the sofa in a still-empty flat. She took a deep breath. Her heart was still charging. She would have to make at least two more phone calls with the first to Garry Ashford to get Paul Keegan’s phone number. She didn’t want to risk another call to the station to get information that technically she wasn’t entitled to any longer. It most-likely wouldn’t have got her in trouble any way but she didn’t want to alert anyone to the fact she was still doing background work on the case.

She kept the call to Garry short and didn’t give him any reason for why she needed the number. Straight away she phoned Paul Keegan. The poor guy sounded shattered on the other end and she just couldn’t bring herself to ask him anything over the phone. She asked if he could spare an hour or so and they arranged to meet in a café local to him. He sounded grateful to be getting out of the house. Jessica thought about driving but didn’t want to risk still being over the limit from the night before. The place they were meeting was only a bus ride away anyway and she figured it would give her time to consider how best to approach things.

Paul Keegan was already waiting for her when Jessica arrived. The place they had arranged to meet was his choice, a greasy spoon-type establishment just off a main road not too far from his house. Jessica could smell the fat as she walked through the door, which instantly reminded her of childhood. She and her parents used to spend two weeks every summer in Blackpool. At the time, the sea front was lined with places like this, dirt-cheap cafes competing to sell the cheapest cup of tea and fighting to get as many people in as possible to play bingo. This was the sort of place that had once been the lifeblood of a city like Manchester but had largely died out in the last few years, replaced by posher more-expensive chain restaurants. There were still a few remaining, mainly on the outskirts where defiant locals would still go for a fry-up and a brew a couple of times a week.

There was a low chatter as Jessica spotted Paul Keegan off to her right, not far from the counter. He had a mug of tea on the table in front of him. She went and said hello and asked if he wanted anything to eat or a refill but he shook his head to both. Jessica ordered and paid for a cup of tea, although she wasn’t entirely sure it would be a much better standard than the ones from the machines in the station, then took it back to sit opposite Mr Keegan. ‘Thanks for coming,’ she said.