The Girl in the Rug (17 page)

Carla rushed along the busy hospital corridor, checking the
signs for Douglas ward.

She spotted Frank wandering about up ahead, he came over to
her.

‘How’s he doing?’ Carla asked him breathlessly.

‘It’s a bloody miracle he’s still alive,’ said Frank
grimacing, ‘my god Carla, he barely looks human.’

‘Will he be able to talk to us do you think,’ she asked as
they made their way to a side room further along the corridor.

‘God knows, I’m not sure what the damage is yet,’ Frank said
as they walked, ‘he’s back from theatre, and trussed up like a chicken from
what I could see, with tubes coming out of every orifice.’

Carla entered the room quietly, a nurse was checking on one
of the intravenous drips that were attached to Turk’s arms. She turned and gave
them a stern look, ‘He’s not fit enough to speak to you lot yet…even if he
could,’ she added shaking her head.

‘What do you mean, even if he could?’ asked Carla, ‘We need
to find out who did this to him.’

‘Well I’m guessing you’re not going to find out from him I’m
afraid…poor guy’s had his tongue cut out on top of everything else.’

‘Bloody hell,’ whispered Frank looking closely at Turk’s
bandaged face, ‘poor bugger…obviously someone was very keen to stop him talking
to us.’

Just then Turk began to stir and finding himself immobilised
he began thrashing around in the bed trying to dislodge the tubes that were
attached to him, so much so that the nurse pressed a bell and within minutes
three other nurses came rushing into the room and Carla and Frank were
politely, but firmly, asked to leave.

Outside Carla caught up with the doctor that had assessed
Turk when he first arrived at the hospital and asked him what had happened to
him.

‘He is extremely lucky to be alive,’ he said. ‘Someone had
given him a ferocious beating, shattering both his arms and breaking his nose
and his jaw. Not to mention the damage that was done internally and the fact
that the poor man could easily have choked on his own blood once his tongue had
been removed. Luckily he had the good sense to roll onto his side…although I
can’t imagine the agony that that must have caused, but that’s what saved his
life…that and the man walking his dog last night who heard his groans and
called for an ambulance.’

‘What are the chances that he’ll be able to talk to us
doctor?’ Carla asked.

‘Well your guess is as good as mine at the moment I’m
afraid. He is still in a critical condition and there is still a chance he
won’t survive, so he’s not going to be much good to you for a good while I
should think. Even if he does recover, he will never talk again, so you would
have to find a different way to communicate with him,’ the doctor finished
looking harassed, ‘look I’m sorry I have to go so…’

‘Oh yes of course, thank you for your time doctor,’ said Carla
as he rushed away.

‘Bloody hell!’ said Carla frustrated, ‘so close to nailing
that bastard Nellie…how the hell did he find out about Turk phoning us. Where
was he found Frank?’

‘On the other side of the green, just inside the woods.’
said Frank with a wry smile, ‘He was almost certainly on his way to the
station, I suppose he cut through the woods to try and keep as low a profile as
possible…he was so close, just didn’t make it.’

‘I suppose there’s no doubt that this is Nellie’s work is
there?’ Carla asked.

Frank shook his head, ‘This has got Nellie written all over
it…besides it is just too much of a coincidence. Turk phones us with
information and then winds up with his tongue cut out…nah, no doubt, no doubt
at all.’

The constable that had been assigned to Turk came running
over to them. ‘Um, I thought you should know that Turk is awake Ma’am…they’ve
calmed him down like, but he is conscious.’

‘Right…thanks Martin,’ said Frank. ‘Well I think we should
see if there’s any way we can still get something from Turk…what do you think.’

‘Let’s give it a try shall we…but Frank, go easy won’t
you…remember what he’s been through.’

Frank pulled a face, ‘Yeh and I’ll try and forget what
little Lucy Hunt went through shall I or Amish Patel,’ he held up a hand when
Carla would have protested. ‘Don’t worry Carla…I’ll be gentle.’

Carla didn’t arrive home till after eight that evening.
Trying to get information from Turk had been a slow and tricky process, after a
few failed attempts they had finally worked out a system whereby he would
either nod once for yes and twice for no and in doing so had confirmed that it
had indeed been Nellie who had beaten him up. But also according to Turk it had
been Nellie that had killed Lucy Hunt and Amish Patel. Obviously they couldn’t get
any more details from him, and after an hour or so he was completely exhausted
and they were once again asked to leave by the nurse. But Carla was feeling a
lot more positive about the investigation now, surely even DCI Riley would have
to think more carefully about the Kathy Hunt conviction now that they had
Turk’s evidence.

She was surprised and a little fed up to see Linda sitting
in the kitchen with James when she finally got home. She had completely
forgotten that she had invited Linda round to update them on what she had found
out about Clive Tutt, and to be quite honest all she wanted to do was to have
something to eat and collapse in front of the telly.

‘Linda hi,’ she said with as much enthusiasm as she could
muster, ‘I’m so sorry I’m late, things went on a bit longer than I expected…’

‘Oh bloody hell Carla why didn’t you just cancel…it’s
obvious you’re dead on your feet…I’ll go.’ But just as Linda was getting up to
gather her things together, there was a knock on the back door and Frank walked
in.

‘I almost bloody forgot that we’d said we would meet
tonight…why didn’t you remind me Carla?’ he said taking off his coat.

Linda stood looking uncertainly at Carla, who just laughed
and said, ‘Well because I had completely forgotten about it as well that’s
why…but seeing as we’re all here let’s get some coffee going and you can tell
us what you’ve discovered Linda.’

James stood and went over to the kettle, ‘You sit down
love,’ he said to Carla, giving her a kiss as he pushed her towards a chair. ‘I
will make the coffee and some sandwiches to keep us going.’

Linda spread out her reports on the kitchen table, not for
nothing was she Ted’s daughter, everything had been coloured coded and tagged.

Carla smiled, ‘Blimey love you’ve been busy,’ she said, ‘how
many photos have you taken, looks like hundreds.’

Linda blushed, ‘Well I wanted to be thorough so a lot of
them are of the same people just at different times.’

Linda had been following Clive Tutt for about a week, and
what she had found was more or less the same as Ted had discovered, except that
Linda had managed to get a couple of pictures of him receiving envelopes from
the men that he had dealings with.

‘It’s almost like he’s got some sort of business going with
these men, although I haven’t yet seen what it is he’s providing them with.’

Carla was looking at one picture in particular of Tutt and
Michael White, CEO of a local charity.

‘Is it my imagination or are they arguing about something,’
she asked, showing the picture to Linda.

‘No you’re right, Mr White was not at all happy to see
Tutt,’ said Linda. ‘I thought at one point they were going to come to blows…and
it was all very furtive, Michael White was constantly looking around him,
seemed to dread being seen talking to Tutt.’

‘Well I can’t say I blame him,’ said James placing a huge
plate of ham sandwiches on the table, ‘he seems like an awful little shit.’

Everyone laughed except Frank who had picked up one of Ted’s
old photos that Linda had brought with her and was staring at it with a weird
look on his face.

‘Who is this?’ he asked pointing at the photo.

Linda took it from him, ‘Well that’s Tutt…only in those days
he went by the name of…’

‘Robert Gray,’ Frank finished for her.

‘Yes that’s right…did you know him?’ Linda asked.

Frank’s face took on a hard look, ‘Oh yes I knew him,’ he
said tight lipped.

‘But how did you know him Frank?’ asked Carla.

Frank seemed to think for a moment, then he shook his head.
‘Oh he was just one of the caretakers at my old school that’s all,’ he said,
‘oh great ham…I am so hungry, I haven’t eaten anything since two digestive
biscuits at about six this morning.’ He grabbed two of the sandwiches and ate
them hungrily and the moment passed, but Carla thought about it later. Frank
had been disturbed by that old photo…properly disturbed, now why would he react
like that about some old caretaker at his school…Carla was determined to find
out.

Franklin’s bed was furthest from the door in a room of
six beds. He had found it really strange to sleep with so many others in the
room when he had arrived at Glendon House a month ago, staring up at the
ceiling most nights feeling lost and alone…listening to his roommate’s snores
and grunts. Eventually sheer exhaustion had taken over and he had slept, and
now he was used to it.

He was on his own in the dormitory today, the school
holidays had ended and the rest of the kids in the house had gone back to
school, not that Franklin missed them…he barely noticed them. For him life was
made up of sleeping and eating…he spoke to no one, he didn’t read or watch the
TV, he never smiled and he never ever cried.

Since that awful day a month ago when his bedroom door
had finally been unlocked and Gillian Hill had rushed into his stinking filthy
room, covered him with a blanket and told him to ‘Keep your eyes closed
Franklin…tight closed…don’t look darling.’

She had held him tightly against her as she carefully
carried him downstairs. But Franklin had looked…he had peered through a tiny
hole in the blanket and he had seen his mother. His mother being cut down from
the banisters where she had been hanging, her eyes bulging from her head, her
tongue swollen and protruding from the side of her mouth…and he had screamed.

Clawing and pulling at Mrs Hill, desperate to get to Mum…he
had screamed and sobbed and begged, but all he could do was watch her being
loaded up into an ambulance and driven away.

Gillian Hill had hushed him and cooed to him until he
began to settle down; snuggling into the warm softness of her bosom he had
slept.

He had been woken by the feel of hands dragging him away
from his safe warm cocoon; he fought against them, kicking out until he was
jolted awake properly by a stern voice.

‘Now then…none of that my boy, you have to come with us
now,’ Franklin swivelled out of his soft burrow and looked up into the face of
an elderly man who was holding him by the arms. The man lifted him up…Franklin
screamed again and tried frantically to escape back to Mrs Hill who was crying
almost as much as he was. But the man kept a tight grip on him and he found
himself being bundled into the back of a car, where another lady was waiting
for him.

She pulled him towards her, but not in the gentle way
that Mrs Hill had done, clamping her arms around him so that he couldn’t move.

‘Hello Franklin,’ she said once he had given up fighting
her, ‘I’m Miss Downey…don’t be scared now, we are going to take you somewhere
where you’ll be safe ok.’

Franklin had screamed at her that he wanted his mum, he
didn’t want to go with her…he just wanted Mum.

‘Well now that’s not going to happen I’m afraid
Franklin…your mum’s dead you see…so we have to take you somewhere to keep you
safe, and where you’ll be looked after. Come on now it won’t be so bad you’ll
see…there’s lots of other children there to play with, so you just be a good
boy and sit quietly and we’ll be there in a jiffy.’

Franklin hadn’t sat quietly and been a good boy…he had
fought with them every step of the way; he had screamed blue murder until
finally the lady lost her patience with him.

‘Right that’s enough Franklin, stop being such a little
brat…you are not the only child that’s lost his mother so stop feeling sorry
for yourself and shut up!’ she shouted at him.

Franklin had shut up…and he hadn’t said a word, not to
any of them since. He had been sedated for a day or so until he was deemed fit
to mingle with the other children, but since then he had just kept to himself,
lying on his bed or sitting by himself in the living room. He simply didn’t
want to be in this place, he didn’t want to play with these children…he wanted
Mum.

It had been decided that he wasn’t quite ready to go back
to school yet; so that was why he was here on his own today…which suited him
just fine.

Miss Downey had popped in for a few minutes earlier to
make sure he was alright.

‘Are you going to be ok here on your own today Franklin?’
she had asked absently, as she read a letter in her hand, when she got no reply
she stopped reading and looked at him over her glasses.

‘Maybe tomorrow you would like to go to school with the others…what
do you think?’

Franklin didn’t answer her…he just stared at the ceiling.

‘Ok well we’ll see how you are tomorrow, won’t we,’ she
had said rolling her eyes as she left the room.

Janet, another lady that worked in the house put her head
around the door.

‘I’m popping out for half an hour Franklin to do some
shopping…do you want to come?’

Franklin ignored her.

‘Right well I won’t be long…Mr Gray the caretaker is
around and about if you need anything.’

And then she was gone…the big house seemed very quiet
with all the kids gone; Franklin pulled his blankets over him and closed his
eyes.

He opened them a few moments later when he became aware
of someone else in the room. A man was standing over his bed; his trousers were
round his ankles and he was holding his erect penis in one hand while he pulled
the blankets off Franklin with the other.

Icy tendrils of fear curled themselves around Franklin’s
heart…he curled up into a ball, trying to cover himself from the man’s glassy
stare. The man just watched him, not saying a word, he was rubbing something
all over his willy, something shiny and greasy as he moved closer.

Whimpering, Franklin shuffled down to the end of the bed
trying to make a run for it, but he was caught easily and flipped over onto his
stomach. His face was pushed down into the bedding and held there with an iron
grip as the man forced his slicked up cock inside him.

The pain was unbearable, Franklin twisted and squirmed
trying to get away from the terrible assault, but the was held firm and had to
endure the agonising invasion until he heard a load groan from behind him and
he was unceremoniously pushed away. He lay there panting and sobbing for a
moment, keeping his face pressed into the blankets as the man dressed
himself…he stayed there until he was sure that he was on his own again. He was
sore and bleeding… ashamed and embarrassed, he found a flannel and wet it in
the sink at the end of the dormitory wiping himself as best he could until the
bleeding stopped, and then he buried himself back under his blankets and cried
silently…hopelessly for his mum.

No one noticed anything was wrong when they all returned
to the house later on. Yes Franklin seemed even more introverted than usual,
and he seemed even more reluctant to join in, but on the other hand he was up
and ready to go to school the next morning…so it was thought that he was on the
mend at last.