Friendless Lane Read online

  [#]

  Kelsey didn’t know how Lilly could stand it. Seriously, the kitchen was rank. You’d think with all the money she earned, she’d get herself a cleaner or something. There were bound to be loads of Polish wanting work, weren’t there?

  She got down on her hands and knees and stuck her head in the cupboard. There was a plastic container full of vegetables that smelled like wet dogs. She pulled it out and found a bag of carrots that had turned to mush. Black liquid dripped on to the floor tiles.

  ‘What are you doing?’

  Kelsey nearly jumped out of her skin. She dropped the carrots and they landed with a wet thump on the floor.

  ‘Sorry.’ Sam was standing by the table. ‘I didn’t mean to scare you.’

  Kelsey put a hand on her chest. ‘You nearly gave me a heart attack.’

  She dragged herself to her feet, threw away the rotten food and sent the container into the bin after it.

  ‘Don’t look like that,’ she told Sam. ‘I ain’t prepared to even be in the same room as something that minging.’

  ‘Mum doesn’t really like cleaning.’

  ‘No shit,’ said Kelsey, running a dishcloth over the filthy carrot puddle. ‘I’ve been in crack dens cleaner than this.’

  Sam laughed.

  ‘Why ain’t you in school?’ she asked him.

  ‘Study leave.’

  She eyed him suspiciously. ‘Already?’

  ‘Private school.’ He waved a hand dismissively and flicked the kettle on. ‘They take exams very seriously.’

  Kelsey chucked away the dishcloth. No way could you reuse something with that many germs. You’d probably get a disease.

  ‘Get you, posh boy.’

  ‘Shut up,’ he said. ‘It’s not like I have a choice.’

  ‘What d’you mean?’

  He reached for some cups and his T-shirt rode up, revealing a properly defined six-pack.

  ‘It wasn’t my idea to go to private school.’ He didn’t ask if she wanted a cup of tea, just made her one anyway. ‘I don’t want to be in this bubble, you know. I’d rather live in the real world.’

  ‘Oh yeah, poor you.’ She opened the fridge for milk, and shuddered at the state of the shelves. ‘At your age I was in prison.’

  She held out the milk but he didn’t take it. It was like all the sound had been sucked out of the room.

  ‘What did you do?’ he said at last.

  She shrugged and poured milk into the cups. She didn’t ask him if he wanted any. ‘They said I killed my mum.’

  ‘You killed your mum?’

  ‘Don’t be a twat.’ She nudged him out of the way and reached into a drawer for a teaspoon. ‘If I’d done it, I would still be banged up, wouldn’t I?’ She stirred the tea, the sound of the spoon clinking against the china. ‘In fact it was your mum who got me out, proved I didn’t do nothing.’

  He didn’t know what to say to that.

  ‘So.’ Kelsey picked up her tea. ‘Got a girlfriend?’

  ‘Nah.’

  ‘Gay, are you?’

  He spluttered his tea. ‘What? No. Why would you even say that?’

  She chuckled. ‘I dunno. All the working out, and the hair gel.’

  ‘I’m not gay.’

  ‘Fair enough,’ she said.

  ‘I’m not.’

  She turned away laughing. She’d really rattled his cage.

  ‘What about you?’ he asked.

  ‘Oh I’m not queer,’ she replied.

  He rolled his eyes. ‘I mean, have you got a boyfriend?’

  ‘My lifestyle don’t exactly lend itself to romance,’ she said.

  They both laughed at that one.

  ‘Thing is,’ she said, ‘when you’re on the gear, you don’t really think about all that. You’re all numb, like.’

  ‘Doesn’t sound so bad.’

  ‘Works just fine for an hour or two,’ she said. ‘But it ain’t ideal when it lasts seven years.’ She didn’t know why she was telling him all this. He was only a kid. ‘In some ways it’s me who’s been living in a bubble.’

  ‘Very philosophical.’

  She slapped his arm.

  ‘What about when you get out of rehab?’ he asked. ‘You’ll be in the real world then.’

  Kelsey nodded. It was a good thought, but scary.

  ‘I want to see my little sisters.’

  ‘Yeah, but you can’t just do that,’ said Sam. ‘What about a job?’

  Kelsey looked out of the window. They had a nice little garden. A bit scruffy, like. But on the far side were miles and miles of fields. Brown mud as far as the eye could see. Fucking bleak, to be honest. Kelsey thought about her job at the club. She’d have to give that up for a start. But what would she do instead? She’d never had a job that didn’t involve taking her clothes off.

  ‘Or college?’ said Sam. ‘You could study.’

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘Philosophy,’ he said.

  ‘Now I know you’re taking the piss.’

  He came and stood next to her, holding his tea in both hands. Without touching, she could feel how hot his skin was.

  ‘You’ll be able to do anything you like,’ he said. ‘When you’re clean.’

  He smiled at her, his face all open, like he believed it.

  ‘Life ain’t always that simple, Sam,’ she said.

  ‘You have to have faith,’ he said. ‘Faith in yourself, faith that you can have what you want.’

  Kelsey smiled back at him. Her whole life, she’d never thought it even possible that she should have what she wanted, that there could be a choice.

  ‘Okay then,’ she said. ‘I’ll tell you what I want right now.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Some of that weed.’

  [#]

  Cheney’s face was as grim as the nylon carpet tiles in the corridor outside his lab.

  ‘Sorry, mate,’ he said.

  Jack turned to the wall and leaned against it, pressing his hands against the cold, rough concrete. He felt like he needed all the ballast he could get.

  ‘You’re certain?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Cheney.

  The fact that his mate wasn’t taking the piss in any way, shape or form confirmed that he understood the gravity of the situation.

  ‘Shit,’ said Jack.

  The situation flashed before him in a series of still photographs. Kelsey Brand, all fishnet stockings and high-heeled boots. Gemma Glass, naked and dead in the morgue. The Chief Super cleaning the underside of his ridiculous trophy. Hussain opening his mouth wide for a swab, never taking his eyes off Jack.

  ‘His DNA doesn’t match the samples we found on the body,’ said Cheney.

  Jack pushed his forehead against the wall, its sharp texture pricking the skin above his eyebrows. He had staked everything on the forensics implicating Hussain, and now he had nothing. A no-comment interview and a blurry photograph that couldn’t even prove Hussain had ever driven his car into Tye Cross.

  He didn’t want to go back to the station, but he knew he had no choice. He had to face the almighty shit storm that was brewing, and once again he didn’t have a hood or an umbrella.

  [#]

  Lilly was relieved when Julia offered to walk into the town centre whilst she made her enquiries. She didn’t want Julia to overhear her conversation with Jack, but nor did she want to leave her client alone in reception with the gob of gunge on the wall.

  She dialled Jack’s number and he answered first time.

  ‘Hey.’

  The heaviness in his voice was tangible and forced her to sit up.

  ‘What’s up?’

  He gave a groan that encompassed a bleak desolation.

  ‘Is it Hussain?’ she asked.

  Jack sighed. ‘The DNA doesn’t match.’

  Lilly closed her eyes tightly. She had tried to warn him. She had told him that someone else had been driving Hussain’s car. But he’d been so certain that when Kelsey had said Hussain looked fami
liar, he’d pressed on.

  ‘That’s a blow,’ she said.

  ‘More like an unmitigated disaster,’ Jack replied. ‘The solicitor is already threatening to sue, and fuck only knows what the Chief Super will say.’

  ‘He’ll stand by you,’ said Lilly, with a lot more certainty than she actually felt.

  ‘Perhaps.’

  ‘It’s not as if Hussain isn’t linked,’ she said. ‘He owns the car.’

  ‘I have nothing to put Gem in that car,’ he replied.

  ‘We both know she was in it, Jack. Once you get hold of it, Forensics can do a sweep.’

  ‘But someone else was driving it,’ he said. ‘And someone else’s DNA is all over Gem.’

  ‘Yes, and whoever that someone is, he’s still up to his tricks,’ she said. ‘My girl from the rape suite is missing, and wherever she is, she was taken in that car.’

  ‘I’ve got the wrong man, Lilly.’

  ‘True,’ said Lilly. ‘But he knows who the right man is.’

  [#]

  She tracked Julia down in a café and ordered a cup of coffee. When it arrived, it was the right colour, and even smelled how it was supposed to, but it tasted of absolutely zilch. She spooned in three sugars to help matters.

  ‘I got a text,’ said Julia and pushed her mobile across the table

  Staying with a mate. See u soon xxx

  ‘What do you think?’ Lilly asked.

  Julia ran the tip of her finger between her brows, as if what she thought needed help getting out.

  ‘Did you speak to the police?’ she said at last.

  Lilly noticed now how the other woman’s hair, usually pinned neatly off her face, needed a wash, the roots greasy.

  ‘I did,’ she said.

  Something positive flitted across Julia’s face, but she quickly quelled it. This was a woman used to keeping all hope in check.

  ‘The officer in the case agrees with me that the man in custody may well know what’s happening to Velvet,’ said Lilly. ‘He may not be driving the car but he does own it.’

  ‘Can the police force this man to tell us where Velvet is?’

  Lilly pondered for a second. If Hussain refused to cooperate, Jack couldn’t exactly beat it out of him.

  ‘I’m sure they’ll do their level best,’ she replied.

  ‘And in the meantime?’

  Lilly gave up on her coffee. Life was just too short. ‘In the meantime, I need to speak to someone who I think might know more than they’re letting on.’

  [#]

  Jack hovered reluctantly outside the door of the incident room.

  The troops had gathered bright and early, chatting and laughing. The smell of bacon sandwiches filled the air. The team were excited, expectant. Lauren was perched on the edge of Byron’s desk, eating her breakfast and nodding in agreement at whatever it was he was telling her.

  Jack ran a forefinger under his collar. He didn’t want to speak to them. Given half a chance, he would have run all the way home, gone back to bed and slept for the rest of the day. The week maybe.

  ‘Listen up.’ He stepped into the room and they turned to him like a class of eager schoolchildren. ‘I’m afraid the news isn’t good.’

  Their faces fell.

  ‘In fact, the news is completely shit,’ he said. ‘Hussain’s DNA doesn’t match any of the samples found on the victim.’

  There was a collective groan.

  Lauren slid off Byron’s desk and pointed to the photograph of Hussain’s car that was pinned to the clearboard. There was a tiny smear of ketchup in the corner of her mouth.

  ‘It’s definitely him toing and froing in Latymer Street, sir.’

  Jack walked through the desks and stood by the board. Gem’s mug shot stared out at him.

  ‘It’s his car, yes,’ he said. ‘But not necessarily him.’

  ‘A bit strange if it’s not him,’ said Lauren.

  ‘Aye, well someone’s been driving it while our man’s been in custody.’

  A murmur of surprise ran around the room.

  ‘A witness saw the car in her street last night.’ Jack tapped the photograph with his thumbnail. ‘After I’d arrested Hussain.’

  ‘And what did he have to say about the fact that his car was seen so many times in Latymer Street?’ Lauren asked.

  ‘Diddly-squat,’ Jack replied. ‘No comment all the way.’

  Lauren put her hands on her hips and her shirt gaped at the buttons, treating them all to a flash of bra as red as the ketchup.

  ‘Then he’s involved, isn’t he?’ she said. ‘If he’d sold the car or whatever, why wouldn’t he just tell you that?’

  ‘You may very well ask that, Lauren.’

  The phone on Byron’s desk rang. No one moved. Everyone knew who would be calling. They also knew that Jack had put his neck on the line for this one. He gave a small nod and Byron lifted the receiver.

  ‘MCU.’

  No one spoke.

  ‘I’ll give him the message, sir,’ said Byron. ‘Yes, sir, as soon as I see him.’

  He put down the receiver. Still no one spoke.

  ‘Right enough,’ said Jack.’ I’m away to see a man about a dog.’ He smoothed his tie. ‘In the meantime, if you lot can find me this car, I’ll bloody love you for ever.’

  [#]

  Jack already had a headache brewing when the lift doors opened. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a packet of ibuprofen. When had he started carrying these things around permanently? He pushed two pills through their foil seal and chucked them into his mouth. Without a drink, he had to crunch through them and swallow them dry.

  With powdery chemicals stuck in his back teeth, he knocked twice on the Chief Super’s door and let himself in.

  ‘Sit down, Jack.’ The Chief Super gestured to the chair on the other side of his desk. ‘I won’t beat around the bush here. Unfortunately Saeed Jafari has made a formal complaint about you.’

  Jack slumped into the chair.

  ‘I’m assuming that nothing occurred that might jeopardize a conviction?’ said the Chief Super.

  Oh God. How was he going to word this?

  ‘I’m afraid we’re still a way off a conviction, sir.’

  The Chief Super gave a humourless smile. His teeth were American – perfect, white and even. Almost denture-like. Jack imagined him fitting his bleach trays each night before bed. That must be nice for the missus.

  ‘That doesn’t sound very positive,’ said the Chief Super.

  Jack worried the remnants of the pills with the tip of his tongue. No sense in dancing round the issue; he might as well just say it.

  ‘Unfortunately, the suspect’s DNA sample doesn’t match any of those found on the victim’s body.’

  The Chief Super didn’t speak, and Jack’s headache felt compelled to fill the silence.

  ‘Let me get this straight,’ said the Chief Super at last. ‘Hussain isn’t guilty?’

  Jack pressed his palm to his forehead as if to stop his brain from tumbling out into his lap. ‘I don’t think we can conclude that, sir.’

  ‘Without any evidence, I think we have to.’

  Jack shook his head. A mistake. The pain seemed to spin like a cue ball across a snooker table, white and hard, sending the other balls skittering to every corner of his head.

  ‘He owns the car, sir.’

  The Chief Super narrowed his eyes. ‘He owns a car. A car that is in no way linked to the victim.’

  ‘The CCTV footage—’

  The Chief Super put up a finger. ‘I’ve seen your footage, Jack. It proves nothing.’ He pushed back his chair and stood. ‘Let Hussain go.’

  Jack jumped up too. ‘Not yet, sir. I need to talk to him again.’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous.’

  ‘The car, his car, is involved in another case. A missing girl.’

  ‘What girl?’

  ‘I don’t have all the details yet, sir,’ said Jack. ‘But a girl came into the rape suite ye
sterday. She bolted before anyone could interview her, but her mother noted the registration number of the car she got into and it was Hussain’s.’

  ‘Let me see the crime report,’ said the Chief Super. ‘Then I can make a decision.’

  Jack swallowed. His throat was full of grains of ibuprofen that scrabbled and scratched. He handed over the single sheet of paper.

  ‘Is this it?’

  Jack nodded.

  ‘There are no details here, Jack,’ said the Chief Super. ‘No time, no date, no place, no perp.’

  ‘No, sir.’

  ‘So what did the girl actually tell us?’

  ‘As I say, she bolted …’ Jack let his words trail away.

  The Chief Super looked at him with something akin to pity. ‘Let’s get this straight. Has your girl reported a crime?’

  There was a long moment of silence before the Chief Super strode to the door and opened it. ‘Release Hussain.’

  [#]

  The smell of bleach in the cottage was overpowering. That stick-in-the throat, almost vinegary hit. It reminded Lilly of Bleach Fridays. On the last Friday of each month, her mum would do her roots. Why Fridays? Had it been pay day, perhaps? She would buy a bottle of hydrogen peroxide and, with her daughter’s help, burn her hair the colour of Bird’s Custard.

  Lilly’s eyes began to sting at the thought of it.

  The smell was at its strongest in the kitchen. Here she found the culprit: Kelsey, scrubbing the glass shelves of the fridge with something that looked like wire wool, a bottle of Domestos at hand. Her face was a picture of concentration.

  When she caught sight of Lilly, she waved. Lilly laughed.

  ‘What?’ Kelsey thumped down her bottle of bleach. ‘What’s funny?’

  ‘I’m surprised, that’s all.’

  ‘I like cleaning,’ said Kelsey defensively. ‘There ain’t nothing wrong with that.’

  ‘There certainly isn’t.’

  ‘It’s keeping me busy.’ Kelsey pointed to the now sparkling fridge. ‘And you can’t say it didn’t need it.’

  No, Lilly could not say that.

  ‘Where’s Sam?’ she asked.

  Kelsey shrugged and rubbed her cloth in the tray that was meant to hold eggs but more frequently housed scraps of cheese or half-eaten tomatoes. ‘Upstairs.’

  ‘Good,’ said Lilly. ‘I want to talk to you.’

  She sat at the kitchen table, put her laptop in front of her and opened it. She waved for Kelsey to sit next to her. Reluctantly Kelsey did as she was told.