Someone Else's Skin (21 page)

‘Has the psychiatrist at Sommerville been able to talk to him?’

‘She talks. He doesn’t. Today . . . it’s the first time I’ve seen him show any emotion. The first time he let me see what he really thinks of me.’ An idea was knocking about in the back of her head, like a moth at a dimly lit window. She couldn’t pin it down. Something to do with Stephen, the girls, what Ed had said about shame and silence –

‘He has this drawer in his room, full of Mum and Dad’s stuff. Not just Dad’s glasses. Cards, photos . . .’ Stephen had wanted her to see inside, to know what he’d taken. Not just their lives, Greg and Lisa’s, but their
lives
. Her childhood.

‘I was inside a house once.’ She hadn’t told Ed this before. ‘After a really bad fire. Everywhere was . . . dripping. Black. It smelt . . . bitter, like a fired gun.’

She could see that house as clearly as if it was yesterday. The front door was in the back garden. All that was left of the staircase was six steps, leading nowhere. From the hall, she could see straight through to the garden at the back, piled high with blackened masonry. Part of the ceiling was still coming down, plaster shrapnel exploding in the puddles left by the fire hoses. ‘There was nothing left. Part of the bed was buried in this . . . pit where the floor used to be. No upstairs rooms. No roof. Just this pit.’ She wet her lips with the glass. ‘Two bodies in the bed. The fire didn’t kill them. It was the smoke. They were . . . lying back to back in the bed. It didn’t look like they woke up. We thought it was one body, at first. Until forensics separated it into two.’

She shut her eyes tight for a second, then opened them.

‘I keep thinking . . . did they do something to provoke him? Stephen. I can’t believe it, but then I remember the way I felt, before I left. Dad could be so . . . impatient. Mum wanted to help, with everything. I used to think maybe they started fostering to have someone they could shape, the way I wouldn’t let them shape me.’ She looked into the glass, wishing she’d filled it with wine not water.

When she spoke again, Ed had to lean in to listen. ‘There were defence wounds on her hands. The pattern of the bodies . . . probably meant Dad was trying to protect her.’

She shut her eyes, holding the glass to her chest. ‘I coped, at the time. That’s the thing. I coped with everything. The funeral, the wills. I rented the house, because I wasn’t ready to sell it, but I didn’t let it slow me down.’

She heard her voice harden, defensively. ‘I didn’t lose a day more than I had to. Welland was waiting for me to come apart at the seams. I put up with his positive-discrimination bullshit, bit my tongue – I’ve been biting it ever since. Just lately, it’s been like . . . trying to cram one of those toy snakes back into the tin after it’s out. I didn’t even know I’d let anything out. I thought I had it all tied down.’

‘You started to relax,’ Ed said. ‘Maybe. That gave the emotional adrenalin the chance it needed, to tank.’

‘I guess you’re right.’ She finished the water and put the glass down on the floor. ‘So what d’you recommend? Please don’t say therapy.’

‘You don’t need therapy.’ He sat forward, so they were shoulder to shoulder. ‘You just need to cut yourself some slack. And to talk, when you can.’

‘Sounds easy, the way you say it. You make it easy. Thank you.’

‘No need,’ he said lightly.

‘Yes.’ She moved close enough to kiss his cheek. ‘Thanks.’

Her phone buzzed between their bodies. She leaned away from Ed to answer it.

‘Yes. Noah. What’ve you got?’

‘Calvin Roofers took on cheap labour for the job in Finchley. Two of the men were Asian. The names they gave turned out to be Bollywood actors, and the addresses don’t exist. According to Calvin Johns, both men were desperate to work at the refuge and agreed to be paid less than the others for the privilege. He was surprised, because his usual workforce is Polish. These two called up after the work started, but he took them on because of the cost saving.’

‘They hustled the job,’ Marnie said, ‘in other words.’

‘That’s how it sounds. They asked Johns for the job on Friday, after we’d been to the refuge.’ Noah sounded sick to the stomach. ‘They were Ayana’s brothers, I’m sure of it. And they followed us there . . .’

‘The uniform who tried their house earlier . . .’

‘They tried twice. The second time they got Mrs Mirza. Ayana’s mother. She said the family hasn’t seen or heard from Ayana since she left home. We’d need a warrant to be sure Ayana was inside the house. If she is . . . Can’t Ed get her out of there?’

‘Not unless she’s prepared to inform on them. Then she could go into Witness Protection and we could change her National Insurance number, her name . . .’

‘What did Tessa have to say?’ Noah asked.

‘Not much. Just that she believed Mab’s story about the men taking Ayana through the roof. She’s scared stiff of Shelley. Ed had to promise to find a new place for her before she’d admit to having seen Clark on the premises. Which he was, whenever he could afford to buy Jeanette Conway’s silence.’ Jeanette had said:
And that’s not all I seen.
Marnie had expected her to spell it out. When she didn’t, she’d guessed the woman was taking backhanders to keep quiet.

‘What I don’t understand,’ Noah said, ‘is why Shelley didn’t just leave the refuge, if she wanted to be back with him.’

‘Tessa says Shelley prefers it this way. At the refuge, Clark knows the parameters, Shelley feels in control . . . Apparently, it’s a turn-on sleeping together there. The way Jeanette described the place . . . you’d think it was a bunny farm for bullies and predators. She denies taking money from anyone other than Clark, but I wouldn’t be surprised if she let others into the refuge. It’d explain how the roofers got inside, all the way to Ayana’s room without an alarm being raised.’

‘Ed’s sacked her, right?’

‘He’s seeing to it. Not his job, but yes. She’s going to have scorch marks by the time he’s through with her.’ She stood up from Ed’s sofa. ‘We need to talk Tim Welland out of wringing our necks when he hears we’ve temporarily lost our witness.’

‘What about Hope and Simone? That car that was outside the refuge, and the hospital.’

‘Henry Stuke.’ Marnie hadn’t forgotten the man’s name. ‘Speak with Ron Carling about Stuke, and the rest of the CCTV. I can’t believe one Prius is all we’ve got to show for those hours of footage.’ She dusted her lapels briskly. ‘Too bad Leo Proctor isn’t dead, then this would be a murder investigation and we’d get proper resources . . .’

44

‘Detectives . . .’ Commander Tim Welland’s voice was like gravel in treacle. In
hot
treacle, thanks to the temperature in his office. ‘As I understand it, you started out with seven women and now you’re down to four. I thought this was a refuge, not a sinkhole. Can someone talk me through the maths?’

‘Simone Bissell and Hope Proctor went missing from the North Middlesex Hospital,’ Marnie said. ‘Ayana Mirza was taken from the refuge, we believe by people acting on behalf of her brothers.’

‘Nasif Mirza.’

‘And the others. We have a witness who saw two Asian men abducting her. I think kidnap’s reasonable grounds for a warrant.’

Welland leaned forward, with the effect of an approaching avalanche. ‘Good to see you’re capable of thinking. I wouldn’t have known it, from this shitstorm.’ He shoved back his chair and folded his arms, eyeing Noah unkindly. ‘What’s this about invisible monkeys?’

Noah hid his surprise; he’d expected Marnie to keep that theory from Welland, whose tolerance for what he called psychobabble was sub-zero. ‘It’s a problem we have with the witnesses to the stabbing. It’s not connected to Ayana’s kidnap.’

‘You keep using that word,
kidnap,
but where’s the evidence she resisted?’

‘We think she was in shock . . .’

‘Your witness saw two men
helping her
through a hole in the roof – a hole in the roof, for Pete’s sake – but she didn’t hear any shouting, or screaming. Nor did she raise the alarm, which she surely would’ve done had she witnessed a
kidnapping
.’

‘Conditioned behaviour,’ Marnie said. ‘All these women have learnt to be afraid of men, to keep quiet. Their witness statements reflect their own experiences. It’s about what they
expected
to see.’

‘What about what
you
expected? Seems to me you’ve been hoping to conjure evidence out of thin air. Not to mention persuading one of these petrified women to stand up to her psycho of a brother.’

‘It’s what the CPS wanted.’ Marnie tried an encouraging smile. ‘Ayana Mirza helped DS Jake to save Leo Proctor’s life. She’s tougher than the rest.’

‘I see your boy wonder,’ Welland nodded at Noah, ‘and I raise you hard evidence.’

‘We’re trying to trace the men who signed on with Calvin Roofers, and to connect them to Nasif. We have grounds for a warrant to search the Mirzas’ house and to bring Nasif back in for questioning.’

‘You do, do you? Let me put you straight on that score. The CPS is warning of probable complaints arising from our harassment of the Muslim community.
Our
harassment of
them
. We have to respect their honour system right up until it kills someone.’

‘It’s already half blinded Ayana Mirza. And it cost Lee Hurran his life.’

‘Not proven. Not enough for us to go knocking on Nasif’s door again. Unless it’s to ask, politely, if he’s seen his sister.’

Welland sank back in the chair. He lifted a hand and rubbed absently at the taut skin over his eye. ‘Tell me why Hope Proctor wasn’t under police guard. Better than that, tell me why she wasn’t under arrest.’

‘It wasn’t clear what’d happened. We were waiting to re-examine the witnesses, and to speak with her husband. She didn’t look like a flight risk, sir.’

‘So we’ve got two missing witnesses, and an absconded murder suspect. And it’s only Tuesday morning.’

‘Hope isn’t a murder suspect,’ Noah said quietly. ‘It was self-defence, sir.’

Welland managed a smile; it looked like someone was mugging the lower half of his face. ‘I refer you to my earlier statement, DS Jake. Hard. Evidence.’

‘Her medical exam showed evidence of long-term abuse—’

‘She didn’t look like a flight risk,’ Marnie repeated. There was a warning to Noah in her tone, to be quiet. It stung. He sat back, biting his lip.

‘But she managed to take off,’ Welland said, ‘all the same. What about this Simone Bissell? What’s her story?’

Marnie recounted the worst parts of the history Ed had told them.

‘Ugandan,’ Welland repeated when she’d finished, as if this was the only part of the story that mattered. ‘So I can expect more hand-wringing from the CPS.’ He gave Noah a hard look, as if estimating the mileage in having a black detective in his unit. ‘This Bissell girl, why d’you think she ran off with Hope Proctor?’

‘We don’t know,’ Marnie said. ‘Perhaps because she thought we’d arrest Hope, once Leo Proctor was awake. Or because she feared Leo’s reprisals.’

‘Is she dangerous?’

‘Simone? I wouldn’t have thought so, but if she’s as damaged as Ed Belloc says . . .’

‘She could crack.’ Welland looked at the paperwork Marnie had submitted so far. ‘You’d better check out this Lowell Paton – the boy who abused her – see what he has to say, and ask her adoptive parents. Damage limitation.’ He pinched his long lower lip between his thumb and forefinger. ‘Back with Ayana . . . Assuming it was her brothers who took her from Finchley, how did they know where to find her?’

‘We’re not sure,’ Marnie said steadily. She didn’t look at Noah.

‘You don’t think she made a phone call? A lot of them do.’

‘That’s what Ed Belloc says. I don’t think Ayana would’ve risked it, and neither does Ed. She’s too smart. She knew what was waiting for her back home.’

Noah sat very still, conscious of a caustic burn in his gut. Ayana’s brothers had followed him from the police station to the refuge. He was sure of it. He’d led them right to her. Now she was gone, back to that place where they’d half blinded her. God knows what punishment they’d devise for her this time.

Welland said, ‘You’d better get on with it.’ He nodded at Noah. ‘DI Rome, I need a further word with you.’

‘Coffee,’ Marnie told Noah when she came out of Welland’s office. ‘I’m buying.’

Her expression gave away nothing of what had happened after Noah left the meeting. Not that he needed many clues; Welland had made his mood clear enough. Noah wished Marnie had let him tell Welland a few more facts about their investigation, instead of cutting him off at the knees.

In the local coffee shop, she ordered two flat whites, both with an extra shot. ‘I’ve got an address for Lowell Paton. It’s not far. Let’s walk.’

A three-mile run would’ve been better for both of them, but this way they could keep working. Noah sipped at the coffee, keeping pace with Marnie.

‘Welland’s pissed off about Hope. He’s insisting she should’ve been under police guard at the hospital. “Attempted murder”, I’m quoting here, “is still a crime in our neck of the woods, whatever hymn sheet you’re singing from, DI Rome.” That clears us for putting resources behind finding her.’

‘Why didn’t you tell him about the cupboard under the stairs? Or the medical exam.’

She heard the edge in his voice and raised her eyebrows. ‘We didn’t have a warrant. Hard evidence needs to be iron-clad, remember?’

You’re the one who forgot it,
Noah thought,
when you questioned Leo at the hospital.

‘What about Ayana?’ he demanded. ‘Is Welland going to let us get a warrant?’

‘I’ve called Ed, to see what he can do. Welland thinks Victim Support might stand a better chance with the family than us right now.’

‘Ed’s not the police.’

‘No,’ she agreed, ‘he’s not.’

‘So we’re delegating to him just because the CPS is neurotic.’

‘We’re not delegating anything, Detective.’ Her tone was a slap on the wrist. ‘We’re making proper use of the resources available to us.’

Trying to pick a fight with Marnie Rome was like trying to dig your fingers into marble; you just ended up with an ache in your fists. ‘It’s idiotic.’