Afraid (25 page)

‘You’ve told me all I need to know,’ Tom said quietly. ‘That’s good enough for me.’

‘I haven’t told you everything,’ said Chloe, rubbing at her arm when it started itching.

Tom gave her a piercing look. ‘I hope you’re not keeping secrets from me? That wouldn’t be very nice after everything I’ve done for you.’

‘No, but there’s stuff girls tell each other that we wouldn’t tell blokes,’ said Chloe, adding, ‘Like about periods, and that,’ in the hope that it would put him off asking any more questions.

‘I know about periods,’ Tom informed her. ‘We’re not all Neanderthals like your father.’ He stubbed out his cigarette on a plate that was sitting on the dresser and said, ‘Anyway, I won’t have secrets in my house.’

‘
You
’re keeping one,’ Chloe reminded him indignantly. ‘You don’t want me to tell Skye about this.’

‘Only because it would upset her,’ Tom said, as if it were a perfectly reasonable explanation. ‘You know what she’s like. She’d only fly off the handle and make me kick you out, and then what would you do?’

‘Go back to the doss house.’ Chloe shrugged and sucked on her cigarette. ‘Or go home.’

‘
No
!’ Tom slammed his hand down on the mattress. ‘I will not let you go back to that filthy life. You’re staying here with me where I can keep you safe, and that’s final.’

Unlike Skye, who jumped to Tom’s every command because she was terrified that he might kick her out and she’d end up in prison, Chloe was unfazed by his outburst. She wouldn’t get into trouble if she decided to leave – at least, not with the police. If she went home her dad would probably give her a beating to teach her a lesson for running away again. The bruises only lasted a few days, so everything would soon be back to normal. But if Tom was that desperate for her to stay, she saw no harm in playing him along for a bit.

‘Will you get me a telly if I stay?’ she asked. ‘Only it’s dead boring without one, and I’m missing ’
Ollyoaks
.’

‘Olly what?’ Tom frowned.

‘’
Olly
oaks,’ Chloe repeated. Then, rolling her eyes, she said, ‘God, don’t tell me you’ve never seen it?
Every
one watches it. So can we get one, or what?’

Tom shook his head. ‘There’s no signal out here. That’s why I haven’t already got one – or a house phone.’

Chloe’s shoulders slumped with disappointment. Then, perking up again, she said, ‘We can still get one to watch DVDs on. My dad’s mate’s got one with a built-in player; it’s massive.’

‘We haven’t got the room,’ Tom told her. ‘Anyway, it’s not good for you to watch too much TV; it strains your eyes.’

‘So do laptops,’ Chloe sniped. Then, frowning when something occurred to her, she said, ‘Here, how come you can get a signal for that but not for a telly?’

‘It’s not connected to the internet,’ Tom told her. ‘It’s for work, not for messing around on.’

‘Oh, right,’ Chloe murmured, accepting this. ‘I still don’t see why we can’t get a telly for DVDs, though. We don’t even need a big one; one of them little flat-screen ones will do.’ She gave an exaggerated sigh now, and added, ‘I don’t really want to go home, ’cos I like it here with you and Skye. But I’ll go out of my head if I’ve got nothing to do.’

‘Okay, I’ll think about it,’ Tom conceded. ‘But only if you promise not to tell Skye about us.’

‘Course I won’t,’ Chloe said without hesitation.

Tom stood up now and, guessing that he was going to bed when he reached for his alarm clock, Chloe said, ‘Can you leave us a couple of cigs? Oh, and can you get some beer tomorrow, ’cos that wine’s horrible.’

‘No beer,’ Tom said, taking three cigarettes from his pack and laying them on the bedside table. ‘Skye likes wine, and I don’t want her to think I’m favouring you by changing it.’

‘Okay,’ Chloe agreed, deciding not to bother telling him that Skye hated the wine even more than she did. ‘As long as I get my telly.’

Tom reiterated that he would see what he could do, and then quietly eased the door open and crept back to his and Skye’s room.

Alone, Chloe stubbed out her dog-end and groped around in the dark for her wrap and tinfoil. After chasing a quick line, she lay back against the pillow and gazed up at the shadowed ceiling as she waited for the hit to kick in. The house was a dump and, so far, she hadn’t seen anything of any real value. But Tom obviously had money, and if she played her cards right she would probably be able to wheedle a tidy sum out of him in exchange for her silence. And when she was ready for the off, she’d have no problem carrying a nice little TV with a built-in DVD player out under her arm.

17

Jeff ought to have been getting back up to full physical strength now that his wound had healed and he’d finished his course of antibiotics. But the weight seemed to be dropping off him, and Shirley was becoming increasingly concerned as, day after day, she came home from work to find him slumped on the couch. The accusations that Andrea had levelled against him had knocked the stuffing right out of him, and he seemed to have resigned himself to the thought that Skye was dead.

Shirley had tried everything to cheer him up, but even she couldn’t deny that things were looking grim as each day passed with no news of the girl. So when the same two police officers who had called round a week earlier knocked on her door one evening she thought her fears had been realised and they had come to tell Jeff that Skye’s body had been found.

She didn’t notice the rest of the coppers who were behind Jones and Dean until she opened the door. Her legs turned to jelly when one of them informed her that they had a warrant to search the flat while the rest of them piled in.

She stumbled into the living room and watched in horror as Jones dragged Jeff roughly up off the couch and handcuffed him before reading him his rights and informing him that he was being arrested on suspicion of murdering his daughter and unlawfully disposing of her remains.

‘He’s innocent,’ she protested, following when Jones and Dean then hauled Jeff outside to a waiting van. ‘You know his wife’s lying, so why are you doing this? And how can you arrest him for murder if there isn’t even a body?’

‘Back off,’ Jones grunted, pushing her aside as Dean hustled Jeff into the cage at the back of the van and slammed the door shut.

‘My God,’ Shirley gasped when she saw the jubilant expression on his face. ‘Jeff was right about you; this
is
personal.’

Residents from the surrounding flats and maisonettes had started to gather on the pavement by then, and Jones cast a hooded glance in their direction, before saying quietly, ‘Listen, love, I don’t know if you’re just an idiot who’s fallen for Benson’s bullshit, or whether you’re in on this and have been helping him to cover his tracks. But I’ll find out, and if you
are
involved I’ll have you. Now back off and let us do our jobs, eh?’

‘How dare you threaten me,’ Shirley spluttered indignantly. ‘Your attitude is appalling. I’m going to report you.’

‘Knock yourself out,’ Jones drawled unconcernedly. ‘But it won’t get your boyfriend out any faster – I’ll make sure of that.’

Outraged, Shirley turned on her heel and started marching back to her flat. But when she heard the mutterings passing through the crowd, she stopped in her tracks and glared at them.

‘Haven’t you lot got anything better to do than revel in an innocent man’s misery? You should be ashamed of yourselves.’

‘We ain’t the ones who should be ashamed,’ a man who lived in a flat on the floor above shot back nastily. ‘You’re the one who’s been screwing the beast who killed his own kid. Help him hide the body, did you?’

‘Probably her idea to have his missus put away, an’ all,’ a woman asserted loudly, letting Shirley know that the gossip had well and truly reached them. ‘Brass-necked tart, that one; flouncing round like Lady bleedin’ Muck, just ’cos she can afford to buy her gaff while the rest of us are renting. Not so high and mighty now, though, is she?’

When several of the others voiced their agreement, Shirley shot the smug-looking woman a hateful glare and, raising her chin proudly, stalked up to her front door – only to be stopped from entering by the policewoman who was standing guard.

‘This is my flat,’ Shirley said, thinking that the woman hadn’t realised who she was. ‘I need to get my phone.’

Forced to step back when another copper walked out just then, carrying both her and Skye’s laptops in clear plastic bags, she said, ‘You can’t take that one, it’s mine.’

‘We’re seizing all computer equipment,’ he told her. ‘But everything’s being listed, so you should be able to claim back anything that’s yours when the case is over with.’

‘Jeff only used it a few times to look for jobs and a place to rent, so there won’t be anything on there that’s useful to you,’ Shirley argued. ‘And I need it for work.’

‘Sorry.’ The copper stepped around her and continued on his way.

Almost in tears by now, Shirley stamped her foot in frustration when she glanced down the hall and saw a gloved policeman pawing through the drawers in her bedroom.

‘That’s my room, not Jeff’s,’ she told the policewoman. ‘And those are my personal belongings.’

‘This is a murder investigation,’ the woman reminded her coolly. ‘Personal doesn’t come into it.’

‘But
I
’ve not been charged with anything,’ Shirley shot back self-righteously. ‘So I don’t understand what you think you’ll gain by searching my things.’

‘Won’t know till we’ve looked, will we?’ The policewoman shrugged and stood her ground.

‘I’m going to get my phone,’ Shirley said furiously, lunging towards the door.

‘Step back, madam.’ The policewoman put a hand on her chest and shoved her. ‘You’re not going in, and if you try again I’ll arrest you.’

Infuriated, Shirley balled her hands into fists, and yelled, ‘Will you people
please
stop pushing me around! This has got to be illegal.’

‘If you want to make a complaint, I’ll be happy to give you the details of who you need to contact before we leave,’ the woman told her smoothly.

‘Right, fine. I’ll wait.’ Shirley folded her arms. Then, raising an eyebrow when the copper stared at her, she said, ‘What? I’m outside, aren’t I? Or are you going to tell me
that
’s against the law now, as well?’

‘Can I have a word?’

Shirley jerked her head around at the sound of Jones’s voice and glared at him. ‘I bet you’re loving this, aren’t you?’

‘Oh, boy, he’s done a proper job on you, hasn’t he?’ Jones said. Then, sighing, his expression weary, he jerked his chin up at her. ‘Come to the car for a minute.’

‘Why? Am
I
under arrest now?’

‘Not yet. But I still want a word.’

Shirley stubbornly stayed put and watched as he walked over to a squad car and climbed behind the wheel. But curiosity got the better of her after a few seconds, and she followed reluctantly.

‘Go on, then,’ she snapped when she had climbed in beside him. ‘Say whatever you’ve got to say.’

‘Look, I know you think I’m a hard-nosed bastard and this is some kind of set-up,’ Jones started. ‘But I promise you it isn’t like that. And I’m only telling you this to save you a load of grief, because I’ve dealt with Benson loads of times in the past and I know how he operates.’

When Shirley rolled her eyes and tutted, he went on: ‘Believe it or not, I actually get why you fell for his Mr Nice Guy act, ’cos he even fooled
me
to start with. But I’ve seen the other side of him since then, and he’s not the mild-mannered bloke he makes himself out to be. He’s a thug who gets a kick out of beating his wife up and then scaring the shit out of her to make her retract her statement.’

‘No.’ Shirley shook her head. ‘You’re wrong about him.’

Jones gave her a pitying look. ‘You know what, you were right about this being personal. It is. But do you want to know why?’

‘Not really,’ Shirley muttered clippily. ‘But I suppose you’re going to tell me, anyway.’

‘I’m pissed off, that’s why,’ said Jones, anger glowing in his eyes as he spat the words out. ‘Pissed off that I spent so much time concentrating on Andrea, trying to make her see sense and let the assault charges stand, that I completely missed what was happening to that kid of theirs right under my nose.
That
’s why I want him to get what’s coming to him now. Not because of some stupid vendetta he’s invented in his head, but because I let that girl down – and I refuse to do it again.’

Shirley heard the sincerity in his voice and knew that he believed what he’d said. But she couldn’t accept it, because she knew the truth.

‘You do know it wasn’t Jeff who was beating Andrea up, don’t you?’ she told him. ‘It was the other way round. I’ve seen the bruises, and he confides in me.’

‘Come on, love.’ Jones gave a cynical little smile. ‘You don’t seriously believe a tiny woman like Andrea could beat up a big bloke like him, do you? Or that he’d have
let
her. Anyway, if that was true, how come he never mentioned it all those times she had him collared?’

‘Would you have believed him?’ Shirley asked. ‘No, I didn’t think so,’ she said when she saw the answer in his eyes. ‘Anyway, I can’t imagine many men would want to admit to something like that and have people think them weak, can you?’

She raised an eyebrow and waited for Jones to deny what she’d said. But when he just gazed evenly back at her, she sighed and said, ‘Look, Jeff might be guilty of being too proud for his own good, but that doesn’t mean he’s guilty of this. He’s one of the sweetest, gentlest men I’ve ever met, and he’s been out of his mind with worry about Skye these last few weeks. As for
Andrea
,’ she spat out the name, ‘she’s clearly still ill if she can say such terrible things, and I don’t understand why you’re giving her the time of day, if I’m honest.’

‘She’s got her issues, I’ll grant you that,’ Jones conceded. ‘And if she’d done her usual U-turn we wouldn’t be having this conversation. But she’s got nothing to lose by telling the truth this time, has she? When she found out about you and him, she knew it was over, and that’s when she decided to put an end to the lies.’