DEAD GONE (18 page)

‘I know …’

‘So tell me.’

Rebecca sighed, still not meeting Rossi’s eyes. ‘I don’t know.’

‘You don’t know what?’

Finally, she faced her. ‘I don’t know where he was. But he wouldn’t hurt Donna. I know he wouldn’t.’

‘I should arrest you right now. You should have told us straight away.’

‘I know, I know, but he told me you’d all think he did it. I swear he didn’t though. I didn’t see him that night, but he left his mates in town around eleven. He was going home, he was really tired and he had some work to do for the next day. He was texting me the whole time, I promise. He’s not like that at all.’

Rossi’s phone vibrated in her pocket. She took it out, checking the display. Murphy. ‘I’ve got to take this, stay right there.’

‘I’ve got to go, you can’t make me stay.’

Shit. ‘Listen, I’m going to take a full statement from you tomorrow. Be at your flat at eleven. Okay?’

Rebecca nodded, and slipped away as Rossi answered the phone.

Murphy didn’t go back there very often, but sitting in his car outside the house sometimes set his mind at ease. Knowing she was there, just out of reach, gave him a strange sense of comfort. He looked at his watch, seeing it was almost 10 p.m. A solitary light shining from behind the drawn curtains in the living room suggested someone was still awake.

The house which was once so familiar to him now seemed alien. Murphy looked from the side window, trying to decide what to do. He wanted to walk up the path, open the front door as if nothing had ever happened. Murphy sighed to himself and shook his head.

He wanted to know what happened. How had it come to this point?

The man’s face kept appearing easily to him as it always did. It was burned on his memory like a brand on cattle, and just as painful. He closed his eyes, trying to shake it free, knowing it wouldn’t go easily. The night stretched out in front of him, weariness bearing down on him.

She was only yards away. Murphy imagined getting out of the car, walking up the short path, the door opening and that warm welcome he’d receive. Or the slap in his face, maybe. Whichever it was, he wanted to feel it.

He wanted to feel anything other than the pain which had shadowed him for the past year.

Murphy looked back at the house once more, happier memories replacing the horror of
that
face. He didn’t know which he preferred. Sadness or anger.

He turned the car back on, deciding to leave and not go any further.

He didn’t see the curtain twitch in the house. Sarah, his wife, looking out of the window at him as he drove away.

Murphy arrived home, his stomach growling from hunger. It was late. He sat in his car for a few moments, his street quiet, a few houses with lights on. Not even eleven p.m. and people were already going to bed.

He really was a long way from home. Over the water, as they say, referring to the Wirral. Separated from Liverpool by the River Mersey. Scousers were nothing if not imaginative.

He entered his house, hanging the keys on the board of hooks on the wall. A housewarming gift from Jess. He checked for any messages from her. Nothing. Which probably meant she was going to turn up any second.

He felt uneasy. Had been for a few hours. It took a while before he realised what it was.

Guilt. For the way he’d spoken to Rossi earlier. Tiredness had affected the way he reacted to her concern and he’d overreacted. He needed her on his side. Especially now. He pulled out his phone and scrolled through his contacts.

‘Laura?’ There was loud music in the background, dance, from the sound of the bass over the phone speaker. Murphy held the phone a little way from his ear. ‘Can you hear me?’

‘Hang on a sec, sir.’

Murphy waited as Rossi moved away from the noise.

‘Can you hear me now?’

‘Yeah,’ Murphy replied. ‘Is it a bad time?’

‘No. Not at all. What’s happened?’

Murphy stroked his beard with his free hand, moving through to his living room. ‘Nothing. I just wanted to say sorry about today. I shouldn’t have snapped like that. You’re doing a good job.’

‘Oh. Thanks.’

‘Listen, we need to start going through the list of people at the university tomorrow morning. So we should concentrate there,’ Murphy continued.

Murphy could hear loud voices over the phone. ‘Definitely, sir.’

‘Where are you, Laura?’

‘Nowhere. Listen, I’ve got to go. Speak to you later.’

Murphy stared at his phone, the call ending before he had chance to say anything more.

Strange.

He shook it off. He needed to eat, but couldn’t be bothered even to go through the freezer. He grabbed a takeaway menu from the kitchen and rang through and sat in front of the TV as the minutes passed by.

His mind wouldn’t shut off, a constant array of images mixing into each other. Possibilities, questions.

His thoughts were interrupted by the door bell.

‘Hello, Bear.’

‘Oh, Jess. Wasn’t expecting you.’ Jess bounced on her heels, her bright auburn hair hanging loose on her shoulders.

‘Thought you could do with some company. Plus you’ve got Sky and I haven’t.’

She got on her tiptoes and threw her right arm around him in a quick hug. Murphy let Jess past him, following in her path as she shed her hat, scarf, gloves and coat seemingly at once. She put her hands on the radiator in the living room, as Murphy hung up her coat and accessories properly. ‘You know, you could at least attempt to be tidy,’ Murphy said.

‘Fuck off. It’s freezing out there. Not that you’d notice with all that fat behind you. Can you at least turn the heating up a bit?’

Murphy sighed. ‘It’s not fat, I’m just naturally big,’ and went to turn up the thermostat, trying to remember a time when Jess had called ahead before a visit, failing to recall one. He looked through to the living room, where she’d already made herself comfortable, kicking off her high heels and stretching out on the couch, her feet tucked underneath her. ‘Where’s your Peter?’ he said, raising his voice so she could hear him from the kitchen.

‘Staying at a mate’s or something. I tell you, that kid is getting worse by the day.’

‘That’s teenagers for you. Remember what we were like?’

‘God, I hope he’s not that bad.’

No one understood their relationship. She was attractive in her own unique way. Her natural confidence shone. Bright auburn shoulder-length hair, which only Murphy knew came from a bottle. Just the right amount of curves, dark smooth skin.

And he’d never in almost twenty years of knowing her, wanted anything more than what they had. He knew she felt the same way.

She’d been a single parent for almost all of her son’s life. Never really getting involved with anyone else. She’d told Murphy she just wasn’t interested in making things more complicated, but he wasn’t so sure it was just about that. Fear probably played as much a part of it as anything else.

‘There, you moaning bint,’ Murphy said, walking back into the living room. ‘What brings you anyway? I’d just ordered pizza.’

‘Meat feast?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Good, I’m starving.’

The pizza arrived and Murphy was forcing a second slice down, his appetite not as strong as he’d thought.

‘I’ve got this case this week, you won’t believe it,’ Jess said, taking the pepperoni from the box where Murphy had taken it off his slice. ‘Some lad tried to rob a bookies. Went with a balaclava over his head, and pretended to have something under his jacket.’

‘Go on,’ Murphy said, taking a bite. Savouring it, trying to jump start his hunger.

‘Well, as it happens, his mum worked at a bookies.’

‘No way …’

Jess started laughing. ‘Yeah. He only tried to rob the same shop she works in. He gets to the counter, demands money, and she just goes “Our Mark, what are ya doin’”. He says “sorry Mum”, and runs out. Ton of witnesses, and he pleads not guilty. And I get to defend him. Sometimes I wonder why I do this job.’

Jess had gone to university late, studied hard and become a lawyer at age thirty. Murphy had been at her graduation, proud as punch of his friend. They were two success stories from an estate which didn’t have all that many.

‘So why’d you come around?’ he said between mouthfuls.

‘Worried about you again.’

‘I’m okay. Doing better.’

‘How long have we known each other? Since we were sixteen, both hanging around Speke parade, getting pissed on cheap cider. I know you. You’re not okay. You look knackered. I bet you haven’t been sleeping. Ever since the first murder.’

‘Just getting back into the swing of things, that’s all. It’s been a while since the last one.’

‘Since last year?’

Murphy stood up and went through to the kitchen, giving a quiet confirmatory nod to Jess on the way past. He pulled a glass from the cupboard and ran himself a glass of water.

‘I heard about what happened today. With the press.’

Murphy grunted. ‘Parasites.’

‘The Phillips girl was mentioned I heard.’

‘Yeah. I should probably get used to that.’

Jess pulled out her phone, checked it, then placed it on the arm of her chair. ‘What happened there?’

‘I already told you.’

‘Not properly.’ Jess had followed him into the kitchen, sauce from the pizza smudging her chin. ‘She was killed by her stalker wasn’t she? What could you have done?’

Murphy drank half the water in one go. ‘I screwed up. I should have taken it all more seriously when she came down to the station.’

‘You saw her?’

‘Yeah. She turned up one day in bits. Crying like you wouldn’t believe. I just happened to be there in reception. Told her I’d help. I didn’t.’

Jess tapped a finger against her bottom lip. ‘This was when, like, a few weeks after the funeral?’

‘About that?’

‘And she had a case ongoing anyway?’

‘Of course.’

‘Then I don’t understand how you can blame yourself for that. How did that paper get your name involved anyway?’

Murphy shrugged. ‘How they get anything these days. They ask the families, look for juicy angles to sell their papers. I just happened to have been in the news only a few weeks before, so that was their connection.’

‘You ever speak to anyone about things other than me?’

‘Don’t need to,’ Murphy said, sliding past her to go back in the living room.

‘Yes you do. Bear, you don’t just get over something like what happened to you. You need help.’

‘I’m fine.’ Murphy picked up his half-eaten slice of pizza, taking a bite.

‘Have you spoken to Sarah at all?’ Jess said, moving back to the couch.

Murphy looked up at the only picture in the living room. The four of them, together. Smiling.

‘No,’ he replied. ‘No plan to either.’

Jess shook her head. ‘You’re going to have to at some point. She deserves better than this.’

‘Does she? You think?’

‘It wasn’t her fault,’ Jess replied, swinging her legs out from underneath her. ‘She didn’t know.’

‘Are you kidding me? You know her past. Tell me, is she using again?’

Jess stood up. ‘You think I’d be pushing you into talking to her if she was?’

Murphy turned away from her stare. ‘I don’t know what to think. Why are you so close to her all of sudden?’

‘Because she lost as well. And there’s no one else helping her.’

Murphy sighed. ‘I’ll talk to her. I just need time, okay.’

Jess nodded. ‘Good. Now about this case …’

‘I’m fine,’ Murphy interrupted.

‘No, you’re fucking not,’ Jess said, her voice bouncing back off the walls. ‘You’re working a murder case, and your head’s not right. It hasn’t been right for over a year, which is understandable, considering.’ Jess was still standing, her right hand on her hip, giving him the cold stare he’d become familiar with over the years.

Murphy swallowed the food, reached for the glass of water. ‘I don’t want to talk to some stranger about what happened.’

‘You didn’t talk to me about it.’

‘What am I supposed to say, Jess?’ Murphy said, his voice raising. ‘My parents died, they were … they died, okay.’

‘That’s just it, Bear. They didn’t just die in their sleep. They were killed, murdered. And you found …’

Murphy stood up. ‘Don’t, I don’t want to fucking talk about it. Understand?’

‘You’re going to have to, otherwise it’ll eat you alive. I know you. You can’t just shove this down inside yourself. It has to come out.’

‘Not now.’

‘Fine,’ Jess replied, her hands slapping against her sides in frustration. ‘If you don’t want any help, I won’t waste my time. Just remember, I was here after it happened, I’ve always been here. You shutting me out won’t change that.’ She left the room, appearing a minute later with her coat on.

‘You don’t have to go, Jess,’ Murphy said, moving towards her.

She shrank back, turning her back to him. ‘Yeah, yeah I do. Before I have to smack some sense into you. You know where I am.’

She left Murphy standing alone in his living room.

In the house paid for with his parents’ blood. Lost in his own thoughts as he dropped onto the couch and stared at the wall, past the television.

Gone.

His hand pushed open the living room door, as if unconnected to his body. Everything about the situation called for him to stop. He knew what would lie behind it, yet he couldn’t help himself.

All was red.

He took one step into the room. Across the wall were words but he didn’t read them at that moment. Instead, his vision focused on the main area of living room floor, where the coffee table was supposed to be.

His mum had prided herself on her home, spending hours making sure it looked just right, just so. Now it was disorder, chaos; the TV in the corner upended, the sofa cushions thrown to the side. The coffee table had one leg broken off, tipped over and in the opposite corner, Mum’s ornaments from the mantelpiece lying smashed and broken on the fireplace.

He saw his dad first, his face a mask of blood, lying on his back, one arm to the side, the other across his chest. His dad’s white shirt was saturated, turning an odd muddy red colour. He could see holes where something had gone through the shirt, ripping into his stomach and chest.