Case One (21 page)

Or perhaps not
only
Ashleigh if DS Woods was correct. And from the seriousness with which Ray Woods was treating this operation, Holly knew that he really did fear the worst – that the man called Bic might not only be abusing Ashleigh Jarvis's trust, but that of any number of others.

“They've cloned the SIM card,” Danny Simmons had told them when he returned to the Incident Room from Forensics. Then he'd passed a rather battered-looking mobile to Woods. “Anything we send from that will look as if it's coming from Ashleigh's number.”

“What about her real one?”

“Bagged and tagged in evidence. They copied all the data onto a CD. I called Mrs Jarvis at the hospital and said we'd be returning it tomorrow, just in case Ashleigh asks for it.”

“Okay,” Woods had said, then turned to Holly. “So now you're Ashleigh. You're lying in hospital, you've got your phone and your mum's just gone out for a cup of tea or something. What do you do?”

“Text Bic.”

Woods nodded and picked up a pen. “So what are you going to say?”

And so it had started.

The first text had been the hardest because it had to look natural and gain Bic's attention without raising suspicion. They'd talked about it, changed it and revised it for nearly twenty minutes before everyone was happy. Then Holly had copied the message off the whiteboard and onto the phone and pressed
send
.

And then the first wait, but only for a few minutes. In the meantime Woods had put in a call to the hospital and Holly had heard him bartering a favour with a nurse. By the time he'd done that the cloned phone had chimed.

“I'll bet he's worried,” Danny said dryly when Holly had finished reading the text aloud. “Worried about what she's saying.”

“And he knows she's in hospital,” Woods said. He looked to Holly. “Okay, so what's Ashleigh want to say now?”

“I think she'd want to sound cheerful,” Holly said. “You know, pretend it's better than it is.”

The next reply was faster, as if the man at the other end of the connection was giving it his full attention now.

“Okay, we're going,” Woods said. “We'll reply on the way.”

Holly had sent the last text from the back seat of Woods's car as they drove to the hospital. Ten minutes later a staff nurse showed them to the empty room at the end of a corridor on Stainsby Ward – a floor below Ashleigh's real room – and then the waiting had begun.

“He'll come or he won't,” Woods had said in answer to Holly's unspoken question as they looked round the empty room. “No way to tell.”

And now, an hour later, they were still waiting.

Looking out of the window and watching the afternoon sky getting darker, Holly thought about Ashleigh Jarvis in a room upstairs, oblivious to what was going on below her.

Holly knew it wouldn't be hard for Ashleigh to put on the make-up and clothes to pass for eighteen or nineteen: they all could. And Holly wasn't so perfect that she hadn't blagged her way into pubs and clubs that way herself. Not often, true, and not since she'd been accepted as a TPO, but enough that she understood the ripple of excitement at getting away with it and the addictiveness of being treated as an adult. When it happened the world looked different, and afterwards it was hard to go back to being your real age again.

Pretending to be Ashleigh – if only in texts ­– had felt strange and Holly had mixed feelings about it. She didn't doubt that Ashleigh was in love with Bic, but by setting out to find him Holly and the others were going to destroy that. Perhaps worse though – at least to Ashleigh – would be the fact that they had made her feel like a kid again, not the adult she wanted to be.

And maybe she wasn't so different to Ashleigh, Holly thought. After all, they both had their secrets, and every time she put on her uniform Holly was also pretending to be older and more worldly than she really was. She had just as much chance as Ashleigh of getting in over her head; just as much chance of being exposed for what she really was.

This last thought wasn't a comfortable one, but Holly found it hard to shift. So when Danny Simmons opened the door of the room with a Coke and a coffee in his hands Holly was glad of the distraction.

“Anything?” he asked, nodding at the phone.

Holly shook her head. “Where's the DS?”

“End of the corridor. He went to talk to the nurses.”

Danny put the drinks down and looked at his watch. Holly didn't bother to ask what he thought. She knew there was still no way to tell whether this was going to work.

“Is it okay if I nip out for a couple of minutes?” she asked.

“Best not. Why?”

“Loo break – unless you've got a bed pan.”

Danny made a play of patting his pockets. “Sorry, all out – okay, but don't hang about though.”

“I won't.”

18

Charlie liked Sundays. Usually. Even though he knew it was supposed to be boring and dull and always the same, it was the predictability of the routine that made it reassuring: Sunday-best clothes, then church, then a roast lunch. Later: ironing, homework, getting ready for the week ahead. Some TV in the evening, bath or a shower, then bed in good time. That was always how it went.

But not today. Lunch had been late, and then the atmosphere had been sullen and quiet because Ryan hadn't appeared like he was supposed to and that had annoyed their father. Then, after they'd eaten more or less in silence, Leyton Atkins had spent an hour on the phone trying to get the insurance company to provide him with the hire car he thought he was entitled to but which they said he wasn't. Without the car he'd have to take three different buses to get to work, and after recent lay-offs at the joinery factory, Charlie knew his dad was worried about being late and putting his job on the line.

Charlie was worried too – about what Tyler Smith would do next. And he was also angry with himself – for not having done something before, for not standing up to Tyler yesterday in the stairwell. What he
should
have done was tell him then:
Leave me alone or I go to the cops and say who was in the minimart
.

Charlie wished now that he'd told Ryan about all this last night when he'd had the chance. He hadn't because he didn't want to seem like a useless kid, but he'd have swallowed his pride and explained things to Ryan if he'd appeared for lunch. So when he didn't, Charlie knew there was no choice: he would have to do something himself, before it got worse.

“I'm just going down to the rec area,” he told his father.

“Be back before it's dark,” Mr Atkins said without looking up from the insurance paperwork. Not a request.

Charlie nodded. “Might be sooner. I'll see who's there.”

“And don't get those jeans filthy.”

“I won't,” Charlie said.

He left the sitting room and slipped into the kitchen for a moment. When he came out he took his jacket from the peg, then went along the hall and twisted the door lock. “See you later,” he called, and he was gone.

19.

STAINSBY WARD
QUEEN VICTORIA HOSPITAL
16:22 HRS

As Holly emerged from the toilet she almost walked into Lauren Booth. The girl was carrying a coat over her arm and a bunch of flowers in her hand. She was looking at the room numbers as she went along the corridor and perhaps for that reason she didn't immediately recognise Holly. When she did she seemed surprised.

“Oh, hiya,” she said. “I was looking for Ash's room. Do you know where it is?”

“She's upstairs,” Holly said. “Hucknall Ward.”

“Oh. I thought it was Stainsby.”

“No. Sorry.”

“Oh, okay. I'll try up there then. Thanks.”

Lauren turned and started back towards the lifts, just as Holly thought of something.

“Lauren, hang on a sec. Who told you that Ashleigh was here, on this floor?”

Lauren frowned. “How do you mean?”

“Did you call the hospital to find out which ward she was on?”

“No, it was my dad.”

Holly glanced round. “Is he with you?”

Lauren shook her head. “He stayed in the car. Why?”

“Oh, no reason, just wondered. Say hi to Ashleigh for me.”

“I will.”

She waited until Lauren had gone back around the corner, then moved quickly to Room 7.

DS Woods was standing with his back to the window when she entered and Danny Simmons looked up from the chair.

“Find a bed pan?”

Holly ignored him and looked to Woods. “Sarge, the hospital's telling anyone who rings or comes in that Ashleigh can't have visitors at the moment, aren't they?”

“Yeah.” Woods nodded. “Why?”

“I just saw Lauren Booth in the corridor. She was coming here to see Ashleigh.”

“Here? This room?” Danny Simmons asked.

“Yeah. She said her dad had called to find out where Ashleigh was, but if the hospital's saying no visitors…” She didn't bother to finish the sentence. She could see Woods coming to the same conclusion that she had.

“Was he with her?” Woods asked.

“No. Lauren said he was waiting in the car.”

Woods took out his radio. “Delta Mike from DS Woods. Vehicle check, please. Any vehicle with a registered keeper Colin Booth, 165 Escott Road.”

“
Received. Standby.
”

Woods picked up the mobile from the bedside cabinet and turned to Danny Simmons. “Stay here in case we're wrong,” he said.

“
DS Woods from Delta Mike. Re your vehicle check: only one vehicle shown for that address. Registered keeper Colin Ian Booth. A silver Vauxhall Astra. Index Yankee Papa 54 Alpha Alpha Echo.
”

“Received. Thanks.”

Holly scribbled the number down on the back of her hand with a biro and then she realised.

“Sarge – Colin Ian Booth – C.I.B. Backwards that's Bic.”

Woods looked at her, then gestured to Danny. “Forget staying,” he said. “Come on. Sharpish.”

And he was heading for the door before Danny Simmons was out of the chair.

20

Taz knew that Bex was putting it on, swinging between tears and anger and making out that it was because of the cider. She'd drunk nearly two cans – her own and most of Taz's – but Taz knew Bex wasn't really drunk and she was tired of the pretence. All she wanted to do was go in out of the cold.

She'd finally managed to persuade Bex to go back to hers, but as they headed towards Cranham House Bex spotted Tyler Smith and Skank standing together looking morose. There was no sign of Drew, which was good, but instead of keeping away from the two boys, Bex changed direction towards them.

“They can tell Drew,” she said when Taz protested. “They can bloody tell him I'm not seeing him no more.
I'm
dumping
him
.”

When Skank saw them approaching he nudged Tyler. “Oi-oi. Reckon we've pulled,” he said.

Tyler looked, but with no real interest. He was still stinging from Drew's earlier bollocking and he was in no mood for Skank's lame jokes, or a pair of stupid girls – especially when one of them was Drew's bird.

“All right, girls,” Skank said with a leer. He moved forward to meet them. “What's up?”

At first Charlie wasn't sure that the figure at the back of the group
was
Tyler Smith. He was with another lad and a couple of girls and Charlie could only see his back. One of the girls was making exaggerated gestures and speaking loudly, laying down the law. It wasn't until the other lad saw Charlie and said something that Tyler looked round.

In that moment Charlie hesitated. When Tyler came away from the others and marched towards him, Charlie strengthened his determination to go through with this. He had the reassurance in his pocket to help quell the weightless sensation he felt in his stomach, but he could see that Tyler's expression was brooding and malevolent.

“What you want, Choirboy?” Tyler demanded. “Didn't you get enough?”

“I've had enough of you,” Charlie said, barely knowing where the words came from. He stopped a couple of metres from Tyler. “That's why I'm here. Cos if you do anything like that again I'm going to the police. I'm going to tell them what I saw, at the shop.”

Tyler took a moment, as if he was surprised that Charlie was answering back when he should have been running. “Do that and you're dead,” he said.

Charlie refused to let himself move. He shook his head. “Just stay away,” he said. “I— I mean it. You do anything again and I'm going to the cops.”

Then, without waiting for a reply, he let himself turn and start back the way he'd come. He wanted to hurry, but he made himself stay calm. Three paces, four…

“Oi, Choirboy!”

Charlie heard the shout but didn't react until he heard quickening steps coming after him. With the sound came a jump from his heart and the instinct to break into a run – but as soon as he felt it, something snapped.

It was part fear and part anger, but part of it was also the knowledge that he couldn't get away now and he'd have to finish what he'd started.

So he turned to face Tyler and as he did so his hand came out of his jacket pocket, fingers locked round the handle of the kitchen knife. It was no more than a second before Tyler was on him, and in that moment Charlie felt the odd, half resistant, half yielding sensation of the knife blade piercing through fabric and flesh.