Force Of Habit v5 (22 page)

‘We'll get him for you, sir!’ A group came out after him. ‘You're dead, Weirdo!’

Danny kept going as the crow flies, across the yard and onto the playing field. He scrambled up an embankment, through a whole in the mesh fencing and dashed onto the railway lines. A horn blared and several hundred tons of screeching metal bore down him, wheels screaming, sparks flying as the brakes engaged and metal ground into metal. By the time it pulled to a halt he was nowhere in sight.

Several teachers appeared and sent the kids back inside while the driver and guard searched the track. Everyone waited. Everyone feared the worst. Minutes went by without a sign of him. They all started searching the embankment. He must have been tossed into it. Everyone moved among the tall grass and weeds hoping they wouldn’t be the one to find him.

A passenger rolled down a door window and gobbed off. What did they think they were playing at? He was going to be late for a very important meeting. They expressed their fears concerning the Ward boy.

‘Short fat thing in a gimp outfit?’

They nodded.

‘Thank fuck for that. He went that way,’ the man pointed, ‘faster than Usain Bolt. I thought I was seeing things.’

TWENTY-SIX

If he’d blinked he would have missed it. The eyes had opened and flicked in the direction of the phone vibrating on the bedside table, the ringtone switched off. Then they were closed again. Her moaning had paused, briefly, and then resumed, louder in an attempt to cover the tell. He thrust harder and faster and she responded to his every move, pushing up against him, stroke for stroke but there was no mistaking what he had seen. He pounded into her, anger driving every stroke until his face contorted and he cried out. He closed his eyes and groaned, finishing. She kept on until she was sure he was done.

He pulled out and sat astride her rolling the condom from his shrinking dick. She reached out to him but he pushed her back. He dropped the condom and it slapped onto her belly. She left it there above the rose tattoo and watched him clamber off and begin dressing. He refused to meet her eyes. He was filled with anger, shame and pain. He had thought that she had really grown to like him. That she had looked forward to his visits as much as he had but there was no mistaking the contempt he had seen in her eyes. The hatred. He was just another punter to her.

‘I won’t be coming anymore.’

She couldn't help laughing at him. He looked like a spoilt little boy. He was pathetic.

Him and her?

Really?

As if.

What a loser.

He stepped forward, fist raised. That wiped the smile off her face.

‘Don't be silly Kenneth, you know the tax.’

His face dropped. She saw a brief moment of fear in it and her smile returned.

‘Ah, don’t be like that Kenneth. You'll be back.’

She was right and it made him feel even worse. All the anger drained from him. He picked up his jacket, pulled out a wad and threw it at her. It separated and fell around her. She mouthed a kiss at him.

He pulled his jacket on as he went out the front door, fishing for his phone. His thumb worked the screen, looking for his missed call. North watched him. He felt his own phone vibrate as it took the call. He let it go to voicemail as he watched Scanlan disappear into the stairwell at the other end of the landing and waited for him to appear down below. He watched him get into his car and drive away. He had a little think about it all. Then he called him again.

‘What do you want?’ Scanlan answered straight away this time. The pissed off tone matched the body language North had seen.

‘Darren Ward,’ said North, ‘gang name, Blu. Have you heard of him?’

Silence.

Of course he had heard of him, he had just left his fucking house. He must be mulling over whether he should tell North if he did or didn’t.

‘Why?’

Either he hadn’t seen the CCTV pictures or heard the APB that was put out on Ward and his mate for the arson, or he was playing silly buggers. What was Arnie up to?

‘He’s been ID’d as a possible for the arson job.’

More silence.

‘So do you know him or not? He’s a juvenile suspected of being in the Choirboys, I thought he may have blipped on your radar before now.’

‘No. Yeah. No.’

‘Are you okay?’

What the Hell was he involved in?

‘Sorry, I’m on a case right now. I’m a bit distracted.’

Bull-shit!

‘Yeah, I know him. If he did it it’s a bit of a step up. He’s just another little rip. I know his school and where he lives, I can check up on him if you want.’

‘That’s okay, you keep on with what you have. I’ll deal with it.’

‘You sure? It’s no trouble.’

You wish
. And this has trouble all over it.

‘Thanks, but no. I will need your help with some background info so I’ll catch up with you later.’

North rang off.

He had already called Darren Ward’s school. He wasn’t there. He hadn’t been in all week.

He knocked four times. If he hadn’t seen Scanlan leave he would have assumed there was no one home. No one answered. Nothing stirred. No music or TV. He listened through the letterbox. All was still. He knocked again and kept on knocking. The door finally opened and an angry face appeared, cursing. Then it rearranged itself and smiled.

‘Sorry,’ she looked him up and down. ‘I thought you were someone else.’

She couldn’t have been more than seventeen or eighteen underneath all that fake tan, hair extensions, false eyelashes and make-up.

‘Is your mam in?’

‘No. Who’s asking?’

‘Darren in?’

‘No, I’m on me own. What has the little shit done now?’

Exactly what North was thinking about Arnie. He comes out dressing himself and this girl is home alone?

‘Are you a fed? You don’t look like no fed.’

‘So I’m told,’ he offered his ID. ‘Can I come in?’ He would rather check the place out than simply take her word for it.

She stood aside but not far enough for him to avoid brushing past her. She just couldn't help herself. She thought she was God's gift and obviously craved any male attention.

The layout was similar to Lumsden's place. He went straight on, past a kitchen stacked with dirty dishes, rubbish littering the surfaces and the beginning of an unpleasant odour tainting the air - the similarity continued. He had a flashback to Lumsden's broken, bleeding body as he entered the living room. At some point the door had come off its hinges and it was propped behind the settee. Photos lined the windowsill, TV and mantle. All were of three kids, all at various stages in their young lives.

‘Are they your brothers?’

She looked at the photos and made a face like it pained her. She was the third kid. There were no photos of a fourth. Of Dawn.

‘Does it look like it?

‘No, but you don't see too many live-in au pairs round this way.’

She giggled.

‘What is your name?’

‘Chelsea.’

Some people have no shame, calling their kids after cockney football clubs.

‘None of you are exactly dead ringers.’

‘Thank fuck. It’s because we all have different dad's, not that any of us ever new them. What can I say? Our mam's a right dirty bitch. Thank God I must have got the handsome one. She was quite pretty too, once, before life round here ravaged her looks. Later she couldn't be so choosy about her blokes so those poor little bastards didn’t have a chance. None of them hung around very long. She's a lesbian now. She doesn't know I know. I was meant to be away for a few days, a bloke I know had to go to Manchester for work and invited me along only his wife decides to chuck a sicky last minute and tag along for the shopping. He made it up to me though. Some blokes know how to treat a girl right. I was already in a taxi to the station and headed straight back. My heart went into my mouth when I opened the door. For a split second I thought she was in trouble, before I recognised the sounds. She must have been gagging for it because I couldn't have been gone thirty minutes, the mucky cow. She obviously doesn't want us to know. Well, you wouldn't would you? Not at her age. Not your mam. So she tells the boys it’s work and me that she's going on a bender and that she doesn't want the boys to see her like that and disappears for a few days every now and then. She’s with her now, been gone all week. I suppose you can't really blame her, the men she's had, all treating her like shit. You won't catch me getting knocked up until I've got a rock the size of Cheryl Cole’s on my finger. I'm going to get out of this shithole. I meet plenty of the right kind of fellas who can make it happen: footballers, agents, people who have already got me a bit of modelling.’

The girl obviously never shut up. North didn’t know how anyone could stand it. She was doing his head in already.

‘The new Jordan, eh?’

‘Why not. She came from a place just like this - only I wouldn't be daft enough to let Peter Andre go.’

She giggled and worked the sexy-cute routine. It came naturally to her around any man just in case they had enough cash or might come in handy. North was reminded of the woman who'd given him the come on at City Hall. This one looked twenty-one but talked twelve. Scanlan must have had his bollocks kicked up into his head at some point, it was the only explanation for his thinking. He could go down for this, even if she was seventeen or eighteen now, when did it start? North hoped he had sense enough to at least be taking precautions, she could be exposing herself to all sorts.

‘Do you look after yourself?’

‘What do you think?’ she stuck her hands on her hips, let a leg slip free and thrust her boobs at him.

‘I mean health wise. Do you take precautions?’

‘What, you think you're getting some of this? Dream on. I'm just fucking with you. You can't afford this.’

So how was Scanlan settling up?

‘I'm serious.’

‘I can take care of myself just fine. I only go to the best places. You have to be able to pay to play.’

It was like trying to get through rock with rubber.

‘I meant do you take precautions?’

‘I take the pill and never forget. There’s two reasons never to forget living right here.’

‘What about condoms?’

‘If they want, but get real, most want pussy not plastic and I'm not selling it to bums on street corners. They treat me nice. Real nice.’

‘There are health risks. Have you had many infections?’

‘Just the usual stuff.’

‘The usual stuff?’

‘Yeah, you know, just chlamydia a couple of times, gonorrhoea, its no biggy, everyone gets them. I make sure that I get checked out every now and then and if I've got something, you never know with chlamydia it’s a right sneaky bitch, they just give you a prescription and it all clears up. No worries.’

Kids today are on a different planet.

‘You got any more brothers or sisters?’

She shook her head.

‘Fuck knows how not. She didn't have me until she was in her thirties. That's about all the luck me mam ever had.’

Was she completely unaware of Dawn Ward’s existence? Her head seemed to create an alternative reality to the one she found herself in. She saw herself as a desirable object that would be given the life of luxury it deserved, each user and abuser a potential saviour. She was like those sad fuckers on TV that everyone laughs at because they truly believe that they are the next Lady Gaga but actually sound like a scalded cat on hot coals being strangled. Her most likely peak would come as a bit part in a tabloid expose of some married celebrity and she would lap it up. Get some lad mag money and a taste of some really base reality TV, if she was lucky. And she’d love every minute of it.

‘When are you expecting your mam back?’

She shrugged.

‘Do you know if they have been going to school?’ he indicated the boys’ photos.

She snorted. ‘Danny will be but Daz,’ she shrugged again. ‘He's turning into a right little shit.’

Some imagination had been at work: Donna, Dawn, Darren and Danny. North took it back - someone had been thinking way outside the Ward box when they came up with Chelsea.

There was a knock at the door. She acted like she didn't hear. It came again.

‘Aren't you going to answer that?’

‘It's probably the Jehovah's.’

She obviously thought that it was Scanlan come back and she didn't want North to see him. North went to the door and opened it. Two women. One in uniform.

‘Guv?’ said the PCW.

North looked back inside. Chelsea Ward seemed relieved to see it was some other copper outside and not Scanlan.

‘I thought you were on that murder case,’ said the PCW. ‘Have you been reassigned?’

North shook his head. ‘What's occurring?’

‘This is Mrs Shepherd from Social Services.’ North gave her a smile. The PCW leaned in, lowered her voice. ‘The girl’s mother is in intensive care.’

‘You better come in,’ said North.

He watched the social worker break the news. Watched Chelsea Ward turn into a scared little girl who wanted her mam. She cried. Sobbed. The social worker tried to console her.

‘What happened?’

‘Apparently she was run over, I haven't seen her. I just got the call to accompany the social worker. She was in hospital as a Jane Doe, unconscious and no ID, so they ran her prints and got a match.’

‘Why the social? The daughter can take care of the boys once she settles. I can sort a lift to the hospital and back for them all.’

‘There's another daughter?’

‘No.’ North looked at the girl. She was in hysterics, mascara running down her cheeks.

‘They grow up too fast nowadays,’ said the PCW.

North felt his stomach drop about a foot and a half.

‘How old is she?’

‘Fifteen.’

Jesus H Christ on a bike
.

Long gone were the days when you could tell jail bait when you saw it but Scanlan surely knew her age. That's who he looked after, juveniles. North's stomach turned over.

‘That's why we're here. Social knows the family and we went to Chelsea's school first. She hasn't been in for a few days, so we came here. What are you doing here?’