One Bad Turn (5 page)

‘I think you’ll need to sit down for this.’ Coupland said quietly.

Chapter 3

Afternoon briefing, Wednesday

Coupland stood beside Mallender as he read from the notes he and Ashcroft had taken during the morning. ‘Ten people work at Donald Gillespie; all but two went out for a drink on Tuesday evening. The PA couldn’t get a babysitter and the office junior didn’t have any money although it was more likely she wanted to spend the evening with a new boyfriend. They went to the pub up the road from the office - The Dog and Duck - stayed there until people started heading home just before last orders. The next day was a work day so no one was on a bender. Sharon caught the bus with a couple of colleagues; she was the last to get off. The others don’t remember anyone paying Sharon particular attention but then by their own admission they were all a little bit tipsy.’

Mallender nodded, ‘Have we requested CCTV from the bus company?’

‘We’re already on it, Guv.’ Coupland turned back to his notes, ‘Her boss, Gordon Gillespie, had nothing but good things to say about her, I got the impression he meant it too, not just the lip service that’s often meted out after a tragedy. I don’t think there was anything going on between them, either; though that’s not to say the boyfriend didn’t have a jealous streak. They were closing up as we left, Gillespie was sending everyone home. “No one’s going to get any work done anyway; we need time to process it all,” was pretty much how he summed it up.’

The DCI considered this, ‘No petty jealousies, then? She wasn’t up for a promotion someone else felt more entitled to?’ Coupland shook his head. ‘It doesn’t fit.’ The attack was too violent for an angry colleague, Sharon’s work mates weren’t particularly burly, there was more chance of one of them jabbing her with a letter opener in a fit of pique than smashing her skull with a rock. Mallender addressed Turnbull: ‘How about the Neo Nazi groups?’ Turnbull shuddered, ‘Went to the Salford headquarters of the British Defence League and persuaded them to show me their membership list. No recent additions, no one transferred into the area, same crackpots there’s always been…They claim they don’t advocate violence, that anyone even remotely showing violent tendencies would be reported to us anyway.’

‘You believe that?’

‘No…but Sharon Mather’s murder is an extreme step. I had a look at their events diary on their website and there haven’t been any members meetings recently, their last rally was in March, so there’s been nothing to stir anyone up or put fresh ideas into a potential wacko’s head.’

‘So it could be a standalone extremist?’ Several pairs of eyes locked onto Turnbull as he shrugged, ‘Could be…I’ve trawled through the national crime database to identify racially motivated offenders going back over the last five years, discounting those who are already enjoying a break courtesy of Her Majesty, a couple are now dead…Natural causes,’ he added.

‘A real loss to the gene pool that is,’ Coupland threw in. Several grunts of agreement followed. ‘Some have moved out of the area,’ Turnbull added, ‘but that still leaves sixty five names that need to be traced, interviewed and eliminated.’ Mallender turned to Robinson, ‘You able to give him a hand?’ Robinson nodded. ‘I’ve completed background checks on both the victim and her boyfriend; apart from their mortgage they didn’t have any outstanding debt. No county court judgements, not even an outstanding parking fine. Neighbours said they both seemed happy together, no obvious signs of domestic problems, Sharon had just started helping out with the local Girl Guide unit.’ Mallender nodded, satisfied. ‘What did she do at this firm?’

‘Account Executive,’ Coupland pulled a face to show he wasn’t sure what that meant.

‘She had her own list of clients that she gave financial advice to,’ Ashcroft answered, already anticipating the DCI’s next question.

‘Have we contacted -?’

‘-I’m working through a printout of her client list now, sir.’

Mallender smiled, ‘OK, good work, let’s see if we can narrow it down to something tangible we can take to a press conference.’ Coupland regarded Mallender, ‘Are we not going to get James to do an appeal anyway?’ The DCI shook his head. ‘Superintendent Curtis feels we need to have a clear line of direction with regard to the investigation before we appeal for the public’s help.’ Which roughly translated meant Curtis wanted to keep his distance until the correct classification of this crime had been determined.

*

‘Stand by your beds,’ Coupland called out as he let himself into the three bedroomed semi he shared with Lynn. The house was quiet, no washing machine hum or Amy’s music blaring from upstairs, no
‘He said, she said,’
phone calls punctuated by exclamations of
‘No way!’
or
‘OMG!’
He placed his car keys on the hall table and made his way through to the kitchen where his taste buds were awoken by a mouth-watering aroma that seemed strangely familiar. Lynn smiled as he made his way over to her and kissed her on the lips. Amy had her back to them so Coupland let the kiss linger a little longer than normal. Any public displays of affection tended to be greeted with screeches of
‘ewwww, get a room…’

‘Tough day?’ Lynn lifted a pot of something delicious smelling out of the oven before giving it a stir and putting it back, ‘I thought I’d make that dish we liked on holiday.’ Coupland’s spirits lifted. ‘The one with the chicken in?’

‘I couldn’t find all the same spices mind, but I thought it would be a nice way to ease us back.’

‘Can’t argue with that.’ Amy had been texting someone but slipped her phone into the pocket of her skinny jeans before turning round. ‘We heard about the woman who was murdered on the news Dad, is that why you were called away last night?’ Coupland grunted a yes while taking off his jacket and placing it over the back of a kitchen chair. He didn’t like bringing his work home with him, wanted to keep the four walls of his home an untainted place. Lynn understood his reluctance to talk but Amy thought working for the murder squad both fascinating and gross in equal measure. He washed his hands at the sink, making sure he didn’t dry them on the wrong towel; he didn’t want to get in Lynn’s bad books when she’d gone to such trouble with dinner. First night back from holiday was normally fish and chips because neither of them could be motivated to buy food in so he appreciated the effort it had taken. ‘Hang on a minute,’ he studied Amy as she put out the place mats on the table. ‘Are you feeling alright?’ She threw him the look that said she wasn’t going to rise to it but he carried on anyway. ‘I mean, since when do you give your mum a hand without being enticed by money or a lift? Or is that it - are you off somewhere afterwards and need a taxi?’

‘Ha, ha you’re hilarious,’ she muttered, moving to the cutlery drawer where she exchanged a worried glance with Lynn. Something was afoot.

‘Amy,’ Coupland continued, ‘why are you setting four places? Oh, don’t tell me, I am a detective after all. Is it this mystery lad you’ve been texting while we were away? He’s going to grace us with his presence, is that it?’ He winked at Lynn, ‘He must be keen.’ He paused, eyeing her with caution, ‘You’re not pregnant are you?’ he asked before he could stop himself. ‘Dad!’ Amy’s neck and face turned red as she turned to her mother, eyes pleading, ‘Mum, tell him…’

‘Kevin,’ Lynn said on an outward breath, the way she did when he’d committed some awful faux pas. Just then the doorbell rang. ‘I’ll get it!’ Amy shrieked but Coupland was already one step ahead of her, beating her into the hall, ‘I’ll get it sweetheart,’ he grinned, ‘it’ll be my absolute pleasure.’

‘Arright, Kev.’ The man on the doorstep looked oddly familiar for all the wrong reasons. The face rang a bell, a very big bell, but everything else about him was different. The clothes were clean, freshly ironed, the hair longer than he remembered. But still…Coupland’s gaze fell upon the open collar which gave it away. The tattoo on the neck that if he wasn’t mistaken spelled
Pussy.
Vincent Underwood. How the hell did this toe rag find his address? Coupland kept his face impassive. ‘Well, well, well. You’re not getting the hang of this are you, Vinny? When you’ve done your time you get out of jail and keep walking, go back living under whatever stone you crawled out from. You don’t drop in on the guy that put you away,’ Coupland laughed, ‘that’s not how it works, son, bound to ruffle a few feathers if you start making house calls on the local constabulary.’ The toe rag’s eyes twinkled. Behind Coupland Amy’s footsteps cantered along the hallway.

‘Vin!’ she gushed in a sing song voice, ‘Mum’s made a special dinner, come on in.’ Coupland blinked. ‘Hang on,’ confused now, ‘what the hell’s going on here?’ He looked at Amy’s flushed face, then back at Vinny’s smug one, ‘Don’t tell me you were waiting for this scumbag?’ Amy bristled, but Vinny’s grin just got wider. ‘Dad!’ she hissed, ‘Can you not do this?’ Coupland regarded her with suspicion, ‘Do what?’ Her eyes darted in Vinny’s direction, ‘Be such a cop about everything…’

‘I am a bloody cop, Amy!’ His tone sharper than intended, ‘This scrote’s been inside,’ he added, ‘I know because I bloody nicked him,’ he sighed, irritated Amy had put him in this position, ‘look, it’s dead simple, I don’t want him in my house, and I sure as hell won’t sit round the table having dinner with him.’

‘Well it’s your choice,’ Amy moaned, ‘but Mum’s gone to a lot of trouble for Vinny, she won’t be pleased if it’s all for nothing.’

She went to a lot of trouble for
me
, Coupland thought, his face sour. ‘Dinner’s ready!’ Lynn called from the kitchen. Coupland wondered how much she knew, whether Amy had got her on side and the two of them had plotted how to butter him up. But Lynn knew him better than that. Surely if she’d been in on this she’d have given him advanced warning? He stood back to let Amy step into the kitchen. Vinny made to follow her but not before Coupland grabbed his arm, squeezing as tight as he could before leaning in so close to an outsider it looked like he was planting a kiss. ‘This isn’t over.’ he growled into his ear before letting him go.

They managed to survive the meal. Lynn had raised her eyebrows at Vinny’s tattoo as he walked into the kitchen but recovered her composure quick enough. He was a few years older than Amy, something Coupland knew Lynn wouldn’t be comfortable with. He caught her eye as she ladled out the casserole onto everyone’s plates, she gave a slight shrug as if to say wait and see. The conversation was stilted, mainly because Coupland refused to join in. He ate his meal in silence, glaring at Vinny who seemed to be doing his utmost to charm Lynn who was warming to him by the second. ‘So you’re at college with Amy?’ she asked. ‘I work there,
Lynn
,’ he explained, sliding a look over at Coupland, ‘I work in the maintenance team. Any repairs that need doing on campus, I’m your man.’

‘But you’re doing some online classes aren’t you?’ Amy prompted, her voice chattering over everyone as though it was important to fill in any gaps. She hadn’t looked at Coupland once since they’d sat round the table. So, his daughter was dating the odd job man, one with a criminal record to boot. Coupland ground his teeth as he pushed his food round his plate. Lynn looked over at him anxiously, ‘How’s your chicken, love?’ she enquired. ‘Fine,’ he nodded. ‘Seconds?’ she lifted the ladle resting in the serving dish, smiling as Vinny held his plate up for more, ‘Not for me,’ Coupland said, the sauce too sour for his liking.

Coupland made a start on washing the pans while Lynn loaded the dishwasher. Boy wonder had offered but Coupland had insisted he didn’t need his help. When Vinny announced he was leaving Amy walked him to the door and after five minutes the front door slammed. Five minutes of Coupland shushing Lynn so he could listen through the kitchen door, five minutes of wondering what the hell the scrote was up to when he couldn’t hear their voices. ‘Finally,’ he muttered through gritted teeth, taking his anger out on the caked on food that stuck stubbornly to the bottom of the pan. ‘What’s wrong?’ Lynn closed the dishwasher, pressing the eco cycle. She was smiling because she thought he was jealous, that his mood was nothing more than having his nose put out of joint by some young buck. ‘Did you know he’s been inside?’ he hissed, turning to her so he could check her reaction. Stop, a voice in his head warned, you’re not at work now.

‘What?’ Lynn screwed her eyes up in confusion, ‘How do you know?’

‘Pur-lease,’ he looked at her as though she were simple, ‘how do you think I know? I put the bugger away!’ he rinsed the dish and placed it upside down on the drainer. ‘Amy!’ he yelled, moving towards the kitchen door so his voice would carry upstairs, even if she’d put her earphones in. ‘Get down here now!’

‘Don’t have a go at her,’ Lynn warned, ‘she might not know,’

‘She knows alright!’ Coupland countered. He could feel his blood coursing through his veins, ‘I asked her in the hallway and she acted like it was no big deal.’

Amy walked into the kitchen, her face a sullen mask, ‘Putting Mum off him now, are you?’ she spat, ‘Why do you have to spoil everything?’ Coupland stared at his daughter. ‘Amy, he was sent down for GBH last year. He’s only been out a couple of months, if that.’ Lynn moved to Coupland’s side. ‘Did you know he’d been to jail?’ she prompted. Amy’s face looked like it could curdle milk. ‘Well of course I knew! We don’t keep secrets from each other.’

‘So he told you what he did then?’ Coupland raised his voice so he could be heard above the racket, but it wasn’t a shout, not yet. The women quietened and turned to him, he had their full attention. ‘He assaulted a bloke in a bar-’

‘-The guy had been laughing at him,’ Amy argued, ‘he just lost his temper and pushed him. Once,’

‘And that’s OK is it? He spent the next week in an induced coma with a clot on his brain,’ Coupland informed her.

‘He didn’t mean it!’ Amy yelled back, ‘Besides, hasn’t he paid his debt to society or whatever you want to call it?’ She leaned back against the kitchen worktop, wrapping her arms around her as she looked about the kitchen. Her shoulders had dropped, along with the temperature in the room. ‘Surely he should be allowed to do whatever he wants, now.’