The Know (26 page)

Now she worked twelve hours a day in the canteen of a factory in Barking and she was buying her little flat and sending her youngest son Maurice to college. She had turned them around, made a decent life for them separate from the one her husband had chosen. And she was reaping the benefits of her hard-won lifestyle in her son Maurice. So what was all this about? She was practically wringing her hands with terror and disappointment.

‘What do you want?’

Maurice’s voice was quivering with fear and tension. The West Indian inflection was there, barely discernible but there nonetheless. The policeman guessed it was due to nerves.

‘We want to talk to you about Kira Brewer.’

Maurice saw his mother’s face blanch.

He didn’t know who the girl was, he said, had never seen her in his life. The policeman showed him her picture then.

‘She’s the little girl who went missing. You must have seen it on the news or in the newspapers?’

It was then that the PC realised there was no TV in this room, only a small portable radio. The place was pristine, so clean it was shining. The sofa and chairs still had the original plastic covers on them and the carpet had a runner going round it to keep it clean.

All the walls had religious prints on them, beautifully tinted in pastel shades. They each showed Jesus looking handsome and blond, His eyes looking up towards the heavens.

The boy nodded slightly.

‘Did you see her in Supa Snaps on Saturday?’

The boy pondered for a moment, aware that this was an important question and giving it his full attention.

He shook his head.

‘No, I didn’t see her in there. I would have remembered. But the name of the person who brought the film in to be developed would be on the envelope.’

The policeman nodded.

‘But there was no envelope, you see. We wondered if maybe you had done the photographs as a favour for a friend or relative?’

Maurice shook his head once more.

‘No. I wouldn’t do anything like that. I could lose my job.’

The policeman believed him; there was an innate honesty in this boy which shone through. Either that or he was a very good actor but the PC didn’t think that was the case. The boy had nearly had a heart attack on seeing him there.

Most of the kids he dealt with lied as a matter of course, and lied well. He saw the boy’s mother relax as he answered the questions in his clear and concise way. He was glad she wouldn’t have any trouble, she looked a nice woman.

‘Can you come down to the station with me, son? Just to eliminate you, fingerprints and that.’

The boy nodded, but he clearly wasn’t happy about it.

‘We can send an unmarked car for him, if you want?’

The PC realised that the mother had no idea what he meant.

‘I mean, Mrs Delray, we can send a normal-looking car instead of the police car. That way no one will know where he’s going.’

He saw the thanks in her face. The neighbours were all important to her and he understood that. This woman was still trying to live down Wendell. The copper knew all about him but was shrewd enough not to let on about it.

Maurice smiled at his mother and she smiled back.

Sometimes the PC hated his job, but he tried to make it as easy as possible for the people he had to deal with. He was in the minority at his station and not the most popular guy on the block. Most of his colleagues saw it as their mission in life to make life as hard as possible for everyone and anyone who was not Old Bill.

But seeing this woman’s face now it was worth every second of the aggravation not to be that sort of policeman.

 
Della was worried by the way she had seen Joseph behave to his own son. When she had thought about it later, she concluded that she had not been told the whole story. He had not even given her the bare bones of what had happened between them. He had bullshitted her with that love and adore bit. She wanted to know what it was really about.

Now she was pestering him, though, he was getting upset once more. She could see the anger build in him.

‘Just leave it, Della. It’s family business.’

‘I am your family now, aren’t I?’

He sighed and wiped his large hand across his sweating face. He looked nervous and angry, a lethal combination with Joseph Thompson but she wasn’t to know that. She still pushed the issue, unaware of what she was risking.

‘But what did you mean when you said, ‘‘Tell her, Tommy. Go on, I dare you’’?’ She was determined to get to the bottom of it all.

‘I didn’t mean anything.’

Della was not to be put off.

‘Well, it must have meant
something
. That’s not a statement you make unless there is something to tell.’

Joseph grabbed her arm and shoved her towards the sofa.

‘It didn’t mean anything! I was just upset. Now can we drop the fucking subject? Fuck me, girl, what was your last job? Giving out the food parcels in Auschwitz? ’

She had never in her life been spoken to like this before. As she lay on the sofa it occurred to her that Joseph wasn’t so amenable as she had first thought. In fact, he was dangerous, looked capable of really harming her.

As she stared up at him her eldest daughter came in at the back door. Della had never been so glad to see anyone in her life.

Della’s eldest daughter Patricia was her father’s girl: short, dumpy and very meek. Her own three daughters were like their grandmother: outgoing and loud enough to be heard when it mattered.

‘What’s going on, Mum?’

Joseph was beseeching her with his eyes and against her better judgement Della covered things up. She didn’t want anyone to know that all in the garden was anything other than lovely.

‘Nothing, love. Put the kettle on.’

Pat did as she was told, but there was something not right here and she knew it. More to the point so did the girls.

They all stared at their new granddad with wide eyes except the youngest, Aurora, who jumped straight on his lap for a cuddle.

Only today the sight didn’t fill Della with happiness; it made her uneasy and she wasn’t sure why.

Joseph’s temper was bubbling away under the surface and that worried her.

It worried her a great deal.

 
Lorna was outside Jon Jon’s block of flats when he walked past without seeing her. Her heavy belly seemed to be weighing her down and she puffed as she tried to catch up with him.

‘Jon Jon!’

He stopped deliberately by the kerb and waited for her to catch him up.

‘What?’

It was a question and also a dismissal. She was not at all sure she was doing the right thing now. He looked down into the face that had just missed being pretty.

‘I ain’t got all fucking day, Lorna.’

She bit on her lip before answering him and it made her look very young. He had a glimpse of the girl under the makeup and veneer of hardness for a few seconds. He saw his own sister if she wasn’t careful. Jeanette was going the same way as this piece of filth only she was too stupid to see it.

‘I heard a bit of gossip . . . I thought you should be told.’

He laughed at her.

‘What am I now then, a fucking fishwife? Do I look like you?’

She shook her head as she said, ‘It’s to do with your sister. Your sister Kira, I mean.’

Jon Jon was all ears now.

‘What about her?’

Lorna was still not sure if she was doing the right thing. She wanted brownie points with Jon Jon but maybe this was not the way to go about it. Earl was bibbing from the car and she knew Jon Jon was in a hurry. She needed to state her case as quickly as she could.

She kept telling herself that her cousin wasn’t a spinner so what she had told Lorna was as near the truth as to make no difference.

‘Well, out with it then?’

She was frightened as she said, ‘It’s Little Tommy Thompson.’

Jon Jon sighed as he said pointedly, ‘And?’

‘He’s been done for noncing before.’

Jon Jon wiped a hand over his face.

‘You been talking to Monica?’

She shook her head.

‘No. Jon Jon, I heard this from me cousin, Carly Lanesborough. She knows him from when they lived over in Bermondsey.’

He grabbed her arm.

‘Get in the car!’

He pushed her inside and she landed in the back awkwardly, her huge belly making her movements clumsy.

‘Drive! We’re going to Bermondsey.’

Earl drove.

He didn’t even question what was going on, he would know soon enough. That was the good thing with Jon Jon. There were no long drawn-out discussions, you just went and did what you had to do.

Carly lived in a nice little flat with her husband Colin. She was the antithesis of her cousin and Jon Jon was glad about that. If he had had to endure another Lorna he might not have hung on to his precarious patience. As she made them all coffee, Carly filled him in on what she knew.

‘I was over your way visiting when I saw about your sister like. Everyone knows about it anyway, with the news and all.’

He nodded.

She was trying to justify gossiping, he could understand that.

‘Anyway, I heard about this Tommy, and if it’s the same bloke as the one I knew, he was accused of noncing a young girl. Nothing came of it, I’d better state that now.’ She put up her hands as she said it. ‘But he was accused by the girl’s family and moved away afterwards with his father. No one knew where, they just disappeared like. But if it is him then it’s a big coincidence, ain’t it?’

Jon Jon nodded.

‘Tell me what you know about him, Carly. What did he look like?’

‘He was a big fat geezer, and he lived with his dad. They weren’t around here that long. He used to have a load of dolls and that, and some of the kids used to go in his flat and play with them.’

Jon Jon could feel his heart racing at her words.

‘Anyway, one little girl said she was touched and that was that. As you can imagine the neighbours were all out for them then, but the next thing we knew the complaint was withdrawn and they fucked off and no one thought any more about it until this all happened.’

‘Do you know why the complaint was dropped?’

She shook her head.

‘I did hear tell it was because it was the dad’s girlfriend’s grand-daughter or niece or something, but you know what gossip’s like. Anyway, they live over by Canary Wharf now in the council flats. The name was Rowe, and that’s about all I know.’

Baxter stared at the photographs and felt his heart lurch. Of all the things he had anticipated, these had never figured.

He looked down at them once more and saw a Kira he had never expected to see. She looked so far removed from the child in the school picture it was unbelievable. Plastered in makeup, she looked like a grown woman but it was the eyes that commanded his attention.

She looked all-knowing.

She looked like she was offering a good time, looked like an eleven-year-old ancient.

She looked like her mother.

This was a born-again Joanie and that was the real shock. He felt as if he had been punched in the stomach, as if the breath had been forced from his body. No way was he expecting anything like this. But it was the thought of talking to Joanie that was worrying him most.

If these denoted what he thought they did then Joanie was either very much in the dark or she was a better actress than any Academy Award winner.

He stared at the photos once more. He could not believe what he was seeing.

 
Jeanette was packing up her few bits and pieces and going home to her mother. She was glad to be going back, truth be told. Jasper knew how she felt and in fairness to him he understood. If he could have, he would have lived somewhere else as well. Karen was not someone you would choose to spend any time with. Now that the drink had got her she was a nightmare.

As Jeanette packed, Jasper’s mother gave her a running commentary on everyone’s opinion about her sister’s disappearance.

Not sparing a second’s thought for Jeanette’s feelings, she said, ‘She’s dead, love, sure as sure.’

The girl closed her eyes for a moment in distress.

‘Do you mind, Karen? That’s my little sister you are talking about.’

The words were clipped, rude, and this did not go unnoticed by Karen Copes who was at the stage of drunkenness where she was just looking for something like this to happen.

‘I’m only telling you what I heard.’

The words were slurred and barely intelligible. Karen was having trouble focusing her eyes and blinked as she tried to front up to Jeanette. She noticed inconsequentially how tidy the room was now. Jeanette had cleaned it from top to bottom and this annoyed Karen for some reason. It was like a slur on her and her house.

‘Too good for us these days, ain’t you?’

Jeanette didn’t answer her, she knew it was pointless.