Читать книгу Outside Looking In: A darkly compelling crime novel with a shocking twist - Michael Wood - Страница 13

Martin Craven approached the front desk of the police station like a member of the walking dead. His eyes were circled red and bloodshot, his hair a tangled mess, and his face was grey and sallow. His suit, one he had worn for work the previous day, was creased and stained.

‘I want to report my wife missing,’ he said in a voice affected by lack of sleep and too much caffeine.

The uniformed sergeant behind the desk didn’t even blink. He had seen it all over the years; people came to the counter with all kinds of stories ranging from the bland to the bizarre. A missing person was banal in comparison.

‘When did you last see your wife, sir?’

He swallowed hard and took a deep breath. Holding on to the counter for balance he spoke slowly with determination. ‘She left for work yesterday morning. She was due home about eight o’clock last night, but never arrived. Her mobile was going straight to voicemail. By ten o’clock I started phoning around her friends but they hadn’t heard from her. This morning I called her work but she hasn’t turned up. They said she was there until five o’clock yesterday and left as normal. Nothing out of the ordinary had happened at work either. She’s disappeared. I need you to find her.’

DC Joseph Glass hoped training as a Family Liaison Officer would impress the bosses when it came to promotion time. He had been on several health and safety and first aid courses and was even a fire officer at South Yorkshire HQ. What he hadn’t expected was how unbelievably boring being an FLO was.

He had spent most of the night wondering what to say to a tearful and desperate Alice Hardaker.

‘Should I wake the kids and tell them or wait until morning?’

‘Only you can answer that, Alice. I’ll provide you with whatever support I can though.’

‘How sure are you that it’s really Kevin?’

‘As sure as we can be at the moment.’

‘Do you think he suffered?’

‘I honestly don’t know, Alice.’

This went on until the small hours of the morning until, physically and mentally drained, she had fallen asleep sitting up on the sofa. He had taken the eighth undrunk cup of tea from her hands and placed a throw over her to keep her warm. He returned to the armchair and waited. He managed an hour’s sleep at about three o’clock but woke with a start; his subconscious telling him he was in unfamiliar surroundings. He made another cup of tea, something he was becoming an expert in, and waited for Alice to wake up.

At four o’clock, knowing his sister would have come off the late shift at the Children’s Hospital, he gave her a call.’

‘Morning, you’ll never guess what’s happened,’ he spoke quietly into his phone from the kitchen so as not to wake the snoring Alice. ‘There’s been a shooting on Quiet Lane.’

‘I know. We’ve heard. Tom’s girlfriend works at the Northern. She phoned earlier.’

Feeling downhearted at not getting in first with the gossip, Joseph added, ‘Yes, well, guess who’s FLO for one of the victim’s family?’

‘You’re not!’

‘I bloody am.’

‘Good for you. How is it?’

‘Boring. I’ve lost count of the amount of cups of tea I’ve had and they’ve only got plain biscuits. Two kids and not a single bit of chocolate in the house.’

‘Sod the biscuits, Joe. Let’s have some juicy details.’

‘I haven’t got any. Like I said, it’s boring. Hang on, I think I can hear movement upstairs. I’ll call you later.’

He hung up without saying goodbye and listened intently to the noise from upstairs. He heard the sound of feet padding lightly along the hallway, a toilet flushed and then more footsteps. One of the children going to the toilet. He sighed and returned to the living room.

When the children, Warren aged ten and Milly aged seven, came down for breakfast, they looked with heavy frowns at the gangly detective. Who was this man and why had he spent the night on their recliner?

Alice had no idea what to say to them and stumbled her way through a statement of silences, um’s and ah’s. In the end, Joseph stepped forward and took over. Surprisingly, Alice allowed it.

Joseph bent down in front of the two frightened children who looked vulnerable and innocent in their pyjamas and dressing gowns. He lowered his voice and tried to sound soothing and calm. ‘At the moment, we don’t know what’s happening but we think your dad has been involved in some kind of accident. The reason why I’m here is to look after you all while the main police officers find out what’s going on. If there’s anything you need or anything you want to know, come and ask me and I’ll do what I can to help. Is that OK?’

The children nodded in unison. They looked to their mother who nodded and gave a painful smile, doing all she could to stop the tears from falling.

‘Right then Warren, your mum tells me you’re a very good boy and always help at mealtimes. I bet you know where all the breakfast things are don’t you?’

‘Yes,’ he nodded.

‘OK. Now, you look like a Coco Pops man to me. Am I right?’ He knew one of them would like Coco Pops having seen two boxes of them in the cupboard while looking around during the hours of darkness.

‘Milly likes Coco Pops. I prefer Frosties.’

‘Cool. I like those too. Have you ever mixed them together?’

He ushered the kids into the kitchen and Alice mouthed her thanks as her emotions took over. She turned her back so nobody would see her cry.

As Alice made her way towards the hallway the front doorbell rang. She quickly wiped her eyes and turned round to look at Joseph in the doorway to the kitchen.

‘Would you like me to answer it?’

‘No, it’s OK,’ she sniffled. She looked through the spyhole. ‘It’s my sister.’ She had barely opened the solid front door before her younger sister burst into the house and grabbed Alice in a bear hug.

‘Oh my God, Alice,’ Jenny was younger, shorter, fatter, and plainer than her sister.

Alice had called Jenny last night, before she had fallen asleep, and told her the tragic news. Jenny, who was away at a wedding in Skegness, had come straight back to Sheffield.

‘I didn’t think you were coming straight back,’ said Alice. ‘What about Geraldine’s wedding?’

‘She’s got another three bridesmaids; I won’t be missed. Alice, what happened?’

Alice put her arm around her sister and led her into the living room where they could talk in private.

Joseph was torn. He wanted to listen in on the conversation. Would Alice say something to her sister she wouldn’t say to him? However, there were two children in the room behind him and it sounded like they were making a mess.

As Alice closed the door to the living room, Joseph heard her say ‘you’ll never believe what’s happened’. Joseph had started the conversation with his sister the same way a few hours earlier. But he’d just been gossiping then. He never would have said that had he been talking about the brutal murder of a close relative.