Cath Staincliffe - Desperate Measures

‘And Peggy?’ Janine said.

‘She wouldn’t hear a bad word said about the man. She was there when I begged Halliwell to come and see Simon for himself. “Give it time,” he said. We didn’t have time. How she trusted him, Peggy. All the way to the motorway bridge, still following doctor’s orders.’

‘You never made a complaint?’ Janine said.

‘Peggy was so sick, I couldn’t make it worse for her,’ Roy Gant said. ‘The doctor would call round with his smiles and his crumbs of comfort.’ He glanced at Janine, eyes narrowed. ‘You heard about Marcie Young?’

Janine nodded.

‘He’d learnt nothing,’ Gant said. ‘He still didn’t listen. Masking his ignorance with arrogance.’

‘Why now, Roy?’ Janine said.

‘He came on Tuesday, after Peggy had gone. You know what he said? “It’ll get easier, Roy. Life goes on.” Smug bastard. His life would,’ Gant said. ‘ They were my life. I knew then.’

‘You had Simon’s gun?’ Janine said.

‘‘I took it off him.’ Roy Gant hesitated, blinked several times.

‘Why did Simon have a gun in the first place?’ Janine said.

‘He was petrified. He thought it would protect him. How can you protect yourself when the demons are inside?’ Gant’s voice broke. Janine waited and eventually he cleared his throat and said, ‘The demons grew with that drug, they fed on it. But Halliwell was blind and deaf and dumb to it.’ Roy Gant shifted, looked up to the sky. ‘He was usually the last to leave the surgery,’ he said, ‘so I went down there. It was easy.’

‘You took his briefcase?’ Janine said.

‘Yes, well, children might have found it, taken stuff and hurt themselves,’ he said.

Oh God. ‘And where did you put the gun?’ Janine said.

He moved then, his face set as he pulled the gun from his pocket and pointed it at them. Janine’s heart leapt into her throat. She felt sick inside. She heard Lisa take a quick breath and Janine put out a hand, instinctively, to prevent Lisa moving towards Gant.

‘Stay there!’ Roy Gant said and he began to back away, across the grass, gun trained on them all the while.

Janine’s mouth was dry, her pulse racing. He wouldn’t get far, she told herself, even if he did shoot at them, the whole force would be out after him in minutes. Same if he fled.

She watched, her legs like jelly, as he reached a stand of trees, dark green yews, their branches shivering in the wind.

Beside her Lisa was gasping, whispering, ‘Oh, God, oh God, no.’

Would he hit them from this distance? Janine thought of Charlotte, of Tom and Eleanor, of Michael and clamped her mouth tight, determined to keep watching, not to close her eyes.

‘Roy, wait,’ she called out but the wind seemed to rip her words away. ‘Roy, we can talk about this, about Simon, and Marcie Young, you could help her family-’

He turned quickly, facing the trees and raised the gun to his head.

‘No!’ Janine screamed and Lisa echoed her.

The shot, a crack of thunder, echoed round the cemetery.

‘No!’ Janine yelled as the blood and brain burst from his head and he pitched forward onto his knees and then onto his face.

Birds rose screeching from the trees. Lisa was howling and Janine grabbed her, held her, turning her away.

‘Come on,’ Janine said, ‘this way. Come on.’

Shaking violently, Janine thought she would collapse, but she walked with Lisa up to the car, aware of the gravediggers shouting, and someone running and the starlings crying as they wheeled overhead.

Janine called it in.

And then she sat with Lisa in the car, waiting for the police and the ambulance. Waiting to give a witness statement. Waiting until she could go home and see her kids and try to forget the image strobing in her mind, of the heartbroken father with a gun to his head.

It was hours before they were free to go and by that point Janine knew what everyone needed was some rest and relaxation, to debrief with those who had shared the experience. Pete had the kids and had promised to be back for half eight. She must be home by then so she had invited the team back to hers for pizza and beer.

Shap was making a good effort to get everyone pissed. He held a bottle out to Janine. ‘Have another,’ he said, ‘doctor’s orders.’

‘It was personal, after all,’ Lisa said quietly.

‘It usually is,’ Janine said. She caught Lisa’s expression, haunted afresh by events.

‘We did our best,’ Janine said, ‘he killed himself, no one else. I wish it hadn’t happened but we are not to blame. In that situation there was nothing else we could have done. You must believe that.’

‘Something like this,’ Richard said to Lisa, ‘it stays with you. But you will be all right. If you need some counselling, it’s available. It can help.’

‘And it’s not a sign of weakness,’ Janine said.

Lisa gave a ghost of a smile.

Butchers handed out pizza. ‘Taking orders for deserts,’ he said.

‘Double chocolate fudge ice-cream,’ Lisa said, shaking herself as if waking, and reaching for a big slice of pizza.

A good sign, Janine thought, appetite.

‘Where does she put it all?’ Richard said.

‘Hollow legs,’ Janine said.

‘Go far with a constitution like that,’ Richard said, ‘with the right management.’

‘Better ask for a transfer then, hadn’t I?’ Lisa said.

Janine smiled, glad that Richard’s rancour had gone, and that Lisa felt secure enough to make banter.

‘Try Xcalibre,’ Shap put in, ‘they’re short of a few ladies in waiting.’

‘You’re not going anywhere,’ Richard said, ‘the amount of work we’ve put into you.’

Pete came in, carrying Alfie, Tom and Charlotte following.

‘This a private do, or can anyone join in?’ Pete said.

‘Hello, little one,’ Lisa said to the baby.

Alfie burped making everyone laugh.

Janine caught Pete’s eyes, shared a look, a mutual, You OK ? Got a nod in reply. She was, well – she would be. There’d be dreams and moments of sudden fear and sadness. Times when she would torment herself, picking over what she might have done differently, what might have saved Roy Gant and spared Lisa the trauma. There would be flashes of rage too, wild and random, unfocused, but Janine trusted that she’d cope.

She would keep going and learn to live with it. That was her job. Dealing with death, sudden violent death, asking questions, finding answers. That was her job.

She looked across to where Butchers was taking ice-cream requests from the kids and saw Lisa hold her arms out to hold Alfie, saw Shap sneaking out for a fag, Richard watching Janine, giving her a wink, silent support.

All those deaths, Marcie Young, Simon Carter, Don Halliwell, Roy Gant. Lives cut short.

Every day is a gift she thought. Every day. A precious gift.

Thanks to everyone involved with Blue Murder at Granada

and to all the viewers and readers.

Cath Staincliffe is an award winning novelist, radio playwright and creator of ITV’s hit series Blue Murder , starring Caroline Quentin as DCI Janine Lewis which attracted an audience of 8.4 million viewers. Cath has been shortlisted for the Crime Writers Association Best First Novel award and for the Dagger in the Library. She was joint winner of the CWA Short Story Dagger in 2012 and shortlisted again in 2014. Looking For Trouble launched private eye Sal Kilkenny, a single parent struggling to juggle work and home, onto Manchester’s mean streets. Crying Out Loud is the eighth and latest title in the series. Letters To My Daughter’s Killer was selected for the Specsavers Crime Thriller Book Club on ITV3 in 2014. Cath also writes the Scott & Bailey books based on the popular television cop-show . She is a founder member of Murder Squad and lives in Manchester with her family.