Cath Staincliffe - Ruthless

‘Heavy users?’

‘Dunno. Ain’t exactly mates.’

‘They’re racist tossers but they’re happy enough to deal with Victor?’ Rachel said.

‘Hypocrites, in’t they.’

‘And on Saturday you were up on Middleton Road, with a bagful of party poppers. You heard the girl died?’

Shirelle closed her good eye.

‘Not your week, is it?’ Rachel said.

‘It was legal.’

‘That might have been, the rest isn’t. Class As, Shirelle, you can get life for that. You going to do that for Williams? Reckon he’ll thank you for it? Even if it’s accepted you played a lesser role, you’re looking at seven years. What’s keeping you here? Family? We heard you’re on your own. Think about it: new name, new flat, new chance. This all goes away.’

‘I i’nt a grass.’

Rachel had an image of Sharon, the night before, the disgust on her face, disgust at Rachel. The rotten ache of it inside her.

‘They could have killed you,’ Rachel said. ‘You don’t matter, you’re disposable.’

Shirelle didn’t speak.

‘It’s one of the lines of our investigation, whether associates of Williams were behind the murders, Victor’s murder.’

Shirelle’s expression hardened. ‘They weren’t, no way.’

‘You liked Victor, you went out with him, and I thought you’d at least want to see whoever killed him pay for it. Perhaps Victor double-crossed Williams, perhaps he was cutting the product?’

‘No,’ she repeated, ‘he never. It wasn’t any of them.’ Shirelle was adamant.

‘You know who, then?’

‘No.’

Rachel held her gaze, tried to see beyond the cuts and the bloodshot eye.

‘That’s the truth,’ she said, ‘I swear.’

‘What do you know about Greg Tandy?’ Rachel asked.

‘Who?’ But there was a false note to the question.

‘He was staying at Keane’s. Connor’s dad. You know Connor?’

‘I know Connor,’ she said, ‘I don’t know his dad.’

Rachel wasn’t sure she believed her. Aware that when any probing came close to Williams or his grubby little empire, Shirelle watched her step.

‘What was he like, Victor?’ With no family, no records, any information on the man was patchy to say the least. They probably knew more about Richard Kavanagh. Didn’t even have any photographs.

‘He was a big kid.’ She paused, but the temptation to talk about him must have won her over. ‘Like when we were together, he was still friendly with Lydia and I said, “I don’t share,” but he just fooled about, like it was a joke. He never grew up.’ For the first time, behind the words blunted by her injuries, Rachel heard grief in what Shirelle was saying.

Most of them don’t grow up, Rachel thought. Would Sean? Had he? This, the marriage, pushing Rachel to meet her mother, was that grown-up behaviour? He still found farting and cock jokes totally hilarious.

‘Is there anything else you wish to add?’ Rachel was ready to wind things up, they had enough to charge her with possession with intent to supply.

‘The Paradise,’ Shirelle said, ‘it’s been OK.’ A sliver of remorse.

‘I know,’ Rachel said, ‘and then it wasn’t.’

The café, self-service, was cheap and cheerful, not too greasy, ideal for a quick lunch.

‘What are you getting?’ Rachel said.

Janet looked at her watch, they hadn’t long but she needed something hot and filling. ‘Macaroni cheese.’ Rachel ordered the pasta and a steak and mushroom pie. They took their meals to an empty table in the corner.

‘So, what’s wrong with Her Majesty?’ Rachel said.

Janet shook her head. ‘None of your business.’

Rachel gave a heavy sigh.

Janet didn’t care, there was no way she was going to betray Gill’s confidence. Friendship was rooted in trust. Sometimes she wasn’t sure whether Rachel understood that.

‘How’s Elise?’

Janet told Rachel the same she’d told Gill earlier, including the fact that Ade blamed Janet and Olivia’s mother had turned on Elise.

‘You want to tell her what’s what,’ Rachel said. ‘If it was Olivia egging Elise on, Olivia lying about the party, then…’

‘There’s a time and a place,’ Janet said. ‘She’s mad with shock.’

‘But for Elise-’

‘I’ve explained it to Elise, she sort of gets it. She just feels bloody awful. It certainly hasn’t helped.’

‘What about Taisie?’ Rachel said.

‘She’s completely confused. She’s meant to be the awkward one. Elise never puts a foot wrong. And Taisie really liked Olivia so she’s in bits. Of course she’s still at the “why-would-anyone-want-to-take-drugs” age so she can’t understand it.’

Taisie had sought Janet out the previous evening, in tears. She sat on Janet’s knee, something she hadn’t done for years, as she asked her questions. Why did they buy the drugs? Was it like heroin? Why did only Olivia die?

Then Elise had woken her in the night, saying her heart was beating too fast and she daren’t go to sleep because she might dream about Olivia. Janet had felt her own body pick up on the panic in her daughter, echoing the same physical sensation.

She had coaxed her daughter back to bed after a milky drink and a talk. Told her to breathe very slowly and deliberately, that it was harder for anxiety to overwhelm you if your breathing was steady and regular. That what you did with your body could help soothe your mind, your emotions. But today Janet herself found it hard to breathe deeply. Her guts were in knots.

She ate some food, hoping it would help settle the jittery feeling she’d had ever since Saturday’s phone call from Elise. What if she was losing it again? Twice she’d been mentally ill, the spectacular breakdown in her teens that had come from nowhere, then the depression and anxiety that followed Joshua’s death. Both times Ade had been a rock, helping her cope, waiting for her to heal, believing she would recover, that they had a future. That wouldn’t happen if she cracked up now, and what effect would it have on the girls?

‘Oy, Dolly Daydream,’ Rachel broke into her thoughts, ‘did you hear me?’

‘What?’

‘Forget it,’ Rachel said.

‘No, go on, what?’

‘I was just saying it could have been worse. She won’t have a criminal record-’

‘Somebody died,’ Janet said, ‘I call that worse.’

‘But if she’d been prosecuted for supplying, had to go through the courts-’

‘She’ll have to go to the coroner’s inquest.’ That would be an ordeal in itself. Janet had attended inquests as a police officer, for sudden deaths that the police determined to be accidental or suicide.

‘All I’m saying-’

‘Leave it, please. I know you’re only looking for a bright side but honestly it doesn’t help,’ she said sharply.

Rachel looked taken aback. She’d get over it. Janet was in no mood to start tip-toeing around, worrying about Rachel. Rachel could look after herself.

Janet stared at her plate and felt her appetite drain away. She’d eaten half of it. That would have to do.

‘You coming?’ she said to Rachel, who had polished off her meal.

‘Well, I’m not staying here, am I?’ Rachel snapped, her bolshie side showing again.

Dave had found a place in a rehab clinic. He could use some of his private health insurance to pay for it, and didn’t have to wait. Gill had arranged to drive him there because she didn’t quite trust him to go.

She asked Janet to keep an eye on things at work and if anyone asked to just tell them she had a hospital appointment. Noel and Neil Perry were awaiting transfer to prison. The vans did their rounds at the beginning and end of the day, delivering suspects to court, bringing defendants back to prison after their time in the dock. If further investigation led the police back to either of the Perrys in relation to Victor and Lydia, the police could apply to the prison to have them produced for interview. Gill thought there was little chance of this happening. They hadn’t been involved in the double murder, she was sure of it.