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Chapter 7
The prison bed wasn’t comfortable. The blanket was itchy and the pillow may as well not have been there at all. At least there was a mattress – something that hadn’t been in the police holding cell. Gabriel’s eyes were closed as he tried hard to block out his surroundings. He thought of Emma and her white skin. She wore talcum powder instead of foundation to make it even whiter and when they would kiss he could taste it on the edge of her lips. He imagined her lips on his and realised he was holding his breath. He couldn’t ask her to wait for him. It would possibly be weeks until he got a trial date and the sentence he was likely to receive would mean that it would be foolish to hope that she could put her life on hold. They had been apart for nine days now and already he found himself giving up on the idea that he would be with her again. Without that hope he didn’t know what else he had to hold onto. He’d had relationships before, but this was different. She was the one. They just fit together. He couldn’t imagine never seeing Emma again; his stomach hurt at the thought of it.
He found his mind returning to that day. Why had he not checked the building before starting the fire? Why had he even gone there in the first place? He deserved this punishment. He had taken someone’s life.
He was grateful for the darkness. His eyes were so sore from the air in here; it was noxious, unclean and unfiltered. He sucked in a breath hard as he tried to fill his body with clean air. Any air. He gulped to try and stop the tears that refused to stay beneath the surface any longer. Ready to burst from his bloodshot eyes.
Surely this was all a big mistake? Prison? He couldn’t be here. This couldn’t be real. Just over a week ago, he and Emma had been making plans for the summer. Everything they had talked about was now gone. No going back to college or work or holidays. No more hope. No future. Or at the very least, a future he hadn’t accounted for and most certainly didn’t want. This would never go away. It couldn’t. Someone had died because of him. Someone had lost their father, brother, son – all because of Gabriel’s stupidity.
He couldn’t feel sorry for himself, but he could feel anger. The numbness inside had gone. He had spent so long focussing on how to behave and making sure he didn’t upset anyone that he hadn’t allowed himself to feel anything. His eyes no longer stung and he realised he was crying. Thank God he was alone.
Gabriel turned on his side and drew his knees up to his chest. The release of pressure was immense; he could feel himself letting go and breathing for what seemed like the first time in a week. Tears coming until there were no more. The short burst of emotion had calmed him down. His breathing normalising, he drifted into thoughts of Emma, wishing he had that T-shirt so he could at least inhale her scent.
That’s when he noticed the light. A break in the darkness. His heart stopped as he heard the sound of metal against metal. The bolt sliding across and his door opening, followed by shuffling and quiet footsteps. Should he hold his breath or pretend to be asleep? Should he turn and look? He balled his hand into a fist, ready to punch anyone who touched him. No one had said anything to him when he was arrested, but he knew what they had all been thinking. It had been his first thought when he’d been told he was going to prison. Prison rape was a joke to most people. Don’t drop the soap. It had stopped being funny the second the prison gates opened and the van pulled inside.
Gabriel heard whispering in the room now, but the sound of his exaggerated heartbeat in his ears made it impossible to discern the words. This was the most vulnerable he had ever felt in his life. This was worse than the strip search, which at least had taken place in the daylight. This was worse than using the servery for the first time, shoulder to shoulder with the unknown, eyes all over him. He didn’t recognise the whispered voices but there were more than one. It was becoming clear that they weren’t here for him though. They were going through Jason’s things. Taking them away. He heard them toss the mattress aside and check underneath it. What had Jason done? What had happened to him? Whatever it was, Gabriel hadn’t heard Jason’s name spoken among the other inmates in the nine days since he had gone. He didn’t want to get himself in trouble by bringing it up, but he found it very odd how quickly the disappearance was accepted. Why wasn’t anyone else curious? The lack of curiosity was more upsetting to Gabriel than Jason’s unexplained departure.
When Gabriel was sure he was alone, he opened his eyes. The room was dark again, silent once more. He allowed his sight to adjust before turning over in his bed. He wanted to see what had been taken. He moved as though he were still asleep, eyes open a sliver. Everything belonging to Jason was gone, the cupboard empty, door open. The books and pictures on the wall had vanished. It was though he had never been there.
Chapter 8
Imogen knocked on the door of the church and pushed lightly against it. It swung wide open. The building inside looked empty. She had never been a religious person but she found the church quite calming in itself; the well-worn wooden seats, the dancing light from the stained-glass windows, the smell of incense and burning candles. It reminded her of her childhood; her mother was always burning incense and leaving candles lit through the night. It was a miracle there had never been an accident. She thought of her mother, painting by candlelight and she knew that was why she liked churches: they reminded her of her mum, the peaceful mother that would quietly paint in the half-light and not the manic mother that would continually forget to collect her from school.
‘Hello?’ she called out tentatively.
Adrian had no such compunction and walked down the aisle and up towards the altar.
‘Hello?’ His voice echoed hers. Seconds later a door opened to the side of the altar and a priest emerged.
‘I’m Father Berkeley. How can I help you?’
Imogen joined Adrian as the priest approached, they both pulled out their IDs and the priest’s smile got a little tighter.
‘We’re conducting an investigation. We heard that you have a lot of homeless people in and out of here. We just wondered if you had noticed anyone missing recently?’ Imogen said, as Adrian wandered off towards the candle bank, the tiny shine of the tea lights burning away even when no one was there.
‘It doesn’t really work like that,’ Father Berkeley told them politely, clearly already eager for them to leave. ‘People come and people go.’
‘Do you know a man called Bricks?’ Imogen asked him.
‘Yes, Bricks came here sometimes. He was a strange one. I occasionally invite people to eat with me. He came and had dinner a couple of times but I didn’t invite him back a third time.’
‘Why was that?’
‘He was quite unpleasant and made me feel uncomfortable. You know when someone has a darkness about them? I imagine you get something similar in your line of work, like an instinct about people.’
‘When was that, sorry?’ Imogen ignored the priest’s extraneous comments, unwilling to engage in a conversation with him about the similarities between their line of work.
‘Probably around a month ago. He had a bit of money on him. I had to ask him to leave because he was quite rude to one of my parishioners, used the “c” word.’ The priest shook his head. ‘I threatened to call the police and he went off. I haven’t seen him since then.’
‘A month ago?’ Adrian looked at Imogen and pulled out his phone. This was news to them.
‘Do you have any idea who he hung out with? Do you have a photo of him?’ Imogen said to the priest.
‘No I don’t, he was always a bit antisocial, never came to any of the church gatherings for the homeless. I don’t think he liked me. You can’t like everyone though, can you?’
‘Indeed,’ Imogen said. ‘Thank you.’
The priest nodded and went into a back room. Imogen turned to see Adrian putting money into the collection box; as she watched him, he picked up a candle and lit it, placing it in the tiered metal candle holder. She thought he might even be praying for a moment before he turned to look at her.
‘Anything?’
‘Nope. But he obviously wasn’t in prison a month ago. We need to get Gary on the case. What are you doing?’
‘What does it look like?’
‘I didn’t think you were into all that.’
‘I’m just lighting a candle, Grey, calm down.’
‘I think we’ve known each other long enough for you to know that telling me to calm down is a bad idea.’
‘Why don’t you light one?’
‘Why would I do that? I’m not Catholic.’
‘You just do it for yourself, to remind yourself of the people you care about,’ Adrian said. ‘It just feels good.’
‘Who would I do it for?’ she said. Her mind immediately went to Dean, followed by a quick burst of shame for not thinking of her mother first.
‘You could do it for your mum; you’re already thinking about her.’
‘That’s not going to help her though, is it?’ Imogen’s mother Irene had never gone for more than a week without her. Now she was away with a man Imogen didn’t even know, in another country.
‘No, but it might help you.’
‘Fine.’ Imogen wasn’t sure who she was more concerned for. Irene for being with a strange man, or her newly found father Elias, who might disappear altogether again after spending so much time with Irene. After realising how unstable she was.
Adrian pulled out another pound coin and put it in the collection box. Imogen lit a candle and placed it next to Adrian’s, while she desperately tried to stay focussed on thinking about her mother. That was how it worked, wasn’t it? Bizarrely, she did feel better.
‘Who did you light yours for?’ she asked him.
‘You.’
‘Me? What’s wrong with me?’
‘The age-old question, eh?’
‘Seriously – why?’
‘Because you’ve got a lot going on right now, Grey.’ His expression was kind. ‘Plus, I’m not actually allowed to say anything nice to you for fear of you knocking my block off.’ They stared at each other for a moment.
‘Let’s go, Miley. We’ve got work to do, we need to find out who the body in the signal box belonged to, and how long Bricks has been out of prison,’ she said, conceding that it was nice to have someone in her corner that she trusted. She knew she gave Adrian a hard time, but she got the impression he liked it that way.
Chapter 9
Gabriel sat in the waiting room outside the mental health nurse’s office. He was disturbed by the fact that he was actually looking forward to it, looking forward to speaking to someone in private without the fear of something terrible happening. Apart from mealtimes, Gabriel didn’t see much of anyone else, especially now that Jason was gone, forgotten, and it didn’t seem like he would be coming back. Sol would walk past every now and then and knock but that was as much human contact as he’d had since being inside. So far, he had witnessed three fights break out, all minor, but still with an intensity that threatened to spread among the other inmates and cause a much bigger problem.
Gabriel had carefully studied the prison officers to see which ones he needed to be on guard with. The officer who had escorted him here, Hyde, seemed to be the most volatile of the bunch. His bloodshot eyes were disengaged, he always looked tired and was constantly rubbing his eyes with the backs of his hands. How long before you got burnt out in a job like this? Gabriel wondered how many years he had worked here. He thought about all the men he must have seen come and go and then come back again. Who was really in prison here? Most of the prisoners here would do three years at most and then they got to go home, wherever that was, and forget. The unlucky ones like Gabriel would get moved to a different prison after sentencing. Not everyone came back, not everyone reoffended. Hyde, however, had been here longer than most of the other guards, he seemed to be the one that they turned to when things went south. He stared at these same walls as the prisoners every day, locked in the same buildings, leaving only to go home and sleep in his bed at night before returning again in the morning.
‘Come in,’ the nurse called from inside. Natalie Barnes was the mental health nurse provided to various facilities in the area. She visited this prison twice a week but this was Gabriel’s first visit with her; he was nervous, but looking forward to spending time with a female. The complete absence of women in the prison was something nobody had prepared him for and he hadn’t really considered it until he’d been faced with it.
Gabriel stood up and went in, sitting himself down in the chair next to her desk. She nodded to Hyde to leave them alone and he closed the door.
‘How are you doing, Gabriel? Just want to check and see how things are.’
‘OK.’
‘This is your first offence?’
‘It is.’
‘How do you think you’re adjusting to the routine?’
‘OK.’
‘Have you made any friends yet?’
‘Not really.’
‘Time goes a lot slower when you’re on your own, you know. It’s important you make a connection in here if you can. It can help with the day to day.’
‘I’ll keep that in mind,’ he said reluctantly, not comfortable with conversation yet.
‘What are you missing most about the outside world?’
‘Everything?’ He half-laughed at the stupidity of the question. Freedom, freedom is what he missed the most.
‘I mean one thing. What one thing do you miss the most? Your parents? Your girlfriend? Your dog?’
‘I don’t have a dog; my parents have washed their hands of me and I don’t think my girlfriend is my girlfriend anymore.’
‘There must be something.’
‘To be perfectly honest with you, I miss walking. Just going outside and walking wherever I want. It’s that simple. And music I guess, I miss listening to music. I’ve never really been one to watch TV.’
‘Did they not tell you that you can buy a radio through the canteen?’
‘No?’
‘It will only be a basic thing, but maybe that will help.’
‘Thank you.’ Gabriel was excited for the first time in a week; the concept of a radio giving him an unexpected burst of hope.
‘OK, well I’ll check on you again next week. Please – do think about what I’ve said and try to make some friends.’
Gabriel stood up and Hyde opened the door. Back to the cell. He was surprised at how quick the meeting had been. Was it because he had said all the right things? If he had said he needed help, would they have listened? The whole thing felt like an exercise in box ticking, no one really cared if he was coping or not.
Bang-up again, thirty minutes in the cell to think about his meeting with the nurse, to think about what she’d said and how he should be making friends. He was lonely, and left alone with his thoughts he knew it wouldn’t be long before he slipped into a rut of despair; he needed to trust someone, he needed to at least try.
Gabriel was working out in his cell at every opportunity he could get. The outside facility had been closed due to constant outbreaks among the inmates and the fact that on two occasions a drone had dropped suspect packages into the exercise yard. The prison was in the process of appealing for funds to stop this kind of thing. In the thirty minutes ‘bang-up’ time, Gabriel had worked his way to over a hundred press-ups in less than a week, marginal gains, adding an extra five onto every other set he did. When he’d arrived in jail, he’d barely been able to do a quarter of that without the asthma niggling at him. He figured his breathing was like any other muscle that needed to be stretched, and so he did ten rounds of twenty press-ups a day, pausing for breath in between.
He was just finishing up when the doors unlocked.
Roll call.
He noticed less and less people looking at him during roll call, which was a blessing. He was no longer the new guy, no longer unpredictable and unknown, he hadn’t done anything rash or exciting and so now he was no more interesting than anyone else. He sometimes wondered if they even knew he was there. Beside his brief interactions with Sol, everyone else stayed away from him. He would slip out and then back in without anyone so much as batting an eyelid. Just the way he wanted it. Roll call was over and he went back inside his cell.
‘Webb?’ Barratt said from the doorway.
Gabriel stood up immediately.
‘Yes?’
‘I believe you wanted one of these?’ Barratt held out a box with a brand-new radio in it. For the first time in a week, Gabriel smiled.
Chapter 10
Adrian walked along his road, past Uncle Mac’s corner shop. The orange and grey tones of dusk were settling into daylight. He hadn’t been in the shop for a long time, not since they had connected it to a human-trafficking operation four months ago, an operation that was still under investigation. The place had been stripped and new management had taken over, but he still couldn’t bring himself to go inside. He thought about his old friend Eva, the girl who had worked in the shop, and wondered if he would ever see her again. The thought of it filled him with anxiety; seeing her again would force him to confront the guilt he felt. When he thought of all the time they spent talking, she could have told him what had happened to her, that she had been trafficked, that she was there against her will. He wanted to blame her for not saying anything but the truth was he should have known something was very wrong. These days, he walked to the nearest supermarket on the main road for his necessaries. He counted the extra fifteen-minute walk as part of his punishment, it did nothing to alleviate his conscience though.
Adrian’s phone beeped in his pocket, it was a text from Tom. Adrian had made Tom promise to check in every morning since the menacing visit a couple of months ago from Tom’s stepfather, Dominic. He asked Tom to come and live with him on a weekly basis but Tom insisted he needed to stay home and look after his mother, Adrian’s ex Andrea. The text was a timely reminder for Adrian to check in with Gary for progress on their own little investigation into Dominic. He replied to Tom and then sent Gary a message before putting his phone away.
As he reached his front door, Adrian felt in his pocket and realised he didn’t have his house keys. Again. Brilliant. He walked around to the side of the house and down the alley that the terraces backed onto. He hoped to God he had left his back door open; the lock was dodgy and sometimes he left it open because he was prone to forgetting his keys. He slung the carrier bag with the bread and milk over the wall, hoping the milk had made it intact; it usually did. He scaled the brick wall that backed onto his property, noticing that it was much harder to do than the last time he’d tried it. Clearly, he was out of shape.
‘Breaking and entering?’
He turned his head to look behind him back into the alley and saw Lucy Hannigan with her phone pointed at him, taking a photograph as he straddled the wall.
‘I forgot my key.’ He swung his leg over the side and she disappeared from view.
The back door to his house was open; he walked in and through to the front door. He could see the outline of Lucy in the glass just as the doorbell rang.
‘Fancy seeing you here.’ He smiled and opened the door.
‘I’m not staying.’ She stood steadfast in the doorway, hands in her jacket pockets.
He shrugged. ‘Fair enough. How did you get my address?’ Had he brought her back here last time? His brain hurt every time he tried to remember their previous encounter.
She pointed at her chest. ‘Investigative journalist – remember?’
‘Right.’
‘I googled you. After all that business with the newsagents near your house, it wasn’t hard to find. I just hung around a while until you turned up. To be honest I didn’t expect you to be up this early.’
‘I see. And what can I do for you?’
‘I found out the name of your missing man.’
‘You did?’
‘The homeless man that usually sleeps in the signal box, the one they call Bricks.’
‘How did you find out – no wait, don’t tell me … did you google him?’ Adrian smiled at her sarcastically.
‘No, although sometimes that does work. I have a few connections on the street, they know homelessness is an issue close to my heart, which means people that wouldn’t speak to you might speak to me. I’ve spent a few months working with these people in order to write this exposé, and they’re grateful that someone gives a shit, I guess. I spoke to Claire Johnson, the lady whose number I gave you, and she told me who you were looking for. I asked around and there were a few people who knew your guy, so I got his real name. Thought it might help you out.’
‘So, what’s his name then?’
‘His name is Theodore Ramsey – or Teddy Ramsey – or, you know – Bricks.’
Adrian nodded, making a mental note of the name. ‘Well, thank you for letting me know. Are you sure you don’t want a drink or anything?’ He was hoping she would say yes, there was something about her. He didn’t understand why he couldn’t remember her properly; she had rich brown hair that tumbled from her head, haphazard but perfect at the same time. Her eyes were so bright, especially with the thick black liner she wore deliberately smudged around the rims. She seemed impossible to forget. Yet somehow he had.
‘No thanks, I have a blog post to write.’ She winked as she backed away.
‘Sounds important. Am I in it?’
‘Not until you do something interesting …’ she called behind her.
He watched her until she disappeared around the corner. She seemed to be quite dismissive of him on purpose, which meant she had the measure of him. There wasn’t much that turned Adrian on more than an attractive woman with no interest in him whatsoever. What had he done to piss her off so much the first time they met?
Adrian closed the door with a big smile on his face. He walked back into the house and as he passed the threshold of the lounge door his skin prickled. Without looking in, he knew someone else was there.
‘Don’t worry, I’ve just come for a chat.’
Adrian pushed open the lounge door to see Dominic sitting on his sofa, smack in the middle, arms either side of him as though he had sat there a million times and this was perfectly normal.
Anger surged through him. ‘You can’t just let yourself in here whenever you want.’
‘Obviously I can.’ He shrugged. The fact that Adrian was a police officer obviously didn’t scare Dominic, and that scared Adrian.
‘What do you want, Dominic?’
‘Just checking in, seeing what you were up to.’
Adrian glanced over to the dining table; the bag of paperwork he and Gary had been working from was tucked safely to the side of it, undisturbed. It was in a reusable carrier bag so he guessed it probably didn’t look all that important.
‘Why?’
‘I just wanted to make sure you were behaving yourself.’
‘Get out before I call for back-up.’
‘Come off it Adrian, you don’t frighten me and you know it.’ He smiled. ‘Actually, this visit is about Tom.’
‘What about Tom?’ Adrian felt sick whenever Dominic said his son’s name.
‘He’s not been very cooperative at home lately, I think maybe he needs a little stability at the moment, so you won’t be seeing him for a while.’
‘You can’t do that.’
‘According to the court, we need your signature to take Tom out of the country. He’s had a tough year, I think you’ll agree, and he needs a treat.’
‘What are you talking about? Take him where?’
‘Undecided at present, but he’s going to be missing some weekends with you, I’m afraid. I have discussed it with Andrea and we both agree that these visits with you are unsettling for him.’
‘I have a custody agreement.’
‘Of course, this is a courtesy. I am asking nicely.’
‘Well, I’m saying no nicely.’
‘You know, I could make sure you never see either of them again. I can make them disappear.’
There was a pause. Adrian wasn’t sure exactly what he was saying. Was he threatening to kill them? Knowing that he had contacts in human-trafficking added a certain gravitas to Dominic’s threats, it had to be said. Adrian didn’t have anything now, no concrete evidence to pull Dominic in. His instinct was telling him to kill him, but that wouldn’t help anyone.
‘Why are you doing this? Why are you fucking with me?’
‘I don’t like you.’
‘I’ve made it clear that I’m not interested in Andrea anymore, so what threat am I to you exactly?’
‘No threat at all.’ Dominic stood up and dusted his coat as though he had just fallen in mud. ‘But, Adrian?’
‘What?’
‘If I find out you have been sticking your nose where you shouldn’t, you’ll be sorry. You’ll never see your son again.’
Adrian tried to ignore the sound of his own heart pounding in anger; he mustn’t submit to it even though all he wanted to do was drive his fist through Dominic’s expensive porcelain smile. Instead he stood to the side, waiting for Dominic to pass. Dominic didn’t move for a few moments, just stared at Adrian. A cold stare, a stare that turned Adrian’s stomach, like the dead black eyes of a shark. The beginning of a smile adorned his face as he passed Adrian and walked to the front door. Adrian followed behind him, making sure he stepped onto the pavement. He didn’t turn to look back at all, just started walking away. Adrian closed the door behind him. He wanted to look out of the window and watch him leave properly, make sure he was gone, but that felt too much like succumbing to fear and he’d promised himself a long time ago that he wouldn’t be bullied. Instead he walked straight out of the lounge and into the hallway, punching the wall to release the fury that had built inside him.
How dare he? How dare he come into his house, how dare he mess with his family? Adrian felt powerless against this man, but he needed to find out more before he took any action. If he behaved rashly, he might put his son in danger and that wasn’t something he was prepared to do. Patience was not something that Adrian had an abundance of, but he needed to be smart here. He needed to play the long game to win rather than employing his usual reactionary tactics of hit first, ask questions later. He rubbed his throbbing knuckles and tried to calm down. He couldn’t let Dominic push his buttons, couldn’t let him win this time.
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