Margaret opened up another file and perused the data available. Frowning, she looked back over the previous five files. Now this was much more interesting, as far as she was concerned. Smiling to herself, she printed off the information that interested her and placed it in her locker. It was her curious nature that had made her want to be a policewoman and it was this same curious nature that was now telling her she had stumbled on to something else entirely. Something that might bring her promotion a step closer.
‘Hello, love, have you got a minute?’
Kate smiled as she heard Desmond Clark’s voice. He was not only Patrick’s brief, but also a friend, and she had known him and his wife for many years.
‘How are you, Des? It’s lovely to hear from you.’
Desmond was quiet for a few moments. ‘Look, Kate, this is hard for me, but I have been asked to tell you that Patrick has had all your belongings packed up and he wants to know when it will be a convenient time to have them delivered. He has also asked me to inform you that he has requested that I work out a fair settlement for you given the years you’ve been together. He hopes you will understand that he wishes you the best, and requests that you only contact him through my office.’
Kate was stunned. Not only at Desmond’s words, but also by the way he so casually spoke them. The amiable man she had dined with, who she had spent holidays with, and who she had always regarded as a friend, was now talking to her as if she was no more than a stranger to him, someone to relay his client’s wishes to and then forget about. He was treating her as a problem that needed sorting, and Pat liked his problems sorted as quickly and as painlessly as possible. It was a learning curve, and Kate was sensible enough to learn from it.
She felt the hot flush of humiliation as it washed over her, and she wondered at a man who could so easily wipe away the years of easy friendship and the memories of times gone by. Good times. Times that had been captured on camera and reminisced about on more than one occasion. Des had been a regular visitor, along with his wife and family. Kate assumed that his wife would also be giving her a wide berth now that she was no longer with Patrick.
She swallowed down her anger and shame with difficulty. Then, taking a deep breath, she said steadily, ‘Tell Mr Kelly I will get in touch with you about the delivery of my belongings, as you so nicely put it, and you can also inform him that any settlement will need to be looked over by my own legal representatives. It’s not that I don’t trust you, Desmond, it’s just that I have an intimate knowledge of how you usually conduct any business dealings that pertain to Mr Kelly.’
‘That’s not fair, Kate.’
Kate could hear the indignation in his voice and it pleased her. ‘What’s fair then, Des? You tell me. Only, from where I’m standing, it seems that the only fairness I see is being directed towards your client, but then, what’s new?’
With that, Kate replaced the phone gently, pleased that she had not given into the temptation to slam it down with all the force she could muster. How dare Patrick try and remove her from his life like an errant mistress! How dare he get his brief to do his dirty work! She was finding it difficult to breathe, so great was her shock and disgust. That Pat could do that to her, and do it without a second’s remorse.
She felt the hot tears of humiliation and tried to force them away, tried to keep her dignity if nothing else. But it was suddenly too much for her. She felt old, old and useless. Patrick had hit her where he knew it would hurt most. He had abandoned her without a second’s thought, had reminded her that she wasn’t a girl any more. She had invested so many years in him, and she knew she would never get that opportunity again.
Kate had always looked down on those women who put a man before everything in their life, who believed that if you didn’t have a man, you had somehow failed. But it was important, she understood that now. It was about not being alone, it was about proving to yourself that you were still attractive, that you had the charm and the personality to be wanted by someone. She realised just how important it was to have someone in your bed waiting to put their arms around you and tell you how great you were. Having someone there to listen to you as you poured out your woes. Having someone to accompany you on holidays and make new memories with. Why had she never appreciated that before now?
She still had her job. She had her reputation and that had always been a big part of her life, of how she perceived herself. Kate was proud of what she had achieved, of how her work had penetrated so many lives. But now, one phone call had revealed her life for what it really was. She was on the wrong side of fifty and she’d been dumped. Pat had erased her from his life, and in a strange way she didn’t blame him. She should have stayed and talked to him, should have known that he would make sure she was protected in any way he could. After all, she wasn’t a real Filth any more, as he had so forcefully pointed out to her. She felt so betrayed, so unwanted, and yet she knew she had brought it on herself. What did she have left in life now that he was gone from her?
The future seemed bleak and frightening, she saw the years ahead as if she was already living them. She could see visits to her daughter Lizzy in New Zealand until she was unable to travel, she saw herself spending her time reading and wondering what might have been. But worse, she saw Patrick Kelly living the life he had lived until she met him. A life of money, skulduggery, and in the company of young women who would remind him that age was only a number.
She should have seen this coming, should have understood that she was putting him second, should have remembered that he was happy for her to do that as long as she assured him it was only temporary, only until she had seen through whatever she was working on. She had walked away from him, not the other way around, and she had forced this situation because of her reaction to his involvement in the girls’ working lives. He had to have known what the flats were being used for, so why didn’t that matter to her any more? Why was she so willing to overlook that if it would bring him back to her? Why was she such a hypocrite where Patrick Kelly was concerned? It wasn’t the first time either. She had overlooked much worse than this over the years. Love could do that to a body, it could make them do things they never believed possible.
Eventually, Kate laid her head on her arms and cried like she hadn’t cried in years. She sobbed out her pain and her anguish, not just for herself, and her life, but also for the young women whose lives had been cut so tragically short, and who she knew made her own problems seem nothing in comparison. But even understanding that didn’t make her feel any better. She wanted Pat, she always had, from the first time she laid eyes on him, and she knew that nothing was going to change that now. Unfortunately.
‘But I can’t see where you are coming from, Pat.’
Patrick swallowed down his annoyance. What was it with people that they always thought they knew better? Why did people he employed to run the businesses he had created, always think they had more of an edge than him?
‘If we open up the casino and the restaurants we can double the take, surely?’
Patrick looked at Danny and forced a smile that told everyone in the room that he was aggravated. Very aggravated. ‘Look, Danny, if we let any Tom, Dick or, in some cases, Danny, down those stairs, we will be just like any other casino or restaurant. We could be Southend, or fucking Canvey Island, use your fucking brains. What we lose out on with the roundabouts, we can more than make up on the swings. You see, a lot of our customers come to us because they ain’t going to run into the bloke who does their garden, or the bloke who frequents their pubs, clubs or chippies. Or, for that matter, the people who work in said establishments. Whatever their business happens to be, we ensure that they only rub shoulders with other like-minded individuals and that, I might add, goes for me as well. We entertain a lot of people down there who wouldn’t want the general public clocking their movements, if you get my drift. So, if you want to make suggestions in the future, my advice would be to try and think the fuckers through properly first.’
&n
bsp; Patrick laughed and looked at Desmond in mock amazement as he continued. ‘Can you imagine the boat-race of some of our more salubrious clientele as they shake hands with their own workforce, especially if said workforce were well oiled on free booze and in possession of a camera phone? I mean, far be it from me to piss on any lucrative fireworks, but I think the casino in question brings in more money through the contacts it attracts, than the actual gambling.’
Danny took the lambasting with good grace. He knew better than to disagree with Patrick in front of anyone. He also knew that, once they were alone, he could put his case across properly and succinctly and that he would get a fair hearing.
Patrick Kelly was a man of contradictions. Danny knew that his interest would now be piqued, and he would listen to the reasoning behind the proposal. He would then digest the information and give a fair response to it. But it was wearing sometimes, even though he knew Patrick could still teach him a good thing or two where business was concerned. Danny could feel himself chafing at the collar, but he also knew that was normal for anyone in his position.
Desmond, however, knew the real reason behind Patrick’s angry tirade and he hoped he saw the error of his ways. Kate was the best thing to have ever happened to him, if he could only see that for himself.
‘What about Bates and his involvement in the first incident?’
Desmond sighed. ‘The other crime scenes are apparently all sterile anyway, cleaned and polished after the event, so we got a pass. It was lucky for us because if the mad cunt had left anything behind, Peter would have been responsible for messing with it first time around. Anyway, we’ve had a swerve so let’s leave it at that. The other deaths are not being seen as anything to do with us or our involvement in the properties. Or any of our partners. In fact, as luck would have it, the girl who died last night was nothing to do with us at all, she was renting off old Maggie, so we can forget about it now. It’s all academic. You’re only on the paperwork, nothing can link you to the businesses personally.’
Patrick digested what had been said then, pouring himself a large brandy he said sarcastically, ‘So, what a stroke of luck for us. The girl who died didn’t die in vain. She inadvertently made sure we were all protected. I think we should find the culprit and shake his hand, maybe give him a night out in the casino, especially now we are letting anyone in.’
‘I never meant it like that, Pat, and you know it. I was just doing what I always do, what I am paid to do, protect you and your business interests. In other words, I watch your fucking arse, and sometimes you know, I have to do and say things I don’t particularly like, but I do it anyway, because that is my job. What I don’t have to do though, is listen to this kind of shit. So, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be on my way.’ With that, Desmond got up and walked from the room.
Danny Foster was nonplussed for a few moments, he had never experienced anything like this before with Patrick or Desmond. They had always been perfectly in tune. He guessed there was an underlying problem here that he didn’t know anything about. He also had the feeling that he didn’t want to know what it was about either, if this was how it was affecting them both. Desmond and Patrick went back longer than the Ark of the Covenant; if they were arguing like this, then it was serious.
Patrick stared at the door for long moments then, turning towards Danny, he said quietly, ‘Well, I think we can safely say I fucked him off, so how do you feel about me and you going out on the town?’
Danny grinned. ‘After that, I think it’s the only thing we can do.’
‘Do me a favour, Danny Boy? Never let your head rule your heart, it only leads to heartbreak, suspicion and a general feeling of dissatisfaction. And that, my young friend, is on the good days.’
Danny had enough sense not to give Pat any kind of answer. He understood that this was one of those times when all that was required was a drinking partner and someone who would listen, agree and then promptly forget what had been talked about. He also knew that Patrick Kelly had been like a pressure cooker lately, and he was on the point of exploding. What Patrick needed was an outlet for his emotions, and Danny decided he would make sure that was exactly what he was supplied with. A warm-blooded outlet.
‘You look fucking terrible, Kate. And coming from me, that’s quite something, given that I spend my days looking at dead people.’
Kate couldn’t help laughing, even though it was the last thing she had envisaged herself doing for a long time. Megan McFee was a tall, red-headed Scotswoman with a ready smile and a problem with food. Her eyes were a faded blue, but her high cheekbones and porcelain skin saved her from being plain. She had the skeletal figure of a supermodel, and the hands and feet of a ballerina, but it was her dress sense that really made her stand out. Like most people who secretly diet by forcing up anything they eat, she dressed in loose layers. It suited her somehow, she had good taste in clothes and they made her look almost normal.
‘You don’t look so good yourself. How’s things?’
Megan looked around the mortuary and, opening her arms wide, she said, ‘How do you think things are, Kate? I’m surrounded by the dead, the murdered, the unwanted and the relatives to match.’
‘You love it, Megan, and you know it as well as I do. Did you find anything else?’
Megan looked at her friend and saw the damage the years could do, to women especially. Kate looked old, wrinkled and pale, she wasn’t even trying to hide it. Bereft of make-up she looked every inch her age. Patrick Kelly must have had more going for him than she had thought if he had done this to her friend. Kate had always taken care of herself, and as someone for whom appearance was of paramount importance, Megan had admired that about her friend.
Kate said sarcastically, ‘Calling Megan, come in Megan McFee.’
‘There’s no need to be like that, Kate. I’m just shocked at your appearance, that’s all. You look like a bloody tramp or something. Sort yourself out, woman. You still have a life, which is more than I can say for this lot in here.’
Kate knew Megan meant well, but coming from someone who had battled bulimia all her adult life it rankled. But she knew Megan was trying to help in her own strange way. She did look terrible, and she knew it was being remarked on. She also knew she didn’t give a flying dinosaur about any of it.
‘Seriously, Kate, you need to remember that you are being observed by everyone, including the press. Get a grip.’
Kate swallowed down the retort that came so easily to her lips. Instead she said calmly, ‘Have you anything for me, Megs?’
Megan nodded. Suddenly she was all business and her whole demeanour seemed to change as she went to her desk and picked up some files. ‘The girls were given a cocktail of drugs. It’s taken a while to get the results back, you know what it’s like. It was the usual, cocaine, amphetamines. And then there was something different. A paralytic was used on them as well as the GHB and Roofie. A drug normally prescribed only to chronic insomniacs, and even then only for a few days at a time because of its potency and side effects. These range from hallucinations to psychotic breaks. In large doses it’s guaranteed to paralyse the patient so that, alongside the Rohypnol and GHB, would have laid these girls out in no time. They would have been unable to move, no matter what was being done to them. Danielle Crosby, the first girl, probably knew exactly what was happening to her and was unable to do anything about it. She would have put up a weak resistance, but some kind of resistance nonetheless. He must have learned from that as the others were given far larger doses. That rules out anyone in the medical profession. The girls would still have been aware of what was going on, for a short while at least.
‘The drugs that were used are available on the internet, or on the street. The doses were huge, they would have killed them anyway, or in the case of the paralytic, would have left them in a coma. Whoever this man is, he is using trial and error on them, the doses were all different. No thought has been given to, say, the girl’s weight, which, as with any drug, affects its p
otency. There was one anomaly though, that I found in all the girls. They had all drunk a mug of tea very close to the time they died. I think that’s how they ingested the drugs, through the stomach lining.’
‘Tea?’
Megan nodded, unfazed by Kate’s obvious disbelief. ‘Good old Lipton tea, to be exact. I made sure I found out the exact brand, I knew you would want to know. We aren’t exactly CSI Miami, but we do get there in the end.’
Kate nodded. ‘We didn’t find any cups or mugs at any of the crime scenes that held tea.’
‘I know that, there were a few used coffee cups, but they were harmless. Whoever gave these girls the tea took the time to take the drinking vessels with him when he left.’
‘He really does seem to think of everything, doesn’t he?’
Patrick was pleasantly drunk, and as he looked around the club he owned, he wondered why he didn’t come here any more. It was nice. It had a great atmosphere and good music, but then it was Over Twenty-fives night. And, best of all, it had a really well-stocked bar. He was enjoying every minute of it. He had liked the out once upon a time, even when he was married he had liked to get out once or twice a week with his mates. Of course it had been necessary at first, it was how he had done a lot of his business. He enjoyed the company of his peers, and liked the camaraderie between them.