Landslide Page 8

  ‘But I’ve never heard DCI Wright play the race card as you call it before the argument kicked off yesterday’.

  ‘No, that’s true’ Joe conceded. ‘I’ve never heard him play it before either’.

  ‘And I don’t think he was playing the race card then either’ said Barton. ‘He was stating what is a fact. If you’re from an ethnic minority you are less likely to benefit from the justice system than if you’re white. So your response to his assertions was unjustified and indeed it got rather personal when you referred to his daughter’.

  ‘I realise I overstepped the mark there, sir’.

  ‘You certainly did, DC Alexander and if I ever hear you step over the mark like that again I will have you out of this force let alone my squad. Is that understood?’

  Joe swallowed. ‘Yes, sir’.

  ‘Have you apologised to DCI Wright yet?’

  Joe blushed. ‘No, sir, I haven’t’.

  ‘Then that will be the first thing you do when we get back to the station’.

  ‘Very well, sir’.

  ‘And once you’ve done that you can consider your bollocking over’.

  ‘Sir’.

  ‘But DC Alexander’ said Barton in a deeper more intense tone than before. ‘If I ever hear you use racially offensive language again I’ll put you on an official charge that will go on your record and may severely damage your chances of promotion. Is that clear?’

  ‘Yes, sir’ said Joe who thought that Barton was a real sly old fox. He kind of led you into a reprimand almost without you realising it until the words and the tone he delivered them in have sunk in. A real skill. But even though he would do as Barton asked and he did genuinely like DCI Ollie Wright and deeply regretted upsetting him, he would still hold to his overall views inside. He wasn’t a racist. He resented being labelled as a racist just because he didn’t embrace immigration as a wholly good thing and he’d voted for the UK to leave the EU on the basis that he believes the UK needs to regain control of its borders. His parents who’d been lifelong Labour supporters had switched to UKIP at the last election because they felt that Labour no longer represented the interests of the working class. Tony Blair had turned the party into a feeding frenzy of every minority that was going. The referendum on the EU was the only opportunity they’d had in decades to voice their opposition to anymore stripping away of traditional British values. It was all swirling around in Joe’s head but the last thing he wanted was to get into a debate with the boss about it. He was struggling to get back into his good books as it was.

  ‘Well I’m glad that’s sorted’ said Barton although he wasn’t entirely sure that it was. ‘Now let’s focus on Mrs. Vivian Matthews’.

  When they arrived at the address in Failsworth, North Manchester, they found what looked like a neatly kept semi.

  ‘How the spoils of war can make the sordid look respectable’ said Joe.

  ‘You’re not kidding, Joe’ Barton agreed. ‘And I thought we were freezing the assets of known criminals these days’.

  ‘It’s proving their purchase history though, sir. That’s not always easy’.

  ‘Welcome to the world of the career criminal’.

  ‘Get the missus up the duff in between spells of porridge just to keep the welfare benefits coming in. And you and I are paying for it’.

  ‘Well if irresponsible fatherhood was a crime, Joe then we wouldn’t have the time to investigate anything else’.

  When the front door opened they were greeted by a strikingly attractive woman who was just on the right side of beginning to go to seed. Or at least she would be if she didn’t spend such obvious amounts of money on her appearance. She was made up to the nines and was wearing a retro sixties outfit in a kind of pale green colour with short sleeves and a straight down shape that finished just above her knees. She had a good figure too for someone who was well into her forties and had given birth to three children. But her overall appearance didn’t make it look like she was worried about what had happened to her husband Terry. Quite the reverse.

  After introducing themselves she led them inside and into the living room. It was surprisingly unremarkably decorated compared to the lady of the house. Barton wondered if it was a case of whilst the cat is away then the mouse will play. Is this how she’d learned to sustain herself during all those years when Terry was incarcerated at her Majesty’s pleasure.

  ‘Have you found him yet?’ she asked. ‘My husband?’

  ‘I’m afraid not, Mrs. Matthews’ said Barton. ‘But I can assure you we are looking’.

  ‘You read the sceptic look on my face then’.

  ‘Let’s just say I’ve seen that look before’ said Barton. ‘Have you heard from your husband, Mrs. Matthews?’

  ‘If I had I would’ve told you’.

  ‘Of course you would’ said Barton. ‘Your husband has spent more time in prison than he has out of it’.

  Viv sighed. ‘Your point being?’

  ‘Well I just find it rather curious that having been married to Terry for almost twenty-five years since you were both teenagers you don’t seem to have any idea who he works for’.

  Viv shrugged her shoulders. ‘Ask any wife in my position and they’d tell you the same. We don’t exactly get together for fancy meals with all the wives accompanying their husbands and their associates. It’s not like working in some office somewhere’.

  ‘I’m aware of that, Mrs. Matthews’.

  ‘Well then you should be aware of the rest of what goes with our kind of life’.

  Barton was surprised at how forthright and upfront Viv Matthews was being about her life as the wife of a known criminal. She’d obviously taken the path of it being completely pointless to try and pretend that she didn’t know what Barton was talking about. Terry had been a notorious member of Bernie Connelly’s gang and that’s what had led to all of his prison terms. She knew that they’d never been able to get Connelly himself but again that went with the territory of a lifetime associated with criminality.

  ‘I’m just not prepared to believe that you have no idea what might have happened to your husband’ said Barton, firmly. ‘I think you know significantly more than you’re letting on. Your whole demeanour suggests to me that you’re quite calm about your husband’s disappearance meaning that you either know what’s happened to him or you know he will return safe and sound’.

  ‘I really don’t know what you’re talking about’.

  ‘Well if you change your mind then please call me’ said Barton who then handed Viv Matthews his card. ‘And please bear in mind that I will be receptive to any form of discussion on a mutually acceptable outcome. I’m sure you get my meaning. But just one more thing before we go. Do you know why your husband was travelling in a car with the body of a dead teenage girl in the boot who’d had her feet chopped off?’

  Viv looked up at him and said ‘No’.

  ‘It doesn’t disturb you that he was involved in something like that?’

  ‘I never ask any questions. That way I get told no lies’.

  ‘Did you buy any of what she said in there, sir?’ asked Joe Alexander after they got back into the car.

  ‘Not a single fucking word’ Barton replied. ‘She knows something that we need to know. The trouble is finding it out’.

  ‘She didn’t seem to give a fuck about her husband’s disappearance either’ said Alexander.

  ‘You’re right, Joe and that makes me even more suspicious’ said Barton. ‘I’m going to put her under surveillance. Let’s see if we can find out what our Vivian is hiding’.

  DS Adrian Bradshaw momentarily forgot that he was coming home to an empty house. He’d packed off his kids to their Grandma’s house for the week whilst nice but dim Tim the builder completed the fitting of the new kitchen. Breakfast and lunch were taken on the road whilst his Mum cooked his evening meal to have with the kids. He was tired tonight and decided to come home reasonably early. It had been a hard day that had started with the bollocking tha
t DSI Barton had given the team. He’d silently supported the boss. It was precisely what they’d needed because he could see that people were forgetting what a well-disciplined team was all about. Some had suggested that the boss was a little too hands off and trusted his officers a little too implicitly to act like grown-ups. Adrian didn’t really think that was the case. He did however think that his mate Joe Alexander had been exceptionally offensive towards DCI Ollie Wright. Rifts had now broken out all over the place and the coherence that had once defined DSI Barton’s team was in danger of falling apart. In the end he didn’t think any of them would allow that to happen but they had to make efforts to fix it. It wouldn’t just fix itself. He’d have to have a stern word in his mate Joe’s ear. Dealing with Joe was like dealing with one of his kids at times. The bleeding obvious was that Joe had completely fucked up his life with that brainless slag he was hooked up with and who was clearly only after a meal ticket. That’s what was making him hit out but when he brought it into work it became unacceptable.

  He turned onto his drive and saw that Tim the builder was still there. He let himself in through the front door which was to the right of the kitchen where he found Tim.

  ‘You’re working late’ said Adrian. ‘It’s almost half past eight’.

  ‘You wanted it all done by Friday, didn’t you?’

  Adrian was slightly taken aback by the sharpness in Tim’s tone. Or was he feeling just a little bit oversensitive because he was tired?

  ‘I was just making an observation, Tim. I wasn’t in any way criticising’.

  Adrian’s kids had persuaded him to go for a very modern look of metallic silver and black wood in very much a galley style kitchen that Adrian thought would end up looking like something off the set of Doctor Who. But as it came together and he could see the reality of it before his eyes he was beginning to take to it more. He’d already taken to Tim in a physical sense. Tonight he was wearing a white t-shirt over blue jeans and an extremely tempting patch of hairy bum cleavage showed every time he knelt down and bent over. Adrian also now knew that Tim bought his underpants from Marks and Spencer.

  ‘I’m going to pour myself a scotch’ said Adrian. ‘Can I interest you in one?

  ‘I don’t drink alcohol anymore’ said Tim, flatly.

  ‘No, of course not’ said Adrian.

  ‘I don’t need it’ said Tim, rather piously. ‘Besides, I like to stay in control’.

  Of course you do, thought Adrian. Mustn’t let your true feelings show.

  ‘Oh well you don’t know what you’re missing’ said Adrian. ‘Excuse me’.

  Adrian went through to the lounge and poured himself a scotch from the bottle in the drinks cabinet. What was wrong with Tim nice but dim tonight? The grumpy sod had got it on him about something.

  ‘So how’s life with the God squad then, Tim?’ when he came back into the kitchen.

  ‘The God squad?’ Tim scoffed. ‘You make it sound like some kids TV programme’.

  ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to’ said Adrian. ‘Is anything wrong?’

  ‘Wrong? I’ve given my life to Jesus. What could possibly be wrong after that?’

  ‘Because it’s written all over your face that today is not a good day’.

  ‘Why should you care?’

  ‘I’d have thought you’d have wanted your fellow man to notice and to care?’

  ‘Depends what your real motivation is’.

  ‘What do you mean by that?’

  Tim stopped what he was doing and looked at Adrian. He’d always been one for wearing his heart on his sleeve which had brought him into conflict with his parents right from the word go. Neither of them were ones to show their feelings and they didn’t like it when others do, especially their children and most especially their sons who they expected to put on a brave face no matter what. Even Tim’s mother believes that emotion was only for women to show. He sometimes wondered if that was why he got swept up by the church because of the freedom it brought for him to open up his emotions and express them. And yet he hadn’t expressed all of them. There was one great big one he’d held back.

  ‘My daughter Sonia, my eldest, she’s just turned fourteen’ Tim began. He placed the large spanner he’d been holding on the top of his tool box. He didn’t want to risk leaving any mark on any of the new surfaces he’d just put in, especially given that they were metallic silver and would be quick to show even the slightest blemish. He crossed his big arms across his big chest. ‘She admitted to us recently that she’d been experiencing unnatural feelings for her best friend at school’.

  ‘Unnatural feelings?’

  ‘She’s admitted to having an unnatural attraction to her best friend Amber’.

  ‘You mean she thinks she’s a lesbian?’

  ‘Don’t use that evil word’.

  ‘It isn’t evil to be a lesbian, Tim’.

  ‘It is because it’s against the word of the Lord’ said Tim emphatically. ‘And the true word of the Lord must be obeyed. I will not have my children fall victim to these Godless times. His word must be obeyed’.

  ‘So what are you going to do about it?’

  ‘Are you asking me as a friend or a police officer?’

  ‘That’s a strange question?’

  ‘Is it? The establishment in this country have declared war on people like me and they use the police to enforce it’.

  ‘People like you?’

  ‘Fundamentalist Christians. Everyone wants to paint us as extremists but we just want to live faithfully to the Lord’s word. That’s why we’ve let the pastor deal with Sonia’.

  ‘The pastor? You mean the pastor at your church?’

  ‘Yes’.

  ‘Well what’s he doing about it?’

  ‘He’s taken her to one of the church’s retreats that they have over the school holidays for children in their congregations who are causing problems to their parents’.

  ‘To do what with them?’

  ‘Whatever the Lord inspires them to do in order to remove the devil from their soul’.

  Adrian couldn’t believe he was hearing this. ‘Are you out of your mind?’

  ‘Excuse me?’

  ‘Have you been so fucking brainwashed that you believe any old piece of crap from someone about your daughter just because they’re wearing a dog collar?’

  ‘Now you’re really being offensive’.

  ‘No, I’m trying to get you to see sense!’ said Adrian. ‘Do you know where they’ve taken your daughter?’

  ‘I trust Pastor Gabriel’.

  ‘I’ll take that as a no then’.

  ‘She’ll be back at the weekend’ said Tim. ‘It’s only for the school holidays’.

  ‘And have you spoken to her since she left?’

  ‘No’.

  ‘Any contact at all?’

  ‘No!’

  ‘So you’ve had no contact with your daughter and you don’t know where she is. All you do know is that she’s with a bunch of religious fanatics and all because she might be a lesbian. Well wake up and smell the coffee, my friend. Lesbians are out there and they exist and they function as perfectly normal human beings’.

  ‘But I don’t want her to be like that!’

  ‘But if that’s who she is then you’ve no right to try and change it! And you’re an absolute idiot to even think that you can. What does your wife say about it?’

  Tim lowered his head. ‘She’s not as far down the road to God fearing enlightenment as I am. It’s been a running sore between us and it’s affected the whole family. Why do you think I’m working so late? But as the husband and therefore head of the family my word is what goes in the end’.

  ‘Christ, you really are a throwback’ said Adrian. ‘Tim, do you know how vulnerable some young people are to people who want to impose their sordid views on them? I’m investigating the case of a young girl at the moment who got caught up in God knows what and you’re telling me, as the father of a girl of similar age, that you don’t know w
here she is at this moment or who she’s even with. And you’re quite happy about that?’.

  ‘But it’s all my fault!’ he blurted out. ‘I blame myself’.

  ‘How so?’

  ‘It’s part of the reason why I’m being nailed to the cross’

  ‘What is?’

  ‘Part of my agony on the cross is to have to watch my daughter going through such devil inspired pain’ said Tim who was close to tears. His pretty little girl Sonia had almost been dragged screaming to the car when Pastor Gabriel came to take her away to the retreat. She really hadn’t wanted to go. He’d never forget the look in her eyes when she stopped fighting with the two women the Pastor had brought with him to help him. She’d fixed him with a look of absolute betrayal that she would probably never forgive. But he had to stand firm. He was doing the Lord’s work. Even if his wife Muriel hadn’t spoken a word to him since Sonia went away.

  ‘It’s a pretty twisted kind of God to me if he makes your daughter suffer because he thinks you’ve done wrong’ said Adrian who was watching Tim grow increasingly tense and worked up. He was shifting about on his feet. He was clasping and unclasping his hands, folding and unfolding his arms. This wasn’t something he was comfortable with in any kind of way. ‘Sounds like more of a sadist to me’.

  ‘Adrian, I accept that you have a different opinion to mine but please don’t insult God like that’.

  ‘Well I’m trying to get you to tell me why it’s all your fault if your daughter is a lesbian? Because it’s nobody’s fault, Tim. It’s just the way she is’.

  ‘And if it was your daughter?’

  ‘It would make absolutely no difference to me’.

  ‘Then you’d ignore the fact that she was being used by the devil to do his work’.

  ‘I’d ignore people who said that’ said Adrian. ‘Because I believe them to be wrong and horribly misguided’.

  ‘And am I horribly misguided when I’m lusting after other men? I’ve always done it. Right from puberty. That’s why I’m being punished by having to watch my daughter go though it’