A Long Shadow, page 6
Dive teams were called in and the riverbed dredged, but Emma’s body was never found. It was noted that the current on the river was very strong in that area. Susie had indeed jumped into the river before the police arrived. She had got into difficulties herself and had to be hauled out by onlookers.
Opening Susie’s file was like stepping into another world. Looking at the many photos of her with professionally styled hair and make-up, it was hard to imagine she had been a schoolgirl only a few months before. When she took part in and eventually won the TV talent show, she claimed she was competing in memory of Emma, her best friend. It seemed the public was touched by the story, but there was an element of sniping from other contestants that she got ‘the sympathy vote.’
Most of the other articles covered the release of a new single or review of a concert. More recent cuttings from the local press covered the opening of The Haven. It seemed that while many in the city applauded what they were doing, some of their neighbours were less than impressed to have ‘down-and-outs’ on their doorstep. It seemed the soup kitchen wasn’t the first time Susie and Luke had ruffled the locals’ feathers. One piece that did catch Shadow’s attention was from a national tabloid written towards the end of Susie’s career. “Star’s Search for US Fame Ended By Drugs Shame” was the title.
“UK starlet Susie Slater, who rose to fame after winning ‘Star Search,’ had big plans to conquer America, but today those hopes and dreams have been cruelly dashed. Her childhood sweetheart, Luke Carrington, also the son of her manager Den Carrington, has been refused a visa, due to a previous drug conviction. Devastated, Susie refuses to leave behind the love of her life. For Susie, like the title of her smash hit single, it really does seem that ‘Love Leads the Way.’”
Shadow removed his glasses and rubbed his tired eyes. Closing both files, he felt reading them had created more questions than answers.
Chapter Four
Across 9 (4 letters)
Amore—that romance isn’t in English
Shadow left the office, and as it was a Tuesday, he decided to make his way back to Kings Square, where the soup kitchen was to be held. It had been unseasonably warm all week and his head was crammed with thoughts about Fay and Emma. Rather than taking the direct route, he opted to wander through the city first. Experience taught him this was the best way to clear his mind.
The locals had clearly been caught unawares by the mini heatwave. Girls strolled by in summer dresses exposing stark white legs and shoulders. Street vendors had hastily organised ice cream carts and were now doing a roaring trade.
As he crossed Lendal Bridge, Shadow glanced down and saw something that stopped him in his tracks. On the path below, by the river and along the edge of Museum Gardens, was the unmistakable figure of Mad Alice talking animatedly to Dr Stather. Shadow watched them. Alice was rapidly flapping her hands as she spoke. Stather seemed to be trying to calm her down, but she was clearly upset. Suddenly, she turned and quickly walked away. Shadow waited to see if Stather would follow her, but after a few seconds he too turned away and began walking towards the steps up to the bridge. Shadow had no wish to speak with the doctor again, so he put his head down and hurried on across the river.
*
By 5.30pm, it was still warm, but dark clouds were beginning to gather menacingly in the distance behind the Minster. Kings Square, however, was a hive of activity. A small army of volunteers wearing ‘The Haven’ T-shirts were setting up trestle tables and an awning, in case the threatening rain arrived early. Ryan and Kayleigh appeared with a couple of others. All four were swigging from cans of strong lager. Susie was unloading crates filled with plastic cutlery and crockery from the back of an estate car, while Luke leant against it and chatted to Byron and Kevin MacNab, of all people.
Shadow frowned. The last thing he needed was the journalist interfering this evening. Just then Kevin shook Luke’s hand and left with a cheery wave. Shadow was fairly confident he now knew who had given Kevin the photo of Fay. His eyes followed the journalist as he approached Ryan and Kayleigh’s group, then very quickly hurried away again. Judging by the jeering and hand gestures directed at him, they weren’t keen on talking to the press either.
Shadow continued to watch the scene in front of him unfold, from his table at the first-floor window of The Duke of York. He sipped a large glass of well-chilled Grillo. In one corner of the square, Mandy Morrison was bossily instructing a young, nervous-looking assistant as they put the metal security grids on the boutique windows. She then made an exaggerated show of attaching padlocks, as Norman shuffled past.
Various other figures, clutching grubby rolled-up blankets and overflowing carrier bags, began to arrive. Shadow did a quick tally. There must be at least twenty people waiting to be fed: some he recognised, some were strangers. A few confused Chinese tourists even joined the back of the line. He strained his eyes, but there was no sign of Mad Alice anywhere.
“Hi, Chief, mind if I join you?” Shadow jumped, almost spilling his wine, and looked up to see Sophie smiling down at him.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, pulling a chair out for her.
“Jimmy said to meet you here. I’ve got the results for the body we found last night.”
“How did he know I was here?” Shadow frowned. He hadn’t seen or spoken to Jimmy since they left Jake and Missy. It crossed his mind that Jimmy could have accessed the CCTV screens to track him. The thought made him feel very uncomfortable. At that moment, Jimmy himself appeared. Shadow stood up with a sigh, resigned to the fact his quiet drink was now over.
“So, what are you both drinking?” he asked, grudgingly.
“Just a mineral water, please, sir,” replied Jimmy, slipping into the seat next to Sophie.
“Well, I’m off duty, so a pint of cider for me please,” said the doctor with a grin.
Shadow made his way downstairs to the bar. Maybe he was old-fashioned, but he didn’t feel at all happy about ordering a pint for a woman.
He returned to the table a few moments later, carrying a tray holding the water and two half-pint glasses of cider.
Jimmy and Sophie had their heads together, talking intensely, but stopped abruptly as soon as they saw him.
“Sorry they’d run out of pint glasses,” he said, as he put the tray on the table. Sophie gave him a sceptical look, as he placed the two glasses in front of her but she didn’t complain.
“What have you two been plotting?” Shadow asked as he sat back down. Jimmy turned slightly pink, but Sophie answered smoothly.
“We were just chatting about mobile phones, Chief.”
“As far as I’m concerned, they are the work of the devil,” Shadow declared. “We managed perfectly well without them before.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” replied Sophie. “I’d be lost without mine and they are pretty handy for keeping track of people.”
Jimmy, who had been quietly sipping his water, suddenly burst into a coughing fit. Shadow thumped him on the back several times.
“Only you could choke on water!” he said unsympathetically.
“Are you okay, Jimmy?” asked Sophie.
“Fine thanks,” replied Jimmy, giving her a weak smile.
Shadow turned his attention back to Sophie. “So, what can you tell us about the body?” he asked.
Sophie took a gulp of cider before she began. “I’m really just confirming what I told you last night. The victim was aged between sixteen and twenty and she was killed by a blow to the head. Going on the conditions in the tunnel, I would put her death at between thirty and thirty-three years ago. So, assuming the info from Mr Stather is correct, thirty-two years ago sounds about right.”
“I think you’ll find that’s Dr Stather,” said Jimmy with a smile.
Sophie snorted into her drink. “Yeh, everybody wants to be called doctor, until they are on a plane with a guy having a heart attack, then they are nowhere to be seen.”
Jimmy laughed, but Shadow shuddered. He had a horrible feeling that he’d likely be the one having a heart attack on a plane with only Stather or, worse, Donaldson in attendance. He took a large sip of wine as Jimmy continued.
“Actually, there is some doubt over what Stather said. But I’ve checked the records at county and there were three females of the right age, reported missing between thirty and thirty-five years ago.” He retrieved his notebook from his pocket and scrolled through. “Sheila Jones, a young homeless girl last seen near Skeldergate Bridge. Jan Rennison, a student with a history of mental health issues, absconded from Bootham Hospital and…”
“Emma Harrison. Seventeen years old. Presumed dead, after falling into the river by Museum Gardens, thirty-two years ago,” Shadow interrupted.
Jimmy stared at him. “How did you know, sir?”
“I spent the afternoon reading about the life and times of Susie Slater and Emma Harrison. They were best friends. Emma was Oliver Harrison’s sister and Luke Carrington was her boyfriend. It seems the four of them were very close when they were teenagers.”
Jimmy slumped back in his chair, looking crestfallen, but Shadow was more concerned to see Sophie had already knocked back her first half.
“Any chance she could have drowned and then been placed in the tunnel, Sophie? Could she have got the head injuries falling into the river?”
Sophie shook her head.
“I don’t think so, although it is difficult to be accurate because the tunnel has been flooded so many times over the years. There were two injuries to the skull. At the back, something large and flat—I’m talking at least ten by fifteen centimetres—caused a fracture. It would have been enough to knock her out, but not kill her. Then to the front, a flat circular blunt instrument—about five centimetres in diameter—delivered the blow that killed her, instantly I would say. I certainly don’t think they were accidental injuries. Now I have a name, I’ll check the dental records and confirm her identity, so you can speak to the next of kin. Thanks for the drink. Have a good night!”
With that, she downed the second half and left.
“Crikey, she could put a rugby team to shame!” Shadow muttered. “Go on then, what else have you written down in that wretched digital notebook of yours today?”
Jimmy took a sip of water then cleared his throat.
“When I left you, I went to visit Ross. As soon as I told him that we knew he had lied, the poor kid burst into tears. He told me he’d seen Fay, for the first time in years, about a week ago. She was with a group who were smoking joints by the War Memorial, although she wasn’t smoking herself. Now, Ross had heard cannabis might help relieve his grandad’s symptoms, remember I said he had MS, but he didn’t know where to get hold of any. He approached Fay when she was on her own and she said she could get him a supply and they arranged to meet at Ted’s. That’s when we caught them on the CCTV.”
“How much money changed hands?”
“Fifty.”
Shadow let out a low whistle. “That explains how they could afford to celebrate Kayleigh’s release.”
“Yes, but Kayleigh said Fay didn’t have any money so I thought maybe Ted could be behind it. He’s got a conviction for supplying and it would explain why he was happy to let Kayleigh and Ryan stay the night.”
“Maybe.” Shadow was thoughtful as he sipped his wine. “By the way, did it work?”
“Sir?”
“The cannabis? Did it relieve Grandad’s symptoms?”
“Oh yes, huge improvement.”
“Anything else?”
“I checked the council’s CCTV for the night Fay died. It shows her arriving on Goodramgate with a sleeping bag under her arm at 11.15pm, but there’s a bit of a blind spot at the entrance to Bedern, where she was found. A few drunks stagger out of the Cross Keys not long after closing time and at about 11.30pm, three members of staff leave Catania’s. I checked and none of them spoke to her. That’s it, until Jake and Missy appear.”
“Did Fay have the vodka with her, when she arrived?”
“Not unless it was rolled up in the sleeping bag, sir.”
“And nobody approaches her at all?”
“No, you can only really see the edge of her sleeping bag, but nobody goes anywhere near her. Oh, the one interesting thing I did notice was Oliver Harrison, earlier in the evening. As he crossed over from Kings Square, he stopped to give some cash to Norman the Gnome, not sure how much, but definitely a note.”
“Well, I hope, for his sake, Mandy Morrison didn’t see him.”
Shadow was about to ask if anyone else of interest had shown up on the CCTV, when they were suddenly interrupted by a commotion from down in the square. Ryan, Kayleigh and their associates, had been knocking back cans of lager and becoming steadily rowdier. Mandy, accompanied by a heavily built, bald man, was now loudly informing them that drinking in the street was not allowed. Kayleigh began screaming and swearing in response. Luke stepped in to try and calm things down, but nobody seemed to be paying him any attention. Susie and the other volunteers continued to serve the hungry queue.
“I suppose we’d better get down there. Get uniform round too.” Shadow reluctantly drained his glass, as Jimmy took out his phone.
*
When they stepped out into the square, they walked straight into the path of Norman, who was shuffling by, a sleeping bag stuffed under his arm.
“You all right there, Norman? Had a good supper?” asked Shadow.
Before Norman could answer, Susie shouted from across the square. “No dawdling, Norman, get yourself somewhere undercover before the rain comes, like I told you.” She waved a rubber gloved hand at the two policemen.
Norman looked up at Shadow with his bloodshot eyes. “She’s an angel! An angel from heaven,” he declared before continuing on his way, narrowly avoiding the two police cars that had just sped into the square.
“Best see if uniform need your assistance, Sergeant,” said Shadow, nodding in their direction.
As Jimmy jogged over to the group causing the disturbance, Shadow located Byron perched on the edge of what had once been the graveyard, for the square’s long-demolished church. He was tucking into what looked suspiciously like treacle sponge.
“That doesn’t look very vegan,” commented Shadow.
“Ah, but it totally is,” replied Byron, cheerfully waving his plastic fork at the chief inspector. “It’s cassava heavy cake, one of Susie’s specialities. It’s amazing what they can do. Luke’s main course was a mean three bean curry. You should try some, Chief Inspector.”
Shadow shook his head. He could think of little worse. There was a loud uproar from the drinkers across the square and Jimmy jogged back across.
“Problem?” asked Shadow.
“Kayleigh’s being taken away. She’s broken the terms of her release, being drunk and disorderly. It wasn’t a popular decision with everyone. Ryan spat at one of the officers, so they’ve arrested him too.”
“Charming,” grunted Shadow.
“Ah, the demon drink strikes again,” sighed Bryon, as he forked up the last mouthful of cake. The three of them watched as Mandy Morrison and her companion applauded, while Ryan continued to shout and curse at the arresting officers.
“Who’s the muscle with Mrs Morrison?” asked Shadow.
“That’s Eric Morrison, her husband, Chief. He owned a taxi business in Malton and Scarborough, but now he’s operating here in York. According to one of the uniform guys, who used to work over on the coast, he’s a nasty piece of work. He’s been inside for assault. He didn’t take too kindly to some Polish guys setting up a rival taxi firm on his patch, so he and a few of his drivers went around and beat up the owner. Gave him a broken nose, two broken fingers and three cracked ribs.”
“He sounds even more amiable than his wife,” muttered Shadow. “Come on, Sergeant, there’s something else I want to check.”
They said goodbye to Byron and returned Susie’s rubber-gloved wave. Having finished feeding the hungry line, she was now busy clearing away the plates and pans. The police cars had left and the last of the drinkers were now staggering away.
“Well better late than never. It’s about time you lot did something useful,” Mandy shouted out to them, as they walked across the square.
“As ever we aim to please, Mrs Morrison,” replied Shadow, politely.
“Pity you didn’t arrest the lot of them. Causing a disturbance like that when some of us taxpayers are trying to run a business. There’s a law that says you can’t drink in the street here,” Mr Morrison joined in, pointing to the notice attached to a lamppost.
Shadow paused and turned towards the couple. “You are quite right, sir, and speaking of alcoholic beverages, I understand Mrs Morrison purchased one hundred miniature bottles of Holy Cow vodka for a fashion show early this year?”
Mandy and her husband exchanged a puzzled glance, before Eric puffed out his chest.
“So, what if we did? What’s that got to do with anything?” he asked, defensively.
“The young homeless girl, who was found dead not far from here, was killed by a contaminated bottle of that particular brand of vodka.”
Shadow thought Mandy appeared to pale beneath her thick make-up.
Eric turned to Shadow and pointed a stubby finger at him. “You should be ashamed of yourself, accusing innocent law-abiding citizens like us, when you let scum like those vagrants stay out on the streets. The city would be better off if you got rid of the lot of them. They are nothing but vermin. If I had my way, they’d all be gone.” Eric’s face was rapidly gaining the colour his wife’s had lost.
“We aren’t accusing anyone of anything, Mr Morrison, but we’ll be in touch about the vodka. Have a good evening, sir.” Shadow smiled pleasantly, then he and Jimmy continued across the square. Beneath a tree, on the bench recently vacated by Ryan and Kayleigh, they passed Luke, a rolled-up cigarette in his hand and his guitar by his side.
“Wow, man, those two really need to chill.” He sighed, shaking his head and blowing a couple of smoke rings that floated high into the air.
