Suffer the Torment, page 5
“Why didn’t you tell me about the girl in Castleton?”
“Sir,” Roy said, even though it pained him to call Nugent that, “I wasn’t aware myself. No one knew in fact; DI Sarah got the alert on her radio.”
“And she told you, but not me?” Nugent’s bushy black eyebrows did a caterpillar dance, and his nostrils flared.
“I told her to leave it with me,” Roy said smoothly, taking the onus away from Sarah.
Nugent frowned at him. “She called you?”
Roy didn’t want Nugent to know Sarah came to see him. He ignored the question. “When I heard about the case, I decided to attend. As I was the ranking officer at the crime scene, I decided to manage it, and report back to you when I knew more about the situation. Sir.”
Nugent narrowed his eyes. Then he exhaled, and the tension in his spine seemed to dissipate a little. But the fury didn’t leave his eyes.
“You should’ve told me as soon as you heard. You need my authority to be the SIO. Got that?”
Roy thought of several responses but chose to remain monosyllabic for now. “Yes.”
The snarl didn’t entirely leave Nugent’s face. Then again, it never really did. Roy sometimes wondered if the man was sexually frustrated. He was married, with adult children. Oliver had told him once about the rumours. Years ago, Nugent got done for putting his hands up a female constable’s skirt at the annual Yorkshire Forces Christmas bash. Roy knew these things happened more often than anyone knew. Most of the time, allegations against senior officers were hushed up with out of court settlements, and the young DC in question was moved to another station. It was despicable, and it would never happen on his watch.
“Right. What happened then?”
“The girl’s name is Emma Purkiss, we have a positive ID. I’m on my way to the school briefly to confirm she went there, then on my way to the parents.”
“Cause of death?”
“Murdered.” Roy passed a hand over his throat in a slicing motion. “She had evidence of self-harm as well. The name Gloria was carved on the left forearm.”
“I thought you said her name was Emma.”
Roy was tempted by a comeback but decided against it. “I did. We don’t know who Gloria is.”
The snarl became more pronounced on Nugent’s upper lip, curling it upwards. “How did you get a positive ID so quickly?”
“The schoolboys who were on the scene reported the crime, and one of them recognised her.”
“Really? Can he be trusted?”
If Nugent was speaking to a detective sergeant, or a freshly minted DI, Roy would understand the scepticism. Now, that attitude was not only misplaced, but also irritating.
His eyes bored into Nugent, and his voice turned icy. “Twenty years of policing tells me yes, he can be trusted. But I am going to double-check at the school, as that’s what I do. Sir.”
Nugent’s lips thinned. His wobbly chin trembled a little as his jaws clamped down.
“It’s different up here, you know. These schoolkids ain’t some soft southern boys. You don’t know what they’re mixed-up in.”
Roy ignored the southern jibe. Nugent was doing it on purpose, he felt, trying to get a rise out of him. He wouldn’t give the idiot that satisfaction. He smiled without mirth.
“Schoolboys are the same everywhere, sir. They find danger and daring a little attractive. If these boys are into something dodgy, we’ll find out.”
Nugent grunted. “Next time, make sure you run it past me, first. I authorise you to be the SIO.”
But you weren’t there when the call came through. In fact, you’re hardly ever here.
“Yes sir.”
Nugent relaxed in his seat, and folded hands over his ample belly. “Have you heard about the new DS joining us?”
“Melanie Sparkes? Yes, she used to be a DC in Rotherham for South Yorkshire Police. When does she start?”
Roy could tell from Nugent’s face he wasn’t happy that Roy knew. Nugent expected to fill him in. Roy smiled sweetly.
“She starts later today. I’ll bring her around when she reports to me.”
“Thank you.” Roy turned to leave, but Nugent called him back.
“DS Arla Baker called.”
Roy went still. His hands tightened a fraction. “What did she say?”
“As you know, you were meant to be here for a short time, to assist us with that boy’s abduction. Now that’s sorted, there’s no reason for you to be here, really.” Nugent shrugged, looking nonchalant, but it looked fake to Roy. He was hiding something.
“No point in me being the SIO then. I might as pack my stuff and get going.”
“Yes.” Nugent stared at him. “You could, nothing to stop you. But we don’t have a DCI in place as yet. We’re asking around and will put a job advert out as well soon. Until then, you can carry on.”
So, he was being put on watch, and this was Nugent’s power trip over him. Fine, Roy couldn’t be bothered. He didn’t give two hoots for what Nugent said or thought. But the man still hadn’t answered his question.
“What did Arla Baker say?”
“Oh, that.” Nugent rearranged some papers on his desk, and Roy frowned. Was he trying to waste time?
“She said there’s no real urgency for you to return to London. She asked you to give her a call.”
Nugent was acting casual, but Arla had clearly dispensed with him, and decided to go straight to Roy. He allowed himself a smile and was delighted to see it burn off badly on Nugent, whose eyes sparked like small flintstones.
“No problem, sir. I’ll give her a call.”
CHAPTER 11
Sarah was at her desk, and so were Rizwan and Oliver.
“Your tea’s gone cold.” Sarah indicated the mug on his desk.
It was in fact lukewarm, Roy thought as he cupped a palm over it. He sipped it and it was the strong, malty brew he loved.
“Two tea bags?” he asked Sarah, who nodded.
“Thought you needed waking up. Unless you got strung up in there,” She indicated Nugent’s office.
“You can say that again. I need to ring my boss in London.” He watched as their faces fell. He put his cup down.
“DS Baker asked me to call her. But apparently there’s no rush for me to get back right now. I’m staying on as SIO for this case.”
Sarah smiled, and the relief on the two DC’s faces was palpable. All of which was interesting, Roy thought. He had imagined they would be happy to see the back of him, but it seemed quite the reverse. He could be grumpy and demanding. Not easy to get used to a new team leader, that too from way out of town. But it seemed like a miracle had happened. Wonders would never cease.
He grinned, feeling that sense of comfort he had when he lay on the mountain peak in Hathersage. Weird that.
“Okay then. Who’s hungry? I’ve only had two cuppas this morning.” He patted his almost flat belly, courtesy of his weekly runs, which he had kept going. It was easy to run around the hills of the Don Valley. He said, “My shout, but later, after we speak to the family.”
“Ooh er,” Oliver intoned in his native drawl. “Bit peckish me, like. Not had my porridge this morning.” He looked at Rizwan across the desk.
Rizwan said, “I could eat the oven door if it were buttered.”
Roy grimaced at the young man. “What?”
Rizwan laughed. “Honestly guv, your face when you do that.”
Roy’s frown got deeper. “Do what?”
“This,” Sarah joined in, pointing a finger at him. Roy zeroed in on her with a stare that could melt a stone statue. For some reason, it made Sarah grin wider.
“Don’t like being left out, do yer?” Sarah said. “Don’t worry, I’ll put an egg under your cap, it’ll be alright, like.”
This confused the hell out of Roy, and his frown got deeper. “I really don’t know what you’re saying. Is that a riddle?”
Oliver was holding his belly and leaning over his table. He gasped, wheezed, then managed to get the words out. “I’ll be honest, haven’t heard that in ages,” he said to Sarah, who barked out a laugh. Then he turned to Roy.
“She’s only messing. If you can get by with an egg under your flat cap it means you can tolerate anything.”
“You’re clearly mistaken,” Roy grumbled and rose, then stretched to his full height. “I’ll be damned if I’m putting an egg anywhere on my body.” He glanced at Rizwan and Oliver.
“Did you get the Purkiss family’s details?”
Rizwan said, “Yes, and I’ve checked her name for any PCNs. None at present, and the mother, Natalie, is also clear. Seems like no man lives at that address. Natalie might be a single mother.”
Roy rubbed his forehead, thinking. “Why don’t you two come with us. You can have a look around the school after we leave to see Natalie.”
Sarah said, “Have a quick brekkie on the way?”
Roy shook his head. “Let’s get this done with, then come back for it. Still my shout though.” It would be good to have some team time over a late breakfast or brunch, he thought.
“Excuse me,” a voice said behind them. Roy turned around to see a woman standing there. She was about five-six, average build, and smartly dressed in black trousers, a white vest, and a burgundy jacket. Her dark hair cascaded down to her shoulders. Her chestnut brown eyes looked pensive as they looked up at Roy.
“I was told to come up here by reception. I’m looking for DI Sarah?”
“That would be me,” Sarah said, coming over her desk, and from behind Roy, whose bulk was hiding her.
“You must be Melanie Sparkes,” Sarah said, shaking her hand. She introduced Roy. “This is DCI Roy, our boss.” Roy shook hands with her. Sarah introduced Rizwan and Oliver. The latter smiled a little excessively and held on to her hand a tad longer than necessary, Roy noticed. He needed to tell Ollie off for that. He could fancy the pants off Melanie, but there was no need to show it in the workplace, especially on her first day. Besides, she was going to be his senior.
“Have a seat please,” Roy said, pulling up a chair for her. “We’re in the middle of a case in fact, so you’ve arrived just in time.”
Sarah asked Oliver to make cups of tea, and Rizwan went to give him a hand.
“How long were you in Rotherham for?” Roy asked Melanie.
“For three years. It’s a big town, but not a city. Crime levels were low, but still present. Mostly drug gangs and disrupting their supply chain.”
“There’s a lot that down south too,” Roy said. “Everywhere really, which is a shame. Have you done much homicide work?”
“A few, yes. As a DC up in Lancaster, and then a couple in Rotherham. I moved to Rotherham with my husband who’s a firefighter.”
“Long way to move,” Sarah said. “Been to Morecambe Bay for a holiday once. Nice up there.”
“Yes, but more jobs down here,” Melanie said, then smiled. “Also, I’m a Yorkshire lass but from further up, a village near Maltby. My husband’s a Lancashire man. He can get used to my family now.”
Roy went to Rizwan’s desk, and saw he’d left the laptop page open on Natalie Purkiss. He brought it to his own table.
“We have a bad one on our hands,” he told Melanie and showed her the laptop screen. “This is the mother of the poor girl who died.” He explained what they knew so far.
“Does the mother have a boyfriend, or any other close family who had contact with the girl?”
“We don’t know yet. But certainly, an avenue worth pursuing.”
“I would canvass all of the mother’s contacts to see who needs following up.”
Melanie knew her stuff and it was showing. Roy said, “We’re going to the school first, then to see the mother. Would you like to come along with one of the lads, and stay in the school to chat to the staff and students?”
“That’s what I’m here for.”
Roy approved her silently; glad she was going to hit the ground running. Rizwan and Oliver came back carrying cups of tea and biscuit.
Roy bit into a chocolate bourbon with a deep sigh of satisfaction, then picked up a custard cream and dipped it in his tea. Sarah tutted and he looked up to see her shaking her head.
“Not right. Best to have the brew separate.”
Roy held up the biscuit. “You’re not a dunker? Everyone dunks surely.” He did it again and reached for another. He pulled up his laptop and zoomed in on a map of the area where Natalie Purkiss lived. It was a residential area in Castleton, and a satellite image on the map showed rows of terraced houses. Bishop’s Manor school was one and a half mile away, just more than half an hour walk for a teenager, Roy thought. Emma probably took the school bus.
The crime scene was farther than he thought. A distance of almost seven miles, Emma certainly didn’t walk that in the middle of the night. Which meant someone picked her up, potentially the small car Pickering found tyre marks from.
Around the derelict industrial estate, it was the open countryside, hilly and forested. The nearest village was more than ten miles away in either direction. These villages were small, and where the miners lived in the old days. They were connected by narrow country lanes. Not an easy place to make a getaway from if you just killed someone.
He looked up at the team, his eyes settling on Melanie, the newest member. “Let’s get going.”
CHAPTER 12
Bishop Manor school was quiet as it was lesson time. The tall, black grill gates were shut, and Sarah pressed on the buzzer till someone answered. Roy followed Sarah as she walked in. Melanie and Rizwan came in after them.
The headmaster was waiting in the reception area to meet them. He was in his mid-to-late-forties, tall, with floppy, sandy hair. He wore a sky-blue suit that was well-tailored. He shook hands with Sarah, who showed him her warrant card, and Roy did the same.
“My name is James Ridpath. I’m horrified to hear about this. Please come into my office.”
All four detectives followed Mr Ridpath up the stairs, and into a corridor that housed offices and the teacher’s common room. Mr Ridpath told his secretary to hold all calls, and not to be disturbed. The secretary brought in two extra chairs, and Mr Ridpath shut the door after she left.
The office was spartan, with a large brown desk taking up most of the space. Bookshelves on the right sagged with heavy folders, and the tabletop was clean, with papers neatly stacked to one side, and an open laptop opposite. Framed certificates hung on the wall, along with photos of Mr Ridpath with groups of students.
He sat down and stared at Sarah and Roy with a haunted look in his eyes.
“I can’t believe this. I’ve looked into Emma’s file since I heard, and I’ve also spoken to her form tutor, the one who looks after the children in each year. Everyone is shocked, as you can imagine.”
“Yes, of course,” Roy said. “We want to have a look at Emma’s file as well if you don’t mind. Anything there that stands out?”
Mr Ridpath blinked a couple of times, then his tongue flicked over his lips. “As a matter of fact, there is. Emma was falling behind with her homework. Her form tutor, Miss Eloise, was a little concerned. It wasn’t so bad that she couldn’t catch up, but she needed to focus on schoolwork more.”
“So, it was only the academics she struggled with, and nothing else?”
“As far as I know, yes.”
“Have you spoken to her parents since we got in touch with you?”
Mr Ridpath shook his head. Sarah asked him if Natalie was a single mother, and the headmaster nodded.
“According to our records, yes. We don’t have any contact details of a father.”
Roy looked at his notebook. “Do you know of a Luke Riley? Apparently, he’s Emma’s ex-boyfriend.”
“I don’t know about these things, but I can look up the boy’s name for you. Hold on.” Mr Ridpath did the needful, fingers tapping on the keyboard. Then he stared at the screen for a few seconds.
“Yes, got him here. Year 11, class D. That’s the same class as Emma, actually. He’s in a lesson now. Or meant to be in any case.”
“We want to speak to him. How about Dean Halloharan?”
Mr Ridpath looked again, then nodded. “Yes, he’s here as well. Year 11, class F. How do you know about him?”
“He’s the one who reported the crime, and then identified the body. Two other boys were there as well, Eddie and Travis.”
“Ah yes, of course. Do you have the full names?”
Roy read out their last names, and the headmaster did a search for them, and said they were in the same year, class A.
Sarah took over. “Did Emma have any problems at school? Any bullying, or other issues? There must be a reason why she was falling behind.”
“Often there isn’t, and children are just lazy,” Mr Ridpath smiled at Sarah. Roy looked at his shiny white teeth, and sensed he was trying to charm Sarah. The headmaster looked like a charismatic man, dapper in his smart cut suit. Sarah’s unsmiling, dead serious face made his smile falter, but he maintained the tug on his lips.
“They need some discipline in their lives, and that’s what good teachers are all about. Her form tutor didn’t mention anything untoward.”
“Which only means Emma didn’t say anything,” Sarah said. “Girls her age keep it to themselves. Did Emma do drugs, or was she mixed-up with the wrong crowd?”
Mr Ridpath pressed his lips together and shook his head slowly in silence. The way he clammed-up suddenly was a little suspicious to Roy. He glanced at Sarah, and she didn’t disappoint.
“Many teenagers her age experiment with drugs. Have children been caught in school with possession?”
Mr Ridpath’s square jaws slackened a touch and his forehead cleared. “Teenagers get up to all sorts of stuff,” he said shortly.
That was an admission of a problem, Roy thought.
“Have there been any arrests?” Sarah prodded. Mr Ridpath looked uncomfortable. His eyes darted from Sarah to Roy, who sat still, his eyes boring into Mr Ridpath. Roy thought Mr Ridpath must know they could check the PCNs, or police crime notice any time, by doing a database search against the school. Minors who were arrested had their school details registered.
