Hard Evidence Page 12

  'I wouldn't invest my pension in it, guv.'

  Delaney watched a homeless man who looked about seventy, but who was probably much younger, open his trousers and urinate against the graffiti-stained walls that ran north of the station.

  'Probably not.'

  Jenny Morgan rubbed her untied wrists where the nylon cord had chafed them raw. The woman sat not far from her, sawing lumps of bread from an unsliced loaf. The carving knife was ill designed for the task and the woman swore under her breath as she struggled with it. Jenny glanced sideways at the ladder that led down from the attic and considered making a dash for it. But the woman who called herself her aunt turned, looked up and smiled.

  'It won't be long, we'll be out of here soon.'

  Jenny nodded, swallowing drily.

  'You understand why I had to tie you up earlier?'

  Jenny's mouth twitched, the smile hanging off her lips like a painted grimace.

  'They'll be watching for us. We have to be careful. You understand that?'

  Jenny nodded again. The woman turned back to sawing at the loaf of bread.

  'Angel' had seemed so different when they had spoken on the internet. Carol Parks had warned her, but Jenny knew better. She always knew better. The young girl wrapped her arms around herself, watching the knife in Candy's hand and the mad look dancing in the woman's eyes. And she was scared. Very, very scared.

  Delaney tossed a couple of the letters to one side and handed the one from the bank over to Sally.

  'Get on to them and find us any transactions she's made since she left Holloway.'

  'Boss.'

  Sally walked off and Delaney watched her. She had everything he once had. Youth, ambition, intelligence . . . hope. Something that had died in him a long time ago.

  He left her to it and walked down the stairs to interview room number one. The brothers Morgan had now had time to think things through, and he hoped something might have surfaced through the quagmire of their hillbilly brains. Some memory, a useful detail. Anything that might help them find Jenny before it was too late.

  Jake Morgan had his head down, twisting and turning a napkin, his thick, powerful fingers flexing and tearing the paper. Howard Morgan looked up hopefully as Delaney walked into the room.

  'Is there any news?'

  'We're pursuing some leads.'

  'What sort of leads?'

  'Nothing certain. We're still trying to pinpoint her location.'

  'They're still in London?'

  'We don't know.'

  Jake Morgan threw the paper napkin on the floor and stood up, his massive form dwarfing Delaney.

  'She's not going to hurt her, is she?'

  Delaney kept his voice calm, reassuring. 'Not if we've got anything to do with it.'

  But Jake was not to be so easily mollified. He shook his head, blinking back the tears that were starting in his childlike eyes. 'She hurts people. She likes doing it.'

  Delaney put a hand on his arm, gently. 'Tell me about her, Jake.'

  'She just changed after Ma died, didn't she, Howard?'

  Howard nodded, anger bubbling below the surface of his troubled eyes.

  'And you have no idea where she might be? Where she might have gone? Any friends. Any relatives?'

  'There's no one.' Howard's voice was harsh with pain.

  There was something, though, Delaney thought; was it regret, was it fear? He looked at him trying to read him. Failing. 'You sure you haven't been in contact with her recently, Howard?'

  Howard stood up angrily beside his brother. 'I told you.'

  'You told us a lot of things. Not all of them were true, were they?'

  'She's not my sister. Not any more.'

  'You're still pretty angry with her, Howard, even after all these years?'

  'Wouldn't you be?'

  'She was fourteen years old at the time. She was just a child.'

  Howard Morgan glared angrily back at him. 'She was never a child. She was born evil, that girl. Ma always said that, didn't she, Jake?'

  Jake nodded, his skin reddening as he remembered, his eyes sliding back and forth just like his elder brother's. 'Born evil. That's what she said. And if evil is on the flesh then shall it be burned clean.'

  'Shut up, Jake!' Howard glared angrily across at his brother, who was shaking his head slightly, lost in his own dark thoughts.

  'If the water does not cleanse then the fire shall. And everlasting shall be the pain.'

  Delaney watched as Jake Morgan shivered and his eyes seemed to clear. He looked up at Delaney and smiled incongruously. 'Have you found Jenny, then? Is that why we're here?'

  'No, we haven't found her, Jake. But we need to. So if you have remembered anything at all, anything she might have said to you . . .'

  'Tell her to stay away from the steam.'

  Howard put his arm on his brother's shoulder. 'Don't worry, Jake. She's not going to burn her.'

  'She burned you, though, didn't she?'

  Howard nodded, his eyes narrowing at the memory. 'But Jenny's going to be all right. The police are going to find her.' He looked up at Delaney. Angry, challenging.

  'We'll do our best.'

  'Because if I find Candy first, I'll fucking kill her.'

  Delaney looked into the hard, cold certainty of those eyes and recognised the truth in them. He'd seen that same cold hate many, many times in the eyes of killers who had sat opposite him across that desk or across others in other cities. He'd seen it in rapists, in wife-beaters, in murderers.

  And he'd seen it in his own bloodshot eyes every morning since his wife was killed. If he could stand face to face with her killers they'd see that look and it would be the last thing they ever saw. That much he had promised her cold body.

  A loud crack on the door startled Delaney out of his thoughts and he turned to see DC Cartwright coming into the room. She looked nervous.

  'What is it, Constable?'

  'You'd better come, sir.'

  18.

  Delaney closed the door behind him. Trapping the foul air and the stale thoughts inside. Sally's youthful eyes sparkled with excitement.

  'What have you got?'

  'Candy Morgan, sir.'

  'Go on?'

  'She used a cash machine. Took out five hundred pounds.'

  'When?'

  'About an hour ago.'

  'Could be someone using her card.'

  Sally shook her head. 'We got the bank to check their security footage, it was definitely her.'

  'Where?'

  'King's Cross.'

  'The apple doesn't fall far from the tree, does it?'

  'Doesn't seem to. Stella Trant didn't move too far from Holloway either, did she?'

  'Spitting distance from where Candy Morgan just made a cash withdrawal.'

  'You think Stella lied to us?'

  'I think what Bob Wilkinson would no doubt tell you.'

  'And what's that, sir?'

  'That they're all slags. And slags are born lying and slags die lying. Let's go.'

  Sally reacted a little surprised as Delaney shrugged into his jacket. 'Shouldn't we coordinate this, boss? We don't want to go rushing in and lose her.'

  'She's just drawn out five hundred pounds. What does that tell you, Sally?'

  Sally shrugged.

  'It tells me she's wedged up. She's ready to travel and now she's got the cash to do it.'

  Delaney barrelled through the front door, Sally hurrying behind him.

  Howard Morgan watched through the window as Sally and Delaney hurried towards the car. He could see the purpose in Delaney's long stride and the expectation in Sally Cartwright's nervously excited face. His fist bunched involuntarily and the muscles in his biceps strained, stretching the fabric of his shirt. He turned to his brother. 'Wait here, Jake.'

  'What's going on?'

  'You just wait here.' He fished his car keys out of his overall pocket and hurried after Delaney.

  Delaney's fist landed on Stella's front doo
r like Odin's hammer. Stella opened the door, her wide green eyes startled with fear.

  'What do you want?' Her voice was a nervous stutter, her previous arrogance dissipated in the face of his violent glare.

  Delaney pushed her back into the room and stepped in, Sally following closely behind and shutting the door.

  'What the hell is going on?'

  Delaney ignored her and swept open the bedroom door and looked around. There was no one there. Unless Candy Morgan was hiding in the kitchen cupboard, they had missed her. Maybe by minutes.

  Delaney turned round and glared at Stella Trant, who crossed her thin arms defensively in front of her chest.

  'I told you, I haven't seen her. What the hell are you doing here? You've got no right.'

  Delaney ignored her again, opening the drawers in a small sideboard.

  'Where's your warrant?'

  'Shut it,' Delaney barked at her. He tipped the contents of the drawer on the floor and threw it to one side to smash against the wall.

  'Guv.'

  Delaney flashed Sally a look and she glanced away.

  Stella laughed humourlessly. 'What is this? Good cop, bad cop?'

  Delaney opened the next drawer and smiled at her. 'How would you like to go back to taking your showers communally, Stella? The governor told us you were popular with the bull dykes.'

  Stella shook her head, unfazed. 'I doubt he said any such thing, but I was popular with everybody.' She smiled. 'Including the governor. Why do you think he takes such a special interest in girls like us?'

  Delaney carried on searching through the drawer.

  'Did you think it was just his good heart?' She cupped her crotch with her right hand. 'The truth is, this was just as valuable on the inside as it was on the outside.' She winked at Sally. 'You know what I mean?'

  Delaney tossed the second drawer aside and opened the third. He smiled sourly as he pulled out a small clear plastic bag. 'What have we got here?'

  'That's not mine.'

  'Whose is it? Candy Morgan's?'

  'No.'

  'It's yours, then.'

  Stella shrugged and folded her arms again. 'It's a bit of blow. Which is legal now, isn't it? Nothing you can do about it.'

  'No, it's not legal. And that means it's a violation of your parole.'

  Stella shook her head, rattled now. 'I've done nothing wrong.'

  'Then tell us where she is.'

  Stella didn't answer, but she gave a small, almost imperceptible, nod of the head. Most people wouldn't have seen it, but Delaney played poker; he could tell a giveaway sign when he saw one.

  He turned round and gestured at Sally. 'Wait for me in the car.'

  'Guv?'

  'Just do it, Constable.'

  Sally looked at her boss but didn't argue. She shut the front door behind her as she left and Delaney focused his attention back on Stella Trant. 'We can do this the hard way if you prefer.'

  'Jackie Malone always said you were a halfway decent cop. Maybe she was wrong.'

  Delaney leant forward and slammed his large hand round her throat.

  'Maybe she was.'

  Stella's eyes filled, bright with fear. 'Don't hurt me.'

  'You know anything about Jackie, you tell me now!'

  Stella shook her head. 'I don't know anything. We shared a cell. We talked, that's all.'

  'You talked about me?'

  'She did. I just listened.'

  'And what did she say?'

  'Nothing. Just that she liked you, that's all. I think she had a soft spot for you.'

  'You swear there's nothing else? She didn't tell you anything else?'

  'Like what?'

  Delaney let the question hang and Stella shook her head again. 'She didn't tell me anything else. It was just that, for the sake of sweet Jesus. Girl talk. You know?'

  Delaney released his grip and stepped back. 'Where is she, Stella?'

  Stella rubbed her neck, confused. 'Jackie Malone?'

  'I know where Jackie Malone is. Where's Candy Morgan?'

  Stella sighed and looked up at the ceiling, speaking in a low voice. 'She's upstairs. The owners are away whilst the place is having building work done, and the builders are off on another job.' A small worm of fear squirmed again behind her eyes. 'You can't tell her I told you.'

  Delaney nodded and threw the bag of dope to her. Stella's hand flashed out like a cricketer, caught it and stashed it in her jeans pocket. Then her eyes grew harder. 'You do tell her, of course . . . and I might have to have a word with your colleagues.'

  'What are you talking about?'

  'Who were we just discussing, Cowboy?'

  'Don't call me that.'

  'It's what Jackie called you, isn't it? How would your bosses feel if I told them what I know? About her? About you?'

  Delaney just looked at her without responding.

  Stella smiled suddenly, putting more than a hint of invitation into it. 'That's all right, Cowboy, I was only messing. I don't talk to the filth.' She winked. 'I can talk pretty filthy, mind, and I could whisper in your ear some night if you wanted.'

  Delaney opened her front door and looked back at her. 'I'll be seeing you again, Stella. Don't be making any calls on your mobile.'

  19.

  Delaney came out of the house, his face impassive. Sally stepped over to him. 'Everything all right, sir?'

  Delaney took her arm and steered her none too gently towards his car. He stared straight ahead as he spoke. 'Don't look at the house. Just get in the motor.'

  They both got into the car. Delaney pulled out his mobile and called Bonner. He updated him, told him to put the wheels in motion and hung up.

  'We wait here?'

  'You wait here. I'm going up.'

  'You can't, boss.'

  Delaney shook his head. 'Stella may have phoned her. She might be spooked. I'm not taking the chance that she might hurt the girl before we get there.'

  'The girl might already be dead, guv.'

  'Then I'm not going to let her get away.'

  'I'm coming with you.'

  'You're not. You're going to stay here and wait for back-up.'

  'You can't go in on your own. She's dangerous.'

  'I can't waste time arguing about this, Sally.'

  'Let's go then.'

  Delaney sighed and opened his car door. He hurried back to the house with Sally close on his heels. The door to the upstairs flat was next to Stella Trant's. Delaney pulled a small pick out of his pocket and smiled sideways at Sally. 'You didn't see this.'

  He twisted the pick and the lock clicked open. He opened the door gently just as Howard Morgan came charging up the street towards them.

  'Is she in there? Is my Jenny in there?'

  Delaney cursed. 'Jesus Christ on a fucking bicycle. Keep him down here, Sally.'

  'Sir, I . . .'

  'Just do it.'

  Delaney hurled the door back – there was no point in stealth now – and ran up the stairs to the first floor. It was deserted and completely barren. He moved from one room to the next. The place had been stripped back to bare wood and the walls were ready for renovation. The floorboards were rotten in places and evidence of water damage was everywhere. No wonder the owners had moved out whilst the builders were in. The place was a death trap.

  Delaney moved back into the corridor and walked slowly towards the back of the house.

  'Candy, if you're here, we don't mean you any harm. We just want to know that Jenny is all right.'

  He listened, but there was no response. 'Talk to me, Candy. Everything can be sorted out. It's not too late.'

  He heard something, a rustle, a movement, and edged towards the room at the end of the corridor. The faded green door was closed and Delaney was sure he heard something behind it.

  'I'm coming in, Candy. Don't do anything stupid.'

  Outside, the sounds of police sirens and screeching tyres signalled the arrival of at least one car.

  Delaney took a breath and opene
d the door. Stepping quickly into the room, he pulled the door shut behind him.

  Into darkness. The windows had been boarded over and he squinted in the gloom. His eyes, used to the white glare of the sun, needed time to adjust.

  As he walked slowly into the room, he could see a woman climbing quickly up a set of steps that descended from a loft hatch in the ceiling. Delaney charged after her. She cleared the ladder and tried to pull it up. Delaney tugged it down, holding it firm as she disappeared into the darkness above. 'Don't do anything foolish, Candy. My name is Jack Delaney. I'm here to help.' He took a step on the ladder and paused. 'We just want to know she's all right.'

  He took another tentative step up, and then another, raising his head into the loft space above. His eyes had adjusted now as he scanned the space, ready to duck below. His heart was racing but no sign showed in his impassive face. 'It's okay, Candy. We're not here to hurt you.'

  Candy sat in the corner of the room, one arm wrapped around Jenny, the other holding the carving knife forward. Jenny looked at Delaney, her eyes round with fear. Behind them on the floor were a couple of sleeping bags, some bottles of water, a blanket, a child's comic, a half-eaten loaf of bread. Dangling from the rafter was a blue rope.

  Candy spoke, her voice a low rasp. 'How can I trust you?'

  Delaney recognised the panic in her voice and wasn't reassured by it. Frightened people did stupid things. The impulse to self-protect could be the most destructive force on the planet, and Delaney knew that better than anyone.

  'We're the police. We're just here to make sure that Jenny is safe. Look.' He held out his warrant card. 'Are you okay, Jenny?'

  'Yes.' Her voice was tremulous, unconvincing.

  'She hasn't hurt you?'

  'She's my aunt. She wouldn't hurt me, she's looking after me.'

  'Are you going to put the knife down, Candy?'

  Candy shook her head, her knuckles paling as she tightened her grip on the knife. 'I was only looking after her.'

  Delaney sighed. She wasn't going to make this easy for any of them. He edged closer, smiling reassuringly at the huddled, frightened little girl. 'It's okay, Jenny. There's nothing to be scared of.'

  He walked forward some more, his foot slipping a little, and a large section of plasterboard and ceiling fell into the room below. Candy moved instinctively back.