CHAPTER 8
Jon and I took more than five hours to get to Carlisle, the journey including a change at Crewe. I had heard that name so many times, including in music-hall songs, and I was expecting something a little better than what we found. A mix of old train carriages sparked some interest as we came in, but the reality was simply a large warehouse affair with a lot of glass in the upper parts. It was well-kept, the correct spot to wait for our reserved places was marked on the platform and there were places to grab a snack, but we had to wait over thirty minutes before our connection, and it dragged. There were a large number of bricks in the wall the other side of the tracks, and I am sure I counted them all.

Eventually, the Virgin train pulled in, and we forced our bags into the luggage rack and settled down for the next leg. We had run out of conversation somewhere between Cardiff and the Upper Crust sandwich place, so I simply plugged my MP3 player ‘s ear buds in and switched on my e-reader. Twenty minutes later, I turned the latter off and closed my eyes. I was getting sick of trains. My dozing brain knew we would be passing Runcorn, but I couldn’t care less.

Jon nudged me awake some time later, and I realised I had been drooling.

“Wossup?”

“Bit more interesting outside now, Di. Think we must be near the Lake District or something”

He must have been right, because the dreary industrial towns that had sent me to dribbly sleep had been replaced by heather and bracken, and it was definitely worth waking for. I spotted a motorway split into two levels. High hills surrounded us, reminding me of times in Snowdonia camping with Dad, and my spirits lifted steadily with the land. It eased after a while, and we came into Penrith, the Pennines lowering over it from the East. It was odd how I felt the Cumbrian hills to be a welcome embrace, almost a hug, while those to the East offered nothing bit a forbidding and bleak wall,

“Di?”

“Yes, mate?”

“According to my GPS there’s a River Eden over there”

“And?”

“That is apparently the one Hamilton went swimming in”

How to destroy the beginnings of a good mood.

“Jonny boy, there’s a catering place, bar, whatever, two cars back. Could you grab me a cold drink? That sandwich, and dozing, yeah? Mouth like god knows what”

While he did the drink run, I sent Deb a text.

Just come Penrith. Staying Ibis

She replied almost immediately.

At Crewe. Bored. Am in Ibis 2. C U there

I sent another message to our Southport victim, but got no immediate reply, so I simply sent another with the time and place of our meeting with Cumbria. I was starting to get nervous by then; thanks, Lon.

It was only a short walk from the station to our hotel, but it was, of course, raining, so after we had checked in I grabbed a shower to wake myself properly and dispose of the grime I always imagined settled on me when travelling by train. I knew it wasn’t real dirt, but I found the whole process draining and, to be honest, I was anticipating being soiled the following day. One interview I would never, ever be in the right frame of mind for.

Jon knocked on my door two hours later, a smiling Deb with him, and she was straight to the point.

“Not going on the piss tonight, is it, but my stomach thinks my throat’s been cut. Food?”

“You not get something on the way?”

“Those prices? Anyway, don’t want to eat that crap. Got refined tastes, me, or I have after earing Gemma’s offerings. There’s a ‘Spoon’s up the road, a couple of Indians and an Italian. Don’t know about you, but I fancy a pizza”

I raised an eyebrow at Jon, making the point that we had done curries to death recently, and he grinned.

“Less farting in the interview tomorrow, then? Pizza will do me fine.”

It was a small place, not that far down the road, and I was just settling down to browse the menu when my phone bleeped for an incoming message.

Peter and I are in Hallmark. Meal? BNC

I sent back our location, and after confirming they were on their way, got the waiter to push another table next to ours. Despite our resolution to stay sober, I still had a large glass of Barolo from the bottle we were now sharing. Peter and Ben were there in just over fifteen minutes, and I made sure I gave them my warmest smile.

“Good to see you both, gentlemen, but I am beginning to hate trains”

Ben took his husband’s hand.

“We, or rather Peter here, drove up. I have had more than a few unpleasant incidents when using public transport, so we try to avoid it. It is delightful to see you both again, too. And your companion? We are Peter and Ben Nicol-Clements”

I looked over to Deb, and saw she was trembling. Idiot that I was. Before I could apologise, she reached out to me, squeezing my hand.

“Yes, love, I know. You should have given me more warning, but that is so you. It’s amusing in a way: you are so, so good at spotting odd little connections, but you sometimes miss the big ones”

She looked across at Jon, drawing a shuddering breath.

“This wasn’t planned, you two, or at least not intentionally, but I think you have done something I have needed to do for years”

She turned her head to smile at the other victim.

“It’s been such a long time, Benny. How are you? Well, I hope?”

He looked puzzled. “We have met?”

“Yes, love. I am Deb. I was Billy. Billy Wells”

Ben’s mouth didn’t seem to work for a while, Peter looking more and more worried, before he could find the words, and with them came slow tears. He waved vaguely at Deb, particularly towards her hair and bosom.

“You made it them, my darling? Oh dear god… Peter… Peter, a bottle, please? Is the Barolo a good one, Diane? No. Don’t answer. Please, Peter”

The waiter saw, and once glasses were filled, Ben, now far more in control of himself, raised his glass to Deb.

“To success, my love. To freedom. To finally burying our demons”

We drank the toast, and then he and Deb rose and hugged. Ben sat down again, wiping away the last of his tears.

“Peter, my love, Billy---Deb here, was another of those sent to that place I mentioned. I do not mean to open old scars again, but all I will say is that while she was… while those who ran the place were rather taken with her, she was never beaten, never lost her spirit. Please, Deb, please tell”

The older woman took his hand. “I could tell it all, love, but it would take all night, and if this goes to trial, you will hear it all anyway. Let me just sum up, OK?”

“Please”

“I got as far as Shrewsbury the last time, and I found somewhere to shelter, a place I could scavenge food”

I felt my anger rising again. Out od bloody dustbins.

“I was injured, as you will remember. I was found. They were good people. I… well, as you can see. I moved my life on, and I now help other young people who need somewhere to escape to. In the process, again as you can see, I have met other good people, and two of the best sit with me, and they will sit with that bastard tomorrow. Now, enough. We have a meal to order, and Jonny boy here needs to tell all about his new best friend. Hello? I do believe we are ready now!”

Aubergines with parmesan, insalata Romana, a couple of bowls of olives and crostini were followed, in my case, by a calzone Vesuvio and a mixed side salad. I had decided that I wasn’t going to worry about farting in front of Cooper.

The conversation was kept well away from Mersey View, but there were still more tears from Ben, as well as a few from Deb, and I noticed Jon frowning slightly as he returned from a visit to the gents’.

“Problem, mate?”

“Could be. Family in the corner there; the bloke asked me if I could get the two old poofs to stop holding hands in front of their kids”

“Oh for fuck’s sake! Think it’ll be an issue?”

“I don’t think so. I may just have shown them my warrant, explained the law and asked if they would really like me to ruin their evening, and most especially in front of their kids, as a positive inclusion lesson appeared to be desirable for the little cherubs. Ah”

“What?”

He waved. “Just pissing off now, Di”

“Any trouble with the management, you think?”

He grinned.

“What, here? When the waiter’s just slipped me a bit of paper with his number on?”

That lifted our mood, and the catch-up between two victims moved from commiseration to celebration. I found Peter Nicol-Clements watching me closely, and as the conversation paused, he held up a hand.

“Ladies and gentlemen! Please. A moment. Ben and I have endured more than a few unpleasantnesses, and I will not shy from saying that many of them were caused, or exacerbated, by the police. It is most heart-warming, finally, to encounter two honest coppers, as the phrase goes. So, may I offer a toast? Decent people, honest coppers!”

We drank, and as he lowered his glass, he grinned at Jon, suspicion evaporated from him in the warmth of Ben and Deb’s reunion.

“So, young man? This new love of yours?”

Jon can really blush.

We were early at the Cumbrian force’s HQ the next day, and as soon as all five of us were assembled in the foyer Liam Weir came out to welcome us all.

“Mr Sedgewick’s come up as well, and we have some other people attending. I wanted to ask if that would be acceptable. If not, we can set up the video feed to separate rooms”

Jon was switched on again.

“Would this by any chance be the family that was mentioned before? The ones who broke the place in Carlisle?”

Weir nodded. “Yes. The Elliotts. I have already spoken to them, and Mr Elliott mad a rather fruity comment about wanting as many people as possible available to dance on Copper’s grave. The family is in one of our smaller conference rooms, where we have set up the link. I’ll take you in. Can you buzz us in, please, Mick?”

It was so, so similar to how our space in Cardiff had been before Elaine had started us pinning up maps and lugging in urns, kettles and flipcharts, except for the large screen mounted on one wall fed from an overhead projector. Six people were waiting for us along with Sedgewick, and I was immediately confused, because while two of them were men, one was too young and the other seemed not to be part of the family at all.

Peter surprised me just then.

“Roger, my dear?”

“Peter? What brings you…Oh! Is this Benny?”

Peter led his husband to the older man and after embracing Roger, turned to Ben.

“Darling, you remember what I said, about my friends from London? This is Roger. Roger, my beloved husband, Ben. I am afraid we were a little precious, and double-barrelled our names. How is Simon?”

Roger’s face fell.

“The dear boy went last year, Peter. I am… well, meet my adopted family, my dears. Three generations of it, no less!”

The oldest of the women, though not by much, blew a huge raspberry.

“Only by adoption, you sod! Let me; he’ll only be silly and take all morning. You two are bobbies, am I right?”

I held out my hand.

“DC Owens and DC Philips. Di and Jon, if you like”

She had a strong local accent. “Sheepshaggers, is it? Stevie and Em here knows all about that place!”

One of the other women smiled broadly, eyes twinkling below dark curls I suspected were not quite natural in colour.

“What Kaz means is that me and my boy here went to college in Bangor, and if I let her witter on, she’ll take even longer than Roger there. I am Emily Elliott, my hubby Stevie, our kids Stevie and Karen, and she’s Karen Dennahy”

Jon perked up.

“Not Brian’s missus?”

Who? He caught my expression.

“I know: it’s not rugby, girl. Assistant coach at Newcastle United. That right, Kaz?”

She nodded, and Emily put a hand out to shush her.

“Let me finish, lass! Brian’s busy today, he says, but I am going to be really blunt here, because I think it’s more of a case of cold feet. So, clearing the air, we know who that bastard in the cells is, and we know why he is there. Why are you all here?”

Sedgewick coughed to attract our attention, I suspect because the Emily woman was starting to get prickly. I was more than a bit confused, though, because she seemed to be referring to the remaining woman as her husband, and she was keeping very quiet. The Super was almost as soft in his own way.

“Mrs Elliott, Cooper worked in other places before Castle Keep. My two colleagues here have identified a number of victims from one of those, and brought two of them to watch their interview. It may lead to a trial, which is why it will be without sound. I am sure you will understand that our intention is to help these other victims to find a little peace in their lives”

The woman Emily had seemed to introduce as her husband looked up at this, speaking for the first time.

“Was it just Charlie you had, wherever it was?”

I shook my head.

“No… sir. They had Donald Renfrew Hamilton as well, but I believe he is no longer with us”

He looked female, but the voice, the manner, even the clothes said very clearly that he wasn’t. There was obviously a long story there, but not now, not today, DC Owens. He looked me directly in the eye for the first time, and I saw nothing but hatred there.

“Don? That fucker rode the wrong tiger, and it ate him”

“Dad!”

It was the youngest of the women, the one called Karen. Her interruption brought a shrug and a hand raised in apology.

“Sorry, pet. They killed Don, but they missed Charlie. If he ever gets out, I won’t”

Jon looked across at me before Sedgewick interrupted to stop anything we might need to be professional about.

“Stevie, Ben here and Deb were both in Don and Charlie’s old place, before they moved up this way. I will not say, I NEED not say, any more. Now, Diane? Jon? Are you set?”

We nodded, and he turned to Liam Weir.

“Time to lay some ghosts, my friend”