CRUEL SECRETS Page 12

  Dressed in a black suit with an oversized black hat, Lippy stood in the kitchen doorway. Kelly was surprised to see her in anything other than hot pants, a dressing gown, or one of her fancy dresses.

  “Right, lickle sweet pea, me off to say goodbye to me matie, Massie, God rest her soul.”

  “Krystal knows me real name, Lippy,” said Kelly, looking to the floor.

  Lippy sat on the chair opposite. “Listen, chil’, don’t you worry. That woman won’t say a word, if she knows what’s good for her. Rudy will kick her into touch.”

  But it wasn’t so much what Krystal had said – it was how she had said it that rattled Kelly.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Over the next six months, the tension in the house was noticed by everyone. Kelly tended to hang around in her room, and the boys stayed out later than they normally would. Krystal was making herself right at home and every chance she had she would sneer at Kelly. Rudy was as Lippy had said – blinded by the need to shag Krystal, which, needless to say, was often.

  Friday morning, Kelly was up and dressed. Krystal had gone on another shopping spree with Rudy, Ditto and Reggie were visiting their mother, and Phoenix and Solly were on a delivery. She wandered into the kitchen and found the stove cold. Lippy must be out too. She poured the dog biscuits into a bowl and called Legend. He came bounding down the hallway and skidded to a stop to plunge his nose down into his breakfast. Then, there was the sound of heavy banging. Kelly left Legend to finish his food; she hurried along the hallway, assuming Ditto had forgotten his keys, as he often did.

  She didn’t think to look first, before she pulled open the door. There, in front of her, stood four armed officers. This was serious. She heard Legend bark at the back door and then realised they had surrounded the house. Her stomach did a back flip and her mouth immediately went dry. She looked from one copper to the next. The fourth one, a woman, stepped forward. “Kelly Raven!” She wasn’t asking, she was telling.

  How could she escape? Kelly was frozen to the spot, her mind in a complete turmoil. She shook her head. “No Kelly lives here!” was all she could say. The female officer snorted and nodded. “Yeah sure, Kelly, you are under arrest.”

  “Like I said, I ain’t Kelly, ya got the wrong person, sorry.” She turned to close the door in the WPC’s face, but a burly male officer stuck his foot in the door and grabbed her arm.

  “Kelly Raven, you are under arrest.” They handcuffed her in a matter of seconds. Completely in shock, she didn’t hear the rest of the caution. Her heart was pounding against her chest and she swooned. An officer lifted her up and walked her down the concrete steps. He pushed her head down to ease her in the car. The WPO then said, “I am Officer Farmer, and I will be taking you to the station. Do you understand what is going on here, Kelly?” The immediate shock had worn off. It wasn’t worth denying who she was. If the police were sure, then they probably had a good reason. She stared ahead, as the car drove through Peckham. For a second, she thought she saw Keffa about to pull out of a junction.

  “Kelly, when we get to the station, you can make a call, okay?” Farmer was being motherly.

  Jayne Farmer was assigned to the hunt. They were after a kid wanted for a double murder: Patrick Mahoney and her own mother. Jayne tended to be given these domestic cases only because she was good at these and could normally coax people around. But on this occasion, they weren’t sure what they were walking into. They had nothing to go on except that Kelly was an exceptional student who lived alone with her mother and occasionally visited her aunt. There was no history of drugs, no alcohol misuse, no ASBOs, and no deviation from conformity.

  Her disappearance had had them all flummoxed. They’d assumed that maybe she had killed herself and they would one day find a body. The photo of her face on the news for more than a week had turned up no witnesses either. They were lucky to receive the phone call with the address and description. Assuming Kelly was alive, and she was probably a very troubled kid, two murders within a few weeks of each other would have taken some careful planning. The brutal murder of her mother was particularly nasty: she had received a stab wound to the face and throat.

  Kelly remained silent and stared at the road ahead. She didn’t move or even acknowledge the officer. Then, everything began to run through her mind. She was part of a family she loved and felt at home with, happy and safe, and now it was all being taken away from her. A tear pricked her eyelid and fell down her cheek. Jayne observed the girl’s blank expression and the tear.

  The police car pulled into a back entrance to the station. They helped her out but guarded her, as if she was some kind of serial killer. Two officers held her arms and guided her inside the building. She felt as though she was walking into the lion’s den. For almost two and a half years now, she had lived in a world where the police were the enemy. She had listened to the boys telling her their stories of how they had been mistreated; they had been thrown over cars, handcuffed, kicked, and punched. Kelly was waiting for the same brutal treatment, assuming this would be the case. Every door was made of chunky metal and each bang, as it closed, made her jump. They marched her along a corridor to the main desk where she was presented to the custody sergeant who seemed cold and expressionless. He looked up, stared at Kelly, and then he returned his eyes to some paperwork. The atmosphere was tense; after all, they had no idea how to treat her. She was fifteen when she had allegedly murdered Patrick, almost sixteen, in fact, and yet she was now a mature-looking woman with a past about which they had no idea. For all they knew, she could have carried out more atrocities.

  Jayne went through Kelly’s pockets and removed a bunch of keys and two hundred pounds. That was all she had on her, not even her mobile phone. She placed them in the plastic bags. After a few questions, to which Kelly nodded, she was escorted to a holding cell. The thought of being locked up terrified her and she began to shake. She tried to push away, as they opened the door, but the two officers didn’t need to struggle with her and pushed her inside. Jayne went in with her.

  “Kelly, you have to take off your boots and belt, but you can keep on your jeans and shirt.”

  Kelly didn’t argue, as she sat on the blue plastic mattress; she slowly removed her things and handed them to the officer. The anxiety at being shut in the room was overwhelming, and yet before she could blink, Jayne left and locked the door.

  To protect herself, she closed her eyes and covered her face with her hands. She concentrated on her breathing and felt the warmth of the room and the comfort of the bed. It wasn’t the shed, it wasn’t winter, and she wasn’t surrounded by insects. She tried to imagine Lippy’s round shiny face with her big expressive eyes and her voice telling her it would be all right. She was strong. Breathe, Kelly, breathe.

  Jayne looked in through the small glass window. Kelly was sitting in the same spot an hour later, with the paperwork now all in place. They had to follow protocol. “No fuck ups,” the Commissioner had told them, and he had been very clear to his officers about this.

  DI Maddox had lost it when the girl had slipped off their radar, following a double killing and this fifteen-year-old on the run. She had made them look like complete imbeciles. He was called into the station and was livid. The timing of this arrest was unfortunate, to say the least. He was about to set off on his holiday with his new bit of skirt.

  Jayne heard him stomping along the corridor, long before he entered the custody suite. The door was almost thrown open, and there, with an angry expression and cloaked in arrogance, stood DI Maddox. A lump of a man, tall and stocky, wearing a dark-green blazer and black trousers underneath his trench coat, he was a class-one bastard. The outfit was not really to his taste, but Hillary, his new tart, had bought it in the sales and insisted he wore it. He liked his weekend shags and keeping her sweet guaranteed his oats.

  “Where is she?” He never spoke quietly and always seemed to talk with such a fierceness in his voice. Maybe that was what Hillary found attractive. Jayne found it odd that he
could pull a bird as pretty as she was, when he was so mean-looking with piercing amber eyes. His hair was a thick mop of auburn locks and it flopped in all directions.

  “All right, Gov, she’s in there.” Jayne pointed to the first cell. Without a please or thank you, Maddox marched over and glared through the glass at the petite-framed teenager perched on the edge of the bed.

  He took a deep breath. “Right, take her into the interview room.”

  There was no finesse and no warm twinkle in his eyes, yet for some reason everyone respected him. Jayne didn’t. She couldn’t stand the vain man, but she still acted politely and jumped to attention. It was that niggling doubt that Maddox was as bent as a nine bob note because he drove expensive cars, wore top-of-the-range watches, and holidayed in the Caribbean twice a year. But how could he on the Met’s police pay?

  She unlocked the door and was surprised that Kelly didn’t jump to her feet; she was still hiding her face in her hands.

  “Stand up, Kelly!” she commanded in her firm but gentle voice.

  Kelly removed her hands from her face and slowly got to her feet.

  She was taken to the interview room where DI Maddox was already reading the arrest notes. Kelly was asked to take a seat.

  “Kelly Raven!” barked Maddox.

  She remained with her head down, not caring what the man said or did. She was going down, that was for sure, and she wanted it over and done with as soon as possible.

  “I am Detective Inspector Maddox.”

  There was no response; Kelly didn’t even raise her head or reply.

  “Kelly, have you been read your rights?” He knew she had.

  The room was brightly lit, and there was just the one table and four chairs, but it had that sterile, almost clinical appearance.

  Maddox stood up and opened the door. He called out, “Will someone fetch two teas? I am fucking parched in here!”

  Jayne hurried to the drinks machine and fumbled with the thin plastic cups; the hot liquid was burning her hands and she cursed under her breath. “Fucking smug prick.” Once she had returned with the two teas, she slid one under Maddox’s nose and carefully placed the other in front of Kelly. She gave the young girl a sympathetic smile.

  “Listen, Kelly, we can get this over with quickly or drag it out for hours. I will get pretty fucked off and you will have a numb arse. The choice is yours,” growled Maddox.

  Kelly wanted to laugh, but as she looked up, a sadness flickered across her face. Maddox then saw her innocent eyes; she wasn’t a hard-looking teenager, and she didn’t have the attitude, like her father. She was just a kid with a soft glow and a pretty face. He mellowed his tone accordingly. “Kelly, you can make a call, let someone know you’re here. Do you want representation, a brief, a family member?”

  Kelly shook her head. “Mr Maddox, I don’t want to call anyone. There’s no need, and as for a lawyer, I don’t need one of them either.”

  “What about your father?” No sooner were the words out of his mouth, he gritted his back teeth and wished he had kept quiet. Eddie had told him, if he found the girl, he was to call him, as he wanted to have a word himself.

  With a deep frown, Kelly shook her head. She brushed the thought aside, assuming the detective was unaware of her situation regarding not knowing her father, and he wouldn’t refer to her mother because she was dead.

  Maddox sat back on his chair and stared for a while. He was concerned because she wasn’t behaving as a normal person would.

  “Kelly, ya know you’re in a lot of trouble, right?”

  “Yeah, I know I am, so what’s the point in lawyers and shit. Just get it over with.”

  Maddox left the table again and called for Jayne. “Call the duty solicitor, will you? She said she don’t want a brief.”

  Jayne frowned. “Well, she needs one, that’s for sure.”

  Maddox rubbed his bristly chin. “Yeah, well, it’s her fucking right, I ain’t pushing it. She can have the duty brief … but call social services.”

  Jayne noticed how easily he had dismissed the idea of having her own solicitor. Had she been in his role, she would have explained the importance; after all, Kelly was still a child in the eyes of the law. She was under eighteen and still classed as a minor.

  Within half an hour, the duty solicitor and a woman called Nancy, from the social services, arrived. Maddox looked at Nancy, the assigned adult for Kelly, up and down and then rolled his eyes. He was pissed off with these young wet-behind-the-ears do-gooders. “How old are you?” he glowered.

  Nancy gave him an unappreciative glare. “Old enough to know my job and old enough to know yours. So, where is the child?”

  Grinding his back teeth, Maddox pointed to the interview room. Nancy looked the consummate professional in her high heels and pencil skirt, as she edged around him holding a leather briefcase in her hand. Jayne smiled. That told him.

  John Kirby was the duty solicitor, eager to work his way up the career ladder, and therefore always on hand. Any overtime to be had, he was all over it, like a rash. Jobsworth Johnnie they called him at the station, behind his back of course.

  The three reconvened in the interview room. Nancy introduced herself to Kelly in a soft, gentle voice, whilst John sat the other side, unable to speak until his potential client gave him instructions.

  Kelly looked at the three pairs of eyes.

  “My name is Nancy Sterring. I have been informed that you do not have a guardian or anyone for that matter to be present.”

  Maddox stared at Kelly, trying to guess what she was thinking. Nancy was too prim and proper – there was nothing warm about her, and it was his guess that Kelly wouldn’t open up to her. He then looked at Johnnie, who looked like an estate agent, with his eager eyes and quick moves.

  “John is the duty solicitor. I know you have the right not to have a brief but it’s a good idea to. If you want some time alone, I can leave you with these two,” stated Maddox.

  Kelly shook her head. “Look, Mr Maddox, please can we just get this over with?”

  With a raised eyebrow, he nodded for John to leave.

  “Kelly, do you know what you have been arrested for?”

  She casually nodded.

  “Can you please tell me in your own words what you understand you have been arrested for?” asked Maddox in a kinder tone, for the benefit of Nancy.

  Without hesitation, Kelly replied, “For killing Patrick what’s-his-fucking-name.”

  There was silence, as Maddox waited to see if she would add the killing of her mother.

  He leaned forward. “Did the officer read you your rights and say what you were arrested for?”

  She couldn’t remember and shrugged her shoulders.

  He opened the brown file in front of him and turned the papers around for Nancy to be able to read them.

  “I think you need to explain what’s going on.”

  Nancy snatched the papers and read the first paragraph. She reread the arrest sheet and turned to face Kelly.

  DI Maddox and John waited outside the interview room to allow the social worker to explain the situation. “That girl in there is one complete nut job. I want her in court first thing and out of this station. The duty officer at the court can take over … For fuck’s sake, this is all I need, missing that damn plane.”

  John wasn’t interested in Maddox’s moaning; he was adding up the pound signs.

  Nancy gave Kelly a fake sympathetic smile, as if to say, ‘You poor child, you have no idea that you may go away for a huge chunk of your sad, pathetic life’.

  “Kelly, they have arrested you, my dear, for two murders. The first is Patrick Mahoney and also, sweetheart, for the murder of your mother.”

  Kelly snapped out of her stupor. She frowned and curled her lip. “What? I never killed me mum. I only killed Patrick.”

  That was a smack in the mouth. Nancy had never expected her to admit she had actually killed anyone. “You know you have the right not to say anything and to
let a solicitor advise you, and, sweetie, I think that’s really your best option. Now are you okay, pumpkin?”

  As if someone had jabbed her in the ribs, Kelly sat up straight, now annoyed. She hated pretentious and condescending people. “I know you mean well, but I ain’t no sweetie, or bleedin’ pumpkin for that matter. I didn’t kill me muvver but I did kill Patrick. Do I understand what’s happening? ’Course I bloody do. I ain’t a fool you know, and I ain’t five either.”

  Nancy was shocked and put out by the outburst. She stood up and opened the door for Maddox to join them. “She understands fully, so you can carry on.” Maddox sensed she’d been given an unsympathetic rejection in there by Kelly. Nancy flicked her perfectly shaped bob and straightened her dark-rimmed glasses. Maddox looked at her neat arse, defined in her slim-fitting skirt, and decided she may be a good shag, and she probably needed one to loosen the starchy look on her face.

  Kelly’s whole demeanour had changed and she was ready to talk. Her fears were still there but her confidence had now returned.

  After two hours of questioning, Maddox had everything he needed to hand the paperwork over to the CPS and secure two charges of first-degree murder. It was a cakewalk.

  She was held in the juvenile holding room until the court appearance the next day. Jayne was on duty and in charge of the custody suite. Kelly was moved to another room, much like the cell, yet it was more comfortable. She felt less anxious and lay on her bed trying to sleep. She would miss her family, but she guessed this would have happened one day; she had just hoped that it would not have been so soon.

  Concerned, Jayne popped her head inside the room every hour to check on the girl. She bought some food from the canteen and a magazine. Kelly smiled gratefully.

  “Are you all right, Kelly? Do you need anything?”

  Kelly smiled. “I’m fine. Thank you for being so kind. I thought it would be worse, ya know, locked in a dark room with bars up at the window and a dirty-smelling bed.”