7. The Discussion

DI Rosen and DS Vega have it out, and Vega goes in search of Sam.

7

‘What’s happened?’ Jodie was stood in the archway which led through to the kitchenette, a teaspoon in her hand which was suddenly trembling. She hadn’t heard what was said but she had seen the expression on the lady cop’s face. ‘Something’s happened, or they wouldn’t have sent you lot, you plain-clothed. If you know something then just spit it out already!’ 
     Vega looked to Rosen, ready to follow her lead. Rosen’s eyes were unfocussed and exhausted. God only knew what time she’d been on from. 
     ‘Early this morning we recovered a body,’ Vega said. ‘I’m sorry, Ms Groves, but we believe we’ve found your son.’ 
     Jodie dropped the spoon as his words penetrated. ‘You think it was Sam, don’t you?’ she said breathlessly. ‘You do, don’t you? Oh god, you think it was Sam!’
     ‘We don’t know who hurt Deano, but we will find out.’
     ‘So he’s just hurt? He’s not…?’
     ‘I’m afraid he’s dead, yes.’

     Jodie gave a low, primal groan which broke into breathless sobs. Unable to watch her cry alone, Vega stepped forward and put his arms tight around her, tucking her under his chin like she was a child.
     ‘I don’t understand what you’re saying,’ she managed to gasp. ‘I don’t understand!’ 
     ‘We’re very sorry for your loss,’ Rosen murmured. ‘A team of specially trained officers will be with you shortly to help you through the next few hours.’
    ‘The next few hours?’ Jodie’s wide glassy eyes turned on Rosen. ‘This isn’t going to get better in the next few hours!’
     ‘Of course not. I didn’t mean…’ Rosen trailed off. She took her phone out of her pocket and seemed to check it. ‘I’m terribly sorry, Jodie, there’s somewhere else I need to be. Please, rest assured that we will find out how this happened to your son.’ 
    Vega watched her head to the door, Jodie still gripping his sleeve like he was the only thing keeping her tethered to the world. He shook his head at Rosen and the look of apology that flashed across her face told him that there had been no urgent request for her presence. The ugly side of the job, he’d called it earlier. Sitting with the bereaved was harder than sitting with their dead.
     ‘The Family Liaison Officers will be here soon,’ Rosen promised him more than Jodie. ‘I’m sorry.’ 
      ‘If you’ve got to go then go. We’ll be fine,’ Vega said as he led Jodie back to the sofa. The two uniformed officers were still stood in the corner, their hands clasped behind themselves. ‘I’ll get a lift back.’ 
     Rosen nodded once and then she left.
     ‘Jodie, when was the last time you spoke with Sam? You’ve spoken to him since you dropped Deano off at his club on Wednesday, haven’t you?’ Vega prompted. Jodie sat gripping her knees, eyes fixed ahead. 
      ‘Every time we talked on the phone we rowed, so we sent texts.’
     ‘I’d like to read them. That all right with you?’
     Jodie stood again, crossed the room, and retrieved her phone from where it had been charging in the kitchen. Vega took it from her and scrolled through the couple’s last correspondence. 
      ‘So he sent his last text to you Saturday morning? And he was supposed to drop Deano off Saturday evening?’
      ‘Afternoon,’ Jodie said distantly. ‘I kept texting him, I kept calling but his phone was off. That’s not like Sam.’ 
      ‘I’m going to need to take your phone, is that OK with you Jodie?’
     She nodded mutely. He pocketed it. 
     ‘Where did they find Deano?’
     ‘In woodland.’ 
     ‘He liked woods,’ Jodie murmured. ‘He always wanted to be outdoors. He was like a little wild child, sometimes. He’d build himself a camp and stay there overnight, if you let him.’
     ‘Jodie, where’s Reese?’
     Jodie’s eyes flicked to him briefly and then lost their focus again. ‘I don’t know.’
     ‘He doesn’t live with you?’
     ‘No. Reese is �" Reese has had problems. We tried to help. He left, a few weeks ago. I don’t have a number for him anymore.’ She rubbed her knuckles gently against her cheek, like she was trying to self-soothe. ‘I’m going to have to tell him, aren’t I? That his brother’s dead.’
      ‘I can tell him for you, if it’s easier. Of course, we’ll have to find him first. No idea where he’d be?’ 
      ‘No.’ Jodie began to cry again, quietly, into her palms. Vega put his arm about her and they sat there together in silence until the bell rang again and the FLOs took over. 

The patrol car dropped him back at Dowding House, by way of McDonald’s. Vega ordered two quarter-pounder cheese meals and built one burger out of the two, flicking the gherkins out of the patrol car’s window and sucking on his greasy fingers. He caught the police sergeant watching him and offered one of the packets of chips. 
     ‘Help yourself.’
     The offer wasn’t taken up, and Vega shrugged dismissively and tucked in.
     Every desk in the Major Incident Suite was in use when he arrived, the phones ringing almost as soon as they were returned to their cradles. Vega sought out Rosen first, dropping his rubbish in the bin beside Khan who shot him a dirty look.
     ‘Not had lunch yet, Zaid?’ Vega guessed. ‘Shame.’ 
     DI Rosen was at the far end of the suite, sat at a desk which was not her own and speaking on the phone. She hurriedly ended the call when she spotted him closing in on her. 
     ‘How was Jodie?’
     ‘How do you think?’ Vega shifted his weight and felt the knots grind in his shoulders. ‘Look, Dar…Is there somewhere we can talk?’ 
      Rosen hesitated a moment before getting to her feet. She led him out of the Major Incident Suite and down into the foyer, with its static-sparking blue carpet and high ceilings around which the original cornicing had eroded. 
     ‘Will here do?’

     Vega shook his head, looking to the civilian workers stood chattering around the vending machine. He led her down a second, narrow stairwell which took them into the basement, their footsteps rebounding off the walls and Rosen’s impatient exhale of breath amplified. 
     The interview rooms were windowless spaces which smelt of damp and brick dust. The stone walls had been painted grey, the uneven floors poorly laid over the century old foundations. A security camera sat like a squat spider in the corner, pointed at the table and the four chairs set around it.
     Neither of the detectives sat. They instead stood facing each other, waiting for the other to start.
     ‘You want to tell me what happened back there?’ Vega asked, his voice exaggerated by the acoustics of the room; a deliberate design. This room shrank people, even hardened cons. A few minutes in here was enough for most. They started talking. Not Rosen, though. She patted at her hair and said nothing. Vega nodded.
     ‘No, of course you bloody don’t. You don’t do talking, do you? Not when it’s so much easier to just walk out on the problem.’
      ‘As opposed to threatening it? Shouting at it?’ she snapped back. ‘Bullying it away?’
     ‘Is that what you think I do? That’s not fair, Daria. That’s not even close to fair!’
     ‘No, you know what isn’t fair? Bringing this to me now, where we work. I asked you at the outset if you could handle working under me �"’
     ‘Now hang on a minute!’ 
     ‘�"And you told me that you could. That you were a professional.’
     ‘I AM, DARIA! I am, and a damn sight more professional than you are. Walking out on me is one thing but walking out on a grieving mother?’

     There was a knock on the door. Rosen had opened it even as he reached out to stop her. DC Khan was stood there, grinning. ‘Sorry to interrupt your “discussion”, but Fiona what’s-her-face, the Press Officer, she’s chasing me up. The media want a statement, like, now.’
     ‘All right,’ Rosen said, straightening her jacket and raking her fingers through her hair again in an effort to flatten it. ‘I’ll speak with them. Vega, take Zaid and see if you can locate Sam Stowe. As of now he’s a person of interest.’
     ‘And you’ll be telling the press that much, will you?’ 
     ‘Not yet, no, but I’ll ask him to make contact.’
     ‘What about Reese?’
     ‘Exactly, what about Reese?’ she said as she exited. Vega felt his nails digging into his palms and realised his fists were clenched. He stretched his fingers and took a seat briefly at the table. 
     ‘Trouble in paradise?’ the DC asked, the same inane grin on his face.
     ‘Don’t know about paradise,’ Vega muttered. ‘More like the seventh circle.’ 
     ‘Who’s this Reese?’ 
     ‘Brother of the deceased. I interviewed him six years ago in regards to the death of Tom Healy. A connection we’re not pursuing, apparently.’ He wiped at his face and got grudgingly to his feet again. The night of lost sleep was beginning to catch up with him, and his hurried lunch was starting to roil in his stomach. He had an emergency stash of antacids in the car. ‘Come on then, let’s go see if we can track down Deano’s dear old dad.’
     ‘Where should we start?’
     ‘Oh, I don’t know. Let’s try his last known address, eh? Maybe he’ll make things easy on us.’
     They went around the back, since Rosen was holding court at the front. Even so they could hear the clamour of the journalists. It would be more than just the local rags, he’d wager. They might even get the BBC down, a nasty homicide like this one, especially if the parallels between Deano’s death and Tom’s were leaked.
     During the investigation into Tom’s death some enterprising soul had set up a snack wagon outside headquarters, until Bishop had threatened to torch it with the vendor inside.
     Vega opened the passenger door for Khan. ‘In you get, princess.’
      ‘Nice car,’ the DC admitted as he slithered into the bucketed leather seat. ‘Five litre V8, right?’
     ‘Right.’
     ‘How many horses?’
     ‘Four hundred.’
     ‘Not the sort of ride I’d expect a priest to have.’
     ‘I’m not a priest though, am I?’ Vega said as he pulled towards the automatic gates. He could feel his pulse begin to flutter in his neck again. Who had Zaid been talking to? He batted the DC’s hand away when Khan smoothed his palm over the dash and began to fiddle with the heating. 
     ‘No, but you were a priest, weren’t you? Years ago? Did you have a church and everything?’
     ‘Not exactly. I was a Padre.’
     ‘A what?’
     ‘An army chaplain.’ 
     ‘That’s cool. See any action?’
     ‘Chaplains are non-combatants.’ 
     Khan flipped down the sun visor and checked his teeth; he bleached them, Vega was convinced of it, no smoker’s whites were that pearly. ‘So if you joined the police later in life, is that why you’re only a detective sergeant even though you’re, what, fifty?’
      ‘Fifty?! F*****g hell…’
      ‘Sorry. However old you are. Why did you leave the church?’ Khan held up his hands. ‘I’m just curious.’
     ‘Because they asked me to. Why do you shave your head, Zaid? Balding already, are we?’
      That shut the little beggar up.

There was a Sale Agreed sign outside the Stowe’s family home; a five bed detached on the fringes of Horsmonden. The property was newly built, red brick and half-hung with tiles. It was behind a wall and a pretentious pair of gold-topped gates, which weren’t about to open. 
     Vega parked up on the grass verge, as far off the road as he could get, and hefted himself over the wall. Khan dropped down after him and immediately began to dust off his absurdly shiny Top Man suit. 
     ‘Not bad, for a geriatric,’ he grinned at Vega.
     ‘Not bad for a tart. Come on, let’s see if anybody’s home.’ 
     It certainly didn’t appear as if there was. A quick look through the windows showed rooms devoid of anything other than boxes and a few dust-sheet draped pieces of furniture.
     ‘Looks like we’ve missed him. Didn’t uniform try to get hold of him already?’
     ‘Yeah, and they came to the same conclusion you have,’ Vega said, taking a few paces back onto the overgrown lawn and peering up at the first floor windows.
     ‘So this Sam Stowe bloke, is he the one who went bankrupt recently? The builder?’
     ‘He wasn’t just a builder, son. He started up a construction company, employed some two hundred people. Crooked as anything of course, but he’s from pikey stock so what can you expect?’ Vega circled around the back, and paused at a tarpaulin covered vehicle. He lifted the edge, looked under, and then dragged it off. It was a silver Range Rover, 2011 plate. ‘How much do you reckon this cost new?’
     ‘Fifty grand, easy.’
     ‘Hmm.’ Vega gave it a good kick. The scream of the alarm shattered the still air and a murder of crows took off from the oak which cast its shadow over the house. Khan covered his ears, eyes wide.
     ‘What the hell did you do that for?!’ 
     Vega pointed one thick finger at the upper floor window, where the closed curtains twitched. A face, gaunt and unshaven, appeared only briefly before the curtain fell back again. 
     ‘That wasn’t Sam Stowe. Way too young.’
     ‘No,’ Vega said. ‘I’d put my money on that being the itinerant Reese.’

 

Author's Note

All constructive criticism gratefully received.

Reviews

[NoelHC]

Another good chapter, well expounded, however for the first time since I began reading this tale, I am a bit confused.
The previous chapter ended:

‘You know what, Jodie? I think I will have that cup of tea,’ she smiled. Jodie nodded uncertainly and went to make it. Rosen waited for the roar of the kettle before she beckoned Vega closer. ‘What? What is it?’.......................

And this one began:
The wail that came out of Jodie was like nothing he’d ever heard before. It began as a low, primal groan that built into a shriek. It sent shivers sweeping across his skin. Rosen had taken a step back.

Did I miss something? I don't see where the police told Jodie that her son was dead. She was at the kettle, and then suddenly slumped against his chest.

It isn't like you to miss important details, or to skip around chronologically. I will admit I am tired, and have been staring at a computer screen all day, so I may be just dense today.

[SLD Bailey]

Haha I know the feeling; I was ready someone's poem the other day and got completely confused by it...thought I was going (even more) insane until I realised I'd been switching between tabs and had been reading two entirely different poems. D'oh!
In this instance though I think you may have a point. I had wanted to gloss over them actually breaking the news as it seemed a little unnecessary, but the transition between chapters was clumsy. I've edited the first line now to include "when they broke the news" which is a bit of a bodge fix but I think it suffices :P
Thanks, as ever, for reading and reviewing :)

[NoelHC]

"Bodge fix", well that took me back to my days in the UK. : )
That should suffice for now. I am thinking to open this chapter Jodie could be at the kettle, and move this line into the first paragraph. " ‘You think it was Sam, don’t you?’ Jodie said breathlessly. ‘You do, don’t you? Oh god, you think it was Sam!’" Vega could walk over to her, and she could then slump against Vega's chest. It would tie up loose ends, in my mind. Can't have loose ends in a police procedural, now, can we?
Other than those ones needed for the gotcha in the solution, of course.
I am enjoying this tale a great deal, just this bit tripped me up.

[SLD Bailey]

Actually, that's not a half bad idea!! I'll edit it like that when my poor English brain recovers from all this wretched sun it's been exposed to today. Roll on, winter! I'm really glad you're enjoying the story, though :) I'm attending the Festival of Writing this September, a big thing laid on primarily by a writer's group, and I'll be pitching to a couple of agents so I'd like it to be as polished as it can be. Your comments are going a long way towards helping me to do that, so thank you.

[NoelHC]

I see Jodie as a smart, tough lady, maybe knocked about by life a bit, but by no means brainless. I think this could add to her intuitive aspect of her character.
Wow, good luck at the festival. I think you will find a market for this book, as it is a good story.
And bite your tongue wishing for winter! We had a very long one here, and a cool, damp spring, finally have some warm weather, and here you are sounding like the Stark family in Game of Thrones, "Winter is coming!" indeed! Hmmmmph!

[SLD Bailey]

I'm ecstatic that you've got the impression of Jodie! That's exactly as I was hoping to portray her. It's always interesting to know how your characters come across to the reader. And I'll take that Stark comparison! Winter is coming...just not quick enough :)

[NoelHC]

OK, what you have changed here was the passage and transition I felt was missing from the end of the previous chapter and the segue into this one. Perfect solution to my confuddlement! Well done.

[W.k.kortas]

Again, I think you do a marvelous job with dialogue, especially in finding the right tone--breezy when it's appropriate, a little deeper and more intense when called for. As in the last chapter, the asides do a lovely job of setting the scene and providing background about the whys and wherefores behind the character, which is an awfully hard skill to master. Again, strong work.