Chapter 21
Chapter Twenty-One
Leah Skelton was two years older than her sister, Morgan. They shared a flat in Cheadle and both were teachers at the same primary school. Leah was petite, slim and nervous, probably more at home around primary aged children than adults, and she was also very, very upset.
I took her into one of the few rooms that were ready for use at Two Angel Square, one designed for speaking to family members so it lacked the oppressive factors an interview room would have.
There were no comfy chairs yet, so we had to make use of a couple of plastic garden chairs the builders had conveniently left in there.
Leah asked for water, because she didn’t drink caffeine, and I asked for Verity to sit in while I took a statement because Nick or Vinny or Lachy or any one of the other blokes I felt would be a bit too much.
“Leah, when was the last time you saw your sister?” I started gently, no need for firmness or to take the reins yet.
She wiped at her eyes with a tissue Verity had managed to find. “Thursday evening. She was going out to meet a friend, but she didn’t say which one and then staying over at a friend’s in Liverpool for a night out – someone she went to university with.”
“An obvious question, but have you checked with the friend?”
Leah nodded. “She never turned up in Liverpool. I tried to report her as missing yesterday evening when she didn’t come home, but the police said it had to be forty-eight hours because she wasn’t a vulnerable adult.”
Which was why we hadn’t come been able to match the description of our third victim to a missing person. It was a scenario we’d considered already, and correct, because there was no doubt in my mind that Morgan Skelton was our third victim.
“Can you describe your sister to me?”
Leah pulled her purse out of her handbag and tugged out a photograph, one taken in a photobooth. “This is from our work’s Christmas do. We had some silly ones taken and then did a serious one for our mum, because she’s always saying she doesn’t have any good photos of us together.”
There was no doubt about it. Leah’s sister had been murdered.
“Thank you, Leah.” I lifted my eyes from the photo to her and studied her face. She knew the victim was her sister. A light in her had gone out and I knew from experience that it wouldn’t be switched back on.
Murder didn’t just kill the victim. It killed the lives of those left grieving. Fear and guilt and a plague of what-ifs would hide in moments of darkness, waiting to jump out, present memories that weren’t ones to treasure.
“It’s her, isn’t it? Morgan’s dead.”
It was her, as we confirmed an hour later, Leah bracing herself to identify the body of her sister, carefully shrouded on a cold slab in the morgue.
Nate was there, Easter Sunday not meaning anything for him because the dead wouldn’t rise and he was on duty.
Jenna Osei was not there, a rare off day unless we found another body in the water, which meant I had another day to get used to the fact she’d been having contact with my half-brother and I hadn’t.
Morgan Skelton was well-liked, pretty, and good at her job, a year five teacher at a primary school she and her sister could walk to.
Her friend Isabel had been expecting her on Thursday night, ready to start the Easter weekend with a night out in Liverpool, a goodbye party for a university friend with around twelve others.
She hadn’t shown up at the Air B I’m sure he’ll happily put a warning on your forehead. Hang on, Diane’s messaged me.” I read the text. “You’re right – Morgan’s active on social media and she posts about romance books. Her name on there’s Tropes Before Tea.”
“Good work, Diane.”
There was nothing to hint at who Morgan had met Thursday evening. No messages on her socials, no passing comments that her sister had heard her make. No clue left for us to be able to track down a killer whose identity we had no lead on.
I spent Easter Sunday afternoon eating discount Easter eggs and reading through comments left on her social media, which ranged from the positive go, sister, I love your vibe to modern women think they’re too good for average guys.
You won’t be smiling forever from the completely Awakened_TrueMale69.
The gym was my chosen destination afterwards, a need to burn off some steam from being in the office and the morgue most of the day. I preferred being out in the field, even if it was knocking on doors and being told to fuck off to being still and confined, probably to do with my childhood.
It was always to do with childhoods.
The gym was empty apart from Jalen, who was pulling hell out of a punching bag when I got there, his skin glistening with sweat.
“Mia!” He announced my entrance without turning round. “Busy day?”
I dropped my coat and kept hold of my bag, needing to take my chances and change.
“You could say that. I need to get changed. I didn’t want to hang around at work.”
“Why was that?”
“One of the DC’s was trying to find me to see if I wanted to go for a drink and I might’ve said yes.” It would’ve been all too easy to have fallen into to a Bank Holiday Sunday drinking game, forgetting I didn’t have the luxury of lounging off a hangover, and feeling rough all day tomorrow.
“A fate worse than death. You’ve avoided another fate – the changing rooms are out of action.
The ceiling fell through yesterday and it won’t be fixed until Tuesday.
” He pulled off his gloves and dropped them.
“But I’m a gentleman and I’ll turn my back.
” He shot me a grin that was sheer good-natured cheese.
I found I didn’t mind the idea of him seeing me change and automatically felt guilty. I had a boyfriend, a nice, handsome, respectable boyfriend who’d offered to go round to mine and cook me dinner.
I’d said no, because I wasn’t sure I’d be good company, my head still throbbing with the memory of Leah’s face when she identified her sister’s corpse.
I went into a corner where the free weights were, away from the open door, not needing to worry about the windows because the outside of them hadn’t been washed in half a century at least.
Trousers, shirt, jacket, bra, all went into my gym back, and I pulled on shorts and a sports bra, keeping my back turned, wondering if Jalen had kept his word.
My bra had just been secured when arms grabbed me from behind and I was pulled backwards and down, panic flooded every muscle, my heart bursting out of my chest. Old memories deluged my brain, but I boxed them away, taking the rage they set fire to and forcing me to give this a different ending.
I started to fight, bite, kick backwards with my heels, and I freed my elbows, remembering at last to use my body weight, scrambling and kicking, until I twisted out of the grasp and then my training kicked in and I was back on my feet.
But so was he, looming over me, using his size to dominate.
Upper cut, punch, grab, a knee up towards his head and I remembered where I was and who I was with, stopping just before my knee made contact with his head, but kicking out towards his groin.
I relaxed, stopping. I’d have had him then, been able to floor him, and Jalen knew it.
“That was better.” He nodded, letting me catch my breath. “The changing rooms are fine, Mia, I just wanted to properly test you.”
My next inhale was long and hard, filling my lungs, before letting my breath out suddenly. I looked at his face. “I’ve busted your lip.”
Jalen lifted a hand and touched his face. He fingers came away bloody. “So you have. It’ll heal.”
“I’m sorry.” I apologised as he found kitchen roll, randomly left around because these things happened in a boxing gym.
“No need. I expected it. You were wild,” he managed to grin at me, despite his injuries. “I liked it.”
I looked at floor, kind of proud, pleased with myself. “Thanks.”
“Pad work, next? I think I’d like to walk out of here without my face completely mangled.”
We went through combinations of hits, changing them up, Jalen demanding my focus. Jab, jab, hook, cross. Jab, jab, hook, cross.
Jabjabhookcross.
We stopped when I was breathless, hot in the face and drenched in sweat.
“Break. Water.” He grabbed us a couple of bottles, sitting down on the mat, warm himself. “How’s it going with the killer?”
“Not easy. We’ll get them though.” I knew we would. I just hoped it was soon.
“You will. No one can beat you, Mia. Even me.”
I laughed, elbowing him in the arm. “I need to record you saying things like that and then I can play them as mantras any time. You should go into motivational speaking or something like that.”
“Nah, not my thing. I’d have to stand still else I’d give people a headache. What are you doing tonight?”
For a moment I thought he was going to ask me out. “Showering. I might try and read a book. You?”
“Picking my kids up. They’re with me till Tuesday so if you want another session, it’ll have to be after that. You can always phone me, though, if you want more motivational talk.”
So he wasn’t going to ask me out. I felt like a fool.
I’d known him years and never looked at him like this before. Why now? I had a boyfriend. I didn’t shit where I ate either, knowing when not to spoil a good thing, and this was a good thing.
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Want a lift home?”
I shook my head. I could make good decisions. “I’m good. You go get your kids. I’ll get home on the tram.”
He gave me a wink and another grin. “Well, you know you’re capable of looking after yourself.”