Only the Good Die Young Read online

  ‘Nope,’ said Shirley. ‘And London is full of vans exactly like that one. It’s the most popular make.’

  ‘Do you think it’s a set up?’ asked Dave. ‘Family? The warden said she wasn’t friendly with her family.’

  ‘Inheritance perhaps?’

  ‘Why else,’ said Dave. ‘Bloody families.’

  As he said it, his personal mobile rang.

  ‘And here we go,’ he said. ‘My mother is ringing.’

  Shirley smiled.

  ‘I’ll leave you to it,’ she said.

  Dave answered.

  ‘I’m just at work at the moment, Mum,’ he said.

  ‘Well, when am I meant to catch you then? You seem to work all hours.’

  ‘Nature of the job I’m afraid,’ he said.

  ‘You know about next Tuesday?’

  ‘No, what is it?’ he said. ‘Look I haven’t got long.’

  ‘It’s the anniversary of your brother’s death. We’re lighting Chinese lanterns in the park.’

  ‘Oh Mum, you know I won’t be there.’

  ‘But he was your brother.’

  ‘He was a no good heroin addict who died the way he was meant to.’

  His mother went silent.

  ‘I’m sorry to say it, Mum. I know he was your son, but as far as I’m concerned there’s nothing to celebrate about his life. I just want to get on with my life.’

  ‘What life? You’re divorced. You work all hours. You haven’t got a life.’

  ‘Can’t argue with that. Look I’ll call you next week. Hope it goes well with the lanterns and all that. I’ve got to go.’

  Dave hung up. He tutted to himself. He didn’t want to hurt his mother but she needed to realise Stephen was dead and that was the way it was meant to be.

  Shirley came in and banged a full mug of tea on his desk, spilling it on his paperwork.

  ‘I heard you,’ she said.

  ‘About my brother, you mean. Yeah, drug addict, died a long time ago. Overdose.’

  ‘I didn’t mean that. Lord, if I spoke to my mother like you just did. Well. I don’t know what she’d do. Have respect. She’s your mother for God’s sake.’

  ‘Sorry Shirley but you have a different family to me. She encourages it.’

  ‘Poor woman’s lost her son and might as well have lost the other too,’ said Shirley.

  ‘OK, OK,’ said Dave. ‘I’ll send her some flowers.’

  Shirley sucked her teeth.

  ‘And I’ll call her too. Soon as I get home.’

  ‘Thank you!’ she said.

  Dave sipped his tea, cupping his hand to collect the drips. She was right. Shirley should be his boss not the other way round. There was a silence in the room that made him feel uncomfortable.

  ‘Don’t you ever miss your brother?’ said Shirley.

  ‘He got into drugs when he was fifteen. I lost him then. The fact that he died when he was eighteen makes no odds. I don’t ever think of him.’

  ‘I’m an only child so I wouldn’t know about siblings.’

  ‘Yeah, you’re not missing much,’ said Dave.

  ‘Tell you what,’ said Shirley.

  ‘What?’ said Dave.

  ‘I’ll buy you a kebab,’ she said.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Well, I don’t know. I feel bad. I spilt your tea.’

  ‘Yeah, that’s worth a disciplinary, I can tell you.’

  She smiled.

  ‘Come on,’ she said. ‘Let’s have a break and go after a juicy doner.’

  Dave nodded and got up from his desk.

  At the kebab shop, Dave sat on a red plastic chair and watched Shirley order food. He sighed a deep sigh. Straight girls just don’t strut like that. If only he was a woman.

  As Shirley sat down, the kebab shop worker nodded to another customer. Dave watched. It was a signal to him. He was letting the customer know they were police. He raised his eyebrows at Shirley. She nodded and leant forward across the table.

  ‘Dealer?’ she whispered.

  They turned and looked at the customer. His face fell.

  ‘Laters,’ the man said before walking out and scurrying off down the street.

  ‘Nah,’ said Dave. ‘Probably a punter with an eighth on him. Dealers don’t run unless they have to.’

  ‘Ah well, maybe we can eat his dinner,’ said Shirley.

  ‘Salad and chilli sauce?’

  Shirley put her thumb up.

  ‘Lots of chilli,’ said Dave.

  There was quiet again as they ate. A companionable silence now as they concentrated on eating without getting food on their laps. Shirley was better at it than Dave.

  ‘Shit,’ he said.

  He picked up a piece of lettuce dripping in sauce that left a red mark on his grey trousers.

  ‘What’s next, boss?’ asked Shirley, in between mouthfuls.

  ‘Ah. We get right inside Mrs Mckinckley’s children. Three girls. All live local. Find out what dosh she had hidden, and who inherits.’

  ‘Do you really think they may have done something to her?’

  ‘We’ll probe and see, but let’s first exhaust all the missing person possibilities.’

  ‘Excellent,’ said Shirley. ‘Sounds like a plan. I’d better tell the Chief what we’re doing.’

  ‘He’s useless. He’ll sigh and drink more whiskey. He doesn’t care.’

  ‘It’s procedure.’

  ‘If you want,’ said Dave.

  Shirley rang in to the station.

  ‘We’re concerned about a missing lady,’ she said.

  ‘And?’

  ‘I just wanted to keep you up to date with our movements.’

  ‘Thank you Sergeant Palmer. Go ahead.’

  ‘Thanks sir.’

  After delivering a short summary Shirley hung up.

  ‘Was he slurring his words?’ asked Dave.

  ‘I’m sure that hip flask is a myth. How would he keep his job?’

  ‘Friends in high places, no less.’

  They decided to visit the children in order, eldest to youngest.

  ‘My money’s on the middle child. Always the middle child,’ said Shirley.

  ‘Eldest usually inherits. Eldest has more children than the others,’ said Dave.

  ‘You’ve got inside information!’

  ‘Yep, eldest has three children, middle has two and youngest has none.’

  ‘I’m still with the middle.’

  Dave and Shirley arrived at a terraced house in Peckham. A woman wearily opened the door.

  ‘Yes?’ she said.

  ‘Police,’ said Dave. ‘We’ve come about your mother.’

  The woman broke down in tears.

  ‘Have you found her?’ she asked.

  ‘No,’ said Dave. ‘Not yet. I must warn you at this point to expect bad news.’

  Shirley drew breath.

  ‘We are very sorry,’ she said. ‘Often we do expect the worst. Perhaps we can come in to get a few more details for our inquiry.’

  Dave followed the two women down a dark hallway and into a spotlighted kitchen.

  ‘Mum’s great. We all see a lot of her,’ she said.

  ‘All the sisters get on with her well?’ asked Dave.

  ‘Yes. She’s a great mum and a fabulous grandmother.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ said Dave. ‘We have to ask this. Did your mother, I mean, does your mother, have any savings?’

  The woman looked up, wide eyed.

  ‘Savings? No. No none at all in fact. In fact she and Dad ran a shop, a bakery, for most of our lives. When Dad died, she sold up. She then gave all her savings to us, the three of us, equally.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Yes. I bought this house at the time. I’m a single mother. I could never have afforded a house if it wasn’t for Mum. She was so kind to us. She did the same for us all.’

  ‘And she doesn’t have any money squirrelled away?’

  The woman looked at the kitchen table, she seemed
deep in thought.

  The detectives waited.

  ‘If Mum has any money, I don’t know where she would have got it from. She doesn’t even play the lottery.’

  Dave raised one eyebrow at Shirley when they got back to the car.

  ‘What do you think?’ he said. ‘Apart from that I’m an insensitive bastard of course. Thanks for pulling us back from that one.’

  ‘She needed to know the truth. You’re blunt. It does the job.’

  ‘And her? All truth-telling you think?’ said Dave.

  ‘Yeah, she’s visibly shocked and upset. It would be quite an act. Let’s go see the middle one. She’ll be warned we’re coming now but I reckon we can read her.’

  They drove to a detached house with front and back garden. Dave wondered if this daughter got the bulk of the money. He asked Shirley.

  ‘Two incomes for this family, boss,’ she said.

  Dave shook his head at his own stupidity. He knocked on the front door. There was a pause then a middle aged, well-dressed man opened the door.

  ‘Police,’ said Dave.

  ‘Have you found her?’ he asked.

  ‘Not yet sir,’ said Dave. ‘May we come in?’

  They were taken to the family sitting room. Three faces looked at them. They had all been crying.

  ‘May I ask a few questions?’ asked Dave.

  They nodded.

  ‘I take it you two are the grandchildren of Mrs Mckinckley?’ said Dave.

  Two young men in their late teens or early twenties nodded their heads in unison.

  ‘Can I ask about Mrs Mckinckley’s character? Is she a good person?’ he asked.

  The mother began to cry and one of the sons put his arm around her. Dave looked at Shirley. She nodded and took over.

  ‘We need to find out what happened to your mother,’ said Shirley. ‘If you have any information, we’d love to find out a bit more about her. It is possible she stood up to a mugger. Is that something she might do?’

  The husband snorted from the doorway. Dave turned to size him up. The husband gulped.

  ‘Do you get along with your mother-in-law?’ he asked.

  ‘Of course I do. What are you insinuating. She has a very strong character. I can certainly imagine her standing up to anyone who crossed her. That doesn’t mean I don’t love her very much.’

  Dave watched the man’s face turn purple. He saw the decanter on the side table. A whiskey drinker.

  ‘Whatever has happened to Mum, whatever could have happened, we have always been very much cared for by her. She has the most generous heart in the world. We love her. All of us do. And we can’t wait to see her again,’ said Susie.

  ‘Thank you,’ said Dave.

  Dave turned to walk out. When he was outside, he realised Shirley wasn’t with him. He sat on the garden wall and kicked his feet on the brick. It wasn’t the family. They weren’t capable of it. So if it wasn’t a hitman it must have been a stranger. A stranger in a white van.

  ‘Hey you,’ said Shirley.

  ‘There you are,’ said Dave.

  ‘I just wanted to ask about the money. They did get money from her. She stumped up quite a bit for the house. But the husband is an accountant. He must earn enough. I can’t think it was money related.’

  ‘I don’t know. I suppose we should visit the youngest child seeing as we’ve seen the others. Not family though. I feel it. I’m concerned about this. It’s just not right.’

  Dave walked slowly to the car.

  ‘Vans,’ he said. ‘It’s the van we need.’

  The youngest daughter opened the door of a third floor flat. A cat rushed towards them and brushed against Dave’s leg.

  ‘You’ve made a friend there,’ said Shirley.

  ‘Come in, come in,’ said the daughter.

  The flat was candle lit.

  ‘No electricity?’ asked Dave.

  ‘I’ve lit some candles for Mum. I’m praying and meditating for her.’

  ‘You must love her very much,’ said Shirley.

  ‘Well, she’s not an easy person. I think when she lived with Susie it put a lot of strain on her and her husband. We were all glad when she moved to the sheltered housing.’

  ‘When was this?’ asked Dave.

  ‘Oh maybe five years ago,’ said the daughter.

  ‘Tell me,’ said Dave. ‘This was before she offered her savings to you all?’

  ‘No, no. That was when Dad died. Long time ago now. I went travelling. The others were sensible with theirs, but I did just need to get away. It was heart-breaking to lose Dad.’

  Dave nodded.

  ‘We’ll do our best to find your mother,’ he said. He looked down.

  The daughter tapped her foot on the floor, anxious.

  ‘I do know it might not be good news,’ she said. ‘As much as I pray, I just can’t get it out of my head that she’s died, that she’s died horribly too. Please find her. I need to find her body. We need to do this properly, to bury her with Dad.’

  Dave nodded.

  Shirley was rubbing a tear away.

  It made Dave want to cry too.

  ‘We’ll leave you,’ he said. ‘And we will find her. We will.’

  Back at the station, Dave shook his head.

  ‘Who would kill an old lady like that?’ he said.

  ‘It must have been a mugging that went wrong,’ said Shirley.

  ‘It doesn’t sit right,’ said Dave.

  ‘A random attack? She got in the way of a crime? Who knows? With all the gangs around that area I wouldn’t be surprised,’ said Shirley.

  ‘No. It was premeditated. The way the van followed her then stopped. This is something strange. I’ve got a bad feeling.’

  ‘A bad feeling? You’ve been listening to that daughter with her candles and prayers. This isn’t the Mr Rational I know,’ she said.

  ‘No. It is. I am being rational. We need to find that van. There’ll be more otherwise,’ he said.

  ‘I can see your thinking. It isn’t the family.’

  ‘We need to go public on this one. I’ll have to talk to the Chief.’

  Dave knocked on the office door.

  ‘Yes?’

  Dave opened the door and walked into the messy office to see the red face of an alcoholic staring back.

  ‘We need to issue an alert to the public. We are looking for a white van. If we don’t approach the public now, well, I’m actually concerned about this one, sir.’

  The Chief leaned back in his seat.

  ‘Is this about your missing dementia patient?’

  Dave drew breath.

  ‘We have evidence that the lady in question had her wits about her. There is evidence that she was abducted. It is urgent that we find this white van before anyone else is abducted.’

  ‘Scaremongering, are we?’

  ‘It is my strongest recommendation, sir.’

  ‘I’ll think about it and get back to you,’ said the Chief.

  ‘Thank you,’ said Dave.

  An hour later they issued an alert asking the public to phone in with sightings of a white van, last seen in the Camberwell area.

  ‘So now, we wait for the calls,’ said Dave.

  It didn’t take long. Within three hours they had hundreds of sightings.

  ‘How we doing?’ Dave asked the police officer handling the calls.

  He rolled his eyes.

  ‘Ever seen a white van with no markings in London?’ he said. ‘Every busybody in London has. Do you want us to follow them all up?’

  ‘Nothing interesting at all?’ asked Dave.

  ‘We even had a call from a woman to say she can’t get hold of her dad and can we go round and see if he’s OK!’ he said.

  Dave stood up straight. This was it. His bad feeling.

  ‘What is the address?’ he said.

  Chapter 3

  Shirley wished she had trusted Dave. If he thought there was a serial killer around, he was most likely correct. She follow
ed him up the path to the ground floor flat in Peckham.

  There was no answer from knocking. Shirley looked through the bay window. The net curtains were thick and dirty. She could make out silhouettes of furniture but no sign of anyone. Knocking on the window didn’t help.

  ‘I’m going in,’ said Dave.

  Shirley waited for Dave to kick the door in. The wood splintered and the door swung open. They searched the flat. No sign of anyone. The bed was neatly made. The remains of a bowl of cereal and mug of Horlicks were the only sign that anyone had been here recently.

  Shirley looked at Dave and shrugged.

  ‘Have we spoken to the daughter?’ she asked.

  ‘I haven’t. I’ll call the station and get her number,’ said Dave.

  ‘Nah,’ said Shirley.

  She pointed at the telephone number attached to the fridge.

  She got out her mobile and called the number.

  ‘Hello?’ said a female voice.

  ‘Hello. Did you make a call to the police about your father?’

  ‘Yes. Yes, I did. I can’t get hold of him.’

  ‘That’s unusual?’

  ‘Very. We speak every day. I’m in Scotland you see. I don’t see that much of him. So we talk. We talk every day.’

  ‘We’re at his flat now. There is no sign of him. Was he planning to go anywhere?’

  ‘Only to the hospital. He doesn’t get out much. He had a gall bladder problem. He was going for an appointment this morning. I’d expect him back by now. I did call the hospital. They said they hadn’t seen him. That he had missed the appointment. That’s why I’m so worried. Where is he?’

  Shirley gulped.

  ‘We’ll check all the hospitals. We’ll make sure he didn’t have an accident on the way.’

  ‘But, he doesn’t live far.’

  ‘Which hospital was his appointment at?’

  ‘King’s. It’s not far. He would have got the bus there.’

  ‘OK. Try to keep calm. We’re going to have a look urgently. It is our priority and we’re not taking this lightly. We will need a photograph of your father. Is there a recent one in the flat?’

  ‘I saw him a month ago. I have photos on my phone.’

  ‘Can you email them?’

  The daughter took the email address.

  ‘Thank you. I’ll come down. I’ll come down tonight with my husband. Can I give you my mobile number in case you find him.’