‘Bye bye.’ Janine finished the call and turned to the DC.
‘Anonymous call from a woman,’ said Chen. ‘Claims Matthew Tulley was a right bastard and his wife should be glad he’s dead.’
‘Crank?’
Chen shrugged. Could be.
‘Get a name?’ Janine asked Chen.
‘No, number withheld, too.’
Shap came over then, obviously excited about something, a glint in his eyes, smile playing round the edge of his lips. ‘Matthew Tulley’s parents. Back from a weekend in Paris and just seen the news. Want to know why we didn’t try to contact them.’
‘What with? A ouija board? We were told they were dead!’ Janine was astonished. ‘When I asked about notifying close family on Saturday, Lesley Tulley said that both his parents were dead. Bloody hell!’ She stood up and paced a few steps to the wall and back. She tried to work out the significance of this bombshell. ‘So someone has been telling lies.’
‘I said you’d ring them straight back, boss.’
‘Of course. I’ll want to see them as well. Where are they?’
‘Lymm.’
‘Right. I’m taking an early lunch, parents stuff, Michael’s school. Then DI Mayne and I visit Ferdie Gibson’s friend Colin, we’ll see what Mr and Mrs Lazarus have to say after that.’
‘We are very worried about Michael’s attitude.’ Mr Corkland, Michael’s Head of Year, spoke gravely. ‘His performance is disappointing and now these allegations of bullying have been made.’
Bullying! Oh, no. Her heart went out to Michael. The thought of him braving school each day. Waiting for the next attack. Had they hit him, verbally abused him or what? She’d had no inkling of it. ‘No wonder his work’s going downhill,’ she said. ‘You have an anti bullying policy, don’t you?’
‘Mrs Lewis,. Michael isn’t being bullied.’
‘But you just said-’
‘He’s doing the bullying.’
Janine stared at the man, opened her mouth then shut it again. ‘Michael?’ She finally managed.
‘There are four of them. They’ve been harassing two students in their year, sending text messages. There may have been thefts too. Mobile phones.’
‘Why isn’t Michael here? He should know what he’s being accused of.’
‘Michael’s not in school, he appears to have left school after registration.’
Janine’s heart sank. Bullying and now missing school. And the policeman last night, the one she’d sent away with a flea in his ear, who claimed Michael had been accused of an attempted mugging. She felt sick and dizzy. Michael. What on earth was going on?
She rang Pete from the police station car park where she was meeting Richard. ‘Is Michael with you?’
‘No. Why?’
She sighed. ‘He’s bunked off school. I’ve just been in. He’s got in with the wrong crowd. Oh, Pete, they’ve been nicking mobile phones, bullying other kids.’
He exhaled noisily. ‘So, he got a taste of his own medicine, Saturday?’
Janine closed her eyes. Wished this wasn’t happening.
‘Janine?’
Across the car park she watched Richard leave the building with Jenny Chen. He whispered something to her and the beautiful young woman flung back her head and laughed, put a hand on his arm to steady herself. Very chummy.
‘I don’t think he gave us the full story,’ she told Pete. ‘The police came round last night. Their version was that Michael was the villain of the piece.’
‘Why didn’t you tell me? Christ, Janine.’
Don’t shoot the messenger, she thought. ‘It was late and I thought they’d cocked it up, and,’ she added reluctantly, ‘Michael was drunk.’
DC Chen drove off and Richard scanned the cars. Janine waved him over.
‘What! He’s fifteen!’ Pete sounded completely appalled.
‘And how old were you, first time you got drunk?’
‘I was never a thief.’
Janine gave another sigh. Richard reached the car, she nodded for him to get in. ‘I expect he’s with these mates. If you hear from him…’
‘What?’
‘Just, don’t… don’t go mad at him.’
Pete cut the connection, obviously resenting her for the comment. She just didn’t think a full-blown row would help Michael.
Richard looked curious but she wasn’t in any mood to share it with him.
‘Any word on Dean Hendrix?’
He shook his head. Janine started the engine.
Even at school they were talking about it. Maria going on about how her mam knew the man that had been murdered. Then Megan saying that everyone who went to church knew him because he was there every week. He sat near the back with the Hennesseys. Jade couldn’t remember him but she didn’t go every week. Only when Mam felt up to it. And someone said the police had started a manhunt.
Jade wondered if the manhunt had horses or maybe they just used the helicopter because they could see where you were from that even if you were hiding. It was on the telly and they showed these men in some bushes and they were hot and the helicopter could see them with a special thing. They could even see you in a wheelie bin. Jade nearly told them what she’d seen. That would show them. They’d all want to sit with Jade at school dinners.
Then in assembly they had to say a special prayer for Mr Tulley and Mrs Tulley. He was a teacher at St Columbus. That’s where you went to big school. They had the same colour uniform. At break, Anthony said Mr Tulley had his head chopped off but he was just making it up ‘cos when Liam asked him how he knew he said he just did and he went red. Liam kicked him and said liar, liar, pants on fire and Liam said Mr Tulley had been shot with an aykay forty-seven. He pointed his finger at Jade and shot her ‘pyew, pyew’.
‘You are so sad,’ Jade told him and she went to sit by the wall. She wondered if Mr Tulley would be in heaven already or if he had to go to purgatory for a bit. You only went straight to heaven if you’d no sins. So if you’d done something wrong and you died before your next confession then you went to purgatory and you suffered until your sins were cleaned up. Then you could go up.
If you had loads of sins, if your soul was all black with sins then you’d go straight to hell. Everlasting torment. If they were mortal sins. It was really hard, thought Jade, to be good all the time. Mainly remembering all the time was hard. Just one little thing and you’d committed a sin.
Even babies weren’t pure. They were all born with the sins of the world. They didn’t get sent to purgatory though, just limbo. They didn’t suffer, just floated about like astronauts. But they stayed there. That was tight really, ‘cos if you were a baby and you died and went to limbo and then your mam died and went to heaven then you’d never see her again. For all eternity. But a baby was all right if it got baptised. That took away all the sins and then they were saved. Jade knew how to save a baby. You could baptise it yourself. You needed holy water though. You put some on your thumb and you made a sign of the cross on the baby’s forehead and you said, ‘I baptise you in the name of the father and of the son and of the holy spirit. Amen.’ Then it was safe. Jade had baptised all her dolls. It was good practise. Anyway, if Mr Tulley went to mass every week he’d probably be okay.
Janine surveyed the tatty mobile home that Ferdie Gibson’s mate Colin hid in. The place was near Northenden, tucked in between the motorway flyover and the steep banks of the murky brown river. A dismal place, she thought, the roar of the traffic night and day, the shadow of the concrete bridge and a dispirited ram shackle air to the whole site.
Janine wondered what sort of upbringing the lad had had to end up here, on his own. Colin blinked repeatedly and licked his lips as she and Richard stepped in through the narrow doorway and perched on the sagging mattress couch at the dining end of the space.