The next article was written by Jeff Stanley, who retired two years ago. Luke remembers him for his bad temper and bad taste in ties, but he taught Luke a lot. His style was more ‘tabloid’ than the more neutral tone of the Chronicle – he was wasted here.
31 December 2005
Serial criminal, Jason Bamber, 27, has been jailed after being found guilty of assault. Bamber, of Holden Road, Preston, punched Robert Gregory, 24, in the face, and held him by the throat, causing him to lose consciousness.
Bamber pleaded guilty in Preston Magistrates’ Court and was sentenced to six months in prison.
21 January 2010
Local man, Jason Bamber, 31, pleaded guilty of possession with intent to supply after being found with 2 kg of cannabis on his person. Bamber, of Water Lane, Preston, was sentenced to two years in prison.
Most of Jason’s articles were only a few lines. None of them printed his photo. Luke wonders if Craig’s probation team are aware of his delightful friend. It must be in his terms not to keep the company of criminals. He can’t be so stupid as to hang around with him now, can he?
Jason must know things about Craig that were never brought up – the pair were close growing up. Luke types Jason’s name into 192.com and writes down the address.
Luke stands and grabs his jacket, just as Mikey places a pale cold-looking coffee on his desk. The lad looks rather pleased with himself.
‘Sorry, Mikey,’ says Luke. ‘I’ve got serious journalism to be getting on with.’
‘But it took me ages to make that.’
‘Why don’t you have it?’ Luke checks for his keys and heads to the door. ‘And a little less milk next time.’
Luke pulls up outside a convenience store a few streets down from Jason Bamber’s house. The inside is pretty full, considering it’s ten thirty on a weekday. Don’t these people have jobs to go to? There’s an older gentleman talking to a woman with a voice that hurts Luke’s ears. She’s wearing a waterproof jacket that’s printed with pictures of cartoon dogs. An acquired taste.
Luke lingers next to them, pretending to ponder the microwave rice.
‘…Brian Sharpe was in here the other day, Reg. Fuming, he was.’
Luke’s interest is piqued at the mention of the name.
‘Was it about that Craig lad?’ asks Reg.
The woman tuts. Luke imagines her rolling her eyes and sees her shaking her grey-haired bob out the corner of his eye.
‘Have you seen him, then,’ says Reg, ‘since he’s come back?’
‘Not yet. But you know me… I’m a busy person… I haven’t the time to spend getting involved in other people’s business.’
‘Right you are, Pam,’ says Reg. ‘Anyway, I’d best get off. Eileen’ll be wondering where I’ve got to with the paper.’
‘Oh, all right, then. See you later.’
Pam sounds disappointed. It seems she could have talked about it all day. Luke can’t resist – he knows the type; they love a bit of attention.
‘You know Craig Wright, then?’ he says.
‘Know is a bit strong,’ she says, turning towards him and talking to Luke as though he were an old friend. ‘But I’ve lived here all my life. It was such a shock – I can’t get over it.’
He’s grateful she didn’t castigate him for eavesdropping; she’s probably used to it. She leans closer to Luke.
‘He’d better not start hanging round with young girls again. I’ll be straight on to 101 if I see any of that.’
‘How will you know who he’s hanging around with?’
‘I like to think I’m more observant than others around here. I’ve seen his friend, Jason, driving around – he’s got tinted windows on that flash car of his. God knows what he gets up to in the back of that.’
‘Does he still live on Croston Street?’
‘Yes,’ she says, narrowing her eyes at Luke. ‘You’re not from around here, are you? Are you a reporter?’
Luke holds up his hands.
‘You’re a canny one. Miss Marple’s got nothing on you.’
She looks pleased with his assessment and she smiles, revealing perfectly straight, white teeth. They must be false – the woman must be in her eighties.
‘I like to look out for my community, that’s all.’
‘Is Craig’s dad not around?’
‘No… though there’s been plenty of talk about who the father is. Was a bit of a scandal at the time, although I like to think of myself as open-minded…’
‘Sure you do.’
‘They never expected anything like that from Erica. I mean, she never had boyfriends or anything… she always kept her head down. She must be good at keeping secrets – I didn’t have a clue that she was even seeing anyone. I suppose living with that mother of hers would’ve driven anyone a bit potty. She was always in Erica’s business, that Maria. She wanted Erica to go to university – make something of herself.’
‘Maria?’
‘Erica’s mum. Yes – it’s a youthful name, isn’t it? Anyway, she hardly let Erica go out on her own… would only allow her to hang around with Denise Nuttall – that’s her maiden name. Those two were always together until, well, you know… Anyway, when Erica got her job down the road, she had a bit more freedom.’ Pam leans conspiratorially towards Luke. ‘Although that freedom must’ve gone to her head, if you know what I mean. And of course, she went back to work a few years after Craig started school… well, she had to after that terrible business with her mother… fifty-four’s no age at all. Did you hear about that? Found dead at the bottom of the stairs. You know, sometimes I wonder… it’s not surprising Craig turned out as he did. And his friend, Jason. Well, those two were close… some even reckoned… you know… that those two had a thing.’ She cocks her head to one side and raises her eyebrows. ‘Like I said, I’m open-minded, but it wouldn’t have been right, not in those circumstances.’
‘I see.’
Luke has no idea what she’s going on about. Pam narrows her eyes at Luke, tilting her head.
Luke fishes a card from his inside pocket.
‘I’m looking into their family history,’ he says, thinking on the spot. ‘But don’t let anyone know, will you? Here’s my contact details – if you think of anything else, give us a bell. I’ll even give you a mention if you want – or if there are any events you’ve got going on, I can give you a plug.’
She takes the card.
‘I’ll have a think,’ she says, grinning and placing the card against her chest. ‘Oh, you’ve made my day.’
She pulls out a piece of paper from her pocket and writes on it.
‘I’ll give you my number too, in case you think of any other questions. My name’s Pamela, by the way. Pamela Valentine.’
‘Nice to meet you, Pamela.’
That’s one Valentine he’d be disappointed receiving on the fourteenth of February.
Luke leaves the shop and jumps into his car, feeling nauseous at the thought of knocking on Jason’s door.
He reaches the house in minutes. Outside is a black BMW 5 Series. It must’ve cost ten grand at least.
Luke gets out of his car.
The front door is red, spotless. He bangs on it using the lion-head door knocker.