‘Fuck off,’ he croaked, angry at the unwanted intrusion. His irritation was soon replaced with intense curiosity as the knocking continued. Eventually, he heaved himself up to see who was there. He’d flatten Terry if it was just him pissing about. His slippers scuffed against the linoleum. He waddled awkwardly, using the wall for support. He swore, vowing it would be the last time he would get up to answer the door.
9
Maya considered the warrant at The Farmhouse to have been a success as well as great experience. Aiden Donnelly had given a no-comment interview and been remanded in custody pending a trial. It was hoped that the prospect of a lengthy prison sentence would be enough to encourage him to start talking. The Operation Chrysalis team needed enough evidence to carry out further arrests and bring the rest of the gang to justice.
Maya had worked the following two weekends after the warrant. Her mid-week rest days allowed her the time to catch up on cleaning and shopping, as well as a couple of trips to the gym and some much-needed time out on her bike with her motorbike group. The weekends had been busy. She had investigated an arson scene and a serious Section 18 assault. She’d also worked with social services on a neglect case and photographed the home of a six-year-old girl who had been diagnosed with gonorrhoea. The implication of sexual assault was horrific enough, but the sheer squalor in which the poor girl lived was heartbreaking.
Maya and the social worker were forced to suit up to protect themselves from fleas. A mixture of human and cat excrement meant the place smelt worse than Karl Gorman’s, which was saying something. The fridge and cupboards were empty other than an abundance of alcohol. A handful of Happy Meal collectables were the only toys present. A collapsing flatpack wardrobe housed a pitiful amount of threadbare children’s clothes. Typically, the parents’ room lacked nothing including a state-of-the-art flat-screen TV with expensive surround sound. Clearly the child benefit had paid for something and the thought caused Maya’s blood to boil.
Fortunately, it was now Saturday night. Maya had the promise of a long weekend off ahead of her. She could afford to forget about work, kick back and relax. She was more than ready to have some fun with her two closest friends.
Donned in a floaty summer dress and wedges which accentuated her willowy figure, Maya headed to the pub. The colour of the dress flattered her honeycomb skin. She wore her hair down, her thick corkscrew curls bouncing as she walked. Maya pushed her way through the throngs of drinkers in The Brown Cow. She made her way to the far corner of the pub and the table next to the jukebox, where she and her friends usually sat.
Caitlin and Letitia were already there, shrieking with laughter over something Caitlin had just said. Both girls looked stunning as usual, perched on the tall bar stools, and too absorbed in their conversations to notice the admiring glances from anyone who passed them by. Seeing her two friends, Maya felt a huge rush of affection. Smiling, she headed over and exchanged hugs and kisses with both of them.
‘So sorry I’m late. I lost track of time and then Mama called as I was about to set off.’ She reached gratefully for the glass of Prosecco Letitia handed her and clinked glasses with her friends.
‘How is Dominique?’ Caitlin asked.
Taking a large gulp, Maya nodded through a mouthful of bubbles. ‘She’s fine, thanks. You know Mama, always busy with something or other. If she’s not working, she’s helping out the neighbours or arranging some kind of charity event. We’re overdue a proper catch-up, we only seem to manage snatches of phone calls these days or I see her briefly when I need to borrow the car. She sends you both her love.’
‘And, how’s work going – have you had any juicy jobs yet?’
Maya began to regale her friends with the story of Karl Gorman. While Caitlin belly laughed at the thought of Maya conversing through a glass door with a dead man, Letitia looked horrified.
‘Oh, Maya, how did you manage not to throw up? Eugh, the thought of having to touch it and everything.’ She shuddered. ‘God, it gives me the creeps.’ She was about to give Maya’s arm an encouraging squeeze, before suddenly withdrawing her hand as if she’d been burnt.
‘Christ, Letitia, you can touch me you know, I’ve had a wash since. Anyone would think I’ve just come straight from robbing graves or rolling around with cadavers.’ Caitlin burst into fresh peals of laughter as Letitia looked suitably shamefaced. The neighbouring table cast curious glances their way.
‘Anyway,’ Maya lowered her voice, ‘it can’t be as bad as doing bikini waxes and stuff. You’re not telling me that’s a pleasant experience.’
‘You cannot compare my clients to a dead body, Maya Barton, they’re all perfectly lovely, hygienic people.’ Letitia sniffed with indignation. She ran her own holistic health and beauty parlour and was fiercely protective of the loyal client base she had built up over the years.
‘Well, never mind. Dead bodies or hairy vaginas. They all pay the bills and cover the cost of Prosecco, so let’s not argue and drink up instead.’ Caitlin raised her glass to the other two.
Letitia looked thoughtful as she sipped her drink. ‘I’m trying to put it into context with me having a bad workday. I guess it would be someone coming in for a vajazzle and leaving with a nose piercing.’ They howled with laughter until Maya noticed Caitlin appeared distracted.
‘Hey, what’s up?’ Maya nudged her arm.
‘Absolutely nothing.’ Caitlin gave a knowing smile. ‘I’ve just been looking over at the bar to see how long it’s going to take me to get served, and there’s an extremely attractive bloke looking our way.’
‘Oh, who? Where?’ Letitia strained forward to look
