Copyright

Published by Avon an imprint of

HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 1 London Bridge Street,

London, SE1 9GF

www.harpercollins.co.uk

First published in Great Britain by HarperCollins Publishers 2018

Copyright © Mel Sherratt 2018

Cover photograph: Stoke Canal Scene © Alan Tunnicliffe/Shutterstock

Cover photograph: Running Woman © Henry Steadman

Cover design © Henry Steadman

Mel Sherratt asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

Source ISBN: 9780008271046

Ebook Edition © October 2018 ISBN:9780008339302

Version: 2018-11-22

Praise for Mel Sherratt:

‘An absolute masterpiece. Twisty, turny and full of surprises!’

Angela Marsons

‘Mel Sherratt’s books are as smart and edgy as her heroines’

Cara Hunter

‘Mel Sherratt is the new queen of gritty police procedurals’

C.L. Taylor

‘Twists and turns and delivers a satisfying shot of tension’

Rachel Abbott

‘Heart-stoppingly tense. I love Mel Sherratt’s writing’

Angela Clarke

‘Gripped me from the first page and didn’t let go until the heart-stopping conclusion!’

Robert Bryndza

‘A writer to watch out for’

Mandasue Heller

‘Uncompromising, powerful and very real – an important new voice’

David Mark

‘Mel’s vivid imagination really brings her characters to life’

Kerry Wilkinson

‘Mel Sherratt is a unique voice in detective fiction’

Mail on Sunday

Dedication

To Chris and Alison,

for always believing in me.

Contents

Cover

Title Page

Copyright

Praise for Mel Sherratt

Dedication

March 2017

Chapter One: August 2018

Chapter Two: September 2018

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty-One

Chapter Thirty-Two

Chapter Thirty-Three

Chapter Thirty-Four

Chapter Thirty-Five

Chapter Thirty-Six

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Chapter Forty

Chapter Forty-One

Chapter Forty-Two

Chapter Forty-Three

Chapter Forty-Four

Chapter Forty-Five

Chapter Forty-Six

Chapter Forty-Seven

Chapter Forty-Eight

Chapter Forty-Nine

Chapter Fifty

Chapter Fifty-One

Chapter Fifty-Two

Chapter Fifty-Three

Chapter Fifty-Four

Chapter Fifty-Five

Chapter Fifty-Six

Chapter Fifty-Seven

Chapter Fifty-Eight

Chapter Fifty-Nine

Chapter Sixty

Chapter Sixty-One

Chapter Sixty-Two

Chapter Sixty-Three

Chapter Sixty-Four

Chapter Sixty-Five

Chapter Sixty-Six

Chapter Sixty-Seven

Chapter Sixty-Eight

Chapter Sixty-Nine

Chapter Seventy

Chapter Seventy-One

Chapter Seventy-Two

Chapter Seventy-Three

Chapter Seventy-Four

Chapter Seventy-Five

Chapter Seventy-Six

Chapter Seventy-Seven

Chapter Seventy-Eight

Chapter Seventy-Nine

Chapter Eighty

Acknowledgments

Author Note

Read More

About the Author

Also by Mel Sherratt

About the Publisher

March 2017

George Steele came out of The Potter’s, leaving the noise of the rowdy party still going on behind him. Outside, it was fresh, the hint of warmer weather around the corner.

It was nearing midnight as he began to walk home. He had planned on only having one more for the road, but that was two hours ago, and now he was struggling to stand up.

He wondered if Kathleen had left him anything to eat. He could murder something hot inside him. If she hadn’t, he would wake her. She could cook him something. He salivated at the thought of a bacon butty.

It was a short walk down a country lane and along a small path. Sober, it took him half as long as it did when he was legless. He snorted to himself as he stumbled to his right. It would take him all night, zigzagging the road as he was.

His phone beeped and he pulled it out of his pocket. He brought it near to his face, trying to see who was calling him, but he couldn’t read the screen, so he let it ring out. At this time of night, it would only be someone looking to cause trouble. He was sick and tired of people after a piece of him. Always wanting to fight with him, anger him, disrespect him. He couldn’t even rely on his useless sons to sort anything out. They just weren’t up to his standard when it came to what he expected of his family. And as for his silly daughter … He didn’t have the words for how pathetic she was.

He was at the path now, minutes from home. The house stood on four acres of land, the room he’d had so much fun with hidden away at the bottom of the garden. It had been passed down to him by his parents, the only thing they’d given him he’d ever been glad of. How he had hated his father and the time spent with him there, at the hands of a monster. Still, at least it meant he’d known how to get the best out of his own family too.

George didn’t hear a sound as someone crept up behind him. A crack to the head made him stumble forward. Another and he dropped to his knees. He turned around and was greeted with a whack in the face. Unable to see who it was in the dark, he tried to crawl away on all fours, but a kick to the stomach had him coughing. He held up a hand – each hit was followed by a pause.

‘Wait!’ he cried, catching his breath, sitting up on his haunches. ‘Whoever has sent you to do this, I’ll double your money.’ He winced in agony as pain pulsed through his body. ‘Because when I find out, be prepared to get a lot worse than you’re giving me now.’

A hit to the side of his face and colours exploded inside his head. He dropped to the floor again.

It took a few more blows before he realised his attacker wasn’t going to stop.

ONE
August 2018

Grace Allendale climbed the restaurant stairs to the first floor and slipped back to her seat at the table.

‘We’ve just placed our order,’ DC Sam Markham said, beaming at her. ‘Won’t be long now.’

Grace smiled back. It was Friday evening and everyone in Spice World was in high spirits. The clientele were letting off steam, catching up with friends and family. Grace would rather have ordered a takeaway and eaten alone at home, but needs must.

The restaurant was situated in the lower part of Hanley, around the corner from Bethesda Police Station, Grace’s new headquarters. From the outside the Victorian building looked weather-worn and, as they’d walked inside the curry house, she’d wondered what she was letting herself in for.

But it had been a pleasant surprise to find a warm and modern atmosphere. There were tables full of diners spread out over the ground floor, and a grand staircase leading upstairs to many more. The music playing in the background was modern rock, not too intrusive, yet loud enough to be heard over the friendly banter of people out enjoying themselves.

This was the first time Grace had met her work colleagues since she’d got her new job as detective sergeant, a promotion from her former role in Salford. Grace had lived there for the past twenty-three years. She’d joined the police force after leaving university and had worked as a police constable before transferring to Major Crimes as a detective. She’d been quite settled in that role for several years, but when things took a tumble in her private life, she’d decided that she needed a new goal to aim for.

Having taken her detective sergeant’s exam last year, when a post had come up in her birthplace of Stoke-on-Trent, she decided to put in for it. She needed a change, somewhere she could start afresh, even though she wasn’t quite sure it was a good decision to come back to the town from which she and her mum had fled all those years ago. But circumstances were different now. The man who had caused them so much pain was no longer around.

After she’d been offered the job, Grace had got an invite to join the team for a night out before her start date on Monday. There was only one officer who hadn’t been able to make it, someone called Alex Challinor, who had a previous engagement he couldn’t get out of, although no one had enlightened her as to what it was.

Around her, her new colleagues were sharing some in-joke. Then suddenly Nick Carter, their DI, stopped laughing and turned to her.

‘Sorry, we’re ignoring you. You say you lived in Stoke when you were younger, Grace?’ he asked.

All eyes fell on her. ‘Yes, until I was twelve,’ she replied. ‘Then my parents divorced and I moved to Salford with my mum.’

‘So, you don’t have many memories?’ DC Perry Wright asked.

‘I have a few,’ Grace nodded. She could remember far more than she would ever share with them. The nights she’d heard her mum screaming as her father laid into her. The times there was no money for food because he’d spent it all in the pub. The days when he would go missing and be brought home by the police after being locked up in a cell. The weeks he spent with other women before fighting his way back into their house again. The double life he led that she knew nothing of until she was old enough to understand … ‘But I expect so much has changed since then, anyway,’ she added.

‘Not much to write home about,’ Sam giggled. ‘But we still love it. And you’ll soon know the place, and its people. Even the undesirables.’

Nick raised his glass in the air. ‘Welcome to the Major Crimes Team.’

Everyone joined Nick in a toast. Only Perry, sitting opposite her, didn’t lift his eyes to hers as well. He hadn’t joined in the conversation much either, she’d noticed.

The door to the restaurant opened and several men came in at once. From her first-floor position, Grace looked down at the newcomers as their laughter filled the room, booming, loud and boisterous. She counted four of them, all casually dressed in shirts and jeans; lean, with biceps and quads looking fit to burst through their clothes. A waiter rushed across to them and they were quickly seated, despite the busyness of the room.

As she turned back to her group, Grace noticed the atmosphere at their table had changed.

‘Seriously?’ Perry sighed. ‘Can’t we have one night out without it being a busman’s holiday?’

‘They might not see us up here,’ Nick said.

‘What’s wrong?’ Grace asked, realising she had a bird’s-eye view from her seat at the end of the table. Nick had his back to the group.

‘Meet part of the Steele family and some of their cronies.’ Sam nodded her head in the direction of the men. ‘They like to think they’re untouchable.’

‘They own Steele’s Gym in Baddeley Green,’ Nick informed her. ‘It’s got a boxing club attached to it as well.’

‘So, it’s a legit establishment?’ Grace questioned, trying to keep her voice calm and professional.

‘Let’s say it isn’t just a place where you can go for a workout,’ Nick explained. ‘The Steeles are one of our local crime families. Their father, George, was murdered last year; his killer’s still at large.’

Grace dropped her eyes momentarily, feeling her cheeks burn at the mention of that name, but none of the others seemed to notice. She’d read that George Steele had last been seen leaving his local pub just before midnight on March fifteenth the previous year. His family had reported him missing the next day, and he’d been found a few hours later on a shortcut through to his home. He’d been beaten to death. A thorough investigation had given the police no leads. Now it had been assigned to Alex Challinor, her absent colleague, to work on if anything new came to light.

‘There are two sons and a daughter.’ Nick looked at Grace. ‘Eddie is the one on the right. He’s the eldest brother.’

Grace looked down through the glass balustrade to see a man of about thirty-seven reading a menu before slapping it on the table and glancing around the room. She dropped her eyes for a moment.

‘The one sitting opposite him is Leon. He’s a couple of years younger.’

Grace focused on Eddie’s brother, an almost identical version of him. If she hadn’t known better, she might have thought they were twins. Both had dark brown hair and were well groomed – attractive in their own rough-around-the-edges way.

‘There’s a sister, too. Jade. She runs a nail bar in the gym with their mother, Kathleen,’ Perry added.

‘Testosterone aplenty.’ Sam let out a long sigh. ‘Maybe they’ll be fine once they get some food.’

Nick sat up straight as three waiters walked towards their table. ‘Speaking of which, here comes our order.’

Grace placed her napkin on her lap. As she dished rice on to her plate, she heard a squeal and looked downstairs. Leon Steele had seized a waitress who was walking past, pulling her onto his knee.

‘Hey,’ the woman protested, trying to get back to her feet, but he held on to her. She squirmed as he whispered something in her ear. As the group burst into loud jeers again, all heads in the restaurant turned towards them. Grace groaned inwardly. She was hoping to have more time to get to know her work colleagues before this happened.

Perry removed his napkin from his lap and made to stand up. But Nick held him back.

‘Let’s just see if it calms down,’ Nick said as restaurant staff rushed over. ‘It’s going to get a lot more troublesome and ruin many people’s nights if we wade in.’

Grace watched as Leon released the woman and held up his arms in surrender. ‘Only having a bit of fun,’ he shouted to the room as the waitress scuttled off.

‘I hate how they think they own the place.’ Perry scowled as he looked down at his food. ‘Meanwhile we sit back and let it happen.’

‘This is a night out, not a team briefing,’ Nick chided. ‘And for now they haven’t seen us, so let’s just leave it like that.’

Eddie Steele’s gaze rose up and Grace dropped her eyes immediately. When she looked again seconds later, he was staring her way. Their eyes locked for a moment, as if they were the only two people in the room, before Grace lowered hers once more.

She couldn’t hold her tongue. It wasn’t what she’d intended but she might as well come clean now. Really, was there any other way than to tell her work colleagues the truth?

Grace turned to the group and put her glass down heavily on the table, enough to get everyone’s attention but not to cause too much of a fuss so that everyone else looked their way.

‘You wanted to know all about me?’ She looked at each one of them in turn, knowing that, once she’d said the next few words, everything was going to become a whole lot harder.

‘They already know!’ Nick intervened.

Grace tried to stop a frown forming on her face.

‘I told them about Matt.’ Nick shook his head. ‘I’m sorry; I thought it would make things easier for you. I know how much you need a fresh start.’

‘Yeah, we’re all here for you,’ Sam said. ‘It must be really hard to deal with.’

Grace gave a faint smile. Nick stared at her. She could almost sense his thoughts, telling her to stay silent.

She didn’t want him to lie for her. She wanted to be honest upfront. But it was clear from the look in Nick’s eye that she needed to keep quiet.

She couldn’t tell anyone that Eddie and Leon Steele were her half-brothers. And George Steele, criminal, racketeer and murder victim, had been her father.

TWO
September 2018
TUESDAY – DAY 1

Josh Parker pushed up the weight with a long and loud groan. His shift had finished half an hour ago, the same time Steele’s Gym had closed, but he liked to stay behind to do his own workout.

It was half past ten in the evening and no one else was around. The clank of the hand weights as he put them back into the stand seemed to echo round the large room.

He’d worked at Steele’s Gym since it had opened in 2006. On the outside, it was a standard gym, with a boxing club and a nail bar that was more often than not manned by Clara, the receptionist. The establishment purposely had no airs and graces, which suited most of their clients.

On the inside, behind the scenes, money was the tool. Cash was loaned to anyone who was desperate and couldn’t get it elsewhere, and paid back with crippling percentage rates. Beatings were rife if money wasn’t delivered on time and had to be collected. The monthly parties that they’d recently set up were working a treat to bring in extra too. It was something that Eddie Steele didn’t like, but the money they were raking in each time was not to be sniffed at.

Josh knew the police were keeping an eye on him and the Steeles, as were the family they were rivals with, the Woodmans. They too were watching their enemies. Eddie had asked Josh in particular to pay attention to what was going on, even though Leon thought he was looking after the gym.

He clasped his hands together in front of his body and flexed his biceps. They almost seemed to pop out of his skin and he smiled at himself in the mirror.

‘Looking good,’ he said quietly. ‘Looking good.’

A noise made him turn his head. He thought he’d heard a door open and he listened for a moment. But there was nothing else, so he went back to admiring himself.

Peace and quiet meant that he could pay attention during his workout. Music blaring through the day, the thump of the treadmills, the whining of the rowers, plus the banter from the clients all faded away once he was on his own. There were mirrors all around that he could look at without fear of being called narcissistic. He was vain, he admitted freely, but in this job it paid to look good. Working for Eddie Steele, it was expected.

He pushed the barbell above his head, glancing at a photo beside him on the wall. He and Eddie were fourteen and wearing boxing gloves, arms around each other’s shoulders after fighting in the ring. Eddie had always been victorious in everything he did. He had a vicious streak Josh couldn’t match, no matter how hard he tried.

Josh had known the Steele family since he was at junior school. He and Eddie had been in the same class and had gelled during a PE session when Eddie had legged someone over for tackling the football from him. A fight had ensued and Josh managed to break it up after the teacher had blown his whistle. As he pulled the boy up, a swift thump in the stomach when the teacher wasn’t looking ensured that he and Eddie clicked.

And it wasn’t just he and Eddie who had got close. Eddie’s sister, Jade, had been the local sleep-around for years beyond school. At thirty-two now, she was the youngest of the three Steeles. Josh had spent a year with her himself in his early twenties, before realising his anger and temper would be better served to superior uses. Jade knew exactly how to wind him up. It was as if she goaded him deliberately. And because she was a Steele, the fact that he couldn’t slap her around if she proved a threat to anything he was doing didn’t sit well with him. He and Eddie had their fingers in lots of pies back then, long before the gym opened, and he wasn’t up to losing that.

If it weren’t for Josh Parker, Leon would be second-in-command. Josh knew that Leon hated this and there was no love lost between them. Much to Josh’s annoyance, Eddie had always bailed Leon out of trouble, and since they were teens, Leon had wanted in with everything they did. Josh hadn’t liked it, yet he’d put up with it, biding his time over the years before Leon could be taken out of the equation altogether. But now, Leon was stronger than ever, even though he was still only the younger brother.

Josh had tried on many occasions to land Leon in trouble with the law so that he’d be booted off to prison for a few years, allowing Josh to get his claws into the family business. There was so much up for grabs, and he wanted it. He’d earned it. And it was time he got what he was owed.

After a post-workout shower, Josh switched off the lights and locked up the building. Walking around to the back of the car park, he clicked off the alarm as he drew level with his car. The lights flashed yellow and he opened the boot and put in his gym bag. But as he closed it, he jumped as a figure appeared at the side of the car.

‘What do you want?’ he asked, rolling his eyes.

Out of nowhere, something was sprayed in his face. He squeezed his eyes shut as they began to burn.

‘What the …?’

Josh put his hands to his face and staggered. More liquid was thrown on him. Then the smell of burning flesh was all around him as he dropped to his knees.

Crying out, he writhed on the ground. Some bastard had thrown acid at him. It was going to ruin his face! Fear coursed through him, tears were too painful to form. In desperation, he rolled over, trying to dampen his hands on the tarmac, wet from a recent thunderstorm.

He could hear nothing but his own screams as his skin fell from the backs of his hands. Breathing heavily, he tried to listen, to see if his attacker was still there. Was there anyone near him now? He pulled a hand away from his face, but pain ripped through him again and he cried out. It was as if his skin had shrunk, stretching like torn cling film.

Time seemed to slow as the burns went deeper. Then, he felt a hand on his shoulder and he was pulled over onto his back. Someone straddled him.

He couldn’t open his eyes. He couldn’t even hold out a hand in defence. All he could do was shout.

In silence, his attacker raised a knife high in the air.

THREE
WEDNESDAY – DAY 2

Grace slowed down to catch her breath, and her run became a jog.

The house she was renting was around five miles from Bethesda Police Station, depending on which road you took, in a part of the city called Weston Coyney. Caverswall Avenue was just through a set of busy traffic lights and near to Park Hall Country Park.

The house was a pre-war semi, tucked away at the top of a cul-de-sac. Phil and Becky Armstrong, who lived next door, had been relieved to see her moving in, telling her in much detail about the rowdy family who had been evicted. It explained why it was clean and recently decorated, with a newly fitted kitchen and bathroom. Everything had been trashed before the last tenants had left.

Making sure the sound of the machine couldn’t be heard through the walls of the adjoining house was the first thing Grace had checked with her neighbours. There was nothing worse than the drone and pounding of a treadmill, especially in the early hours of the morning. Luckily, she had space for it at the back of the house in the small conservatory, and the couple told her they couldn’t hear anything. They said they didn’t mind a bit of noise here and there after what they’d had to live with for the past six months.

She glanced at her watch: 5.35 a.m. Today’s date had played heavily on her mind for the past few days. It was surprising she’d got any sleep really. But she had forced herself to read on her Kindle until she’d drifted off.

It was in the early hours that she’d woken up covered in a layer of sweat and sat up in bed. She could feel tears on her face; she hadn’t cried in her sleep for a long time. She’d reached for the pillow on the empty side of the bed and let her tears continue.

The day had hardly begun and yet she was already dreading seeing the date on any paperwork she’d have to complete. September twelfth. Five years to the day that her life had changed forever.

In early 2013 she’d had a healthy husband who loved running with her and playing football every weekend. But shortly after his birthday in July, his weight began to drop a little, and it became difficult for him to shake off any minor bugs. His energy levels plummeted and, after a blood test at the doctor’s, he’d been fast-tracked to the hospital as a matter of urgency.

Five years ago to the day, they had found out he had acute myeloid leukaemia. The consultant had spent an hour with them going through what could be done. It was curable and correctable with chemotherapy, but there was no possible way of knowing whether, even if they cleared it this time, it wouldn’t come back. It had – three times in total – and he’d lost his fight in 2016.

Grace ran faster to stop images pushing themselves to the forefront of her mind. Matt had been thirty-two when he was diagnosed; she had recently turned thirty; and they were both in the prime of their lives. It had been heartbreaking to see her soulmate waste away.

She recalled the night he’d frightened them when he’d started to throw up and all this black stuff had come up, making Grace retch too. She could clearly remember the time he’d punched the wall in anger and then wept in her arms at the injustice of having to leave her behind. The times she’d administered his drugs because he’d been too tired to get out of bed. And that one moment when he had begged her to kill him, to put him out of his misery, would be forever etched on her heart.

She’d never had herself down as a nurse, but that’s what she’d become during his last few months, until he was unable to be cared for at home and was admitted to a local hospice. She hadn’t told anyone, but it had made it better for her. She had someone to watch over him all the time she wasn’t there. She didn’t want to be his carer – she wanted to be his wife.

Now, she hated not having to think for two people any more. Holidays, get-togethers, even the food shopping – when she did any – was all for her. It still took a lot of getting used to. Losing her mum as well, less than twelve months after, had almost taken her over the edge.

After a few more seconds, she switched the speed up on the machine. She pushed herself further and further, faster and faster, until eventually she had no choice but to stop.

In the kitchen, Matt’s smile stared back at her as she grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. She closed the door and ran a finger over his image. The photo had been taken before the disease had made him into a skeleton with no hair. Here he was healthy, eyes shining with no bags underneath them, glowing skin and a ferocious appetite for life. After two years, the memories of him at the height of his debilitation had faded and this was how she remembered him now.

She moved to the kitchen window. It looked like another nice day ahead, clear blue skies and warmer-than-average temperatures. How she wished there weren’t dark clouds hanging over her. You shouldn’t dwell on the past, her mum used to say to her, but it was far easier said than done when the past had taken away a planned future.

Two hours later, showered and energised but still feeling emotional, she closed the door to the side of her that she didn’t want people to see and headed to work.

FOUR

Bethesda Police Station was situated in the street of the same name, at the bottom of the city centre. Before 1910, Stoke-on-Trent was made up of six towns. It became a federated city with a merger in that year, Hanley then becoming the main shopping centre of the Potteries.

Grace had already been told by several disgruntled members of the public that Hanley was not, and never would be, Stoke-on-Trent’s city centre as it was known on signposts. Stoke was the centre, it was where the railway station was situated and where the civic centre had been until recently. But to her, Stoke was a drive-through town with a few roads. It seemed that most of the money and resources were focused on Hanley, which was great for where she was based. Some areas had been pedestrianised, making them feel safer and a pleasure to walk around, perhaps sit in to have a sandwich during a work break. At night, like most cities of its size, it had its problems with the homeless and drunk and disorderly. Violence was often rife at kicking-out times, but for the most part it boasted a good vibe.

Coming back had been quite an eye-opener for her. Of course, she didn’t remember much of the city at the age of twelve, but after working for such a large force as Greater Manchester, policing areas in Stoke was a far easier way to learn of the local goings-on. Even after just a few weeks, Grace already had the lay of the land. And she had the previous detective sergeant, Allie Shenton, at her disposal. The woman was a fount of all knowledge, having already helped her out quite a few times with intel.

Filling her shoes was a big ask. She’d met with Allie the week after starting her position. Allie had recently taken up a new role as Community Inspector, heading up six community neighbourhood teams, one in each region of the city. During the meeting, Allie had told Grace about her work colleagues, some of the people she’d meet on her patch and some of the ones she’d want to avoid.

It had been an easy meet, lots of polite chat, but Grace had been thankful for an insight into what she had let herself in for. She had thought long and hard about returning to Stoke and Allie had made it a little better for her. Secretly, Grace realised that Allie was keeping an eye on what was going on at the station. It must be hard to let go after so long working in the same place. But equally, Grace had begun to look at her as a mentor. Allie hadn’t minded when she’d questioned her further about a number of subjects and people.

Grace’s first month in the role had been a quiet one spent with her team of three detective constables, getting to know the community and feel of the areas and also some of its inhabitants. The team were on the first of three floors of the station, along with several soft interview suites and also an area where civvy staff worked. Back in Manchester, Grace had been in a building that was in desperate need of refurbishment, both inside and out. Its layout had meant that she’d been in a room not even big enough to call a cupboard, with a team of four other officers. Here it was open-plan, with about thirty desks, all new, swanky even – although the kitchen was still a health risk with all the leftover food and dirty dishes lying around.

She smiled her thanks when a mug of coffee was plonked down on her desk, her ‘Wonder Woman’ mug a joke present from Matt just before he’d died. Across from her on the opposite desk, Sam Markham sat down with her own drink and clicked her mouse to wake up her computer. Grace now knew she was thirty-seven, living with her partner, Craig, and her six-year-old daughter, Emily, from a previous marriage. Sam was small in build with dimples in her cheeks and wore her long blonde hair mostly tied up in a ponytail, making her look even more baby-faced. But Allie had told her, ‘Don’t let Sam fool you. She’s more than capable of holding her own when necessary.’

Down the room, she could just about see Nick squashed into his tiny partitioned office. An active man in his mid-fifties, he’d mentioned in small talk as he’d got to know her that his wife, Sharon, was begging him to take early retirement. But he enjoyed his job as detective inspector and wanted to stay working for the force because it kept his mind active. He was six foot three and ran several times a week to keep his middle-age spread at bay.

On her first day, as he’d shown her around the building, Nick had mentioned that the DCI thought it best Grace kept quiet about her connection to the Steele family for now. She had asked why but they had been interrupted when a man had walked past who he wanted to introduce her to. Nick hadn’t picked up the conversation again afterwards. She’d wondered why, reasoned perhaps he had his own motives, which she would find out in time.

Nick’s phone rang, and a rush of adrenaline flowed through Grace as she watched him stand up, beckoning her over quickly before putting it down with a bang.

‘I thought you might want a heads-up. Call’s just come in about a body found at Steele’s Gym,’ Nick told her.

Grace groaned inwardly.

‘Someone’s been attacked with acid and then stabbed in the car park. Josh Parker’s car is there.’

‘Josh Parker?’

‘He’s Eddie Steele’s right-hand man.’

‘Ah.’ Grace watched him leave the room.

When she stayed where she was, Nick turned back to her. ‘Are you coming?’

‘Is that wise, sir?’

‘I don’t know but I can’t see another sergeant spare at the moment.’

Grace tried not to let her expression give away her alarm as she followed behind him. Surely her first possible murder investigation wasn’t going to be on family soil?

FIVE

Grace wiped her sweaty palms discreetly on her trousers as Nick nudged the car up onto the pavement to park outside the crime scene. Situated on Leek Road, two miles from the city centre, Steele’s Gym stood back from the road in a prime position. Once housing a preschool nursery, it was a single-storey building spread on an acre of land, with a car park to its right. According to Sam, the local authority register for business rates stated that Eddie Steele had been renting it since 2006. A large canvas banner hung on the wrought-iron railings at her side. ‘No pain, no gain. All-in monthly passes only £40.’ She doubted that would tempt anyone in today. They’d be more interested in what was going on outside in the car park.

‘Good to go?’ Nick asked her.

Grace looked back, unaware he had been watching her as she stared out of the window. ‘I’m not sure I will ever be ready for this.’

‘Just keep your calm. If they say anything, I’ll handle it accordingly.’

She released her seat belt and got out of the car, joining DC Perry Wright who had parked in front of them. Grace had warmed to Sam but not so much to Perry. He had turned forty the year before; she’d learned he had been married to his wife, Lisa, for thirteen years and recently become a father to Alfie, who was three months old. Just like Nick, his blond hair was shaven close to his head to hide his receding hairline. Allie Shenton said he’d either be nice from the get-go as he was that type of person, or be aloof – not only because he’d known and worked with Allie for such a long time, but because he’d put in for the job of detective sergeant and Grace had beaten him to it.

Even though it was still early in the morning, sweat clung to her back. Despite her anxieties, it was too warm to be wearing the jacket to her trouser suit, but she didn’t feel dressed without it, especially meeting new people. First appearances still counted in her eyes.

Across the main road, a crowd was already gathering in front of a row of terraced properties. As traffic zoomed by, three dogs sat patiently at their owners’ feet, their morning outings either interrupted or lengthened. Two residents stood in their doorways holding mugs, chatting to themselves. Grace could almost hear them saying, ‘Things like this don’t happen on our doorstep.’ It was the one thing she heard all the time, as if no one was allowed to bring ill repute to their part of the neighbourhood.

Her heels clicked on the pavement as she walked in silence with Nick and Perry towards the entrance gates. The crime scene had been cordoned off with police tape; all around them people worked. A police constable stood guarding the scene, writing down the names of people entering, checking IDs and pointing out where to go. There were several uniformed officers taking notes, and she saw one directing the traffic as it struggled to get past the row of police vehicles parked half on and off the kerb.

Ahead of them, she could see a small car with the logo of the local newspaper splashed across its side and wondered what their staff were like to work with. She’d prided herself in getting on well with the local newspaper’s press team in Salford.

She, Nick and Perry each flashed their warrant cards. The crime scene tape was lifted and they dipped underneath it. They popped on white paper suits, latex gloves and covers over their footwear. Even though she was slim and toned, with a six-pack hidden underneath her shirt, the suit always made Grace feel as shapely as a hastily rolled snowman.

She tied back her long dark hair with a covered elastic band and placed a mask around her neck in readiness. Once she had it on, it would hide lips that had almost forgotten how to smile widely, but her eyes would still be seen. Grace knew you could tell so much by looking in people’s eyes. Her own were brown and large, with long lashes that she accentuated with mascara and sculptured eyebrows. They were her best feature – when she was happy. For now, they were skittish, glancing around, trying to take everything in.

As Nick went off to speak to a uniformed officer, Grace took a deep breath, held her head high and walked forward. A white tent had been erected around the spot where the body lay. Forensic officers already in situ were suited and booted too.

‘Do you get a lot of acid attacks in Stoke?’ Grace asked Perry as they walked.

‘Not many at all. I think the last one was some time last year.’

‘And someone from the gym called this in, you say?’

Perry nodded his head in the direction of a man in his early twenties wearing a red tracksuit at the far end of the car park. He was giving details to a police constable, talking energetically and waving his hands.

‘Trent Gibson. He was the first on shift. The gym opens at seven and he found the body in the car park about ten minutes before.’ Perry pointed to a black BMW where another forensic officer was going over it. ‘That’s Parker’s car. Not sure why that wasn’t burnt out to hide evidence. Doesn’t make sense.’

‘Well, it all seems to have been done for show, rather than someone trying to cover it up.’ Grace turned back from checking out Gibson. ‘I know we can’t confirm the body until we have positive ID, but maybe our suspect thought it would prove who our victim was a little quicker?’

They reached the entrance to the tent and, after flicking the mask on, Grace stepped inside. She still put a hand to her mouth, trying to stop her instant gag reflex as her eyes fell on the seared face and hands of their victim. He was wearing gym wear, shorts and a short-sleeved T-shirt due to the weather being unseasonably warm. Splashes of accelerant had burnt holes in the material.

There were several people dotted around the crime scene. A forensic photographer was clicking away next to a man hunched over the body. His stooped position meant Grace couldn’t see his frame, but she guessed him to be tall, perhaps early forties. He pushed up his glasses and smiled at her.

‘Dave Barnett. Senior CSI, as I’m known as now since a nifty title change.’

‘Grace Allendale.’ She smiled back, even though he wouldn’t be able to see it behind her mask. ‘DS.’

‘Yes, I know. Big boots to fill, but nice to meet you.’

‘Do you have an approximate time of death yet?’ Grace stooped down, repulsed but fascinated by the body at the same time. Even in her line of work, it never failed to amaze her what one human being was capable of doing to another.

‘I’d say he died between ten p.m. and midnight last night. His face is a mess, but he has some quite distinctive tattoos on his biceps. He has recent dates and names of two people. Caleb and Mia.’ Dave pointed at the body.

Perry gagged behind his mask and Grace hid a smirk. She already liked Dave Barnett.

‘I’m not certain of cause of death yet, although it won’t be because of the obvious.’ Dave pointed to the body. ‘But with the single stab wound to the chest as well, it looks like someone wanted to make sure he was dead.’

Having left the CSIs to do their job, Grace removed her mask and suit outside the tent. As she did so, she spotted a man waving for their attention. A leather satchel large enough to hold files or a laptop hung over his shoulder.

‘Ah, come and meet Simon. Local press.’ Perry placed the last of his protective gear into an evidence bag. ‘What are you loitering round for?’ he asked once he and Grace drew level with him.

‘I wanted to know if you have anything for me?’ the man responded, running his hand through blond, short, choppy hair as he caught Grace’s eye. Close up, he reminded her of Callum Best, the celebrity. A cheeky-chappy sort who wouldn’t look out of place if he came out with rhyming cockney slang or did a jig around a chimney up on a roof. He was dressed in a short-sleeved shirt with a navy tie that matched the colour of his trousers.

Perry shook his head. ‘Nothing yet.’ He looked at Grace. ‘This is the legendary Simon Cole, senior crime reporter for the Stoke News.’

Simon laughed as he offered his hand to her and she shook it. ‘Pleased to meet you.’

‘Likewise.’

‘Can you confirm it’s Josh Parker?’ he asked, looking at them both in turn.

‘Where did you get that name from?’ Perry narrowed his eyes.

‘It’s the word on da street.’ Simon put on a voice and grinned. ‘Is it true? Can you tell me?’

Grace shook her head.

‘Can you confirm it’s murder then?’ Simon looked at her with pleading eyes.

‘We’re looking into all possibilities at the moment,’ Grace replied.

Perry smirked.

‘So you have nothing for me?’ Simon glanced at Perry.

‘No,’ Perry said. ‘You’ll be the first to know when we do, though.’

Simon sighed. ‘I suppose I’ll go and talk to the public while I wait.’

Grace could see he was reluctant to leave. She guessed his reporter’s nose was twitching, but his manner was warm, in contrast to that of a few of the journalists she’d dealt with over the years.

‘How’s everything going with Natalie?’ Perry asked Simon. ‘Things still bitter?’

‘She’s taking me for every penny.’ Simon rolled his eyes. ‘Which would be annoying if either of us had any decent money.’

‘He got shafted for a younger model,’ Perry explained to Grace.

‘You make me sound like a car,’ Simon protested.

‘She walked all over him,’ Perry added.

‘I know, I know.’ Simon nodded. ‘I can’t help being so nice.’

Grace saw how blue his eyes were as they crinkled up. Sincere too, which she didn’t see very often.

‘I’d best be off to do my job.’ Simon pointed to the residents across the street.

Grace noticed him blushing and gave him a shy smile. She turned to Perry once he’d gone. ‘So, tattoos and the car make me feel confident Josh Parker is our victim, but we won’t be allowed to release this information until we have a confirmed ID. Nick has gone to inform his wife, even though she can’t see the body yet. For now, let’s look at the CCTV footage and …’ Grace stopped talking when she saw he wasn’t listening. His eyes were trained over her shoulder.

A shiver of dread passed through her as she turned her head in the direction Perry was looking. Marching towards them were two men and a woman. The two men she recognised from Spice World the month before.

The woman shared the same hair and skin colouring as Grace. And, like Grace, she had long legs with a slim build.

‘Well, well, well.’ Eddie Steele was the first to speak, removing his sunglasses.

Grace swallowed as she brought herself tall to face her half-brothers and half-sister.

SIX

The situation was surreal. This was never how Grace had intended to meet her family. But then again, she hadn’t expected the first murder case she worked on here in Stoke-on-Trent to be so close to home.

It was hard to speak in such close proximity to them. Although they had never met, Grace wondered if they knew as much about her as she knew about them. Her mum, Martha, had certainly suggested that. She had also told Grace that Eddie was two years older than her, that she was two months younger than Leon and had a half-sister three years younger. Their father, George, had been sleeping with both her mother and theirs at the same time, for a number of years, leading a double life.

Aware they were all looking at her, Grace stepped forward, but still she said nothing.

Eddie turned to Perry. ‘I suppose you’ll be wanting to speak to us?’

Perry nodded. ‘We need to find out your whereabouts last night. General questions for now. This is DS Allendale.’

‘Hello.’ Grace held out her hand to Eddie. His grip was as firm as her own.

‘Leon’ – Eddie pointed to his brother – ‘and Jade’s our sister.’

Grace shook both their hands in quick succession, worrying in case any of them revealed they already knew of each other. The resemblance between her and Jade was so significant that she hoped Perry didn’t notice. She could almost see her own eyes staring back at her.

But more than that, it was the way Jade stood: on her right foot to the detriment of her left, similar to something Grace always did. And the way she smiled, the full shape of her lips. She wondered what their mother looked like; was she similar to Grace’s own? Martha Steele, née Benson, had been olive-skinned with dark brown hair and not an ounce of fat on her.

Grace took a deep breath and asserted herself once more. ‘I believe DC Wright knows you all, so if I can get on with the questioning, we can do the formal things later.’ She turned to Perry. ‘Can you go and talk to Trent Gibson?’

Perry frowned, but she waved him away politely. She wasn’t sure if the Steeles would blow her cover. On the one hand, it might be a good thing because then she wouldn’t feel so deceitful. But then again, she could be removed from the case and she didn’t want that either. ‘Tread carefully’ would have to be her motto for today.

She followed the siblings into a small and dimly lit hallway, its red carpeted flooring having seen better days. Walls were painted cream with the odd scuff mark. To the right was a door with a sign for toilets and changing rooms. Paint was peeling off the corner of the ceiling and the smell of artificial air-freshener lingered unpleasantly.

Grace looked around. She could see no security barriers, the kind accessed by a swipe card like the gym she used to be a member of in Salford, so there must be something else.

‘Is there a signing-in book?’ she asked.

‘Inside the main building,’ Eddie told her. ‘We have lockers too. Things have a habit of going walkabout unless we put them away, if you catch my drift.’ He pointed to a set of double swing doors. ‘Be careful, the swing might come back and hit you,’ he warned. ‘Don’t want to knock you out on your first visit.’

Grace forced a smile as he held the door open for her to walk through.

‘We’ll be saving that for the second time,’ he muttered.

She turned to him, seeing no friendliness in his features. Up so close, her resemblance to him was uncanny. More noticeably, Grace could see how much he looked like George Steele as she remembered him from around the time she and her mother had left. Eddie must be about the same age as her father had been back then. It unnerved her: this was going to be harder than she had imagined.

Once through the doors, the room opened out into a large area. To one side was an array of gym equipment around the outer wall. On the other was a boxing ring with several punchbags and weight benches around the side. Grace wondered why they weren’t separated. If she was working out, she wouldn’t want to see anyone punched to the floor, friendly or not. It would put her off completely.

‘And you say you only have the one establishment in the city?’ she asked Eddie.

‘That’s right.’

Walking inside Steele’s Gym made Grace realise why they hadn’t branched out across Stoke-on-Trent. Not everyone would like this set-up. It was intimidating, to say the least. Nick had mentioned that this wasn’t its only selling point. She hoped she could find out more about what was going on behind the scenes.

Eddie showed her into a smaller room on the right of the building. It had three doors leading off it. He pointed to the first on the left.

‘Come through into the office and we can discuss things further.’

SEVEN

It was a tight fit to squeeze everyone in. The room held a desk and computer, a filing cabinet with paperwork piled on its top and a small settee squashed in front of an opaque-glass window. Leon and Jade sat down on that, while Eddie went behind the desk.

Grace cleared her throat as they all looked at her, once again waiting for her to speak first. The atmosphere was loaded, but she wanted everyone to know that today was about Josh Parker, not anyone else’s grievances.

‘First of all, let’s get this over and done with,’ she started. ‘Any questions about why I am back are really none of anyone’s business but my own. I’m sorry to hear of your father’s death but I come here representing Staffordshire Police.’

‘As if we’re interested in anything that brings you here,’ Eddie snapped. ‘Your lot weren’t in the slightest bit concerned when our father was murdered.’

‘I doubt that is true,’ she interjected, her tone firm, before turning to the matter in hand. ‘Is there an overall manager or is it a joint effort?’

‘It’s a family-run business,’ he said. ‘Leon, alongside Josh, looks after the general running of the gym and the boxing club. Jade and our mum run Posh Gloss, and I oversee the finances and day-to-day running of everything. Has someone gone to tell Christa, Josh’s wife?’

Grace nodded. ‘We will need her to make a positive identification of the body. Can you take me through what would have happened at closing time yesterday?’

‘Josh was on duty with two other trainers until the gym closed at ten p.m. He usually stays behind to do his own workout then, so my guess is he was in the building for about an hour.’

‘Are your staff left to work alone?’ Grace frowned. ‘Haven’t you heard of the lone worker policy?’

‘You’ve seen the size of Josh Parker?’ Eddie scoffed as he pointed to a photo on the wall behind them.

Grace turned to see a recent image of Eddie, his arms around their as-yet-unconfirmed victim, who was built like the proverbial brick house. From the photo, she plainly recognised him as one of the men she had seen at Spice World on the night out with her team last month. Parker was tanned with shorn hair, a huge smile revealing a gold tooth. He was wearing a tight black T-shirt that was clearly a size too small and showed every curve of a torso that Grace had to admit was impressive. An image of a cartoon character flashed in front of her eyes as she noted his square chin. And no, she wouldn’t want to mess with him. Josh’s killer must have some guts. Imagine if it had gone wrong.

‘He was taken by surprise for someone to do that to him,’ Eddie added. ‘And it was outside the building, so don’t come all high and mighty with the lone worker policy thing. We look after our staff here. We always look after our own.’

She pulled her shoulders up that little bit higher, trying not to show how intimidated she felt.

‘So Mr Parker was the last one to leave the building?’ Grace started her questioning again.

‘We didn’t murder him, if that’s what you’re implying,’ Leon almost growled at her.

‘Was Josh the last one in the building?’ Grace repeated, ignoring his sarcasm.

‘I expect so,’ Eddie replied.

‘We’ll need access to any security footage you have, inside and out.’

‘We have a camera that covers the reception area but not the gym itself.’ Eddie went over to a machine, pulled out a CD and handed it to Grace. ‘And outside we have a camera on each corner of the building, but it doesn’t cover all of the car park at the back.’

Grace raised her eyebrows. It all seemed pretty convenient. And if their suspect knew this, he or she might have known where to carry out the attack with less likelihood of being seen.

‘You mentioned a signing-in book,’ she said. ‘Can you get me a list of everyone who was in the building yesterday evening – say, from six p.m. onwards? Staff, customers and guests, please.’

Eddie sat forward. ‘There’ll be around a hundred people in here during that time. It’s our busiest period.’

Leon whistled under his breath. ‘That’s a lot of people to question.’ He folded his arms and stared at Grace.

Just as she’d thought when she’d first seen them the month before, Leon was so much like Eddie that he could pass as his twin. If it hadn’t been for the faint two-inch scar visible to the side of his right eye, they might even have been able to use each other as alibis.

She had a feeling over the coming days she would get to know them regardless. Once the investigation was going at full steam, they would be sick of the sight of her and the rest of the team, who were probably already here by now.

Grace ignored Leon again, choosing to look at Jade who hadn’t said a word yet. She was crying, soft sobs and tears pouring down her face.

‘Are you okay?’ she asked.

Jade nodded. ‘It’s such a shock, that’s all. I was only talking to him on Monday. It doesn’t seem possible.’ She blew her nose loudly.

‘What time did you all leave last night?’ Grace glanced at each one of them in turn.

‘Half past six,’ Eddie said.

‘Did you go straight home?’

‘Yes. My son can vouch for me. I took him to football training at seven.’

‘I wasn’t here yesterday,’ Jade said.

Grace looked at Leon. ‘What about you?’ she asked when he didn’t come forward with anything.

‘I’d say about eightish.’

‘I’d say be more specific.’ Grace’s voice was just as curt as his.

Leon sighed. ‘It was about ten past eight.’

Grace nodded and then turned back to Eddie. ‘I was also told that Josh was your right-hand man?’

Eddie’s glare alarmed her slightly and her left eye began to twitch under the strain of it. But she didn’t want to look away. She wanted to see if grief was washing over him. She was watching them all to see if their reactions were real or put on especially for her.

Eddie swallowed. ‘He was my best friend. I’d known him since junior school.’

‘You all knew him well, I presume?’ Grace looked at the others.

‘Yes,’ Jade said before wiping her nose loudly.

‘You might have known him too,’ Leon taunted.

‘I didn’t go to your school. I would have remembered that.’ Embarrassed by the reference, Grace looked at her notepad again. ‘Do you know of anyone who might have wanted to harm Josh?’ she asked no one in particular.

‘Probably half of Stoke at one time or another.’ Leon folded his arms. ‘But no one would have messed with him if they’d seen him before he was toast.’

‘Leon!’ Jade’s sobs grew louder.

‘Sorry.’ Leon had the manners to bow his head for a moment. ‘Bit of a bitch, though. Tough to lose him.’

The room dropped into silence again as they remembered their friend. Grace took the opportunity to get out her contact cards and hand them round.

‘Is this for when we go out for a family meal?’ Leon took one from her.

‘Show some respect, Leon,’ Eddie warned.

‘I think I’ve given her enough of that already’ – Leon folded his arms – ‘so don’t tell me what to do.’

Surprised by the reference to their connection to her, Grace was desperate to get out of there and rejoin her colleagues. But she had to have her say first.

‘I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t tell my colleagues how we know each other.’ She paused for a moment. ‘I think it’s best that we investigate Josh’s murder without any hindrance.’

‘Better the devil you know, and all that?’ Eddie smirked. Leon and Jade both opened their mouths to speak, but he held up a hand and shook his head.

‘I’ll find out who is overseeing the house-to-house enquiries and ask them to keep you informed of anything that comes up while we continue with our investigations,’ Grace added. ‘We’ll be in touch shortly.’

Once outside the room, Grace breathed a sigh of relief. It had surprised her that they’d accepted her request to keep her identity to themselves, perhaps even given her reason for concern as to why. She would have expected them to stir things up, cause trouble for her straight away.

Yet even though she had felt intimidated by the encounter, a feeling of anticlimax washed over her. She’d wanted to meet them all for many years, despite her job and their reputation. Secretly, she’d hoped they’d be friendlier with her. In an ideal world, she might have got to know them, but today had shown that wasn’t likely to happen.

There was one thing she had learned, though; from that meeting alone, she sensed that the Steele family were unnerved about something. Grace had seen the looks flicking between them. Were they trying to put up a united front that didn’t exist? Or was it meeting her that had made them feel so uncomfortable?

She went to join Perry.

‘We’ve just busted Parker’s locker open,’ he told her. ‘There’s the usual stuff in there – spare workout clothes, a towel, pair of trainers and some protein shakes. But we also found a leather bag full of sex toys, condoms, lubes, et cetera. And this.’ He held up a key ring. Attached to it was a luggage label, a key and an electronic key fob. The numbers 171794 were written on the label in black pen.

‘Playing away?’

‘It’s possible.’ Perry paused. ‘What did he mean back there?’

‘Who?’ Grace questioned.

‘Eddie. When he said “Well, well, well”?’

‘I’ve no idea,’ she replied, spotting Nick returning. ‘You?’

Perry shook his head. ‘I just wondered, with it being a really strange remark.’

‘It was,’ Grace said quickly. ‘I’ll go and update Nick.’ She walked away, hoping he wouldn’t see the blush she could feel forming on her face.

EIGHT

Eddie pinched the bridge of his nose. He wanted to punch out, hit the wall, throw the desk across the room, anything to rid himself of the feeling in his chest. He wouldn’t let his grief show in public, not even to his family. But Josh had been his friend since they were young boys and he trusted him more than he ever had any member of his family.

‘What the hell went on here last night?’ he yelled, slapping his hand down on the desk.

Jade visibly jumped. ‘Don’t look at me!’ she pouted.

‘I’m not. But someone knows something and I intend to find out who by the end of the day.’

‘Ed, I’m sorry.’ Leon walked round the desk to him and put a hand on his shoulder.

‘Yeah, I’m sure you are.’ Eddie shirked it off.

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘Well, there was never any love lost between the two of you. I also know what’s been going on. Josh told me what you’ve been doing to make more money on the side. I was as pissed off with him getting involved as I am with you. It’s stupid. And would you stop with the snivelling, Jade?’ Eddie snapped.

Jade pulled herself upright. ‘I have feelings!’ she shouted. ‘Josh was my friend too. I can’t believe he’s gone.’

‘I can’t believe someone would kill him at the gym.’ Leon ran a hand through his hair. ‘And what the hell is she doing turning up here?’

‘Grace?’ Eddie said, noting his brother had evaded his accusations. His informant at the police station had told him she was back. He hadn’t been too pleased about it at the time, and had hoped their paths wouldn’t cross so soon. He’d wanted to get a handle on her before deciding whether they needed to get her on side, to recruit her to their team.

‘Yeah,’ Leon responded. ‘As a fed, she’s a threat. As a person, she’s not welcome at all.’

‘I think she made it perfectly clear she didn’t want anything to do with us.’ Eddie reached for his phone. There were already seven messages waiting for him – news was getting around.

‘I didn’t get that impression,’ Jade said. ‘I think she was shy, maybe overwhelmed to meet us all in one go. Aren’t either of you intrigued to see what she’s like?’

‘No, and you aren’t going to find out either,’ Eddie remarked. ‘She isn’t family and never will be.’

‘But that’s—’ Jade began.

‘But nothing.’ Eddie glared her way. ‘You’ll do as you’re told.’

Jade folded her arms and stuck out her chin. ‘You might think you can still bully me – both of you – but you can’t tell me what to do now that Dad isn’t here. If I want to see my sister, then I will.’

‘Tell me,’ Leon mocked, ‘why hasn’t she been in touch before?’

Jade lowered her eyes momentarily. ‘I don’t know.’

‘And why didn’t you get in touch with her?’

‘Because of Dad, and you.’ Jade pointed at Eddie. ‘You were always threatening – like you are now – exactly what you would do to me if I did. If it wasn’t for that I would have got in touch with her years ago.’

‘But that doesn’t alter the fact that she never got in touch with you,’ Leon scoffed.

‘She probably hadn’t wanted to while Dad was alive,’ Jade said, adamant. ‘But now he’s gone and she’s back in Stoke. Well, I think I might like to get to know her.’

‘No,’ Eddie said.

‘You can’t stop me.’

‘You wouldn’t have seen her if she hadn’t come here this morning!’

‘Like I said, I’m curious!’ Jade leaned back and folded her arms.

‘I don’t want anyone to find out she’s related to us, either,’ Eddie stated.

‘Fortunately, it doesn’t seem like she is too keen to tell anyone,’ Leon remarked. ‘It was clear that Perry didn’t know who she was. We could use that to our advantage.’

‘No one finds out,’ Eddie warned. ‘I’ll tell our mother the same when I see her later.’

‘But—’ Jade started.

‘Stay away,’ Eddie warned. ‘She’s blue and she can’t be trusted.’

‘I’d trust anyone over you, so I can’t see why not.’ Jade raised her voice. ‘And losing Josh like that makes me realise how precious time is. If I want to see her, I will.’

‘Who’d want to see you?’ Leon sneered.

‘Why do you always have to be so nasty?’ With two strides Jade was out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

It was Eddie’s turn to run a hand through his hair. ‘Do you know anything about this?’

Leon came to stand by his brother. ‘No, I’ve told you that already.’

Eddie still didn’t believe him. He clicked a file on the screen. ‘We need to take a look at our security cameras to see what the cops will find on them.’

‘Shouldn’t we leave it to them?’

‘We sort out our own business.’ Eddie stretched up his arm, put a hand behind Leon’s neck and pulled him down until they were eye level. ‘If I find out you’ve had anything to do with this, you’re on your own, brother or no brother, do you hear me?’

For once, Leon didn’t try to resist his grip. Instead, he leaned on the desk with clenched fists, his eyes never leaving Eddie’s. ‘I hear you.’

‘And the girls, Leon.’ Eddie knew his brother would know exactly what he meant. ‘It stops, right now. I’m not covering for you again, especially for something so exploitative. What were you thinking? What was Josh thinking?’

‘Okay, okay!’

Eddie could mostly tell when Leon was lying, but he wasn’t quite sure this time. His brother seemed sincere, but, then again, he’d been fooled by him before. ‘I’ll check the cameras.’

‘I can do that.’

‘I want it done properly.’

‘I can do it properly!’

‘And quickly.’

‘Fine. Take control as usual.’ Leon shook his head as he left the room too.

Once on his own, Eddie pulled up the backup camera footage on his computer. The police would be looking through what he had given them but he needed to see what was on there too. Starting from when the gym was closing, he watched to see if anyone slipped back in after going outside. It seemed impossible to think that just an hour later Josh would be dead.

There was a lull, he presumed, while Josh did his workout. The first time his friend came into view, it was 22.45. Eddie watched as he checked over everything before setting the alarm and then leaving through the front entrance. From there he would head to the car park at the back of the building.

Eddie froze the frame and looked to see if he could see a shadow, an image, a shape that would suggest anyone was there. Purposely, their cameras didn’t catch every angle of the car park, and lots of their members knew this. Josh had been on his own when he left the gym and locked up, but as Grace Allendale had insinuated earlier, it also showed that whoever had attacked him might have realised exactly where to do it. This could have been a very calculated kill.

He sat back in his chair and stared at the photo of him and Josh on the wall until he couldn’t see through his watery eyes. Josh had been his stalwart. He was going to find out who had murdered his best friend and God help them when he got his hands on the bastard.

NINE

Visiting the families of the deceased wasn’t a part of Grace’s job that she enjoyed, but it always gave her a sense of the family dynamics. She’d worked on several cases in Manchester where spouses had feigned grief after having killed their loved ones and then tried to cover it up. It wasn’t hard to spot. The cracks started to appear once the pressure mounted, mistakes were made, little white lies turned into inconsistencies.

But people could be manipulative, so Grace felt she needed to know everyone involved for that reason too. It was why she’d been the one to speak to the Steele family at the gym. She could have asked Perry to question them; she was his manager. For now, they were all persons of interest until any evidence came back. Which was also why Grace could understand Nick being keen for her to go to the victim’s family home with him.

Josh Parker lived in the south of the city, on the southern edge of Stoke-on-Trent in an area called Meir Park, bordering Longton. Grace parked her car in a cul-de-sac of around twenty detached houses, surprised to see that he lived in such a nice area. Most of the gardens were tidy, lawns cut and looking healthy, flower beds and the odd tree a riot of autumnal colours.

‘At least we know it is him because of his tattoos,’ Nick sighed. ‘Although we will need formal ID from Mrs Parker once the body is in the morgue.’

‘Is there anything I need to know about Parker before we go in?’ Grace asked Nick once the engine had been killed.

‘He’s married with two children. Five and eight, something like that.’

‘Caleb and Mia? The names on his tattoos.’

Nick nodded. ‘I think so. His wife is Christa, and despite her beauty she’s a foul-mouthed layabout. Be prepared to be sworn at as she hates the police too.’

‘Charming,’ Grace muttered. ‘What about work stuff?’

‘He’s always been with the Steeles doing something or other since he left school. Him and Eddie were as thick as thieves, literally. When the gym opened twelve years ago, Josh trained as an instructor.’

‘Criminal record?’

‘A bit for dealing and ABH in his teens, and a stretch for robbery in his early twenties, but he’s stayed on the outside since, even though we know he isn’t clean.’

‘Oh?’

‘Well, he mixes with the Steeles.’

‘Ah.’

Nick smiled to acknowledge her discomfort. ‘None of them have been trouble-free, but nothing really stuck for long. And they’re all pretty pissed off that we haven’t found out who murdered their father. I hate unsolved cases.’ He unclipped his seat belt. ‘I’m sure you’ve done your research on the family, but I’ll be happy to go through anything with you at the station.’

At the front door, they showed their warrant cards. PC Warren introduced himself to Grace as the family liaison officer and showed them into a living room. He pointed to the garden through a large picture window.

‘She doesn’t want to speak to me,’ he explained. ‘Her mother is coming over, but she lives in Derby. She’ll be here soon.’

‘Shall I try, sir?’ Grace wasn’t certain she could get the woman to cooperate, but she would give it a go.

Nick nodded and she went outside, while he stayed indoors to chat with the officer.

Christa Parker was sitting at a table on the patio, dressed in black. She stayed seated but removed her sunglasses as Grace drew level with her. Grace tried hard not to stare: everything about the woman seemed false. Nails, hair, tan, lashes, lips. It had all been enhanced.

‘Mind if I join you?’ Grace asked tentatively.

‘You still think it’s him?’

‘Yes.’

Nick had been true to his word about Christa. After sobbing, there was shouting, a string of expletives, in between smoking and stubbing out two cigarettes. Grace tried not to hear the swearing. She was used to it in her line of work, but when it was every other word, it became tedious and a little disrespectful, despite it being Christa’s husband who had died.

‘And you’re certain Josh didn’t mention anything unusual to you lately?’ she asked. ‘I’m sorry for the intrusive questions, but it will help if we know.’

Christa shook her head. ‘He has many enemies – two scars from knife wounds from his early days as a bouncer. But no one would dare cross him now if they hadn’t taken him by surprise. Someone must have been waiting for him. To throw acid on him and stab him when he was down? That’s sick, and the sign of a coward.’

Grace said nothing, hoping Christa would fill the silence.

‘Don’t you have any clue who the bastard is?’

‘We’re making enquiries at the moment.’

‘You mean you have no one?’

‘It’s very early into the investigation, Mrs Parker,’ Grace explained.

‘Not even anyone you want to question?’

‘We’ll be able to tell you more when we’ve gathered the evidence.’

Grace left when the swearing started up once more. She couldn’t ask her to stop. The woman had to grieve the way she saw fit. As long as it wasn’t being hurled at her, it didn’t matter.

She could recall a few times when she had acted out of character when Matt died. She’d often gone into a ball of rage whenever anyone said she’d be best clearing his belongings out. It had taken her six months before she was able to do it, and even then the guilt had got to her. The sense of letting go of everything, its finality. Luckily, she’d had her mum around to help her through it. At least Christa Parker would have her mum there with her too.

When Matt had died, Grace’s mum had been there for her. She didn’t know what she would have done without her, and had been devastated when she too had passed away so soon after Matt. Since the age of twelve, Martha had looked out for her. Since she had been twenty-one, Matt had looked out for her. Now she had no one. So she could sympathise with Christa Parker, no matter how much she cursed.

Back on the road, Grace glanced across at Nick when they stopped as a set of traffic lights turned to red. ‘Do you think this is a revenge killing?’

‘We’ll have to dig deeper to find out. Although, most of the criminals I’m familiar with wouldn’t do anything on Steele land.’

‘Too close for comfort?’ Grace asked.

Nick nodded. ‘George Steele’s reputation died long before he did, but Eddie and Leon are known to use violence where necessary. Whoever did this would have known there’d be retaliation.’

‘And even without the knife wound, throwing acid into someone’s face takes guts. It can put the suspect in danger too, especially if they missed their target, so our killer could be deranged.’ Grace glanced quickly at him before they moved off again. ‘Not frightened to get hurt.’

‘Or unaware of the risk.’

‘Anyone spring to mind?’

‘No, but I can’t help thinking it’s an inside job.’

Grace nodded. ‘My thoughts exactly.’

TEN

By the time they got back to the office, it was nearing lunchtime. Grace had nipped into the nearby supermarket to grab something to eat. Once at her seat, she held up a bag of sugar-coated doughnuts.

‘These will keep us going.’ She smiled as eager hands reached out. ‘Anything we should know, Sam?’ she asked as she logged into her computer again.

‘Yes, but I’m making coffee if we have snacks.’ Sam raised her mug in the air. ‘Anyone want one?’

Grace was unsure whether Sam was joking or not. She had asked for information and she expected to get it. She gave the older woman a look, and Sam sat down sheepishly before adding: ‘The entrance to the side road the gym is situated on isn’t covered by city CCTV or traffic cams. I’ve contacted their control room to see if we can get some footage sent over so that I can analyse whose cars were on the main road around the time of the murder.’ Sam picked up a piece of paper and held it in the air. ‘I’ve already got a list of registration numbers, which I’ve started on. It only covers the last hour of opening times, but it’s a start.’

‘Does anyone’s name stick out?’ Grace asked.

‘Quite a few I know, but nothing that jumps off the page.’

‘Great, thanks.’ Grace nodded her approval. ‘Someone needs to check the signing-in register too, see who came in and out and at what times – see if it tallies with statements.’

‘I’m on to that,’ Alex said. ‘Although I suppose it’s dependent on everyone actually signing in and out when they say they do, seeing as there are no cameras to back anything up.’

DC Alex Challinor was the final member of Grace’s team. Alex had joined their office less than two years ago and, according to Allie, had rocked the boat immensely. He was married with teenage children and, at forty-five, was ten years older than Grace. He liked to think he had a look of Tom Hardy – she thought he had nothing of the sort – and policed with old-school tactics, which no one on the Major Crimes Team agreed with.

Even with the heads-up, Grace had tried not to take an instant dislike to him, but there was something about his mannerisms that made her suspicious. Still, she’d been fooled by people before; in her past job, some had put up a front of arrogance that she hadn’t liked and then, after a few weeks working together, her opinion had changed when they had mellowed and got to know each other. So, for now, she was willing to keep an open mind.

‘Indeed.’ Grace nodded. ‘Okay, Sam. Mine is one sugar please.’

Sam’s smile was faint, making Grace realise that she had been joking when she said she was going to make coffee before giving Grace what she needed. The Stoke sense of humour was taking her a while to adapt to. Its residents were more self-deprecating than those where she’d come from. A very friendly folk, but sometimes she didn’t know whether someone was kidding or not, so it was hard to join in.

She had also felt a need to assert herself during those early weeks, because if she became known as an easy boss, she’d never win over their respect.

Grace had only taken one bite into her sandwich before Nick was calling to her from the entrance to his office.

‘Grace, can I have a word?’

Her shoulders drooped at his sombre tone. She stood up, quickly wiping her mouth and fingers with a napkin before walking across the room. Inside his office, Detective Chief Inspector Jenny Brindley was sitting in Nick’s chair behind his desk. Jenny had been responsible for the Major Crimes Team for two years now, since the last DCI had retired. According to Allie, Jenny was one of the good people. She was fair, but she didn’t like the bending of rules in the slightest. She never turned a blind eye and was definitely not old-school. She was more like brand-new shiny school – dotting the i’s and crossing the t’s to get a good job done. Grace much preferred those tactics, which was why she was immediately wondering what she had done wrong.

‘Take a seat, Grace.’ Nick pointed to a chair as he shut the door.

Grace did as she was told, nervous at the tension she could feel all around her. Nick sat down beside her.

Jenny leaned forward and clasped her hands together on the desk. ‘It’s come to my attention that you are involved in the Josh Parker case,’ she said.

‘I am, yes.’ Grace’s heart sank.

‘And we are aware from your records that you are related to the Steele family.’

‘We share the same father, but that’s the only relevance.’

‘Yes, we know that you’ve come clean to us about your connections.’ She raised a hand when Grace was about to speak again. ‘I’m conscious that you don’t have anything to do with them, and I understand you aired concerns before you arrived in Stoke, which is correct procedure.’

Grace felt herself holding her body stiff and tried to relax. It was like being in school again, getting grilled by a teacher. Not that she’d been told off too many times. She’d always been the quiet one in the class who didn’t have many close friends, always handed in her homework on time and got awarded good grades.

‘I think this is too sensitive for you and I’d prefer you to work on something else,’ Jenny said.

‘Oh, but—’ Grace said.

‘I think she’ll do fine working it.’ Nick sat forward to protest. ‘Grace is good at her job, Jenny. From what I’ve seen so far, she’s handled things with professionalism, respect and, I suppose, courage. It can’t have been easy to roll up there and investigate the way she did, let alone run a team.’

Jenny smiled. ‘I do like the faith you have in Grace, Nick.’

‘It’s not just me. You remember she did extremely well on the Caudwell case last year, which is why she came so highly recommended?’

The Caudwell case Nick was referring to was one Grace had found herself immersed in when she’d been first on call to visit a frantic woman whose estranged partner had turned up and wouldn’t let go of their two-year-old son. The child was screaming to go to his mother and Craig Caudwell was threatening to harm him if things didn’t go his way. In the end, it had been just him, Grace and little Henry in the room, but she had brought the child out in her own arms unharmed before negotiators were needed.

‘Yes, I remember.’ Jenny raised her eyebrows in mock surprise.

‘She’s a good worker. She’s estranged from the Steeles and I don’t think she should be removed from the case because of a slight connection.’

‘It’s not actually a slight connection,’ Jenny stated.

Grace shuffled in her chair. They were talking as if she wasn’t in the room.

‘If we took every officer away from a case that they were related to someone on, we would have no one left to police anything,’ Nick went on. ‘Lots of officers have bad blood in their families. It’s the reason why some of them join the force. But they still do an effective job.’

‘And they are taken off cases when they involve direct family members,’ Jenny remarked. ‘It’s a conflict of interest and can be open to corruption too.’

Grace thought it was time to speak out. ‘With all due respect, Ma’am, I had no intentions of ever getting in touch with the Steele family. I was aware they were on my patch, I told you about it and I knew, with their connections, I would more than likely bump into them one day. But I handled the meeting professionally. I don’t have any allegiance to them. I won’t let anything interfere with my work.’

The room dropped into silence. Grace could almost hear the cogs working inside the DCI’s head. She held her breath, waiting for her to speak again.

‘Very well said, Grace.’ Jenny nodded her approval. ‘But it still doesn’t change the fact that you are on a case with members of your family involved.’

‘Which could work to our advantage,’ Nick stressed.

Both women looked his way.

‘We have someone who might get a little closer than normal.’

‘Absolutely not.’ Jenny shook her head. ‘Look, I’m not happy about this, but realistically we are pulled all over the place at the moment, what with budget cuts and several officers on sick leave. You can continue to work on this for now, until another DS becomes available. I do think your skills are best utilised on this, but when you visit Steele’s Gym, I want you to take someone along. I don’t want you to end up in court unable to defend yourself. Is that clear?’

‘Yes, Ma’am.’ Grace gulped under the woman’s ferocious stare.

Jenny pointed at Nick and then to herself. ‘We’ll get it in the neck if you step out of line. Do you understand?’

Grace nodded. ‘I won’t let you down.’

‘That’s good to hear.’ Jenny got up from her chair. ‘I’ll leave you to it.’

Once she’d gone, Grace blew out the breath she’d been holding and looked at Nick. ‘I thought she was going to remove me.’

‘She may very well have to,’ Nick replied. ‘But she’s given us a bit of leeway for now.’

‘It’s risky though, isn’t it?’

‘I still think we could use your connection to our advantage.’ Nick paused. ‘Are you up for it, if we keep it between us? See what you can get from them that we can use?’

‘But the DCI said—’

‘What Jenny doesn’t know won’t hurt her, and it’s on my head if it gets out.’

‘I don’t want to lose my job.’ Grace wasn’t so sure. ‘I’ve only just got here.’

‘Yes, yes, I know that.’ Nick waved away her concern. ‘I just think it will be good to get you close to them. We’re under pressure following our failure to solve George Steele’s murder. And because of that, Eddie and Leon are beginning to cause more and more issues in the city. I need someone to keep an eye on them.’

Even without getting into trouble, it had been weird seeing them all this morning. Grace didn’t want to be associated with them in any way, but she knew how hard that was going to be with her curiosity fighting to find out more about them. So, if she was going to be working close to them for the next few days, she might as well learn all she could, both on a professional and a personal level.

‘I’ll give it a shot.’ She nodded.

‘Great. Report anything back to me first. Keep it between us. And be careful.’ Nick stood up. ‘Team briefing is at six thirty. I’ll need to do a press release before that, and then we can regroup and see where we are. If everyone on the list hasn’t been contacted by then, you and the team can get on to it tonight.’

Grace nodded, knowing that it was going to be a long evening. ‘We’ve made a start on gathering intel on Parker. He’s obviously well known in the area and I’m catching up with what we have.’

‘I’m sure your team can fill you in with everything necessary.’ Nick nodded his head towards the door. ‘Off you go, Sergeant.’

Grace left the room and sighed with relief. As she scuttled back to her chair, all eyes fell on her. For now, she was home and dry, but she would definitely have to watch her step gathering intel for Nick. There was no way she was going to be removed from this case.

ELEVEN

The day had gone so quickly that when Grace next looked up at the clock it was six p.m. The office was a buzz of activity after the press conference brought a deluge of calls. Hopefully something would come through for them. Alongside the evidence gathered and forensics they were waiting for, there had to be a clue to who killed Josh Parker.

She rested a hand on the back of her neck and moved her head from side to side. She still couldn’t believe the first murder in her new job had been at Steele’s Gym. God help her if they blabbed and her team found out who she was. It could open her up to all kinds of bribery accusations. But why would the Steeles keep it to themselves, unless they thought they could use it for their own benefit?

Grace had known a fair few bent cops in her years, so, in a way, she couldn’t blame the DCI for thinking like that. But she was loyal to her colleagues and to the uniform, something they would only find out in time. If she had been working there longer than four weeks, people might have trusted her more. As it stood now, she’d have to work doubly hard at everything. Still, she was up for the challenge.

‘What are Eddie and Leon like together?’ she asked Perry, as she took a break from the list she was working her way down.

Perry leaned back in his chair as he spoke to her. ‘From what I can gather, Leon seems to think he should be an equal to Eddie. But with Josh as Eddie’s right-hand man, he’s never stood a chance. I think he saw Parker as muscling in on his territory.’

‘Like kids fighting over a girl,’ she said.

‘Pretty much. Leon thought Eddie gave Josh too much power. He obviously felt as if he was second rate. It was all childish. I’m not sure it’s relevant though?’

‘Oh?’

‘This doesn’t have the mark of anything Leon would do. I doubt he would leave a body to be found. And he’s more into fast and furious if he does anything. He’s known for using his fists to teach people lessons, not necessarily murder.’

‘Most murders are born from attacks that go too far,’ Sam said, as she looked over her notes in her notepad. ‘Assaults that come from an argument when tempers are raised. And if he was known for murder, he’d be inside.’

Perry flicked an elastic band at her. ‘You know what I mean, shortie.’

The band flew over Sam’s head as Perry had intended. Sam rolled her eyes at him.

‘What about the alarm codes?’ Grace asked. ‘Do we know who has access to the building?’

‘There are five people.’ Perry counted them off using his fingers. ‘Eddie, Leon, Jade, Josh and Trent Gibson.’

Trent Gibson was the man in the red tracksuit who had reported finding Josh Parker that morning. He’d been interviewed and a record of his account taken. He’d been working at Steele’s Gym for five years and had been on the alarm rota for the past two.

Grace nodded in recognition. ‘So, do we know yet who was the last of them to leave the building, other than Josh? Did their times tally with what they told me?’

‘Trent Gibson and Jade Steele weren’t there that day. CCTV footage of the entrance and the car park we can see confirms this. Eddie left at six thirty. Leon was the last to see the victim.’ Sam checked her notes. ‘He left at 8.12 p.m. Cameras show both brothers leaving through the front entrance at those times, and then getting into their cars and driving away.’

Grace gnawed at her lip while she pondered. ‘Do we have other ideas about what his death could be linked to, outside of the gym?’

‘Apart from the ongoing investigations into racketeering, importing of illegal steroids and theft of anything they can lay their hands on, there’s been a spate of cash-and-grabs increasing over the past few months. It’s possible Josh was involved. Alex can tell you more about that.’ Perry held up his hand as his colleague came back from a cigarette break. ‘Grace wants to know about the cash-and-grabs.’

‘Public being robbed at cash machines.’ Alex perched on the end of Grace’s desk. ‘Either someone behind grabs their money after they’ve withdrawn it from the ATM, with force if necessary, or someone rides past on a scooter and grabs it.’

‘What a pleasant bunch they are in Stoke,’ Grace muttered. ‘Almost the same as the lot I left back in Salford. So, you’re saying that the Steeles run this operation?’

Perry shook his head. ‘We think it’s likely to be Trent Gibson. He’ll be working for Leon, who doesn’t get his hands dirty.’

‘Oh!’ Grace said. ‘Does that put a different perspective on things?’

‘Possibly.’ Alex nodded. ‘Of course, we don’t have enough proof yet. But it seems likely Trent pays them a percentage of what his boys bring back. He also doesn’t like anyone who thinks they can steal the money and not give him his fair cut. We’ve questioned two members from the boxing gym over the recent months after their parents complained they’d been beaten up, but they wouldn’t press charges, and there wasn’t enough for us to put forward to the CPS.’

‘So how does Trent keep tabs on that?’ Grace asked.

‘Who knows? He doesn’t act like he can count past how many fingers and toes he has,’ Alex explained. ‘We think his girlfriend might be the brains behind it.’

‘Name of?’

‘Clara Emery. She works at the gym too, on reception. We don’t think Eddie has anything to do with it, and we reckon he’d be pissed off about it, in fact. He’s always having to bail Leon out of trouble. But this is small fry compared to other things we hope to one day get them on once the evidence is stacked up. So, although we’re looking into it, it’s on the back burner.’

‘They can’t be making that much money from it.’ Grace shook her head. ‘Wouldn’t their hit rate be so high that people would be on the lookout? And cameras on ATM machines would pick them up?’

‘Not necessarily,’ Alex said. ‘Often, they watch where the money is put and then they steal bags, phones and wallets. Sometimes they’re shifting larger things too. It’s lucrative.’

‘In a city this size?’ Grace shook her head.

‘You’re a bit quick to dismiss our local knowledge, aren’t you?’ Perry raised his eyebrows in disbelief. ‘You’re doubting us already?’

‘No, I was merely saying—’

‘You want to learn about this patch then I suggest you listen to us. We’ve been here a long time before you. We know the people and what they get up to.’

‘I wasn’t suggesting otherwise, but—’

‘If you’re that amazing, Grace,’ Perry butted in, ‘you would have researched all this before you came here.’

‘I don’t have to know everything. That’s why I manage a team, so that I can delegate.’

Silence fell amongst them.

‘We’re supposed to be on the same side,’ she added. ‘I’d appreciate it if you’d work with me, rather than against me.’

As Alex went back to his desk and all heads went down again, Grace held in her annoyance. Inside she was shaking, unaccustomed to raising her voice, but she had to show them she was boss. She wouldn’t be walked over by Perry, nor anyone else for that matter.

TWELVE

Alone that evening in his office, while everyone else raised a glass to a fallen friend in the Windmill pub, Eddie rested his head on the desk and let out his emotion. Here on his own he felt he could. Once he got home, there would be questions from his wife, Georgina, who had come to the gym for most of the day until picking up Harry, their youngest son who was twelve, from school. Thankfully, Harry would be in bed when he did eventually get home, and sixteen-year-old Charlie would most likely be out with his friends, so the house would be quiet.

He leaned back in his chair and sipped at his whisky. It was the only one he’d have. He wasn’t a drinker, not after he’d seen what it did to his father, and then Jade. He wanted to keep his wits about him rather than be taken by surprise by anyone. In his line of business there was always someone ready to pounce. This time it happened to be Josh who had suffered.

They’d managed to get back into certain parts of the building once the car park had been cordoned off, but the death of his friend meant that the gym had been shut, so their takings would be down. The gym membership was fine; most regulars paid monthly and the few who paid per visit wouldn’t be worth mentioning. But it was more than that. He hadn’t been able to do any of the regular behind-the-scenes stuff. There had been no money loaned, no stolen goods coming through the doors. Some of the boys had phoned to see what the score was, but he’d told them to steer clear. The blues being here was bad for trade in every respect. People would go elsewhere.

He cursed himself. What was he thinking? Josh was his friend. Business didn’t matter at the moment, apart from keeping everything under wraps. He wiggled the mouse so the computer woke up again. The Facebook page for the gym had been alight with comments once news had begun to spread. Josh had been well liked, a brilliant instructor and motivator, as well as a valued member of staff. Eddie hadn’t even begun to think of what he was going to do without him. It was too painful to contemplate.

He couldn’t trust anyone the way he’d trusted Josh. He was the only one who knew what George had been like to live with. Eddie had put his trust in Josh and, to his knowledge, his friend had told no one what had been going on in the Steele house. Their bond had strengthened because of this.

And now he was left with an empty space to fill, in more ways than one. With Josh out of the equation, he knew that Leon would want to step up into his place. It wasn’t possible; his brother was too hot-headed, and Eddie knew it was going to cause friction between them, but tough, he was used to it. Brother versus brother had been the norm since they were young, and their earlier years of hell would always be something that stayed between him and Leon.

Eddie scrolled through the messages that were still coming in. As well as his right-hand man, Josh had been a joker. Many would remember him for his sense of humour and his ability to play really silly practical jokes. Josh hadn’t minded if anyone wanted to get him back either. He had always been game for a laugh.

He was also pretty big on YouTube, having his own channel and promoting Steele’s Gym with his charisma as much as his advice. Eddie pressed on a video clip now, tears of anger welling in his eyes as he listened to Josh’s voice. Seeing him racing around the screen as he threw right hooks at a punchbag, it was hard to think that he was dead.

He took another sip of whisky and gazed through the office window into the empty gym behind it. Rows and rows of exercise machines stood as if on duty. Not a murmur could be heard except from the hum of the drinks machine. The emergency lights were on, giving the whole place an eerie glow.

A noise startled him. He turned, standing quickly. It sounded like a door closing, but he knew he was in the building alone. He reached for the baseball bat he kept by the side of his desk and went out into the corridor. Stepping slowly along it, he made his way into the gym, glancing around in every corner.

After a few minutes, he realised it was nothing. There had been no door closing. It was probably the heating clicking on or something stupid like that, something that shouldn’t have been enough to spook him.

Eddie went back to his office. There was crime scene tape across the side of the car park with no access, but was he risking it sitting here on his own? Was he next? Or had Josh’s murder been a one-off? He thought of all his rivals. He had as many as Josh. Was it someone with a grievance?

Tomorrow he would start getting word out to see. Once the police were gone, he would be doing some investigating of his own. He was going to root out the bastard who had done that to his friend. He would cut his eyes out. He would burn him too. And there would probably be someone behind the person who had carried out the attack, paying them to do their dirty work. He was going to find out who was at the top of the tree.

One last mouthful and, with the drink gone, he threw the glass at the wall, taking great delight in the noise and the mess that it made. It was better than using his fists, which was what his father would have done.

THIRTEEN

Sleep was the last thing on Grace’s mind as she arrived home just before midnight. She was famished, having only had time to eat a sandwich and the doughnuts throughout the day. She popped two slices of bread into the toaster and flicked on the kettle.

Well, the day hadn’t gone as she had planned but she certainly hadn’t thought of the date much. It hadn’t even had time to infiltrate her thoughts. Meeting her half-siblings in that manner had been immensely awkward. She suspected Eddie and Leon were going to be trouble and go out of their way to stall things. Or maybe they would surprise her and work with her to solve the murder, and simply want to get the police off their backs as quick as possible. It seemed that had been the case after the murder of George Steele had gone unsolved. She would have expected them to be coming in for weekly updates until the suspect had been caught.

Still, it must have been a shock to find someone dead on their premises. And such a high-profile person too. Parker shared tips on personal training and had quite a large following on social media. His murder might not only affect the club revenue; the funeral would be huge and the attention brought to the gym would be massive. She could bet Eddie wouldn’t like that.

She thought Leon, on the other hand, would lap it up. He seemed sharp, untouchable and a little ruthless. He tried to act as if he cared about Josh, but she could see it wasn’t sincere. Whereas Jade, she thought, seemed to be the only one with real tears. Whether that was because she was not as insensitive as her brothers remained to be seen.

Perry had been pissy again today. She’d thought she was getting through to him, that he might ease off with the catty remarks and the undermining comments. She knew he missed working with Allie because he mentioned her all the time. Allie did this and Allie did that. Grace had to bite her tongue on several occasions.

She also knew he wanted to be in control, but she’d got the job, not him. She’d give him a few more days and if he hadn’t changed his attitude she would have to talk to him about it. It wasn’t something she would look forward to but she had to start as she meant to go on.

The toast popped up, burnt around the edges and hardly touched in the middle, but she slathered it with butter all the same. Coffee made, she went through to the living room and sank into a deep orange armchair. It had been Matt’s favourite chair, so she hadn’t been able to part with it; instead, she’d bought a clashing bright blue leather sofa to fit alongside it perfectly. Even though she had never really felt settled here on her own, the house had such a homely feel to it without her even trying. She’d only had to add dashes of colour to help, alongside cream painted walls and light wooden flooring.

She flicked on the television. Their investigation might get a small mention on Sky News. It would gather momentum soon, because of who their victim was.

She sat back and thought of the day. Although she would never admit it to anyone, when she’d met her half-siblings she wished she could have spoken more with them, to see what it had been like for them as children. Of course she would never share what had happened to her in great detail, but she would always wonder if it had happened to them too. Or had it stopped with her and her mum?

The news clip she was waiting for came on and she turned up the volume. She had seen it earlier, but it was always something she liked to keep abreast of as fresh clips came through. Flowers had started to appear along the perimeter railings of the gym when people started to hear the news, but since the press release had gone out, people had turned up in their droves. Now alongside them were teddy bears, cards, candles. A football strip from both of the city’s football teams, which she bet didn’t happen very often. In a weird way, the outpouring of grief for Parker had been good to see. A lot of murder victims went unnoticed.

Yet she’d heard a few rumours today of Josh’s habit for hard knocks and doing whatever it took to get what he wanted. Perhaps they would find some good leads because of who he was. He must have had lots of loyal fans as well as enemies. Although his face was now damaged beyond recognition, he’d been exceptionally good-looking from what she had seen of his images everywhere, and he was a powerhouse of muscle underneath his clothes. She knew how many hours’ training that would have taken and, even though it sounded strange, it was a shame to see all that hard work go to waste.

She wondered if the senior CSI guy – what was he called? – had worked out cause of death. Dave Barnett, that was it. She picked up a notepad and wrote down his name. So many people met in one day had made her face-blind and she hated forgetting people’s names. In her line of work, you needed all the favours you could get; the last thing she wanted was to annoy someone because she couldn’t remember the basics.

Exhausted, she went back through to the kitchen and loaded the dishwasher with its lone plate and mug. Then she thought better of it and washed them.

With one last glance at Matt’s image at the bottom of the stairs, she checked the doors were locked, switched off the lights and set the burglar alarm. Going upstairs with its gentle beep in the background was reassuring but nowhere near as good as having someone coming to bed with you, to wrap their arms around you.

Grace had always been a loner, having only a handful of close friends growing up. It took her a long time to trust people, always having a guarded attitude. That way, she couldn’t get hurt. It was obviously something to do with her childhood. Luckily, Matt had had the same kind of personality.

They had been an insular couple from the moment they had got together. They’d met at a bowling alley when she had been out with some of the girls from the station she’d been working out of and he’d been with a group of his friends. Her girls had been whooping and hollering and his group had started doing the same. After a lot of catcalling, they’d merged and she’d paired up with Matt. By the end of the evening, he’d invited her out for a drink and they’d been together ever since. They’d bought a house within two years and married a year later.

Things had been going great until the diagnosis. Sometimes they had laughed together but mostly there had been tears. It had been tough to go through, but she hadn’t been the one dying so she had tried to keep their spirits raised. Matt had been determined not to give in until there had been no hope. He’d finally lost his faith when he had been admitted to the hospice. He’d been given weeks to live but had lasted only three more days. It was as if he knew that he wasn’t going to see out the end of that month. And who could blame him? He’d been in so much pain, ending his life as a shadow of his former self. Their life together now gone.

After he’d passed away, Grace remembered the empty feeling she’d experienced going back to their home. Even so soon after his death, it was as if he had never lived there. An emotion she couldn’t describe to anyone had washed over her – the grief, the anger, the fear, the relief; all mixed into one. Her work colleagues had rallied round, as too had her mum, but it hadn’t been enough to keep the loneliness at bay. She’d stopped going out for a while, her job giving her the ultimate excuse to work long hours and have no time for socialising.

She paused halfway up the stairs, squeezing her eyes shut tightly so she couldn’t see anything but coloured spots. She missed Matt so much, but she needed her sleep right now. She had to keep her head clear for the days ahead.

It was going to be emotional.

FOURTEEN
THURSDAY – DAY 3

The morning team briefing at eight thirty found over twenty people in a conference room that comfortably fitted only twelve. Grace had been lucky to bag a seat. Perry was standing behind her; Sam and Alex sat across from them; Nick was at the head of the table next to DCI Jenny Brindley. The rest were uniformed officers who had been drafted in to help.

‘Welcome to Operation Wedgwood.’ Jenny glanced around the room, waiting for someone to catch her eye. ‘The Parker case. What’s come in so far?’

Grace cleared her throat before speaking. ‘There are lots of house-to-house calls to continue with today and Sam has been actioning anything against the ones yesterday. We still have a list of people to get through, those who were at the gym between six and ten p.m. when it closed. And after the appeal for people to come forward went out during the press release, we have a lot more to interview this morning.’

‘What about his family? Friends? Acquaintances?’ Nick glanced around the room. ‘I know he must have a list a mile long of people that he knew, but are we making headway at all?’

‘We ran through about fifty per cent of them yesterday,’ Grace said. ‘And we’re planning on getting to the rest today. I’m sending my team across to the gym. We obviously can’t use the car park yet, but they’ve been arranging to interview people at the same time to save them all coming here.’ She pointed across the room to where a young man was sitting. ‘PC Mick Higgins has been drafted in to help us for a few hours too.’

‘At your service,’ Mick beamed.

Grace tried not to laugh. His eyes were as wide as his smile, reminding her of how much she’d resembled an eager puppy when she had first started as a beat bobby. He was mid-twenties at a push, his auburn hair cut short, his baby face sprouting the makings of a beard – all the fashion at the moment, but not an accessory she was enamoured with. She couldn’t understand the craze – give her a clean-shaven man any day.

Jenny nodded. ‘Anything else?’

‘We know Parker was on his own when he left the building,’ Grace continued. ‘You can clearly see him on the security camera coming outside.’

‘So he was at his car before anything happened. But no sign of anyone else?’

‘No, Ma’am.’

‘There are fields at the back of the gym.’ Mick chewed his bottom lip. ‘Do we think our suspect could have escaped that way?’

‘It’s possible,’ Grace acknowledged. ‘I don’t know the area as well as you guys, but I can see the canal towpath is a few minutes away on foot. It could take our suspect to any number of places where they could come out unnoticed.’

‘Or there could have been a car parked nearby,’ Perry suggested.

Nick nodded and turned to Alex. ‘Can you get Grace familiar with George Steele’s murder? Let’s see if there are any similarities.’

‘Will do.’ Alex nodded.

Grace cleared her throat to speak out in protest, but Nick chose not to look at her and continued with the briefing. Once he’d brought everyone up to speed, he stood up to signal the meeting was drawing to an end.

‘Preliminary PM results might be back for team briefing this evening.’ He gave out a few more orders before clapping his hands. ‘Right, people, you have your tasks. Go and do what you do best.’

When Grace returned to her desk, there was a jiffy bag in her in-tray, her name and the address of the station typed on a large white label. She leaned across and picked it up, wondering what it could be. Turning it over, she pulled on the red cotton that would open the seal. Seeing something wrapped in pink tissue paper, she popped her hand inside and drew out its contents. Unwrapping it revealed a Barbie doll: Moonlight Rose.

Grace frowned. She’d had the exact same doll when she was a girl. It had been a present from her father. She could specifically remember him saying that it was a rose for his rose. She shuddered at the thought. Who on earth would send her this?

Sam looked over Grace’s shoulder as she walked past. ‘A Barbie doll! Where’s that come from?’

‘I don’t know. There’s no note with it and the label isn’t handwritten so I can’t even hazard a guess.’ Grace held on to the toy. ‘I think it’s someone’s idea of a joke.’

‘I loved my Barbie. Did you have one when you were young?’

‘Yes. It was my favourite doll.’

‘I got one for my fifth birthday. I think I took it to bed with me on that first night.’ Sam giggled. ‘Come to think of it, I think I took it to bed with me until I was about twelve.’

‘Did you only have the one?’ Grace asked.

‘Yes. I didn’t want any more. I remember my friend having several and I thought at the time it was greedy. How can you give attention to more than one thing at a time? They’re collectors’ items now, you know.’ She clicked on to Google. ‘That one has a sixty-quid price tag.’

‘Maybe Ken will be delivered tomorrow,’ Alex smirked, butting into the conversation.

‘I’m surprised you know she had a beau!’ Grace laughed.

‘I have two older sisters. They used to nick my Action Man and hide him all the time.’

‘You wuss! You let them girls walk all over you,’ Sam teased.

As everyone took a few moments out to join in with the toy-related banter, Grace ran a hand around the inside of the envelope again, but there was nothing else inside it.

‘Do you think it’s anyone from your Manchester crew, winding you up?’ Perry asked.

‘I bet it is,’ Grace said, but she felt strangely unnerved.

Would it be someone she knew? She wouldn’t put it past any jokers at the station where she used to work, although they would probably have done something like this during her first week here. But how would they know about this doll? Could it be a coincidence?

She opened a desk drawer, placed the doll back into the envelope and popped it out of sight for now. When she looked up, Nick was beckoning her into his office.

‘Can you go and see Kathleen Steele?’ he asked as she got to him.

‘Yes, sir. I’ll take Perry with me,’ Grace said.

‘No, go alone – try and get her at home. Pry gently, if you know what I mean.’

Grace knew exactly what he meant. Go against their DCI’s instructions. ‘I don’t think—’ she started.

Nick put up his hand. ‘It’ll be fine. I’ll square it if necessary.’

FIFTEEN
Then

She woke to the sound of screams and sat up quickly in bed.

‘Mummy?’ Pulling the covers back, she tiptoed across the carpet. When she reached the door, she hesitated. What if Daddy was so cross that he hit her again?

‘Leave me alone!’

A bang. She jumped and almost ran back to hide under the covers, but there was another scream. She couldn’t leave her mummy in the hands of a monster.

She opened the door. Another bang and the sound of breaking glass. She padded across the tiny hallway. The living room door was ajar so she peeped around the corner of the frame. Mummy and Daddy were on the floor. Daddy was on top of Mummy, but Daddy had his hands around Mummy’s throat. Mummy was going red in the face.

‘Mummy!’ she screamed.

They both turned towards her, the room dropping into silence except for the sound of heavy breathing.

‘Get back to bed.’ Daddy pointed at her.

‘You’re hurting Mummy!’

‘If you don’t move by the time I count to three, it will be my hands around your neck.’

‘Go back to bed, darling,’ Mummy said. Her voice didn’t sound like Mummy. It was all croaky and had a shake in it.

She shook her head.

Daddy got to his feet slowly. She froze as he clenched his fist and came towards the door. Then he slammed it shut in her face.

She ran back to her room. Because she knew what would happen next. Her plan hadn’t worked. Grabbing her teddy bear, she crept into the wardrobe. She covered her ears with her hands to block out the sound of Mummy’s screams. On and on they went.

‘Don’t hurt my mummy,’ she sobbed.

She hated it inside the wardrobe. It was dark and things dangled over her and scared her. But it felt safer than being in bed.

And then it went quiet. She squeezed the teddy to her chest. She could hear Mummy crying too.

‘Don’t hurt her, George, please,’ she begged. ‘She’s only six.’

‘Get her in here.’

‘No, let her be.’

There were bangs, as if someone had fallen. She heard Mummy groan. And then the bedroom door opened.

‘I’ll break every bone in your body if you don’t come out from where you’re hiding.’

Daddy’s voice was so loud and scary. She held her breath, trying not to let him know where she was.

The wardrobe door was flung open. Daddy stood there. He had taken off his belt and wrapped it around his hand. She could see the buckle hanging down.

‘Please don’t hurt me, Daddy,’ she cried.

He reached inside the wardrobe, grabbed a handful of her hair and pulled her to her feet.

‘Come here, you little bitch.’

SIXTEEN

After dropping her team off at Steele’s Gym, Grace headed for the north of the city. It was an address she hoped she’d never have to revisit and just the thought of it was enough to make her want to drive to the M6, the city’s nearest motorway, and go anywhere instead.

Moreover, she wondered if maybe after her chat with the DCI she shouldn’t be going to this address alone, but ultimately this wasn’t Steele’s Gym, and that was the only place she’d been explicitly warned about.

Brown Edge was a small village built on one of the south-westerly spurs of the Pennine Chain and looked particularly colourful now that autumn was creeping up on them. After she had passed fields and farms to get to the address in Woodhouse Lane, she pulled in at the side of the road and took a deep breath. Hardman House had been her childhood home. It wasn’t a happy place. Even after this length of time away, there would still be ghosts of the past around, and in, every corner.

She got out of the car and walked up the driveway. Her footsteps were heavy, her heart beating as loud as a soldier’s on a quick-march. The house was a pre-war detached with a double frontage and large bay windows. Years ago, her mum had told her that George had inherited it from his parents and hadn’t spent any money on it so it had deteriorated, along with their marriage. The building itself was exactly as she remembered it, bar replacement windows and doors and a lick of paint here and there. The concrete on the driveway was old and breaking up, revealing pebble lakes that she walked around.

All at once, she remembered the places she used to hide: behind the bin store, the outhouse that led out to the garden, the attic with its winding staircase that George found hard to negotiate when he’d had a drink, the cupboard under the stairs – until he’d put a lock on it and used it to keep her in.

And the place where her nightmares had started.

She knocked briskly on the front door and took out her warrant card. A woman who appeared to be in her late fifties answered it. Her face was made-up as if it had been professionally done, her clothes immaculate. She pushed long tendrils of dark hair, flecks of grey apparent, behind her ears. She looked well, no clear signs of age interfering with her health. Her eyes reminded Grace of Jade, but her colouring was like Eddie and Leon’s.

She almost bounced forward a step on heels as Grace held up her warrant card.

‘Mrs Kathleen Steele? I’m DS Allendale and—’

‘I know who you are,’ the woman interrupted, smiling brightly. ‘Come on through.’

Trying not to show surprise at Kathleen’s over-friendly manner, Grace stepped inside the hallway, flinching as the door was closed behind her. It had always seemed dingy in her memories, but now it was light and airy. The wooden panels were still on the bottom half of the wall but the colour above them was a bright baby blue rather than the oppressive red she could remember.

She looked up to see the large opaque window above the stairs had been replaced with coloured glass, the image of a sunflower as bright as the sun coming through it. Yet even though the decor had most likely been changed several times since the night Grace and her mum had left, no one could erase the memories of those torturous years from within its walls.

If she stepped into the kitchen, which was the doorway at the far end of the hall, she would see George Steele holding her mother by her hair, a hand raised up ready to slap her. If she went into the dining room, she would see her mother flat out on the floor after he had hit her too hard and knocked her out. If she went upstairs to the family bathroom, she would see her curled up in a ball after he had assaulted her.

As she followed Kathleen Steele into the living room, a memory washed over her so vividly that fear gripped her insides and her stomach tightened. Blood rushed to her head and she had to sit down on the settee before her legs gave way.

‘Are you all right?’ Kathleen questioned. ‘You’ve gone deathly pale. Would you like a drink?’

Grace could only nod, thankful for a few moments to regain her composure while she was alone. An image had come to her mind. George Steele coming at her with a knife. She’d had no recollection of it until then, but the memory was of her mum stepping in front of her to shield her. Was that where the scar on Martha’s forearm had come from? Would George have killed her if her mum hadn’t been there?

Kathleen came back into the room with a glass of water. Grace took it from her gratefully.

‘I’m sorry to sit down uninvited,’ she said. ‘I don’t know what came over me.’

‘Oh, please don’t apologise. I hope you’re feeling better soon. At least your colour is returning. You gave me a fright.’

Grace sipped at the water for a moment before putting it down on the coffee table. ‘I wanted to ask you a few questions about Steele’s Gym.’

‘What would you like to know?’

‘Just a few routine things, so that I can understand how it’s run.’

Kathleen smiled. ‘You mean that neither Eddie nor Leon are being of any use to you?’

Grace smiled. ‘There was a little obstruction when I asked them anything. Do you have any say in the running of it?’

Kathleen sat down on the settee opposite. ‘Not until recently. George would never let me work. He was a debt collector for some years – I’m sure you might know that already. But he was an alcoholic and the disease took over him eventually. He hardly went anywhere but the pub during his last year alive.’ She paused for a moment. ‘After he was murdered, Jade and I got to know each other better. I thought it would be good for us to work together on something, so we opened Posh Gloss, on a part-time basis. It’s not terribly busy, but we get by; although mostly I’m in there on my own, or the receptionist, Clara, takes over.’

‘Jade doesn’t like doing nails?’

‘My daughter doesn’t like doing anything.’ Kathleen sighed. ‘Jade has always been a fragile soul. She’s never been married but the last man she was with was hideous. She spent several years with him before he thankfully left her. She and my granddaughter Megan have been living back in Stoke for about a year now, in their own house, but they spend a lot of time here with me since George was murdered. To tell you the truth, I like having them around; they each have a bedroom of their own here. The house is too big for me without him. We were married in 1996, just after you left, you know.’

Grace looked away fleetingly. It was awkward talking about it, but it was better out in the open. Kathleen had had an affair with her father. He had been married to her mother when her half-siblings were born. Kathleen had also lived with the beast. Even if she had no visible physical scars, Grace assumed she must have some mental ones. Grace did and she’d been a mere child.

Unless of course George Steele never laid a hand on Kathleen. And Grace couldn’t ask her. It was none of her business.

‘I didn’t have it easy with George,’ Kathleen said.

Grace jumped. It was almost as if the woman had read her mind.

‘I bet he was as brutal to you and your mother as he was to me and my children?’ Kathleen added.

Grace said nothing, then gave a small nod.

Kathleen looked at Grace, regret clear in her expression. ‘I couldn’t stop him,’ she continued. ‘But I couldn’t leave with three children. I had no money, nowhere to go, so it was better to put up with it until the children were old enough to fend him off. And then it was too late for me.’ She sighed dramatically. ‘I only wish I had your mother’s convictions. But George wore me down. Thankfully’ – she swept her hand around the room – ‘the house was put into my name, as George began to fear having anything in his own. Business sense, he called it, although he never made a will.’ She half-smiled then. ‘It did mean that when he died it was passed to me.’ She paused. ‘I hope you don’t feel bitter that nothing was left to you.’

‘Of course not!’ Grace shook her head and refrained from saying what she was thinking. George Steele had ceased being any part of her life once they had moved to Manchester. If he had left her anything, she would have refused it.

‘Eddie and Leon have never really seen eye to eye,’ Kathleen added. ‘You’d think they would, only a couple of years between them, but George made them rivals. It wasn’t nice to witness.’ She stopped as if thinking what to say next. Then, with a shake of her head, she continued. ‘George Steele had a lot to answer for, but I’m afraid I had too. I should have found the courage that your mother did and left him years ago. He was a monster.’

Grace couldn’t imagine how hard life had been for Kathleen, living in a house full of dread and fear, amongst so many family feuds.

She stayed for a few minutes more, asking basic questions about Kathleen’s movements at the gym on the night Josh Parker was murdered, but she had got what she’d come for.

As she drove away, leaving all her demons in the house, she knew that everything she had witnessed yesterday at the gym had been a front. With what Kathleen Steele had just told her, it seemed that none of them really liked each other. But most families stuck together, and they didn’t seem to be an exception.

SEVENTEEN

Kathleen watched as Grace reversed her car and drove out onto the lane. She stood in the window for a long time after the detective had gone, watching the leaves falling from the trees as they were taken away in the wind. Her shoulders drooped but her anger continued to rise. It had been such an effort to be pleasant to the bitch, but she had a reputation to uphold and if that meant being nice to her face, then, well, she’d have to do her best for the sake of appearances.

Because she hated Grace, and her mother, in equal measure. They had left her at the hands of George. She’d known about the girl and Martha Steele, long before they had moved to Manchester. If she was truthful, part of her had wanted them out of the equation so she could have George all to herself. But she hadn’t realised how terrible things would get for her and the kids once they had gone.

If Martha Steele hadn’t left with Grace, then maybe things would have been different. At the time, Kathleen had been fine living in her flat with the children, their father sleeping over two or three nights a week, even if it was a tight squeeze.

But George wanted them all to move in with him when he’d found himself alone. On his own territory, he became even more predatory. And then he became obsessed with getting married. He’d managed to track Martha down and got her to agree to a quick divorce, on the grounds that he had committed adultery. To this day, she had no idea why he’d wanted to do that, rather than go and drag Martha back because his pride had been dented. Maybe it was all about saving face. Replacing Martha with Kathleen made it look as if it was George’s choice to end his first marriage.

Kathleen hadn’t wanted to marry George straight away. She would have preferred to see how things panned out. She’d always hoped that one day he would change, but like a lot of people whose lives were blighted by abusive partners, she had been taken in by sober George. Drunken George didn’t give a stuff about anyone but himself. So she lived for the days of sober George.

He’d said he’d change if they moved in together on a permanent basis. But it was all lies. Living at the hands of a monster was not just degrading, it was debilitating. He had not only beaten her down with his hands, he had beaten her mentally. Saying she was never good enough, never able to leave because she didn’t have anywhere to go, no one would want her. He’d given her no money, she had been dependent on him for everything. What did her children know about real hardship?

George had mellowed in his later years; he wasn’t quite the bully he used to be, and Eddie and Leon had taken his place in the respectability chart. Since George had been murdered, things had improved drastically for everyone. There was no longer that sense of fear, and no anticipation that things could erupt at any time. Now Kathleen had to make sure her children didn’t get into too much trouble instead.

It was a ceaseless battle. Half the time they never listened to her. They still blamed her for their suffering. How wrong they were when they said she could have got away from him.

Her shoulders drooped again, thinking of her daughter, and her granddaughter. It wasn’t entirely Jade’s fault, but she did play the victim card far too often. Although, to be fair, Kathleen didn’t mind so much; Jade had all but left her to look after Posh Gloss since her last boyfriend had deserted her and she had moved back to Stoke, and it was Kathleen’s first chance at running a business; during the past few months she’d found she’d really enjoyed it. Being around people was a joy compared to having to stay cooped up in the house all day, waiting for George to come home from wherever it was he’d been, figuring out what mood he was in as soon as he came through the door, as she had for so many years. And it was all because of Martha and her daughter.

So, despite putting on airs and graces, that woman coming to the house had annoyed her. What if Grace Allendale saw through her act and began to pry? There were secrets in their family, things no one was ever going to find out. She’d need to think what to do next, to keep everyone safe.

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.