No Going Back by Casey Kelleher (black male authors TXT) 📗

‘You’re fucking kidding me!’ Holder stepped closer, inspecting the grainy image on the screen.

‘Sarge. It’s Lucy. You need to get down here now. We’ve got something,’ Lucy said. She turned her attention back to the phone as DS Morgan’s voice poured out from the other end.

‘We’ve got an image of the man that fits the description of Shelby Cooke’s attacker. An almost identical image to the E-fit. The camera has picked him up lurking in the car park around the time that Riley Cooke went missing.’ She tapped at the screen, to draw attention to what sat at the man’s feet for Holder’s benefit.

‘Shit!’ Holder said. Going silent then as Lucy broke the news.

‘He’s got a large holdall with him, Sarge. Big enough and discreet enough to hold a stolen baby. And there’s something else. We’ve had some calls come in from the press appeal, Sarge. The same name has been given to us three times. One caller seems like a reliable source too, claims that they are a prison officer over at Wandsworth Prison. We’re following it up right now, but he says that the E-fit matches the exact description of an inmate who was recently released from there, get this, three days before the first victim was murdered in Richmond Park. Sarge, I believe the man we’re looking for is a Jay-Jay Andrews.’

33

Little Riley Cooke won’t stop crying. His voice fills the room with loud, rampant, angry sobs. And he won’t stop. Lying on top of the duvet, he kicks out his arms and legs in his wild fury. Stronger and far more furious than a newborn baby should be.

It’s as if his survival instincts have kicked in. As if he’s battling for a feed. Hungry, perhaps, only he refuses to drink the bottle that is offered to him. His mouth pursing tightly shut, as if purposely protesting to keep the teat out. The milk might be too warm? Or maybe it’s too cold? He screams some more. His nappy has just been changed, so it can’t be that. He’s tired. And so he should be with all the bawling he’s done. Exhausted himself. Yet he’s fighting sleep, and there’s no sign of him giving in to it anytime soon.

Still he screams. Louder now, the noise echoing around the room. Nothing seems to stop it, not even for a few seconds. Nothing is good enough. Nothing is working.

It’s like he knows, like he is picking up on the sinister vibe around him. Unsettled and pining for his mother. He doesn’t feel safe. He’s not happy. Only nothing seems to help, nothing will make him stop. And the noise is deafening now, the sound of his dull, constant whimpering turns into a high-pitched hysterical scream that fills the room.

Wrapped in extra blankets in case he’s too cold. Taking them off again, in case he’s too hot. Picking him up and praying that the rocking motion will help soothe him.

Only it doesn’t. He’s screaming louder now. A stream of tears running down his puce-red cheeks.

Placing him back down on the blanket.

The slam of a door. The noise quieter, muffled.

Nothing will make him stop.

34

‘So, it was all a lie?’ Shelby said, open-mouthed as Ashley confessed to her the trouble that he was in with the Boland brothers – how they’d beaten him up outside the club the other night. ‘It wasn’t just kids? You knew these men?’

Ashley nodded, looking down at the floor now. He hadn’t even told Shelby the worst of it, and already she looked ready to implode. But he knew he had to tell her. Taking his chance while they were finally alone. Like Lucy said, it would be better coming from him. Because this was going to all come out either way, and Ashley had to salvage whatever he could.

‘I owe them money, Shelby. A lot of money. It was for us. I did all of it for us, you have to believe me.’ Ashley was trying his hardest to make Shelby understand why he’d got in the situation in the first place. ‘It was stupid, I know that now. But I was given some information about a bet. It was a dead cert. I was going to give it back straight afterwards.’ Ashley knew that of all the things he’d asked Shelby to forgive him for in their relationship, this was going to be the ultimate. ‘I just wanted to prove to you that I could get us out of that dump of a flat and that I could support you. I’m sick of your mum and dad looking down their noses at me, as if I’m a nothing. As if I’m just a waster. The money was going to be a big chunk of the deposit.’ Ashley wiped the stray tear from his cheek. ‘Only I lost the bet. I lost fucking everything. And the Boland brothers wanted their money back. I didn’t think they’d carry out their threat when they said they’d pay you a visit too,’ Ashley said, regretting saying so much as Shelby’s head whipped around to face him then.

‘Pay me a visit?’ Narrowing her eyes. Ashley’s words were going into her ears, but her brain couldn’t make sense of them. What he was telling her couldn’t be true. ‘The attack? Someone threatened me with a knife. I could have been stabbed, murdered. Our son could have died. And all this time, you’ve known who it was? And you sat there like a gormless bloody idiot and kept your mouth shut?’

‘I didn’t know for sure, I still don’t,’ Ashley said, starting to cry properly now, because when Shelby said it like that, so bluntly, it sounded bad. Really bad. ‘I thought they were just saying it. You know. And the police, they mentioned about your attack being linked to another attack over in Richmond Park. So, I figured it couldn’t have been them.’

‘A