The Cop Read online

  THE COP

  JOHN NICHOLL

  CONTENTS

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  More from John Nicholl

  About the Author

  About Boldwood Books

  1

  Kathy Conner stood at the range cooker and stirred the home-made vegetable soup she’d been preparing for over an hour. Had she added salt? Oh God, he always wanted salt. Think, Kathy, think. It had to be perfect. Nothing less was acceptable.

  Kathy took a spoon and tasted it, ignoring the burning heat as it blistered her lip. Not bad, not bad at all, just the right amount of salt and a little black pepper too. Perhaps he’d be satisfied this time. Maybe it was tasty enough… even for him.

  She checked the clock above the dishwasher for the umpteenth time that afternoon and winced. Time was getting on; sprinting away from her faster and faster as if to taunt her. He’d be back soon after five. That only gave her two hours at best. The main course. Come on, Kathy. There are potatoes to peel, vegetables to chop to the correct dimensions. The meal had to be ready and waiting the second he arrived. There was no room for dawdling – not a single second to spare.

  Kathy stopped mid-step on approaching the fridge and stood listening for even the slightest sound. Was that a car pulling up on the driveway? What on earth? It couldn’t be, could it? It was only ten past three. Oh shit, surely not? Please don’t be him. Please don’t let it be him.

  She noticed that her hands were trembling, her head swimming as she allowed the countertop to support her weight. The driver had switched off the engine. Oh God, was that a key in the lock? Yes, yes, the front door was opening. It was definitely opening. There were footsteps in the hall, heavy footsteps, his footsteps, getting nearer. And then there he was in front of her, standing at the kitchen door, flexing his powerful biceps and forming his hands into tight fists as he stared at her with a blank expression on his boyish, brutal face.

  ‘Hello, Michael, you’re early today. It’s just after three. Have you forgotten something? I’m in the process of preparing your evening meal.’

  He glared at her without response, turning his head slowly to scan the room with keen eyes that she believed saw everything.

  Kathy looked away, averting her eyes to the wall, wondering why her mouth felt so very dry. ‘Did you have a good day at work?’

  He took a single step towards her. ‘The usual crap. Why do you ask?’

  She bit the inside of her cheek hard, tasting blood. ‘I’m just taking an interest. That’s okay, isn’t it? You don’t mind, do you? You often say I should.’

  He placed his peaked cap on the pine table. ‘Can you see this uniform? The dark blue cloth. The shiny silver buttons. Or are you blind as well as stupid?’

  Kathy clenched her jaw, continuing to stir the soup slowly with a wooden spoon, avoiding his accusing gaze. ‘Of c-course, I can see it. You look very smart. Just like you always do. Your uniform fits perfectly. You’re a credit to the force.’

  ‘So you can see it? You’re not oblivious to the fact that I’m standing here in full uniform? You’re twenty-eight not eight. That reality shouldn’t be beyond your feeble capacity for reasoned thought.’

  Kathy’s entire body was shaking now, her voice breaking as she searched for the words. Any words that may satisfy him even for a single second. Something to calm him down. ‘Yes, I can see you. You’re right there in front of me.’

  ‘In that case, you should understand that I spend every second of every working day dealing with the criminal lowlifes of this world. The scum that most people choose to avoid. Where’s the pleasure in that, Kathy? Can you answer that for me? Or are you just being your usual thoughtless self? Perhaps you’re trying to piss me off, is that it? It won’t go well for you if you are. Even you should understand that by now.’

  Kathy momentarily thought that she couldn’t respond; that her mouth wouldn’t function; that the words wouldn’t come. She forced her lips apart, loosening her jaw, thinking she had no choice but to say something. But what to say? What on earth to say?

  ‘I was only asking. You like me to take an interest, don’t you? You’ve told me as much. Your life is so much more interesting and worthwhile than mine.’

  Michael Conner took a second step towards his wife, loving every anxious twitch of her face as he studied her closely.

  ‘You were only asking? Are you sure, Kathy? Are you really sure? Or are you just saying what you think I want to hear? Perhaps you’re talking crap as usual. It wouldn’t be surprising, now that I think about it. I wonder why I put up with you sometimes. I was quite a catch. I could have married anyone I chose. Why the hell did I settle for a burdensome shrew like you?’

  Kathy opened her mouth intending to speak but then closed it again as she choked on her words. Sometimes silence was best. And sometimes nothing helped. She feared this was one of those times.

  ‘Nothing to say for yourself?’

  ‘Nothing you’d want to hear.’

  He laughed, head back, and then mimicked her, his mouth hanging open, a half-witted expression transforming his features. ‘What’s with the goldfish impression? You look even more ridiculous than you usually do, and that’s going some. What a fucking idiot! And just when I thought I couldn’t like you any less.’

  Kathy felt a single tear roll down her cheek. ‘I’m sorry, Mike. I didn’t mean any offence. That’s the last thing I’d want. I’m trying my best, really I am.’

  He shoved her aside, staring into the saucepan for a second or two, a look of utter disdain on his face.

  ‘What’s this shit?’

  Kathy shifted her weight from one foot to the other. ‘Um, it’s, err… it’s vegetable soup. All fresh, all organic. And seasoned just how you like it. Shall I fill you a bowl?’

  ‘Surely you don’t expect me to survive on that slop?’

  ‘It’s just a starter, that’s all. There’s Welsh lamb to follow. The very best, and with all the trimmings. All your favourite vegetables and mint sauce too.’

  He opened the cooker door, peering in before grabbing her by the hair, dragging her towards him and forcing her head inside the oven, face first.

  ‘Can you see any lamb cooking, Kathy? Take your time. Have a good look around because I couldn’t see a fucking thing when I looked. Perhaps I should give work a ring and call in a search team. Maybe a couple of sniffer dogs, huh? Perhaps they could find it. Maybe they’ll have more luck than I did. What do you think?’

  She was weeping now, her chest tightening as she gasped for breath. ‘But y-you arrived home early. I wasn’t expecting you for hours. How w-was I supposed to know?’

  Michael yanked her back, throwing her to the floor in one powerful movement.

  ‘Or perhaps you’d like to phone them yourself? You like ringing the police, don’t you, Kathy?’

  ‘I’m s-sorry.’

  He mimicked her
for a second time, screwing up his face. ‘Oh, please help me, Mr Policeman. My big, bad husband is hitting me again. Blah de, blah de, fucking blah! It was something like that, wasn’t it, bitch? When you rang last night. When you dialled 999 and screamed for help.’

  Kathy curled up into a tight ball, laying on the kitchen tiles in quivering silence as he loomed over her.

  ‘Have you got any idea how horrendously embarrassing your little drama was for me? I’ve got to work with those people on a daily basis. That young constable couldn’t get out of here quickly enough. He was absolutely crapping himself. Or did you miss that small fact?’

  ‘I’m sorry, I’m truly sorry.’

  ‘You’re mentally ill, Kathy. That’s what I’ve told them all. You are round-the-fucking-bend, my cross to bear. And they believe me. They sympathise. They swallow every word I say.’

  ‘I kn-know they do.’

  He glared down at her, spitting, snarling; his face strangely distorting.

  ‘Oh you do, do you? Madam knows! Be very careful, bitch. You’re playing with fire. Call the police again and you may kill yourself next time. You may take a blade and slash your throat from ear to ear, blood splashed everywhere, with your worthless life draining away to oblivion. Do you understand what I’m saying to you? Do you get my meaning? I could make your death look self-inflicted in the blink of an eye. You were depressed, suicidal with unresolved grief. That’s all I’d have to say in explanation at any inquest. Your death would be of no consequence to me or anybody else, none at all. If you want to know something, know that. You may live a little longer if you do.’

  ‘I’m s-sorry. I shouldn’t have rung. I realise that now. I r-really shouldn’t have rung.’

  Michael rested his boot on the side of her head, pressing down. ‘No, you shouldn’t have. And you won’t do it again, will you, bitch? Not even you’d be that stupid. Because no one is ever going to listen to you. They’re never going to listen to anything you say. And then you’d pay the ultimate price.’

  ‘No.’

  He increased the pressure, agitating his foot to and fro as if grinding a discarded fag butt into the gutter. ‘No what, Kathy? No fucking what? Spell it out, bitch. Plead your case.’

  ‘No, I w-won’t ring again.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Yes, I’m sure.’

  ‘Repeat yourself. I couldn’t hear you through all that pathetic snivelling.’

  Kathy repeated herself – louder this time – and hated herself for it.

  ‘Now that was much better. A lesson learnt. No one’s ever going to help you. Not the police, not your mother and not that moronic twin sister of yours. Because they all think you’re totally bonkers, as crazy as a bag of monkeys, loop the fucking loop. No one’s ever going to take anything you say seriously. Not for a single second. They’ve got their own lives to worry about. They don’t give a flying fuck about you and your issues. And if you try to leave again, I’ll find you. I’ll bring you back. Just like last time. Just like every time. And then you’ll suffer. You’ll really suffer. You’ll pay a heavy price for the inconvenience and irritation you’ve caused. You’re mine, Kathy. I own you. You’re my property to do whatever the hell I like with. Do you get it? Has it finally sunk into that thick head of yours? You’re less than human. You don’t have the same rights as real people.’

  ‘I’m s-sorry.’

  ‘Repeat it.’

  ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘Louder!’

  ‘I’m sorry!’

  He held the sole of his boot to her mouth. ‘Lick it.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Just lick the fucking thing like the bitch you are.’

  Kathy slowly stuck out her tongue. She inched it closer and then began to rub the tip of it against the sole of his boot. She gagged, but then licked some more out of fear of the boot coming crashing down on to her mouth. Eventually, Michael pulled his foot away. He shifted towards the cooker, lifting the heavy saucepan, then dribbling hot soup over her legs before strolling casually around the kitchen and pouring it over the floor and various work surfaces.

  ‘Oh dear, now look what you’ve made me do, you stupid bitch. Useless, that’s what you are. You’re a mess, Kathy. I don’t know why I put up with you. You’re a fucking disgrace.’

  The bastard, the absolute bastard! ‘I’m s-sorry. I’ll try to do better. I promise I’ll do better.’

  Michael threw the saucepan to the floor. ‘What good does sorry do you? No fucking good at all, that’s what! You need to up your game, lady. Maybe then I wouldn’t have to punish you quite so often. Perhaps then you wouldn’t drive me around the fucking bend with every breath you take.’

  Kathy cringed, clutching her knees to her chest as he returned to her side. One day she’d escape the bastard. One day she’d get away.

  ‘I’ll do better. I promise I’ll d-do better.’

  He shook his head dismissively.

  ‘Oh yeah, that will be the day, little Kathy Conner performing her meagre responsibilities to an acceptable standard for once in her sad life. I’ve heard it all before, more times than I care to remember. You’re useless, woman. There’s more chance of you flying around the room like the witch you are.’

  Kathy glanced up with sad, heavy eyes and then quickly looked away, the fine hairs on her arms standing to attention, pressing against her sleeves. It seemed he’d had enough. He was losing interest. Thank God for small mercies.

  ‘I’ll try harder. I promise I’ll try harder.’

  ‘I’m heading back to work now to spend some time with people who matter. People who do something worthwhile with their lives, as I do. I strongly suggest you make certain that this place is utterly spotless by the time I get back. No shortcuts, no cutting corners, totally immaculate, not a hint of dust. Let’s see if you can actually live up to your promises for a change. Or are you full of crap as per usual?’

  Just go. Please go and never come back. ‘I’ll do m-my very best.’

  ‘I’ll be checking, make no mistake. I’ll be making a full inspection, every corner, every crevice, so I suggest you try to get it right for once. Come on, don’t just lay there lingering like a bad smell. You need to get on with it. Get on your feet. The clock’s ticking!’

  ‘I’ll start s-straight away. As s-soon as you’ve gone through the door.’

  He smirked sardonically. ‘And you’ll do your best? Just like you said. As you promised.’

  ‘Yes, absolutely, I’ll clean every inch of the room to the very best of my ability.’

  He picked up his cap, tossed it in the air, caught it casually, walked towards the hall, then called out without looking back.

  ‘Oh, I’m sure you will, Kathy. But the problem is, your best is never good enough. It never was, and it never will be.’

  2

  Inspector Michael Conner looked up and smiled as Detective Sergeant Sarah Hodgson approached his table with a cup of freshly brewed tea in one hand and a bacon roll in the other. ‘All right, Sarah, long time no see.’

  She sat opposite him, picking up a bottle of brown sauce. ‘Yeah, I haven’t been based here for very long. So I thought, what the hell, why not take full advantage of the canteen now that I’ve got the opportunity?’

  Conner sipped his drink, smiling for a second time, revealing even white teeth that shone.

  ‘So, how’s life treating you? Someone mentioned that you’ve got engaged. Who’s the lucky guy?’

  Hodgson reached out her ring hand with a grin, enjoying the attention. ‘Jonathan Sharp, Jon Boy, you must know him, he’s a DC in the Charles Cross area.’

  Conner nodded his recognition.

  ‘Ah, yes, of course I do. Nice bloke, we trained together years back.’

  She took a bite of the roll and nodded.

  ‘Oh yeah, I remember Jon saying something now that you mention it. He’s planning to get in touch before the stag night if you fancy it?’

  ‘Sounds good to me.’

&nb
sp; ‘You can keep an eye on him for me. Make sure he comes back in one piece.’

  Conner slurped his coffee and laughed.

  ‘Good luck with that, the lads tend to make the most of it when they get together for a celebration. He may well end up handcuffed to a lamp post with his trousers and pants around his ankles.’

  ‘I hope they don’t go over the top, that’s all.’

  ‘So, when’s the big day?’

  ‘January fifth, in Cuba! It was Jon’s idea. And his mum and dad are paying for it all, God bless them. There are fifteen of us going over together from Gatwick. Just family and a few close friends. It looks like a beautiful place from what I’ve seen online. I can’t wait. It’s going to be brilliant.’

  ‘It all sounds wonderful. I wish you every happiness. You both deserve it.’

  She paused before responding.

  ‘How’s Kathy, Mike? I heard things aren’t so great.’

  He removed a clean white cotton hankie from a trouser pocket, dabbing at each of his eyes in turn as they reddened and filled with tears.

  ‘So, what did you hear?’

  ‘That she’s been making wild allegations again.’

  Michael dropped his head, focussing on the tabletop to avoid her gaze.

  ‘It’s been absolutely horrendous, to be honest. I don’t know what to do for the best. Kathy’s been on antidepressants for months, but they don’t seem to be helping in the slightest. She’s never been the same since losing the baby last year, that’s the truth of it. It hit us both so very hard, but Kathy just can’t come to terms with our loss. It’s as if it happened yesterday. She was so very happy when she found out she was pregnant, making plans, decorating the baby’s bedroom, choosing names, buying the cot and everything that goes with it. But then a few weeks later the baby was gone, as if he’d never existed in the first place. Life can be so very cruel.’