Human Frailty, a Detective Mike Bridger novel (32 page)

Bridger had tuned out a little as the
mechanics of his brain started slowly turning. An idea sparked
inside his head, just a slight hunch but enough to grab onto and
see where it would go. He knew one arrogant ex copper that had his
hands all over this, and another, still serving that could help
fill in a few holes.

Jo looked at the old woman crying and
praying in front of her, so much pain was coursing through her, a
lifetime of hurt and sorrow. How could someone endure so much and
still have faith in a higher power? Where was her god when she went
through all her torment? She wondered if Mrs. Watson had ever asked
herself that question, and if she had what conclusions, she had
come to.

Jo had seen a lot in her short time with the
police, she had seen the good and the bad in people. Something that
would always stay with her was the capacity for most people to
endure anything thrown at them. She looked at the monitor
displaying Marion in all her degraded glory, bloody and defeated
yet she could still see her eyes moving around. It was a defiance
that only a strong mind could show and strong minds could heal. She
only hoped that Marion's mind would have the chance to heal. She
spoke as gently as she could to Mrs. Watson.

"How did it finish?
”

Mrs. Watson looked back at Jo with a sad
smile on her face.

"I was unconscious for a while, I don't know
how long. Maybe I slept as well, who knows, but when I finally
woke, it was the next day. I was alone in the room; there was blood
all over the bed linen. The sun was shining outside; it shone
through my window, glinting off the dust in the air. I lay there in
my bed, covered in blood. I could not feel anything on my face, as
it was numb and swollen. I tried to call out to my son, but the
words would not leave my mouth. I tried sitting up but the pain
returned. The dry wounds on my lips opened up and I could feel the
wetness on my mouth. I could not move. The pain trapped me in my
bed. I wondered if my husband was still in the house. I could not
hear any noise, so that told me he was not home.

My son did not make a lot of noise in the
house; he would usually sit quietly in his room for hours,
especially after an incident like that. I saw Glenn's shirt was
still lying on the floor. I knew he would come back for it; he
would come back for me. Everything would be all right.

Well he did come back, but when he did, it
was not all right. He told me that my son was dead; that my husband
had beat him to death and then committed suicide. I did not feel
anything but relief, constable, how terrible a person I must be,
but at the time, it was escape. I was free of him and my son was
free of us. I did not question him any further; I did not even ask
to see the bodies. I actually felt sorry for him, having to deal
with my mess. He looked so out of his comfort zone, Glenn was so
young back then as well, I doubt he had the maturity to deal with
it all properly. He came to see me in the house during the next day
or two, but by then my mental health had deteriorated rapidly, I
was having a break down.

He booked me into the hospital and that was
where I stayed for the next 6 months. Glenn did not come to see me
in there; I went through that on my own. When I came out I was
stronger, but I would never forget what had happened to my son
because of me".

"What happened to Glenn", Jo asked.

"I did not see anything of him after that,
he never tried to contact me and I thought it was not my place to
contact him. I got on with my life, eventually met someone else,
Marion was born and life went on".

Mrs. Watson looked back at the now blank
screen

"When she went missing it was Glenn I
thought of first. He had helped me all those years ago, I trust
him. He was not hard to track down; I see his face on all those
billboards around the town. I knew he would know what to do".

Jo realised who Mrs. Watson was talking
about, and then remembered she had seen that person with inspector
Matthews. Trust was not the words she would have used hearing Mrs.
Watson's description of this man. She looked at Mrs. Watson's
anguished features, then back at Marion on the screen. Glenn
Gallagher may be a big shot now but he certainly did not start out
that way.

Gillian was suffocating in the small room
with the sniveling girl in the corner. Her attitude towards her was
now bordering on contempt. "Stop acting like a spoilt child, Beth,
we found you breaking windows. The sooner you start talking to us
the sooner we can get this sorted out", she said.

Then we can both go home, she thought.

Beth just sat there slowly and gently
banging the back of her head against the wall, tears mixing with
the dark eyeliner on her face slowly making its way down her
cheeks.

"Look Beth, let
’
s start again", Gillian
said, deciding to try another tact.

"I don't actually think I have introduced
myself properly. My names Gillian and I don't think I'm all that
bad a person". Gillian crouched down beside her in the corner, and
put a hand on her shoulder. "I'm just trying to help you".

Beth's eyes fluttered at the touch of
Gillian's hand on her shoulder.

"You know I knew a girl like you once, a
long time ago. She was tough, like you. She could hold her own in
any situation. She thought she was bulletproof. She was a top
athlete in her school, she had played in the top netball team, and
she had been someone. Nevertheless, inside she had these feelings
of inadequacy, as if she did not measure up to what people expected
of her. Those feelings were strong and it always held her back from
going further. Any little mistake she used to analyze continuously
in her mind until she had convinced herself that everybody had seen
it and were judging her on it".

Beth looked back at Gillian, her dark eyes
flickered an interest that Gillian saw straight away.

"When that girl left school, she joined the
police; she had an ideal in her head that she could make a
difference in people's lives. She was very young when she started,
hardly experienced anything in life. It was difficult".

Beth looked at the ground and shook her head
slightly.

"This job is not for everyone Beth it
takes a certain type of person and she did not know whether she
measured up, a bit like not everyone can go to university like you.
The problem was the feelings of inadequacy she had got worse when
she started work in what was essentially a man
’
s world. Her so-called
colleagues had made her feel inferior in many ways; she had to
fight for any respect or even recognition from them. She knew they
were all thinking, what could a mere female do in the rough and
tumble world of cops and robbers. She had no place in it all, which
can be very hard for a girl with the type of feelings she had
inside her. Then bit by bit, day after day, she found her place in
it all. You see as police officers we deal with all sorts of
issues. You see a lot of people with problems far worse that your
own. By helping them in any small way, she helped herself overcome
her own issues. Just by doing something positive in every
interaction you have can help. That is true for both sides of the
law. Just because someone has done something terrible, it does not
mean that they are bad, there are always reasons behind someone's
actions. No one is a true psychopath".

Beth placed a hand on Gillians. "That girl
was you weren’t it", she said.

"Yes Beth, it was", Gillian admitted, "But
I'm not that girl any more, I still have those feelings sometimes
though, I won't lie to you, but when I do I remind myself how far
I've come since those days. Others judge you by your actions and I
make sure that whatever I do I can be proud of, no matter how
small. It no longer matters to me what other people think, they
don't live inside my head, I do, and I have to like it".

Gillian could see a change behind Beth's
eyes, very subtle, but she could see a light in them that was not
there before. She could sense that Beth was in there, wanting to
interact with the world again.

"The house belongs to Daniel Crompton", Beth
said, quietly.

Now where getting somewhere, Gillian
thought.

"Ok Beth, why were you breaking Daniels
windows"?

"Because he's a tossed", Beth spat back.

Well it is a start, thought Gillian.

Bridger was making his way up to the third
floor. He was deep in thought about Glenn Gallagher and his
association with Matthews. It made sense that they would have
worked together in the early days. He had heard first hand Matthews
attitude about domestic violence, odds on that Gallagher thought
the same way. Both men cut from the same cloth; they had come up
together in the bad old days of cops and robbers. He thought they
were probably very controlling in their own relationships as well,
preferring the wife to be at home while they went out and provided
for them. Very normal, very old fashioned. It only worked for some
people these days, everybody wanted to feel like they
contributed.

He knew he could not just barge into
Matthews
’
s
office and demand that he tell him about any incidents he recalls
from the past that would shed light on what the puppet master was
saying. He was not even supposed to be still at work. His first
stop would be with Jo and Mrs. Watson. He had to known what the
connection was between her and Gallagher; it may give him some
ammunition to help with confronting Matthews.

As he approached the office, he saw that
Matthews had his door closed. The door was open in the office
further along which he knew Jo and Mrs. Watson were in. He could
hear the sound of crying and as he reached the door, he saw Mrs.
Watson in tears with Jo providing a comforting shoulder. He stood
at the door for a second and took in the sight.

It was such a natural act to comfort
someone. As a man he found it very difficult to comfort someone, he
did fell empathy for people but did not feel comfortable to express
those emotions physically to anyone other than people he loved. Jo
looked up and seemed startled. She said something quietly in Mrs.
Watson's ears then stood up. Bridger watched as she ran the back of
her hand over her left eye. Had she been crying as well? Jo
motioned for Bridger to move away from the door.

"Come into the hall Sergeant, I think there
is something you need to hear".

"What is it Jo?
”

"I've just listened to the most awful story
of Mrs. Watson's past life. I think it involves that Glenn
Gallagher that was in to see Inspector Matthews earlier. I know you
probably don't have time right now with Marion missing, but I think
I need to tell someone".

Bridger felt a surge of adrenalin, "Now
would be perfect Jo, fire away. But just give me the quick
version".

"Things have gone too far now Glenn,
Marion and that unknown male are in serious danger. We have to let
on what we know. The police force is a very different place now;
it
is
not
the same as when you left all those years ago. Have you any idea
what name he is using now".

"Don't lecture me on morality Gregg",
Gallagher
’
s
breathy voice was coming short and sharp over the telephone
receiver. "There is no way it will go that far. A little bit of
blood is nothing. Just let it play out, I am sure once he has said
his piece it will end there. Why do you think he is broadcasting it
over the Internet, he wants an audience to witness his mothers
suffering. He cannot be that stupid as to let them watch him commit
a crime though, it doesn't make sense".

"None of this makes sense Glenn, he is
a mad man. If he is who you think he is then you had a hand in
making him this way. You are the architect of this situation; he is
just the by-product of bad workmanship. If you had dealt with this
properly back then we would not be here now. So now
it
’
s your
turn to man up and make things right".

"Fuck that mate, I've got to much invested
in my own life to worry about the silly little problems of others.
You would be wise to think of yourself to. Marion will be fine,
trust me".

"I don't care what you think you have on me
Glenn, you need to tell me who he is so we can get on with some
real police work and stop a serious crime being committed".

Gallagher sighed on the other end of the
receiver.

"The only name I have for him is Daniel; I
don't even remember his surname. I suppose you can ask Mrs. Watson
what her married name was back then. I'm surprised you didn't
record it in your little note book that first night, you were
always recording things weren't you Gregg".

"Thank you Glenn, I will take it from
here".

Matthews was about to put down the
receiver.

"Whatever is said, I will deny it Gregg, and
I will leak what I know to the papers. Just you remember that when
you talk to him. The public is getting very sick of senior
officials and their skeletons, whatever job they are in".

Matthews could feel the vein in his forehead
pulsing against his sweaty skin. He spoke slowly, quietly,
deliberately.

"When we find him and Marion is safe,
I'm not going to talk to him Glenn, you are. You
are
going to explain yourself
and then we will see what skeletons rise from the grave to haunt
you. You said it yourself, whatever job you are in; the public are
getting sick of it".