‘Like what?’ Elise said.
‘That would be up to them but in your situation, you didn’t break the law buying the Paradise or giving some to your friend. You had no reason to expect that the substance would cause harm, you took some yourself. So I really can’t see that any crime has been committed.’
Janet agreed and was very grateful that the man had tried to reassure Elise. But the irony kept hitting home; if Elise had bought weed or cocaine then she’d be liable for prosecution and in all likelihood Olivia would still be alive. The law-abiding option had proved the most deadly.
Rachel called at the newsagent’s first – to see if Liam Kelly knew the girl Shirelle’s address.
He shook his head. ‘I know who you mean but I’ve no idea which flat she’s in, sorry.’
Rachel was leaving when he said, ‘I hear you’ve arrested the Perrys.’
‘No names at this stage,’ she said.
He shook his head. ‘That poor bloke.’ Word had yet to reach the public that another two victims had been found.
Hawkins House was just across the way from the shops, beside Beaumont House, home to the Perry twins. A concrete pile with a buzzer entry system.
Rachel pressed a few buttons, a disembodied voice answered, ‘What?’
‘DC Rachel Bailey, Manchester Metropolitan Police.’
‘He’s not here,’ the voice said, ‘he’s still in Strangeways. Don’t they tell you anything?’
‘Who am I speaking to?’ Rachel said.
‘The Wizard of Oz,’ the woman said and the line went dead.
Rachel peered inside through the safety glass and could see the lights on the lift shaft changing, someone coming down.
Rachel waited and watched as a young woman emerged dragging a buggy. She swung it round and headed for the door. The child in the pram was huge, fat-faced. Could babies be obese? Rachel had no idea.
As the girl came out, Rachel held the door, showed her warrant card. ‘I’m looking for Shirelle?’
The girl blinked rapidly. ‘Shirelle?’ she repeated.
‘Look, you can tell me which number now, make life that bit easier, or I can fart around getting her address from the DWP or the housing office, which would really piss me off.’
The girl seemed to be weighing up the options.
‘Might be tempted to get the DWP to check you’re getting the right benefits while I’m there,’ Rachel said.
The baby began crying and kicking its legs. A grating, droning noise that made Rachel want to clamp her hand over its face. Perhaps the mother felt the same. The girl sighed and said, ‘311.’
Rachel stepped aside, letting her pass. She took the stairs, reckoned it might be better than the lift, but she still had to breathe through her mouth to minimize the stink of piss. The smell of skunk hung heavy in the building too, unmistakable.