‘Must be the one at the end,’ Zoe Everett said.
‘Numbering always seems cock-eyed on estates like this,’ Annie said.
‘Probably because they keep squeezing in more and more houses. It’s a bit of a jumble, isn’t it?’
Loscoe was a former mining village in the heart of the county, north of Derby. Like many of the towns and villages in the area, it had undergone a transformation in recent decades. The pits that had once sustained the area were long gone, along with the slag heaps and pit buildings that had once dominated places like this. The land around had been landscaped and, as far as possible, returned to its former rural state. Only the occasional glimpse of a remaining set of headstocks, retained for heritage purposes, gave any sense of what this region had once been.
The result was a sometimes disconcerting mix of country and city. Through the houses, it was possible to see green open fields and gentle hills, but the houses were often rows of narrow terraces of a type more commonly found in urban locations. Many of the people living in these villages commuted to work in and around Derby or Nottingham. The area wasn’t exactly poor, but Annie knew there were significant pockets of deprivation.
The Parkins’ address was in an estate on the edge of the village. Most of the houses looked as if they dated back to the 1970s, although some parts of the estate appeared much newer. The house was at the far end of what had been the original central road in the estate, now criss-crossed with numerous side avenues. It was a pleasant-looking bungalow, set a little back from the road, with a neatly tended front garden. It looked like the residence of an older, probably retired couple. Not the kind of place she could imagine a young man like Darren Parkin living. But then they knew almost nothing about Darren Parkin, which was why they were here.
As they climbed out of the car, Zoe gestured almost imperceptibly towards the neighbouring house, another similar bungalow. ‘Literal twitching curtains.’
Annie gave a surreptitious glance back and saw that she was right. Someone in the neighbouring house had pulled back the net curtain and was peering out at them. ‘Must be a quiet day in Loscoe.’
‘Judging from the pristine state of these gardens, every day’s a quiet day. Wish mine was as tidy as this.’
The rain had stopped and a faint late-afternoon sun was struggling through the clouds. Annie led the way to the Parkins’ front door. The whole house looked well-maintained, Annie thought. The exterior had been repainted in the last year or two, and the windows were spotlessly clean. It wasn’t a luxurious or imposing house, but she guessed the owners were well enough off. She pressed the doorbell.
The door was opened so promptly that their arrival must have been observed here too. Clearly, this wasn’t an area that received many unexpected visitors. The door was held on a chain, and a face peered out at them.
‘Mr Parkin?’
‘Yes?’
Annie held her warrant card close to the opening. ‘DI Delamere and DS Everett. I wondered if we might have a word with you?’
‘Police?’ The door closed and then reopened, this time with the chain removed. ‘Is this about Darren?’
‘I’m afraid it is. May we come in?’
‘Yes, of course.’ He gestured for them to pass him into the hallway. The interior of the house was as Annie had envisaged – neat, slightly fussy, well-maintained. ‘Come through. Meg, it’s the police, I’m sorry to say.’ The last statement was addressed to an elderly, white-haired lady who was in the process of switching off the television, apparently struggling with the complexities of the remote control.
‘The police?’ She finally managed to deal with the television, and rose unsteadily from the armchair. ‘Is this about Darren?’
Annie was already intrigued that the couple seemed unsurprised by their arrival. ‘I’d ask you both to sit down. I’m afraid I’ve some bad news.’
This time, Parkin did look surprised, as if the tone of Annie’s voice hadn’t been what he’d expected. ‘About Darren?’
‘There’s no easy way for me to say this. I’m afraid Darren has been found dead. I’m sorry.’ There ought to be a softer way to break this kind of news, but she knew it was important to leave no room for ambiguity.
‘Dead?’ Whatever Parkin had been expecting her to say, it clearly wasn’t this. ‘My God. How?’
‘I’m not able to go into too much detail at this stage, Mr Parkin. But we think he was the victim of an unlawful killing.’
‘You mean he was murdered?’
‘I’m afraid so. Your son—’
‘You mean grandson,’ Meg Parkin interrupted.
Annie exchanged a glance with Zoe, knowing she should have confirmed this at the start. In retrospect, it should have been obvious the couple were likely to be too old to be the parents of a son in his early twenties, and it was standard policy to establish the relationship before informing a relative of a death. ‘I’m sorry…’
Meg Parkin shook her head. ‘No, don’t be. Ron and I looked after Darren like a son.’
‘I’m very sorry. This must be distressing for you.’
Ron Parkin looked up. ‘In a way it is. But I can’t say I’m entirely surprised.’
‘Ron…’ his wife interjected.
‘Oh, I know. Don’t speak ill of the dead. But you know it’s true.’
‘You didn’t seem surprised when I told you we were police officers.’ Annie decided she might as well take advantage of Ron Parkin’s unexpected honesty. She’d pull back if Meg Parkin began to seem distressed, but both grandparents appeared so far to have accepted the news calmly.
Ron nodded. ‘I wasn’t. It wasn’t the first time we’d received a visit. Though the previous times were less shocking than this.’
‘We know that Darren had a criminal record. That was how we were able to confirm his identity. But they were relatively minor offences, and some years ago.’
‘I don’t like to say it, but he was just a bad ’un,’ Ron Parkin said. ‘He was up to his ears in stuff. We used to get visits here…’
‘Ron’s right,’ Meg said. ‘I don’t want to be too hard on poor Darren. We did our best for him, but he was just out of control. Mixing with the wrong people.’
‘You said you received visits?’ Zoe prompted.
‘A couple of times. People looking for him,’ Meg Parkin said. ‘Thugs. He owed them money. They were trying to track him down.’
‘They threatened you?’
‘I wouldn’t say threatened. They were intimidating. But when it became obvious we didn’t know Darren’s whereabouts, they didn’t push it, I’m glad to say.’
‘He wasn’t living here then?’ Zoe asked.
‘Moved out when we was eighteen. Just didn’t want to be here. I can’t say I blamed him. To be honest, by that point we didn’t really want him here either. We were getting too old for that kind of thing. The kind of friends he had, the people he associated with. In fairness, he kept in touch, let us know he was all right. But he never came back.’
‘Do you know where he was living?’
‘Somewhere in Derby, I believe. He never gave us his address, and we never asked for it. When we got those visits, I was glad I hadn’t.’
‘Did you inform the police about the visits?’ Zoe asked.
Ron Parkin nodded. ‘I did the second time it happened. They were sympathetic but couldn’t do much. Said to call them immediately if they returned. But it was just those two times. Couple of years ago now.’
‘Do you have any idea what Darren was doing? Work? Friends?’ Annie would normally have been reluctant to take the interview as far as this in the circumstances, but she sensed the Parkins were keen to talk. As if this was an opportunity to offload all the anxieties they’d felt about their grandson. She guessed that, for all Ron Parkin’s harsh words, they’d felt more for Darren than they might be prepared to admit.
‘Not really. He had no real qualifications. He was trouble at school as well. From the little he said to us, I got the impression he was mainly doing bar work. Last time he was in contact, a few months back, he was saying he’d got some big opportunity.’
‘He didn’t tell you what?’
‘No. I thought it was all just nonsense. He was always exaggerating. He reckoned he had a load of friends, but he never told us who any of them were. I don’t imagine the names would have meant anything to us anyway.’
‘Did he have any friends locally? From before he moved out, I mean.’ Despite the Parkins’ honesty, this was proving less informative than Annie had hoped. It was clear the grandparents knew almost nothing about Darren’s recent circumstances.
‘There were one or two,’ Meg Parkin said. ‘From when he was at school. Gang of tearaways. I can give you a couple of names and tell you the streets where they lived, I think. But I don’t know if any of them will still be living there.’
‘Anything would be helpful,’ Annie said, sincerely. ‘If we can track them down, they might have kept in touch with Darren.’
‘It’s possible,’ Meg Parkin said, though her expression suggested doubt. She thought for a moment. ‘There was a Carl. Carl Francis, I think. They lived somewhere over in the council estate.’ After a moment, she came up with a street name. ‘I’ve pretty sure that’s where he lived. I don’t know the number, I’m afraid.’
‘That’s fine,’ Annie said. ‘It gives us somewhere to start. Is there anyone else?’
‘Who was that other one?’ Ron Parkin said. ‘Arrogant little toerag.’
‘Jonny,’ his wife said, after a moment. ‘Jonny Garfield. Lived with his dad, didn’t he?’ Again, she was able to come up with an approximate address. ‘I’m pretty sure his dad’s still there. I’ve seen him once or twice in the supermarket, so he’s still living somewhere nearby, anyway.’
‘That’s very helpful,’ Annie said. ‘Look, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t really have been asking you these questions. Not now. Are you both okay? This must have been a shock for you.’
Meg Parkin exchanged a look with her husband. ‘It’s a shock, of course it is. But we both felt we lost Darren a good while ago. We’ve both been expecting – well, not this, but some sort of bad news. It was only a matter of time.’
‘Would you like us to arrange for someone to be with you? A friend or relative?’
Ron Parkin shook his head. ‘I don’t think we need anything like that. We’ll be fine.’ He paused, thinking. ‘What about the funeral? That kind of thing.’
‘We won’t be able to release Darren’s remains for a while,’ Annie said. ‘In the circumstances. But when we do… I assume you’re his next of kin.’
There was a hesitation before Meg Parkin responded. ‘I suppose we must be.’ She looked to her husband to help.
‘The reason we ended up looking after Darren,’ Ron Parkin said, ‘was that his mother, our daughter, left him with us.’
‘I don’t understand,’ Annie said. ‘Left him?’
‘She was a single mother,’ Ron Parkin said. He stopped for a moment, as if unsure how much more to say. ‘It’s a long story. She wouldn’t tell us who the father was. She claimed it was someone she’d met at a party and she couldn’t track him down anyway. I don’t know if that’s true, but there wasn’t much we could do.’
‘But you helped her look after the child?’
‘She was our daughter. What else were we supposed to do? We’re not exactly rich but I’ve a decent pension – I was a pit deputy – so we could afford to help her.’
‘What happened to your daughter?’
‘I wish we knew,’ Meg Parkin said. ‘It wasn’t the easiest relationship, especially after Darren was born. But we loved her, and we thought she still loved us. We supported her as best we could, and we looked after Darren so she could get out to work. But I think she resented how much her life was constrained, and, to be honest, I think she resented having to be dependent on us. Eventually she walked out.’
‘Walked out?’
‘Just like that. We realised afterwards she must have been planning it for some time. Had been saving money, had moved some of our stuff out. One day she just went off, supposedly to work, and never came back.’
‘She left Darren?’
‘She left Darren,’ Meg Parkin said.
‘You tried to find her?’
‘Of course. But she’d walked out on her job as well, also without warning. She’d said nothing to anyone there about what she was planning. We contacted her friends – or at least those we knew about – but no one admitted knowing anything. I don’t know whether or not they were telling the truth, but I suspect she had other friends that neither of us knew about.’
‘Did you report her missing?’
‘Eventually.’ Meg Parkin allowed Annie a smile. ‘No offence, but the police have never seemed to be able to help us very much. They were very sympathetic. But what it came down to was that she was an adult, she wasn’t vulnerable, and we had no evidence she hadn’t simply left of her own free will. I don’t know what the police did, if anything, but I guess they didn’t pursue it too far.’
Annie imagined that was probably true. If there was no evidence of foul play, and no obvious reasons for concern, there would be no strong reason for the police to devote resources to this kind of case. It was unusual for a mother to leave her child behind but not unprecedented, especially when the child had been left in apparently safe hands. ‘And you’ve still no idea where she is?’
‘We’ve heard nothing since she walked out. We expected that at some stage she’d have been in contact if only just to let us know she was safe. But we heard nothing.’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘It was a long time ago,’ Meg Parkin said. ‘We spent years agonising about what had happened, hoping one day we’d get that phone call or letter. But it didn’t happen, and by then we were more focused on dealing with Darren. Eventually we were made his legal guardians.’
‘How old was he when his mother left?’
Meg Parkin looked at her husband. ‘He must have been… what, seven or eight?’
‘He was seven,’ Ron Parkin said with certainty. ‘I remember how much we spent on his eighth birthday, as if that was going to compensate for his mother walking out.’
There was an edge of bitterness in his voice, Annie thought. ‘I’m sorry. I really shouldn’t be dredging up this stuff for you at a time like this. You’re sure you’ll both be okay?’
‘I think so, don’t you?’ Ron Parkin said. ‘If we’ve lost something, it didn’t happen today.’
Annie could think of no immediate response. ‘We’d better not take up any more of your time. We’ll keep you informed about Darren and what’s happening on the case generally.’
‘Case?’ Meg Parkin said. ‘Oh, I suppose you need to investigate.’
Her words confirmed Annie’s suspicion that the couple hadn’t fully taken on board what she’d told them. It was often the way. People heard the parts they wanted to hear, and didn’t necessarily process the rest. In this case, she felt the Parkins hadn’t registered much more than that their grandson was dead. ‘We’re looking into the circumstances of his death, yes. I’m afraid the story may gain some media coverage, but we’ll give you advance warning if that’s likely to happen and we can provide support if it causes any problems.’
‘Media coverage?’ For the first time, Meg Parkin looked genuinely alarmed. ‘You mean the newspapers and TV?’
‘It may happen. We try to manage these things as carefully as we can, but there may be a need to release details of the case to the media, yes.’
‘Including our identities?’ Ron Parkin said.
‘Not necessarily, no. We’ll be as discreet as possible, but in a murder case we do need to be transparent. And the media have a habit sometimes of digging further than we’d like. If it comes to it, we’ll give you all the support we can.’ She almost wished now that she hadn’t raised the topic, but she knew that, with two apparently linked killings, they wouldn’t be able to keep a lid on this for long.
‘We won’t keep you any longer.’ Annie pulled one of her business cards out of her pocket and handed it over to Meg Parkin. ‘We’ll keep you informed as much as we can, and we may need to talk to you again as the enquiry proceeds. But if you need anything, or if you think there’s anything you can tell us about your grandson that might be useful to us, please do contact me on that number.’
Meg Parkin scrutinised the card for a moment, as if suspicious of its provenance. ‘Thank you for coming,’ she said after a moment. ‘It might not have sounded like it, but we loved Darren. We really did. What’s happened is awful.’
‘You have our deepest sympathy, Mrs Parkin. And we’ll do everything in our power to find out what’s behind his death.’ Annie spoke the last words sincerely, but she knew that in reality they were little more than a platitude.
The expression on the Parkins’ faces suggested that they had received her words almost as a kind of threat. For some people, Annie thought, the truth was perhaps better left buried.