I’m totally wrapped in his wholly cynical, nevertheless realistic speech. ‘Occasionally, if some of my colleagues need some under-the-counter information, Danny Greene will help them out. In return, if Miriam or anyone else that he takes a shine to gets into a bit of bother, certain officers will see what they can do. Within the limits of their job of course. I don’t have anything to do with him. Danny Greene is a grandmaster of the scam.’
I don’t appreciate what he’s saying. Danny’s only doing what any father would do, using every resource in his power to help Miriam.
Now it’s time to kill my other bird. ‘Four black women went missing in 1994. Is that what Sugar is investigating?’
The way Commander Dixon’s whole body rebuilds itself into a brick wall blocking every last emotion startles me. I’ve seen patients do that when they’ve just been given bad news. But I’ve never seen it done so effortlessly.
Quickly, I carry on. ‘He won’t admit anything to me. Did he tell you about the burglary? That someone deliberately targeted the room where he keeps all the information on this case?’
Below my lashes I watch this policeman with the towering reputation closely to catch a change in his features. A tightening of skin, a paling of the shade of his flesh, the lift and fall of his breath. In fact, what he does is what Sugar did after I confronted him about his secret room; become relaxed, calm and measured. Maybe that’s what they taught them back in the day at the police academy.
I press, ‘He’s trying to persuade you to open or re-open an investigation into their disappearance, isn’t that right? Does he have new evidence?’
Dixon surprises me by pouring me another coffee. ‘I met Sugar in 1985 at the police academy in Hendon. He was one of the only two cadets of colour in our year.’ His chin lifts slightly as if he is battling sinking too far in the past. ‘The racism was shocking and mainly from other recruits. The other cadet of colour left after a week, but not Sugar. Sugar never let it faze him. In fact, I felt him grow and nourish himself on their disgraceful hate. He was a trailblazer, paving the way for others. Two years later, Sugar managed to persuade the other trainee who dropped out, to come back. Respect doesn’t adequately cover what I have for him.’
His gaze sharpens. ‘Which is why I will not be discussing a confidential discussion I had with him with his daughter.’
And it’s because I’m Sugar’s daughter that I won’t give up. ‘Maybe you can tell me this: four women go missing, black women, and I can’t find anything about it in the press at the time or any mention of a police press conference.’
Ronnie’s words flash before me: ‘Black women are never going to be angelic-looking for their audience or their readers.’
So, I gently challenge, ‘Why has there been so much coverage of the Poppy Munro disappearance from the same year but zero focus on these women?’
The grooves in Dixon’s cheeks deepen. Ah! I’ve rattled his cage. ‘Let me assure you that the police service takes every reported crime seriously. That resources are fairly and consistently allocated according to need.’
I bite back at his management-speak babble. ‘You’re not at a conference now, Commander, facing the press.’ I stand. ‘Although the women could have done with one back then. Hope, Amina, Sheryl and Veronica, that’s what their names are.’
He’s on his feet too. Shakes my hand and escorts me to the door. When he opens it, I have one final question. ‘Did you have any dealings with the Suzi Lake Centre in 1994?’
Is my mind playing tricks on me or does Commander Dixon flinch?
CHAPTER 30
No Name
‘What’s that?’
A loud child’s voice makes me jump. I raise my bowed head from my hands. Oh, my dayz! There’s a little girl in the doorway, her finger is pointed straight at my larger than large belly. The child’s face is as bright as a summer’s day. I feel like she is the first bit of sunshine I’ve had in my life for the last four months. Things are bad now, really bad. I feel so low. So unhappy and miserable I just want to disappear and die. Before she arrived I’d had my head in my hands feeling defeated. Some days I’m tempted to forget all about the shame I’ll bring down on my family, gather my courage and up and leave here with my fedora hiding my face from the passing world.
Wiping the tears away, I manage to find my best one-hundred-watt smile for the child. ‘What are you doing here?’
The kid sorta bounces into the room and tells me, ‘When it’s the holiday I come and visit with my grandmother.’ A naughty grin lights up her face. ‘I’m not meant to come upstairs.’ Her little finger’s still pointed at my belly. ‘What’s that?’