Towers of Silence - [12]

I moved close to the parapet again. Leant on the railings and looked down, watched the people sliding past each other without contact. Strangers in the city. My mouth was dry. I stared at the ground, five storeys below, my head swam. When Miriam had let go, on the cusp of her descent, had she felt a flicker of relief? Felt peace approaching or terror thrilling in her veins? Or nothing? Save the wind on her face and the pulse in her ears?

A shout and a whoop of laughter made my nerves start and my heart leap. Down on Cannon Street two young women clutched each other giggling helplessly. All the world to live for. I turned away.

Chapter Nine

The man in the booth at the car park entrance pulled a face when I asked about CCTV footage.

“Hang on,” he rasped, he struggled to his feet and gestured to the side of the booth. “Come in,” he said irritably. He opened the door and waved me into the room. An ashtray full of fag ends sat on the table beside the console of screens. He sat and leant forward, pressed the switch for the microphone, his fingers were the colour of mustard. “Tony, to the office please.”

He twisted round to me. “Tony has more to do with the cameras.”

I nodded, leant back against the door of the boxy little office and prayed that Tony would arrive before I contracted lung cancer.

“Alright?” Tony opened the door and introduced himself in a Mancunian swagger: part question, part greeting. I moved to let him in.

“Young lady’s got some questions about CCTV tapes,” his colleague wheezed.

Tony tutted. “Confidential love, can’t help you.” He was a barrel of a man with a bald head.

“She’s a private detective,” the other said.

“Are you? Well, you’d know all about that then, wouldn’t you? Electronic surveillance, rules they have.”

“I’m working for the family of the woman who jumped from here back in October.”

His face flattened, eyes hardened. He didn’t enjoy the recollection.

“Horrible that was,” Wheezy chipped in.

“Doing what exactly?” Tony stared at me folded his arms defensively.

“The family have found it very hard to come to terms with what happened. They’ve asked me to try and find out what Mrs Johnstone was doing here, trace her last hours, that’s all. But I realised there’s nothing in the coroner’s report as far as I can see about the CCTV. There is a camera up there.”

Irritation flared in Tony’s eyes then he let it go, sighed. “Wasn’t working,” he said flatly.

“It was broken?”

“We’d no idea. Screens here looked fine, course no one here saw anything but you’re not watching every single minute. You’ve problems with the barrier, or people can’t remember where they were parked, out of petrol, always some crisis or other. The police asked to view the tape and then they find the camera’s faulty, or the tape was.”

“Head office weren’t best pleased,” Wheezy observed.

“They get the cheapest bloody equipment and then expect perfect bloody results.” It was obviously a bone of contention. Had Tony had an earful because of it? Not checking the cameras adequately?

Whatever, it meant there was no record of Level 5 for that day. I pictured Miriam arriving, had she used the lift, the stairs?

“I think maybe she came here on the bus. She hadn’t got a car, she didn’t drive. You’ve a camera at the pedestrian entrance, too.” I could see it on the screens and people queuing to pay before claiming their cars.

“Yeah,” Tony said.

“But they didn’t find anything on that?”

Tony shot an uncomfortable glance at Wheezy who promptly lit a cigarette and began to cough ferociously. Tony sighed, shook his head slightly.

“What?” I said.

“They never asked,” Tony replied.

“What?”

“They only asked us about the tape from Level 5.”

“But,” it was my turn to sigh. “Didn’t anyone think…” It seemed so obvious to me. Why on earth hadn’t the police asked to see all the tapes? “Didn’t you…”

It was the wrong thing to say. “What?” Tony challenged. “Not down to me, was it?”

A pause. I felt uncomfortable. “How long do you keep the tapes?”

“Four weeks and then we record over them.”

That was that then. I exhaled.

A loud squawk blurted from the intercom, making me jump. I caught a trace of amusement in Tony’s eyes. Someone with a faulty ticket. Wheezy looked at the screen, flicked a switch and lifted the barrier.

“Were you here, that day?”

Both men nodded.

“Can you tell me the sequence of events after it had happened?”

Tony shifted, shirty still at my implied criticism.

Wheezy coughed. “First we knew, a police officer comes in and tells us not to let anyone else in and they want to talk to all cars leaving the place. Was him that told us, that she’d jumped, like. By then the ambulance had come and there were police all over, looking round the place. They found her shoe, that’s how they knew it was level 5, because no one had actually seen her jump.” He blew smoke into the fuggy air. I tried to breathe as shallowly as possible.

“Place was shut for a couple of hours. They took the CCTV tape away, see if it would playback on their machines.” Tony shrugged. “That was more or less it.”

Wheezy cleared his throat in agreement.