Jan moved to the window, and sighed. ‘What the bloody hell is going on around here?’
‘I don’t know,’ said Mark, running a hand over his hair. ‘And White’s dead, so we can’t ask him.’
Chapter Forty-Five
Ewan Kennedy lowered the report in his hand as Jan knocked on his office door, and beckoned.
‘Good timing.’ He waited until she and Turpin had taken their seats, and then raised an eyebrow. ‘Well, what have you two been up to? I was about to send out a search party.’
‘We were planning to speak to Noah Collins about some withdrawals Nigel White made from the ATM in the Farriers Arms on the night Jessica was murdered,’ said Turpin, ‘but when Jan phoned to see if he was around, Sonia answered the phone and told us Bethany was missing – she hadn’t turned up for work today.’
‘We tried to phone her, but there was no response,’ said Jan. ‘When we got to her house, she was pretty shaken up. She said Nigel White had visited her when she got home from work on Wednesday afternoon – and that ties in with the timing MacKenzie Adams provided. He told us that White left the yard at three o’clock on Wednesday, saying he had to return to the cottage.’
Kennedy rubbed a hand over his chin. ‘Any idea what he wanted with Bethany?’
‘She said he told her she had to stop asking questions of her own about Jessica’s death,’ said Turpin. ‘She seemed shocked when we told her that White had hanged himself.’
The DI dropped the report he had been reading to his desk and shoved it towards them, then leaned back in his chair.
‘I hate to be the bearer of more bad news, but that’s Gillian’s preliminary findings from the post mortem this morning. She reckons White didn’t kill himself.’
‘What?’ Jan leaned forward as Turpin began to flick through the pages, his brow furrowed.
‘You can take that and read it at your leisure, but the short version is that she found marks on White’s neck that suggest to her that he was strangled first, then strung up to make it look like he hanged himself. She’s included some photographs on page five, so you can see what she means.’
‘Jesus,’ said Turpin. ‘Anything from the forensics team to support this?’
‘We’re still waiting on the handwriting analysis,’ said Kennedy, ‘and, according to Jasper, it’ll be a few days yet before the specialist laboratory finish processing all the samples taken from the property. I take it the cottage isn’t the cleanest residence…’
‘It’s a pigsty,’ said Jan. ‘They’ll have a hell of a job.’
‘Why use the bridle to hang him with?’ said Turpin, passing the report back to the DI. ‘Do you think the killer was sending a message to someone by using that?’
Jan frowned. ‘Like Jessica being left to die on the gallops, you mean?’
‘Yes.’
‘Who’s the message for?’ said Kennedy. ‘MacKenzie Adams?’
‘Or Will Brennan,’ said Turpin.
‘Maybe.’ The DI stood, and ushered them out to the incident room before walking across to the whiteboard.
He stood for a moment, his eyes roaming the vast quantities of information that had been collated, and then called across to where Caroline and Alex sat. He waited until they joined them, and then tapped the first of the photographs stuck to the board.
‘I want Gillian’s findings kept from the media and public,’ he said. ‘At present, and as time passes, our killer is going to assume he’s got away with it, and that his ruse to shift the blame for Jessica’s death to White has worked. In the meantime – Alex, I want you and Caroline to start making some careful enquiries into these large sums of money that White was withdrawing from the ATM. Work with Jasper’s lot to find any evidence of gambling – betting slips, online gambling accounts, the lot. We know he was using one website, so see what else you can turn up. What about Jessica’s movements after leaving the pub on Monday night, Jan – anything from Noah and Sonia Collins?’
‘Sonia said she wasn’t aware of Jessica loitering around the pub after she left. She reckoned if she was waiting for someone, she would’ve waited inside, in the warm. And she confirmed she didn’t hear any car engines outside, either.’
‘Maybe she did meet up with Nigel, then,’ said Caroline.
‘Except we can’t ask him, ’cause he’s dead,’ said Alex. ‘So, we’re still in the dark about where Jessica was for at least half an hour prior to that streetlight being knocked out.’
Kennedy moved to the photograph of Jessica. ‘Jan, Mark – it’s late in the day, so get yourself over to her parents’ house first thing tomorrow. Find out if Jessica ever mentioned Nigel White to them, and in what context. Did he ever threaten her? We know now that he could be aggressive after what he said to Bethany, but we need to find out what connects the three of them. Ask them again if Jessica mentioned anything that was worrying her since she started working at MacKenzie Adams’ yard.’
Kennedy picked up a red marker pen, contemplated the whiteboard for a moment and then found a clear space in the top right-hand corner.
‘Right – suspects. Will Brennan. Gets cold feet about the engagement, and kills his girlfriend. Finds out White threatened her, and kills him. Probability?’
‘Low,’ said Turpin. ‘The two motives don’t tie in – if the deaths occurred the other way around, then maybe, but not like this. And if Brennan was out exercising the horses when White went back to the cottage on Wednesday afternoon, he didn’t have time to go there and kill him.’
‘All right. Bethany Myers. Pissed off that her ex-boyfriend is getting engaged to someone else, and clobbers Jessica. She takes umbrage at being beaten up by White, and kills him.’
‘If she had the means to convince Jessica to go to the gallops that night, then possibly,’ said Jan. ‘But White? No – she’s a slip of a girl. She’d never overpower him. There’s no way she’d have been able to strangle him and then hoist him up to simulate a hanging. She’s not strong enough.’
‘Unless she had help,’ said Turpin.
Kennedy added a note, and then glanced over his shoulder at them. ‘Who else?’
‘What about Morgan Drake?’ said Caroline, then shrugged as they turned to look at her. ‘It’s just a thought.’
‘Let’s have it, then,’ said the DI.
‘The CCTV footage from the petrol station showing Drake hovering to speak to Jessica and acting all furtive.’
‘What do we know about him?’ said Kennedy, writing Caroline’s suggestion on the board.
‘He gives the impression of being landed gentry – big house, impressive outbuildings, obligatory horses in the paddock,’ said Jan, checking her notes. ‘But he continues to work in the finance industry – he said he invests wisely, which might explain how he came to own the pub as well.’
‘And, because Noah and Sonia Collins run the Farriers Arms on a day-to-day basis for him, it’s their names on the licence above the door, not his,’ said Turpin.
‘True. Okay, well, perhaps he has more to hide from us than just the fact that Noah and Sonia Collins run the Farriers Arms on his behalf,’ said Kennedy. ‘Look into what you can about his finances, and then we’ll make a decision with regard to how we proceed.’
‘Will do, guv.’
‘Right.’ The DI re-capped the pen. ‘Let’s see what you lot manage to come up with over the next twenty-four hours.’
Jan moved back to her desk, sifted through a dozen post-it notes that had been stuck over her computer screen and keyboard, and then dropped into her chair with a loud sigh.
‘Penny for your thoughts,’ said Turpin, peering over his screen at her.
She shrugged. ‘I was just going through in my head what I might say to Trevor and Wendy Marley tomorrow morning. They’re going to be expecting some answers by now, aren’t they?’
‘I’m sure they’ll appreciate us taking the time to give them an update, whatever we tell them. At least we can show them we’re still working to find out who killed
their daughter,’ said Turpin. He glanced up as an administrative assistant passed beside them, and lowered his voice. ‘Kennedy was right about the media, though – and I think we should tread carefully with what we tell the Marleys about White. I’m not sure now is the right time to tell them he might have been murdered as well.’
Jan’s shoulders sagged. ‘I know. I just felt really shitty turning up and lying to them. It’s as if we’re adding to their grief when they find out the truth, isn’t it? It’s not as if we even have something positive to tell them. We’ve got nothing.’
‘It wouldn’t serve any purpose telling them the truth about White now. It’d only take one reporter to ask if they had any information concerning the case under the pretence of telling them it’ll help.’ He screwed up two notes that had been left for him and pitched them into the wastepaper basket beside the desk. ‘You’ll be fine tomorrow, Jan. You’re good at what you do, and this isn’t an easy one.’
‘I suppose you’re right.’ She frowned. ‘I can’t work out the connection between the two of them, though.’
‘Well, I think you’re right about Bethany not being able to do that on her own. If she’s the one, then she needed help.’
‘Especially as she doesn’t have a full driving licence. I checked with the DVLA before we left the station – she’s only got a licence for the moped, and I can’t see her getting Jessica on the back of that, can you?’
‘Not really. Even if Jessica went willingly, how the hell would Bethany have ridden it to the middle of the gallops and then attacked her?’
‘And you don’t think Will is responsible?’
‘I don’t. I mean, it’s sheer bad luck he found both of them, but…’ Turpin sighed. ‘No. I don’t think it’s him.’
‘Has to be Drake, then,’ said Jan.
‘Motive?’
His colleague shrugged. ‘I’m not sure, yet. Jealousy, perhaps?’
‘I could understand that about Jessica, but why White?’
‘Maybe Drake heard White saying something bad about Jessica after she died, and took umbrage. There’s got to be a connection between Drake and White, hasn’t there?’
Turpin raked his hand through his hair. ‘You know, we haven’t once considered the fact that Jessica might not have been the nice person everyone has described. She might have done something to provoke her killer, not expecting her actions to have such terrible consequences.’
‘Well, it makes you wonder why she started working at Adams’ yard four weeks ago now, and why Drake felt compelled to try to speak to her while she was working at the petrol station.’
‘Don’t you believe what he told us about offering her a better job?’
‘I’m not sure what to believe right now.’
Chapter Forty-Six
Jan peered through the rain-soaked windscreen at the Marleys’ home, and shivered.
Despite Turpin’s assurances the previous evening that a milder day was forecast, she had pulled on a thick sweater over her blouse before leaving the house that morning, and her breath fogged in front of her face when she removed the key from the ignition and left the warmth of the car.
She fell into step beside her colleague, thankful that he kept a golfing umbrella on the back seat as they hurried across the road.
Bouquets of flowers were placed alongside the open gate, and while Jan glanced at the cards that fluttered from string tied around the wooden front fence, she saw a smattering of messages from well-wishers further afield than the local Oxfordshire area.
Jessica’s death had struck a nerve.
The garden bore the evidence of a grieving family – the lawn was unkempt and windblown leaves fluttered at the base of the wall under the front window.
Jan reached the front step and closed her eyes for a moment, then rang the bell.
Wendy Marley opened the door a few moments later, her face devoid of make-up and an exhausted look in her eyes. ‘Have you caught him? The man who killed my daughter?’
‘Mrs Marley, could we come in, please?’ said Jan. ‘We’d like to ask a few more questions.’
The woman’s face fell, and she stepped aside. ‘That’s a no, then.’
‘We’re doing everything we can,’ said Turpin.
Wendy Marley didn’t answer, and instead led the way through to the living room after shutting the front door. She gestured to the armchairs that Jan and Turpin had sat in over a week ago, and then called to the dog that was whining from its position on a bed under the window and lifted it onto her lap.
‘Is your husband in?’ said Jan.
‘No – he had to go into town.’ Wendy tugged a tissue from the pocket of her trousers, and dabbed at her eyes. ‘The coroner released Jessica’s body yesterday, so Trevor’s gone to get a death certificate. The registry office is only open until twelve today.’
Jan waited a few moments while the teenager’s mother composed herself, and then caught Turpin’s eye.
He nodded.
‘Wendy, we wondered if we might take a look at Jessica’s bedroom?’
‘Why? There were some police officers here last week doing that.’
‘There have been some developments in our investigation, and we’d like to see it through fresh eyes, as it were.’
‘Is this about the man who killed himself?’
Turpin leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. ‘We don’t know if the two deaths are connected at the moment, Mrs Marley. It is an angle of the investigation, but one we have to either corroborate or rule out.’
‘What are you looking for?’
Jan side-stepped the question. ‘Did Jessica enjoy her work at the Farriers Arms?’
‘She loved it.’ A faint smile crossed Wendy’s lips. ‘It’s lively there, and of course it’s where she met Will. Noah and Sonia trusted her – they were always telling me they couldn’t cope without her…. Oh.’
The teenager’s mother broke off as a tear rolled down her cheek, and Jan swallowed.
She hated traumatising the woman and asking her to talk about her daughter, but they desperately needed answers. Questioning a bereaved relative was essential, but required care.
She knew she would feel wrung out by the time they left the house.
‘Did Jessica mention anything about a job offer from Morgan Drake?’ she said.
Wendy sniffed, and shook her head. ‘No, but it wouldn’t surprise me if he did.’
‘Why’s that?’
‘Well, with him owning the Farriers, I’m sure she’d have spoken to him at some point – it’s the same with MacKenzie Adams. If Jess saw an opportunity to get some experience on her résumé that she thought might help her future prospects after college, she wasn’t shy in asking about work.’
‘What about her job at the racing stables?’ she said. ‘Had Jessica mentioned Nigel White to you?’
Wendy’s gaze wandered to the window as she stroked the dog’s ears. ‘Maybe a couple of times, but only in those last three weeks when she was working one day a week up at MacKenzie Adams’ yard. He was her supervisor, you see – once she got the job, she didn’t have much to do with MacKenzie.’
‘Did she tell you whether she was experiencing any issues with him about anything?’
‘No, not really. She might’ve said something about him being a bit short with her.’ Wendy sighed, and turned her attention to them both. ‘I’m sorry. I’m not being a lot of help, am I?’
‘Anything you tell us is a help,’ said Jan. ‘Do you know why he might have spoken to her in that way?’
‘I think he saw her as a waste of time. She did say that he’d said to her that she should watch herself around Adams, and that if she had any problems, she should talk to him.’ The woman sat upright. ‘Did he kill her? Adams?’
‘We’re still working through a lot of information at this time,’ said Turpin. ‘And while I think of it, we have to ask that you and your husband don’t talk to your friends or family about any of this, or the media if t
hey approach you.’
‘We’re at a critical point in our enquiries,’ said Jan, ‘and any speculation at this time could be damaging.’
‘I won’t be talking to them – any of them,’ said Wendy. ‘I know what social media can be like. I used to warn Jessica to stay away from it. As for the press… No, don’t worry – we won’t be speaking to them.’
She moved the dog from her lap, and it ran across the room to its bed before lying down. ‘Did you say you wanted to take a look at her bedroom?’
‘Please, Mrs Marley. If you wouldn’t mind.’
‘Go up the stairs – it’s towards the back of the house. Second door. It’s shut.’ Wendy closed her eyes. ‘I can’t bear to go in there yet.’
Jan rose from the armchair and pursed her lips at the woman’s grief. ‘We won’t be long, and we’ll be very careful with her things.’
‘Thank you.’
Two minutes later, she stood in the centre of Jessica’s bedroom, her heart aching for the childless mother downstairs.
A faint scent of citrus perfume clung to the air, a blonde hair clutching at the seam of the pillow on the bed, and a clutter of textbooks and notebooks covered a desk in the corner that also served as the teenager’s dressing table.
She wandered across to it, her eyes falling upon the photographs that had been placed in silver frames on each side of a mirror. In one, Jessica stood between her parents, arms around their shoulders, a huge grin on her face as they’d posed for the camera. The other photograph was of Jessica, Bethany Myers and two other girls outside the college grounds, all of them pulling faces for the camera.
While Turpin began to work his way through Jessica’s bedside table and wardrobe, Jan busied herself with the contents of two drawers under the desk.
Wendy Marley was right – uniform had searched the teenager’s bedroom last week, but with Nigel White’s death and a new context to the investigation, it had to be done again.
She checked the bedroom door was shut, and then glanced over her shoulder. ‘Do you think Jessica was blackmailing someone, and Nigel found out?’
Her Final Hour Page 20