‘Do you remember a local police officer visiting?’ Barry asked.
Catherine frowned. ‘Vaguely. She asked a few questions and took a look around. She was interested in the children’s health, I think, but also whether anyone had gone missing. I said I didn’t know because I was fairly new. The leaders were adamant that everyone was accounted for, but they couldn’t vouch for those who’d left.’
Sophie broke in. ‘You said “leaders,” plural. Who else had influence, other than this Tim Brotherton?’
Catherine sighed. ‘I can guess who you’re interested in. There was someone there called Trent Baker, an evil little bastard as far as I was concerned. He was manipulative and nasty. He’d arrived some time before me and, according to some of the other women, quickly wormed his way into a position of power. That was when one or two of the originals left and after that the group was never the same, according to what I heard.’ She stopped.
Sophie looked at her closely. ‘Was this the same Trent Baker who assaulted you not long afterwards? Who nearly killed you?’
Catherine looked at the floor. ‘Yes,’ she said quietly. ‘We had a fling just after I arrived, although it only lasted a few weeks. Just enough time for me to realise what a total creep he was. He never forgave me for giving him the elbow so publicly. We had some big arguments while the place fell apart. He accused me of stirring up trouble, but it was him, really. I refused to toe the line and do what I was told just because I was a woman. I mean, where are the principles and the equality in that?’
‘And was that the cause of the later murder attempt, do you think?’ Sophie asked.
‘Among other things,’ Catherine said. ‘He thought he could have any woman he wanted just by clicking his fingers. I told him where he could get off. The problem was, I said it in front of the group and he felt I’d humiliated him. It didn’t occur to him that he was demeaning all the women there by trying to force through his misogynist views. Most of the other men there were unhappy with him too. That’s what led to the big break-up. I suppose he saw me as a troublemaker, but I was speaking for most of the people there, men and women alike. They were all unhappy with him. Really, the place had outlived its sense of direction anyway, but he hurried it along towards its collapse. Nasty piece of shit.’
‘You don’t think anyone ever went missing from the farm, Catherine?’
She shrugged. ‘In the end, how would anyone know? People left when they’d had enough. Some told Tim or left a message. Others didn’t and just cleared off in the night.’
Barry broke in. ‘Did you ever hear the name Katie Templar mentioned?’
‘That was what that policewoman asked me. I hadn’t heard it then. It was a bit later, when I was asking around, that I found out there had been someone there with that name. She’d arrived at the start with Tim but had broken up with him and started a relationship with someone else, and they left together.’
‘Do you think that was before Trent Baker arrived?’
‘No. It was after. I know that because he talked about the pair of them once.’
‘Could Katie’s new man have been Paul Prentice?’ Sophie said.
Catherine shrugged. ‘I don’t know. I don’t think he was ever mentioned by name.’
‘Is there anything else you want to tell us?’ Sophie said quietly.
Catherine said nothing.
Sophie leaned forward. ‘Catherine? Is something worrying you? You look a bit anxious.’
Catherine sighed. ‘Yes. Trent’s just got out of prison. And something happened recently that I can’t explain. It was just weird.’
She told them about the ruined date and the mixed-up text messages.
‘There’ll be a court order banning him from coming near you or contacting you. That’ll be part of his parole conditions and it includes sending messages using someone else’s phone. If we can prove he did that, then he’ll be back inside. We were planning to see him later today, so a word of warning may be in order — if you agree.’
‘I want him locked up again or deported to the Antarctic or somewhere equally far away.’ Catherine looked straight at Sophie. ‘He won’t let things rest. Not him. I know what I’m talking about. He’s a snake and he’s got a long memory.’
*
From a secluded corner of the children’s play area at the end of Catherine’s street, Trent Baker watched the two visitors leave her house. His face was dark with anger.
‘Fucking cops,’ he muttered. ‘Spot them a mile off. Always sticking their noses in.’
He slid out from behind the climbing frame, stuck a finger up at a couple of the children hanging around and returned to his car. Time to go home.
Chapter 16: Meeting the Snake
Saturday Morning
‘What do you think, ma’am?’ Barry asked. They were on their way across Bath to the premises Trent Baker cleaned. Wessex Data Analytics was based in a modern office complex, close to the main Bristol road.
‘Same as you, I expect. Trent Baker could well be flexing his muscles and deliberately creating mischief. But we need to be careful with him. I’ll let the local force know about the threat to Catherine. They can keep an eye on her, but I’m inclined to stay back and watch what he does next. Here we are.’
Sophie looked around her as they approached the reception desk. The building looked secure enough, but she knew it wouldn’t take a determined individual long to identify the weak spots, particularly if they already had official access.
She introduced herself and Barry to the receptionist. ‘It’s a nice, clean building,’ Sophie said. ‘It makes a difference, doesn’t it?’
‘Do all the companies based here use the same cleaners or do they hire their own?’ Barry asked.
‘It’s a central contract,’ she replied. ‘It works out cheaper that way.’
They took the stairs up to the second floor. Always using the stairs was a habit they’d adopted several years earlier to offset the hours they were forced to spend sitting in front of computer screens or behind the wheel of a car.
The stairway opened onto a carpeted foyer. Sophie did a slight double-take. The young man behind the reception desk bore an uncanny resemblance to Clark Kent.
‘I love that we’re in the era of male receptionists,’ Sophie said quietly. ‘They sometimes wear such amazing shirts and ties. Look at that one, in gold and red. I pick up ideas for Martin’s birthday presents from them.’
Barry fingered his own rather drab tie absentmindedly.
‘We’re here to see Gloria Brookman,’ Sophie said as they approached the desk. ‘We’re from Dorset police. I’m Sophie Allen and this is Barry Marsh.’
The young man’s smile was guarded. ‘She’s waiting for you. Her office is the first one along that corridor.’ A middle-aged woman in black trousers and a loose top appeared and waved at them.
‘I’m not entirely clear why you’re here,’ she said as they sat down in her office. ‘It’s fortunate that I happened to drop in this morning. I’m not usually here on a Saturday.’
Sophie smiled. ‘We’re grateful for the opportunity to meet you. And to be honest, we’re not entirely sure why we’re here either. I have some general questions to ask of you about one of your staff members, but he’s not suspected of involvement in any crime. He may have been a victim without realising it, but I don’t want him to know about it. Russell Poulter?’
Gloria Brookman looked surprised. ‘It would astonish me if Russell had been up to no good. He’s a lovely guy, and so reliable. He’s one of our best team leaders.’
Barry said, ‘You’re a contract company, aren’t you? Producing bespoke software to order?’ Gloria nodded rather cautiously. ‘What’s Russell Poulter working on at the moment?’
‘I can’t give you the full details because of client confidentiality, but it isn’t anything that would generate any security concerns. He’s working for an agricultural agency on monitoring the salinity levels in estuary water.’
‘So
it’s not contentious in any way?’ he asked. ‘No one’s got hot under the collar about it?’
Gloria shook her head. ‘Not at all.’
‘Has he reported any worries or issues during the past week? Any security concerns of his own?’
‘I’ll check.’ Gloria swung her chair round to her computer. Her long nails tapped at the keys. She shook her head. ‘No. Nothing on the system.’
‘Who’s his line manager?’ Sophie asked.
‘My colleague, Frank Scalton, director of software development. Do you want me to phone him?’
‘Please.’
The two detectives waited while Gloria made the call. She replaced her mobile in her bag with a puzzled expression.
‘Apparently Russell told Frank that his mobile phone went walkabout for several hours a few days ago but it turned up again. He wondered if he’d left it in the loo. That sounds very unlike Russell, I must say.’
‘When was this?’ Barry asked.
‘Frank thinks it was Tuesday. And he said Russell was very edgy on Wednesday, which is also unlike him.’
‘Who has access to these offices, apart from your own employees?’ Barry asked.
‘Well, visitors like yourselves, of course. But they’re always signed in at the desk and accompanied. Clients. Maintenance people. Delivery. Cleaners. We’ve had some decorators in, but that was last week. We sometimes see staff’s family members, although not in Russell’s case. He’s single — a very eligible bachelor, in fact.’ She looked more human when she smiled.
‘Would regular visitors, like decorators and cleaners, know the entry codes to get in?’ Sophie asked. ‘After all, they may need access outside your normal office hours.’
Gloria frowned. ‘Yes, they do. Why? Do I need to be concerned?’
‘I don’t think so,’ Sophie said. ‘Your procedures seem pretty sound to me. We had to go through two identity checks and sign in twice. That’s a lot better than many organisations.’
Gloria’s puzzled look deepened. ‘So, what’s the problem?’
‘There may not be one,’ Sophie said. ‘I know it all sounds a bit enigmatic, but I can’t tell you any more at the moment. Russell may have been the victim of a bit of personal manipulation — nothing to do with his work. But he doesn’t know it, and I don’t want you to mention it to him. We’ll try to see him later this week.’
‘This is all very curious, I must say.’
‘Well, that’s the nature of the work we do. It can throw up all kinds of odd situations. Most don’t go anywhere or mean anything. Coincidences and dead ends.’ Sophie sat back.
‘What’s your role in the police?’ Gloria asked suddenly. ‘You didn’t say.’
‘I head up the violent crime unit. Keep that to yourself for the time being, if you could. I don’t want Russell unduly worried. And, please, don’t change any security procedures yet. I promise I’ll provide a fuller explanation once I’ve gotten to the bottom of it and will give you some advice then.’ Sophie and Barry stood up to leave.
*
Back in Bristol, Sophie and Barry stood at the door to a small flat and looked down at the man who had answered their knock. Sophie recalled some of the words people had used to describe him. Twisted viper. Evil bastard. Snake. Nasty piece of shit. The terms were hard to square with the blue-eyed, soft-featured, smiling face turned up at them. He even had dimples, for goodness’ sake! Despite the fact that he couldn’t be any taller than five four, with looks like that he probably found it easy to worm his way into the lives — and beds — of plenty of soft-hearted women. As arranged, she let Barry make the introductions and followed the two men into a small sitting room. She wanted to listen and observe for a while, get a feel for this man and see if she could spot what made him tick. His criminal history suggested that a violent and manipulative monster lurked below the surface of the angel-faced charmer.
‘Dorset, eh? What brings you to my door?’ The little man was twinkling with bonhomie.
‘We’re investigating a suspicious death and a possible link to a commune near the Quantock Hills a decade or more ago,’ Barry said.
‘Aren’t they in Somerset?’ Baker replied. ‘I thought you said you were from Dorset.’
‘The death occurred in Dorset, about two weeks ago. I understand you lived at the commune for a spell. Is that right?’ Barry asked.
‘Um, yes. For a short while. I wanted to try life in a commune, but it didn’t really work out for me. And the place was starting to fall apart.’
He sounds relieved, Sophie thought. What did he think we were here for?
‘What do you mean, it was falling apart?’ Barry asked. This was something they’d discussed on the way here: query everything Baker said. Force him to do some explaining and see if he might trip himself up.
‘Too many chiefs and not enough Indians,’ Baker said. ‘Discussion groups for everything. Too many middle-class softies who didn’t want to get their hands dirty. All they wanted to do was the arty-crafty stuff, and that didn’t get people fed. They should’ve been out in the fields.’
‘Who was the leader?’ Barry asked.
‘Some guy who thought he was spreading God’s word. He was into eastern religions and all that stuff. So were some of the others. Hippy gypsies, living off the land. Earth mothers, trying to be at one with the universe or so they claimed.’ He was openly sneering now. How quickly that angelic face twisted into a contemptuous smirk!
‘Why did you join them if you didn’t agree with what they stood for?’ Barry asked.
Sophie could see that Baker was momentarily at a loss for a reply. As with many loudmouths, his words had gone further than his thoughts.
Baker finally shrugged. ‘I didn’t find out till I got there. Then I thought I’d give it a go even though it wasn’t my thing.’
‘What was the leader’s name?’ Barry asked.
‘Tim something or other.’ Baker looked down at the floor.
‘Do you remember any other names?’
He shook his head. Sophie guessed he was thinking hard, wondering what line to take.
‘Katie Templar? Blonde and slightly built? Do you remember her?’ Barry began to pick up the pace.
‘Vaguely. It was a long time ago. There were a lot of people there.’
‘Paul Prentice?’
‘Sort of rings a bell. I can’t picture any of them though.’
‘Catherine Templeton?’
The whole room seemed to freeze. Baker shrugged. ‘Yeah. Her.’
Sophie broke in at this point. ‘We know about Catherine, Mr Baker. We know you attacked her with a knife and nearly killed her. We know you’re only recently out of prison. On early release and on parole.’
Baker said nothing. He looked like a child with the sulks.
‘Have you broken the terms of your parole, Mr Baker? Have you been watching her? Have you been trying to meddle in her life?’ Sophie said.
‘No,’ Baker protested. ‘Do you think I’m mad? Do you think I want to go back into that hellhole?’
‘So why did you specifically request the cleaning job at Wessex Data?’
‘What do you mean?’ He looked confused.
‘It’s in Bath, only a few minutes’ drive from where she lives. All your other jobs are on the south side of Bristol, around here. Why ask for that one if it wasn’t to keep an eye on Catherine?’ Sophie stared hard at him.
‘I didn’t know she lived there. It just looked a good place to clean and I remembered the area from when I was a kid. One of my aunties used to live in a street close by. It only takes me half an hour to get there. It’s always the last job I do.’
‘Let me tell you what I want you to do, Mr Baker. Phone your boss, Caitlin Beckett, at CleanStyle. Tell her you wish to be taken off that particular job as of now and ask her to allocate you somewhere closer to home.’
He continued looking at the floor, sullen. ‘Okay. I will.’
‘I don’t think you understand, Mr Baker. I mean
right now, while I can hear you. Here, I’ll get her number for you on my phone.’
She waited for Caitlin to answer and handed the phone to Baker.
‘Well, I’m happier now,’ Sophie said once the call was over. ‘Where were you at the weekend two weeks ago?’
‘Here. I don’t go out much, apart from work.’
‘So you weren’t in Dorset that weekend or at any other time recently?’ she said.
‘No. Why would I be?’ Baker said. ‘It’s a bit of a trek, isn’t it? And I don’t know anyone there.’
‘You own a car, Mr Baker. What model and colour?’ Sophie said.
‘It’s a blue Ford Focus. Why?’
‘Just so we know. By the way, did I say who I was?’
He shook his head sullenly.
‘I’m Detective Superintendent Sophie Allen. I head Dorset’s Violent Crime Unit. I may need to speak to you again. Better bear that in mind, just in case you’re thinking of doing anything stupid.’
Chapter 17: The Body Under the Beech Trees
Saturday Afternoon
Sophie and Barry arrived at the farm soon after lunch and were greeted by Polly Nelson, Sophie’s opposite number in the Avon and Somerset force. Rae was already there, wearing jeans and walking boots, and talking to a group of local Somerset officers kitted out in search gear. The weather was still fine, thankfully. Wind and rain could make a search in countryside like this a nightmare. A van drew up behind their own vehicle, and they watched the dog handler climb out and make his way to the rear doors. Sophie and Barry went across.
‘Great to see you again, Gerry, and Floyd of course. His reputation still goes before him.’
‘Thanks, ma’am. It’s a great area for dogs, the Quantocks. Once we’re finished here, I’ll take him up to the high ground and give him a run-around for a while so he can relax.’
‘You don’t think he’ll need the whole afternoon, then?’
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