‘Some of it is still ongoing, I think. I can pass those to my mother, as she dealt with the financial side of things for Jennifer.’ Grace opened another manila folder. ‘I think this is the same as those you’ve been through.’ She passed it to Bill and he added it to his pile, before picking up the next one.
Grace then opened a blue folder containing notes Jennifer had made from some of the sessions of treatment she’d had. Grace took time to read through some of them, in case anything enlightening came out. As she read, she ran her fingers over different pages, as if to try and feel Jennifer’s hand while she was writing. She noticed that her handwriting changed from page to page: sometimes very neat, other times sprawled, as if the act of writing itself was too difficult. She turned to Bill. ‘These notes on the treatment sessions are interesting. In the group ones, she talks more about the traumas of the other group members than her own. That was exactly the point the therapist made. Always worrying about someone else. Maybe taking on board other people’s problems was counterproductive for her, and added to the depths of her misery.’ She closed the file. ‘I won’t share that one with Mom. I’ll keep it here for the time being.’ She started a second pile.
‘Mind if I help myself to another coffee?’ Bill asked.
‘Sorry, Bill, I got absorbed. Let me.’ Grace went into the kitchen and got out two fresh cups and poured the drinks.
Bill was studying another folder when she got back to the couch. ‘Look at this, Grace. It looks like your sister was using poetry to express her feelings. Did she have a history of harming herself?’ Bill moved closer to Grace to share the papers.
‘Wow, some of these are really good. I had no idea how she felt about her own self-harming. It was too distressing for Mom to discuss it. I don’t think either of us ever talked to her about it specifically. It sounds from this poem that she felt better when she had harmed herself. I don’t get it, do you?’ For the first time that evening Grace found herself welling up and the tears started to spill down her cheeks.
Bill put his arms around her. ‘Sometimes there is nothing we can do to help people in pain. There’s no blame here, Grace.’
Grace leaned into the hug. It felt good. As she drew away, she said, ‘Bill, I’m really glad you’re here with me.’
He smiled and wiped a tear away with his thumb. ‘Look, why don’t we see how much more there is in the box. We might have to look at it some more another night.’
Grace got down on her knees and took out more folders. Right at the bottom she spotted a very large packing envelope, addressed to her and sealed with tape. She pulled it out and sat down next to Bill again. ‘Look at this. It’s addressed to me.’ Grace unwrapped the envelope, having to tear away the tape. Inside was a heavy cardboard cigar box covered in cloth and decorated with ribbons and pictures cut out from magazines. Grace smiled. ‘This would have been one of Ed’s old cigar boxes. When Jen was little, she liked to glue cloth on to them and make treasure boxes, or packing cases for dolls’ clothes.’ Grace held the box to her face for a moment and breathed in the cigar smell, still there after all these years. She was back to her childhood in seconds. Then she carefully lifted the lid. In it was a sealed envelope with the following inscription,
ONLY TO BE OPENED BY GRACE MARKS WHEN JENNIFER MARKS IS DECEASED.
The handwriting was Jennifer’s.
Chapter 65
Annie woke up without her alarm and for the first time in weeks felt refreshed. Her sleep had been unbroken. She also woke up thinking of Dave, not Charlie. Last night he had made her feel so much better than she had for days. Although the early evening was broken up by the visit to see Frances Amato and Brother Jonathan in hospital, they did manage to come back to his place and have a late pizza. Maybe, she thought, it was time to break her rule of not getting involved with someone from work. She had been tempted by his offer to stay the night, especially as he had offered the spare room. Yet, after the emotional turmoil of the last week or so, Annie needed to be sure that she wanted him for himself, not because of the hurt caused by Charlie. Waking up this morning and smiling at the thought of him was definitely a good start. Time for raisin toast.
Annie decided her colleagues needed a treat, so she popped into Starbucks for coffees on the way in. Bronski and Ellison were at their desks when she opened the door. They both looked up. Bronski spotted the coffees first. ‘I’m putting in a request to extend your exchange with us, Detective,’ he joked as she pulled his latte out of the bag.
‘And I’m taking the request to the captain for approval,’ Ellison chipped in.
‘You two, so easily bought off. So what’s up for today?’
‘I’m expecting Bruce Crawley in half an hour,’ Ellison said. ‘I’ll interview him in room one. He’s supposed to be bringing photographs of all the alarm engineers who cover Westford, as well as their rotas for the day Monica Lansdowne spoke to the man in the brown uniform. When I’m done with him, I’ll call Jordan Prentice to arrange to show his daughter the photos. If you’re not tied up, you could come with me,’ Ellison suggested to Annie.
‘OK, I’m doing some file updates. Even though we’ve spoken to Father Benedict already, I might also ring him again to see if he’s had any concerns. We can’t afford to slip up now, can we?’ Annie commented.
‘No, we can’t,’ Bronski agreed, taking the lid off his latte to let it cool down. ‘I’m meeting the captain shortly in the chief’s office. He wants an up to date briefing so another press release can be issued. He also wants to visit Monica Lansdowne to express his condolences, so we may have to co-ordinate our visit to her. I’ll call you, Ellison, when I know what time he wants to see her.’
Ellison nodded. ‘No sign yet of Linda Nixon, although she may drop the information off downstairs. I’d like to be able to show Monica Lansdowne all the photographs together.’
‘Sounds like a good idea. Her father won’t want her to go through it twice, will he?’ Bronski replied.
Annie took a sip of her coffee and then turned to Ellison. ‘Have you filled Detective Bronski in about our hospital visit last night?’
‘Yeah and I’ve also spoken to Detective Anderson who’s handling the assault cases and he’s going to keep us informed. He’s happy for us to follow up anything relevant with Frances Amato or Brother Jonathan to do with our case. As she was too sedated last night, we’ll need to call on her again. We might get to fit that in later today.’
‘Perhaps, Detective Macpherson, you should take out shares in Westford Hospital, as you can’t seem to keep away from the place,’ Bronski joked.
Annie blushed, remembering the encounter with Charlie.
A minute later, one of the patrol officers knocked on the door. ‘Package for you Detective Ellison. Sergeant Owens asked me to bring it up.’
‘Thanks,’ Ellison replied, opening the envelope. It contained a file with the details of the twelve employees of Freedom Security and a photograph of each attached. Annie and Bronski were getting on with other work so Ellison flicked through it. ‘Holy shit!’ The volume of his voice was enough to make his colleagues stop what they were doing. ‘I don’t believe this. Martin Brantingham is one of their employees.’ The name struck an immediate chord in the room and Ellison had their full attention. He read from the report. ‘The guy’s twenty-eight now and a qualified security systems engineer. He’s married with one dependant – a boy aged three.’
*****
‘We’re making good time, so we should be there fairly soon, so long as we don’t hit any more traffic.’
‘I can’t believe what I read last night in Jen’s letter. If only I had seen it sooner.’
Bill reached his hand across the seat and took Grace’s into his. ‘You might never have found it. You could have stored that box and not looked at it for years. Knowing something after the fact is a very diffe
rent thing. We have to deal with what we know now.’
‘The rational side of me knows you’re right of course, Bill. The emotional side is finding all of this too much. If it’s true, how will I ever tell my mother?’
‘Grace you’re getting ahead of yourself. Tell the detectives what you know. Do you want me to come in with you?’
‘No, Bill, you’ve done the long drive. Find some place to have breakfast and I’ll call you when I’ve finished.’
*****
Ellison had taken Bruce Crawley into the interview room. Bronski was on his way to the chief’s office. Annie knew that her colleagues were still reeling from the mention of Martin Brantingham’s name. Nothing could be done with the information until Monica Lansdowne looked at the photographs. Annie’s logical mind told her it could be a coincidence. She suspected Ellison thought differently. They hadn’t finished discussing it before he got the call to say that Crawley had arrived.
Annie’s desk phone rang. ‘Macpherson.’
‘Morning, Detective. I have a Grace Marks at the desk. She says she has some information about the murders. She’s a lawyer and has driven down from New York this morning to talk to one of the team.’
‘I’m the only one available, Sarge. I’ll be right down to get her. I’ll have to see her in the squad room as the interview room up here is taken.’ Annie mulled over the phone call on her way down the stairs. She regretted that neither of her colleagues was available to see the woman with her. What could a lawyer from New York have to offer? A minute or two later she went up to the desk. Sergeant Owens pointed towards a woman who looked to be in her late thirties, very smartly dressed, with the type of long straight chestnut hair that Annie could only dream about.
‘Miss Marks, I’m Detective Macpherson. I’m sorry there’s no interview room available upstairs. Are you OK talking in the squad room?’
‘Whatever is convenient, Detective,’ Grace Marks replied.
Annie led the way into the squad room and offered Grace Marks a seat by her desk. ‘There’s some fresh coffee, can I pour you one?’
‘Thank you, black, no sugar. It’s been a long trip.’
When Annie returned, the woman had slipped off her suit jacket to reveal a crisp white blouse underneath. Annie set the two drinks down and then took her seat and got out her notebook. ‘You told the sergeant that you have some information about the murders.’
‘I can fill you in with more detail later. Briefly, my sister, well half-sister, Jennifer Marks and I grew up in Westford and my mother still lives here. Jennifer left the University of Westford quite suddenly in her junior year and wouldn’t return. For the past twelve years she had been in and out of psychiatric units, treated for depression, eating disorders and severe self-harm. No one, not her family or hospital staff have ever been able to find out what triggered off this change in her.’
Annie took a drink of her coffee, wondering where the story was leading; yet not wanting to rush the woman. The mention of the University of Westford had made her prick up her ears. It could simply be a coincidence. What had Ellison said about there being a thousand students in each year?
‘A couple of months ago, Jennifer committed suicide.’ Grace Marks’ voice broke for the first time.
‘Take your time,’ Annie said, encouragingly.
Grace Marks took a mouthful of coffee. ‘I was working in Dubai when it happened and I came home for the funeral and then went back. Recently, I managed to get a transfer to our New York office for six months. Sorry, I am trying to make this coherent.’ Once again, Annie reassured the woman. Grace Marks continued. ‘An ex- boyfriend, Barry Ainscough turned up at her funeral and has since been back in touch with my mother and me. That didn’t make a lot of sense to me because, as far as we knew, she hadn’t seen him since she left college. He had written to her, only she never answered his letters. Last weekend I picked up a box of her things from the psychiatric unit. I only opened the box last night.’
Annie seemed distracted for a moment. ‘Can I interrupt you, Miss Marks, to show you something?’ Annie opened one of the files on her desk and retrieved the photograph of the two young people, which was found under Father Bannister’s pillow. It was still in the evidence bag. Annie placed it on the desk in front of Grace Marks.
The woman’s reaction was immediate. ‘My God, that’s Jennifer when she was at Westford and I think that’s Barry, although he looks very different now. I think it’s him, I can’t be certain. That’s definitely Jennifer. Where did you get this?’ Her tone was incredulous.
‘From Father Brian Bannister’s room at the seminary. He was the first victim. We’ve not been able to identify who they were or why he had their photos under his pillow.’
‘Guilt,’ Grace replied, trying to keep her composure. ‘He must have felt the guilt all these years.’
‘Miss Marks, you’d better finish your story,’ Annie coaxed.
‘Yes. Last night, a colleague was helping me go through the stuff from the psychiatric unit. Amongst the files I found an old box of Jennifer’s that I recognised from childhood. Inside it was a letter from Jennifer, which was addressed strictly to me. It said only to open it in the event of her death.’ Grace Marks reached into her handbag and took out the folded pages. ‘I think you’ll have the explanation for all three murders in there.’
Annie unfolded the sheets of paper and began reading.
*****
The two men stood up. ‘Thanks for your help, Mr Crawley. We’ll get these files back to you as soon as possible.’ Ellison opened the door of the interview room for the CEO of BCConn Alarms. ‘I’ll take you downstairs.’
The two men walked down the corridor past the squad room. Bruce Crawley glanced in as they went past. As the two men got to the first floor, Crawley shook Ellison’s hand again. ‘If you don’t mind, Detective, I’d like to use the rest room before I leave. I have some other visits to make.’
‘Sure, you can find your way out. Thanks again.’
Sergeant Owens looked up at Ellison as he passed the front desk. ‘I’m going to pick up some coffees Sarge, be back in five minutes. Mr Crawley is using the rest room and then he’ll let himself out.’
*****
Annie left Grace Marks in the squad room while she went to make them both another coffee. Annie certainly needed one after reading Jennifer Marks’ letter. Grace Marks had agreed to wait for Ellison to return to go through the story again and make a formal statement. Annie also wanted a moment to compose a text message to Ellison and Bronski. Have vital information. Motive for 3 murders. Need to discuss.
As Annie poured the drinks and started stirring them, Grace Marks ran into the kitchen, wide eyed and gasping for breath. Annie dropped the spoon. ‘Miss Marks, what is it?’
The woman was shaking, her face pale and breathing laboured.
Annie took the woman’s arm and led her back into the squad room to the chair by the desk. ‘Please sit down, you look like you’re going to faint. What is the matter?’
Grace Marks could barely get her words out. ‘Barry Ainscough just walked past this room with another tall, dark haired man in a suit.’
‘Walked past here?’ Annie looked towards the closed door. ‘What do you mean? Walked past from where?’
‘From that end of the corridor.’ Grace pointed in the direction of the interview room. She was still shaking and very pale. ‘I saw him and he saw me.’ The trembling increased. ‘He’ll realise I know something.’
‘Please, Miss Marks, I need you to calm down. My colleague, Detective Ellison was in the interview room at that end of the corridor, interviewing Bruce Crawley from BCConn Alarms.’
Grace Marks grabbed Annie’s arm. ‘I am telling you Detective, that one of the men who walked past here was Barry Ainscough and he saw me.’
Annie r
eached for the desk phone, but before she could place a call, the door of the squad room opened. ‘Hang up, Detective,’ the man holding the gun instructed.
Chapter 66
Bronski was ill at ease sitting in the outer office with the captain waiting to see the chief. He knew the chief would be impatient for the cases to be solved, especially with the political connection. For three murders, they had so little to show in identifying the person or persons responsible. Still, there were forensics reports outstanding. There was the possible university link between the three men. The theory about child abuse was on the back burner until the mayor’s computer was examined. Parker was promising a report later that day, as well as one on Mearns’ computers. There was lots of evidence that still needed to be brought together and fitted into the jigsaw. The three detectives were convinced that the underlying motive must be due to some kind of sexual abuse. There was no logical reason for the mutilations otherwise. Now there was the information about the man in the brown uniform and a name from the past, Martin Brantingham. He was one of the children whose name Detective Baxter mentioned. Now he was a man with a motive.
He flicked open his cell. ‘I’m going to see if Ellison has anything to report from the BCConn guy,’ he said to the captain. The phone was answered on the third ring. ‘Ellison, how’d you get on with Crawley?’
‘Just finished. I’m across the road getting another couple of coffees. I got all the photos from him and Linda Nixon. If you give me a time, Macpherson and I will take them over to Monica Lansdowne.’
Det Annie Macpherson 02 - Programmed To Kill Page 29