Copycat

by C. S. Barnes

  TheRealMichaelRichards:

  What do you mean?

  JenniGRR:

  I mean what I say

  You’ve set up a new account just for this?

  TheRealMichaelRichards:

  I want it to be authentic

  Just in case

  Melanie sank down into her chair. ‘She was on good terms with whoever is behind this screen name, that’s what we’re getting from this?’ Lucy nodded by way of a response. ‘I don’t know what we’re meant to do with that,’ Melanie announced to the room, her head balanced on her balled-up fist. ‘We’re going to have to take this to her parents, see how much they knew about her online habits, who she was likely to have been talking to on any given evening. Burton, you’re with me.’ Melanie paused to check her watch. ‘It’s a sociable enough hour to pay them a visit. Meanwhile, Carter, can you get over to the forensics lab and push them for DNA answers. They respond better face to face.’ Edd rolled his eyes and Melanie stopped at the gesture. ‘Oh, I’m sorry, do you have somewhere else to be?’ Her tone was cutting and Edd looked visibly startled by it.

  ‘No,’ he replied. ‘No, this is no problem at all.’

  Melanie eyed Lucy Morris. ‘How long will it take for tech to pull Knight’s computer records, past conversations and all that?’

  Lucy shrugged. ‘He handed over his passwords, so the surface look-through shouldn’t take too long. They’ll dig deeper, of course, to see if they can find any of this stuff buried.’ She gestured with the conversation scripts as she spoke. ‘Jenni’s conversations were well hidden on her laptop, but it was the person on the other side of the screen who talked her through it, so they’ll dredge through everything Knight has got to find something that matches this.’

  ‘Can you be helping them?’ Melanie asked.

  Another shrug. ‘Probably?’

  ‘You’re excused from the office for the day. Get over there, see what you can push them for. Knight isn’t looking good for this, I know, but we’ve got another fourteen hours with him and I’m sure as shit not letting him leave this station until we can give the Granthams a definite answer on what he did and didn’t do to their daughter.’

  Carter and Morris excused themselves, leaving Burton behind.

  ‘Are you good for this?’ Melanie asked, tugging on her jacket.

  ‘Why wouldn’t I be?’ Chris flashed a smile. Melanie could always tell when her colleague was struggling with a case and this time was no exception. Of course it bothered Chris that their victim was a young woman – a child, really – but Melanie knew she couldn’t let that side of her feelings show if she stood a chance of being taken more seriously. Chris sighed when Melanie smiled in return, grabbed her thinned out copy of the conversation transcripts and headed for the open door of her office, with her junior trailing not too far behind.

  By the time Edd pulled up outside of the forensics offices – a gold mine of scientific knowledge that had been tacked onto the local university some three years back – the place was already aflutter with life. There were white coats and students galore around the space, and Edd felt grateful that he knew exactly which office he was making a beeline for. He skimmed through titles as he walked along each corridor, checking the names pinned to the doors as he went along, until he finally ended up outside of the broadly titled “Lab1” where he knocked lightly, and waited to be called in.

  ‘Come on!’ came a voice from inside.

  When Edd stepped over the threshold he was greeted by the sight of a man, facing away from him, his back arched over as he looked into a small pool of something that was positioned underneath an expensive-looking piece of equipment. Edd felt nervous to take a deep-out breath in case he expanded enough to knock something pricey out of place. He remained fixed to the spot until the man eventually came up for air and turned to face him. To Edd’s annoyance, it looked as though he was dealing with a twelve-year-old – a feeling that he experienced more and more frequently these days…

  ‘DC Chris Burton?’ the man asked, extending a hand.

  Edd reciprocated the gesture. ‘Afraid not, DS Edd Carter.’

  ‘We’re moving higher up the food chain,’ the man replied with a half-laugh. ‘ID?’

  Edd pulled his badge from his inside pocket and flashed it to his questioner, quietly delighted that the young man had thought to take such a precaution.

  ‘I assume you’re after these,’ the technician continued their conversation, reaching for a sealed envelope that sat atop a pile of cardboard folders. ‘Results from the sample your colleague dropped off, sealed and secured as requested. Do you think you’ll be sending any more emergencies our way?’ he asked jovially, but Edd detected a hint of sincerity too.

  ‘I hope not, mate,’ the officer replied. He took the envelope and began to lift the sealed lip before halting; should this be the DI’s job? Unsure, he opted for a different tactic. ‘Any chance you know what’s in these?’

  The technician narrowed his eyes and sucked in his bottom lip, as though debating whether he was at liberty to say. He took a quick look around himself, to ensure that the surrounding lab space was still empty, before giving Edd a shrug.

  ‘What the hell. He’s not your man.’

  Edd felt the air rush out of him. ‘There’s no match?’

  ‘Not to the full sample or the partial. Nothing that we pulled from the girl can be physically traced back to your blokey.’ The technician gave Edd a half-smile, his mouth pulled down in a despondent expression. ‘Better luck next time?’ he said, before turning back to his workstation.

  25

  Melanie and Chris were nearly outside the Granthams’ house when Carter called the DI’s work phone. It wasn’t connected to the car’s Bluetooth system so Chris answered on her boss’s behalf, a curt, ‘Hang on’ while she struggled to find the right onscreen logo to activate the speakerphone. Once Edd’s breathing was magnified in greater detail, she instructed her colleague to continue.

  ‘It’s not a match, boss,’ he announced.

  ‘Not to either?’

  ‘Nope, they tested him against the partial and against the complete sample. There’s no trace of Knight anywhere on Jenni according to the forensics that are available.’

  ‘Bollocks,’ Melanie snapped as the car came to halt at their destination. ‘Chase up Morris, would you, Edd? See if she’s getting anywhere with the tech team. We’ll be letting Knight go before the day is out otherwise.’

  Chris extinguished the phone call and, following her boss’s lead, stepped out of the car in silence. Melanie was disgruntled by this latest news; another blow to the case that the DI and her team could have done without.

  ‘Are you showing them the transcripts?’ Chris asked, breaking the silence as both officers stood outside the front door waiting for admittance.

  Melanie sighed. ‘I haven’t decided yet.’

  DC Ian Dixon opened the door and quietly welcomed both officers into the hallway. There was a solemn tone in the house and despite the grief that filled the space, Melanie couldn’t help but feel there was something else afoot here. She waited for Dixon to shut the door and pull the lock across before she questioned her young colleague.

  ‘Has something gone on?’

  Dixon rubbed at the back of his neck, avoiding eye contact with his superior. ‘Bloody press got hold of their temporary phone number, didn’t they? Probably some scum or another selling numbers to the highest bidder.’ He was obviously annoyed, an angry redness lingered at the edges of his cheeks. ‘It’s shaken them both up a little, the questions they were asking about Jenni, the allegations.’ Dixon shook his head, signalling the end of the conversation before gesturing down the hallway, allowing Melanie to take the lead. The living room door was pulled firmly closed so she pressed forward to the kitchen. Inside that room, she found both Robert and Evie Grantham sitting opposite each other, cradling their respective cups of tea with what seemed like little interest in actually drinking the beverages. Melanie won
dered how many cups of tea Dixon must have made in the ten days.

  ‘Mr and Mrs Grantham, I hope you don’t mind us dropping in like this,’ Melanie said. Without a word, Robert stood from his chair and gestured for Melanie to take the seat; he shuffled across, taking the chair next to his wife, leaving another seat in the middle free for Chris.

  With all four individuals settled around the table – Dixon hovering in the doorway like an angelic figure – Melanie continued. ‘I’ve brought my colleague DC Burton with me today, as she’s also working closely with me on Jenni’s case, and we were wondering whether we might be able to discuss one or two new developments with you.’

  ‘Please,’ Evie said, her voice a faded version of the one Melanie remembered.

  ‘We’ve been looking through Jenni’s computer records, as you know, and I was wondering whether you might know who she was talking to on the Internet, or friends she often mentioned talking to perhaps? There are a couple of conversations under screen names and we’re having a hard time pinning down who’s who,’ Melanie said, trying to sound less eager than she felt for their answers.

  Robert flashed down-turned lips and looked to his wife.

  ‘There were so many,’ she said, dropping her head into her hands. For the seconds that followed, the woman remained quiet until, with a sudden burst of energy, her head snapped up. ‘Have you spoken to her friends about this; Eleanor, and that Patrick boy? The three of them always seemed to be chatting in one place or another.’

  ‘Did they talk online, do you know?’ Chris pushed, her notebook in hand to write down anything of interest or use.

  ‘I imagine so, like I said, they seemed to be talking everywhere, all the bloody time.’

  Melanie could sense the shift in Evie’s grief; shock turning to anger at what had happened to her child, at what was continuing to happen to her. Melanie felt a strong sympathy for the grieved mother – but they still needed their answers.

  ‘So, it was only people that you’re familiar with, people she mentioned in real life? There weren’t any new names, or names that she only mentioned in relation to talking to online, nothing like that that you can recall?’ Melanie asked, her tone firm. She felt like she was reframing the same question in different ways, but they had to be sure that they weren’t missing something – something that could unlock the case entirely.

  ‘Like chat rooms, is that what you’re asking?’ Robert asked.

  Chris made a quick note – chat rooms? – on her pad. It was something that they hadn’t talked about in any serious detail, but it was certainly worth considering – especially if the parents weren’t able to shed any light on who their daughter was talking to.

  ‘Not necessarily. We’re just wondering whether Jenni had any friends that she exclusively knew and spoke to via the Internet, rather than having any face-to-face interaction with them.’ Melanie’s patience was beginning to fray, but she had to remind herself why they were here, what they were doing – what their interviewees had recently been through. Melanie sighed lightly. ‘Did she use chat rooms, do you know?’ The tech team hadn’t found evidence for this, but it was still worth asking, if only to keep the Granthams in the right frame of mind for questions.

  ‘When she was younger,’ Evie admitted. ‘I think she found them by accident, to be honest, and we stopped her as soon as we found out what she was doing, gave her the lecture about online dangers and that sort of thing. But she was a young woman, her phone attached to her hand, you know how it is.’

  ‘Truthfully, detectives, we didn’t monitor our daughter’s online behaviour,’ Robert said, cutting across his own speech with a bitter laugh. ‘Although it seems that perhaps it would have been a good idea to.’ The couple shared a look before Robert reached over to wrap an arm around his wife’s shoulders. They were closer than they had been on previous visits, Melanie noted, and something about the observation pleased her.

  ‘I appreciate this is a difficult time for you,’ Melanie said. ‘But if you do think of anything, anyone Jenni might have mentioned, even if it was just in passing, it would be a great help to us.’ The Granthams just about held eye contact with the officer but neither of them could bring themselves to say anything. Melanie gave a sad smile before pushing her chair back from the table. ‘Thank you both for your time again today. I hope we’ll have something a little more concrete for you soon.’

  Dixon moved to one side to allow his colleagues to step through the doorway, but Evie Grantham called them back into the room. ‘The man, the one you’ve got in custody.’ The two officers turned back into the kitchen to face the woman. Melanie appeared impassive, neutral, but there was an anxious twist in her lower stomach. ‘He isn’t the one who did it, is he?’ Despite the cracks around the edges of her voice, Evie Grantham sounded strong, determined, and neither officers could bring themselves to skirt around the truth.

  ‘It doesn’t look like it, no,’ Melanie admitted. Robert dropped his head toward the table, but Evie held eye contact with the DI. ‘I’m sorry, we are–’

  ‘We know,’ Evie cut across her. ‘We know you’re trying.’

  Dixon saw both officers to the front door then, allowing the Granthams a moment to themselves. The three said their goodbyes and Melanie and Chris quietly paced back to their car, parked at the end of the driveway. Neither moved for a moment, wrapped up in their respective thoughts about the couple, the case, the young woman at the centre of it all.

  ‘We need those kids back in,’ Melanie announced.

  ‘Eleanor Gregory?’

  ‘And Patrick Nelson. I don’t care which end things are coming out of, he’s coming in,’ Melanie said, her tone curt, defiant as she inserted the key fob into the car and fired up the engine. She checked the time on the dashboard clock before she pulled away from the curb. ‘Call Fairer, tell him to get over to the Nelsons’ house and pull Patrick in. I don’t want any excuses this time. You can give Carter a call too, and he can grab Eleanor and a parent as college wraps up. I want them both questioned as soon as possible.’ Melanie pressed down hard on the accelerator, speeding toward the junction at the end of the road where she braked hard enough to lift Chris forward in her seat. Melanie looked left, right, left again before pulling out of the road, talking as the car turned. ‘Someone must know something about Jenni sodding Grantham.’

  26

  DS Edd Carter had been parked outside of Eleanor Gregory’s house for nearly thirty minutes. He’d seen her mother appear in front of one window or another a handful of times while he’d been waiting, but he didn’t want to strike until he knew both individuals were home. He checked his watch again; Eleanor finished college forty minutes earlier, and there was still no sign of her. He hoped that she wasn’t the sort of girl to engage in after-school clubs and social circles; although, from the young woman’s initial interview, she seemed more focused on her friendship with Patrick and Jenni than with anyone else.

  Again, Edd let out a hard sigh as Mrs Gregory crossed in front of the living room window, this time with a phone pressed to her ear. She took a pointed look out of the front window but seemed to look right through Edd, and the officer, relieved not to have been spotted, hoped that it was her daughter on the other end of the phone – hoped even more that her mother was ordering her home within the next ten minutes, or else Edd’s working day could turn into a complete washout.

  Edd imagined DC Fairer, somewhere across town, going through the same long-winded waiting game, although at least his pick up should have been at home, given that all reports pointed to Patrick being too ill to leave the house. Edd pulled his mobile phone from his inside pocket and thumbed down to his colleague’s name. If they were both waiting it out, they may as well make the most of this time for a catch up, Edd thought. The dial tone sounded out ring after ring until eventually cutting through to Fairer’s voicemail. Edd decided against leaving a message when he spotted a young woman, sporting what was distinctly a college hoodie – they had studied the design so
many damn times – round the corner into the cul-de-sac. At this distance he couldn’t immediately tell whether it was Eleanor Gregory or not, but he wanted to be ready to approach if it turned out to be her.

  As the young woman lessened the gap between herself and the observing officer, Edd determined that yes, it was Eleanor Gregory, finally heading for home. The teenager appeared to be in her own little world – head down, staring at something on her mobile phone screen – so she passed Edd’s car without so much as an upward glance. Masterfully, she unlocked the front door without looking up from whatever held her attention, and she stepped over the threshold into the family home without even double-checking her footing. Edd shook his head at the observation. When had he got to an age where these things stood out to him? Unwilling to linger on that thought for too long, he replaced his phone in his inside pocket and exited the vehicle, making a quick step in the direction of the Gregorys’ house.

  If Mrs Gregory had spotted Edd – which she must have done, he thought – then she hadn’t given any signs of it during her looks through different windows. However, Edd was a good five paces away from the front door when it swung open, the unimpressed-looking lady of the house standing in the doorway, just waiting for a visitor it seemed. Edd flashed a half-smile, half-laugh as he came to a stop on the doormat.

  ‘You aren’t undercover, are you?’ Mrs Gregory asked, her delivery flat.

  Edd couldn’t help but crack a smile. ‘No, apparently I’m not stealthy enough.’

  ‘You’d better come in.’ Without waiting for a reply, the woman turned away from the open door and backstepped up her hallway. Thrown by the invitation – or was it a demand, really? – Edd stepped into the house, closed the door behind him, and followed the path just trodden by the homeowner. At the end of the corridor and through an open door, Edd found Mrs Gregory leaning against a kitchen work surface with her daughter, Eleanor, sitting at the kitchen table at the centre of the room.