by Joy Ellis
Marie looked at him. ‘If you spoke for ages, maybe something came up in the latter part of the conversation that spooked him?’
Guy looked at her thoughtfully. ‘I really don’t think so, but . . .’ He shrugged. ‘If there was a trigger, then I don’t know what it was. He had me completely fooled.’ Guy rubbed at the muscles at the back of his neck. ‘How could I have been so trusting? No — worse than that — how could I have been so smug, so blindly assured of my own capabilities?’
‘Don’t beat yourself up, Guy,’ said Jackman. ‘Even if he is screwed up, Daniel’s still an intelligent and likeable young man and none of us know whether we’re Arthur or Martha when we talk to him. One minute, I’m convinced he’s a sad kid with an unhealthy obsession with his mystery parentage and the next, I’m certain he’s our killer.’
‘Fine, but I’m the bloody psychologist,’ muttered Guy. ‘And if I can’t understand Daniel’s thought processes, then I’m not doing my job very well, am I?’
Thankfully Marie’s mobile rang before Jackman had to find something else to say.
‘Skye? What’s the matter?’ Marie listened, then said, ‘Don’t worry. I’ll get one of our officers to pick you up. We’ll see you shortly.’
Jackman gave her an enquiring look.
‘Her car’s got a flat tyre, and she’s desperate to see Ruby on the link-up.’ She looked at him evenly, ‘And if Daniel’s on the loose and has some plan in his twisted little head, I think she’ll be safer here with us, don’t you?’
‘Absolutely. Organise a car right away.’ As Marie left, Jackman looked at Guy Preston. ‘And I’ll get Max to run you home so that you can get cleaned up. By the way, you said that Daniel had on some of your clothes?’
‘His own were covered in blood. He’s now wearing a pair of designer jeans, a pale blue Ralph Lauren polo shirt and a light grey bomber jacket.’
‘He was covered in blood?’
‘From the wound in his arm.’
‘Are his old clothes still at your place?’
‘In my bath. I was going to dispose of them when I got back.’
‘Then Max must bag them up and bring them straight back here. There’s a chance there’s more than just his blood on them. We need them for forensic services.’
Guy nodded. ‘Ah, I see. I didn’t think of that. Yes, I’ll show Max where they are. Luckily only Daniel handled them, so they won’t be contaminated.’
‘Did you want to be here for the video link? Only it’s getting a bit tight for time.’
Guy Preston shook his head. ‘I’ve had enough excitement for one day. You can tell me all tomorrow, DI Jackman. I think a long hot shower is on the cards when I get home.’
‘We’ll let you know the moment your car turns up, and if it doesn’t, I’ll pick you up myself in the morning on my way in.’
‘Much appreciated.’ Guy brushed ineffectually at his dirty jacket. ‘Once again, I’m sorry about what happened. It’s entirely my fault that Daniel’s not downstairs in an interview room. I should have listened to Marie.’
‘Forget it.’ Jackman forced a smile, though he privately agreed with Preston. ‘Marie is always right. Sickening, isn’t it?’
Guy Preston was looking anxious. ‘DI Jackman? I have to say that I’m really not sure about Daniel Kinder anymore. That gash on his arm for a start. Was it an accident? Did someone do it to him in self-defence? Or was it self-inflicted? The main thing is the way he drew me in. If he could deceive me so skilfully, Inspector, he could deceive anyone.’
As Guy Preston walked away, Jackman stared after him and thought about Marie and her odd connection to the psychologist.
Even though she had told him what had happened during the Terence Marcus Austin case, Jackman still felt vaguely uncomfortable about them working together. It was hard to believe that the little secretive glances the doctor kept giving her didn’t reveal his hopes for a relationship. Marie had said that that wasn’t the case, but he wondered if she was right, though she seemed to be handling it well. She was friendly, but treated him like just another colleague. She was managing to keep Preston and their past history at arms’ length, but she did it kindly, and that couldn’t be easy.
His lips pursed in concentration. Why was he thinking about this for goodness sake? He was in the middle of a triple murder enquiry, and he was a detective inspector, not Marie Evans’ nanny! So what if Preston did have the hots for her? It was none of his business. Marie was a very attractive woman and Preston could hardly be blamed for fancying her. With a grunt, Jackman picked up the forensic reports that lay in front of him and forced himself to concentrate on his work. As he began to read, he was transported into a kind of dream.
He was seated on Glory and riding at a gallop across the damp sand at his old home. And beside him, on her gleaming black and green Kawasaki, was Marie. Her chestnut hair, whipped by the wind, was as soft and shiny as Glory’s flowing mane.
Suddenly Jackman understood something that had never occurred to him before. They came from totally different backgrounds and had followed very different paths to get to where they were now, but they were so alike that it took his breath away. Marie had once described to him the pure exhilaration of riding her bike at breakneck speed on an empty road. And he knew precisely what she was talking about. He too had experienced every racing heartbeat and every tremor of that exhilarating pleasure when riding Glory along the beach. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply. Come on, Jackman! Anyone would think he was jealous of Guy Preston. No, he was simply dog-tired and his concentration had gone up the pole. He shook himself. The pressure of this terrible case was getting to him. He didn’t indulge in fantastic thoughts mid-investigation. In fact, he didn’t indulge in them at all.
He took up the toxicology report and began to read it out loud in an effort to bring his errant mind back into focus. After a time, it began to work.
* * *
Ruby Kinder’s face was narrow, weathered and full of concern. Marie looked at the slightly fuzzy video picture and decided that if Ruby had been searching for a cure for her grief, she hadn’t found it.
The video connection was a little jerky and didn’t quite sync with the sound, but as long as they gave each other time to speak, it was manageable.
As tactfully as he could, Jackman had explained the situation regarding her son. Ruby had expressed total disbelief.
‘But he’s never shown the slightest interest in his biological parents!’ she burst out.
‘Because he didn’t want to hurt her, or his father,’ whispered Skye from behind Jackman’s shoulder. ‘He loves them and felt that to keep on to them about his real mother was a betrayal of everything the Kinders had done for him.’
Jackman relayed what Skye had said.
‘Oh, Daniel, if only you’d talked to me! I could have saved you all this . . . I know everything about his early years, DI Jackman.’ She paused and cleared her throat. ‘They would never have let Sam and I adopt him if we hadn’t been made fully aware of his traumatic history.’
Jackman leaned forward. ‘Traumatic?’
Ruby sighed. ‘We were advised by the psychologists never to talk to him about his past, as it could cause massive problems in later life. He was monitored carefully for many, many years.’
Marie sensed Jackman’s tension as he fought the urge to hurry the woman.
‘Daniel’s mother was a drug addict, DI Jackman. Somehow, despite social services’ constant intervention, she managed to hold on to her three children.’
‘He has siblings?’ Marie asked.
There was a long silence, then Ruby said, ‘Had siblings. No one realised how close to breaking point Daniel’s mother was, then one night she drove her three boys into a nearby wood, attached a hose to the exhaust pipe and sealed the four of them inside the car.’
Marie gasped. She immediately recalled the smell of exhaust fumes inside Bruce Fleet’s locked garage.
‘It happened in Derbyshire. You probably heard
about the case. Her name was Lucy Carrick. She killed herself and Daniel’s two brothers. Dan was the only survivor. A man searching for a lost dog smashed a window and dragged him out.’
‘Oh my God!’ Skye was unsuccessfully fighting back her tears. ‘My poor Daniel!’
Ruby kept on talking. Perhaps she felt that if she stopped, she might never find the strength to start again. ‘Apparently he was desperately ill for some time afterwards. They suspected both cardiac and brain damage, as the carbon monoxide had caused blood damage, and the lack of oxygen could have allowed his main organs to fail. But he pulled through, although we were told that the effects of prolonged inhalation of carbon monoxide could lead to severe memory loss. They said he could also suffer with depression, visual disturbances, lack of concentration, confusion and a multitude of other things.’
‘But even so, Daniel made it into a career that requires intelligence, concentration, a good memory and the ability to understand others. And he succeeded,’ Jackman stated.
Ruby Kinder rubbed her eyes wearily. ‘Yes, he did, thank the Lord. But his early years with us were fraught with anxiety, and the doctors were absolutely right about some of his problems.’
‘His memory loss?’
‘He has no recall whatsoever of his first five years, but we considered that a blessing. It was the small, almost inconsequential blanks that were the most disturbing.’
‘Why?’ asked Marie.
‘Because things happened during those missing moments, and Daniel didn’t remember a thing about them.’
‘What kind of things?’ asked Jackman, sending a worried glance in Marie’s direction.
‘Temper tantrums, lashing out, angry outbursts, and sometimes just wandering off with no recollection of how he got to where he ended up.’
Marie whispered, ‘Guy Preston should be here. He needs to hear this.’
‘Don’t worry, it’s being taped. We’ll go over it with him.’ Jackman turned back to Ruby Kinder. ‘Did you know that these incidences of memory loss were still happening?’
‘No, Inspector Jackman, I didn’t. And I cannot imagine why he has a fixation on that terrible woman, Françoise Thayer. I’ve never once heard him mention her.’
‘And you don’t make a habit of visiting the attic room in your house?’
Ruby Kinder looked completely baffled. ‘No. Why should I? Daniel said he keeps all his old research papers for his articles up there in case he needs them again, and old computers and printers, stuff like that. He said it’s a bit of a dumping ground and he keeps it locked because he’s researching other people’s personal lives.’ She frowned. ‘Why?’
When Jackman explained, Ruby’s face disintegrated into confusion and pain. She pulled herself together and asked, ‘And now you say he’s missing?’
‘I’m afraid so. We have officers all over the town and the adjacent countryside looking for him. He was seen just a matter of hours ago, so we’ll find him, never fear.’
‘Then I need to tell you that there’s a chance that some of his horrific childhood has seeped back into his memory.’ Ruby now looked composed, almost hard. ‘The doctors said there was a tiny possibility that it might, but it seems he is misunderstanding what he remembers. He was terribly ill-treated by his mother’s druggy “friends.” I cannot even describe the state that child was in when Sam and I saw him in the hospital. You would need to talk to someone with more experience than I, but I suspect that he’s remembering his real mother and some of the terrible things he saw happen. He’s a clever and inquisitive young man, DI Jackman, and I think he chanced on the story about Thayer in his research and made a terrible and incorrect connection with the murderess. Don’t you?’
Jackman’s breath caught in his chest, then he exhaled. ‘You could be right, Mrs Kinder.’
‘Then he’s horrifically wrong about his birth mother! He’ll be in hell, Inspector! You have to find him, and for God’s sake, tell him the truth!’
Jackman struggled to reassure her, but Marie sensed the desperation underlying his words. He went on to tell her about the attempted break-in at her house.
‘I’m not worried about the house. I just want to see my boy safe.’ Ruby Kinder paused and said, ‘Is Skye Wynyard there with you?’
‘She is. Would you like to talk to her?’
‘Oh yes, please. She loves my son, Inspector. This must be agony for her too.’
Feeling like an eavesdropper, Marie listened to the conversation, hearing the affection in their voices as they spoke.
Skye asked, ‘That scar on Dan’s head, did he really fall off a swing?’
‘Oh yes, that was true. To this day I can still hear his scream. I went cold. And I felt so guilty. He’d suffered so much already, all I wanted to do was love and protect him, and he almost died falling from a swing.’ She smiled wanly. ‘Skye, I have to go now. I daren’t be late for my flight out of Chiang Mai. Take care, darling, I’ll see you as soon as I’m home.’
Jackman closed the video connection and they sat in silence. All Marie could see was three young children in a car full of deadly fumes. And she knew that Jackman was imagining the same thing.
Then Jackman yawned loudly. ‘What are we going to do about Skye?’
Marie stretched. ‘It’s getting late. I thought maybe I’d send out for something to eat. She could stay and eat with us. I don’t like the thought of her going home when Daniel is still roaming free.’
‘Me neither. Though we can’t force her to stay if she doesn’t want to.’
‘I’ll go ask her.’ Marie stood up. ‘By the way, any luck getting hold of Guy Preston?’
‘Yes. He’s still pretty angry with himself about what happened. And now he’s kicking himself for not staying for the Skype call.’ Jackman fiddled with a fountain pen on his desk. ‘He reckons that Ruby could be right about her son. Childhood memories flashing through his mind could have led to him creating a hybrid “mother,” part real, and part Françoise Thayer. And Guy says that bothers him a lot.’
‘It bothers me too. Along with the fact that Guy’s car has not been seen, even though we’re checking every CCTV camera in the whole of Saltern. It looks like Daniel Kinder just drove straight into a black hole.’ Marie felt in her pocket for some money. ‘What do you fancy eating?’
‘A deliciously cooked pan-fried sea-bass with olive crushed potatoes and a sauce vierge. Or no, perhaps slices of prime tournedos steak on a bed of truffle oil mash, served with a wild mushroom sauce and a Stilton crouton . . .’
‘I’ll put it to the team,’ Marie replied with a straight face, ‘Though I suspect that the flame-grilled Whopper with fries and coleslaw will get more votes.’
‘Philistines!’
Skye was talking on her mobile phone when Marie found her.
‘That was Dan’s friend, Mark Dunand. He’s going to pick me up after he’s seen tonight’s freight consignment in safely. He’s offered to drive me around some of Dan’s old haunts, just to see if we can find him. I don’t hold out much hope, but it’s better than doing nothing.’
‘Then you’ll have time to eat? I’m afraid it’s only a junk food takeaway.’
Skye nodded eagerly. ‘I haven’t eaten since I don’t know when. That would be great, thanks.’
Marie took Skye with her into the CID room and asked Charlie to go and fetch the burgers. As soon as he’d gone Skye said, ‘I don’t know if this is relevant, but Mark told me about one of his packers who seemed a bit over-interested in Daniel. Do you think it could be something to make enquiries about?’
Marie looked at her. ‘What form did this interest take?’
‘Mark said he could quote Dan’s articles almost word for word, and he was always hanging around Dan when he was in his office.’
‘Do you have his name?’
Skye fumbled around in her shoulder-bag. ‘I wrote it down, Sergeant.’ She produced a yellow post-it note and handed it to Marie. ‘Nick Brewer. He’s apparently highly intelligent. Far
too well qualified to be a packer but Carla, Mark’s manager, said that he was taking on any work he could in order to feed himself.’
‘I can’t think that it’s anything more than a crush, or a bit of hero-worship. I’m sure Daniel’s inundated with messages and comments about his journalistic articles, isn’t he?’
‘Oh yes, he has a massive following.’
For some reason, Marie was not concerned in the slightest about this Nick Brewer’s apparent fixation on Daniel. On the other hand, Mark Dunand did interest her. For one thing, she had not met or spoken to him and she liked to be able to put a face to a name. ‘Have you known Mark for long?’
‘About three years, I guess, but Dan has known him since they were teenagers.’
‘Does Mark know about Daniel’s, er . . .’ Marie tried to find the right description, ‘obsession with Françoise Thayer?’
‘Oh no,’ said Skye. ‘I’m the only one that Dan has ever confided in about the attic room.’ Her face fell. ‘And now I seem to have told the world.’
Marie reached across and squeezed Skye’s arm gently. ‘You’ve done all the right things for Daniel, Skye. You love him, and you are only trying to make things right for him. You have nothing to reproach yourself for.’
‘I feel that I’ve made things worse.’
‘None of this is your fault. And you now know that it’s not Daniel’s fault either, not really.’ The vision of the three children in a locked gas-filled car came to her with a jolt. ‘He’s suffered so much. It’s no wonder he’s as disturbed as he is.’
‘And the worst thing by far, is that he’s got it all wrong,’ said Skye miserably.
‘Not entirely.’ Marie sighed. ‘In fact he was absolutely right, wasn’t he? His mother really was a murderer. But she wasn’t Françoise Thayer. Lucy Carrick wasn’t a ruthless, brutal killer with a morbid bloodlust. She was a drug-addicted girl who couldn’t cope anymore.’