by A. J. Cross
Traynor came to him. ‘Because we know that Annette Barlow, Daniel Broughton and Justin Rhodes each received some kind of offer. Claire was another victim in this series. You have to include her in this investigation.’
Watts shook his head. ‘No. I don’t. Sorry to say this, Traynor, but I think you’re losing all perspective. As far as this investigation goes, I’m on borrowed time, but while I’m still in charge, I won’t let what happened to your wife, your family, hijack it.’
TWENTY-TWO
Monday 22 August. 4 p.m.
Watts eyed the files he’d taken out of the cabinet which were now covering the table. Files full of reports on investigative actions so far. Years old files on each of the victims.
The door swung open and Judd came inside. She stopped. ‘What’s going on?’
‘I’m going up to the squad room. When I come back, I want a detailed report from you of that wine shop visit waiting for me. I won’t ask you again.’ He pointed at the files. ‘When you’ve finished it, get started on these. Start reading every page in every file and list any fact, any inference, anything that strikes you as something we might have missed. Something which might kickstart this investigation.’
Judd looked at the files, then at him. ‘Just me? It’ll take ages.’
‘I’ll work on them as well. I’ve got a week left on this case.’
She looked up at him, shocked. ‘What? Who said?’
He headed for the door. ‘Get started.’
Chong checked the lines of post-mortem information she had just entered, hit ‘Print’ and stretched both arms as the printer did its thing, then headed across the PM suite to her locker. Reaching inside for a small cosmetics bag, she raised her voice. ‘Igor? I’m going upstairs for a few minutes!’ Getting a muffled response, she headed out of the PM suite and one floor up to the ladies’ room. Coming inside, she opened the bag, took out a few items. She and Watts had a date later. Not the going-out kind. More the stay-in-I’ll-cook-you-dinner kind. Which was exactly what she needed. She frowned at her face in the mirror. Mascara and lip gloss applied, she considered her reflection, took out a small hairbrush and gave her short, black hair some energetic swipes as the door opened. She glanced at the small figure standing there.
‘Hi—’ She dropped the brush, went quickly to the door. ‘What on earth’s the matter? What’s wrong …? No, Chloe. Don’t go.’ She reached out, felt the tremor in the slender arm, lowered her voice. ‘Whatever it is, you can tell me.’
Judd shook her head, pressing the back of her hand to her nose and mouth, tears sliding. ‘Stay right there.’ Chong went quickly to a cubicle, emerging with a tissue. ‘Here.’
Judd took it, wiped her face. ‘I’m in the worst trouble.’
‘Oh?’
‘DI Watts wants my notes of a visit I did. He’s been asking for them for days and I don’t want to give them to him because I’m already in trouble with him, but if I do, things will get really bad for me, but if I don’t …’ She bowed her head, sobbed. ‘It’s all a big mess.’
Chong picked up the cosmetics bag, placed a firm hand on Judd’s arm. ‘We can’t talk in here. Just a minute.’ Going to the door, she opened it, looked out, then gestured to Judd. ‘Come on.’ She quickly led her downstairs and into the PM suite where she pointed to a chair, taking one herself. ‘Now, what’s this about, Chloe?’ She watched more large tears slide.
After a minute or two, Judd spoke, eyes averted. ‘I went to this wine shop where Annette Barlow used to work. To speak to the manager. He worked there at the time she disappeared so obviously Sarge regards him as a key witness.’
Chong gave her an encouraging nod. ‘It sounds like you were given an important investigative job.’
The blonde head jerked upwards. ‘Has he said anything to you about it?’
‘No.’
‘I made a mess of things.’
Chong leant towards her. ‘That’s not a disaster. You’re just starting out. What you do is, you tell DI Watts what the problem is and—’
Judd was on her feet. ‘You don’t understand! I can’t. He’s already mad at me for something else. He’ll throw me off the team. Off the investigation. What happened at that wine shop is just what he’s looking for to get rid of me!’
‘Listen to me, Chloe. I’ve known DI Watts for a long time. Yes, he can come across as gruff, offhand, especially when he’s under pressure, but whatever’s happened, you need to tell him, not only because he’s the officer in charge, but also because he’s one of the kindest, fairest men I know. He’ll understand. He’ll do whatever he can for you, trust me.’ Chong gazed at the mascara-streaked face, feeling suddenly uneasy. ‘Tell me what happened at this wine shop.’
‘I can’t.’
‘Chloe, I’m getting a strong indication that whatever’s worrying you, it’s something DI Watts should know about.’ Judd wept. Chong studied the young face, thinking how convenient it must be to weep with such abandon and still look good. ‘Come on, Chloe. You’ve made a start. You might as well tell me the rest.’
Judd wiped her eyes, folded her arms tight against herself. ‘The man I mentioned, the manager of the wine shop, he … he … he was threatening towards me.’
Chong’s brows met. ‘Threatening? How, exactly?’
‘Sexually.’
Chong stopped the swift anger from registering on her face. ‘Then you report him. There are procedures—’
‘I can’t do that.’ Judd’s tone was flat, uncompromising. ‘OK. I’ll tell you about it and you’ll get what I’m saying. His name is Harry Josephs. Did I say that he manages the shop? I wanted to get as much information as I could from him, to give to DI Watts. To help our case. It took me a while to realize how Josephs kind of manipulated the situation when I was there. How thick is that? He didn’t force me to go into the room at the back’ – Chong’s anger was climbing – ‘he suggested it and … I went. Plus, he didn’t actually touch me, because that’s when I realized what was going on.’
‘None of that matters, Chloe. It’s irrelevant. You need to file a complaint against him—’
‘I can’t.’ Tears spilled again. ‘I touched him. I grabbed hold of … him. I hit him. He could make a case for assault against me! If I lose my job I’ll have nothing. No money. I won’t be able to afford to stay in my flat …’
Chong reached for her hands, held them firmly. ‘Chloe, listen to me. You can take this as far as you want and, in my view, you should, but it’s your decision. Have you told anyone else about it? Your family?’ Judd shook her head. ‘It’s important that you do. You need their support.’
Judd stood. ‘I’ve got to make a start on the case files. Find something to move our case on.’
Chong watched her go to the door, her head down. ‘Chloe, trust me, you’ll need to do a lot of talking about this before you feel better.’ She went to her, reached out her hand. ‘I understand that it’s difficult but confiding in your family, somebody you trust, will help. It will give you a sense of control over what’s happened.’ She saw the smooth forehead crease. ‘Whatever you decide to do about this man, please don’t keep what he did to yourself.’
Judd looked up at her. Her next words were heart-breaking.
Watts took the washed plate from Chong. ‘And Traynor and I are at loggerheads because he’s changed his mind about the motive in our case. He’s demanding another search of the scene.’
She passed him another plate. ‘That was a really lovely dinner. Have you considered getting a dishwasher?’
‘What for? There’s just me here a lot of the time and on the odd occasion when there’s a few things left, Mrs Donovan sees to them.’
‘It sounds like you’ve had a hard day.’
‘Yeah. Like most of them since this case started but Brophy’s decided it won’t be my problem for much longer.’
‘Oh?’
‘I’ve got one week max, before he replaces me with somebody out-of-city.’
She stared
up at him. ‘That’s so unfair. Nobody could have worked harder, longer hours since it started.’
He slid plates into the cupboard. ‘You’re making Brophy’s case for him. Hard work. No real results. I’m starting a sweep of all the files to see if we’ve missed anything. I put Judd on to it earlier and she’s mardy as hell at having to do it. She doesn’t think it’s “real” police work.’ He shrugged. ‘I’ve had enough, Connie. Whoever takes over can pursue Nilsen as a suspect for the Roberts murder. Traynor’s theory is that the murders are the work of somebody with a God complex who knew something about each of the victims, that sex isn’t the motive. Our discussion ended on bad terms but I’ve had time to think and I might consider going along with the idea, during these last few days, because I can’t think of any alternative.’
‘How is he?’
He looked at her. ‘My honest opinion? He’s falling apart. Not only is he convinced his wife’s murder is connected to our investigation, he believes her remains are at that scene.’
‘Why would he think that?’
‘This is Traynor we’re talking about. He doesn’t need a why where his wife’s death is concerned. He’s obsessed with it.’
‘Have you considered that he might be right?’
‘No. This investigation doesn’t need two of us losing it.’
‘Coffee?’ she asked. He nodded, draping the tea towel over the cold radiator. Chong measured scoops into the cafetière. ‘How is PC Judd getting on?’
‘Don’t ask, unless you want me to have indigestion all night. This morning I told her I wanted a report which I’d already asked for umpteen times. I still haven’t got it. In fact, I’ve hardly seen her. As soon as she arrives in the morning, I’m going to have it out with her.’
She turned to him. ‘Tell me how she’s doing generally.’
‘She’s made one or two mistakes, but she’s bright, she’s full of ideas and she’s a hard worker.’
‘Does she know that’s what you think?’
‘She will when I do her first appraisal with her. Her non-stop questions drive me nuts, but she probably knows that by now.’
‘I saw her earlier today. In the ladies’ room. She was very upset.’
He watched her pour milk into cups. ‘What about?’ He raised his large hands. ‘Unless it’s something female and not my department, thanks all the same.’
Chong leant against a worksurface waiting for water to heat. ‘Leaving aside your antediluvian tendency to maintain impermeable, male-female divisions, I can help you where Chloe is concerned, but first I want you to tell me what you know about her.’
He frowned. ‘I just told you.’
‘I mean, her background. Her life.’
He shrugged. ‘She’s told me she wanted to join the force since she was about six and that she followed murder cases in the press from about the same age. That’s another thing. I’m not sure I believe any of it. As far as the job is concerned, she’s a bit too quick with the theorizing, seeing the worst in people, but she’s smart. If she listens and learns, she’s got all the makings of a good officer. Like I said, she’s full of ideas. The only trouble is, she never lets up. She tries too hard.’
‘Would you like to know why Chloe tries so hard?’
He went to her, looked down at her face, traced his thick forefinger slowly, gently down the soft curve of her cheek. ‘Go on,’ he whispered.
‘She’s desperate to belong, Bernard.’
He frowned. ‘She does belong. She’s part of this investigation. For longer than I’ll be, by the look of things.’
‘Outside of work, Chloe has nobody to support her when times get hard. The only money she has is what she earns, so she doesn’t have much, if any, security. She can’t afford to lose her job.’
He frowned. ‘What’s all this about money, security? What about her family? She knows that if she’s got a problem, she can come to me, as her SIO.’
Chong looked up at him. ‘Would you like to know why Chloe has such a huge need to belong?’
‘Go on.’
‘She grew up in care from when she was six years old.’
He stared at her. ‘What?’
‘She went into foster care, a place which wasn’t good for her, then to another which was better, followed by a third where she stayed. She has no contact with any of her birth family. She did extremely well at secondary school, joined the volunteer police cadets at fourteen. At eighteen she started her police training. Her last foster carer is ill now, so Chloe chooses not to take any problems she might have to her. What else? She rents two rooms in a large house converted to multi-occupancy, which she tells me is very nice.’
Watts looked at Chong. ‘Poor little sod.’
She shook her head. ‘Chloe Judd is a success story, Bernard. She didn’t say why she came to be in care and I didn’t ask, but she’s got determination and she’s making her way in the job she’s always wanted, as part of your team. Coping on her own at just twenty, making a life for herself.’ She placed her hands against his chest. ‘I remember what I was like at nineteen, twenty. At university, as though it was a right, supported and surrounded by family who loved me and wanted the best for me. You come from a big family. You’ve told me how important that was to you. Chloe’s never had what we’ve had. By the way, I’ve asked PC Jones to have a look at her car. She’s worried about it.’
‘Why didn’t she tell me all of this?’
‘Because she’s fiercely independent and desperate to do well in your team.’
‘I’ll talk to her.’
‘Before you do, there’s something else you need to know. About a visit she made to a wine shop.’
‘That’s the report I’ve been chasing her for. What’s the problem?’ He followed her to the sitting room and the sofa. The cat leapt for his lap as soon as he sat.
‘She told me about the man you asked her to go and see.’
‘The manager, Harry Josephs.’
‘Yes. Chloe is terrified that she’ll lose her place on your team and her job if she tells you what happened to her there.’ She paused. ‘Harry Josephs made a sexual advance to her.’
Watts was on his feet, the cat airborne. ‘He what?’
‘Chloe hasn’t told you about it because she thinks she was to blame.’
‘She knows better than—’
‘She’s worried. She thinks Josephs might make a counter-accusation against her for physical assault.’
He stared at her. ‘What did she do?’
‘She grabbed his genitals, following it up with a smart chop across his throat.’
Watts paced the room. ‘The scumbag! I’ll bloody have him!’
‘Bernard, listen. You don’t know what Chloe wants. You need to think about that, before you say or do anything.’
He sat, his big hands bunched together, staring ahead. ‘Yeah. I will.’
TWENTY-THREE
Tuesday 23 August. Ten a.m.
An enduring sense of dissatisfaction took Watts back to the bookshop the next morning. As on his previous visit, he found Edward Arnold occupied with customers. When the last had moved away, Watts walked over to him. ‘Busy as ever, Mr Arnold?’
‘Detective Inspector! Yes, but you won’t hear me complaining.’
‘I was passing and I thought I’d drop in. See if you’ve remembered anything since I was last here.’
Arnold looked disconcerted. ‘Oh, dear. Did I say I’d think about it? I did very briefly after you left, but that was about it.’
The observations Watts had made during his previous visit here had told him something useful about the bookseller. He was a conformist, somebody who lived by the rules and had a critical eye for his neighbours. A person who judged. He glanced around. ‘You’ve got a great business here. I can see that your customers trust you.’
Arnold looked uncertain. ‘I hope so.’
Watts took a few steps away, turned. The strong sunlight streaming through the shop window glinted on Arnol
d’s watch. ‘Something’s on my mind, Mr Arnold.’
‘Oh?’
‘What’s bothering me is Daniel Broughton’s visit here, shortly before he disappeared. I’ve got questions about it which aren’t going away. Why did Broughton come in here that day, when he’d previously never set foot in the place? Why did he leave the way he did? I thought you might be able to help us out on that, seeing as you knew him.’
Arnold’s face reddened. He shook his head. ‘I didn’t know him. Not to the degree I think you’re implying.’
‘I never “imply”, Mr Arnold. Have you got any explanation for why Broughton was in here that day?’
‘Only what he told me and I told you last time you were here, that he needed a book on house designs to show to a very demanding client.’
‘I’d have thought an experienced property developer like Broughton would have plenty of that kind of stuff already.’ Arnold didn’t respond. ‘Why did Broughton leave by the back way?’
Arnold raised his hands. ‘I don’t know. Actually, he could have left by the main door and the bell didn’t ring.’
Not getting what he’d hoped for, Watts changed tack. ‘Did you, the people around here, view him as trustworthy?’
Arnold appeared to give this some thought. ‘His line of business was very different from mine, of course, but I’d say he was well enough regarded.’
Watts heard the careful endorsement. ‘My impression is that he upset a few people around here because of the house he was building, his attitude to the Neighbourhood Watch.’
Arnold frowned at him. ‘Please don’t take what I said out of context, Detective Inspector. This suburb regards itself as a “village”. Residents tend to stay for years and inevitably those kinds of small frictions occur.’
‘There would have been speculation among residents following Broughton’s disappearance? Some talk about what might have happened to him?’
‘All I recall is everybody being mystified. We couldn’t understand it.’
Watts lifted the cover of a book on the counter, let it drop. ‘It never occurred to you or anybody else that Broughton’s disappearance might be linked to something he was involved in? Somebody he’d upset?’