by Joy Ellis
‘Absolutely, ma’am.’
* * *
Rory Wilkinson took his time. He walked slowly around the cottage, looking constantly from the forensic photographs to the stains themselves. Uncharacteristically, he made no comment.
Finally he turned to Jackman and said, ‘Bloodstain evidence has always fascinated me. It’s far more complex than the layman would believe.’
Jackman looked at him with interest. Rory hadn’t made a single sarcastic or humorous comment.
‘I’m only guessing, but I think our Squirrel was covering his back somewhat when he submitted his report. This woman died right here. There’s no doubt at all.’
Jackman digested the news. ‘Can you give me any idea what happened?’
‘Luckily, the record of the bloodstain and spatter patterns was beautifully done. If you give me a little longer I can probably reconstruct the scene, using some spanking new technology, and tell you exactly what happened.’ He grinned. ‘I am a genius, after all.’
‘You won’t find me disagreeing.’
Rory put the photographs and reports in his brief case. ‘I’m going to enjoy this. I have already ascertained that we have spatter, transfer, cast-off and drag marks, plus an arterial bleed with its distinctive rhythmic spurts. It’s a positive haemo-cornucopia of delights!’
‘Glad you think so,’ said Jackman drily.
‘Give me until tonight, and I will present the next episode in this nail-biting drama.’
‘You’re a diamond, Prof.’
‘I am rather, aren’t I?’
* * *
Marie and Carter were back in the car, considerably more relaxed than before.
Carter passed her a bag containing a jam donut, and balanced a cardboard beaker of coffee on the dash. ‘They didn’t like her, did they? Not one of them.’
‘They did not. And we’ve spoken to a lot of people this morning. Work colleagues, people she met in different places, like her gym and her hairdressers, and not a single one of them liked her.’
‘Yet poor Tom idolised her.’ Carter sounded very sad. ‘Or he seemed to.’
‘What was Tom like?’ Marie just managed to stop herself from looking over her shoulder.
‘Gentle. That’s the first word that comes to mind. Kind, thoughtful, and a great laugh, but never in an unkind way. The kids in our outward bound group all loved him.’
Marie bit into her donut. ‘Was he maybe too soft? As in almost naïve? You said he thought love was all that mattered, not his wife’s dubious past.’
‘No, not naïve. He was quite simply a good person. He preferred to think the best of people. Not like us cynical coppers, who always expect to find the worst.’
Marie brushed sugar off her trousers. ‘I’m so sorry you lost your friend, Carter. He sounds like a really great guy.’
‘He is — uh, he was. One of the best. I miss him. I miss them all.’
Marie felt tears forming and changed the subject. ‘So what do we make of Suzanne?’
Carter slurped his coffee. ‘That my initial impression was bloody right. Tom Holland was a fucking goofball to marry the tart. He must have had shit for brains.’
Marie burst out laughing, and after a moment, Carter joined in.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
‘I don’t know who he was! How many times do I have to tell you?’ Danny Hurley raged.
Jackman looked on impassively.
Jackman had studied sociology at university, and he hadn’t forgotten what he’d learned. He listened, of course, but he also watched. Body language and mannerisms spoke as loudly as words. Sometimes they positively shouted.
‘So, you were paid to follow and abduct the very girl you were obsessed with. Can you see how that looks to us, Danny?’ He turned to Gary Pritchard. ‘Wouldn’t you say it’s just a little bit far-fetched, Constable?’
Gary nodded sagely. ‘Oh dear yes, sir. Quite a stretch of the imagination.’
Danny punched a fist into his cupped hand. ‘No! You’ve got it all wrong! Why won’t you listen?’
‘We are listening, Danny, but what we are hearing doesn’t make too much sense.’
‘I was paid to do a few things. Send her flowers, chocolates and stuff like that.’
‘But you don’t know who the person was?’
‘I never met him.’
‘Him? You know it was a man? How?’
Danny stammered. ‘Well, I don’t, but a woman wouldn’t be doing that, would she?’
‘How did you get paid?’
‘Cash and instructions arrived with a parcel delivery service.’
‘You’ve got to be kidding! No one sends money with a man with a van!’ Gary exclaimed. ‘What company was it?’
Danny stared at the scratches on the table and mumbled, ‘I dunno. It was an unmarked car.’
Jackman shook his head. ‘Better and better. So, where are these “instructions?”’
‘I burnt them. It was part of the deal.’
Jackman leaned forward. ‘Why not start telling us the truth, Danny? You really liked the girl, didn’t you? And you wanted her. We’ve seen the pictures on your wall, Danny. You didn’t take them for someone else, did you? They were just for you.’
Danny’s eyes narrowed, but he said nothing.
In the ensuing silence, Jackman decided to try a different tack. ‘Okay, Danny. Let’s say I believe you. I don’t, but let’s assume I do. Did you know Leah before Mr Anonymous contacted you?’
‘I’d never seen her before.’
‘Right, so he sent you money and you started . . . what? Putting cards through her door? Something like that?’
Danny nodded. ‘Cards, yes. And notes, then roses.’
‘So they weren’t really from you, but from another guy who fancied her?’
Danny didn’t seem happy with this idea. ‘It wasn’t like that.’
‘How do you know? It sounds like it to me. Someone giving you money to spend on an attractive young woman? I’d say they definitely wanted something from her.’ He shot a knowing glance to Gary. ‘What I don’t get is why, if you had the hots for someone, you would take them flowers and love tokens from another man?’
Gary rubbed his chin thoughtfully. ‘Well, I certainly wouldn’t.’
Jackman could almost hear Danny grinding his teeth.
‘Help us out here, Danny. We are struggling.’
‘It’s about revenge! Alright! It was payback time! Then I saw Leah and, well . . .’
He threw up his hands, and then his voice fell to a whisper. ‘I’d only ever heard of love at first sight. They didn’t care about her, they never did. It wasn’t about her at all, just revenge. But for me, it was a dream.’ He slumped forward and put his head in his hands. ‘A dream.’
Jackman nodded towards the door and he and Gary stood up. ‘Interview suspended at fourteen hundred hours. DI Jackman and PC Gary Pritchard are leaving the room.’
Outside, Jackman beckoned Gary into an empty room and closed the door.
‘We need to get Leah out of uni and back under close observation. Do you agree?’
Gary nodded. ‘Someone is after the super, aren’t they?’
‘I’m sure of it. Danny Hurley is infatuated with Leah, that’s a fact. But I reckon he was telling the truth about a retribution thing.’
‘Me too.’
‘I’m going to see if there is anything in his statement that could point us to the villain who is behind this. You speak to your sergeant and get Leah taken to a place of safety. Danny might have cocked up, but she’s still in danger.’
Gary turned to leave. ‘Let’s hope that Danny’s bungled mission and his arrest have scared the bastard off.’
‘Let’s hope so, but in the meantime, belt and braces.’
‘I’m on it, sir!’
‘And for heaven’s sake, hurry! Whoever paid him is still out there.’
* * *
Three-quarters of an hour later, Jackman sat opposite Ruth Crooke, wonder
ing how much more the woman could take. The invincible superintendent he was used to seeing had gone. He understood why, but found the transformation dispiriting.
‘I never told you, Rowan, but my sister did not have a good death, if there is such a thing. That is probably why I try to compensate when it comes to Leah. I only want the best for her, and whereas we can’t ensure the easiest passage through life, I did want her journey to be a safe one.’ Ruth pushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear. ‘She found her mother’s body.’
Jackman already knew that Ruth’s sister had taken her own life, but not that her daughter had found her. ‘I am so sorry, Ruth. That’s a terrible thing to happen to someone, especially a young person.’
‘I think that’s why she’s studying psychology. She wants to help save others from the same fate.’
‘A very good reason.’ He smiled. ‘I thought she was a very strong young woman. Now I’m certain of it.’
‘So, what have you gleaned from the Hurley creature?’
Jackman explained about the interview. ‘The second time I went in, I took Rosie with me, and we found out a bit more.’ He leaned forward. ‘We believe that this mystery man only intended to put the frighteners on you via your niece. It was Danny Hurley who upped the game. We’ve pieced together what he was actually instructed to do, and the rest he did off his own bat. Both Rosie and I believe that the intention was never to kidnap or abduct her, but Danny changed the plan.’
Ruth frowned. ‘So he was out to scare me, not take Leah.’
‘That’s what I think. The instructions this man, if indeed it is a man, left were quite convoluted. Danny had to use gofers and keep himself in the background, out of sight. He was to conduct the orchestra, not play the instruments himself.’
‘Well, that didn’t work, did it? They really should have done their homework before hiring him.’
‘Yes. He, or she, certainly picked a wrong one there.’
‘Hearing this makes me feel a little easier, although we can never assume anything, can we?’
‘Of course not, ma’am. But I feel the same. Danny’s unpredictability could have caused some really serious damage.’
‘So how can we trace his unknown “employer?”’
‘Well . . .’ Jackman hesitated. ‘I was thinking I’d deploy Carter out on the streets. He knows more about the local thieves and villains than all the rest of us plods put together.’
‘And has more connections in higher circles than the chief constable.’ There was a hint of bitterness in Ruth’s words. ‘He’s an enigma. But like it or not, he’s a valuable asset. Just never, never let him know I said that.’
‘As if!’
‘Okay, let him go digging, but for God’s sake, keep him on a short rein.’
‘I’ll do better, ma’am. I’ll hand over the reins to Marie Evans.’
CHAPTER TWENTY
Carter looked worried. ‘I’ll do my best, but I’ve probably used up most of my loyalty points tracking the bastard down in the first place.’
‘Try money.’ Jackman looked around. There was no one within earshot. ‘I’ve made a few minor adjustments to my budget sheet.’ He held out an envelope.
‘I don’t need that, sir. I think Ruth should have this one on me, after all she’s gone through.’
‘Take it. She was the one who authorised it.’
Marie took the envelope and pushed it deep into her jacket pocket. ‘Well, while you two are forming the Saltern debating society, I’m making the decisions. Come on, Carter, let’s get back out there.’
Carter threw up his hands in surrender. ‘Gotta go. Orders.’
Jackman watched them walk away. They were clearly comfortable working together. He just prayed that Carter’s issues didn’t affect Marie any more than they had already. Perhaps, just perhaps, finding out what happened to Suzanne Holland would draw a line under this whole episode.
Jackman went back into his office and closed the door. When something terrible happened, there was always more than one victim. Disaster had a ripple effect, like a pebble thrown into a lake, drawing in many more people than those directly involved. Jackman sighed. He had a feeling that things were going to get a whole lot worse before they got better.
* * *
‘At sodding last! Got something, lads!’ Max snatched an email from the printer. Robbie and Charlie hurried over.
‘Doolan is in Scunthorpe General Hospital. He was in an RTC yesterday.’
‘How bad is he?’ asked Charlie.
‘Not good, but not critical either. We need to go see him.’ Max grinned at Robbie. ‘And even though there’s no sun, sea, sand or sangria, like some people’s recent trips, this one is mine.’
Robbie held up his hands. ‘Scunthorpe is all yours.’ He grinned back. ‘Although I am bitterly disappointed.’
‘Yeah, I’m sure. Bitterly.’
Max hurried off to tell the boss, and Robbie and Charlie returned to their desks. It wasn’t over yet. They still had to place him at the scene of the crime. But at least they now knew where he was, and by the sound of it, he wouldn’t be going anywhere any time soon. Another link in the chain.
Robbie stood up. ‘Want a coffee, Charlie-boy?’
‘White with two, please.’ He put a hand in his pocket.
‘Forget it, it’s my turn.’
Robbie strolled along to the coffee machine, wondering how his expat friend was doing. If Harvey had been local, Robbie would have visited him again. He had a distinct feeling that all was not well with HC. Not only that, he knew he had been holding something back. What was it? Could it be important?
Robbie carried the two coffees back to the CID room and set one down in front of Charlie.
‘Thanks.’ Charlie looked up from his monitor screen. ‘I’ve been thinking. What if Ponytail isn’t Ralph Doolan?’
Robbie blinked. Charlie had a knack of saying the blindingly obvious, in a way that made you think again. ‘I’ve been rather running with the hypothesis that there wouldn’t be two Ponytails and Glasses in Suzanne’s life.’
‘Why not?’ Charlie shrugged, ‘He was a dead ringer for Alan Pitt’s cousin, and the boss said he looked like an Arsenal footballer, so? She could have known two Ponytails. It’s not impossible.’
Robbie stared at him. ‘What the hell does the boss know about Arsenal?’
Charlie laughed. ‘Sod all, as far as I know. But if Doolan comes up with a cast-iron alibi, we need to start looking for Ponytail II, don’t we?’
‘I suppose.’ Robbie let out a sigh. ‘I can hardly wait.’
* * *
Sam Page had just finished a long stint on the riverbank, watching great crested grebes. As soon as he entered the house, he checked his answerphone. No messages.
He went into the kitchen and put the kettle on. He was worried about Laura. She had been so interested in hearing his opinion of her complex patient, and then nothing.
He made tea and took it through to the sun lounge. He had deliberately left his garden to grow wild, and it was now a haven for wildlife. Sam loved nothing better than watching his “lodgers,” as he called the field mice, hedgehogs, bats and other creatures that had made it their home.
He sipped his tea and thought about Laura Archer.
She had told him the story of this patient of hers called Carter, and Sam had realised that it was one of those rare cases where the client affects the therapist in a profound way. He hated to see Laura so anxious, but he didn’t know what to do about it.
Eventually he muttered to himself, ‘Come on, Sam. Just call her.’
Laura answered before the second ring. She must have been waiting for a call from someone else. ‘Shall I ring back at a better time?’ he asked.
‘Oh, Sam, no, of course not. Now is fine.’
‘I was wondering if you’d managed to tie your man down to an appointment where I can sit in. I’m quite free this week.’
Sam heard a muffled grunt.
‘He’s not re
turning my calls. I’ve rung and left messages, and I’ve texted him, but he’s not getting back. I’m sorry, Sam, but I guess we’ll have to forget it.’
‘You are very worried about him, aren’t you?’
Her silence spoke volumes.
‘Laura, you can’t heal them all. Just as some physical injuries are beyond the help of a surgeon, injuries to the mind can have the same outcome.’
‘I had a brief word with his friend, Marie. She told me that his fourth friend is with him all the time now. It has scared the life out of me. It’s not something I’ve ever dealt with before.’
‘Yet he still functions?’
‘He does outwardly, and he seems to keep this friend, Tom, well under wraps. No one other than Marie and her DI are aware that anything is wrong. To most people, he’s an amazing survivor — a superhero.’
Sam thought about it. ‘From what you told me, he chose an excellent coping mechanism. As he no longer “sees” the other three friends, it is clearly working for him, but the fourth task is much more difficult. How long is it since this woman disappeared?’
Laura murmured, ‘Eighteen months, Sam. A long time.’
‘And Carter believes that this friend wants him to find out what happened to his wife?’
‘That’s what he says.’
‘And all the time he is being haunted by the friend’s restless, unquiet soul. We have to consider that this case may linger on for a very long while.’ He took a breath. ‘And I’m not sure how Carter will handle that. The labours of Hercules seem a bit tame compared to the task that young man has set himself.’
‘That doesn’t bear thinking about, Sam.’
‘There is another worrying factor.’
‘And that is?’
‘That he has got under your skin. You are too close to this man. You must detach yourself. You cannot afford to let him breach your defences.’
Laura did not answer him.
Her silence told him all he needed to know. ‘Can I ask, have you finished your paper? The one on psychosocial transitions?’
‘I’ve ditched it.’
‘Why?’
‘Oh, you know why! He was my main case study, wasn’t he?’
‘Let me take over his case. I know that you are more than capable of dealing with his problem, but you are too involved with the man himself. It’s not healthy, my dear. You don’t need me to tell you about distancing yourself emotionally.’