The Trophy Taker

by Sarah Flint

  ‘So do you think it has?’

  ‘I don’t know. I thought initially it was some bloke that had picked him up last night. There are quite a few men around our scene who like sadomasochism and other sick fetishes. I’ve never gone in for that sort of stuff myself.’ He pulled a tissue from his pocket and blew his nose hard on it, looking suddenly stricken. ‘I shouldn’t have left him. I should have got a job where I didn’t have to travel.’

  ‘It’s not your fault, Roger. You did the best you could for JJ.’

  ‘Well, I tried to help him but it wasn’t good enough, was it? I let him down. I tried to save him. God knows how I tried.’ He slumped forward, dropping his head down into his hands and broke down in tears again. ‘But maybe I never could.’

  Chapter 24

  ‘Boss, there’s every chance that Jason Jennings could be known to our suspects and possibly even Susan Barton. He’s originally from the South London area. He could well have crossed paths with all of them. He was quite a handful by the look of it.’

  Paul held up a stack of computer printouts. Charlie took the pile and skimmed through the first few pages.

  Jason Jennings had been very well known to police. The first time he had come to their notice was as an eleven-year-old when he was found in a filthy house, with no food or warmth and just a dog for company. His father was located later in the nearby pub, pissed and proclaiming that if his lazy bitch of a wife hadn’t walked off and left him, none of this would have happened. It turned out that she’d only left him after a thirteenth recorded assault but was so scared that he would find her she’d refused to give a forwarding address. Jason was therefore, through no fault of his own, taken into care.

  There followed a huge number of reports detailing times when the boy had run away from foster homes, then care homes, caused damage to his surroundings, assaulted, or threatened to assault his carers and generally been out of control. He had been arrested on numerous occasions for petty crime, mainly for criminal damage, theft, assaults, public order offences and later for possession of drugs and drink-related crimes. The boy had been crying out for help.

  Charlie had seen it before and hated the fact that she could do nothing to help. In the first month of her service she had dealt with a young girl, abused and left to fend for herself by drug-addicted parents. Over the following nine years, she’d watched as the girl had been lured into addiction and prostitution, before eventually ending up in a mental hospital. Jason Jennings’ childhood and teenage years appeared to have followed the same path.

  ‘Another kid who didn’t stand a chance.’ She threw the papers back down on Paul’s desk and sat down heavily next to him.

  ‘I know. It’s criminal. It’s no wonder so many of them end up dead or in prisons,’ Bet chipped in. ‘If I had my way I’d string their parents up. There’s no excuse. I’ve been through a few dodgy partners myself, but whatever happens you don’t take it out on the kids.’

  ‘And JJ probably had an even harder time if he was struggling with his sexuality,’ Paul added. ‘It’s difficult enough when you have good parents. God only knows what it must have been like with a father like his.’

  ‘Is his father still around?’ Hunter brought their attention back to the job in hand. ‘If he is, he needs talking to. He could be a suspect for JJ’s murder. Though whether he will have any link to Susan is a different matter. Who knows?’

  ‘I’ll take a look, boss.’ Paul made a note of the enquiry.

  ‘You said Jennings might be linked to all our other suspects?’

  ‘Nothing firm as yet but he has a lot of history. He moved from one school to another around South London, so it’s possible he was at a school that Atkins worked in at some point, or Susan. He may have been taught by her or have been known to her through the schools or possibly the clubs at the church she went to. If he was known to Susan then he could have come into contact with Mickey. Likewise with Abrahams; paedophiles like him used to make a habit of working at care facilities or with vulnerable children whenever they could in those days, so it’s very possible that they came into contact with each other. JJ could even be one of his unidentified victims.’

  ‘Good work, you two, but we need definitive links.’

  ‘Easier said than done boss; but we’ll try. There’s a mountain of background information on JJ to sift through, especially from his childhood. There must be links; it’ll just be a case of finding them.’ Paul dipped into a handful of peanuts that Bet had just poured into a bowl. ‘He appears to have settled down a little more when he became an adult. From eighteen onwards there’s less on the system for him our end.’

  ‘Sussex have given us access to everything they have on him since his move down there with Roger almost sixteen years ago. He’s been stopped with lots of different people and come to their notice mostly on the gay scene, but nothing that stands out particularly as yet.’

  ‘Thanks, Bet. So if that was sixteen years ago he must have been around twenty-six years old when he moved there. So find out what calmed him down between eighteen to twenty-six; was there something or someone that influenced the change. Roger Stevenson says that he met JJ in 2000 at a club in Soho and he believed something had recently happened to make him want to run away. See if you can find out who he was around in those years, particularly if he came into contact with any of our suspects, during that time. Paul, if you work backwards from that date and Bet, you work forward, hopefully one of you will find something, anything, to link JJ to one of our suspects and give me an excuse to bring them in again.’

  ‘Any chance we can help too?’ Naz piped up from across the office from where she was seated with Sabira, underneath a large “Wanted” poster of Cornell Miller. ‘We’re at a bit of standstill with the Miller case at the moment. Can’t do much until we get a bit of livetime information. He’s circulated on every relevant database and Sabira even contacted Crimewatch yesterday to get him up on the next programme’s ‘Most Wanted’ appeals, but that’s not for another week.’

  ‘Yes, have a break from Miller for the day. He’ll show up soon. He has to. Can you go back through Abrahams’ previous convictions and if possible link in with any officers who dealt with his crimes. See if we can get names for all his known victims and faces or descriptions of any of the unknown children from the kiddie porn found in his possession.’

  ‘Will do. I know a few people on the Sapphire and Jigsaw teams. I’ll link in with them and see if he’s known to them.’ Naz pulled her phone out immediately.

  ‘And I’ve got a mate in one of the new Child Sexual Exploitation Teams. I’ll give them a shout.’ Sabira jumped up and went to her desk.

  ‘What do you want me to do, boss?’ Charlie was excited at the prospect of finding a link now, especially with everyone involved.

  ‘Well, I’ll go and try to get updates on how the forensic stuff is doing at the various addresses and if Abrahams’ car has pinged up on any ANPR activations. I’ll also make sure Bernie Groves has his registration number for his squad in Brighton to look out for.’ Hunter started to walk towards his office, stopping as he got to the door to turn back. ‘I’d like to take a quick drive back up to Harris Academy with you in a few minutes; see if that old receptionist knows anything and will let us have the records of Atkins’ and Susan’s previous schools and education. We also need to pay a visit to the church Susan and Mickey attended, while we’re down that way.’

  *

  Harris Academy was unusually quiet when they pulled up. It was mid-morning and would normally have been buzzing with the sound of hundreds of students moving from one lesson to another but it was as if the whole school were subject to bail conditions, not just the headteacher.

  George was sitting upright at his desk when Hunter and Charlie approached. He sat up even straighter when they came into view.

  ‘Mr Atkins is not in today, as I’m sure you are aware. He’s on self-certificated sick leave. What can I do for you?’

  Hunter dipped
his head towards the receptionist. ‘We wondered if you could assist us with the record of which schools and educational facilities Mr Atkins has worked or studied at, prior to being appointed as headteacher here. Susan Barton too?’

  ‘I’m not sure I’m at liberty to help. I certainly couldn’t allow you into Mr Atkins’ office without his express permission.’

  Hunter peered at the badge the receptionist was wearing before clearing his throat. It showed George’s full name.

  ‘Mr Lincoln. We’ve already searched the office once, when Mr Atkins was arrested. I’m aware that he had files containing his previous history. We had no need to take them at the time as we knew that Susan worked here and it wasn’t therefore relevant. Now, however, we have another dead body, so I would suggest you cooperate with our enquiries because otherwise we might have to think about arresting you for obstructing police in the execution of their duty.’

  Charlie stifled a snigger as George Lincoln swallowed hard and propped his glasses back up on the bridge of his nose. There was no way Hunter really would want to be arresting the receptionist and creating even more work than they had already. Technically, if he refused to allow them entry they would have to get a warrant, but if he co-operated with them, it would save them a good few hours of typing and court visits. A little squeeze of the rather stuffy receptionist would save them a lot of time and trouble.

  ‘Well, officer, I really don’t know that I can allow you access without at least making contact with Mr Atkins. I’m sorry. I’m not being awkward on purpose. If you’d just allow me to make a phone call?’

  Hunter beckoned towards Charlie. ‘Have you got your handcuffs on you, DC Stafford?’

  ‘But, but...’

  ‘What’s going on here George? DI Hunter, DC Stafford, what can I do for you.’ Charlie looked up and saw Daniel Roberts striding towards them with Sophie Pasqual trotting along in his wake. They seemed to be joined at the hip. He smiled at her and pushed his hands deep into the pockets of some green corduroy slacks that looked ancient.

  ‘The officers here want access to Vincent’s office to look at his CV. I was just saying that I should get his permission first.’

  ‘Well I’m sure that won’t be necessary. I doubt he would be particularly bothered, wherever he is, and the police have already been in there once, haven’t they? Besides, I’m sure if they were to conduct a few searches on the internet, most of the details would be a matter of public record anyway. George, if there are any problems just say that I gave them permission.’

  George Lincoln nodded stiffly and took a key from a drawer next to his desk. ‘If you say so,’ he said, making a show of passing it to Daniel Roberts rather than Hunter. Charlie stifled a smile again. He was so prim and proper. He really should have lived a hundred years ago.

  She turned towards Daniel, who looked as if he’d read her amusement and was himself entertained by her reaction. He was a strong, assertive man, a little too old for her liking, but if he’d been twenty years younger and just a tad less hairy she would have found him quite attractive.

  Daniel unlocked the door and pushed it open and she and Hunter entered the office. It didn’t look as if Atkins had been in there since the police search. He was obviously lying low. The room was still in a state of disarray, files lying open and messy. Atkins would go mad if he saw it like this; she remembered how neat it had been on their first visit, everything placed precisely in order and in its place.

  Hunter went straight to the filing cabinet and started to leaf through the various compartments. Charlie stayed by the door next to Daniel whose bulk was blocking out the light from the corridor. She switched the light on and turned towards him.

  ‘Did Mr Atkins keep all the staff records here too, do you know? We were hoping to find Susan’s so we can check back on where she’d worked before?’

  ‘Do you think they might have known each other at a previous school then, before they worked together here?’

  ‘Possibly, but we’ve got another similar case just come in and we’re more interested in finding out if there are any links between them and the new victim.’

  ‘What? Another murder? How awful,’ Sophie Pasqual squeaked from behind Daniel. ‘Oh my God, Daniel. Do you think Vincent’s got something to do with the new one too?’

  ‘Who knows what’s been going on? He’s always been a bit of a strange character.’

  Charlie shook her head. ‘Please don’t go jumping to conclusions. We’re just investigating every possible theory at the moment.’ They were both listening intently to what she said. ‘On that note, do either of you know which church Susan and her husband went to?’

  ‘I think it was the modern-looking one in Norwood High Street,’ Daniel moved to one side as Hunter appeared to have finished. ‘I can’t remember its name. Susan pointed it out to me one day when we were returning from a conference. She said she helped out at the Union of Catholic Mothers and I’m sure she said that Mickey helped out with the Scout Group that was attached to it. Do you think someone there might be involved?’

  ‘It might be the priest?’ Sophie Pasqual piped up excitedly. ‘Men of the cloth do lead mysterious lives. There was a priest in my village in France once who was having affairs with five ladies from the parish at the same time. No one knew about it until one of the wives confessed to her husband. The priest was driven from the village by the men, but the church hushed it all up.’

  ‘We are keeping all our options open as DC Stafford just said.’ Hunter clearly wasn’t going to entertain Sophie Pasqual’s notions. ‘Now, Mr Roberts, I have taken the files for Mr Atkins and the rest of the staff, as you can see. If you’d care to sign to say I have them, we’ll be on our way.’

  *

  ‘Ridiculous woman.’ Hunter couldn’t keep the irritation from his voice as Charlie drove towards the church.

  ‘Maybe she’s got a point though, boss. You know what these Catholic priests are like!’ She couldn’t stop the grin spreading across her face. ‘Didn’t you say so yourself not so long ago? The religious fraternity and the educational lot are a bit strange… or something similar.’

  ‘I think you’ll find that was Mickey Barton’s assessment.’ He stopped at the realisation that she was winding him up and frowned good-humouredly. ‘But they do have a point, though I’d never have thought the likes of Sophie Pasqual and Mickey Barton would agree on anything. Let’s see, shall we?’

  She was pulling up in the car park of a brick-built rectangular building. There were no extravagant entrance porches, domes or spires; just two sets of wooden doors and a cross situated at the top of the roof to the right-hand side. A large white sign with the words ‘Catholic Church’ dominated the wall, but other than these features there was nothing obvious to denote the usual lavishness of the Roman Catholic religion.

  ‘This is refreshingly simple for a church,’ Charlie observed.

  They got out and headed towards the doors which were all locked, so they walked around the side, realising almost immediately that they had been looking at the rear profile of the building and that the frontage was as large and elaborate as the typical church. A sizeable statue adorned the middle of a central arched window underneath the cross, which stood high on the apex of the roof.

  ‘OK, maybe not. See, boss, it’s never as it seems.’

  Before Hunter had a chance to answer, they saw the figure of a man approaching. He was olive-skinned, with black hair, neatly trimmed and held in place with what appeared to be a liberal application of hair gel. He looked to be in his late-forties, sporting a cropped beard, little more than designer stubble really, and the outline of a moustache, which added to his carefully tailored appearance. He wore the distinctive everyday clothes of a Catholic priest, a black cassock, tight across his shoulders and upper arms, and a white tab collar. For a priest he seemed remarkably toned. He held his hand out towards them.

  ‘Hello, I’m Father Antonio. Can I help you?’

  Charlie held her warrant
card out towards him. ‘DC Charlotte Stafford and this is DI Geoffrey Hunter. We need to speak to you about Susan Barton.’

  ‘Ah yes, I wondered when you’d come. What a tragedy. Come in. I’ll help you in any way I can.’

  He led them back towards the car park and unlocked the doors they had first tried, before stepping into the main body of the church. The air was filled with the scent of incense; a dozen candles flickered at a side altar under a statue of Our Lady of Fatima and the main altar was adorned with an embroidered navy cloth. A large silver candelabra containing four candles, each burning brightly, stood at its centre.

  Charlie followed behind Hunter feeling suddenly claustrophobic in the heavily perfumed atmosphere. Religious environments always made her uncomfortable. They were taken into the priest’s office, which was fitted out with a round wooden table and high-backed wooden chairs. A large golden crucifix hung resolutely against an elaborately decorated backdrop, drawing the eye immediately on entry, with other religious symbols and artefacts dotted around. The walls were adorned with photos of various members of the congregation, along with priests, past and present; several related to visits from bishops to the church. A particularly ornately framed picture even showed a priest kneeling reverently before Pope Benedict. She stared at it for a few seconds, fascinated by the idea that two men could be treated so differently from one another. They were both human after all?

  Father Antonio waited for Charlie to finish looking at the photos before sitting down. They chose seats opposite him and he started to speak immediately.

  ‘Susan was a valued member of our congregation here. Her death has been a great shock to us all. She was active on many of our committees and a leading member of the Union of Catholic Mothers. I have been praying for her and her family since I heard the awful news.’ He stopped and gave the sign of the cross, bowing his head momentarily. ‘God rest her soul. I was hoping that her husband would ask me to preside over her funeral. I know that many people in the congregation would like to say farewell and pay their last respects.’