by Helen Cox
‘Certainly, getting some drugs planted in Jodie’s locker would be no problem at all,’ said Kitt.
‘You’re right,’ said Cynthia. ‘And who knows what else he could pull off if he really wanted to?’
‘That’s settled then,’ said Kitt. ‘I’m going to report all this to Halloran and to DI Thompson down at Durham police station.’
‘You needn’t bother coming down to the police station,’ said a deep voice.
‘DI Thompson?’ Kitt said, turning to face the officer in surprise. ‘What’s going on?’
Grace also turned to take a look at DI Thompson, whom, up until this point, she had only heard about second-hand through Kitt. He was dressed in a long black winter coat and was holding a pair of handcuffs. His moustache twitched as he talked.
‘I’m afraid we’re here for Mr Howard.’
‘For Patrick? Why?’ said Cynthia. ‘And how did you even know he was here? You’re not still watching him a year after what happened to Jodie? You’ve no case against him, and you know it.’
‘We tracked his phone here,’ said DI Thompson, his expression grave.
Grace looked over at Patrick. He looked pale, faint almost, and was breathing heavily.
‘Patrick Howard, you are under arrest on suspicion of the murder of Jodie Perkins,’ DI Thompson said, before continuing to caution his suspect.
‘This is ridiculous,’ said Cynthia. ‘Patrick didn’t kill Jodie. He wouldn’t. What evidence do you think you have?’
‘A witness has come forward, madam. He saw Jodie down by the river just before the attack, with Mr Howard. He was the last person to see her alive,’ DI Thompson explained.
‘What witness?’ said Cynthia. ‘Who is it?’
‘I’m afraid I can’t disclose that, Ms Howard.’
‘There’s . . . been some kind of mistake. There must have been,’ Cynthia said, panic really setting into her voice now.
‘No, Mum, there hasn’t,’ Patrick said, looking at Cynthia with those big sorrowful eyes. ‘I did it. I killed Jodie.’
Twenty-One
‘What are you talking about?’ Cynthia said. ‘Don’t you say that. No, you didn’t. You wouldn’t do that.’
‘I did, Mum. It’s obvious, isn’t it? I can’t remember a thing about the night Jodie disappeared. But ever since, I’ve been having these . . . flashes. Like memories resurfacing or something. And I can see myself with my hands around Jodie’s neck, strangling her. And now a witness has come forward saying I was the last person to see her alive? It’s the only thing that makes sense. The case is closed.’ Patrick stood and turned his back to DI Thompson, holding his hands out to be cuffed.
‘If you’re going to come willingly, sir, there’s no need for that,’ said DI Thompson. Grace could hear the disbelief in Thompson’s voice at how readily Patrick was admitting to murdering his fiancée, and for her part she couldn’t speak for the shock she was experiencing. All this time Kitt had harboured reservations about Patrick and all this time Grace had defended him. Her gut instinct was to side with Cynthia and say that Patrick just wasn’t capable of this kind of cruelty. Sure, she hadn’t known him long but his manner was that of a gentleman. He’d got defensive that morning but even then he wasn’t gruff and had seemed more wounded than angry. If he’d had memories of hurting Jodie resurface, however, and a witness had seen him with Jodie before he disappeared, what other explanation was there?
‘I’m sorry,’ Patrick said to Grace and Kitt. ‘I hired you because I hoped you’d prove my suspicions wrong but I should have been honest. I did try and confess to you last night.’
‘That’s why you went back to Grace’s dorm room,’ said Kitt, putting together that piece of the puzzle. ‘You were drunk enough to tell the whole truth.’
‘Yeah, I guess I was. I didn’t remember at first – clearly drank way too much at Selina’s party – but today bits and pieces have been coming back to me. You didn’t invite me in to discuss the case, Grace. I came back intending to tell you I thought I was the one who did it. But you weren’t very with it, and then I started to feel really funny and must have passed out. By the time I woke up this morning I’d bottled it, that’s why I got so defensive.’
Grace shook her head. ‘I don’t know what to say.’
What was there to say? If Patrick was a murderer as he professed to be, he clearly didn’t remember even doing it to Jodie. He didn’t remember last night either when Grace had slept in the same bed as him. She shuddered to think what a lucky escape she might have had. What if last night he hadn’t passed out but had turned violent? She probably wouldn’t be here right now. She’d be like Jodie, lost for real and never found.
Grace looked over at Cynthia. The word crestfallen didn’t cover it. Her eyes had hollowed out and her face had become drawn. She shook her head, just gently, refusing to accept that her son could do a thing like this.
‘DI Thompson,’ Kitt said. ‘Before you take Patrick away, you should know that I have reason to believe that Selina Grant drugged both Patrick and Grace at the party they attended last night. Neither of them have a particularly good memory of the night after a certain point.’
‘What does this have to do with the disappearance of Jodie Perkins?’ said Thompson.
‘If Patrick can’t remember much about the night of Jodie’s disappearance, there’s a chance she drugged him then too. And maybe has a part in all this,’ Kitt clarified.
‘Oh yes,’ said Grace. ‘Patrick, this morning you said that you’d only felt like this once before. Was it the night of Jodie’s disappearance?’
‘Yeah, I had the same groggy, slightly sickly feeling and my memory was . . . well, I woke up not remembering anything when the police came to call.’
‘Do you have any evidence to support this accusation against Selina Grant?’ said Thompson.
‘I’ve got the notes from my interview with her and she has a framed picture of Jodie in the bottom drawer of her walk-in wardrobe.’
‘That’s . . . a start but it’s not enough. There’s lots of reasons why someone might keep a framed photograph of a deceased friend, even if they’d had a falling-out.’
‘Agreed, I know the photograph alone isn’t enough but we didn’t get the chance to do a proper search of her room. There might be more we didn’t uncover. Anyway, I can submit what we do have to you in a statement.’
Thompson nodded. ‘If the information pans out we might be able to get a warrant to search Ms Grant’s property but we’d have to be pretty sure of ourselves before going at a family like the Grants.’
‘Given what Kitt and Grace were saying just before you arrived, it’s obvious she’s got something to do with all this and may even be the one behind it,’ said Cynthia. ‘Certainly that makes a lot more sense than my Patrick being a killer. And what about the fact that he might have been drugged?’
‘We can conduct a drugs test,’ said DI Thompson, ‘but if the party was last night that means it’s already been more than twelve hours and as such it might not show anything. A lot of the substances used to spike drinks at parties are out of the system very quickly. It makes it hard to catch. Which of course is why they use them.’
‘Well, you could at least try,’ Cynthia said. ‘And in the meantime, Patrick, don’t say a word until our lawyer arrives. There’s more to this than meets the eye and I’m going to find out what.’
‘Come along, son,’ said DI Thompson, nodding towards the exit.
‘Can I come with you?’ said Cynthia.
‘It’s probably not for the best, madam,’ said Thompson. ‘You won’t be able to see your son while he’s in custody and the chairs in the waiting room aren’t the most comfortable.’
‘I want word the moment he’s released so I can come and collect him,’ said Cynthia. She stood, gave him a kiss on the cheek. ‘Patrick, look at me.’ Patrick obliged. ‘You’re not a killer. We’re going to find out what’s going on here. OK?’
Patrick nodded but it was clear h
e didn’t really believe what Cynthia was saying; that no matter what she said he was convinced of his own guilt.
‘If there’s any news, you’ll receive a call from the station,’ said Thompson, before turning and leading Patrick out of the bar.
Kitt, Cynthia and Grace looked on as Patrick slowly disappeared in the crowds.
Cynthia stepped around the table and slumped back into her seat. Then, without warning, she reached across the table and grabbed Grace and Kitt’s arms. ‘I know I’m his mother and that means my opinion is hardly unbiased but Patrick didn’t do this. I don’t care how much it costs; someone is setting him up and I need you to find out who.’
There was a moment’s silence but when Kitt spoke again her voice was kind, gentle. ‘Cynthia, I know this is a difficult time but I’m afraid all I can promise you is that I’ll continue the investigation. In doing so, I might well be able to rule out your son as a suspect, but I want you to be prepared. If I continue digging on this, there’s a chance I’ll find more evidence of your son’s involvement. Are you sure you want me to keep going?’
‘Yes,’ said Cynthia. ‘You do your job. It’s OK for you to dig. He’s a good boy, my son. He didn’t do this. And I know if you keep investigating, you’ll prove his innocence, I’m sure of it.’
‘What I can’t understand,’ said Grace, ‘is why a witness is only coming forward now. It’s been a year and I know the police put out a fresh appeal when they reopened the case but what’s that witness been doing? Just sitting on that information while Jodie’s been missing presumed dead? Who would do that?’
‘That’s what I’d like to know,’ said Cynthia. ‘It doesn’t make any sense.’
‘Unless you were either too scared to come forward, or were bribed not to come forward,’ said Kitt. ‘I don’t know who the witness is but I think I know someone who might.’
‘Who?’ Grace and Cynthia said in unison.
‘Bertrand Hobbs,’ said Kitt.
‘Oh, yes!’ Grace said. ‘He should be back from his trip tonight.’
‘Who’s Bertrand Hobbs?’ said Cynthia.
‘The DJ at the student radio station who took Jodie’s call the night she disappeared.’
‘Oh,’ said Cynthia. ‘Why would he know anything about the witness?’
‘He’s a journalism student and a woman who calls into his show disappears for ever, what are the odds of him not trying to follow that up himself? Do some digging and see if he can crack the case. It’s basically a story on a plate – if you can crack it,’ said Kitt.
‘So you think he might have done some investigating, got close to something and backed off?’ asked Grace.
‘It’s a possibility, and of course if it was the Grant family he got too close to then we know they would have been able to offer him an incentive to stay quiet – he may even have blackmailed them for keeping his silence,’ said Kitt.
‘I’ll try emailing the student radio station and see if we can set up a meeting with him tomorrow,’ said Grace. ‘I’ll say I’m interested in following in his career footsteps, or something.’
‘Well, call me as soon as you’ve talked to him,’ Cynthia said, standing up from her seat.
‘It won’t be until tomorrow at the earliest now, I’m afraid,’ said Kitt. ‘We’ll need to track him down and arrange a meeting with him.’
‘That’s fine, just as quick as you can. I’ve got to get my lawyer on the phone and see what he can do with Patrick. Honestly, a third-year community justice student and he stands there and confesses to murder in front of a police officer and three witnesses – you do wonder sometimes if academies like Venerable Bede’s are worth the tuition fees.’
Kitt and Grace offered Cynthia a weak smile as she scurried out of the pub, mobile in hand.
‘So,’ Grace said, looking at Kitt. ‘Wanna get drunk?’
Twenty-Two
Kitt and Grace sat on a wall near Durham train station. From there they could see every spire, crenellation and bell tower illuminated by the city’s street lights. Grace was sitting cross-legged and clutching a bottle of gin she’d purchased from a nearby off licence. Was it a good idea to drink the night after you suspected you’d been drugged? Just then, Grace didn’t much care. She needed something after that scene she’d just witnessed. The fresh air between the bar and here had done her some good but the gin was much better at taking the edge off the fact that three days ago she’d locked lips with a murderer – or at least someone who thought himself a murderer. Not to mention the fact that she’d shared a bed with him last night.
Kitt was hanging her legs off the side of the wall – since Patrick’s confession back at the pub, she’d had the good form not to say ‘I told you so.’
‘How could I be so stupid?’ Grace said, tears threatening as she took another gulp of the gin, which she wasn’t used to and stung the back of her throat.
‘You’re not stupid,’ said Kitt. ‘Believing the best in other people is never stupid. If they break your trust that’s on them.’
Grace shook her head and took another gulp of gin.
‘Easy with that, easy,’ Kitt said, taking the bottle off Grace and then having a quick nip herself before putting the cap back on.
‘I suppose you could expect nothing better from a girl as lost as I am. Not a clue what I’m doing, really. I get the feeling I’m supposed to have it all figured out by now and I can’t even tell the difference between a good guy and a bad guy,’ said Grace.
Kitt chuckled. ‘Have it all figured out at twenty-two? Chance would be a fine thing. If you manage it do give me a call and tell me all the answers.’
‘What are you talking about?’ said Grace. ‘You always have the answers. That’s your whole . . . thing. And one of the reasons it’s comforting to hang out with you.’
‘I may seem like I know what to do all the time, but if you think about it I tell you I don’t know the answer quite a bit. Especially during investigations when there are so many variables.’
‘I suppose that’s true,’ said Grace. ‘I never really noticed it before. I just think of you as someone who knows everything.’
‘Nobody knows everything,’ said Kitt. ‘I’ve read a formidable number of books, it’s true. And I’ve studied hard enough to be a respected academic but, as Halloran’s always so fond of telling me, there’s a whole world out there that has nothing to do with books.’
‘So, you don’t have everything figured out?’
‘I don’t believe anybody really does,’ said Kitt. ‘All we can ever do is our best in the moment. You trusted somebody who perhaps didn’t deserve your trust. We’ve all done it and we’ll likely all do it again.’
Grace nodded. If what Kitt was saying was true and other people also had difficulty finding their way in life then maybe there was hope for her after all.
‘The look on his mother’s face when the police took him away,’ Grace said, putting her head in her hands. ‘She’s the one I really feel for. She must be heartbroken.’
‘We don’t know if there’s anything to be heartbroken about yet,’ said Kitt. ‘Just because he doesn’t remember that night doesn’t mean that he was the culprit.’
‘What about the flashes he talked about, the memories?’
‘Grace, Patrick has been through a prolonged trauma. I’m not sure if his mind is as trustworthy as he’d like to believe right now. He’s no doubt suffering tremendous guilt over the disappearance of Jodie, especially if he’s secretly believed all this time that he’s somehow responsible – his mind could be playing tricks on him.’
‘It’s kind of you to float that theory, especially as you’ve thought all along that he might have had something to do with it.’
‘I’ve kept him on the suspect list, yes. But from his demeanour when he was arrested it seems he genuinely doesn’t remember anything from that evening.’
‘Does that make it any less likely that he did it?’
‘It’s not so much his lack of memory
I’m dubious about but the drugging. If a person is drugged it usually makes them happier, more mellow. The idea that someone as measured as he appears would commit an act of violence under the influence of drugs seems unlikely. The real question is, who might have drugged Patrick? If he was at home they would have had to get inside his house somehow.
‘Which suggests that it was either someone he knew or a professional who knew what they were doing.’
‘Whoever they are, they are likely to be the ones really behind Jodie’s disappearance,’ said Grace.
‘Yes, even though Thompson is reluctant to go after the Grants I still think that they’re the most likely people to be able to pull something like this off. Selina’s attitude this afternoon was nothing short of blasé. If you ask me, she thinks she’s untouchable and she’s the only one to have a clear motive.’
‘Selina has been pretty nice to me considering I’m a total stranger so I was reluctant to believe she was really behind it all before, but her being behind it, or her father being behind it, makes a lot more sense than Patrick being the guilty one. Especially given I can’t remember much from Selina’s party.’
‘Well, there is still a possibility that Selina isn’t acting alone and that Patrick had some part to play,’ said Kitt. ‘He could have been lying about the drugs that were found in Jodie’s locker, for example. Maybe they belonged to him or Selina.’
‘Patrick lied to us about his suspicions that he’d had something to do with Jodie’s disappearance and seemed to conveniently forget about Jodie and Selina’s spat, it’s not unthinkable that he might lie about that too.’
‘Again, though, it doesn’t really fit with the way he handed himself over to Thompson. If he was going to confess to murder, confessing to selling drugs would be a minor concern by comparison,’ said Kitt.