THE GUILTY ONES a gripping crime thriller filled with stunning twists

by Joy Ellis

  ‘Ella the scene-of-crime officer?’

  ‘That’s right. She was a really close friend to Sarah, so just maybe she knows something that we don’t.’

  ‘I tell you what,’ said Marie, ‘she could help you look for anything suspicious. She was hot shit with crime scenes, wasn’t she?’

  ‘She certainly had an eye for detail, and she has a logical, enquiring mind, so yes, you’re right, Marie. I’ll speak to her as soon as I get home.’

  She hesitated. ‘Hate to ask, but when do you think you’ll be back?’

  Jackman puffed out his cheeks. ‘Not too long, I hope. I need to talk it over with Ruth Crooke. Now that we know the children will be cared for, some of the pressure is off. Mum and Dad are doing their best with James, so as long as I’m on call for any emergencies, I guess we’re looking at early next week.’

  ‘Well, don’t worry about it, we are keeping our heads above water. It will just be nice to have you back. It doesn’t seem right here without you.’

  Jackman shivered. ‘And I’m like a fish out of water with all this high-emotion stuff. It’s like a bad dream you can’t wake up from. Other people’s problems I can handle, but this is horrible. My own brother in meltdown and those two poor little lads.’ He shook his head and looked around the book-lined walls of his office. ‘I belong here, Marie. Doing my job.’

  ‘I know you do,’ said Marie softly. ‘But right now you need to do your job by finding out what happened to your sister-in-law.’ She paused in the doorway. ‘Do you really believe that someone drove her to kill herself?’

  ‘Without a doubt, Marie. I have no idea why, but I’m certain there was something very dark going on in Sarah’s life.’

  ‘Then just tell me what you want me to do, and I’ll do it, okay?’

  ‘Wilco, Sergeant.’ Jackman smiled. ‘I’ll be in touch.’

  CHAPTER SIX

  The church was empty. He stepped down the central aisle, careful to avoid treading on the memorial stones set into the ornately tiled floor. His footsteps echoed in the silence. He always felt calm in the company of saints and martyrs, even if they were just statues. He looked at each one of the fourteen Stations of the Cross and considered Christ’s last day on earth as a man. The Way of Sorrows. Via Crucis. Via Dolorosa. He liked the words. He understood suffering.

  At the bottom of the nave he sat down in one of the carved wooden pews and stared through the sanctuary to the altar. This was the only area of the church that was heavily ornate. A central golden crucifix hung high on the wall and below it three exquisite paintings, a triptych showing Mary and the infant Jesus, with angels either side. It soothed him to look at them, and this intrigued him, as he wasn’t a Catholic. In fact, he wasn’t religious at all, but something in the utter certainty of the belief he saw all around him resonated deep inside. The pictures, the stained-glass windows, the ornate statues and soaring, vaulted ceiling embossed with gold and painted plaques, were all evidence of lofty principles and unshakable faith.

  He sighed. He felt safe in here, as if the moment he dipped his finger into the Holy Water in the stoup, his mind was cleansed of all fear. The smell of incense filled the church, stilling his thoughts and slowing his pounding heart. It was sad to think that outside, beyond the heavy wooden door, lay chaos and lawlessness. He longed to carry this peace with him when he left, but he knew it wasn’t possible. He could, however, right some wrongs. He could redress a few terrible mistakes that had been made in the name of so-called justice. After all, the guilty should never go unpunished, and if the system wasn’t able to do the job, then it was up to those that were to show them the error of their ways. Irreligious as he was, he recalled a verse from Proverbs that had somehow lodged in a corner of his memory:

  Who so diggeth a pit will fall into it, and whoever rolls a stone . . . it will come back on him.

  He appreciated the Old Testament doctrine of retribution. He too believed in an eye for an eye. Sometimes God, if indeed he existed, needed a little help.

  He closed his eyes and breathed in the silence. It was time to arrange for another pit to be dug.

  * * *

  ‘Professor Wilkinson is in London today. I’m Lisa Forbes. I was called out to look at your vagrant.’ She sounded young for a forensic pathologist, but Marie noticed that was happening a lot recently. Expert witnesses, CEOs of big organisations, professors and consultants were all starting to look like school leavers to her.

  ‘Thank you so much. Can you give me a preliminary briefing over the phone, or should I come and see you?’ Marie hoped that the latter wouldn’t be the case.

  ‘I can’t tell you much yet, but it’s not exactly an open and shut case, Sergeant Evans, if you’ll pardon the pun. You were right to suspect foul play — that’s what I really wanted you to know. And contrary to appearances, he is certainly not a rough sleeper.’

  Nice one, Max. ‘Any idea of time of death?’ Marie asked.

  ‘Preliminary guess only, around two hours prior to your finding him. Rigor mortis had hardly set in, although it was detectable in the small muscles in the face and neck. Lividity had just started to appear, so yes, a couple of hours, which would make it around 7 a.m., give or take.’

  Marie quite missed Rory’s usual quirky reluctance to yield up the time of death, but on this occasion it did speed things up.

  ‘Thank you, that’s much appreciated. Was the slash on his wrist the cause of death?’

  Lisa Forbes hesitated. ‘I need to do a full examination before I comment. I’ll send my preliminary report through as soon as I’ve completed the autopsy.’

  And that was all she was going to get. No veiled suggestions of evil doings, no cryptic hints about medical enigmas. Yes, she certainly missed Rory Wilkinson’s take on post-mortem news. Still, she now knew they were right to be suspicious, which meant they had a murder on their hands, and the timing wasn’t perfect considering Jackman’s personal investigation. With a grunt, she went off to find DI Pete Lawrence. With a bit of grovelling, there was a good chance that Pete would shoulder the rest of the fraud case, and that would make life considerably more manageable. Whatever happened, no way was she going to let Jackman down when he needed her, and apart from that, Sarah Jackman’s death was occupying a lot of her waking thoughts, and a good few of her sleeping ones too. For some reason she had a really bad feeling about what had happened to Jackman’s sister-in-law, and she was becoming as obsessed with it as Jackman himself.

  * * *

  When Jackman arrived at Rainham Lodge, he saw his mother’s car parked there, and a white Honda Jazz that he was pretty sure belonged to Ella Jarvis.

  He found them in the lounge, deciding on the strategy for the coming days.

  ‘Rowan! Come in, darling.’ His mother greeted him with a tired smile and patted the sofa next to her. ‘Ella’s moving in first thing tomorrow. She’s going to have the guest bedroom nearest to the boys’ room.’

  Jackman went up to Ella with his hand outstretched. ‘I can’t tell you how grateful we all are for what you are doing.’

  Ella shook his hand and shrugged. ‘It’s no big deal, honestly. I want to help. Sarah would have done the same for me.’

  Ella was tall with long pale blonde hair, and Jackman was pretty sure it wasn’t dyed. She had blue-grey eyes and well-defined features. It made a change not to see her in a forensic protective suit and mask. He guessed that, like him, she was in her mid-thirties. She exuded a sporty kind of strength.

  ‘I was wondering,’ said Jackman, ‘if you would like to talk to our force psychologist — about handling bereaved children, that is. She’s really approachable and I’m very aware that you are taking on a tough assignment here.’

  Ella smiled but then sighed. ‘No need, sir. Sadly I’ve been there before, with my half-brother when he was young. I think the most important thing to remember is to be honest. Talk to them in simple language and make sure they really understand what you are saying.’

  ‘Ah, it sounds
like you know what you’re doing.’ He looked apologetically at her. ‘I didn’t mean to suggest you aren’t competent, I just know this isn’t going to be easy. And I’m not “sir” anymore, Ella, everyone calls me Jackman, except my mother.’

  ‘Okay.’ She smiled at him, and he could see why the boys liked her so much. Her open face radiated honesty, and that was a very good thing in Jackman’s book.

  His mother looked up at him. ‘We’re going over to the boys’ school in a few minutes, Rowan. We have an appointment with the school counsellor. The boys miss their friends and are anxious to get back,’ she tilted her head slightly, ‘and James isn’t up to it, but Ella has kindly offered to come along.’

  ‘Want me to come too?’

  ‘No, we are just going to let them know exactly what’s happened and how much we have told the boys. Then they are going to tell us how to prepare Ryan and Miles for the kind of comments they might encounter from their friends.’

  Ella nodded. ‘They need to have a few stock responses ready. Other kids can be hurtful when they don’t understand properly. Their form teachers have said that they will have a quiet chat with their closest friends and classmates and stress the importance of being kind at a time like this.’

  ‘Looks like you two have everything in hand. I’ll use the time while you’re away to make a thorough search of the house, just in case there’s something here that might explain things more clearly.’

  Ella’s fleeting glance was full of curiosity, and he knew Marie had been right. She had a keen nose for things not being as they should.

  ‘Can you give me a couple of moments, dear?’ his mother said to Ella, ‘I have a phone call to make and I need to check with my husband that James is okay. I won’t be long.’ She left the room.

  ‘Do you understand any of this?’ Ella pre-empted Jackman’s words.

  ‘Absolutely not.’ He threw up his hands. ‘Nothing makes sense. What about you?’

  ‘The last time I saw her I knew something was wrong, but she refused to say what it was.’ Ella nibbled on her bottom lip. ‘I thought it might be a problem between her and James, but she laughed at the idea, and I could see she meant it. She said she was happier with James and her sons than she had ever dreamed she could be.’ Ella exhaled. ‘She really did mean it, I know she did.’

  ‘And then she killed herself?’

  Ella looked at him. ‘Was that really the case?’

  ‘She was recorded on CCTV. I’ve seen the footage, Ella. She threw herself into the river. I couldn’t quite believe what I was seeing, but there is no doubt at all that it was a deliberate action.’ Jackman leaned forward. ‘Will you help me, Ella? I have to find the truth. We cannot allow this to be passed off as some mental aberration. We need to know why Sarah died.’

  Ella pursed her lips. ‘Children see things. They notice things, even if they don’t understand them. I’ll be talking to them a lot over the coming weeks. I’ll tell you if anything sets off alarm bells.’

  He nodded. ‘Thank you, and keep your eyes open too. Apart from her work, she lived for Rainham Lodge and her family. Something might draw your attention, or someone might mention something, if you know what I mean?’

  ‘I want to know what happened too, so of course I’ll stay vigilant. And I’ll contact you if anything worries me.’

  Jackman reached into his pocket and took out his personal card. ‘Day or night, Ella, okay?’

  ‘Ready when you are.’ Harriet Jackman stood in the doorway.

  Ella stood up. ‘Nice to see you again, si— er, Jackman. I just wish the circumstances were different.’

  ‘Ring me if you need a hand with Miles and Ryan. I’m not sure that you will get too much support from my brother, but just shout if you need a man’s assistance with anything.’

  After the door closed behind them, Jackman looked around the big house and wondered where on earth to begin.

  It was on his mind that her smartphone hadn’t been recovered. There was a strong possibility that it was somewhere on the bottom of the Thames, but the clothes she had been wearing had no deep pockets, so maybe the phone was somewhere around the house, like her bag and her laptop.

  ‘Right,’ he said aloud. ‘Come on, Jackman, use police search procedure and don’t waste precious time.’

  He ran up the stairs and into James and Sarah’s bedroom. He had his brother’s permission to look for whatever he wanted. And what he wanted was to know why his brother was a widower and his young nephews were facing a future without their mother.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Marie yawned. It was time to go home, but she felt restless, as if she hadn’t done enough to warrant shutting up shop for the night.

  ‘Something bothering you, Sarge?’ Robbie called over to her.

  ‘Dead men dressed as vagrants for a start,’ she said. ‘Why does nothing make sense these days?’

  ‘Mmm. Considering what happened with the boss’s sister-in-law, I’ll agree with you there.’

  ‘I was just wondering if we might hear any more from forensics tonight. We need to identify our faux tramp.’ While she was speaking, the phone rang and Marie snatched it up. She was surprised to hear Orac, the IT boss.

  ‘Marie? You can tell that gorgeous DI of yours that I’ve indeed worked miracles on that massacred laptop he so kindly sent me. But I don’t think he’s going to like the contents of her inbox.’

  Marie took a breath. ‘There’s something incriminating on it?’

  ‘Someone didn’t like Sarah Jackman, not one little bit.’

  Marie jumped up. ‘Thanks, Orac. I’m on my way down.’ She put down the receiver. ‘You get off home, Robbie. I could be a while. I’ll see you tomorrow.’

  ‘Can’t I come with you? That woman fascinates me.’ He grinned broadly.

  ‘Not tonight. She might not have eaten, and she has a voracious appetite. You’d be the perfect snack.’

  ‘She eats detectives?’

  ‘Regularly.’ She hurried out of the office, calling back, ‘And never go down there after dark!’

  Orac was sitting in front of a bank of screens. ‘Come in, Marie. Have a seat.’ She indicated an office chair close to hers. ‘This isn’t very nice, I’m afraid. I’m just sorry that you have to pass it on to Jackman when he must be feeling pretty shitty already.’

  Marie sat down. ‘He’ll be relieved I think. He swears she would never have acted as she did without provocation.’

  ‘I think he’s right.’ Marie looked into those strange metallic-looking eyes. She knew that Orac had been blinded in one eye in an attempt on her life, and she wore the contact lenses to hide the damage.

  ‘I’ve printed off all the stuff from this person, and I’ve also looked through a whole load of deleted files and found a few drafts that might be connected in some way.’

  ‘I don’t suppose there’s a contact name or address on these emails?’ Marie didn’t hold out too much hope on that one, but had to ask.

  ‘No, he moved around. I might be able to trace it, but there are some pretty sophisticated methods in use these days. Not that I’ll give up on it. You know me.’

  Marie smiled. ‘Oh, I do. If anyone can find the sender, it’s the woman right beside me.’

  Orac smiled. ‘How is Jackman taking it all?’

  Marie sighed. ‘It’s the children. That’s what hurts him the most.’

  ‘Oh, it’s always the children,’ Orac said softly.

  Marie had never heard the person she privately thought of as cyber-woman speak with so much feeling.

  Orac gazed into her screen. ‘One night, my sister was stolen from her bed. She was three years old, and we never saw her again. It devastated the village where my family lived. Nothing was ever the same, not for us, nor anyone else. Men looked with suspicion at men they had lived and worked with since they were bairns. Brothers suspected brothers. And we never had an answer. A blight entered our home that night and destroyed everything good for miles around.’

>   Marie was silent, so shocked she could find nothing to say. For a fleeting moment she wondered why this intensely private woman chose to open up to her. What was it about her that brought forth these deeply personal revelations? She shivered.

  ‘Sorry. I don’t know why I told you all that. Ancient history now, but it still hurts, as you can tell.’

  ‘I’m so sorry. I’m not sure how you live through something like that.’

  ‘It’s what we humans do. Survive. Like you when you lost your Bill, we find ways of dealing with things. Well, most of us do, but some don’t. Like Sarah Jackman.’ She passed Marie a sheaf of printouts. ‘Something happened in Sarah’s past, something terrible. And whatever it was, this anonymous person wanted Sarah to account for it in some way. Read them, see what you make of it, but I’m pretty sure this man, and I’m certain it is a man, wanted retribution for something.’

  Marie stared at the paperwork thoughtfully. ‘So, we need to find out all we can about Sarah’s past. The thing is, is it something she told her husband about, or did she keep it to herself?’

  ‘I’d go with the latter. Our self-styled judge and executioner seems to have been forcing her to revisit a very dark time in her life.’ Orac sat back. ‘Or he could be a messed up screwball and all these accusations are a complete fabrication, and sweet Sarah could neither understand nor cope with them.’

  Marie glanced down at the messages. Some seemed to be almost biblical in their wording, others were just accusations. All of them seemed to be demanding justice. But for what?

  ‘Good luck, and I’ll try to track your sender.’ Orac looked at her. ‘I don’t like people who threaten others, do you?’

  ‘Especially not one who has the power to make a woman abandon her children.’ Marie set her jaw. She was glad that she had something definite to give to Jackman, something that would confirm his theories, but she was afraid too. Exactly what was lurking out there? Just what had crept back from the murky depths of Sarah’s secret past?