by Joy Ellis
‘Oh, I agree. She adored them, idolised them. She would have done anything for them.’
‘Done anything for them?’ Jackman mused. ‘I wonder . . .’
Ella sat up, wide-eyed. ‘You think she killed herself to protect her family?’
‘It’s a possibility, isn’t it?’
‘So the threat of violence or vengeance was directed at them, not her?’ She frowned. ‘But wouldn’t that mean they might still be in danger? If you are dealing with a mental case, what if he isn’t satisfied with just Sarah’s death?’
‘Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.’ In his mind, Jackman was already arranging safe houses and round-the-clock protection for his beloved family. He hastily dragged himself back to reality. ‘I’m pretty sure that it was a personal attack on Sarah. I don’t see that it would do much good to intimidate her family when she’s no longer around.’
‘Sins of the fathers?’ volunteered Ella grimly. ‘It has happened.’
‘I know, but—’
‘You say there was another death locally, very similar to hers?’
He nodded. ‘Beech Lacey are investigating an almost identical case. We will be liaising closely with them.’
‘Was her name Pauline Grover by any chance?’
‘No, it was Suri Forester.’
‘Oh, so not Sarah’s old friend, the one she mentioned accidentally?’
Jackman’s mind clicked into gear. Could that have been Suri’s real name? The one that Cameron Walker was looking for? He glanced at his watch, pulled his phone from his pocket and found Cam’s number.
After he ended the call, he stared at Ella. ‘You are right! The DCI at Beech Lacey has just heard from his sergeant — they have traced Suri Forester back to a change of name by deed poll, from Pauline Grover.’
Ella blinked, and then exhaled. ‘Two teenagers, so terrified they abandon everything and become different people. Phew! That is scary.’
As if willing the hours away, Jackman looked at his watch. ‘First thing I’ll do tomorrow is take a thorough look at the young lives of Heather and Pauline.’
Ella set down her wine glass and leaned towards him. ‘Jackman? Do you think we’re in danger here?’
He hoped he looked reassuring. ‘If I think that for one moment there is the slightest danger to you or any of my family, you will be protected. I promise you that.’
She smiled wryly. ‘Okay, just being a trifle paranoid. It’ll pass. I just couldn’t bear to think of those children having to deal with any more upset while they are still trying to come to terms with their terrible loss.’
To Jackman, such a thing was unthinkable. ‘Tomorrow morning I’ll get the whole team working on this. I was going to anyway, but there is considerably more urgency now. We need to know what happened so long ago, then we can really get to grips with who might be behind this nightmare.’
Ella drained the rest of her wine. ‘I trust you, Jackman. And don’t worry. I’ll keep the children close. And I’ll ask the school to be extra vigilant.’
‘Without scaring the shit out of them.’
‘Naturally. I’ll just explain that until there’s a verdict from the coroner about their mother’s death, it would be prudent to be observant. I’ll talk up our concerns for their general wellbeing.’ She gave a short laugh. ‘I shan’t be telling them we suspect an axe murderer lurking in the climbing frames!’
Jackman laughed, but it faded quickly. They sat in silence. He looked at Ella’s worried face and wondered if her thoughts were as dark as his.
* * *
While Jackman was preparing for bed, Marie was still sitting at her kitchen table, looking at a hot whisky toddy and the copies of the emails sent to Sarah by the man — or woman — who hated her so much.
She had already skimmed through them, but now she went over them slowly, trying to find some clue hidden in the words.
She sipped the warm drink, her mother’s recipe, and wished it could dissipate the chill that the messages brought.
Insidious, threatening and full of menace, they were shocking to read. They mentioned nothing concrete, but all alluded to something the sender knew had happened, for which he blamed Sarah. There were numerous references that sounded biblical: His mischief will descend upon his own head . . . If what you do is evil, be afraid. Another, Time’s glory is to unmask falsehood and bring truth to light seemed more like a literary quote, possibly Shakespeare. She turned the pages, wondering how Sarah must have felt. Did she believe that she was to blame for this thing that had happened? Marie sighed. In the end, the author of this dreadful barrage had got his way. Sarah had paid for what he accused her of.
She read the last message aloud:
O daughter of Babylon, you devastated one, how blessed will be the one who repays you with the recompense with which you have repaid us. How blessed will be the one who seizes and dashes your little ones against the rock.
The paper shook in her hand. Dash your little ones against the rock? She took a long swallow of the fiery whisky. Now she knew why Sarah had so readily thrown herself into the deep waters of the river Thames. The evil bastard had threatened her children.
Marie thought of the other woman. Had it been the same with her? Cam Walker did say she was a mother, didn’t he? Marie swore. She drained the rest of the drink, pulled the papers together, and stood up. She needed to try and sleep. Jackman was back tomorrow, and they had a hell of a lot to talk about.
* * *
The church wasn’t the only place he felt calm. He also liked woods, being sheltered inside a natural cathedral of tall trees with only the sounds of nature around him, but they were hard to find on the fens. Tonight the church was locked, so he chose a point far out on the marsh, a place that few people knew about. It was a miserable spot, bleak and almost impossible to find. With one rough lane in, it was inhospitable and the track to the raised sea bank was overgrown with nettles and brambles. Just below the bank, there was a Second World War pillbox, its pitted walls covered with lichen and its roof with self-seeded couch grass and weeds. If he climbed on top, he could see across to the flat expanse of marsh, and sometimes, if the tide was in, the silvery grey waters of the Wash. Other than the occasional poacher, no one would attempt to come here in the dark. It was why he loved the place, to sit on top of the pill box and see a vast expanse of nothing extending out before him. Out here it was possible to believe in nothing, to forget all loyalties and purpose, other than the impulse to destroy. But he had purpose, he reminded himself. He had loyalty, and he believed. He believed in himself.
The power he felt when those two women jumped was indescribable, immense. Such power he had over them!
He took a deep breath of the air, heavy with salt, held it, and let it out slowly.
He had watched them do it. He had seen the looks on their faces. He had seen them relinquish the strongest impulse of all living beings. Self-preservation.
When you know where love lies, true, selfless love, you can also destroy. That was the source of his power. Love as a lethal weapon. He began to laugh, louder and louder. There was no one to hear.
* * *
It was late when Ella finally got to bed. The boys had been restless, Miles had cried for almost half an hour. She sat with them, listened to their questions, and tried very hard to say the right things, things that would help. She had used the word “dead,” rather than “asleep.” She knew it was important that they appreciated that their mother was never coming back. She thought Ryan understood, but Miles lived in a fantasy world, where the wizard would always wave a wand and restore the hero to life at the very last moment. He had to be made to realise that that didn’t happen in real life.
Ryan had asked, ‘Was Mummy cross with me?’
‘No, sweetheart!’ she said. ‘Your Mummy loved you very much. Why did you think she was angry with you?’
‘Because she was acting funny all week.’ He stared hard at his duvet and refused to look her in the eye.
; ‘How do you mean, funny?’
Finally he looked up at her, pain and bewilderment in his eyes. ‘One minute she was mad at me, then she would hug me so hard I couldn’t breathe. It was really weird.’
‘Adults do act weird sometimes, Ryan. We have a lot to worry about and sometimes we take our worries out on the wrong people. That was most likely it. She told you off, then she was sorry she had so she hugged you.’
He pursed his lips. ‘I suppose.’ Then he brightened. ‘Yes, that would be it, wouldn’t it? I mean, she did say she loved us more than anything in the world.’ Almost immediately he lay down and snuggled into his pillow.
She got ready for bed, thinking how different the two boys were. Ryan was serious and practical. He enjoyed games, he played, but he was calculating and measured in everything he did. In short, he was his father’s son. Miles, on the other hand, was easy-going and fun-loving, gregarious, artistic and full of imagination, just like Sarah.
She had believed that Miles would give the greatest concern, but now she wasn’t so sure. To her knowledge, Ryan hadn’t shed a single tear. He hadn’t had a tantrum, nor did he seem especially sad. Apart from that single question earlier, he just seemed to swallow the whole thing and store it away in his mind. Did that mean he couldn’t deal with it?
She lay in bed and listened in case Miles was still crying. The house was silent. It was good to know that Jackman was just a few doors away. He had tried to ease her worries, but she was good at reading people, and knew Jackman was as concerned as she was. She must remember to tell him what Ryan had said. It added to the supposition that Sarah had done what she did to protect her children. It was a terrifying thought.
Ella turned on her side and lay awake, her eyes open in the dark.
CHAPTER TWELVE
That morning’s meeting went on for almost three-quarters of an hour until Jackman finally wrapped it up and delegated the tasks for the day.
‘So, Rosie, you are our contact with Beech Lacey. I want you to work closely with their liaison officer, DC Darren Smith. Make sure nothing gets overlooked. Every new piece of info that comes our way is passed directly to them, and vice versa. Okay?’
DC Rosie McElderry nodded enthusiastically. She had a quick brain, and this job would be a refreshing change for her. ‘Great, sir. I’ll ring Darren and we’ll set up a system.’
‘Good. Now,’ he looked around, ‘Charlie, I want you and Gary to concentrate on identifying our John Doe. We’re certain there is a connection to Sarah, but until we have an ID we are dancing in the dark.’ He handed him Rory’s pathology report. ‘Professor Wilkinson now thinks he has a way to identify him through dental implants, so chase him up on that. Find out who this man is — and fast.’
Jackman turned to Robbie and Max. ‘You two are going to concentrate on the time when the two women took the names Sarah Woodman and Suri Forester. It won’t be easy but, Max, you should tie up with Orac on this.’
Max’s eyes widened and he grinned. ‘Gotcha, boss! I’m on it.’
‘I bet you are!’ Rosie flashed him a warning glance. She had been Max’s girlfriend for the past year.
‘Marie, you and I will continue this conversation in my office. There are some loose ends to tie up, and then we’ll start to dissect my sister-in-law’s early life and find out all we can about her friend, Suri Forester. Okay, guys. To work! And I expect something for the four o’clock meeting.’
* * *
Marie closed the office door behind her. She had already told Jackman about her suspicion that someone had been with Sarah when she died. Jackman had looked at the CCTV footage again and his face had spoken volumes. It wasn’t absolutely certain, but there was a good chance Sarah was looking at someone standing behind her.
Jackman was reading through his emails. He gave a sigh of relief. ‘The inquest has been opened and adjourned.’
Marie smiled. ‘As we hoped, but it’s good to hear it from the horse’s mouth.’
‘I think we have Rory to thank for that. The coroner established identity and the fact that the cause of death was drowning, but following the pathologist’s report, he adjourned to await the forensic and full toxicology reports. He also commented that the police had advised further investigation, so the verdict will wait, pending the results of their inquiries.’
‘Great. We have a bit of leeway.’ Marie looked at him. ‘Okay, sir, what’s the problem?’
He sighed. ‘Ruth Crooke. The super’s not certain that I’ll be able to maintain a professional attitude. She’s worried about a possible conflict of interest because Sarah is, sorry, was, my sister-in-law. I’ve assured her that we were never close, and pointed out that the reason for that was my commitment to my career, but she’s considering asking me to stand down and let someone else take over.’
Marie groaned. ‘Oh hell! How do you feel about that little bombshell?’
‘Sodding-well pissed off!’ Marie almost smiled. Jackman very rarely swore.
‘Can I help at all? I can speak to Ruth, if you like. She and I get on pretty well after that case involving her niece. I’ve even learned to let the heavy sarcasm go over my head.’
‘I have to keep hold of this case. I have to.’ Jackman sat back and folded his arms.
Marie didn’t say it, but she could see Ruth’s point. It was too close to home. What if the man behind it all decided to target other members of Jackman’s family? There was no way he could remain in charge if that happened. ‘How long has she given you?’
‘Today. That’s all. Just today.’ Jackman looked desperate. ‘I’ve got to see her first thing tomorrow with a full report on where we are. She’ll decide then.’
‘So we need to buckle down and get some answers. You know Ruth, sir, she’ll not do it lightly. If we can show her something within twenty-four hours, I’m sure she’ll let you run with it. So come on, give me some work to do instead of fretting over something that might never happen.’
Jackman straightened up. ‘You’re right, Marie. Sorry about that.’ He gave her a tired smile. ‘Not enough sleep last night. In fact, practically no sleep at all.’
Marie smiled back. ‘Same here. Orac said she would stay late at work until she found the connection between Sarah and her friend Suri. I’ve been wondering all night what those two teenagers might have been involved in.’
‘Right. Well, I thought you should trawl through police reports of serious crimes from the time just preceding Sarah’s change of name.’
‘And look for cases that involved fifteen- to sixteen-year-old girls?’
‘Yes, and not just as possible witnesses. It hurts me to say this, but check anything that has them as victims or even perpetrators. If someone wants retribution, it could be because of something they did, rather than what they saw or suffered. I can’t believe that of Sarah, but we have to consider the possibility.’
‘Absolutely, sir. And an open mind will be exactly what Ruth will be watching out for.’
‘I had thought about that myself,’ Jackman said smugly. ‘I’m conducting a fair investigation but also covering my back.’
‘Good. And so you should. Sir, was Sarah a local?’
‘Hard to say, although she did have the accent. Not too pronounced, but I’d say it was natural and not acquired.’
‘Narrows my search somewhat. So what will you be doing?’
‘Trying to trace anything I can about Sarah when she was Heather Miller — birth certificate, christening, school records, health and hospital notes, anything to give us an idea of who she was before she became Sarah. Cam Walker is doing exactly the same with regard to Pauline Grover. The moment either of us sources something, our carrier pigeons, Rosie and Darren, will pass it over.’
‘Neat. So, let’s get to work. I hate to say it, but the clock is ticking.’
* * *
Just after eleven, Charlie almost fell into Jackman’s office. ‘We’ve got him, sir! Our John Doe’s got a name.’
‘Good lad!’ Jackman
hadn’t expected a result so soon.
‘You’d better thank Prof Wilkinson, sir. He found us the dentist who fitted the implants, and all we did was contact them and get his details. The dead man’s name is Bernard Seaton, and he lived out Harlan Marsh way. Gary and Kevin Stoner are on their way there right now.’
‘Excellent. Tell them to come directly to me when they return.’
‘Will do, sir.’
Charlie hurried back to his desk to begin checking Bernard Seaton’s background.
Jackman returned to his work with a little more enthusiasm. At least the swift identification of the dead man would earn him a few brownie points with the superintendent. If they could add another step forward, she might rethink her plan to remove him.
He stared at the screen. Just how many million Heather Millers were there were in the world? He cancelled the search and went on to check school records. If he knew where she came from it would help, but right now it was pretty random. He hoped that Marie and Robbie were having more luck than he was.
* * *
‘I hate coming back to this area.’ Gary Pritchard’s voice was uncharacteristically sombre.
‘But you lived here for years, didn’t you, Gary?’ asked Kevin.
‘I did, but apart from my sister and my lovely dogs, it wasn’t a happy place.’
‘Oh, yes, I forgot. Harlan Marsh was where they found all those bod—’
‘Let’s not go there, Kev. It’s too painful.’
‘Sorry, mate. That was a very bad case, wasn’t it? I wasn’t thinking.’ Kevin changed the subject. ‘Do you know the address we’re looking for?’
Gary gazed across the miles of flat fields, mostly full of kale, sprouts and various kinds of cabbage. ‘I know the entrance to the lane, but in all honesty, I’ve only ever been down there once. It goes nowhere. It’s one of those strange roads that curves around the fen for miles, and then ends in an overgrown turning place with nothing but farmland as far as the eye can see.’
Kevin stared at the silent satnav. ‘So, we are looking for a house called Marlins. And it looks like we are on our own with finding it.’