by Adam Carter
“We’re looking for a man named David Straw,” Barden said instead. “Do you know the name?”
Flax shook his head, thinking.
“How about Sean Mullin?”
“No. Sorry.” He paused. “But I caught Jodie talking to a guy the other day. I made a joke of it, like I was jealous, but she got defensive so I had to tell her I was only kidding. Anyone could see I was kidding, but she was wound up tight about it.”
“What did he look like?”
“Uh, tall, skinny. Could have done with a haircut about six years ago.”
That, Barden decided, was David Straw. “What were they talking about?”
“I don’t know. She got rid of him when they saw me. Was he the one who killed John?”
“We don’t know, but we’d certainly like to ask him.”
Flax looked from Barden to Lees and back again. “Wait a … You think Jodie had something to do with this, don’t you? You think Jodie and this guy killed him?”
“I never said he was murdered.”
“So you’ve just come around to let her know the sad news? I don’t think so.”
“Why’s that, Mr Flax?”
“Because you wouldn’t have told me he was dead in such a deadpan tone.”
“Oh, it would surprise you how deadpan I can be, Mr Flax.”
“When did you last see Jodie?” Lees asked, the first thing she had said since talking to Flax. Barden had been wondering when she would pluck up enough courage to say something.
“This morning.”
“And where is she now?”
“I don’t know. She was supposed to be here, but she’s not.”
Barden toyed with the idea of telling him Jodie was behind it all, just to see what reaction he would get. Instead he asked, “Could she be at work?”
“That’s where she’s come from, yeah. But she should have finished a couple of hours ago.”
Barden had a horrible feeling Mullin may have been on that train after all, and that he had not been alone. But it always paid to check these things. “Give us the address of where she works. And if she comes home, let me know immediately.”
Flax gave them the address and Barden gave him his number before he and Lees departed. He had believed Flax, but that only meant his fiancée was more manipulative than any of them suspected.
When they arrived at Jodie’s workplace, they received the answer Barden had pretty much expected.
“Jodie?” the woman at the office reception said when Barden flashed his identification. “She left ages ago.”
“Did she seem tense or anything?”
“No more than usual. She’s getting married; that’s enough to stress anyone. Mind you, all that shouting’s not good for her, either.”
“Shouting?”
“With her fiancé. You know, I’ve never actually met him, but he’s nothing like she described.”
Barden desperately tried not to let his excitement show. “And they argue a lot?”
“I wouldn’t know. First time I saw him was today. But they were outside screaming about something. I think he dropped by to offer her a lift and she didn’t like it. Still went with him, though.”
“Mr Flax drove by to pick her up?”
“That’s right.”
Mr Flax, who could not drive.
“Describe him to me.”
The receptionist shook her head like a disregarding gossip. “Too thin for one thing, and what’s with that mop of hair? If I was marrying him, he’d be shearing that off before the big day, let me tell you.”
“Thank you for your time,” Barden said. “Constable, back to the car please.”
They did not speak until they were driving once more. Barden had not known how useful speaking to the receptionist would have been, but some of his theories were turning on their heads even as he thought them.
“You don’t seem too unhappy by what we didn’t find out,” Lees said. “Jodie and Straw seem to have had an argument about something, but it didn’t stop her going off with him though.”
“You’re letting your anger cloud your judgement here, Carrie.”
“What are you, a Zen master?”
“Straw didn’t just drop by to cause her grief. Jodie Appleton’s been kidnapped.”
Lees was shocked enough to confirm Barden’s suspicions that she had not worked that out for herself. “Then I reckon she’s going to be the next one to turn up dead.”
“Maybe, maybe not. Straw’s many things, but he’s not stupid.”
“What are you getting at?”
“Let’s assume for a moment it was Straw who killed Tanner. Somewhere along the way he stabbed the guy, but no one saw him do it. That tells us he’s sneaky, that he didn’t want to be caught.”
“I think that goes for most killers.”
“Then he attacks Jennifer Appleton. Again, no witnesses. If he was going to target Jodie, why wait outside her work, then have a blazing row for everyone to see?”
“You’re saying he didn’t come here to kill her?”
“I think he came to talk. If she did indeed hire him to kill Tanner, perhaps he wasn’t happy he was being stiffed on the pay. Mullin said he was paid pittance, and maybe Straw just wasn’t the type of guy to take that lying down.”
“So we’re believing Mullin’s word on this?”
“Until I have a signed confession I’m not believing anything, but I’m not about to throw out any intelligence, either. Villains panic, Carrie. It’s one of the things every detective learns very quickly. And when they panic, they turn on each other. Mullin’s out of it now, so that leaves only Straw and Jodie. I can imagine wherever they are right now, they’re having a whopper of an argument.”
“So we should just follow the sounds of shouting?”
“There’s not much we can do to find her unless Straw makes a mistake. Sooner or later he will, so it all depends whether any more bodies have turned up by that point.”
A sound filled the car and for a single moment Barden was going to tell Lees not to even answer it if it was Harry. Then he realised it was his own phone so pulled over as he dug it out of his pocket.
“Detective Barden,” he said.
“Detective, this is Morgan Flax.”
“What can I do for you, Mr Flax?” Barden tried not to sound tired, but he had not given Flax his phone number so the guy could call him every two minutes with questions about the investigation.
“I’m still in two minds about doing this, but … but you said Jodie might be in danger so I figured I’d trust you.”
“Has she contacted you?”
“No. But I’m still in my apartment and I’m looking out the window. She’s downstairs, getting out of someone’s car. He looks like a scarecrow or something, and I don’t like the way he’s holding her wrist.”
“Because they seem close or because it looks like he’s kidnapped her?”
“Yes.”
“Well which, man?”
“Detective, what’s going on?”
“I’ll explain when I get there. Don’t do anything stupid and don’t tell them you’ve contacted me. Just let them in, keep them talking and wait.”
“Detective, I …”
“Listen. This is our prime suspect in the death of John Tanner. So, in answer to your earlier question, yes: I think your fiancée is very much in danger. Now, do what I told you and we’ll be there to sort this mess out.”
He hung up and pulled back onto the road. He knew Lees would probably have preferred that he answered the phone while driving, but he wasn’t about to kill someone while on his way to save someone else. He was waiting so long for the comment to come that he glanced her way.
“No argument from me,” she said.
Which meant he had been entirely right. If only he could read everyone so easily. If that was the case, he would have had this entire mess solved long ago.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Becoming a detective meant a lot to Caroline Le
es. It had been her goal for some years now and she had worked with it constantly in the back of her mind. When she had failed her detective’s exam, she had taken some consolation in the fact it wasn’t the end of the world. She could one day try again, and in the meantime she had a reasonably good life. Harry had been supportive, in his own way, and Lees had come to the conclusion life could have been worse.
Now she had all but thrown her career on the scrapheap because she had stuck by her man; only to find out he had hardly been worth the effort. She had lost Harry and she had probably lost her job; and all because she could not see what was staring her right in the face.
Lees had reached a decision: she would have made a poor detective.
As they raced back to Flax’s apartment, all Lees was trying to concentrate on was the chance of doing the right thing before the end. She could not redeem herself, not enough to save any of her life anyway, but if she could put away a murderer she could at least finish on a high.
What she would do with her life afterwards was something she could think about later. If she was lucky – miracle-lucky – Barden might even support her somehow. Buy her a loaf of bread when she was starving, or something.
“The focus here is on saving lives,” Barden told her.
“What? I didn’t say anything.”
“No, but you were thinking it. I can see it written all over your face.”
“The man who has to pull over to make a phone call is watching my face while he’s driving?”
“Carrie, I’m worried about you. I’m worried you’re going to do something stupid.”
“You mean leap in front of a bullet to prove my dedication to the job?”
“Something like that, yes.”
“There’s no heroine in me, Ray. And I’ll take a hair follicle test to prove it.”
They arrived at the apartment, but Barden was not foolish enough to pull up where Straw could see him. Lees had called for backup, but there was no sign of it so they decided to go alone. They had no idea how Straw was armed, but thus far there had been no indication of firearms. Certainly the man who murdered Tanner had a knife, and at that moment Lees would have placed good money on that someone being David Straw.
Barden raced ahead of her with far more stamina than Lees had ever possessed and it annoyed her somewhat that he was ten years her elder yet far fitter. He was not even breathing hard when they reached the door to Flax’s home, while Lees was certain Straw would have been able to hear her own pounding heart as though it was her fist hammering on the door.
“You really do need to cut down on the pies, Carrie,” Barden told her.
“A joke about my weight,” she wheezed. “My bad day is complete.”
They stopped at the door and listened, but could hear very little. Certainly there were voices coming from within, but there did not seem to be an argument, so they could not hear specific words. For all Lees knew, Straw, Flax and Jodie were all in this together and they were sitting inside having a nice cup of tea.
If they could have been certain the first strike would break down the door, they would have just kicked the thing and stormed in. However, bashing away at the door and not getting anywhere would have been the worst thing they could have done, so instead Barden did what Lees expected him to. He knocked on the door.
The voices within stopped, but only for a moment. They returned, frantic now, and Lees tensed as she heard someone approach the door. As it opened, Barden did not seem to be tensing himself to attack, so Lees tried to relax a little herself. It did not open far and the harrowed face of Morgan Flax appeared in the crack.
“Is Victoria in?” Barden asked loudly.
Flax now looked confused as well as terrified. “Vic … Who?”
“Sorry,” Barden said. “This is twenty-seven, I wanted thirty-seven. My mistake.” Then he produced a credit card and held it up to the lock. As Flax closed the door, the latch caught on the card, preventing it from locking. Lees could not believe Barden had used a credit card like that. For one thing, it was one of those weird things which turned up on television, but mainly she couldn’t believe it because she reckoned it would probably scratch his card. She certainly wouldn’t be ruining her own property in the line of duty. If the police wanted her to use her credit card as a tool, they should be issuing their own cards for that; and while they were doing it they could offer good interest rates.
Barden waited for the voices to return to normal, for Flax to convince Straw that the man at the door had gone to the wrong flat. It was something Lees had not thought of trying.
Slowly, Barden pushed the door. No commotion sounded from within and when Barden got the door open by several inches, Lees was able to peer through. Several metres away, she could see three figures. One was Morgan Flax, sitting on a chair and looking scared and frustrated that he wasn’t being believed. A woman Lees assumed to be Jodie Appleton was standing beside him, her hands by her sides, her fists trembling. She was angry, but far less fearful than Lees would have expected from the victim of a kidnap. The third man was David Straw: she would have recognised that scarecrow mess anywhere. He was also on his feet, waving his arms around theatrically, but did not appear armed.
Lees produced her police baton and flicked it so the metal length extended. Nodding to Barden, she prepared herself to run. Holding up fingers, Barden counted silently down from three, then threw open the door.
Lees shot into the room, shouting for Straw to get on the floor. It was designed to startle him, to make him hesitate and not place the hostages in danger. Lees was upon him before the man could even blink, her baton slamming into the back of his legs and forcing him to the floor. Grabbing his arms, she thrust them behind his back and shoved him forward so his face struck the settee and stayed there.
“Nicely done,” Barden commented. “Mr Flax, Miss Appleton, are you hurt?”
“No,” Flax said. “Who is he? Who is this man?” He was asking both Barden and his fiancée, knowing they both had the answer and wanting the answers to match.
Barden ignored him. “Your arrest I think, Constable.”
Lees pulled Straw back to his feet. “David Straw, I’m arresting you for murder. You do not have to …”
“Murder?” Flax exploded. “So he did kill John?”
“Nasty business,” Barden said. “Perhaps you’d like to stay here and leave us to it.”
Lees tried not to smile. She knew what was coming and could see Barden was perhaps even enjoying it. Their case would only close with a confession and prosecution, but at least now they had some bodies to throw into a cell.
“Your arrest, Detective,” she said.
“Jodie Appleton,” Barden said, “I’m arresting you for murder. You do not have to …”
“What?” Flax said, making Lees wonder whether he intended to let anyone finish a sentence. “Murder? John? This is about John?”
“I didn’t kill anyone,” Jodie said fearfully. “I didn’t do anything.”
“Back at the station,” Barden said, “would be preferable.”
“I didn’t tell them to kill anyone,” Jodie said anyway. “Just throw him in the river. He was no good for Jenny, everyone could see that. I wanted him to get into a fight, to show her how violent he could be. I wanted him thrown in the river; I never told them to stab him.”
Lees could see Barden was not happy with all of this coming out in the flat, but she had long ago learned that the truth came out whenever it wanted to. And it was better hearing it in the flat than never.
“So,” Lees said, “why did you stab him, Straw?”
“I didn’t. It was Sean. Sean stabbed him because Tanner scared him and made him run away. He didn’t like being made a fool of, so he went back to the river and found Tanner climbing out.”
So it was Mullin, Lees thought with a shudder. Which meant it was all her fault after all. She had Mullin in her house and she had let the man go. Then Mullin had gone on to kill Jennifer Appleton. If she had arrested M
ullin when she had him in her house, Jennifer Appleton would still be alive.
“We’re still arresting you both for murder,” Barden said. “I’m not saying I don’t believe you, but I don’t believe you. Anyway, we can sort it all out with proper legal representation so everyone can be happy when the two of you are sent down for life.”
They took them both in. Thankfully their backup had arrived by the time they returned to the street, so they didn’t have to take the prisoners in Barden’s car. They left Morgan Flax where he was; they had more than enough to deal with, without extra bodies complicating matters. While they were waiting for legal representation to arrive for the two prisoners, there was more than enough time for Barden and Lees to grab a coffee in the staff canteen. It could hardly have been called a canteen, Lees thought, but then what she was drinking could hardly have been called coffee, so it suited.
Across from her, Barden sipped his slowly, although his attention was on her.
“I know,” she said before he could placate her with pleasantries. “I know it’s all my fault. I had the opportunity to stop Mullin and I let him go. So Jennifer Appleton’s death is on my conscience.”
“You had Mullin?” he asked while he drank his coffee.
Lees realised she had not told him Mullin was at her house, but there was no point in hiding it now. “I was the one who told him Appleton’s name, but you already know that. I was physically with him and could have arrested him, but I didn’t.”
“Glad to see you admit it at last.”
“You already knew?”
“There’s not much I don’t already know. Carrie, you can’t let it get to you. You can’t think about what might have been. You screwed up and because of that a woman’s dead. But you can’t change it. So accept it, deal with it and move on.”
She would have appreciated it if he had not been quite so blunt about it, but perhaps that was what she needed. Perhaps it was the only way to get her to put it behind her. “Have you ever messed up that badly, Ray? Has anyone ever died because you made a mistake?”
Barden seemed to straighten. It was only slight, but it was enough for her to notice. “Carrie, there are things about being a detective no exam can teach you. Sometimes making mistakes can make you a better soldier. That’s what we are, in the end. Our job may be to investigate and make arrests, but essentially our role is to keep people safe. Sometimes people are killed through friendly fire. Should it happen? No. But every time it does, it makes us better soldiers because we’re not going to make the same mistake again. Don’t forget it, Caroline, but learn from it. The law is there for a reason. It doesn’t matter whether we agree with it, it’s there and we have to abide by it.”