by Val McDermid
‘You don’t mind?’
‘No. And this way I get to see where you work.’
Ten minutes later, they were stepping out of the lift on the third floor of Bradfield Police HQ. The night duty officer hadn’t batted an eyelid when Paula signed Elinor in. It made her wonder just how many of her colleagues used the office for their out-of-hours trysts. ‘We’re down here,’ she said, leading the way but not letting go of Elinor’s hand.
There was a light on in one corner of the office, a desk lamp augmented by the eerie light of Stacey’s monitors. ‘Stacey? Are you still here?’ Paula called in surprise.
‘I’m working that Central Station CCTV footage,’ Stacey replied. ‘You shouldn’t kiss your girlfriend in the lift, it’s on the internal cameras.’
‘Oh shit,’ Paula said. ‘It’ll be all over the intranet tomorrow.’
‘No, it won’t,’ Stacey said absently. ‘I’ve already wiped it.’ She stood up, her head barely appearing over the screens. ‘I’m Stacey,’ she said. ‘It’s nice to see Paula getting a life. That’ll make three of us.’
Paula couldn’t remember the last time she’d heard Stacey make such a long speech that wasn’t about ICT. ‘This is Elinor,’ she said.
‘I remember you from the Robbie Bishop investigation,’ Stacey said. ‘You’re the one who spotted the poisons. Very impressive.’
Paula was gobsmacked by this exchange. Did Elinor have this effect on everyone?
‘Thanks,’ Elinor said. She was wandering round the room, checking out the whiteboards, getting the feel of the place. ‘This place has a good vibe. Very grounded.’
Paula laughed. ‘You wouldn’t say that if you were here at nine in the morning.’
Stacey had sat down again behind her screens. ‘Since you’re here, Paula, come and have a look at this. I’ve been working on it for a bit, I think I’ve got something.’
Paula looked at Elinor, checking whether this was OK. Elinor smiled and waved her away with her hand. ‘On you go,’ she said. ‘I’m fine.’
Stacey blanked four of her screens, leaving two live. ‘This one here is the enhanced footage. See, the time here: four thirty-three. Plenty of time for Seth to have got here from school.’ She clicked her mouse and one of the figures moving through the station entrance was highlighted. The others faded into grey background. Another click and everything about the image sharpened and clarified. ‘I think this is Seth.’
‘I think you’re right. Kathy showed me some video of him this afternoon. I’d say that’s definitely him. So where does he go?’
More mouse clicks. Stacey had stitched together shots from several cameras that showed Seth moving across the concourse. He passed the Costa Coffee outlet and then disappeared. ‘Where did he go?’ Paula asked.
‘There’s a blind spot between Costa Coffee and Simply Food. There’s a passage that leads to the car park. I think he met someone and they left together.’
Paula groaned. ‘That is the shittiest luck.’
‘You think?’
‘Well, what else?’
‘Somebody who knows exactly where the cameras are and what they cover.’
A long silence. Then Paula said, ‘That’s a very interesting idea.’
‘I know. The nice thing is that he’s not quite as clever as he thinks he is.’ Stacey tapped some keys and the other monitor sprang into life. A fragment of monochrome video played for a few seconds. Stacey paused it and clicked the mouse. A figure that might have been Seth leapt into relief. ‘I think that’s Seth again.’
‘Could be.’
‘It’s the right area and the right time. OK, it could be practically anybody. But for the sake of argument and right time and right place, let’s say it is Seth. Now look at this.’ Another tap on the mouse button. A second figure was highlighted. Only half of him was visible because he was cut off by the Simply Food storefront. And the shot was from behind him so nothing of his face could be seen. But he definitely had his hand on the might-have-been-Seth’s arm.
‘That’s him,’ Paula said, the heat of the chase suddenly in her head.
‘For all the good it does us. We can probably tell his height and that he has collar-length dark hair, which might be a wig. But that’s all.’
‘Have you looked for him on the rest of the footage?’
Stacey sighed. ‘I know you all think I can do magic, but there are limits to my powers. This is needle-in-a-haystack time. I’ve had a try, but there are just too many possibilities.’
‘Still, at least we can put out an appeal. We can be very specific about where and when. We might get something to go on.’ Paula put an arm round Stacey and hugged her. ‘You are truly brilliant.’ She looked over at Elinor, who was browsing some papers on Kevin’s desk. ‘This woman is a genius.’
‘Someone has to be. It’s always good when they’re on your team. Well done, Stacey.’ Elinor seemed distracted and looked up, a thin frown line between her eyebrows. ‘Is there a reason why you haven’t released the fact that the victims are related?’
For a moment, Paula couldn’t make sense of what Elinor had said. ‘Well, we know the cases are related because of the MO. We’ve said we believe it’s the work of the same killer.’
Elinor shook her head impatiently. ‘No, I don’t mean that. I mean literally related. As in, relatives.’
‘What are you talking about? They’re not related. Why do you say that?’
Elinor held up two pieces of paper. ‘These are their DNA profiles?’
‘If it says so on the lab reports. It’s routine. We DNA-profile all murder victims.’ Paula was halfway across the room, followed by Stacey.
Elinor kept looking from one piece of paper to the other. ‘Well, unless there’s been a cock-up at the lab, these two people are close blood relatives. I’m not an expert, you understand? But I’d say they’re either cousins or half-siblings.’
CHAPTER 35
Nigel Barnes sat at the table, hands folded in front of him, looking less than thrilled. According to the custody sergeant, he’d been deeply pissed off that the criminal partner in the law firm he patronised wasn’t prepared to turn out at half past ten at night and had sent his recently qualified junior instead. The lawyer had the air of a man whose feet keep scrabbling for bottom and not quite finding it.
Sam and Carol had barely sat down when the lawyer was twittering at them. ‘I fail to see why my client is here at all, never mind under arrest. As I understand it, you have discovered the whereabouts of his wife and child, who disappeared fourteen years ago. Instead of allowing my client to grieve, you have dragged him down here on a trumped-up charge . . .’
‘We haven’t charged your client with anything,’ Sam said, setting up the recording equipment. When it beeped, he recited the names of those present. ‘Earlier this week—’
‘For the record, I wish to protest at the treatment meted out to my client, who should have been given time to absorb this terrible news, not treated like a criminal.’
‘Duly noted,’ Carol said in a bored voice.
Sam started again. ‘Earlier this week, three sets of human remains were removed from Wastwater in the Lake District. The remains proved to be those of a man, a woman and an infant. The bodies were discovered as a result of information obtained from a computer that had been hidden behind a false wall in a house that used to belong to you, Mr Barnes. A house where you lived with your wife Danuta and your baby daughter Lynette.’
Barnes shook his head. ‘I have no idea what you are talking about.’
‘Dental records prove the woman’s body was that of your wife. DNA establishes that the infant was her daughter Lynette. And other physical evidence indicates that the third body was that of a man called Harry Sim. A man who used to work for you and your wife at Corton’s bank.’
Barnes’s face showed no emotion.
‘You don’t seem very upset, Mr Barnes,’ Carol said gently. ‘This is your wife and child we’re talking about. So far, the on
ly emotion I’ve seen from you is a burning desire not to come to the police station.’
‘It was a long time ago, Inspector,’ Barnes said courteously. ‘I’ve come to terms with my loss.’
‘You don’t seem very curious about how your wife and daughter ended up at the bottom of Wastwater with another man,’ Sam said.
Barnes looked down at his hands. ‘Like I told your colleagues at the time, Danuta had left me. She wrote me a note saying it was over, that she was in love with someone else. I had no idea who her lover was or where she’d gone. It’s clear now that Harry Sim was the man in question.’ He briefly met Sam’s eyes. ‘I was very hurt at the time. Very hurt indeed. But I had to get over it and move on.’
‘You had no idea they were dead?’
Barnes’s face twisted in what Sam thought was meant to be a spasm of pain. It wasn’t convincing. ‘No,’ he said.
‘Angela Forsythe did.’ Sam let the words hang in the air.
Barnes couldn’t hide the tightening of his hands’ grip on each other. He gave a deep sigh. ‘Angela is not the most balanced of women. She never liked me. I always wondered if she was in love with Danuta herself.’
‘Turns out she was right, though. And maybe she was right about the other half of her theory.’
The lawyer leaned forward, as if suddenly remembering he was supposed to be doing a job. ‘Is that a question, Sergeant?’
Sam smiled. ‘I’m working up to it, sir. Angela believes Danuta didn’t leave you. She believes you killed her. And Lynette.’
Barnes made a noise that almost resembled a laugh. ‘That’s insane. Harry Sim being in the lake proves she left me.’
‘No,’ Carol said, her voice lazy. ‘It just proves that Harry Sim’s body was disposed of at the same time as Danuta and Lynette.’
‘And that’s kind of a problem,’ Sam said. ‘And before you try to tell us it must have been some bizarre suicide pact, or mad stalker Harry kidnapped Danuta and Lynette and killed them before topping himself, let me explain to you that the evidence is perfectly clear on one point. However the three of them got into the lake, it wasn’t under their own steam. Somebody wrapped their bodies, tied a bundle of rocks to the package and dropped them into the lake. That was you, wasn’t it, Nigel?’
‘This is preposterous,’ the lawyer protested. ‘Are you going to produce any evidence at any point? Or have you brought us here for some sadistic purpose?’
Sam opened the folder in front of him. ‘I mentioned a computer earlier. In spite of efforts to purge the hard disk, our experts were able to extract quite a lot of data. There’s a whole section here—’ he pointed to the page ‘—about the possibilities of carbon monoxide poisoning. And in another file, directions to Wastwater and information about its isolation and depth. Like I said, this computer was found hidden in your old house.’
‘Anyone could have put that there.’ Barnes was clinging on to his composure.
‘Why would they do that?’ Carol asked the question kindly, as if she really wanted to know.
Barnes unfastened his hands and ran his fingers through his thick hair. ‘To frame me, of course.’
‘What I don’t understand is why, if someone wanted to frame you, they would go to all the trouble of planting the evidence and then not telling anyone about it,’ Carol said. ‘That seems a little pointless.’
‘We’ll find your DNA on it,’ Sam said. ‘We’re checking back in the computer company records. It’s going to show up as your computer, Nigel. You can’t wriggle off that particular hook.’
There was a long silence. Then Barnes said, ‘It could have been Danuta herself. She wasn’t herself after the baby.’ He shrugged one shoulder. ‘Women and their hormones. They do bizarre things.’
‘I’m going to tell you what I think happened,’ Sam said.
The lawyer shook his head. ‘No, I don’t think so, Sergeant. You’ve got nothing. This is a fishing expedition. We’ve had enough of this. Either charge my client or we’re walking out of here.’
‘No,’ Barnes said, laying a hand on his lawyer’s arm. ‘Let the man speak. I want to know what this fantasy is that he’s constructed. Forewarned is forearmed, after all.’
Sam gathered himself together, remembering Tony’s advice. One chance. And this was it. ‘I think you killed all three of them. Sleeping pills to knock them out and carbon monoxide poisoning, is my guess. Then you dumped the bodies. Harry was your get-out-of-jail-free card. If the bodies turned up, there was the evidence that Danuta had had a lover. You were vindicated.’
‘If I was that clever, wouldn’t I have made it look like a murder and suicide?’ Barnes demanded.
Sam nodded. ‘That puzzled me to begin with. Then when I talked to Angela I realised that even us stupid plods might have thought twice about that scenario once we found out what a total loser Harry was. Danuta would never have run off with him, not in a million years. Not even under the influence of post-natal hormones. So I fell back on Plan B.’
‘Fascinating,’ Barnes said. ‘And what’s this Plan B?’
Sam grinned. ‘You’re going to confess to disposing of the bodies, aren’t you? You’re going to tell us how you suspected Harry might have abducted your wife and daughter, so you went to his caravan where you found they’d died of carbon monoxide poisoning from a faulty heater. You’re going to tell us how you were in a quandary then. Because you’d no evidence of abduction. You’d already told the police that she’d left you. We might have thought you’d gone there in a fit of jealous rage, killed them all, then made it look like a terrible accident. And you’re going to tell us that the only thing you could think of was to dump the bodies.’
Barnes laughed, a loud artificial sound. ‘That is the most absurd thing I’ve ever heard.’
The lawyer pushed back his chair. ‘Right. That’s it. This is egregious. We’re not entertaining these speculations a minute longer.’
Carol leaned across. ‘Interview terminated at 10.57 p.m.’ She switched off the tapes.
‘It’s not speculation,’ Sam said, all geniality gone. ‘It’s cold, hard fact. We’re going to be looking, Nigel. We’re going to be turning over stones. Your life is going under the microscope. We’re going to be announcing our discovery tomorrow and Angela’s going to be talking to the press. She’s already lining up a whole team of former colleagues from Corton’s to talk about how pathetic Harry was. Virtually autistic, I hear. They’ll all be talking about how truly terrible Danuta’s life with you must have been if she preferred shacking up in a caravan park with Harry Sim to staying with you. Imagine. How shit must it have been for Harry to be the answer? And then there will be the speculation - did she really run off with Harry? Who could have put the bodies in the lake?’
Barnes stood up, his hands clenched by his side, his composure slipping like greasepaint under klieg lights. ‘You can’t do that.’
‘We won’t be doing it. What we’ll be doing is going round every single person in your life asking about you and Danuta. Your friends, your colleagues, your clients. Because you’re not that clever, Nigel. You’ve made this way too complicated. You should just have left them in the caravan with a dodgy heater. But no. You had to be Mr Clever Clogs,’ Sam said sarcastically.
Barnes made a lunge for Sam, but his lawyer bumped his side, setting him off balance. ‘You’ve got nothing on me,’ he shouted.
‘We will have,’ Sam said. ‘Because you’re really not that clever. And when stupid people try to be clever, they make mistakes.’ Hs turned to Carol. ‘Fourteen years ago, what was he driving? Something nice, I bet. BMW, Mercedes, that sort of thing. There’s got to be a good chance it’s still around. Those quality motors last.’
Carol pretended to think. ‘Credit-card receipts, Sam. He’ll have had to buy petrol somewhere. Chances are we’ll be able to track that down.’
‘Or we could just issue a statement to the press saying we’ve interviewed her husband and we’re not looking for anyone else in connection
with the suspicious deaths of Danuta Barnes, Lynette Barnes and Harry Sim. I mean, if we’re not going to get a conviction, we might as well not bother wasting our time.’
‘Are you threatening my client?’ the lawyer said, too timid to give either Sam or Carol cause for concern.
‘How can telling the truth constitute a threat?’ Carol assumed her most innocent face. ‘Sam’s right. That’s the most efficient way to go. We’ve interviewed the husband - that’s you, Nigel, in case you’ve forgotten, with all these years intervening - and we’re not looking for anyone else.’ She shook Sam’s hand. ‘Sorted. Sometimes the court of public opinion is all you need.’
Barnes looked wildly at his lawyer. ‘You’ve got to stop this. It’s an outrage. It’s persecution.’
Sam knew there wasn’t much the lawyer could do or say. He and Carol had been careful not to overstep the mark. He let the silence hang heavy while Barnes ran his hands through his hair. Then, very quietly, he said, ‘Of course, if you were to admit to Plan B, none of this would have to happen.’
‘I think this is bordering on the inappropriate,’ the lawyer said weakly.
‘Why don’t DC Evans and I go have a cup of coffee so you can consider your options?’ Carol said, setting off for the door with Sam at her heels.
They said nothing till they were clear of the custody suite. Then Sam sank into a squat, his head in his hands. ‘I so wanted to nail him,’ he said, his voice muffled. ‘He’s a stone killer.’
‘I know. But I think he’ll go for disposal of the bodies and perverting the course of justice. Better to face the certainty of that than endure the knowledge that everywhere you go people are pointing the finger.’ Carol crouched beside him and put a comforting hand on his shoulder. ‘It’s a result, Sam.’
‘No, it’s not. It’s about a quarter of a result.’
‘I hate it as much as you do. Always have. But sometimes you have to settle for less. It’s a closed case, Sam.’
He tilted his head back and sighed. ‘You’re always talking about how we speak for the dead. But sometimes we just don’t shout loud enough.’