The Silent Children

by Carol Wyer

‘They might not remember me there,’ he said. ‘Place was busy.’

  Robyn ignored the comment. ‘I’d like to ask you a few questions about Tessa Hall. You knew her from quiz nights, didn’t you?’

  ‘I did.’

  ‘And you are also aware she was murdered last week.’

  He nodded.

  ‘I wanted to ask you about your relationship with Tessa Hall.’

  ‘I didn’t have a relationship with her.’

  Robyn shook her head. ‘I’m afraid that isn’t true. It would be best to be honest with us, Mr Jenkinson. When was the last time you saw Tessa?’

  ‘I don’t want to discuss it.’

  ‘Are you refusing to assist us, sir?’ Robyn’s eyes narrowed as she spoke.

  Roger remained silent. Robyn let him stew for a couple of minutes, noting the slight beads of sweat that formed on his upper lip, before speaking again.

  ‘Did you send Miss Hall a Valentine’s card? Before you answer, please be aware we have extracted fingerprints from it.’ She didn’t need to explain any further.

  Roger Jenkinson spoke so quietly she could hardly hear his response. ‘Yes.’

  ‘You were having a relationship with Tessa Hall?’

  He gave a brief nod. ‘I’ve been seeing her whenever possible since last December.’

  ‘It strikes me as odd that you didn’t come forward as soon as you heard she’d been murdered. Instead, you suddenly departed for the Peak District.’

  ‘Once I found out Tessa was dead, I needed to be alone. I couldn’t talk to anyone about it. I wanted some time to think and try to understand what had happened. I loved her. I couldn’t believe she’d been killed.’ Roger’s demeanour changed. He suddenly looked less self-assured.

  ‘As I understand it you’ve also got a steady girlfriend – Naomi Povey. If you loved Tessa Hall so much, why were you still with Naomi?’

  ‘I tried to finish with her but it’s been really difficult. Naomi’s like a bloody limpet. You try to get rid of her but she clings on. I tried dropping hints, being offhand with her, and even told her we should break up, but she keeps turning up at my house as if nothing’s wrong. I ought to have told her straight about Tessa but I was a bit worried about how she’d react. Thing is, I still have feelings for Naomi too. I didn’t want to hurt her. She was really nice to me when my wife left me. We had a fair bit in common – we were both on the same shooting team at one point – and for a while I even thought I loved her. But once I met Tessa, that changed.’

  ‘Does Naomi know about Tessa?’ Robyn asked even though Naomi had told her she’d not challenged Roger about the affair.

  ‘I planned on telling her last week, but Naomi made a huge fuss about Valentine’s Day and bought me presents, insisted we spent time together that day and, oh, God, it was just too hard to tell her. I should have. I know I should have, but Naomi’s so intense, and it wasn’t the right time. Tessa knew I was having difficulty getting rid of Naomi, and we were both concerned she’d turn psycho on us if we didn’t handle her properly. Tessa said to leave it for a little while longer, keep out of Naomi’s way, let her get the message, and then tell her.’

  ‘Naomi can be volatile?’

  ‘Bloody hell, can she? If she loses her temper, you know about it. She can be very fiery. I used to like that in her. I’m not so keen on it now.’

  ‘I understand you’ve also had your hot-blooded moments, sir. In 2014, you were accused of possessing a firearm and threatening an individual.’

  He sighed dramatically. ‘I should have known you’d bring that up. We’re talking about that nutcase who was on my property. He was the one in the wrong, not me. He climbed over my fence and wandered across my field. When I told him to clear off, he said he was entitled to walk across it because it was common land. I didn’t feel like arguing the toss, so told him to piss off or I’d shoot him. I waved a stick at him. He was too far away to see what it really was. It scared him enough that he ran away, but he stumbled trying to get back over the fence, and hurt his ankle. Next I knew, the bastard had gone to the police and reported me for threatening him and causing him injury! Where’s the logic in that? I denied it. The police didn’t find any weapons in my house. I wasn’t charged. End of.’

  His face had turned deep red with annoyance and Robyn allowed him a few seconds before she calmly asked, ‘Do you currently own any firearms?’

  ‘Course not.’ A thin spray of spittle flew across the table as he spoke. ‘Search my house. You’ll not find anything there. Now, can I go? It’s been a totally shit week.’

  ‘In a moment. When was the last time you saw Anthony Hawkins?’

  ‘Anthony? Why are you asking me about Anthony? He had a heart attack, didn’t he?’ He fixed his hard blue eyes on her.

  ‘How did you know he had died?’

  ‘I found out this morning. I rang a mate, Paul, to arrange to meet for a pint later. He’s a member of that posh golf club at Brocton. Said Anthony had snuffed it playing golf – heart attack.’

  ‘Could you describe your relationship with Mr Hawkins?’

  ‘We got on. He was a bit bossy at times. He used to be a prison warden and he liked telling us what to do. I don’t always like being told what to do.’

  ‘Did you fall out with him?’

  ‘Not really.’

  ‘You were overheard at the Goat in Abbots Bromley, in late December, threatening to kill him.’

  Roger spluttered. ‘Hang on a sec. I was drunk. I didn’t mean anything. He was being his usual pompous self and I got angry with him. It wasn’t serious.’

  ‘So you are saying this was nothing more than a spat, but you can’t remember what it was about.’

  ‘It was the usual. Anthony told me I was out of order. I said something about it being a good job we weren’t going to be playing together any more. He went on about my shit attitude to life in general – all petty stuff in the cold light of day – less so after several pints. The landlord told us to clear off and we did. I went home, sobered up and forgot about it. This was all ages ago.’

  ‘Is that why the team broke up? Because you fell out?’

  ‘No. We’d decided to split up anyway. It was only a bloody quiz team! That night I was sick of him.’

  ‘So it was about your attitude to life?’

  ‘Something like that.’

  ‘It wasn’t about Tessa Hall?’

  Roger Jenkinson went very quiet. The beads of sweat on his lip were more evident now.

  ‘I’ll ask you again. Was it about your attitude or was it because you’d found out Anthony had slept with Tessa?’

  ‘Oh, for fuck’s sake. I don’t have to put up with this. It doesn’t matter what it was about. I was pissed. Got it? It didn’t mean anything. Anthony wasn’t murdered so this isn’t relevant.’

  Robyn still had to learn where he’d been the morning Tessa Hall was murdered. ‘So, where were you on Thursday the sixteenth of February?’

  He shuffled in his seat. ‘You’re barking up the wrong tree. I didn’t kill Tessa. I met up with an old work colleague who lives north of Leeds. I arrived there about eight thirty. Spent the morning with Andy – that’s Andy Ford. We both used to work for Moo Dairies.’ He waited for Robyn to make a note and smirked when she finished. ‘He’ll vouch for me. And, of course, I spent the afternoon and night with Naomi.’

  He sighed heavily. ‘And if you want to know where I was on Saturday morning when Anthony dropped dead, I was somewhere in the Peak District – probably on my way to Kinder Scout – a plateau in the Dark Peak. There was a group of exercise instructors – from the Nuffield gym in Sheffield – walking up there. I spoke to a couple of them. We decided the weather was too shit to go any further. Ask them. They’ll probably remember me. I don’t want you to think I scared the old bastard to death.’

  There was a pause while Roger scratched at his face and stared into the distance. His eyes glittered when he next spoke.

  ‘You were right. The argument in
the pub was about Tessa. That twat Anthony was bragging about how he’d slept with her. He’d seen me with her and was mouthing off. I told him to shut up.’ He flexed his knuckles as he spoke. ‘May I leave now? I’ve got stuff to be getting on with.’

  As he stood up, Matt’s attention was drawn to the man’s scuffed walking boots.

  ‘What size shoe do you take, Mr Jenkinson?’

  ‘Ten.’

  Robyn caught the look Matt threw her and spoke. ‘Sit down again for a minute. Do you know Henry Gregson?’

  ‘I won’t sit down. If I’m not being charged with something, and I presume I’m not, then I have work to do at home.’

  ‘Answer the question, Mr Jenkinson, or I’ll find some excuse to hold you here.’

  ‘No. Never heard of him.’ He stared at her, nostrils flaring.

  ‘Thank you, sir. Now, would you please allow Sergeant Higham to take a DNA swab and your fingerprints for elimination purposes, and then you’ll be allowed to go.’ She didn’t linger to listen to any protests. Matt would set him straight.

  Robyn stomped back into the office. If Roger Jenkinson had been with Andy Ford on Thursday morning, it was unlikely he’d have murdered Tessa. It would take two hours to reach Leeds from Barton-under-Needwood – longer at that time of morning with the heavy traffic, and his friend lived further the other side of Leeds. That still left Naomi. Could the woman have been so jealous of Tessa, she’d killed her?

  ‘David, can you talk to Andy Ford, an ex-employee of Moo Dairies, to confirm Roger Jenkinson was with him on the sixteenth?’ She threw the notepad she’d used onto his desk.

  ‘Yes, guv,’ David replied.

  Mitz was frowning at his screen. He called Robyn over. ‘Matt was dealing with Anthony Hawkins’ bank details and trying to track that huge amount of money deposited into it. He contacted Fidelity, the company behind the unit trust bond, and they’ve released the information he requested. Anthony Hawkins only triggered part of the fund. The initial deposit to set up the bond was one million pounds. He still has £900,000 left in it.’

  Robyn drew a sharp breath. Anthony Hawkins and Tessa Hall both had a million pounds squirrelled away. How had they come by it? This changed everything. Could his death have been unnatural? Jenkinson’s words triggered a thought. Had somebody scared Anthony Hawkins to death? Was that actually possible?

  She rang Harry McKenzie straight away.

  ‘Not got those DNA test results yet, Robyn. Another case arrived soon after you rang yesterday and that had to take precedence. I’ve put an assistant on it for you and we should get back to you very soon. I know how important it is for your investigation.’

  ‘Thanks, Harry. I won’t keep you. I wanted to know if it’s possible for a person to physically die of fright. I suspect it is. However, I’d rather hear it from a professional.’

  Harry cleared his throat. ‘This is about Anthony Hawkins, isn’t it? In his case it is definitely possible. If a person is already at risk, and has narrowed arteries such as those we found in Anthony Hawkins, he or she might never experience any symptoms, but when faced with an incident that causes the adrenalin levels to rise rapidly, and destabilise the plaque that’s built up within the arteries, could well have a sudden heart attack.’

  ‘What sort of incident would cause such fear?’

  ‘You’re the detective, Robyn. What do you think? I’d say something fairly major – a car accident, brush with death, or someone holding him up at gunpoint, that sort of thing.’

  ‘Harry, thank you. You’re a gem.’

  Her own heart was now racing. She called across to Anna and Mitz. ‘Anthony Hawkins was alone on an empty golf course when he died. According to Shearer’s report, the man hadn’t booked a round of golf. Now, Anthony Hawkins knew the club rules: that a tee off slot had to be booked with reception. A breach of the rules would result in him being asked to leave the club, so why didn’t he book one?’

  ‘So do you think he’d arranged a meeting there, guv?’ Anna asked. ‘The golf clubs and outfit were just for show?’

  ‘No. If that had been the case, he wouldn’t have changed his shoes for a round of golf. If he’d arranged a meeting, he’d have worn ordinary shoes and certainly not taken his clubs. I have a hunch he was lured to the course to be killed. I suspect his killer arranged the meeting on the golf course, and Hawkins turned up, expecting to play a round of golf.’

  Anna nodded. ‘That makes sense.’

  ‘Now, consider this: how could the murderer be certain the golf course wouldn’t be in use? To be sure neither of them would be spotted by another group of golfers, teeing off at the same time, he’d surely have contacted the club reception. It’s the only way the killer could have known the course would be empty. Did somebody phone the club and ask if the course was free Saturday morning?’

  Anna’s pen flew across her notepad. ‘I’ll look into that,’ she volunteered.

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘What’s made you think Anthony Hawkins was murdered? He died of a heart attack,’ Mitz asked.

  ‘Something Harry said. He told me a serious shock – one brought on by fear of dying – could kill a person with atherosclerosis. He mentioned it could happen if somebody pointed a gun at such a person.’

  Mitz nodded as he followed her argument.

  ‘I wondered if the same person who killed Henry Gregson persuaded Anthony Hawkins to come to the golf course in order to shoot him, but when Anthony Hawkins caught sight of the gun, he keeled over in fear, and saved the killer the job. Is that a leap too far?’

  Matt caught the back end of the conversation as he entered the office. ‘That bloke Roger Jenkinson is definitely aggressive. I almost had to hold him down to get his fingerprints. What’s a leap too far?’

  Robyn told him about the latest revelation and ran through her theory again for his benefit.

  ‘It’s certainly feasible. We still need to work out why.’

  ‘It could be to do with the same secret. Henry Gregson, Tessa Hall and even Anthony Hawkins were keeping something secret, and let’s not forget Tessa and Anthony had suddenly come into money. Keep digging, folks. There must be something else that connects these men and Tessa Hall. We’re getting closer. I’m sure we are. Once we get those DNA results back, we might have the answer to this confounding case.’

  Forty-Two

  THEN

  * * *

  The young man is sick of trying. Today was the third job interview he’s had and it’s obvious that the suited bloke, who spent most of his time staring at notes, was never going to employ him.

  Back home, his mother’s getting ready to meet her new fella. She’s all giddy like some teenager and he feels a mixture of happiness and nausea. She’s not like his mum at all. His sister obviously thinks the same. She pulls a face.

  Ever since the night he was beaten up by the trio of bad-assed drug dealers, he’s been forced to keep on the straight and narrow – no more selling drugs to the kids at school and, consequently, no more income. Johnny Hounslow is still in a secure centre near Stoke, and he thinks he should visit him but can’t be bothered. What’s he going to say to him? Johnny will get out soon and that’ll be that. He’ll probably end up working at his dad’s factory. Lucky sod.

  Of course, the cops wanted to know what happened that night six months previous. A drunk, who’d been asleep in the alley, saw what happened and called for help. He didn’t know why the three huge guys were kicking a kid to death, but terrified they’d do the same to him, he hid behind the bins until they left. It was thanks to the old drunk that he was still alive. The trio had caused some serious damage to his kidneys and face, and if he’d been left for too long in the alleyway, he’d have probably choked on his own blood, or his kidneys would have packed in and he’d be on regular dialysis now. His sister was really upset. She blamed herself and said it was all her fault it had happened, but of course, it wasn’t.

  At the moment, he couldn’t care less. Life sucks big tim
e. He’s spent the entire summer looking for work, along with every other sixteen-year-old now out of education. So far, no one has been impressed by his qualifications or his attitude – he’s had a few interviews and got nowhere. It’s bloody disheartening. Why don’t they want him? He is bright and wants to work. What more do they want?

  He’ll have to try harder if he really wants employment, and at the moment, his dole money isn’t enough for fags and booze and having a good time. He’s going to end up like his old man – a loser – if he doesn’t get a grip.

  His mother’s flouncing about in yet another revealing top. This one’s black with sparkling sequins on it. She looks like a deflated disco ball. ‘What’cha think of this one?’ she asks.

  His sister stops working the gum in her mouth, puts down her magazine and looks her mother up and down. ‘That’s the one. Wear that. You look great.’

  His mother’s face breaks into a rare smile. ‘Thanks, sweet cheeks.’

  His sister goes back to her magazine. As soon as his mother leaves the room he speaks. ‘Really? You like that one?’

  ‘Nah, but she’s happy and she’ll stop parading about in every single outfit she owns. She’s doing my head in.’

  He laughs and turns up the television. The football is on. As he watches the teams walk out onto the pitch, he wishes once again he’d made it as a footballer. There’d be no stopping him if he had that sort of money.

  His sister’s chewing again, her jaw moving silently.

  ‘How come you’ve got a magazine? You nick it?’ he asks.

  She puts down the magazine and gives him a patronising look. ‘I got it from a friend who’d finished with it. No point you looking at it cos you can’t read anyway.’

  He scowls. ‘Shut your face.’

  ‘Gosh, I’m so scared,’ she replies in a bored tone.

  He throws a cushion at her and she dodges it, laughing at him. ‘Here, there’s an article in it about this gorgeous guy who became an escort and earned loads of money taking old, rich women out. Why don’t you have a go at that?’