THE FOURTH FRIEND a gripping crime thriller full of stunning twists

by Joy Ellis

  Jackman stared at the picture. ‘Did you ever talk to him?’

  ‘Not directly. He was waiting for Suzanne one day when Tom and I got back from a day on the boat. Tom had a few words with him, but I stayed back. He put my hackles up the moment I saw him.’ He frowned. ‘And then he was at a barbeque at Tom’s place. I don’t think he was actually invited, but he came anyway. That’s when I clocked him observing people.’

  ‘We believe his name is Ralph Dolan. Is that correct?’ asked Jackman.

  Carter tilted his head. ‘I heard him called Ralphie, but I never got his surname. Tom didn’t like him at all, reckoned he had a thing for Suzanne.’

  ‘His sister?’ Marie looked at the picture with distaste. ‘Oh, yuk!’

  ‘Sums him up really.’ Carter shrugged, ‘As I said, creepy.’

  ‘Do you know where he lives?’ asked Jackman.

  ‘Sorry. I was never interested enough to ask.’ He turned to Jackman. ‘Why is he on the board?’

  ‘We have a witness who places a man of this description close to the Holland house around the time that Suzanne disappeared. Until now we had no idea who he was.’

  Marie glanced at the clock. The others would be here in a moment for the morning meeting. It felt good to have Carter here with them, instead of being shut away in his office. ‘Cannon case concluded?’

  ‘Almost. We’ve passed it upstairs for a second look before we kiss it goodbye.’

  Marie touched his arm. ‘Good to have you back.’

  ‘Good to be back.’

  Marie thought he seemed rather apprehensive. Understandable, she guessed, although he seemed to function very well on the streets, going by yesterday’s unauthorised escapade. She told herself to stop trying to understand Carter McLean.

  The next fifteen minutes were taken up with a report on the previous night’s activities in the town. Marie really wasn’t too interested. She half listened in case a name came up that might be useful.

  Then it was Jackman’s turn, and the Suzanne Holland investigation.

  ‘As some of you know, DS McLean and the late Tom Holland were friends, so we are grateful to him for joining us, and perhaps filling in some of the gaps in our knowledge about Suzanne Holland.’ He looked towards Carter. ‘He has already given us a possible identity for the mystery man who was seen in the area on the night Suzanne disappeared. So I suggest we make our priority the search for this Ralph Dolan. Max? Anything on him since yesterday?’

  Max stood up. ‘I’ve confirmed his name, sir. It’s Ralph Edward Doolan. The spelling confused me at first, but so far I’ve had no luck in tracking him down. He was last living at an address in Nottingham, but he’s since moved with no forwarding address.’

  ‘Do we know anything about him? What he does for a living? Has he ever been in trouble?’

  Robbie raised a hand. ‘We checked the PNC and found nothing, sir.’

  Jackman looked at Carter. ‘Anything at all that you can tell us about him?’

  Carter told them about Tom Holland’s suspicions that the man was too interested in his half-sister, and what he himself had observed. ‘I have no idea where he worked or what he did.’

  Robbie raised a hand. ‘So it would be reasonable to believe, if this man is Doolan, that he could have had a legitimate reason for visiting his sister that evening?’

  Jackman shrugged. ‘He could, but we don’t know that. Did he go there purely to see her? Or to abduct her? Kill her? Did they argue and things got out of hand?’

  ‘Or did he discover her body?’ said Marie. ‘But if that were the case, why not just dial 999?’

  ‘And who was with him?’ added Carter. ‘You say he was talking to another man?’

  ‘Alan Pitt saw Doolan clearly, but not the man he was with. He stayed in the shadows.’

  ‘Sir?’ Marie said.

  Jackman looked to Marie and raised an eyebrow.

  ‘It’s Alan Pitt, our witness. How can he be so certain, not only of the description, but of the date too? After all, it was eighteen months ago.’

  ‘Ah. Well, knowing how unreliable witness statements can be, I did ask him that question.’ Jackman exhaled. ‘He told me that the date is etched in his brain because it was the day the hospital gave him his diagnosis and he knew for certain he had cancer. He said he was in a state of shock, but still tried to carry on as normal — walking his dog and so on. He said he was totally absorbed in his own problems, and hearing the men’s voices made him jump. He wanted to speak to them, but they sounded pretty angry, maybe arguing, so he backed off. He said he felt quite disturbed, and for a moment he thought Ponytail was his cousin.’ Jackman paused. ‘I think that’s sufficient reason to remember that night and what he saw.’

  ‘But it was at night.’

  ‘If there’s no cloud cover, go out late tonight, Marie. It’s a full moon. I’m betting you’d spot a ponytail and designer glasses without artificial light.’

  Marie smiled. ‘Fair enough. You’ve answered my query. Poor guy.’

  Jackman beckoned to Carter. ‘Come up here and tell us anything you think might be helpful about your friend Tom, and Suzanne.’

  Marie watched Carter amble towards the front of the room. This was the deep end they’d been trying to avoid all these months. Would he sink, or swim?

  ‘Tom was my best mate. We went to school together and we remained friends afterwards. The only thing I ever recall disagreeing with him about was when he told me he was going to marry Suzanne Cash.’ He swallowed, but carried on. ‘I’d heard rumours that she was, well, an easy lay. And I thought Tom deserved better. But,’ he shrugged, ‘Tom was adamant that he knew all about her past and it didn’t matter. He said she had changed. She loved him, and that was that. And for the first year they were together I had to agree. Everyone said she was the perfect partner, with eyes only for Tom. And then they got married.’

  Marie recalled Carter saying that he hardly knew the woman. She asked, ‘Were you his best man?’

  Carter flashed her an odd look. ‘They married in a registry office, with no guests. They used council workers as witnesses and there were no photographs. Tom said that was how they wanted it — no fuss.’ He sighed. ‘I stopped spending so much time at his place after that. We still met, went out, did stuff and worked on our boat, but I rarely went to their home.’

  ‘You still had reservations about her?’ asked Jackman.

  ‘I just couldn’t take to her, end of. So I stayed away. And, well, being a copper I made a few discreet enquiries about her first marriage. I found out roughly the same as Robbie did, although I had no proof. It isn’t a pleasant story.’

  Robbie gave a grunt of assent.

  ‘Then after another year went by, Tom got kind of quiet, but he wouldn’t say what was wrong. He swore everything in the garden was rosy, but I didn’t believe him. You know when someone says, “I’m fine!” too often? You know damn well they are lying.’

  Like you, thought Marie, and nodded.

  ‘And that’s all I can tell you. Nothing concrete, but an undercurrent strong enough to sweep away a herd of cows.’

  ‘Do you know what they rowed about, Carter?’ asked Jackman. ‘It must have been serious, since he packed a bag and went to Ray’s house.’

  ‘And why Ray?’ Marie added. ‘You were his best buddy. Why not stay with you?’

  ‘I was off on a stakeout the night he had the row. And I think he knew I disliked her, though he never bad-mouthed her, not once. Maybe he didn’t want to tell me what had happened.’

  ‘And he never told you?’ Max sounded surprised. ‘We blokes usually like to chew over things like that with our mates.’

  ‘Not if we are embarrassed, or know we are in the wrong,’ said Carter.

  ‘Mmm, good point.’

  ‘I’d have thought Ray would have said something to you,’ Jackman mused.

  ‘He told me it would blow over. Storm in a teacup.’ Carter pulled a face. ‘Ray was pretty blunt, bless him. He
said I’d probably open my big gob and make things worse.’ He gave a little laugh. ‘So even on our way to the stag do, it wasn’t spoken about.’

  Marie glanced at Jackman and ran a finger across her throat. Cut it now, sir. He’s had enough.

  Jackman coughed. ‘Well, we appreciate all that, Carter. Now, I suggest that Robbie, Max and Charlie keep up the search for Doolan, and Marie and Carter tackle Suzanne herself. I’ve got a broad outline of what she did during the week prior to her disappearance. Work from that, and find out all you can about her and the people she fraternised with. Don’t hold back either. No one has been willing to talk about her, and I want them to stop pussyfooting around. We need someone to be straight about that woman.’

  ‘Anything I can do to help, sir?’ asked Gary Pritchard.

  ‘You are with me, if uniform can spare you, Gary. I’d like you to keep up with what is going on with Danny Hurley. I know the girl is home and dry, but his story still bothers me. We need to know about this mysterious third party who apparently orchestrated and possibly financed the whole weird scheme.’

  ‘Fine, sir. I’m cleared for a few days.’ Gary winked at Marie.

  She responded with a smile. She knew how pleased he was when he managed to get himself seconded to Jackman’s office.

  ‘Excellent. Right, let’s see what we can achieve by the afternoon meeting, shall we?’

  * * *

  Marie and Carter decided to start with Suzanne’s last place of work. Soon they were sitting outside the Tan-Amazing salon in East Market Street.

  ‘Lovely,’ said Marie sarcastically. ‘Really nice.’

  ‘I suppose it’s work, isn’t it? And all the free rays you can soak up.’

  ‘Glad to see you are looking on the bright side.’ Marie released her seatbelt. Before she could get out of the car, Carter took hold of her arm.

  ‘I just wanted to say thanks for not objecting to my getting back into the CID office, especially after the way I acted yesterday.’

  ‘Ah, is this where I get the apology?’

  ‘I know I was an arse.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘It was just that the only way I could sort the situation fast was to go the back route, and I didn’t want to land you in the shit too.’

  ‘Very thoughtful of you, but I’d have turned a blind eye to a lot of things just then.’

  ‘Maybe, maybe not. It wasn’t worth the risk. But I am sorry.’

  ‘Okay, accepted. But I think the straight and narrow would be the sensible way to go, at least for a while, don’t you?’

  ‘It has been pointed out to me, thank you.’ He sat back and exhaled. ‘You have no idea how relieved I am to be helping at last.’

  Marie knew only too well. ‘Your last task.’

  He nodded. ‘My last task.’ He ran a hand over his face. ‘He’s with me all the time now, Marie.’

  Her heart sank. Oh no, please. Not more tales from the bloody crypt! She turned and looked at him.

  ‘Tom was at the morning meeting, leaning against the back wall, all the time I was speaking. I’m surprised the stink of burning didn’t set the alarm off.’

  ‘There was no smell in that room, Carter, other than the usual coppers’ sweaty armpits and a few farts.’ Her attempt to make light of it failed, and she added, ‘Tom Holland wasn’t there either.’

  ‘I do know that. But I still see him.’ His grip on her arm tightened. ‘He’ll go, Marie, he will move on, I know it! Just like the others have. Let’s get this case sorted, then maybe I can get my life back. Or some of it.’

  She looked into his eyes. Carter was pleading with her.

  At least he had admitted that the manifestations were all in his head. All he wanted was to rid himself of the last ghost from the past. Marie knew that somehow she had to find the strength to see him through it.

  She made her decision. She would be his rock. Together they would find out what the hell happened to Tom’s wife, and then he could move on without her. ‘What does he say to you now?’

  ‘“Suzanne.” Just that one word — Suzanne.’

  ‘Then we need to stop wasting time sitting in this sodding car, and find out what happened, don’t we?’

  Carter lit up as if he’d been plugged into a socket. ‘Yes, Sergeant Evans, we bloody well do!’ His smile widened. ‘Let’s go!’

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Danny Hurley had complained of feeling unwell. He wasn’t supposed to be interviewed until the FMO had okayed it, but Jackman wasn’t wasting time. While his officers were out on the Suzanne Holland case, he was going through every word of the original reports.

  When he was on his third coffee, he picked up the phone. ‘Professor Wilkinson?’

  ‘The same. I think I hear the dulcet tone of a detective inspector in trouble. How can I help, DI Jackman?’ Rory Wilkinson replied.

  ‘I’d really value your opinion on a case I have inherited.’

  ‘Then I’m all yours. Is it a macabre and gruesome murder? Lots of blood?’

  Jackman smiled. He could just imagine the tall, hook-nosed man rubbing his hands in glee. ‘I have no idea. I don’t even know if it is a murder.’

  ‘No body? No blood? Oh dear.’

  ‘Body, no. Blood? Gallons of the stuff.’

  ‘How old?’

  ‘Eighteen months plus.’

  ‘Intriguing.’

  ‘If I sent you the CSI photographs, would you take a look for me? Oh, and the scene is still pretty well intact.’

  ‘After all that time? Did the attack occur in some kind of time warp?’

  ‘It’s a strange case, Rory. The cottage was owned by a husband and wife. The wife, whose blood is spread all over the lounge, is missing. The husband was killed in a light aircraft crash three days later, so no one can do anything with the property. It’s in limbo.’

  ‘As are you, by the sound of it.’

  ‘Totally.’

  ‘Then I’d be happy to take a look. Who did the original forensic examination?’

  Jackman squinted at the scrawled signature. ‘Looks like . . . Squires?’

  ‘Ah, the Squirrel! Good man, if a trifle odd.’

  Jackman stifled a chuckle. They didn’t come much odder than Rory himself.

  ‘Did I ever tell you why we call him the Squirrel? Other than the obvious play on his surname.’

  ‘If it has anything to do with nuts, I don’t want to know.’

  ‘Spoilsport! You are getting as bad as DI Nikki Galena. She’s always ruining my fun.’

  ‘Sorry. So can I send you the reports?’

  ‘I can do better. Have them ready and I’ll call in. About an hour?’

  ‘If you’re sure? I could take you to the crime scene, if it helps?’

  ‘A trip out with the delectable DI Jackman? Is the Pope a Catholic?’

  Jackman hung up, still grinning. Despite his camp patter, the Home Office pathologist was one of the sharpest professionals that Jackman had ever met. The thought of getting his opinion on what might have happened to Suzanne Holland cheered him up enormously.

  * * *

  The beautiful town of Sanxenxo was awash in glorious sunshine, but Harvey Cash was struggling just to wake up.

  The hangovers were part of life now, like breathing. Except even that hurt. Drawing in a breath made his head thunder like a steam hammer.

  He felt his way slowly and carefully to the fridge, and downed half a bottle of cold water. The shock made him gasp.

  He stood for a moment, holding onto the heavy door, trying to regain his balance and control his heaving stomach.

  After a few moments he was able to sit on a kitchen chair and think about eating. He couldn’t face it. He shouldn’t consider another drink either, but he couldn’t face being sober.

  Since that Brit cop had visited him, he had been possessed by thoughts of Suzanne.

  He’d told the guy a lot, more than he’d ever told anyone. But he hadn’t told him all of it. Now Harvey was wondering
if maybe he should have done.

  A yellow-and-green magnet with a shield and a canary on it pinned the young detective’s card to the fridge door. Right now Harvey was a very long way from Norwich City and his beloved Canaries.

  He stared at the card and pondered. Should he call? Should he tell that persuasive copper the awful truth about Suzanne? Or should he have another drink?

  Harvey opted for the second option.

  * * *

  The overwhelming response to the EFIT picture in the papers and on television had come as a shock.

  Superintendent Ruth Crooke tapped her finger on the massive pile of typed sheets. ‘I’m sure it has something to do with social media. The whole world and his bloody brother think they know this man.’ She scowled at Jackman. ‘Are there really that many men who wear their hair like that?’

  ‘A reliable source called Max tells me that long hair is very popular nowadays. A lot of women think it’s pretty hot.’

  Ruth snorted. ‘Sorry, but I think it’s ridiculous. They just look . . . oh, never mind. The thing is, I’ve had to allocate about a thousand civilians to this. We can barely cope.’

  ‘It’s frustrating I know,’ Jackman said reasonably, ‘but maybe one of them really does know him. Let’s just hope the sorting process filters something of use.’ He noted the dark circles beneath Ruth’s eyes. ‘How are you?’

  ‘Me?’ There was a long pause. ‘I’m shaken, Rowan. Shaken to the core.’

  ‘I’m sure you are. And Leah?’

  ‘That girl is amazing. She’s gone from being all nervous and unsettled to some kind of super hero since she was actually abducted. It’s bizarre.’

  ‘It’s a good way to be. Where is she now?’

  ‘Business as usual. Back to uni, although I’ve insisted she stays with me until we know whether or not someone else was involved.’

  ‘I’m taking Professor Wilkinson to see the Holland house, and after that Danny Hurley should be fit to interview. He is my number one priority.’

  ‘Good. Thank you, Rowan. I appreciate it. Just the thought of some shadowy figure waiting in the wings to make another attempt on her turns my blood to ice.’

  ‘Uniform still have her under surveillance, don’t they, ma’am?’