She shook her head, knowing that as soon as the fresh air hit her face she would change her mind. The crowd of partygoers had either paired off or were leaning into the bar ordering one last round of drinks. Grabbing his hand, she pulled him forward. ‘I have a better idea.’
Giggling, they scurried down the corridor and ducked into a darkened room, which was so small it could be mistaken for a cupboard. The PIRS room was used to assist witnesses to identify criminals. It had a couple of monitors, a filing cabinet, and a small table wedged against the wall.
Jennifer flicked on the light and locked the door from the inside. She reached for the table as Ethan kissed her, tasting of whiskey and surprisingly, cigarettes.
The clasps of her earrings dug into her skin as Ethan held her head in his hands. She kissed him hard, wanting to lose herself without thinking. The national anthem echoed through the corridor as the party came to an end, and Jennifer tried hard to dismiss thoughts of the outside world as she pulled out Ethan’s shirt and ran her fingers up his torso. But as his hands slid the length of her body, her lingering doubts returned. What was she doing here with Ethan when she’d arranged to meet Will? He was her best mate and he needed her. Ethan’s mouth nibbled on her neck before he lifted her onto the table, pushing her dress around her thighs, Jennifer gasped for breath. This is happening too fast, she thought, her heart thumping hard. This is all wrong.
‘No, wait,’ Jennifer said, her raspy breath abating. But Ethan didn’t appear to hear her, as he pulled her towards him. ‘Ethan, stop!’ Pressing both hands on his chest, she pushed him back.
Ethan shot her a look of disbelief as his hands fell from her sides. ‘Are you serious?’
Jennifer slid off the desk onto her feet, now painfully sober. ‘Yes ... sorry.’
‘Oh,’ Ethan said, slightly panting. ‘Seems I got crossed wires.’ The muscles in his jaw tightened as he tucked in his shirt.
Jennifer nodded as she fixed her dress. All she wanted was to be alone.
Ringing pierced through Jennifer’s brain as her phone vibrated from under her pillow. She opened one eye and reached for the offending object. Her eyelids were sticky from the mascara that stained her pillow. She rubbed her mouth in disgust at the bitter taste of alcohol lining her tongue. ‘Oh God,’ she murmured under her breath, wondering how she was going to crawl out of bed. A tangle of memories fought their way into her consciousness. Dancing like a loon, drinking too much and … did she have sex with Ethan?
She raised her head from the pillow and a sledgehammer headache rained blows onto her temples. Clasping her head, she stumbled into the bathroom and washed down two painkillers with some water from the tap. Her reflection in the mirror conveyed that she looked every bit as bad as she felt. Her shower was not hot enough to wash away the searing embarrassment from the night before, and the memory of rebuffing Ethan returned. Jennifer leaned against the wall tiles as the water cascaded, relieved she made the right decision.
Her phone was thankfully free from missed calls or texts. At least she had had the hindsight to change to a late shift. There was enough time to pull herself together.
The water dripped from her hair as she pulled the towelling robe around her. A quick text exchange with her sister relayed that Josh was safe and well. She thought of her nephew, feeling the weight of responsibility. She was dealing with a serial killer. Why the hell was she messing around with some bloke she barely knew?
A text beeped to inform her that she had voicemail. Susie’s voice came breathy and excited down the line. ‘I’ve been hearing all sorts about you and Ethan last night, you little sexpot. Call me!’
Jennifer clasped her hand over her mouth as her stomach heaved. ‘Please no,’ she moaned from behind her cupped hand. Susie could spread rumour quicker than any tabloid. The phone lit up as Susie’s phone number displayed on the screen and her mobile played a ditzy tune in keeping with the caller. ‘Hello,’ Jennifer said, wincing as the cheery voice on the other end pierced her eardrums.
‘Morning! Or should I say afternoon? I hope I didn’t disturb you, but I couldn’t wait for the goss.’
‘I don’t know what you’re on about.’
‘Ohhh grumpy! Had a hard night have you?’ Susie chortled. ‘Hard being the operative word, ha! Now c’mon spill the beans, was he any good?’
Jennifer rubbed her forehead with the heel of her hand. There’s no point in being defensive, Jennifer thought, through the hammering pain in her temples. ‘Ah, you got me, what can I say?’
Susie giggled. ’Oh you lucky bitch, the only person leering over me was Greavsy. Ugh. Can you imagine it? Looming over you with those big sausage fingers? Not to mention anything else!’
‘I’d rather not,’ Jennifer said, her stomach lurching for a second time.
‘So go on then, tell all. Did you really shag in the PIRS room?’
Jennifer winced. ‘God no. We only had a snog. To be honest he’s a bit immature. Not my type.’
Sue snorted. ‘That’s not what Ethan’s saying, it’s all around the nick! They say it’s the quiet ones you have to watch.’
Oh crap, Jennifer mouthed to the phone. It was one thing getting the blame for something she had done, but this just wasn’t fair. Taking a deep breath, she spoke with as much composure as she could muster. ‘It’s bullshit. Honestly Susie, nothing happened.’
‘Relax,’ Susie said. ‘You’ll be old news by tomorrow. You know how these parties go, people are always looking for something to gossip about.’
Jennifer resisted the urge to fling her phone out the window.
By the time Jennifer walked in for her late shift she decided she’d had enough. Thoughts of her mother had filled her head on the drive over. Being a female police officer was challenging enough now, but it had taken real guts to make promotion in her mother’s time. If Elizabeth was alive now she’d give her a rollocking for letting things get the better of her. Jennifer felt her anger rise when she thought of every condescending remark, patronising look and muffled snigger she had been subjected to in the last year. She had once been the golden girl of Westlea CID, whose detection rate was the highest in the county. This person she had become since the enquiry was not who she really was. How had she been reduced to this? A nervous wreck obsessed with cleaning, while the town of Haven was being bled dry because the people that should care were too busy looking out for themselves.
Jennifer strode into the office, ignoring the raised eyebrows on the way in. Sliding the scarf from her neck, she hung it on the coat stand along with her jacket, while eyeing the DI’s office. The air was filled with the smell of stale coffee, body odour and the slight taint of dead mice, the scent of which had returned now that the fresh paint smell had evaporated. Susie caught her gaze and shook her head to advise against her visiting the DI.
Jennifer straightened her shoulders, knocking firmly on the door before walking in.
DI Allison glanced up from the paperwork that was spread across his desk among empty sandwich wrappers and drained juice cartons. Overtime sheets balanced on the edge, weighed down by a half empty coffee cup. Mould lilies floated on the surface of the brown liquid within.
‘Can you spare me a few moments of your time, sir?’ she asked, her feet planted firmly on the ground.
‘I’m quite busy as it happens. Is it important?’ DI Allison replied, sighing heavily.
Too right it’s important, Jennifer thought, walking towards the blinds. ‘Extremely,’ she said, tugging the handle to block out Susie’s gaze from the other side. ‘May I close these for privacy?’
By the time he had torn his eyes away from his paperwork they were already closed. He gave another harassed sigh and gestured at her to sit down.
Jennifer eyed the dilapidated chair piled high with folders. ‘If you don’t mind I’d rather stand. I’ve come to talk to you about my place on the team, and I want to know about the case involving Frank Foster and my mother.’ Jennifer folded her arms tightly across her chest as sh
e glared at her DI. ‘Sir, would you mind not rolling your eyes when I speak? I find it very disrespectful.’
DI Allison cleared his throat, a flush creeping up his skin. ‘I … I’m sorry, of course.’
‘To be honest, sir, I’m used to it. I’m bloody good at my job, but instead I get shafted day after day, and have my mental health questioned when I challenge anything.’
DI Allison frowned, huffing his words. ‘With all due respect …’
‘That’s what I’m trying to tell you. There is no respect. I was a good copper in Westlea. What did I get for taking that serial rapist off the streets? Shafted, that’s what. I’ve a good mind to leave this department and join a neighbouring force where my intuition is valued.’
‘Steady on Jennifer, what’s got into you?’
‘I’ll tell you what’s got into me. When I come to you for help, all you do is ask me about my counsellor, who I haven’t seen in months, by the way. Look at any team of coppers and you’ll see they’re all messed up in their own way. It goes with the territory. So why do I get singled out as some sort of crazy woman?’
‘I’m sorry if you feel that way but …’
Jennifer silenced her DI with her hand. ‘I know you think I’m out of order speaking to you like this, but how would you feel if it was you? I know you got my dad the sack, and I’m guessing it’s because you held a torch for my mum. I don’t hold it against you because I respect you as my boss. Why can’t you give me the same courtesy? If I was a bloke would you treat me the same way?’
DI Allison leaned forward in his chair as he intertwined his fingers. ‘Just exactly what do you want from me, Jennifer?’
‘Either you start using me effectively or I’m putting in for a transfer to another force.’
A ghost of a smile crossed DI Allison’s lips. ‘Seeing you like this, with fire in your belly; you remind me of your mother.’
Jennifer took a seat. ‘It’s been a long time coming.’
‘In that case, yes. And I think I owe you an apology …’
Jennifer exhaled in relief, ‘Sir, after the way I’ve just lunged at you I’d say we’re even.’
‘No, it’s only fair you know why I’ve been so off lately. It’s my son, he’s come back into my life ... I’ve had some concerns.’
Jennifer had known for some time of DI Allison’s estranged son, the one his wife had not yet discovered. ‘Oh. Have you told your wife?’
‘No, not yet. The thing is, you know him … it’s Ethan.’
Jennifer’s mouth fell open. Why hadn’t she seen it before? The same confident stride, the same strong jawline. Was that why he was so fascinated with her? Because she got more attention from his father than he did? ‘Oh. I see.’
‘Anyway it’s all sorted out now.’
Jennifer nodded, wondering if he had heard the rumours about them. If he had, she didn’t want to talk about it.
‘I know I’ve been a jack the lad in the past, but your mother … I genuinely cared about her …’ The DI said, his voice breaking off as he swallowed back his regret.
‘I promised her I’d look out for you, but I’ve taken that too far.’ He glanced out the window before bringing his attention back to her.
‘Anyway, no more excuses. I’ll tell you everything you need to know about Frank Foster.’
31 Chapter Thirty-one
PS Elizabeth Knight - 1992
Sergeant Elizabeth Knight nodded to her colleagues as she stood outside the interview room. The mention of Frank Foster brought with it the chilling memory of her visit to his flat, and she wished she had been allowed to bring a colleague to make up the numbers. His cold stare weighed heavy on her mind, and their encounter disturbed her sleep as unresolved questions whispered in the darkness.
Detective Sergeant Scott stroked his greying moustache as he briefed Elizabeth prior to the interview. It was a mannerism she recognised, one that meant he had a slippery fish in his grip; one he could not afford to lose. His cockney accent came in soft tones in the narrow hall leading to the pokey interview room. ‘The ‘softly softly’ approach won’t work with this geezer. There’s no point in stroking his ego either. He thinks he’s too good for the like of us. You go in there and act like you don’t give a toss, then get under his skin. I’ll be sitting out here, so any problems just shout, OK girl?’
Elizabeth nodded. As a uniformed sergeant it meant a lot to be entrusted with such an interview, although it was not as if they had much choice, given that Frank had insisted he would only speak to her. She peered through the open doorway at him. He was dressed more like a solicitor than a suspect. His blue shirt stretched over his broad shoulders as he sat with a face set in grim determination. Elizabeth took in the silver cufflinks, the polished black shoes. Even his thick black hair looked as if it had recently been cut. Frank had been ready for this day. Ready and waiting. Taking a deep breath, she entered the room.
‘Mr Foster, I’m going to launch straight into interview so we can record everything on tape, OK?’
Frank’s eyes lit up in recognition, and he cocked his head to one side. ‘Ah El-iza-beth, so good to meet you again. Please, call me Frank.’
‘As you wish.’ Elizabeth dragged the chair against the cigarette-cratered carpet, resting her notebook on the desk across from him. Frank’s presence filled the room, and the grimy fluorescent bulbs cast his skin in a yellowish tinge. Elizabeth cleared her throat. They were sitting too close together for her liking and she mentally worked out her exit strategy should things turn nasty. From the things Sam Beswick had said in his interviews, Frank Foster was not a man to be trifled with.
Elizabeth unwrapped a fresh set of tapes from their clear plastic packaging and activated the tape machine. She would get Frank to sign them at the end of interview and they would be sealed and exhibited for court. But only if there was a successful case to attach them to.
Introductions out of the way, Elizabeth spoke in cool authoritative tones, driven by the heartbeat racing in her chest.
‘Tell me everything you know about the death of Martina Jackson, also known as Tina Jackson.’
Frank cracked his knuckles as his face creased in a macabre smile. ‘She’s a whore and she’s dead. Is that enough?’
Elizabeth locked eyes, refusing to be stared down. ‘No, it’s not. I want you to start from the first encounter you had with Tina, right up until the last.’
‘Sure. The first time I met her I was just a kid. She had a real mouth. I remember her saying to me once, “come back when you know what to do with it.” I guess I did, because the next time I met her I fucked her good.’ He paused, taking in Elizabeth’s nonplussed expression. ‘I didn’t see her again until recently, when Sam brought her back to his place. I had a key to his flat and I let myself in, thinking he’d be coming back with some beers. I was surprised when I heard Tina’s voice when he got back. I didn’t want to spoil his fun so I hid in the bathroom. You know what it’s like when you’re that age, horny all the time.’ His face broke into a salacious smile.
‘And what happened next?’ Elizabeth said, dropping her gaze to the notepad.
‘They went to the bedroom, but Tina started mocking him, saying he wasn’t up to the job. Like I said, she had a big mouth. Next thing I know she comes into the bathroom effing and blinding about having a split lip. That’s when she saw me. Well, the old girl went crazy, screaming the house down. Sam grabbed her, there was a scuffle and somehow we got caught up in the shower curtain. Sam dragged her onto the bed, wrapping the curtain around her head. I told him to stop, but he wasn’t listening. He stuffed a pillow over her head and suffocated her. I didn’t think he had the balls.’
‘And what were you doing during all of this?’
Frank shrugged. ‘It wasn’t any of my business so I left him to it. He pulled a suitcase from the top of his wardrobe and said he was going to hide the body. That’s about the time the enormity of his actions hit him, because he started throwing up. I felt sorry for the ki
d, so I helped him get rid of her.’
‘How?’ Elizabeth said, inwardly thrilled with the admission.
‘We put her in the suitcase and I dragged it to my car. I drove to the Blakewater River and threw her over the bridge. It means Black Water. Apparently it’s a popular suicide spot.’
Elizabeth leaned forward to clarify the point. ‘So you’re telling me you weren’t responsible for Tina’s murder, but you did help dispose of the body?’
Frank nodded. ‘That is correct.’
‘Were you under any duress to do so?’ Elizabeth said, in order to negate any defences he might come up with later on.
Frank snickered. ‘From Sam? Don’t be stupid, he’s just a kid.’
Elizabeth frantically scribbled notes to help her keep track. She needed to get through as much as she could with him before examining his story for more detail. ‘What can you tell me about a Mr Michael Osborne?’
‘What do you want to know?’ Frank said.
‘What do you know about his death?’
Frank leaned forward onto the table and unconsciously Elizabeth leaned in to listen. Like a spider drawing in his prey, his eyes rolled upwards to greet hers, the corners of his mouth set in a ghoulish smile. ‘I killed the bastard,’ he whispered, drawing out his tongue and licking his lips.
Elizabeth’s felt the adrenalin rush as she sped through the caution. ‘You … you seem very calm about your admission, Frank. Why don’t you start by telling me everything you know?’
‘I knew this day would come. I just didn’t expect it so soon.’ Frank said, now rocking slightly in the chair. Pent up energy radiated from every pore and he seemed unable to keep still, even for a second. Hardly the type of person that could cope in the confines of prison.
‘Why did you kill Michael Osborne?’
‘He had it coming. Lots of people do. But you know that, don’t you?’ Frank said.
Elizabeth remembered DC Scott’s words and she reminded herself to play it cool. ‘I don’t know any such thing.’
Don't Turn Around: A dark, thrilling, page-turner of a crime novel (Detective Jennifer Knight Crime Thriller Series Book 1) Page 23