‘Well, I’m sorry, Dr Hayden isn’t here, and hasn’t been for about a week now,’ she admitted. ‘He phoned in sick, early on the morning of last Thursday, because he’d been up all night with stomach trouble. He said he was likely to be off for a few days and asked me to cancel all his patients. Sometimes these attacks can last a little while.’
‘This has happened before?’ said Mariner.
‘Yes, he contracted some stomach problem working abroad and gets these flare-ups from time to time. A few days at home and he’ll be right as rain.’
Mariner and Jesson exchanged a look. A man could do a lot in a few days. And this time Hayden had already been off the radar for a week. ‘In that case I’ll need his home address, please,’ said Mariner, frustrated by the setback.
‘I’m not sure that I can give you—’ she began.
‘Perhaps you’d be more certain if I charged you with obstructing a murder investigation,’ said Mariner, calmly.
‘I will just need to check with Mr Bloom,’ she said, flustered now.
Mariner waited patiently for her to return. ‘What’s he like, Dr Hayden?’ Mariner asked, when she’d returned and was looking up Hayden on their system.
Her face softened. ‘He’s nice,’ she said, handing him a printout of the address. ‘Got lovely manners, and he’s very popular, even though he hasn’t got much time for some of the clients. It’s like cats,’ she added, enigmatically.
Jesson saw Mariner’s blank face. ‘The more you try to get them to like you, the more indifferent they get?’ she speculated.
‘Yes, that’s right.’ The receptionist beamed.
‘I wonder if that’s how Leo Hayden likes his women in general,’ said Mariner, as, moments later, they left the building furnished with the man’s address.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Leo Hayden had a house on the edge of Solihull, where the streets were wide and tree-lined, and the properties large and sprawling. As they drove around the outer circle to get there, Jesson dialled the phone number but there was no reply. ‘Too ill to get out of bed?’ she wondered aloud.
‘Get some uniformed back-up,’ said Mariner, ‘just in case Dr Hayden decides to put up a fight. And ask Charlie to meet us there with the search warrants.’
The house was a perfectly symmetrical rectangle, like a child’s drawing of a house might be, with a two-car garage attached to the left-hand side. It sat behind high walls, complete with wrought-iron gates and a security pad.
‘Not very welcoming,’ remarked Mariner as they parked and got out of the car. He pushed the buzzer, but it produced no response. ‘Any ideas?’ he asked Jesson, studying the rows of numbers to determine which, if any, were faded from use.
‘Shame we don’t know his date of birth,’ she said. ‘Is it worth contacting the clinic again?’
On the margins of his line of vision Mariner sensed a movement and looked up to see a middle-aged woman watching him from a ground-floor window of the house next door. He lifted his hand in acknowledgement. Embarrassed at having been caught out, she seemed about to withdraw before thinking better of it and tentatively responding. Her garden was open plan, so Mariner walked up to the front door, which opened the moment he got there. ‘Detective Chief Inspector Mariner,’ he said, showing his identification.
‘Oh.’ She hadn’t been expecting that. ‘I hope you don’t think I was being nosey . . .’
‘Not at all,’ said Mariner, not entirely truthfully. ‘No harm in being aware of what’s going on around you. We’re looking for your neighbour, Dr Leo Hayden.’
‘Oh, he’ll be at work,’ she said confidently.
‘Not today,’ said Mariner. ‘And we can’t seem to raise him from the house. I don’t suppose you would know his security code?’
‘You could try 2-4-7-1,’ she said. ‘It was the code Mr and Mrs Hayden, senior, used. They gave it to me, just in case something should happen and I needed to get in.’
‘Thank you,’ said Mariner. ‘We’ll try that.’ A thought occurred to him. ‘I don’t suppose you hold a spare key to the house too, do you?’
She went off to fetch it. ‘I did tell Leo I’d still got it, when he moved back here a little while ago. I offered to give it back to him, but he said I may as well keep it for now.’
‘It’s a good idea,’ said Mariner, pleased and disconcerted at the same time. If Hayden was their washerwoman, would he have been careless enough to leave a spare key with the neighbours? ‘When did you last see Dr Hayden?’ he asked.
‘Oh, not for a few days now.’ She thought for a moment. ‘Actually, it would have been last week sometime — Thursday, I’m sure of it. One of those tree surgeon people came to the door, ridiculously early, and I saw Leo leaving in his car to go to work. I gave him a little wave, but I’m not sure if he saw me.’
‘What time would this have been?’
‘Perhaps about half past eight.’
‘Where are Mr and Mrs Hayden, senior?’ asked Mariner.
‘Oh, he passed away some years ago now, and then shortly afterwards she went to live with her sister in South Africa. The house stood empty for a while. We thought it would go on the market, but then Leo came back.’
‘Is Leo the only child?’
‘Yes, they had him quite late in life, but he’s done ever so well for himself.’
‘Except that Hayden didn’t go to work on Thursday morning,’ said Jesson, as she and Mariner let themselves in through the electronic gates.
‘But if he is our man,’ said Mariner, ‘why the necklaces? What’s the letter P got to do with anything?’
‘Search me,’ said Jesson. ‘Middle name?’
As a formality Mariner rang the doorbell and when, as expected, no one responded, they let themselves into the house. Though the rooms were spacious and the polished wood floors and Persian rugs spoke of wealth, the place had an air of careless neglect about it. The furniture was dated and the carpets threadbare in places, and Mariner guessed that Leo Hayden wasn’t much interested in his surroundings. He seemed to live modestly, the house felt cold and uninhabited. A vaguely unpleasant smell seemed to get stronger as they went further into the building.
They found Coral Norman lying sprawled face down on the floor of the utility room, with what looked at first glance like a pair of tights or stockings still wound around her neck, the ends trailing across the stone tiles as if they’d been artistically arranged that way. A large woman, she wore her grey hair cut short to the nape of her neck so that a dark purple stain of bruising could be seen radiating out from underneath the band of brown nylon. Squatting down, Mariner felt her wrist for a pulse, but her flesh was cold and as he got nearer, the stench became overpowering, forcing him to cover his nose and mouth with his hand. Her head was turned to the side, the eyes glassy, and from the side that rested on the floor, post-mortem lividity, where the blood had pooled, spread up into her face like a port-wine stain birthmark.
Jesson walked through from the hall, holding a beige leather handbag Mariner didn’t recognise. ‘This was hanging on a coat peg,’ she said. Opening it, she took out a purse and checked the contents. ‘Bank cards here for a Miss C. Norman,’ she confirmed. ‘And there’s a mobile phone.’
‘See if you can track down a next of kin,’ said Mariner, stepping away from the body. Taking out his own phone, he summoned scenes of crime and rang through to Superintendent Sharp. ‘We need to issue a nationwide alert for a Dr Leo Hayden,’ he said, ‘including ports and airports, though we may well be too late. He hasn’t been seen since around the time Dee Henderson disappeared and we’ve just found his cleaner strangled at his house. He’s dangerous so shouldn’t be approached.’
‘You think he might be our washerwoman?’ asked Sharp.
‘I’d say there’s a very good chance,’ said Mariner. ‘We’ve already identified the hospital as the probable contact point, and he’d have easy access to sheets and scrubs. If nothing else he’s got some explaining to do,’ said Marine
r.
‘Hello?’ Charlie Glover’s voice rang out, hollow through the empty house.
‘In here,’ Mariner called back, pocketing his phone and pulling on latex gloves.
Glover appeared in the doorway. ‘Oh, no,’ he groaned. ‘This is Coral?’ He handed Mariner the all-important signed search warrant. He’d also brought with him a couple of uniforms, so, while they waited for the SOCOs, Mariner had them conduct a basic search of the rest of the house. ‘We’re looking for any sign that Grace, Rosa or Dee has been here — and any indication of where Hayden might have gone,’ he reminded them.
Through the utility room Mariner took the access door that opened into the garage. It was whitewashed and spotlessly clean, tools arranged on wall brackets according to the outlined shape underneath. There was no car, but a muddy mountain bike hung from brackets on the wall. Taking out a polythene evidence bag, Mariner scraped some of the dried soil into it. ‘So where do you like to go mountain biking, Dr Hayden?’ he said to himself. ‘Pepper Wood, by any chance?’
Calling one of the uniforms over, the two of them set about searching the ground floor and outside the house for any kind of cellar or basement. But, if the house had one, they could find no obvious entry point. Next Mariner went back inside and climbed the stairs to the first floor. Charlie Glover was going through the wardrobes in what looked like the master bedroom, its king-sized bed unmade. Drawers that he’d already searched were still open, clothing spilling out.
‘If he’s gone away, he’s left a lot of stuff behind,’ said Charlie. He nodded towards an en suite. ‘And there’s a toothbrush and razor in there.’
‘He’s a doctor,’ said Mariner. ‘And he’s on call to the critical care unit. He might have had a bag already packed for that.’ Looking out of the window he saw that Stuart Croghan had arrived.
‘There’s this too.’ Leaving what he was doing, Glover took Mariner out onto the landing and pushed open the door to what was obviously a spare bedroom. In the middle of the room was an ironing board. ‘Might be worth taking a sample of his detergent,’ said Glover.
Vicky Jesson was sitting behind a desk in the study, poring over the computer. ‘Password protected, of course,’ she said. ‘As we might have guessed.’
‘Pleasing, though,’ said Mariner. ‘It might indicate that he’s got something to hide. Shut it down and we’ll get it back to Granville Lane for Max to have a look at. I’m trying to work out where Dee Henderson fits into all this. She knows the man, works with him.’
‘Do you think she could be involved?’ Jesson said.
‘As an accomplice, you mean?’
‘Why not? Think of Fred and Rosemary West.’
‘But their whole relationship was founded on shared deviancy that went back years. There’s nothing to suggest that Dee is that way inclined,’ Mariner pointed out. ‘There could be something between them, though. She could have eloped with him.’
‘What — and abandon her children without so much as a goodbye? That would be pretty unusual,’ said Jesson. ‘Hayden and Dee were working together on the Wednesday afternoon before she disappeared. Isn’t it more likely that she’d worked out what Hayden was up to, or even just noticed something about his behaviour that caused her to question him, or make some kind of comment? If Hayden is our washerwoman and he thought Dee was onto him, then he’d have had to do something about that right away.’
‘It would have been easy for him,’ Mariner agreed. ‘He could just have offered her a lift home.’
‘And Coral?’
‘Same thing. If we’re right about Dee, then Hayden did something with her during the night on Wednesday. He comes back here, having disposed of her or maybe even bringing her with him. Coral turns up first thing Thursday morning to clean his house and she sees or hears something that arouses her suspicion.’
‘But why leave Coral here and incriminate himself?’
‘He’s pushed for time,’ said Mariner. ‘And he’s got a nosey neighbour. On Thursday morning he’ll have wanted to keep up the pretence that he was going to work. And by now he might be panicking. Two people have already worked out what he’s up to. He needs to get away fast. Let’s see what Croghan has to say.’
‘What is it with doctors?’ said Jesson, as they descended the stairs.
‘Power,’ said Mariner. ‘It’s as simple as that.’
After allowing Stuart Croghan what he thought was a reasonable length of time with the body, Mariner could no longer resist returning to the utility room. ‘Is this the same person who killed Grace Clifton and Rosa Batista?’ was his first question.
Croghan’s response was typically measured. ‘Couldn’t say for sure, of course,’ he said. ‘Although it’s a death by asphyxiation, the MO is very different and she doesn’t fit the physical profile of your other victims, does she?’
‘We’re thinking she wasn’t part of the plan,’ said Mariner. ‘How long has she been here?’
‘Several days,’ said Croghan. ‘That’s about as accurate as I can be right now.’
‘Could she have been here since last Thursday?’
‘It’s possible. The ambient temperature is low, and it’s dry in here and very clean, but as you can tell, decomposition has already started.’
It was bad news. So far no passport had been found. If Hayden had made his escape days ago, he could be anywhere by now.
‘Do you think he brought the others back here?’ Glover said.
‘We can’t be certain until forensics have done their worst,’ said Mariner. ‘But if he can pick them up and get them into his car, why not? He can drive straight into the garage and from there bring them into the house unseen. Here he has everything at his disposal.’
On their way out, Jesson stopped by the door of the lounge. ‘Have you seen this?’ She went over to the baby grand piano. ‘It’s beautiful. Must be worth a fortune, and it’s just sitting here.’ Lifting the lid, she idly pressed some of the keys in a simple tune. ‘That’s it,’ she said, raising her head.
‘What?’ Mariner was at a loss.
She played the tune again. ‘It might seem a bit obscure,’ said Jesson. ‘But it’s the first thing my girls learned to play when they started piano lessons. It’s called Papa Haydn.’ She looked up at Mariner. ‘P for Papa?’
* * *
It was getting late and Mariner had a decision to make. Reluctantly he phoned Mercy. ‘There have been some developments at work,’ he said. ‘Would you be able to meet Jamie from the bus tonight and get him something to eat?’
‘No problem.’ She was as laid-back as ever. Mariner felt like a traitor.
He returned to the Gannow with a further warrant granting him access to Hayden’s personnel record at the clinic and some time to look over it. This time he was shown into the modern, well-appointed office of the clinic’s director, Alexander Bloom, which looked out over expansive gardens and a lily pond with benches arranged around it. Two of them were occupied by people who could have been staff or patients — it was hard to tell the difference.
‘What can you tell me about Leo Hayden?’ Mariner asked, sinking back into one of the very comfortable easy chairs that faced Bloom’s desk.
‘We’re very fortunate to have him working here,’ said Bloom. ‘He’s good at his job and he gets results, although I’m not sure that his heart is always in it.’
‘How do you mean?’
‘I’ve always had the impression Leo doesn’t like working here much. He makes it clear that he values his work at the military hospital more highly, to the extent that he can occasionally be openly disparaging about some of our patients.’
‘So why does he stay?’ Mariner asked.
Bloom turned his palms upwards. ‘We pay him extremely well. Our patients have a lot of ready cash at their disposal. Leo thinks that’s half the problem. They are spoiled and self-indulgent, with too much money and too much time on their hands, and actually that’s what makes them so unhappy.’
‘Is he r
ight?’ asked Mariner.
‘About some of them, undoubtedly. They enjoy the luxury of being able to pay someone to listen to them. I think after some of the situations Leo has worked in, he finds that difficult.’
‘I understand he’s worked in Africa,’ said Mariner.
‘Primarily in conflict zones, helping traumatised victims,’ said Bloom. ‘He came here from the Congo, where he was working with women and children who had suffered terribly. They’d been beaten and raped and witnessed their loved ones slaughtered. I can see Leo’s point of view. Much of what we do here must seem trivial by comparison. But I think for him it’s a means to an end, an easy way of making money that will enable him to continue with what he sees as more worthwhile work. I think he has plans to return to Africa at some point soon.’
‘Does he ever make his views known to the patients?’ Mariner asked.
‘He’s a professional,’ said Bloom, ‘and behaves accordingly. He keeps his personal feelings in check.’
‘Does he like that, being in control?’
‘It’s not unusual in our profession. After all, what we’re often trying to do for our patients is create order from chaos.’
‘I understand Dr Hayden has some ongoing physical health problems,’ Mariner said.
Bloom inclined his head. ‘He contracted an intestinal problem when he was on the African continent. I’d never come across it before, but it flares up from time to time and when it does, I understand it’s quite debilitating.’
‘So he requires regular time off?’
‘It strikes perhaps every couple of months.’
‘And he’s on emergency standby for the QE too,’ Mariner said. ‘What happens if he gets a call to go there?’
‘His list here is cancelled, and if there’s anything urgent, I or one of the other staff pick it up. It was a condition Leo insisted upon, but we happily agreed to it.’
‘How well do you know Leo personally?’ asked Mariner.
‘Hardly at all. He’s a quiet man — keeps to himself. I have to admit to being shocked by this turn of events. It really doesn’t add up that it’s Leo you’re looking for.’
Missing Lies (Reissue) Page 21