‘Maybe she called someone for a lift?’ Rogers suggested.
But Laura had already considered the possibility. ‘We know she didn’t call anyone, from her phone records. Her last internet activity was just before she left Georgie’s house, and then there’s no other text messages sent or received, or phone calls made or received, and then the phone signal just disappears at twenty-past. So, what was she doing for all of that time?’
‘Maybe she’d arranged for someone to collect her, and she was waiting for a lift,’ Rogers suggested.
‘But who?’ Laura countered. ‘Certainly not her parents, and her boyfriend was in London.’
‘I wouldn’t be so quick to rule out her parents,’ Humberidge interjected. ‘Barry said he was out with friends on Friday night, but that’s not what one of his friends says.’
‘What?’ Kate blurted, before she could stop herself. ‘But we’ve already checked his alibi. Two of his friends confirmed he was with them playing pool and drinking until the early hours.’
Humberidge fired her a knowing look. ‘I know all that, but a third friend who was at said engagement, told me off the record that Barry was not there.’
‘Who?’
‘My source doesn’t want to be named, as he doesn’t want to be seen to be the one to let the cat out of the bag.’
‘Humberidge, we don’t have time—’
‘Seems Barry has been having it away with one of his former employees behind Val’s back. His mates all know about it and have frequently provided him with an alibi so he can see this other woman. My source says Barry contacted them all and swears blind he was with his mistress all night, until he returned home, and asked them to stick to the story so Val won’t find out he’s been playing away.’
‘Who’s his lover?’
‘The guy didn’t want to give me a name, but did say it was someone Barry used to work with. I’m still digging, but I’ll find out who. I told you there was more going on with them than they were letting on. Of course, the question is, if he wasn’t where he said he was, can we really be sure he was with that other woman all night, and didn’t stop by to collect Daisy?’
‘That’s a big leap.’
‘Not as big as you thought though, hey, ma’am?’
Kate could feel her cheeks starting to redden. ‘Okay, keep digging, but be discreet, Humberidge. We don’t want to add to Val’s heartbreak for no reason. As for the rest of you,’ Kate continued, ‘I want you to go home and spend what time you can with your families. Do your best to switch off all thoughts about Daisy Emerson, just for the night, and try to relax. Tomorrow, we’ll be back on it.’
As the team pulled apart, computers were turned off and coats grabbed, Kate remained where she was. She’d been so sure that Barry and Val Emerson were innocent bystanders in the unfolding circus, but could she have been wrong about Barry?
‘You should take your own advice, ma’am,’ Laura offered, tying a scarf around her neck.
Kate smiled warmly, appreciating Laura’s concern. ‘You’re probably right. I’ll just finish up here…’
‘Well, don’t stay too late. And don’t forget to eat! Even the world’s best detective has a proper meal every now and again, you know.’
Kate gave her a tired smile which ended the moment she felt her phone ringing in her pocket.
‘Tara? What’s wrong?’ But she could barely make out the words through the sobs. ‘Just tell me where you are, and I’ll come at once.’
34
Pulling into the car park of the fast-food restaurant on the outskirts of Southampton, Kate quickly fired a message off to Ben, apologising that she would be late for dinner. Inside the restaurant’s main window, Kate could see Tara staring forlornly into the milkshake in front of her, her face in stark contrast to the excitable and vibrant girl she’d first met last summer.
Kate knew deep down she should call the supe and ask him to meet her here, but she wanted to give Tara one last chance to do the right thing. Tara nodded as Kate approached, but made no effort to smile.
Sliding in behind the table, Kate passed Tara a paper napkin to dab her eyes with. ‘What am I doing here, Tara?’
Tara picked up the napkin and wiped her swollen cheeks as fresh tears fell. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t know who else to call.’
‘Why are you so far from home?’
Tara stared out of the window as she tried to blink away the tears. ‘I went home after college, and the place was empty, but when Mum came back at lunchtime she had another go at me about staying out. She accused me of wasting my education, of trying to throw away all the hard work she and Dad have done for me. I tried to explain but she wouldn’t let me get a word in edgeways.’
Kate was sure she was the last person who could judge another mother on her parenting technique. ‘I’m sure it’s only because she’s worried about you,’ she tried, weakly.
‘She’s the reason I’m not right,’ Tara spat back bitterly.
Kate was tempted to remind Tara that her mum wasn’t the cause of Tara’s current predicament, but opted for a more civil approach. ‘You need to try and put yourself in your mum’s shoes. She loves you and she’s worried about you and fear makes people behave in strange ways.’
Tara’s head snapped round, rage in her eyes. ‘If she loved me, she wouldn’t have locked me in my room!’
Kate looked surprised. ‘She did what?
Tara’s gaze returned to the window. ‘She was going on and on, saying how I would be lucky to get into any university if I didn’t get my head down, and I’d had enough, so I told her I was going to my room and slammed the door. The next thing I know, I hear a key turning. What kind of person does that?’
One who is terrified of losing their daughter, Kate wanted to say, but she could already see the hurt in Tara’s eyes. ‘What happened next?’
‘I banged and banged on the door, but she refused to open it. She even put on the radio to drown out my screams. So I escaped through my window.’
‘The window? You’re on the second floor!’
Tara gave Kate a half smile that said it wasn’t the first time she’d left the property undetected and Kate tried not to think too hard about the risk to the little life now growing inside Tara.
‘That still doesn’t explain how you wound up all the way out here. We’re miles out of the city.’
‘I ran from the driveway and caught a bus to town. I decided to take your advice and called the father. He works in town, so I phoned him and told him we needed to meet. I figured it was about time I told him. I know he has his own flat, so I thought if I spoke to him about what’s going on with my parents, he’d let me crash at his for a bit – I didn’t want to keep bothering you, because I know it’s awkward for you and my dad – but he refused to take my calls at first. So I went to where he worked and kept calling until he came out to meet me. He drove us here so nobody we knew would see us.’
Kate wasn’t sure she wanted the answer to the next question, but her imagination was already performing somersaults. ‘How old is he?’
‘What difference does it make?’
‘You said he works in town, has a car and his own flat. I’m guessing he’s not someone you met at college.’
‘He’s in his twenties, so not that much older than me.’
‘You’re seventeen, Tara.’
Tara glared at her. ‘And?’
Kate bit her lip. ‘Is he married?’
‘No! What do you take me for?’
Kate breathed a sigh of relief. ‘What happened when you got here?’
‘He drove us through the drive-thru, and then parked up. I told him we should go inside, but he had this… this look of revulsion on his face, like he didn’t want to be seen dead with me. And then when I explained what had happened with Mum, he told me I should have an abortion. He just came out with it: you should have an abortion. Like it was so simple, like it was his choice. What an arsehole!’
Kate was tempted to agree, but
stayed silent.
‘I was so angry that I told him I’d decided to keep the baby and would be naming him on the birth certificate, and then he’d have to support the two of us. He called me a stupid little child, shoved me out of the car and left me stranded. I never should have involved him in the first place. I’m better off without him in my life.’
Kate’s anger simmered. ‘Where does this guy work?’
Tara frowned. ‘Why?’
‘I want to have a word with him.’
Tara reached out for Kate’s hand. ‘No! Listen, I wish I’d never told him. I don’t want him involved anymore. Besides, I’ve decided I’m going to have an abortion anyway.’
Kate’s heart sank.
‘It’s the right thing to do,’ Tara continued. ‘I’m not ready to be a mum, and it would mess up me going to university, and moreover I won’t have to tell my parents about it.’
And there it was. Kate winced.
‘Have you discussed this with any of your friends?’
‘Uh, no, I don’t think so.’
Kate couldn’t help but think of Georgie’s previous statement that Daisy couldn’t be pregnant because she was saving herself. ‘But don’t you have a best friend who you share everything with?’
‘Not this. You and… him are the only ones I’ve told.’
Kate reached for the milkshake and took a sip. ‘Whatever decision you reach, it affects more than just you. I know it’s your body, and therefore your choice, but if you were my daughter, I’d want to know about it and to help you reach a decision having discussed all your options. Please, Tara, don’t shut out your mum and dad. Despite everything, they mean well, and you really should be open with them first.’
‘They don’t need to know. And I’m sure they would agree that it’s the best decision anyway. I’ll make an appointment with my GP in the morning and take it from there.’
‘I’m begging you not to rush into anything without speaking to your parents. I’ll drive you there now, and I’ll stay with you for moral support.’
‘I was hoping you’d let me stay at yours for tonight; once I’ve had it done, I’ll go home, and everything can return to normal.’
Kate could feel Tara’s eyes burning into her, but she had to remain firm. ‘No, Tara, I’m sorry, but I can’t keep this from them any longer. Grab your coat, I’m taking you home.’
*
The gravel crackled beneath the Audi’s tyres as Kate parked on the large driveway in front of the detached property.
‘You don’t have to come in,’ Tara repeated. ‘I’ll tell them.’
But Kate could sense the lie. ‘They need to know that you’re safe and I think it’s probably time I came clean with your dad about where you’ve been the last couple of nights.’
Tara sighed in frustration as she pushed the car door open and headed to the porch. She’d barely put her key in the lock when the door was opened and the supe appeared, dressed in chinos, shirt and sweater, pulling Tara into his arms. ‘Oh, thank God you’re safe.’
Kate locked the car, the bleep causing the supe to open his eyes and register her presence.
‘Kate? What are you—’
‘Tara phoned me,’ Kate responded. ‘I said I’d bring her home.’
The supe released his daughter who hurried inside and hugged a tearful Judith, saying how sorry she was. ‘I appreciate you bringing her home, Kate. You know what teenagers can be like.’
‘Think nothing of it, sir. I’m glad she felt able to reach out to me.’ Kate continued to watch Tara, willing her to tell her relieved parents exactly why she had left. But as Kate waited, Tara’s lips remained sealed.
‘Was there anything else, Kate?’ the supe asked, curious as to why she hadn’t moved.
Tell them, Kate urged herself, but the words wouldn’t leave her lips.
Tara turned to face her, shaking her head just enough so Kate would see it.
‘I’ll see you in the morning,’ Kate finally exhaled, angry at her own weakness.
‘Thanks again, Kate,’ he said, as he closed the door.
Getting back into her car, she was relieved to see Ben had messaged to tell her he would slow down the cooking until she arrived. Maybe Laura was right: what she needed was a night off.
35
ELEVEN DAYS MISSING
‘Morning, ma’am,’ Patel said, with far too much cheer for this time of the day.
Slumped in her chair, struggling not to yawn, Kate looked up at him. ‘It’s not even half past six, what are you doing here?’
‘Same thing as you, I presume,’ he said, switching on the coffee maker. ‘You want a drink?’
She nodded, handing him her mug as he approached.
‘There’s some pastries in my bag, if you fancy?’ he said, busying himself at the machine. He really had become her rock since joining the team. Methodical to the last, and with a moral compass that pointed true north, he was like her Jiminy Cricket.
‘Great minds must think alike,’ Laura cooed, as she entered and removed her coat and scarf. ‘Morning, ma’am. You on the drinks, Sarge?’
Patel grabbed Laura’s mug from her desk in answer.
‘Don’t you both have beds you could still be in?’ Kate said, genuinely surprised to see them so early.
‘We can’t let you have all the fun,’ Laura said, dragging over her chair and resting a fresh pad of paper on her lap.
‘Help yourself to a croissant, Laura,’ Patel said, placing three mugs on Kate’s desk.
Laura’s eyes widened with excitement, as she reached for his satchel and unzipped it. The smell of fresh pastries filled the air around them, and even Kate couldn’t resist revelling in the buttery warmness for just a moment.
‘All right,’ Kate said, dabbing pastry flakes from her lips, ‘start with telling me what Nowakowski’s former crew told you when you stopped by the prison.’
Patel reached for his notebook. ‘I spoke to the leader of the group initially. Career criminal called Ash Thomas. You’ve probably not heard of him, ma’am, as he’s been inside since the failed armed robbery at the security depot. He was a right piece of work, though, back in the day; tattooed from head to toe.’ He sighed at the memory. ‘Anyway, it seems prison life agrees with him. He’s certainly not the thug I remember.’
‘In what way?’
‘He’s found religion. Reckons he’s repenting his sins and wants to devote the rest of his life to God.’
‘Bet he’s just saying that to get in with the parole board,’ Laura added, sceptically.
Patel shook his head. ‘Straight up. I spoke to the prison warden and he said Ash has been on his best behaviour for the past twelve months, spending part of every day in the library, either reading or helping fellow inmates to study. It’s quite the switch from all accounts.’
‘What did he have to say about Petr Nowakowski?’
‘He went quiet for a bit and then told me he regretted his troubled past every day and is grateful that Petr helped him find the right path.’
‘Oh, please!’ Laura exclaimed.
‘I disagree,’ Patel continued. ‘He seemed genuine. I don’t think he had any involvement in Nowakowski’s death.’
‘What about the rest of the group?’ Kate pressed. ‘There were four plus Petr and Ash, right?’
‘I managed to speak to one of the others who was locked up in Parkhurst too, but he claimed not to have heard anything about Petr since his arrest.’
‘Don’t tell me he’s turned over a new leaf as well?’
Patel snorted. ‘No, he was very clear about what he’d like to do to Petr, but I doubt there is much he could have done from the inside. Ash was the leader of the group – the one with all the contacts.’
‘What about another crew in the city? If he was desperate for money, maybe he fell back into old ways.’
But Patel shook his head. ‘I had a quiet word with a friend in Hendrix’s team. She said Nowakowski’s name hasn’t come up in any conversa
tions on the street. They keep detailed files on known associates of all gangs in the city, and he’s not been named since his arrest. I think his sister was right: he’d been making an effort to keep his nose clean.’
‘Quinlan mentioned the cruise company sacked him for some sort of impropriety,’ Kate told them. ‘There’s something about a convicted armed robber managing to secure a job on a cruise ship that doesn’t sit right with me. Given their clientele, would they really take a chance?’
Laura lowered her croissant. ‘You reckon he lied about his conviction?’
Kate nodded. ‘More than likely, and then maybe someone found out and that’s why they let him go. Can you follow up on that, Laura? Go down to the head office when they open and ask to see a copy of his job application.’ She turned back to Patel, as Laura answered a ringing phone. ‘Have the vehicle recognition team managed to track Chris Jackson yet?’
Patel nodded, firing up the nearest workstation. ‘Had an email overnight. Two seconds and I’ll read it to you.’
‘Ma’am,’ Laura interrupted. ‘That was a call from downstairs. Apparently someone decided to put a brick through the front window of Neil Watkins’ home last night.’
‘The gardener?’
Laura nodded. ‘They scrawled the word killer on his driveway and then hurled the rock, apparently. Uniform are on the scene now, but his mother Imelda is demanding to speak to you. Blames the news report about the foot and thinks her son is being targeted.’
Cold Heart: Absolutely gripping serial-killer fiction Page 17