Cold Heart: Absolutely gripping serial-killer fiction

by Stephen Edger

  44

  Kate abandoned her car right outside the entrance to the Mottisfont National Trust site. Behind her, Laura and Patel’s squad car was coming in fast, and beyond that at least two more vehicles.

  Forcing her way to the front of the queue at the sales desk, Kate slapped her ID on the window of the ticket both and demanded to speak to whomever was in charge.

  ‘I-i-if you would go to the back of the—’ the young man behind the glass said.

  ‘There isn’t time,’ Kate interrupted. Realising she wasn’t going to get any traction out of the kid, she called out. ‘I need a manager and security. NOW.’

  A woman in glasses wearing a bright red fleece appeared from nowhere, a look of confusion on her face. ‘Can I help?’

  Kate fixed her with an urgent stare. ‘Are you in charge?’

  The woman nodded, looking increasingly alarmed as Laura, Patel, Humberidge and Freeborn gathered behind Kate.

  Kate passed the woman the profile shot of Jackson. ‘We believe this man entered the park this morning and we need to apprehend him urgently. What kind of security do you have around this place?’

  The woman steered Kate away from the queue of customers who were now muttering in shocked whispers. ‘We have CCTV up at the main house, restaurant and at the café, but the park is spread out over several hundred acres, and we don’t have the facilities to monitor everything.’

  ‘The CCTV: that’s monitored somewhere?’

  ‘Yes, we have a security office at the rear of the main house where all the feeds go.’

  ‘Good. Laura, go with this lady to the security team and have them go back to the moment Jackson’s card was used to pay, so we can be certain he’s on site.’ She turned to the manager. ‘Do you have a map I can use to direct my team?’

  The woman reached behind the desk where the young man was doing his best to serve the next customer while eavesdropping on the unfolding scene. ‘Here you go,’ she said, unfolding a thick paper pamphlet.

  Kate spread the map flat. ‘Okay, what have we got?’

  The manager leaned over and pointed. ‘This is where we are now. Visitors can go in any direction and take any path they choose, but the most common are up and to the north-east point which runs along the river.’ She moved her finger over the map to show where she was indicating. ‘Or, for those who come to look at the main house, it can be accessed heading north along this pathway, avoiding the wooded area. From there the pathway is clearly marked to the chapel, café and gardens to the west of the site.’

  ‘But realistically, our guy could be anywhere on this map?’

  The manager nodded.

  ‘Okay,’ Kate sighed. ‘Not ideal, but we’ll have to make it work. Laura, get onto the CCTV and let us know if you spot him or what direction he might have been heading in. Patel, you also head up to the main house along the pathway, but bend off towards the gardens. Ewan, you and I will take a side of the river each. And that leaves Humberidge to wait here at the entrance in case he leaves before we catch up with him.’ She turned back to the manager. ‘There are no other exits, right?’

  ‘The perimeter is fenced off, but if someone was determined to leave, then…’

  Kate wondered whether she should call for backup, but there was no way they’d be able to cover every possible exit, even with the entire force surrounding the estate. She would just have to make do with what they had.

  ‘This man,’ the manager began nervously. ‘Is he dangerous? Should I warn my staff to look out for him?’

  ‘Please,’ Kate nodded. ‘Get a description out to all of your team and ask them to notify us the second they see him. But they are not to approach him. Is that clear? I also want you to temporarily close the park, and encourage as many of your visitors to leave as possible.’

  *

  ‘I’m at the security station,’ Laura said breathlessly into the radio. ‘One of the guards is going to look back at the earlier footage to see which way Jackson went after paying, while the other guard and I look at the current footage.’

  ‘Keep us posted,’ Kate said, as she crossed the bridge to the opposite side of the river, and proceeded along the hard ground, past the occasional patch of ice where muddy puddles had frozen over. Over the other side of the water, Freeborn was now moving in line with Kate, with both scanning their eyes over the wooded areas beyond the pathway.

  In her years since moving to Southampton, Kate had never visited the Mottisfont site, but as she saw the occasional dog walker and single mother struggling to manoeuvre a pushchair through the wild grasses, she couldn’t help but think how Chloe would probably enjoy a trip here. But why had Jackson come here? He’d been off the radar since Friday night, so to suddenly use his credit card and draw attention to his movements was either incredibly naïve or maliciously calculated. Given the temperature and the fact most children were at school, the site was relatively quiet, but was that the attraction? With so much natural woodland and unkempt heath in the vicinity, it would be easy for someone to come in and dump all manner of things undetected.

  The thought sent a shiver through Kate.

  The River Test, running forty miles from Ashe to its estuary in Southampton, bisected the Mottisfont estate, essentially cutting a third of the land from the rest, save for the couple of footbridges allowing visitors to cross.

  Maybe he’d come here to dump parts of the bodies he’d chopped into the river? In a bag and with just the right weight, it would make the short journey to Southampton Water in a matter of hours, were it would be lost forever.

  But why draw attention to himself by using a credit card and not cash?

  ‘Ma’am,’ Laura’s voice squawked over the radio. ‘I have him on screen. It’s definitely him. Jackson is on the site. Over.’

  Kate’s pace increased subconsciously. ‘Anyone spotted him yet? Laura, can you tell us what he’s wearing? Over.’

  ‘He’s in a large khaki-coloured coat, ma’am, hanging down past his thighs. Beneath the coat he’s sporting a grey woollen pullover, and his jeans are either navy blue or black. It’s difficult to tell from the video. Over.’

  ‘All units, bear in mind he may have ditched the coat. Laura, anything else we should look out for? Over.’

  ‘He had a rucksack on when he paid. The strap is black, but I cannot see the colour of the main body of the bag as it isn’t in shot. Over.’

  ‘Which direction does he take when leaving the entrance? Over.’

  ‘Can’t be determined from this camera, ma’am. Checking for him on the five cameras inside the main house now. Over.’

  Kate silently cursed, desperately hoping he hadn’t already slipped out of their clutches.

  ‘Nothing to report here. Over,’ Patel offered. ‘Do you want me to wait by the gardens or keep looking? Over.’

  ‘Wander the area, but don’t go too far. Over,’ Kate called back, as she reached the opening to the final bridge. Beyond it, the path cut away to a small clearing. Kate signalled for Freeborn to stay put until she’d checked it out. The clearing led to a small hut, which was empty, and then off further into woodland. Kate did her best to look beyond the trees, but she couldn’t see any movement. Leaving the clearing, she began to cross over the bridge, telling Freeborn to make his way back along the opposite side, when they passed each other midway.

  And that’s when she saw him.

  Bold as brass, maybe a hundred yards further up the bank, heading straight towards them, his khaki-coloured coat billowing in the wind and the satchel strapped to his back.

  Kate froze, grabbing Freeborn’s arm. ‘Pretend we’re talking about something,’ she whispered as loud as she dared. ‘Act casual, and whatever you do: do not look around.’

  Freeborn’s eyes widened as he continued to look away from where Kate was staring in her periphery.

  ‘What do you want to talk about?’ Freeborn asked out of the corner of his mouth.

  Kate lowered the volume of her radio, willing Jackson to move
closer so they could intercept him unawares. If they gave him any reason to suspect, she knew he would run.

  The wind continued to blow ferociously around them, but it was like he was moving in slow motion; Kate feeling every single second of the wait for him to get close enough for them to spring into action. She didn’t dare message the others to confirm his sighting, in case he overheard and panicked.

  ‘Just a little closer,’ she whispered under her breath. And then she set off, striding down the footbridge, and marching straight towards him. He smiled affably as he made to move past her, but as he passed by her, she grabbed his arm, yanking it behind his back, pushing her foot into the back of his knees, sending him hurtling to the muddy bank.

  ‘Hey, what the…?’ he managed to stammer, before Kate wrapped the cuff tightly around his wrist.

  ‘Christopher Jackson, I am arresting you on suspicion of the murders of Maria Alexandrou and Petr Nowakowski. You do not have to say anything, but it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioned something which you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence. Do you understand?’

  ‘Murder? What the hell are you talking about? Who are you?’

  But Kate wasn’t listening. Securing his second wrist, she hoisted him to his feet, and waited for Freeborn to grip the other arm, before they triumphantly marched their suspect back along the river bank.

  45

  Tapping her hands against the steering wheel as she drove back to the station, Kate’s mind was already racing with the actions the team would now need to take to ensure they had the evidence required to charge Chris Jackson.

  He certainly hadn’t been expecting to be apprehended; that much was clear from his reaction when she’d grabbed his arm and sent him crashing to the ground. As they’d walked him back towards the waiting transport van, he had threatened to sue for wrongful arrest, until she’d reminded him that it was safer to remain silent until seeking legal advice. He hadn’t uttered a word after that: was that a sign of a guilty conscience, or was he just being shrewd?

  The tyres whooshed through the piles of slush gathering at every kerb side and Kate needed the car’s heater firing at the windscreen to keep it from fogging up. She desperately wanted to sit in on the interview, to watch Jackson crack, and to be there when he finally answered the most pressing question: where is Daisy? But the next few hours needed someone headstrong to coordinate, and both Laura and Patel were experienced enough to deliver what was needed.

  Kate was eager to call for the search of his home as soon as she was back at the office, but she didn’t want to send the team in without direction. They needed to be efficient here, and target specific items: phones, computers, tablets, and any kind of cutting apparatus he could have used to sever the arteries to the heart so Ben could run a comparison. The receipt for the handheld power saw discovered at the school would be ideal, but unlikely. But they needed to know exactly what had been going on first: how and why he chose his victims, where he’d held them. Most importantly of all, they needed to know if he had Daisy, and where she was. Or, if they were already too late.

  The Emersons would need to be notified that someone had been arrested in connection with Daisy’s disappearance, but Kate hoped to delay that conversation until they had formally charged Jackson and knew where she was.

  The supe would want to be updated as well, but again, he had enough on his plate, so she would defer telling him until the raid on the premises was underway.

  ‘When it’s time, I want you to let Patel lead the interview,’ Kate said, as she indicated at the roundabout. ‘He is calm and methodical, but you’re great at reading body language. I want you to watch him like a hawk. You know the kind of tells we’re after. Then once the first round of questions are complete and we move to disclosure of our evidence, return to those sensitive areas and press again. And again. We want it all on record so it can be used in court if necessary. But – and I can’t stress this enough, Laura – make sure you do everything by the book. I don’t want this bastard slipping through our fingers on a technicality.’

  ‘Oh, don’t worry, ma’am, we’ve got him. Nobody is going to let him get away with this, least of all me.’

  Kate’s fingers continued to dance on the wheel. Today was a good day.

  *

  ‘This is where the hard work really starts,’ Kate reminded the team as they stood around the picture of Jackson, slapping each other on the back and exchanging congratulations. ‘I know you’re all eager to get on, so we’ll keep this brief. Laura and Patel will be busy interviewing Mr Jackson, when he finally stops gassing to his solicitor – always a good sign when they’re paranoid enough to have a solicitor on call at short notice. Anyway, I want Humberidge running things at the property. Work with SSD to secure any blood, hair and tissue samples. Bag up all electronic devices, address books, maps, and also check the garden for any recent disruption. I know the cold weather won’t make it easy, but this is vital.’

  Humberidge nodded at her.

  ‘We secured his van at Mottisfont this morning and SSD have promised to rush through the processing of both vehicles. He’s in custody now, so we have twenty-four hours to secure what we need to charge him. The clock is ticking, people. Let’s make every second count.’

  The crowd dispersed and Kate was about to stop by the supe’s office when her desk phone burst to life. She answered it to hear the familiar voice of the front desk constable. Her heart skipped at the prospect of another the package.

  ‘I have a Barry Emerson in reception, ma’am, asking to speak to you urgently.’

  ‘Tell him—’

  ‘He says he wants to make a complaint about one of your team, and that if you won’t come and speak to him he wants me to call Detective Superintendent Williams.’

  Kate rolled her eyes, this had to be about Humberidge speaking with his mistress and Kate really didn’t need the supe being dragged into things right now.

  She sighed. ‘Tell him I’m on my way down and stick him in one of the soft interview suites.’

  *

  ‘And if your team had spent more time looking for my daughter instead of snooping around in my private life, then maybe she would be home already,’ Barry Emerson shouted.

  He’d been laying it on thick since she’d stepped into the room ten minutes ago.

  ‘You have to understand, Mr Emerson,’ Kate tried again, before he cut her off for the third time.

  ‘Twelve days she’s been missing! Twelve bloody days! And you still haven’t a clue what happened to her or where she is.’

  ‘I assure you, Mr Emerson, we are doing everything—’

  ‘I suppose I should have expected this,’ he spat. ‘Putting a woman in charge.’

  Kate flared with anger and she slammed both hands on the desk, standing and leaning towards him. ‘That is enough, Mr Emerson. You have no idea how hard my team have been working on this case over the past week, how much time with their own families they have given up to work tirelessly on this investigation. When the victim’s father lies about his whereabouts on the night his daughter went missing it wastes our valuable time and sets off alarm bells. I wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t check that he wasn’t in some way connected to the disappearance.’

  Kate took a deep breath and lowered herself back into the chair, knowing she’d overstepped the mark. He stared wide-eyed back at her, clearly not used to having people stand up to him.

  Kate offered out her palms passively. ‘It is none of my business who you choose to carry on with behind your wife’s back. I’m not a marriage counsellor, I’m a detective. From what I’ve been told, Miss Oliphant has corroborated that you were with her all evening, and given what’s happened this morning, I’m inclined to accept that you had no involvement with Daisy’s disappearance. I think it’s best if we both draw a line under this mess and move on with finding Daisy.’

  He narrowed his eyes. ‘What happened this morning?’

&
nbsp; ‘We’ve made an arrest, but I can’t discuss anything with you until we’re sure we’ve got it right and all the evidence stacks up. I promise I will be in touch with you and Val as soon as I have something I can share.’

  ‘The man arrested in Romsey earlier?’

  ‘Wait, how did—’

  ‘The radio news reported a large police presence at Mottisfont this morning.’ His hand shot up to his mouth as his brain made irrational calculations. ‘Oh God, was she there? Has he buried her there?’

  Kate had already said too much, and wasn’t about to make matters worse by continuing. ‘Mr Emerson, all I can tell you is we have arrested a man this morning in connection with Daisy’s disappearance, but as of now we still do not know where Daisy is. Please don’t read anything into that. We are still treating Daisy as a missing person and striving to do whatever we can to bring her home alive to you.’ She stood, hating herself for the slip. ‘I’ve really said too much already. Please, Mr Emerson, go home and wait for me to contact you.’

  Leading him back to the front desk, Kate bumped into Patel as she was heading up the stairs back to the incident room. ‘Jackson’s solicitor has said he’s ready to be interviewed, ma’am. Laura’s setting up the room now.’

  Kate upped her pace, determined to get into the viewing suite and see just how their suspect would play it.

  46

  Kate blew on the top of the coffee that Patel had left for her in the observation room; he was beginning to know her better than she knew herself. On the screen before her, Jackson was holding his face, both elbows pressed into the table, while the grey-haired solicitor next to him idly tapped his fountain pen against his own notepad.

  Laura offered Jackson and his solicitor a hot drink, but the solicitor declined for both, muttering how his client was keen to get matters underway as quickly as possible. With the introductions made for the purposes of the recording, Patel kicked off by asking Jackson if he knew why he’d been arrested.