He passed her a fresh mug of coffee. ‘You don’t need to ask. We’ve only got a couple of hours until we have to release Jackson.’
‘Forget about Jackson. We have bigger fish to fry.’
Patel gave her a curious look, but followed her out of the room, as she carried the box of papers down to the interview room.
*
Imelda Watkins looked far from impressed to find herself seated across the table from Kate and Patel. The duty solicitor who had been called to attend the police station didn’t look too pleased by the early wake-up call either.
‘The first time we met,’ Kate began, ‘you told me that people have been taking advantage of Neil’s kind nature all his life; that people assumed because he struggled to communicate, there was something wrong with him. And then when those vandals defaced his property you told me you blamed yourself for putting him in harm’s way. I thought you meant by helping him get the job at the school, but that wasn’t what you meant, was it, Mrs Watkins? What you meant was you blamed yourself for asking him to clean up your mess. The only thing I don’t understand is how you wound up in such a mess to begin with.’
‘I don’t understand what you’re talking about, or why you have detained me—’
Kate raised a hand to cut her off. ‘We have your computer, Mrs Watkins. We found the conversations you conducted online with Maria Alexandrou and Petr Nowakowski. Unless you’re going to pretend that Neil was the individual offering them ten thousand pounds each a kidney? I’ll be honest with you, Mrs Watkins, I can’t prove for certain that you are Guardian Angel, and that it wasn’t Neil involved from the outset. My team are currently requesting access to your bank account information, which should quickly establish whether you have been paying out large sums of money to desperate people, so it’s only a matter of time until we know everything.
‘But,’ Kate paused, ‘I don’t believe you will allow Neil’s name to be dragged through the mud any more than it already has been. Why did you involve him?’
The duty solicitor leaned in to talk to her client, but Imelda brushed her away. ‘I plan to sue you for wrongful arrest and I will be having a very stiff word with your Superintendent. I am a grieving mother! You cannot arrest me and start throwing accusations.’
Kate removed the lid of the box she’d brought into the room, pulling out the pages and dropping them onto the table in front of Imelda. ‘These are printed copies of what we have recovered from your hard drive, Mrs Watkins. More than a dozen conversations with individuals in which you – or Neil – clearly offer money in exchange for their organs. Just because you deleted it from your computer, doesn’t mean it disappears forever. This alone is sufficient to allow us to turn your world upside down. It’s over, Mrs Watkins.’
Imelda’s eyes fell on the pages.
Kate softened her tone. ‘I don’t believe you did this by yourself; neither you nor Neil could have surgically removed the kidneys adequately enough for transplant. Who are you working with?’
Imelda looked up and met Kate’s eyes and something in her broke. ‘Can I see him? I’ll tell you everything if you allow me to see my son one final time, to say goodbye.’
‘I give you my word.’
Imelda nodded in acknowledgement. ‘For a long time I refused to accept that what had happened at St Bartholomew’s had anything to do with Neil. I suppose he thought he could do it there because the old building was going to be torn down. He probably didn’t think that anyone might go inside in the meantime. I should have been clearer in what I asked of him.’ But then she shook her head. ‘No, what I should have done is not involved him at all. That day in the school when you were talking to him, as we left he told me he was going to tell you what had happened, and I told him he couldn’t as we’d both get into serious trouble. I swear I was less worried about myself than I was about him. He couldn’t have coped with going to prison, not understanding why. It was my fault, but I thought that if I could just keep him quiet, everything would blow over. I knew if you found any of his DNA at Abbotts Way that we could explain why, given he used to tend the gardens there, but I could see he was struggling with something. You need to understand that Neil was only acting upon my instructions, and that he did not kill either Petr or Maria.’
Kate’s eyes widened at the mention of their names. ‘You admit to knowing Petr Nowakowski and Maria Alexandrou, then?’
Imelda nodded. ‘Yes, I knew them. I only met them the one time when I handed over their payments, so you can imagine how shocked I was when Petr contacted me days after the surgery to complain of abdominal pain and nausea. I knew he couldn’t go to an NHS doctor for care because then the whole situation would be exposed, so I contacted the men responsible for the operation. I told them they needed to help him, but they told me they had what they wanted and it was up to me to deal with him. I didn’t know what to do. They said if I didn’t take care of matters they would sever our partnership and make Neil suffer.
‘So, I invited Petr to my house. I was going to call a doctor and just hope for the best, but before I got the chance, he died, right there in front of me. I swear I didn’t kill him, but I fear my indecision indirectly led to his passing.’
‘Who are your partners?’ Kate asked.
‘We never use real names, for everybody’s protection.’
‘But how did you become mixed up with them?’
Imelda closed her eyes. ‘It was only after my Graham passed that I learned just what a terrible situation he’d left us in. He used to deal with all the finances, and I assumed everything was okay until I discovered the truth. The bank was threatening to sell our family home. I tried selling the place in Abbotts Way, but nobody wanted the dilapidated building. I was about to lose everything, and I knew Neil would need continued financial support. I was desperate, and that’s when I stumbled across a couple of emails Graham had received shortly before his death. He was a retired surgeon, you see, and they were asking if he would be interested in performing surgeries off the books. They were offering enormous sums for what amounted to a few hours’ work.
‘All I did was vet the seller, check their medical history and then organise where the exchange would take place. I was just the go-between. And it was going well: we were helping to save lives. People can live with one kidney, so why not allow those willing to sell one do so. Petr and Maria were handsomely rewarded for their donations, and those kidneys went on to grant a new lease of life to those in need. I know what you must think of me, but I really never thought anybody would suffer because of what we were doing.’
‘Until Petr contacted you.’
Imelda wiped a stray tear from her eye. ‘When my partners threatened mine and Neil’s lives, I felt like I had no choice but to cover up the crimes. I panicked and told Neil that I needed him to dispose of the body: burn it, bury it, or whatever it took. I never had any idea he would take Petr to Abbotts Way and dismember him.’
59
Kate watched Imelda carefully. ‘What did you tell Neil about Petr?’
She stared off into the distance. ‘I told him that Petr worked for some bad men and had come to the house to hurt us, but had died suddenly. I said we couldn’t go to the police because they would arrest me, and then he would be on his own. I felt so bad lying to him. But he hugged me and said he would do whatever was necessary to keep me safe. I told him he needed to get rid of the body. I never realised he would chop up their bodies, but then he does read a lot of crime and detective stories, so something in one of them must have inspired him. He said he’d taken care of it, and I was desperate to believe him and move on.’
‘What about Maria Alexandrou?’
Imelda’s voice cracked under the strain. ‘Ah, that poor girl. She had such high hopes for the future. She messaged me, saying she had a fever and couldn’t keep food down, as Petr had said. I knew I only had a small timeframe to get her treated, so I reached out to my partners again, and I begged them for help; I didn’t want Maria to die too. But
again they told me just to deal with it. The threat from before still hung over me, and I had no doubt they would follow through.’ She paused and blew her nose. ‘So, I told Maria to come to my home and that I would try to help her. I researched symptoms and suspected she had contracted septicaemia. And then I saw what a botch job they’d done with her stitches, and suddenly I realised exactly the sort of people I’d been dealing with. She had no memory of where they’d taken her or who had operated, only that she’d been met by a van, and had woken up in a hostel.’
‘Did she tell you where the hostel was? Maybe there is CCTV nearby.’
But Imelda shook her head sorrowfully. ‘I insisted she stay with me until she felt better, and she seemed to be improving, but then last Thursday morning I couldn’t wake her and I realised I’d failed again. I swore from that moment I would have nothing more to do with them, but I still needed to deal with Maria… Neil had done a good job with Petr’s body – or so I thought – and I asked him to help me again. He was on his way to work at the school when he called round. I never imagined he would take her in with him, or what would unfold thereafter. I-I-I never should have left it to him.’
‘What about when we sealed the place off? Did you never suspect what he’d done?’
‘Why would I? He told me it was taken care of and I believed him. As far as I knew, you’d found Daisy’s foot. It’s not like you or your team have been particularly forthcoming with information. Until you came to my house and started asking about Abbotts Way and Chris Jackson, I hadn’t connected the dots.’
Kate paused. ‘After I visited you yesterday, did you confront Neil about what had happened?’
Imelda’s head dropped and she wiped at her eyes with the tissue. ‘He’d just come in and I sat him down, and asked how he had disposed of Petr and Maria. Until the moment he spoke I was desperately hoping he would say he’d buried them, or he’d hired someone to deal with it, but he told me… about… oh God, my poor boy. What did I put him through?’
Although she knew it would be an eternity until Imelda forgave herself, Kate couldn’t help but empathise with the position she’d found herself in. ‘What more can you tell me about these partners of yours?’
Imelda’s face shot up, gripped with panic. ‘You have to find them. They won’t hesitate to come for me when they hear about my arrest. They’d rather I die than give them up. You have to promise to protect me. I’ll tell you everything I know, but you have to take into account the huge risk I’ll be taking.’
A knock at the door interrupted proceedings. Pausing the recording, Kate exited the room and found Laura in the corridor.
‘Ben just called,’ Laura advised. ‘They’ve just discovered two compost bags stuffed with Petr and Maria’s bodies buried beneath the sand where Watkins jumped.’
‘What about Daisy?’
Laura shook her head. ‘No sign. They’ve checked the caves in the area, but she’s not there.’
*
Imelda practically leaped out of her skin as Kate burst back into the interview rom. ‘Where is Daisy? Where would he take her?’
Imelda raised her arms defensively. ‘I-I-I don’t know. I swear to you. Do you really think I want to see another innocent person come to harm?’
Kate’s cheeks burned with the frustration of being so close to an answer, yet no nearer to actually discovering where Daisy was being held. ‘You must be able to think of somewhere he would have taken her? Do you own any other properties?’
‘Apart from Abbotts Way, no.’
‘What about where Neil grew up? Did he always live in Southampton?’
‘We bought the bungalow in North Baddesley when Graham left the service. Neil didn’t know any other home. The only places I can think of are his place in Shirley or the school.’
‘We have covered every inch of the maisonette, and there’s no sign that Daisy was ever there. And she’s not at the school. Come on, Mrs Watkins, you need to think long and hard. Where would he take her? A favourite place? He buried Petr and Maria at Old Harry Rocks, but Daisy isn’t there. Did he have any other favourite spots?’
‘I-I-I don’t know…’
‘You told me he loved going to the seaside, but couldn’t swim. Did he have any one particular place he would go to? Somewhere he wouldn’t be disturbed? Somewhere he could hide a vulnerable child for nearly two weeks without being caught?’
‘No, no, no!’ Imelda screamed, her face awash with tears. ‘I just don’t know. I never used to ask him about where he went. So long as he came home and had had a good time, I didn’t worry about it.’
‘But there has to be somewhere. Somewhere he felt safe; somewhere he thought she would be safe,’ Kate paused, her voice rising. ‘He never told you about Daisy interrupting him at Abbotts Way because he was terrified you’d tell him to kill her too. That’s why he took Daisy, Mrs Watkins. He wanted to keep her safe from you and your partners.’
‘I’m so sorry.’
‘We don’t have time for apologies. Help me find her.’ A fragment of memory flashed behind Kate’s eyes. ‘In your conservatory, there was an image, a photograph of you and your late husband by some beach huts.’
‘And?’
‘Where was that picture taken?’
‘Um…’
‘Come on, Mrs Watkins. Neil would have looked at that picture every day of his life. A picture of the two people he cared for the most, in a place where they looked so happy. Where was it taken?’
‘Mudeford… Mudeford Spit… but—’
‘Would Neil know where the hut was?’
‘Well, yes, he would, but—’
Kate picked up her phone and dialled Laura. ‘I want units to check every beach hut at Mudeford Spit.’
‘Wait, detective, you don’t understand,’ Imelda persisted. ‘We only rented that beach hut, and it was nearly forty years ago. I doubt the original hut is still there. He wouldn’t…’
‘Mudeford’s only a forty-minute drive from here; seems close enough for him to visit and check on Daisy every day. You said yourself, nobody really goes to the beach at this time of the year, so he wouldn’t have been disturbed.’ Kate nodded at Patel. ‘Get her back to the cells and meet me in the car park.’
60
‘The hut in the picture was right on the sand,’ Kate told the three units gathered with Laura and Patel. ‘Mrs Watkins was right, the original hut will be long gone by now, but that doesn’t mean Neil wouldn’t have looked for something similar. Again, the hut in the image was painted blue, but we need to check every hut. Initially, I want you to knock on every door and listen for movement inside. People aren’t allowed to live in beach huts, so if you hear anything I want you to call it in immediately. There are over a hundred to check. Start at the opposite end of the beach and work back towards the car park. Laura, Patel and I will start this end and work towards you. Let’s find our girl.’
The group disbanded.
‘I spotted CCTV in the beach car park,’ Patel commented as he zipped up his coat. ‘Should be able to confirm if Watkins’ van was here.’
‘Let’s find her first,’ Kate replied, unable to keep the concern from her voice. If they didn’t find Daisy here, there was a chance she would never be found. Not that she needed to tell Patel and Laura this; they both already knew how high the stakes were.
Jogging along the pathway down to the beach, Kate sent Patel to the left where half a dozen huts stood, boarded up and padlocked for the winter. Meanwhile Kate and Laura ducked to the right, with Kate taking the row of huts on the sand, and Laura heading to the row directly behind. Kate’s memory of staying in a beach hut as a child was of a rickety old shack, not much larger than a garden shed. But these huts looked big enough to sleep a couple, were freshly painted and all had power cables leading inside.
Kate’s heart raced as she mounted the stairs and thumped her fist against the wooden boarding, calling out Daisy’s name. Laura’s and Patel’s voices carried on the wind. Pressing her ear aga
inst the wood, Kate strained to hear any sound over the crashing of the waves behind her. If they had no luck hearing Daisy’s desperate pleas, they would need to make contact with the owners of the huts and ask for them to be unlocked.
Thirteen days locked in a hut: no light, no fresh air, and no human contact other than with her captor. Even if they managed to find Daisy alive, there was no way of knowing what state she would be in.
They had to keep going.
Moving to the next hut, Kate hammered again. ‘Daisy? Daisy, can you hear me? This is the police, you’re safe now.’
Laura’s words echoed in the distance.
The next hut along, still silence. Kate looked off into the distance. She desperately hoped the uniform units had reached the end and were making their way back. No word on the radios yet.
Onto the next hut. ‘Daisy? Daisy? This is the police. Make a noise if you can hear me.’
And then there was a noise. Faint. Somewhere nearby, but not this hut.
Kate ran to the next hut, and banged again, straining to hear anything else. Was it just her imagination?
Onto the next hut, daring the sound to grow louder, and not certain it wasn’t the racing rhythm of her own heart.
And there it was again: a persistent banging but barely audible over the sound of the water.
‘Ma’am?’ Patel asked breathlessly as he arrived next to her.
She shushed him. ‘Can you hear that?’
He cupped his ears and closed his eyes. ‘I can’t hear anything but the sea.’
Was it just Laura’s feverish banging on the next row over?
Avoiding the next hut, Kate raced up the steps and listened again.
‘I can hear it,’ Patel suddenly declared. ‘It’s coming from just up here.’
Again skipping a hut, Kate suddenly found herself at a hut painted sky blue, with white shutters pulled down and a newly fastened padlock hanging down. Thumping the boarding Kate called out Daisy’s name, and the banging was reciprocated.
Cold Heart: Absolutely gripping serial-killer fiction Page 29