by J. P. Carter
But what?
She updated the team before heading over to Camberwell to talk to the rough sleeper. They were all just as confused as she was by the latest turn of events.
‘We’re trying to track down Gavin Pope to question him again about his relationship with Slater,’ she said. ‘But he’s not at home or answering his phone. So I want us to throw everything at trying to find him. Meanwhile, the homeless man we’ve been looking for has finally turned up so DC Sweeny and I are going to Camberwell now to have a chat with him. He’s back on one of his regular plots near The Falconer’s Arms. It might well be a waste of time, but there’s a chance he saw our kidnapper coming and going between Monday and Friday while Jacob was locked up in the pub cellar. If so, he may be able to provide us with a description.’
Anna then asked if a forensics team had visited Roy Slater’s house yet and was told that they hadn’t.
‘I wouldn’t bank on them finding anything else when they eventually do turn up,’ DI Benning said. ‘Me and Detective Prescott searched it thoroughly and the only things we came across were Jacob’s phone and wallet.’
Anna nodded. ‘In that case there are several questions we need to find the answers to. Was Slater looking after those objects for an accomplice? Or did someone who knew he was a suspect plant them there for us to find? And where the hell is Jacob’s rucksack?’
CHAPTER SIXTY-EIGHT
Presenter: ‘This is the BBC news at one o’clock … A man has been arrested in connection with the murder of police firearms officer Barry Noble. Officer Noble was stabbed to death last night when he answered the door to his house in Fulham.
‘The twenty-nine-year-old man being questioned has not been named, but it’s believed he lives in the same area of London.
‘Officer Noble shot and killed a woman during an armed raid in Balham six days ago, and it was this incident that sparked the riots. Scotland Yard has insisted that it was an accident but an internal inquiry was launched. Meanwhile, the Metropolitan Police Commissioner, Gary Trimble, condemned the killing during a press conference, which has just ended.’
Commissioner: ‘This was a savage, unwarranted attack on a man who devoted his life to protecting the people of this great city. His wife and children have been left devastated and we will do everything we can to ensure that the person responsible for this heinous crime will not escape justice.’
Presenter: ‘Commissioner Trimble also responded to criticism that the force had been ill-prepared and ill-equipped to respond to the scale of the riots that have rocked the capital over the past week.’
Commissioner: ‘There are indeed lessons to be learned from what is happening. And I’m sure that our politicians now accept that in a city the size of London it is grossly irresponsible to continue cutting back on police numbers and resources. These riots clearly demonstrate that law and order can only be maintained if there is sufficient commitment and investment.’
Presenter: ‘The Commissioner also hit out at social media companies for allowing their platforms to be exploited by those who are trying to marshal support online for the riots.’
Commissioner: ‘There’s mounting evidence that criminal gangs are brazenly encouraging people to descend on specific targets, which include shopping areas. One Twitter post that went viral this morning named a high street and said that it was full of shops waiting to be ransacked. And another Tweet pointed out that the riots offered a fantastic opportunity to those who wanted to make a lot of money just by turning up.’
Presenter: ‘As that press conference was taking place there were fresh outbreaks of violence in town centres across London, including Clapham, Eltham, Brixton, Notting Hill and Vauxhall. More from our reporters …’
CHAPTER SIXTY-NINE
The mention of more trouble in Vauxhall caused Anna to panic.
DC Sweeny was driving so she took out her phone and speed-dialled Chloe’s number.
She suddenly regretted her decision to leave her daughter at home alone. What the hell had she been thinking?
But when Chloe answered on the fourth ring, she quickly put her mother’s mind at ease.
‘It’s quiet outside and the street is empty,’ she said. ‘I can hear sirens but they sound a long way off. And the people next door have already been in to check on me.’
‘That’s a relief,’ Anna said. ‘What are you doing?’
‘Having something to eat. I haven’t long been up. And I’m OK, so don’t worry.’
‘I’ll try not to. Just don’t forget what I said about staying indoors, and phone me if for any reason you get scared.’
As they approached Camberwell, it was strange seeing that things had almost returned to normal. Traffic was moving and there were pedestrians on the streets. A lot of the shops were boarded up either because they’d been vandalised or because the owners had decided not to open them.
The route to the café took them past The Falconer’s Arms. The police and forensic officers were long gone and it was back to being a derelict building that nobody was paying any attention to.
The café was just around the corner from it, and as they pulled up outside there was no sign of any rough sleepers.
‘I expect the owner did as we suggested and invited him inside,’ Sweeny said.
Anna’s phone rang as she was getting out of the car. It was DI Walker with some news about Gavin Pope and his wife.
‘We’ve solved the mystery of why they’re not at home and haven’t been answering their phones,’ he said. ‘Turns out they’ve been to visit his parents who live down in the New Forest. The house is in an area with no mobile signal. They’re heading back now and we’ve arranged to talk to them. Meanwhile, we haven’t come up with anything concrete that implicates them in Jacob’s abduction.’
‘That doesn’t mean they weren’t involved, so let’s pursue them until we’re sure,’ Anna said.
‘Will do, guv. Have you arrived in Camberwell yet?’
‘Just. The roads were pretty clear so we didn’t have any problems.’
‘And have you touched base with the homeless guy?’ Walker asked.
‘We’re about to,’ she said.
*
There were only four people inside the café and it was obvious to Anna right away who it was they had come to see.
He was sitting at a corner table tucking into a plate of egg, chips and baked beans.
Sweeny spoke to the café owner who told them the guy’s name was George Rigby and he didn’t know that the police wanted to speak to him.
‘He’s a pleasant enough bloke,’ the owner said in a thick South London accent. ‘He’s been hanging around these streets for as long as I can remember. And this ain’t the first time I’ve let him have a meal on the house.’
As Anna approached George Rigby it occurred to her that he appeared typical of the almost four thousand homeless people who were rough sleeping on the streets of London.
He was bundled into a dark overcoat and had lank, shoulder-length grey hair that clearly hadn’t been washed in weeks.
When Anna reached the table he looked up at her and smiled, revealing a random scattering of yellow teeth.
‘Do you mind if I join you, Mr Rigby?’ she said, pulling out a chair. ‘And before you answer, I should tell you that I’ve asked the owner over there to feed you until you’re full and then to give you a goody bag when you leave.’
He stared at her for several beats, his eyes shot with blood. Then he spoke in a voice that was gravelly from too many fags and poor health.
‘Suit yourself,’ he said. ‘Are you some kind of social worker then? Is that it?’
Anna took out her warrant card and showed it to him.
‘I’m a police officer,’ she said. ‘Detective Chief Inspector Anna Tate.’
At that moment Sweeny joined them at the table.
‘And this is my colleague Detective Constable Sweeny,’ Anna said.
Rigby’s eyes stretched wide as he looked from one
to the other, clearly confused.
‘So what am I supposed to have done then?’ he asked, sitting back in the chair.
Anna smiled. ‘Absolutely nothing as far as I know, Mr Rigby.’
‘Then what’s this about? Why are you being nice to me?’
An empty ache touched the pit of Anna’s stomach suddenly. The man opposite her looked so pitiful, and she couldn’t help feeling sorry for him. She guessed he was in his fifties or early sixties but she really couldn’t be sure.
She watched him shove a chip into his mouth and wondered when he’d last eaten a proper meal.
The café owner came over with a tray of teas and placed three mugs on the table. Anna waited until he’d gone before answering Rigby’s question.
‘We want to ask you about The Falconer’s Arms pub,’ she said. ‘As you probably know there was a serious fire there on Friday.’
He nodded. ‘I heard that a lad was killed. The bloody estate agents or owners should have made sure nobody could get inside. But I didn’t start it if that’s what you think. I haven’t been there for over a week now – I’ve been kipping in the doorway of an empty shop over near the leisure centre instead.’
‘We know the fire had nothing to do with you,’ Anna said. ‘A mob of youths turned up there and one of them threw a petrol bomb.’
He gritted his teeth. ‘Bloody animals. It’s hard enough finding somewhere safe to bed down without them causing all this trouble. I’ve been living on the streets for four years and I’ve never known anything like this.’
‘Neither have we, Mr Rigby,’ Anna said.
She paused then while he ate another chip and washed it down with some tea.
‘We’ve been told that you used to sleep in the doorway of The Falconer’s Arms,’ she said.
‘That’s right, and I’ll be going back there soon I hope. It’s set back from the road so I don’t keep getting disturbed. And it feels like home as well because many years ago I worked there behind the bar.’
Anna was taken aback. ‘We didn’t know that, Mr Rigby.’
He shrugged. ‘Well you do now. Best job I ever had. But then fifteen years ago me and my wife, who’s now dead bless her, moved to the other side of London so I had to pack it in. Shame it closed down. I reckon it was the best boozer around here.’
Anna reached in her pocket for the old photo showing the group gathered in the pub.
‘I downloaded this from the internet,’ she said, handing it to him. ‘It was taken twenty-five years ago and shows some of people who worked there then. Do you recognise any of the them?’
He examined it carefully through half-closed eyes.
‘This was before my time,’ he said. ‘But yeah, I knew about half this lot.’
Anna pointed to the blonde woman. ‘What about her?’
He nodded. ‘Yeah, that’s Hilary. Nice lady she was. In fact, I saw her son recently. He came up to me a little over a week ago and paid for me to stay in a hotel for a fortnight.’
Anna felt the air crash out of her lungs and it was Sweeny who responded first.
‘Is that really true?’ she asked him.
‘I ain’t got no reason to lie,’ he said. ‘He told me that the pub owners had made complaints about me but if I disappeared for a while it would blow over and I could then come back. He said he didn’t think it was fair and he felt sorry for me. So on the Saturday before last he picked me up in his car and drove me to this little place in Blackfriars. He paid them in advance for bed and breakfast for two weeks and gave me some cash to keep for spending. Now don’t get me wrong. The hotel is a pile of crap, but I wasn’t complaining. I had a warm bed to sleep in and cooked breakfasts every day for a week.’
‘I thought he paid for two weeks,’ Sweeny said.
‘That’s right, he did. But the manager kicked me out because I spent the money I was given on booze, got drunk and chucked up in reception. So I found myself back on the streets sooner than I expected. I thought it best to steer clear of the pub so that’s why I ended up near the leisure centre.’
Anna leaned over the table, ignored the awful smell that assaulted her nostrils, and said, ‘I need to be clear about this, Mr Rigby. You’re saying that Joseph Walsh, Hilary’s son, paid for you to stay in a hotel so that you would move away from The Falconer’s Arms.’
He frowned. ‘I don’t know anyone named Walsh.’
‘We’re led to believe it was Hilary’s married name. Before that she was Hilary Metcalfe.’
Rigby stuck out his lower lip and Anna could see that he was becoming even more confused.
‘We’ve found out that Hilary died five years ago from cancer,’ she said. ‘Joseph then sold the house they lived in near here and moved to Australia.’
Rigby shook his head. ‘You’ve got this all very wrong, Detective. I may have lost a lot of things in recent years but not my memory. First of all, Hilary never married anyone named Walsh. I met her husband plenty of times when he came into the pub. It’s where they first got together. And their son has always been known as Joe, not Joseph. I also know for sure that Joe didn’t sell up and move away. He still lives around the corner in Devlin Road. In fact you might even know him.’
‘What makes you think that?’ Anna said.
‘Well because he’s a bleedin’ copper.’
‘Are you serious? What’s his name?’
‘Benning. Joe Benning.’
CHAPTER SEVENTY
It felt to Anna as though she had been punched in the stomach.
She exchanged a look with Sweeny, whose mouth hung open as though waiting to trap a fly. Neither of them could believe what Rigby had just told them about DI Benning. It was ridiculous, obscene, too far-fetched to be taken seriously.
Surely.
‘Why are you looking at me like that?’ he said to Anna. ‘I’m telling you the truth. Ask Pete if you don’t believe me.’
‘Who’s Pete?’ Anna said.
He gestured towards the café owner. ‘That’s him. Joe is a regular in here. I know because when he sees me sitting across the road, he always makes a point of crossing over and giving me some change. He’s a generous bloke.’
Anna sat still for a few moments as the blood beat in her ears. Then a thought occurred to her and she took out her phone while Sweeny got up to go and speak to the café owner.
Anna tapped ‘Jacob Rossi press conference’ into the Google search engine, having remembered seeing Benning stage a presser the morning after the boy went missing.
She found it in seconds and held her phone up for Rigby to see.
‘Is this the man you’re talking about?’ she said.
He nodded without hesitation. ‘That’s him. That’s Joe. He’s always been pleasant to me – treated me like a proper human being, unlike most people.’
Anna’s mind spun wildly as she tried to make sense of what she’d been told. But it didn’t make sense. How could it? Benning was the detective who led the investigation into Jacob’s disappearance. Anna recalled him being visibly shaken when he walked into the cellar and saw that the lad was dead. He was then desperate to stay with the case when MIT took it over. Anna just couldn’t imagine that he had written the note that was sent to Jacob’s dad. She was reminded now of those hateful words.
I’m sick of seeing you boast about your perfect life on social media, Rossi. You’ve had it too good for too long and that’s not fair. You act as though you’re special and more deserving than the rest of us. So I’ve taken your son because I want to see you suffer. And I’m sure you will when you’re sitting at home wondering what I’m doing to him. Pleasant dreams, Mr big shot TV man—
Her mind screamed and her heart raced. And questions came crashing down on her.
Did it all start when Isaac Rossi abandoned Joe and his mother all those years ago?
Did Joe find it impossible to forgive his father?
How much damage did it do to him psychologically when his father married and Mark became Isaac’s stepson
?
And did he become insanely jealous when Mark’s career took off, thanks in part to his stepfather’s TV production company?
Was that why he hated Mark so much and wanted to see him suffer?
Anna was still deep in thought when Sweeny returned to the table with the café owner in tow.
‘Mr Fowler has just confirmed what we’ve been told,’ she said. ‘He’s met Joe Benning many times.’
‘That’s true,’ the man said. ‘He usually pops in once a week. It used to be a lot more often before he was transferred from Peckham police station to Bromley. I’ve always felt sorry for the poor bugger.’
‘Why is that?’ Anna asked.
‘Well he’s had a tough life. He’s talked to me about it a few times. His daughter was killed by a reckless driver aged just six. Then his wife left him and since then he’s not had much of a life outside his work. To top it all, a few months ago he was diagnosed with some kind of dementia.’
‘Benning told you about that?’
‘He came in here straight from the hospital because it was too early for the pubs, and he was really upset. I asked him what was wrong and he broke down, which I didn’t expect. The place was empty so I sat with him and we talked about it.’
‘See I told you both that I didn’t make it up,’ Rigby said as he continued to stuff his face, oblivious to the huge bomb he’d just dropped.
Anna thanked them both and signalled for Sweeny to follow her outside.
‘Were you aware that Benning has dementia, guv?’ Sweeny asked when they were stood out on the pavement.
‘I was, but I was sworn to secrecy,’ Anna said. ‘It’s early onset so he was carrying on working. But he was aware that this case was likely to be his last and I thought that was why he was so passionate about sticking with it.’
‘Well he did a good job of hiding his condition from the rest of us. I would never have guessed, but then I suppose he hasn’t been around us long enough for it to have become obvious.’
Anna reached for her phone and called DI Walker.
‘Something’s happened and I need you to run some checks for me,’ she said when he answered. ‘But first is DI Benning there with you in the ops room?’