Bye Bye Baby

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Bye Bye Baby Page 30

by McIntosh, Fiona


  ‘Yes, it is. How do you know me?’

  ‘It’s DI Kate Carter here. I work closely with Jack. I answered the phone on Friday when he was running late to the theatre.’

  ‘Oh, okay. Thanks for remembering me.’

  ‘I hear he made it and the show was terrific.’

  ‘It was the fourth time I’d seen it but don’t tell Jack.’

  Kate gave an artificial smile. ‘I’ll keep your secret, I promise.’ Then decided she might as well dig around a bit, now that she was so deep in the shit already. ‘He’s actually a bit concerned that someone was coming down from your apartment level today,’ she added.

  ‘Oh?’

  When Sophie didn’t elaborate, Kate made a hasty retreat. ‘I’m sorry, that’s none of my business. We just happened to be talking this morning and it came up.’

  ‘But what do you mean? Should I be worried?’

  ‘No, truly, it’s probably nothing.’

  It seemed Sophie wasn’t going to let it go. ‘How on earth did my apartment come up in conversation?’

  It was her own fault for mentioning it and now she’d have to come clean with the humiliating truth. Shame aside, however, Kate couldn’t help but experience a helpless rush of Schadenfreude that her slip might upset Sophie’s cosy attitude towards Hawksworth.

  ‘This is a bit embarrassing,’ she said, ‘but my fiance was looking for me this morning, and because my mobile was off and I hadn’t been home last night, he tried to find me through DCI Hawksworth.’

  ‘Why would Jack know where you were?’

  Kate wondered briefly whether she should start packing now for the Kingston office. ‘Er, it’s not what you think. I’m so sorry, I’m explaining this badly. I work very closely with Ja— DCI Hawksworth and I think Dan thought if anyone knew how to contact me, then my boss would.’

  ‘Oh, I see. I wasn’t inferring anything, Kate — just trying to understand. What has this to do with my apartment though?’

  Kate thought Sophie was really being anal now. ‘Dan came to see DCI Hawksworth and happened to run into a woman coming down in the lifts. He asked if he could borrow her keycard to get up to the third floor, but she was having none of it, that’s all. Dan was telling us both about it.’

  ‘Telling you and Jack,’ Sophie qualified.

  ‘Yes, that’s right.’ Kate frowned. ‘Jack became concerned because the levels are meant to be secure.’

  The atmosphere of the phone call felt suddenly tense and it had nothing to do with Kate’s private envy of the woman she was speaking to. But then Sophie’s manner shifted suddenly.

  ‘Oh, I know what this is,’ she said, laughing. ‘That was Ava, a friend of mine. I lent her a keycard. She was picking up some stuff from my place this morning. Your fiance probably ran into her.’

  ‘There you are. I told him there would be a simple explanation. He initially thought it was Mrs Becker.’

  ‘Ah, yes, well, Ava’s German.’

  ‘And according to my fiance, extremely gorgeous. I won’t repeat how he described your friend to my boss.’

  The frigid atmosphere returned. ‘Kate, I can’t seem to reach Jack on his mobile — I thought you might know how I can speak with him.’

  ‘Things are a bit chaotic just now.’

  ‘Of course, I imagine it must be. I heard something on the radio a few moments ago. The police are asking for a Edward Fletcher to come forward regarding the two murders.’

  ‘Okay, that’s good to know it’s already out. Yes, Jack’s busy on the case right now. He’s in Brighton and going to be hard to reach for a while.’

  ‘In Brighton?’

  Kate heard the shock in Sophie’s voice.

  ‘Yes, didn’t he mention it?’ She was deliberately goading Sophie now. Of course Jack wouldn’t have mentioned it; he didn’t know he was going himself until the call came through from Bowles.

  ‘Ah, that’s right, he did.’

  ‘Did he?’ Kate said, unable to hide the riff of sarcasm that had crept into her tone. She was lightly retracing the lines of the arrows Jack had drawn on his diary page. ‘I love Brighton, don’t you?’

  Sophie gave a small groan. ‘Do you know, it’s a place I’ve never been to. I was born in the south, but I’m embarrassed to say our family used to go to places like Portsmouth or Bournemouth for our family holidays, never Brighton. My father was a doctor, said the air was cleaner in Bournemouth.’ She gave a soft, tinkling laugh.

  ‘Really? I think our family spent every summer until 1979 on the Brighton and Hove beaches. Loved those piers.’

  ‘Yes, we seemed to spend a lot of our summers on Bournemouth Pier. Of course, West Pier would have been closed for most of the years you holidayed in Brighton.’

  ‘Oh? For someone who hasn’t been there, you know the history well.’

  Sophie laughed brightly. ‘Not really. I love piers. Ask Jack — I even have photographs of them. A throwback to childhood. Anyway . . .’ Her tone said she wanted to wrap up the conversation.

  ‘Yes, sorry, is there anything I can help with? Perhaps I can pass on a message.’ Kate was staring at the phone’s console, a pen poised over Jack’s noughts and crosses now. She wanted to finish the game off for him but something was niggling at her.

  ‘Thanks, but no need. I’ll try him later or text him. If he calls, just let him know I reached Devon okay, the weather’s damp and Mum’s fine. And I’ll definitely see him tomorrow evening as we planned.’

  Kate bristled. ‘Lucky you,’ she said, hurriedly adding, ‘I love Devon. I’ll pass that on.’

  ‘Thanks,’ Sophie said. ‘Bye then.’

  Kate didn’t wish Sophie goodbye, just let the sound of the dead line beep into her ear as she considered what was troubling her. Devon? She finally put the receiver down and stared at the console.

  ‘What’s up?’ It was Sarah at Jack’s doorway.

  ‘Not sure,’ Kate answered absently.

  ‘I can’t reach the boss.’

  ‘None of us can, it seems.’

  ‘Those names don’t ring any bells with Moss. Can you tell the DCI if he rings in and I miss him?’

  Kate nodded, still distracted. She coloured in one of Jack’s arrowheads as she reached a decision. ‘Sarah, do me a favour, will you?’

  ‘Sure.’

  ‘Get on to BT and double-check where that last call came from.’

  ‘The one that came through to this office, you mean?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Um . . . is that wise. It was a call to Hawk’s line, wasn’t it?’

  ‘Just do it, Sarah,’ Kate said, reminding with her tone who was in charge today. ‘And let me know as soon as you have the information. I want the number and the location of the phone.’

  ‘O-kay,’ Sarah said, clearly reluctant, but Kate was already picking up the receiver and dialling home.

  ‘Hello?’

  ‘Dan, it’s me.’

  ‘At last.’

  ‘Listen, I don’t have much time. I need to ask you something.’

  ‘You never have time any more, Kate.’

  ‘Don’t start. This is important. Tell me everything you can about the woman you saw at Jack’s apartment this morning.’

  ‘Why? Are you jealous?’

  ‘I’d have thought for someone who made a complete arse of himself this morning you’d have learned your lesson. I’m following something up for the case, if you must know.’

  ‘Is that right? Perhaps you want to have a CCTV camera put into Hawksworth’s flat so you can keep an even closer watch on him, since lurking around Highgate isn’t enough.’

  ‘You were the one lurking, Dan, not me. I was simply sitting in a park and clearing my thoughts. Are you going to grow up and help me, or not?’

  ‘I already told you both what I saw.’

  ‘Well, tell me again and this time I’ll pay attention.’

  ‘I can’t see what this has to do —’

  ‘Tell me again,’ she dem
anded.

  ‘She’s pretty, okay? Perhaps a bit shorter than you. Blonde hair. Dressed real casual, slouchy cargo pants but can’t hide a great arse or nice body. German accent. Great tits.’

  ‘You didn’t miss much, did you?’

  ‘Can’t blame me for looking, Kate. You give me nothing.’

  ‘What colour was she wearing?’

  ‘Cargo pants were olivey-grey, pockets on the leg. Those trendy trainers in a sort of khaki suede. Long-sleeved white T-shirt with the words “Bite Me” on them. She’s lucky I didn’t.’ He heard Kate sigh down the phone. ‘Dark grey hoodie tied around her waist.’

  ‘Not exactly warm-weather clothes.’

  ‘Don’t ask me, I’m not the fashion victim.’

  ‘See you, Dan,’ she said, weary of his jibes.

  ‘When?’

  ‘Not sure.’

  ‘Ever?’

  ‘Not sure.’

  The line went dead in her ear. She knew their conversation had been recorded but couldn’t worry about that now. She closed Jack’s diary and left his office.

  ‘What?’ she mouthed to Sarah, but the DS held her hand up to stop Kate saying anything more, then scribbled down some details. Kate heard her thank whomever she had been speaking with before she looked back up. ‘The call came from a public phone at a pub called The Connaught.’

  ‘And where is that located?’ Kate held her breath, dreading that she already knew what Sarah was going to say.

  28

  Anne was sitting in the transit van, her recently purchased mobile, charged and ready with twenty pounds’ credit, resting in her lap. She had been listening to the radio when breaking news was announced that progress was being made on the double murder case that some areas of the media were referring to as a serial killing. A snatch of an interview with Superintendent Sharpe told listeners that police were interested in talking to an Edward Fletcher of Hastings in connection with the case. They stressed that Fletcher was not a suspect but might be able to help them with their inquiries.

  Anne slapped the dashboard with frustration. They were closing in far faster than she’d imagined. If Billy heard that radio report or watched a television between now and their meeting tonight, her mission of vengeance was over. The police were probably trying to phone him right now.

  She made a decision, picked up the phone and keyed in a number.

  * * *

  Jack sat back, both disturbed and horribly fascinated by the macabre tale he’d just heard from Phillip Bowles. The man now sat sobbing in his chair, clutching a glass of water that Brodie had pushed into his hand.

  ‘Phil, I need to ask some more questions,’ Jack said. ‘Are you okay to do this with me?’

  The weeping man nodded.

  ‘Why were you called the Jesters Club?’

  ‘Because of the masks. He came up with the name. He said something about clowns being called jesters in the olden days or something.’

  ‘He being this man who called himself Pierrot?’

  ‘Yes. He met us one afternoon after school, must have followed us to Hangleton. Everyone but me lived there, but I used to go up after school to the Hangleton Library where my mum worked.’

  ‘Is that where you first met him?’

  Phil nodded.

  ‘You need to answer for the tape, Phil,’ Jack coached gently.

  ‘Yes. He seemed to know Billy, but I don’t think very well. He’d spoken to him once or twice, but this time he found us arsing about on the green next to Clarke Avenue. We got talking and he said he had a great idea and that we should meet him at Hove Park the next day after school. He said he’d have some smokes and sweets for us.’

  ‘And you met him?’

  ‘We did. There were four of us, so we weren’t too bothered. I realise now he chose that spot because it was big and lonely enough. At Hangleton, everyone’s watching each other, and the green, where all the kids met and played, was far too public.’

  ‘So what happened at that first meeting?’ Jack asked.

  Phil shrugged. ‘We talked a lot — about nothing really. Then Anne came up.’

  ‘Did he bring her into the conversation?’

  ‘I can’t remember. I think he might have, yes.’

  ‘And what was he saying about Anne?’

  ‘Oh, he insulted her a lot and said we shouldn’t put up with her high-handed attitude. Clive said she was too clever for their school, should be at the grammar and all that sort of thing.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘Pierrot kept encouraging him, kept saying we should teach her a lesson. He said we had to learn how to deal with women and not be dominated by them, and that he’d seen us teasing Anne and that we were pussies.’

  ‘He used that word?’

  ‘Yes. He taunted Billy and Clive with it. Said none of us knew what it was like to be with a girl; that we were fifteen and still virgins. Kept on about it.’

  ‘Did you meet him again?’

  ‘Yes, it became more regular over the next couple of weeks. He’d bring his car and take us for joyrides.’ ‘What about your parents?’

  ‘Well, so long as I was at the library by five, my mum didn’t know any better. I don’t know what the others told their parents. I don’t think Mikey’s people cared much.’

  It was time to get back to the night of the attack. ‘So then what happened?’

  ‘Well, we got used to Pierrot and the car, the smokes, the sweets. We were kids, thought nothing of it, although now I realise he was controlling us. On the evening that the thing happened with Anne I was supposed to be sleeping at Clive’s place. Pierrot had this stupid mask — a plastic clown’s mask — and he’d bought us all those Guy Fawkes masks. It was early November, so they were everywhere in the newsagents.’ Jack nodded encouragingly. ‘He’d obviously been following Anne to know that she’d be walking her pup where we found her.’

  ‘Did Pierrot tell you what he was going to do?’

  ‘No, Chief Inspector Hawksworth, he did not. And when he’d drugged Anne, we thought he was just going to . . .’ He trailed off, embarrassed.

  ‘Go on, Phil, it’s okay.’

  He looked at his lap. ‘Well, he’d been talking about giving us an education and I thought he was just going to strip her or something . . .’

  ‘So you could all see what a naked girl looked like?’

  ‘Yes,’ he murmured.

  ‘And none of you boys involved yourselves, is that right?’

  Phil shook his head vehemently. ‘Like I said, I was holding her dog, but I know for a fact that none of us touched her. He grabbed her, he dragged her to that toilet block, he drugged her, he raped her and then he killed her dog. We were just there.’ Phil’s voice broke.

  Jack wanted to ask why one or all of them didn’t run to get help but it wasn’t his place to judge. He kept his voice low and neutral. ‘To your knowledge, did Pierrot set out to make Anne pregnant?’

  ‘I can’t answer that categorically but I’d say no. I’m guessing it was an accident, which would explain why he was so angry when he discovered it.’

  ‘Did he encourage any of you to rape Anne as well?’

  ‘Not to my knowledge. It was all so chaotic. One moment everyone was in the toilet block watching Anne fall asleep, and the next he’d undone his trousers, pulled down her knickers and raped her. I think it would be fair to say we were shocked. If he offered any of the others time with her, I wasn’t aware of it, and I don’t think anyone would have done anything about it. The only one amongst us interested in girls at that stage was Billy, and he told us he was sort of seeing someone, but Clive said he was lying, that no one would have the patience.’

  ‘Because of his stammer, you mean?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘But you all stayed in touch afterwards?’

  ‘Yeah, we kept in loose touch. We shared a secret, after all — not that any of us discussed it. We were too scared.’

  ‘And Pierrot?’

  ‘Pier
rot kept bringing us sweets and chocolate — I think to keep an eye on us, buy our silence. Then he said it was time we learned to drink and so on.’ He shrugged.

  ‘Did you discuss the rape with him?’

  ‘Never. I think we just wanted to forget it ever happened. I know I convinced myself that if I just didn’t think about it, it would go away, because I wasn’t part of it.’

  Jack moved Phil ahead to the second attack. ‘So why did you boys get involved in the abduction?’

  ‘Because we were stupid. He said he’d found Anne and we were going to have a party and make it up to her. He knew just how to play us.’

  ‘And you believed him?’ Jack couldn’t quite disguise the incredulity in his tone.

  ‘I did, Chief Inspector. I wanted to believe we could set things right. But we were drunk, not thinking clearly. He said it had to be a surprise and we were going to blindfold her, take her onto the pier. That it was going to be fun and she would forgive us.’

  ‘But it wasn’t anything like that, was it, Phil?’

  ‘No. Billy tried to stop it, so did I — even Clive said he was leaving — but Pierrot had more booze, more goodies. As I said, we were gullible, stupid. Before we knew it we were too pissed to care, but we left the pier as soon as Pierrot began hurting Anne. We went to the beach.’ Phil began to cry.

  There was no point in asking why they hadn’t done anything to stop the attack. No going back and setting things right. Jack pressed on. ‘Anne McEvoy’s baby was born on the night the Jesters Club snatched her and took her to West Pier. Are you absolutely sure the baby was alive?’

  ‘It looked dead, initially. I mean, if you’d seen what he did to Anne . . .’ Bowles sniffed, reached again for his large handkerchief. ‘Pierrot flew into this huge rage and jumped on her. We all ran. Even drunk, it was too shocking for me.’

  ‘But how do you know the child was alive? Did you hear it cry? See it move? What?’

  ‘Both, but only for a second or two. We ran down onto the beach. I don’t know what he was doing. I thought Anne was dead, and I was terrified he was going to kill the baby too — like he killed her dog — so I sneaked back.’

 

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