Bye Bye Baby

by McIntosh, Fiona

  ‘And that’s when you saw him bundling up the baby in his own clothes?’

  Phil nodded, gulped some water.

  ‘But you heard nothing more?’ Jack asked.

  ‘I heard it moan, I think, but it was like a contented moan.’

  ‘And Anne didn’t move after this?’

  Phil shook his head sadly. ‘I wasn’t able to see much or for long, but she was dead still.’

  ‘You said “most of us were smashed”. What do you mean?’

  ‘I don’t understand.’ He gulped some more water.

  ‘Well, who wasn’t smashed?’

  ‘Oh, I see. Billy. He’d drunk as much as the rest of us, but he sobered real fast. He was the one who stopped us going to the police.’

  ‘You were going to the police?’

  ‘Mikey wanted to. I did too, but Billy said we’d be the ones who got into trouble. And Clive agreed. Billy said we were . . . um . . . I can’t think of the word.’

  ‘Accomplices?’ Jack offered.

  ‘That’s right, that’s the word he used. He said we’d been involved in her rape and the abduction and that we’d be considered criminals.’

  ‘But you said only Pierrot raped Anne. That’s right, isn’t it?’

  Phil nodded.

  ‘Sorry, but I need you to answer for the tape.’

  ‘Yes, only Pierrot raped her. We were kids. I don’t think I would have known what to do.’ He looked sheepish. ‘Still don’t. And anyway, I was looking after her dog.’

  ‘What did the others do during the rape?’

  ‘They were just watching.’

  ‘Why didn’t any of you do anything to stop him?’

  ‘He said we were just going to tease her, frighten her a bit. We’d been doing that to Anne for months anyway — just a bit of fun. We were kids, you know.’

  Jack kept his expression impassive, even though inside he was seething. He felt a surge of violence towards this man and his lowlife friends threatening to unleash itself. He fought it, ground his teeth hard to steady himself.

  ‘Did you normally hurt her?’ he asked.

  ‘No,’ Phil said firmly. ‘We teased her, that’s all. Pulled her hair, threw her schoolbag into the bin or the bushes. Anne was an easy target.’

  ‘Because she never fought back, you mean?’

  ‘Mmm.’ He nodded. ‘I’m ashamed.’

  ‘You should be,’ Cam piped up from where he was leaning in the doorway.

  Jack should have reprimanded Brodie, but the detective was echoing his own feelings. Instead, he allowed the admonishment to make Phillip Bowles squirm further.

  ‘So after Pierrot drugged and raped Anne, he killed her dog,’ Jack said. ‘Why?’

  ‘The rape was quick. He lasted only moments according to Billy. He was still very wired, you know, after he came out of the toilets. He seemed really angry. It was Clive who said we should leave her a happy birthday card. Clive was a bit slow. He thought it was funny to leave her the card. The rest of us didn’t want to. But Pierrot let Clive write the note. It was a tragedy that her puppy died. He didn’t have to. He was a lovely little chap. But he began to yap and cry. He was tired and frightened. I’d managed to keep him quiet but Pierrot kept slapping him to stay quiet and that made him worse and Pierrot thought it would bring people running so he held him down and stabbed him.’

  ‘How many times?’

  ‘Just once was enough. The dog died fairly soon after it and I was so pissed off I left them.’

  ‘Where did Pierrot stab the dog?’

  ‘In the park,’ Phil answered, weariness taking over from his misery.

  ‘I mean, did he stab him in the neck or —’

  ‘The belly. Here.’ Phil pointed to a spot on the left side of his abdomen.

  Jack glanced at Cam, who nodded. Both made the connection to the stab wound to the already dead or dying victims. It seemed it was more to do with retribution than to speed their end. As the profiler had warned, the injuries were very personal to their killer.

  ‘Phil, we’re going to take you into custody.’ Jack held up a hand as fresh panic gripped Bowles. ‘I’m not detaining you. We are offering police protection at Sussex until we can sort out more thorough security for you here. We would also like to formalise this interview, take a proper statement — we will certainly have more questions.’

  ‘He can’t get me, can he?’

  ‘Pierrot? Phil, I think you should know that our focus is on the five teenagers involved in this.’

  Bowles eyed him. ‘What, you think it’s Billy? That Billy’s killed the others and is now coming for me?’ He stood up, agitated.

  ‘No, no, we don’t. Phil, listen to me. We think Billy Fletcher is under the same sort of threat that you are from the killer.’

  ‘I don’t understand.’

  ‘We think the killer could be a woman. In fact, from what you’ve told me, we think the killer could well be Anne McEvoy.’

  ‘Anne?’ Phil whispered. ‘But Anne’s dead.’

  Jack looked at him sadly. ‘Anne survived the vicious attack you’ve just described. She was admitted to hospital in the early hours of the morning after the night of the abduction, having been found by one of the anglers who kept an eye on the pier.’

  Phil was shaking his head. ‘No, no way. Anne couldn’t be doing this. Anne was timid. Anne’s dead.’

  ‘She lived, and we think she could be exacting her revenge now for all the terrible wrongs inflicted on her by the Jesters Club.’

  Phil stared back, not seeing, not really understanding, Jack thought. He suspected that Mr Bowles, who lived alone and still seemed stuck in a time warp of childhood, needed professional medical help to deal with this shock. It would be best to get him into police custody immediately and get help from a doctor. He nodded at Brodie, who understood and left to tell the team outside what was happening.

  ‘Phil?’ Jack began gently. ‘Can you give us any insight into who Pierrot might be? Any clue at all? Because, you see, he too is under threat from her — him most of all, in fact.’

  ‘I can’t really remember him so clearly. He was nothing special.’

  ‘Well, tell me what you can. How tall was he?’

  ‘Taller than I am, not as tall as you. He was thinnish, had freckly arms.’

  ‘Alright, how about hair colour?’

  ‘Nothing special, dark.’

  ‘Curly, wavy, straight, long, short?’ Jack reached for an easy example. ‘Like Leo Sayer?’

  ‘No, straight.’

  ‘Okay. You didn’t get his eye colour, did you?’

  ‘Blue.’

  ‘What sort of blue?’

  Phil shrugged. ‘Just blue.’

  ‘Dark, light, mid-blue?’

  ‘Yeah, the last one.’

  Jack tried not to sigh. ‘What about skin?’

  ‘White.’

  Jack couldn’t hide the soft sneer. ‘As in English?’

  ‘No, I mean he was so pale you could see the veins in his arms. He was really white — and freckly, like I said before.’

  Phil appeared to be drifting. His gaze had become distant.

  ‘Was he hairy?’

  Phil shook his head.

  ‘What about his voice?’

  ‘He spoke quietly. His voice had an accent — like Val Doonican, remember him? — but I don’t know.’ He shrugged an apology. ‘What about the baby?’ he added, as if in a trance.

  Jack could tell he’d lost Bowles regarding any further clarification on Pierrot’s appearance. He pressed on, moving with Phil’s thoughts. ‘The child, yes, what do you think happened to it?’

  ‘I don’t know. I never saw or heard of Pierrot or any of the others again until I read in the newspapers that Mikey had died. I can’t believe Anne’s still alive,’ he finished, looking terrified. ‘She must have suffered so much. I don’t think I can live with myself over this, not now that I know.’

  Jack would have liked to ask Phil how he’d live
d this long with such a terrible secret. Instead, he dictated the routine words to wrap up the recording, switched the contraption off and slipped it into his pocket.

  ‘Shall we go? You’d better lock up the house, put on something warm. We can come back and pack a few things later.’

  ‘We’re leaving?’

  ‘Yes. We’re going to keep you safe.’

  ‘I can’t ever be safe from my memories, Detective Hawksworth.’

  No, I don’t suppose you can, Jack thought.

  Phil stood. ‘My dog. He can’t be left alone. I locked him in one of the bedrooms. Do you mind if I get him?’

  ‘He can come along. He’s small, is he?’

  ‘Tiny. Um, I also kept my mask from the Jesters Club. Do you want me to give that to the police?’

  ‘Yes, Phil. Definitely bring anything that you think can help us to find Anne.’

  Bowles excused himself. ‘I shan’t be long. I might visit the lavvy as well, if that’s okay.’

  ‘Of course,’ Jack said, reaching for his phone as Phil left the room. There was a flood of missed calls: two from Sarah and three from Kate, including a text from Kate that said, Ring me urgently. He was still quietly angry with her about her behaviour and her comment in the lift. She could sweat on it, he thought, especially as next in line was a text from Sophie. He opened up the message.

  Spoke 2 Kate. Said u worried about my viz. Don’t be, she an old friend. Call ltr. Sxx

  Jack felt a soft stir of fresh anger that Kate was meddling again in his private life. She had no business talking to Sophie about anything that he’d mentioned, and why were they talking anyway? His phone rang while he was still fuming.

  ‘Hawksworth,’ he snapped.

  ‘Wow, Jack, what’s up?’

  ‘Sophie,’ he said and sighed. ‘Sorry, bad morning. I just got your message.’

  ‘I haven’t been able to reach you but was told you probably had your phone switched off. I thought I’d give it one more go.’

  ‘I had it on silent. I was interviewing. Did you ring the Yard?’

  ‘Yes, although I won’t make a habit of it, don’t worry. Your female colleague, Kate, sounded overly protective.’

  Jack’s jaw worked to keep his impatience at Kate in check. ‘I guess when you work as a close team everyone tends to get protective.’

  ‘She’s probably in love with you,’ Sophie teased.

  ‘Whatever makes you say that?’

  ‘Mmm, ribbing you clearly isn’t a good idea this morning. Are things hotting up?’

  Jack didn’t want to argue with Sophie of all people.

  ‘Yes. We finally have a witness.’

  ‘To the killings?’ she asked, incredulous.

  ‘No, to that case all those years ago.’

  ‘Oh, right. I hear the police are asking for someone to come forward regarding the two murders.’

  ‘Yes, we’re hoping to have him in custody later today.’

  ‘Well, good luck with it all. I, meanwhile, need you to wish me luck with my mother. She’s very cranky but I’ll be taking her out to lunch and hope that will soothe her grumpy state.’

  ‘There’s a great pub in North Devon called The Half Moon. Real ales.’

  ‘We’ll probably just go to the George in South Molton. I’ve already booked it. She likes the roast of the day,’ Sophie said with resignation.

  ‘How’s the weather?’

  ‘Pouring.’

  ‘So . . .’ Jack wanted to ask Sophie about the trains this morning but he had enough problems to juggle for today.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Looking forward to seeing you.’

  ‘I’ll let you go,’ she said and he could hear the smile in her voice. ‘Talk later.’

  Brodie returned. ‘Where’s Bowles?’ he asked Jack, who was dialling to check his voicemail.

  ‘Bathroom and getting ready to leave.’

  Brodie nodded. ‘Kate’s chasing you.’

  ‘Yeah, so I hear from these messages.’ He snapped his phone shut on Kate’s voice urging him to call her.

  ‘I’ve just checked with Sarah. Apparently no one home at the Fletcher household. They’re tracking a mobile number now.’

  ‘Okay. Maybe the media announcement will find him for us first.’

  ‘Bowles has been a while.’

  ‘Go check, Cam. I’d better call Kate.’

  Brodie headed for the stairs, while Jack dialled the operations room.

  ‘Operation Danube. DS Jones speaking.’

  ‘Hi, Sarah, it’s me.’

  ‘Hello, sir. How’s it going with Bowles?’

  ‘He’s given us a story to curl the hair. Kate was right — I think we can now say our killer is likely to be Anne McEvoy.’

  ‘We’ll get to work on it immediately, sir. Kate’s desperate to speak with you.’

  ‘So I gather. Switch me through.’ Jack heard a muffled yell from upstairs.

  ‘It’s Kate, sir.’

  ‘Hang on,’ he said into the phone. ‘Brodie?’ he called.

  ‘I need help!’ Brodie yelled. There was no mistaking the panic in his voice.

  ‘I’ll call you back,’ Jack said to Kate and began running up the stairs two at a time. ‘Where?’ he yelled.

  ‘Here!’

  Jack burst into the bathroom to find Brodie, his shirtfront drenched in blood, cradling a dying Phillip Bowles, the artery at the smaller man’s wrist long finished pumping out the little life he had left in him. The blood was a mere trickle now, gurgling down the plughole and staining the feet of a tiny fox terrier who sat between his master’s legs, whining.

  ‘No-oo!’ Jack bellowed, his fingers blindly dialling the emergency line.

  ‘It’s too late, Hawk,’ Brodie groaned, his fingers at Bowles’s throat. ‘No pulse.’

  The dog began to howl.

  29

  Jack leaned miserably against the front of the car, talking to the Super. He’d already outlined all that they’d learned from Bowles but now they were back on to his unexpected death, both still shocked.

  ‘How could this happen?’ Sharpe said.

  ‘I’m so sorry, sir,’ Jack answered, his misery evident in his tone. ‘He didn’t strike me as a risk. In fact, he desperately wanted our protection.’

  ‘Then why?’ Sharpe sounded angry now. ‘He was our chance to break this case open.’

  Jack paused, allowing the Super’s understandable fury to dissipate into the silence. ‘He’d just learned that Anne McEvoy survived the attack and is probably hunting him. I think that’s what must have pushed him over the edge, sir. Until now, he’d believed her dead. Thirty years of guilt finally caught up with him.’

  ‘Right,’ the Super said with finality. ‘Call in everyone from your team and anyone else you need. You find this Edward Fletcher, Jack, and find him fast. We have no idea who this Pierrot is, do we?’

  ‘None, sir.’

  ‘Then Fletcher is all we have. Don’t let her get to him first. Keep me posted.’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  The line went dead. Jack sighed, feeling done in. What a day. He dialled Operation Danube.

  ‘Hi, Sarah. Can I speak with Kate, please?’

  A moment later she clicked on. ‘It’s Kate. What happened, sir?’

  ‘Bowles topped himself.’

  ‘Oh my god!’

  ‘It’s such a fuck-up,’ Jack said bitterly.

  ‘Well ... how ... wh—’

  ‘Slit his wrists while we waited for him downstairs. He said he was going up to get a few things. I was on the phone to you . . .’ He didn’t finish; didn’t mention that he’d also spoken to Sophie while Phil Bowles was bleeding to death.

  ‘I’m sorry, sir.’

  ‘Yes, that’s just what I told the Super.’

  ‘So Fletcher is everything now, I guess,’ Kate said, already moving beyond Bowles, although the shock hadn’t left her voice.

  ‘Get the whole team in, Kate,’ he said. ‘Call in
any extra staff you think we need. We have to find Fletcher. Get Sussex doorknocking the neighbours. Find out anything you can from his dentist, his doctor, anyone.’

  ‘We’ll find him, sir, I promise. So Anne McEvoy is our girl?’

  ‘It seems so. Get Sarah hunting down everything she can on McEvoy; you stay on Fletcher.’

  ‘Are you and Cam staying in Brighton?’

  ‘I’ll leave Brodie to sort everything here. I might get across to Hastings, see if I can help out there, although Fletcher could be anywhere,’ Jack said miserably. Then added, ‘It won’t end with him, though.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘There was a fifth person, as we’d begun to suspect. An older man. The one who led the boys in the attacks. From what Bowles said, none of the lads laid a finger on Anne other than to help abduct her. It was this other fellow they called Pierrot who raped and then attacked her. They were the stooges.’

  ‘Pierrot — after the clown?’

  ‘Yes. Hence the masks — which reminds me, Bowles kept his.’ Jack made a mental note to tell Brodie to find that mask. ‘It may explain the blue paint.’

  ‘How, sir?’

  ‘Well, we know blue make-up is considered unlucky by clowns. Perhaps this was Anne McEvoy’s way of reminding these clowns they’d had their last laugh.’

  ‘Revolting. What about the other injuries?’

  ‘Brodie and I think we’ve found the reason for the single stab wound. Apparently this Pierrot guy killed McEvoy’s new puppy. Stabbed him in the belly, just the once. The pup’s safety was how they coerced Anne into a toilet block in Hove Park.’

  ‘Where they raped her,’ Kate finished.

  ‘They drugged her first, Bowles told us. Killed her dog, left a note wishing her a happy birthday apparently.’

  ‘She’s drugging each of them, too,’ Kate said. ‘It’s not her being generous, sir. She’s recreating the scene for them.’

  Jack felt momentarily brighter as another piece of the puzzle slotted into place. ‘I wonder if the odd places we found the bodies are also pointers to what they did to her. Farrow was found in a toilet block; Sheriff in an alley.’

  ‘Where else is there? Did Bowles give you any other ideas?’