When it was obvious she wasn’t going to reply, Bremer said, ‘This is Carla Brown, an analyst with Thames Valley Police. I believe she provided evidence against Connor O’Brian at his trial. You may recognise her from that.’
Recognition dawned on Gloria’s face. It quickly changed to concern. ‘So why’s she here now?’
Carla relaxed a little, relieved Gloria’s memory was as vague about their meeting as Carla herself had been, though she wished her presence wasn’t making Gloria twist her hands nervously in her lap.
‘I asked her.’ Bremer smiled. ‘I thought it might be good to have a friendly face.’
‘You not friendly then?’
Touché, Carla thought, but Bremer just smiled and continued.
‘Gloria, we have reason to believe you rent a flat in Cowley Marsh, is that right?’
Gloria blinked, stole a look at Carla, then said, ‘Yes, what of it?’
‘Has Connor O’Brian visited the flat?’
Gloria opened her mouth, then shut it again.
‘We don’t care what you use the flat for, we just want to know about Connor.’
‘No. I haven’t seen him since the trial, years ago.’ She shifted awkwardly on the fuchsia-coloured sofa and even Carla could see she was lying.
‘Gloria,’ Bremer leaned forward, his voice soft, ‘Connor O’Brian was found dead at your flat this morning.’ He let his words settle and they watched as Gloria’s expression went from disbelief to horror, before shutting down defensively.
‘I didn’t kill him, if that’s why you’re here.’
‘We don’t think you did. We’ve seen CCTV of the woman we want to question. We just need you to tell us who she is.’
Gloria looked desperately at Carla, then back to Bremer. ‘I don’t know anything about it. I live here, I just dump stuff there, like a storage room,’ she stalled, clearly not wanting to reveal the reason she rented it; not wanting to mention clients and paying by the hour.
Bremer looked at Carla, then stood. ‘I’ll go and make us tea.’ One more glance at her from the door, a pointed look to tell her to take over, and he was gone. With his absence, the atmosphere lifted. Gloria visibly relaxed, and although clearly still upset, she was obviously beginning to think.
‘Why was Connor in my flat?’
Carla couldn’t tell if it was a genuine question or an attempt to cover her back, so she said, ‘Gloria, at the moment, we don’t think you killed him. But the more you lie to us, the more we may start to question that assumption.’
Gloria stared at her, eyes pleading, but Carla held the look and didn’t back down.
‘Ugh.’ Gloria sank back in her chair. ‘I’m fucked, aren’t I?’
‘Did you let Connor into your flat?’
‘Yes.’ She wiped a tear from the side of her right eye. ‘Connor would come over when he’d had a fight with her.’ Gloria’s expression clouded. ‘So I just assumed he’d had another one and let him in.’
‘Have you met his girlfriend?’
Gloria snorted. ‘God, no. Connor would have killed us both. Or we would have killed each other,’ she added.
‘Did they often argue?’
‘How often did he come over, you mean?’ Gloria shrugged. ‘Once every few weeks.’
‘And the last time he called, what did he say?’
‘Just that he’d had another fight and needed a place to bunk down. I didn’t stay with him, I never did, just gave him the keys and left.’
Carla doubted that. ‘And he didn’t say anything else about his fight with his girlfriend?’
‘No. Like what?’
‘I don’t know. I just wanted to see if he had. Gloria …’ Carla knew she shouldn’t ask, but she had to know, ‘… why did you let Connor stay, after what he did to you?’
Gloria looked surprised. ‘Because I love him.’
Such simple words.
‘Even after everything he did to you and your family?’
Gloria floundered for a moment. ‘I love him and I hate him, if that makes sense.’
It did.
‘Did you kill him, Gloria?’
‘No,’ she said sharply.
‘Then who was the woman that went into the flat?’
Gloria looked pleadingly at her, begging her not to make her say.
‘Gloria. We need to know.’
Gloria burst into tears and it was seconds before she could speak again. ‘You don’t know what it’s like, trying to raise a kid on your own.’ She wiped her nose on her sleeve. ‘Mum helps, but she’s got to work too, and I couldn’t get a job, so some weeks we just couldn’t eat.’
Carla dug a tissue from her bag and handed it to her. ‘Go on.’
‘Well, that’s when I started … you know,’ she averted her eyes, ‘went on the game. And I don’t regret it.’ Her eyes caught Carla’s, this time with a flash of defiance. ‘But it was still hard. It takes a while to build up a client list and I was still struggling and Billy needed new school shoes and Mum couldn’t fill the electric card, so …’
‘So?’
Gloria exhaled, sank back into the sofa. ‘So, I said OK. I mean, wouldn’t you? Someone offers you £500 for one night in a flat that costs you £300 a month? How could I say no to that?’ The tears began again but Gloria continued to speak. ‘I didn’t know she was going to kill him. How could I have known that? And I’d never have taken the money if I knew she would do that. I loved him,’ she repeated, before falling silent.
Carla saw Bremer appear at the door. He gave her the thumbs-up, but she couldn’t share his sense of victory. And as he walked over to Gloria, handing her a cup of tea, all Carla could feel was guilt.
‘What was the woman’s name?’ Bremer sat back down in the armchair. ‘The one who gave you the money?’
‘I don’t know, she didn’t say.’
‘How do you know it was a she?’
Gloria hesitated. ‘I don’t know, I suppose I just assumed, what with why I was using the flat …’ She floundered, clearly not wanting to implicate herself further, keen to keep ‘running a brothel’ off her charge sheet.
‘Did they pay you in cash or by cheque?’ Bremer asked.
Carla knew the answer; a cheque was traceable, cash was not.
‘Cash – it’s over there in the drawer.’ Gloria nodded towards a wonky-looking dresser.
‘It’s OK, we don’t need the money.’
Carla felt a rush of gratitude towards Bremer. Gloria was going to be in for a rough time of it and that money was going to help tide the small family over, especially after her clients got wind of police sniffing round.
‘How did they contact you? By phone?’ Carla asked, knowing the answer would be no; phones, like cheques, were traceable.
‘No, they left me a note.’
‘Where?’
‘It was just put through the letter box. I found it when I got home from picking up Billy.’
‘Do you still have it?’ Bremer asked. Gloria shook her head.
‘How did you reply to them?’
‘I didn’t. It just said if you want £500 then leave the key in the phone box.’
‘The phone box?’
‘Opposite the flat. They said they only needed it for one night. Said they’d leave the money in the phone box when they left.’
‘Did they say why they wanted to use the flat for one night only?’
Another shake of the head.
‘And you didn’t ask?’
‘No.’
‘So why was Connor there?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Well, if the flat was to be used by someone else, why let Connor stay?’
‘I got the note after he’d gone in, so I called him to tell him to get out.’ She looked at Carla. ‘Why didn’t he leave? Why did he stay, even though I said she’d be going over?’
Carla had no answer, but it was a good point: why had Connor remained in the flat even when he knew someone was arriving? Had the wo
man made contact with him? She made a note to chase Connor’s phone bill as soon as they were back in the office.
Bremer leaned forward. ‘Gloria, would you mind coming down to the station to view a CCTV tape, just to see if you recognise a woman on it?’
‘The station? Why the station?’
Bremer spoke calmly. ‘Because that’s where the CCTV tape is and it would help if you took a look at it for us. If the woman knew Connor was at the flat, it’s likely she had been following him, in which case you might have seen her without realising it.’
Gloria turned to Carla. ‘But Billy will be home soon and I’ve not got anyone to have him because Mum’s on nights.’
Bremer looked like he was going to insist and Carla felt another stab of guilt. God, there was a reason she’d taken a desk job, and this was it.
‘OK, Gloria. Nine a.m. at the station OK for you?’
Gloria looked as though she could cry with relief. ‘Yes, thank you.’
Walking them to the door, she asked, ‘How did he die?’ Her back was to them and Carla shook her head at Bremer.
‘We aren’t sure yet,’ he said.
Gloria spun round.
‘Then how do you know he was murdered?’
‘He had an injury to his head. The injury suggests it wasn’t an accident.’
Carla could see Bremer was choosing his words carefully, but it did little to soften them.
‘I killed him, didn’t I?’ she said to Carla. ‘Even if I didn’t do it myself, I may as well have.’
‘No, Gloria, you didn’t kill him.’
‘But I must know the person who did, or how would they know to contact me? I can’t think of anyone who would kill a person.’
Carla thought she probably did, but let it go. ‘Have you noticed anyone hanging around recently, anyone you haven’t recognised?’
‘No.’ Gloria looked desperate. ‘No one.’
‘Do you know anyone called Mary?’
‘No!’ Her voice was rising and Carla believed her. Bremer gave her a look that said they needed to get going.
‘See you tomorrow, Gloria.’ She really hoped Gloria would recognise the woman in the CCTV, because the other explanation was far worse, yet it was one she kept coming back to – who would have known about the death of Connor’s baby, and then had access to the resources to connect Connor to Gloria’s flat, other than a police officer? And if it was an officer, Carla didn’t even want to start thinking of who it could be.
Twenty-four
They met in the office for a debrief. Nell picked up the desk fan and directed it at the base of her neck. Every item of clothing stuck to her and she didn’t dare to reveal her armpits because there wasn’t a deodorant invented that could fight this heat.
‘I want to let Kelly-Anne go.’
Nell lowered the fan and stared at Bremer. ‘Why? We haven’t done a second interview yet. Eve said she killed the baby and I think she saw him do it, so either way she’s involved. And we haven’t had enough phone data back yet to see if she’s also involved in Connor’s death.’
Bremer turned to Carla. ‘How long for the phone intel?’
‘It was a category-two request, so should be back tomorrow.’
‘Couldn’t you have run it as category one?’ Nell snapped, brushing off the warning look from Paul.
‘How? There was no threat to life. Connor was already dead.’
Nell knew Carla was right.
‘Can’t we hold her until tomorrow then?’ Nell had given Kelly-Anne the benefit of the doubt once before and Connor had turned up dead. She didn’t want to make that mistake again.
‘It’s no longer open for discussion, Nell.’
‘I respectfully disagree with this decision, sir.’
‘Noted. I’m going to let the custody sergeant know she’s free to go, then how about a wind-down in the pub? I think we all deserve it, don’t you?’
Nell couldn’t think of anything worse, but when Paul gave an enthusiastic response she knew she’d look sulky if she refused.
‘I can’t, I’m afraid,’ Carla said. ‘I’ve got a date night with Baz.’
‘Family first.’ Bremer smiled. ‘Meet the rest of you at the Jericho Tavern in half an hour.’
Nell was in the alley by the pub and wishing she was elsewhere when Bremer appeared.
‘May I?’ He gestured to the cigarette in her hand.
‘You smoke?’
‘I’m one of those irritating social smokers.’
She handed him the pack and the lighter, then watched as the flame lit up his face.
‘It must have been tough.’ He blew smoke into the still night air, refusing to catch her eye.
Tough? She studied his face for clues, but when he finally looked down at her she knew instantly what he meant. She also knew she’d give anything for him not to continue, but he did.
‘The stabbing.’
And there it was. Darren’s face in front of her. Six foot two. Tiger tattoo on the arm holding the knife.
She’d become separated from her team so it was just the two of them in the men’s toilets of a shitty little pub. She’d already had her baton up, but then he’d lunged, digging into her skin – searing pain, surprise, shouting, staring down at blood pouring like rain, falling—
Nell took a long drag of her cigarette. Why was he bringing this up now, didn’t they have enough to think about?
But of course she knew why. She cursed Paul for interfering.
‘Did you blame yourself for not wearing a vest,’ Bremer asked, ‘or the intel unit for not knowing you needed one?’
Did. Past tense. She almost laughed; nothing about that event was past tense.
‘I should have worn a vest.’
‘But?’
Nell stubbed out the cigarette with her boot. ‘But intel didn’t say I needed one.’
Bremer nodded. Took a drag. ‘The analyst missed it.’
There it was.
‘Yeah. I read the report before we kicked the door in. Nothing about a knife.’
She thought about the incisions he’d made in her body, always there, seen but not seen. Hard lumps of scar tissue that would never go away, though they might dull with age, hopefully like the memories.
‘From what I read, they did check, but missed it.’ Bremer was watching her carefully, as if judging her reaction to each word. ‘They did an officer safety check, ran the address through all the databases to see if any warning signs came up, but they got nothing. Then they double-checked on description and name, linking it with drugs and the name of the pub, but again, nothing.’
Nell lit up another cigarette. She felt oddly calm even though she could see Darren’s face as she fell to the ground: sneering, ugly, hate-filled. She remembered the heat around the incision, panic, hands cradling her as radios crackled.
She took another breath filled with smoke. ‘So how come they missed it? Because it was there – the court case told us that.’
‘It was the tattoo,’ Bremer replied. ‘They didn’t check it. The analyst should have run it through the database, which he did the next morning, and there was the intel report that described the perp exactly. No name on the report, but the tattoo was a giveaway, so he would have linked the two. And it warned he was known to carry a weapon. A knife.’ He let the words hang there, judging rightly she needed a moment to digest them.
Nell remembered when she’d finally woken up enough to understand why her body was wrapped in bandages, why the dull throb still made its way through the morphine, along with shock and fear.
‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought it up,’ Bremer said.
Nell shook her head, ‘No, I’m OK.’ She paused. ‘Do you think it affects my ability to do my job? Because if that’s why you mentioned it, it doesn’t. Months of therapy saw to that.’
‘I have no doubt that you are an exemplary officer. I just sensed an issue between you and Carla and I wondered if it had to do with past events. I need to m
ake sure the team runs smoothly, so I’d prefer any issues to be out in the open.’
Nell felt strangely let down that his concern wasn’t for her but for the team as a whole.
‘And I wanted to make sure you were OK,’ he added, reading her expression.
‘Carla wasn’t the analyst that missed it.’
Bremer didn’t reply. Shit. She was going to kill Paul for being right.
‘OK, I get your point. Maybe I was subconsciously –’ she stressed the word, ‘– linking Carla with past events.’ She made tiny quotation marks in the air. ‘I’ll keep a check on it.’
Bremer looked satisfied. ‘I place a lot of emphasis on intelligence-led policing and I’m more than happy to fully include civilians in the team. I don’t want that to be a problem.’
It felt like a question so Nell shook her head. ‘It isn’t. Carla’s a good analyst.’
‘She is. And you’re a good detective.’
‘Then why override me when I said we should keep Kelly-Anne in?’
Bremer’s expression didn’t change. ‘Because I think Eve has a few secrets we don’t know about and I think they relate to Connor’s murder.’ He looked down at her. ‘Maybe Kelly-Anne did help kill her baby. If so, she’ll go down for that. But she’s not a threat to anyone else and I don’t think she was a threat to Connor. Do you?’
Nell had to concede his point. ‘But then which of the other suspects are a better bet?’
‘Well, I’m sure things will become clearer as we progress.’ And he smiled his irritating smile, although now Nell didn’t seem to find it quite as irritating as she had before.
Twenty-five
Then
I’m running down the beach. It’s dark, but for some reason I don’t slip. I want to turn to Aoife and call back, but Alf is standing on the wall and I know he wants me to come to him.
‘Mary,’ she calls again and this time I stop. I look at Alf, then back to Aoife. She’s so far away I can hardly see her, but in her arms I notice a blanket clutched to her chest, and the kitten-like mew from the child wrapped within it carries itself to me on the wind.
When I Lost You Page 12