Backlash

by Lynda La Plante

  ‘Kumar’s representing him, isn’t he?’

  ‘Yeah, and straight up I can’t stand him. I think he’s schooling Oates but I can’t see why as he’s bang to rights for the murder of Justine Marks.’

  ‘Which he has admitted to?’

  ‘Well he’s lying, trying to say it was an accident. I went to the pathology and forensic labs after the prison visit and there’s a load of evidence against him for murder.’

  ‘Do you think Kumar might go for manslaughter on the grounds of diminished responsibility?’

  ‘There’s no medical history to show Oates is mentally unstable and Kumar hasn’t asked for pre-trial psychiatric reports.’

  ‘It’s early days, Mike. If you have evidence against Oates only for Justine Marks then Kumar knows there’s a good chance the CPS may accept a manslaughter plea on diminished.’

  ‘That’s Kumar and the court’s problem, but if that situation arises . . .’

  Anna pursed her lips and put up her hand to interrupt.

  ‘What was he like during the interviews?’ she asked.

  ‘His moods changed. At the station he went from calm to belligerent then visibly anxious, chewing his lip and tapping his foot.’

  ‘What about at the prison?’

  ‘He seemed depressed and avoided eye contact until I confronted him about how he knew Fidelis Julia Flynn was an exchange student.’

  ‘He may not have killed her. He could have met her legitimately and be frightened to say so as he thinks it would implicate him in her disappearance.’

  ‘You really know how to brighten up my day, Anna.’

  ‘Sorry, Mike, just being devil’s advocate. If Oates did kill Rebekka and Fidelis then he had to dispose of the bodies somehow, somewhere. If it wasn’t for the uniform officers stopping Oates Justine Marks could have been just another “Misper” statistic.’

  ‘We know he’s done some work on building sites but where and when is proving difficult to find out. He’s been virtually unemployed for ten years and claiming benefits, so anything extra was probably cash in hand.’

  ‘Well he can clearly drive so maybe he disposes of his victims locally.’

  ‘I know that, Anna, but with the length of time since both girls went missing and no confirmed locations it’s like looking for a needle in a haystack. I had a search unit check Hackney Marshes but they found nothing.’

  ‘Not much to go on then?’

  ‘You said it.’

  Anna stood and picked up her empty coffee cup.

  ‘You know what Langton always asks me, or used to ask me? He would always want to know what my gut feeling was. What’s yours?’

  Mike leaned back in his chair and swivelled from side to side. ‘Well he’s obviously lied about how Justine died. As for Rebekka and Fidelis, why confess to a crime you didn’t commit?’

  ‘Attention, notoriety maybe?’

  ‘Then why retract the confession?’

  Anna sighed and Mike raised his hands in a submissive gesture.

  ‘So in answer to your question, my gut feeling is uncertain. If you want to know what I really think about Henry Oates then read the post mortem report and let me know your gut feelings.’

  Mike handed the report to Anna as he got up from his chair and went over to the blinds to open them.

  ‘I will let the team know that you are investigating the Rebekka Jordan case while we concentrate on Fidelis Julia Flynn.’

  Mike opened the blinds and noticed that Barbara, Joan and Barolli were huddled together whispering to each other.

  ‘Do you want to do it together?’ Anna asked.

  ‘I don’t think there will be any need. These walls are paper-thin and by the looks of it that lot have been eavesdropping our conversation.’

  ‘Some things never change,’ Anna said with a smile.

  ‘Bet you’ll be glad of a bit of extra help from Travis,’ Barolli said as Mike entered the main office.

  ‘It’s DCI Travis, or ma’am, and that goes for you all and yes she will be heading up the Jordan investigation and you will give her your full cooperation as and when she asks for it.’

  As Mike Lewis briefed the team Anna went through the post mortem report and murder scene and mortuary photographs. What she saw made her stomach turn as she began to fully understand exactly how Mike felt about Henry Oates. He was a loathsome individual with no shred of humanity, who needed to be locked away for life. In wondering what drove men like Oates to such depravity she realized how little she or indeed Mike and the team actually knew about him.

  Anna went into the main office, put her files and briefcase on an empty desk and asked Joan to track down Henry Oates’s ex-wife in Scotland. She then turned to Barbara.

  ‘Get as much background as you can on Oates. I want you to go back five years. Start with his social security and National Insurance records – any child support, divorce, births; he’s got two children so there has to be something.’

  Barbara gave a hooded look to Joan over her computer but Anna was onto it fast.

  ‘That a problem for you, Barbara?’

  ‘No, it’s fine by me. In fact Mike had already asked for as much data as possible.’

  ‘Good. Paul, have you got a full list of all the items removed from Oates’s squat?’

  ‘Not yet. You want me to get on to the crime scene guys?’

  ‘Yes. Apart from it being a pigsty, from the photographs it looks to me as if he was a hoarder, maybe kept tokens from his victims, so they need to weed out women’s clothing, jewellery, anything that could link him to the two new cases.’

  ‘I’ll give them a push to get cracking.’

  ‘Is Pete Jenkins still at the lab?’

  ‘Yeah, in fact he’s dealing with our case. You want to talk to him?’

  ‘Ask him if he could make it a priority for his staff to list and check everything that was taken in. Say I’ll talk to him later today.’

  Anna began sorting through the Jordan family statements, thumbing backwards and forwards. Although five years had passed they were, at the time, obviously well off; they had a large three-storey detached house with a Filipino live-in domestic helper, a gardener, and a cleaner that came in twice a week. Mrs Emily Jordan did not work, but had been an interior designer before her marriage to Stephen Jordan, a graphic designer. He had offices in Canary Wharf and often worked from home, using the loft conversion as an extended office. Rebekka, their only daughter, was a day pupil at a private school in Knightsbridge. Her two older brothers had been at boarding school and were not at home when she went missing.

  As Anna was wondering how much their family life and relationships had changed since the disappearance of Rebekka, Joan approached her, excitedly waving a piece of paper.

  ‘I have a contact number and address for Henry Oates’s ex-wife. She is working at a dry-cleaner’s in Glasgow. As for his two daughters, the eldest, aged eighteen, is in drug rehab and the other, only sixteen, is six months pregnant.’

  ‘That was fast. Good work.’

  ‘I spoke with the Department for Work and Pensions and they put me in touch with the Glasgow housing association. Mrs Eileen Oates has a criminal record here in London for prostitution and drug abuse. It appears she’s now drug-free with no arrests or convictions for nine years.’

  ‘Thanks, Joan. Did you speak to her personally?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Okay, I’ll do that and in the meantime can you get me a contact number for a DCI on the Glasgow murder squad?’

  ‘Yes, ma’am.’

  Mike Lewis drew up the blinds from his office window and tapped to indicate he wanted to talk to Anna. It irritated her slightly that he couldn’t walk the few steps from his office to ask her, but crooked a finger instead; it reminded her of the way Langton often did it.

  ‘You wanted to see me,’ she said, entering Mike’s office without knocking.

  He held up the phone, covering the mouthpiece with his hand. ‘It’s Langton, he wants t
o talk to you.’

  ‘Oh thank you.’

  Mike walked out, closing the door. She sat behind the desk and waited a moment before she spoke into the phone.

  ‘DCI Travis.’

  ‘Listen, I’ve just had a lengthy talk to Mike. My feelings are these: it’s a no-brainer the fact they have Oates bang to rights for the murder of Justine Marks.

  ‘Mike told me about his latest interview with Oates and my take on the bastard is this: the more visits he gets and the more attention we give him, the more he’s going to string us along. I don’t think he’s mentally unstable and anyway Mike tells me Kumar hasn’t raised the issue of pre-trial psychiatric reports.’

  ‘I think it’s only a matter of time, though, and it would be in his client’s best interests,’ Anna replied.

  ‘This is what I want the team to concentrate on. We need hard evidence that ties Oates into the two other murders he claimed to have committed.’

  ‘It’s hard without him giving us more details.’

  Langton snapped and raised his voice. ‘If he killed them he’s dumped the bodies, so he will have left evidence. Find it, find them, it’ll surface. When you have the evidence apply for a break in police custody from the prison, bring him in and scare the living daylights out of him.’

  ‘What about a BIA to help with the interview strategy?’

  ‘A BI what . . .?’

  ‘Behavioural Investigative Adviser – they provide support and advice that links the academic basis of behavioural science to the investigation of serious crime.’

  ‘You mean a profiler. No fucking way.’

  ‘They are now police-accredited psychologists and might help us to understand Oates’s way of thinking. We often recommend them on case reviews.’

  ‘If you need a shrink to tell you how to interview a suspect then I suggest you go back to your desk at Specialist Casework. If Oates wants to play at being crazy you find the evidence to show he’s a devious bastard who knew exactly what he was doing. Remind him what happened to Peter Sutcliffe the Yorkshire Ripper – the judge rejected diminished responsibility and the expert testimonies of four psychiatrists who all thought he was a paranoid schizo.’

  ‘That was thirty years ago, things have changed and—’

  ‘Yeah and thirty years later he’s still in Broadmoor, so if Oates or Kumar think they can pull one over on us then they’re both mistaken. You been to see the Jordans yet?’

  ‘I’m still reading the case file. I need—’

  ‘Get it done and go and see them.’

  He hung up and Anna was left infuriated with the phone in her hand. Langton’s pent-up anger was fuelled by alcohol or his medication, she thought. She had just replaced the handset when Mike returned.

  He cocked his head to one side. ‘You look as if you got a similar tirade. If you ask me he needs a psychological assessment.’

  Anna didn’t mention that she too had concerns about Langton. Mike took off his jacket and started to roll up the cuffs of his shirtsleeves.

  ‘I suggested bringing in a BIA.’

  ‘I can guess what his reply was. He thinks they’re full of crap.’

  ‘I told him it might help us to understand Oates . . .’

  ‘Well that’s between you and Langton, but for now we should do what he suggests. See if there is any evidence we can track down, and in the meantime we let Oates stew. As we agreed, you take Rebekka Jordan and I’ll concentrate on Fidelis Julia Flynn. We can compare what we uncover for any similarities or links in their disappearance as the investigation progresses.’

  ‘Whatever you say, Mike.’

  ‘It’s not me, but Langton, and whatever I think about him right now, he’s still got more years of experience than either of us. You know what I really find unnerving . . .?’

  She shook her head, nonplussed.

  ‘He’s never met Oates, right? Yet he seems to have more of an angle on him than I have.’

  Mike informed the team that he and Barolli would concentrate on Fidelis Julia Flynn with the assistance of half the team while Anna concentrated on the Jordan case with the other half. Barbara and Joan were to receive all the incoming information from both teams, update the HOLMES computer, mark up the incident board and identify any similarities in the girls’ disappearance or connections to Oates which could then be raised and discussed in a full team meeting.

  Adan Kumar had contacted Mike to say that Henry Oates would not, at the present time, be fit for further interview. Mike immediately thought the solicitor had asked for a psychiatric assessment but it transpired that Oates was currently in the prison hospital recovering from an assault in the shower room which had left him with severe bruising and concussion. Oates, naive about prison life, was unaware that even remand sex offenders are marked men and had made the mistake of boasting to other inmates that not only was he awaiting trial for murder and rape but was also suspected of the abduction and murder of a teenage girl. Mike felt no sympathy for Oates’s predicament but was inwardly pleased that the incident would give him breathing space to continue his investigation whilst keeping Kumar, who now wanted to vent his anger on the prison service, off his back.

  Anna, like Mike, felt no sympathy for Oates. She looked again at the information about his ex-wife who had left London eight years ago. She was trying to determine whether or not it would be worth it to travel to Glasgow for an interview. She decided that she’d first have the meeting with Rebekka Jordan’s family, as she wanted to find out if, by any chance, Henry Oates had worked for them, perhaps done odd jobs around their home, anything that could be a direct link to him. She knew that she would have to tell the Jordans about Oates’s arrest and the possibility he might be involved in their daughter’s disappearance. She was not looking forward to the visit as she knew that she would be reawakening the most terrible memories for the Jordans and the last thing she wanted to do was give them false hope that Rebekka’s body might at last be found. Anna decided that she would not divulge the details of what happened to Justine Marks, but just say that Oates was awaiting trial for her murder.

  Chapter Four

  The Jordan family were still in the same house in Hammersmith. Anna’s call had, as she knew it would, made a deep impact on Emily Jordan. Before she’d even rung the bell, the door was open wide.

  ‘I am Detective Chief Inspector Anna Travis. Thank you for agreeing to see me.’

  ‘Please come in. Stephen will be right down, he’s working upstairs.’

  Anna was led through the narrow hallway into a long, eye-catching and modern galley-style kitchen with a black-and-white tiled floor and black granite worktops. The Aga, along with all the wooden cabinets and cupboards, was white with every large kitchen appliance integrated into the design. A sizeable T-shaped dining and relaxation area had clearly been added as an extension to the original kitchen. It had a glass-domed roof which filled the room with natural light and French doors that opened out onto a small but well-maintained garden. There was a white two-seater sofa and small television in one corner and the walls were adorned with large blow-up photographs of two handsome blond boys and many of Rebekka, one of which had a string of paper daisies threaded around the frame.

  Emily had coffee brewing and Anna accepted a cup of lovely fresh Brazilian. As Emily offered her a plate of home-baked biscuits, her hand shook. Stephen Jordan then walked in and directly introduced himself. He was a very handsome man, wearing a pale blue cashmere jumper and old brown cord trousers, with dark blue suede loafers and no socks. Stephen had dark hair with flecks of grey at the sides and soft brown expressive eyes. In contrast his wife had pale blue eyes with silky thick blonde hair down to her shoulders. She was wearing jeans and a chequered shirt, and was taller than Anna, at least five feet eight or nine, and very slender. They made a very elegant couple and she saw him catch his wife’s hand gently as he sat on the arm of the sofa. Emily remained standing.

  ‘I want to be totally open with you both and explain why I am her
e,’ Anna began. ‘I wish I had more information for you, as what I do have isn’t much to give you any comfort and for that I am deeply sorry.’

  They looked at each other, and their pain, the pain that Langton had described, was plainly still extremely raw. She could feel it.

  Anna knew that she had to be careful not to mention the name of Henry Oates or his legal team could dismiss any identification the Jordans might make. So she explained to them that they might have seen in the papers or on TV that police had arrested and charged a man with the abduction and murder of Justine Marks, and that during interview this man had said that he had killed two other women: a girl he referred to as Julia and their daughter Rebekka. Anna told them that she was taking the admissions very seriously and would be making a full and thorough investigation. Neither of the Jordans spoke, but Stephen’s hand gripped his wife’s more tightly.

  ‘However, he now claims that both admissions were a lie and the only reason he made them was for a laugh as he had read all the media coverage about Rebekka at the time she went missing.’

  Still they remained silent.

  ‘He has been re-interviewed but given us no further details and now still denies any involvement in your daughter’s disappearance. I have a photograph that I would like you to look at to see if you recognize him or can give his face a name.’

  Anna opened her briefcase as Stephen stood up, releasing his wife’s hand. He delved into his pocket and took out a pair of glasses as Anna handed him the photograph of Henry Oates. They stood very close together, both looking at the picture, and then Stephen turned to Anna.

  ‘No, I don’t recall ever seeing anyone like this.’

  He passed the photograph back to Anna.

  ‘I’m afraid I don’t either. It’s the sort of face I think one would remember,’ Emily said.

  As she replaced the photograph into her file Anna asked them if the name Henry Oates was familiar to them but they both said no. She sipped her coffee and looked over to the extension. ‘How long ago was your extension built?’

  Stephen hesitated, and it was Emily who said that it was six years ago and completed just before Rebekka went missing.