by Jay Nadal
“And there’s an interesting observation worth considering. As a starting point, they can create an edge play scenario where they bypass enough mental safety features to give the submissive the impression that almost anything could happen. They are left feeling like there are aspects to the other person’s behaviour or the environment that are truly out of their control, unpredictable.”
A different impression of Linda formed in Scott’s mind. She enjoyed risky sexual encounters and would try new things. Fuelled by fantasies and a broad mind, she used online dating to satisfy her needs.
“Until we get more information from Cardiff police, we focus on Linda’s murder. This is about looking into her life, and her connections. Judging from these…” Scott waved the printouts. “We now know Linda had a very complex life and a healthy, or unhealthy, whichever way you see it, sex life.”
Helen continued. “She was on two websites. Wife Banger, and Dip and Lick. You can’t see her face clearly. She used a sideway profile pic, with her hair brushed across her face. The other pictures show her in various stages of undress, along with full frontals, and her small tattoo is visible.”
A collective murmur of laughter fills the silence.
“How do companies come up with these names?” Raj speculated. “Dip…And…Lick. Really?”
The others smiled and laughed.
“Her bank records confirm that she had been paying twenty-seven pounds a month for Wife Banger for a six-month subscription. She had only joined Dip and Lick nineteen days ago, so she was on their free one-month trial. I’m in the process of contacting the companies to see if we can identify who she was talking to on both sites. But I’ve worked on a case like this in my last job, and one thing they pride themselves on is protecting their users’ identities. They won’t be keen on releasing information.”
Scott asked Helen to keep him informed.
“Mike, anymore from the search team?”
Mike shook his head. “I’m afraid not, Guv. There’s no sign of her underwear, skirt or shoes. Whilst we have the extra manpower, they’re extending the search area. We don’t have time on our side. The DCI could call off the search any time now.”
“One last thing, go back over all our missing persons files, and see if there are any single mums with young children who have gone missing and shared similar sexual preferences to Linda.”
After the briefing, Scott caught up with Abby by her desk. “Are you up to speed with everything?”
Abby blew out her cheeks. “With the case, yes. But I still have eighteen case file reviews to do. The twenty-eight-day review markers have popped up. What’s your thoughts on the case? Do you think it’s linked to Cardiff?”
Scott raised his hands in front of him. “I think they are. They’re too similar not be connected. We should know more once we have the DNA analysis. I’m hoping we hear from forensics within the next few hours.”
“Hey, listen. I wondered about the apartment in Spain. Do you think Cara’s friend would allow me to rent off her once or twice a year?”
“You liked it?”
Abby grinned and rolled her eyes towards the ceiling. “Liked it? More like loved it. The kids were so happy, Guv. I’ve not seen them so happy in years.”
Scott smiled. “That’s because they were enjoying quality time with their mum. It didn’t matter where you were. You could have been in Bognor and they still would have loved it.”
She laughed. “I doubt Bognor would have the same appeal. I’m being serious. Maybe I need to be saving, so that I can treat the kids to a break in the sun every year.”
“I think that’s a great idea. Cara’s friend rents it out all the time, so I can’t see that as a problem. You’d get mates’ rates anyway. Besides, it would do you a world of good. You look so much happier and healthier.”
Abby scrunched her face. “I was a pasty shit before?”
They both broke into loud thunderous laughter, much to the consternation of the others.
“Right, get yourself sorted. We need to see Linda’s mum and then track down Richards and Dalca.”
15
“How’s Jonathon these days? You don’t seem to say much about him. Everything going okay?” Scott asked as he queued in traffic.
Abby stared out of the passenger window in silence, watching everyday life going on around her. By the look on her face, she was deep in concentration, thinking about something. He could spot that look from a mile away whenever she narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips.
“Yeah, everything is fine. We try to see each other as much as we can. But we don’t spend near enough time together to make a proper go, if you know what I mean?”
Scott knew that feeling and dropped his head to one side as he glanced across at her. “Well, hopefully that can change. Now we’re adjusting your shift patterns and hours, it should give you more flexibility, and more importantly, some of your life back.”
Abby didn’t reply, offering a simple nod.
Oh, she’s in deep reflective thought. Scott hoped it was good rather than bad. He didn’t want to broach the subject about her leaving. He imagined it wouldn’t take much to push her to leave. And that was something he couldn’t afford to risk.
“What’s your take on the married man?” she asked.
“I’m not sure, to be honest. I’m just as much in the dark as you are. He has money because Leo’s room has been furnished with no expense spared. Maybe he was helping financially with the kid, and they fell out about that?”
“That’s a definite possibility. It seems to be a bit of a mess, doesn’t it? Two exes, a married lover, and someone she met online. And that person could be anybody. For all we know, he might live out of town.”
“The problem we’ve got is that most of her messages were in WhatsApp. Not only is that encrypted end-to-end, but the majority were deleted from her phone. Her email messages only confirmed that she had received a new message from each new person who contacted her. Without her passwords, we have no way of accessing the two online dating apps on her phone.”
Claire Allen lived in a small, unassuming terraced house to the west of the city centre. A small paved driveway offered just a few feet of space between the front door and the road. Scott and Abby skirted around the black dustbin, overflowing with black bin liners. A ring on the doorbell was swiftly answered by a dark-haired woman with thinly plucked eyebrows, wearing a black top and a loud green jacket. She had thin lips, and a pronounced chin, and with high cheekbones, her face looked hardened.
Her eyes flitted between the two officers on her doorstep. She didn’t give Scott an opportunity to finish introducing himself before she butted in. “Your lot have already been round.”
With an acid tone, she showed no signs of grief over losing her daughter. Her words were abrupt and lacked emotion.
“May we come in, Mrs Allen? It’s in connection with the death of your daughter.”
She nodded over her shoulder to invite them in. “Well, you aren’t gonna be here for anything else, are ya?” she asked as she disappeared into the hallway, leaving Abby to close the door behind her.
Abby rolled her eyes in Scott’s direction.
She led them into the front lounge which, though small, was clean. The room had a laminate floor offering a contemporary feel, and the furniture was neutral, blending into the cream-coloured walls.
“Can I get you something to drink?” she offered.
Scott declined, but thanked her. “We are sorry for your loss and would like to reassure you that we’re doing everything we can to identify what happened to her.”
“That’s a little too late, don’t you think? She’s gone. What difference is that gonna make to her, me, or to her kids?”
Scott nodded sympathetically. “I appreciate your pain. But a crime has been committed resulting in the loss of life, your daughter. We have a duty to investigate and find the person, or persons responsible.”
Claire nodded. She turned her gaze away from Scot
t and stared out of the window. Everyday life carried on just a few feet away from them. “She never was lucky when it came to men. Linda always picked the wrong one. She had a bit of get up and go. A free spirit, if you know what I mean. And it always got her into trouble.”
Abby made notes but was drawn to the pictures of Linda and her children on the windowsill. Happier times, with Linda cradling her new-born baby, and Shannon tucked in beside her side.
“Did she always have difficult relationships?”
“As far back as I can remember, Inspector. Even back at school, her boyfriends were a waste of space. They hung around in gangs smoking weed and being a general nuisance. Linda found that cool. She loved the attention.”
“And what was your relationship like with Linda?” Scott chose to leave out the timeframe, knowing Linda and her mum had spoken little in the past year.
Claire’s face soured as if she’d eaten a lemon slice. Her shoulders stiffened as she pulled them back, forcing her spine upright. “We haven’t been on speaking terms, or seen eye to eye for a little while, to be honest. She could be a bit of a bloody hothead.” Claire laughed, breaking the sombre mood. “I guess she got that from me.”
“What caused the rift between you?”
Claire shrugged avoiding Scott’s gaze. “I got fucked off with her love life. She wouldn’t listen. She never did. I didn’t want her marrying Richards. He was a right shitbag, and everyone knew it. I tried to warn her off. He was known around town for being free with his fists, but would she listen? Would she fuck!” Claire shook her head. “And no doubt you’ve already found out he caught her in bed with someone, and smashed the fucking place up, including her.”
“Who was she in bed with?”
Claire shrugged again. “No idea. Maybe someone she met down the pub or met through work. Who knows?” Her eyes briefly engaged with Scott before she nervously flicked them away.
Scott didn’t miss that. That she’d hardly maintained eye contact with him since arriving was odd. It was a classic sign of someone hiding something. The phrase ‘eyes are the windows to the soul’ flashed through his thoughts.
She filled the brief silence quickly by continuing her story. “Dalca wasn’t much better. He was a lazy tosser. He didn’t treat her much better. I’ll give him his dues; he didn’t hit her or nothing. But I think it was a non-starter from the beginning. He was a weirdo to be honest. Linda said he preferred watching hard-core porn than going anywhere near her. And trust me, she tried. She kept telling me how she threw herself at him. He just wasn’t interested most of the time. I don’t know why. She was a good-looking girl. She said they had sex once in a blue moon. He even gave me the eye.”
“At what point did the two of you fall out?” Scott asked.
Claire shook her head in disgust. “When she knocked about with a married man. I drew the line there. I made it very clear I disapproved. She told me it was none of my business, and that he made her happy. What can I do? She’s a grown-up woman, not a fifteen-year-old.”
“Did she ever mention a name to you?”
There it was again, another fleeting glance, before her eyes darted away.
“Nope. She wouldn’t tell me. We had a few arguments after that, and she got fucked off with me sticking my beak in. Then she had Leo. I told her I wasn’t happy about not knowing who the father was. I didn’t know if it was Dalca or the married man. We didn’t talk after that.”
Scott leant up against the side of the car and looked up and down the street as Abby shuffled around on the pavement.
“She’s not happy about Leo, or who the father is,” Abby said.
“There was something she wasn’t telling us.”
“How so?”
“Did you not notice how she didn’t look at me, or you for that matter, throughout most of our visit? She was scared that her face might give something away.”
“Like what?” Abby asked.
“I don’t know. But this married man has something to do with it. The sooner we track down his identity, the better it is for us. If you look at Linda’s kids, they have both been brought up differently. Shannon’s clothes, her room, and even the way she looks, are in complete contrast to Leo. Shannon gets the rejects and cheap stuff. Leo on the other hand, has a beautiful room, an expensive cot, and better clothes. Why would she treat him differently to how she brought up Shannon?”
Standing behind the curtain and anxiously biting her thumbnail, Claire Allen watched the officers drive away. The last thing she needed was for them to turn around and come back with more questions.
When she was sure they were away, she lifted the mobile phone in her trembling hand and stared at the blank screen for what felt like minutes. Finally, she flicked through her contacts and pressed the green dial button. She had already rehearsed her words. This needed to be handled delicately. Bringing up Shannon would cost her a lot of money, and she knew exactly what she needed. There would be no mention that Leo didn’t fit into her plans; she’d worry about that later.
16
It never ceased to surprise Scott how normality returned so quickly in the wake of any tragic event. The quiet cul-de-sac was no different. The postman did his rounds, an elderly couple unloaded their weekly shopping, and offered nothing more than a quick, cursory glance as Scott and Abby pulled up outside Jackie Cartwright’s home. Small floral bouquets lay on Linda Allen’s doorstep, a silent tribute from neighbours.
Jackie made tea for them before settling down on a sofa facing the officers. She cupped her mug in both hands, grasping it tight like a prized possession, worried she’d drop it through her trembling fingers.
“How are you holding up?” Abby asked.
Jackie shook her head, and stared at the brown steaming liquid, unable to find the right words. It was as if her mouth wouldn’t communicate her thoughts.
“Thank you for taking the time to formally identify her body. I know it couldn’t have been easy for you.”
“I…I…” She shook her head again. Shock penetrated her to the core. Jackie was white as chalk. Her eyes and mouth frozen wide open in stunned surprise. Although she looked up at Abby, she appeared not to notice her at all.
“I know it comes as a shock, but it will take time to sink in. If there’s anything we can do, you only have to call us,” Abby reassured her.
The house had an airy silence. The children were in the care of social services.
Jackie nodded appreciatively. “I…just can’t believe it. Just a few days ago she was here getting her hair done, and the next time I see her, she’s looking like a waxwork dummy from Madame Tussauds.”
“I want to reassure you we are doing everything we can to find out what happened to her. That’s why we need your help.”
“She didn’t deserve this. No woman deserves this. I don’t want to know the sickening details of what happened to her, and I don’t suppose you’ll tell me anyway. But it scares the fucking daylights out of me that there’s a murderer out there. What happens if he knows where she lived? What happens if he’d stalked her and saw her coming over to my place? Am I in danger?”
Her eyes searched Scott and Abby for an answer, seeking their reassurance, and hoping for their protection, before continuing.
“I’ll be honest with you; I’m scared. Every time the door knocks, I shit myself. It dawned on me this morning…what if I’m next?” Her voice cracked, straining under the nerves that twisted her bowels, and sent waves of panic through her like a storm surge.
“We are hoping this is just an isolated and random attack.”
Jackie didn’t let Abby finish her sentence. “Hoping? Hoping?” she fumed with wide eyes.
“I know it may feel like a concern for you,” Abby reassured her. “But if there’s anything that worries you, you only need to call. And that’s why we need your help.”
Abby wanted to use Jackie’s fear and concern to their advantage. In desperation, Jackie would be more than willing to tell them anything she could
that would help protect herself and restore normality to her life.
“There is nothing you need to feel bad about. No one could have predicted this outcome, not you, not Linda.” Scott added.
“I know, I know. But she was always moaning about feeling lonely, so I told her to be a bit forward. And if it was love that she was looking for, then she needed to go out and find it. Maybe if I hadn’t encouraged her, then whoever she met wouldn’t have killed her?”
Scott needed to push harder. Jackie was the closest source of information and could provide the vital new insights that the team searched for. “We know you spoke at length with DC Helen Swift, but we want to clarify a few points. Linda had a decent amount of replies to her profile on two adult contact websites we found. Did she say much about them?”
“She said she’d joined a few sites. It seemed to buoy her. She kept saying she still had it because she had so much interest.”
“Do you recall her mentioning anything about the personal ads to anyone else other than yourself?”
“No, she swore me to secrecy. She said only I knew, and her mate at work, Aluna.”
“Did she ever show you any of the replies?”
“Only a few. Most of the ones I saw just had pictures of men’s cocks and captions like, “fancy getting your lips around this?” How’s that for an opening line?”
Scott nodded, rolling his eyes. He often wondered what men hoped to achieve by sending pictures of their genitals to random strangers. “And still nothing springs out about the man Richards found in bed with her?”
Jackie shook her head. “I can’t help you on that front. She kept that one tight to her chest. I can only imagine that she met him at work, or through work, or something like that, because she hardly ever went out. Not that I’m a nosey neighbour, or anything like that, but in a cul-de-sac, you can see who comes and goes. She hardly had any visitors.”