by Joy Ellis
Almost tenderly, “Auntie” laid a creamy-brown long bone into a box, and stared at it thoughtfully. ‘As a rough estimate, twenty years, maybe more.’
Jackman wondered who on earth this girl was, and why she had been important enough to risk exhuming her from her legitimate grave to bring her here. It was bizarre.
Rory handed Jackman a sheet of paper. ‘I’ve had one of my techies prepare this for you, rather than wait for the full report. I thought you might be able to get on and make some preliminary searches.’ He pointed to the list. On it were all the details from the cards, and a clear description of the clothes that had been so lovingly stored. Jackman knew that those clothes would be vital for final identification. It was not just the trace evidence that would no doubt still be present. Everyone remembered exactly what a child was wearing when they went missing.
‘Thanks, Rory. I really appreciate that.’ Jackman placed it carefully in his pocket.
‘No problem. And I should think you will be able to have your scene back by tonight, as long as logistics can work out a way of transporting my patients off this marsh. They are talking about a fleet of all-terrain vehicles getting as close as they dare, and the bodies being ferried by stretcher bearers from the tunnels to the vehicles. It sounds like the evacuation of the WWI trenches! Anyway, it has all been photographed, documented, swept and dusted, and everything of importance bagged and tagged. Hopefully, the residents themselves will be transferred into my tender care at the hospital by tonight, and then our real work can begin.’ He stood back. ‘Now, dear friends, I must ask you most respectfully, to bugger off and let me get on.’
Jackman grinned, thanked him again, and they began the long trek back through the tunnel.
* * *
As soon as Gary saw Jackman and Marie arrive, he jumped up, followed them into the office and closed the door. ‘Sorry, sir, but I think there is something very unpleasant going on over at Harlan Marsh.’
‘It involves Cade?’ Marie almost spat the name out.
Gary sat down heavily opposite his new boss. ‘He has taken personal command of the drinking club investigation, and he’s keeping things very close to his chest. My mate has been drafted into his team to help them.’
‘Does he think Cade is protecting someone?’ asked Jackman.
‘He thought so to begin with, but now he’s really worried. Take a look at this. It’s a scan of one of the pictures that Cade commandeered. My friend emailed it to me.’ He took a sheet of paper from his inside pocket, unfolded it and passed it across the desk. ‘Do you remember it? It’s where young Nick Barley is talking to two men.’
‘The one where you and Marie both thought you recognised one of them?’
Gary nodded. ‘Look closely, sir. This man is obscured by the shadow from the building, but I don’t think it’s one of Cade’s buddies at all. I think it is Cade himself.’
Gary lowered his voice. ‘And guess what? Shortly after my friend got hold of it, the original disappeared. And the CCTV tape met with an unfortunate accident.’ He pointed to the picture. ‘No one knows about this and now, sir, it’s the only copy.’
Jackman snatched the picture up and peered at it. ‘My God! It’s not clear enough to challenge him on, but I’d say you are right!’
Marie leaned over and took it from him. ‘So that’s who it reminded me of,’ she whispered. ‘The bastard!’ She looked up. ‘Boss, I’ve heard that there’s software now available that can compare the shape and dimensions of the man in that picture. It doesn’t have to be perfect, just as long as part of it is complete. The program just fills in the gaps. All we need is another photo of Cade for comparison, and we could identify him.’
‘And do we have that kind of technology?’
‘We don’t, but the university does. Ted was telling me they use a similar package in his department.’
Jackman frowned. ‘We’d be operating well outside the regulations if we did that. We’d have to be extremely careful. Can you imagine the furore if it got out? And supposing we’d got it wrong? We’d all lose our jobs for starters.’
‘The words “shit” and “fan” spring to mind. But if a senior officer is bent, we have to know.’ Marie looked at Gary. ‘You’ve worked for him. We all know he’s a slimeball, but do you think it’s possible he’s mixed up in something as serious as this?’
Gary did not hesitate. ‘Yes, Sarge, I do. I’d stake my pension on it.’
Jackman looked as though he was sucking a lemon. ‘So the next question is, just how involved is he? Is he at the margin, just getting his rocks off watching some dirty sex, or is he in deeper? Although I doubt he had anything to do with the actual abductions. Surely even Cade wouldn’t sink that low?’
‘Young Toni said she’d been to these gatherings several times, but she’d never seen the man who took her to the bogus “party” before.’ Gary raised his eyebrows. ‘This is just a thought, but would Toni recognise Cade if we showed her his photo?’
‘We can’t do that, Gary,’ said Marie. ‘If anyone found out, they’d throw the book at us. They would say we were putting ideas into her head. And she’d recognise him anyway. Don’t forget he’s a friend of her father.’
‘But I’m willing to bet that Cade is only pals with Neil Clarkson because of the money he donates to police coffers. Somehow I don’t think they socialise outside Lodge meetings. They couldn’t be more different.’ Jackman gave a humourless laugh.
‘So are you suggesting that we show her his photo, sir?’ Marie asked.
‘It’s very risky, and we certainly couldn’t do it with her parents around. With all these deaths, we really don’t have time for this, but,’ Jackman shrugged, ‘I do believe we ought to do it.’
He looked at Gary.
‘This will be totally off the record, and you don’t have to be part of it. Your job will be in jeopardy if you’re caught.’
Gary took a deep breath and straightened up. ‘I’ll risk it, sir. I know things about Cade that only a man who’d worked with him would. I’m ready to go out on a limb.’
‘If you’re absolutely sure? Toni really liked you. In the hospital she trusted you more than anyone. Okay, you talk to her, and in private.’ Jackman paused. ‘And I don’t think it’s the right time to tell her about Emily, unless she asks straight out. I’ll leave that up to you.’
Gary gave a nod. ‘I’ll play it by ear. But could I say something before I go?’
‘Of course.’
Gary took a deep breath. ‘All this photo stuff is fine. Of course we must follow it up, and I’m certain we could prove it is Cade. But I know him, and he’ll wriggle out of it somehow. I think the only way is to catch him red-handed. We need to go back undercover, to another one of those illegal parties, and arrest him in situ.’
There was a silence. Then Jackman drew in a long breath. ‘Get Rosie and Max in here.’
‘But, sir?’ Marie half stood, and then sat down again.
‘I know you don’t like this, Marie, and neither will Max, I’m sure, but Gary is right. We need to go back in.’
* * *
Max, as expected, was not happy, but Rosie was immediately on the phone to her new clubbing buddy, Will, and arranging to meet him.
‘He loves his brother, and he’ll be just as glad as us to see the drinking club closed down.’ She looked at Jackman. ‘I trust him, he’s a nice kid, and I think he’ll forgive me for lying to him. I’m sure he’ll help us.’
‘Since there’s no way to stop this happening, I’ll go with Rosie this time,’ said Max. ‘And don’t worry, I’ll make a real effort with my appearance to blend in.’
‘Then we watch for the texts. It won’t be for a few days, but as soon as we get the message, we’ll go in.’
‘And if Cade’s there, we hit the place with every officer we can spare,’ added Marie grimly. ‘In the meantime, I’ll organise the photo evidence with Ted.’
‘This sounds more like the sergeant we all know and love,’ said Jackman.
/> ‘Frankly, sir, if we do take Cade down, I’ll be dressing up and dancing on the table.’
* * *
As he closed the door behind him, Gary suddenly realised just how much he hated Chief Superintendent Cade. The man had been around for so long he’d learned to live with him, like a disability or a terrible illness. Cade’s rank and the powerful men that he mixed with, made him seem untouchable. Gary had thought things would never change. But now they had the chance to finally bring him down.
Gary went to his desk and switched on the computer. If he got this right — and he knew exactly how to go about it — he could right an awful lot of wrongs.
A determined smile spread across his face. He was very glad he’d come to work with DI Jackman in Saltern-le-Fen.
* * *
Jackman hoped he was doing the right thing. Risking his own job was one thing, but allowing others to do the same was quite another. He looked anxiously at Marie. ‘Do you trust Ted Watchman?’
Marie nodded vigorously. ‘I do.’
‘Then go find him. See what is needed for that photo comparison, and tell him we need total discretion. This cannot get back to anyone, here or anywhere else. Okay?’
Marie nodded again and left the room.
Jackman turned to Max and Charlie. ‘Could you two gather up as many free hands as you can from CID? We need to compare this list against missing persons and unsolved cases.’ He handed Max the paper Rory Wilkinson had given him. ‘We have clothing, first names and partial dates of birth, so we need to start identifying the victims as quickly as possible. Tell them I want their findings as soon as they have them. And, Max, you are to concentrate on a young woman who had a severely deformed lower leg and foot. We believe she was the first to die, maybe twenty years ago.’ He paused for breath.
‘And, Charlie, please ask Clive to contact whoever is on duty at Benedict Broome’s house to find me a sample of Elizabeth Sewell’s handwriting. Now I have the unenviable task of grovelling to the super about using that psychologist. And I think she’ll like that idea about as much as an ice-water enema.’
As Jackman walked to the lifts he glanced at his watch. The FMO at Harlan Marsh had promised to ring as soon as Micah Lee was fit for interview, and he hadn’t. Knowing what he now knew, Jackman wondered if the hold-up had something to do with Cade. He still found it hard to understand why he would risk so much — a high-powered job with untold fringe benefits and a bloody good pension — just to watch a few teenagers groping each other in the dark. It was all too much to take on board, especially when he had a psychopathic killer, thirteen murder victims, as well as suspects to interview. Suddenly Jackman stopped short.
Christ! Had he sent Micah Lee to Harlan Marsh, right into the tender care of a man who knew all about him?
With a dry mouth he hurried towards the super’s office. This case was taking them into very dangerous waters indeed, and it was up to him to steer them through to safety. He just hoped he was up to it.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Gary had a satisfied smile on his lips. With no hesitation, Toni had picked out Cade from the ten mugshots he showed her. As Gary walked back towards his old Suzuki, another car was drawing up at the Clarksons’ house.
‘Ethan Barley! What brings you to this young lady’s door?’ Gary greeted the young man.
Ethan grinned broadly. ‘Got back together with Toni.’
‘Yuk!’ From the passenger seat, Nick Barley was pulling a face at his brother.
‘Don’t you approve?’ Gary asked with a smile.
‘Ah, it’s okay I suppose. Maybe it’ll keep him off my back.’
Ethan told his brother to stay put, he’d only be a few minutes, then he loped up the path towards the house. Gary took a long look at Nick and decided to take a gamble. ‘Do me a favour, son?’
Nick looked suspicious.
‘I just wondered if you recognised anyone on this.’
Gary had been very careful. He had reproduced a close-up picture of James Cade from a police magazine. He had copied it and cropped out all trace of a uniform, so that Cade looked like any other civilian. Then he had taken nine photos of random individuals from old cases, added them to the “rogue’s gallery” and produced a perfect ID sheet.
‘Anyone you know?’
Nick looked closely. ‘Just one. That git there. But he never looked that tidy.’
Gary’s heart jumped. The boy had fingered Cade!
Nick Barley handed the paper back. ‘He was often hanging around with the bloke who got me to copy the keys, and he was at the party in the crypt.’
‘So how does he dress?’
‘Always the same. Greased back hair, glasses, scruffy black chinos, a dark polo shirt and a black nylon tracksuit top.’
Gary felt sick. That was the description Rosie had given of the man she recognised, but couldn’t place. She had actually seen Cade at a party! And hopefully Cade hadn’t recognised Rosie.
‘Dirty bastard,’ grunted Nick. ‘Is he the one that spiked Ethan’s bird’s drink?’
‘Could be, Nicholas. And maybe he’s done far worse than that.’ Gary paused for a moment, then added, ‘Would you testify?’
‘What? Go to court? Fucking hell!’ The boy’s eyes widened.
‘It could do you a lot of good, son. Our boss would be extremely pleased with you, and she’s got a lot of influence. And if she’s pleased, I’m sure she could make things considerably easier with your father.’
The boy sniffed. Shrugged. ‘I dunno. I suppose, well, I could, but . . .’
Gary smiled at him. ‘Good lad! I knew you had it in you.’
As he walked away, Nick called him back. ‘There was another girl, wasn’t there? Emily?’
‘I’d rather we kept this to ourselves, Nick. I don’t want Toni hearing about it yet.’ Gary paused. ‘Emily’s dead.’
Nicholas’s pasty face turned whiter still. ‘Dead? What? Murdered?’
‘Abducted from one of those parties, Nicholas. Drugged, imprisoned, probably raped, made to suffer terribly, and left to die. I’d say that was murder, wouldn’t you?’
Nick breathed deeply for a minute, evidently near to tears. Then quietly, firmly, he said, ‘I’ll testify.’
* * *
Marie was pacing in the foyer. It was after six and the university had rung half an hour ago to say they were couriering Ted Watchman’s information to her. Then she spotted the leather-clad motorcyclist peeling off his helmet and ringing the bell. She met him at the door, signed for the packet, admired his big Yamaha and gave him a fiver.
She pulled open the large manila envelope and stared at the contents. She didn’t dare remove them as there were other officers around, but she could see the series of face recognition photos. Marie withdrew the short explanatory note, scanned it, and let out a soft whoop of delight.
She’d been pretty certain, but as the hours had passed she had begun to doubt her own convictions. Now she held a positive match in her hand.
She thought of Valerie, her dearest friend and first crewmate. She’d had a cheeky smile and blonde hair that swept her shoulders, striking green eyes and beautiful skin. She saw Valerie eagerly jumping behind her onto her motorcycle and daring her to break the speed limit. In their time off they often went up the coast and walked along the beach. It had been a happy time in those early days — the days before Cade.
Marie’s eyes narrowed as she looked at the photographs. ‘Your time is up, bastard,’ she whispered to herself, then gathered the documents together and hurried from the foyer.
She almost fell into Jackman’s office.
‘From the look on your face, I don’t need to ask, do I?’ said Jackman slowly.
‘It’s the result we hoped for.’
Jackman slid the report and the photos halfway out, glanced at them, then returned them to the envelope and locked it in his desk drawer. ‘This stays here until we need it.’ He clipped the small key onto the ring with the other keys, and pushed them
deep into his pocket. ‘Insurance. We are going to need every bit of evidence we can get if we want to nail Cade.’
Marie yawned. ‘It’s half six. Shall I send out for some food?’
Jackman nodded. ‘In a while. There are a few things I need to catch up on first. Could you ask Clive if he’s heard from the lab regarding those handwriting comparisons?’
Marie caught Clive tidying up his desk and shutting down his computer.
‘I’m off home, Sarge.’ He handed her a sheaf of papers. ‘All these are for the DI. The phone has been red hot in the last half hour. They are mainly non-urgent, with the exception of the pathology report on the top.’ Clive switched off his printer and locked his desk drawer. ‘See you in the morning, Sarge.’
Marie murmured good night, picked up the report and went back to Jackman’s office.
‘Look, sir! The handwriting on the cards over the beds is an exact match with the samples that Max took from Elizabeth Sewell’s annexe.’
Jackman read the report and groaned loudly. ‘This is lunacy! It doesn’t make sense. How can a weak and sensitive woman, someone known to be both physically and mentally delicate, possibly be involved in murder on this scale?’
‘Because she wrote them for her beloved employer, Benedict Broome. What else could it mean?’ Marie frowned. ‘But whatever it means, we now have a direct link between her and the scene of the crime. We are going to have to get her moved to a secure unit, aren’t we?’
Jackman picked up the phone. ‘Damned right, we are. I’ll get an order to have her moved from the general hospital to Saltern Hall Psychiatric Hospital pending evaluation. And we need to speak to Benedict Broome again.’
While Jackman arranged for Elizabeth Sewell’s transfer, Marie went out into the main office to fetch them some strong coffee.
Max was lifting a pile of printer paper from his desk. ‘Sarge, have you got a moment? Things are looking good here. The forensic team have done some work on the name card for the oldest body. It’s Fleur. They are still working on the others but they are hopeful they’ll have some more names very soon. And the other CID teams have been hard at it with the IDs. We have a girl called Hebe Brock, a Scottish traveller who went missing five years ago. Date of birth tallies and she was reported as having had the top of one finger amputated in an accident. Our victim had an identical bone injury. Plus there is a fifteen-year-old serial runaway from Calne in Wiltshire. Her name is Sophie Berry, and she’s been missing for seven years. The date of birth, Christian name, a red jacket and a charm bracelet all match. Another girl is named Tessa Avery. It was assumed that she had run off with her boyfriend to Spain, but her parents never heard from her again. She’s been missing for three years and came from Surrey.’