Leo.
‘Hi Leo. Did you see I phoned you earlier?’
‘I did, but that’s not why I’m calling,’ she replied, her quiet voice and matter-of-fact tone making it clear this was not the call of a woman to her lover. ‘At least, it’s not the only reason.’
Of course not. That would make her appear too available. Tom smiled and waited for her to speak.
‘I’ve got some bad news for you, I’m afraid.’ Tom leaned forwards and rested his elbows on the desk. If Leo said it was bad news, then it wouldn’t be anything trivial.
‘It seems somebody broke into your cottage last night,’ she continued, her tone softening. ‘I’m sorry, Tom. I’m sure you need this like a hole in the head. Anyway, according to Ellie and Max, the alarm didn’t go off. They would have heard it for sure, because they always sleep with the windows open. They were going out somewhere about half an hour ago, and as they drove past your place they noticed one of your windows seemed to be open, and there were bits of paper and other debris flying around. So they went to take a look.’
Ellie was Leo’s sister and she lived next door to Tom’s weekend cottage in Cheshire. She and her husband Max kindly kept an eye on the place while Tom was in Manchester – which seemed to be most of the time these days.
Leo hadn’t finished.
‘They’ve called the local police, and your old mate Steve has just arrived. He probably decided to make it his business when he heard whose house it was. Ellie and Max are still there, but they weren’t sure if it was okay to call about a personal matter while you’re working, so thought they should ask me first. I offered to pass on the news.’
Leo was right. This was all Tom needed. It wasn’t that there was anything particularly valuable in the house. There were a couple of paintings that his brother had bought as investments, but as far as he was aware nobody knew he had them and he was sure most people wouldn’t know by looking at them that they were worth anything.
‘What did they take, Leo. Has Max had a chance to have a look?’
‘Well, that’s the thing really. He said nothing seems to be missing – at least, from a cursory glance around the place. He would have expected them to take some of the more portable stuff, like your fancy iPod player, or some of your more techie bits and pieces from the study. But although it’s clear that they were in there – there are papers strewn everywhere – they’ve ignored all the obvious things.’
‘And the alarm didn’t go off?’
‘So Ellie and Max said. And they would definitely have heard it. I know you set it when you left, because I was with you. Max told me he hasn’t been in since then. He’s just done what he calls his external patrol to check there’s no sign of any problems.’
‘I can’t believe the alarm is faulty – it’s brand new. And I didn’t choose a cowboy firm to fit it, either.’
‘Max wondered if you took files about some of your cases home, and perhaps that was what they were after as it seems they were only interested in your papers.’
That didn’t make sense to Tom.
‘On the odd occasion that I take files home, I always bring them back the next day. I sometimes make my own notes, but nothing that would be any use to anybody else.’ He paused to consider what to do. ‘Listen, Leo – it’s a bit manic here today. Could you do me a favour and phone Max back and just ask if he wouldn’t mind securing the house? I’ll have a word with Steve about the alarm to see if his guys know why it didn’t go off, but I’m not going to be able to get down there until this case is a bit clearer.’
‘No problem. Consider it done. Bye for now,’ Leo responded.
‘Wait a minute, Leo.’ Tom could have kicked himself. Why did he always make all the running? ‘I called earlier to say it was likely to be a late one tonight, but if you don’t mind shopping for some ingredients, I’ll happily come round and cook us both a late supper. What do you think?’
‘Sounds like a plan,’ Leo said in exactly the same tone of voice as she had used to discuss the break-in. Tom would have loved to hear a note of pleasure, but at least she hadn’t sounded bored by the idea. ‘Send me a list and I’ll see you when I see you.’
‘Okay, I’ll text it to you when I’ve got a minute. See you later.’
Tom hung up, his mind doing somersaults as it switched between Olivia Brookes, the break-in at his cottage and Leonora Harris.
*
Although he had more important things to worry about, Tom knew he wouldn’t be able to focus until he had spoken to his friend Steve Corby, an inspector in the Cheshire police, to get his take on what had happened at the cottage. They had a brief conversation after he ended the call to Leo, and it seemed the intruders knew what they were doing. They got in by removing a pane of glass from the study window so it didn’t trigger the contacts, and they had managed to disable the alarm once they were inside. The only reason papers had been strewn everywhere was because they didn’t replace the glass and it had been blowing a bit of a gale in Cheshire the night before.
Thankfully, Max had taken on the task of getting the place secured, and Tom would have to try to get down there as soon as he got a day off. Perhaps he could persuade Leo to go with him. It would at least give her an opportunity to see her sister.
He had no idea what burglars could be looking for in his house. Perversely, he felt more unsettled by that than he would have been if anything of value had been taken. But there was nothing else he could do for the moment, and he was relieved to switch his mind back to somebody else’s problems.
He pushed open the door to the incident room and cast his eyes around. Everybody seemed to be occupied, and Becky was busy chatting to one of the young PCs. She was looking serious, so perhaps they had caught a break.
‘What’s up, Becky? Have we got something?’
She frowned and gave a slight nod, walking towards her desk. Tom kept pace.
‘It’s probably nothing, but Mrs Evans just called from Anglesey and left a message. The local guys gave her my number. She’d like to speak to somebody in charge, preferably a lady policeperson – her words, apparently.’
‘Maybe she’s just remembered something. Why the worried look?’ Tom asked.
‘Nic took the call and he said she sounded as if she was crying. She was really distressed. I’m not worried. I’m just wondering what on earth would make her cry. I guess I’d better find out.’
Becky sat down at her desk and consulted the message that Nic had given her. She picked up her phone and dialled. Tom took the seat opposite and listened to what Becky was saying, but it wasn’t very enlightening.
‘There’s no need to get upset, Mrs Evans. I’m sure you haven’t done anything wrong at all. No, really – it’s fine. Just tell me what happened and what was said.’
Becky’s side of the conversation was peppered with long pauses, but after a couple of minutes she looked up at Tom with wide open eyes.
‘You’ve done really well, Mrs Evans. Thank you for telling us, and don’t worry about a thing. Do you have a copy of the photograph?’
Photograph? Could they finally be in luck and have a picture of these children?
‘Can you let me have the name of the person who sent it to you, then – and contact details if possible. That would be a huge help. Yes, I’ve got a pen. And something to write on.’ Becky looked at Tom and shook her head with a small smile. ‘Yes, I’ve got that, Mrs Evans. Don’t worry. No, you don’t need to repeat it. And if I’ve got any questions, I’ll call you back. Thank you, and please don’t upset yourself any more. You’ve done the right thing.’
Becky hung up, and Tom looked at her expectantly.
‘Just give me two minutes to brief somebody, and I’ll be with you,’ Becky said, pushing her seat back. ‘I need to pay Mr Brookes another visit. If you’re coming, I’ll tell you on the way.’ Becky walked quickly over to Ryan, who appeared to be the only person not on the phone, passed him the note and gave him some rapid instructions that Tom couldn’t
hear.
‘Ready?’ she asked, picking up her bag and keys. Her movements were brisk and purposeful, and there was a determination about her that hadn’t been there before.
‘Ready,’ replied Tom. Whatever Mrs Evans had told Becky, her eyes were glinting with anger.
20
Becky had clearly decided she was driving, and marched towards her car without giving Tom a chance to express an opinion. He couldn’t avoid getting in her car forever though, and at least the roads were marginally less chaotic than the London streets in which he had first experienced her rather manic style of driving. As she drove, Becky repeated everything Mrs Evans had told her, punctuating each indignant comment by swerving round another car or slamming her foot hard on the brakes as she realised she was about to have a head-on collision with a vehicle coming the opposite way.
‘So, what do you think?’ she asked, when she had completed the story, totally unperturbed by the number of near misses.
Hanging on to the grab handle in an effort to maintain his balance, Tom hoped he had managed to absorb the key points.
‘Apart from the fact that Brookes is a bastard, I think it sounds highly suspicious. How do you want to play this?’
Becky chewed her bottom lip. ‘Well, I’m happy to question him, but actually I think he sees you as more of a threat than me. I’ve seen the way he looks at you – he doesn’t know what you’re thinking, but I’m just a dumb woman, unworthy of his concern. If you’re up for it, I think you should question him. I’ll watch and listen – see if there’s anything I can pick up on.’
Tom had been hoping she would say that, but didn’t want to bamboozle her. There was no time to discuss it further, though, as he realised with some relief that they had arrived at their destination. The car skidded to a standstill at the bottom of the Brookes’ drive.
‘I don’t think we should muddy the water with the information about the laptops or the passports just yet,’ Becky said. ‘I want to get a clear reaction from him when we tell him what Mrs Evans said to me.’
Tom nodded his agreement as they walked from the car to the top of the drive. There was a sudden grating sound of metal scraping on something solid.
‘Christ – that noise went right through me. What the hell is it?’ Becky said, screwing up her face.
‘Sounds like the neighbour’s not quite got the measure of that digger he’s driving,’ Tom answered with a smile. No doubt the guy thought he could save money by doing a job himself that would be best left to the experts. A loud expletive came from next door as the sound of machinery came to an abrupt halt. The digger seemed to have cut out.
Robert opened the door within seconds of their knock, as if he’d been watching for somebody to arrive. He looked truly dreadful.
‘Do you have any news?’ he asked. His eyes looked dull and lifeless, and Tom couldn’t read their expression.
‘I’m not sure, sir. We haven’t found your wife and children, I’m afraid. But there have been some developments.’
Robert opened the door fully, and indicated that they should come in. His face had returned to what Tom now recognised as a fairly habitual scowl with his chin lowered towards his chest. When looking at Tom, he just raised his eyes, and there was something slightly eerie about the expression.
Robert stood in the centre of the hallway, not suggesting that they come in or sit down, only closing the door fully when the digger started up again.
‘Well?’ he said.
‘Earlier this morning, you went to see Mrs Evans at the guest house in Anglesey,’ Tom stated.
Robert pushed his hands into his trouser pockets and leaned casually against the wall. ‘You already knew that. We’ve spoken since then.’
‘I know, Mr Brookes. But could you tell us what you said to Mrs Evans, please?’
Tom could see a slight stiffening of Robert’s body. He must have guessed they knew more than they did earlier.
‘I wanted to find out why she’d said I’d visited Olivia ten days ago when I knew for a fact that I hadn’t. She confirmed that she’d never seen me before.’
‘But she didn’t see who the visitor was. She was never introduced.’
‘She may not have been introduced, Chief Inspector, but she’s a seaside landlady. She saw exactly who visited – and she knows it wasn’t me.’
‘Really. And what else did she tell you?’
‘What do you mean?’ Robert tried to look confused, but failed.
‘Come on, Mr Brookes. Stop playing games. She told you that whoever was claiming to be Robert Brookes stayed the night in your wife’s room. She told you that, didn’t she? It wasn’t a visitor for some other guest. It was a visitor for your wife.’
Robert’s mouth settled into a hard line, his casual stance replaced with a defiant pose – legs apart, arms folded.
‘And did you expect me to repeat it? Did you expect me to admit that another man had apparently slept with my wife?’
‘If it’s true, then frankly, yes,’ Tom answered. ‘You claim you want your wife and children found, so don’t you think it was quite a vital piece of information?’
Robert didn’t answer.
‘Not only did you avoid telling us this, but you also asked Mrs Evans not to tell us. In fact, from what she’s said to us, you threatened her.’
Robert scoffed. ‘Hardly a threat, Chief Inspector. I asked her to say nothing. I wanted to protect Olivia’s reputation.’
‘You threatened Mrs Evans’ livelihood. Physical violence isn’t the only form of intimidation, Mr Brookes, and saying you would slam her business on every review website, which is where most of her customers find her, and call it a “house of ill-repute”, which I am sure are her words, not yours, was a dirty trick.’
Robert’s eyes darted from Tom to Becky and back. But he didn’t speak.
‘How long have you known your wife was having an affair? And just how mad did it make you?’
‘She wasn’t having an affair. She wouldn’t…’ Robert stopped mid sentence.
‘Were you about to say, “She wouldn’t dare,” Mr Brookes?’ Tom asked.
Robert lifted his hand and scratched his head. Tom knew he was rattled. He opened the file in his hand and took out a photograph, but held it face side down for the moment.
‘You may have got Mrs Evans to tell us that she made a mistake. You may even have managed to convince yourself that she really did get it wrong, and the visitor was to another guest room. But there’s one thing you were right about. She did sneak a look at who was going up her staircase. She told us something she didn’t dare tell you – that the man who slept in your wife’s room was of a non-white ethnic origin. She wasn’t quite sure where he was from – either Middle Eastern or maybe mixed race were her best guesses. Does that mean something to you? Does it suggest to you who it might be?’
Robert shook his head. ‘Of course not. I think she’s making this up as she goes along.’
Tom turned over the photograph that Becky had provided en route.
‘Do you recognise this person, Mr Brookes?’ he asked.
Robert looked at the photo, and his lips narrowed into a thin line.
‘Yes.’
‘Could you please identify who you believe this to be?’
Robert paused, and when he spoke it seemed to be with great difficulty.
‘It’s Danush Jahander.’ He looked at Tom with cold flat eyes. ‘Why are you showing me a picture of him?’
‘How well did you know Danush Jahander,’ Tom asked.
Robert shook his head.
‘Never met the guy. I’ve seen his photo, though. When I first met Olivia, the flat was full of pictures of him. Like a shrine, it was.’
‘You bought that flat from your wife – that’s right, isn’t it?’ Tom asked.
‘Yes, it’s how we met.’
‘But it seems that all three of you went to Manchester University – that’s certainly where your wife met Mr Jahander. Did you not know them the
re?’
Robert‘s mouth curled up at one side in a sneer.
‘Do you have any idea how many students there are at Manchester University, Chief Inspector? I was a nerd – obsessed by computers. I didn’t really become human until I started work and realised I would actually have to communicate if I wanted to achieve anything in this life. Then I met Olivia, and she turned me into the family man I am now. Why are you asking me about Jahander, anyway? He’s long gone.’
‘Would you be surprised if I told you that Danush Jahander may have been the man visiting your wife in Anglesey?’
The tension in Robert’s face appeared to evaporate and Tom saw something akin to amusement in his eyes.
‘Is that funny, sir?’
Robert looked down.
‘Not funny at all. No. But he disappeared years ago. He’s never been heard of since, as far as I’m aware. He’s hardly likely to have turned up in Anglesey of all places, is he?’
‘He hadn’t disappeared altogether. It seems his brother has had some contact with him.’
Robert’s head shot up. This was clearly news he was not expecting at all. His eyes narrowed, but he said nothing.
‘There’s something else we’d like to discuss with you. Do you think we could sit down?’ Tom asked.
Robert shook his head. ‘No need. I’m fine standing up. Just tell me.’
‘Okay – tell me about your trips to Anglesey. How many times have you been, and where did you stay?’
Robert blew out a long breath through pursed lips, as if he thought the question irrelevant.
‘We’ve been going for years. We used to stay at a guest house in Moelfre. Sometimes I went, and other times Olivia went alone with the children if I was working. It was a safe place for her. The landlady knew us well.’
‘Tell me again why you changed to the guest house in Cemaes Bay?’
‘I’m sure I’ve told you all this – when Olivia tried to book last October, after our summer holiday, she got an answerphone message to say that the B&B was closed for the foreseeable future due to illness. She passed me the phone so I could hear it for myself. It was a voice we didn’t recognise, so we guessed it was the landlady who was ill. Olivia did some scouting round and found the new place. I checked it out online, and I was due to go with them in the summer.’
[DCI Tom Douglas 03.0] Sleep Tight Page 10