by James Raven
Mayo claimed he had proof, including an email from the councillor and statements from several prostitutes who had fallen out with Dessler for one reason or another. If it was all true then Dessler could potentially go down for a long time, which was apparently Mayo’s objective in exposing him.
But it was the claim about DS Jordan that most concerned Temple and Priest. Another bent copper exposed by the same journalist who exposed George Banks. It couldn’t be worse. If the allegations were to be proved it would be a major embarrassment. It would look as though they were presiding over a police department filled to the core with rotten apples.
‘What’s the latest on Jordan?’ Priest asked when he was off the phone.
‘He’s not at home and he’s not answering his phone,’ Temple said. ‘He’s single and because he keeps to himself we don’t know much about his private life except that he’s a keen angler.’
‘Have we come across this so-called evidence yet?’ Priest asked. ‘This email or the statements from the prostitutes?’
‘Not yet, sir. We’re still wading through his computer notes and files.’
Priest rubbed his eyes with his fingertips. ‘Jordan will have to be suspended while we investigate the allegations. Meanwhile, I want his work station seized and his phone records checked. I also want Dessler questioned about this.’
‘Dessler is due for another visit anyway, sir. I’m waiting to hear whether his alibi checks out.’
Priest heaved a sigh. ‘This is all we fucking need on top of everything else. It’s going to reflect badly on the rest of us.’
‘I realize that, sir.’
‘Is there any way we can contain it?’
‘We can try,’ Temple said. ‘But I honestly think it’s unlikely. In fact I guarantee it’s already been leaked. It won’t be long before we hear from the media.’
‘This is one big mess,’ Priest said. ‘I mean, look where it leaves us with the investigation. We have Danny Cain in the frame for killing his partner and the evidence stacking up against him is pretty strong. And yet there’s all this business involving Dessler and the mystery man stalking Mayo. Plus one of our own fucking detectives has now been added to the mix.’
Temple was about to respond when the office door was pulled open and Angel appeared clutching a sheet of A4 paper.
‘I think you both need to see this straight away,’ she said, as she crossed the room and placed the paper on the desk.
‘The artist just arrived back from your daughter’s flat,’ she said to Priest. ‘That’s an impression of the man she saw watching Mayo’s cottage.’
Temple stood up and stepped around the desk to look at the drawing over Priest’s shoulder.
‘If I’m not mistaken it bears an uncanny resemblance to someone we all know,’ Angel said.
Temple saw it immediately and gave a sharp intake of breath.
‘My God, it looks like Jordan.’
‘I don’t believe it,’ Priest said. ‘It can’t be him.’
‘Well, your daughter reckons it’s a good likeness,’ Angel said. ‘Shaved head, protruding ears. And I know for a fact that he often wears a sheepskin coat.’
Priest went red in the face. ‘This is totally fucking ridiculous. Why would one of my own detectives spy on Mayo’s cottage?’
‘Could he have been on official business?’ Angel asked.
‘Absolutely not. I would have known.’
‘Then I’d like to take a photo of Jordan to your daughter right now,’ Temple said. ‘Get a more positive identification.’
‘I’ll come with you,’ Priest said. ‘It’s time I told her about Vince and Maggie Cain.’
25
‘That’s definitely him,’ Jennifer said when Temple handed her a photograph of DS Jordan half an hour later. ‘He’s the man who was watching the cottage.’
Temple felt a thud deep in his chest. ‘You’re sure about that?’
‘If I wasn’t I’d say so, Inspector. But I watched him for long enough to remember the face. It made me nervous at the time and I recall trying to describe him to Vince.’
‘And did Mr Mayo have any idea who he might be?’
‘He said he wasn’t sure, but he might well have been lying about that.’
‘Why’d you say that?’
‘Because he hesitated when he said it. It just made me wonder, that’s all.’
‘We’ve identified him from the description you gave us,’ Priest told his daughter. ‘His name is Ian Jordan. He’s a police officer. I’m his boss.’
Her eyes glinted in surprise. ‘The police were watching us?’
‘He wasn’t there officially, Jen.’
‘Then why? I don’t understand.’
‘Neither do we, but I can tell you that there’s a link between him and Joe Dessler.’
‘What kind of link?’
‘It’s possible Jordan was accepting money from Dessler in return for certain favours,’ Priest said. ‘So maybe Vince did indeed recognize him.’
Jennifer sat back in her chair and stared into her lap. She was still wearing her robe and it looked as though she’d been crying again. The flesh around her eyes was swollen and there was a pile of bunched-up tissues on the floor in front of her chair.
‘There’s something you need to know, Jen,’ Priest said.
She raised her eyes to her father and in them Temple saw that she was drowning in a sea of emotion.
‘There’s no easy way to say this,’ Priest said. ‘And I really wish I didn’t have to.’
Her brow creased. Her bottom lip quivered.
‘What is it, Dad? What’s wrong?’
Priest swallowed. ‘Vince was having an affair.’
Jennifer’s features froze. Her body went rigid.
After a moment she started shaking her head.
‘Why are you saying that?’
‘Because I’m afraid it’s the truth,’ he said. ‘He’d been seeing Maggie Cain. We know because we’ve got voice and text messages that were exchanged between them.’
‘Vince wouldn’t have done that,’ she said. ‘I know because he was in love with me.’
Her father sat on the sofa and put his arm around her.
‘I wish it weren’t true, Jen,’ he said. ‘But it is.’
She stared at him for a few heartbeats, hurt and confused. ‘How long had it been going on?’
‘We’re not sure,’ he said, ‘but we think it started months ago.’
She continued to stare at him, tears spilling on to her cheeks, her skin turning a shade lighter.
‘Did you have any idea that something was going on between them?’ Temple asked.
She looked at him as though offended by the question. ‘Of course not. Why would I?’
‘Were you friendly with Mrs Cain?’
‘I’ve only met her a couple of times. She seemed nice enough. Vince didn’t talk about her, but he was fond of the family, especially Danny. It doesn’t make sense that he should do something like this to both of us.’
‘These things happen, Miss Priest.’
‘But not to me,’ she snapped. ‘We were good together. Why would he go with another woman? An older woman at that.’
‘I can appreciate how you feel.’
‘I doubt that, Inspector. Not unless you’ve had it done to you. Right now I feel as though my heart has been ripped out of my body.’
Temple said nothing. He let her words hang in the air. He could see that her mind was churning with questions that might never be answered.
Outside an ambulance siren grew piercingly shrill, then fell silent.
‘So what does the bitch have to say for herself?’ Jennifer said suddenly.
The anger was to be expected. Her lips stretched back across her teeth and her eyes blazed.
‘If you’re referring to Mrs Cain, well, we still don’t know where she is,’ Temple said. ‘We’re trying to trace her and her husband.’
She scowled, her voice was strident.
‘With any luck the bitch will turn up dead like Vince.’
It was an awful thing to say but Temple understood where it came from. This girl had just had all her hopes and dreams trampled into the ground. It was no wonder she was filled with a primal rage.
Her father went to make a pot of tea and Temple asked some more questions. But Jennifer found it increasingly difficult to answer them. This latest blow had compounded her grief and she was struggling to cope.
Temple had a brief conversation in the kitchen with Priest, then left the flat to drive back to the nick. He checked on progress and was told there was still no sign of Danny Cain and his family.
More CCTV footage had turned up showing Cain’s BMW crashing through a red light at about 10 p.m. on Saturday evening. This was on the main road out of the New Forest and even on the grainy tape you could see that he was alone in the car. His wife and daughter were not with him. The footage strengthened the case against the journalist, showing that having killed his partner he had fled the scene in a mighty panic with blood on his shoes.
Temple decided he had to get some sleep. He was struggling to focus now and his thoughts were fogging up. By the time he arrived at his small semi on the outskirts of the city his head was spinning and his eyes were heavy. The place still didn’t feel like home. He’d bought it a year after selling the house he’d shared with Erin, but he was already wishing that he hadn’t. At the time he’d thought it was what he needed to do. The constant reminders of Erin and their life together had been torturing him and stopping him from moving on. But now he missed them and at the same time he knew that he hadn’t really moved on at all. At least, not inside his head. He made himself a coffee and carried it up to the bedroom. He undressed quickly and checked the time. It was coming up to midday. He put the alarm on for 3 p.m. and climbed between the sheets.
He was asleep in minutes, but it was a fitful sleep, plagued by an all too vivid dream. But this time it did not feature George Banks dangling from an electric cable.
In this one he watched as Danny Cain battered his wife and daughter to death with an iron bar.
26
As the day dragged on the temperature in the loft rose ever so slightly, but it remained cold.
The three of us stayed huddled beneath the blankets, growing more miserable and desperate with every passing minute. Laura was in the middle and Maggie and I had our arms around her to keep her warm. She kept whimpering, a low, pitiful sound that made my scalp crawl.
She hadn’t eaten anything for almost fifteen hours and had managed to drink only a couple of mouthfuls of water. She was scared and confused. It broke my heart to see her like that.
I put my hand under her chin and raised her face to look at me. She was as pale as a Russian swimmer. Her wide brown eyes were devoid of expression. The skin around them was dark, almost bruised. I could see that she had retreated into herself, shrinking away from the terror. I felt the muscles in my throat tighten.
‘I promise I won’t let the bad man hurt you,’ I said.
She blinked. Her top lip curled at the edges.
‘Max and me want to go home,’ she said, her voice shrill. ‘We’re cold and we don’t want to stay here.’
‘I know you don’t, sweetheart. Mummy and I want to go home too. I’ll soon think of a way to get us out of here.’
‘But what will happen when the man comes back? He’s wicked and he frightens me.’
I gritted my teeth. Tried to think of something to say that would reassure her. But whatever I said would not be truthful, just like the promise I had just made to her.
I leaned forward and kissed her forehead.
‘Let me worry about what happens next,’ I said quietly. ‘I think the best thing you can do is go back to sleep. Maybe you’ll have a really nice dream.’
We made room so that Laura could stretch out between us. She rested her head on my lap and covered her face with the blanket. Maggie massaged her legs and patted her back. We stayed like that, without talking, for about ten minutes, by which time Laura was asleep.
Then Maggie broke the silence.
‘I’m certain we’re going to die, Danny, but before we do I want you to know that I love you.’
She was looking at me, her features hard and strained, her long hair in a glorious tangle. My chest heaved and I felt tears gather in my eyes. I reached out, put a hand on her shoulder.
‘I love you too, honey. With all my heart.’
‘I know you do. I’ve always known it.’ Then she paused, tilting her head so that it rested on my hand. ‘I just wish I’d been a better wife to you and a better mother to Laura.’
I grimaced. ‘That’s a ridiculous thing to say. You’ve been a great wife and a wonderful mother. You’ve made me happy and very proud.’
Maggie wiped a tear from her eye with a finger.
‘That’s not true, Danny. For much of the time I’ve acted as though I’ve been ungrateful. I’ve nagged an awful lot and I’ve not supported your business when I should have.’
‘That’s nonsense. You’re scared and mixed up and you’re not thinking straight.’
She shook her head. ‘No, Danny. I know what I’m saying.’
I didn’t get it. Why should she give herself such a hard time? Sure, we’d had our problems over the years but no more or less than any other married couple. If anyone should have felt guilty just now it was me. I was the one who had got us into a financial pickle. I was the one who wasn’t able to protect his family.
I brushed a tendril of hair away from her forehead and stroked her cheek. Her skin was cold and moist.
‘I’ll say this only once, Maggie. And then I want you to stop this silly talk and concentrate on how we can save ourselves.’
I took a breath and felt the emotion stir inside me.
‘I love you more now than I ever did. You’ve been a light in my life since the day we met. If we are going to die in this hellhole then I have one big regret and it’s that I won’t have more precious years with you and Laura.’
She started to say something, but then stopped herself. She reached out and took my hand, squeezing it with all the strength she could muster.
And that was when the dam burst and she broke down. I held her close to my chest and let her cry.
27
The kidnapper dropped the shovel and wiped the sweat from his face with his sleeve.
He was exhausted. Digging, he realized, was as hard as an intense workout on a rowing-machine.
But it had been worth it. The shallow grave he had dug was a necessary part of the plan he’d devised, a plan that followed on from his decision to kill the Cain family.
It was the right and sensible thing to do. He saw that now, having agonized over it for long enough. He would simply have to live with it on his conscience. He could do that. The money would help, and so too would the fact that they were strangers to him. He was engaging with them as little as possible and keeping his mask on to remain anonymous. It helped him to stay detached from them.
The child was the problem. She was sweet and vulnerable and the thought of ending her life was abhorrent to him. But he reasoned with himself that he had little choice.
The guilt would fade with time and since he did not believe in God he did not fear the wrath of Judgment Day. The world was full of murderers, after all, and most of them had never been punished. They went about their lives along with everyone else. Raising families. Watching football. Going on holidays.
Everyone knew that human life had long ago been devalued. It was acceptable to kill in all kinds of circumstances. You only had to look at the television and read the papers to know that.
He lifted his head and looked out over the fertile Hampshire countryside. From here he could see the house, just a five minute walk away. He had chosen this spot because to reach it you had to slug through a patch of thick woodland. Few people came here and those who did so in future would have no idea that they were standing on the grave of Danny Cain.
The kidnapper lit a cigarette and sucked smoke deep into his lungs through pouting lips.
Then he took out his mobile and made a call.
‘I’ve come to a decision,’ he said when it was answered. ‘They’re going to have to die.’
28
‘Have you any idea who he is?’ Maggie asked me.
‘Not a clue,’ I said. ‘I wish I had. Maybe it would help explain what’s going on.’
I’d chosen not to mention my suspicion that it might conceivably be Joe Dessler. She didn’t need to know that and I didn’t want her to think that Vince and I had brought all this on ourselves by trying to expose him as a crook.
We’d been talking to fill the time. Trying to make sense of what was happening. Laura was still sleeping, her breath ragged.
The same questions kept rolling around inside both our heads. Did the masked man know Vince? Was he at the cottage when Vince’s lottery numbers came up? Was he listening in when Vince phoned me? Did he have an accomplice?
I didn’t want to die without knowing the answers and I could tell that Maggie felt the same way. It was bloody frustrating. There was a bitter irony too. If the police did indeed think that I had killed Vince then my name would have become big news by now. It was a huge story and I could imagine what the papers and the broadcast news operations would be saying.
Freelance journalist Danny Cain goes missing after his partner is found slain. There’s mounting concern for his family who have also disappeared.
Temple and the woman detective had probably come to my home last night to arrest me. Maybe someone had seen me leaving the cottage. The old neighbour perhaps. What was his name? Nadelson. Vince once described him as a busybody and said he was always poking his nose in where it wasn’t wanted. Whatever the circumstances, I was apparently suspected of being a killer. Great. I wondered what Temple and his team thought about that. Vince’s death had probably caused a stir among them for the wrong reasons. I was willing to bet that some, if not all of them, were secretly pleased.