Chris Collett - [Tom Mariner 01]

by The Worm in The Bud (txt)

  Auntie Helen was there; looking ill and making Anna feel guilty about that phone call. There were some remaining distant relatives Anna barely recognised, who presumably had seen the newspaper story, along with a clutch of younger people who Anna took to be Eddie’s former work colleagues.

  Glancing behind her once again, Anna was relieved to eventually catch sight of Becky and Mark slipping into the back of the chapel of rest at the last minute and acknowledged with a smile Becky’s reassuring wave.

  She’d kept the ceremony brief and simple, the eulogy read by the same minister who had officiated at her parents’ cremation. Anna had furnished him with what few details she could about Eddie, but had no desire to stand up herself and spout hypocritically. Honesty, she felt, was the least she could give him in death. Eddie’s dedication to caring for Jamie formed the main theme and Anna was glad. It was only during the last few days that she had got a real measure of that devotion. Afterwards, Anna led the mourners back out into the foyer past the floral tributes.

  As Becky and Mark caught her up, Becky gave her a much-needed hug. ‘How are you doing?’

  ‘I’m coping.’ Anna took Mark’s outstretched hand.

  ‘I’m really sorry, Anna,’ he said.

  ‘Thanks.’

  ‘I’ve brought you this.’ Reaching into his pocket, Mark took out a slip of paper. ‘Becky said you were looking for a place for Jamie? This one is new, and it’s a bit out of town, but it’s got an excellent reputation.’

  Anna took the paper from him. She didn’t recognise the name.

  ‘We’ve got to go,’ Becky was apologetic. ‘Jonathan has allowed me two hours exactly.

  ‘That’s very generous of him.’ Anna struggled to keep the sarcasm from her voice.

  ‘I didn’t know if he might have come himself,’ Becky went on. ‘Moral support and all that.’

  ‘No,’ said Anna, unable to keep the bitterness from her voice. ‘Far too public’ Becky gave her an odd look, but Anna left it at that. Her friend would find out soon enough, and now was hardly the time.

  ‘Will you be all right?’ Becky asked.

  ‘I’ll be fine.’

  ‘Well, keep in touch,’ Mark said. ‘And if there’s anything else we can do…’

  How about babysitting my twenty-nine-year-old brother once a week? Anna was tempted to say, but she just smiled thanks and retained the thought.

  As Becky and Mark moved away a youth, tall and loose-limbed with a shaven head, and face dotted with hoops and studs, broke away from the group and loped across to Anna. ‘Darren,’ he said, simply. ‘I worked with Eddie at the paper.’

  ‘Thank you for coming Darren,’ Anna said automatically, noting that Eddie’s coworkers looked considerably more interesting than her own.

  ‘No problem. Eddie was a good guy, I’m really going to miss him.’

  ‘We all will,’ said Anna, with feeling. There seemed little more to add until she suddenly recognised an opportunity.

  ‘Darren, you may be able to help me,’ she said.

  ‘You may know that Eddie and I weren’t particularly close, and I’ve never met his girlfriend. Is she here today?’

  But Darren just looked confused. ‘I told that copper; I didn’t know Eddie had a girlfriend. He never talked about one.’

  Rifling quickly through her bag, Anna took out the photo of Jamie and the unknown woman. ‘I thought this must be her. Do you know who this might be?’

  Darren pulled a face. ‘I’ve never seen her before. I’d remember a face like that, I’m sure of it. Pretty girl.’

  ‘Oh, well, thanks anyway.’

  ‘Sure, and hey, I’m really sorry.’ He dipped his head before moving back to the group.

  ‘Thanks,’ said Anna.

  Darren’s place was immediately taken by an older woman, her greying hair set off by an elegant claret, tailored suit. She smiled warmly. ‘Hello Anna. I’m so sorry about Eddie.’ She accepted Anna’s blank expression with a smile. ‘You won’t remember me. I’m Liz Trueman,’ she obliged. ‘Richard and I were friends of your parents. Our son Michael is autistic too. It was a long time ago, I know, but you visited us once or twice when you were all children.

  ‘

  ‘Oh, yes, of course.’ Thankfully her words began to strike a familiar note with Anna. Mum and Dad had got to know the Truemans along with several other families when Jamie was young. The Truemans had subsequently moved to a bigger house in Sutton Coldfield, to the north of the city, that Anna vaguely remembered visiting. Michael had the autistic label, like Jamie, but there any similarity ended.

  Michael had seemed to make much more progress and had lots of language, although he didn’t always know how to use it properly. Anna’s overriding memory of Michael was having him follow her around their garden all day because he’d taken a liking to her then waist-length, red hair. ‘How is Michael?’ she asked now, out of politeness more than anything.

  Another smile. ‘He’s doing really well. Especially since he’s been on his new medication. He was on the same one for years, but it started to have a very odd effect on him.

  It was very worrying. But the drug he’s taking now is brand new and so much better. He’s got his own flat now, with a lot of support from his dad and me of course, but he holds down a part-time job, so he helps to pay for that himself.’

  ‘That’s great,’ said Anna, struck by the huge contrast.

  Hard to imagine Jamie living in his own place, how ever much support he was given.

  ‘He’s still Michael though,’ Liz added, tempering her enthusiasm as if she too had recognised the discrepancy.

  ‘And that will never change.’ She put a hand on Anna’s arm. ‘I do know how hard it can be. And if you and Jamie ever want a day out sometime, change of scenery, you know where we are.’

  ‘Thank you.’ It wasn’t until later that Anna wondered how it was that Liz had even known about Eddie’s death.

  To the best of her knowledge they hadn’t been in touch for years. But then, they did get newspapers in Sutton.

  Before Anna had time to work it out, she was confronted with yet another sympathetic smile, but this time from Dr Payne. Anna relaxed, pleased to see a familiar face.

  ‘How are you bearing up?’ he asked.

  ‘I’m managing,’ Anna said.

  ‘Good. And what about Jamie?’

  ‘He seems to be okay. Life just goes on for him, doesn’t it?’

  ‘I suppose so. You haven’t noticed any ill effects?’ he asked. ‘Nothing bothering him?’

  ‘Nothing obvious, no. Give him a packet of Hula Hoops and he’s as happy as Larry.’

  ‘Good, and the staff at the day centre haven’t reported anything? He’s still at Greencote isn’t he?’

  ‘Yes, he seems to really like it there. I don’t know how I’d manage without it.’

  ‘Well, if there is anything I can do, you know where I am.’

  ‘Yes, thank you.’

  The undertaker hovered tactfully nearby. ‘When you’re ready, Miss Barham,’ he intervened gently.

  ‘I must let you go. Your car is waiting.’ Dr Payne grasped her hand and squeezed it hard. ‘I really am so sorry, Anna.’ As always, he was taking it so personally.

  And when Anna looked back from the car window it was Dr Payne who caught her eye again, deep in conversation with one of many people at the funeral she didn’t know.

  Anna was so relieved to get the funeral over with, that collecting Jamie was almost a pleasure. ‘I’m worn out Jamie,’ she told him, getting into the car. ‘Let’s go to McDonald’s.’

  ‘McDonald’s. Big Mac. Big Mac,’ Jamie grinned. At this time on a Friday afternoon, the car park at the fast food restaurant was almost full. Anna squeezed the car into a far corner and they walked across the car park, Jamie trailing his customary five yards behind. A party of about twenty effervescent children was advancing from the opposite direction.

  ‘Come on Jamie, keep up,’ Anna urged. Although they p
reempted the children, they still had to join a long queue, but for once Jamie stayed calm. Tucking a hand into the crook of Anna’s arm, he waited patiently, with a half smile on his face. It was good to see him happy and Anna could understand why Eddie had been a regular customer here.

  Her focus shifted from Jamie’s face to beyond the window, where a man sitting in a blue van parked in the spaces reserved for customers to ‘eat out’, appeared to be looking directly at her. As he continued to stare, Anna held his gaze for a moment, trying to ascertain if she knew him. The queue shuffled forward.

  ‘Can I help you?’ asked the acne-studded teenager behind the counter, revealing a set of metal-plated teeth, and by the time he was limply encouraging them to ‘Have a nice day,’ the identity of the man had eluded Anna and the van was gone. She’d probably been mistaken anyway; he could have been looking at anything. Chronic fatigue could play tricks like that.

  Back home Anna was uncorking a much-needed bottle of Pinot Noir when the phone rang. It was DI Mariner. His voice was a welcome sound, but since they’d returned from MacDonald’s Jamie had been prowling restlessly, making talking difficult. Cordless phone in hand, Anna was following him from room to room, trying hard to concentrate on the conversation.

  ‘I’m sorry I couldn’t make it today,’ Mariner was saying. ‘Something came up.’

  ‘A policeman’s lot, eh?’ quipped Anna, finding herself strangely comforted by his voice. ‘I’d half expected to see you lurking in the background, waiting for the murderer to give himself away.’ That glass of wine she’d drunk was going straight to her head.

  ‘Another media myth,’ Mariner assured her. ‘How did it go?’

  ‘It was a good turn out. At least fifty people I’d never seen before.’

  ‘Well, it’s over now. You can move on.’

  Said with such quiet authority, even the cliché was a consolation. But Mariner hadn’t called just to ask about the funeral. ‘There’s something I need you to see,’ he said.

  ‘We’ve come up with the remains of some documents on Eddie’s computer. Most of them look like the drafts of some minor stories he was working on, but there is one thing that we’re not sure about. It may be significant, so I’d like you to see it as soon as possible. Would you be able to call in at the station sometime tomorrow?’

  ‘Yes, that should be all right.’ Anna thought of the photograph. ‘Actually, I’ve turned up something that might interest you, too.’ A sudden impulse overcame her. ‘You could always come here,’ she said. ‘If you want to.’ She hadn’t intended to be so blatant, but the wine she’d drunk was taking effect, and the truth of it was, she was desperate for some normal adult company, even a policeman’s.

  Perhaps she’d overdone it, though. There was silence at the other end of the phone; the sound of a man weighing up his chances, or working out how to politely refuse? ‘Okay, that would be helpful,’ Mariner said at last, coolly professional.

  ‘The sooner we can do this the better. I could finish up here and then call round.’ He was going to play. ‘What time would suit you?’

  ‘Any time you like.’ Anna watched Jamie as he carefully selected his place and lay down on the floor. ‘We’re not going anywhere.’ Replacing the receiver, Anna had a sudden inexplicable urge to tidy the house, before changing into jeans and a loose shirt, in a colour that she knew suited her. It was more comfortable. She was checking her hair in the mirror when the intercom crackled noisily and she buzzed down to let Mariner in.

  The detective looked as if he’d had a hard day at the office, but then maybe he had. His grey suit was creased, his tie was loosened at the collar and there was the dark shadow of a beard around his jaw line. He wasn’t going to win any ‘best dressed man’ awards tonight, but to Anna he looked pretty good. She noticed that the bruising around his nose was subsiding, too. Not a bad-looking bloke under all that. Reining in her wayward thoughts, she took Mariner into the lounge, where his arrival was completely ignored until he fished in his jacket pocket and brought out a bright red cellophane packet.

  ‘Loops!’ Jamie jumped up and made a grab for it.

  ‘Jamie, say please,’ Anna prompted automatically. Jamie muttered something in response, simultaneously snatching the pack from Mariner’s hand.

  ‘You don’t have to bribe him to like you,’ she said ‘Who said it was bribery?’

  Anna saw Mariner’s gaze take in the bottle on the kitchen counter, already a third empty. ‘It’s been a long day,’ she said, only partly in self-justification. ‘Would you like a glass?’

  Mariner glanced at his watch and a million questions ran through Anna’s head, all of them far too personal to voice.

  At last he nodded. ‘That would be great, thanks.’

  They retreated to the kitchen, mainly to escape from Carol Vorderman, and while Anna poured the wine, Mariner took off his jacket and slung it over the back of a chair. Anna, pulled up a chair to sit opposite him. ‘Right,’ she said, impishly, encouraged by the wine she’d already consumed. ‘I’ll show you mine, if you show me yours.’

  Mariner smiled, ‘I’m afraid you might find mine a bit of a disappointment,’ he said, holding her gaze. Was he flirting with her? Momentarily perhaps, but that was all.

  Almost immediately he was back to business as he reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and took a single sheet of folded paper. ‘The most interesting thing we found on Eddie’s home computer was a powerful virus. Someone had made a deliberate attempt to destroy all his files.’

  ‘His… killer?’ Anna struggled to form the word.

  ‘Possibly, or it may have been Eddie himself, if he knew he was under threat. Whoever it was did an effective job.

  The only thing of any interest we managed to rescue was this.’ He was right. It wasn’t much. The A4 sheet that he spread out on the table was a database of some kind, rows and columns divided by gridlines. The left-hand column contained only letters, and the row next to it numbers, but beyond that, halfway across the page, the data began to be replaced by rows and rows of meaningless hieroglyphics, where the virus had begun to corrupt this document too.

  Anna had witnessed a similar effect when a bug had entered the system at work.

  ‘As you can see,’ Mariner said. ‘We’re not left with much, even on this. But this is our starting point.’ He traced a long, pale finger down the left-hand side of the page. His nails were clean and neatly trimmed, Anna noticed. No ring, but that could be a matter of personal choice. He didn’t seem like a man who’d go in for any kind of jewellery. She dragged her thoughts back to the task.

  The column of figures Mariner was showing her appeared to be initial letters, paired with dates. ‘Any of them mean anything to you?’ he asked.

  Anna studied them dutifully for a moment, but none of them did, and he didn’t seem particularly surprised. ‘At the moment we’re thinking that they probably relate to the escort agency ads. We’ve checked these initials against the names Eddie had highlighted in that Personal Services column and one of them did match up, although as we don’t have the date to go with it, it’s too early to say whether that’s just coincidence. They could be the names of the girls working out of those particular agencies. Or it could be that these are places Eddie’s already checked up on, and those highlighted in the newspaper are the ones he had yet to add to the list. Without knowing what the other details mean, we can’t be sure.’

  ‘But why would he do that?’ Anna wanted to know, not entirely comfortable with this line of enquiry, though at least Mariner seemed to have moved away from questioning Eddie’s personal life.

  He shook his head. ‘We’re not sure, yet. When I spoke to Ken Moloney, Eddie’s boss, he told me that Eddie had done a story on prostitution some time back. He won some awards for it.’

  ‘Yes, it was a sore point. I didn’t go to the presentation.’

  ‘Well, according to Ken, it was a mission neatly accomplished, except that one of the key players, Frank Crosby, got away
with it. We’re considering the possibility that Eddie had developed a renewed interest, possibly tied in with drugs this time, too. Drugs and prostitution are not exactly mutually exclusive these days and Darren, who he worked with, gave the impression that Eddie had been working on something of that kind on his own initiative. He did it all the time apparently, going off on his own for hours on end.’

  ‘It sounds like his style. I met Darren today at the funeral.’

  ‘Did he tell you that Eddie had been mugged?’

  ‘No. Do you think that was to do with what he was working on, too?’

  ‘There are some pretty hard guys tied up in that kind of racket and if Eddie had been ruffling the wrong feathers …’ He left her to draw her own conclusions.

  ‘I asked Darren about possible girlfriends, too. But he’s saying the same as everyone else. As far as he knew, Eddie didn’t have one.

  ‘And nobody we’ve talked to yet has heard of Sally-Ann.

  Apparently she’s disappeared off the face of the earth.

  Unless of course she never existed in the first place.’

  Reluctantly, Anna put into words what she was increasingly learning. ‘Or it’s just a name Jamie’s picked up from the telly.’

  ‘Terrific. That’s just what I needed to hear.’ He smiled but she could see him physically slump in his seat. ‘What was it you were going to show me?’ he asked, making an effort to sound interested.

  ‘It’s probably nothing,’ Anna said, mirroring his dejection.

  Reaching for the photograph she slid it across the table to him. ‘Francine gave it to me. Eddie was using photographs to communicate with Jamie, people and places he might know, to help him to prepare for change. This was among them. I’ve never seen her before and neither had Darren.’

  ‘But I have.’ Mariner looked up at her, suddenly alert again, his blue eyes gleaming. ‘This is the woman Eddie was with on the night he died. The brunette. That’s brilliant!