by Matt Brolly
He was about to leave when Tillman entered – as usual, not bothering with the pleasantries of knocking on the door.
‘Why aren’t you in hospital?’ Tillman demanded.
Lambert blanked the screen with a push of a button.
‘Look at me, I’m fine,’ he said.
‘You don’t smell it. It smells like there’s been a fire in here.’
‘What can I help you with, sir?’
‘You may have noticed our main suspect in the disappearance of Caroline and Marcus Jardine is dead,’ said Tillman.
‘Funnily enough, I’d gathered that.’
‘They’ve counted eighty-two wounds on his body. Eighty-two. Kennedy says he was still alive when you got to him?’
‘Barely. He was lying on his front, enough blood on the floor to drown in. We must have got there seconds after the suspect left. We’re trying to hold everyone at the scene but it’s chaotic, as you can imagine. The residents are being less than cooperative.’
Lambert knew he should share the information about the Manor and his upcoming meeting with Greene with Tillman, but he couldn’t bring himself to do so. At times he’d trusted Tillman with his life, but something had happened to the man of late. Lambert didn’t want to share anything with him at present.
‘What’s your next step?’
‘Hopefully we’ll get lucky with the residents at the estate. We’re doing our usual work with the CCTV cameras. That place is like a ghost area. Nothing is monitored.’
‘Fine. I’ll leave you to work your magic. I’m going back to the estate now to check in with Matilda, if you need a lift?’
‘I need to speak to someone first,’ said Lambert.
Tillman hesitated by the door, clearly wanting more information. When Lambert didn’t offer it, he sighed and left the office.
Chapter Thirty-Four
DI Greene worked out of the same central station as Sarah May. As Lambert drove to London, he realised he hadn’t seen Sarah for some days and now ran the risk of running into her unannounced at work. After a brief altercation with a security guard, he parked in the station’s underground car park and made his way up to Sarah’s office. He groaned inwardly as he was beeped through the office door and was stopped by the first person he saw.
DCI Barnes stood with his hands on hips, staring at Lambert as if he was an apparition.
‘DCI Lambert,’ he said, ‘to what honour do we owe your presence?’
Was it a coincidence Barnes was there? He worked in the building, but so did hundreds of others. But the way he stood there, and the accusatory way he glared at Lambert, suggested he’d been waiting for him.
‘You’re not here to see me, Lambert, are you?’
‘No.’
It was almost certain Barnes knew about him and Sarah May. It wasn’t a huge secret and the fact they were now both the same rank made their relationship acceptable. With what had happened today, and with Caroline Jardine still missing, a private visit to see Sarah would be frowned upon, but it would at least mask the real reason for his visit.
‘Well?’ said Barnes.
‘Routine work.’
‘Obviously I’ve heard about this Hodge character. He tell you anything that could help us find Caroline?’
‘Not really, I’m afraid,’ said Lambert, refusing to divulge any information.
‘Her husband is dead?’
‘According to Hodge. Naturally, we aren’t taking his word for it.’
‘Naturally,’ said Hodge, folding his arms. ‘Well don’t let me keep you.’
‘I’ll keep you updated,’ said Lambert.
‘I appreciate that,’ said Barnes, with a flicker of grief.
Lambert made his way to the large open-plan office where Sarah worked. It was ludicrous to feel nervous about seeing her and it suggested something which he’d been trying desperately to avoid. He turned to his left, sensing her movement in his peripheral vision. Sarah was talking to a fellow officer whose focus was on the open folder in her arms. She was on the other side of the office and, knowing he’d feel ludicrous calling over, Lambert simply stood there waiting for her to notice him. When she did he was disappointed to notice the smile on her face disappear. She said something to her colleague and walked towards him, her eyebrows furrowed.
‘This is a pleasant surprise,’ she said, fixing him with a stare which unnerved him and suggested the surprise was anything but pleasant.
‘Business, I’m afraid,’ said Lambert.
There was a subtle shift. He doubted many people would notice it but he could tell she was intrigued. If she could smell the smoke on him, she was hiding it well.
‘Is there somewhere private we could go?’
Lambert followed her to one of the interview rooms where Sarah shut the door and pulled down the blinds.
‘You hiding from someone?’ asked Lambert.
‘Oh, it’s nothing. Mixing the professional and personal. Anyway, what was it you wanted to speak to me about?’
Lambert was confused by her response. She’d never been concerned about such matters before. ‘Can we sit down? You’re putting me on edge.’
Sarah smiled and Lambert felt a surge of relief sweep through him. Her face had softened and at last he was looking at the woman he knew.
‘You’ve heard about Hodge I presume?’ he said.
‘News had filtered through. I heard he was stabbed multiple times in the chest?’
‘Eighty-two. I was the first on the scene.’
Something changed again on Sarah’s face. A look of panic this time.
‘You were? I didn’t know. You? Wasn’t there an explosion?’
Lambert held out his arms. ‘I’m still here, aren’t I?’
Sarah moved towards him, glancing at the door as she did so.
‘Jesus, are you OK?’ she said quietly. ‘Why didn’t you call me?’
‘It wasn’t that big a deal.’
‘Not that big a deal? It was an explosion. I can smell the smoke on you.’
‘As I said, I’m fine. The explosion was just a distraction. It didn’t even cause much damage to the flat.’
She placed her hand on his arm and he felt her tremble. ‘You have been checked out though?’
‘Yep, there’s no need to worry, I’m signed off to work. I’m fine. That’s not why I’m here though.’
He hoped he hadn’t come over as too brusque. He appreciated her concern but he was still focused on finding Caroline Jardine. Sarah looked slightly taken aback but she didn’t say anything. She retreated and sat back on the office chair to his left.
‘What is it then?’ she said.
‘I’m here to see one of your colleagues.’
‘Oh.’
Lambert smiled. ‘Are you upset by that?’
‘You’ve got to do what you’ve got to do,’ said Sarah, matching his smile.
‘It’s only routine. Well, perhaps it was more than that. Hodge said something to me before he died. It was just a phrase. I remember reading about it in one of Caroline’s old cases, and one of the officers here is working on something similar.’ He didn’t want to go into details and was grateful Sarah wasn’t pushing for anything specific.
‘Anyone I know.’
‘DI Greene?’
Sarah shook her head. ‘Don’t know the name.’
‘She’s just been seconded here. She was working out of Watford.’
‘Oh, OK.’ Sarah hesitated. ‘Why are you telling me this?’
Lambert wasn’t sure he could answer the question. A sudden urge came over him to share his almost daily visits to Sophie’s house, to announce his doubts over their relationship. ‘I just thought it was a good excuse to see you.’
Sarah frowned, reading him easily. ‘We should probably talk,’ she said. ‘But not now.’
Chapter Thirty-Five
DI Greene’s office was on the tenth floor. She’d been seconded from her role to lead a team working on a drug operation out of North L
ondon, having managed a similar operation in Watford. Lambert would have rather met somewhere less open. Despite the size of the building, it wouldn’t go unreported he’d met with Greene.
Greene had a corner office overlooking a large open area with officers working on adjoining desks. He knocked and entered, Greene getting to her feet after Lambert’s introduction.
‘Please shut the door, sir. Can I get you anything to drink?’
Lambert shut the door, noticing one or two faces staring up at him as he did. ‘Nothing for me, thank you,’ he said, taking a seat opposite the officer.
Greene was a short, stout woman. Her brown hair was cut to give a severe fringe. Lambert had read her file and knew she was fifty-two. Her background was solid, though it looked as if she’d reached her pinnacle where rank was concerned, having been a Detective Inspector for the last twelve years.
‘I have to say I was a bit intrigued when you called. I’m aware of some of your cases,’ she said.
Lambert had been involved in a couple of high profile cases in the last two years, the downside of which was a dubious form of notoriety.
‘I’m aware of some of yours as well, DI Greene. That’s why I’m here.’
‘Shoot,’ said Greene.
Lambert appreciated her directness. ‘What can you tell me about your recent case? The recovered body you found in Waverley Manor.’
Greene paused before answering as if deciding how much she was willing to divulge. ‘About two months ago I was contacted by a con, John Smith. Smith was in prison serving a fifteen-year term for attempted child abduction. He was obviously hoping for a reduction in his sentence for cooperation, though he didn’t specifically request it, and he didn’t ask for a brief.’
‘Why you?’
‘It was a routine missing person case. Kevin Clarkson, married with two grown up children, had gone missing three months previously. We’d almost given up on it to be honest. You know how it is. Our thinking was that if Clarkson wanted finding he would turn up. He had no record, so no cause for suspicion.’
‘Smith knew Clarkson.’
‘Claimed to. Said Clarkson had been working the same circles as him some ten years ago.’
‘Child abduction.’
Greene nodded, and her face twitched as if she had indigestion. ‘During the interview, Smith broke down in tears. Started telling me about this place called the Manor. At least I thought it was a place. As he began to speak, I began to understand the Manor was the name of an organisation. Smith claimed they were the ones he’d been working for when he was arrested, and that Clarkson had been his go-between. Wouldn’t divulge anything else, apart from one more thing.’
‘Waverley Manor?’
‘Yes. Supposedly, that’s where they got their name. He said I’d find everything I needed there, and in part he was right.’
‘You found Clarkson?’ Lambert knew most of what she was telling him, having read it in her file, but still, it was good to hear it directly from her.
‘A few days later and there we are, getting pissed on as our team searches this derelict area. This so-called Waverley Manor.’
‘Tell me about it,’ said Lambert.
Greene frowned again. ‘It’s little more than the remnants of an abandoned brick building, which we eventually discovered deep into the forest. Only the shell of a building remains. As you can appreciate, it was a risk, a lot of manpower and work for what was effectively the word of a felon.’
‘Did you push Smith for more detail of this organisation?
‘Of course. He was scared, that was clear, and when we discovered Clarkson I understood why.’
‘How did Smith even get to hear about Clarkson’s disappearance?’
‘His family lawyer had been tipped off. We’ve interviewed him but there’s nothing on him. It was local news, public record.’
‘So what happened?’ said Lambert.
‘We struck gold early. We discovered the shallow grave in the first few hours, yards from the structure of the building. The body was wrapped in a polyethylene covering but it hadn’t stopped the wildlife getting to it. The body’s hands had been bound behind his back with a leather strap. We later identified the body as belonging to Kevin Clarkson.’
‘What else can you tell me?’ said Lambert.
‘If you don’t mind me asking, sir, can I ask what this is in relation to?’
Lambert studied the DI. She’d been open with him but she was holding something back. He decided to match her openness. ‘You’ve heard of the Caroline Jardine case?’
‘Of course. I can’t see how it’s related though.’
‘Trevor Hodge. The arsonist responsible for the fire at Caroline’s house, and almost definitely her abduction too.’
‘He was murdered?’
‘Yes. He obviously knew something. I managed to speak to him before he died. His last words were “the Manor.”’
If Greene was surprised, she hid it well. ‘I’m convinced there’s more to that place.’
‘What happened next?’
‘I ordered the team to continue searching. They didn’t like it and I couldn’t blame them. It wouldn’t stop raining and as far as they were concerned we’d reached our goal.’
‘And you?’ said Lambert.
‘I thought there were more bodies. Still do, but the operation was shut down within two hours.’
‘Who decided that?’
Greene scratched the back of her head. ‘Sir, it was my direct boss DCI Jenkins’ decision to pull me off the case. As you can imagine, I confronted him about it, but he wouldn’t elaborate on his decision. He told me we’d found Clarkson and the job was done.’ She looked through the window of her office as if scanning for anyone trying to eavesdrop. Lowering her tone she said, ‘there was something off about it all. I had an inkling it wasn’t his decision but I couldn’t make such an unfounded accusation. Next day, I’ve taken a day off and there’s a knock at the door.’
The whole case was going through Lambert’s mind from beginning to end. ‘Anti-corruption?’ he said.
Greene sat back in her chair. ‘How did you know?’
Could it have been Duggan was working on this all along? ‘What were their names?’ he asked.
‘You’ve met DS Duggan?’
Lambert closed his eyes. ‘Jesus,’ he said.
‘He was quite taken with you as well. It seems they have been investigating one of our officers for some time. Chief Superintendent Sinnott.’
For one horrendous moment, Lambert had thought she was about to say Tillman. ‘Sinnott?’
‘He’s the head of my department. Duggan believes he took me off the case.’
‘Does he know I asked to meet you?’
Greene surprised him by blushing. ‘I’m afraid so. I had no option.’
It was Lambert’s turn to lean back in his seat. ‘So Sinnott is linked to this Manor group somehow?’
‘So Duggan believes.’
‘And the second Anti-Corruption officer?’
‘I think you’ll have to meet her yourself.’
Chapter Thirty-Six
Lambert didn’t stop to see Sarah before returning to his car. The conversation with Greene raised more questions than it answered but it offered some hope. He’d agreed to meet her and the mysterious Anti-Corruption officer later that evening at a bar close to his flat.
He was in desperate need of a shower and change. Every time he breathed he was reminded of the fire earlier that day. His skin had a second layer of grime and ash. He reminded himself Caroline Jardine was still to be found and pressed his foot to the accelerator, swirling through the traffic.
As he approached his block of flats, he noticed a lady standing outside. Slim and elegant in a three-quarter-length trench coat, she had the kind of air and poise about her he recognised in a fellow officer. She was used to waiting. He could see it in her stance. He understood now, after Greene’s revelations, that he’d been under surveillance all this time. It ex
plained why he’d seen Duggan outside Gladys Hodges’ care home the other evening and at the station.
He drove past the woman, keeping his gaze forwards so as not to attract her attention. He parked up and waited, studying the woman in his rear-view mirror. She stood perfectly still, her arms by her side. He could be mistaken; she could be someone’s girlfriend waiting patiently for one of the flats’ occupants to make an appearance. But he didn’t think so. He waited for ten minutes before he left the car and made his way down the road towards her, checking the parked vehicles for signs of life, looking out for Duggan’s number plate. She looked down at the road as he approached. He stopped when he reached her.
‘Can I help you?’
She turned to face him, clearly unmoved by his appearance or question. She stared intently as if summoning up a memory.
‘DCI Lambert?’ she asked.
‘Who are you?’ said Lambert, ignoring the question.
‘My name is Florence Colville.’
Lambert didn’t have to search his memory long to place the name.
‘Formerly DS Florence Colville,’ he said.
Colville had been the third member of Jardine’s team who’d left the force shortly after their colleague, Alistair Newlyn, had committed suicide.
‘I’m still a Detective Sergeant,’ said Colville.
Lambert played the information through his mind and quickly decided it wasn’t that surprising.
‘You didn’t leave the force,’ he said.
Colville shook her head.
‘Let me guess, you’re working undercover?’
‘Correct.’
‘You’re Greene’s mysterious Anti-Corruption officer?’
Colville nodded. ‘We need to talk, sir, somewhere safe.’
‘Give me ten minutes,’ said Lambert, leaving her outside as he went up to his flat to shower and change.
Colville had said somewhere safe, which suggested one of them was in danger.
Lambert stayed longer than anticipated under the shower. He scrubbed himself clean but still the smell of smoke clung to him and he wondered if it would ever leave. He doused his body in deodorant before changing and heading downstairs.