He had to admire the doctor a little. She could of course have killed Trina too but that would have exploded the myth of the murderer being from the drugs gang. Two close friends being murdered would constitute a pattern. He guessed that the doctor might have been unsure whether Trina knew anything anyway but she obviously decided not to take any chances and sent her the photo. It had the desired outcome too.
He reluctantly returned to the Rafiq case. He re-read everything and then re-read it again and learnt nothing. He was not far from giving up on it.
Tommy was taking the chance to take Bridget out for a meal while Mac spent a quiet evening indoors with Tim who had brought around some very nice and very cold cans of lager. They spent the evening dissecting their favourite football team. Now a division lower after getting relegated Aston Villa were definitely playing better but neither were sure if they were playing anywhere near well enough to get promoted again. Talking about this kept them going all night.
A sudden stabbing pain woke Mac up in the night. He wearily turned on the light. It was three fifteen. He lay back and looked at the cracks in the ceiling. He knew that there would be no sleep for a while so he fired up his laptop. After checking the latest news and football gossip he reluctantly opened the Rafiq file once more.
He decided to check all the statements once again and started with Lawrence Taylor’s. Lawrence explained what he’d done to try and save Asma’s life and how he’d been taught CPR and other life saving techniques at school. Mac had just reached the end when his hand slipped on the mouse. He thought he’d been on the last page and was about to scroll up again but he found that he’d been wrong, there was another page. He looked again and it definitely stated ‘2 of 2 pages’ but he could now see the top of another page below it. It said ‘3 of 3 pages’ and Mac cursed whoever had taken the statement for their sloppiness.
The third page just had a scrawled note –
‘Mr. Taylor has stated that he gave his an incorrect address when we spoke to him first as he was in shock. His correct address is below…’
Mac looked at the address and his pulse started racing.
He’d found the link he’d been looking for!
Mac checked it twice. He’d been right, it was the same address as Cassandra Bardolph’s. So Lawrence Taylor was living with Cassandra at the time that Asma Rafiq was killed.
Was it Lawrence who had blood on his hands?
Had Lawrence murdered Asma after all?
Chapter Twenty Three
Mac went straight to Harry Jeavis’ statement. He was the cyclist who had been the first to find Asma after she’d been stabbed.
He said that he took notice of the man in the dark hoodie as he nearly collided with him as he ran past. He noticed that the man had yellow trainers on and also that they were stained with something red. Then he saw Asma lying on the ground. A stream of blood was already running from her body towards the gutter. He got off his bike and went to her. He looked up and saw Lawrence Taylor come from the right and walk towards him. Lawrence broke into a run and then tried CPR while Harry phoned for an ambulance.
That’s where the blood on his hands came from then, Mac thought.
He looked again at the photos of the murder scene. It was on one of the protected cycle and walk ways that ran all over Stevenage. Asma was killed near a junction where several walkways met underneath the centre of a massive traffic island. It was just a few steps away from a subway where the walkway went under the main road. Asma’s killer must have been waiting in there for her.
Harry Jeavis was cycling towards the junction from the left hand side of the subway. He’d been intending to go straight on towards the aerospace factory where he worked when the man in the hoodie nearly ran into him and he then saw Asma on the ground. She’d been stabbed several times but was still alive when he got to her. Then Lawrence Taylor had come from the direction that Harry Jeavis had been heading towards. Mac looked it up on street view. Nothing much would have changed in twelve years. It confirmed what he’d thought.
Lawrence Taylor couldn’t possibly have murdered Asma Rafiq.
Harry would have had a clear view ahead right down the walkway that Lawrence had appeared from. If Lawrence had killed Asma he’d have had to have stabbed her then run back up the walkway and at that point Harry would surely have seen him. Yet Harry said he saw no-one except for the hooded man.
So if Lawrence didn’t kill Asma why would he have said that he did to Cassandra? Had he contributed to Asma’s murder in some way? Mac felt that there was an unresolved mystery around this case and he desperately wanted to know what really happened.
He started looking for Lawrence Taylor. He contacted the school and asked if they could send him a copy of his school records. They said that they could send them on Monday but only once they’d received a formal request. Mac emailed Martin and asked him to send the request to the school. There was nothing else he could do until he received those records.
The weekend went slowly enough although it did have one notable event. After watching Mac and Bridget play Tommy decided he wanted to learn how to play backgammon himself. So Mac spent most of Sunday teaching him what he knew about the game. He must have been a good teacher because Tommy ended up winning by seven games to two.
Mac put it down to beginner’s luck.
The school records didn’t turn up until Monday afternoon. Mac went through them with a fine toothed comb. Apparently Lawrence Taylor had been a model pupil with a good attendance record, apart from a bad patch when he was fourteen, and his marks were consistently well above average. He ended up in the Sixth Form College and his grades were good enough to get him a place in an Oxford College. Strangely enough it was the same college that Cassandra had attended.
He picked up the phone and called the university. Once again he needed to get Martin to send them a formal request. He rang Martin up and explained what he needed.
‘No problem, it should only take me a minute or so,’ Martin said.
‘There’s one more thing, could you see what you can find out about Lawrence Taylor’s work history and anything else about him that you might be easily able to access?’ Mac asked. ‘I’m sorry for dumping more work on you.’
‘No problem, I’m not all that busy at the moment if I’m honest.’
‘Why’s that? Aren’t you helping with the effort to break the code on the Al-Faran Clinic’s computers?’
‘They’ve let me have a look at what they’re doing and it’s fascinating but they’ve got a specialist team from the Met working on it. The encryption’s a bit special from what they’re telling me.’
Mac thought Martin sounded a bit wistful.
‘Oh before I forget I do have some information for you about that pensioner that was killed in her own home,’ Martin continued. ‘If you remember you asked me to find out about Edith Dickinson’s children and whether any of them had gotten divorced.’
‘Oh yes, did you come up with anything?’
‘Well sort of. It turns out that a few years ago that Barry, her daughter Ellen’s husband, suggested to her that they should have a trial separation but Ellen didn’t agree. In the end she went for something a bit more permanent.’
‘A divorce I take it?’
‘Not quite,’ Martin said, ‘she killed him, kitchen knife in the stomach while he was asleep. She rang for an ambulance but the medical people reckon she must have waited until there was hardly any blood left in him. She got life with a minimum of twenty years.’
‘Well I wasn’t expecting that. Can you do me a favour and tell Dan that if wants to close another case it might be worth getting someone to speak to her. There’s a chance that either she or her husband or both killed Ellen’s mum, Edith Dickinson. When a couple are involved in a murder it can often put a strain on the relationship over time and that’s why I was asking if any of Edith’s children were divorced. Who knows she might confess, it’s not like she’s got anything to lose.’
�
�Okay I’ll pass the message on, see you Mac.’
It took two more days before he received the college records for Lawrence Taylor. He’d studied English Language and Literature and ended up with a two-one. Mac smiled when he read a tutor’s note stating that ‘Lawrence has a first rate mind and would have gotten a first if he could have stayed away from the pub once in a while.’
Apart from going to the pub he was part of a drama group that seemed to have gotten something of a reputation at the time. And that was it, Mac still hadn’t found what he was looking for. Of course it would help if he knew exactly what it was.
He was still thinking about the mysterious Lawrence Taylor when he received an email from Martin. He’d searched as hard as he could and could find no work record of anyone called Lawrence Taylor who was the same age and had the same birth date. He also checked with the benefits agencies and drew a blank there as well.
This puzzled Mac. If he didn’t work and he didn’t draw benefits what did he do? Had he come into money and gone abroad or just changed his name? If he had changed his name then why? Most people who change their names do it because bad things have happened to them or perhaps because they’ve done bad things to others.
Mac was no nearer cracking the mystery.
He sighed, perhaps there wasn’t one and he was just losing his grip.
He read through the college records again. He had his epiphany when he read Lawrence’s full name on the very first page of the file.
Lawrence Nathaniel Taylor.
Oh of course! Mac mentally kicked himself.
He smiled. The reason why Lawrence had changed his name was now crystal clear. Talk about hiding in plain sight.
He looked up some information on the internet and then sent off an email. He wondered how long he’d have to wait and what he’d do in the meantime.
Chapter Twenty Four
He didn’t get a reply until the Monday afterwards. Mac smiled when he read it. Lawrence Taylor was coming to see him. At last he’d find out exactly what lay behind Cassandra Bardolph’s mysterious utterances.
Mac had a think and decided that the less people who knew about it the better. He’d have to tell Amrit though, after all someone would have to open the door for him. He wondered how she’d take it. He told her the news after lunch.
‘Oh by the way we’re going to have a visitor tomorrow but I’m going to have to ask you to keep it a secret.’
‘Oh I’m surprised you’d even ask,’ Amrit replied with a little look of disappointment. ‘I’d never tell anyone about who comes here. Who is it?’
‘Remember the Rafiq case?’
‘Oh yes, the poor young girl who was stabbed by her brother.’
‘Yes that’s the one. Well there are some features of the case that still puzzled me so I’ve managed to track down the young student who tried to save Asma’s life by giving her CPR.’
Amrit’s face crinkled with thought.
‘Lawrence somebody, wasn’t it?’
‘Yes, Lawrence Taylor. Anyway he’s coming to see me tomorrow around mid-day and I’d like to keep the visit as secret as possible.’
‘Why’s that? Is he someone important now?’ Amrit asked.
‘Well yes I think you could say that. He no longer calls himself Lawrence Taylor though, he changed his name.’
‘Why was that?’ Amrit asked. ‘Did he become a criminal or something?’
‘No he became an actor. His full name was Lawrence Nathaniel Taylor so he changed it to…’
Mac left the sentence hanging. He could see the wheels whir round in Amrit’s mind. He could see from her expression the exact moment when the penny dropped.
‘You don’t mean….no you couldn’t mean…’ she said. ‘Not Nathaniel Bardolph!’
‘You’ve got it. Yes Mr. Bardolph is coming to see us and I need to keep it quiet as possible so please tell no-one.’
‘Just let me just check that it’s not some other Nathaniel Bardolph we’re talking about here. You’re talking about the Nathaniel Bardolph, the one who’s the most drop dead gorgeous human being on the planet, the one who they’re all tipping to be the next James Bond, the one who not long ago got the Oscar for best leading actor. That Nathaniel Bardolph?’ she asked.
‘Yes that’s the one.’
Amrit screamed and jumped up and down like a little girl.
‘Oh I absolutely love him! Just wait until I tell my husband…’
Mac shook his head.
‘Well my daughter I’ve got to be able to tell her…’
Mac shook his head again.
‘My friends?’ Amrit asked, trying to the last.
‘I’ve promised that he can come here in complete confidence and I don’t want a posse from the press greeting him at the front door. Remember that he’s connected to a murder case and, if that got out, it might have quite an effect on his career.’
Amrit looked a little shame-faced as she said, ‘I’m sorry Mac but Nathaniel Bardolph…okay I’ll keep it a secret even if it kills me and it probably will. However I must make just one phone call.’
‘Who are you calling?’
‘My hairdresser, I need to beg her for an emergency appointment first thing tomorrow morning and the problem is I can’t even tell her why.’
Mac let nothing slip about the impending visit that evening to Bridget or Tommy and hoped that Amrit had done the same.
Amrit was late the next morning and had to let herself in. Bridget and Tommy had already gone to work.
‘Is this one of the new range of nurse’s uniforms I’m hearing about?’ Mac asked.
Amrit was dazzling, literally. She wore a saffron coloured sari that had the most exquisite details on it and it sparkled as it was encrusted in sequins and sparkly stones. Her hair had been parted down the centre and a large hair decoration consisting of pearls and saffron coloured stones hung on her forehead. She had a wide jewelled bangle on each wrist. She looked like she’d just stepped out of a Bollywood movie.
‘It’s just something I threw on,’ she said nonchalantly.
Threw on starting at five this morning, Mac thought.
For the next few hours Mac tried to concentrate on re-reading the case. The fact that Amrit kept coming in every ten minutes and checking that her favourite actor was still coming or asking how she looked didn’t really help much.
At last a knock on the door was heard.
Amrit made no move towards the door, instead she looked at Mac with something like terror.
‘Amrit open the door.’
‘It might be him though,’ she said.
‘I hope it is. Do I have to do it myself?’
She reluctantly left the room. A minute later a tall slim man with mid length hair and designer stubble walked in followed by an adoring Amrit. Mac thought it a wonder that she didn’t melt into a puddle on the floor. However, even he had to admit that his visitor was very handsome.
‘Mr. Bardolph, I’m Mac Maguire,’ he said as he held out his hand.
He received a firm handshake back.
‘Please take a seat and you too Amrit, you look like you need to sit down. This is Amrit my nurse, she’s been helping me with my cases as I’m stuck in bed for a while. She can be trusted to keep this visit secret.’
Nathaniel sat down and looked at the floor. Mac gave him some time to think.
‘So what do you want to know?’ he eventually asked.
‘While I’ve been confined to bed I’ve been helping the Major Crime Unit with some of their cold cases, one of which was Asma Rafiq’s. I’m trying to make some sense of it but there are parts that I find a little puzzling. I was just wondering if you’d like to tell us what you can remember about Asma’s murder.’
Nathaniel looked straight at Mac, his eyes looked bleary and tired.
‘I knew this was coming. I’ve not been sleeping well lately, I’ve been having dreams, dreams about Asma. I haven’t consciously thought about her for a few years now so I knew there mus
t be a reason. Then, when my agent told me about your email, I knew why. Where shall I start?’
‘Tell me about you and Asma,’ Mac asked softly.
‘I loved her Mr. Maguire and she loved me. It wasn’t a teenaged thing, it was real. I still love her now, even all these years later, but I didn’t know that until recently. At the time we had to keep it all a secret because of her family, especially her brother. She was hoping that we could go to the same university and there we could have had a life together, far away from everyone, especially her family. That was the plan anyway. And then that morning it all fell apart. I felt her life literally slipping through my fingers and there was nothing I could do about it.’
‘Why didn’t you tell the police about you and Asma?’ Mac asked.
‘I honestly don’t know. I can only think that I was in shock and we’d been so used to keeping everything secret, I suppose it was like a reflex. I was in such a state I even gave the police the wrong address.’
‘What was the address you gave?’
‘My mum’s house in Stevenage. I lived there until I was fourteen.’
‘What happened when you were fourteen?’
Mac was interested as he remembered his poor attendance record at around that time.
‘My mum died.’
‘Oh I’m sorry,’ Mac said.
‘Yes so was I. She was as mad as could be but she was all I had, well almost all. I never knew who my dad was but my mum did have a partner she lived with on and off for ten years or so. She and Aunt Cassie really loved each other but unfortunately they split up the year before mum died, the year before mum killed herself. After that I had nowhere else to go and so I turned up on Cassie’s doorstep one morning and she took me in. If I’m honest I loved her almost as much as I did my mum and she had the added advantage of being rational most of the time. She provided me with the stability I needed and we got on well. I got my life back together, well sort of.’
23 Cold Cases (The Mac Maguire detective mysteries Book 5) Page 19