The Keeper of Secrets: A stunning crime thriller with a twist you won't see coming (Detective Arla Baker Series Book 2)

by M. L Rose

  Everyone nodded. No one needed reminding of the lengths a reporter would go to. From installing listening software in witnesses’ phones, to stalking the houses of policemen.

  Martin said, “So I suggest we move on. DO we have a formal ID of the body?”

  Arla said, “DNA samples will verify it, and the photos are identical to the deceased. The family will do an ID, hopefully today.”

  Martin said, “Then I can do the press release for later this afternoon. I want to do it ASAP, before we get more salacious headlines. The Home Office is furious, quite understandably.”

  Deakin clamped his jaws. “And the minister is on my back to sort this out.” He focused on Arla with a piercing gaze. “This goes to the highest level, DCI Baker. Do you understand me?”

  “Yes, sir, I do. But I am not responsible for the media leak.”

  “That might have been beyond your control, but your actions need to be modified,” Deakin said.

  “Modified, sir?”

  Johnson gestured towards Arla. “What the DAC is saying is that you need to get my approval before starting things. That way, if there is a fallout, then we are more prepared.”

  Arla felt a mountain of denial rising up inside her. If she had to beg Johnson for approval each time, would she get anything done?

  “In that case, sir, is it OK if I tell the family about their daughter’s death?”

  Johnson’s eyes flickered, trying to gauge if Arla was joking. “Yes, you may,” he said.

  “Let’s hope there’s no fallout from that, eh, sir?” Arla raised her eyebrows.

  Deakin’s voice rang out across the room. “DCI Baker! Take this as a formal warning.” He raised a finger. “If I hear about any more impulsive actions from you, you will be suspended from the case. Never mind being SIO, you won’t take any part at all, and will be suspended on full pay. Do you understand?”

  Arla met his withering gaze full on. “Yes, sir. I understand.”

  CHAPTER 40

  Arla stopped by Harry’s desk on the way to her office.

  “Good, bad or ugly?” Harry asked, noting the stormy expression on her face.

  “Ugly.” She told Harry about the newspaper article. He swore and stood up, hitching his trousers up. That movement brought him very close to Arla. So close she could reach out and touch him. She didn’t step back.

  “Do me a favour,” she said, ignoring the brief tremor low in her belly at Harry’s proximity. “Call up the National DNA Database and get a match for Maddy. It’s a weekday, and they should be able to turn it around in two hours.”

  “Really?” Harry was sceptical.

  “Tell them whose sample it is, and that the Home Secretary is involved in the case.”

  “I guess that’s true,” Harry said, reaching for the phone.

  Arla left Harry and walked into the incident room, where the rest of her team and the other detectives were waiting.

  “Madeleine Burroughs was found dead today, at the same location from where she disappeared. This cannot be a coincidence. Someone thinks they are clever, and is playing games with us. With me, in particular.” For the staff not in her team, she relayed the story of the photo sent to her phone.

  There were whistles and exclamations. Arla said, “The deceased was an American diplomat’s daughter, so you know how softly we have to tread. Unfortunately, the press know already. We need to be very careful about reporters approaching us. They can try to entice you with money. I don’t have to tell you what happens if any news is leaked to the media.”

  She turned to Lisa. “The artefacts we got from the deceased’s clothing – the necklace. Any forensic clues from it?”

  Lisa shook her head. “Gone to a specialist lab, guv. Forensic anthropology. Way too early…”

  Arla verbally slapped her forehead. Centre for Anatomy and Human Identification, CAHID, in Dundee. They were perhaps the UK’s largest centre of forensic anthropology. Would Professor Sandra Hodgson not do a personal favour for her?

  “Has the specimen been sent over?” Arla asked urgently.

  “No, it’s still in secure storage, but going later today…”

  “Lisa, I am authorising you to get the specimen, and courier it to CAHID in Dundee.”

  “Dundee as in Scotland, Dundee?”

  “Yes. I’ll give you the address and details in a moment, just go and stop it from being sent anywhere else.”

  Lisa looked mystified, but rushed off to follow her order.

  “The stakes are higher now,” Arla addressed the rest. “I want a door-to-door of all the houses within a two-mile radius, with photos of Maddy. Same photos, blown up, as posters all over South-West and South-East London. Get CCTV images of the cul-de-sac, and I want reports on all cars and people on it.”

  Arla paused. “Yes, I know this is a lot of work, and an avalanche of calls. I will tell switchboard myself to set up four dedicated lines for this. All of you have overtime authorised from today, till we find our suspect. Drop what you have. This is priority one.”

  A buzz filled the incident room as Arla stopped speaking. Harry walked in, holding a piece of paper.

  “DNA match?” Arla asked hopefully.

  “Not yet, but they faxed over a number to call. And they will text me as well.”

  “OK.” She turned back to the room. “Get cracking, everyone. We meet here at 18.00 to exchange notes.”

  Harry let her drive for once. Arla pulled the sunlight screeners down and put her shades on. The sun was winking off passing vehicles, melting the tarmac. All the cement and steel around them was expanding in the heat, the city buckling at the girders, changing shape. The open space on the Common provided some much-needed relief, the breeze rushing through them like air in the city’s iron lungs.

  Arla drove around the bend of the Common, in the avenue of palaces, and indicated left for the Burroughs’ residence. Harry’s phone buzzed and he answered. He spoke briefly into it and hung up.

  “Amazing what mentioning the Home Secretary does,” Harry said. “We have a match with the deceased’s DNA and Maddy’s.”

  Arla pulled the car up into the drive. There was no need for discretion anymore. The worst had already happened. With a sinking heart, Arla knew that whatever the outcome of this case, there would be no solace for the devastated parents.

  Arla knocked on the door, and the elderly housemaid answered. They waited while footsteps sounded again, and the door opened fully.

  Jenny Burroughs stood on the porch, her cheeks more sunken than before, her eyes receding into the sockets. She had lost weight, the cords of her neck sticking out.

  “May we come in, please?” Arla asked.

  A brief look of hope fluttered across the woman’s eyes. “Is there any news of Maddy?”

  Arla repeated her question in a low voice, and a look of fear passed over the woman’s face. Arla hated this part of her job. It was the worst thing anyone could do to a parent. There was no good way to break bad news, no matter how many lectures they received on the topic.

  Jenny lifted her bony hands, like claws, to her throat. Her eyes bulged. “No,” she whispered.

  A voice came from behind her. “Honey, what is it?” Conrad Burroughs appeared. In a way, Arla was pleased. He could provide the support his wife needed.

  He pulled his wife back, a grim look on his face. Arla and Harry entered and followed Conrad as he almost half-carried his wife into the conservatory at the rear.

  When they sat down Arla said, “I am very sorry to say that we found a body this morning, in Brockwell Park. DNA tests have now confirmed that it is Madeleine and…”

  The rest of Arla’s words were drowned in a howl of agony from Jenny Burroughs. “No!!” she screamed and sobbed, hitting the table as her husband tried to control her. “No, no, no!”

  Arla had done this before, but seeing the woman’s pain made her throat clog up. She couldn’t bear to look at them. Under the table Harry’s hand reached for hers and gave it a squeeze.
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  Harry said, “We’ll give you a moment.” He stood up and gestured to Arla. They went outside the conservatory, and stood in the giant hallway as the wails and moans continued. When they subsided, Conrad appeared. He seemed to have aged visibly, his shoulders stooped and eyes blank, red-rimmed.

  He tried to speak but words wouldn’t arrive on his tongue. He licked his lips and said, “We need to see her.”

  “Yes, of course,” Arla said. “The body is at the King’s College Hospital morgue. I need to let the pathologist know. When would you like to visit?”

  “This evening.”

  “The pathologist might have left then. Is tomorrow morning possible?”

  “Let me ask my wife,” Conrad whispered in a flaky voice. He went over, and after some time, called over to them.

  Arla and Harry went inside. Jenny had her eyes shut, leaning against Conrad’s shoulder.

  Arla said, “I am sorry to ask this now. But Mrs Burroughs, I need you to answer something for me.”

  The woman’s eyes remained closed. Arla said, “Can you think of anything that Maddy was wearing that night that we might not have come across as yet? I’m thinking of jewellery, hair accessories, even a tattoo, anything.”

  Jenny didn’t move for a long time and they waited. Finally she sat up straight, opening her eyes. She didn’t look at Arla. “She wore a ring on her small finger. It had a skull face on it, on steel. I remember it because I told her to take it off. It didn’t suit her.”

  Arla nodded. “Which hand?”

  “Left, I think.”

  “Anything else you can think of?”

  Jenny shook her head. Arla said, “I will leave you guys now. But before we go, for the sake of completion, there is one last favour I have to ask of you.”

  Conrad’s piercing blue eyes looked at her questioningly, but Jenny still avoided her. Arla said, “We need to take DNA swabs from the family members. It’s a matter of routine. Would you mind if we took a swab from your mouth?”

  Harry dug inside his pocket, and took out the plastic packets with the DNA swab kits.

  Conrad had a heavy frown on his face. “You consider us suspects? This is ridiculous!”

  “I can only apologise,” Arla said. “It’s a requirement of the investigation.”

  Conrad raised his voice. “Well, it’s a ludicrous one. Absolutely stupid!”

  Surprisingly, it was Jenny who touched her husband’s arm, and said, “Darling, they’re just doing their jobs. Just let them.”

  Arla looked at Jenny’s tired, withdrawn face and felt a touch of admiration. Her life had been turned upside down, but she had been able to locate a well of strength from deep inside.

  “Thank you,” Arla said.

  Harry stood up and did the honours. When they had finished, Arla asked, “Mrs Burroughs, are there any videos or photos of Maddy that you could share with us? Or maybe watch them yourself, if you can, I mean, and let us know if you see anything unusual?”

  Arla continued. “Photos of her school life, or videos of a game or performance, that sort of thing.”

  Jenny nodded, sniffing. Arla and Harry rose.

  “We will be expecting you at the morgue tomorrow morning. Is nine am OK?” Arla asked.

  “Yes,” Jenny said.

  CHAPTER 41

  “What are you thinking?” Harry asked as he drove.

  “The phone number Maddy rang. We have the location by triangulation, right?”

  “Within a hundred metres of the school, yes. It was last used the night before she vanished.”

  “That means in the school. Could be one of her friends.”

  “Want to swing by? We’re going in the right direction.”

  Arla pursed her lips, thinking. “Yes, why not?”

  The iron gates of the school were tall, foreboding and locked as before. Arla had to press the buzzer several times before she got a response. Lunch hour was finished, and the courtyards were deserted as Arla and Harry climbed up the stairs of the main block to Principal Charles Atkins’ office. He was waiting for them outside his office. He seemed tired, Arla noticed, tie loose at the neck, and his eyes were red, as if he hadn’t slept or had been rubbing them for a while.

  “Busy day?” Arla asked.

  “It’s post-exam season,” he said, “so dealing with A level results and getting students on the right path is never easy.”

  He held the door open for them, and Arla walked past. She got a whiff of his body odour as she walked past, and scrunched up her nose. Papers and folders were strewn on the desk. Atkins made a show of cleaning up the desk. Arla and Harry remained standing.

  “We wish to speak to Maya and Imogen again,” Arla said.

  Atkins looked dubious. “I heard about what happened with Paul Ofori.”

  Arla and Harry exchanged a glance. “What did you hear?”

  “That he was arrested. Also, it came to our knowledge that he was in a relationship with Maddy.”

  “Who told you this?”

  “His mother. She came to find out if his future at the school was affected by what happened.”

  “I see.”

  Atkins looked at them closely. “So, what do you want with Maya and Imogen?”

  Arla said, “Paul Ofori is presumed to be innocent of any crime, unless new evidence comes to light.”

  Atkins looked surprised. “Really? But there was a newspaper article. It mentioned that Paul was arrested after he went on the run, and that he was going to meet Maddy that night. It also said that he was selling cannabis in the school, an allegation that we are looking into.”

  Arla cursed herself for not reading the entire article. “What else do you know?”

  Atkins shrugged. “Nothing else. It seems to me you found your man. I mean, if he was going to meet with her that night, then surely he knew what happened to her?”

  Harry said, “Not necessarily.” He looked at Arla who nodded. Harry continued. “Maddy was in contact with another person. She called this person several times the night before she went missing. Paul says that she was seeing someone else.”

  Atkins looked disturbed. “And you trust Paul? What if he is lying to save himself?”

  “That phone number comes up regularly in Maddy’s phone log. She maintained contact with this person over the last three months. And the last call from that number to her came from within the school.”

  Atkins’ mouth dropped open. He was at a loss for words. “What?” he struggled to speak. “You mean, Maddy had another… another…”

  “Lover, or friend, or whatever,” Arla said. “Bottom line – we need to find this person, and ASAP. Hence we need to speak to her friends, and check their phone numbers.”

  Arla stopped and narrowed her eyes. “Including yours, and that of your teaching and admin staff.”

  Atkins opened his mouth and closed it. “You can certainly have mine, but the others…”

  Harry said, “We can get them from your database under the Freedom of Information Act. Or you can ask your secretary to send us a list of the numbers. Up to you.”

  Arla said, “It’s to help with a police investigation. If your staff have nothing to hide, then they will have no objection.”

  Atkins licked his lips. “No, of course not. But do you have any idea where Maddy might be? It’s been almost ten days since she disappeared.”

  Harry cleared his throat and Arla looked at him. She knew what he was trying to say. To get the principal’s full cooperation, a full disclosure might be necessary.

  She thought quickly. The press release would be out later this evening. The DNA tests had proved beyond doubt who the deceased was. Everyone would know in a few hours.

  “Mr Atkins,” Arla said softly, “Maddy is dead.”

  Atkins’ eyes bulged out. His face turned red. He stumbled, holding onto the corner of his desk. There was a stunned look in his eyes as he slowly lowered himself into his chair. He looked from Harry to Arla.

  “What?”

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sp; “I am sorry, Mr Atkins. But it’s true.”

  Atkins said, “Are you sure it’s her? I mean the body…”

  “DNA tests have identified the body as hers,” Arla said quietly. “I’m afraid there is no doubt.”

  “Her parents…”

  “Have been notified.”

  Atkins looked like a fish out of water. “Do her friends know? I mean.” He gulped noisily. “This is terrible for the school’s reputation. There has never been anything like this, I assure you.”

  Harry asked, “What has happened in the past, Mr Atkins? By that I mean serious issues, like children missing or hurt.”

  Arla nodded approvingly. It was a good line of enquiry. Atkins looked bemused for a while, then shrugged.

  “What happens in every co-ed school with students of a certain age. A pregnancy or two. Yes, a child went missing from the senior school many years ago, but she turned up the next day.”

  “Nothing else?”

  Atkins shook his head vigorously. “No, never. This school takes pride in its pastoral care.” His head sank down into his hands. “Oh God.”

  Arla gave him a moment to compose himself. “Do you now see why we need the staff members’ phone numbers?”

  Atkins took out a handkerchief and cleaned his forehead and face. “Yes, of course.” He reached inside his pocket and took out his cellphone. “Here, this is mine. Feel free to look through it.”

  “Do you have any other phones?”

  “No.”

  Arla said, “Is it possible to meet Maya and Imogen again?”

  “Certainly.” Atkins reached out and lifted the receiver of the phone on his desk.

  CHAPTER 42

  Maya blew a bubble from her gum and watched it pop, going cross-eyed as she did so. Arla sat opposite her in the same room where they had met the last time. This time, Harry sat next to her.

  “We don’t have much time,” Arla said. “Can you answer the question, please?”

  Maya did the whole teenage body shrug thing. “If she had another boyfriend? I have no idea.”

  Arla said, “But she was your best friend. She never told you anything?”