The Sixth Window

by Rachel Abbott

  During the night Natalie had made one other decision. She was going to go into the office this morning and tell that bastard Bruce that she was taking some leave – unpaid if necessary. She wasn’t prepared to leave Scarlett on her own any longer.

  Natalie accepted that her knee-jerk reaction – wanting to get Scarlett away from Ed as soon as possible – had resulted in her daughter being cast adrift from her friends, and now she and Scarlett needed to work out together where they went from here.

  She jumped out of bed with renewed determination. Scarlett had to come first, and if Bruce didn’t like it, he could lump it. She walked into the sitting room and saw that Scarlett was once again feigning sleep. She ignored her daughter’s clear aversion to having a conversation and sat down on the coffee table next to the sofa, leaning forward to talk softly to her.

  ‘Scarlett, I know you can hear me, so stop pretending. I’m going to have a shower and go into the office now, but only to tell them that I’m taking some leave. There’s a lot going on, and I haven’t been fair on you. I’ll be back by lunchtime at the latest, and then we’re going to work out what we do next. Okay?’

  Scarlett opened her eyes a fraction, and Natalie was shocked at the sadness she saw there. She knew Scarlett had been bored, but there was something else. Something that Natalie didn’t understand.

  She reached out an arm and stroked her daughter’s soft cheek with the backs of her fingers.

  ‘Sweetheart, I don’t know what’s going on in your head, but I should. I’m so sorry – I was trying to protect you. But I know there’s something else bothering you, and when I get back, you need to tell me what it is. And I promise to tell you everything as well. Trust me, baby. Please?’

  The smile that Scarlett gave her seemed forced, but at least she was making an effort, so Natalie pushed herself up from the table and leaned over her daughter to kiss her on her forehead.

  ‘I love you, Scarlett,’ she said softly.

  All she had to do now was gear herself up for a fight with Bruce. She went into the bathroom and shut the door.

  *

  Natalie was almost at the office when her mobile rang. It was a number she didn’t recognise.

  ‘Mrs Gray, it’s Detective Inspector Becky Robinson from Greater Manchester Police. We met last week, if you remember, when you came in for a chat about your husband, Bernard.’

  ‘Yes, I remember. What can I do for you, Inspector?’

  ‘We’d like to pop in to see you to chat through a few things that have come to light in the last couple of days. Or you could come here, if you prefer. But we might want a word with Scarlett too, if she’s around. When would it be convenient?’

  ‘How soon do you want to do this?’ Natalie asked.

  ‘Today, please.’

  Natalie stopped walking, and a man muttered an obscenity as he almost crashed into the back of her.

  Why so soon? What could have happened?

  Ed had said he was going to talk to someone about the case, so maybe that was why he had been trying to call last night. Perhaps the police wanted to know whether she thought Bernie was capable of being involved with that horrible website. She hoped they didn’t mention anything about it in front of Scarlett.

  Then she remembered that she had promised to be honest with her daughter, so it was important to talk to her before the police arrived.

  ‘Mrs Gray, are you still there?’

  ‘Yes, I’m sorry. I was trying to work out the logistics. I’m going into the office to tell them that I’m taking some leave, but I should be home again by 10.30, so any time after that would be fine.’

  ‘Shall we say 11.30, then, to give you a bit of time? And I won’t be coming alone. Detective Chief Inspector Douglas wants to talk to you too. If you could make sure Scarlett’s there, that would be perfect.’

  The two women said their goodbyes and Natalie continued on her way to the office, following the route on autopilot as she wondered what on earth they wanted to talk to her about.

  75

  Scarlett had just got out of the shower when she heard her phone beep. She was hoping it was one of her friends, finally saying they had managed to organise a trip into town for the day. She needed a distraction from all that was happening.

  It wasn’t a friend: The police want to talk to us again and they’re coming to the apartment. DCI Douglas and his inspector. Please, sweetheart, can you be home from 10.30? I really need to talk to you before the police get there. Love you, Mum xx

  She hadn’t been planning on going out anyway, but her mum was going to want to know what had been troubling her lately, and she couldn’t tell her. Lewis said it was dangerous, and given what had happened to her dad, she had to believe him.

  It was as if thinking about Lewis had summoned him up, because at that moment her phone rang and his name popped up.

  ‘Hi,’ she said, feeling shy as she remembered yesterday and how frightened she had been of him.

  ‘Are you okay, Scarlett? I’m sorry I scared you yesterday, but you were so close to blowing three years of work – an operation that a man died for – so I had to make sure you understood.’

  ‘That’s okay. I do get it, honestly,’ she said, feeling a tingle of excitement that she might be helping in a case that her dad had worked on.

  ‘Listen. I’ve had word from my handler at force HQ. I told you, he’s the only person who knows the full scope of what’s happening, and he keeps tabs on everything that’s going on around him. He says that some time today a senior policeman is going to try to arrange an interview with you.’

  Scarlett swallowed a murmur of surprise. ‘My mum’s just told me. He’s coming this morning. But I haven’t forgotten what you said – that I have to be careful who I trust.’

  As if sensing her doubts, Lewis spoke to her gently, but even she could detect the steel in his words. ‘Remember, little girl, this is dangerous.’

  Scarlett forced herself to answer. He had called her little girl again. He didn’t think she could be trusted. But she could. Even if she wouldn’t do this for Lewis, she had to do it for her dad.

  ‘I won’t say a word, Lewis. I promise.’

  ‘The man who’s coming to see you is DCI Douglas. Has your mum told you that?’

  ‘Yes, it was in her text.’

  ‘Well he’s a clever sod – used to getting people to break under pressure. Trust me, I’ve seen him in action.’

  Scarlett said nothing for a moment. She didn’t know what to do. How could she lie to this police officer? Her dad had always told her to trust the police, but even she knew that some of them were corrupt.

  ‘Tell him nothing, and remember that by saying the wrong thing you’re not only putting yourself in danger, you’re putting your mum in danger too. We don’t want another death, do we?’

  ‘But Lewis, this man’s a chief inspector. Surely he can be trusted?’

  ‘I told you to trust no one, especially not DCI Douglas. He’s the worst of the lot. He’s right at the centre of all this. He likes little girls, Scarlett. He’s the man we’ve been trying to catch for the last three years.’

  76

  Becky had been working her way through the tasks they had identified at the end of the previous evening. They had drawn a blank with the car that killed Bernie. It seemed as if it had simply disappeared in the forty-eight hours between O’Connor dumping it and Bernie being killed. The ANPR and any local CCTV had been checked eighteen months ago and they had found nothing.

  As well as organising the appointment with Natalie Gray and her daughter, Becky had phoned Megan Jenkins to ask her to come into the station for a formal interview. It was time Jenkins told them the truth about who Bernie Gray had been having an affair with, and they needed to know who else he might have confided in.

  Becky had also asked Keith to read through all the statements from the Operation Sphere officers. Bernie hadn’t been on duty the day Amber Blackwood had called Crimestoppers, but statements had been tak
en from the whole team when it became clear there was a leak. Given the evidence that Gray might have been involved in the sale of indecent images of children and he had written the name Amber Blackwood in his notebook, it seemed possible that he was the source. But they needed more information.

  Becky couldn’t understand why Tom didn’t want to speak to Alison Morgan yet. He was stalling, and this didn’t make any sense to her. Tom said it could wait until Megan Jenkins and Natalie Gray had been interviewed. He had a feeling they would only get one shot at Morgan and he wanted to gather as much evidence as he could before he showed his hand. He had thought Morgan a cold fish when he met her, in spite of what he referred to as her crocodile tears at the death of Jennifer Bale, but in his view everything they had against her was circumstantial so they needed all their ducks in a row before alerting her to their interest.

  This felt wrong to Becky. Alison Morgan was Natalie Gray’s best friend, and Natalie’s husband had admin access to a website selling indecent images of young teenagers – kids that Alison Morgan may well have set up. The missing piece of the puzzle was the photographer who had been having sex with the girls, very probably with the intention of offering their young bodies to other perverts. Even if they didn’t have enough to charge Alison Morgan, they could at least question her, and Tom’s intransigence was frustrating Becky.

  Her irritation at her boss was interrupted by the phone. Megan Jenkins had arrived.

  *

  ‘PC Jenkins, we have had to make this a formal interview because we need some facts from you, facts which you seemed unwilling to share when you talked to me earlier this week.’

  By tacit agreement both Becky and Megan referred to each other by rank now, and when Becky had introduced Tom, she hadn’t missed Megan’s discomfort when she realised she was being interviewed by a detective chief inspector.

  ‘You told DI Robinson about Sergeant Gray’s extramarital relationship – whether sexual or not isn’t relevant,’ Tom said.

  ‘Yes, sir. When Bernie – Sergeant Gray – told me about that first night, it never occurred to me that he would see her again. I told him he was a stupid wanker – excuse me, sir – but I thought that would be the end of it. It was only later that I realised she’d got him cornered and had coerced him into seeing her again.’

  ‘And you know for certain she didn’t kill him, DI Robinson tells me. But how do you know she didn’t pay someone else to? Did that never occur to you?’

  Megan Jenkins was sitting very straight in her chair, dressed in her uniform, and she looked a different person to the live wire Becky had met two days earlier. Her skin was paler, and under the dark mass of her hair she looked almost ghostly, as if sleep had eluded her.

  ‘I understand your point, sir, but I got the message to say Bernie had been knocked down and was being rushed to hospital when I was sitting outside the woman’s house. I’m afraid I behaved in a very unprofessional manner and went and hammered on her door.’

  Megan coughed and cleared her throat. Tom and Becky said nothing.

  ‘She came down in some hideous sexy nightie and opened the door with a bright smile on her face. When she saw me, her face dropped and I knew immediately who she’d been hoping to see.’

  ‘I presume you mean Sergeant Gray. Did she say that?’

  ‘She didn’t need to. I have to admit that I used rather more force than was entirely necessary to get into the house, sir. Then – well, I might as well tell you exactly as you’ll no doubt ask her – I pinned her to the wall by her throat and told her Bernie was dead, even though at that point I didn’t know for sure. Her eyes flooded instantly with tears. I don’t think it could have been an act.’

  Becky liked this little fireball of a woman. She was tough but she cared about her friends, and Becky couldn’t imagine that too many people got away with giving her any trouble. And she could tell that Tom liked her too, although that wouldn’t make him treat her any more gently.

  ‘What happened after that, PC Jenkins?’ he asked.

  ‘I told her she’d made Bernie’s life hell, and that she was a bitch for trying to steal another woman’s husband, or words to that effect. She rallied a bit and shouted that Bernie had loved her, and she him. I told her he’d never loved her. All he wanted to do from the start was to get rid of her. Then it came over my radio that he was dead. I was still with her.’

  ‘And you told DI Robinson that this woman was a nurse. Is that correct?’

  Megan looked down at the floor for a moment, but when she looked up there was resignation in her eyes.

  ‘I’m sorry. That was a lie. I didn’t want Natalie to find out the truth. She seems to be losing too many people in her life. Anyway, this woman originally hated Bernie because she blamed him for ruining her life, but then I think she decided there was a better form of revenge than just detesting him. She chose to attack his happiness from the inside by manipulating him into having a relationship with her. I don’t suppose she expected to fall for him.’

  Becky leaned forward and rested her arms on the table. ‘Why did she think he’d ruined her life?’

  ‘Because she and her best friend had planned to take a gap year, go to university together and then move to London and live the single life for a while. Always the two of them. But Bernie had ruined that. She didn’t have anyone apart from her best friend, you see. No family because she’d been brought up in a children’s home, and her friend had given her roots for the first time. She detested Bernie, and she despised Natalie for giving up on everything they’d been dreaming about since they were thirteen – all for the love of a man. She wanted to destroy them both for what they’d done to her. It was an obsession to start with, I’m sure – an obsession with wrecking something good. But Bernie was adorable, and the more he resisted her, the more she had to have him. She convinced herself that it was love. Does that make sense?’

  It did, sadly. Desire for the unattainable was often the most ferocious kind.

  There was no real need for anyone to ask who she was talking about, but they had to get confirmation. Becky looked at Tom and he nodded.

  ‘And can you please confirm who this woman was?’

  Megan breathed in and let out a long, slow breath.

  ‘Of course. It was Alison Morgan.’

  77

  Tom gave everybody a ten-minute break and asked Becky to organise coffee for Megan Jenkins. He wanted to get her opinion on the notebook that Edward Cooper had shown them.

  With the notebook now in an evidence bag and photocopies of each of the relevant sheets in his hand, Tom opened the door to the interview room and stood back to let Becky go in. They both took seats opposite the diminutive police officer.

  ‘We’d like to show you copies of pages from a notebook that’s been handed in. We believe it was Bernard Gray’s.’

  Tom pushed them across the desk to her, and Megan placed the pages side by side on the table and looked at each in turn.

  ‘Do you think the word Freedom suggests he was planning to leave his wife?’ Tom asked.

  Megan shook her head emphatically. ‘Absolutely not. He was planning to escape from Alison’s clutches. Telling Natalie the truth was one option, even though he knew how devastated she would be. I’ve no idea what the other two are all about, but at a guess they’re threats – in some way the website and the name of Amber Blackwood are a means of threatening Alison.’

  How different Megan Jenkins’ view of Bernie Gray’s motives seemed to Edward Cooper’s. And yet they were both supposed to be Bernie Gray’s friends.

  ‘Do you know if Bernie Gray told Sergeant Cooper about his relationship with Alison Morgan?’

  Megan looked at Tom and then at Becky as if trying to determine why they were asking this question, but Becky’s face gave nothing away and Tom was sure his was impassive.

  Megan sighed. ‘Bernie was an ass sometimes. He told me he was going to tell Ed because he might need his support if Natalie found out – which he was hoping she
wouldn’t. I told him it was an idiotic thing to do.’

  ‘Why idiotic, if Ed was his friend?’

  Megan sighed. ‘Because Ed thinks Natalie walks on water. I didn’t think he would forgive Bernie for hurting her, and maybe he’d tell her. Although he was damned if he did – because she would hate him for being the one to break her heart – and damned if he didn’t, if she later found out that he knew and had kept it from her.’

  ‘Did Bernie take your advice?’ Tom asked.

  Megan snorted. ‘Did he buggery. I was there when Bernie told him, and Ed went white, which with his skin means he went a kind of washed-out yellow. But Bernie told us he had a plan. He was going to make sure Natalie didn’t find out, and he just needed a few more days to dot every I and cross every T. I left them to it. I didn’t want to know what he was planning in case I didn’t like it.’

  *

  As they walked back to the office Becky could see that Tom’s jaw was rigid, which usually meant he was angry.

  ‘Why do people think they know best? Why didn’t either Edward Cooper or Megan Jenkins tell us what they knew eighteen months ago? They’re bloody police officers! Even if they thought it was irrelevant, it wasn’t their decision to make. I want Cooper back in here now. He can tell us exactly what Gray was planning to do with the information on Alison Morgan. We only have Jenkins’ word that she wasn’t involved. Maybe if we’d known all this from the start…’

  Becky was struggling to keep up with Tom’s long strides, but he carried on talking, regardless of the fact that she was trailing two paces behind him.

  ‘Tell Cooper’s boss it’s a formal interview and he has to come immediately. No argument.’ He looked at his watch. ‘We’ve can just about fit it in before we have to go and see Mrs Gray.’

  Becky nodded and kept quiet. Now wasn’t the time for her to express an opinion.