I looked at them both. ‘You don’t think he’s done something crazy, do you?’
‘Sometimes the loved ones are the last to know.’ Loxton studied her hands. Kowalski glanced at her but then looked back at me.
‘Did he have any problems?’ Kowalski asked.
I shook my head. The police had got it all wrong. I couldn’t believe it. They didn’t know anything about Mark. But, then, he hadn’t told me about failing to pay the mortgage.
‘Any problems in your relationship? Work problems? Financial problems? Health problems?’ Kowalski fired the questions at me.
‘He never mentioned any problems to me, but I don’t know. He might have had some money problems. I’m not sure. He dealt with all the finances.’ I shrugged helplessly. What sort of fiancée was I, that Mark hadn’t confided to me about his problems?
‘Did you know he was in trouble at work?’ Loxton said.
‘What trouble?’
Loxton’s face was unreadable. ‘He was about to be sacked for insider trading and money laundering.’
‘That’s not true.’ They were both watching me, their faces serious. ‘Where did you get this rubbish from?’ Why would he be struggling to pay the mortgage if that was true? It didn’t make sense.
‘We’ve been to his workplace.’ Loxton said.
‘He’d have told me.’
‘It’s the truth, Julia. He didn’t tell you?’ Loxton’s eyes bored into me.
‘No . . . I . . . He never told me because it didn’t happen. I don’t have to listen to this.’ The room was spinning now. I needed to get out of this stuffy, rancid place. I picked up my handbag and slung it onto my shoulder as I stood up.
‘It looks like he might have been involved in insider trading, which is a way of stealing money from the bank. If it wasn’t for the two of you, who was it for?’ Loxton tilted her head at me, her eyes sad.
‘What are you saying?’ My stomach was heavy. I put my hands on the desk to steady myself.
‘Could there be another woman?’ Loxton said softly.
‘I know Mark.’ I thought of his lopsided smile, the way he used to make me feel like the only woman in the world. ‘We don’t keep secrets from each other. We’re a team.’ There was a stabbing pain in my stomach. I gripped the table edge, trying to focus on something solid.
‘Have you bought your mobile with you?’ Loxton asked. ‘We need to download the contents.’
‘I left it at home.’ I lied. ‘And I need it anyway. What if Mark tries to call me?’
‘Are you sure you haven’t got it with you?’ Loxton frowned at me in confusion. ‘It would only take a day to download it as a priority. We could go and collect it after this interview and have it back to you tomorrow morning.’
‘I can’t be without it, not even for a day. There’s nothing on there that would help, anyway.’ There was a pain in my abdomen now and I grimaced through it.
‘Are you okay?’ Kowalski asked.
‘I’m fine, I just need a minute.’ I tried to breathe slowly, but it wasn’t working. The more of the stench of the room I took in, the worse it got.
‘Why don’t you sit down?’ Loxton said. ‘You’ve had a lot to take in.’
‘I can’t believe this.’ I looked at them both in turn. I had to make them understand. ‘There is no way Mark stole that money. The bank has safety measures in place to stop people from being able to steal anything. It’s some sort of mistake. Maybe the bank’s gambled it away and is trying to blame Mark, now that he’s not here to defend himself? That’s it, he’s some sort of scapegoat. Ask David, he’ll tell you.’ None of this made sense. I’d already said too much. I needed to get out of here before I said any more.
‘David and Mark work closely together?’ Loxton asked.
‘They sit next to each other. They’re in investment. That’s how they became friends.’ Didn’t they know anything? Loxton and Kowalski glanced at each other.
‘Julia, we’re sorry about these questions.’ Kowalski smiled at me sympathetically. ‘I know it’s hard. Please, take a seat. We’re just trying to find Mark.’
‘I know you are.’ I sat back down, focusing on my breathing. In and out, nice and slow.
‘I know this is hard, but we’re on your side.’ Loxton said.
I nodded, trying to compose myself.
Loxton hesitated before she spoke. ‘We need to ask about a hidden mobile we found in your bedroom. Is it yours?’
My handbag was on my lap, the strap still on my shoulder. Loxton wouldn’t be able to see it under the table. I carefully felt around inside my bag for my phone. There – under my purse and lipstick. I tried to hide the relief from my face. I slowly removed my hands from my handbag and placed them back on my lap. ‘No, it’s not mine. I don’t have another mobile.’
‘There was an unread text on it.’
‘What did it say?’ I dug my nails into the palms of my hands – readying myself.
‘It said: “I know what you did and you’re going to burn.”’
‘Who . . . who would send that?’ I asked.
‘Do you know anyone who has a grudge against Mark?’ Loxton asked.
Jonny leapt into my mind. The boy from the past I’d tried so hard to hide. I breathed in and out, but my stomach was cramping harder. I clutched at my abdomen, trying to stop the shooting pains.
‘I’m not feeling that great,’ I said. ‘Can we do this some other time?’
Kowalski stood up. ‘I’ll get you some water.’ His face loomed in front of me, his pale blue eyes and strong jawline suddenly out of focus. He was staring at me as if I was an animal trapped in a cage for him to study. His face separated into four, all rotating round and round me.
My stomach lurched as I threw up violently. There was a second of relief, and then I retched again, sick spattering onto the table below me. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. Kowalski looked down at his vomit-splashed shirt.
‘I’m so sorry.’ I held out the tear-soaked tissues Loxton had given me, mortified.
‘No, it’s fine.’
I gripped my handbag for something to hold onto.
‘Is Mark in danger?’ I could barely get the words out before I began to choke on my tears.
‘We don’t know.’ Loxton’s face softened.
‘Mark didn’t have enemies,’ I said. ‘I’m sorry, I don’t know who would send that. I . . . I need to lie down.’ The detectives began to fuss over me, as if a spell was broken.
‘We can finish this when you’re feeling better,’ Loxton said. ‘But it would really help if we could just download your mobile today.’
I didn’t have to give them my mobile. ‘Mark might call me. I’m sorry, but I know my mobile won’t help you.’
Kowalski’s brow creased in confusion, but he shook his head at Loxton as he opened the door for me. The sick must have been soaking through his shirt and onto his skin. I cringed inside.
‘Let me show you to the bathroom,’ Loxton said. ‘Then we’ll take you home.’
‘Thanks, but I’ll get a cab. I’d rather you were looking for Mark.’ I wanted to be as far away from them as possible.
I hurried out of the police station, not daring to check behind me until I was around the corner and striding down a side street. No one seemed to have followed me, but I quickened my pace anyway and kept stealing glances over my shoulder. It felt like someone was watching me, but every time I looked around me, there was no one there.
Chapter 10
Alana Loxton
Monday
Kowalski dabbed at his shirt with tissue. ‘I can’t go to the shops looking like this.’
‘You haven’t got a spare in the office?’ A spare suit had been essential in the murder team. You never knew when you’d be looking at a decomposing body and then have to meet their family. It was bad etiquette to still smell of someone’s loved one’s decaying corpse.
‘Maybe in my locker.’ He gave up with the tissue. ‘Odd that Talbot w
ouldn’t give up her mobile. I didn’t expect that.’ He went quiet for a moment.
‘She really didn’t want us to have it, even lying that she hadn’t brought it with her. She’s probably having an affair.’ She hated that she was getting so cynical these days.
‘Or she was hiding something worse,’ Kowalski said. ‘That secretary knew all about Rowthorn’s work problems, but Talbot didn’t seem to have a clue, unless she was pretending not to know. Maybe she found out and they had a row?’
‘I don’t think Talbot’s involved.’ Even as Loxton said the words, they didn’t feel right, but she decided to keep quiet until she could properly formulate her concern. ‘We haven’t got enough to take her mobile at this point.’
‘Agreed, but we’ll keep an eye on her. We do need to revisit David Steele,’ Kowalski said. ‘He told us that he didn’t work with Mark. And Benson said that Steele’s name came up when Mark’s did during the insider trading and money laundering investigation.’
‘Benson still hasn’t sent us much on that,’ she sighed. ‘Trying to get information out of that bank is impossible. None of Mark Rowthorn’s team have talked to us, except to say Mark’s a great guy. They’ve all closed ranks.’
They headed into the main CID office, which hummed with energy as the people gathered there were working on their own enquiries. They were all mentally preparing themselves for the case ahead, each with their own rituals. One DC was clutching her mobile as she warned her husband she’d be busy. She saw another one loading his drawer with crisps, cans of coke and pot noodles, anticipating the long unsociable hours when he’d barely have time to stop. They all knew this case was going to be big.
Loxton checked the full intelligence packages she’d requested on Rowthorn and Steele. Both clean. Not a single record for either of them. It didn’t surprise her; they needed impeccable records to work at that level in a bank. Talbot had come back clean too, but she hadn’t expected anything else.
‘The data from Rowthorn’s work mobile and hidden mobile are back,’ Meera Patel said as she passed the records to Loxton.
‘Any luck tracing the stolen money from the bank?’ Loxton asked.
‘Rowthorn had a hidden account,’ Patel said. ‘It took the lab a while to find it on his laptop. He’d used encrypted software.’
‘The bank should have known about this, even if they couldn’t get into it,’ Kowalski said.
Loxton shook her head. ‘Benson knew more than he was letting on.’
‘He’s probably stalling disclosing until the bank is aware of the scale of the losses and has got its collateral damage protocol in place,’ Patel said. ‘Incidents like this can damage an investment bank’s reputation on the stock market.’
‘I’ll ask Winter to call Benson and get the bank’s full report,’ Kowalski said.
‘Well, I’ve found that Rowthorn’s account had just under one hundred thousand in it, but on the day Rowthorn disappeared it was emptied.’ Patel read from her notes. ‘Looks like he used the dark net late in the evening to access it and purchase Bitcoin. There’s no way to trace his IP address to find out where he was when he did it. He’s bounced off different servers so he could be abroad, anywhere. Bitcoin is anonymous; that’s the appeal. Untraceable.’
‘So, Mark and one hundred thousand pounds disappear on the same day,’ Kowalski said. ‘Looks like he’s running away. The insider trading case Benson’s lot were looking into must have spooked him. I’m going to check that stops have been put on his passport so he can’t leave the country, if he hasn’t already.’
‘Could someone else have emptied Rowthorn’s account?’ Loxton asked.
‘It’s possible,’ Patel said. ‘All you need is the password. There’s no way to say for sure who emptied it.’
‘I’ll analyse the phone data.’ Kowalski took the records off Loxton. ‘Maybe the answer will be in there. Loxton, can you review the CCTV around the Yardsmen? That’s Rowthorn’s last known location. Try to see where he goes. There’s quite a lot of it, so get Kanwar to help you if it gets too much.’
‘I’ll put the kettle on,’ Loxton said. It looked like they were going to be there all night.
Loxton’s vision was going blurry as she peered at the CCTV playing on her computer monitor. She’d been studying it for the past ten minutes, rewinding backwards and forwards. Staring at the image of a handsome man with cropped brown hair, smiling.
Rowthorn.
The only image she could find of him. She wished she knew where he’d gone, but as soon as he left that shop, he’d disappeared into a CCTV blind spot and she hadn’t been able to pick him up anywhere else on the high street. It was as if he’d disappeared into thin air.
Cell-siting Rowthorn’s personal mobile had failed to locate him as it had been turned off, the last location being at the Yardsmen. There had been no bank transactions and no travel history since he’d left there.
She let the CCTV play one last time. Watched Rowthorn pay the cashier at the Yardsmen checkout. Rowthorn’s smile looked genuine and warm. He was muscly under his shirt; anyone would take a second look. Steele was stood next to Rowthorn, straining under the weight of three suit bags.
Rowthorn turned from the cashier and marched towards the exit as a dark look flashed across his face, the smile falling from his lips. Steele rushed to keep up with him.
She paused the screen and studied the last image of Rowthorn’s face before he disappeared. She couldn’t tell if it was fear or anger on his face. Whichever it was, he’d now been missing for over forty-eight hours and, although no one would say it out loud, suicide or even murder seemed possible. She hoped he had just escaped his problems and had somehow managed to avoid leaving any trace behind.
It was one in the morning and she was exhausted. Her eyes felt gritty. She should go home, but she knew she’d never sleep. Her mind was buzzing with questions. She thought of Rowthorn’s fiancée, the lost bride, frozen in time. It was hard to imagine a wedding day going any worse.
Loxton needed to find him. She needed to prove to herself she wasn’t a fuck-up. Her last case had nearly destroyed her – this one had to put her broken pieces back together. If she couldn’t do that then there was nothing left for her to do but leave, and if she didn’t have the police, what did she have?
She imagined Rowthorn’s face now: lifeless, his eyes unseeing. She pushed the thought from her mind.
Patel smiled at her. ‘How are you getting on?’
‘Fine, thanks. You?’ Where most policewomen avoided overt make-up, Patel’s nails were painted hot pink and her glossy dark hair made her look like she’d sauntered out of a magazine shoot.
‘Winter has still got me trying to trace the Bitcoin.’ She sighed. ‘It’s all pointless, just dead-ends. There’s no way I’ll ever be able to find it.’ Patel looked as tired as Loxton felt.
‘That’s not a one-person job.’ Patel would be working the longest hours with that to do on her own. Loxton hesitated but then relented. ‘I’ll help you.’
Relief spread across Patel’s face. ‘Thank you, Alana. That’d be great.’
Loxton smiled at her.
‘Which department did you come from again?’ Patel tilted her head slightly.
‘The murder squad.’ Vague enough, Loxton hoped.
‘I’d love to be on the Murder Investigation Team.’ Patel’s eyes lit up. ‘Why did you leave?’
‘I want to go for promotion next year.’ It was a white lie. ‘It’s hard to get the acting-up experience on the MIT. You get more chance in borough CID. Anyway, I don’t want to hold you up. Send me the Bitcoin stuff and I’ll have a look at it later on, when I get a chance.’
‘That’d be a big help.’ Patel smiled. ‘Us women have got to stick together, right?’
‘That’s true.’ Loxton managed a smile. She felt bad about lying to her, but what else could she do? The truth was too painful to talk about and she hardly knew Patel. She didn’t know any of them.
She looked b
ack at Rowthorn’s face on the screen but couldn’t shake off the feeling of shame she felt.
‘Still no trace?’ Kowalski had come over. He held a crate of beers in his arms.
‘No. After this image, he disappears. He’s not been picked up by any CCTV cameras nearby, or on the buses or tube.’
Kowalski held the crate towards her. ‘Beer?’
‘Sure.’ It was the last thing she needed, but she pulled a can out, not wanting to stand out anymore.
‘Na zdrowie.’ Loxton clunked her can against his.
‘Na zdrowie,’ Kowalski said. ‘You speak Polish?’
‘Not really. A few words.’
‘Ah, right.’ Kowalski looked disappointed. ‘There I was thinking you had Polish heritage,’ he said, walking away.
Loxton closed down the CCTV on her computer and pulled up the police database. She typed Julia Talbot’s name in, trying different spelling variations, but still nothing appeared. It was as if Talbot didn’t exist. There was no record of her parents’ car crash either. Their deaths weren’t listed in the fatal road accidents database.
It had been a long day. Loxton imagined curling up in her bed and closing her eyes. On the other side of the office, Kowalski switched on the TV. A female newsreader was going through the day’s stories.
Rowthorn’s face appeared on the screen. He was wearing a tuxedo, holding a cigar in one hand and champagne in the other. Everyone froze. They knew it would be coming, but it was still a shock to see their case on the national news.
‘Mark Rowthorn, a banker for City Enterprises, has been reported missing after he failed to turn up to his wedding yesterday. Police have made Rowthorn’s disappearance a priority.’
‘Shit,’ Kanwar said, choking on his takeaway pizza. ‘How the fuck did they find all that out so quick?’
‘They’ve been sniffing around the police station all day.’ Patel sighed. ‘Only a matter of time until someone let something slip.’
‘Winter is not going to be happy.’ Kowalski shook his head.
Loxton felt her old anger surface. She hated the press. When she’d been in the murder team, they’d come close to destroying her career, and she couldn’t help feeling like history was repeating itself. This time it would be different though. This time nothing would distract her. She would find Rowthorn and make up for her past mistake.
Before I Say I Do Page 7