The Woman in the Peacock Patterned Coat

by Jennifer Jones

  ‘So we’re stuck.’

  Neil’s shoulders slumped. ‘Yes. And Sheila Campbell returns to Australia in four weeks’ time.’ He paused for a moment. ‘Shaun Taverner is terrified, but not, I think, of being found out. He set up this meeting with Katie, he doesn’t have an alibi – all his life he’s lived quietly, not causing any trouble, and now he’s caught up in this horror. But in the face of all our disbelief, he’s stuck to his story – because what else can he do? With all the evidence ranged against him, what else can he do but repeat over and over what he knows to be true, that he’s innocent?’

  ‘And that’s what you believe, is it, Neil? That Shaun Taverner is innocent?’

  ‘I do, Sir, yes. Yes, I do.’

  ***

  The week drew uneventfully to a close. Shaun Taverner’s mother, not surprisingly, gave him a glowing testimonial – he was the loveliest young man you could hope to meet, he would never hurt a fly. The two male friends they spoke to said practically the same thing – they had known him since high school and had never once seen him lose his temper – turn the other cheek, give people the benefit of the doubt, walk a mile in their shoes, that was his philosophy. Graeme remained sceptical. ‘It’s often the quiet ones though, isn’t it? They get tired of being the good guy, always taken for granted, and finally they snap, maybe over the tiniest thing.’ Shaun’s ex-girlfriend was the least complimentary. ‘Yes, he was sweet, and respectful, and all that, but he had no drive, you know? He had a university degree for goodness’ sake, but he stayed stuck in that job at the furniture place, when he could have been earning three times as much. I stuck it out for a while, trying to get him interested in better jobs, so we could move out of that dump he’s living in – an apartment in Docklands would be nice – but he wouldn’t shift. And when he started talking about marriage and babies, well that was it for me. I was out of there.’

  The short, bald man that Shaun had mentioned turned out to have been the caretaker, who had moved his family of six children down to Exeter at the beginning of May. He remembered Katie, but laughed at the suggestion he had been trying to “chat her up”. It would be more than his life was worth, he said, if his wife found out. She had asked him a question about the rubbish bins – if hers filled up could she use someone else’s? Yes, he’d said, just not the one belonging to the grumpy old sod in flat seven. They’d talked a bit about Glasgow – he had relatives there, and that was it really. He’d found her to be very pleasant and friendly. On May thirteenth he had spent the night at the local hospital with his eldest child, who had fractured his wrist.

  They put out a fresh appeal with details of the suitcase, the work that Katie did, and still no-one came forward, no-one at all who said, “Yes, I remember her, she did my garden for me”, so that Neil started to believe it had all been a pack of lies, something said to make Shaun think they had something in common. Why she would do that was a question he couldn’t even begin to answer. And he knew that this appeal would be the end of it, that no more resources or manpower would be devoted to the search unless and until they had something more concrete to act on.

  On Friday afternoon Angela Havers came into his office. She looked extremely pleased with herself.

  ‘I’ve found the company that made Katie Campbell’s coat, Sir!’

  Neil frowned. How was that even relevant? ‘Did it take you very long?’

  ‘I did it in my own time, Sir.’

  ‘Well, that was very enterprising of you. And did you find out anything of interest?’

  ‘Each coat is unique, Sir – no two the same. The idea is that you supply a photo and they work from that. So anyone seen wearing that peacock patterned coat has to be Katie Campbell.’

  Well, that didn’t follow at all. Neil took the piece of paper she held out to him, with the company details written on it. A broad smile broke across his face.

  ‘Angela, this is very useful. To me, personally. Thank you very much.’

  She beamed. ‘Any time, Sir. I’m glad to be of help.’ She made no move to leave and he said,

  ‘Was there something else?’

  ‘I just wondered … a few of us are going to “The Golden Anchor” for a drink after work, and I wondered if you’d like to come along too.’

  ‘Well, it’s kind of you to ask, but I’m sure people don’t really want the boss tagging along. It might put rather a dampener on things.’

  ‘I’m sure that’s not true, Sir. It would be really nice if you joined us.’

  ‘Nevertheless, I already have other plans. Another time, maybe.’

  As soon as Angela had gone, he picked up his mobile phone and dialled the company’s number. ‘Hello? I understand you take commissions? Yes, for my wife. Yes, I can upload a photograph for you …’

  Chapter 11

  ‘All right, Janey. Today we’re going to try a short trip on the Tube.’

  This was Janey’s third session with Zara Williams, an energetic, no-nonsense woman in her mid-forties, with masses of dark brown curls held in check by a tie-dyed cheesecloth scarf. Zara had explained that the point was not to try to avoid panic attacks with just a quick dash to the shops, or across to the park, but to learn how to manage when one hit. She had taught Janey various breathing and relaxation techniques, for example, visualising a place or situation that made her feel at ease and focusing on that. She told her that she had been a victim of that most statistically uncommon of rapes, rape by a stranger, so her fears were real and understandable, but she had to try and keep in mind the reverse of that statistic – that most rapes are committed by someone a person knows. Zara suggested she undertake a course in self-defence and set her some exercises in mindfulness and positive, truthful daily affirmations to help her rebuild her self-confidence. Now it was time to put it all to the test.

  ‘I’ll drive you to halfway between Tooting Bec and Tooting Broadway. You’ll walk to one, take the Tube to the other, and walk back to the car. You can call me from the platform at each station, in fact you can talk to me the whole way if you want. The important thing is to do it. Ready?’

  Janey concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other, trying not to think of the ordeal ahead, the escalator that would carry her deep beneath the surface. Focus on something positive … telling Neil what she had achieved when he got home that night, the look of pleasure she would see on his face … Lost in this inner world, she was not fully aware of her surroundings, and jumped when a voice said her name in surprise.

  She looked up. She was outside a pub, and Joe Maguire, a friend of her ex-husband’s, was sitting at a table with a pint of beer in front of him.

  ‘J-Joe!’ She glanced around nervously and he said, looking at her derisively, ‘I’m meeting Wendy for lunch. She’s running late.’

  She remembered that Wendy worked at a lingerie shop near Tooting Bec Tube station. ‘H-how are you and Wendy? How was the honeymoon? Hawaii, wasn’t it?’

  ‘It was, yes. We had a grand time, thank you for asking.’

  ‘I … I never got to say, what a lovely wedding that was …’

  For a moment he looked sympathetic. ‘Well, it can’t hold many pleasant memories for you.’

  ‘N-no. Well, it was nice seeing you again, Joe.’ She turned to go but Joe said,

  ‘I hear you’re with Neil now.’

  ‘Y-yes, that’s right.’

  ‘That’s a nice jump, isn’t it? From a Detective Constable to a DCI. Well done you. Should Neil be watching his back, too? I hear the Borough Commander’s recently divorced.’

  Janey swallowed hard. ‘It was Dan who left me, Joe.’

  ‘And why was that, Janey? Because you admitted to him the only reason you were in that courtyard in the first place was to meet with Neil behind his back.’

  ‘What? No … that’s a lie – a horrible lie. Neil and I never … I would never …’

  ‘Did Neil tell you I transferred out? I got back from my holiday to find him, Stamford and the Super all cosy together, a
nd Dan gone. It made me sick to my stomach. Was that necessary, Janey? Telling all those lies about him? Getting him sacked? That job was his life. Do you know what he’s doing now? Driving buses. I hope you can sleep easy at night.’

  ‘They-they-they … they weren’t lies, Joe. Dan was abusive towards me, he hit me, he …’

  ‘Hit you. He gave you a bit of a slap, is what he told me.’

  ‘And-and that’s all right, is it? Is that what you do, when you and Wendy have a row, give her a “bit of a slap”? To shut her up, keep her in line?’

  ‘Of course I don’t! I’d never touch her! But it’s not as if he battered you black and blue, is it?’

  ‘He-he-he was getting worse. And he … he did other things to me, things I’m not going to talk about …’

  ‘He told me, Janey. How you liked things a bit rough in bed, then turned that against him …’

  Janey shrank from him. ‘No … no, that’s … I didn’t … I …’

  ‘Is everything all right, Janey?’

  Janey turned to Zara in tears. ‘No … no, it’s not … I don’t want to do this any more. I want to go home. Please, take me home.’

  Zara put an arm protectively around her shoulders. She looked at Joe angrily.

  ‘What’s going on here? Why is she upset like this?’

  ‘Now look, lady …’

  ‘Don’t call me lady!’ Zara snapped. Leading Janey away she said, ‘It’s all right. It’s all right now. No-one’s going to hurt you. You’re safe now.’

  ***

  That same afternoon, Kirsty Douglas, now Kirsty Matthews, was shown into Neil’s office.

  Neil rose and shook hands. ‘Ms Matthews. This is a surprise. Please, take a seat. How was the African safari?’

  ‘It was intense … awesome … a different world … I feel changed by the whole experience.’

  ‘The best kind of holiday, then. I was going to call you in a few days, when I estimated you’d be settled back in at home.’

  ‘Yes. My ex-flatmate told me you were asking for me. So seeing as Alistair and I are here in London for a few days, I thought I’d come in in person and see what it was all about.’

  ‘Thank you. I appreciate it. Well, Ms Matthews, I’d like to ask you a few questions about your friend, Katie Campbell.’

  ‘Katie! Why? Has something happened? Is she all right?’

  ‘I’m sorry to say she’s missing. She’s been missing for over two months. Naturally we’re very anxious to establish her whereabouts, make certain she’s OK. We’re talking to everyone who knows her, hoping to find out some information, any information at all that will help lead us to her.’

  ‘Well, I-I’m not sure that I’m going to be of much help. God – this is terrible. But Katie and I – we lost touch with each other early this year. She sent me an email to tell me she’d arrived safely in London, she’d found a nice flat, was looking for a job … and she wished me all the best for my wedding, said how lucky I was to have found someone I felt I could spend the rest of my life with … And that was the last I heard from her. I sent her a couple of replies but she never answered. I thought, oh well, she’s started a new life, moved on, that’s the end of it. It’s not as if we were really close friends, you understand?’

  ‘You worked at the bank together, didn’t you? Is that where you met?’

  ‘Yes. We started on the same day so we sort of gravitated together. She was lots of fun. She’d take me out clubbing or to parties – she lived with a couple of other women at the time, Annie and Philippa, and they’d have these full-on parties – really intense – dancing all night, drinking – Katie could really put it away …’

  ‘Drugs?’

  ‘Well … there’d be drugs there, but Katie never took them. Me either. Anyway, then she moved in with Gordon and everything changed.’

  ‘In what way?’

  ‘Well, she stopped going out with us – me, the women she’d lived with. Apparently Gordon wasn’t really into clubbing or parties, he preferred more romantic dates like restaurants, weekends away. We’d still go out for lunch now and then and it would be all Gordon this and Gordon that. I got a bit sick of it to tell you the truth. So we sort of drifted apart.’

  ‘Did you ever meet Gordon?’

  ‘No. I suggested it a couple of times but she never took me up on it so in the end I stopped asking.’

  ‘But she seemed happy in the relationship?’

  ‘Very much so, yes.’ She frowned. ‘Though now that you ask that, there was a couple of times late last year where she came into work and she looked like she’d been crying. I asked her if everything was OK and she said of course it was, why wouldn’t it be, so I thought no more about it. There was something else, too … when we started at the bank, Katie would never work a second longer than she was contracted to, but sometime last year she started staying back. “I’ll just get these emails out”, she’d say, or, “I really should stay and get this report finished”. The rest of us just thought she was trying to get in good with the boss.’

  ‘And then she was sacked. What can you tell me about that?’

  ‘Things started disappearing from people’s bags, desks. Mostly small amounts of cash. Then a stolen necklace was found in Katie’s locker. She swore she’d never put it there but who else had the key? There really wasn’t much the manager could do.’

  Neil smiled. ‘He could have called in the police. Had the necklace fingerprinted for a start.’

  ‘He wanted to handle matters by himself.’

  ‘Do you think Katie was the thief?’

  ‘I don’t know what to think. It seemed really out of character, but who knows? Maybe temptation got the better of her.’

  ‘Did you have anything stolen?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Whose necklace was it?’

  ‘I don’t remember. Fiona something? I’m not sure. She wasn’t there long. I think she’d been brought in from another branch to fill in for someone who was on maternity leave.’

  ‘All right. So from the time Katie was sacked to the time she moved down to London, did you have any contact with her at all? Do you know about her miscarriage, for example?’

  ‘Miscarriage? Who told you she had a miscarriage? She had an abortion.’

  Neil looked up sharply. ‘An abortion? Are you sure?’

  ‘Of course I’m sure! I went to the clinic with her.’

  ‘All right. Ms Matthews, this is really important. Can you tell me as much about that as you can remember?’

  ‘After she was sacked I rang her a couple of times, to make sure she was OK. She told me that Gordon was starting to get on her nerves, she wanted her life back, and she was thinking of moving to London. She’d been looking at a few property websites and there were some reasonably priced one bedroom flats for rent, she thought she could make a go of it. Then one afternoon early in December I found her waiting for me after work. She practically dragged me into a nearby café and before we even sat down she told me she was pregnant. I asked her what she was going to do about it. She told me she was having a termination. She said she’d already been to the clinic that morning where they’d given her a tablet, and she had to go back the next day for a second lot. She wanted me to go with her. I was a bit surprised at that. Like I said we weren’t as good friends as we used to be. I thought she’d have other female friends by then, Gordon’s friends. She saw me hesitating and pleaded with me, so I agreed. I went with her to the clinic, and after she’d been given the tablets she was allowed to go home so I took her back to my place, where it happened. God, it was awful. It hurt her and she’d cry out sometimes like she was actually giving birth. When things seemed to have finished she insisted on taking a taxi home. I rang her the next day and she sounded fine. She said she’d made an appointment with a letting agency in Wandsworth for the following week and she was busy packing. The next day I went home for the Christmas break – I’m from way up north – Ullapool. I tried ringing her a couple of times but
it always went to voicemail. Then I got that email from her – New Year’s Day it was – and like I said, that was the last I ever heard.’

  ‘Do you know if she told Gordon that she was terminating the pregnancy?’

  ‘I asked her. When I was at the clinic with her I asked if Gordon knew, if she’d discussed it with him. She said, why should she? She said she’d told me she was going to leave him, it was nothing to do with him.’

  ‘So you don’t think she told him?’

  ‘No, but I can’t be certain.’

  ‘You wouldn’t happen to know what form of birth control she used?’

  ‘I do, actually. When she told me she was pregnant, I said, “What, did you forget to take a pill or something? You should have one of those things put in your arm.” She said no way would she have needles stuck in her and anyway, Gordon hadn’t been happy with her taking things like that, all those hormones causing havoc with her body, and she agreed. So they used condoms instead.’

  Neil went straight to Graeme and repeated Kirsty’s story.

  ‘I want to speak to Gordon Renfrew again. Myself, this time. It’s obvious this was an abusive relationship.’

  ‘Is it?’

  Neil frowned. ‘The fact that she stopped seeing her friends when she moved in with him, that he dictated what contraception they would use, that she started taking her time about going home in the evening. And according to him she decided to leave after she had the miscarriage, when according to Kirsty she was making plans before that, plans he can’t have known anything about.’

  ‘OK, well that’s one interpretation …’

  ‘Did he know she had an abortion? Did she lie to him or did he lie to us? That’s what I want to find out.’

  ‘And what exactly will that achieve? He’s got a watertight alibi, don’t forget. Or are you suggesting he jumped overboard in the middle of the night, swam the Channel in record time …’

  ‘Of course I’m not suggesting anything so ridiculous! But it does seem extremely convenient that the one weekend in six months that he has an unshakeable alibi is the weekend Katie disappeared.’