The Secret Admirer: An absolutely gripping crime thriller (Detective Natalie Ward Book 6)

by Carol Wyer

  ‘She felt it was a step forward. She was extremely cautious about who she gave her number to. She’d had a stalker in the past. At the time, I thought that seemed logical and I didn’t press her for it. We emailed each other.’

  Natalie read through the last messages. It did appear that this person, Maisie, was reluctant to hand out any personal information other than an email address. In fact, she’d asked for Henry’s address and said she’d email him, rather than message it to him on the dating website, consequently Natalie had no note of it. ‘I’d like to see any emails you have from her.’

  ‘Ah, that’s a bit difficult because I deleted them.’

  ‘Why?’

  He tapped his fingertips together gently before speaking. ‘Can I be completely honest with you?’

  ‘I’d rather you were.’

  ‘At the time I signed up with the site, I was looking for some fun. My wife and I were going through a difficult patch and having a trial separation. I joined out of… well, I don’t need to explain. I wanted to meet somebody carefree with no ties, someone who wasn’t into having a serious relationship. Maisie fitted the bill perfectly. She was bright, cheerful and made me laugh. Soon after we swapped email addresses, we arranged to meet in Birmingham for a day together and see where it would lead.’

  He sucked in a deep breath and released it noisily. ‘We emailed each other constantly every day for a week. She was giving off all the right signals – keen to meet me, had a lot in common, looking for a fun relationship – but then the day before the date, she emailed me to say she couldn’t make it. Her business was struggling and she had import duty to pay on some goods she’d purchased on a recent trip to Dubai. She needed cash to get them out of customs and asked if I could lend her £3,000 to pay for them to be released. She promised she’d pay me back once the stuff was sold and assured me it was worth far more than that, but I refused. I couldn’t lend her that amount. I simply didn’t have it. Although we were separated, I still had a wife and three children to support. And, since then, we’ve got back together. Anyway, after that, she didn’t reply to any of my emails and didn’t contact me again. We hadn’t exchanged phone numbers so I couldn’t ring her. I dodged a bullet. It was clearly a scam. She’d only been after me for money. I’d made an idiot of myself, but luckily, I hadn’t handed over any cash.’

  ‘Did you report her to the dating website?’

  ‘No, I’d stopped visiting the site by then and was in talks with my wife to try and rebuild our relationship. I figured it was best to walk away. She didn’t get anything out of me.’

  ‘But you might have saved somebody else from falling for it.’

  ‘I honestly didn’t think about that. I wanted to forget the whole sorry situation. It was embarrassing and I felt such an idiot.’

  ‘Did she send you any photos of herself?’

  ‘I deleted them. I want my marriage to work. I don’t think hanging on to photos of a young woman would have been the best decision.’

  ‘What sort of photos were they? Selfies? Taken at work? Holiday snaps? Sexy pictures?’

  He cleared his throat before saying, ‘Mostly sexy ones.’

  ‘Did you send her any of you?’

  ‘A few but nothing outrageous that would incriminate me.’

  ‘What about pictures of her with other people? Was there anybody else in any of the photos?’

  ‘No. Only her. I confess I feel really stupid about the whole thing and I haven’t told my wife about it. I deleted everything on my phone and put it all behind me. We’re all entitled to make the odd mistake, aren’t we? In the end, I only got up to some harmless flirting, nothing more than that.’

  ‘Can you tell me where you were on Friday last week, between seven and seven thirty in the evening?’

  ‘At home with my wife and children.’

  ‘And you were at home all evening?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘At your house in Sutton Coldfield?’

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘We’d like to examine your mobile phone if possible.’

  ‘Certainly, but I’ve deleted all the emails between us.’

  ‘Our technicians are very good at finding lost details,’ she replied.

  He slid a black iPhone across the table. ‘When can I get it back? I need it for work.’

  ‘As soon as we’ve finished with it. We’ll be as quick as we can.’ She took it from him and thanked him for his time.

  ‘Scott was pretty sure she was trying to scam him. She came up with some cock-and-bull story about her gran being kicked out of a care home. He told her to bugger off,’ said Murray. ‘I couldn’t find out any more but that story about the care home raised a red flag for me; Fran’s grandmother’s in a care home, and of course, Fran lived with Gemma. She might have set up the scam.’

  ‘I agree. That definitely warrants our attention,’ said Natalie. She told both Murray and Ian what she’d learnt from Henry. ‘Definitely sounds like this person – whoever they are – was catfishing. Ian, have you got details of Gemma’s bank account yet?’

  ‘Not yet. Want me to speed things up?’

  ‘Definitely. We need to establish if she was in debt or if any significant deposits were made into her account. Gemma might be our catfisher, but I find it really hard to believe she’d use a fake name and details but still put up her own photo. She was clearly an intelligent girl and that isn’t what somebody like her would do. Run checks on Fran’s account, and while you’re at it, Hattie’s too. Whoever was trying to scam these men might have succeeded with others. I’m going to talk to Gemma’s mother. Keep me posted and let me know if there are any developments whatsoever.’

  She was about to leave when she got a call from Ralph. ‘I’ve downloaded the information from David’s satnav. He wasn’t anywhere near the university on any occasion or even in Samford. He drove to exactly the same spot each time in Little Harding.’ Little Harding was about ten minutes from Castergate. It was a small place with little to offer by way of facilities. ‘The car was parked on Gower Street from six until nine thirty Friday night, from four ten to eight thirty Saturday evening, and again on Sunday from ten thirty until three thirty.’

  Natalie felt her heart sink. She knew where David had been. Gower Street was home to two bookmakers and three pubs. David had undoubtedly been drinking and gambling. Old habits die hard.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Tuesday, 20 November – Late Morning

  Natalie sat on the sofa next to Sasha. The woman had scooped her unwashed hair up onto the top of her head and twisted it into a tightly coiled bun. Her skin, devoid of make-up, showed signs of age, and tiny feathery lines appeared around her eyes as she read through the dialogue on the sheet.

  ‘This doesn’t sound like Gemma at all,’ she said in a hushed voice. ‘She was never openly flirtatious – the sexual innuendos, the suggestive tone. She didn’t use language like this. She wasn’t a prude but she didn’t talk like this. These messages were not written by her. This isn’t Gemma.’

  ‘We suspected that was the case but I wanted to make sure by talking to you. You knew her better than anyone.’

  ‘She wasn’t interested in any of this online rubbish. She was better than this…’ She waved a hand impotently over the printout, unable to find the correct words. She got to her feet and strode to the window. A flat waterfall of rain was sheeting against the glass, distorting the view beyond, such as it was – rooftops and fences surrounding neighbouring gardens, from which poked the odd leafless tree.

  ‘Thank you, Sasha. You’ve confirmed our suspicions. We think somebody stole her photograph.’

  Downloading photographs of attractive people or screenshotting them for scamming purposes was becoming increasingly popular, and talking to Sasha had convinced her that Gemma had been a victim of identity fraud. She was ready to wind up the interview when she received a message from Ian:

  Gemma’s account is £468 in credit. No debts. No unusual p
ayments made into account. Still waiting for info on other accounts.

  It was further proof that somebody else was behind the scam – possibly Fran. Natalie got to her feet to leave. She halted in her tracks. Sasha had turned around and was doubled over, crying silent tears. Little by little, her legs gave way and she folded slowly onto her haunches, back against the wall, face raised to Natalie. A pain ripped through Natalie’s chest at the sight of the woman in such agony, and she crossed the room to comfort her. She couldn’t leave her to suffer alone.

  Gemma,

  I’ve been checking out your selfies on Instagram again, not that you’d know I’ve been looking at them because I don’t actually follow you, but since you haven’t set your profile to private, anyone can stare at them, and I’m sure they do because no matter what you wear, you look like some sort of celebrity or pop star or model. No wonder you get hundreds of likes for every picture you post.

  It was while I was looking at your latest post that I had ‘the idea’ and took screenshots of a few of them. I chose the one I liked best as a profile picture for the Special Ones dating website. It seemed an appropriate site. You think you’re special, don’t you? Oh so fucking special that you can’t even give me the time of day.

  I’d really like to use your actual name on this site, not a fake, but this isn’t about getting my own back on a shallow bitchface who can’t see what is under a person’s skin. This scam is about getting money from love-struck idiots who think they’re talking to you online.

  I’m going to give them all the chat, and when their tongues are hanging out and they’re desperate to meet you, I’m going to give them a reason to hand over money, then let them down.

  Ha! They’ll all end up hating you as much as I do.

  An Ex-Admirer

  On Natalie’s return to headquarters, she discovered Mike in the office, talking to Murray, Ian and Lucy. His team had managed to retrieve deleted emails from Henry’s account and not one of them had been sent to Maisie.

  ‘Not only that, but there were no photographs of her, deleted or hidden, on his mobile either,’ said Mike.

  ‘He lied to us,’ said Natalie as she removed her jacket and rolled up her sleeves. It was warm and stuffy in the room which now stank of bergamot, rosemary and cedar wood. Someone had liberally doused themselves in body spray and it wasn’t Mike. Mike used more subtle aftershaves. It wasn’t unpleasant although it irritated the back of Natalie’s throat, forcing her to clear it several times.

  Mike continued, ‘I agree because if they’d been on that device as you know, we have the technology to retrieve them. In addition to that, we found no evidence to prove he’d logged on to the Special Ones website from his phone.’ He raised his eyebrows at Natalie.

  ‘Which suggests he accessed it from a different device,’ she said.

  ‘Exactly.’

  ‘He’s a lying sod. Drag his arse back in,’ said Natalie. She leant over her desk and picked up some paperwork. The tickling in her throat proved too great and she lapsed into a rapid coughing fit. When she’d recovered, red-eyed, she demanded, ‘Who’s sprayed the office with Lynx or whatever it is?’

  Ian apologised. ‘That was me. I thought the place smelt a bit… niffy.’

  ‘Couldn’t you have opened a window?’

  ‘It was bucketing down with rain.’

  ‘For crying out loud, open it for a few minutes and let some air in. I’m choking here. Who interviewed the third man Maisie was in contact with… Felix Conway?’ she added, reading from her notes.

  ‘I did,’ said Murray, unlatching one of the windows.

  ‘What did you get out of him?’

  ‘Same as the others. He got chatting to Maisie on the website. They clicked, exchanged email addresses and were going to meet up for a weekend away, but at the eleventh hour she emailed to say she couldn’t make it. She told him some nonsense about her bank account being hacked and frozen and how she had no money for the train fare or to pay her rent that month. Needless to say, he didn’t fall for it and broke off contact with her.’

  ‘Did he email her?’ asked Natalie.

  ‘Yes. Same as the other guys.’

  ‘Weren’t they even the slightest bit suspicious from the off? Everyone’s on messaging apps or texts. Why didn’t they think it was odd she wanted to keep it anonymous? It screams “scam” to me.’

  ‘Some people are too trusting,’ said Lucy.

  ‘More like foolish!’ Natalie cleared her throat again even though the smell was evaporating. She despaired at the naivety of those duped by fraudsters even though online scams had become very sophisticated and it was often difficult to distinguish truth from fiction. It happened to numerous individuals, including those who considered themselves savvy, and then she reflected that her outburst and sour mood were not because of the stench in the office, or Henry’s lies, but because of Gemma. The possibility that somebody had used this girl in fraudulent activity had angered her. Watching Sasha crushed and sobbing had brought back her own loss. She’d bonded with Gemma’s mother, and although she was supposed to remain impartial, she couldn’t help but feel empathy. She had to get to the bottom of this to help Sasha come to terms with what had happened.

  ‘Did nobody at all report this “Maisie” to the dating website?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘I find that really strange. If it happened to me, I’d want to protect others from being ripped off. I’d report them to the police as well. Why didn’t they do that?’

  ‘Scott was embarrassed and thought the dating site organisers would get wind of it sooner or later, and Felix said he felt humiliated. He’d told Maisie a whole load of personal stuff about himself. He was really upset when he realised she was faking it, and part of him didn’t want to accept it. I’ve got his statement here if you want to read it,’ said Murray.

  Natalie took it and glanced at it. The words ‘humiliated’ and ‘depressed’ stood out. Successful scammers, or catfishers, mostly prayed on people who were vulnerable: the elderly, widows or widowers, and those who were reeling from a recent split from loved ones. David was one such person but he hadn’t been contacted by Maisie, nor was he any longer a suspect in this investigation – but Henry Warburton was.

  ‘Why did Henry tell me he received photos and deleted them, when clearly he didn’t? And why didn’t he use that mobile to access the Special Ones website or download their app? And… why haven’t we been able to find any emails that were sent to her?’

  ‘Burner phone,’ said Ian.

  ‘Exactly!’ Natalie had been sure of that possibility. ‘I wonder if he used a burner to communicate with this person or anyone else he found on the dating website. What do you think, Mike?’

  ‘It would explain why we can find nothing on the mobile we have. Or he might have used a separate SIM card.’

  ‘We don’t have the email address that this person used, do we?’

  Murray spoke up. ‘I passed it on to Mike.’

  Mike took over. ‘It was a disposable email address used to store emails temporarily and linked to the original email, but we’ve been unable to trace it or the email address it was linked to. It’s disappeared. Professional scammers have various sophisticated methods to disguise their IP address but this is more basic. Looks like that’s what happened here.’

  ‘It’s not complex?’ Natalie asked Mike.

  ‘Not at all. DEAs are used a lot these days to divert spam. It’s easy enough to obtain one. You don’t need great computer skills.’

  ‘There’s still an outside chance Gemma set up the fake profile using her own image and a fake email account to correspond with strangers and con money out of them,’ said Ian.

  Natalie didn’t buy it. ‘I don’t think so. To start with, she wasn’t in any debt, she had a decent part-time job and was focused on her studies, as far as we can tell. Besides, if she’d gone to all the trouble to get a DEA and make up all this crap about jewellery shops and grandmothers in homes, then surely sh
e’d have used a different profile picture. This definitely looks as if somebody else set it up and used a photo of her to attract their prey, and at the moment, thanks to her story about the grandmother, Fran is in the frame. I’d like Forensics to send a unit to check Fran’s room and see if we can find anything to prove she was behind this. Can you arrange that, Mike?’

  ‘Definitely.’

  They couldn’t trace the disposable email address, and as far as Natalie was concerned, Gemma was definitely not behind the scam, yet there could still be a link between the acid attack and the scam. She threw her thoughts out there for her team to consider.

  Murray shook his head. ‘I can’t see how this scam is related to the attack. This catfisher didn’t succeed. The three men we interviewed all saw through her ploy and didn’t give her any money. The only thing I can come up with is that Gemma found out about it and was attacked to keep quiet.’

  Natalie considered his theory but it seemed woolly to her. ‘She’d have reported the person.’

  ‘Maybe not if it was somebody she knew, a friend even – somebody like Fran.’

  ‘Sorry to rain on your parade, mate, but I got financial records back for Fran and Hattie and neither are in debt. Admittedly Fran only has ninety pounds in her account, but looking at her expenditure, she doesn’t spend a lot. Hattie gets regular payments of a couple of hundred pounds from her father every month. He’s set up a direct debit for her,’ said Ian.

  ‘So, the girls might not be behind the scam, but I still want Fran’s room checked out, Mike, okay?’

  ‘Yes.’

  Ian lifted up a hand like a schoolboy in class hoping to answer a question. ‘We haven’t checked out the men who Maisie tried to scam, have we? What they told us might not be true.’

  ‘It feels like we’re clutching at straws,’ said Natalie. She was going to dismiss the idea then decided they had no other options, and her gut told her there was some link between the scam and the attack on Gemma. ‘Get hold of their financial details and see if any large amounts left their accounts. If any of them made significant cash withdrawals, that might give us a new angle to work on. We have to find a clue somewhere.’ Her most likely suspect at the moment was Henry, but even he had no link to Hattie or Fran that she knew about. ‘Okay, let’s get on with what we have, and somebody ring Henry – I want to talk to him.’