‘And Mal?’
‘Malcolm, Malcolm Clarke. I met him in hospital too. I don’t think I’ve got his address but he pops in here most days to make sure that I’m okay. That sort of thing.’ She smiled brightly at them both.
‘I see. Thank you,’ said Carlson, although he didn’t really see at all. ‘Which hospital were you in?’
‘The Abbey,’ she said.
Carlson raised his eyebrow questioningly.
‘It’s a private hospital, on the outskirts of Bristol,’ Lissa told him. ‘With a psychiatric wing. That’s where I met both Mal and Jenni.’
‘How do you get in touch with Mal?’ asked Carlson. ‘Texts? Call him?’
‘Oh no, chief inspector. Mal said I didn’t need his number. As I say, he’s here every day and he seems to pop by just as I need him,’ Lissa replied.
‘I see,’ said Carlson, thinking that, the more the relationship was explained to him, the less he understood it. ‘You said you had an accident in Spain. Was that a car accident? Is that why you don’t drive anymore?’
‘I’d prefer not to say,’ said Lissa and she pulled a cushion close to her chest to hug it. ‘I suffer from agoraphobia now and panic attacks. I struggle with new places, long journeys, that sort of thing. It’s fear of the marketplace rather than of wide open spaces as is popularly believed.’
‘I’m sorry to hear that,’ said Carlson. ‘I’ve got some other photos that I’d like you to look at, if you don’t mind. These are e-fits, and I’d like to see if you recognise them?’
Lissa nodded and Carlson handed her the images one after another, pausing to give her time to study the faces properly.
She rifled through them and offered them back.
‘Take a good look, Miss Warren, a really good look,’ Carlson said. He wondered if DC Jessop had noticed the slight tremor in her hands and how she caught her breath when she saw the faces.
Lissa sighed and sifted through the photographs once more. ‘I’m sorry, chief inspector, I have no idea who these men are. I can’t help you, I’m afraid.’ She stared at him, looking straight into his eyes as if daring him to contradict her.
Carlson hesitated briefly before retrieving the images from her. He stood, thanked her for her time and both officers left.
As they walked down the external stairs, Carlson said, ‘Well, Tim, what did you think of that?’
‘She was lying, sir. She knew them. But she was frightened of them,’ he replied. ‘I jotted down my impression of her reaction.’
‘Well done. Did you notice the plants on the window ledge?’
‘I will confess, sir, that I needed a second look. The foliage confused me for a moment. I thought it was marijuana,’ said Tim
‘No, not marijuana. They were castor oil plants,’ said Carlson. ‘Isn’t that interesting? Now let’s go and talk to the landlady, shall we?’
If Jenni Frobisher was surprised to find two police officers on her doorstep, she did not show it. After checking their warrant cards she invited them in and offered refreshments. Both Carlson and Jessop declined the offer.
‘We had tea with your lodger,’ said Carlson, watching the young woman carefully for her reaction.
‘Lissa’s a friend, not really a lodger,’ Jenni replied. ‘We met in hospital. Lissa had had a breakdown and I was recovering from anorexia.’
Carlson tried hard to avoid looking at her knobbly wrists and failed. It was a disease he was all too familiar with from the experience of his younger daughter. He simply nodded, not yet trusting himself to speak.
Jessop interjected with his own question. ‘How long ago was that?’
‘Oh gosh, it must be two, nearly three years, I think. I’m not very good with dates.’ She smiled sweetly and Carlson wondered if it was the same sort of act his daughter had hidden behind.
‘Does Miss Warren go out much?’ Carlson asked.
Jenni looked at him astonished. ‘Surely she told you about her agoraphobia. She scarcely goes out at all. Sometimes I take her to her therapist or the doctors. Sometimes to her parents, but other than that she’s scared to leave the house.’
‘And how about you, do you ever drive Miss Warren’s car?’
‘Yes, like I said sometimes when I drive her places we go in my car, and when it’s here we sometimes go in her car,’ Jenni replied.
‘When the car is here?’ asked Carlson. ‘How often is the car elsewhere?’
‘Not often, but sometimes her friend, Mal, borrows the car,’ Jenni said as she clutched a cushion to her body and started plucking at a loose thread. Again, the action reminded Carlson of Jade, his daughter. She’d always hugged a cushion during difficult conversations.
‘You know Mal too? That’s good. Do you have a telephone number for him?’ Carlson retained his calm demeanour, despite his excitement at getting closer to the truth.
‘No,’ said Jenni, pulling the thread from the cushion and causing the seam to burst. ‘I’ve not had any dealings with him at all.’
Carlson bit the inside of his cheek. ‘That’s a shame,’ he said. ‘Now, can you account for your movements on the twelfth of May and seventh of July this year?’
‘Me?’ said Jenni, clearly astounded at the question. ‘I’ve already told you, I’m not very good with dates. I’d have to check my calendar.’
Carlson nodded towards her phone and Jenni snatched it up, stabbing at it furiously. ‘I was with my parents both times,’ she announced. ‘In London, and in July we were at their villa in Italy.’
‘Thank you,’ said Carlson. Then, as if it were an afterthought, he said, ‘You mentioned Miss Warren suffers from agoraphobia – she spoke of it herself. Do you know if she is scared of anything in particular?’
‘If she’s not told you herself, then I don’t think it’s right for me to say anything.’ Jenni snapped her lips shut into a thin line. She stood. ‘If there’s nothing else?’ She motioned her hand towards the sitting room door expecting them to take their leave.
Both officers rose, towering over her. ‘This is a police enquiry, Miss Frobisher,’ Carlson reminded her. ‘It would be very helpful to know as much about Miss Warren’s background as possible.’
‘Then you’ll need to wait outside while I call my solicitor,’ Jenni retorted.
Carlson sighed, annoyed with himself for shattering the rapport they had been building. Once the shutters were pulled down he knew there would be no further information from this witness unless he arrested her, and he had no grounds to do so even if he had been on his own patch.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
23rd July 2018
Lissa rushed to the hallway window and watched the two police officers walk up the gravel path to the main house. Digging her nails into the painted window ledge, she tore herself away from wondering about the conversation they would have with Jenni. Panic rose. Blood raced through her ears, pounding like angry surf on a beach. There was only one way to quell the noise. She opened the freezer, pushing pizzas and ready meals aside and retrieved a bottle of own-brand supermarket vodka. Thank goodness for store deliveries, she thought.
Taking the cap off she drank straight from the bottle, then dropped to her knees clutching her forehead. Brain freeze. I wish I could freeze all of my thoughts and dig them out of my head, she thought. Struggling to her feet, she grabbed a glass from the draining board and poured until it reached the brim. Careful not to spill any she gulped down the thick, syrupy liquid. Not enough, she could still feel their hands clawing at her clothes, still smell the sweat and beer. Still hear herself crying for help. See the flashes of fireworks, the scorched smell of the saltpetre and bonfire smoke.
Was this what Mal had been up to, she wondered. Was this the explanation for his disappearing acts? Was this the reason he needed her car all the time? I’ll have to hide the keys, she thought. Make sure he can’t take the car anymore. Oh, Mal, what have you done? She poured herself another glass and raised it to her lips, her hands shaking all the while.
&n
bsp; Lissa’s knees liquefied and she stumbled to the sofa, still clutching the defrosting bottle. She switched on some music to drown out the voices and kept drinking.
Later she woke, fuzzy and befuddled. It was evening. The sun was low on the horizon. Looking down at her top, Lissa realised she had vomited. Cursing she removed it, slung it into the washing machine and stumbled to the bathroom. She almost tumbled into the tub as she placed the plug into its aperture, ran the water and poured in some oils. Whilst the water ran, she stripped, put on a dressing gown and collected the vodka bottle. Damn, empty. She frowned, trying to remember where the other bottle was. There was another bottle, wasn’t there?
In the kitchen she opened a cupboard and carefully removed the box of cornflakes. It rattled as she placed it on the work surface. Smiling she pulled out a fresh bottle of vodka, found a clean glass and went back to the bathroom.
After the police left, Jenni spent a long time on the phone to her parents. She agreed to talk with Lissa and perhaps persuade her to go back into the Abbey for further treatment. She trotted up the stairs to Lissa’s front door and knocked. The music which had been so loud earlier had stopped, and the place had an eerie hush. Jenni knocked louder and then tried the door handle. It was locked but she had brought a spare key with her.
‘Lissa,’ she called as she stepped into the small hallway. ‘Liss?’
She was met with a shroud of silence. The air smelt damp as if the room had held a cloud of steam. ‘Lissa?’ But still no reply.
Jenni tried the bedroom door, but the room was bereft of human occupancy. The bed was pulled together as if the owner had tugged the duvet into place, without caring about the final impression. Clothes lay abandoned on the floor where they had been shrugged off. Jenni shut the door and tried the office. Again, the air of abandonment. The laptop sat on the desk, a white light blinking. Jenni touched the mouse but was stalled at the password stage.
Where was she? Banging loudly on the bathroom door, Jenni opened it slowly. More clothes lay on the floor, dishevelled and discarded. Lissa lay in the bath, her face under the water and no bubbles rose from her nose or mouth. Jenni dashed to the side of the tub and pulled at her friend’s body. As she tried to get a better grasp, Lissa slipped back into the water. Jenni grabbed her under the arms and heaved her over the edge and dumped her on the bathroom floor, covered her with a towel and called for an ambulance. At her feet, Lissa coughed and Jenni sank to the floor with relief. Hugging her friend close to her and rubbing her skin to dry her and keep her warm, she waited for help.
‘Your friend was lucky you arrived when you did,’ said the paramedic. ‘A few more minutes and she would have been a goner. Do you know if she’s taken anything?’
‘No, I don’t. I found the vodka bottle in the bathroom and another one in the sitting room, but nothing else.’ Jenni braced herself in the ambulance as it shot around a corner with siren wailing.
‘Has she been suicidal before?’
Jenni was silent and the paramedic looked at her with concern and slightly raised eyebrows. ‘I’ll take that as a yes, shall I?’ she said.
Jenni nodded. ‘We met whilst we were in the Abbey. I walked into her room and found her with a knife. I laughed and told her she was doing it wrong. It seemed to hit the right note. We’ve been friends ever since.’ She stroked Lissa’s leg affectionately, realising that it was the truth. Lissa had been part of her life for three years and although troubled herself was always ready to listen to Jenni’s problems. If only Jenni had repaid in kind.
‘I should have gone over to see her earlier,’ she said. ‘I should never have left her alone after the police went.’
The paramedic simply nodded and made no comment. She checked Lissa’s vitals, adjusted the breathing mask and asked the driver how much longer before they reached the hospital.
When they arrived at A&E, Jenni checked Lissa in whilst the patient was assessed in a side room. She peeked in to see them pumping Lissa’s stomach and she decided to sit down for a moment and let the medics work in peace. She jumped when her name was called. She’d fallen asleep. Her friend could be dead, and she’d fallen asleep. The doctor repeated her name then started to walk away.
‘Hey,’ said Jenni. ‘I’m awake. How is she?’
‘She’s stable for now. Are you family?’
‘I’m her friend. I live next door. I’m the one who found her.’
‘I see,’ the doctor frowned. ‘Well, as I said, she’s comfortable and stable. She’s not conscious so I suggest you go home. You can call for an update in the morning.’
‘I’d like to stay. At least until her parents get here.’
‘As you wish,’ replied the medic, and stalked off.
25th July 2018.
‘Hey, you. What have you been up to?’ Mal nudged her foot with his newspaper as Lissa slowly opened her eyes. .
‘You’re here,’ she said, smiling and yawning at the same time. ‘I’ve missed you. Where have you been?’
‘Oh, you know me. This and that. I had some things to take care of. Now, tell me, what have you done to yourself?’ Mal took a cardigan from the chair and laid it on the foot of the bed. He pulled the curtain around the bed and moved the chair closer to her and held Lissa’s hand while she told him about her accident. She looked tired, with dark shadows under her eyes. He picked up her hand and brought it gently to his lips. It was dry and rough. ‘You’ve not been taking care of yourself. I can see that much.’
‘The police frightened me. They had my car on camera. Near where someone was killed. And then they showed me photos…’
‘Lissa, Lissa, calm down,’ Mal cooed at her. ‘Everything is going to be okay. I’m taking care of all of it. Just don’t worry.’
‘But I do worry. They asked how I got hold of you and I felt such an idiot when I said I didn’t have your mobile number. I could see they didn’t believe me. You have to let me have your number.’
Mal frowned at her and smoothed an imaginary spike of her hair. ‘You have my number already in your phone. I put it there. Don’t you remember?’
‘Do I?’ she said. ‘Show me.’ She passed him the phone and was unsurprised when he unlocked it with her code.
‘Look, here it is, silly girl,’ he said, showing her the contacts’ list. ‘Don’t you remember taking the selfie together?’
Lissa smiled. ‘Yes, yes, of course,’ she said. ‘I must have forgotten in the panic of the police being there. I was so scared, Mal.’
‘You said already, but everything is going to work out just fine.’ He raised his head as if alert to an unseen danger, and squeezed her hand. ‘You just have to trust me,’ he said.
Lissa lay back on her pillows and smiled at him. She started as the curtain was pulled aside and her mother poked her head through the gap. ‘Hello, Lissa,’ she said. ‘I thought I heard you talking. Who were you talking to?’
‘Hi, Mum,’ Lissa said pushing herself upright. ‘I was talking to Mal… Oh, he was just here. I think you must have frightened him away.’
‘Yes, he does seem very quick on his feet,’ replied her mother. ‘Now look, I’ve been talking to the doctors and you can come home, but Daddy and I think that it’s best if you come back to the lodge with us. Maybe even take a short break. How does that sound?’
‘It sounds lovely, Mummy,’ said Lissa glumly. ‘Just what I need.’
‘Good,’ said Sandra. ‘So, let’s pack up your things and you can come home with me now.’
‘Now?’
‘Yes, darling, now. I think it’s for the best, don’t you?’ said her mother, pulling the bed clothes back. ‘Jenni helped me pack some clothes for you, so we don’t even need to go back to the flat. We can leave straight away.’
Chapter Thirty-Nine
1st August 2018
Gippingford Police HQ
The entire team squeezed around the table waiting for the spider phone to ring. At the allotted time the single peal reverberated around the room and Poo
le leaned forwards to press the green button.
‘Hallo, this is Sub-inspector Etxandi here. To whom am I speaking?’
‘Hello, inspector,’ said Carlson. ‘I am Detective Chief Inspector Carlson, with me is Detective Sergeant Ben Poole, Detective Constable Jane Lacey and Detective Constable Tim Jessop.’
As each person was introduced they said hello to the distant voice.
‘How did you meet Melissa Warren, Inspector Etxandi?’ asked Carlson
‘Please call me Amaya. I work for UFAM,’ she pronounced it as one word – Oofam instead of by the individual letters. ‘Señorita Warren had been attacked and was brought into the Complejo Hospitalario de Navarra. It is biggest of our three hospitals and deals with all emergencies. The doctors stabilised her and treated her wounds but kept her in a coma for a few days while the swelling to her brain, was… er made smaller. When I spoke to her it was three weeks after the attack. She was not able to tell me much about her attackers.’
‘I see,’ said Carlson. ‘I understand she lost all her cameras, so was it a mugging?’
‘Señor Carlson, have you spoken to Señorita Warren?’ Amaya sounded concerned.
‘I have but she would not tell me what had happened to her. At first we thought it was a car accident. Perhaps you could tell us what happened and how you came to be involved?’
‘UFAM is a national police organisation for the family and women. We deal with general violence against women including domestic and sexual. I met with Señorita Warren because she had been raped and beaten. She was beaten so badly that she had to be sedated, as I said, for several days.’
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