Make You Sorry

by Christine Rae-Jones

  ‘Could it?’ Morgan asked Bingley, expecting the sort of non-committal response for which crime scene managers and pathologists were renowned.

  ‘It could, but I don’t think so.’ He flicked the switch and the picture was replaced by another which showed the cardboard and an area of Abigail Slater’s lap in much greater magnification. ‘As you know, the dress has gone to the lab, and it’s way too early for any results. But, if you want an early opinion, I’d say that the dark staining on the dress below the cardboard may be ink. It’s not mud or dirt because the colours have separated out. Did any of you do that experiment at school where you put ink on filter paper and dropped solvent on top to let the colours run? I think that stain is the separated colours of a dark ink.’

  ‘Print from the cardboard box?’ asked Morgan.

  ‘Could be,’ said Bingley, ‘but most boxes are printed in waterproof inks.’

  ‘Or a message from a murderer.’ It was Dave Spence’s first contribution to the meeting and it chilled the room.

  Chapter 24

  Tuesday 11th February

  ‘Where’s the fiancé in all this?’ DC Jenson broke the silence and everyone seemed to exhale together.

  Morgan looked at his notes. ‘Yes. Mr Joseph Kendrick. He’s an American who trades in crude oil futures. I tried his mobile after Abi’s parents identified her, but it went straight to voicemail. I left a message but nothing yet. I spoke to his mother this morning. She and her husband have lived in England for nearly ten years.’ He skipped a few lines. ‘She told me that her son spent the night before the wedding with them. On Saturday, he dressed and went to the Register Office with his best man, in case Abi turned up. When she didn’t, he drove to his own flat, packed a bag and rang to tell her that he was going away for a while, to get his head straight. Those weren’t her exact words, but that’s the gist of it. She told me that her husband thought Abi had met someone and gone off with him instead. Apparently, she had been flirting with the husband when the family invited her to theirs for Christmas. Mum said that she and her husband thought from the start that Abi was a bit of a trollop.’

  ‘That’s a word I haven’t heard for a while,’ said Bingley.

  ‘I think she was giving me the polite version.’

  ‘Did the message you left the fiancé say that she’d been found?’ asked Smart and Morgan nodded.

  ‘Found dead or found murdered?’ asked Spence.

  ‘I said she’d been found dead under suspicious circumstances and that he needed to contact us urgently so we could give him more information,’ said Morgan.

  ‘Surely, if he went to the trouble of turning up at the Register Office, it suggests he thought she was still alive,’ said Smart reviewing the notes on her pad.

  ‘Great bluff if he killed her,’ argued Jenson.

  ‘He wanted to marry her so why would he kill her?’ Smart was looking round the faces for an answer to her question.

  ‘Because she was a trollop.’ Spence provided it.

  Morgan sensed that they weren’t going to get much further in the briefing so he returned to his folder and started to allocate tasks to his new team.

  ‘DS Spence, can you track down Joseph Kendrick, wherever he is, and whatever he is doing. If his parents shared their low opinion of Abi with him, he might have been angry and humiliated enough to kill her, especially if he knew she’d been flirting with his father. Maybe he would think it appropriate to put her in her wedding dress? Who knows how people’s minds work?’

  DC Smart volunteered to see if there was any CCTV on the street where Abi collected her wedding dress so they could put her departure on the time-line. She said she would also liaise with CSI and report back to the team when analyses had been completed.

  ‘When I was waiting for Abi’s parents at the mortuary, I read some of the posts on social media,’ said Morgan. ‘She seems to have been something of a night owl and well known at the local clubs. I would go myself, but my party clothes are in storage at the moment. Spence, can you take DC Smart to the most likely venues and see what you can find out. Was Abi a regular? When was she last there? Did she go there with Mr Kendrick, her fiancé? Did anyone see her arguing?’ He was counting the questions off on his fingers and when he looked up, Spence’s expression was withering. ‘Yes, I know. You’ve done this before. I was thinking out loud, really. If we can’t get any joy from speaking to the staff, then I’m afraid you’ll need to go during opening hours and speak to the punters. Sorry.’

  Morgan pointed to Jenny Smart. ‘You and I are going to go and visit Abigail’s flatmate. Nobody knows you better than the person you live with.’

  The briefing ended and the officers and civilians started to leave. Morgan replaced his papers in their folder and headed for the door.

  ‘DI Morgan. At last!’ The same woman who Morgan had seen Spence follow down the corridor was waiting for him and he saw that she was holding a copy of his statement.

  He called after Spence. ‘Change of plan. Can you and Jenny go and interview the flatmate, Juliet Riddington? See if you can find out a bit more about what Abigail Slater was really like.’ He turned his attention back to the woman. ‘You must be DI Patel. I’m sorry about yesterday. It all got a bit hectic after... well, you know.’ She nodded and held her arm forward indicating that he should lead the way back to her office. Morgan felt like a prisoner under escort.

  Chapter 25

  Tuesday 11th February

  Spence led Smart to his car. Her promotion to Detective Constable was recent, but he knew that Jenny Smart was ambitious and already had her eye on the next rung of the ladder.

  ‘Any chance I can lead the interview?’ she asked. ‘I’m ready.’ She delved into her black shoulder bag and produced a notebook which was not police issue. ‘I spent last night going through the information we already have on Abigail Slater’s disappearance and I’ve made a list of questions for both the fiancé and the flatmate.’

  Spence was dubious but having nothing prepared himself, he agreed. As he drove, Smart went through her list and he suggested a couple of follow-on questions to help the structure and flow of the interview. By the time they got to the flat, they had a plan and he sensed Smart’s excitement.

  The voice that answered when Spence pressed the buzzer was hesitant and anxious. She told them to come up to the third floor and the door release clicked.

  ‘It’s not a very inspiring property for a go-getter solicitor in the making,’ grumbled Spence as they reached the second floor.

  ‘What was your first flat like then?’

  ‘You’ve got a point. It stank of fish and chips from the takeaway underneath, and during rush hour there was enough carbon monoxide coming in the window to fell a horse.’

  Smart laughed. ‘The stairwell up to my first flat smelt of piss.’

  ‘Oh, nice. Thank you for sharing.’ They trudged upwards.

  The door to the flat was open and Juliet Riddington was waiting for them. Bloodshot eyes were sunk into black hollows and her nose was red. She was wearing button down pyjamas with a cartoon character on the pocket and her robe hung open.

  ‘I’m sorry. I overslept,’ she said and looked down at her clothes. ‘I’ve not slept well since Abi disappeared and then when they told me about finding her, well...’ She shook her head and closed her eyes.

  ‘Come and sit down, Juliet.’ Jenny Smart guided her into the lounge and towards a worn, grey sofa. She moved a box of tissues on the table nearer. ‘How did you find out?’

  ‘A journalist rang me at tea time yesterday and said they found her in the woods.’

  Jenny Smart made eye contact with Spence and he nodded.

  ‘That was a little premature,’ she said, ‘but we do have her identification confirmed now. I’m sorry.’ Juliet Riddington shrunk back into the sofa.

  ‘I knew it was her.’ She dabbed at her eyes and then blew her nose again.

  Spence held back. He was uncomfortable in the presence of crying women
. He never knew what to say or do and when he tried, it always seemed to make things worse. A corner of the room served as a kitchen and, spotting the kettle, he asked if he should make tea.

  ‘I’ve no milk,’ said Juliet. ‘I’m sorry.’ She blew her nose again. ‘Abi usually did the shopping on a weekend.’ Inwardly, Spence groaned. Yup, he’d made her feel worse. He crossed to the sink and filled a glass with water. This woman was at serious risk of dehydration.

  Jenny Smart sat down on the sofa and took her official notebook out of her bag. ‘I know this is hard, Juliet, but there may be things you can tell us that’ll help us catch whoever has done this. We’ll have a chat today and then you can come to the station later in the week to make a proper statement.’ Juliet nodded but didn’t look up.

  ‘Let’s start with how long you’ve both lived here, shall we?’

  Spence leaned back against the kitchen unit and listened. Jenny Smart’s patient but persistent questioning technique impressed him and he didn’t interrupt. Smart seemed to sense when Juliet was becoming uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation and she changed course to keep the information coming. But she never failed to re-visit the issue until she got what she needed.

  Juliet told them that she and Abi got on well from the minute they met at their university Fresher’s Ball. Because Abi’s course was longer than Juliet’s, there were a couple of years when they hadn’t seen as much of each other, but when Abi got her job at Fletcher, Armstrong & Gault, they decided to find a modest rental together whilst they saved a deposit for a property.

  ‘She said when we got to the point of buying somewhere, her dad would draw up a contract for us. He’s a solicitor too. Does celebrity contracts. Later on, if one of us wanted to move in with a partner, we were going to sell up and split the equity.’

  ‘You couldn’t have been expecting Abi to meet someone so soon after moving in together.’ Smart’s comment was met with a shrug.

  ‘She fell head over heels and suddenly it’s all bridal magazines and honeymoon brochures.’ Juliet reached for another tissue but her eyes were dry now and her expression, angry. ‘She didn’t think about anyone apart from herself. I can see that now. She didn’t care how other people were affected by her actions. She’d vanished before, you know. Just disappeared for a couple of days without a word to anyone. That’s why I didn’t contact the police straight away. When it happened before, she would just turn up and say she’d felt like getting away from it all.’

  Jenny Smart nodded, jotting down a few notes. ‘What about other boyfriends? From what you’ve said it seems that Abi got engaged quite quickly after meeting her fiancé. Did that upset anyone else in her life?’

  ‘Abi drew men to her. If we went out together she would be the life and soul, always casting around to track her next conquest. She liked men. I stopped asking her who she was with because it changed every time and I couldn’t keep up.’ Juliet’s voice dropped and she leant towards Smart as if sharing a secret. ‘I suppose she was a bit of a slapper, really. At least, if she’d not had the posh accent and the expensive clothes, people would have said she was a slapper.’

  Spence was reluctant to intervene but needed clarification. ‘So, do you think it was male company she craved, or sex?’

  Juliet looked startled, as if she had forgotten he was there and turned to him. ‘Abi had a difficult relationship with her parents. Whatever she did to please them, it was never enough. They could have given her the deposit for a property out of her mother’s clothing budget but no, we had to live in this shitty place and earn the right to get on to the property ladder. I think she craved being wanted and sometimes she confused that with being used. I suppose having sex was the price she paid for that feeling of being wanted.’

  ‘And where did she find these men?’ he asked.

  ‘Clubs, bars, on buses and trains and at work. I never asked.’ Juliet’s answers were quieter now. ‘Abi craved love and attention. But it got her into trouble. She told me they had extended her probation period at work. Twice, I think.’

  ‘Was that to do with her disappearances?’ asked Smart. ‘She wouldn’t have been a very reliable employee.’

  ‘She didn’t talk to me about it, but I thought it might have been because she had relationships with people she met at work.’

  ‘You mean the other solicitors?’ Spence asked.

  ‘I mean the clients.’ The look she gave Spence implied that she thought he was stupid.

  ‘Juliet, do you have any idea why anyone might feel anger towards Abi?’ asked Smart.

  Juliet looked away, avoiding Smart’s penetrating stare. ‘No, I don’t,’ she said. She wrapped the robe around herself and got up from the sofa. ‘I need to get dressed now. I’ve got someone coming to see the flat this afternoon and I need to straighten everything up. Did you say you needed to see her bedroom?’

  When she opened the door to Abi’s room it was obvious that any opportunity to harvest forensic material from boyfriends who had stayed over, had been bleached, polished and vacuumed away. Juliet told them that she’d cleaned up as a nice surprise for Abi when she came home.

  ‘Was she wearing her engagement ring when they found her?’ she asked.

  Jenny Smart looked at Spence who shrugged. ‘I’m sorry, we don’t know,’ she answered.

  ‘I just wondered where it went. It wasn’t in her room. Is that it, now? I really need to get on.’

  Smart handed Juliet her card and told her she would be in touch to set up an appointment for them to take a statement. She also said that they would try to arrange a visit to the flat by a forensics team and asked Juliet to postpone the viewing by the potential new flatmate. Juliet gave a resigned nod.

  Chapter 26

  Tuesday 11th February

  ‘Take a seat DI Morgan,’ said DI Maggy Patel, ‘I believe you’ve already met DC Greenfield?’ He turned to see that Lynn Greenfield had followed them in and was closing the door.

  ‘Yes, I have.’ He sat in the chair opposite Patel’s, pulling it up closer to her desk where he rested his hands, fingers interlaced.

  ‘I’m not going to lie, when I first read this, I thought you were taking the Mickey.’ Patel was pointing to his statement which she’d tossed on her desk as she sat down. ‘Then, when you failed to turn up to answer questions about it, I considered a formal interrogation under caution.’ Morgan glanced around while he waited to intervene. This office was bigger than his, but it had two desks so she must have to share with someone. ‘But I heard you had a pretty full agenda yesterday.’

  His smile was rueful. ‘You could say that.’

  He watched her long thin fingers align the sheets of paper with the edge of her desk before she spoke again.

  ‘I’ve read your statement – many times in fact because it doesn’t take long. You discover a body - a body that’s still bleeding - in a house where you’ve spent the night, and you only have enough information to fill a page and a quarter of an MG11?’

  Nick Morgan knew that the raised inflection at the end of her sentence meant that she expected him to respond but he had too much experience to make that mistake. For a fleeting moment, he thought about saying “no comment.” He kept his face emotionless and held her gaze. Beside him, Lynn Greenfield cleared her throat.

  ‘Okay, let’s go through it, minute by minute, from the time you got in your car in London.’ Patel reached into her drawer and pulled out another statement form and a pile of additional sheets. She made a theatrical gesture of clicking her pen and waited for him to speak.

  It took almost an hour of questions and answers which jumped backwards and forwards in the time-line of his account before Patel seemed satisfied that she had all the information she needed to draft his new statement. She had been particularly interested in the fact that his car was missing when Spence had arrived at Cliffside House. Morgan told her that he had been drinking and didn’t think that being arrested for excess alcohol would be a very impressive start to his
new role.

  ‘So, that..,’ she tapped on his original statement for emphasis, ‘is the result of your embarrassment that you were pissed and may have slept while a man was murdered upstairs.’

  ‘No, that..,’ he leant forward and copied her gesture, ‘is the result of having a loaded removal van, and my wife, twins and dog, all bearing down on a house I no longer had access to.’ Patel stayed silent and he continued. ‘And if that wasn’t bad enough, the hotel where we had planned to spend the night cancelled my booking, so while my family were thundering down the motorway, I knew we had nowhere to sleep. When I wrote that, I had a lot on my mind.’ He sat back in his chair satisfied that he had justified the insufficiency of his first statement.

  Patel nodded. ‘Okay, I understand. I don’t know if there will be other questions, DI Morgan, but I know where to find you.’

  He got up. ‘Any idea when Cliffside House is to be released?’ he asked.

  ‘A day or two at the most. It’s a bit of a shambles in there and it’s taking time for CSI to convince themselves they’ve not missed anything. The keys will go back to Dorothy Cooper as she’s the named owner at Land Registry. She’s your mother-in-law, isn’t she?’ He nodded. ‘Poor you,’ she said and smiled. She stood and they shook hands. ‘Welcome to the team, Nick. You’ll get used to us.’

  Chapter 27

  Tuesday 11th February

  Before finishing for the day, Morgan rang round to check progress and to update everyone with the news Spence had given him of the missing engagement ring. He decided there wasn’t enough new information to justify holding an evening briefing and went upstairs where he found Johnson packing papers into his briefcase. The DCI did not bother to hide his disappointment.