Her hair was short and inky-black while a party-load of piercings spanned one ear from the lobe to the tip. She wore no make up and her skin glowed translucently, as though she had just stepped out of a popular teenage vampire novel.
“Hi there, Jemma. I understand you were a good friend of Clara’s?” Quinn spoke first.
“Of course I knew Clara. It’s all over social media, innit? It’s about time the fuzz talked to me. If that arsehole Richie Rich wasn’t already dead you’d be arresting me for his murder.” Her pent up emotions burst forth in a tirade, where Quinn had anticipated surly silence.
“So how did you meet Clara?”
Jemma’s eyes scuttled restlessly around the room, finally focusing on the window past Idris’ well-muscled shoulder as she answered. “We’d been put in some of the same classes after Christmas break. Some kids were giving her a hard time about her boyfriend. Everyone calls him Richie Rich. Anyway, they were giving her a hard time so I told them to lay off. We got chatting.”
He noted the droopy eyelids, the half-hidden yawn behind a hand. There were no needle tracks in her arms, but that happened less with teenagers. They usually preferred to snort or smoke their highs, and Jemma struck him as more comfortable in that milieu than either Clara or Bon.
“Do you recognize this?” Idris held out his phone with an image of the blood locket.
“Sure. Clara gave it to me to prove her undying love.”
“Sweet love token, eh?” Quinn let irony coat his voice. “So how did it come to be in Bon Galliers’ possession?”
“Last week the arsehole came around her house late at night. Her mother works, so she was home alone. She was scared he was going to break into the house so she called me. I came straight over and confronted Bon. He wouldn’t listen to reason. He was like a madman. He hit me and pinned me to the front door. I thought he was going to strangle me. While I was fighting him off he must have ripped the chain from around my neck. Clara heard us scrapping and opened the door, yelling at Bon that she’d called the police. He snatched the phone out of her hand, but the threat must have scared him because he took off.”
“Did Clara actually call the police?” Idris’ voice was hopeful.
Jemma turned a baleful glare on him. “As if.”
“So you and Clara got together around January and Clara began two timing Bon?” Quinn asked.
“We didn’t get together straight away. First, we just talked. She had a lot to offload. Richie Rich was obsessive and wanted her to account for every minute of her day. It was stressing her out. So we had to be careful. Besides, he was useful.”
“In what way?”
Jemma shrugged. “Cover. She wasn’t prepared to tell her mum about us. Said her mum adored Bon Galliers.”
Quinn gave her a steely-eyed look. “Is that all?”
Jemma shrugged again, dropping her eyes to examine her nails in minute detail.
“Was Bon supplying her with drugs?” Idris moved closer, his formidable size intimidating.
Jemma flashed him a sharp look, but kept her mouth closed.
Quinn muscled Idris aside. “What’s your usual fix, Jemma? Coke? Maybe not, it’s a bit expensive isn’t it? Special K? That’s a cheaper deal. You can sleep it off overnight. No nasty aftereffects the next day. Is that it? If Bon didn’t get Clara onto ketamine, maybe you did?”
“You can’t prove nothing. You’re just talking bollocks.”
“We’ve got the proof that Clara’s grades were steadily deteriorating since meeting up with you. She was dropping out of activities she loved doing and there were some big changes in her personality, according to her mother. That’s all since you came into her life. Either you had a really profound effect on her or there was some other agent in play. We’ve got the tox report back on Clara’s blood and it shows ketamine.”
Jemma’s lips sealed together in a tight line.
“Are you using? Supplying? That carries a tougher penalty. Speak to us, Jemma, and maybe we won’t have to raid your house on suspicion of drugs.” Quinn kept his voice conversational as he made the threat.
She glared back at him, two bright red spots dotting her pale cheeks, an indication of her anger. “If you must know, then, yes, Bon had access to ketamine through his father’s surgery. I don’t know exactly how he got the stuff out of there. He made Clara throw parties at her house while her mother was at work. Then he’d bring the K over in bottles of mouthwash so everyone could get wasted.”
“So Bon supplied for the fun of it?”
Quinn considered the amount of mouthwash that Bon and Phillip had stored in their bathrooms and Bon’s phone messages that documented drug deals. Was Bon using Clara to supply to other kids? Jemma’s evidence didn’t jell with that of Bon’s ex-girlfriend or his Harrow Housemates.
Quinn noticed she was now picking at her nails, plucking at the cuticles until tiny droplets of blood sprang up as she picked the skin off, asserting, “Oh, no, he charged alright. Twenty pounds a gram. And he was the one who got Clara hooked. And that’s all I’m saying.” Her voice turned truculent and Quinn doubted they’d get any more information voluntarily.
“Thanks for your time, Jemma. You’ve been very helpful.”
Chapter 20
Thursday 6 July
“What is this all about? Are you charging me?” Phillip Galliers’ face flinched as he said the words.
“No, Mr Galliers, we just want to clear a few things up,” Bex said, taking careful note of his reaction. Phillip had shown her and Eli into the same room as the last time she had spoken to him.
Upon her return to New Scotland Yard from Evie Butterworth’s, Bex had been impressed that Eli had wrangled his connections into providing immediate reports on the bottles of mouthwash he and Idris had confiscated in their search. The reports had revealed that the empty bottles found at Phillip’s had been thoroughly washed and contained only minute traces of ketamine. There wasn’t enough evidence to charge him, unless they delved more deeply into his activities.
But Phillip wasn’t her target.
“We’ve found ketamine in Bon’s possession and traces of ketamine in mouthwash bottles that were in your trash. What can you tell us about that?” Bex kept her face stoic, her eyes alert.
Impeccably dressed in dark suit pants with a plain white shirt open at the throat, he sat stiffly in an armchair to the side of the sofa. Idris and Eli had caught him early that morning with their search warrant, but Phillip hadn’t gone into work afterwards. He was taking the week off because of Bon’s death.
“I really don’t have time for this, detective. I promised my mother I’d be there when they make funeral arrangements. They’re releasing Bon’s body on Monday.”
“Mr Galliers, speaking with you here is a courtesy.” Bex let the implied threat hang in the air.
Phillip returned her glance steadily, and she felt him gauging her. Getting rid of the contents in the bottles before the police arrived proved that she couldn’t afford to underestimate him.
“So are you going to charge me? Because I’m not saying another word without a lawyer.”
“Like I said, Mr Galliers, we’re just speaking with you as a courtesy. Our interest is Bon, not you. We’re trying to determine if he was using drugs and whether or not that was a factor in affecting his attitude the day of the crash.” Bex kept her voice reasonable.
Beside her Eli lounged in his crumpled suit looking as out of place in the tastefully decorated room as wood veneer. “Was Bon using drugs?” Eli’s gruff voice prodded the Galliers’ weak spot, their reputation.
Phillip shook his head vehemently. “Bon wasn’t using. He hated the stuff. Thought his friends who took drugs were stupid.”
“Then why was the ketamine in his possession?” Eli snapped.
Phillip’s face stilled and Bex found it impossible to read. Instead she let the seconds tick by in silence. Eli followed her lead, allowing the pressure in the room to build until Phillip broke first.
&
nbsp; “The drugs were for Clara,” he said on a sigh.
“Are you saying that Clara was a user?”
Phillip shrugged. “I’m not sure if she was a user or if she just wanted Bon to supply her with the stuff so she could sell it. He was so besotted with her, he just wanted to keep her happy and was prepared to go to any lengths. He was a damn fool to do it, and I told him so.”
All the evidence corroborated Phillip’s assertion that Bon was obsessed with Clara. Was it possible that that obsession had turned him into a dupe for Clara rather than her aggressor?
“How do you know this?” Eli asked.
Phillip’s lips pursed and Bex could almost see the cogs whirling as he gave Eli’s question some thought, trying to decide if it was in the Galliers’ best interest to answer or simply wait for a lawyer.
Coming to a decision, he began to speak and Eli hastily flipped open a notebook, his ballpoint scribbling over the pages.
“A few weeks after Christmas, Bon started asking me about the drug supplies for the surgery. Before I graduated as a dentist, I worked there overseeing our dental supplies, so I knew all the suppliers and had lots of contacts in similar fields. Then he asked if he could have some work experience in the office. Dad was delighted and put him to work. At first I thought he was just being enthusiastic. But I caught him taking some of the dental anesthetic. He’d seen ketamine was part of the ingredients.”
“So, you’re saying that Bon stole supplies from the surgery? Or did you help him obtain the ketamine through your contacts?” Bex pressed him to continue.
“I’m not confirming or denying any such thing. All I’m telling you, detectives, is that Clara is the one who put pressure on Bon. Bon had never used drugs and never would.”
“So, you’re saying that Bon supplied Clara’s ketamine habit, but that he didn’t use it himself?”
“I’m not confirming or denying that Bon supplied her with ketamine. I just want you to know that Clara was the one who wanted the drugs.”
“But what about his phone? We’ve got evidence of drug deals happening, supplying ketamine to numerous individuals.”
Phillip shook his head, his brows drawn in a straight, perplexed line. “That’s impossible. Why would Bon deal drugs? He didn’t need the money, our parents gave him everything and anything he wanted.”
Bex exchanged a glance with Eli who raised his shoulders slightly, as baffled as Bex.
“Alright, Mr Galliers. We’ll leave the questions for now. Thank you for your time.”
* * *
Eli drove back to New Scotland Yard at a comfortable pace, never exceeding the speed limit, munching all the while on a stick of nicotine gum. “Mind if we stop and grab a burger?” he asked Bex. “I didn’t get a chance to have lunch.” He slid her a sideways look as though testing her reaction. “Not that I’m complaining about the long hours, boss. It’s a rare pleasure to get to work just one case at a time,” he said in a voice that she couldn’t decide was serious or sarcastic.
“But the pressure to get this case wrapped up is a bitch, I know,” Bex acknowledged.
She glanced at her watch. She still had to sum up their findings for Dresden before she fielded the press. “Still, food’s not a bad idea, but it’ll have to be a drive thru, Eli.” Her mouth was already salivating at the thought of hot, salty fries and a sesame-seeded bun.
Eli’s car was a mid-range family sedan. Bex noted sweaters and headphones dangling from the back seat pockets and fast food wrappers stuffed in the console. Like Eli, it looked like it had been around the block more than once. Still, Bex had cause to be glad about Eli’s longevity in the job. The grizzled warrior reminded her of her old partner, Walt, because he seemed to know everyone worth knowing in Forensics and IT. Reports had been returned at dizzying speeds that would impress even Dresden, Bex hoped.
“Well, if you listen to Reuben the pressure in this job isn’t a patch on being an estate agent when property sales are in a slump.” Eli grunted out a half-chuckle. “And here I was thinking it was working twenty-four-seven that ruined my first marriage.”
“Well, I’m sure it wasn’t because of your lovable nature.”
He shook his grizzled head, barking out a laugh. “Just wait till you’re married, with kids in private school and an ever increasing mortgage, then tell me what you think ruins a second marriage.”
Bex knew he was giving her an opening to disclose her own history, but she wasn’t ready yet.
“Do you think Phil Galliers is telling the truth about Bon? That he didn’t take drugs? It’s the ruin of so many kids these days. I worry about my own girls now that they’re hitting puberty.” Eli filled the silence, keeping his eyes trained on the cars in front or flicking to his rearview mirror, never turning in her direction.
“I was just wondering the same thing.” Bex was relieved he’d shifted the conversation back to work. “Phil Galliers certainly seemed genuine. But people who can lie while looking you straight in the eye are not as rare as you think. If Bon was dealing drugs, that’s something the Galliers family wouldn’t want made public because it would be a blow to Charles Galliers’ public career.”
“Even if Bon was involved in drugs, their minders will spin the story until there’s not a dry eye for old man Galliers. Lost a son, boo hoo. Son was struggling with drug issues, boo hoo. That type slip out of shit like a snake shedding skin. Still, nothing Phillip said changes the fact that the messages on the phone Quinn retrieved from Bon’s glove compartment are pretty damning evidence that he was arranging drug deals.”
Chapter 21
Thursday 6 July
Once the elevator deposited Bex on the third story, she moved swiftly to cross the floor towards the area that had been allocated to the Youth Crimes Team. Idris’ bulky shoulders were hunched over one of the computers while Quinn lounged back in the black office chair, the legs of the heavy duty base spread like a five-legged spider beneath him. Eli had gone to check up on Reuben who was still with IT going through CCTV footage from the phone store.
Idris filled her in on the interview with Jemma Winship. Afterwards Quinn gave a surly rundown of his interview with Stacey Palmer and Tenby Bradshawe-Culpepper.
“None of the evidence slates Bon being part of a terrorist group. I think it’s safe to say the evidence points to this being a personal crime.” Bex was mentally organizing points for her breakdown with Dresden.
As she finished presenting Phillip’s statement, Reuben and Eli rejoined them. Eli held his “Keep calm and call a policeman” mug in one hand, Reuben held aloft a flash drive which he wiggled in front of their noses before slotting it into his computer.
“While doing the impossible is all in a day’s work for moi, there’s no need to be stingy with the applause. And yes, gratuities will be accepted.”
“Show us what you found, Reuben,” Bex said over a smattering of groans.
“I’ve pinpointed the moment the phone was purchased: 2:38 p.m. on April 8.”
An image of the store interior sprang up on the screen. He hit one of the keys. The footage paused on the image of two girls standing by an S-shaped counter with a glass frontage glowing with LED lights that looked more suitable for a spaceship.
Bex recognized Clara Butterworth.
“That’s Jemma Winship with Clara,” Idris identified the other girl.
A sales clerk hove into view, a phone nestled in his outstretched palm.
“How well can we zoom in on the phone?” Bex asked.
Reuben, squeezed in beside Eli, let his fingers fly over the keyboard, targeting and enlarging the vision. It was the same model as the one currently in police possession. As the image resumed movement they could see money change hands between Clara and the clerk.
“Store records show this particular phone was purchased for cash along with a prepaid SIM. The phone secured from Bon’s car shows the first texts were sent on April 12. I’ve scoured the CCTV footage from the twelfth, backwards as far as March. There’s no
sign of Bon entering the store, let alone making any purchases. This has got to be where the phone originated.”
When Reuben and Eli sat back and looked up at them, Bex ran a hand distractedly through her hair, smoothing the strands into the nape of her neck. Her lack of hair still took her by surprise sometimes.
“It seems Miss Clara Butterworth has watched enough police drama to know how to obtain a burner phone so her illegal activities wouldn’t be traced to her personal number,” Eli said.
“Damn it, we’ve been looking at this situation all wrong,” Quinn announced, his voice grim and his eyes hard as granite. Bex recognized the look. He was beating himself up because he’d made the wrong assumption.
“Because the phone was in Bon’s car, I assumed it was his. But Jemma Winship said that Bon took a phone from Clara last Wednesday when he was arguing with her. It must have been this phone, not her own phone, that she had in her hand. That would tie in with Clara’s English teacher’s comments that she started receiving lots of text messages and her popularity improved. Dealing drugs tends to do that for a person.”
Bex nodded her head in agreement. “We did the same thing with the locket. Evie Butterworth said that Clara demanded her property back from Bon when she saw him drive past the cinema. We all assumed it was the locket we found in Bon’s bathroom with Clara’s initials. But Jemma stated that Clara gave her the locket, so it was Jemma’s property not Clara’s. It now seems likely that what Clara was referring to was the burner phone.”
“It makes sense we thought the phone was Bon’s because of those threatening texts to Clara’s personal number,” Reuben said.
“But if Bon only grabbed the phone off Clara last Wednesday, that accounts for why those threatening messages only started then. He must have been able to guess her password to unlock the phone,” Bex pointed out.
“Not hard since it was set to ‘1111’,” Eli confirmed, taking a slurp from his mug.
Bex Wynter Box Set Page 12
