Deadly Intent

by D. S. Butler

  When he walked into the reception area, he saw Sarah straightaway. She stood by the desk, scowling and looking miserable.

  He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen her smile, and he softened a bit. It was easy to focus on how the situation with Sarah and her mother was affecting his life and making things uncomfortable for him. There had to be a reason for her bad temper and moods. Perhaps if he tried to be a little more understanding…

  “Hi,” Mackinnon said, fighting the urge to demand to know where she’d been and why she’d put her mother through so much worry. “This is a surprise.”

  Sarah folded her arms over her chest and looked at him stonily. “Yes, I had nowhere else to go.”

  “Is something wrong?”

  “I need money.”

  Mackinnon’s heart sank.

  He pulled out his mobile phone. “Have you spoken to your mother?”

  Sarah shook her head. “No, and I don’t intend to. She’s being completely unreasonable.”

  “Well, I know she’s worried, so I’m just going to send a quick text message to tell her you’re safe and you’re here.”

  Sarah’s features tightened. She looked irritated, but she didn’t try to stop him sending the message.

  “Now, what do you need the money for?”

  “I just owe somebody some money and I haven’t got any.”

  “How much do you need?” Mackinnon asked, trying to remember how much he had in his wallet. He was pretty sure he had forty quid and change, but knowing Sarah, that wouldn’t be enough.

  “A thousand.”

  He’d expected it to be more than forty, but still, a thousand pounds? What could she possibly need that for? She’d been living at home rent-free, and Chloe paid for all her food and day-to-day necessities.

  “That’s too much, Sarah. I can’t get my hands on that kind of money quickly, and even if I could, I’m not sure it’s a good idea to give you the money.”

  “Not a good idea?”

  Mackinnon sighed. “Why do you need so much money?”

  “I told you. I owe a friend.”

  “A friend?”

  “Yes, they bailed me out a few times and now I need to pay them back.”

  “But borrowing from someone else to pay off another loan isn’t helping. You need to get a job, earn some money and then pay your friend back.”

  Sarah rolled her eyes as though he was being completely unreasonable.

  “Are you going to help me or not?”

  “Tell me, are you in any trouble? If you are, you can tell me.”

  “No, I’m fine. I’m not a child.”

  “Right.” Mackinnon was very tempted to say she might not be a child but she was definitely acting like one.

  “So I guess that’s a no then?”

  “I can’t get that much money in a day.”

  “Then get two hundred and fifty from the cashpoint. I’ll wait.”

  Mackinnon reached for his wallet and then stopped. “No, Sarah. This is your debt, and you need to pay it off yourself. If you’re scared of the person who lent you the money then you need to tell me.”

  “I don’t need to do anything. I told you I’m not scared of them. They’re just a friend.”

  “Then the answer is no.”

  She stared at him with such animosity he was at a loss. Did she really expect him to just hand over a thousand pounds?

  Then without a word, she spun around and stalked out of the station.

  Mackinnon walked after her but paused on the stone steps as Sarah crossed the road. She got into a red Corsa that had seen better days. Two of the hubcaps had fallen off and there was a large dent in the bodywork on the passenger side.

  He couldn’t make out the driver, but he made a mental note of the licence plate before they drove off.

  He turned around and walked back into the station and caught the eye of Bob behind the desk.

  Bob whistled through his teeth. “Kids, eh? Who’d have ’em?”

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Mackinnon went back upstairs feeling very uneasy. He would have to tell Chloe that Sarah was asking for money again, but perhaps that was a conversation they should have in person. Sarah said she wasn’t afraid and didn’t appear to be in immediate trouble.

  He sat down at his computer and searched for the licence plate number of the red Corsa. According to the DVLA’s records it was owned by a man called Robin Courtney, of 17, Marigold Plaza, Hackney. Date of birth, the twenty-seventh of May, 1980. That made him a lot older than Sarah.

  Had Courtney been driving the car? Mackinnon hadn’t been able to get a good look at the driver.

  The image they had on file for Robin Courtney showed a man with a long, narrow face, messy brown hair and a squint that made it look as though he distrusted the photographer.

  If it had been Courtney driving, how did Sarah know him? From university? Was he a mature student?

  Mackinnon paused only for a moment before opening a new screen and searching the police database for Robin Courtney.

  What he saw made his stomach churn.

  Courtney had been arrested and charged for an assault four years ago.

  Mackinnon scanned the details. It had been an incident outside a nightclub, and Robin had been given a suspended sentence.

  As he scrolled down the screen his worst fears were realised. Courtney had been arrested for drug dealing three times. Once in 1999 and twice in 2009.

  Was that how he knew Sarah? Was it possible she was taking drugs? That would certainly explain her mood swings and her need for money.

  For a long moment Mackinnon just stared at the computer screen. He was going to have to talk to Chloe about this. Would he get a chance to get back to Oxford tonight? This couldn’t wait until tomorrow. He’d have to make time.

  He glanced at his watch. He only had a few more minutes before he needed to leave the station and head to Mile End to talk to the owners of the properties that had been infested with bedbugs. Perhaps he’d be able to get away late tonight and then come back to London early tomorrow morning.

  If he drove, he could leave at five a.m. and even if the traffic was terrible, he’d still be back for work at a reasonable time.

  “Everything okay, Jack?”

  Mackinnon turned to see Charlotte looking at him from her desk. “You look lost in thought.”

  Mackinnon sighed. So they wouldn’t be overheard, he got up and walked over to her desk.

  He sat down. “It’s Sarah. She just visited the station to ask me for money.”

  “Oh?” Charlotte didn’t say any more, but she didn’t need to. Mackinnon was well aware Charlotte thought Sarah could be selfish and self-centred at times.

  “I said no, but when she left, she got into a car. I checked and it’s owned by a man called Robin Courtney, a known drug dealer.”

  “That’s not good. Have you told Chloe?”

  “Not yet. I’ll go back to Oxford tonight and talk to her. It’s not something I want to tell her over the phone.”

  “I can understand that. Do you have any reason to believe Sarah’s taking drugs?”

  “I haven’t seen her that much recently, but when I do, she is miserable, lashes out for no reason and is difficult to live with. Now she’s asking for money.”

  Charlotte frowned. “I don’t know, Jack. I know Sarah has been difficult in the past, but why would she take drugs after what happened to her friend?”

  Charlotte was referring to an incident a few years ago when Sarah’s friend had overdosed on contaminated heroin. She’d been distraught.

  “I don’t know for sure. The only thing I am sure of is that Chloe should know about it.”

  Charlotte nodded. “You’re right. She should.”

  Charlotte’s computer pinged with an incoming email. She turned to look at the screen. “Sorry, that’s the digital copy of the private messages and posts from the forum. There are loads of them, so I’d better make a start. But if you need anything,
just ask.”

  Mackinnon smiled. “Thanks. Hopefully it’ll turn out to be a false alarm.”

  Mackinnon got to his feet as Tyler and Collins walked into the office area.

  “Before you go, Jack,” DI Tyler said. “We’ve had a development.”

  Tyler and Collins wheeled over chairs, and Mackinnon sat down again.

  “Julie Holt came to the station to report this disappearance of her sister yesterday,” Tyler said. “The missing woman’s name is Tammy Holt. Collins has done a tremendous job finding out that Tammy was using the same forum as Ashley – cureityourself. Julie also told him her sister was going to meet a man she’d met on the forum called Brendan. This could be it. This could be the same person who took Ashley. If so, Tammy’s life could be in danger and we need to act fast.”

  Mackinnon felt a jolt of adrenaline. Tyler was right. This could be the breakthrough they needed. “Do we know anything else about Brendan yet?”

  “Not much,” Collins said. “I’m going to speak with Tammy and Julie’s mother. The dad isn’t on the scene. Julie hasn’t seen him since she was a kid. I’m taking a search team with me to go over Tammy’s bedroom and bring back her laptop for analysis.”

  “So this helps me narrow things down,” Charlotte said. “I need to look through the forum messages to see if Ashley communicated with somebody called Brendan.”

  “Exactly,” Tyler said. “We need to get on this quickly.”

  “What do you need me to do?” Mackinnon asked. “I was going to follow up on the bedbug cases today.”

  “I still think you could be onto something there,” Tyler said. “You go ahead with that this afternoon. Collins will follow up with Tammy’s family, and Charlotte can search the forum posts. DC Webb will be looking at social media to see if we can find a link between Tammy, Ashley and a man called Brendan. Of course, we can’t get carried away. Brendan may not be his real name. But if we can find the messages and link him to a Facebook profile or IP address, I think we have a good chance of nailing him.”

  Mackinnon nodded. “I hope so.”

  “Right,” DI Tyler said getting to his feet and loosening his tie. “I’m going to speak to Kate Squires and see if the Burrowses know anyone called Brendan.” He smiled. “I have a good feeling about this.” He slapped Collins on the back. “Good job, mate. You’ve redeemed yourself after the CCTV disaster.”

  Collins winced and flushed red. DI Tyler was never subtle.

  Mackinnon was preparing to leave when he got another call from the Desk Sergeant telling him he had a visitor. This time, it was Sadie Griffith.

  He asked for her to be shown upstairs to interview room two.

  Fidgeting nervously, she shifted in her seat as Mackinnon entered the room.

  “I understand you have something to tell me, Sadie,” Mackinnon said, taking the seat opposite her.

  Her eyes were wide as she nodded. “That’s right. I’ve come to confess.”

  “Okay.” Mackinnon found it hard to hide his surprise. Surely she wasn’t going to confess to Ashley’s murder? He’d suspected they were rivals because he knew from Ashley’s diary that she suspected Sadie of having a crush on Noah.

  “I’ve done something really stupid, but you have to believe me. I didn’t harm Ashley. We were friends, but everything has grown so complicated.” She put her head in her hands.

  “Let’s start at the beginning,” Mackinnon said. “If you haven’t done anything wrong, Sadie, you don’t have anything to worry about.”

  “But that’s just it. I have done something wrong.” She began to cry.

  “Tell me about it, I might be able to help.”

  She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. Sniffing, she said, “I took some pages from Ashley’s diary because I didn’t want anyone finding out that I had a relationship with Noah Thorne.”

  “I see.” He paused, not wanting to ask more questions until he was sure she had nothing more to tell him.

  “I’m sorry, I panicked and burnt the pages so I can’t show you them. The thing is, Ashley was angry with me for getting together with Noah. I thought things were completely over between them, but she told me I was going against some kind of girl code. She was probably right, but I really fell for him. And Ashley… she was gorgeous, you know. She never had any problems attracting blokes, so I couldn’t understand why she wasn’t happy for me. Her constant warnings about Noah being controlling were really over the top, and I’m sure she was saying it just to break us up.” She looked up at Mackinnon through wet eyelashes. “I love him.”

  “Does Noah feel the same?”

  She hesitated, then said, “Yes, I’m sure he does. I mean, with everything going on he hasn’t been in touch, but that’s understandable, isn’t it? He’s probably trying to protect me.”

  As Mackinnon asked more questions, the whole story came out. Sadie and Noah had a fling, and when Ashley discovered their relationship, she’d tried to warn Sadie. Whether that was through jealousy, or genuine concern for her friend, it was hard to say.

  The only thing Mackinnon knew for sure was that Noah hadn’t wanted this to come to light during the investigation. To his irritation, he realised they’d been following the wrong trail.

  Ashley already knew about the affair, so there was no reason for either of them to kill her. Sadie or Noah could have wanted her out of the way, perhaps. But the likelihood of either of them abducting Ashley and keeping her captive over this was low.

  “Noah didn’t mention your relationship to us when we questioned him,” Mackinnon said.

  Sadie blinked and then her lower lip wobbled. “No, I thought he was looking out for me, but now I’m starting to realise he didn’t really care about me, at all. He hasn’t answered any of my phone calls.”

  Her face crumpled. “I’ve been such an idiot, and Ashley was really kind to me. I just got swept away by the whole idea, but she was right. He was just using me to make her jealous. I’m such an idiot.”

  “I don’t think you’re an idiot, Sadie, but you have made some bad choices. Perhaps Ashley was right. Maybe you’re better off steering clear of Noah Thorne.”

  Sadie nodded and dabbed her eyes with a tissue.

  He felt sorry for her but also irritated in equal measure that this hidden relationship had acted as a smokescreen to cover the real motive for Ashley’s murder.

  His gut instinct told him Noah Thorne had been hiding something, but if he’d only been concealing his secret relationship with Sadie, then they’d been wasting their time on the wrong suspect.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Mackinnon made his way to Mansion House underground station, keeping to the shaded side of the road.

  He walked swiftly past groups of tourists, who strolled slowly, dawdling along, wearing lightweight T-shirts and flip-flops. Mackinnon hoped they’d brought raincoats and proper footwear too. They’d probably need warmer clothes in a few days, knowing the English weather.

  The traffic was normally slow-moving in the area, but today it was worse than usual. Things had been brought to a standstill by a red double-decker bus struggling to pass a section of road that had been narrowed by roadworks. The driver of a black cab sounded his horn in frustration.

  As he approached the entrance to the station, Mackinnon’s mobile rang. Standing aside so as not to block the stairway, Mackinnon pulled out his phone.

  It was DI Tyler.

  “You just caught me,” Mackinnon said. I was about to head down into the sweaty misery that is the London Underground.”

  Normally, he found the underground convenient, but in this weather, it was close to unbearable.

  “Sorry, Jack. There’s been a change of plan. I need you to call into the Costa Coffee shop in Whitechapel first. They still have CCTV from the day Tammy Holt went missing. If we can get an image of Tammy and Brendan together…well, I don’t need to tell you how important that could be.”

  Mackinnon glanced at his watch. He hated being late for appointments
. He’d never make it to Whitechapel and then back in time for his appointment with each of the bedbug cases.

  But Tyler was right. This was their chance to get an image of their main suspect. Everything else would have to take a back seat.

  “Okay, I can do that. I’ll phone ahead and tell the Mackenzies and the Saddlers, that I’ll be late.”

  “Thanks, Jack. Appreciate it. Collins was going to go himself, but he’s gone to speak to Tammy’s mother.”

  “Not a problem. Do we know for sure the coffee shop kept the CCTV?” Mackinnon asked. He’d been stung in the past when vital evidence had been wiped or recorded over.

  “Yes, it’s their internal system. I’ve checked with them, and they keep the footage for fourteen days. There’s a camera set up right behind the counter, which should give a good view. I’ve already spoken to the manager. His name is Victor. He knows the date and time you need, so I hope he’ll have it all set up ready for you when you get there.”

  “All right. I’ll head there now and let you know how I get on.”

  “Thanks. I’m emailing you a couple of shots of Tammy we got from her sister, so you’ll recognise her on the CCTV. Let me know as soon as you get an image of Brendan.”

  “Will do.” Mackinnon hung up.

  Before heading down the steps, Mackinnon waited for his email to refresh. He wouldn’t have a signal on the Underground and wanted to get the images of Tammy before he walked down into the subterranean oven.

  When the emails came through, he put the phone back in his pocket and headed down out of the bright sunshine and into the hot, stale air.

  Once he was on the Upminster-bound District Line train, he opened the images of Tammy. They were clear, close-up pictures. Some looked like selfies. She appeared younger than twenty-three. Her long, light brown hair softly waved around her face. She had soft hazel eyes and dimples when she smiled.

  Staring down at Tammy’s smiling face, Mackinnon could only hope they weren’t too late to save her.