The Retirement Party

by Graham Miller

  'There is one thing we need to clear up,' DS Jones said. 'We've been through your file to see if you'd work with us. Your next of kin address is an aunt in Nottinghamshire, small village.' DC Angel nodded, wondering if Michelle could read minds. 'Yet you went to school in Nottingham itself. Must be a good twenty-five, thirty miles from your aunt's house. No address on record for your parents either.'

  DC Angel noted that there wasn't a question, just an open statement of a gap in her file. The silence stretched and as it did DC Angel got more annoyed. 'You don't get to treat me like a suspect! What do you want me to be? On your side or investigated by you? Cos I won't work with people who go sneaking around digging back into my past. I take it you've already been through all my police records?' Jones nodded and Angel continued. 'So you know I have a good record. I always play it straight. But if you want me to work with you, then you've got to play me straight.'

  'You still haven't answered the question.'

  Angel sighed and looked up at the ceiling. There hadn't been a direct question, but she wasn't about to point that out. 'I had a big falling out with my parents when I was doing my GCSEs. Typical teenager stuff, hormones and exam stress. So, I moved in with my aunt. Sometimes if I had a late class or an early start, I stayed in Nottingham, kipping on friends' sofas, other times she gave me a lift in as she worked part-time in the city. There's no big mystery.'

  Michelle Jones nodded soberly. 'I'm sorry for the intrusion. But you're going to be in a stressful situation. And we want to make sure that no one has any leverage over you.'

  'You don't need to worry. Once I've figured out what it is, I always do the right thing.'

  'That's what we're hoping for.' Without another word, she stood up. 'I've taken up enough of your time. You have my number. Anything you think I ought to know, drop me a text.'

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  The mood in the MIT was very low – they knew that they'd messed up. DC Angel was sat at her desk, reading through the case file for what felt like the twentieth time. The pathologist was as certain as she could be that both attacks were the work of one person. The only slight difference was that this time the mark across the neck was slightly sharper. This might have been due to the body being discovered sooner or the attacker might have escalated and started using a weapon.

  It was always depressing how the official reports reduced such a traumatic event down to a series of technical details. Angel knew that not only had Stella Evans lost her life, but that her death would reverberate through her family and friends for years to come. She tried unsuccessfully to avoid wondering if it was all her fault. Could she have been pushier? Might she have persuaded Haines to listen to her concerns that the WankyBois were not killers?

  As if summoned by her thoughts, her boss barged into the open-plan area and went straight to his office without a sideways glance. This was her chance not to repeat the mistakes of the first investigation. She waited until Haines was settled before she went to talk to him.

  'DC Angel. What's up?'

  'I've got a couple of leads on the murders.' She sat down opposite him.

  'Really? I thought we were at a dead end.'

  DC Angel quickly brought him up to speed on both Gregory Watts and the Dark Car Man.

  'How long have you know about these two leads? Are they in the system?' DCI Haines was annoyed at being out of the loop.

  'Dark Car Man is. I only heard about Gregory Watts last night.' Angel immediately went on the defensive. She'd done the right thing by bringing this to Haines. 'They were both just information received. And until the weekend, the team had settled on the WankyBois as the main suspects. We were stretched thin with the multi-disciplinary operation so there didn't seem any point in chasing them.'

  'The point, DC Angel, is that we're a team.' Haines emphasised the words carefully. 'Now I know that you came highly recommended – fast track application, university degree, all that – but it doesn't count for anything if you can't work with other people.' There was a resentful silence from Angel. 'You just need to keep me in the loop. Even if you're not spending a lot of time on these things, I still need to know. They need to be on the system and you need to let us know so other people can pick them up and contribute their experience too.'

  'I'm sorry.' DC Angel bit her lip and tried not to add a "but" to her apology.

  'Water under the bridge. What do you want to do now?'

  'We can have a look at this Gregory Watts character and start to hit the CCTV on both crimes to see if any car matching the DCM turns up.'

  'I thought they were in CCTV black spots?'

  'The crimes were, but if the car was involved, it would have to travel there and back. The streets around each scene must have cameras and we're fairly tight on both times of death. If we get one number plate it could give us another suspect.'

  'Okay, but prioritise Watts.' Haines knew he had to take charge of someone like Angel. 'Someone driving a dark coloured family car made by Ford near a crime scene at about the right time is too vague for my liking.'

  DC Angel nodded and left the office. She didn't agree with her boss but kept that to herself. Someone was driving around terrorising young girls in Bradwick. Surely it was logical that he could escalate to actual violence?

  Still, his words about being a team player had stung, so she spent the rest of the morning writing up what she had learned about Gregory Watts. When she'd completed that task, a thought struck her. What if Dark Car Man and Watts were the same person? They both seemed obsessed with teenage girls.

  She had already checked and found that Watts wasn't on the Police National Computer. Now she went through to the DVLA system and looked him up. He was only down as owning one car – a two-year-old white Mercedes. All his previous cars were similar and none of them even vaguely resembled a dark Ford Fiesta or Focus. He was not someone who drove family hatchbacks. She sighed, realising that life was never that easy. Finding Dark Car Man would be a slog.

  Armed with his name and address, she went to check the electoral roll and found that Gregory Watts was listed there as well, together with an Amanda Goode.

  With no other sources to go on, she decided to hit up Google instead. Unsurprisingly, Watts had quite a large online presence. It wasn't one hundred per cent clear what he was doing, or selling for a living, but he had a website offering his services as a consultant, working with estate agents among other businesses. She looked at the photo, trying to get an idea of what he would be like in person.

  He was tanned, with high cheekbones, cropped black hair, and piercing blue eyes. Conventionally he was very handsome but there was something about the photo that was disturbing. The picture was professional and he obviously knew how to pose to look his best. She mentally tagged him as someone who would be image obsessed, spending all his time down the gym.

  She moved away from the photo and went through the rest of the website. He had several estate agents listed as clients, which rang alarm bells with Angel.

  She flicked through the files and found that Stella Evans was a receptionist at an estate agent that Watts had worked for. Could their paths have crossed somewhere? There was a simple way to check if Lukas was right, and in the process she could prove she was a team player.

  She walked over to Haines' office and stood in the doorway. 'Boss, do you still have the school secretary on speed dial?'

  'Not exactly, but I can call her. What do you need?'

  'I've got one Amanda Goode who seems to be living with our Gregory Watts.'

  'Right, and you want to see if he's chasing schoolgirls or not?'

  'As usual, sir, exactly right if not totally politically correct.'

  He gave her a grin that meant he knew what he was doing. 'Yeah, okay, leave it with me. I'll see exactly how young she is.'

  'This will be interesting. I've run him through DVLA and the electoral roll and he's thirty-two.'

  There was nothing to say after that so DC Angel went back to her desk to plan her stra
tegy for interviewing Watts. His online presence suggested he was confident and she knew she wouldn't be able to go in there and start throwing accusations around. On the other hand, it did look as if all the evidence was that he had an unhealthy interest in schoolgirls.

  She decided to mull over that problem while tackling the other one. She grabbed an old paper street map of Bradwick and called up the computerised map of the CCTV network covering the town.

  While both crimes had taken place in black spots, she found some cameras on the surrounding roads. She carefully worked out which direction a car would have to travel in in order to go past each crime scene.

  Eventually she ended up with three red dots around each crime scene. Carefully, she noted down the numbers of the cameras and called them through to the CCTV control centre. Using DCI Haines' name and the MIT she extracted a promise that the video files would be sent over as soon as possible.

  It was only when she put down the phone that she realised she'd asked for six thirty-minute-long videos – she had just let herself in for watching three hours of tape.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  DC Angel had serious misgivings when she pulled up outside the home of Gregory Watts. She was accompanied by DS Stonor who was his usual dour self. She knew they were on very thin ice and would be relying on Watts' good humour.

  His house was on the outskirts of Bradwick – not the top echelon houses that overlooked the sea, but definitely an up and coming, nice area. She noticed the Mercedes on the drive. With a movement that would become a habit, she looked up and down the road for a dark Fiesta.

  'You going to do the interview or stand here gawping up and down the road?' Stonor was still frosty.

  'I'm gathering intelligence,' Angel said airily. 'If he has an unregistered Fiesta it might be parked around here somewhere.'

  'You think Watts is Dark Car Man?'

  'He might be. He certainly has a seventeen-year-old living with him even though he's thirty-two.' She felt like needling him a bit. 'Shall we go and find out?'

  Gregory Watts opened the door and when they explained who they were, frowned. 'Is everything okay?'

  'Yes, Mr Watts. We just need to ask you a few questions. Do you mind if we come in?'

  'Of course, always willing to help the police. Can I offer you a coffee?'

  They followed him into the house, DC Angel taking in all the details. It was a lovely house, expensively decorated. And, as if he'd been created to match, Watts was perfectly turned out. Razor sharp creases in his trousers and a soft blue shirt that hung perfectly on his frame.

  DC Angel had a trick to restore her confidence in situations like this. She looked for the flaw. No one was perfect – they always had something, somewhere. As they went through to the kitchen, she surreptitiously watched him. He had cut himself shaving, two tiny red lines on his jaw. Whenever it got too much, she could focus on that.

  Soon they were seated around an island in a large kitchen with coffee from one of those machines with the little capsules. Gregory Watts took delight in being able to provide any variation of coffee that a visitor might ask for.

  'So, you do work for estate agents?' Angel opened the questioning.

  'Yes. Mainly taking photographs and writing up the descriptions. I used to work for them full time but recently I've started doing it on a freelance basis. The advantage is that I can take jobs when the agents are too busy and fill in with work for the new online agencies in between times.' He turned round to perch on the worktop. DC Angel guessed that he was aware that he was perfectly lit from the window to show off his cheekbones. 'You see, people go on these new sites like Purple Bricks and the like and they think that it's easy. But, if you get a professional like me to take the photographs, draft the description, well you can add thousands on to the price. Pays for itself really.'

  'You know Hayes in town?' DC Angel was aware that she'd cut across him, but Watts was almost lecturing them so he didn't notice. 'Did you ever work with them?'

  'Hayes. Of course. I have good contacts with all the local agencies.' He paused and a frown passed across his face. DC Angel thought that he was acting. He was also talking directly to DS Stonor. 'Oh no. It's not that case I saw on the news is it? That poor girl?'

  Before DC Angel could answer, they were joined in the kitchen by a woman. She was short, with long dark hair. DC Angel presumed she was the seventeen-year-old Amanda Goode, but she didn't look it. Her hair was swept back with a simple headband and she had a plain T-shirt over leggings. Angel frowned because she was sure that her loose T-shirt was hiding the bump of pregnancy. Her face was round, without make-up but still with traces of puppy fat. She was the age where you could see the adult features just starting to break through.

  'Mandy! Are you all right?' Gregory Watts strode across the kitchen to stand between his visitors and the young woman.

  'May I have a glass of water, please?' Even her voice was childlike.

  'Well, be quick. This is the police and you shouldn't be worrying in your condition. I'll call for you when we're done.'

  Stonor and Angel silently watched her get a glass of water and then depart. While Gregory Watts had his back turned, seeing Mandy out of the room, they glanced at each other. With a shake of her head, DC Angel indicated that they shouldn't reveal to Watts that they'd already investigated enough to know the name of his partner.

  'Right. Sorry about that. Where were we?' His usual smile and calm, confident demeanour was switched back on.

  DC Angel wanted to take control of the conversation. 'We're just trying to establish your connection with the estate agent. You said you worked with Hayes. Did you ever have any contact with Stella Evans?'

  'Evans?' He looked out of the window with a theatrical gesture. 'Was she a receptionist or something? I might have spoken to her once or twice. Making appointments and the like.'

  'Was that the extent of your relationship with her?'

  'As far as I'm aware.' He sounded tetchy at being questioned so closely and looked to DS Stonor for support.

  'Okay. Where were you last Friday evening?' Watts looked shocked so DC Angel decided to soften the blow. 'It's just routine, trying to see who was where and when.'

  'Well, I'd have to get my diary. Stay here for one moment.'

  Angel and Stonor found themselves stranded in his kitchen. Angel sipped her coffee and reluctantly realised that it was very good. She looked at Stonor but couldn't tell what he was thinking. Watts was a bit creepy and controlling but Stonor looked completely at ease. He ran his hand over the black marble worktop and experimentally opened a drawer. When he touched it, it slid shut with a soft-close mechanism. She didn't want to say anything in case Watts overheard from wherever he'd just gone. Was she sitting in the kitchen of a predatory paedophile? Did he restrain himself and deliberately choose sixteen-year-olds to satisfy his urges while staying within the law? A shiver ran down her spine as she contemplated how dangerous he could be.

  'Here we go!' Watts breezed back into the room holding an old-fashioned diary, black with brass corners. 'If I don't write it in this diary, then it doesn't happen.' He lay it down in front of DS Stonor and stood next to him so they could both look at it. He ran a finger down the page. 'Ah. That evening I was out at a lovely house just to the north of Bradwick. On a slight rise, quarter of an acre. I was looking at the light to take some photos. It has these fabulous views, right across the estuary. You can see Wales on a clear day.' For just a second, he caught the expressions on their faces. 'Anyway, I was there for over an hour. I wanted to see what the sunset would be like for the photos. It's that kind of attention to detail that builds my business.'

  'Right. That does cover the timeline.' DC Angel decided to reach a bit. 'And the owners of this house, we could check with them?'

  'I'm afraid not. You can't contact them. My business is built on reputation and reputation is built on trust. If word got out that I was somehow involved, however tangentially in a murder enquiry, then no one would want m
e to sell their house.'

  Stonor shot Angel a warning look – they were on thin ice. She picked up on it and said, 'That won't be necessary then. I think we have all we need.' She put down her coffee cup and looked at the door. Watts picked up the hint and soon they were back in their car, driving away.

  'Well, that was fun.' Back in the car, Stonor was as deadpan as ever. 'I'm not entirely sure what we have learned though.'

  'Well, he's creepy and very controlling. Didn't like to be challenged. And he was speaking far more to you than he was to me. Even when I was asking the questions.'

  'But you can't nick someone for that. Hell, you probably couldn't even do them for harassment if that happened in an office.'

  DC Angel shot him a look – it was a strange thing to say. 'What about Mandy though? We know she's seventeen, but she's clearly pregnant and looks like a schoolchild.'

  'Yeah, but again there's nothing illegal there. Over the age of consent.' He paused to choose his next words carefully. 'Besides, look at it from her point of view. If she's from Bradwick High, well she might not have come from a good area. A lot of teenagers want kids, and she's got a good-looking man, lovely kitchen, all the latest gadgets, nice big house. There's every chance that it's exactly what she wants.'

  DC Angel had no answer to this. She wanted to scream at Stonor that buying someone a Nespresso machine doesn't give you the right to own them like a slave. But she knew that she would sound irrational. On the surface Gavin Watts had been polite, charming, and had answered all their questions. But her gut feeling was that something was badly wrong.

  She took a deep breath. 'So, to you, nothing about that interview seemed a bit off?'

  'No, not really,' DS Stonor said.

  'Not even when I'm asking the questions and he's answering to you? I was being cut out of the conversation.'

  'But I was the ranking officer in the interview. Maybe he just picked up on our ranks when we introduced ourselves.'

  'I just wish there was a way to nick him for something,' DC Angel said. She could hear the dissatisfaction in her own voice and hated it.