Their Fatal Secrets

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Their Fatal Secrets Page 19

by JANICE FROST


  “You mean Barney was in love with her?” PJ said.

  Ava nodded. “What if Jonty kidnapped Jess not because he was afraid Leanne had been in touch with her, but because he had feelings for her?” Ava’s face lit up. “If that is the case, it makes it much more likely that Jess could still be alive.”

  Neal wondered if Ava was clutching at straws, but it didn’t feel like it. It was way out of the box, but wasn’t that exactly what he’d asked for?

  “We need to speak with CAMHS again, this time about Jonty Cole. It would be useful to have a professional’s input on the kind of mind we’re dealing with here.”

  “Sir,” Ava said. “I’d like permission to stay over at Barney’s place. If I’m right, Jonty’s taken Jess because he sees the three of them — himself, Jess and Barney — as a neat little family unit. He’ll come back for his brother. I can talk to Barney too. He might reveal something helpful if I gain his trust.”

  Neal deliberated. He was extremely reluctant to put his officers at risk. Particularly Ava, who had demonstrated in the past that she was prepared to cross a line if she thought it might get a result. He looked at her face. It was so full of hope for Jess that he didn’t really have a choice.

  “Alright,” he agreed at last. “But you take no unnecessary risks. Is that understood?”

  “Absolutely, sir,” replied Ava.

  “Let’s set it up,” Neal said. “Tom, contact that psychologist and get me a report on Jonty Cole.”

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Jess lay still. If it hadn’t been for the throbbing pain in her head, she might actually have dozed off, soothed by the boat’s rhythmic bobbing. Like the flow of a tidal river, her fear rose and fell. The sound of a car departing shortly after he left her caused an ebb, but with every hour that passed, a tsunami threatened.

  Jess thought of Leanne, sinking into the Strom, her final choking gasps as water replaced the remaining air in her lungs. It didn’t matter how good a swimmer you were. Even a strong swimmer like Ava Merry would succumb eventually. She’d read once that in the past, sailors preferred not to learn to swim. Better to go quickly than struggle against the inevitable. How long did it take to drown? Minutes?

  Despite her fear, Jess was angry. Who the hell did this man think he was, kidnapping her, tying her up and leaving her alone in the darkness with a head wound that might prove fatal?

  What would Ava Merry do in a situation like this? she wondered. She certainly wouldn’t lie around feeling sorry for herself.

  Jess twisted around on the mattress. The springs creaked and pinged. She felt around, seeking a tear in the fabric. After minutes of tortuous wriggling and shifting, her fingers slipped through a slit in the fabric and touched cold metal. Her heart leapt. She wrapped her fingers around a tuft of material and pulled.

  Fortunately it was a cheap mattress, inadequately padded. Ignoring her breaking nails, Jess ripped at the cloth until she could slip her fingers through and search for a sharp edge. At last she felt something jab her wrist and she began to saw her wrist ties backwards and forwards, until she felt them begin to loosen. After what seemed hours of yanking and pulling, Jess was rubbing her chafed and bleeding wrists. She tore off the gag, and then turned to her feet. In the dim light she had to grope and feel for the knots. Then she was free.

  She rubbed hard at her numb legs, and pushed up onto her knees. Like a fern, she uncurled slowly until she was upright.

  She swayed on her feet for a moment, fighting back nausea and dizziness, and then groped her way to the door. It was locked. Of course. But how sturdy could a door on a narrowboat be? Jess drew back one leg ready to kick. And froze, her leg in mid-air. The sound of a car engine was growing louder and closer. She stood like that for a moment, and then made up her mind. Whatever happened next, she would be better equipped to deal with it out of this confined space and in the light. She drove her foot hard against the door and it crumpled at once.

  There was no sudden dazzle of daylight. Jess had an impression of a long, narrow living space, curtained and dark. She crossed to a window and moved the curtain aside. The towpath was tantalisingly close but the car was already pulling up. There would be no time to get off the boat unseen. Jess looked around for a place to hide, something to use as a weapon.

  Her gaze fell on a block of kitchen knives and she grabbed the one with the largest handle. A bread knife. No good. The second largest had a serrated edge and a sharp, pointed blade. Perfect. Armed with the knife, Jess positioned herself behind a flimsy partition and waited.

  The boat listed to one side when the man stepped on board.

  She heard him shuffle, moving forward cautiously. Now he was in the room with her. She had an unbearable urge to peek around the partition. Was this even the same man? The thought struck her suddenly, and her heart soared.

  He wasn’t Mitch.

  She flattened herself against the partition and tightened her grip on the knife. He was close now, so close that Jess could hear him breathe. He stepped into view. Jess tensed, expecting him to sense her presence, spin around. But he walked right past the partition. His back was to her now. Leanne’s face flashed into her mind. She would never have a better chance.

  Chapter Twenty-five

  The supervisor, an Eastern European woman called Mariana, introduced Ava to the staff as, one by one, they arrived for their afternoon shift. She showed Ava around the assisted living facility, starting with the communal area, where residents could meet to socialise or prepare a snack. Only two residents were there, because, Mariana explained, most of the others worked or attended activities throughout the day. The communal area was open plan. Facing the entrance was a reception desk, where visitors had to report to gain access to the rest of the building.

  “They have to buzz to get into the building in the first place,” Mariana explained, pointing to the controlled entry door. She had seemed shocked when the police had turned up asking about Jonty Cole and insisting on searching his brother’s flat. Now that Ava had given her a little more information, Mariana seemed keen to help.

  “I steel cannot believe,” she said. “Jonty seem like such lovely person. We all love him here. Many of our residents, they never have visitors. Families stick them here and forget about them. Not so Jonty Cole. So devoted to his brother. Last night, first time he let Barney down. He was supposed to take Barney bowling. I didn’t know what to tell Barney when Jonty not turn up.”

  “It’s important that we don’t let Barney suspect anything,” Ava said. “We don’t want to alarm him. And we don’t want him to give anything away to Jonty if he turns up.”

  “Of course,” promised Mariana. She gave Ava a set of keys to Barney’s flat, and to an empty flat next door where she would be able to work. Neal had arranged a video conference to discuss what they had learned from the psychologist who had worked with Jonty Cole eight years ago.

  Barney’s flat was on the first floor. An L-shaped hallway led in one direction to a living room and kitchen area, in the other to a bedroom, and straight ahead to a bathroom.

  The walls of Barney’s bedroom were decorated with posters of his favourite football team, Manchester United. There was a picture of Jonty on his bedside table. The clothes in his wardrobe were arranged according to colour. The main living area had a wide flat-screen TV on the wall which, Mariana explained, had been installed by Jonty so that he and Barney could watch football and movies together. Barney also had a big collection of DVDs, mostly action movies. Ava’s eyes were drawn to a framed photograph of Barney and Jess on the windowsill. Barney was holding up a certificate. Presumably Jonty had taken the picture.

  Ava left Barney’s flat and let herself in next door. The flat was completely empty. She installed herself on the floor and took out her laptop ready for the meeting. The reception wasn’t brilliant but Ava could see all three of her colleagues, three giant heads filling the screen.

  “Hi, Ava!” PJ gave her a wave and Ava grinned back. Neal was looking stern
and Tom was looking down, presumably at his notes.

  “Hello, Ava,” Neal began. “Tom and PJ have had an interesting meeting with Dr Tobias Warren at CAMHS. I’ll let Tom fill you in.”

  Tom looked up. “Hi, Ava. So, Dr Warren remembered Jonty Cole. He’d read over his case notes before seeing us, although he did say that he would have remembered Cole in any case,” Tom paused, “because he was ‘such an intriguing personality,’ as the good doctor put it.”

  Like all the best psychos, Ava thought.

  Tom continued, “Jonty was referred to CAMHS after a particularly nasty incident involving two girls from his school. He basically laid into them right in the middle of the High Street after they called him and his brother names. He had to be dragged off them. Both required hospital treatment.”

  “Barney witnessed the assault?”

  Tom nodded. “Yeah. Actually, Barney got upset and had to be restrained by a couple of CSOs.”

  “What about criminal proceedings?” Ava asked. “Jonty must have been, what, fifteen, nearly sixteen?”

  “The girls didn’t press charges. Apparently they were notorious bullies. Jonty claimed he’d gone into meltdown because they’d targeted his disabled brother. He managed to convince everyone it was a one off, and that he was being protective. Dr Warren said that sometimes kids with a disabled sibling bottle up their emotions. They can feel anger and resentment, but feel guilty if they show it. Barney was pushed onto Jonty from a young age. Their dad made himself scarce as soon as it became apparent that Barney had problems. His mum self-medicated for a while before being diagnosed with depression. You have to hand it to Jonty, he all but brought his kid brother up single-handedly.” Tom’s face was grim. “But before you start feeling all warm and cuddly towards him, listen to this. The good doctor wasn’t convinced.”

  “By what?” Ava asked.

  Tom looked at her. “By any of it.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Meaning he thought Jonty was using Barney as a cover for his psychopathy.” So much for my brilliant idea, thought Ava. If Jonty Cole was a psychopath, her theory about him having feelings for Jess was wrong. He wouldn’t be capable of feelings.

  “Even so, Warren found Jonty’s relationship with his brother intriguing and puzzling. Warren pointed out he wasn’t an expert on psychopaths — he’s a clinical psychologist who specialises in child and adolescent mental health. So he discussed Jonty with a psychiatrist colleague, who thought that Jonty acted as he did towards his brother because he’d seen that other people thought well of him for it. Barney was useful to him. He showed Jonty in a good light, and Jonty liked the image of himself as the sainted brother. In time, that image would have become part of his identity. Barney was necessary to him, as well as useful.”

  “So what are we dealing with? A psychopath, or not?” Ava asked.

  Neal answered. “Warren was cagey about giving a precise diagnosis. Narcissistic personality disorder, psychopath, it doesn’t really matter now that we know what Jonty’s capable of. The professionals can argue over it later. Proceed with extreme caution, Ava. If Jonty does turn up, call for backup immediately.”

  “Yes, sir.” Ava closed down her laptop. This profile of Jonty Cole gave her little reason to hope that Jess was still alive. She paced the empty flat. Mariana had assured her that Barney would be back soon. College was closing early for some kind of training session and he was due any time. Ava was still pacing when a taxi pulled up. She crossed to the window and peered through the net curtains. Barney was making his way towards the entrance.

  Ava took the stairs three at a time and was waiting in the communal area when Barney walked in. Mariana appeared from nowhere, and Barney gave her a hug. Then he caught sight of Ava. He pulled away from Mariana and rushed over to embrace her.

  Mariana followed him over and said, “Ava would like to have a chat with you, Barney. Is ok with you?” Barney nodded enthusiastically.

  “How about right here? I’ll bring us some drinks?”

  “Hot chocolate for me,” Barney said immediately.

  “I know, I know, Barney. Coffee for you, Sergeant Merry?”

  Barney led her to a seating area with sofas and chairs arranged around a huge TV screen.

  “Movie night tonight,” Barney told her in his hesitant, childlike voice. “Me choose.”

  “What are you going to watch, Barney?” Ava asked. Barney pulled a DVD off a bookshelf and showed her.

  “Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban. Hey, good choice. That’s one of my favourites.” Barney’s face lit up.

  Ava risked a question. “How is that brother of yours, Barney? Jonty, isn’t it?”

  Barney looked crestfallen. “Missed bowling last night.”

  “Oh, that’s a shame. I’m sure Jonty had a good reason for missing it.”

  “Yes. Good reason.” His disappointment was so palpable it caused Ava to contemplate for the first time just how devastating losing his brother would be. If he was guilty of murdering at least two women, Jonty faced a life sentence. Just like that, poor Barney’s life would fall apart.

  “Barney, does your brother have a boat?”

  “No.”

  “Has he ever taken you on a boat? One of those long ones that you see on the river in town sometimes?”

  Barney’s face lit up. “Yes. In town. Hot chocolate and cakes.”

  “He means the one that’s moored near Marks and Spencer,” Mariana said. She set down a tray of drinks on the table in front of them. “Jonty takes you there on Saturdays sometimes, doesn’t he, Barney?”

  Ava knew it. She’d often passed the floating café, but had never gone inside.

  “What’s that you’ve got there, Barney?” Mariana picked up the DVD and turned it over. “Oh, Harry Potter. We are watching that later?”

  Ava smiled at Barney’s enthusiastic nodding. “That’s a new one,” Mariana said. “Barney watch old one so often, he wear it out.”

  “Who’s your favourite character?” Ava asked.

  Barney beamed. “’Mione. Pretty.”

  “Hey, mine too,” Ava said. They high-fived.

  An idea struck her. “Excuse me a sec,” she said. She pulled her phone out and called Neal. In a low voice, she said, “It’s just a hunch, sir, but there’s a possibility Jonty might have named his boat the ‘Hermione’ to please his brother. Harry Potter’s his favourite film and he’s sweet on Hermione. Not much, I know, but it might help with the search.”

  “Barney would like to show you his room,” Mariana said.

  She left them at the door.

  Barney beckoned Ava inside. She gazed around, pretending she was seeing everything for the first time.

  Chapter Twenty-six

  “Call for you.” Tom Knight handed PJ the phone. She looked at him but he shook his head. The caller hadn’t given a name.

  “Detective Constable Polly Jenkins speaking.” No response. “Hello?” Was Tom playing silly buggers?

  PJ heard a sigh. “My name is Andrea,” said the caller.

  “Andrea? How can I help you?”

  “I’m a care support assistant in Nottingham. I work for an agency called Star Healthcare.”

  PJ recognised the name from her enquiries about Seth. “Go on.”

  “I think you were making enquiries about Seth Carpenter?”

  “That’s right, Andrea. Do you have some information for me?”

  “I think I know where you can find him.” PJ held her breath. “I don’t know why you’re interested in Seth, but I can make a pretty good guess. He’s into young girls. Am I right?”

  “You’re sort of in the right ballpark,” PJ said. “What else do you know?” Another silence. Terrified that the caller was going to hang up, PJ managed to keep her voice steady. “Andrea, I’m not exaggerating when I say that a woman’s life might depend on what you say next.”

  Tom Knight had moved closer and PJ put the call on speaker.

  “I can’t prove anything.”r />
  “That’s okay. Just tell me what you believe.”

  “Seth doesn’t work for the agency now, as you were probably told. I heard our manager telling you that he’d given you a false address. While he was here he got a job at a mental health charity called Think Ahead. They provide advice and support for teenagers with mental health problems. They do a lot of outreach work. Visit kids in their homes and work with their families. I’m assuming you get what the attraction of this kind of work would be for someone like Seth?”

  PJ had a sinking feeling. “Yes, all too well.” Beside her, Tom signalled for the receiver.

  “Andrea, this is Detective Sergeant Tom Knight speaking. In a minute, we’d be really grateful if you’d allow us to pass you onto a colleague of ours to make a statement. But right now, what we need from you is information on where to find Seth Calder. As DC Jenkins just said, a woman’s life might depend on it.”

  “Okay, you can hear my story later. Have you got a pen ready?” Andrea read out an address and PJ scribbled it down.

  “So, he’s back in Stromfordshire,” PJ said to Tom, surprised. “Brantalby. There’s a train station there. He could move easily between Stromford and Nottingham.

  “I know it,” Tom said. “Better tell the chief.”

  PJ tapped on Neal’s window. He beckoned them in and listened to what PJ had to say.

  “You’ve checked this Andrea out?” he asked. “She is who she claims to be?”

  “Er . . .”

  “I’m on it,” Tom said. His thumbs darted rapidly across the screen of his phone. PJ was furious at herself for making such a rookie error, but at least she wasn’t alone. Tom had too. She twisted a strand of hair nervously around her finger and waited.

  “She checks out,” Tom said. “The agency confirmed that they have an Andrea Barber on their books.”

  But Neal’s mobile was ringing. PJ noticed a vein throbbing at his temple. Exhaustion? Or worry?

  “Yes, yes. Please check his room immediately.” Neal’s voice bristled with impatience. He lowered the phone.

 

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