by Eva Dolan
‘Was Dorcus happy to see Ainsworth?’
‘He isn’t the man who got her pregnant,’ Judy said, in a withering tone she didn’t deserve to be throwing around. ‘He was always very kind to Dorcus. She trusted him. She saw him as a friend. I mean, if they weren’t friends why else would he have gone over to visit her?’
Ferreira knew why.
‘I’m going to need to speak to Dorcus,’ she said.
CHAPTER SIXTY-SIX
Zigic didn’t like it. Some woman who wouldn’t give her real name, wouldn’t go any further into the station than the reception area. Someone who obviously had an axe to grind with Long Fleet. That wasn’t the kind of informer you wanted to build a case on.
‘I don’t know about this,’ he said. ‘It sounds like “Judy” has a vested interest in stirring up bad press for Long Fleet and she’s seen this case as an opportunity to do it.’
Ferreira rolled her eyes at him. ‘You think she picked this story out of her arse?’
He wrinkled his nose.
‘Look, we went through Ruby Garrick because we hoped one of her group might be able to put us onto a contact for Dorcus and she’s done that.’ Ferreira opened a bottle of juice but didn’t drink it. ‘What kind of person did you think we’d end up talking to? They’re protestors. None of them were going to be big fans of the police. Shit, if you didn’t want to dirty your hands dealing with unsavoury elements, then maybe this wasn’t a good job choice.’
He gave her a warning look but she met it.
The last couple of days had eroded whatever slim moral high ground he’d carved out for himself over the length of their working relationship. Getting dragged into an off-book investigation with Adams had seen to that. Hiding it from Mel had only made it worse.
Dimly, he realised that was why he was being so picky about Ferreira’s new contact. He was trying to claw back some semblance of moral certainty. For himself, not for anyone else. He wanted to be the kind of copper who did things the right way again.
‘She knew Josh had been in Kampala visiting Dorcus, yeah?’ Ferreira said, visibly restraining herself. ‘We never made that public. So she’s obviously got some insider knowledge.’
‘We didn’t go public but other people knew about it.’
‘If she manages to get Dorcus to talk to us, then we’ll know, won’t we?’ She took a drink of orange juice and put the bottle back down on the desk, next to the remains of a breakfast bagel. ‘But this is all starting to make sense now.’
‘The DNA test is from Dorcus’s baby?’ Zigic asked. ‘That’s your theory?’
‘Ainsworth suspected Patrick Sutherland of grooming Dorcus and getting her pregnant,’ she said. ‘Now she’s given birth – literally, a couple of months ago – and Ainsworth goes over to Uganda bearing medication and, I’m guessing, some swabs to take a sample from the baby.’
‘And what about Dorcus? Do you think she knew what he was doing?’
‘I’m going to ask her that,’ Ferreira said shortly. ‘But don’t you think the timing of the break-in at Sutherland’s place is interesting when you put it in context?’ She went over to the board and slammed her knuckles against it. ‘Wednesday, Ainsworth comes home from Kampala. Thursday, he breaks into Sutherland’s house, apparently stealing nothing and not going any further than the bathroom.’ She looked expectantly at him.
‘Where you’d probably find something with DNA on, okay.’
‘Friday, the samples go in the post and Saturday, he’s dead.’
Zigic folded his arms. It all flowed on very neatly but that didn’t mean her theory was right.
‘This would sort of make sense if Sutherland knew Ainsworth broke into his house.’
‘We only have his word for it that he didn’t know it was Ainsworth,’ she said irritably. ‘And does he strike you as a particularly honest person?’
‘We’ll put it to him.’
‘Okay, great,’ she said. ‘Let’s go.’
‘I want to speak to Nadia first,’ he told her. ‘Her solicitor is due in about half an hour. There’s no point questioning Sutherland until we find out what she’s prepared to give us.’
‘Ziggy,’ Adams called across the room and he was grateful for the momentary respite.
There was CCTV footage paused on Adams’s computer screen and he had the dry-eyed, rumpled look of someone who’d spent the better part of the morning skimming through low-quality images in search of someone who wasn’t there.
‘What’s this?’ Zigic asked. ‘You’re not still on Walton?’
‘I am, but no, this is that idiot who did a runner the other week. Got a tip-off that he’s come back into the country through Dover but nobody thought to pick him up. By the time they decided his stupid face matched the picture on their wanted list, he was gone.’ Adams stretched his neck, eliciting a small but sickening crunch that made him wince. ‘Yeah, that’s the one.’
‘What’s the problem?’ Zigic asked, already wanting out of the office, his mind halfway to the interview room.
‘Just keeping you in the loop,’ Adams said, perching on the corner of his desk. ‘Social services just visited the Waltons and were refused admission. Threats were made. Evidently, the gentleman carrying out the visit believed the threats were valid as they’re now adding little Robbie Walton to a register.’
He looked very pleased with himself about it.
‘And you did that?’ Zigic asked.
‘Well, it was Mel’s idea to have someone keep an eye on the kid.’ He crossed his arms. ‘Given how Walton’s losing his shit right now, I think a bit of backup from social’s a good thing, don’t you?’
Zigic thought it was antagonistic and part of him suspected that was the whole point of Adams’s sending someone over there, but he wanted to believe Adams was better than that.
Zigic walked out of the office, pushing away all thoughts of Walton and that ongoing fiasco.
He needed to focus on Nadia Baidoo.
CHAPTER SIXTY-SEVEN
Ferreira rolled a cigarette and took it downstairs out onto the station steps, switching her phone back on.
There was a missed call from Dani. The sight of it sent an ache through her chest and gut, knowing it would most likely be Walton calling on Dani’s phone, wanting another chance to taunt or threaten her.
She lit up and took a deep drag before she called Dani back.
She answered immediately.
‘Why are you doing this to me?’ she asked in a furious whisper.
For a moment Ferreira was stunned into silence, wondering what Dani could possibly mean.
‘Doing what?’
‘You know what. Social services have just been round here. We’ve never had any trouble with them before. We’re good parents.’
Ferreira was surprised an underfunded and overworked social services team had gone around to the Waltons’ this quickly. Even with Billy calling in a favour. Or maybe she was doing them a disservice. The facts of the case were worrying enough to catch the attention of even the most harassed social worker.
‘Dani, you’re in danger. Your son is in danger. That’s why social services are visiting you.’
‘You did this to me.’
‘They’re not worried about what you’ll do to Robbie,’ Ferreira pointed out. ‘It’s what Lee’s going to do. And as long as you’re with him, you’ll both be vulnerable.’
There was a long pause and Ferreira hoped Dani was considering what she’d said, but she could hear how light and fast her breathing had become, could feel her waiting and listening. Could almost taste the fear coming down the line.
‘I can get you somewhere safe right now,’ she said. ‘Just say yes and I’ll come and fetch you myself. You don’t have to live like this.’
‘Lee’s furious,’ she said finally. ‘This is harassment. He’s a good dad. He’d never hurt Robbie.’
‘He’s hurting Robbie every time he sees his mum getting beat up by his father.’
In th
e background a door slammed and she heard Walton bellowing, calling for his mum. She thought of the four of them thrown together in the mother’s house, hoped the woman was a calming influence but guessed she wasn’t. She’d raised him. She was probably just as terrified of Lee as Dani was.
‘If he finds out you set them on us …’
‘What, Dani?’ Ferreira demanded. ‘What’s he going to do?’
‘You need to watch yourself.’ It should have been a threat but it sounded more like a genuine warning and she wondered why Dani could give that advice but not take it. ‘And you better not call me any more.’
She rang off and Ferreira swore into the air.
It was inevitable, she told herself, as she relit her dead cigarette. Sending social services around was always going to antagonise Walton. She knew that when she thought of it and when she’d discussed it with Billy. But Walton’s overreaction was exactly why it was necessary to call them in.
You didn’t back down from a bully.
You didn’t give them what they wanted out of fear for their response.
Upstairs she found Zigic ready and waiting to go. ‘Ms Hussein’s here. You ready to start?’
‘Totally.’
The solicitor was in the corridor when they got there, standing at the interview-room door as if she wouldn’t let them enter until she’d said her piece. Ferreira admired her tenacity, thought that if she was ever in trouble this is what she’d want from a solicitor, even as she felt slightly annoyed by the liberties she was taking.
‘Good morning,’ Ms Hussein said brusquely. ‘I’ve impressed upon Nadia the importance of being completely open and honest with you today. She understands that you’re her best hope now, please don’t let her down.’
Zigic looked uncomfortable with her approach but he opened the door for her and ushered her in. Ms Hussein went to take a seat and next to her Nadia seemed very small and very young, dishevelled from her night in the cells, her hair crushed on one side and her skin dry and greyed under the strip light.
Ferreira set up the tapes, hoping Nadia would give them what they needed so they could do their best for her. For all her lies, she was a victim and she deserved whatever protection they could give her.
‘We’d like to talk about the break-in,’ Zigic said. ‘Can you tell us what happened, please, Nadia?’
She glanced at Ms Hussein, received an encouraging look.
‘I was in the kitchen washing up,’ she began, her voice weaker than it had been yesterday, parched and thinner. ‘I saw somebody come over the back fence and I panicked because I thought they must be going to try and break in. So I went to lock the back door and when I got a better look at the man, I realised it was Dr Ainsworth.’ She reached for the water bottle in front of her, tried to open it and couldn’t. Ms Hussein took it from her and unscrewed the lid, handed it back to her for her to drink. ‘I didn’t know what to do. I ran upstairs and hid in the wardrobe.’
‘Did he see you?’
‘I don’t know,’ she said. ‘He screamed when he came over the fence but I didn’t wait to see why or what he would do. I just ran and hid. I thought he was going to kill me.’
There was a tremble in her voice, impossible to fake.
‘Why did you think he wanted to hurt you?’ Zigic asked.
‘Because of what I said about him.’
‘Did you know he’d lost his job over it?’
She looked down into her lap. ‘Patrick told me he resigned. He said it was nothing to do with me but I’m not an idiot, I knew it was. I didn’t think that would happen when I said it. I didn’t think about it at all, I was so desperate to get out of there.’
Ms Hussein put her hand on Nadia’s arm. ‘It’s okay, just answer the detective’s questions, you don’t need to explain yourself.’
Zigic frowned, but didn’t pursue the line. ‘What happened when he got into the house?’
‘I heard him in the kitchen, he was swearing and talking to himself,’ she said. ‘Then he came upstairs and I thought I was going to die. I closed my eyes and prayed he wouldn’t find me.’ She wrapped her arms around herself. ‘I heard him in the bathroom, I think he must have been looking for something to stop the bleeding because after he was gone there was blood on the floor.’
So far her story tallied with what they had from forensics, but this was where the evidence fell away and they needed her statement.
‘Where did he go after the bathroom?’ Zigic asked tentatively. ‘Did he find you?’
She shook her head.
‘You need to speak,’ Ms Hussein told her before Ferreira could. ‘It’s for the tapes.’
‘Sorry,’ she nodded to them. ‘No, he didn’t find me. He went back downstairs and I spent a really long time trying to work out whether he was still in the house. I couldn’t hear him any more but I daren’t move in case he was waiting for me down there. I don’t know how long I waited but eventually I got out of the wardrobe and went down and found the house was empty. I called Patrick then and he came home.’
‘Did you tell Patrick who had broken in?’
‘Yes. He wanted to call the police but then I told him it was Dr Ainsworth and he said we shouldn’t call you.’ She folded her hands together on the tabletop. She’d painted her nails a bright coral pink at one point, but the varnish was chipped now and picked at. ‘He said he’d speak to Dr Ainsworth and tell him to leave us alone.’
Was that how it happened? It sounded too perfect, Ferreira thought. The kind of line a solicitor might encourage a client to add to a story or the kind of thing you’d come up with during the long hours after midnight, waiting in a cell to have your say.
It fitted though.
She could imagine Sutherland going around to Ainsworth’s place and warning him off. Ainsworth having none of it. An argument turning into a fight turning into a murder.
But why have that conversation so late? You only went into someone’s home under cover of darkness for nefarious reasons.
‘And when did he go to speak to Dr Ainsworth?’ Zigic asked, a hint of reticence in his voice.
‘Patrick wanted to go right then,’ Nadia said. ‘He was upset and angry and I begged him not to leave me on my own.’
‘And did he go?’
‘No, he stayed with me. He tidied the house up and called someone to come and fix the back door, then he found some cardboard to cover it up with overnight. He was trying to make everything like it was. He kept talking to me the whole time, not about what had happened. He was making plans for what we’d do at the weekend. He was trying to distract me so I’d calm down.’
She frowned but Ferreira saw the affection in her eyes. It surprised her but of course Nadia had feelings for Patrick Sutherland. He’d groomed her, charmed her, sprung her from Long Fleet and brought her to his home. Twenty years old, vulnerable and alone, how could you not feel a little love for the person who did that for you?
‘By the time he’d finished tidying up, he seemed a lot calmer as well,’ Nadia said, her face clouding over. ‘He was fine until we went to bed.’
Ferreira felt a uneasy sensation creep across the back of her neck.
‘Patrick went for a shower and when he got out he couldn’t find his hairbrush.’ She looked between them, absolutely perplexed. ‘He was using this voice he has when he’s trying to sound reasonable, but I can tell he’s really irritated by something. He asked me if I’d moved it and I said I hadn’t. Then he asked if I’d used it, and –’ She gestured at her curls. ‘Of course I hadn’t. I don’t know why he was so wound up about it.’
‘Was it there before the break-in?’
She considered this briefly. ‘I think so. It was there before Patrick went to work because I remember him brushing his hair while I was in the shower.’
Ferreira bit down on the satisfied smile she felt tugging at her face.
Ainsworth had broken into Sutherland’s house for DNA to test against Dorcus’s baby. That was why he only went as far as t
he bathroom. He knew what he wanted and where he’d find it. He probably had no idea Nadia was even in the house. No idea she was with Sutherland at all maybe.
She glanced at Zigic but his profile was set straight and hard as he looked at Nadia.
‘Was anything else taken?’ he asked.
‘Nothing,’ she said. ‘Just Patrick’s hairbrush.’
‘How did he act the next day?’ Ferreira asked.
Nadia inclined her head towards her, twisting her mouth into a thoughtful shape. ‘He was quieter than usual. I didn’t want him to go into work but he said he couldn’t let them down. They were short-staffed since Dr Ainsworth left and they were having trouble getting a decent locum. He was very stressed out at work.’ Spoken like a wife describing her long-suffering husband. ‘I was worried that Dr Ainsworth might come back again but Patrick said he wouldn’t. He was very certain.’
‘Why do you think that was?’
‘He said, “He got what he came for.”’ Her gaze drifted across the tabletop, as if she was still trying to understand the comment. ‘But I was still scared. I made sure everywhere was locked and closed all the blinds. I just sat on the sofa and waited for Patrick to come home.’
Zigic took a deep breath, resigned-sounding, but Ferreira knew he was readying himself for the next part. It felt like they were close to something but there was always the fear in the moments before you levelled your most important questions that they would result in answers you didn’t want.
‘On the Saturday night,’ Zigic said slowly. ‘Saturday the 4th, what did you and Patrick do?’
Again Nadia looked to Ms Hussein before she would answer and again the solicitor gave a reassuring little nod. It was beginning to look like prompting and Ferreira wondered if Zigic was thinking the same thing, how malleable Nadia would seem in a witness box. How a jury wouldn’t trust her testimony if it appeared to be directed like this.
‘Patrick was very quiet on Saturday,’ she said, sliding her hand nervously up the sleeve of her T-shirt and gripping her shoulder, looking defensive. ‘I wanted to go out but he wanted to stay at home, but then he didn’t want to do anything there either. He spent a long time in the bathroom with the door locked and I don’t think he was doing anything, he just didn’t want to be with me.’ She was troubled by the thought, hurt in her eyes as she recalled it. ‘We had dinner and watched a film and then Patrick said we should have an early night.’
