Dark Truths

by A. J. Cross

  Back at headquarters, Judd headed for the office as Watts stopped at the reception desk. ‘Anything for us?’

  ‘No … Hang on, Sarge. There’s a data check result here.’ The officer reached for it, handed it to Watts.

  He looked down at the details, then up. ‘How long’s this been sitting here?’

  The officer avoided his gaze. ‘Not too sure, Sarge.’ He watched Watts walk away.

  A fellow officer sidled up, speaking from one side of his mouth. ‘If that checks been here for more than twenty-four hours, get busy developing a sudden attack of amnesia.’

  Watts threw open the door of his office, walked inside, dropped the data check on to the table and pointed. ‘See that? I requested that two days ago. It’s been sitting in Reception for God-knows how long.’

  Judd reached for it, eyes moving over the top line. ‘A conviction for drink driving.’ She read on, looked up at him. ‘Well, wha’-d’ya-know? Princess Perfect.’ She read aloud the details. ‘Zoe Roberts fined for drink-driving eighteen months ago.’

  Watts took it from her. ‘The amount of the fine suggests she was just over the limit. What gets me on a line is that we’ve got enough problems without data delays.’

  ‘I’ll tell you what annoys me. Whilst her mother was busy painting a glowing picture of Zoe to us, nobody in that family, neither she, the father, nor Alec Prentiss mentioned this.’

  Watts carried files from the cabinet and dropped them on to the table. ‘Give me one good reason why they would.’

  She looked at him. ‘How about general cooperation and openness?’

  ‘How about they were knocked sideways with grief when we saw them?’

  ‘I think Mother Prentiss hit you because she knew Zoe had that escort side-line. Now I’m wondering what else that family knows that they haven’t told us.’

  He eyed her. ‘Is drink-driving a hanging offence in Judd World?’

  ‘How about we go and see them again? Ask them about it.’

  ‘I want to move this investigation on, get David Winter and Paul Clarke in here for interview, but Traynor’s right, we don’t have enough evidence to move either of them to POI.’

  ‘Just do it, Sarge and see what we get.’

  He eyed her, wondering if she’d learned anything recently. ‘The lawyers they bring with them would have them out of here within five minutes.’

  Judd huffed. ‘I’m surprised anybody ever gets arrested!’

  He went to the cabinet, took out a file and brought it back to the table. He flipped it open. ‘I’ve got a job for you. Remember the three childhood friends of Zoe Roberts’?’

  ‘Yes. You had officers visit them and take statements.’

  He held up the statements.

  ‘I want more detail.’ He passed them to Judd. ‘Arrange to go over and see all three sometime this afternoon.’

  Judd looked at the names on each: Bethany Williams. Marcia Smith. Juanita Perez. She read the statements. They were very brief, to-the-point accounts of the friendships between the three women and Zoe Roberts from early childhood to their teens. She checked the dates of the interviews. All three statements were taken two days after Roberts had been killed. She skimmed the accounts again, a picture forming of four confident, secure young women. She shrugged, thinking, OK, I envy them, so, shoot me. She reached for the phone.

  Judd was inside Marcia Smith’s comfortable apartment, listening to the sounds of cold drinks being poured in the kitchen nearby. She turned pages of notes she’d made at Bethany Williams’ home, recalling Williams’ toddler daughter, chubby in pink, baby-blonde hair secured on top of her head, a tiny, bobbing palm tree. At Juanita Perez’s home, a heavily pregnant Perez had talked to Judd about her friendship with Zoe Roberts. Neither woman had added to the information Judd already had. Judd sighed, rubbed her eyes, looked around Smith’s comfortable, modern lounge. It chimed with Judd’s own life goals: independence, nice home, career, security. No children. She already had Smith’s account of her friendship with Zoe Roberts. It was time to leave. She looked up at the smiling, dark-haired woman, drinks in hand, ice clinking against glass as she walked. She set one down on a small table beside Judd.

  ‘I hope you like cranberry juice.’

  ‘I do, thank you.’ Judd reached for it, drank half, set the glass down. ‘Is there anything else you’d like to add to what you’ve told me about Zoe?’

  Smith shook her head. ‘I can’t think of anything. I’ve said it all. We tended to meet up about twice a year for a general catch-up. I wish we’d made more effort. Made it more regular.’ She looked across at Judd, shook her head. ‘Wishes are about as useful as good intentions.’ She sipped her drink. ‘Zoe and I actually started primary school on the same day so I knew her before Bethany and Juanita did. It’s a lifetime ago, yet talking about it, it seems like no time at all. All of us working like crazy to pass our exams, get to university.’ She laughed, ‘All of us strung out, worrying that we wouldn’t make it.’ She glanced at Judd. ‘That’s something I’d tell my younger self: worry less. We all made it but it would have been great to know it, back then. It would have saved a lot of angst.’ She looked away, her face clouding. ‘Just as well Zoe didn’t know what was waiting for her.’

  Judd reached for her bag, ready to leave. ‘I’m guessing Zoe’s parents just left her to get on with exam preparations.’

  Smith’s reply was unexpected. ‘You’re totally wrong about that. Bethany’s and Juanita’s parents were like mine, encouraging but a bit laidback. Zoe’s mom, and particularly her dad, were totally different. They had stratospheric hopes for her. They really pushed her. Kept an eye on how much work she was doing.’ Smith looked at Judd. ‘Don’t get me wrong. I’m not saying they were horrible, not at all, but at one stage Zoe literally dropped out of circulation. I think it was because of her study regime. It might have been partly due to her having broken up with her boyfriend as well, but she didn’t come out at all during that time. At least, not as far as I or Beth and Juanita knew. We were really hitting the books, but not to that extent.’ She shrugged. ‘We still had time to party.’

  ‘How long did Zoe stay dropped out?’

  Smith gave it some thought. ‘I’d say a couple of months, maybe a bit more.’

  ‘And during that time, you never saw her?’

  ‘I saw her once. I was out shopping. Zoe was with her mother. Mrs Prentiss kept interrupting, saying that they were in a hurry. All Zoe and I managed was a few words.’

  ‘How did Zoe seem?’

  ‘Fine, a bit tired, but I remember being surprised at the change in her. She’d put on a lot of weight. I assumed it was because she was missing her boyfriend, eating and studying. Crisps were my thing at the time: snacking without looking, eyes fixed on my computer screen.’ She smiled, shook her head. ‘I didn’t see Zoe again until the exams were finished.’

  ‘How was she then?’

  ‘Like her old self, slim, ready to enjoy what was left of the summer.’

  Judd’s mind was racing. ‘Do you recall her boyfriend’s name?’

  Smith thought about it, shook her head. ‘No, sorry.’

  Judd got into her car, Marcia Smith’s words reverberating inside her head. She reminded herself that there might be any number of reasons for a fifteen-year-old schoolgirl to curtail her social life over several weeks and gain significant weight. Of all of those reasons, Judd’s thinking was circling around just one.

  Judd hurried into headquarters and down the stairs, relieved to see light inside the PM suite. She knocked on the door and waited. It was opened by Dr Chong. ‘Hello, Chloe. You’re a welcome surprise. Does DI Watts have something for me?’

  Judd spoke in a rush. ‘No. I just got back from talking to three women who were at school with Zoe Roberts. One of them has told me something about her and I think it might be relevant to our case but I need help to work out whether I’m right.’

  Chong led the way inside and pointed to a chair next to her desk. ‘G
o on.’

  Judd sat, looking uncertain. ‘It made a lot of sense an hour ago when I heard it. Now, I’m not so sure.’

  Chong studied the young face. ‘If I’m going to help, I need some facts.’

  Judd raked her fingers through her hair. ‘OK. One of Zoe’s friends I just mentioned described her as dropping out socially around the time they were studying for exams. This is when they were around fifteen, sixteen years old. They didn’t see Zoe during those two to three months, although one of them told me she saw her just once, very briefly, when she was out shopping with her mother. Mrs Prentiss kept trying to hustle Zoe away but according to what the friend told me, Zoe looked different. She was tired and she’d gained a lot of weight. The next time they saw her was when the exams had finally ended. They all got back together again and she described Zoe as looking like her usual self.’

  Chong gave her a keen look. ‘And?’

  Judd gripped her hands together. ‘I think Zoe Roberts was pregnant. I think she had a termination. It has to be relevant to our investigation, although I don’t know how. She had a boyfriend back then but she broke up with him. I don’t have any information about him so the only way I can sort it out is to talk to you about it.’ She eyed Chong. ‘I need you to confirm that Zoe Roberts was pregnant at around fifteen or sixteen.’ She watched as Chong stood, walked across the PM suite then returned with an old, buff-coloured file.

  ‘Your keenness does you credit, Chloe. These are Zoe Roberts’ medical records from when she was born.’ She turned pages, quickly scanned them and stopped. ‘This is around the time in Zoe’s life you’re referring to.’ She pushed the file towards Judd, pointing at information. Judd quickly read lines of information in varied handwriting, turned pages to more entries, some of them printed. After a few minutes, she looked up. ‘There’s no reference to Zoe Roberts ever being pregnant.’

  Chong shook her head, took back the file. ‘No. My post-mortem examination showed no evidence of a past pregnancy but I wanted you to see for yourself.’

  Judd leant back, raking her hair into more spikes, looking frustrated. ‘I was so sure. It made sense.’

  ‘Sorry to wreck your theory. My advice when you get home is, get a good night’s sleep. Other ideas will come to you.’

  Judd looked at her, anguished. ‘We’re almost out of time as a team. DI Watts is really stressed and he and Dr Traynor are clashing. OK, I got it wrong about a pregnancy but I still think there was something happening in Zoe’s life back then. Her friend said she changed. That she withdrew.’

  Chong sent her a sympathetic smile. ‘Sounds to me like the common condition of most fifteen-sixteen-year-olds at any one time, plus my own personal experience.’

  Judd looked surprised. ‘I can’t imagine you were ever like that. You’re so … “together”.’

  ‘We all have those times, Chloe. It’s what helps us find our way to “together”. Sorry I can’t help you with Zoe Roberts.’

  Judd frowned. ‘Did DI Watts tell you that she was convicted for drink-driving about eighteen months ago?’

  ‘Yes, he did. You think it might be relevant to what happened to her?’

  Judd shrugged. ‘I don’t have a clue, but it bothers me that her family didn’t mention it.’ She frowned. ‘Mrs Prentiss is the type of person who really rates respectability, but Mr Prentiss didn’t come across like that, so why didn’t he say something?’ She stood. ‘Thanks for your help, Dr Chong. Sorry to take up your time. I can see you’re busy. I’ll go upstairs, trawl the databases and see if I can find any details on the drink-driving conviction.’

  Chong went to the desktop, hit keys. ‘I can see you won’t follow my advice about going home, so do it from here.’

  Judd came and sat, hit keys, watched information arrive on the screen. She pointed. ‘There. That’s it.’

  Chong looked over her shoulder at the screen. ‘Any help?’ she asked.

  ‘No. It says only what we already know. That Roberts’ breath test produced a very low reading, that she went to the magistrates’ court and got a small fine.’

  ‘Given its non-serious nature it’s possible there aren’t any more details.’ Chong looked at the dispirited young face. ‘Like I said, go home. Eat something calorific. Things will look better tomorrow. It usually works for me.’

  They looked up as the door opened and Watts came inside. ‘Get anything from Roberts’ mates, Judd?’

  She outlined for him what she’d found out from one of Zoe Roberts’ friends. ‘I thought Zoe was pregnant but she wasn’t.’

  Watts eyed Chong. ‘Well done for following it up.’

  ‘I was thinking that the drink-driving offence sounded out of character, but given what we know about her, I don’t think it was. She could have had others.’

  Watts shook his head. ‘Doubt it. If she had, she wouldn’t have got the lenient treatment she did eighteen months ago.’

  ‘There’s nothing on the PNC, but it doesn’t change my thinking about her. I’m telling you she was no saint.’

  Watts came to the computer. ‘I want to check something on the database.’

  ‘You want a search of dating agencies?’

  ‘No. They’re like mushrooms and we don’t have any details on the one Roberts was involved with. I’m thinking of something else, somebody else with an offence record: David Winter, one of our persons of interest.’ Judd typed in the name and Watts stared over her shoulder at details moving up the screen. ‘There. David Anthony Winter. Assault and disturbing the peace.’

  Judd’s eyes moved over it. ‘He accused Daniel Broughton of being a menace for parking his vehicles on the road but the police told him it was all legal.’ She looked up at Watts. ‘What if there was another incident between Broughton and Winter which was never part of any police investigation?’

  ‘If there was, I don’t see how it could have led to four people’s deaths.’ He saw her face change. ‘Take it easy while I read this.’ He stared at the screen. ‘Winter was furious with Broughton for parking his car by his property, which is what Winter told me.’

  Judd pointed. ‘That’s only half the story, see? He also objected to Broughton’s men doing the same. It wasn’t just cars, Sarge. It was builders’ vehicles and skips as well. Sounds like Broughton was one of these nightmare neighbours.’ She looked up at him. ‘But the police told him they were legal as well. Maybe this Winter didn’t like Broughton and used it as an excuse to cause him problems?’

  Watts shrugged. ‘Having met Winter, it’s possible. Unless, the parking caused problems for somebody else.’ He looked at her. ‘What’s the worst-case scenario you can think of in that kind of situation?’

  She frowned at the screen. ‘You mean, like, some kind of accident?’

  Watts brought out his phone. ‘Kumar, I want information on road traffic incidents in the south of the city around fifteen years ago. I’m particularly interested in those which involved parking obstruction.’ He ended the call. ‘Kumar’s got more database access up there.’

  ‘I’m having coffee,’ said Chong. ‘Anyone else want one?’

  Watts nodded, began pacing, seeing Judd’s impatience mounting.

  There was a sudden beep. Judd went to the screen. ‘Look, Sarge. Kumar’s found twenty incidents dated around the time we’re interested in.’

  Several minutes later, Judd was eyeing the nineteenth on the screen. ‘I don’t think this one’s much help either: unnamed woman and infant reported deceased at the scene after her vehicle skidded in poor visibility then veered into the path of an oncoming vehicle … its three occupants unhurt in the impact. None of the other people involved are named. Weather conditions and the woman driver’s speed were judged to have caused the accident. No further action taken.’ She rubbed her eyes. ‘I’m fed up.’

  ‘Print them,’ said Watts. She did. He collected them from the printer. ‘Time to pack it in.’ He turned to Chong. ‘Any news on the hair samples found on Zoe Roberts?’

  She sh
ook her head.

  After Judd left, Watts had phoned Mr Prentiss to ask about the vehicles used as part of his business. Prentiss had confirmed several vans plus a dark blue, eight-year-old Audi which he described as a run-about used by his employees. Hearing Watts’ request for it to be forensically processed plus a list of employees, Prentiss sounded less than enthusiastic but agreed. Watts arranged for a couple of officers to collect both car and list the next day.

  He was on his way out of headquarters when a voice calling his name stopped him. It was Brophy, working on a Saturday, which was a surprise. He listened as Brophy told him that his replacement was arriving at headquarters on Monday anticipating a detailed case handover. Watts would then spend the remainder of that week ensuring that his replacement was fully conversant with all aspects of the case. Whoever it was, he wished them luck. They’d need it. He walked to his vehicle, dropped the files on the passenger seat, pulled his phone from his pocket, his eyes fixed on a heavy bank of cloud as he left a message for Traynor. ‘I’m going to see Mr and Mrs Prentiss tomorrow. There’s a couple of things I need to talk to them about, not least their daughter’s involvement with escort agency work, which will take some doing as I can’t see Mrs Prentiss being very welcoming. Get back to me when you’ve got a minute.’

  Traynor was at Blackfoot Trail. There had been no vehicles parked along one side of the lane as he’d driven down it. The whole scene was silent. He leant against his car, his head down, knowing what his psychiatrist would say if he could see him. Something on the lines of: ‘If you want to be really ill again, continue doing exactly as you’re doing.’

  The mood inside headquarters had been sombre. He’d seen it reflected in the faces there and those of the press waiting outside. He’d seen Watts on the verge of exhaustion, his time as SIO almost finished. Traynor was on his own now. He knew Claire was here. It was up to him to find her. When he did, he could let her go. He looked up, his eyes drifting over the immediate surroundings. It had never made sense to him that the bodies of the three decapitated victims had been taken away, hidden elsewhere. It was high-risk behaviour to move them by road. Anything might have happened: a flat tyre, engine problems, an accident, a driving violation. He went to his car, opened the boot and reached for the spade, seeing papers related to the case which he hadn’t yet read. He closed the boot on them. There was something he had to do. He took a couple of steps from the car. The ground beneath his feet heaved and dipped. He got a first subtle aroma: fresh bread. It drifted around him, growing stronger every second. Claire had baked bread the evening she was killed. The house was full of its smell as he’d stepped inside and into a nightmare. It was here now. All around him.