by Anita Waller
She sat there for a while, letting the tears flow, then stood. She picked up the phone, and dialled the estate agents. The lovely Mr Bloomfield could get ready. He might have been Oliver’s friend, but he was about to find out just what it meant to make an enemy of a woman.
Chapter 47
Phil stepped back after taking stock of the baby food. He would have to limit both himself and Jake to one pouch each per day, once his own meagre rations had gone. He still had half a sandwich, six ginger biscuits, half the bar of chocolate, one packet of crisps and unlimited water, thanks to the small hand basin.
He had a box full of baby food pouches, and after counting them was relieved to see thirty-seven assorted foods, some savoury, giving more vital nutrients to them, and some sweet. He knew he wouldn’t be choosy one day, it would be a case of keeping alive to keep Jake alive. He also had seven cartons of long life milk, maybe not the most nutritious in the world, but it would fill Jake’s stomach, settling any hunger pangs. Nappies wouldn’t be an issue either; by the time the last nappy was to be used, they would both be dead. He could no longer dispose of them, but he had hundreds of carrier bags he could utilise, and he could stash the bags in the dumb waiter while they waited for rescue.
Rescue. What an awesome word. He now had no doubt that Captor had disappeared for good, abandoning them to whatever fate had in store for them.
He knew the whole country would be looking for the two of them, but he had no way of knowing how far on the journey of discovery the police had travelled. He had realised long ago that maybe Rosie had assumed he had walked away from her and Melissa, and therefore hadn’t reported him as a missing person, but that would not have been the case with Jake. That would have been instant news. He had no idea how long Jake had been with him, but surely every day was a day nearer being found.
He would do his bit to buy the police time, by keeping the two of them alive.
Jake stirred, and Phil waited for that first delicious after-sleep smile from his son. The blue eyes, so like his own, flickered open, then closed, then opened once more.
The smile came. The arms raised, and Phil lifted him out of the cot.
‘Okay… you hungry, little man?
He handed him a bottle of cold milk, having decided to limit his use of the gas to once a day, for warming milk. It didn’t seem to bother Jake, and he drank it with relish.
Phil decided to do without anything, and after Jake had finished his milk, they settled down under a blanket to read.
Please, dear God, send us some rescuers soon, Phil thought, even if it’s so we can get some new books. Peppa Pig is such a spoilt brat.
‘Peppa,’ Jake said.
Chapter 48
There was an air of hope in the briefing room; Brent had updated them all on the morning’s activities, and had told them he wanted information on O Jared Hardwick, possibly, but not necessarily, in the construction business. He also wanted reports on the computers, including the iPad recovered from Oliver’s house, and he wanted them fast.
For the first time, he read through the pathology report on Oliver Hardwick, and knew that no matter how bad things got, he would never have the balls to climb on to a tree branch, loop a rope around the branch, the other end around his neck, and jump.
The man’s mental state must have been slowly deteriorating for months, and yet not one of his acquaintances appeared to have noticed it. There was no suggestion it could have been anything but suicide; the facts, combined with the letter left by him, cleared that up.
Brent typed up his own report: two murders solved, one perpetrator dead, two victims still missing.
Brent closed down his computer and went into the briefing room. Nobody held up a hand indicating they had something to tell him, so he walked amongst them. Everybody seemed to be on the phone. The noise was at a level he hadn’t seen since the beginning of this investigation, and it gave him a considerable buzz.
He leaned over the computer of the young constable he could never remember the name of, and asked him what he was working on.
‘O Jared Hardwick, boss.’
‘And?’
‘There’s a construction company called Hardwick, but it doesn’t list an O J, or even a J, as one of the directors. I’m running a search through Companies House to see who the directors are, because the business is Chesterfield based, close enough to be a consideration.’
‘Thanks, er…’
‘DC Peters, boss, Steve.’
‘Oh, right. Thanks, Steve, and welcome to the team.’ Brent wandered over to the next desk where Lynda was reading through notes. ‘Anything new?’
She shook her head. ‘No, but I’ll keep going till I’ve read everything. We have to find this little one, sir. Do we need to re-interview Rosie Latimer and Tom Banton, in view of the letter?’
‘Tom Banton’s in court till three. I’m going down to see him after that. I’m going up to see Rosie Latimer from there, and then Christian Fremantle. That’s everybody seen then, who’s on the need-to-know list.’
‘We’ve not found OJ then?’
Will smiled. He knew the team had taken to calling Oliver Hardwick’s brother OJ; he hoped he wouldn’t use it, if and when he eventually got to meet the man.
‘Not so far. We don’t really know where to start, he might not even still live in the country. Fingers crossed we get a lead soon.’
Brent headed back to his own office, and poured himself a coffee. Thinking time. He could do nothing else for an hour, when he would have to leave for his appointment with Tom Banton. He had liked Tom the first time they had met, and Brent wondered how he would react when he saw the letter. He not only had to take the facts on board, he also had to tell their not inconsiderable staff. In addition, he had the business to sort out, distance himself from the evil that was Oliver Hardwick. He hoped the practice would survive.
His thoughts drifted to Gareth Chambers, and the upcoming funeral. Even though they had found the murderer, he would still be at the service, watching, looking for strangers, doing the policeman sort of things everyone expected at a not quite normal funeral service. And supporting Liz and Dan.
He took a sip of the coffee, and watched through the window separating his office from the main room. This case had dragged on for some time now, and he felt they were no nearer getting their missing persons back. Phil must be really bonding with the little boy, and Will wondered what the future would hold for the child, once they reunited him with his mother. Phil would most likely insist on being a part of his life, but would Liz be able to handle that? Would Rosie and Melissa?
The whole thing was such a mess; convoluted lives, insecurities – everything that could go wrong, had already done so. Could it ever be put right?
He pulled the letter towards him once again, and read it through in its entirety. If he hoped for enlightenment that hadn’t been there earlier, he was disappointed. It still wasn’t there. The worst thing was that he could hear Oliver’s voice reading it aloud. The phrases, the overall tone, it was all Oliver. Slightly pompous, not too friendly, the one in charge.
He rolled the letter in its plastic cover and put it in his jacket pocket, ready for showing to Tom Banton. He looked through the inner window, caught Lynda’s eye and pointed to the outside. She nodded, closed her computer and joined him.
‘Tom Banton?’ she asked.
‘Yes. Let’s go and get it over with. This poor chap doesn’t know what’s coming his way.’
Tom was already waiting for them. They walked into his office, and he offered them a drink. Both declined, and he wasn’t impressed. He’d deliberately waited for them before getting himself a drink, thinking they would join him, and he had to miss out by being polite.
‘You have some progress?’
Brent nodded. ‘Yes, sir, we do. I have something I want you to read. It’s your partner’s suicide letter.’
‘So, it was definitely suicide? Shit. I’ve known him all these years, and never saw anything that
would lead me to think he was falling apart.’
‘There’s a lot more to this letter than simply falling apart, Mr Banton. Be prepared. It’s not pleasant reading.’
Tom took it from him, and smoothed it on to his desk top.
He said nothing until he got to the end, then went back to the beginning and read it again.
‘How did I miss this, DI Brent?’ he said eventually. ‘How can I have known this man for all these years, almost loved him as a brother, and not known he was capable of this? How can we possibly carry on as a business which deals with the law, after this? He’s not only killed two people, kidnapped two more, and killed himself, he’s potentially put twenty people out of work, with all the problems that will cause.’
Brent didn’t know what to say. Lynda did.
‘Maybe we should have the coffee, now.’
Tom picked up the phone. ‘Karen, can we have three coffees, please? And then I need you in here when DI Brent has left, please. We have things to organise.’
‘Your secretary can’t see the letter, Mr Banton. That won’t be in the public domain for quite some time, if ever. Obviously, this will never go to Crown Court, just the Coroner’s Court. When you tell your staff, give them the bare facts. No reference to Hardwick’s state of mind, tell them it was suicide.’
Tom nodded. ‘I understand. I have to tell them today. They have to know what we’re facing.’ He handed the letter back to Brent as Karen walked through the door, holding the tray of drinks.
As she turned to go, she asked how Liz was.
‘She’s okay, missing her little boy,’ Lynda responded before Brent could answer. ‘I’ll tell her you asked about her.’
Karen smiled. ‘Thank you. Give her my best wishes.’
Nobody spoke until she had gone. And then all three spoke at once.
‘What…?
‘When…?
‘If…?’
They all smiled, and decided not to bother. The coffee was too good to spoil with conversation, and the two police officers realised Tom needed to think.
He ran his fingers through his unruly ginger hair, and frowned. ‘It’s too much to take in, isn’t it?’
Brent nodded. ‘Couldn’t agree more. When it was first handed to me, I read it aloud to one of our forensic chaps. He’d already read it, and I asked him to listen to it being verbalised. Sometimes you can pick things up by listening, instead of reading. I found it so disturbing, I felt physically sick. Like you, I wouldn’t have believed it of Oliver Hardwick. However, it leaves us with a massive problem.’
‘You don’t know where he’s stashed them. Latimer and Jake, I mean.’
‘It seems Mr Hardwick has properties even his wife didn’t know about. Did you know he owned the house Mrs Hardwick is currently renting?’
‘What? No, I didn’t. And he’s charging her rent? I take it she didn’t know.’
‘No, she didn’t. She was none too pleased, I can tell you. And did you know his brother?’
‘I didn’t even know he had a brother. This is ridiculous. Do you know how long I’ve known him? It seems I know nothing. Who’s this brother?’
We’re not sure. Julia… Mrs Hardwick, seems to think his name is Jared, but she also thought that was his second name, and his first name begins with O. He was considerably older than Oliver, she thought about ten years. She did say she’d never met him, and that Oliver bought him out of his half-share in the family home, when the parents died. He apparently had a construction company, but that was many years ago.’
Tom carried his coffee to the window, and stared out at the darkening sky. ‘What a shitty winter this has been. We were so looking forward to having Liz back with us. She’s so efficient, funny, and an absolute star at generally dealing with problems. Oliver clearly didn’t feel the same.’
‘Did he ever suggest he didn’t want her back?’
‘Never. He was the one who insisted she started at ten instead of nine, he bought the new coffee machine to make life easier for her – nothing would have suggested this level of hatred. To take her child…’
‘He made sure she was never in danger.’ Lynda spoke quietly, bringing a level of sensitivity to the discussion. ‘He wanted her to live, to know that the man she truly loved, Phil Latimer, and her baby, had both been taken. There can be no worse punishment, I could tell that the first time I met her. She’s a caring person, not only for her family, but for her friends too.’ And then a small smile lit up Lynda’s face. ‘In fact, she cares about everybody except DI Brent.’
Tom returned to his desk. ‘Oh? You’ve upset her, then?’
‘Only every time I see her,’ he said ruefully. ‘She doesn’t half bawl me out. I can’t do right for doing wrong, as the saying goes. I guess we rub each other up…’
Tom looked at the policeman. ‘Never, in all the twelve or so years I have known Liz have I heard her raise her voice. I’ve heard the odd bugger but that’s as far as it goes. She must really have some issues with you.’
He shrugged. ‘I’m here to do a job. Half of it is done; the murders are solved. I need you to give some thought to any properties Hardwick may have owned, or rented, or anything else. This could go back many years, so don’t dismiss anything. Where would he keep deeds? There’s nothing at his house, but if I was the one in his situation, I would have made damn sure those deeds were well locked away, and out of sight.’
‘We have archives in our basement here, and we store many sets of deeds for clients. Can I tell Karen what has happened? I’ll ask her to take time away from what she’s currently doing, and go down into the storage room and go through everything. It would be logical to hide them in plain sight, wouldn’t it? And Oliver was always logical, if nothing else. You can, of course, send one of your officers to do the job, but Karen will be able to recognise anything out of the ordinary much easier than your people. She’s not been here long, but she’s worked for solicitors, and the courts, over many years. Her knowledge is pretty impressive.’
Brent put down his empty cup and stood. ‘Thank you, Tom. That will be helpful. Will she be okay to start in the morning? Time is of the essence, as I’m sure you’ll realise.’
Tom looked at his watch. ‘It’s four now. We’ll both work until as late as we can without falling asleep. We can send out for a pizza or something to keep us going. There’s a lot to look through, but we’ll be meticulous. I feel as if I should be apologising to you for what he’s done…’
Brent shook his hand. ‘Don’t take that on board, for God’s sake. This is entirely down to Oliver Hardwick, not you, not your practice. Yes, your business will take a knock, but it won’t last forever. You have an excellent reputation, and that will save the jobs. Tell Karen everything, but she can be the only one. The others can know he committed suicide, until we find our two missing people. And thank you, Tom, for doing this search.’ He handed Tom a small piece of paper. ‘This is Julia’s address. If you look for this first, and find it, I think that’s a pretty good indicator that any more properties he owned will be there as well. This one, by the way, doesn’t need to go on any list, it’s already been checked.’
Brent and Lynda left the warmth of the solicitor’s office, and stepped out into the freezing early evening air. Lynda shivered. ‘Nice man,’ she said. ‘Let’s hope he finds something, because if he doesn’t, what do we do?’
Brent gave a deep sigh. ‘Something will come from somewhere. I’ll not let them down. And that you can believe.’
Lynda nodded. She believed.
Tom watched from his office window as they drove away, then he pressed the intercom for Karen. She answered immediately.
‘Karen, do you have anything to rush home for?’
‘Not if you need me.’
‘I do. We have to go into the basement, stay down there for a few hours, and look through some of the most boring files you’ll ever come across. There’ll be the two of us, but I will buy you a pizza. How does that sound?’
; ‘Delightful,’ she said drily. ‘And will there be spiders?’
‘Not many.’
‘Oh, deep joy. I’ll cancel my date for tonight then.’
‘Did you have a date?’
‘No, I didn’t want you to think I’m a sad old woman who has nothing in her life but boring old files. Are we going down now?’
‘Half an hour. I want some time with the rest of the staff. I’ll fill you in fully later, but the rest will be told that Oliver committed suicide, and we don’t know the reasons fully, yet.’
‘But we do?’ Her tone was sombre, the banter had died.
‘We do. DI Brent has asked that I don’t reveal details to anyone, but I think you’re excluded from that. You deserve to know the truth.’
‘Go and do what you have to do, Tom, I’ll finish off in here. Maybe you should send everyone home, after you’ve finished telling them. I imagine there will be some upset staff tonight. As soon as we’ve locked up behind everyone, we can start on those files.’
By half past four they were downstairs, and holding the deeds to Julia’s address; Tom began to talk.
Chapter 49
Rosie Latimer opened the door as soon as she heard the doorbell chime.
Her hair had turned an even dirtier shade of grey, causing a haggard look; without make-up to help, her skin was sallow.
‘Mrs Latimer? Thank you for your patience. We were with Tom Banton longer than expected.’
‘That’s okay, DI Brent. I didn’t have anything else to do. Melissa is with my mum – in fact, Melissa almost seems to have moved in with them. I don’t blame her, life’s not a bundle of joy anymore, is it?’
‘Can we sit down?’
She led them into the lounge. It was cold, and she bent down and switched on a gas fire. ‘I’ve stopped using the central heating. It costs too much to heat a house this size, so I heat whatever room I am using.’
