He’d noticed Mal taking a call while Sarah was speaking. ‘Something for us, Mal?’
‘Yep, guv. We’ve got the car, I believe. Blue 2005 Mazda 3 hatchback with cloth trim, registered and in good nick – obviously used to be garaged. It’s presently parked in an underground space beneath Judge Leland’s apartment building and in her spot . . . apartment six.’
They blew out a relieved breath of excitement as one. Someone even clapped. ‘Good stuff, Mal.’
‘We can now add Judge Leland to our list.’
‘Do we invite her to help with our enquiries?’ Kate asked.
Jack shook his head. ‘No, arrest her. You do it, as she knows you. Escort the judge to Belgravia nick and, of course, she’ll want her solicitor present.’
‘Who will advise her to say nothing,’ Kate replied.
‘Yes, true, but Judge Leland will know our intent by then and you’ll be able to surmise plenty from how she responds to her arrest. It also buys us time, and we’ll know she’s the link if Brian Jarvis reacts. Speaking of which, Sarah, do we know where Brian Jarvis is?’
‘I’ve left a voicemail for him, plus I’m waiting on a call back from one of the admin team, but I’m sorry, at this point no one at the Crown Court seems to know exactly where he is.’ Jack’s expression darkened. ‘He was scheduled for a meeting at the Old Bailey, according to Shirley Attlee, his colleague. He told her he might be having lunch at a restaurant in Bayswater. That’s all I’ve been able to hunt down.’
‘Stay on it, Sarah.’
‘Sir?’ It was Ali again. ‘The caravan was rented out to a Mr Derek Bryan. I think that’s too close to be a coincidence, if you don’t mind me saying so.’
‘I don’t, one bit. Right, everyone. I was going to wait until we could compare a sample of Jarvis’s handwriting to the letter received by Amy Clarke, but I’m not prepared to wait any longer. Brian Jarvis is to be arrested on sight. Put out the call, Kate. I’ll head to his home; Mal, you go to the courts with Kate – find him. Come on, Sarah. You can come with me. You too, Ali. Kate will escort Judge Leland and show her to her cell to await interview.’ He gave Kate a glance. ‘You’ll be in charge. I’ll let you start the first round of questions.’
Pleasure winged its way back to him from Kate’s expression. She said nothing, only nodded, but that look said droves about having each other’s back.
30
They drove in silence as they left the Scotland Yard car park but Jack realised Sarah and Ali needed more than his close-held rage. ‘All right, here’s what I’m thinking. Jarvis knows we’re firmly onto him and he will likely take precautions to tidy up loose ends: the car, the iPod, anything else he might have that ties him directly to any murders, like train tickets, parking tickets, receipts, bookings on a computer. He’s smart enough to cover his tracks.’
‘I don’t think he’s trying to get away, sir,’ Sarah hazarded.
He nodded. ‘I don’t either. But I’m concerned about whatever else he thinks he needs to clean up before we get to him. I don’t want any ambiguity once we have him in our lock-up.’ He glanced in the mirror at the ambitious and capable constable sitting in the back. ‘Feeling ambivalent, Ali?’
‘I’m not sure I know what that really means, sir,’ she admitted, and her honesty made him like her all the more.
‘Are you having mixed feelings?’
‘I’m embarrassed to say I am, sir.’
‘You’ll discover more of this as your career progresses. It’s normal. Ask anyone around you how many times they’ve felt torn. It speaks of someone with empathy and we mustn’t lose that or we become robots. Brian Jarvis is a reflection of all of us, including the police force and our constant frustrations and despair at watching serious crims getting off on technicalities, and liberal views that wax and wane depending on the wind. However, take away the emotion and Jarvis is making a mockery of the very justice system he claims to uphold. He is taking lives. A vigilante may be popular but in our book he’s breaking the same laws as those he hunts.’
She nodded. ‘And the judge?’
‘I think we could spend the rest of the day in a philosophical discussion about Judge Leland’s involvement. Nevertheless, it boils down to the same thing. She’s complicit in murder and she is defying everything she swore an oath to uphold.’
‘I’m still . . . ambivalent, sir,’ Ali admitted sadly and won a grin from Jack that she caught in the mirror.
He flicked on the blue lights behind the radiator grille. ‘Best route?’
‘Via Camden Road, sir,’ Sarah replied. ‘Otherwise roadworks will trap us.’
Jack knew she was right – how did she always know these things?
‘Judge Leland asked not to be disturbed,’ the lady at the reception counter explained with a sympathetic smile. She reached for a notepad. ‘Perhaps I could take your—’
Kate flashed her warrant card and Mal followed suit. ‘She’ll see me.’
The woman peered at the cards. ‘Oh, right. Er, well, let me call someone.’
‘No, that’s fine. I know where her office is; we can find our way.’ Kate didn’t wait for the receptionist to splutter a response about how unusual this was. ‘Thank you . . . Hilda,’ she said, reading the woman’s badge.
Kate marched through the courtroom corridors with Mal, retracing her steps from the previous day until she found herself standing in front of the judge’s office. She tapped on the door and waited.
There was no answer. Kate tapped again, a little louder.
‘Judge Leland? It’s Detective Inspector Kate Carter.’ She waited, listening for a rustle or any sound of movement, but it was silent behind that door. Maybe she’d stepped out, gone to the bathroom or headed to the cafeteria.
Kate glanced at Mal, who nodded and she tapped again and this time twisted the door handle, tentatively opening the door. ‘Judge Leland?’ Kate peered into the familiar spacious room, glancing towards the empty desk. She felt a ping of disappointment as much as frustration that they would now have to get over to the judge’s house in St John’s Wood. Another half hour or more through traffic. It also meant a further delay; Jack would not want Judge Leland to go missing altogether.
Kate sighed and turned to leave. Just as she was closing the door, she caught sight of Her Honour Judge Moira Leland on the sofa, presumably having a nap.
‘Ah, nearly missed you there,’ Kate said, more loudly, hoping to rouse the woman, but Moira Leland didn’t so much as shift position. Kate blinked.
Sunshine was streaming through the glass onto the judge’s daringly short hair. ‘Judge Leland?’ she said, her tone much sharper than perhaps necessary. She didn’t stir and Kate felt a current of alarm like electricity flooding her body. She leapt forward, throwing her bag down and crouching by the sofa. ‘Moira?’ She shook the woman who was lying propped up against plump cushions.
Moira Leland’s head, which had been facing the warm sunshine, lolled forward.
‘Shit!’ she heard Mal yelp.
‘No!’ Kate groaned. She shook the judge again, already knowing it was hopeless. Her eyes were closed and her expression grave but serene; she looked all the more elegant in death, and this close-up hinted to Kate at the beauty she’d been several decades earlier.
Kate stood, her mind racing. She sped into the corridor and it was pure luck that she found someone walking by. ‘Contact security and have them come to Judge Leland’s room, please. It’s urgent.’ The young woman frowned, looking indecisive. Kate dragged out her warrant card from her pocket. ‘I’m Detective Inspector Kate Carter and I need security here now.’
The woman nodded and hurried off down the hallway as Kate closed the door and retreated into the quiet of Judge Leland’s death scene. Kate breathed out slowly, calming herself, and took in the surrounds.
‘What do you want me to do?’ Mal said.
‘Organise the security. Check if the staff here have found Jarvis. I’ll preserve the scene here.’
Mal
departed.
She moved over to her bag and turned to a new page of her pad. Her mind was already reaching towards Tottenham: the CID office there would have to be called to secure the scene properly.
She scribbled down some early thoughts and reminders before finding her phone and triggering all the official responses. She would have to use the court’s team to prevent contamination of the scene by distraught staff until the SOCOs arrived to start forensics, photographing everything, bagging and tagging.
With a loud tap at the door, a security guard appeared, looking as though he’d run down the hallways. ‘Is everything all right, miss? A detective told me to hurry.’
She crossed the floor to prevent him going any further. ‘I’m afraid everything is not all right.’
After briefing the shocked guard and insisting he keep details of what was in this room a secret for now, she posted him outside the door.
‘No one enters until the scene-of-crime team arrives. They’re on their way.’
She thanked him as she began dialling Jack to give him the alarming update.
As Kate’s call came through, Jack was turning away from Brian Jarvis’s front door.
‘No one around the back, sir,’ Ali said.
Sarah nodded. ‘No sign of any movement. I don’t think he’s at home.’
‘No, I don’t believe so, either. We’ll need our forensic team down here, though, so we need to secure the house. Sarah, can you ring North London Crown Court just in case he’s gone in?’ He looked at his jangling phone as Sarah nodded. ‘Kate? How are you getting on?’ he answered.
‘Not good.’
‘Oh? Can’t find her?’
‘No, I found her. I’m sorry to tell you, Jack, that I discovered Moira Leland dead in her office at the North London Courts.’
He paused, allowing Kate’s news to zip around his mind like a pinball in a machine . . . it didn’t make sense. ‘Dead?’
‘Not long gone. She’s warm to the touch.’
‘Fuck! How?’
‘Nothing messy. Could have been a heart attack, an aneurysm, an overdose, maybe.’
‘Suicide?’
‘I can’t confirm. There’s no sign of any drugs around – no pills or blister packs. She’d been drinking sherry and the bottle is here. If I had to take a guess, I reckon it was spiked, but forensics will confirm that soon enough.’
‘Murder?’ He sounded like it was an impossible thought. Both Sarah and Ali turned his way, anticipating the worst.
‘Potentially,’ Kate replied. ‘There’s no sign of a struggle, nothing out of place, but the security guard mentioned he signed for a courier arriving with a package for Judge Leland this morning. Soon after, she told the reception to hold her calls, and the way I found her, it looks like she just curled up on the sofa with her glass. I agree that sherry at lunchtime is unusual, but she had no more official duties today at the court.’
‘It’s Jarvis.’
‘My thought too.’
‘I’m sorry you had to find her, Kate.’
‘I liked her. She looked peaceful, though. If he is responsible, then he made sure it was a quiet end.’
‘Is Cook on his way?’
‘Yes. He’ll take her back to Westminster morgue. I might go with her.’
‘Good idea. Let’s get that sherry tested as a priority. See if you can find the wrapping, or some clue as to where it came from.’
‘Right. How are you going?’
‘No success with Jarvis. He’s not at home.’
‘Mal assures me he’s not here either, Jack.’
‘Okay. I’ll keep you posted. Talk later.’ He clicked off and faced his two companions.
‘Judge Leland?’ Sarah asked, still looking shocked.
‘I’m afraid so, and probably Jarvis behind it.’
‘Cleaning up,’ Sarah stated.
He nodded. ‘She was in knee-deep. Perhaps he felt he was doing her a favour. If Kate’s right, then he’s poisoned her, and in the process taken away the terrible decision he knew she’d have faced to either commit suicide or stand up as a criminal in the very courts she presided over for years. He knows she would have had to watch her stellar reputation crumble, give up her tailored clothes for prison-approved trackpants. Imagine it! She’s a powerful person, has the respect of many, so the fall from grace is too much even for Brian to bear. Now he’s made the difficult decision for her. He knows she wasn’t a bad person . . . just a deeply bereaved one, like himself, trying to set the world right.’
‘Does she have to be named, sir?’
‘You want to keep her out of the murderous scenario?’
She nodded.
‘That good heart of yours, Ali, will serve you well. But Judge Leland was complicit. We shall have to see; perhaps the government will want to avoid a scandal, but a crime is a crime, no matter one’s best intentions.’
‘What now, sir?’
‘Get some eyes on Jarvis’s house, Sarah, in case he returns. Kate says he’s not at the courts, but I think we’ll pay them a visit anyway. Someone might know something.’
‘I am sorry, Detective Superintendent,’ Shirley said, looking concerned. ‘Is it urgent?’
‘It is, rather,’ he said, not wishing to reveal their intention.
‘Oh dear, what a terrible day this is. Judge Leland’s passing has been the most frightful shock for everyone. She was always so fit; she was like a beanstalk, ate salads, drank water . . . well, mostly. She was prepping for a big trial that starts in a fortnight.’
‘Brian Jarvis is not answering his phone. Is that unusual, Shirley?’ Jack asked, nodding at Sarah to make her way back to the car. Ali followed, wide-eyed.
‘Yes, most unusual. Brian’s very good at staying in contact but of course he might still be at the courts.’
‘Courts?’ Jack was confused.
‘He was going to the Old Bailey today for a meeting and then I gather he was going for a luncheon, and then a meeting somewhere in Bayswater.’ She glanced at her watch. ‘He would already—’ But she stopped at the alarm that suddenly gripped Jack. She turned as rigid as he appeared. ‘Is something wrong, Detective Superintendent?’
‘You said he was going to Bayswater? Why?’
‘An interview.’
He clasped her arm. ‘Shirley, was he doing an interview with a journalist for Britain’s Voice?’
‘I . . .’ Shirley looked suddenly frightened by Jack’s intensity. ‘I don’t know. I was told lunch, then some lovely young reporter wanted to talk to him about lenient sentences. They were meeting somewhere near Lancaster Gate.’
Jack closed his eyes momentarily. The nagging thought had finally clicked; he could almost hear a satisfying mechanical sound in his mind as it slipped effortlessly into his most feared scenario. He could see a figure in a grey parka. A man, and the hood of his parka was up as he retreated down the street from Lauren’s apartment. So Brian Jarvis already knew about them, knew where she lived, probably presuming rightly that Lauren knew Jack as more than simply a contact on a police op. Jarvis had followed him, no doubt. Jack had led a killer right to her doorstep. No. It couldn’t be happening again.
He reached for his phone as he began to run.
Joan walked into Jack’s office, where Kate was seated behind his desk, lost in assembling all the evidence into a logical order to file and present to Martin Sharpe.
‘There’s a call,’ Joan said.
‘I’m presuming it’s Dr Cook at the morgue? He said he’d call for me to come down.’
‘It’s not. It’s the prison governor at Holloway. She was hoping to speak with Jack, but his phone seems to be permanently engaged.’
‘Go via Sarah. She’s with him.’
‘No, Kate. I think you should take this one.’ Joan stared over her half-spectacles at the flashing light on the desk phone.
Kate frowned and Joan nodded again. Kate picked up the receiver and pressed line one. ‘This is DI Carter.’
M
oments later, her mind spinning, she was pulling on her jacket. ‘Get hold of Sarah, Joan. Find out exactly where they are and then let me know.’
‘Dr Cook?’
‘Redirect him to my mobile,’ she growled over her shoulder. ‘And I’ve told the prison not to call Jack again.’
Kate hit the button on the lift repeatedly even though she knew it made no difference. She gave in to her shock before she gave up and began hurtling down via the fire stairs, angrily wiping away the tears that helplessly came.
‘Where are we going, sir?’ Sarah risked the question. Jack knew he looked unnerved.
‘To Bayswater,’ he said. ‘Seatbelts on. I won’t be slowing.’
‘Sirens?’
He flicked on the flashing lights. ‘No. I don’t want to warn him.’ He began twisting and turning through the traffic, beeping now and then to ensure everyone realised a police car with emergency lights was trapped behind them. Traffic eased to the left and gave him sufficient room to navigate through the late-afternoon crush.
‘Ali, keep trying that number on loudspeaker until you get through.’
They all listened to Lauren Starling repeat her voicemail message as Ali kept hitting redial . . . but Jack had the sickening feeling it was already too late.
Brian Jarvis arrived at Lauren’s home and she buzzed him up, pleased he’d made it.
‘How charming,’ he remarked, swivelling to take in the flat.
‘It’s small but all I need,’ she said. ‘I’ll just put the kettle on.’ She disappeared. When she returned, Jarvis hadn’t removed his parka. ‘Can I take your coat?’ she offered.
Mirror Man Page 35
