The Lost

by Mari Hannah

  Saul Meyr meant business. He was a small man with a hell of a presence, self-assured and with a gaze that would strike fear into any adversary. His first grievance was that his client was being held on suspicion of murder with insufficient evidence. It fell on deaf ears. Money and status meant nothing when a suspect was under arrest and charges were seriously being considered. Alex too had complained vehemently, arguing that her husband would offer himself for interview and not flee the area to avoid being questioned. Stone was having none of it. A dangerous offender had killed two women and almost made it three. Timothy Parker was going nowhere until he said so.

  Despite Meyr’s advice to say very little under interrogation, cracks began to appear in Parker’s story halfway through the interview. After spending hours in a police cell, awaiting Meyr’s arrival, the entrepreneur was sweating profusely, showing signs of withdrawal from the drugs he’d been taking. A suspect with something to hide – who also needed a fix – was good news for the DI. Driven by a strong suspicion that the man across the interview table was responsible for Frankie’s emergency admission to hospital, David went in for the kill . . .

  ‘We never asked your wife if she was the one having an affair with Justine as you suggested in your previous interview because, quite frankly, we don’t believe you. Neither have we told her that money leaving your account was being sent to Kat Irwin, or that your business partner was under the impression that the funds were being used to reduce the level of debt to your company, money Alex had loaned you when the business was formed. However, I’m pleased to hear from DS Oliver that you finally had the guts to come clean about your affair with your sister-in-law. Isn’t it time you fronted up about the rest?’

  ‘My client has nothing else to say,’ Meyr said.

  ‘All the same, I’d like to hear that from him.’

  Parker glanced at his brief.

  Meyr shook his head.

  The prisoner looked at the floor. Thinking time. When he raised his head, his eyes flitted between Stone and Abbott in jerky movements. What would he come up with this time? Stone wondered. Faced with the prospect of a night in the cells, Parker had shrunk in stature since being brought up for questioning. Within the walls of the interview room, he was just another punter who, from the DI’s point of view, was in deep shit.

  ‘You were in Kat Irwin’s flat on Friday the first of July, weren’t you?’

  Again, Parker glanced at his brief.

  Meyr leaned in and whispered quietly in his ear.

  ‘No, Saul, I have to end this.’

  More whispering.

  More soul-searching.

  Despite the fortune his counsel was costing, Parker was under tremendous pressure to clear himself. No amount of advocacy costing anything between a thousand and five thousand pounds an hour was touching him. He was teetering on the brink of an admission and Stone wondered why he’d asked Meyr to make the trip from the capital if he had no intention of taking his advice. Unless Alex was behind it. She was the one with all the cash.

  Parker was practically squirming in his seat. ‘I was there in Kat’s flat, but I swear she was dead when I arrived.’

  Meyr intervened. ‘Tim, I strongly advise against saying any more.’

  ‘I have to, Saul. They’ll find my DNA and jump to the wrong conclusion.’ Parker switched his focus to the detectives. ‘You know I lied about Justine. I’m not lying now.’

  In his head, Stone was at the crime scene with that three-dimensional image of the apartment, the positioning of the bloodstains on light wood flooring reminding himself that there had been no break-in.

  ‘How did you get in?’ he asked.

  ‘I have a key.’

  ‘Describe the scene for me.’

  ‘Excuse me?’

  ‘You said Kat was dead when you arrived. Tell me exactly what you saw.’

  ‘She was lying face down on the living room floor.’ Parker shut his eyes, trying to remember. Or perhaps making out that he was. ‘There was a lot of blood. I thought she’d fallen. She has this coffee table with a marble top. Italian. I never liked it. I was always worried that Ali would hurt herself on it. Kat was more relaxed about it.’

  ‘You thought she’d struck her head?’

  Parker nodded. ‘There were no signs of a struggle. If she’d been attacked, believe me she’d have fought like a street kid.’

  ‘Unless she was familiar with the person and turned her back on them.’

  There was panic in Parker’s eyes. This looked bad for him and he knew it. Stone had to hand it to him: so far, his account was spot on. At the crime scene, Frankie had theorised that Parker might have set the alarm off to ensure that Ali was found. The child was traumatised, unable to say anything to the specially trained officers interviewing her.

  ‘Did you check if Kat was dead?’ Stone asked.

  Parker shook his head. ‘It was obvious.’

  ‘How would you know if you didn’t check?’

  ‘I wasn’t touching her, was I?’

  The tension was building in the room.

  Stone remembered the way the light shone through the windows on two sides of Kat’s living room highlighting blood spatter on a pristine leather sofa. ‘Why not?’ he said. ‘Accidents happen. If she was still breathing, you might have saved her life.’

  ‘She wasn’t.’

  ‘You didn’t care if she was dead or alive, did you? In fact, her death put an end to your leaking bank account and the chance that she might one day turn on you and confess all to Alex.’

  ‘My client told you it was obvious Ms Irwin was dead, DI Stone.’ Meyr didn’t lift his head, much less the expensive pen from his notepad. ‘Can we move on?’

  That ten-second sentence cost Parker a tidy sum. Meyr got paid for what he did in court, not during interview. He was a charismatic man, able to swing the most sceptical jury. According to Kyra, no litigation lawyer could touch him.

  ‘Where was Ali at this point?’ Stone asked.

  ‘In her room. Well, in the doorway. Jesus! I was in chunks when I saw her standing there. I will never forget the look on her face.’ Parker was losing it. ‘She’ll remember what she saw for the rest of her life. I can only hope she didn’t think I had anything to do with it.’

  ‘Did you speak to her?’

  ‘No. I just took off.’

  Stone glared at him. ‘She’s three years old and you left her there with her mother lying dead on the floor?’

  ‘I left the door open and started a fire alarm on my way out. There’s a caretaker in the building. I knew he’d check it out and find her—’

  ‘With respect, you knew nothing of the kind.’ Stone paused, waiting for Dick to stop making notes. ‘What if the caretaker had stepped out for half an hour? What if Ali had wandered out of the apartment alone?’ Justine’s burning car was in Stone’s head. ‘What if there had been a real fire?’

  Even Meyr looked dumbfounded by his client’s stupidity.

  ‘I wasn’t thinking straight.’ Parker began to wobble. ‘There’s a coffee shop over the road. I waited there to make sure that she didn’t walk out of the building. Why d’you think I was terrified when you lifted me from the plane?’ It was the most genuine thing he’d said since he sat down.

  ‘Why did you run?’ Stone asked.

  ‘Why do you think?’

  ‘I could think of one good reason.’

  ‘No! I lied to you about Justine and was found out. I was scared that you’d think I was responsible for Kat’s death. You obviously do. I’m linked to both women. It was over with her, I swear. If she hadn’t—’

  ‘Hadn’t what?’

  ‘If she hadn’t got herself pregnant we’d have ended our fling and that would have been that and I wouldn’t be sitting here professing my innocence. I ran because I’ve been set up, Detective Inspector. You m
ust see that. First with Daniel’s disappearance and now these two murders. I swear I had nothing to do with any of this. I may be weak, contemptible even, but that’s all I am.’

  ‘Why did you go and see Kat if your affair was over?’ Stone was expecting him to say for access to his child, but he didn’t . . .

  ‘While she was on holiday, Kat called me. She’d decided to come clean about Ali.’

  ‘To Alex?’

  ‘Yes. Prior to that, Kat and I had an arrangement. She’d leave me out of it providing the money kept coming.’

  ‘So what changed?’

  ‘She’d been getting closer and closer to Alex in the last couple of years and had come up with a plan to tell her that she’d adopted a three-year-old. That was the only conceivable way she could deal with the problem that we’d created. She’d even considered coming north now her divorce was finalised so I could see my child more often, albeit as Uncle Tim. I love my daughter – and Kat too, even though we’re no longer together.’

  ‘Even though she was milking you?’

  ‘Financing a child’s upbringing isn’t the same as looking after one. Kat was doing all the hard graft and making a real fist of it. Ali offered her stability. Kat’s never had that. Without her, I’d be childless. Being a father means everything to me.’

  ‘And Alex couldn’t make that happen—’

  ‘We’ll try again . . . If she’ll let me.’

  Meyr’s head popped up. ‘Relevance, DI Stone.’ He was making a point, not asking a question.

  Stone ignored him as if he wasn’t there. ‘Kat Irwin was putting a strain on finances that were already stretched, Mr Parker. The way Curtis tells it, you two are heading for financial ruin. That alone gives you motive. If Kat was about to blow the whistle, you just gave yourself another.’

  ‘I was happy to pay her. A year ago, I was making a mint. It was easy to cover the cost. Then things went pear-shaped and I couldn’t hide it any more. Curtis found out. He threatened to tell Alex.’

  ‘And did he?’

  ‘Not that I’m aware of.’

  Stone wasn’t so sure. He had his doubts about her involvement. ‘You said you’d been set up. By whom?’

  ‘I don’t know. Curtis has been acting weird since he realised where the money was going. His divorce from Kat was acrimonious. She left him, not the other way around . . . I don’t think he ever got over it. He’ll tell you different, but it’s bollocks.’

  The more Stone delved into Parker’s background, the more he found. Most of the evidence against him was circumstantial. The case was building but it needed to be watertight. At his own admission, he was at the scene. He had means, opportunity and motive, but Stone remained unconvinced. With little progress made, he ended the interview to consult with Frankie, if she was up to it, and lodged Parker in a cell.

  72

  Parker wasn’t the only one ignoring sensible advice. When Stone reached the incident room, Frankie was at her desk as if nothing untoward had happened the day before. She was concentrating hard on her computer screen – images of some sort – and didn’t see him walk in. Anticipating a row, Dick raised an eyebrow as David crossed the room, a slight shake of the head.

  ‘I did try and talk her out of it,’ he said quietly. ‘I can’t repeat what she said to me.’

  Stone rolled his eyes. ‘How did she get here?’

  ‘On her broomstick, probably . . .’ Dick grinned. ‘She discharged herself, told officers on guard duty to stand down and asked for a lift.’

  ‘They didn’t argue?’

  ‘Would you?’

  David approaching Frankie from behind. The skin around the staples on the back of her head looked red and inflamed. The rest of her hair reminded him of his nan’s old cat whose fur had become matted due to old age. He’d sat for hours detangling it. Unlike the feline, Frankie didn’t care about her dishevelled appearance. Work was obviously more important. She still reeked of petrol.

  He leaned over. ‘Would you like to step into my office, DS Oliver?’

  ‘In a second.’ She didn’t look up. ‘Let me finish this first.’

  ‘Shall I call Windy?’

  ‘Boss, I—’

  ‘Now, Frankie!’

  *

  Irritated by the interruption, Frankie sat down in the chair to explain her presence. ‘I appreciate your concern, I do, but the consultant was happy to discharge me on the proviso that I had someone at home to keep an eye on me.’

  ‘According to Abbott, you discharged yourself.’

  She grimaced. ‘Technically—’

  ‘Either you did or you didn’t.’

  ‘Gimme a break – you’re not my dad!’

  ‘And I suppose you failed to mention that the “someone at home” was a teenager with the nous of a three-year-old.’

  ‘Don’t be mean. Ben’s trying really hard.’

  ‘He’s trying . . . and so are you.’ David admonished her with his eyes. ‘When were you going to tell me that you’d offered him a bed?’

  ‘When you stopped being a pain in the arse.’ Frankie was unconcerned that he’d found out about her temporary house guest. ‘I’d have got around to it . . . eventually.’ She was experienced enough to pick the battles she could win.

  Timing was key.

  Stone shook his head in a gesture of frustration. ‘As it happens, I drove over to your place to catch up with Ben last night. It’s the first time I’d seen him look decent in ages. Well, I say decent, he came the door wearing a baby blue undersized dressing gown I presume was yours, his hairy arse on show.’

  Frankie laughed.

  Stone didn’t need to mention that the moment had provided not only relief from a very bad workday, but respite from the infighting that had dogged the relationship with his nephew since Luke died. Last night at the hospital, he’d witnessed a demonstration that family were good and kind. In times of trouble, they pulled together, not in opposite directions. Frankie wasn’t stupid enough to think that no other type of family existed on the planet. In her police career, she’d seen many split up with devastating consequences, often involving violence, even death. She’d seen good in Ben where he had not. It was a lesson he might benefit from. Maybe if he gave a little, Ben would too.

  Frankie was in full work mode, keen to share new information. The first thing she’d said to him last night, other than ‘my head hurts’, was work-related. She’d asked whether Mitch had found images on the database showing the milometer in Justine’s car. He had, but Stone had steered her away from the subject, refusing to discuss it. It wasn’t lost on him that these were the very same photographs she’d been looking at in the incident room a moment ago.

  ‘What is it about Justine’s mileage that’s so fascinating?’ he asked. ‘I checked the computer this morning. There’s one photograph showing 98,252 miles on the clock, so what?’

  Frankie sat up, suddenly animated. ‘When I went to see Alex yesterday, I noticed her car on the driveway. It had been moved, David. There were deep ruts on the gravel where she’d come and gone. The vehicle was parked in a different position, I was convinced of it.’

  ‘So you nipped up to Scots Gap to investigate without telling me.’

  ‘OK – I’m sorry. That doesn’t negate the fact that the reading I saw was 98,888. I made a photographic record. It’s on my phone.’

  ‘I’m sorry to rain on your parade, Frankie. Forensics found your phone – or what was left of it, in Justine’s torched car.’

  ‘Really? I thought you’d find it in the woods. I was sure it was in my hand. Could the phone they found be someone else’s?’

  ‘The evidence is gone, Frank. Fried beyond belief.’

  ‘But my brain isn’t.’

  She seemed sure of her facts but Stone had more to say on the subject. ‘Without proof to back it up, any self-respe
cting barrister will pick holes the size of Texas if we put that evidence forward in court. You know as well as I do, they’ll question you mercilessly under oath, twisting your words, making out that you’re unfit to give a credible statement after being found unconscious. You sustained a nasty bang on the head.’

  ‘I know what I saw, David. And if my maths are correct I’d say that the discrepancy is a return trip to London, wouldn’t you? Which means that neither Curtis or Parker is the culprit. They both flew to London on the day Kat died. That’s indisputable. But someone else drove.’

  73

  There was silence in the incident room as Frankie recounted her tale to the Murder Investigation Team. Despite her injuries, she was close to wrapping up their case. ‘If Justine’s car was used to travel down to London to kill Kat Irwin, only one person could have used it.’ Not one detective disagreed. She was pointing the finger directly at Alex Parker and was holding cards she hadn’t yet shown. ‘The keys were in the car when I arrived there yesterday and yet they were handed over and signed for by Tim Parker following forensic examination of the vehicle. I have a statement from the officer concerned to that effect. He’ll swear under oath that the car was left locked and secured on the Parkers’ driveway.’

  ‘Makes you wonder how her parents died,’ Mitch said.

  ‘Alex wasn’t responsible,’ Stone replied. ‘They were in St Lucia, a boating accident. The British Consulate contacted us. We delivered the death message and she flew out there to repatriate their bodies.’

  ‘Well, she can’t have killed Kat,’ Mitch said. ‘She was at work all day Friday. Put it this way, she went in the front door at seven thirty a.m. and left at six thirty p.m.’

  ‘That’s time enough,’ Frankie said. ‘If she got her foot down.’

  ‘She’s right,’ Stone said. ‘Mitch, check if there’s a rear entrance to her business premises.’

  ‘I already did that when Justine died,’ he said. ‘There’s an alarmed fire exit at the rear of the office not covered by CCTV. She could’ve sneaked in and out unseen.’