by A. J. Cross
‘Right.’ Reynolds’ pen sped, some of the words making sense, others bypassing him. ‘Are you able to say anything about her as a person?’
‘Why do you ask?’
He stopped writing, his pulse-rate climbing. How to respond? That the police needed to know all that there was to know about anyone victimized by violent crime? That it was an important part of procedure to build a complete picture of all those involved, in whatever context? He looked up at Wells.
‘I’d appreciate an answer to my question, sir.’
Another smile. ‘Of course. Molly is honest, which hardly needs saying. She’s a friendly co-worker. She works hard and she’s reliable. I know that if I hand Molly a project, it will be done thoroughly and within any deadline required. You’re welcome to talk to other employees whose work brings them into contact with her. It’s a small circle. Molly has an assistant she works closely with and that’s about it.’
‘No one else?’
Wells shook his head. ‘Not that I can think of. Sometimes when that assistant is ultra-busy, Molly takes any basic jobs she wants done to our general admin worker. Unfortunately, she left three months ago. We have a temporary worker who replaced her but I’m not sure how informative she might be given the relatively short time she’s been here.’
Reynolds stood. ‘I’ll see Mrs Lawrence’s assistant first and then the temp.’
Wells reached for his desk phone. ‘I’ll alert them. There’s a vacant office next door. You’re welcome to use it.’
Ten minutes later, Reynolds was sitting facing a weeping woman, trying to recall anything from his training which might move the situation on. Nothing was coming back to him.
‘Mrs McBride, I’m sorry to have to ask you these questions, but we’re all working very hard at headquarters to find whoever did this to Mrs Lawrence and her husband. This is the only way we have of getting information which might help us do that.’ He searched for inspiration. ‘How about I ask somebody to make you a drink?’
She shook her head, applied a tissue to her face. ‘No, thanks. I’m sorry I’m wasting your time here.’
‘No—’
‘Molly wasn’t only my immediate boss. She was my friend.’ The tears continued.
Reynolds gave her an uncertain look. The crying was making him feel uncomfortable. Like, each time his mother watched Sleepless in Seattle. A life raft of words arrived in his head.
‘Might it help if you talk about her as your friend?’
She sent him an unsteady smile. ‘You’re very kind, very astute for such a young officer.’ She took a breath. ‘When I say Molly is a friend, obviously I’m several years older and we don’t socialize, beyond a glass of wine if it’s been a particularly hard day, but I suppose I take a motherly interest in her, which she seems to like. Her job here is very demanding, you see. My job is to make her workload easier by providing whatever she needs. She doesn’t have much opportunity to speak to her other colleagues but she does talk to me sometimes about herself … her life.’
Reynolds saw the woman’s mouth tremble and silently willed her on.
‘Molly and her husband were such a happy young couple. I’m not aware that they socialized much, probably because Mike, that was her husband … Oh, you know that, sorry. They were both so busy, with demanding careers.’ She smiled. ‘When I was doing up our house a couple of years back, Molly actually brought in some lovely sketches he’d done to give me ideas.’ She smiled. ‘Busy as he was, he’d actually done them for me. Wasn’t that nice of him?’
Reynolds nodded, steeling himself for more emotional outpouring.
‘You’re aware that Mrs Lawrence was pregnant,’ he said, his eyes fixed on his notes, listening to another emotional onslaught.
‘Yes. She told me, of course, although she didn’t say much about it. Well, you don’t when you’re only a few weeks along. All she did say was that they were both very pleased and, typical of Molly, she reassured me that she would be working from home as soon as she could after the baby was born … and be back in the office after her maternity leave.’ She sighed. ‘She told me about the date they had for the scan. She and Mike had agreed that they didn’t want to be told the baby’s sex.’ She looked up at Reynolds. ‘One of my hobbies is crocheting, so I made them a blue and pink baby blanket.’
‘Is there anything else you’d like to say which you think might help me – the police?’ McBride shook her head.
‘Mr Wells mentioned a general admin worker who might help.’
‘She left weeks ago.’ She looked at Reynolds. ‘There’s a temp but I doubt you’ll get anything useful from her. She’s been here no time.’ Seeing him waiting, she added, ‘Her name is Eunice Sowden. Shall I send her to you?’
Chin propped on one hand, Reynolds was making quick notes from the stream of words coming from the woman sitting opposite him.
‘And I can tell you that this isn’t the friendliest of places to work. I’m not interested in office gossip, so I just get on with what they give me to do. Being a temp here, I feel like I’m invisible and—’
Reynolds looked up at the fast-moving mouth, searching for the words which would get him out of here and back to headquarters. ‘Mrs Sowden—’
‘Ms.’
‘Sorry. You’re saying that you’re unable to say anything about Molly Lawrence and anyone else who works here—’
‘Did I say that? You weren’t listening.’
Reynolds frowned at her then at the words he had written.
‘You just told me that this place isn’t friendly, that you just do your work—’
‘It sounds to me like you haven’t had a lot of training.’
The words scythed through Reynolds’ head. If Watts could hear this. He looked up at her, saw the contempt, suspecting that he was looking at what Judd referred to as ‘bitchface’. And something else. Avidness.
‘If you have information, Ms Sowden, you need to give it to me.’
Sowden leant on the desk towards him. ‘The woman you’re asking about, this Molly Lawrence, she’s a bit of a looker, know what I mean? The clothes! I never saw anything like it. She comes in here looking like she’s part of a fashion show or something, although a baby would have put a stop to—’
‘You’re saying that Mrs Lawrence was inappropriately dressed for work?’
‘To my way of thinking. Too expensive. Me, I wear basics to come here.’ Reynolds eyed the beige and black. ‘If it’s good enough for me, it’s good enough for them, is my motto.’ She pursed her lips. ‘She’s the sort who’s all work. No time for basic pleasantries or a bit of a chat. In fact, at times I found her very off-hand.’
Recalling Watts’ words, he said, ‘I need you to be more specific, Ms Sowden.’
She gave him an irritable look. ‘I’m telling you, she’s very demanding. She wants everything the way she wants it, when she wants it. Everything has to be done just so. No doubt the others who work here will tell you how great she is. I believe in telling things like they are.’
‘Isn’t it a part of her job to make it clear how she wants things done and when?’
She stared at him. ‘How would you know? I’ve worked for her. There’s something else. You have to be careful around her. We had a big rush on a few weeks back. Roger Kemp, this other accountant, because that’s what she is, despite the fancy title she’s got, he was up to his ears in work and she did some bits and pieces for him and then, I overheard her telling Wells, the boss man here, that she’d done the lot!’ She sat back, arms folded.
Reynolds was now avoiding looking at her. ‘I’ll speak to Mr Kemp.’
‘You can’t. He left soon after. I keep a low profile around her but once or twice when I took stuff to her office, I’ve heard her on the phone.’
‘And?’
‘She wasn’t talking to her husband, if you get my drift.’
‘No, I don’t. What was she saying?’
She rolled her eyes. ‘It wasn’t what she was saying, i
t was how. The tone. The way she was whispering and smiling.’
‘If you didn’t hear any words, how can you be sure it wasn’t her husband?’
‘Because nobody I know talks to a husband like that!’
He closed his notebook, wanting rid of her. ‘Ms Sowden, if you have something to say about Mrs Lawrence, something which doesn’t come under the category of office gossip, I want to hear it.’
A few minutes later, the door opened. Wells leant into the room. ‘Sorry for the interruption, PC Reynolds. Eunice, I’m still waiting for that report I gave you to type.’
She stood. ‘I’ve been tied up here, talking to him.’
She marched past Wells and out. Wells watched her go, turned back to Reynolds. ‘My advice is to be cautious about anything Eunice told you. Women such as Molly, attractive, well-dressed, with a good job, plus a husband, Eunice views as … well, I don’t quite know how to phrase it—’
‘Personal criticism?’ said Reynolds.
He gave the young officer a surprised look. ‘Exactly.’
Reynolds was back at headquarters, reading what he’d got from the visit on his screen. The conclusion section was incomplete. He’d brought back two conflicting pictures of Molly Lawrence, one of them positive, the other from a dark, acid place. He re-read both, then reached into his holdall for a book which had been part of his brief engagement with his university course. Consulting the index in a couple of places he flipped pages, wondering if he should add what he was reading. Why not? It chimed with what he was thinking.
Returning to the conclusion, his fingers flew over the keys. Ending it with a question mark, he pressed send.
He was reflecting on his interviews with Molly Lawrence’s colleagues when Kumar came into the incident room. ‘You’re looking pleased with yourself, Tobes.’
‘I am … I think.’
4.30 p.m.
Watts looked around the packed incident room. ‘Now we’ve got Molly Lawrence’s agreement, we can crack on with Will’s plan.’
Chong said, ‘The Lawrences’ Toyota has been moved out of the Forensic Test Area and is completely covered. There’s no chance she’ll see it.’
‘Adam?’ said Traynor. ‘How’s it going with the stand-in for it?’
‘We’re working to the same dimensions and shape as the Toyota. How does a pale grey colour sound?’
‘I’d say ideal for keeping emotional responses to a minimum.’
Watts looked around at his officers. ‘Will says this is our best chance. To me, it looks like our only chance. Anything you want to add, Will?’
‘Only that those of us directly involved in the re-enactment need to monitor our own facial expressions and body language. I’ll introduce the scene to Mrs Lawrence because she knows me. We maintain an air of calm. If, say, a video camera malfunctions, we continue with the camera that is working. No drama. No stress. No fuss. If Mrs Lawrence exhibits signs of distress, we take our lead from her. If she wants to stop, we stop. It proceeds at her pace. If she is unable to take us through the whole event, we’ll have recorded whatever she is able to give us, which could still move this investigation forward.’ He looked around the room. ‘Any questions?’
Jones raised his hand. ‘What happens if Mrs Lawrence shows even small signs of being affected? Or Chloe, for that matter.’
‘Just focus on yourself, Jonesy,’ she snapped.
‘Leave those concerns to me. I’ll be monitoring her responses throughout,’ said Traynor.
At the edge of the room, Reynolds raised his hand. ‘Will it ever be shown on television?’
Watts mustered patience. ‘No, Reynolds. No TV.’ He looked away then back at the young officer. ‘Did you do what I asked you?’
‘Yes.’
‘Email me your information.’
‘Already done, Sarge.’
‘Good. I’ll read it when I get a chance.’ Watts looked at each of them. ‘Does everybody directly involved in this plan feel up to this, know what’s expected? Good. Back here at seven a.m.’
TWENTY-SEVEN
Saturday 22 December. 8 a.m.
The huge Forensic Test Area was a scene of quiet, understated activity. Watts and Judd watched Traynor and Julian in deep discussion, one or other of them raising an arm, pointing, nodding. The Lawrences’ Toyota had been replaced by a pale grey, to-scale, two-dimensional, featureless outline which Julian was manoeuvring into position. Checking it, he stood back, held up his hand, palm to Traynor. After a brief pause Traynor’s palm made contact. He moved to the middle of the huge space.
‘Officers Kumar and Miller are due to arrive with Mrs Lawrence in the next few minutes. She’ll be otherwise unaccompanied.’ They watched him scrutinize the space, raise his hand to Julian who moved the facsimile of the car forward a little and nodded. ‘We’ll begin with an initial walk-through by PC Judd with Mrs Lawrence. Once Molly is familiar with the set-up she will take control of the re-enactment, guiding us through what only she knows happened. If it becomes apparent that she’s at a loss, PC Judd will prompt her, using agreed wording.’ Judd gave a quick nod. ‘If Mrs Lawrence does become distressed or appears unable to continue for any reason, we bring the re-enactment to an end without any physical or verbal indications of disappointment. Everyone clear?’ Traynor’s phone pinged. He looked at it.
‘She’s arrived.’
The door of the test area swung slowly open. Miller and Kumar appeared, followed by Molly Lawrence. Subtle glances showed how pale she was. Feeling guilty about her recent outburst of criticism against this woman, Judd watched her, now seeing what she hadn’t fully realized at the hospital: Molly Lawrence was a beautiful woman. As Traynor went to her, Judd’s eyes skimmed her dark navy coat with its narrow waist and full skirt, the dark tights, low-heeled suede shoes, and felt a quick rush of envy, followed by an even quicker surge of guilt. She listened to Traynor’s words to Molly, saw him raise his arm and point.
‘Those two officers over there have video cameras to record the action as you direct them.’ She nodded. He indicated the grey outline of the car standing nearby. ‘This is for you to refer to as you relate whatever you recall. Your sole task here is to show us what took place.’
The team watched her walk slowly forward, Judd thinking it was very possible that they could all be out of here within five minutes. Molly looked at the facsimile for a few seconds, turned to Traynor.
‘Where’s our car? I expected it to be here.’
‘We thought a representation would be less distracting.’
‘Yes. Of course.’
Judd headed slowly and quietly towards them, hearing him say, ‘You can start your recall at any point which suits you, Molly. If you need to stop, that’s fine.’
Seeing Judd approach, she smiled at her. With a nod to the grey outline, she asked Traynor, ‘Could I just walk around it? Get used to it not being real?’
‘Do whatever feels right for you, Molly.’ The SOCOs’ cameras were now running. ‘Take a walk around the whole space, if you wish. As soon as you feel comfortable, tell me and I’ll go—’
‘You’re not leaving?’ She stared up at Traynor, her eyes huge.
‘No. Nobody’s leaving. PC Judd will be with you the whole time and I’ll be over there with Detective Inspector Watts.’
She looked at Judd, at the ‘car’ outline, then up at Traynor. ‘I’m fine. I can do it. I’m ready.’ He moved away. Judd arrived at her side. Looking directly into one of the cameras, Molly took a deep breath. ‘OK, this is just a model, but I’ll use it to show you what happened.’ She beckoned to the videoing officers to follow her.
‘I’ll start with the inside.’ She went closer to the grey shape, pointed. ‘Here is where the passenger seat was. Mike was in the driver’s seat … and … there were movements around here.’ She pointed to the area in which she was standing next to the driver’s door ‘And, a man, the man, shouted at the window, right here, but before anything else happened’ – she pointed – ‘he mov
ed around to the other side. He moved really quickly.’
Peripheral gazes were on this small woman describing the catastrophic event which had left her bleeding and her husband dying. Traynor watched, his face devoid of expression.
‘That’s when the rear door of the car opened. He got inside and … a voice shouted for Mike to do something and … Mike turned to look at him … he had a gun.’ She was silent for several seconds, her eyes fixed on the grey cut-out. ‘There was a scream. Mike swore. He reached forward, turned the key in the ignition … he wasn’t thinking straight. The man yelled at him to stop the engine.’ She moved, raising her hand. ‘He waved the gun.’ She turned to the nearest video camera and gave a faint smile.
‘Come closer.’ She gestured to one of the officers with a camera. ‘He’s now sitting in the middle of the rear seat. Right about here’ – she spoke over her shoulder, eyes fixed on the facsimile – ‘and something was said. He said to be quiet. He demanded valuables; said he wanted my handbag by my feet on the floor of the car.’
Traynor was now listening intently.
‘The valuables went inside it.’ She looked straight to camera.
‘All except my watch and phone. He took the bag and … then he … did something … to me and Mike got angry … and … that’s when he shot Mike … He shot him again. The man leaned forward …’ She lowered her head, lifted it again. ‘There was a flash, a sudden, sharp impact, a burning sensation and … heat flowing down.’
Watts took a quick look around. The officers’ faces were expressionless, most not looking directly at her.
‘It gets hazy here … He had Mike’s phone in his hand.’ She shook her head. ‘I don’t know what happened next … but after a while … I managed to call to emergency services.’ She stopped, looked to Traynor.
Judd asked, ‘Is there anything else?’
