by Gwyn GB
By the time Claire is ready to go, Rachel is looking a little better. She’s explained how to use the panic alarm and made her promise that she’ll call if the stalker returns. Claire leaves with the letter for forensics, she’ll take it in with her in the morning.
It’s only as she’s heading towards home that she starts to think about Jack - or rather the lack of Jack.
35
Unknown, 17th October 2016
It’s useful being someone that people don’t look twice at. It means you can meld into the background, walk along a street and not be noticed. It means that you can survey a house and not be seen by the police officer who is pandering to the whimpering bitch.
She’s got them wrapped around her finger. If she thinks she’s winning this round, that the game is over, then she’s got a big surprise coming.
Rachel Hill will pay for her past.
36
Claire, 17th/18th October 2016
There are little reminders of Jack around the flat. He’s forgotten his toothbrush for one thing, and Claire comes across a black sock curled up under their bed, her bed, forgotten and festering. The place looks tidier and definitely feels bigger now it’s less cluttered. She feels able to breathe and stretch. The TV almost looks naked without its network of wires and gadgets coming out of it. The glass shelves on which it sits had been full of hand sets and controls, PS4 games and DVDs, but now there’s just their ghostly outline in dust.
She has to admit that the walls look a bit bare. Were they always like that? She’d moved in here first, been in around a month or so before Jack joined her permanently. Were the walls really that barren back then, or had she got something of her own hanging there, something that reflected her character? When he moved in was it relegated to a cupboard and replaced by the huge bright canvas of multi-coloured skulls which he loved so much, but which left her cold?
She looks in the storage cupboard at the back of the bedroom, even that is now half empty without Jack’s sports stuff. She tries to remember what’s in the boxes, if there are any pictures stored in the darkness. She finds nothing but the vague memory of Jack coming back to the flat one day with the canvas and saying it would fill the empty wall. That was in the days when she couldn’t wait to rush home to him and their life together.
Now, there’s no one to watch Game of Thrones with, or to share a meal or glass of wine. The endless possibility of quiet nights on her own, fan out in front of her. Does it worry her, being alone? How will she fill her after-work hours now the social whirlpool that is Jack has gone? Right now Claire doesn’t know, but she isn’t worried about it either.
He’s right of course, she isn’t ready to settle yet. She may be thirty-three but she can’t hear her body clock ticking - maybe she won’t. It’s best for both of them. She wouldn’t make him happy. Maybe she never did.
Back in the living room/kitchen, she remembers the last ‘gathering’. There were about twelve of Jack’s friends. She was there too - that cow Lara Phillips. They’d talked until Lara had got too drunk to make any sense. Claire had swirled around them, clearing up empty beer bottles, making tea, putting pizzas on. In the middle of it all had been Jack. Jack the comedian, Jack the best game player. Jack the one everyone wanted to be with. Claire had watched it all and she had felt a stranger in her own home, more alone than she feels now. They were Jack’s friends, it was Jack’s gathering and the lure of Jack, the essence of him which they all love - and she had too once, that no longer had any draw.
She settles herself on the sofa but doesn’t turn the TV on. A forgotten book catches her eye on the coffee table, probably uncovered when Jack took his car and football magazines. He never liked her reading, always said it was unsociable even though he’d sit gawping at the TV all evening if they didn’t have people round.
First things first though, she calls her parents. Her mum picks up.
‘Hello love,’ her mum cheerfully answers, ‘We’re fine, managed to burn my wrist on the oven, but it’s nothing serious. Are you coming back at Christmas? That ice rink at Fort Regent isn’t going to be on this year, someone else is doing a little one on the Weighbridge. There’s a petition online to persuade them to put it on, if you want to sign it?’
‘It’s OK mum, I’m not that bothered about ice skating, it’s just something to do. I’m not even sure about Christmas yet, it’s going to depend on work.’
‘How is work?’ her mum asks.
‘Very busy, I think I might have uncovered a serial killer. It’s not definite yet, but it could be a huge case.’
‘Really? A serial killer?’ her mum turns away from the phone now, ‘Phillip did you hear that? Claire has uncovered a serial killer.’ Claire hears her dad murmur in the background, ‘I’ll pass you on to your father love,’ her mum says to her, ‘Well done.’
Claire hears her mother heave herself out of her chair and pass the phone to her dad.
‘Hello Claire,’ her dad answers now, he has his policeman voice on.
‘Hi dad, obviously I can’t talk about it, but I was just saying to mum that the murder enquiry I’m on at the moment, it looks like I might have uncovered a serial killer.’
‘You uncovered it?’
‘Yeah, someone said something to me and I investigated it, gathered some evidence and now we’re looking at six plus deaths.’
‘Good work. Make sure your ACC knows that, and make sure it goes on your record and your DCI doesn’t take the credit.’
‘Oh no he wouldn’t do that.’
‘Don’t be so trusting Claire. This could be a big boost to someone’s career, immediate promotion. You could be running your own investigation and he might not like a woman promoted to the same rank as him, especially a younger one.’
‘Dad there are plenty of women DCIs now, he’s very supportive.’
‘What people say and what people do aren’t always the same thing. What does Jack think? He not up for a promotion yet?’
Jack’s rank, at Sergeant, and one rank below her, has always been a bit of an issue with her dad. One thing she’s not going to do is ruin her evening by telling him Jack’s left. Of course, there’s the possibility he might not think that’s a bad thing, but she isn’t prepared to take that risk.
‘Probably soon. So how’s the golfing handicap going?’ Claire deflects the conversation and her dad is happy to talk about himself for a few minutes, before abruptly deciding he needs to go as The Great British Bake Off is just about to start on TV.
Claire sits in the silence, letting it settle her until her stomach rumbles become too distracting. Then she cooks the ready-made meal she’d bought for Jack last night before curling up on the sofa with the book, reading until her eyes become too dry and tired to continue. An hour later she takes herself to bed, momentarily thinking about the possibility of some new exciting sex at some point in the future, before the tiredness swamps her and she slips into sleep.
The next morning she wakes to find she has spread herself diagonally across the bed. It was a good sleep, no interruptions from snoring or having someone else moving around in bed next to her. She feels positive and energised and bounces into work.
‘We’ve got a lead on Sandra Jennings,’ Lew is already at his desk when she arrives, ‘I sent that agency staff photo to the real Sandra’s parents, turns out they were childhood friends. Her name is Carly Watson, we’re trying to trace her now.’ Lew looks delighted with his find.
‘Brilliant, anything on the system for her?’
‘Domestic abuse three years ago. She was knocked up badly, the partner got sent down for 18 months. We’re trying to track him down now too. He’s out.’
‘Good, progress at last,’ Claire smiles at Lew. This is the most they’ve spoken since Jack left. Yesterday was just one big awkward silence. ‘Want a coffee?’
As soon as she’s said it she wishes she hadn’t. Getting a coffee will mean going to the canteen and the prospect of seeing Jack or that bitch Lara. Still, she isn’t g
oing to be scared or embarrassed to walk around. She’s going to bump into them sometime.
The sometime, as luck would have it, appears to be now. She spots them the second she walks in. The two of them are by the far window, backs to her. Lara has her hand on his shoulder and she’s stroking the back of his head. He looks so happy and relaxed. Opposite them are a couple of Jack’s colleagues and one of them quickly spots Claire. His eyes indicate that he’s noticed her. Lara’s hand immediately drops down to cradle her coffee cup and she sits self-consciously at the table.
Claire isn’t sure whether she likes this reaction or not. What it does do is prompt the group to break up. Lara leaves first, discreetly saying goodbye and slipping round the back of the food counter to avoid going anywhere near Claire. Then Jack and his colleagues get up to leave. As they draw level he stays back and diverts over to Claire while they walk on ahead.
‘Catch you up,’ he says to them. ‘Hi Claire, how are you doing?’
‘I’m fine. You?’
‘Yeah good. Just wanted to see if you’re OK that’s all.’
‘Sure. Course I am, thanks.’
He seems to be waiting for her to say something else, but she doesn’t. She concentrates on handing over some cash to the woman on the till.
‘OK, see you around then.’
He smiles at her, the Jack smile. The smile that won her over when she first met him. Fit body with a Paul Newman smile. The scent of his aftershave tugs memories from the back of her mind and she allows herself a quick look at his retreating back.
Then she picks up the coffees and gets on with work.
37
Claire, 18th October 2016
Felicity Baxter is next on their list of agency staff to interview. They’d tried to speak to her yesterday but apparently, she’d been too busy. It had taken some persuading, but Felicity finally made her way to their interview room where Claire and Bob found her typing on her mobile phone.
The room is already heaving with her perfume and it’s immediately clear what she spends most of her wages on.
‘Give me a mo,’ she says to them, barely lifting up her mascara-laden eyelashes. ‘I’m just emailing a recruitment dude. Looks like I’m job hunting thanks to you lot.’
Not surprisingly Claire feels Bob arch his back and breathe in deeply next to her.
‘Miss Baxter, we are conducting a murder enquiry and while we appreciate you taking the time to come in here and talk to us, it would work in your favour as well as ours, if you were to give us your full attention.’
She looks up now.
‘My favour?’ she queries.
‘Yes,’ Bob replies curtly, ‘At present all staff and clients of the SoulMates agency are potential suspects.’
‘Oh come on, there’s no way you can think I would have killed Neil! Why would I?’
Neither Bob nor Claire answer, the suggestion has served its purpose and her mobile phone is in her handbag.
‘How long have you been with the agency?’ Claire breaks the tension.
‘About four years. I’d been a hair colour technician before that but was having problems with the chemicals so I thought it would be a good change. You know what it’s like as a hairdresser, you end up hearing all your clients’ personal problems anyway so it wasn’t that much of a leap.’
‘Do you get on with everyone at the agency? Staff?’
‘Yeah. Eddie’s a sweetheart, he’s like I wish my dad was - do you know what I mean? The rest of them, they’re alright. Not people I’d hang with but they’re OK.’
‘How about Sandra Jennings?’
Felicity shrugs and thinks.
‘Fine. A bit intense, doesn’t talk much, but you know…’
‘Rachel?’
‘She’s sweet, loves her animals. Bakes nice cakes.’
‘And Gary?’
‘Gary’s Gary. Can be a bit stressy at times, but he’s fun.’
‘Have you been aware of any deaths among your clients, besides Neil?’ Claire changes tack now.
Felicity thinks, ‘Yeah there’s been a few, but no murders,’ she shrugs, ‘We’ve got about two hundred and sixty clients at the moment and most of them are like in their forties and fifties, you’re bound to lose some right?’
Bob bristles again which makes Claire smile. He’d been an absolute nightmare last year when it was his fiftieth birthday. Just couldn’t get his head around the fact he’d reached half a century.
‘Did you know Neil?’ Bob asks now.
‘Not really, he was Gary’s client. I’ve obviously seen him on the system, he was matched with some of mine. Nice looking bloke.’
‘So you’ve no idea who he was seeing, if he had any issues with anybody at the agency - staff or clients?’
‘No. There’ll be records of who he booked dates with, but nobody really mentioned him or anything. Oh, the only one who I do know is a pain is Rosa McKenna. She’s a right cow.’
‘We keep getting Rosa McKenna’s name mentioned.’
Bob and Claire are standing in the corridor after Felicity Baxter has left, getting a bit of fresh air.
‘I went round to see her. She was home alone when Neil was killed so no one to corroborate her alibi, but I didn’t pursue it because we’d been looking for a man. She was also helpful in giving me the names of clients who have died.’
‘Have you checked to see if she’s got any links to our friend in Vietnam, Michael Stratton?’
‘No.’
‘Well get on to it, get cross-referencing everyone we have on that board, double check all their alibis and see if we can find any connections.’
Bob disappears off for some peace in the Gents bathroom and Claire slinks back to her desk. There must be a pattern, something to join the dots.
38
Claire, 18th October 2016
‘We’ve got her.’ Lew rushes over, a huge grin on his face. ‘They’re bringing in Carly Watson aka Sandra Jennings, now.’
‘Excellent,’ Bob says, ‘Progress at last.’
It’s the first smile Claire’s seen on his face all week. Earlier she thought he was going to have a heart attack. He was on the phone to somebody at the Embassy in Vietnam and clearly getting more and more frustrated by the fact they didn’t seem to be making much effort to find Michael Stratton. He’d gone into the countryside on some tour, well away from Wi-Fi and the hand of the law - apparently!
Claire marvelled at how despite the incident room being packed out, the entire team have managed to avoid going anywhere near Bob’s desk for the last hour - perhaps the survival techniques they teach at the training academy really do work.
Two hours later, once Carly has finished with the duty solicitor, Bob and Claire walk into the interview room. Claire is buzzing, could this be the moment the investigation really takes off?
Carly Watson looks a whole heap different to the calm and organised Sandra Jennings. The neat figure of eight hair style has been replaced by a scruffy ponytail. She’s cried away most of her make-up and is pale, red-eyed and distinctly petrified. Question is, who is she scared of?
‘Before you ask my client any questions, she would like to make a statement,’ the solicitor next to her begins as soon as the recording is on.
She’s a small grey mouse of a woman but with the eyes and stare of a hawk. Carly sitting next to her hangs her head.
‘Carly Susan Watson would like to apologise for the inconvenience and any distress she has caused. She fully admits that she has been living under a false name, but this was not for any criminal purpose and no financial gain has been made. Carly was subjected to years of brutal domestic violence at the hands of her former husband, Mark Farley. He was sentenced to 18 months in jail but has since been released. Carly fears for her life and that of her daughter and it is for that reason, and that reason only, that she decided to hide from Mark Farley with a false name.’
Carly’s solicitor looks up from reading out the statement, ready for the interview to begin.
‘If you hadn’t committed a crime, why did you run as soon as we visited the agency?’ Claire jumps right in. It can’t be that simple, Carly must have something else she’s hiding.
Carly looks up at her.
‘I panicked. After I spoke to you I realised that you might investigate the agency and discover I’d been lying about my name. I was also worried the newspapers might get involved and he’d see me somehow,’ she sniffs, rubbing her nose on the back of her hand. ‘You’ve no idea what it’s like to live in fear every day of your life, to worry every time you drop your daughter off at school in case he finds out where we are, snatches her, hurts her. You see these cases on the TV, where some jealous or spiteful ex-husband murders the children to get at the wife. That’s my worst fear and I know he’s capable of it.’
‘You could have asked us for help.’
‘What could the police do until he’s threatened or attacked us?’
‘When you spoke to me you could have explained the circumstances rather than running.’
‘I didn’t want to get Eddie into any trouble. He’s such a lovely guy, he’s been an absolute rock for me.’
‘So Mr Scott knew that you were living under a false name?’
‘I wasn’t doing anything wrong. He wanted to help me, to protect us.’
‘Are you and Mr Scott having a relationship, Carly?’ Bob asks now.
‘No, it’s not like that. He’s just a genuinely nice person. He’s not interested in me in that way.’
‘So you don’t have any issues, let’s say, with people who are in relationships or men generally?’
Carly looks shocked now, ‘No. No, of course. I don’t. I know not every guy is like Mark. He is a complete bastard. I thought working there might restore my faith in men actually.’
‘And has it?’ Claire’s curious.
