“I am happy to look after Simon,” Mrs. Rowlands interjected. “If Brenda agrees, that is, and wants to view Helen’s body. He knows me, so he’ll feel safe. I can take him home, and you and Brenda can collect him later. And if they both need a room for the night then I’ve plenty of space.”
“That’s very kind of you,” Jane said gratefully.
“It’s the least I can do under the circumstances. Are you going to tell Simon about his mother’s death now or later?”
Jane thought for a moment. “Now is probably best. I’m not sure if Mrs. Matthews is up to it, but I best ask her if she wants to.” Jane walked over to Mrs. Matthews. “Would you like to tell Simon about his mother? or I can, if you want?”
Mrs. Matthews looked pale as she shook her head. “I’m sorry, I just can’t do it … Please could you tell him for me?”
“Of course.” It was what she had expected Brenda to say. But Mrs. Rowlands sensed Jane was anxious and quietly asked if she was OK.
“Yes, it’s just a new situation for me. I’ve informed adults about the loss of a loved one many times during my career, but never a child.”
“I can do it if you like, officer. I have had previous experience in these types of situations.”
“Thank you. But as Brenda has asked me to, I feel I should.”
Mrs. Rowlands smiled. “You’ll be fine. The best way is to be caring and use words that are simple and direct. I’ll go and get Simon.”
Jane nervously rehearsed in her mind what she was going to say as she waited for Mrs. Rowlands to return with Simon. In her desire to get it right with Simon, she had forgotten about how traumatic it would be for his grandmother, so sat in the chair next to her.
“I know you must be dreading this, Brenda, but we all need to be strong for Simon. I’m not going to tell him anything about what happened to his mum, just that she’s passed away.”
Mrs. Matthews nodded, and Jane told her about Mrs. Rowlands’ offer of a room for the night and to look after Simon if they went to the mortuary.
Just then Simon came into the room, with Mrs. Rowlands holding his hand. The small blond-haired boy looked a picture of happiness as he shouted out: “Nana” with a big smile that revealed his braces. He bounded over to his grandmother and gave her a big hug. As Mrs. Matthews hugged him back she couldn’t control her emotions and started to cry.
“Why are you crying, Nana?” Simon asked, his smile turning to a curious frown.
Mrs. Matthews pointed a trembling finger at Jane. “This is Jane, Simon. She’s a police lady and wants to speak to you about Mummy.”
“Is Mummy in trouble?” he asked nervously, with a noticeable lisp.
Jane crouched down to his height, smiled and put her hand out. “Mummy’s not in trouble, Simon.”
Simon stepped back from Jane and looked at his grandma.
“Is Mummy in trouble because of me, Nana?” he asked, his bottom lip quivering.
Mrs. Matthews forced a smile. “It’s OK, Simon. Jane is a nice lady and has been very kind to Nana.”
Simon looked at Jane, who held her hand out again, and this time he took hold of it.
“Nana’s crying because something’s happened that’s made us all sad.” Jane paused to take a deep breath.
“Is Mummy sad because I shouted at her?” Simon asked as a tear rolled slowly down his cheek.
Jane squeezed his hand, struggling not to cry herself. “No, Simon, you’ve done nothing wrong and Mummy loves you very much. We’re sad because Mummy had an accident and has gone to heaven.”
Simon looked confused and didn’t reply. Jane wondered if he’d understood what she’d said.
After a few moments, he said, “Only dead people go to heaven. Is my mummy dead?”
“Yes, Simon, and she’s with God now, who will be looking after her,” Jane replied, her voice choking.
He looked quizzical. “Why did Mummy die?”
Mrs. Rowlands crouched down beside Jane. “Jane doesn’t know yet, Simon, but although Mummy’s gone to heaven, she will always be here in your heart.” She gently touched his chest with her hand before continuing. “And Nana will look after you now, just like Mummy did.”
Simon turned and looked at Mrs. Matthews, who stepped forward and hugged her grandson, whilst struggling to control her emotions.
“Nana has to go with Jane for a while,” she said, squeezing Simon tightly.
A panicked look came into Simon’s eyes. “Where are you going, Nana?”
“Mrs. Rowlands is going to look after you and I’ll see you later. OK, sweetheart?”
Simon clung to his grandmother. “I want to come with you, Nana,” he cried.
“We can do the viewing tomorrow,” Jane said.
“I’d rather do it now, thank you,” Mrs. Matthews insisted, trying to gently detach herself from the weeping Simon, who wouldn’t let go.
Mrs. Rowlands knelt beside him. “You can come and see my house, Simon, and have whatever you want for your supper. Do you like ice cream?”
Simon turned, looked at Mrs. Rowlands and nodded. “Do you have chocolate flavor?”
Jane made a quick phone call to the mortuary before leaving the school, and told the coroner’s officer she was bringing Brenda Matthews over to identify the unknown victim, who was possibly her daughter.
Once in the car, she decided to broach the subject of Eileen Summers’ murder.
“I know it’s been a harrowing day for you so far, but I’ve some other sad news I have to tell you.”
Mrs. Matthews looked dejected as she stared out the car window. “What can be worse than my daughter’s death?” she muttered.
“There have been three murders so far, Brenda—not two, like you thought. The most recent happened on Monday evening, but the body wasn’t discovered until Tuesday morning in a hostel in East Dulwich.”
Brenda slowly turned and looked at Jane. “Who was she?”
Jane was saddened that she assumed it was another woman. “Simon’s teacher, Eileen Summers.”
Brenda’s breathing became shallow. “Oh God, no … Not her as well. Simon adored Miss Summers.”
“Mrs. Rowlands had reported her missing. She didn’t want to worry the children so said she was ill. Obviously, Helen and Eileen are connected through the school.”
“Who’s the other victim?”
“A woman called Sybil Hastings. Does the name mean anything to you?”
Brenda shook her head.
“Did Helen and Eileen socialize together?” Jane asked.
“I don’t know … they might have. Helen rarely went out, and if she did I’d usually look after Simon for her.” Fresh tears came as she spoke about her daughter.
There was so much more Jane wanted to ask. What was the connection among the three women? What dark secret had led to their deaths? But for now all that would have to wait.
Chapter Fourteen
Pulling up in the small car park at Ladywell mortuary, Jane reflected on how it had become like a second work place over the last few days. Guiding Mrs. Matthews through the double doors, Jane took her to the waiting room and informed the coroner’s officer she was here to identify the body. He told Jane that DCI Moran was currently in the chapel of rest with Eileen Summers’ parents, who had travelled down from Manchester. Jane hadn’t expected him to be at the mortuary, and realized she’d forgotten to phone him with the news that Helen Matthews was their unidentified victim. Jane asked the coroner’s officer if he would inform Moran that she was with Brenda Matthews in the waiting room, and having seen a photograph of Helen Matthews, Jane was one hundred per cent certain she was their hitherto unknown victim. He said he would and left.
Jane returned to the waiting room and sat with a pale-looking Mrs. Matthews. She explained the viewing procedure and the fact that Mr. and Mrs. Summers were presently viewing their daughter’s body.
The waiting room door opened and DCI Moran walked in with Eileen Summers’ parents. Mrs. Summers was wiping her e
yes with a handkerchief already sodden with tears, whilst her husband held her by the arm, the effort of keeping his emotions in check obvious from his haggard expression.
Jane stood up. “Brenda, this is DCI Moran, who is leading the investigation.”
Moran took her limp hand in his. “I’m deeply sorry for your loss, Mrs. Matthews. Myself and my officers are doing everything we can to find the man we believe is responsible for these horrendous crimes. If you’ll excuse me, I just need to have a quick word with WDS Tennison.” He tilted his head to one side for Jane to follow him.
Moran closed the door and walked a little way down the corridor before turning around and facing Jane.
“I’m sorry I didn’t ring you, sir, but Mrs. Matthews didn’t have a phone, and I had to take her to the school to see her grandson, Simon. I’m certain our unknown victim is Helen Matthews. Her nine-year-old son Simon is in Eileen Summers’ class at Southfield Primary.” She felt the emotion of it all welling up again. “Telling him his mother was dead was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done.”
Moran put his hand on Jane’s shoulder. “You’re doing a good job, Jane. Cases like this get to us all, one way or another. Being compassionate and listening to people shows you care, and in turn makes you a better detective. Just don’t allow your emotions to affect your work or cloud your judgment.” He opened his notebook and began flicking through the pages.
“I spoke with Mr. and Mrs. Summers before the identification. Eileen spent half term with them and told her mother she had concerns about a boy in her class being abused.”
“My God, was it Simon Matthews?”
“Eileen never divulged any details about the boy or his family to her parents. Apparently, she did speak with the boy’s mother and told her the child had become withdrawn at school, and his classwork was not as good as usual. The mother dismissed Eileen’s thoughts as rubbish and stormed off.”
“So, it could have been Helen Matthews who Eileen Summers spoke to.”
“Under the circumstances it seems likely, but we can’t know for sure.” Moran tapped his notebook with his pencil. “It’s strange—Summers didn’t say anything to Mrs. Rowlands, the headmistress?”
“If she had, I’m sure Mrs. Rowlands would have told me. Maybe Eileen was worried she might lose her job if she was wrong,” Jane suggested.
“Either way, the abuse issue needs to be resolved. Get a statement from Brenda Matthews with as much detail as possible about Helen, her acquaintances and relationship with Simon.”
Jane gasped. “Are you suggesting his mother was abusing him?”
Moran shrugged. “I didn’t say that, but it can’t be ruled out. We also need to find out if Helen Matthews knew Aiden Lang.”
Jane could see that was a valid point, but wondered if there was more behind it. “Are you thinking Lang may have abused Simon?”
“He could have had access to Simon if he knew Helen Matthews. Gibbs interviewed the accountant, who admitted paying Lang for oral sex in the toilets at Hampstead Heath.”
Jane rolled her eyes. “And therefore, being a homosexual, he must also abuse children?”
“No, not necessarily, but he could have a liking for young boys as well,” Moran said defensively.
Jane thought back to Moran’s advice about not letting your feelings cloud your judgment. But it seemed he had convinced himself that Lang was responsible for all the murders and sexually abusing Simon Matthews.
“On that basis, it doesn’t make sense that Lang, as a homosexual, would rape two of his female victims,” Jane argued.
That seemed to be the last straw for Moran. “What’s your bloody problem, Tennison? In my time in Vice I came across men who swung both ways—particularly rent boys doing it for the money.”
“I wasn’t challenging you, sir,” Jane insisted. “Just giving an alternative viewpoint. Like you said yourself, Eileen Summers’ abuse fears could be wrong. When I first saw Simon he seemed quite happy, until I told him about his mother.”
Moran glared at her. “How many abused children have you dealt with in your short career?”
“Well, none yet, but—”
“People who abuse children always scare them into silence. I want you to interview Simon, but not on your own. Get social services involved. They deal with this sort of thing regularly and can assist with the interview. They can also arrange counseling for the poor lad after all the trauma he’s been through.”
“Yes, sir, I’ll get a statement off Brenda after she’s identified her daughter’s body,” Jane said brusquely, turning to walk away.
“I haven’t finished yet,” Moran snapped. “Do you have an address for Helen Matthews?”
“Yes, sir.” She opened her notebook to the relevant page and handed it to Moran, who wrote the address down in his book.
“I’ll get Lawrence to check the address out for any forensic evidence that might help us.” He tossed Jane’s notebook back to her.
The morgue attendant approached and told Jane the body was ready for viewing. He apologized about what had happened before and said he’d done a better job this time. Jane thanked him and said she’d be a couple of minutes.
Jane and Moran returned to the mortuary waiting room. Brenda Matthews and Mrs. Summers were sitting holding hands and consoling each other, unified in grief. Then Moran ushered the Summerses out with him, leaving Brenda Matthews staring disconsolately at the wall.
Jane took a deep breath. “I know this will be hard for you, Brenda, and you can spend as much time as you want with Helen. I will be with you, but if you want to be alone with her, that’s fine.” From the distant look on Brenda Matthews’ face, Jane realized she hadn’t heard a word. She stepped into her line of sight. “Are you OK, Brenda? We can go and see Helen now, if you’re ready.”
Mrs. Matthews answered in a flat voice: “Mrs. Summers said her daughter had been raped and strangled. Did he do the same to Helen?”
Jane had planned to divulge this information after the viewing and now regretted it. “The pathologist couldn’t be certain about any sexual assault, but it’s possible she was.”
Brenda Matthews started to retch, but as she hadn’t eaten since breakfast, there was nothing in her stomach to come up. It was another five minutes before she was composed enough to go with Jane to the chapel of rest.
Helen Matthews’ body had been well prepared by the morgue attendant. He’d closed her eyes, washed her hair and face, and arranged the shroud neatly so it concealed the strangulation marks on her neck. Although her skin was pale, Helen Matthews looked as if she was in a peaceful sleep. Jane gave the attendant a nod of approval.
“Is this your daughter, Helen?” Jane asked, trying to keep her voice steady.
Mrs. Matthews nodded. Jane had expected her to break down, but she remained composed as she leant forward and kissed her daughter on the forehead. She then removed her wedding ring and lifted the shroud from Helen’s side, revealing her right hand.
“I wanted her to have this when I died.” She placed the ring on her daughter’s right ring finger and kissed her one last time.
After the identification, Jane took Mrs. Matthews to the bereaved interview room at the mortuary. It was sparsely furnished with just a desk, four chairs and white painted brick walls. The heat blasting from the large cast iron radiator made it stuffy. Jane opened an A4-size notebook, placed it on the table and took her pen from her jacket pocket.
Brenda Matthews watched her forlornly. “Will the statement take long? I should be with Simon.”
“I’m just going to take some notes for now, then write your statement up later. I can bring it to you to read over and sign tomorrow.”
“Thank you.” Her voice was almost a whisper.
“If you want, I can speak with the victim support organization, who can help you and Simon through this terrible ordeal,” Jane offered.
“I can’t afford anything like that, but thank you for offering.”
Jane smiled. �
��It won’t cost you anything, Brenda. They’re a new national organization, and have trained volunteers. They offer practical and emotional support to victims and witnesses of serious crime.”
“If you think it would help me and Simon,. then yes, I’d like to speak with them.”
Jane nodded. “I think it would be good to share your feelings with someone who’s not connected to the investigation.”
Sooner or later, Jane was going to have to tell Brenda Matthews that Simon might have been sexually abused. Her first instinct was to wait until Mrs. Matthews had recovered from the shock of seeing her daughter’s body, but she knew there was no “good” time to deliver this disturbing news.
“What I’m about to tell you is quite distressing. We have reason to believe Eileen Summers was concerned about one of her male pupils being abused. Obviously Helen and Eileen Summers are connected through Simon, so it’s possible—”
Grief turned to anger as Brenda Matthews interrupted her. “How dare you suggest my daughter abused her son! Helen was a good mother and worked hard to provide for Simon. She’d never even smacked him and hardly ever raised her voice. Now if you don’t mind, I want to see Simon.” Brenda stood up and pushed past Jane. “I’ll make my own way to Mrs. Rowlands.”
A flustered Jane got up and followed her. “Brenda, please listen to me, I don’t believe for one minute it was Helen. I know it’s a difficult subject to discuss, and the last thing I want to do is upset you. My concern is if Simon was abused, it could be connected in some way to Helen’s murder.”
Mrs. Matthews turned around sharply. “If Simon was being abused, Helen would have told me.”
“If Helen did know, or just suspected, she may not have wanted to upset you. Please … there’s just a few more things I need to ask. Then we’ll finish, and you can be with Simon.”
Reluctantly, Brenda returned to her seat and Jane sat down opposite her.
Murder Mile Page 18
