by Joy Ellis
Joseph nodded soberly. ‘Sir? Do we think it was the same person who put the warning note in that woman organiser’s pocket? Was the threat a real one, and DI Galena the intended victim all along?’
‘I think so, don’t you, Sergeant?’
Joseph thought that Greg Woodhall’s voice had suddenly lost its power. The enormity of the situation had hit even the superintendent.
‘I do, sir. And believing that, I’ll see if the lab can get anything else from that note.’
‘Okay, do that. So, all of you, get on with it. We’ll meet again at four this afternoon, unless we have a breakthrough.’ He stood up. ‘And I pray that we do.’
* * *
‘Do you really think that DI Galena was the intended mark, Joseph?’ Gill Mercer was sitting in Nikki’s chair.
Joseph nodded. ‘She had to be. I mean, look at the coincidence factor if it wasn’t her. We uncover a warning note telling us to stop the vigil, we refuse, and our DI disappears.’ He threw up his hands. ‘Plus, she was a friend of Helen Brook. She had to be the intended target.’
Gill Mercer’s face was a mask of concentration. ‘Why not the woman who received the note in the first place? Why not her?’
‘She was there on the night, and no one laid a finger on her.’
Gill tipped her head on one side, ‘Because they couldn’t, could they? You said that Niall and Jessie were practically super-glued to her arse all evening.’
Joseph was unconvinced. ‘You mean the killer couldn’t get to his intended target, so he took Nikki instead?’
‘Maybe. What do we know about the woman?’
‘Nikki told me that her mother had been under Helen Brook’s care until her death a short while ago. She left a cheque for a considerable sum of money to Helen but, well, she was murdered before Miss Duchene could deliver it. She finished up giving it to the Willows Clinic. The family appears to be pretty well off.’
‘Do you know anything personal about her? Like why someone might want to hurt her?’
‘Not really, other than the fact that she’s apparently loaded.’ He ran his hand through his hair. ‘I think I’d better get Jessie and Niall. If they were with her all evening they must have talked about something.’ He stuck his head out of the door and called to the two officers.
‘Carla Duchene. Can you tell us about her? What happened at the vigil?’ Joseph looked at Jessie and saw that the old spark was back in her eyes. ‘You stayed with her all evening. What did you talk about?’
Jessie shrugged. ‘She said nothing about herself. It was mainly about the vigil and the people who had organised it. She was gobsmacked at the size of the turnout.’ Jessie thought for a moment then added, ‘She told us how much her mother had admired Helen Brook. The old lady gave up on regular doctors when they said her cancer was terminal. Apparently she put all her trust in Helen, and was at least positive and comfortable in her last months. One of the therapists from the clinic stood with us for at least half an hour, but she didn’t even seem happy talking to him. Frankly, I don’t think she was in the mood for idle chat. She was nervous and jumpy all evening. That note had really got to her.’
‘But she stayed to the bitter end?’ DI Gill Mercer asked.
‘No, ma’am. It got too much for her. Niall and I took her home just before eleven o’clock.’
Niall nodded. ‘She wanted to stay, but the crowds were so much bigger than she had anticipated. As Jessie said, they finally got to her.’
‘So you drove her home?’
‘Not exactly, ma’am. We escorted her back to her car, then followed her, just to make sure she was safely indoors.’
‘Where does she live?’
‘Oh, not far from the Waterway, ma’am. Glebe Avenue. Very posh drum. We were back at the vigil in less than fifteen minutes. Then Niall helped Yvonne with dishing out the flowers and I got stuck in with the public relations.’
Gill Mercer was silent for a while. Then she said, ‘Has anyone spoken to her about Nikki’s disappearance?’
Niall nodded. ‘I did, ma’am. I rang her myself. I didn’t want her frightened by seeing it on the news or in the morning paper.’
‘How did she take it?’
‘She was pretty shaken, guv. Kept saying that she knew that note was not a hoax.’
‘And what about keeping an eye on her? I suppose, with everything else going down, she’s been left out in the cold.’
Joseph frowned. ‘That’s a valid point, and rather worrying. All available manpower is being used to search for the DI.’
Gill took a long, deep breath. ‘Ring her, Sergeant. Now, please.’
Joseph didn’t like where the inspector’s thoughts were heading. ‘I’ll get her number.’
Niall flipped open his pocket book. ‘I’ve got it, Sarge. Here.’
The phone rang on for an eternity, then a recorded voice spoke. “I’m sorry there is no one here to take your call. Please leave your name and number and we’ll get back to you.”
‘Answerphone,’ Joseph muttered.
‘Hang up.’
He put the phone down and looked at Gill enquiringly.
‘Get round there, Joseph. Take Niall. He knows where she lives. Ring me immediately you know she’s safe.’
The two men stood up and hurried from the room.
* * *
Gill Mercer and Jessie left the office and joined Cat in the murder room.
‘While we are waiting for Sergeant Easter to ring in, the two of you check out everything you can about Carla Duchene, especially regarding anyone who may benefit if she dies.’
Cat drew in a breath. ‘Do we believe she’s in danger too, ma’am?’
‘Anything’s possible. Have we heard from Eric Barnes yet?’
‘No, ma’am. He’s not at home and his mobile is on voicemail. DC Jamie Dean has left messages everywhere.’
DI Mercer rubbed her hand across her forehead. ‘Jesus! This is one enormous cock-up, isn’t it? It’s bad enough when anyone goes missing, but when it’s one of your own . . . Oh shit! I’m sorry, Jessie. Me and my big gob! You’ve been in this very situation for the last year, haven’t you?’
The younger detective sighed. Then she smiled. ‘Well, that should be a lesson to everyone. I haven’t given up on Graham, so we certainly are not going to give up on the boss. We’ll find her, I know we will.’
While the two women trawled through the files, Gill Mercer returned to Nikki’s office and sat behind her desk. It seemed appropriate somehow. It was Nikki’s investigation, so it should be conducted from her office. She looked around the plain, business-like room, and Nikki Galena’s things. She examined the photos: a teenager, an elderly man wearing military ribbons, and a dog-eared old photo of a group of what looked like RAF types, all with glasses in their hands, raised in salute. Other than an unnaturally healthy houseplant, the room was bare of knick-knacks — no clutter. She stared at the plant. ‘Bet you wouldn’t dare to even drop a leaf, let alone die.’ There was nothing here that would help her find her colleague. Even the mountain of paperwork on the desk was orderly, and apart from a small pile of memo notes, the surface was clean. Gill didn’t even like to put her coffee mug down, so she held it to her chest.
The noise of her phone almost made her drop it.
Joseph’s voice was full of emotion. ‘DI Mercer? Looks like you were right! Miss Duchene didn’t answer the door, and as her Peugeot is still in the drive, I effected an entrance. She’s not here, ma’am.’
‘Any signs of a struggle?’
‘None, but her mobile phone is still on the kitchen table, along with her handbag and purse. Nothing touched, nothing stolen. Bed not slept in.’
‘Okay. I’ll tell the super and get the SOCOs over there immediately. Close off the scene, Joseph, and you and Dave get back ASAP.’
‘Roger.’
Gill snapped her phone shut. This was going from bad to worse. She stood up and pushed the chair back just as the desk phone rang.
It was the desk sergeant. ‘DI Mercer? I’ve got Eric Barnes on the line, ma’am. Can I put him through to you?’
‘Yes, yes,’ she said impatiently. ‘DC Barnes?’
‘Ma’am, I’ve just heard the news! What’s happening?’
‘Where the hell are you?’
‘On my way to my brother’s in Nottinghamshire, ma’am. I heard it on the radio. DI Galena? Is she really missing?’
‘Damn right she is. And you were probably the last person to see her!’
‘Oh shit! I’ll turn round, ma’am. I’m on my way back.’ The line went dead.
Gill threw the receiver back into the cradle and, cursing under her breath, strode out to find Superintendent Woodhall. ‘And put your fucking foot down, sonny boy, because I just can’t wait to talk to you.’
* * *
‘The name Duchene rings bells somehow.’ Cat frowned and looked hopefully across the desk at Jessie. ‘Any thoughts?’
‘Nope. Can’t say it does, and I’ve certainly never seen her before all this happened.’
Someone on the far side of the room called out, ‘Did you say Duchene?’
Both women looked up. The owner of the deep, rasping voice was a uniformed officer on loan from Spalding. He raised his eyebrows and smiled apologetically. ‘Sorry to butt in, but I know of an Esther Duchene, if that helps.’
Jessie sat back in her chair. ‘That would be this woman’s mother. She died quite recently.’
‘I know, and so does any local who likes wildlife — birds in particular.’
‘She’s famous?’ asked Cat.
The constable walked over to them. ‘Could say that. She was one of the best ornithological photographers of her time — well, any time really, although she’s probably better known for her work on conservation. It was down to her that the Flaxton Mere nature reserve was saved. Owls and herons were her speciality. Oh yes, and she wasn’t only a renowned photographer. She was the granddaughter of some Victorian adventurer. Made a fortune out in Africa, I think.’
Cat put a hand to her temple. ‘Of course! That’s it! There was a programme about her on TV not so long ago.’
‘And there was a big write-up in the local papers after she died,’ added the constable.
Cat nodded to him. ‘Thanks for that. I’m not sure how it helps, but it means there may have been some serious dosh in that will of hers.’
She turned back to Jessie. ‘And if it all went to her daughter, Carla?’
Jess tapped in a few words on her keyboard. After waiting a moment she looked up from the monitor and said, ‘Mmm, it certainly looks that way. I’ve got a potted bio here on Google. Esther was widowed quite young and she had two children, Carla and Jonathan. The boy was killed in an accident when he was ten, so that just leaves Carla.’
‘Who is probably a seriously rich woman now.’
‘A seriously rich, missing woman.’ Jessie shivered. ‘God! Do you think Helen’s murder and the guv’s disappearance is all some sort of smokescreen for actually getting to Carla Duchene and her money?’
Cat frowned. ‘A bit extreme, but I suppose it’s possible. Let’s get some concrete evidence about Carla Duchene’s finances before we go to the DI. I’ll check out the family solicitor, you keep digging up anything you can on Carla herself, okay?’
‘I’m already on it, but hell, I don’t like this one little bit.’
* * *
Gill Mercer looked around her colleague’s office and wondered if she had made a mistake by trying to work there. Without Nikki’s huge presence, the room seemed sepulchral, almost sinister. Gill shivered and began leafing through a pile of Nikki’s reports. She smiled ruefully as she stared at the fastidiously prepared notes. Nikki’s handwriting was clear and neat. Gill wondered if she got it from her RAF father.
‘Hello, who’s this guy?’ She was reading through the record of Nikki’s meeting with Dr Sam Welland from the Willows Clinic. ‘A hypnotist, huh?’ She recalled his name being mentioned as having worked on the vigil committee with Carla Duchene. Her brow furrowed. Maybe he’d know where the Duchene woman was. She turned back a page and scribbled down his number. Worth a try, she muttered to herself.
Sam Welland answered almost immediately. ‘No, sorry, Inspector, I haven’t seen her since the vigil. Actually I was going to ring her after we heard about your DI Galena going missing. Dreadful business that. Poor Carla was terrified after she received that awful note, but it seems that she wasn’t the intended target after all, was she?’
Gill did not answer. ‘Do you know Miss Duchene well?’
‘Hardly at all. Don’t think I spoke two words to her until she gave us that donation from her mother, and then offered to pay for the flowers for the float, of course.’
‘And her mother? You knew her, surely? She was a patient at your clinic, wasn’t she?’
‘Oh yes! She was Helen Brook’s client but we saw her regularly. Now she was a wonderful woman, a really lovely lady. I say, Inspector, is there a problem? I mean . . . is Carla missing as well?’
Gill Mercer’s response was guarded. ‘We just want to talk to her, Dr Welland. As she wasn’t at home, we are checking around, that’s all. If you hear from her I’d be grateful if you’d contact me.’ She gave him the number, then added, ‘Is it doctor or mister? I just had the name Sam Welland on my memo.’
‘It is doctor, Inspector. I was fully qualified before I decided to go the complementary route.’
‘Oh, and for the record, Doctor, what sort of car do you drive?’
He sounded perplexed. ‘Oh, eh, a Landrover Discovery. I know it’s hardly an ecological statement, but if you saw where I live, right out on the marsh, you’d understand. Why do you ask?’
‘Just eliminating tyre tracks, sir. Please don’t worry yourself, and thanks for your time.’
She carefully replaced the handset. Another four-by-four. Perhaps she’d add him to her list of suspects. After all, he knew Helen Brook, Carla Duchene and Nikki Galena. Something about the conversation bothered her slightly. Something about his way of referring to Carla, compared with his obvious fondness for her mother. It really didn’t sound as if he liked her very much. Now, why would that be, she wondered, especially after the woman had landed him with a load of cash? Maybe she should go visit the hypnotist. She would like to see if his eyes said anything different to his lips.
* * *
Not too many miles away from the station, Nikki fought to stay awake. She was scared that if she slept, her captor would slip into the darkened room and administer another dose of whatever insidious drug she’d been given in order to get her here. She was still weak as a kitten, and although a tiny amount of feeling had returned to her legs, they still refused to support her. She felt drained, but her life could depend on keeping her eyes open. Desperate to keep her mind active, she made herself recite the names of her fellow trainees from police training school. Then she went on to schoolfriends, classmates and friends in general. Then she came to Helen Brook and changed the subject. Okay, countries this time, A to Z. Argentina, Austria, Angola, Australia, Andorra, Africa, Afghanistan. Somewhere between Nepal and Norway, she fell asleep.
* * *
Something akin to fear had arisen in the Fenland police station. The officers went about their business, but there was a hint of desperation in their actions. Voices were either too loud or little more than a whisper. Most of the time a stunned silence prevailed. They grabbed a little sleep as and when they could, but most were either too hyped up or too worried to rest.
‘I think you should know that I have had a memo from higher up. They want me to keep Oliver Kirton’s involvement strictly to ourselves.’ The superintendent was still pacing, and Gill Mercer began to wonder how long it would be before the underlay showed through Nikki’s office carpet. Then she realised what he had just said.
‘Well, that’s bloody ridiculous! Uncle doesn’t want anything nasty rubbing off on him, I suppose.’
‘Frankly I hav
e to agree with you, being one of the few higher-ranking officers without a funny handshake and a weird apron. And the more this goes on, the more I wish I’d kept him in the slammer.’
Gill Mercer massaged her temples. ‘Well, close surveillance has been set up for all of them, sir. Oliver Kirton, Titus Whipp, and now Dr Sam Welland and one or two other former patients of Helen Brook.’ Her face became even grimmer. ‘We’ve also seen fit to add one or two villains to the list, those who might not wish DI Galena well.’
‘I should think there’s quite a few of those, Gill. Nikki’s reputation for getting convictions is pretty impressive.’
‘You can say that again, boss. But there are only one or two really nasty pieces of work that would actually go so far as to want her dead. Stephen Cox for sure. Maybe someone has taken advantage of the mayhem surrounding Helen Brook’s death in order to get at Nikki. Not probable, I know, but . . .’
‘Yes, I know, leave no stone unturned.’
‘More like any port in a storm actually, sir.’
The superintendent laid a file on the desk and pushed it toward her. ‘And now we have another problem. The DNA results from Helen Brook’s treatment room.’ He jerked an accusing finger towards the folder. ‘We have nowhere to go with them either. There was nothing at all on her body and nothing in the close vicinity either. The killer was meticulous.’
There was little Gill could say. They had been relying on forensics to give them something, no matter how small. She looked gloomily through the glass panel into the outer office. She saw Joseph’s tall form moving across the CID room towards his own office. Gill stood up and said, ‘I’ve just seen DS Easter arrive, so if that’s all, I’d better get back out there, see if we have any leads on the Duchene woman.’
