by Rob Sinclair
‘I agree,’ McNair said. ‘There is enough here to raise suspicion of foul play, although quite what the nature of that foul play is I have no idea. This isn’t a drop-all-cases inquiry, but I’m happy for you to go ahead and do what you can to identify this poor woman, and determine what happened to her.’
Dani waited for McNair to say something else, though she really wasn’t sure what more she wanted from her boss, who’d essentially just given Dani carte blanche. The best possible position she could be in, really.
‘I heard you were in court this morning,’ McNair said, casting her eye to Dani.
The out-of-the-blue comment knocked Dani for a few seconds.
‘We both were,’ Easton said.
The curious look on McNair’s face suggested she hadn’t known that.
‘I understand why the trial is important to you,’ McNair said, her gaze now firmly back on Dani, ‘but I don’t want you letting those proceedings distract you from your job.’
‘Noted,’ Dani said.
‘And if you do go back there… try not to get into any more disputes with our CPS barrister inside the courtroom. The last thing I need is for one of my detectives to be hauled into the slammer for contempt.’
Dani bit her tongue; the best thing to do with her anger on the rise. It wasn’t the warning from McNair that had her riled, but rather the fact that someone had reported her exchange with Barker. Who? And why? It had hardly been a big deal.
Had it?
‘It was nothing, really, Ma’am,’ Easton said. ‘Just a brief discussion.’
McNair didn’t look convinced, but Dani was at least glad for Easton’s support.
‘OK, don’t let me keep you any longer,’ McNair said.
‘Thank you,’ Dani said. ‘We’ll keep you updated.’
McNair nodded then turned back to her computer screen as Dani and Easton made their way out.
Dani closed the door behind her and let out a sigh. She looked over to Easton who pursed his lips and shrugged.
‘Thank you,’ she said.
‘So what now?’
‘Let’s get some of the team set up.’ Dani looked at her watch. Nearly four p.m. ‘Then I know exactly where we should go to next.’
* * *
When Dani and Easton exited HQ not long after, it was already dark outside, the streetlights were on and the temperature was steadily dropping from its paltry daytime high. Shivering as she huddled down in her coat, Dani’s feet crunched on the newly gritted pavements as they headed along Colmore Row towards Victoria Square. Off to her left, recently erected Christmas lights twinkled invitingly in the trees that encircled St Philip’s Cathedral. As atmospheric as it looked, it left Dani with a sorrowful feeling, knowing that Christmas was around the corner and Jason was still stuck in hospital rather than at home with her.
‘I know seeing Ben in that picture has set your brain off,’ Easton said. ‘But shouldn’t our priority be in finding out who Clara Doyle really is?’
‘That’s what we are doing,’ Dani responded.
‘Yeah. But is it?’
Dani glared at him, but he took it on the chin despite her response to him being far more snarky than his to her. But why was he doubting her now when minutes earlier he’d been so quick to defend her in front of McNair?
‘It’s coming to the end of the day,’ Dani said. ‘The team are all set up to get stuck into Jane Doe. But we can still push forward with this other guy tonight.’ Although who really was the younger man from the pictures? James Alden? Or Patrick Beatty? Michael Marin?
Easton said nothing, as though he was content that his point had already been made. And Dani did get his point, even if she didn’t agree with him. Ben being in that picture had sidetracked her thoughts, but she was determined to get to the bottom of it sooner rather than later. Was his picture being there, in Clara Doyle’s house, nothing more than pure coincidence?
‘I never pictured Ben as a management consultant,’ Easton said.
Dani looked at him quizzically.
‘Sorry. You know what I mean, though? I didn’t know your brother before… I’ve only ever known him as a convicted murderer. It’s just strange to realise that before all that he was just… a normal guy.’
Dani said nothing, but Easton’s word struck a nerve. Yes, Ben had appeared normal. To everyone, Dani included. But had that ever really been the case?
Heading through the thoroughfare of the International Convention Centre, they were soon walking across one of the many ornate iron bridges that were scattered over the city’s canal waterways: trendy Brindleyplace with its array of modern bars, restaurants and office spaces rising in front of them. During warmer weather the paved terraces were filled with people eating and drinking at all hours of the day. This afternoon the terraces of the bars, fairy lights shimmering, had a congregation of gas heaters burning away expectantly, but the only souls brave enough to stay out in the chill were small gaggles of smokers.
‘Fancy a pint after?’ Easton said.
Dani wasn’t sure whether he was joking or not.
‘You’re not entertaining the kids and your sister tonight?’ she said.
He rolled his eyes at that. ‘I can’t wait to go home. How can you not tell?’
‘Let’s get this done first,’ Dani said. ‘Then maybe.’
The offices of Ellis Associates took up the top two floors of a glass-fronted office block with 360-degree views across the city. Dani and Easton explained to the receptionist who they were, and who they were there to see, and were left to wait, twiddling their thumbs, by a cluster of black leather sofas and armchairs.
‘You been here before?’ Easton asked.
‘No. They used to be over by Snow Hill.’
Easton huffed. ‘Would have saved us the walk.’
Seconds later the security doors beyond the reception area opened and a short, stocky man in tight-fitting blue trousers and an open-necked salmon pink shirt strode out. With a snide sneer on his tanned face, Dani knew immediately who it was, even if she’d never met him face to face before.
‘Detective Stephens,’ he said, giving a wide but disingenuous white-toothed smile to go along with his bone-crushing handshake. ‘I’m Harvey Forster.’
He looked at Dani with obvious recognition. She hated that. The way strangers knew her for all the wrong reasons. It reminded her of those darkest of days, after Ben had attacked her, when her face was all over the papers because of what he’d done. Would she ever fully regain her sense of privacy again?
Yet another thing Ben had taken from her.
‘Good to meet you,’ Dani said, ‘and this is DS Easton.’
Another handshake.
Harvey Forster. Not the name Dani was most familiar with. When Ben had worked for Ellis Associates, a lifetime ago, he had always referred to Forster as Rottweiler, and Dani could already understand why.
Forster escorted them through the security doors, along a corridor lined with glass-fronted meeting rooms, most of them empty now the working day was drawing to a close. They ended up in a small corner room that was by far the least salubrious they’d passed, with a cramped table for four and just a thin strip of a window, as though Forster was making a point that the detectives didn’t deserve anything better.
Already seated in the room was a stoic-looking woman in a pin-stripe jacket who was introduced as Mary Philips from HR.
No offer of a tea or coffee or even water. Not for two coppers who weren’t on the client list.
‘So, Detectives, fire away,’ Forster said, trying extra hard to express his nonchalance.
Easton shuffled in his satchel and pulled out a copy of the photograph from the wall in Clara Doyle’s house.
‘Can you tell us about this picture?’ Easton said as he pushed the paper across the desk.
Forster frowned and looked to his colleague first before picking the picture up and squinting as he stared at it.
‘Well, I’m sure you know the basics,’ For
ster said, putting the picture back down. ‘There’s a caption right there underneath saying it’s the Project Reflow team from Ellis Associates.’
‘Yes, we can read, thank you, Mr Forster,’ Easton said and Dani glowed inside at his blunt tone. Apparently, he’d already decided what kind of a man Forster was too.
‘Is this about Ben Stephens?’ Forster said, now fixing his hard glare on Dani. ‘I do find it odd that his sister is investigating, if it is. Whatever it is you’re investigating. I would have thought the police had procedures to avoid conflicts like that.’
‘Mr Forster, thank you for your insight,’ Dani said. ‘But if you could please explain to us a little more about the circumstances behind this picture.’
‘I was told on the phone this was an inquiry into one of our ex-employees,’ Forster said. ‘I’m sensing it might be a bit more than that. Do I need someone from our legal team here?’
Dani turned out her hands. ‘I can’t make that call for you. Unless you’re telling me you think you need legal advice before you can speak to us?’
He squirmed uncomfortably in his chair, his arrogance absent for a second or two. ‘But what are you investigating exactly?’
‘A murder,’ Easton said.
Another squirm.
‘Mr Forster. Please, can you just tell us what you can about this picture. A little context.’
‘It might have made it more straightforward if you gave me some context, but… OK.’ He sighed, as if for dramatic effect. ‘Reflow was a project we undertook on behalf of Birmingham City Council, in relation to the redevelopment of an old gasworks site in Perry Barr. I led the project. The other people in the picture were my core team. The Birmingham Mail carried a small story about it once we’d completed.’
‘And this man here,’ Easton said, putting his finger onto the face of the man that appeared all over the picture board in Clara Doyle’s home. ‘You know him? We have three potential names for him. Michael Marin. Patrick Beatty. James Alden.’
Forster stared at the picture again, his face now creasing. Concern? Or was he just deep in thought? Mary Philips was typing away on her laptop.
‘He looks familiar,’ Forster said. ‘But honestly?’
‘Here he is,’ Philips said. ‘James Alden. He did work here.’
‘Mr Forster? Do you recognise that name?’ Dani said.
He nodded, though was still frowning. ‘I do, but it’s not sparking much. I’m not sure if you’d said the name to me without this picture that I’d have recalled him at all.’
‘So he doesn’t work here any more?’
‘Certainly not on my team.’
‘Mrs Philips?’ Dani said.
‘Just give me a minute,’ she said without looking up from her screen.
‘You didn’t know James Alden well then?’ Easton asked Forster.
‘Obviously not.’
‘You’ve no idea how long he worked here for? When he stopped?’
‘I’m sure my colleague is about to tell us all the answer to that.’
The room went silent for a few moments as all eyes turned to Philips as she busily typed. She seemed to sense this and her cheeks reddened a few seconds before she stopped typing. She looked first to Forster then to Dani.
‘James Alden,’ she said. ‘He joined the firm in 2013 as an associate. That’s our graduate entry level, although he was actually twenty-six at that point. Well, at least according to his CV.’
‘According to?’ Dani questioned.
‘It seems he was only with us for a little over twelve months,’ Philips said. ‘I don’t understand exactly what happened from these details, I only joined three years ago, but there was a disciplinary hearing by the look of it. He lied about his qualifications. He was fired for gross misconduct.’
Dani’s brain was now firing.
‘None of this is familiar to you?’ Dani said to Forster.
She could tell her suspicious tone riled him. ‘No, it is not. Otherwise I would have already said. You realise we’re a global firm? We have ten thousand people in this country alone. I don’t know every associate who comes and goes, nor the reasons why.’
‘So who led the disciplinary?’ Easton asked Philips.
‘It’s not all here,’ she replied. ‘I’d have to do some digging.’
‘The fact his CV was bogus only came out months after he joined?’ Dani said.
‘I’m sorry. Again, I’d have to look into why. You have to understand we don’t routinely check every single item on a candidate’s CV for factual accuracy. I’m not sure any employer does?’
‘But you do identity checks?’ Dani said.
‘Of course,’ Philips said, like it was a ridiculous question.
‘We’ll need to see exactly what checks you performed then,’ Dani said. ‘And we’ll need a copy of his CV, plus any other personal details you can give us: addresses, emergency contacts, bank details, payroll records.’
Philips opened her mouth but said nothing. She looked over to Forster.
‘You’ll have to make a request through official channels,’ Forster said. ‘I’m sure you understand.’
Dani and Easton shared a look. ‘That’s fine,’ Dani said.
‘I can only assume that you being here therefore has something to do with James Alden?’ Forster said. ‘Rather than any of the other people in the picture.’
Of course he was fishing about the fact that Ben was also in the picture. ‘That’s correct,’ Dani said. ‘We’ll need that information as soon as possible, so please have it ready to go when we get the formal request in.’
Dani got to her feet. Easton followed.
‘We’ll be in touch.’
* * *
‘You OK?’ Easton asked as they traipsed back towards the canal.
‘Yeah,’ Dani said.
‘I’ve never much liked those in-your-face corporate types.’
‘No. Me neither.’
But really she wasn’t thinking about Forster at all, but about what on earth they were stumbling over with Clara Doyle and James Alden. And what the hell did Ben have to do with any of this? She still couldn’t escape that glaring unknown.
‘So do you fancy that pint?’ Easton said.
Dani stopped and thought for a moment. It was barely five o’clock. There were plenty of useful things she could still do in the office. Plus she wanted to go to the hospital later to see Jason before she headed home. But she also really wanted something, anything to take her mind off her still swirling thoughts about her brother and all the shit that forever hung around him. And her.
‘Yeah. Why not.’
* * *
‘Six pounds for a pint!’ Easton stammered, holding a tenner out to the indignant barman. He looked to Dani. Pure disgust. ‘I should have taken you for a coffee.’
He dug in his pocket for the extra coins to cover their two pints.
‘It’s fine,’ Dani said, whipping out her card which she pressed against the contactless machine. ‘On me.’
Easton looked even more sheepish now. They grabbed their drinks and found a table by the window, looking out to the shivering smokers huddled there.
‘Life choices, eh?’ Easton said as he took a huge gulp from his glass.
‘Something like that.’
‘What’s on your mind?’
Dani took a lengthy sip. She wasn’t a big beer drinker at all, but it did taste damn good today. As it should for the price.
‘Clara Doyle. James Alden,’ she said, which was true, even if it wasn’t the whole truth.
‘You heard from Barker?’
Dani quickly re-checked her messages and emails. No, there was still nothing from him, even though court was in recess now until the morning. But then, what was she expecting him to contact her about?
‘You ask me, this case could be exactly what you need to take your mind off that trial.’
‘Yeah. I’m so pleased Clara Doyle is dead. What a great service she’s done for me to t
ake my mind off Curtis’s trial. I’ll have to thank her next time I see her.’
Easton’s cheeks flushed. ‘I didn’t mean it like that. Just, you’ve got to stop beating yourself up over the past. Over Ben. It’s only the thought of him that torments you. You need to get him out of your head.’
She agreed with Easton absolutely on that. Yet what he’d said was an impossible task.
Easton’s phone vibrated in his pocket. He lifted it out.
‘Yeah?’
Dani’s eyes pinched as she listened to the one-sided conversation. Her heart steadily drummed in her chest with anticipation, because she could tell, even from the meagre words Easton was using in response, that the call was work related.
After a couple of minutes he put the phone back down on the table.
‘News?’
He shook his head as if in disbelief.
‘James Alden,’ he said. ‘Grayling thinks she’s found him.’
They’d set DC Grayling up looking into Alden and his aliases, trying to find a solid ID that matched.
‘Found him physically?’ Dani said, hopefully.
‘Unfortunately not. And that’s the problem. James Alden isn’t his real name at all. Liam Dunne is.’
The name meant nothing to Dani. ‘OK?’
‘Dunne was reported missing five years ago. He’s not been seen since.’
‘What the—’
‘There’s more. He was reported missing by his sister: Clara Dunne. Her details, date of birth, match to—’
‘Clara Doyle,’ she said.
Easton simply nodded in response.
Chapter 4
Two hours later, realizing there was little more she could usefully do that night, Dani arrived at the hospital which, despite it being gone seven p.m., was swarming both inside and out; cars in the car park, and patients, visitors, doctors and nurses filling the waiting areas and corridors. Organised chaos was a kind way to describe it, utter confusion another. Not that Dani begrudged any of the staff here. They were, on the whole, incredible people, yet the institution they worked for was forever constrained by growing demand set against dwindling resources, making the lives of the professionals there near impossible.
