His brow furrowed and he put a finger to his mouth.
Recognising the gesture, Kate leaned a little closer. ‘I need you to think really hard, Neil. Let’s take one day at a time. Thursday, can you remember where you were working?’
He tapped the side of his head with his palm. ‘It gets jumbled.’
Kate tried to remember back to the course she’d taken on cognitive therapy for dealing with memory issues. ‘I understand, Neil. Sometimes our memories seem to merge, don’t they? I’ll tell you what, let’s try this another way. Can you tell me what you ate for breakfast this morning?’
He grinned at her. ‘Porridge. Hot with lots of honey.’
‘That’s good, Neil. What about yesterday, what did you have for breakfast then?’
He thought for a moment. ‘Toast.’
‘And you’re sure it was toast?’
He nodded. ‘There was mould on the crust I pulled off. Wrote a note to buy more bread.’
‘Okay, Neil, what about the day before that. Can you remember what you had for breakfast that day?’
He grinned again. ‘Waffles.’
‘How can you be so sure you had waffles?’
‘I was at Mum’s house, and she always makes me waffles for breakfast.’
Kate smiled to show he was doing well. ‘I see, so you were at your mum’s house. Did you spend the night at your mum’s house?’
He nodded, still smiling at the memory of the waffles.
‘Okay, so thinking about that morning, Neil, you had the waffles at your mum’s house, and then what did you do? You drove to the school, and—’
The door to the classroom burst open. ‘How dare you interrogate my son, without my consent?’
Kate’s head snapped round to see a woman standing in the doorway, arms folded, face glowering with rage.
Kate was about to enquire who the woman was and why she was there when she spotted Mrs Kilpatrick running up behind her.
‘Detective Matthews,’ Mrs Kilpatrick said breathlessly, ‘may I introduce you to Imelda Watkins, one of our school governors, and Neil’s mother.’
‘Hi, Mum,’ Neil cooed, as he waved.
Kate’s cheeks flushed slightly. Standing, she made her way to the door. ‘Mrs Watkins? I’m—’
‘I don’t care who you are!’ the woman snapped back. ‘You have no right to interview my son without me present. There are rules about this kind of thing.’
Kate glanced at Mrs Kilpatrick. ‘Perhaps you could sit and wait with Neil, while Mrs Watkins and I have a quiet word outside?’
Mrs Kilpatrick nodded, and moved past them, approaching the table.
‘Bye, Mum,’ Neil’s voice called after them, as Kate followed Mrs Watkins out of the room and down the corridor. They stopped when they reached the school’s reception area, twenty yards from the classroom.
‘Firstly,’ Kate began, keen to calm the situation before it escalated, ‘I apologise for what you feel you have stumbled upon. I was merely asking Neil a couple of questions to establish whether he was in the school on Thursday and Friday of this week.’
Mrs Watkins stared over Kate’s shoulder to the classroom. ‘Why?’
Being careful not to reveal too much about the activity in the sports hall, Kate kept her voice low. ‘We have reason to believe that something sinister occurred in the school this week, and—’
‘And you saw a groundsman with special needs and assumed he was a suspect,’ Mrs Watkins interrupted, shaking her head in disappointment. ‘It frustrates me that whenever something goes wrong, all fingers point at poor Neil.’
‘No, you misunderstand me, Mrs Watkins. We’re asking all faculty members and school visitors if they witnessed anything suspicious or noticed anybody strange lurking about over the course of this week. I’m not accusing your son of anything, I just wanted to establish his whereabouts and whether he may have seen or heard anything odd.’
‘And?’
‘And, what?’
‘And, did he?’
‘I don’t know, Mrs Watkins, I was still trying to establish where he was working on Thursday and Friday.’
Mrs Watkins continued to shake her head in disbelief. ‘All his life, people have assumed that because he struggles to communicate that there must be something wrong with him. I had to pull so many strings to get him a job here, and despite that mess a couple of years ago, he’s done so well to hold it down. My son is a good person, detective. He loves working outdoors and I’m so proud of the wonderful job he’s done with the garden and pitches here. He should be commended for his dedication, not ridiculed.’
Kate could see the years of hurt in Mrs Watkins’ eyes. ‘I’m sorry if you thought I was trying to accuse your son of anything untoward. As I said, I was merely trying to establish whether he witnessed anything that might aid my investigation into what occurred at the school.’
Mrs Watkins eyed her suspiciously. ‘Why? What did occur at the school? Is this to do with that girl who went missing? Uh, what’s her name… Daisy?’
Kate chose her words carefully. ‘I can’t comment on an ongoing investigation, I’m afraid.’
Mrs Watkins raised a sceptical eyebrow. ‘Well, before you go linking Neil with any of that, I can tell you he’s not allowed contact with any of the pupils who go to this school, and on the night she ran away he was at my house.’
‘How can you be so certain?’
‘Neil has dinner at my house every Friday night; he has done since his father passed away three years ago. He comes home to keep me company. We have a fish-and-chip supper and watch the television together.’
‘So, he was with you last night?’
She looked almost offended by the challenge. ‘Of course! You can ask any of my neighbours and they’ll verify his van is always parked outside of my bungalow on a Friday night.’ Mrs Watkins unfolded her arms, and brushed her hands down her green cardigan, flattening out a couple of wrinkles. ‘Now, if you wish to ask Neil any other questions, I hope you will allow me to be present. He gets easily confused.’
Kate was about to respond when she spotted Laura peering through the glass in the main door. On making eye contact, Laura opened the door and rushed in. ‘Ma’am, I’m sorry to interrupt, but can I speak to you in private?’
Kate looked to Mrs Watkins. ‘My team will need to speak to Neil again at some point, but I will have them arrange it through you so that you can be present.’
Mrs Watkins offered the first sign of gratitude, smiling thinly before proceeding back towards the classroom.
Kate continued to watch her, before turning back to Laura. ‘What’s so urgent?’
‘Sorry, I tried to call. I’ve managed to get hold of the building inspector. Mr Phillips? Anyway, he said he is due at the airport at two, but can meet with us now if that suits? Are you done here, or do you want me to go alone?’
Kate glanced back along the corridor, spotting Mrs Watkins and Mrs Kilpatrick leading Neil out of the classroom and hearing him proudly telling them he was going to be a detective like Sherlock Holmes.
‘This can wait for now. Let’s go and speak to this Mr Phillips and find out why he’s so keen to get on an aeroplane.’
11
The offices of Two Up and Two Down Site Surveyors Ltd. occupied the third and fourth floors of the Norwich House building across the road from the redeveloped Southampton train station, barely a stone’s throw from the police headquarters building. It had been home to many a major corporation down the years, ranging from telecommunications to banking, but was now home to anyone prepared to pay the rent.
Kate and Laura presented their identification at the reception desk, which served the community of businesses based in the fourteen-storey structure, which looked more like an inner-city tower block than a cut-and-thrust home for thriving businesses. The old boy behind the desk had a wispy white moustache and eagerly asked them questions about the nature of their visit, not because he had to, but because he was just keen to speak to ano
ther person. A television screen in the corner facing the desk showed a muted cooking programme with colourful subtitles bouncing along the bottom of the screen.
He pointed them towards the lift access when it became obvious they weren’t going to provide him with the gossip he so desperately craved.
When the doors reopened on the fourth floor, they found themselves in an almost identical atrium, with doors to male and female toilets directly ahead of them, sandwiching a tiny kitchen, and large fire doors to the left leading to the offices. The doors were locked, forcing Kate to press the buzzer.
The intercom crackled a moment later. ‘TUTD Surveyors,’ a squeaky voice replied.
‘DI Kate Matthews and DC Laura Trotter to see Mr Liam Phillips,’ Kate replied and the door’s unlocking mechanism activated a moment later, allowing them entry into some kind of waiting area, the tub chairs looking sturdy and functional, rather than comfy and welcoming. On the walls hung artistic impressions of famous landmarks from across the globe, including the Eiffel Tower, the Golden Gate Bridge and the Sydney Opera House.
A moment later, a man in his late twenties, dressed in a white, open-neck business shirt, charcoal suit jacket and trousers with a light grey pin-stripe running through them, offered a greeting. ‘Hi, I’m Liam Phillips,’ he said warmly, a South African lilt to his voice.
He extended a big and warm handshake to both, before leading them along the floor to an enclosed office space, surrounded by satin glass windows. Inside, a large mahogany desk dominated the room, with two monitors on one end and a stack of binders on the other. The large black leather seat on the far side of the desk wouldn’t have looked out of place on Mastermind.
He invited them to sit in the two reclining leather seats across from him. Kate realised why as soon as they had: his tall build and more upright seat left him hovering above them. ‘What can I do for you today?’ he asked flashing them an expensive toothy smile.
‘I’ll stand, if you don’t mind,’ Kate said, pushing herself back up and moving to the window that overlooked the road running past the building, and beyond it, Hill Lane. ‘You’re overseeing the swimming pool development at St Bartholomew’s, aren’t you?’ she asked, still looking out of the window.
‘That’s right,’ he said. ‘We’re due to begin demolition of the old building in the next ten days.’
‘Must be pretty handy,’ Kate observed. ‘The school’s what, a ten-minute walk from here at most?’
‘I wouldn’t know,’ he replied confidently. ‘I’ve never walked it. But, yeah, I suppose you’re right.’
‘How come your company’s undertaking the work? Did you bid for it, or did the school approach you?’
The first trace of unease entered his voice. ‘We bid for it, and we won.’
‘Bit unusual, isn’t it?’ Kate continued, her breath starting to fog the window slightly. ‘I’d have thought a school would use the local council building inspectorate.’
‘They were going to, originally, but the job was put out to tender at several development teams across the county. We were the only ones who offered to undertake the building inspections as well as handling the architectural side of matters. We offered the best value for money, I think. It’s not uncommon for government-run operations to hire external parties for this kind of work. It’s a great opportunity for our company to showcase our talents, and maybe win some other contracts on the back of it.’
Kate turned to face him. ‘Other schools?’
‘Schools, council properties, private business facilities, you name it. It’s an exciting time for TUTD.’
Kate’s eye caught sight of a framed photograph on the wall behind him. Phillips was in the foreground laughing and chatting with a stand-up comedian Kate recognised, but couldn’t name. ‘When was that?’
He looked up at the picture. ‘Oh that. My company won the Best Newcomer award at the South Coast Property Awards last summer. It was a great night, both socially and for the company.’
‘You own the business?’
‘I’m the majority shareholder, and co-founder.’
Kate eyed the framed degree certificate hanging next to the photograph. ‘You studied at Southampton?’
‘It’s why I moved to the UK to study.’
‘When did you graduate?’
‘In 2013.’
‘And then decided to stay?’
‘I wanted to give something back. I like it here. Close to the sea, and some of my friends from uni are still local.’
‘Impressive,’ Kate nodded. Everything inside the office looked impressive, and that’s what was starting to niggle at her conscience. Everything had been carefully chosen and reflected a successful, thriving company, but she knew from experience that things were not always as they seemed.
‘When did you win the school contract?’
‘We signed the paperwork on Guy Fawkes night last year.’
‘And completion is scheduled for…?’
‘We aim to have the new pool and complex unveiled before term starts in September.’
‘That’s a lot of work to complete between now and then.’
‘Indeed, but nothing we can’t handle.’
Kate crossed to the opposite window, overlooking the train tracks, and beyond it a large cruise ship berthed in the docks. ‘Do you spend much time up at the school?’
‘I am required to keep Mrs Kilpatrick updated with progress. My team are carrying out various checks to calculate the most efficient way to bring down the old building, causing the minimal amount of fuss to the day-to-day running of the school.’
‘How often would you say you’re up there, then?’
‘It varies. Sometimes a couple of times a week, other weeks, not at all. I’ve probably been up there five or six times this year.’
‘Were you there this week?’ Kate asked as casually as she could manage.
‘Uh… I’ll have to check my diary. What’s all this about? Has one of my men done something wrong?’
Kate spun on her heel to face him. ‘What makes you say that?’
Phillips looked flustered. His voice was awkward as he started to speak, but rapidly calmed. ‘Well, I… uh, what I mean is… all this: the two of you asking me about the school contract. I don’t understand what we’re supposed to have done wrong. It’s not every day I’m blessed with a visit from two such stunningly attractive detectives.’
Kate felt sickened by his smile; smarm wouldn’t get him anywhere with either of them.
‘We’re investigating a possible murder in the old sports hall,’ Kate said, without batting an eyelid. She knew it was a risk to be so open, but she wanted to gauge his reaction.
Flustered for a moment, he blinked multiple times as his brain registered that Kate wasn’t joking. ‘Jesus! A murder? Who died?’
‘We’re still investigating. When were you last at the school, Mr Phillips? I’d appreciate if you would check that diary of yours for us now.’
For the first time, he looked genuinely uncomfortable having the two of them in his office. He began to anxiously type, before swivelling one of the screens for them to see. ‘I was there with two of my team on Thursday.’
‘Doing what?’
He studied the screen. ‘Uh… that’s right, we had to test the building’s foundations.’
‘For what?’
‘It’s complicated. Basically, before the 1970s, industrial waste materials were used as hard-core infill under concrete floors. But it became apparent that these materials could cause damage to the concrete floors and brickwork below the DPC level of the property due to sulphate present in these materials—’
‘What’s DPC?’ Kate interrupted.
‘Damp-proof course. So, for structures of this age, we are required to test for such damage by taking a sample of the infill to determine whether there is any cracking or movement to the floors or walls below the DPC.’
‘And this test was performed inside the building?’
‘No
, all done from outside.’
‘Did you go into the sports hall when you were there on Thursday?’
‘No, there was no need.’
‘You’re certain none of your team went inside?’
‘No, the two men were with me and Mrs Kilpatrick the whole time.’
‘What time was this, Mr Phillips?’
‘I think I got to the school just after seven, and was gone before ten, as I had another appointment to attend.’
‘You didn’t see or hear anything strange at the sports hall, did you?’
‘Like what?’
‘Strange noises? Evidence that somebody had recently been inside? Anything like that?’
‘No, I’m sorry.’
‘And you didn’t return to the school on Friday to follow up on anything?’
‘No.’
Kate observed his body language. He seemed to be perspiring now, but then again the room was warm. She would know soon enough whether his vehicle had returned to the school. ‘One final question, Mr Phillips: did you or any of your team replace the padlock on the sports hall?’
He frowned. ‘Why would we?’
‘I don’t know, Mr Phillips, but it seems somebody changed it. You’re certain nobody in your team would have replaced it?’
‘No, but I will ask around for you. Tell me, detective, is this incident likely to delay our start date? We have a lot invested in this project, and any delays to the start date could seriously impact us delivering on time.’
Kate nodded for Laura to rise so they could be on their way.
‘We’ll keep you posted. Are you going anywhere nice?’
He fired her a puzzled look.
‘Your trip to the airport later?’
His eyes widened as he suddenly looked at his watch, before he calmed again. ‘Just to Edinburgh, on business.’
‘Will you be away long?’
‘No, it’s a golfing weekend with a potential client. I’ll be back on Monday.’
Kate forced a smile. ‘Well, I’ll probably speak to you then. If you remember anything from your last school visit, please let me know.’ She didn’t wait for him to offer to show them out, hurrying back towards the lifts. ‘I want you to find out everything you can about TUTD Surveyors and Mr Phillips,’ she instructed Laura.
Cold Heart: Absolutely gripping serial-killer fiction Page 6
