‘And how have you been, Mr McIntyre? Are you coping okay?’
He sighed. ‘It’s been hard. Lately, I can go a couple of days without thinking about her. And then I remember, and I feel guilty because I haven’t thought about her. I can’t imagine what it must be like for her work colleagues that were there when it happened.’
‘What was your relationship with Alison like?’
‘I beg your pardon?’
‘Did you get on well all the time, or did you argue a lot?’
‘We were due to get married in September this year. Does that answer your question?’
‘All relationships go through a rough patch, Mr McIntyre. I merely wish to understand what Alison was like as a person.’
‘We bickered from time to time, I suppose – same as anyone.’
‘Can you tell me what happened that day from your perspective?’
‘I was at work. It was about twelve o’clock. I was in a sales meeting with my boss and three colleagues – it was a telephone conference call with our sales office in Swindon. The receptionist, Annie, opened the door and I remember her face was really pale. She looked like she was going to be sick. She asked me to step outside the room, and my boss had a go at her for interrupting us in the middle of a meeting and she said couldn’t it wait. I remember she never stopped looking at me. She told my boss it was about Alison, and that the police were in reception wanting to speak to me. I didn’t wait for his answer – I left the room and ran through the building to the reception area. There were two police officers there, and they said there had been an accident on the railway. I asked if Alison was okay, and the female police officer looked at her colleague and then at me, and I knew. I knew she was dead.’
He wiped at his eyes, and Kay pushed across the box of tissues.
‘I know this must be painful for you, and I’m sorry, but I’m investigating the death of four of her colleagues that were present when the accident occurred.’
McIntyre’s head snapped up. ‘What you mean? Nathan and Cameron killed themselves. That’s what I’d heard. I thought it was because they couldn’t live with the memory of that day. I thought it was because the antidepressants they were taking weren’t working.’ He blinked. ‘Who else has died?’
‘Lawrence Whiting and Jason Evans. We’ve reason to believe their deaths are somehow linked to your girlfriend.’
‘Why?’
‘It’s the only thing that links the four deaths. One of the deaths is being investigated as murder, and that’s when we became aware of the link with the other three men.’
‘Why? What sort of monster would do that? Haven’t those poor men and their families suffered enough?’
‘Mr McIntyre, I have to ask as a matter of due diligence where you were on the nights of their deaths.’
His jaw dropped open, and then he recovered. ‘I realise you’re just doing your job, Detective Hunter, but I can assure you I was at home on those occasions. Since Alison died, I don’t go out much these days.’
‘Can anyone vouch for your whereabouts?’
He leaned back in his chair. ‘Actually, yes.’ He pulled out his mobile phone and slid it across the table to Kay. ‘I’ve spoken to my mother every night since my dad died in a car accident two years ago, and I always call her when the nine o’clock news has finished.’
‘You don’t have a landline?’
A faint smile crossed his lips. ‘Who does, these days?’
‘And this is the only mobile phone you own?’
He frowned. ‘Why would I want another?’
Kay pointed to the phone. ‘I’ll need your mother’s phone number, please.’
Forty-Two
Kay hovered near DS Jake O’Reilly’s desk while he finished a phone call, then met his smile with one of her own as he put away his mobile.
‘Hunter – thought you were still snowed under with the Lawrence Whiting investigation?’
‘I am,’ she said. ‘I heard you were looking after the assault case – Gavin Piper?’
‘I tell you, I don’t know what this place is coming to if an off-duty copper isn’t even safe.’
‘Any developments?’
‘We’ve got some CCTV footage from the car park but the cameras all face the buildings surrounding it. There’s only a bit of the car park visible. Looks like our esteemed councillors and town planners were more worried about graffiti artists tagging the walls of a medieval building than people getting back to their cars safe at night.’
Kay let the older detective carry on. She shared his frustration, but realised that funding for cameras was often limited, and if the historical buildings around Maidstone were damaged instead, they’d be receiving the same amount of phone calls from the public. It wouldn’t lessen their caseload.
‘Could you see anything at all?’
He wiggled the mouse on his desk from side to side. ‘Come round here and take a look for yourself. He’s one of yours, right?’
‘Yeah. Wants to be a detective. He’s got the right attitude.’
‘Well, hopefully this doesn’t put him off.’
Kay swallowed, but said nothing. She hadn’t even contemplated that outcome when talking with Gavin the previous night.
O’Reilly leaned over and pulled a chair across from the desk behind him and indicated to Kay to sit.
‘Thanks.’
‘I’ve taken a cut of the recording, so it’ll save fast-forwarding. This starts off as Piper enters the car park.’
‘Okay.’
He hit the “play” button on the screen and the black and white image juddered once and then the film began.
From the top right-hand corner, Gavin appeared, his hands shoved into his jacket pockets and his gait unhurried.
‘This is his car, down here in the bottom left-hand corner. He parked under a streetlight, but the bulb had blown.’
‘Convenient.’
‘Yeah.’
She watched as Gavin reached the middle of the screen, halfway to his car.
Something caught his attention, and he glanced over his right shoulder before halting.
Suddenly, a man launched himself at the young police constable, attacking him from his blind side with a shoulder charge that gave him no time to take evasive action and sent him sprawling onto the asphalt.
Kay gasped, and covered her mouth with her hand.
She’d seen fights before, and had broken up a few in her time in uniform, but there was something utterly heart-wrenching about seeing someone she considered a close colleague take the brunt of an attack, even if she knew he was currently safe in hospital.
A second man appeared from behind Gavin, running into the frame before aiming a kick to his victim’s back that made Kay’s own kidneys clench in sympathy.
‘Jesus.’
The two men bent down and began to punch him, aiming for his face and ribs.
Gavin curled into a foetal position, and tried to protect himself, but Kay knew only too well how that had fared for him.
He hadn’t stood a chance.
She frowned as a vehicle appeared in the bottom right-hand corner at speed, and then stopped.
The two attackers’ heads jerked up, as if they’d been called, and they rose from the asphalt, one giving Gavin a final kick to the ribs as he straightened, and then they both ran towards the vehicle before it sped off.
‘That’s all we have.’
She blinked.
O’Reilly leaned across and stopped the recording, and then sat back in his chair and met her gaze.
‘I couldn’t see their faces.’
‘We’ve tried enhancing it, but it’s no good.’
‘What about other CCTV cameras? Did they get the vehicle’s registration?’
‘Yes, but it didn’t do any good. They were fake, and the vehicle was found burnt out in a lay-by up round the back of Boughton Monchelsea yesterday morning. An accelerant was used, and there are no prints.’
Kay sank back into
her seat.
‘I’m really sorry, Hunter, but I don’t think we’re going to have a lot of luck.’
‘I know. There’s not much to go on, is there?’
He shook his head.
‘Okay.’ She sighed and straightened before pushing the chair back under the desk behind him, and then patted him on the shoulder. ‘Thanks for trying. Let me know if I can help with anything, all right?’
‘Will do.’
Kay pushed her way through the door to the main corridor, and stopped.
To her right, the incident room awaited.
She checked her watch, and then turned her back on the hubbub of chatter from that end of the corridor, and headed towards the stairs.
She raised a hand in greeting to the police constables manning the front reception desk and pushed through the front door, before she shoved her hands into the pockets of her thin coat and turned left towards the river.
A cool breeze whipped at her hair and she peered up at the grey sky, wondering if warmer weather would make an appearance before the end of the month, or whether she ought to unpack her winter wardrobe again the first chance she got.
She pressed the button for the pedestrian crossing, felt a fleeting moment of victory as the traffic lights turned amber almost immediately, and strolled across the road.
The pavement curved as she passed the museum on the opposite side of the road and walked through the entrance to the car park.
As she crossed the car park, she narrowed her eyes at the spot where Gavin had been attacked.
A large seven-seater people carrier and a medium-sized maroon hatchback covered the parking bays where he had fallen, and as she raised her chin, she could make out the CCTV camera on its mounting next to the streetlight from which O’Reilly had obtained the video footage.
A chill ran down her spine and she stopped, before turning in a complete circle, her brow creased.
There was more than one person involved. She might have one name in mind, but there were others, that much was clear.
Was she being watched now? Were those that had arranged for Gavin’s attack to take place spying on her?
She had no doubt that the men who had beat him up were not the puppet masters she sought.
The person behind all of this, the vendetta against her, and her subsequent troubles, was too sly and too intelligent to carry out such an attack themselves.
She shook her head to clear the thought.
Until she and the team had brought Lawrence Whiting’s killer to justice, she couldn’t afford to let her focus wander elsewhere. Somehow, she knew that time was on her side. So far, each warning had been reactive – she’d had to do something to provoke them.
Maybe if she waited and bided her time for a few days, they would think their ploy had worked?
‘I’ll find out who did this to you, Gavin,’ she murmured. ‘As soon as this case is over, I’m going to make sure they get put away.’
Forty-Three
Kay flicked the page and scanned the information that had been sent through from Alison’s employers.
At first, they had been reluctant to assist, but after assurances that the police only wished to review the records for employment dates and any absences from work, a pared down version of her records was emailed to Debbie West.
‘I’ve got the GP records here as well, Sarge,’ she said, moments before forwarding an email to Kay. ‘I’ve taken a quick look, but I can’t see anything in there to indicate she might commit suicide.’
‘There’s no record of any problems at work, either. She doesn’t seem the sort of person to act on impulse, which makes her walking in front of a train even harder to understand.’
Debbie pulled over a spare chair and sat down next to Kay. ‘I guess it would depend on what she and Kevin McIntyre had an argument about.’
‘You’re right, but even so—’
‘Seems a bit drastic, doesn’t it?’
‘Yeah, exactly. And she doesn’t come across as being a drama queen.’ Kay flicked through her notes. ‘How far along were they with planning the wedding? Here it is – they announced their engagement three months before she killed herself. The wedding was meant to take place in September this year.’
She closed her notebook and grabbed her mobile phone from the desk, before dialling Martin Campbell’s number. ‘Let’s find out what her bridesmaids have to say about her. Hello? Mr Campbell? Yes, I wonder if you could help me.’
* * *
‘So how come you’re dragging me along to this, and not our protégée?’
Kay tossed the car keys to Barnes and swung herself into the passenger seat. ‘Because if I take Carys, I’ll have to listen to how well she’s managing her case load and why I’m supposedly throwing advantages Gavin’s way and not hers, despite him being in hospital at the moment.’
The older detective smiled as he steered the car out of the police station car park. ‘You can’t fault her ambition. She’s good.’
‘They both are, and I’ve got a lot of time for them, but sometimes even your bad sense of humour can be appealing.’
‘Aw, Sarge, you’re making me blush.’
‘Don’t push it.’
They laughed, and Kay pulled out her notebook to share what she’d gleaned from Alison’s father about the woman who had been picked by his daughter to be her matron of honour.
‘Okay, so Rebecca Ashgrove. Twenty-seven, married with a one-year-old son. We’re on a tight schedule as she has to leave before two o’clock so she can go and pick him up from day care. She’s over at Wateringbury.’
‘Right.’ Barnes aimed the car over the River Medway and they picked up speed once they were out of the town’s speed limits. ‘Any more?’
‘According to Alison’s father, she didn’t want a whole bunch of friends queuing up to be bridesmaids, so she only had the one.’
‘Makes our job easier.’
Rebecca Ashgrove opened her front door and admitted the two detectives with the hurriedness of a mother of a new-born, and Kay was immediately struck by the smell of nappies and baby food.
No matter what new parents said, it clung to everything, and Kay pushed aside the sense of longing that threatened to overwhelm her. Instead, she cast her eyes around the living room, noting the careful placement of sharp objects or delicate ornaments, and turned to see Rebecca smiling at her.
‘It’s a whole new world, like, having Elizabeth in our lives,’ she said, and moved a small collection of soft toys from the sofa so they could sit down. ‘So I’m not going to even apologise for the mess.’
‘It’s not a problem,’ said Kay. ‘It’s got a happy feel in this room.’
Dimples appeared at the corners of the woman’s mouth. ‘It has, right?’ Her face grew serious. ‘But you’re not here to talk babies, are you?’
‘We were wondering if you could help us with an investigation. Some background information, if you can, with regard to Alison Campbell. Can you tell us a bit about her? How long had you known her?’
Rebecca settled back into an armchair and curled her legs up underneath her. ‘We’d known each other since secondary school, like, forever. You know what it’s like – a whole bunch of kids from different villages all getting thrown together aged twelve in one big school. I think both of us had eyes like saucers the first day, like, we didn’t know what to do, or where to go. We just gravitated towards each other, y’know? When we left school, Alison went off to university to study engineering, and I decided to study floristry. By the time Alison graduated, I had my own shop in Maidstone. She used to come in, like, and help me during her semester breaks.’
‘Did she enjoy that?’
‘She was a right laugh – she made even the dull jobs fun. We’d often take longer to clear up or do the stocktake every week just to gossip, like, y’know?’
Barnes finished writing. ‘Any indication that she might have been depressed?’
‘No, none at all. Trust me, I keep thinking
back to the days before she died, wondering if I should’ve picked up on something, but there’s nothing.’
‘We understand that she and Kevin might have had an argument the morning before she died,’ said Kay. ‘Do you know anything about that?’
‘First time I’ve heard about it. Kevin’s never mentioned it.’
‘Do you stay in touch with him?’
She shook her head, before her eyes dropped to her lap and she twisted the wedding band on her finger. ‘No. I only knew him through Alison, so to be honest it wasn’t hard to drift apart after she died.’ She raised her head and shrugged. ‘Alison was my best friend. I didn’t even think to stay in touch with Kevin afterwards.’
Back in the car and travelling back to Maidstone, Kay bumped her fist against the car window and mulled over Rebecca’s comments.
Despite the woman’s assertion she and Alison had been best friends, it didn’t sound as if Alison trusted her enough to talk to her about what was troubling her so much that she thought her only option was to kill herself.
What could have been troubling the young graduate engineer? Had she made a mistake at work? Who held her colleagues responsible for her death?
‘I think I’d better give her employers another call when we get back to the incident room, Ian. We’ve only seen what’s on her official personnel file. Maybe there was something else going on there.’
‘I’ve been thinking that, too. I’ll get in touch with McIntyre’s employers as well. That might unearth something of interest, you never know.’
‘You don’t mind? You’ve got Rebecca’s statement to type up as well.’
Barnes shook his head. ‘Shouldn’t take long. By the time I’ve omitted the word “like”, this statement’s only going to be a half a page, anyway.’
Forty-Four
He ended the call and flung the mobile phone across the room in a fit of rage. The man had refused to meet with him, despite his best attempts to entice him away for a quiet chat, as he had put it.
Will to Live Page 16
