by Carol Wyer
‘He’s too nice all the time,’ she says, leaning against him on the settee. ‘Reminds me a bit of you-know-who.’
They never mention Clark by name. It’s taboo. He knows what she means. Hawkins is always so smiley and friendly – too friendly – but he’s nothing like that man. He wouldn’t commit any of those indecent acts.
The team members were most enthusiastic in welcoming him. Now, they praise him for his quizzing abilities that help them win on occasion. For the second time in his wretched life, he feels he belongs – he fits in at last. Sid’s memory is still with him, and on occasion he talks to Hawkins about what really happened that day at the betting shop. Hawkins believes him. Says it was a travesty what he went through and he should never have had to suffer like that.
‘Have to go, babe,’ he says. ‘Playing in Sudbury tonight. You coming?’
She shakes her head.
He knows why she’s so downbeat. They fell short with the rent money again. He really tried to make sure they had enough, but the fridge packed in and they’d had to shell out for a second-hand one that still cost them everything they’d saved. She’d had to perform the unspeakable again with McNamara to get them through the next month. He pulls her to him tightly and wishes he could bring in more so she wouldn’t have to go through it again.
She kisses him and pulls away. ‘I think I’ll have a bath and an early night, instead. Good luck,’ she says. ‘I really hope you win.’
Sixty-One
DAY TEN – THURSDAY, 23 FEBRUARY, AFTERNOON
* * *
Robyn paced the floor, her stomach churning. Flint had approved a search warrant for Liam Carrington’s house, and a small unit, headed by Mitz, was on its way to Yoxall. Now she had to tackle another concern – Anna. Unable to locate anyone to follow Naomi, she’d taken the task upon herself, and Robyn was not happy.
‘I asked her to find an officer to follow and watch Naomi, not do it herself.’
David spoke. ‘She rang in a while ago. Signal was lousy. She said Naomi Povey went straight home and was inside with the curtains drawn. She intended waiting outside Naomi’s house until we found another officer to replace her. Then she lost her signal again and when I dialled her number, her phone went to message – bloody dead zone.’
‘Didn’t you try her on the comms unit?’
‘She didn’t take one with her. She shot off like a jackrabbit. Used her own car.’
Robyn tutted loudly, and striding into the corridor, she rang Anna’s mobile and left a message. ‘Anna, ring me as soon as you get this message.’ She returned to the office, brow furrowed, speaking to no one in particular.
‘What was she thinking of? She shouldn’t be staking out Naomi Povey alone.’ The thought of Roger Jenkinson, desperate and possibly dangerous, troubled her deeply. ‘Where are the officers who’re searching for Roger Jenkinson? Can’t they send someone over to Bramshall?’
‘There was a sighting in Uttoxeter, near the racecourse. Somebody matching his description was spotted next to the grounds. They were all deployed to that area.’
Robyn heaved another sigh.
David spoke again. ‘DI Shearer’s team are all out on another investigation, and there’s nobody else available. That’s why Anna took off after Naomi herself.’
As much as she admired Anna’s dedication to her job, Robyn didn’t want her to take unnecessary risks. It was Robyn’s responsibility to keep an eye on her team. She’d had doubts about Roger Jenkinson and not followed them up quickly enough. Now, she chastised her own stupidity. There had been clues – his history of violent outbursts, his size ten feet, being Tessa’s lover, and his argument with Anthony Hawkins. Was there a possibility Roger Jenkinson was their perpetrator and he’d run, because he was afraid of being caught by the police? He had to be located – and quickly.
‘Head over to Bramshall, David, and join her at the house. Use a squad car and radio in once you arrive. I’ll feel happier knowing she has backup.’
David scooted off, leaving Robyn with Matt. They’d still had no luck with Ella Fox. She’d played the silent game. Nothing Robyn had asked or said had produced a single word from her lips. Her solicitor, a starch-faced woman with grey hair scraped so tightly from her face it gave her a permanent look of surprise, had advised Ella to make no comment.
‘Matt, got Tory Goode’s statement?’
‘All here.’ He patted the bundle of papers.
Robyn pursed her lips. The interviews with Liam Carrington and his sister were hopeless. She’d been unable to prise any information from either of them. She crossed her fingers that her latest hunch was accurate and a search of their home would yield black fibres that matched those at both murder scenes.
She steeled herself, entered the darkened room adjacent to the room and tapped on the glass. ‘Bring them in.’
Matt, standing on the other side of the glass, nodded. The door opened and five women walked in and stood in a line.
Tory was sitting once again in the room with Robyn. She leant forward and nodded. ‘I’m pretty sure that’s her. The one wearing jeans and a white jumper. She walked like that too. Confident-like.’
‘Miss Goode, are you confirming that you recognise the first woman in the line?’
‘Yes, I am.’
She had identified Ella Fox.
* * *
Robyn ran through her deliberations with Matt, voicing what was in her head.
‘If Tory Goode is correct, Ella Fox was somewhere in the vicinity of Tessa Hall’s house on the sixteenth. Unless she has a good explanation for being there, we have to consider her a likely suspect. She admitted she disliked Tessa and had warned her off Liam. There was a fingernail found at the scene of the crime, which might be evidence we can use, but it takes time to get DNA results and we don’t have that much time. Forensics found no weapon and no fingerprints that match either hers or Liam Carrington’s at the crime scene, so to sum up, we have no concrete evidence she was ever inside the house.
‘Let me run a theory past you: Ella Fox left home undetected before 6 a.m., drove Liam’s Audi to Barton-under-Needwood, parked out of sight and pretended to jog to Tessa’s house. Either Tessa was expecting her or was unfazed by Ella’s arrival, and opened the door to her. Whatever was said secured Ella’s entry to the property, where she attacked and killed Tessa.’
Robyn dragged her hands over the back of her neck. ‘What I can’t fathom for the life of me is why? It can’t be over Liam. Tessa wasn’t involved with him. And it can’t be about the lottery money because Tessa didn’t tell anyone about it and wasn’t spending it. It’s not enough, is it, Matt? Her brief will laugh and say it’s conjecture. In less than an hour, she’ll be out of here. I can’t hold her for much longer. Any suggestions? I’m getting desperate.’
‘I’m as stumped as you. We have to find something else that connects her to that location and crime, especially as we have nothing that places her at the other murder scenes. Can we speed up the DNA findings on the fingernail?’
‘Forensics are overburdened, just like us. It’s going to take five to ten days at best to get a result.’
‘How about I head to Yoxall and join the search team there? Might help.’
Robyn rubbed her neck, keeping her hands in place. Ella’s presence in Barton-under-Needwood might be perfectly innocent. Another vision of Astra passed through her head. She couldn’t get this wrong. ‘Yes. That’s a good idea. I’m not keen to even hold her for twenty-four hours if we have nothing more than this. She’s got a child to look after. Matt, what if she and Liam Carrington aren’t involved in this at all, and Roger Jenkinson and Juliet Fallows are our perps?’
‘I don’t think so. ‘
‘What makes you so sure?’
Matt’s eyes twinkled. ‘You have the best instincts of any copper I know.’ He headed for the door, pausing to grab at the packet of biscuits from Anna’s desk, then halted. ‘What if we tracked Ella’s mobile for the days in question?’
‘Then we need some way of extracting a confession from one of them, or pray for divine intervention.’ With that, he left.
A few minutes later, DCI Flint appeared at the door.
‘DI Carter.’
He drew himself to his full height and stared ahead at the office door. ‘There’s no easy way of saying this. Juliet Fallows was found dead behind a VW garage in Tamworth a few hours ago. She was shot in the face. It took a while to identify her body. She wasn’t carrying any identification. Early indicators are it’s the same type of bullet used to kill Henry Gregson.’
Robyn stared hard at him. Juliet hadn’t run off, nor was she in hiding with Roger Jenkinson. The same person who’d murdered Tessa, Anthony and Henry had undoubtedly murdered her too. A dull thudding began in her temple. Flint waited for her to speak but she kept her counsel.
‘I’ve requested all details and information to be sent directly to you and your team. Officers have been dispatched to inform the next of kin and will handle all that side of it. I want you to concentrate on catching the murderer. That’s all.’
‘Yes, sir.’
He walked away, his head high, without any further words. Robyn cursed the fact she hadn’t had sufficient evidence to prevent Juliet’s death. It was crushing to think she might still be alive if Robyn had acted more quickly. She balled her fists and kicked out at the wall with a low growl. Then she dropped onto the nearest desk, head in hands. If only she’d acted sooner. She thought of Terence and Steph and how she’d let them, and Juliet, down. She shut her eyes and tried to banish their faces but they remained fixed in her mind’s eye.
She had no idea how long she’d sat there. She waited until the anger began to subside and she could draw on her reserves. She had to lead her officers and she had to catch the killer, or killers. She’d bang them to rights for certain. She owed it to those relatives left behind, to her team, and to herself. Her mobile rang and dragged her back to the present. It was David.
‘There’s no sign of Anna, guv. Her car’s not here and there’s no one answering the door at Naomi’s house.
‘Ask about. See if anyone saw anything. I’m on my way.’
Sixty-Two
THEN
* * *
Henry knows the truth – or he thinks he does. He found out about the syndicate because somebody – Ailsa Pelligrini – let it slip to Lauren, who mentioned it to him, and now he’s put two and two together. He sold Ella our actual lottery tickets, because I’m not allowed to sell to a relative, and knows full well we played the same numbers every week, and that we never purchased lucky dip tickets.
Henry doesn’t say a word while I confess I’d stolen a winning ticket and passed it off as the syndicate’s. I don’t tell him who the ticket really belonged to. I say it was a man I hadn’t seen before. When I finish explaining why I did it, he gives me a kindly look – a look full of support and compassion – and a volcano of sorrow erupts from within. The desire to be like him, to have a normal life, hope, and love is too much to bear.
The thing is I never wanted to steal the ticket, but everyone was so pleased at the thought. They really wanted me to help them. Mr Hawkins – Anthony – put an arm around my shoulders and whispered, ‘You’re the only one who could do this. Do it for us all. Sid would have wanted you to help us. Sid gave you a chance, didn’t he? Now we need you to give us one.’
I was startled by the mention of Sid. Would he have wanted me to help these people? I figured he would. They all looked at me with such expectation in their eyes, I felt my resolve weaken. And then there was Ella. I had to do it for her and Astra. I wasn’t bringing in anywhere near enough money to look after us all. I’d had another demand for council tax I couldn’t pay, and Ella had gone round to McNamara to pay him like she usually does when we can’t afford the rent. The thought of her with that man made me want to vomit. Anthony smiled again and I sort of nodded.
‘That’s the spirit. We knew we could count on you.’
Suddenly everyone was smiling and looking at me differently. They needed me. For the first time, since Sid, I felt wanted and appreciated. I decided there and then I’d do it. I’d help us all to a better life.
The following day, I knew I couldn’t pull it off. It would be too risky. I phoned Hawkins and told him so. His voice was ice-cold. ‘Oh, yes you will, lad,’ he hissed. ‘If you don’t, I’ll tell everybody about your past. I’ll phone up that store of yours and tell the owners that you stole from your employer, Sid – a man who’d given you a chance to prove yourself – and that you left him dying, to make good your escape. I bet MiniMarkt don’t know about your past. How old were you when you were convicted? Oh yes, only seventeen. Your record will have been wiped clean after five and a half years, and you’ve never told them about it, have you?’
I’m panicked. It’s true. MiniMarkt have no idea.
‘That’s not what happened,’ I stuttered. ‘You know I didn’t steal from Sid.’
‘No, lad. I know you were a nasty little shit who robbed a good man, and who got what you deserved. You were a whining, pathetic individual in jail and you’re still pathetic now. I’ll ruin your life. I’ll tell everyone on the team what you really are and you’ll be ostracised again. You know how that feels, don’t you? Imagine what somebody like Roger would do to you if he finds out about your past. He can’t tolerate wimpy tosspots like you. I only have to “accidentally” divulge some information about you and your disgusting antics in jail, and you’ll be watching your back ever more. So, what’s it to be? Do I make that phone call to MiniMarkt, or do you toughen up again and get hold of that ticket?’
* * *
Now, I can’t bear to think about what I’ve done. Looking at Henry, I realise I’ve made a monumental error in trusting those people. Henry has been more of a friend than any of them. He asks about the others who have benefited from my theft. In my heightened state of emotion I tell him, explain they’re none the wiser, that they’re honest people. He throws me a sad look.
‘When money is involved, people can become very dishonest.’
He requests their phone numbers, and, eager to rectify my wrongdoing and to win back his trust, I pass them to him, all the while terrified that my world will unravel. I have to trust in Henry.
He’s going to ring them, one by one, and tell them they have no right to their share of the jackpot. He’ll tell them the ticket isn’t rightfully theirs and they should return the money. He’s going to give us all a chance to prove our worth.
Sixty-Three
DAY TEN – THURSDAY, 23 FEBRUARY, EVENING
* * *
David had got hold of a set of spare keys for Naomi’s house from a neighbour. Robyn arrived to find him by the front door. He shook his head.
‘No sign of anybody.’
Robyn followed him into the kitchen and took in the dirty dishes in the sink and a half-drunk mug of tea on the kitchen top.
‘Somebody left in a hurry,’ she said.
‘Naomi?’
‘Could be. There’s only one mug. Neighbour see anything?’
‘Nothing.’
Robyn heaved a sigh and shut her eyes, trying to picture exactly what might have taken place.
‘Is Naomi’s car still in the street?’
‘Yes.’
‘Then she might be in Anna’s car and even taken her hostage. I know it sounds crazy but it isn’t like Anna to not stay in touch. Something’s happened to her.’
She marched out to the back garden, surrounded by fence panels. There were no places to hide here. She turned on her heel and walked back through the house and down the front path, following it to the road, hunting for signs of a struggle. A couple of metres down the road an object caught her eye. She donned plastic gloves and lifted it. She recognised its plastic protector. She called for Dav
id who raced towards her and let out a groan. Robyn was holding Anna’s mobile.
She’d rung DCI Flint on her way to Bramshall, and as the first blue lights appeared down the street, she faced the sickening reality that one of her own was in danger. This ought to eclipse everything. Her search for Anna should take precedence. Although Flint’s voice had echoed her own concern, he’d insisted on the contrary.
‘Robyn, I’ll arrange extra assistance immediately but I want you to leave this to them. Return to the station and continue with your investigation. You can’t hold Liam Carrington and Ella Fox for much longer. I understand your anxiety but we’ll find her.’
Where could Anna be? If Robyn were Naomi Povey or Roger Jenkinson, where would she hide? It was impossible to second-guess their movements. DCI Flint was right. She had to get back to the station. She would have to leave this to the officers involved in the manhunt for Anna, Naomi and Jenkinson.
‘David, I want you to keep me updated on this. Keep communication channels open at all times.’
She drew away from the now busy street as more police cars arrived, heart weighing in her chest. She forced her focus back onto the case. They had three definite murders to deal with and one suspicious death. While Roger Jenkinson might be guilty of murdering Henry Gregson, there were still two suspects back at the station who were somehow involved in the lottery ticket theft and possibly even the other murders. Ella Fox had been in Barton-under-Needwood the morning Tessa was killed. Robyn desperately needed more evidence. She couldn’t charge either Liam or Ella until she had it, and she couldn’t return to the search for Anna until she’d got to the bottom of their involvement. With a determined expression on her face, she drove towards Yoxall. She might not be able to look for Anna but she could help speed up the search at Carrington’s house.
