Joanne doubted that very much. She gave a polite nod as she opened the door to leave.
“One thing, in parting,” said Carlton. “If she’s upsetting anyone, it’d be best to put a stop to it right away. Especially if you think she’s lying or acting up in anyway.”
“It’s a very hard call to make, Mr Carlton. Especially for Eva. We need to know for sure. Because either the woman is in desperate need, which means Eva will feel she has to help… or she’s a risk to everyone concerned.”
The man nodded, his face grim.
“I see. Tell me, have you ever heard of a place in France called Reuil-Malmaison?”
“No. Should I have?”
“Not necessarily. But I hear it’s the kind of place one might like to visit during one’s travels. Not far from Paris, so I hear. Conveniently close, in fact.”
The man’s eyes sparkled with meaning. Joanne nodded, and smiled in response.
“Thank you, Mr Carlton.”
“Leonard,” he said. “As you see, I can’t much help you. But there is someone else who might be able to tell you a little more. No guarantees, mind.” He hesitated and bit his lip as if struggling to make up his mind. A second later Carlton walked to his desk, opened a battered-looking address book and copied a number onto a slip of paper torn from a pad on his desk.
“Oh?” said Joanne.
“She’s a former colleague of mine – Mrs Gernahue. The dear lady’s retired now, of course, and there’s a good chance she might not want to discuss any of it. She’s had a hard time of it, you see. The past is a difficult place, Joanne. Some of us older folk don’t like to visit it much if we can help it.”
He handed Joanne the slip of paper with the name and number on it.
“There. I’ve told you all I can. Please, only call Mrs Gernahue if you must. The poor woman lost her husband not long ago. All in all, I think life has taken its toll.”
Joanne nodded and slipped the paper into her jacket.
“Thank you, Mr Carlton.”
“Goodbye, Joanne,” he said, taking the door handle with an air of dismissal. The meeting was over. Joanne gave the man a final nod before walking out into the reception hallway. The bespectacled receptionists looked up from their window as a scatter of pupils rushed past the offices of the of the school heads. Grateful as she was to Mr Carlton, Joanne was all too glad to be out of school.
Eight
Just after three pm, Joanne walked into Eva and Dan’s office, her heart racing because she was nervous as hell. Part of her felt like she was coming home after a long time away but the strange nostalgia was trounced by her trepidation. After their coffee at The Arches had ended so badly, Joanne knew what she had to say wasn’t going to go down well.
She found Eva engrossed in her work, hunched over a laptop at the middle desk in the office, one hand propping up her head while she scribbled on a notepad. She looked troubled, but busy. When Eva looked up Joanne saw the intensity in her eyes. She was utterly focused, barely present. It was a look she had seen on Eva before, usually when a case was on the verge of being cracked. But even if Eva believed she was close, Joanne felt the opposite. Eva was lost and she didn’t know it. Joanne had come in to break the spell. Eva saw the look on Joanne’s face, sighed, put down her pen, and took a gulp of coffee.
“I didn’t expect to see you again so soon,” said Eva, her eyes probing Joanne’s.
“Neither did I, to be honest,” she said looking around. “Though it is good to be back. but I came here because I found something, Eva.”
“Found something?” she said. “Found what?”
“Take a guess,” she said.
Eva’s eyes searched Joanne’s before she bristled. “Joanne. I asked you to leave it alone. What, five hours ago, six at the most. Come on. You’ve got your own life now, you mustn’t go messing up your job – any of your jobs – because of something I have to deal with.”
“I’m done with one job,” said Joanne. “I decided to quit the council this afternoon. You were right, Eva. They were on to me. I guessed it was best to jump before I was pushed.”
“Well, it might save a black mark on your CV. Now you’ll need Tobias Falk more than ever.”
“What do you mean by that?” said Joanne, her eyes flashing.
“Nothing,” said Eva, arching an eyebrow. “I meant Falk needs to pay you a wage. Why? What did you think I meant?”
“Ah… it doesn’t matter.
“I see,” said Eva, with a knowing nod. “You don’t want to talk about it., but you’re quite content to go raking over my life after we agreed that you wouldn’t.”
“I can’t stop worrying about you, Eva, I think you need to be extremely careful around that woman, I really do.”
“Don’t you think I know that? She’s been difficult the whole way through. Still, I can’t drop the case.”
“Why not? She lied to you. She’s been lying to everyone since the start.”
“And so has Jamie Blane. I went to see her, Joanne. She said she was being watched by some supposed hitman – something Blane had already discredited as a lie. Everything I showed to Blane, he had an answer for. Every place where his credit card had been used to pay for cleaning equipment and rubble bags – all of that, it wasn’t him. Screwfix said they handed the order to a woman.”
“There you go,” said Joanne. “It was her.”
Eva nodded. “That would make sense, wouldn’t it? And it’s possible she organised those orders to back up her lies. But the trouble is the hitman exists. I saw him. Outside Lauren’s mother’s house in Hadleigh – a man sitting in a white Kia Sportage on hire from Reva Rentals – rented on an account paid for by Blane Recruitment.”
“That doesn’t make any sense.”
“But it does. The only thing we both know for sure about these two is that they lie to manipulate people however it suits them. Lauren managed to manipulate me so badly that I almost hurt Jamie Blane. Before I knew it, Blane had turned the tables and persuaded me Lauren was the liar. I doubted him, of course, but he backed it up with proof. But after seeing the man in the Kia, I know Blane lied to me too. Being hoodwinked left and right – it’s enough to make me think I’m losing my way in the world.”
“Anyone would think the same, Eva.”
Eva didn’t respond. She moved on to her next point.
“In 2016, Jamie Blane had dealings with a man called Adam Boothroyd. Blane rented a car for him through his firm. A Vauxhall Corsa CDTi hatchback. I’ve seen emails relating to this. Much more recently, he hired Boothroyd another car. The Sportage isn’t in Adam Boothroyd’s name but I saw an email sent to Adam telling him the Sportage would be available under the name of a staff member. Under the alias of Brian Finn..”
Joanne tried to keep up. “What does that mean?”
“It’s how Adam Boothroyd has tried to keep his identity hidden, and it shows Blane has good reason to help him do so. It also means Blane is burying suspicious car hires in his business.”
“Why?”
“Because that way, they might look like part of the company’s everyday business expenses. Car hires could disappear under certain projects, certain specific appointments, and no one would ever ask why, or even remember the rentals. It would make sense.”
“Do you think it’s true?” said Joanne.
“It a shot in the dark but it’s beginning to add up. In 2016, Jamie Blane lost his wife in a car crash on the A12. That Vauxhall Corsa CDTi was hired around the same time. It fits with the emails Lauren told me about before, the ones from Blane’s personal email account… though she never actually showed me those emails, but it fits. And as it fits, it means Adam Boothroyd, was almost certainly involved in her death. Blane hires his cars through the business, and Boothroyd makes Blane’s targets disappear. From the emails I’ve seen, it follows that this latest car hire is for Boothroyd as well. And right now Boothroyd is sitting outside Lauren’s hiding place, waiting to make his move.”
Joan
ne dumped her bag on the front desk. “You’re absolutely sure about this?”
“No one’s fed me this information. I’ve seen the emails and I’ve seen Boothroyd with my own eyes. Blane wanted me to believe the person pushing the button as he called it, was no hitman but his friend Henry. They came up with some lame excuse that their actual plan was to get Lauren to leave him. Now I don’t buy that at all. The man I saw in that car isn’t Henry. If Lauren had been lying, then I would have been out of there, but I can’t abandon her now, Joanne. No matter what she’s put me through, I can’t do it. The woman’s desperate. I know you wouldn’t do it either.”
Joanne shook her head.
“Maybe not. But you still need to be careful. This afternoon I went to see someone who remembers you and Lauren Jaeger.”
“Oh?” said Eva. She raised an eyebrow.
“At St Cecil’s Comprehensive, Wickford.”
Eva frowned. “My old school? But why would you waste your time doing that?”
Joanne swallowed. Eva’s words stung, but Joanne knew she was pulling a thorn from Eva’s side and told herself to take the hit.
“Do you remember a teacher called Mr Carlton?”
Eva shrugged, then her eyes misted over and she gave a nod. “Yes. He was a history teacher. What? He’s still there? But he must be ancient by now.”
“Yeah, the guy is pretty old now. And he’s the deputy head. He looks on the verge of retirement. But he remembered you alright.”
“Really? I didn’t think anyone would remember me. I was always a wallflower back then.”
“But a well-liked one, from the sound of it” said Joanne.
Eva’s face softened for a moment, but the hard edge soon returned.
“Why did you go there, Joanne? Those were bad days for me. And it’s in the past. We don’t need to go there.”
“This isn’t about your past. I went there to try and to help you now.”
“But you’re not helping me. You’re giving me extra problems I don’t need.”
“Think for a second,” said Joanne. “Just how much do you really know about Lauren Jaeger these days.”
“I know as much as I want to. She’s a mess, and I know I have to watch my back with her. And now I know her boyfriend has arranged to have her killed.”
“I accept all that. But what about you? Think about all the risks she’s put you through. I know she hurt you once… but since she’s been back all I’ve seen her do is take advantage of you. She’s abusing your trust, Eva.”
“Joanne, there are a lot of people who don’t tell me the truth,” said Eva, her eyes fixing on Joanne. “There’s very little trust left to abuse.”
Joanne nodded, feeling another barb aimed her way. “Eva, you’re one of the most trusting people I know. Even after everything Lauren did to you, you are helping her again. You don’t know – the guy in the Sportage could be part of some set-up she’s involved in…”
“Common sense tells me otherwise.”
“But… Lauren Jaeger isn’t the girl you were friends with. She isn’t even the same girl who left St Cecil’s all those years ago. Mr Carlton was very guarded but tried to tell me something. There’s something we should look at.”
Eva paused and shook her head. “We all change, Joanne. Don’t get me wrong. I can’t wait to be free of this case. But right now she’s in obvious danger and Blane knows I’m onto him. I can’t walk away. She’ll end up dead.”
“How would he know?”
“I got into his work email account, looking for more evidence. And as I was looking at those car hire emails, someone else was watching, signed into the same email account. They saw what I was doing and started deleting the emails as fast as I could read them. But I know what I saw, and that’s enough for me. No matter what Blane showed me or told me before, I know he arranged the hit on Lauren.”
“But what about fresh information, Eva? Getting fresh insight into Lauren Jaeger? It can’t hurt, can it?”
Eva folded her arms and sat back in her seat. “Joanne, I don’t like what you’re doing and I’ve asked you to stop.”
Joanne swallowed. “Your old teacher Carlton told me what Lauren Jaeger was like. He told me she was brash and liked hanging around with the dangerous people, like the bad boys at the gate.”
“That was after she cut me out of her life. And so what? I can remember all that for myself.”
“I’m trying to explain,” said Joanne. “She hasn’t changed, Eva. First I tried to track her down online. If she had a career in fashion journalism then it stands to reason that Lauren Jaeger’s name would be a thing. I should have been able to find some of the articles she had written.”
“Not necessarily,” said Eva. “She worked in the fashion trade press, Joanne. That means writing for industry publications. Who knows? Lauren might have been writing about zip-fastener technology for a ten-page brochure on zips, rivets and buttons – not the latest summer trends for Cosmopolitan.”
“But even then, there should have been some kind of web presence, don’t you think?”
Eva tilted her head. “Unless the publication folded.”
“I thought about that too,” said Joanne. “And even then there would be some trace of the publication, if not the actual publication itself – archived somewhere.”
“Where are you going with this, Joanne? I can’t just sit here and listen to you theorise about this. She’s in danger.”
“Just a minute, please. Her name isn’t connected in any way to the fashion press. Not any of them. I’ve searched everywhere, but her name just doesn’t come up. You know why? It didn’t happen, Eva. She’s lied about her career. She lied about all of it. She’s never stopped lying.”
Eva recalled Blane’s story of picking up Lauren from her lowest point, dusting her down, fixing her up, turning her into a success. Eva blinked and dismissed the idea as another of Blane’s dodgy lines.
“People lie for all kinds of reasons, don’t they? Maybe she was ashamed of her real job. She might have cleaned toilets for a living and not wanted to admit it. Lauren always did have delusions of grandeur.
“Yes – all kinds of reasons, Eva…” said Joanne. “That’s what I’m talking about.”
Eva frowned and shook her head. “I don’t follow you.”
“After Lauren left St Cecil’s, Mr Carlton said there was some kind of incident. Sounds like the school were made aware of it, but he couldn’t say what it was. It was too sensitive. He seemed worried about any comeback.”
Eva frowned and her eyes glazed again.
“An incident?” she said. “What kind of incident would require the school’s involvement after Lauren had already left?”
“I don’t know. He couldn’t say, but my guess is it would have to be serious. Maybe they had to offer a reference, or a professional opinion. But that’s not my point. Carlton also implied she never worked in the fashion press and then, he dropped the name of some place in France. Interestingly, he did that just after I told him how dangerous I think she is.”
“You told him that? That’s not fair to me or Lauren. You don’t have the right to go behind my back and talk to my school about my cases or my clients. You’ve overstepped the mark – again!”
Joanne knew her time with Eva was running out. She moved on quickly. “The place Carlton mentioned in France was called Rueil-Malmaison.”
Eva shook her head. “Never heard of it.”
“I looked it up. It’s a suburb town outside of Paris. Very, pretty by all accounts. Imperial history, nice gardens, and all that, but there’s a lot more than that.
“Joanne – stop. This is too much. I have to keep a focus on the job and I don’t need to be forced off on more random tangents. This is a hard enough case already, the toughest because it’s personal. Let me deal with it.”
Joanne pushed on.
“Mr Carlton said Lauren spent some time in France. I thought he meant after the incident, but the incident could have happened ther
e. When Carlton said that Lauren spent time over there, I thought he meant on a gap year or as an au pair or something, but it wasn’t anything like that. Carlton made that very clear.”
Eva drank the rest of her coffee and put down the empty cup.
“Then what was it like, Joanne?” said Eva, narrowing her eyes.
“I checked out Rueil-Malmaison. That town has no less than three different centres for treating people with mental health issues. People who have cracked, Eva. People who are damaged. And one of those places is a long-term institution. Think about it. Lauren could have been placed inside one of their units. That could easily account for the massive gap in her career – a gap she filled with another fantasy. It fits even better when you think of all her lies.
“And what evidence have you got for this theory, Joanne?”
“What evidence do you have for any of hers? She lied to you from day one, and right now I’d bet she still is. Is she your friend, Eva? Your client? Or is she your enemy? What is she?”
Eva blinked and took her time to answer. “You haven’t got any evidence at all, have you?”
“Carlton told me as much as he could. He told me she went to France, and he name dropped Reuil-Malmaison in relation to some kind of incident. It sounded serious. It didn’t take much to join the dots. Here, look. There are three institutions around that area. Surely it shouldn’t be too hard to find out if she was in one of them.”
Joanne took a handwritten note from her handbag and walked it to Eva’s desk. She laid it by Eva’s notepad scrawls and backed off before Eva could throw the sheet back in her face. Eva looked at the note and then looked up at Joanne.
“I don’t have time for any more guesswork. I’ll tell you what evidence I’m looking at, shall I? Jamie Blane deleting emails about his arrangements with Boothroyd faster than I can read them. A man – probably Boothroyd – sitting in a car waiting for Lauren Jaeger to walk out of her house. Now for the sake of helping her survive this case, I’m going to have to look past her lies and whatever else she’s done in her past. Right now, none of that counts. And as for the truth, Joanne, for weeks now, I haven’t been able to tell exactly when you’ve been honest with us. You told us the Alma Poulter lead came from your council colleague. Come on! We both know that was a stretch. And there’s more, but we’ll leave it there, shall we? Just to be clear, just to make sure you hear what I’m saying. I want you to stop digging into my past! I want you to stop permanently. Don’t dredge up my schooldays or anything else without consulting me ever again. And don’t ever go discussing my cases or clients either. That’s way of out of line.”
Play With Fire Page 10
