by C. D. Neill
He returned to the flat, feeling self-conscious as he re-entered the building. Whilst he was there he spent time cleaning all the rooms. He couldn’t take the chance that he hadn’t left some trace evidence on anything. He had watched enough Forensic science programmes on television to learn you could never be too careful. At regular intervals, he checked out the window. It looked as if there was a third person in the back seat of the car but it was too far away to tell. It was possible that he was simply being watched for now, if the Police were going to come to his flat, they would have done so by now but he couldn’t think of a reason why they would. He stood in the middle of the room weighing up the options. He could leave right now, he could make it down the back stairs and out the fire exit on the ground floor or he could stay where he was and carry on as usual. They would get bored eventually. His thoughts were interrupted by the knocking on his door. He froze in the spot where he stood. The knocking became more persistent but he ignored it until the door caved in at the lock.
He didn’t notice he had lost his mobile until he went to phone her. He had driven only a short distance before abandoning the car and making for the bus stop, where he stood, his hands flapping against the sides of his pockets with the futile hope that he would find the phone caught in the folds of his jacket. People were looking at him suspiciously and he knew he looked bloodied from the altercation with the policeman. The Policeman had fought better than he had expected him too, the man was out of shape but he knew how to react quickly and dodge the blows. The policeman wasn’t a boxer, he couldn’t concentrate enough energy behind his fists but Kelsey shouldn’t have underestimated him. He wouldn’t do so again. From now on, there would be no subtlety behind his attacks. He was going to finish the Policeman for good. He turned away from the bus stop until he found a public telephone in the entrance porch of a supermarket. He told her all the details of the mornings’ events, including where he had deposited the frozen bags and passports. Then he told her about his mobile phone. He didn’t know where he had lost it, it was possible it had dropped during the fight. Her voice was calm, but then it always was. There was no way of predicting the consequences of his mistake but he knew it wouldn’t be just him who suffered.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
The bitter taste in Hammond’s mouth was still there. He bent over the basin with his head cocked at an angle to allow the water to flow from the tap directly into his mouth. He gargled several times in an effort to rid himself of the resentment that filled him. The mirror above the basin taunted him with the face of a cuckolded fool. An old man who had allowed his vanity to cloud his instincts. A man who had allowed himself to believe that a beautiful woman had wanted him. Or had he believed it? Even now, as he stared back at his reflection he knew he hadn’t been convinced by Kathleen’s attention, he had known she wasn’t to be trusted but his loneliness had over-ridden his need to be cautious. He cursed loudly and head-butted the mirror causing it to crack. A red blotch appeared immediately on his forehead. He was really stupid. Not only for letting himself be fooled into bed, now he had to resort to punishing himself. He was tempted to leave the men’s bathroom, to head straight for the interview room where he knew Kathleen had been brought. He understood why he wasn’t allowed to be there, but the anger within him threatened to disregard all protocol and retaliate against his humiliation by storming in and pinning her against the wall until she told him everything. This wasn’t about the suicides of her former foster brothers and sisters anymore, this was bigger than that. He knew it, he had been right not to have trusted her in the beginning. Kathleen had lied from the start. The bitterness rose up again in the back of his throat and he spat out his disgust watching it crawl its way to the plughole. It wouldn’t drain away, not on its’ own anyway, it needed a force greater than itself to wash its putridity away.
Dunn was waiting for him outside the door, she looked at him concerned when she noticed the bruise forming on his forehead but didn’t refer to it. Instead she updated him on the team’s findings as she accompanied him back towards the office.
“The photos on the mobile phone are being looked at to see if any of the children can be identified. Uniform are searching around Kelsey’s apartment block to see if they can find anything that Kelsey may have hidden outside.”
Hammond was surprised that the search had been warranted but said nothing. He was distracted by the thought of what Kathleen might be saying in the interview room. He had many reasons to be concerned. She had threatened to report he had raped her, he didn’t know whether she would fulfil her threat. It was possible she had planned it from the beginning, he didn’t know what she was capable of.
“Who’s interviewing her?” His voice was unjustly curt, but his directness towards Dunn was not taken personally. He didn’t need to explain himself to Dunn, not like with most women.
“Morris, he came back an hour ago. Claims he is fit enough.”
Dunn was interrupted by Galvin who was walking down the corridor towards them.
“They’ve got a positive identification on the body.” Galvin looked awkward as Hammond stopped and waited expectantly.
“I’m sorry. It’s Lloyd Harris. It was his body they found in your house.”
The wait for Morris to emerge from the interview room was short but Hammond had no concept of time. His desperation to know what was being said on the other side of the door threatened to make him incapable of waiting calmly.
Morris came out the door, and closed it quietly behind him. He seemed surprised to see Hammond outside and frowned slightly as if expecting a confrontation.
“The body has been identified as Lloyd Harris.”
Morris’ features gave nothing away, instead his eyes scrutinised Hammond’s face as if trying to gauge how Hammond had taken the news, but there was nothing to see. Hammond felt numb, he couldn’t decide how he felt. He wondered what feelings he should be experiencing now. Possibly grief that a friend had died suddenly, dismay that his friend’s body had been cremated in his house, or complacent. Acceptant of the fact that his life was being ruled by forces he couldn’t comprehend.
“I know. I was told moments ago. I’ve just left her to get used to the idea.” Morris moved his head towards the interview room.
“How did she take the news?”
Morris corrected his posture as he settled into the topic of conversation.
“She behaved as if in shock, she asked me to repeat myself, then she sobbed..but...”
Morris’ brow was furrowed as he described Kathleen’s behaviour.
“I felt as if she were playing for time. It was hard to tell whether she was in genuine disbelief. She suggested that Harris may have wandered to your home in his confusion and got trapped in the fire.”
“What impression did she give you?”
Morris pondered Hammond’s question before answering. “She was prepared for some of the questions. Her speech was rapid when answering although occasionally I would change direction and then her answers were slow and carefully worded. She was giving herself time to think, but so far she’s stuck to her story that Harris was confused and obsessive, that he had left the house in a kind of rage and that she hadn’t seen him since.”
Hammond shifted all his weight onto his good leg. “Do you believe her?”
“She’s only contradicted herself once, but it was enough to raise my suspicions. I asked her how her Father would have travelled from their home in Charing to your place in Stanford and she couldn’t explain how he would have managed the journey. I told her we had checked all bus routes and with the taxi’s; that the only logical possibility was that he had driven himself, in which case, where was the car that he used? She couldn’t give me an answer. She said her Father hadn’t driven since he had been diagnosed with dementia. So then I asked her to offer me an alternative suggestion. I asked it as if I genuinely wanted her opinion and that’s when she slipped up.”
Morris’ arms were folded across his chest with a renewed
air of confidence.
“She suggested that someone had taken him to your house. When I asked who, she said she didn’t know but that they must have tried to help. That whoever the person could have been, they probably did what they thought was for the best. That was odd. She offered a sympathetic explanation for someone she supposedly knows nothing about. So, I suggested Kelsey, maybe it had been him who had offered Harris a lift.”
Hammond leant with his back against the wall. His hands had found their way to his trouser pockets. He now stood in a completely opposite pose to his colleague. Morris the confident one, Hammond portraying a confused and insecure thinker.
“How did she react to Kelsey’s name?”
“Not a flinch, nothing. She expected it. I asked her how she knew Kelsey and she said she knew him as an acquaintance, that she didn’t have much to do with him but the next moment she is talking as if it would not surprise her if Harris had accepted a lift from Kelsey to your house. Now, this is where it got interesting..” Morris’ finger shot forward in a poking motion.
“I asked Kathleen if Kelsey had known where you lived, if so how did he know and why would he be willing to travel to your house? She said that she had known that Kelsey had taken an unhealthy interest in you, that he probably offered to take Harris with the hope that he could confront you.”
“Why?”
“She claimed she didn’t know for sure but suggested he was jealous of your relationship with her.” Morris raised one eyebrow as if questioning the significance of what he was saying.
Hammond felt his forehead tighten in a frown. “But that doesn’t explain how Harris ended up in my kitchen. I wasn’t there to let him in and Jenny would have asked him in if he had called round.”
Morris grinned. “Exactly, her story doesn’t make sense. There’s something else that doesn’t add up. I offered no explanation for her Father’s death. All I told her was that her Father had been found in the remains of your house, that it had not been possible to identify him earlier due to the damage caused by the fire. Not once did she ask me if I thought he would have suffered. Most people would imagine burning to death to be an agonising, frightening death, they need reassurance that their loved ones died quickly or painlessly. Why didn’t she?”
Hammond nodded slowly. “Because she knew he didn’t die in the fire.” He was struck by a thought that seemed relevant. “On the night Lloyd went missing, I was asking her about him and she said. Quote. I called him Dad. Unquote. She used past tense. She must have already known he was dead.”
Morris sucked in his cheek. “Maybe. I think she is involved somehow but I am not convinced that she is guilty of causing Harris’ death or that she knew what Kelsey was up to.”
“What about the phone message?”
Morris shrugged. “Apparently, she can’t remember what she had phoned him about. She paused for a long time as if trying to remember but that is how she protects herself, she gives herself time to think what to say. She’s very controlled with her answers. We can’t say for sure that she was referring to you when she said she tried to make ‘him’ stay. It could have been anyone at any given time.”
Hammond suddenly felt the urge to come clean. “There’s something you should know.” He was about to commit career suicide but it was necessary. Without being forthcoming, there was lesser chance of getting to the truth. Kathleen’s secret would remain hidden and he was sick of playing her games.
“Me and Kathleen...” Hammond could feel the heat rising up his neck towards his face, he glanced up the corridor to make sure he couldn’t be heard by anyone else.
“The other night when you asked me to speak to Kathleen. I didn’t explain why I was there so long. I did try to find out more information but I got sidetracked. We have a history, not much of one, but well, we’ve known each other for years and ...”
Morris leant forward towards Hammond accusingly.”You slept with her?”
Hammond quelled the impulse to step back but waited until Morris did so instead. There was an uneasy silence as Morris massaged the back of his neck, not speaking for several moments before addressing Hammond.
“You’ll have to include it in your report. Your recklessness may have compromised the investigation although I doubt it did. She hasn’t said anything and she could have done, she has had plenty of opportunity. I suggested that her phone message to Kelsey was to prevent him from committing arson. She claims she didn’t know he intended to set fire to the place but she was worried.”
“Yet she did nothing?”
Morris looked at Hammond sharply. “Apparently she said she had tried to persuade you to stay with her rather than go home. Now I understand how.” Morris’ voice trailed off as he continued to study Hammond’s face.
Hammond realised she had told the truth. Kathleen had tried to persuade him to stay that night. She had tried to block his exit from the bedroom door, when that failed, she attempted to seduce him into staying before her attempts to antagonise him enough so that he could easily have turned back into the room to vent out his rage. He remembered her behaviour as being erratic; maybe it had been her desperation to ensure
he didn’t go home. She hadn’t known about Jenny, that Jenny was at the house alone that night.
“But that just substantiates the content of the phone message. What are you going to do?”
Morris sucked in air through his mouth and then released it as a heavy sigh.
“Her story doesn’t add up so I am going to keep on for a little longer and see where it takes us. We need to prove that she is working with Kelsey and why. I can’t think of a motive. She claims she has no idea who Cheryl Bailey was and for the moment I am inclined to believe her.”
“What about this Goodchild woman? She’s Kathleen’s mother. Could she be the missing link? Harris knew her so that could be how he knew Kelsey, maybe they are connected.”
Morris nodded as his hand returned to the door handle. “I’ll give it a go. I’ll keep you posted.”
The door swung shut behind him.
All of Hammond’s energy was rapidly draining away, but his stubbornness kept him at the station. He was in the throes of one of the most complicated cases he had worked on, he had been almost killed twice and humiliated several times yet he knew he was closer to understanding why it had all happened. He just had to concentrate. He sat at one of the desks and rummaged through a drawer until he found a pad of post-it notes. He used them in the same way he had done with the shot glasses, he wrote each idea on a different note until the desk was littered with yellow paper. The first note listed the murders of Cheryl Bailey, Salima Abitboul and possibly Lloyd Harris that he suspected were all connected to the suicides of Mark Callum, Lucas Dean, Claire Bennet and Theresa Davenport. He studied the names, and the information he had gathered on all of them. Then he added Rachel Turner to the list with a question mark. His gut told him that Rachel Turner’s disappearance was not a co-incidence. On the second note he added Kathleen. He suspected that Kathleen’s role was to end his enquiries. He listed all the occasions they had spoken. She had tried to dissuade him for helping Harris at the start, then she had resorted to flirting with him. He remembered the evening when he had taken her to dinner, how at first she had seemed withdrawn and non-responsive then she had left him whilst he had parked the car. Her attitude had completely changed when he joined her inside the restaurant. Kathleen had deliberately encouraged him to drink knowing he wouldn’t be able to drive home. She had attempted to seduce him, which he knew had been planned because she had known there was an available room, all her efforts had been so that his car would be left in the car park, allowing Kelsey the opportunity to disable it. It made him sick to realise how gullible he had been. But what was her motive other than to stop him investigating Mark Callum’s death? He wondered what she had done when she had left him in the car park. She had used the excuse of needing to use the ladies room but maybe she had needed the opportunity to make a phone call, in which case it may
be possible to check Kelsey’s call lists on his mobile and match the date and time with any outgoing calls from her phone.
On the third note he drew a square with Kathleen, Mrs Goodchild, Kelsey and Harris at each corner and a question mark in the centre. He needed to know in what way they were all related. Next he drew a map of Kelsey’s apartment and noted where he had looked, where Edwards had looked and what they had found. He knew this process would be repeated later but he needed to do it with the benefit of a fresh memory. The photographs of the children taken on Kelsey’s camera phone were not enough to suggest that Kelsey had acted inappropriately but it rang alarm bells. He inserted the first DVD into the CD rom drive of the laptop and waited whilst it loaded. He ignored the option to play the movie but instead selected the special features menu. The images that appeared were not what Hammond had feared but he understood the significance of what he was seeing. Children were lined up looking at the camera, boys and girls ranging from pre-teens to young adults. They didn’t smile, their expressions were blank as they approached the camera one at a time. Hammond swallowed, but found his throat had gone dry, the motion caused him to cough.
