Home Help (DI Falle Book 2)

by Gwyn GB

  Claire couldn't get to sleep and so instead she did some research on her phone, reading up on the prognosis and treatment for dementia, until her eyes were too tired to focus. Life was so unfair.

  33

  Rachel, Saturday 11th November 2017, Jersey

  Rachel flattened the last of her clothes into the suitcase. It was nearly time to leave. She was almost done and her flight was Sunday morning. She planned on being out pretty much all day tomorrow with Susan Falle. They'd a lot to do, so it was easier to get herself packed now - just in case things went wrong and she needed to leave in a hurry.

  It had been a productive trip and a relaxing one. Getting to know Claire's family had been interesting. Her mother was very chatty, she'd not held back.

  Having Claire in Jersey had been difficult because she'd been so tempted to contact her and talk things through. She’d held back though, knowing that if she didn't it might not work out so well for her.

  34

  Claire, Saturday 11th November 2017, Jersey

  Saturday morning, Claire woke up and had a few seconds of blissful forgetfulness, before she remembered the conversation she'd had with her mother last night. It was hard to take in, even though she'd known something was up and it had crossed her mind more than once. She kept thinking about how frightened her mother must be. She just couldn't imagine knowing something like that.

  Claire tried to distract herself by thinking about the investigation. It had been almost a week since David Lyle was killed and well over a week since she'd had a day off. She was really tired this morning, the case was weighing on her mind. She felt as though they were still missing something crucial, a connection that was just not obvious. It was hard to stay focused though when she had so many other things clamouring in her head. There's her father and the potential for damage if he did or said anything about the case. Her mother's bombshell and the suspected sighting of Rachel. Maybe she was losing her mind too. She certainly felt like she was sometimes.

  Claire looked around her parents' spare bedroom. It had been hers once, but when she'd announced that she wasn't coming back to Jersey after University, her dad had told her to sort out her stuff as they would be redecorating it. She tried to remember how it had been. One wall used to be covered in little splodges of blue, dried up blue-tac that had held posters and photographs and refused to fully let go of the wall when requested. Posters of Boyzone and S Club 7 had been replaced by Ronan Keating and Blue, and eventually more mature cult music idols such as Bowie. She'd spent hours, days, months, at the little desk by the window, revising for her exams, determined to escape and see the big wide world. Escape the over-bearing nature of her father and his suffocating control. The big pile of teddies and soft toys that had sat on the shelf by her bed, were now encased in a bag away from the moths up in the attic. When she’d put them away it had been symbolic, her transition into adulthood.

  'You can give them to your children,' her mother had said as they'd packaged them all up.

  Even then, Claire had doubts there ever would be children of her own to pass the toys on to.

  For some reason, those thoughts brought Rachel back into her mind and she wondered again where she might be, who she was with. If she could solve this case and get back in the Force's good books, then maybe Rachel wouldn't haunt her like she had, she wouldn't imagine her everywhere she went.

  Finally, Mark's smile entered her mind and she rolled over and sent him a text. 'Hope you're having a good weekend, looking forward to coming back and seeing you soon x' she wrote. She wondered if there were any legs to their relationship, was it just a nice fling or something deeper? She had to admit to herself that on her part it was seeming like the latter, but they'd not discussed anything yet. It was early days. She got a warm buzz inside when her phone almost immediately beeped back at her and Mark's name popped up in her texts. 'Lying in bed thinking about you. Wish you were here too x'. That would do nicely, she thought and headed off into the shower.

  Claire picked Bob up from his hotel, he was looking decidedly relaxed as he walked towards the car.

  'Good sleep?' she asked him.

  'Yeah. I think the sea air is knocking me out,' he positively smiled at her. Jersey clearly agreed with him.

  'Good, well we're off to St Brelade, you'll like it there. Shame the sun's not shining I'd have bought you an ice cream.'

  Claire's not sure if it was the Saturday vibe, her boss's good nature or, more likely, the text from Mark, but her mood had lifted a little. Her mum's condition still weighed on her mind, but at least she didn't need to face up to her dad this morning. He was clearly avoiding her because he wasn't home when she went to bed last night and he was still asleep when she left. Her mother had also seemed in a better mood, perhaps sharing her news had already helped. They'd eaten breakfast together and she'd seemed fine, chatting about how she and Theresa were going for a drive around the island and the things she was going to show her. Maybe that's what her mother needed, more company and stimulation. Theresa seemed to have brightened her week, although Claire felt guilty because it should have been her doing all these things. She felt gratitude towards this woman who she didn't even know.

  'Impressive' was Bob's remark as they drew up to the gates of the Parkin household, 'this must cost a packet. Are we sure he's not in financial trouble?'

  'Absolutely no signs of it that we can determine which is why I find it a little odd that he would risk all this. He's already worth millions. He has everything he needs in life, why put it on the line for a few more million?'

  'Mhhm I have to agree, although as you know, money isn't always the motivation, getting one over on someone or the challenge of getting away with something can also be a big incentive. Do you remember that Judge who was done for shoplifting? She appeared to have everything she needed too, but she absolutely loved the buzz of stealing and getting away with it. It's just eventually it catches up with you and unfortunately if you're like her and the buzz is the act itself, then you just don't think you're going to get caught. Maybe he's bored, maybe all this is just too easy.'

  'True, but what about the murders?'

  'If he was about to be outed, desperate men do desperate things.'

  'Yup but James Parkin doesn't strike me as desperate. I still think we are missing something which is staring us straight in the eye.'

  Staring them both straight in the eye when they got out of the car, was Melanie Parkin. She wasn’t quite so immaculate today as the last time Claire had been round. Her make-up looked as though it had been applied with more haste and she wore jeans and a baggy jumper. Her face firmly set in a scowl.

  'You people have no idea what you are doing,' she said to them, 'Once this is all cleared up and you realise James is innocent, you are going to have one big complaint on your hands.' Her arms were folded across her chest defensively, but her stance was defiant.

  'Good morning Mrs Parkin, I'm DCI Robert Walsh, you've met my colleague DI Claire Falle before.'

  Melanie gave Claire a look as though she'd just trodden in her on a footpath.

  'Would you mind if we came in and talked through a few things?'

  'When is my husband coming home?' Melanie demanded, as she turned to go into the house.

  'He has been charged with offences relating to insider trading and will be in court Monday morning. I'm afraid I can't tell you whether the Judge will grant bail, Mrs Parkin. Your husband might well be viewed as a serious flight risk due to the nature of the offences and the possibility he could have money elsewhere.'

  Melanie Parkin's face quivered and she looked as though she might be about to burst into tears.

  'This is ridiculous, absolutely ludicrous. Do you realise we have our Christmas ball coming up? James is our Master of Ceremonies. Everyone will be talking about this.'

  Bob chose to ignore Melanie's somewhat shallow concerns.

  'Mrs Parkin, we aren't investigating the financial irregularities, we are trying to solve the murders of Teren
ce Morgan and David Lyle.'

  Her jaw dropped open.

  'You don't seriously think James had anything to do with that!'

  'At the moment Mrs Parkin, we have evidence which points to your husband having had a business relationship with Mr Morgan. We know that Mr Lyle was coming over to Jersey to see Mr Morgan to discuss something he had discovered while working here. While we believe that the murders were committed by a professional, we also believe that someone else arranged them. Our investigations are ongoing, but we have a duty to investigate your husband due to the nature of his relationship with Mr Morgan.'

  Melanie Parkin burst into tears at this point, and shook her head in disbelief at what she was hearing.

  'You have got this so wrong, it is simply not true. James didn't know either of those men. You are going to ruin us.'

  'Mrs Parkin, when I last came to see you,' Claire said, 'your husband told me he wasn't here last Tuesday when a phone call was made from this house to Terry Morgan. However, we have since found out that he could indeed have made that phone call because he left the office at around 9.40am to come home and change his shirt.'

  'Yes, but he was literally just straight in and out again, he didn't even come and say hello. It was just a few minutes. He had asked me to take a shirt to him, but I had my committee meeting and when he found out he had a break, he came home himself.'

  'So you knew he came home?' Bob confirmed.

  'Yes, but not to make a phone call. Anyone could have made that call. There were six other people in the house besides James.'

  Claire thought for a moment, 'Six as well as James or not including him? You told me that there were just five of you in the committee.'

  'There are, but Gillian was here, our cleaner. She could just as easily have made that phone call as anyone else.'

  'Mrs Parkin, this is the first time you have mentioned that your cleaner was in the house. Can you let me have her full name and address please?'

  'Yes of course, but I gave it to the other man yesterday.'

  'What other man?'

  'The older officer who came round in the afternoon just before James was arrested. He said he was double checking a few things and I told him about Gillian then.'

  'Was he definitely a police officer? Did you see his ID?' Bob asked.

  Claire was beginning to get a feeling of dread. Surely not. Surely her dad wouldn't have.

  'Well, no I don't remember seeing an ID. He said he knew James from the golf club. Never go there myself, I find it all too dull.'

  Claire's heart beat twice as fast.

  'Could you describe him?' Bob pressed.

  'Grey hair, in his sixties, I don't know, biggish build. He looked like a police officer and spoke like one.'

  'What about the CCTV cameras on the gates, could we get the footage from those to see if this man was indeed one of our officers?'

  'Oh really? You think he might not have been? Well unfortunately those cameras are dummy ones. We've never had any security issues here.'

  Claire was suddenly very grateful for Melanie's cerebral failings and Jersey's low crime rate.

  Claire's mind was unable to concentrate on the interview anymore and she let Bob ask Melanie a few more questions before they thanked her and left. She needed to get hold of her dad. He'd been effectively impersonating a police officer and carrying out his own investigation. He really had completely over-stepped the mark now.

  'She's a selfish one,' Bob said as soon as they were back in the car. 'Didn't once ask how her husband is, all she's concerned about is what people are going to say. She doesn't strike me as having an obvious motive to set him up, does she to you? I think she's happy with her lot.'

  Claire murmured agreement and pretended to concentrate on driving rather than the conversation.

  'We need to find out if our mystery caller yesterday is one of the Jersey team. If it is, why wasn't that information about the cleaner logged on the system, and if he's not then who is he? Is he related to our murders?'

  Claire felt sick, she could barely bring herself to reply to Bob all the way back. Her dad had now managed to muddy their investigation by interfering. She should tell Bob so he could be discounted and it didn't waste time, but if she told him then she was also going to have to explain how her dad knew James Parkin was a suspect before he was even arrested. A headache pounded at her right eye. The morning was not going well. What should she do?

  35

  Claire, Saturday 11th November 2017, Jersey

  The minute Claire got out of earshot of Bob she called home.

  'Hello love,' her mum cheerily replied.

  'Mum is dad there?'

  'No, you've literally just missed him love. Theresa is here though and we're just about to head out too. Why don't you try your dad's mobile if you need him? Or I can leave him a message.'

  'Thanks mum, I'll try his mobile. Speak to you later. Have fun.'

  Her dad's mobile rang out and to his voice message.

  'Dad call me urgently, you have got to stop what you are doing. I know that you went to see Melanie Parkin and now my boss wants to know who you are and if you might be involved in this case. Call me as soon as you get this.'

  Claire's head was imploding. What should she do? Come clean now and hope that Bob understood, or just ignore it and hope it got forgotten about? Perhaps they'd think it was a reporter or someone trying to get information out of Melanie.

  When she got back to the incident room, Ed, the CCTV guy came up to her. 'Hi Claire, have you looked at that CCTV footage I sent you yet? Is there anything you need me to enhance?'

  'Thanks Ed I'm sorry, been so busy, I'll take a look now before I head out again.'

  Damn it, she'd been meaning to look at that footage since Tuesday, if it had been Rachel driving that car then she could have already left the island by now. She'd call Gillian Faber, the Parkin's cleaner and arrange a time to see her this afternoon, and then take a look.

  Gillian turned out to be a local woman, with the Jersey twang that sounded a little south African to the unaccustomed ear. She was quite happy to meet later on.

  'Saturday is usually one of my days at the Parkin's,' she said to Claire, 'but Melanie called up to say I wouldn't be needed today. I hope they'll manage without me.'

  Claire doubted that Melanie had shared the reason why she'd cancelled Gillian's services for the day. Unfortunately, when James appeared in court on Monday, the Jersey Evening Post was likely to ensure that most of the island would know about it.

  Despite the CCTV footage being relevant to their case, Claire felt guilty looking at it because she knew she had an ulterior motive. She made sure Bob wasn't around, feeling a bit like a toddler who didn't realise their parents couldn't read their mind.

  She saw herself arrive at the area, and saw those she remembered clocking on the day. She'd no doubt that the team had already poured over this for any indications that the killer was watching, but she also knew they won't have been looking at the blue Ford Focus that she saw slowly drive past her in the footage.

  It wasn’t easy to see, but she thought that Ed would be able to pull a plate from it. How was she going to explain it though without Bob completely losing the plot with her? She couldn't possibly mention Rachel's name.

  Claire emailed Ed and said she saw a man driving past in a blue Ford Focus, a man she thought could possibly answer the description of their killer. If anyone asked, she'd tell them that on the day she'd seen him but hesitated because she hadn't been sure and didn’t want to miss who it was that David Lyle had arranged to meet. Now she thought she should check it out, it had been bothering her. She asked Ed if he could please enhance it and get the registration plate, see if they could find out who was driving the car. It wasn't a complete lie, but with her dad's latest antics threatening to cause her a real problem, there was no way she was risking the truth.

  Shortly after lunch, Bob and Claire headed off to visit Gillian Faber. They walked because she lived in a
flat in St Helier, just ten minutes from the police station. Town was busy with shoppers getting ready for the Christmas gift rush, so they meandered through the crowds and Claire gave Bob a bit of a tourist tour pointing out the States Chamber where Jersey's government met, and various other landmarks.

  The flat was part of a dingy block that looked like it hadn't been refurbished in decades. Claire suspected it was one of those earmarked for demolition because all around it new shiny office blocks leered at its ugliness. The entrance door lock was broken, so they let themselves in and walked up one flight to flat number 3. A Beware of the Dog sign on the front door created the expectation of a bark when they knocked, but the flat was silent inside. Eventually, there was the sound of a security chain being drawn back on the door and two locks clunked open. Then a woman Claire judged to be in her late fifties, peered around the door.

  'Gillian Faber? DCI Robert Walsh and DI Claire Falle,' Bob showed his ID.

  'Oh yes come on in,' the woman smiled and they followed her into a short corridor with carpet that looked like it had been there since the 1970s.

  Gillian offered them tea or coffee, which they both said no thank you to, and the three of them settled onto faux leather sofas in the sitting room. She was a post-menopausal woman whose waist had spread and hair thinned, and who didn't seem all that bothered. She didn't have any make up on but she was what Claire's father would call, robust. You could tell she still led an active life and with the size of the Parkin's house, it would certainly keep her busy. She clearly had pride in her home, if not in herself, because although there was obviously little of value in the room, it was clean, smart and tidy. There was something about Gillian Faber that was familiar to Claire. She wasn’t sure what or why, but she felt as though she'd seen her before.