A sudden and unexpected cry caused him to snap open his eyes, collapsing the mental picture, thankfully ridding him of the gruesome apparition. It was Fabi. In the kitchen.
She called, ‘Jack, you need to see this ... they’ve found blood.’
28
‘The grave was fresh but it had only just been started and not finished,’ said DI Harrison, smoothing the front of his tie against his shirt as he took his seat at the conference table. Directly behind him, a white board had been set up, displaying a large crime scene photograph of the charred skeleton of Carrie Jefferies mini. Its front end was nose down in a ditch and it was surrounded by charcoal blackened trees and shrivelled bushes caused by the fireball from the car. There were also enlarged snaps of a dark blue ballet pump among dead leaves and a bank debit card lying on top of broken twigs. Her name could just be made out on the card. ‘Operation Artist’ was the official title given to the investigation and that headed up the board. Below that, Carrie's name had been underlined. Her date of birth was missing and her address was shown as Renaissance Cottage. And there still wasn’t a photograph of her, though they now had a digital image compiled by Tammy and James Callaghan, who both said it was a good likeness. There was also a head and shoulders photo of Mathew Alexander with the word SUSPECT emblazoned beneath it in capital letters. ‘It’s hard to say if the grave is connected to the discovery of Carrie’s car, and I am keeping an open mind, though for me, the proximity of a partially dug grave close to her burned out mini, where we’ve also found a number of small bloodstains, and the finding of her shoe and credit card, together with evidence that someone had been dragged through the undergrowth towards the grave, is too much of a coincidence.’ Dick Harrison explored the faces of his team. ‘So we have to ask ourselves why Carrie wasn’t buried and left there. Did something happen to make the killer change his plan? Where is Carrie’s body now? Has it been carried further into the woods and buried there?’ The DI paused, ‘With those questions unanswered, I’ve arranged for a search and rescue dog to be at the scene tomorrow. We’re going to increase the cover of our search and I’m also bringing in another task force team to help. That estate is huge as you know and a lot of it is woodland.’ Slapping his hands palm-flat on the table and centring his gaze on Jack he continued, ‘Right Jack, I want you to tell us what you and Fabi have found at Mathew’s place today.’
Jack eased himself back in his seat and gazed around the table. Clearing his throat, he said, ‘Forensics found evidence of blood stains in the kitchen. It looks as though Mathew’s tried to clean it up with bleach but fortunately for us he’s not been thorough enough. They tell me that despite the contamination there might be enough to enable a DNA analysis, and they’ve recovered hair from a brush she used so they’re going to fast-track it and see if it’s a match to Carrie’s. We should know within forty-eight hours. And they’ve also found particles of glass located in the kitchen. They’ve found the remnants of a couple of wineglasses in the bin outside. It looks as though someone threw the glasses and they’ve smashed over different parts of the kitchen floor.’ Leaning forward, resting his arms on the table he added, ‘And what is even more interesting is there is evidence of a recent fire at the bottom of the garden. It looks as though clothing has been burned. An accelerant was used so sadly forensics can’t get anything from it.’ Following a quick pause, he continued, ‘But what we have got is a pair of muddy walking shoes, which were in a kitchen cupboard, and, as an added bonus we’ve also found a couple of wraps of coke in a drawer in Mathew’s painting studio upstairs. There’s other paraphernalia in there as well which suggests he’s a regular user.’
The DI interjected, engaging looks with Jack, ‘The shoes look promising, especially given that we’ve found Carrie’s car in the woods. They’ve gone off for analysis?’
Jack nodded.
‘And with regard to the drugs … haven’t we heard evidence of that already? Didn’t he use when he was with his model girlfriend, Angel May?’
‘Yes Boss. Emma Kirby gave us that information. She said that it was Mathew who got Angel into using the stuff.’
Dick Harrison flipped his gaze from one detective to another, ‘Very interesting don’t you think? It seems like Mathew Alexander has got quite a few questions to answer.’ Looking at Jack he added, ‘And on that note I want you and Fabi to begin with that tomorrow. I’ve spoken with the hospital and they tell me they can discharge him in the morning. He’s got a couple of cracked ribs but that doesn’t stop us talking to him. I want you and Fabi to check what time he’s being released and arrest him and bring him back for interview. The rest of us, we have our work cut out. Time is no longer on our side. It’s now eleven days since Carrie went missing. Mathew’s cottage is in a relatively quiet location, though he does have to pass a few houses to get to the woods at Boskenna, so I want house-to-house at every possible route he could have taken to get there. Did anyone see Carrie’s mini during the time she went missing? And we visit the Callaghans again. I want more background about Carrie and Mathew, if they can provide it – every facet of their relationship and I want to know the ins-and-outs of every argument they’ve witnessed between the pair. And get back on to the Australian authorities. Press them about Carrie. Tell them that this is now a murder enquiry. We need to find out as much as we can about her.’ Pausing, he slowly gazed around, ‘And before I wind this up I want the suicide of Angel May re-visited. Get back onto the DC who dealt with the job and get the full forensic and pathology reports from her post mortem. The more I hear about Mathew Alexander the more it concerns me.’
29
Slipping down his headphones Mathew Alexander eased himself up in his hospital bed. He grimaced, biting down on his bottom lip. The slightest movement hurt like hell. Pulling his gaze away from his bedside TV he looked over to where the uniform police officer was seated by the door; he had woken up to find him there and he instantly concluded he wasn’t there to protect him.
He’s there to make sure I don’t escape.
Noisily he cleared his throat and tried to get eye-contact but the young officer immediately shied away his gaze. That frustrated him. The officer had been doing this repeatedly all morning and when he’d tried to engage in dialogue he had fared no better with the response from him. All the young man had kept telling him was that he’d been instructed to stay there and not get involved in any form of conversation.
Bringing his notice back to the television the on-screen image grabbed his attention and, with a sense of urgency, he slid on the headphones. The picture of the burned out mini that had been on screen a second earlier was replaced by a man in a suit standing outside a police station. The strap-line running along the bottom announced that it was Detective Inspector Dick Harrison, Devon & Cornwall Police.
He listened to him saying, ‘Carrie Jefferies, a thirty-three-year-old woman, who we believe originates from Australia but is currently living near Boskenna, was reported missing on the twenty-sixth of April. There have been no confirmed sightings of Carrie for eleven days and, as far as we can establish, she has not made any attempt to contact anyone. Earlier today we found her burned out car in the woods at Boskenna and we currently have teams of officers searching that area. We are also searching premises where she’s been living for the past year. We are extremely concerned for her welfare and we are urging anyone who knows Carrie, or anyone who has had any contact with her, or might know anything as to her whereabouts to contact us immediately.’
As the detective finished speaking his name was replaced by a telephone number which travelled slowly along the bottom of the TV.
Mathew pulled off his headphones. He could feel trickles of sweat running down each side of his ribcage. As he glanced over to where the officer was seated one thought occupied his mind – they were coming to arrest him!
30
In the interview room at Penzance police station Jack examined Mathew Tobias Alexander’s face across the desk. The entire right and hand sid
e was swollen and covered in purple bruising and his eye was partially closed. Jack thought he looked more the prize fighter than the artist, though he had no sympathy for him. As far as he was concerned he had got his just deserts. In fact, he was hoping that by the end of the day he would be heaping a whole lot more pain on his aching frame, if this interview went according to plan.
Fabi opened the proceedings by reminding Mathew that he was under caution and informed him that the interview was being videoed. As she talked, the duty solicitor representing Mathew scribbled a note.
Mathew replied, ‘You’re way off beam you know that don’t you?’ The edges of his mouth curled up as he talked and he shuffled uneasily on his seat. The look he bore was one of discomfort.
Raising his eyebrows Jack fixed Mathew with a questioning stare, ‘You look uncomfortable there Mathew. Are you okay?’
‘It’s just my ribs. It hurts when I talk. In fact, it hurts when I do anything.’
‘Well if things get unbearable for you let us know and we’ll stop, but in the meantime as you’ve been discharged from the hospital we’ll continue with this interview.’ Trying to hide the sarcasm in his voice Jack leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table. ‘That comment you’ve just made. Why do you say that Mathew?’
‘Well first of all how do you know Carrie’s dead? Have you found her body?’
‘Are you expecting us to find a body?’
Mathew’s expression changed to one of shock-horror, ‘No. You’ve got this all wrong I haven’t done anything to Carrie. I wouldn’t hurt Carrie for the world. It wasn’t me who did that to her mini. You need to be looking for someone else for this.’
‘Who should we be looking for then?’
‘Well trying to find whoever ran me off the road would be a good start. They could have killed me. It could be the same person.’
‘And who do you think that might be? Have you an idea?’
He shrugged his shoulders. ‘I don’t know, do I? That’s your job isn’t it? You should be trying to find that out instead of dragging in an innocent man from his hospital bed.’
‘I can assure you your accident is being investigated as we speak, and as for being dragged out of your hospital bed, you were discharged this lunchtime. You are here Mathew, because we’re trying to find out what’s happened to Carrie.’
‘And that’s what I’d like to find out.’
‘Good we’re singing from the same hymn sheet then. Now can I just take you back to when you last saw Carrie. Sunday the twenty-sixth.’
‘What about it?’
‘Well, earlier you had an argument didn’t you at the Callaghan's where you were having a meal?’
Mathew offered back a nonchalant look.
‘Tell us about it. How it started.’
‘I can’t remember how it started I’d had a fair bit to drink. I’ve been under a bit of pressure of late and things just got on top of me. When they do I just snap. I know it was my fault. I’ve apologised to James and Tammy about it.’
‘Do you remember what it was about?’
‘Not really. It wasn’t much. I just lost my cool and had a go at Carrie. I regret it now.’
Jack decided not to press at this stage. He said, ‘We’re told that Carrie drove you home from the Callaghan’s’
Mathew nodded.
‘Did you go straight home?’
For a moment he seemed to think about the question, then, he answered, ‘Yes I think so. I was fairly blasted by that time. Yes, I’m sure Carrie drove straight home. I can’t remember stopping anywhere if that’s what you mean.’
‘And what about when you got home?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Did the argument continue?’
‘I don’t remember much. As I say, I’d had a fair bit to drink. To be honest I was pissed.’
‘Who threw the glass?’
Mathew’s mouth dropped open and he was quiet for a brief spell. Then, he replied, ‘What glass?’
‘We found the remains of two wineglasses in your bin. And we also found fragments on your kitchen floor.’
‘I don’t remember. I was smashed out of my skull. I’ve already told you.’ There was a strain of tension in his response.
‘Is this getting to you Mathew? I detect a little agitation in your tone.’
He exerted himself, screwing up his face before answering, ‘Agitation? I’m fucking angry! And so would you be if you were sat in my place. I get dragged out of my hospital bed with three busted ribs and told I’m being arrested for murder. How would you react?’
‘We’ve already clarified this Mathew you weren’t dragged out of bed. The doctor discharged you.’
‘You know what I fucking mean.’
‘Please don’t swear Mathew. I’m not swearing at you.’
For a moment Mathew locked eyes. Then, taking a deep breath he replied, ‘Sorry.’
‘Apology accepted. Now let’s get to the matter in hand. Just putting aside the broken glasses for a moment. Did you carry on arguing when you got home?’
‘I don’t remember. I’ve told you I was drunk.’
‘What do you remember?’
‘Nothing much about that night. I woke up just before eleven the next morning and Carrie had gone.’
‘When you say gone? ... ’
‘She hadn’t slept in the bed. She hadn’t slept in the spare room. When I got up the front and back doors were unlocked, her car had gone and she’d taken her handbag with all her personal stuff. That’s it.’
‘And did you try to contact her?’
‘Yes. I rung her mobile several times and she didn’t answer. And I rang James to see if she’d gone there.’
‘Did you have any concerns?’
‘Concerns?’
‘Yes, that something might have happened to her?’
‘No, not really. I thought she’d gone off in a huff because of our argument.’
‘But you just said you don’t remember much about the argument. Now you say you thought she’d gone off in a huff because of it, so it must have been pretty bad between you.’
‘Look we rowed at James and Tammy’s. I know I said some nasty things to her that I’m not proud of now, but what I mean is that after we’d got home I don’t remember anything at all.’
‘And you don’t remember anything about the broken glasses?’
He shook his head, ‘No.’
‘And what about the blood?’
Mathew flashed a hesitant look, ‘Blood?’
‘Yes the blood in the kitchen that you tried to clean up?’
On that note the duty solicitor shot up his head from his notebook, quickly glancing sideways at Mathew. Then, he set his eyes on Jack. ‘Detectives I’d like to stop the interview there. I need to speak with my client.’
31
Upstairs in the CID office Jack was sitting at his desk, one leg up, calf resting along the edge. Two-handed he held a mug full of steaming tea and a beaming smile lit up his face. Opposite, at her desk, Fabi had her head down, going through her pre-interview notes.
‘That looks like a victorious grin Jack,’ said DI Harrison appearing from his office.
‘Just hit Mathew with the broken glass and the blood evidence. You should have seen his face.’
‘A picture?’
‘A bloody Mona Lisa. He’s now having a scrum-down with his brief. He stopped the interview unfortunately’
‘You’re going back down?’
‘I’m giving them twenty minutes and then Fabi and I are going down for the kill.’
As Jack went to take a drink of his tea his desk phone rang.
***
Jack lowered himself into the seat across from Mathew Alexander, trying to catch his eyes but Mathew avoided him, glancing down at the table. Jack smiled to himself as he shuffled into a comfortable position.
The duty solicitor was the first to speak. ‘My client would like to make a statement.’
Jack interlo
cked his fingers and cracked back his knuckles. ‘That’s fine, but we would like to ask him more questions.’ He glanced at Fabi and gave a slight nod.
She started the recording machine and reminded Mathew he was still under caution.
Jack released his fingers and placed his hands palm flat. ‘Mathew when we finished our last interview I was about to ask you about the blood we found in your kitchen. Would you now like to explain that?’
‘Look I panicked about that, that’s why I didn’t tell you. I’ve spoken with my solicitor and I want to tell you the truth.’
‘That would be appreciated.’
‘The honest answer is I don’t know how the two glasses got broken, or how the blood got there, although some of it was mine – I stood on the broken glass in my bare feet. I cut the bottom of my foot.’
‘You say some of it?’
‘Yes there was a small pool near the fridge door. It had dried up. It wasn’t mine I checked.’
‘So it was Carrie’s?’
He shrugged his shoulders, ‘I don’t know. Like I say I don’t remember. I’ve already told you I’d had a fair bit to drink that night.’
‘What you are telling me is that you can remember being driven home but you can’t remember anything after that. The crucial bits about the broken glass or how blood got on to the kitchen floor.’
‘It’s exactly that. Honestly. I can’t even remember going to bed. My mind’s a complete blank. I was pissed. I think we argued when we got home but I genuinely can’t remember. I just remember getting up the next morning and Carrie had gone. Taken her bag and the car – like I told you.’
‘So why didn’t you say that when I first raised it? And why did you clean up the blood with bleach?’
Chasing Ghosts: A Detective Jack Buchan Novel Page 11
