On her way to the mortuary, she went to speak to Chris. He insisted that he hadn’t known Louise was due to arrive back at Euston at seven fifteen. So there was no point in asking him whether he might have told anyone else about the time of Louise’s train.
‘I knew she was coming back that day, but we didn’t discuss train timetables. And I didn’t tell anyone she was coming back from Birmingham. I never mentioned Louise to anyone else. We kept our relationship strictly between the two of us.’
The pathology technician led Geraldine into the waiting room where Louise’s parents were sitting side by side on the sofa. They were holding hands. Neither of them appeared old enough to have an adult daughter. As Geraldine drew closer she saw they looked older than she had first thought. Mrs Johnson pulled her hand away from her husband’s and gave a tight smile.
‘We can’t believe it,’ she whispered. ‘We can’t believe it…’ Her voice petered out.
Her husband sat silently staring at the box of tissues on the table in front of them as though he might collapse if he moved. Perhaps he would. Geraldine addressed his wife.
‘Mrs Johnson, it’s good of you to come here…’
‘What do you mean? She was our daughter.’
Her husband stirred for the first time. ‘I suppose there’s no possibility – I mean, it is definitely her?’
‘We are almost certain.’
‘Let’s not hang about any more then, let’s go and make sure, one way or the other. This could all be a horrendous mistake.’ He stood up.
‘I wonder if I could ask you a few questions first?’
‘No. I’d prefer to see the body now, if possible. Let’s get this over with.’
Geraldine realised she had been naive to expect them to sit talking when they had not even confirmed that the dead woman was their daughter. She turned and led them out of the waiting area and through the door into the chapel where the body lay waiting for them. The identification was immediate. With a cry, Mrs Johnson fell on her knees beside the body, and stroked her dead daughter’s hair as she sobbed her name. Mr Johnson, surprisingly stoical, turned to Geraldine and nodded.
‘That’s her,’ he said. ‘That’s our Louise. Come on, Emmie, don’t take on so. She’s out of harm’s way now.’
Taking his wife by the elbow, he helped her to her feet and guided her out of the room. She was crying so hard, she wouldn’t have been able to find her way unaided. Geraldine escorted them back to the waiting room and offered them tea.
‘Do you know what happened?’ Mr Johnson asked her. ‘Can you tell us how she died?’
‘It was murder, wasn’t it?’ his wife hissed. ‘Why else would she be here?’
She glared at Geraldine as though her presence was in some way to blame for their daughter’s death.
As delicately as she could, Geraldine explained that Louise had died while locked in a confined space.
‘We think she may have been trapped in the boot of a car,’ she added.
‘The boot of a car? What the hell was she doing in the boot of a car?’ Mr Johnson replied.
‘I said it was murder, didn’t I?’ his wife repeated.
‘Was there someone else involved?’ he asked.
Geraldine described how they had seen a man meet her at Euston station. ‘After that, we could find no trace of her. We need to find that man. He knew what time her train was arriving at Euston station that Wednesday.’
She gave them the date and the time of the train.
‘Birmingham?’ her mother echoed. ‘What was she doing in Birmingham?’
That question seemed to answer Geraldine’s question, but she persevered nonetheless.
‘Did Louise give either of you any information about her journey?’
The couple looked at one another, nonplussed.
‘We didn’t even know she was going to Birmingham, did we, Emmie?’
His wife shook her head. ‘She never said. What was she going there for?’
‘She was going on a course.’
‘Oh yes,’ Mrs Johnson said, ‘she did mention it. A hairdressing course. She’s a hairdresser in London – oh,’ she broke off in consternation.
‘Did she tell you what time she would be back in London?’
It was clear that Louise’s parents knew nothing about Louise’s travel arrangements that day. They couldn’t have told anyone the time of their daughter’s train.
‘Can you think of anyone who might have wanted to harm your daughter?’
‘No.’
‘Was she happy in her marriage?’
Louise’s father scowled. ‘Look, this was obviously a tragic accident. No one would have wanted to hurt our Lou. She was a hairdresser, for goodness sake, not a member of a gang.’
All Geraldine could do was reiterate her condolences and promise to let them know of any developments in the investigation into Louise’s death.
‘There’ll be an inquest, I suppose?’ her father asked. ‘We want to know what happened.’
‘That won’t bring her back,’ his wife said. She was crying again.
Geraldine assured them that they would be notified. She didn’t add that she hoped there would be a trial, not an inquest. On her return to the police station she learned that Louise’s phone and email records had so far produced no results. It was beginning to look as though Louise had told someone herself, in person. And if that person had been her killer, he was hardly likely to admit that she had told him she would be arriving at Euston at seven fifteen on the night she was murdered. The hunt for the man with no face was going nowhere.
42
Geraldine was sitting in Adam’s office discussing their progress, before a briefing of the whole team. They were both feeling frustrated. The more Geraldine thought about it, the more convenient it seemed for Jamie’s unknown killer that Chris had lost his alibi. And now Louise had been murdered.
‘Louise must have been killed to stop her giving Chris an alibi. Why would anyone bother to silence her, unless Chris’s alibi is genuine?’
‘To begin with, we don’t know that Louise was murdered. We know she died in a small space, probably a car boot, although we’ve not had any luck in tracing the vehicle she was in yet. Chris was brought in on Tuesday morning, but Louise died some time on Monday night. So it looks as though he could well be responsible for her death.’
‘Why would he want to remove his own alibi? And what about the footprints?’
‘He could have been wearing the wrong shoes,’ Adam said irritably. ‘I think he met her at Euston station and she told him she’d decided against giving him an alibi, for whatever reason, I’m guessing because it wasn’t true. He kept her locked up somewhere, while he tried to coerce her into changing her mind. Hence the injuries she sustained while he attempted to force her to agree. Whether or not he actually intended to kill her when he put her in the boot of the car is anybody’s guess, and we may never find out the truth of it. But kill her he did. If we hadn’t released him when we did…’
‘For lack of evidence,’ Geraldine pointed out.
‘We need to find that car,’ Adam said.
She nodded. A team of technicians were working on enhancing images of all the vehicles that had driven past the park the night Louise’s body had been dumped there. It was unfortunate that there were no working cameras immediately outside the park, which would have enabled them to see if anyone had stopped there. By comparing the times cars passed cameras a few miles on either side of the park, they were able to eliminate some of the vehicles. The drivers would not have had enough time to stop, carry the body across the grass, return to their vehicles and reach the next camera along the road when they did. With such limited records, it was the best they could do. So far images of four cars had been sent for enhancement so the registration numbers could be read.
�
�Her death could have been an accident,’ Geraldine suggested. ‘Is it possible she was trying to hide from Chris because she’d decided not to lie for him after all? She might have persuaded a friend to hide her in the boot of his car and drive her out of the area so she could get away without being spotted. She must have known he’d be looking for her.’
‘And this friend of hers beat her up?’
‘No, that must have been Chris. She managed to escape from him but died, and that’s why her friend drove to the park.’
‘Instead of calling us?’
‘Perhaps her friend was frightened.’
‘This is all mere speculation,’ Adam snapped, as she had predicted he would. ‘We need more information. We could sit here talking all night but it won’t get us any closer to the truth.’
Geraldine was silent. This was where she and her senior investigating officer differed. Where he insisted on working outwards from established facts, she thought it was sometimes necessary to form a feasible hypothesis and look for facts to prove or disprove her theory. Without that framework, she didn’t always know what facts to look for. Between them, she and Adam made a formidable team, thanks to their different approaches. Although she would never have admitted as much to Adam, occasionally she wondered whether the same thought ever occurred to him.
‘There’s no denying it’s very convenient for someone that Louise can’t give Chris an alibi,’ she said, remembering Ian’s conclusions.
‘Convenient for whom?’
She shrugged. ‘Not for Chris.’
The identity of the bearded man who had met Louise at Euston station continued to elude them. After the briefing, which did nothing to move the investigation forward, Geraldine went to speak to Chris. He was sitting quietly in his cell, his knees drawn up to his chin, his lanky arms wrapped around his shins. He barely looked up when Geraldine entered.
‘You again,’ he said, sullen but not belligerent.
‘I have some bad news for you.’
‘Don’t tell me, I’m being arrested for murdering my wife. Oh no, wait a minute, you’ve already done that. So what could this bad news be? I mean, what can possibly seem bad after that? It must be the apocalypse, and it’s somehow all my fault. Or a meteor’s about to hit the earth, and I’m to blame. Or perhaps a tsunami’s about to engulf the whole of the British Isles? Because I can’t think of anything that could possibly be worse than being accused of murdering someone you loved.’
‘Loved?’
‘Yes, loved. Oh, I know I was having an affair with Louise, and yes, I loved her too. I thought she felt the same way, God help me. It is possible to love more than one person, you know? Or is love something you know nothing about, Inspector?’
Geraldine gazed solemnly down at him. ‘I’m afraid Louise is dead.’
‘What?’
There was something peculiar about his reaction. Although he winced in distress, he didn’t seem surprised. When he spoke, his voice was completely devoid of emotion. He could have been talking about the weather.
‘What happened?’
Geraldine hesitated before explaining that she was not in a position to tell him any more. Chris’s expression altered and his face flushed.
‘Tell me what happened to her,’ he insisted.
‘I’m sorry, Chris.’
She turned and knocked on the door.
‘Is that it?’ he cried out as the door swung open. ‘Why would you come in here and tell me she’s dead, if that’s all you’re going to say?’
‘I thought you’d want to know.’
‘I want to know what happened to her.’
There was something pathetic about his pleading.
Geraldine spoke softly. ‘I’m afraid Louise was murdered.’
All at once, Chris’s self-control snapped. He dropped his face in his hands and sobbed. At last he regained his composure sufficiently to look up.
‘That’s why she never came forward,’ he mumbled.
Geraldine nodded. ‘So it would appear.’
‘I thought…’ He broke off, tears sliding down his cheeks unchecked.
‘You realise you’ve lost your alibi,’ Geraldine said gently.
‘I know you won’t believe me, but I loved them both,’ he whispered. ‘I loved them.’
The door slammed shut behind Geraldine and she walked away lost in thought.
43
He stared at the empty bed. It was heartbreaking. She had always been so frightened. All he had ever wanted to do was protect her. He regretted having let his anger get the better of him. If only he had kept his temper, she would still be there, safe and well. It was his own fault that she had gone. He understood that. But he would find her again, and next time he would be more careful. He’d look after her properly, so that she never again felt frightened or threatened. It was his responsibility to keep her safe. He wouldn’t fail her again. His big mistake had been allowing her to leave the room at all. Up there she had been free from any outside threat. If only he had kept her there, where no one could touch her, she would still be safe.
He couldn’t believe she had gone. He had only left her in the boot for a few hours. His plan had been to drive her out of London, somewhere remote out towards Hertfordshire. There were woods off the road to Watford that were usually deserted. He used to take her there when she was a child, before going out for tea. Revisiting her childhood haunts would have calmed her down and reassured her that he wanted only to take care of her. Instead of that, she was gone.
There was no time to sit at home, fretting. All that mattered now was finding his daughter who was out on the streets again, waiting for him to find her. She could be in danger, lost and alone. Wherever she was, she needed him. Everywhere he turned, people were trying to stop him from taking care of his daughter. But he wouldn’t be thwarted for much longer, not now he knew how much she needed him.
Before he set off, blindly searching, he sat down in his neat kitchen with a mug of tea to make plans. His daughter liked to go out in the evenings. Although it would be easier to spot her in the daylight, she was more likely to be out and about, walking along the street, after dark. He would wait until dusk to go out. There were several bars and clubs she liked to frequent, but he was not sure of their names. She had talked about Covent Garden, and Camden. There had been other places, but he couldn’t remember where they were. Camden wasn’t far away. He decided to start there.
Finishing his tea, he washed up his cup. It only needed rinsing but he used a small squirt of washing up liquid, even though he was in the house by himself. Old habits died hard. Besides, his daughter would be back soon and he wanted everything clean and orderly for her return. He would find her in Camden and bring her home with him. This time he would not let her leave the house again, not for anything. She could beg and plead as much as she liked, and insist that she was an adult and free to live her own life, but he knew what was best for her. In time she would understand that he was only thinking of her welfare.
He was going to keep her safe. This time, they would both wear masks, just as she liked to do when she was a child. It had been one of her favourite games, dressing up and putting on the masks she made. She had always been clever like that. He smiled, because soon they would be playing her games together, and she would never leave him again.
44
The café near Arnos Grove station was quiet, and not very well lit. The meeting place had been Helena’s choice. There were only half a dozen small tables, all of them empty. Geraldine was the only customer. An olive-skinned man behind the counter served her a coffee, and she settled down to wait. After staring at the chipped table and the grubby tiled floor for about twenty minutes, she was forced to accept that her sister was not going to turn up. Ordering another coffee, she resolved to finish it and leave. And after that she decided to wait another five minutes.
Geraldine offered to buy her sister a coffee. With a grunt, Helena reached for a menu. As she leaned over the table, Geraldine caught a whiff of stale cigarette smoke. The laminated sheet trembled in her hand.
‘I’ll have the all-day breakfast,’ she called out to the man behind the counter. ‘Well this is nice, innit?’ she added, giving Geraldine her lopsided grin. ‘Aren’t you having nothing at all? This place not good enough? I expect you’re used to better.’ She spoke without rancour.
Geraldine shrugged. ‘I’m fine. And this place is fine too. I’m not hungry, that’s all.’
‘Why’s that then? You on uppers?’
‘You know I don’t take drugs.’
Helena grinned. ‘Well, no need for us to get off on the wrong foot,’ she said. ‘It wouldn’t have been right of you to try and get your hands on what mum left you, not when you were never there for her, not like I was. She always promised everything was going to come to me. She wasn’t thinking straight at the end or she’d never have changed her mind, not in a million years. I thought you’d got at her to change her will at the last minute. You have to admit, it looked bad. It’s not like you’re stupid. You’d have thought the same in my place. All those years you never showed any interest in us and then you show up, right at the last minute, just when there’s dosh up for grabs, have a chat with mum, and then bang wallop she changes her will so you get half of what’s been promised to me.’
Geraldine didn’t answer. There was no point in reiterating that it had been Milly Blake’s decision not to meet the daughter she had named Erin, and also to change her will. The waiter brought Helena’s breakfast. Geraldine was relieved to see she had a healthy appetite despite her emaciated figure.
‘So,’ Helena said when she had finished. ‘What’s the plan?’
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