by Olly Jarvis
He stopped and turned, eyebrows half-raised. ‘What?’
‘Your beard,’ she said, rubbing her own chin. ‘I noticed how well trimmed it is. Great grooming.’ She took out a pen and held it on the front of the file. ‘I’d love to know who you use?’
He didn’t respond to the jibe, any reaction stayed behind the eyes.
McDonald smirked.
Chapter Forty-One
‘Hey.’ Greg held out his arms.
‘Hey.’ Lizzie fell into his embrace.
Neither moved, nor spoke. She felt safe. So much had happened since he last held her.
‘Back to London already?’ he enquired, seeing the half-packed holdall on the bed.
‘You’re not getting rid of me that easily,’ she joked, detaching herself from his chest. ‘I’m going to stay with my mum for a bit.’
‘That’s great. At the Gonville?’ His face broke into a smile. ‘So, you’re not going home for Easter?’
She didn’t want to lie to him. ‘Not much point if she’s here and I don’t fancy being on my own, so she’s going to rent somewhere for us.’
‘Makes sense,’ he said, moving a strand of hair away from her face and kissing her forehead. ‘And does that mean I will get to see you too?’
A coy smile. ‘I think that could be arranged.’
He kissed her lips. ‘I’ve missed you.’
‘Me too.’
‘I’ve been so worried.’ He stroked her hair then kissed her again. ‘What actually happened?’
She ended the embrace. ‘Do you mind if we don’t talk about it?’ She could see he was crushed but trying to hide it. ‘It’s just that I’ve been at the police station all morning and—’
He put his finger on her lips. ‘I get it.’
She pushed him back onto the bed, narrowly missing the bag. ‘I suppose you’re not all bad,’ she teased.
He reached up and pulled her onto him. ‘Just be careful of that Jay guy.’
She raised her head so she could see his face. ‘Where did that come from?’
His expression was suddenly grave. ‘I’ve been asking around about him.’
She got off him and sat on the side of the bed. ‘Why?’
He put a hand on her thigh. ‘I was concerned.’
She studied him. ‘Jealous, more like.’
‘That’s not fair.’ He sat up. ‘You told me people with knives broke into his apartment.’
Maybe she was being unfair. The last twenty-four hours had been so confusing.
‘I’m told he’s got a nasty temper.’
‘Really?’ She remembered the way he gripped her arms on the Piece.
In a more conciliatory tone, he said, ‘I don’t like telling tales, that’s not normally my style.’
She had to know the rest. ‘But?’
He touched her arm. ‘But I care about you, a lot.’
She felt reassured. ‘What else did you find out?’
He sighed. ‘That he’s the go-to guy for cocaine.’
‘What?’ Lizzie jumped off the bed. ‘A drug dealer? Who told you that?’
‘A few of the politics lot, it was pretty much common knowledge.’
She put a hand on her forehead. ‘I don’t believe it.’
Greg remained cool. ‘He’s not Pablo Escobar or anything, just fifty pound wraps to undergrads.’
She still wasn’t convinced. ‘How come you knew his surname to ask around?’
‘I didn’t, still don’t. Everyone knows him as Jay, the gardener at Gonville – or was, he’s left apparently.’
She sat back down. She felt like she’d been hit by a truck.
‘I wondered whether that had something to do with the robbery?’ he floated. ‘Maybe he owed money to someone up the chain?’
Had Jay really lied about everything? The implications began to sink in – she had to tell her mother. Her head fell into her hands.
Chapter Forty-Two
Broady was the first to arrive. ‘Not bad,’ he said, putting down his stuff and checking out the living area.
Ella had rented a penthouse in an aparthotel by the station. ‘It’s got three bedrooms,’ she said, ‘Jay can have the sofa bed in here.’
‘They may already know about this place,’ he said.
Ella sighed. ‘I know, but it might buy us a bit of time.’
Broady agreed.
‘You and baby are in there,’ she said, deadpan, pointing to one of the bedrooms.
‘Very funny.’ he said. ‘You cooking something?’
‘Chilli,’ she explained, switching her attention to the pan on the hob.
He breathed in. ‘Smells good.’
Strangely, she felt slightly embarrassed to be doing something so domestic. ‘How did it go with McDonald?’
‘Good,’ he replied, taking some folded sheets of paper out of his jacket pocket. He spread them out on the dining table in the centre of the living area.
The buzzer went. Ella opened the door. It was Lizzie. ‘You all right?’ she asked, reading the stress in her daughter’s face. ‘Jay not with you?’
‘No, I had to go and see Greg.’
Ella gave her a closer inspection. ‘Everything OK?’
She frowned. ‘Yeah, I didn’t tell him anything, if that’s what you’re asking.’
‘No, I just wondered if you got the laptop?’
‘No, I left that to Jay,’ came the sheepish reply.
Ella made a face. ‘Did you give him the money?’
‘Yeah, why? Don’t you trust him?’ she snapped.
‘Of course I do.’ Something wasn’t right. ‘What’s wrong, Lizzie?’
Her daughter’s shoulders dropped as if the air was being let out of her. ‘There’s something I’ve got to tell you…’
The buzzer went again. ‘Hang on,’ said Ella.
It was Jay. He came through the door and clocked everyone. ‘Am I late?’ he said, dropping his bag and opening the zip. He pulled out two laptops and handed them to Ella, then reached back in and pulled out four pay-as-you-go phones, still in the packaging. ‘I was thinking,’ he said. ‘Best not to go online in the apartment, they could be monitoring anything that comes from the IP address.’
‘That’s sensible,’ Broady replied.
‘Jay, can I have a word, please,’ Lizzie ordered, going into one of the bedrooms.
Jay looked at the others, then followed her in.
The door shut.
‘What’s all that about?’ Broady asked.
‘No idea.’ Ella replied.
Lizzie pointed a finger in Jay’s face. ‘I know.’
‘Know what?’
She analysed every contour, in readiness for the reaction. ‘You deal drugs.’
‘Eh?’ He took a step back. ‘What are you talking about?’
‘You heard,’ she said, firmly.
He moved towards her. ‘I don’t know where you got that from, but it’s bollocks.’
She tried to read him, see behind the eyes. ‘Was that what the robbery was about?’
He threw his arms up in the air. ‘I don’t believe this.’
She continued to examine every gesture.
He gave her one of his intense stares. ‘You know me, Lizzie.’
‘Do I?’ Her eyes welled up. ‘That’s just it, I don’t. All I really know is that you were up on charges.’
‘I was innocent,’ he protested. ‘Who told you this? McDonald?’
‘It doesn’t matter who?’
He couldn’t stand still. ‘It does to me,’ he shouted. He stopped. He seemed to be studying her now. ‘Wait a minute. Was it Greg?’
She glanced off, unable to hold eye-contact.
His eyes narrowed. ‘It was, wasn’t it?’
She didn’t respond at first. ‘No,’ was the best she could do.
He scoffed. ‘Bullshit. Don’t tell me, he’s the jealous type?’ He sneered. ‘Won’t be long before he’s knocking you about.’
‘Hey!’ She di
dn’t know what to think. ‘I’ve got to tell my mother.’
He gripped her arm. ‘No.’
‘I have to.’ She pulled herself free.
He sat down heavily on the bed. ‘But it’s lies,’ he protested. ‘You know she’ll kick me off the job?’
‘She might believe you,’ Lizzie replied, a morsel of sympathy showing through.
‘No,’ replied firmly. ‘She wouldn’t take the risk.’
Lizzie knew he was right.
He gazed up at her, pleading. ‘This is the first interesting thing I’ve done in a long time, ever. I want to be part of a team, belong to something.’ He suddenly looked like a lost child. Much younger than his nineteen years. ‘You saved my life last night,’ he said with great sincerity. ‘Risked your own. I would never lie to you.’
Exasperated, she looked skywards and said, ‘Fucking hell, Jay.’ She bent down and stared into his eyes, searching for the truth. She sighed. ‘All right.’
Jay’s face lost some of its tension. ‘Thank you.’
‘Don’t make me regret this,’ she said in her sternest voice.
He stood up. ‘You won’t.’
She had a horrible feeling that she would.
Chapter Forty-Three
Broady beckoned them over as he spread some maps out on the table. ‘Come and check this out.’
Ella scrutinised her daughter. ‘What were you going to tell me?’
Lizzie glanced at Jay. ‘Oh, I can’t remember, nothing important.’
Ella wasn’t convinced.
‘So, this is the map of King’s Parade,’ said Broady. ‘And that’s the cell-site,’ he said, sticking his finger on the page. ‘It covers a few colleges but also De Jure, which is probably where he was when his phone rang.’
All four crowded around the table.
He pulled out another map, half covered by the first. ‘This is the location of the London cell-site, right next to St Pancras Station. Not much help – I figure he’d just come in on the train from Cambridge.’
‘No,’ said Ella. ‘He’d come in at either Liverpool Street or King’s Cross, which is a bit further away.’ She put her finger on the map. ‘Here.’
‘OK,’ he replied. ‘Let’s come back to that.’ He pointed to another map. ‘The third site is here, in Oxford.’ He tapped a finger on the spot. ‘The mast is on top of a theatre called The Sheldonian.’
‘It’s a huge concert hall,’ said Ella. ‘Part of the university. She peered closer at the map. ‘It’s right next to the Bodleian.’
‘Bodleian?’ asked Broady.
‘The Bodleian Library. One of the most important libraries in England, second only to—’ she stopped. ‘Show me the London map again.’
Broady slid it across the table.
Ella took a closer look. Her eyes widened. ‘It’s not St Pancras.’ She put her finger on the other side of the Euston Road. ‘It’s the British Library.’
‘Coincidence?’ asked Broady.
‘Mathematically,’ Jay replied, ‘I say it’s not. Of all the thousands of cell-sites in England, our two are next to the two biggest libraries in Britain.’
‘I agree,’ said Ella.
‘So, what was he looking for?’ asked Broady.
‘We’re just going to have to figure it out,’ said Lizzie.
Ella nodded. She wanted to build up some momentum. ‘Jay, let’s just go over what you bought.’
‘Sure,’ he replied, picking up one of the phones. ‘We have one each. You’ll need to save each other’s numbers.’ He handed them out. ‘We should try and use these from now on and keep our smart phones turned off whenever possible.’ He picked up one of the laptops. ‘This is the decoy. I will go online in the apartment and do some dummy searches. If anyone’s eavesdropping, hopefully they will follow my misdirects.’
Ella was impressed.
‘This is for real work,’ Jay continued, pointing to the other laptop. ‘But we only search away from the apartment, to avoid the IP address.’
‘He knows his shit,’ said Broady.
Lizzie shot Jay an anxious glance.
His face gave nothing away.
‘OK,’ said Ella, taking a deep breath. ‘That brings us to this.’ She held up the memory stick. She turned towards Broady. ‘Matthew’s brother, Cameron Shepherd, sent me a note just before he died with a riddle about Darrell Duppa.’
Broady’s brow furrowed. ‘What? The guy who built the Duppa house in Phoenix?’
‘Yes,’ Ella replied, handing him the stick. ‘Then I found that hidden inside a book about Duppa in Matthew’s room.’
Broady rolled it over on his palm. ‘Hell, I knew there was something.’
Ella wasn’t so buoyant. ‘But we need to work out the password.’
‘Oh,’ Broady replied, sounding less excited. ‘How are we going to do that?
‘Jay reckons he can do it. Let’s see?’ She handed him the stick.
He inserted it in the side of one of the laptops. ‘Let’s start by going through all the contact you had with Cameron.’
‘Just a single phone call,’ Ella replied. ‘Then, after he’s dead, I get this in the post.’ She pulled the envelope out of her handbag. ‘A short clip on a CD of Matthew as a kid and this note.’ She read it aloud, finishing with, ‘Just in case, Cam.’
‘He was expecting trouble,’ observed Broady. ‘Let’s watch the footage,’
They all huddled around the laptop.
‘Nervous looking kid,’ Broady remarked. ‘Didn’t look like he’d amount to much.’
‘Have you got to be the quarterback to amount to anything in the States?’ Jay retorted.
‘Gees, you English are so touchy.’
‘All right, that’s enough,’ said Ella. ‘Anyone got any ideas?’
‘He wanted you to have it,’ said Jay. ‘Which means you have the password.’
Ella hadn’t thought of it like that.
‘He wouldn’t send you directions to something you couldn’t open.’
‘Maybe he thought he’d open it when he got here?’ suggested Lizzie.
‘No, it was just in case he didn’t make it,’ said Jay, dismissing her argument. ‘Let’s go through the conversation you had.’
‘Ok.’ Ella sat down on one of the chairs and cast her mind back. ‘It was a very short call. He complained about De Jure. Said they hadn’t taken Matthew’s disappearance seriously. Said he would’ve called him.’ She tried to remember more detail. ‘He said Matthew’s room kept getting broken into. Desmond didn’t take it seriously as everyone thought Matthew was paranoid. I think he used the word nuts.’
Throughout Ella’s monologue, Jay put in possible passwords. ‘Keep going.’
‘I said that people had labelled him autistic or aspergic but he said that labels didn’t apply to a mind like his.’ She recalled some more. ‘Discussed getting the red eye from Phoenix, that was about it.’
Jay kept trying different words.
‘Oh, there was something else.’
They were all listening intently.
‘He told me Matthew once rang him, said he’d found a new way of looking at things. Something to do with Peter Sutcliffe.’
‘Peter who?’ asked Broady.
‘Sutcliffe,’ said Ella. ‘He was a serial murderer in the eighties. Killed women, mainly prostitutes.’
‘He was known as the Yorkshire Ripper,’ said Lizzie.
‘Yeah,’ said Ella. ‘Because the murders were around Leeds and Bradford.’
Broady scratched his head. ‘Why would a guy from Arizona be interested in English murders that happened before he was born?’
Nobody had an answer.
Jay kept trying combinations of the words being thrown up, but still the folder wouldn’t open.
The process helped Ella to remember more. ‘He said Matthew kept repeating: “Elementary, my dear Watson”.’
‘Hey, that’s from Sherlock Holmes,’ said Broady.
‘Yeah, Cameron
said to him “no shit Sherlock” and Matthew found that funny.’
‘Oh shit!’ Jay sat back in his chair and put his hands behind his head. ‘It’s saying we’ve got three more tries before the folder corrupts itself.’
‘You’re kidding?’ said Ella, getting up to pace around the room.
‘I’ve tried everything I can think of related to what you’ve said. There’s no way Cameron created the password.’
‘How do you know?’ Ella asked, stopping to stare at the screen.
‘It’s a sophisticated block. Matthew sent the letter to his brother. It’s Matthew who set the password.’
Ella grimaced.
‘Let’s just put on the brakes for a minute,’ Broady suggested. ‘What has Peter Sutcliffe got to do with Sherlock Holmes?’
No one had an answer.
‘Holmes,’ Jay whispered to himself. Then louder: ‘Holmes. The Holmes computer?’
‘Of course,’ Ella replied, ‘which was introduced after the Sutcliffe case. It’s got to be. Well done.’
Jay’s face broke into a beaming smile.
‘You’re going to have to fill me in,’ said Broady.
‘It was the last big murder investigation before computers were used in crime detection.’ Ella couldn’t get her words out fast enough. ‘The police investigation went on for years and everything was recorded on individual cards – millions of them. They had rooms full of the bloody things.’
‘Wait a minute,’ said Broady. ‘I think I read about this in some training manual.’ He frowned. ‘Didn’t they interview the suspect a few times?’
‘That’s right, nine times,’ said Ella. ‘But they didn’t realise. Each time he got nicked they thought it was the first time, they didn’t realise they already had the answers.’
‘Jesus,’ said Broady.
‘So, they invented the Holmes computer system,’ said Jay, proudly, ‘so they could cross-reference huge amounts of information.’
‘Desmond said something about Matthew…’ said Ella. ‘To him it was all about joining the dots, seeing the bigger picture.’
‘You think Matthew learned from that case?’ asked Lizzie. ‘How to approach what he was doing?’
‘I reckon,’ said Ella.
