Strategy

by Anita Waller

  She froze. How fucking dare he speak like that? Something snapped in her head and control went by the wayside.

  ‘DI Gainsborough,’ she called.

  Gainsborough turned at the sound of his name, and he realised it was Erin trying to attract his attention.

  ‘Erin,’ he said, and moved towards her. ‘How are you, and how’s Michael?’

  ‘We’re okay. Dad gets a bit better every day. Can I introduce you to my ex-boyfriend?’ She felt Sebastian stiffen and take a step back.

  Gainsborough smiled. ‘I believe we met at the hospital?’ He held out his hand. ‘It’s Sebastian, isn’t it?’

  ‘Sebastian West.’ Erin’s tone was icy cold. The anger inside was burning her, but outwardly, she was freezing.

  Sebastian looked at her, then at Gainsborough, aware of something in the air, but not sure what it was.

  ‘Sebastian West is now my ex-boyfriend, because he is living with someone else. Her name is Jenny Carbrook.’

  It only took a second for the importance of Erin’s words to sink into Gainsborough’s brain, but, in that second, Sebastian had turned to run.

  Gainsborough lifted a hand and two plain clothes officers appeared. Sebastian crumpled. He wasn’t going anywhere.

  ‘Cuff him,’ Gainsborough said quietly, aware of the occasion, and not wanting to cause further ripples.

  Erin handed him a piece of paper. ‘This is his address. I followed him in my dad’s car and saw Jenny there. I came straight home, didn’t tell him what I knew. I imagine she’s there now waiting for him to report back and tell her how her little girl’s funeral’s gone.’

  From the corner of his eye, Mark saw Sebastian being shepherded away; he groaned. He should have been by Erin’s side. He tried to move towards where Gainsborough was speaking to her, but he was still hearing condolences from mourners.

  Gainsborough ushered Erin to one side. ‘How long have you had this information?’

  ‘Not long.’

  ‘Not long? How long is not long?’

  ‘DI Gainsborough, I got him here for you so that bitch is on her own and he can’t help her escape. Does it really matter how long I’ve known? Now, stop pratting around with me. I’ve committed no crime, but, by God, she has. Go and get her.’

  He stared at her, nodded, and turned to walk away. He then stopped and looked back. ‘You be at the station at ten o’clock tomorrow morning to make a statement, or else. Does that give you long enough to sort out your stories?’

  She stared at him stone-faced. ‘Maybe,’ she said, and watched as he walked away, shaking his head.

  Sebastian had disappeared, and she presumed he was now in the back of a police car somewhere.

  Caro and Luc had said nothing. They had figured she had covered everything and it was best if they kept out of it, until they were dragged screaming into it.

  Erin made her way towards Mark. She stood on tiptoe to whisper in his ear. ‘You knew I’d do that, didn’t you?’

  He put his arm around her and held her tightly. ‘Unplanned things generally work out for the best,’ he murmured. ‘They’ve got him?’

  She nodded. ‘Handcuffs on before he could argue about it. And now, Gainsborough’s galloping off into the sunset to get to Seb’s address to pick up Jenny. Something good had to come out of this bloody awful day, Mark.’

  There were only half a dozen people left, and the family members began to head towards the funeral cars. Erin set off for the car park, where she found Michael and Joy already settled and waiting for her.

  ‘Seb?’ Michael queried.

  ‘In handcuffs,’ she said.

  Joy looked at both of them. ‘I won’t ask …’

  Erin gave a small smile. ‘Trust me, Joy, over the next four weeks, life could get really interesting for you. I’ll fill you in tomorrow, because I think we’ll know more then, but, for today, I suggest you live in blissful ignorance. Today, Mark and Adam need our support, not the problems which are going to cascade down on us from a great height.’

  ‘I’m only here for your dad, Erin,’ she responded. ‘Family matters don’t concern me, unless they impact on your dad’s recovery. I won’t ask. Tell me if you want to, or have to.’

  Erin slipped the car into drive. Within a few minutes, they were back at Lindum Lodge, and Mark and Tim helped Michael into his wheelchair. He looked grey, and Joy insisted he go to his own apartment. He didn’t even argue with her, just held up a hand in acquiescence. He felt drained. It seemed the woman who had deliberately run him over was about to be taken into custody, and right now, he didn’t give a damn.

  Adam and Grace had been the shining lights in his life, and he had just been to a funeral of one of them. Everything else paled into insignificance.

  Joy helped him into bed, gave him an extra pain-killer and went to get him some food. When she returned, he was fast asleep. She had been right to cover his plate with plastic wrap.

  She took her own plate into her room; she didn’t want to intrude on the family’s grief. She picked up her book, but found it difficult to concentrate. Maybe Erin should talk to her, let her know what the problem was, so she wasn’t unprepared if anything were to happen which could set Michael’s recovery back. She sighed, and picked up a sandwich.

  And they had seemed such a nice, level-headed family …

  Gainsborough’s car, followed by two marked police vehicles, sped up to the address handed over by Erin.

  He sent two officers down the side of the house and round to the back door, then knocked on the front door. There was no response.

  He tried again. Silence.

  He nodded at one of the officers standing with him, and he headed back to his car to get the Enforcer. He returned, lowered his eye protectors, and swung the heavy implement. The door was solid, and it took two swings to force it open. They entered the house, cries of ‘Police!’echoing around the place.

  The officers moved from room to room, continuing to make their presence known. They encountered silence.

  ‘She’s not here, sir, but I believe she was. There’s ladies’ clothes in the wardrobe, so she’s not taken her things. Maybe she’s coming back?’

  ‘And maybe she got West out of the house so she could disappear again. And we’ve no idea what car she’s driving, or even if she is. She could have taken a taxi to the station, could have caught a bus, but I’ll stake everything on her having done a runner.’

  Gainsborough paused for a moment, contemplating their next move.

  ‘Right, here’s what we do. Sanders, Barrett, you two stay here. Park down the road so it doesn’t look as though you’re covering this place. If a car comes here, you drive straight up and block it in, because she’s going to see that front door as soon as pulls on to the drive. I don’t think she will come back here, but we’ve got to cover that possibility.’

  Both men nodded, and walked towards their car.

  Gainsborough turned to the others. ‘Right. We’re going through this house. I need proof she has been living here, then I can charge that bastard back at the station with harbouring a criminal and whatever else I can throw at him. Move our cars around the corner on that side road, so they’re out of sight.’

  Two officers moved to do as instructed, and the three remaining, including Gainsborough, climbed the stairs.

  In the bathroom, he found a hairbrush. He put it in an evidence bag, and used a second one for a pink toothbrush. He knew they had DNA from the samples taken from Jenny’s car, which had proved to be Jenny’s, and he guessed the DNA from the hairbrush and toothbrush would match to the car DNA.

  There was a laptop, which they seized, but he figured that probably belonged to West, rather than Jenny. There was no mobile phone, no purse, nothing which would give them a positive ID on the woman who clearly lived there.

  Until he found the book. There was a full bookcase of books, mainly crime novels, and he pulled two or three of them out and flicked through them to see if anything fell out – he hoped
for an envelope with a name which had been used for a bookmark, but he was unlucky.

  Searching through a couple, he finally withdrew one called A Stranger’s Eyes, by an author called Andrew Carbrook. The frontispiece was signed.

  From one Carbrook to another Carbrook!

  To Jenny,

  Best wishes,

  Andrew Carbrook

  ‘Bingo,’ he breathed to himself. ‘Carl, little job for you. I need you to finish looking through every one of these books. See if you can find a piece of paper, an envelope, anything that can link us to her. These are her books, not West’s.’

  ‘Okay, sir,’ the young constable responded, and sat on the floor to begin with the bottom row. On the third shelf up, he found it. The envelope had been ripped in half, but on the front, was visible handwriting.

  Mrs. J. Carb

  Lindum Lod

  Shenfield Cr

  Lincoln

  ‘Gotcha!’ he said, and Gainsborough moved towards him, holding open an evidence bag.

  ‘Book and envelope,’ he said, sealing it.

  Two books from the same bookcase would convince any jury she had been resident here. He told Carl to carry on, until every book had been checked, and then, when he felt sure they had taken enough for the moment, he moved everyone outside, and back into cars to head to the station. Sanders and Barratt remained in place, although privately, all the officers thought she was long gone – the elusive Jenny Carbrook.

  Gainsborough walked into his office and sat at his desk, swivelling his chair to stare out of the window. His thoughts drifted back to the funeral, the absolute devastation of a family, and to the little girl he had seen lying on that muddy bank, lifeless. Although the letter of the law could lay no blame at Jenny Carbrook’s feet for Grace’s death, he intended to pursue her for kidnap, attempted murder, and leaving the scene of an accident, as well as murder. He wanted her put away for the maximum time possible.

  And he would start with Sebastian West.

  38

  Sebastian realised he was in considerable bother. Harbouring someone who had almost killed a man with her car, and had kidnapped her own daughter, wasn’t going to sit easy with any jury. He was frantically trying to decide if he could plead ignorance of her crimes, and knew he couldn’t. Realistically, he knew he wouldn’t be seeing Jenny again for a long time.

  He had asked for them to send for his own solicitor, and he was expecting James to arrive shortly, which left him with time to think. He had been shocked to the core to hear Erin say ‘ex-boyfriend,’ and the enormity of the problem he was about to face had hit him like a sledgehammer. She had known there was someone else.

  After, he had heard her use the name Jenny Carbrook, and his initial reaction had been to run, with that idea being quickly squashed by two men he had assumed were family members there to give Grace a massive send-off.

  The result was him sitting in a pokey interview room, waiting for God knows what, presumably Gainsborough, to turn up. By now, they must have arrested Jenny.

  She would be distraught. His heart ached for her. She wasn’t bad; it was just a set of circumstances which had spiralled out of control. He would get her the best defence lawyer and help her in that way.

  ‘Jenny,’ he muttered out loud, ‘we should have gone when I said. We shouldn’t have held on for this funeral.’

  The door opened, and a uniformed PC stood there.

  ‘Can you follow me, sir. Your brief has arrived, and I’ll take you to him.’

  ‘Thank God for that. I need to get out of here.’

  ‘Yes, sir, of course you do,’ and the PC stepped aside, as Sebastian walked past him. ‘Last door on the right, sir.’

  As he entered the small room, James remained seated at the table. ‘Seb. We have things to discuss. Then, I’ll go through to the interview room with you.’

  Jenny stuck to the speed limits all the way to Sheffield. She had always thought of the city as a safe haven for her, just as it had been for Anna at the beginning of her great escape from Ray. About one, she parked in a lay-by, switched her radio to Classic FM, and thought about Grace.

  She had been a very pretty baby, slow to talk, but walking by ten months. Adam had adored her, and he had always protected her. It occurred to Jenny he hadn’t protected her from the actions of her own mother. She wished she had been able to see her play the flute, instead of hearing the slightly muffled version as she hid behind the stage of the school hall.

  At quarter past one, she said the words of the Lord’s prayer, finishing with ‘God bless you, baby,’ and started up the car.

  Driving past Clumber filled her with calmness, as always, and she put her foot down slightly, chillingly aware of speed limits. She did not want a police stop for driving too fast.

  She drove along the Parkway into Sheffield City Centre, wondering just when the Council would pull out their finger and get the road re-surfaced. It was the main link from the motorway into the centre, and it was full of potholes.

  She followed the route down on to Derek Dooley Way and arrived in the car park of the apartment block. Anna’s apartment block, where she had found a peace, of sorts.

  She sat for a while, letting her thoughts wash over her, and glanced at her watch. Almost three o’clock. Sebastian would be arriving home anytime soon, and he wouldn’t know where she was. She hadn’t left a note. She figured it was better just to leave his life, let him get on with finding someone new without the burden of Jenny Carbrook, kidnapper, attempted murderer and, of course, the bit he didn’t know about, murderer.

  She had loved him, but he would never be the love of her life. That was Mark.

  She had kept quiet for Mark’s sake, swallowed angry, regretful words which could have poured out of her, allowed Ray Carbrook to intimidate her from afar, until she hit back.

  Jenny climbed out of the car, picked up her backpack and, after locking the car she dropped the keys inside her bag. She checked everything she needed was inside the bag, before putting both straps across her shoulders; she walked across to the number plate outside the entrance to the apartments. She hesitated momentarily, before keying in 83.

  There was a pause of about thirty seconds, before the speaker box crackled, and she heard Jon say, ‘Hello.’

  ‘Jon?’

  ‘Yes. Who is it?’

  ‘It’s Jenny Carbrook. Can I come up?’

  There was a longer pause this time, and then, the speaker crackled again. ‘What do you want, Jenny?’

  ‘I just need someone to talk to, someone who’s not judgmental. Please, is Lissy there?’

  ‘She is. But …’

  ‘Jon, just ten minutes, please.’

  There was another pause, and she heard the door click open. She pushed against it and walked into the entrance area, then across to the lifts. She pressed the up button.

  It arrived, and she stepped aside, as an elderly lady pushing a toddler in a pushchair stepped out.

  ‘Thank you,’ the woman smiled. ‘I’m taking him for a walk in the hope he’ll fall asleep.’

  Jenny smiled. ‘Good luck with that.’

  She stepped in the lift and quickly pressed the button for the fifth floor. The doors opened, and Jon was standing there.

  ‘Bag,’ he said, and held out his hand.

  Jenny slipped off the backpack and handed it to him. ‘No guns, no knives,’ she promised.

  ‘You’ll forgive me for not believing a word you say?’ He opened the bag and peered inside. There was an envelope, a phone, and a small purse. He checked each zipped pocket, opened her purse, then, handed the bag back to her.

  ‘Sorry, Jenny, but I had to be sure.’

  She nodded. ‘I know. I would have done the same.’

  He held out his arm and steered her towards his door. ‘Lissy’s inside.’

  She went in front of him, putting her bag back on her shoulders, and waited until he unlocked the door.

  Lissy was in the lounge, on the sofa. She had a dre
ss spread out at the side of her, and had clearly been working on it.

  Jenny moved across and bent to kiss her cheek.

  ‘Can I …?’ She indicated the armchair.

  ‘Of course,’ Lissy said, with a smile. ‘Would you like a drink?’

  Jenny shook her head. ‘No thanks, I’m not here for long. My head’s in a whirl, as you can probably imagine. Did you know I’d lost Grace?’

  Lissy nodded. ‘Yes, we did. I’m so sorry. Mark rang us. So, why us? Why Sheffield? Is it because Anna was happy here? You do know the whole country is looking for you, and we have to tell the police you’re here?’

  ‘Of course, I knew that when I came. I just need to feel grounded, if that’s the right word. Just for a few minutes, I need to feel at peace with myself. And that’s how you made me feel, Lissy, you and Anna. And the view from both your balconies, the silence, even though we’re in the heart of the city, never failed to soothe me. I just wanted to feel that one last time, before DI Gainsborough locks me away for ever.’

  Lissy reached across and touched her hand. ‘You have about two minutes, Jenny.’

  She turned to Jon. ‘You’ve already …?’

  He nodded. ‘I’m a solicitor, Jenny, an upholder of the law, not a breaker of it. I had to ring them. I was on the phone while you travelled in the lift.’

  She stood. ‘Then, is it okay …?’ She gestured towards the patio doors, which were slightly open to allow the cooling breeze into the room.

  ‘Of course.’ Despite Jenny’s horrific crimes, Lissy ached for the woman. ‘Go and breathe the air.’

  Jenny opened the doors and slipped through on to the balcony. She adjusted the strap of the backpack slightly; it felt uncomfortable. She leaned over and breathed deeply. She loved this city – it’s hustle and bustle. She felt safe here. She placed one of the patio chairs nearer to the surrounding glass wall, and sat down.

  Lissy and Jon watched from inside, both dreading the knock on the door. Although they could in no way condone what she had done, neither of them relished seeing Jenny being taken away in handcuffs.