‘Becky, have you got Lauren’s number?’
Becky nodded.
‘Can you get her on the phone, please?’
As Becky dialled, Tom continued to speak. ‘That last day they swam together, Jennifer had to leave the pool early because she got told off. Can you ask Lauren where Jennifer was waiting for her?’
Becky got his drift immediately, and when Lauren answered the phone she asked the question. She put the phone down and turned to Tom.
‘Jennifer went back to the changing rooms, got dressed and then waited in the café for Lauren. There’s a big glass window that looks over the pool. Jennifer was there for about twenty minutes. By the time Lauren was ready and went to find her she was on her way out of the café so Lauren didn’t see who she might have been speaking to. But she was definitely giving Lauren what she calls her “smug smile”.’
Becky picked up the phone again.
‘Who are you calling?’ Tom asked
‘River View Pool. If we check out the CCTV coming into and going out of the building for the whole period that Lauren and Jennifer were there – maybe an hour either side – we should be able to get stills of any guys who broadly match the description of the man by the fence. We’ll show them to the girls who were closest, see if any of them recognise him.’
*
Tom had just stood up to go to his office when he got a message to say that Mr Bale was downstairs, asking if Tom had time to have a word with him. This was a surprise, but Tom felt a guilty sense of relief that it was only Mr Bale.
As he walked into the interview room, Tom felt a stab of sympathy for Gregory Bale. The man looked shattered, which came as no surprise given the situation. His eyes were bloodshot and his cheeks grey and drawn.
After shaking hands and greeting each other formally, Tom sat down. ‘What can I do for you, Mr Bale?’
‘I hope you don’t mind me dropping in out of the blue, but I thought if I came to see you on my own, it might be easier. My wife is refusing to believe anything Archie told you. She says it’s a pack of lies and it’s all down to his vivid imagination. She wanted to report you, but I got so angry with her that she backed down. I’m sorry, but she’s really struggling with the idea that Jennifer kept secrets from us. She still won’t believe there’s a possibility that she killed herself. Do you know any more now, Mr Douglas?’
Tom knew this man deserved the truth, but he was clearly in so much pain.
‘Nothing has changed, I’m afraid. We’re treating Jennifer’s death as suspicious, but we have no clear evidence that it was anything other than suicide, although we haven’t stopped looking. And even if that’s the case, I want to know what drove her to it. We’ll do everything we can to get answers for you.’
Mr Bale looked down at his hands, and Tom gave him a moment. There was something he had to tell Jennifer’s parents and by coming in to see Tom, Mr Bale had made it easier. He had intended to discuss it with them the day before, after they interviewed Archie, but Mrs Bale’s attitude meant that any conversation about their daughter’s sexual history was probably going to fall on deaf ears. She would have been bound to declare that either the science was wrong, or her daughter had been raped and then murdered.
Why anyone would prefer the thought of their daughter being raped, Tom couldn’t understand. Would you really want to imagine that your child had suffered such fear and pain? He could understand preferring murder to suicide. Both were truly shocking and heartbreaking, but while in the former case parents might blame themselves for not taking greater care of their child, they could still rationalise that it was a random attack. In the case of suicide, all those close to the deceased would feel the weight of guilt, whether it was deserved or not.
‘Mr Bale, there’s one other thing we were planning to discuss with you yesterday, but the timing didn’t seem appropriate.’
‘I’m sorry about my wife, Chief Inspector.’
‘There’s no need to apologise. These are unbelievably difficult times for you both. I know your wife is adamant that Jennifer didn’t have a boyfriend, but I understand you’re less convinced.’
‘Well, I…’ Gregory Bale paused, as if he was about to change his story from the one he had told Becky. No doubt Mrs Bale had been working on him, and Tom interrupted before the man got himself tied in knots.
‘I’m afraid I have to tell you that it seems you were right. Quite how you tell your wife this is up to you, but forensic evidence shows conclusively that your daughter had sexual intercourse fairly recently, and almost certainly more than once.’
Mr Bale said nothing. He didn’t need to; the pain in his eyes said it all.
‘Maybe you could talk to your wife, and in the light of this evidence give some thought to who the boyfriend might have been? We’ll hopefully be able to bring you some photographs early next week of possible boys or young men, but if there’s anyone from your church or your neighbourhood, anyone at all, now that you know that there was definitely someone, it would help.’
‘Right,’ Mr Bale said quietly.
‘Mr Bale, kids of Jennifer’s age can be put under enormous pressure by their peers, so we’re not just focusing on the boyfriend. We’re also looking to see if she was bullied, either at school or via social media. We are looking as widely as we can. Someone or something may well have pushed her into this. We’re not going to stop until we have some answers.’
There was nothing more to say, and after Mr Bale had quietly said goodbye Tom made his way back upstairs. As he walked into the incident room, Keith was pinning up a series of A4 sheets on a board, each of them representing a link to Bernie Gray. Tom stared at them. There was something nagging at him, something he couldn’t quite grasp. But the thought eluded him, and with a frustrated tut he headed back to his office.
38
Scarlett’s legs wouldn’t work. She wanted to run, but the man would easily catch her. She didn’t know what he wanted with her or why she was so frightened, but she had a strong feeling that he was dangerous.
As he got closer she realised that he was probably only in his mid twenties – not so much older than her, but with such assurance as he lazily ambled towards her that the last of her confidence crumbled away.
He stopped a couple of feet away, not too close for it to be uncomfortable, but close enough for her to detect a whiff of a subtle cologne.
‘You were ringing the bell of this apartment, weren’t you?’ he asked, his eyes scrunched up as if he was trying to work something out.
‘Yes.’ There was no point denying it.
‘And yesterday?’
‘Yes.’
‘Has someone sent you here?’
Scarlett didn’t understand the question. What could he mean?
‘No. I live next door, so I came to say hello.’ She could hear her voice quivering and swallowed hard.
The man scanned the corridor as if looking for next door.
‘No, not in this wing.’ Scarlett pointed a shaky finger at the dividing wall, on this side decorated with a well-lit piece of modern art. ‘On the other side.’
He took a step towards her, his head slightly lowered.
‘Sorry?’ He said it like he was asking a question, and turned his head to stare at the wall. ‘You’re telling me that you live in the apartment beyond that wall?’
Scarlett had no idea why this was such a big deal. ‘Yes – me and my mum. We moved in a few days ago. It’s only temporary.’
He looked angry and she felt another rush of fear.
His eyes returned to her face. ‘Martin’s told you this apartment’s unoccupied, though, hasn’t he? So why are you here ringing the bell?’
‘I thought I heard someone in there.’
For the first time the man smiled – as if he had heard a joke – and it changed his face. His eyes crinkled and lost their dead look. ‘What, squatters? Don’t you think I might have noticed, living opposite?’
‘I don’t know. I just heard noises,’ Sc
arlett said, her fear ebbing slightly now that he was smiling.
‘Right. In that case we’d better check it out once and for all then. What’s your name?’
‘Scarlett.’
‘You wait here, Scarlett,’ he said, setting off down the corridor. ‘I’ll be back in a few minutes. Don’t make me have to come and find you.’
Scarlett watched as he disappeared around the corner. Where was he going? What did he mean about checking it out? She noticed that he moved with the grace of a cat, but maybe that was just in comparison to Martin. She didn’t know whether to stay or make a run for it, but the man knew where she lived now. And he had made it clear that he would come for her. She didn’t like the sound of that.
While she was waiting she walked back to the door of the apartment and pressed the bell again, in case everybody was wrong or lying to her. But if they weren’t, where was the laughter coming from? What if she went in there with him and the sounds were all around her, but he couldn’t hear them?
Five minutes later the man came striding back along the corridor, waving a key.
‘Come on, then. Let’s see if there’s one of those laughing clowns that you used to get at funfairs inside. That would explain it.’
She knew he was making fun of her, but she didn’t care. There had to be someone in there. The alternative didn’t bear thinking about.
Scarlett began to feel embarrassed as the man put the key in the lock and pushed the door open.
‘Hello?’ he shouted, and there was an immediate echoing silence. He turned towards her and raised his eyebrows, the sides of his mouth lifting as if to say, ‘You see?’
Scarlett immediately realised the apartment wasn’t like theirs. The door didn’t open straight into the living room. She could see a small hall, and when she poked her head inside there were three doors. She wanted to go in, but not with this man. Nobody knew she was there.
‘Do you want me to wait out here?’ he asked. ‘You can close the door and take the key so I can’t get in to molest you.’
He was laughing at her again. She held out her hand for the key, and he pulled it out of the lock and passed it to her. But then another thought came to her. What if there was someone in there? Wouldn’t that be more dangerous than going in with this man?
She hesitated.
‘Scarlett, I’m not going to hurt you. You know I live in the apartment opposite, so I’d be a bit stupid to do anything you could report to the police, wouldn’t I? And anyway, it’s as dangerous for me as it is for you.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Don’t look so scared. What are you – seventeen?’
‘No! I’m fifteen,’ Scarlett said, pleased that he thought she was so grown-up.
‘Really? But even if I never get closer than three feet from you, you could tell the police that I lured you in and tried to attack you – although it wouldn’t be true. So it’s as much a danger for me as it is for you.’
Scarlett didn’t know what to do and was becoming very sorry that she ever had started this, but she had to make a decision.
‘I won’t lock the door, but will you stay in the corridor, please?’
He laughed but agreed, and Scarlett tiptoed into the hall, earning herself another laugh. She pushed open the door to the left, the room furthest from the dividing wall. It looked like it should probably be the bedroom, but there was no furniture in it. The next door led to a large bathroom with a beautiful roll-top bath.
The man leaned against the doorjamb, his arms folded.
Finally she opened the door to the right – into the room that she knew shared a wall with their apartment. It was an impressive space and at least double the size of their sitting room. To her left was a much larger kitchen with shiny white units, a couple of matching black-glass-fronted built-in ovens and an island, separating the kitchen from what Scarlett assumed was the dining area. The whole of the rest of the room was probably intended to be the lounge. Three large windows gave the room light, in spite of the proximity of the red-brick building on the other side of the road.
But there wasn’t a stick of furniture in the room apart from the kitchen units. She stepped further in and jumped out of her skin when she heard a voice behind her.
‘If anyone is living here, I can only assume they’re happy sitting on the floor. It wouldn’t amuse me for long. How about you?’
He had followed her into the room and was blocking her exit to the hall.
‘But I heard laughing and voices,’ she said.
‘Look,’ he said, walking towards her and reaching out one hand to touch her shoulder with the tips of his fingers. Scarlett flinched slightly at his touch. ‘I can see this is upsetting you. You know someone lived in your apartment before who said she heard things?’
‘I know she thought there were ghosts, but I’ve heard the voices and I thought the sound must be travelling through the ventilation system.’
The man shook his head.
‘I was the first occupant in this wing of the building, and this apartment has never been lived in, so maybe the lady who lived in yours was right.’ He turned in a circle, his arm outstretched as if he were an estate agent, showing the scale and possibilities of the room. ‘You can see for yourself that there’s nobody here now, can’t you, and as far as I can see there’s no evidence that anyone has ever been here either.’ He inclined his head towards her. ‘It must be ghosts after all.’
He was looking at her with a mocking smile, as if she was a silly kid. But then his smile became more genuine. It seemed he had decided to be kind.
‘Come on,’ he said, holding out an arm to indicate the door. ‘Let’s get out of here.’
They walked towards the door.
‘Anyway,’ the man said. ‘What’s a young girl like you doing cooped up at home all day? Shouldn’t you be out somewhere with your mates?’
‘My mates are all back at home.’ Scarlett could feel herself blushing. She didn’t want to explain why she was here in Manchester.
‘So why don’t I give you my mobile number, and if you hear any more noises coming from here, you can give me a call. Does that sound like a plan?’
Feeling relieved that he wasn’t dismissing her completely, Scarlett pulled her mobile from her back pocket and handed it to him so he could put in his number. She felt better knowing that someone knew of her fears.
‘We’ll soon sort it, you’ll see,’ he said. ‘Send me a text so I’ve got your number too, and call me any time if you’re worried. Okay?’
Scarlett nodded. He was okay, really, and not as scary as she thought.
She glanced at the phone, where he had entered his name and number.
‘My name’s Lewis,’ he said.
39
The phone was answered on the second ring.
‘What do you want?’
‘I want to know why the fuck someone’s living in the apartment in the north wing. What the hell are you playing at?’
‘It’s temporary.’
‘Yes, so I’m told. But it’s a bit late now – a kid’s been round here snooping. Says she heard noises through the ventilation system. It’s exactly because of that kind of risk that the place is supposed to stay empty.’
‘What? There shouldn’t have been anything to hear if you’d done what I said. We agreed to lie low for a month or two, so putting somebody in the apartment shouldn’t have been a problem. Why the hell didn’t you stick to the plan?’
‘Because an opportunity presented itself, and it was too good to pass up.’
‘Jesus, you stupid twat. You should have told me, or were you going to leave me out of this one?’
‘Have I ever done that before?’
‘How the fuck would I know? But end it now and wait until I tell you it’s clear.’
‘No can do. This one’s good, and she’s ready. Once or twice more with me and we’re done. Anyway, don’t put this all on me. Why in God’s name did you let them have the place? You can’t hav
e needed the bloody money.’
‘I needed to know where they were.’
‘Why, for fuck’s sake? Who are they? Who’s the girl?’
There was a silence from the end of the phone for a moment.
‘She’s Bernie’s daughter. She’s living there with his widow.’
‘Shit!’
40
It was mid-afternoon before Natalie remembered she had to let Ed know that Alison was going to pick the boxes up. She didn’t know how to handle it, especially after the day before.
It took a while for him to answer the phone, and when he did, he seemed out of breath.
‘Nat, I’m glad you’ve called. We need to talk,’ he said, panting. ‘Sorry. I was in the shower and had to dash down to grab the phone.’
‘I apologise for yesterday,’ Natalie said, feeling embarrassed for the first time ever with this man, not least because of the unwanted image that flashed into her head of water dripping from his naked body.
Ed quickly regained his breath, and his voice was soft as he spoke to her. ‘I need to see you. I wish we hadn’t been interrupted yesterday. I wanted you to look at the camera, to see the pictures for yourself.’
Natalie didn’t know what to say. Whatever had been on the camera yesterday certainly wouldn’t be there today, if it was in any way incriminating.
‘I don’t think it’s a good idea to meet,’ she said. ‘I have to think of Scarlett, and it would give her mixed messages if I said I was leaving her at home so I could see you.’
‘She trusts me, Natalie, even if you don’t.’ There was a touch of bitterness in Ed’s voice. ‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.’
Natalie summoned up the memories of everything that had upset her, from Ed sitting on Scarlett’s bed to him going through Bernie’s belongings, and they strengthened her resolve to say what she had to.
‘I wanted to let you know that Alison’s coming round this evening to collect the boxes from my room. We’re going to store them in her studio for now.’
She heard a sigh. ‘You don’t need to do that, you know. They’re safe here.’
The Sixth Window Page 17
