The Sixth Window

by Rachel Abbott

  ‘Alison Morgan may not have killed Bernie Gray,’ Tom continued, ‘and she may or may not have paid someone to do it for her, but she was bloody up to something. Gray had the website in his notebook, which could suggest he was involved. Who’s to say that he wasn’t in it with Morgan? We only have Megan’s say-so that he wanted to escape from her, rather than with her. If he had information to incriminate Morgan, why in God’s name didn’t he tell someone in Operation Sphere what he believed was going on?’

  It was a rhetorical question, and Becky knew he hadn’t finished.

  ‘Alison Morgan was Amber Blackwood’s teacher – her art teacher, to be precise – who we can assume organised the trip to the art gallery where Amber met Jed, although clearly we need to verify that. But Jed packed up his studio and left before the Sphere team could track him down. There was a leak, and it has to have been Bernie Gray. Was it intentional or was it accidental?’

  They turned the corner and Tom jabbed the lift button with his thumb before he carried on.

  ‘The photos that Jed took were uploaded to a website, and Bernie Gray had the web address and administration rights. Was he involved, or was he spying on Alison Morgan? I’m assuming she’d been selecting the girls and setting up Jed to groom them.’

  There was an idea forming at the back of Becky’s mind, and although she hesitated to interrupt Tom’s chain of thought, it needed saying.

  ‘Tom, it seems the selection of the girls was carefully planned. Amber was picked up at the art gallery, and that must have been prearranged. So it suggests she’d been identified as vulnerable by Morgan, and Jed was waiting for her. In Jennifer’s case, although we thought one of the spectators in the pool café might have been the guy who picked her up, doesn’t it seem a bit random? There was no guarantee she would go into the café.’

  The lift arrived, and Tom turned to look at Becky, a frown on his face.

  ‘Go on.’

  ‘If Jennifer hadn’t been thrown out of the pool for messing about, she would never have been on her own – she’d have been with Lauren all the time and our guy would have had no chance of making his move. We’ve been looking at men she may have met in the café while she was waiting for Lauren, but this operation feels a bit too slick to rely on coincidental meetings. Jennifer was in Alison Morgan’s class and she fitted the profile of a vulnerable girl perfectly. So it seems to me unlikely that any of the men in the café had anything to do with it. If she was being set up, the man had to be somebody she was guaranteed to meet.’

  Tom nodded but said nothing until they had reached their floor and the lift doors opened.

  ‘That makes sense, but I’m not happy to rule anyone out for the moment. It’s a pity Amber Blackwood has gone AWOL. She could have gone through the photos of everyone leaving the pool and may have been able to identify the man she knew as Jed. The question is, have we got enough evidence to arrest Alison Morgan so we can seize her computer to check if she’s been accessing the website? Without that we haven’t got anything.’

  Tom pushed open the door to the incident room and marched through, for once not standing back to let Becky go ahead of him. Usually the gentleman, his thoughts were well and truly elsewhere at that moment.

  ‘What have you got, Keith?’ he shouted before they had even made it halfway across the room.

  Keith leaped up from his seat. ‘The statements from Operation Sphere are interesting. As we know, Sergeant Gray was off duty when they got the call from Crimestoppers giving them a lead to the photographer, but in one of the reports a detective constable states that he tried to phone Gray at home to tell him about the breakthrough in the investigation. His wife said he was out, so he got him on his mobile. He said he had no idea where Gray was, but he sounded elated by the news and shouted, “Got him, the sick bastard.” Gray was also one of the detectives who accompanied Amber Blackwood when they finally found the location of the photo studio, which of course had been cleared out by the time they got there.’

  Tom turned to Becky. ‘If Gray’s response to the news was genuine, and who can say whether it was or not, it would suggest he wasn’t involved. At least, not then. But in the six months between Amber’s statement and Gray’s death maybe he went rogue and became part of it all.’

  ‘What if he was with Alison Morgan when he got the news,’ Becky said. ‘In his excitement he might have told her about the case. She would have had time to warn Jed before they located his studio.’

  The fact was, they didn’t know. All they could do was hypothesise until they had more evidence.

  ‘Well it’s time someone started telling us the truth. When you’ve set up the interview with Cooper, Becky, can you arrange for Alison Morgan to be picked up and brought in? But I don’t want her to be given any warning so she has a chance to clean up her computer.’

  Finally, thought Becky, relieved that Tom had come round to her way of thinking.

  ‘We’ll see Ed Cooper first, then Natalie Gray. Let’s hope by then we have strong enough grounds to arrest Alison Morgan, but organise a search warrant so we can at least go in and seize her computer – and those boxes of Bernie Gray’s,’ Tom said over his shoulder as he strode out of the office.

  78

  Natalie hadn’t expected Bruce to agree to her request for leave calmly, but even she hadn’t been expecting the torrent of abuse she got from him.

  ‘You’re worthless, do you know that? You are so completely useless as a member of this team. We put up with having to cover your workload when your husband died, only because my predecessor was soft. But that was ages ago, and you’re still trying to play the victim card. Well, I’m not having it. I consider this to be gross misconduct, and I’m going to HR now to get them to send you a final warning. You either come into work tomorrow and take no more time off – no more working from home until we’re confident that you’re actually doing anything – or you’re out. Sort out your bloody priorities, Natalie.’

  Bruce’s face had gone red and white blobs of spittle had collected in the corners of his mouth. Natalie looked at him with disgust. Her throat ached with unshed tears, but she wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of seeing her cry. She was going to behave with dignity. And he was right about her priorities.

  ‘It’s eighteen months since my husband was killed, Bruce. Mary very kindly gave me time to come to terms with my loss, and I think you’ll find that since that time I haven’t had a single day off sick, nor have I taken advantage of work-from-home options. That is, until the last couple of weeks. For your information, the case into the death of my husband has been reopened and there is a suspicion that it wasn’t an accident, which is quite a lot for me – and more to the point, my daughter – to deal with. So I think you’ll find that HR will actually be on my side when I report how you have treated me.’

  ‘It’ll be your word against mine, lady,’ he said with a sly grin.

  ‘Then we’ll see what they make of the recording on my phone that I was sensible enough to make, shall we? I wasn’t married to a policeman for nothing, Bruce.’

  Bruce stared at her, for once speechless. He wasn’t to know she was bluffing, and right now she wished with all her heart that she wasn’t.

  ‘You’re correct about priorities, though, and right now my daughter is number one on that list, and she needs me. Far more than you do. Do your worst, and if I’m sacked, so be it.’

  With that she turned and walked out of the door, closing it quietly behind her.

  Natalie walked back to her desk and sat down, shaking. She needed to get a few things together and take anything personal in case Bruce went ahead with his threat to sack her. The others in the office were keeping their heads down, knowing that any overt show of sympathy would result in retribution. They would probably have heard him shouting threats, but were less likely to have heard her quiet response.

  ‘You okay, Nat?’ Gail, a thin girl who sat opposite Natalie, asked.

  Natalie forced herself to breathe. �
��I’m fine. I don’t care what the bastard does, but I’m sorry to leave you guys in the lurch. He’s going to be in a foul mood for the rest of the day.’

  ‘Oh, at least a week, I’d say. I don’t care. He’s a knob.’

  Natalie smiled and put the rest of her things into a carrier bag.

  ‘I may or may not see you in a week or two,’ she said to Gail and anyone else who was listening, ‘but if I don’t come back, maybe we could get together for a drink one evening?’

  There were discreet nods all round, and Natalie left the office feeling good about herself and how she had responded to Bruce.

  But she couldn’t shake the thought that he was the very least of her problems. Now her priority was Scarlett, and she had no idea what the rest of the day was going to bring.

  *

  Scarlett walked to the window and looked down on the street below. There was none of yesterday’s drama and only an occasional passer-by to break up the monotony. She went back to the kitchen, picked up the kettle and put it down again. She leaned her elbows on the breakfast bar and rested her head in her hands. She had no idea how she was going to get through today. It was bad enough that the police were coming, but she was even more nervous about what to say to her mum.

  She wanted to share with her everything that had happened, but her mum would be livid with Lewis and wouldn’t understand that Scarlett wanted to help him to finish what her dad had started.

  Her thinking time ran out as she heard a key in the lock. Scarlett turned back to the kettle and busied herself filling it with water.

  ‘Hi,’ she said, without turning round, trying her best to sound cheerful.

  Her mum walked straight to the sofa. ‘Come and sit down, Scarlett. We need to talk before the police get here. Leave the kettle to boil. I’ll make us a drink in a few minutes.’

  Scarlett had no choice. But she still didn’t know what to say.

  ‘I’m going to talk to you about what’s been going on, sweetheart. Some of it is difficult, and I don’t know how you’re going to deal with it. But the police are coming here and I don’t want them to say anything to you that you might not already know about. And I want you to be honest with me too. Can you do that?’

  Scarlett was trying to hide her face by dropping her head so that her long red hair swung forward. But her mum reached out a finger and tucked it behind her ears.

  ‘Come on, love. We can’t keep hiding things from each other.’

  That was easy for her to say, but there were things that it might be dangerous for her to know.

  ‘I’m going to start. Okay?’

  Scarlett nodded without looking up.

  ‘I want to apologise for the way we left Ed’s house so suddenly. It must have been so upsetting for you, and I know my explanation about his relationship with you wasn’t good enough, but it was a little more than that. I found something on his computer, something I didn’t like. I saw him yesterday, and he has an explanation, but I need to decide whether I believe him or not. There’s a lot that I still don’t understand, and it may be something the police ask us about.’

  Scarlett turned her head. ‘You seemed happy with Ed before all of that happened. Can’t you just trust him?’

  Her mum took a deep breath, as if the truth was going to be painful to admit. ‘It’s not quite that simple. If I’d found the same thing on your dad’s computer I would never have doubted him. But I doubted Ed, and he knows that. He knows I trusted your dad implicitly, but I haven’t been the same with him. He’s bound to resent that, sweetheart, whatever he says.’

  Scarlett shuffled round and looked at her mum properly. ‘It’s different though. You were scared for me. You would never have been scared for me with Dad – I was his little girl. You were just looking out for me. But don’t give up on Ed because of that, Mum, please.’

  ‘Okay, I’ll bear that in mind. And well said, by the way. That was very smart.’ She laughed. ‘And I know what you’re thinking – I’m not a kid, Mum – but if that’s true, then you need to tell me what’s been bothering you. I’ve been so wrapped up in myself and worrying about what to do that I haven’t been paying you enough attention. I know there’s something. What is it, sweetheart?’

  Scarlett was lost. What could she tell her? If she told her anything, she would have to tell her everything, and that was dangerous.

  ‘I’ve just been a bit lonely, and all this stuff about Dad has been bothering me. That’s all, really.’

  Her mum’s arm tightened around Scarlett’s shoulder. ‘Don’t worry, baby. We’re going to be fine. We need to support each other, so I’m not going to work any more until we can move back into our house – or back to Ed’s if that’s what happens. Maybe I was too hard on him, but I need to sort out my feelings about lots of things before I can make a decision. I know he loves us both, so once we’ve spoken to the police you and I can decide together what’s best. Whatever happens, I’ll be here for you.’

  79

  Linda Bale jumped up out of her chair and strode towards the door. Her husband looked up, his eyes red and sore, and for the first time in a long while she saw him for the kind, thoughtful person he was, rather than the man who had failed to control his family in the way she had always believed he should have.

  ‘Where are you going?’ he asked.

  ‘Out,’ she replied, not meeting his gaze. She knew that answer wasn’t good enough and he deserved more. But she didn’t have any more to give. She couldn’t stay locked in that room for another moment.

  Gregory looked back down at his clasped hands as if her response meant nothing to him, and perhaps it didn’t.

  Linda walked through the hall and out through the front door without another word. She knew where she was going; she had run through the route a hundred times in her mind as she imagined Jennifer taking this path just over a week ago.

  She could picture her daughter as she had been on that day in her cut-off dark blue jeans and pink T-shirt. It was the one with white cats on – Jennifer’s favourite – and Linda remembered telling her that it was frivolous and asking if it wasn’t time she developed some taste in clothing?

  Linda had always wanted the best for her family, and she hoped Jen had understood that it was because she loved her so much that she had tried to guide her through the labyrinth of life, providing her with the right values for the future. It wasn’t easy, but it was her job as a mother to show her children the way.

  As she walked along the road and turned off on to the track, memories of Jennifer’s early years came to her: her first baby curls, her first tooth, the feel of her soft skin. Linda used to sing to Jen as she bathed her, and in her head she could hear her daughter’s sweet little voice as she joined in.

  But they don’t stay babies forever, and it wasn’t long before Linda had begun introducing Jennifer to their ways, their rules. It had caused tension in the house, and Linda remembered being shocked when Gregory had told her to ‘go easy on the child’. She didn’t understand what had changed. She and Gregory were together because of their shared beliefs, and they both knew the right way to bring up their daughter. But she could see he was only going through the motions of disciplining Jennifer. The hard work had been left to her.

  Although his support would have helped, she hadn’t minded taking the lead in steering her daughter towards a faith that she had hoped would bring her happiness. It was her duty. And surely Jen had known that it was an act of pure love on her part?

  Linda’s thoughts and memories had blocked out the world around her, and she suddenly realised she had reached her destination. She looked up at the block of flats in front of her. A remnant of yellow crime-scene tape had caught on a small bush and was flapping gently in the breeze.

  She stared at the area where she was sure her daughter’s body had lain. A dark stain that might have been blood marked the bare earth, but it could have been anything, and she would never know.

  She walked towards the door, but even from a dis
tance she could see that it had been boarded up and she felt a tide of anger sweep over her. She should have been allowed to go and see where her daughter had been. How dare they stop me? With difficulty she made her way over debris of all kinds to the back of the building. Once more the doors were boarded up, but she noticed a window where one of the sheets of plywood had been prised loose. Maybe somebody was inside, but she didn’t care.

  An empty crate lay under the window, obviously there to provide a step, and she stood on it and pulled the board to one side. Hitching her dress up around her hips, she lifted one foot onto the window ledge and pulled herself up by gripping the splintering frame on either side.

  She was in.

  The first thing she noticed was the smell. How could Jen have walked through this stinking building without retching? She had been brought up to understand the importance of cleanliness and it must have disgusted her.

  Linda made her way slowly across the floor, out into the hall and towards the staircase ahead. How had Jen been feeling at this point? Had she wanted to run home and tell them everything that had happened and look to them for comfort and support? Linda asked herself if her daughter would have found what she was looking for there, and knew she wouldn’t. She would have been punished, and the whole family would have felt her shame.

  With each step the enormous weight in Linda’s chest seemed to crush her more and more, so that by the time she reached the top of the stairs she could barely breathe. She stepped out onto the roof, hoping that the clean, fresh air would release some of the pressure, but as she walked towards the edge it became greater, her chest tighter.

  Linda Bale approached the edge of the roof and looked down. This was the spot where Jennifer had stood, she was certain. Her faith told her she should abhor her daughter’s sin, but her beautiful child must have felt that life had nothing left to offer her.

  ‘I’m so very, very sorry, my little Jenny,’ she whispered.