‘Hello! Mrs Jenkins! It’s the police!’ No answer came back to them.
They strode through the apartment, which consisted of a hall, living room, kitchenette, two bedrooms and a bathroom. They found there was nobody present in any of the rooms. The double bed had not been made, but things, generally, appeared to be clean and tidy. Linda and Jane had a browse around, casting a female perspective on the condition of the place.
‘Well, I think she’s definitely gone for good,’ announced Linda.
‘How can you tell?’ said Cooper.
‘Linda’s right, governor,’ said Jane. ‘There are no lady’s clothes in the wardrobe or any of the drawers, only men’s things, and there’s nothing in the bathroom except the usual soap and shaving stuff. No make-up.’
‘Jane, before we go any further, we need to get Brendan Withers and his team up here to do a careful forensic examination of the apartment. Will you go outside and ask them to come up, please?’
‘Will do, governor.’
‘We need to take care because this flat is technically an extension of the murder scene. So, let’s not touch anything else, Linda. They’ll need to carry out a search to see if they can find any traces of the victim’s blood.’
A few minutes later, Brendan Withers appeared at the door to the apartment with two of his colleagues. They were fully briefed by Cooper on the parameters that he had determined for the search, and Withers was already conscious that Cooper and the other members of his team intended to carry out a physical search of their own. But that would have to happen later. For now, Cooper and the ladies withdrew and went back to the kitchen, leaving Scenes of Crime to their task.
‘Have you any idea where she might have gone to, Beryl?’ asked Cooper.
‘Not really. She does go up to London quite regularly. I know that. She’s got a Romanian friend up there.’
‘A friend! What kind of friend?’
‘I really don’t know whether they’re male or female, if that’s what you’re thinking about,’ said Beryl, ‘but she goes up there about once a month and she sends money back to her mum in Romania. Whether that’s got something to do with her absence, I don’t know.’
‘How do you know about that, then?’
‘Raymond told me about it.’
‘With the greatest of respect, Mrs Aldis, why would he want to tell you about something as personal as that?’ asked Collins.
‘I suppose you could say we’ve built up a level of trust between us over the years, and, after all, we’re of a similar age. Raymond told me, on more than one occasion, that he was worried that Adina might be having an affair with someone from her own country and that she might leave him.’
‘The so-called “friend”, you mean?’
‘Yes.’
‘Does she have anyone who visits her here at the Hall?’
‘I haven’t seen anybody.’ There was a pregnant pause while Beryl, who was standing at the sink, stared into the middle distance and thought about the question.
‘I appreciate that you haven’t seen anybody yourself, Beryl, but were you aware of anybody coming to visit her? Has anybody made mention of it at all?’
‘No, not at all. Well, not until this morning, anyway. Fancy a cup of tea?’
‘Thank you, Beryl. If you think of anything else, please let us know. I need to use your phone while you put the kettle on.’
Beryl directed Cooper to the study. The others remained in the kitchen awaiting tea and further instructions.
The call was urgent. Cooper finally got through to Brian Pratt, who’d been in the cell area and had to be fetched by the station sergeant.
‘Brian, Mrs Jenkins is not in the flat or anywhere to be found on the estate. Apparently, she went off, quite freely, with some men in a black limousine around 6.15am. We think she’s probably scarpered.’
‘Blimey! That’s not very good, governor,’ said Pratt, stating the obvious, ‘Do you want me to speak to Raymond about it?’
‘Yes. He may be able to shed some light on where she might have gone. If he doesn’t know anything, then we’ll need to get her details circulated to all ports. Get one of the lads to liaise with Linda.’
‘Might sound a bit obvious, governor, but as you haven’t been able to search the flat yet, is there any possibility she might have left a note anywhere?’
‘We didn’t notice one, but I’ll let Scenes of Crime know to keep an eye out. I’ll also get Linda to search the flat for a decent photo to circulate. Will you ask Raymond where she might be able to lay her hands on one?’
Cooper put the phone down and he redialled the operator.
‘Operator. May I help you?’
‘Yes, madam. I am calling on behalf of the Essex Constabulary. My name is Detective Inspector Cooper. Will you please tell me where your exchange is located?’
‘Yes, sir. We are based at the post office in Thorpe-le-Soken.’
‘We are conducting a murder enquiry. Tell me, do you keep records of calls made through the exchange?’
‘Yes, we do, sir.’
‘Good. I’m going to arrange for one of my officers to come and see you shortly. Her name is WPC Jane Stewart. If you would be good enough to inform your supervisor, please. She will be with you within the hour.’
‘Certainly, sir.’
Cooper replaced the receiver and went to rejoin Jane and Linda.
‘Linda, I’ve just spoken to Brian at the police station and he’s going to talk to Raymond Jenkins to try to ascertain where Adina might have gone. Not only that, but he’s also going to ask him where there might be a decent photograph for us to use to circulate. I want you to take the lead on that and ensure that it gets done, please.’
‘Certainly, governor,’ said Linda. She very nearly said “Certainly, darling”, but just managed to stop short. She fancied him like mad, but she was also in awe of his decisiveness and air of command.
‘And, Jane, I want you to go across to the telephone exchange at Thorpe Post Office and see the supervisor. I want to know if there have been any calls put through by them from Beaumont Hall in the last couple of days. You can take the Wolseley.’ Cooper handed her the car keys.
Cooper became aware of DC Peter Smith, a Scenes of Crime officer, who appeared in the entrance to the kitchen. He knocked on the door jamb, ‘Sorry to interrupt you, but have you got a minute, governor?’
‘Yes, Peter.’
‘It’s just to give you an update on our search of the apartment. We have found some traces of blood in the bathroom, around the base of the taps of the wash basin and on the floor.’
‘Good. Was it visible with the naked eye?’
‘No, governor. We used luminescent spray on various surfaces.’
‘What’s that when it’s at home?’
‘We spray a substance called luminol as a presumptive test for blood. If any is detected, it glows.’
‘Thanks for that, Peter. That’s something else I’ve learned today. How long before we’re able to establish the blood group?’
‘We should be able to give you that before the day is out, governor.’
‘Obviously, we have the blood group of the victim. We also need that of Raymond and Adina,’ observed Cooper, ‘Hopefully, Raymond will provide us with a sample while we have him at the station.’
‘Anyway, governor, we just thought that you’d like to know. We’re working on the kitchen next and then we’ll move to the other rooms,’ said Smith. ‘So, you can come in behind us and carry out your own search of the apartment, whenever you want.’
‘Just one thing, Peter. Have you come across a note from Adina Jenkins during the search so far?’
‘No, we haven’t yet, governor, but I’ll speak to the others and we’ll keep a good look out for one.’
‘Thank you, Peter,’ said Cooper, ‘we’l
l speak to you later.’
Smith moved off along the corridor to return to the apartment and Jane Stewart left to make her enquiry at the exchange.
‘Linda, while we are waiting for Brian to come back to us, let’s just finish our tea, and then go outside and find out how they’re getting on with the search of the well.’
The two of them left the kitchen and walked into the yard to be treated to the sight of a uniformed sergeant leaning over the edge of the well. He had both feet off the ground and his position looked precarious indeed. He was shouting into the darkness. It was a comical scene, and as Cooper and his young lady colleague stood observing the spectacle, they had to work hard not to descend into fits of laughter.
There were three other uniformed officers who had adopted a kind of tug-of-war stance, holding a rope that was leading into the mouth of the well. It was under severe stress, and they appeared to be struggling. At one point, they nearly lost their grip completely and the rope shot forward a few feet before they regained control of it.
An urgent voice of alarm came from down below.
‘Oi! Don’t let go for Christ’s sake. It’s full of water down here!’
‘How deep do you reckon it is then, boy?’ shouted the sergeant, who was apparently unconcerned about the man at the end of the rope.
‘I reckon I’m about three feet above the surface of the water, Sarge. If you just keep me in this position, I’ll drop the plumb line in and try to gauge how deep it is.’
There was a pause of a few seconds.
‘If I stand in it, it’ll be up to my waist!’
‘Well, what are you waiting for then?’ shouted the sergeant, ‘You can swim can’t you?’
‘Bloody hell, Sarge. I’m going to get soaked!’
‘We’ve still got you on the rope, so stop bloody moaning and just get on with it, will you?’
There was nothing else for it but for the constable to get under the water and perform a gradual fingertip search along the bottom of the well. This went on with him shouting, ‘Going in!’ every time he submerged himself. After he had dipped himself for a fifth and final time, he returned to the surface and shouted triumphantly, ‘Got it!’
‘Got what?’ shouted the sergeant.
‘The cross!’
The tug-of-war team slowly and carefully pulled him back to the top. PC Wally Blackmore, whose vest and uniform trousers were completely saturated and covered in mud, emerged from the mouth of the well, triumphantly carrying his prize.
Cooper strode across to him, saying ‘Well done, boy!’ He patted the constable on the back.
‘Is this what you wanted, sir?’ said Wally holding up the crucifix for Cooper’s inspection.
‘That’s it precisely. You’ve just found a crucial piece of evidence in the solving of a murder. Well done, boy,’ said Cooper, who was grinning broadly. He took the crucifix from the young officer, placed it into an evidence bag and got him to sign the exhibit label. ‘I shall be recommending you to Mr Stockwell for a commendation, young Wally.’ Cooper reached into his trouser pocket and took out a half-crown piece. He handed it to the officer. ‘Here, get yourself cleaned up back at the nick, and buy yourself a cup of tea and a sandwich.’
The young officer accepted the money gratefully. ‘Thanks very much, governor.’
‘Well, Jenkins was right about that, wasn’t he?’
‘Yes, Linda. He knew where it was all right, but I think we do need to be careful. He’s not totally alibied himself, and, perhaps I’m being over cautious, but his wife has suddenly gone missing,’ said Cooper.
‘Yes, but the kitchen porter James was convinced that she went off willingly with the men in the car.’
‘I agree, Linda. But why wouldn’t they stop for Savage?’
‘I know. Strange behaviour. If the situation were innocent.’
‘Not only that, we’ve found blood in his apartment. We need to establish the blood group and ascertain whether it might have come from the victim. This case is not cut and dried by any means.’
Cooper became aware of Savage, who was lurking with a young constable by the kitchen door. He sent Linda across to speak to them and she returned a few minutes later.
‘I’m going to take a witness statement from Mr Savage, governor. As you know, he took down the registration number.’
‘Brilliant. Now we’ve confirmed it, we need to get it circulated and checked for the details of the owner. I’d like to know who we’re dealing with.’
*
It was a clear, sunny morning and the Buick, having made its way through the Essex countryside, was now passing through North London. As it was a Sunday, there had been very little traffic on the roads; nonetheless, the driver had driven sensibly within speed limits so as not to draw the attention of any passing police patrol. The driver and bodyguard were separated from the rear compartment by a glass partition, so Adina felt that she could speak freely.
‘I really want to thank you, Chaim. You are my saviour. It has been a very stressful time for me. I don’t know what I would have done without you.’
‘You don’t have to keep thanking me, Adina. You have done a great service. If only the people knew, they would always be very grateful to you.’
‘I would be happier if, for the moment, you said nothing to anybody else about it until I am completely safe.’
‘Yes, of course, Adina.’
‘What will happen now?’
‘Arrangements will be made for your mother and sister to be taken to Vienna, where they will meet us in a few days when we fly out. Then we will all travel on to Israel together.’
‘We?’
‘I will travel with you. We will travel as husband and wife, and you will have an Israeli passport.’
‘You mean I have to marry you?’
‘No, that won’t be necessary,’ he said laughingly. ‘It’s just a cover to help you get safely through passport control. It should make our passage much easier. That’s all.’
‘Where will I be until we make our journey?’
‘You will stay within the Diplomatic Mission complex. It is safe there and the British authorities cannot touch you. It is like a little piece of Israel.’
‘And when we get to Israel?’
‘We will find you and your family a house and a job within the Government Service.’
‘And you?’
‘I expect that I will be reassigned somewhere. I might even go to America, I don’t really know. I go where they send me.’
Adina was content and not a little relieved. She sat back in the luxurious leather seating of the Buick and looked across at Chaim. He was dark and very handsome. She wondered what the future held for them both and whether they might even be together.
As they passed through the streets of Islington and on up the Holloway Road, Adina noticed a signpost indicating the way to HM Prison Holloway. Her stomach became knotted with fear and she was suddenly gripped by nausea. She imagined the noose. It reminded her that her fate was not yet assured.
*
‘We can only have missed her by a couple of hours, Raymond,’ said Cooper.
‘If only I’d made the effort to check on her before I left with you this morning. We might have stood a better chance of finding her.’
Cooper was in no mood to be charitable.
‘Yes, Raymond, but if we had, you probably wouldn’t have told us the truth about her committing the murder. Would you?’
‘Probably not.’
Jenkins was sitting at one end of the wooden bed in his cell, with his shoulders hunched over. He looked grief stricken, and, due to him suffering from claustrophobia, he’d had a dreadful time in the cells.
‘She didn’t say anything about going anywhere yesterday. But we had a row a couple of days ago and she wasn’t happy. She’s been talking recen
tly about going back to Romania to visit her mother.’
‘What was the row about?’
‘I was annoyed because she was going through my writing bureau and interfering with my papers. The other day we were each given a letter by Mr Green, his lordship’s solicitor, which contained a cheque for three hundred pounds. She opened it. When I argued with her about going through my private papers, she told me to keep my cheque and she’d pay hers into her own account.’
‘And, did she pay it into her account?’
‘I don’t know, but I don’t think she’d have had much chance. It was only given to her in the last few days.’
‘Where does she have her bank account?’
‘Well, she doesn’t know that I know this, but I once saw a letter in her handbag. Its Martin’s Bank in Shoreditch.’
So, you are quite content to go through her handbag, thought Cooper, but you don’t like her going through your papers. Cooper wasn’t going to press the point with him. He had to try to keep him on side.
‘Which is where you drop her in London to see her friend?’
‘Yes, that’s right.’
‘Do you think that she might have gone to see this “friend” of hers?’
‘Maybe. I can’t imagine that she’s gone anywhere else. She doesn’t really know anybody else outside of Beaumont and she hasn’t got much money. Well not until her cheque clears at the bank anyway.’
‘What do you know about this friend?’
‘I think he’s Romanian, and Jewish, because he was always arranging to get money sent across to her mother through the synagogue.’
‘This is a man that she meets in Shoreditch, is it?’
‘Yes.’
‘Didn’t you mind her meeting a bloke?’
‘I wasn’t too happy about it, to be honest, but I had to trust her. I couldn’t lock the girl up twenty-four hours a day, could I?’
‘No, I suppose not. Do you know where they used to meet?’
‘No, not really. It was normally just in a café somewhere, but I don’t know which one. After they’d had their meeting, she would go along to Liverpool Street, get the train back to Colchester and then get the bus to Beaumont.’
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