Текст книги "Jessica Daniel: Locked In / Vigilante / The Woman in Black"

Автор книги: Kerry Wilkinson

сообщить о нарушении

Текущая страница: 16 (всего у книги 60 страниц)

30

Once they knew the Keegans were the family they were looking for, things moved quickly. Whether he was called Scott Harris or Scott Keegan, the son wasn’t an instant priority. No decision had been made about reopening the Nigel Collins case but, given everything they knew, his parents could be in danger and getting them to safety was the first thing that had to be done. Jessica spoke to the officer at the scene to tell him to try the front door on the off-chance it was open and then to check around the back and look through the windows to see if anything was visible.

They discovered mobile phone numbers for both Mary Keegan – formerly Harris – and Paul Keegan. As she was being driven in a marked car to the house, Jessica tried both numbers. Mary’s rang out with no answer but Paul Keegan answered to her silent relief.

It was now mid-afternoon and Mr Keegan told her he was at work in the council offices. Jessica didn’t explain much but asked if he could return home to meet them. His instant question was: ‘Is everyone all right?’

Jessica had no idea how to answer and didn’t want to lie by giving a definitive ‘yes’, so simply said, ‘We hope so.’ It was a horrible way to reply and Jessica knew the poor guy would be frantic on his way home but there wasn’t much else she could say. At best she would apologise in person if everyone was safe and well.

At worst . . .

The Keegans’ house was once again in the same Gorton area as those of the first three victims. All four properties were within a mile’s radius. The journey wasn’t too far from the station but Jessica kept trying Mary Keegan’s phone over and over. Every time it rang out. The car arrived and parked up on the road outside the Keegans’ house behind the first police car. The officer who had been sent earlier was waiting for them.

‘Any luck?’ Jessica asked, wondering if he had been able to get in or at the very least see something.

‘No. It’s all locked up with the curtains pulled. I noticed a few neighbours taking an interest but nothing.’ Jessica went to walk past him but his next throwaway line sent a chill down her spine. ‘I’ve just been hearing a phone ring inside non-stop for the last ten minutes or so.’

‘Shit.’

A third marked car pulled in behind them which would be bringing Cole and more uniformed officers. Jessica eyed the property. It was much the same as Yvonne Christensen’s, a standard semi-detached house with strong imposing double-glazed doors and windows. The front garden was immaculate, surrounded by a small fountain and pond with lush trimmed grass. The Keegans were clearly very house-proud. Even the surrounding hedges were cut neatly, in stark contrast to some of the other properties on the street. Jessica walked down the path to the house and opened the letterbox. There were thick black bristles on the inside obstructing any view she might have. She used her fingers to try to push them aside but could see nothing. She next went to the bay window to the right of the front door and used her hands to shield her eyes from the glare to peer through. A thick net curtain meant she could see nothing of note.

Within a moment of calling Mary Keegan’s phone again, Jessica could hear a muffled ringtone coming from the inside of the house. She leant with her forehead on the cool glass of the window and hung up.

She knew what they were going to find inside.

Jessica heard a vehicle screeching from somewhere nearby and moments later a large silver car pulled up in front of all three police cars. She saw a man quickly get out from the driver’s side and run along the pathway towards her. ‘Mr Keegan?’ she said.

‘Yes. What’s wrong?’

Jessica ignored the immediate question. ‘Do you have your house keys with you?’

The man was wearing black suit trousers and a white shirt with a blue criss-cross pattern. He was somewhere in his fifties and a few inches taller than Jessica, unshaven with carefully combed dark hair that was greying around his ears. He put his right hand in his trouser pocket and pulled out a key ring. ‘Here. What’s going on?’

‘Do you mind if I borrow them for a moment?’

The man handed them to her and repeated, ‘What’s happening?’

Jessica said nothing but nodded to Cole and the waiting officers at the end of the path. Cole stood next to Mr Keegan as Jessica pulled a pair of thin blue rubber gloves out of her pocket. She put the key in the front door’s lock and turned it.

‘Mrs Keegan?’ she called as she entered with two uniformed officers following behind. There was no answer.

The door opened into what looked like a living room with a set of stairs immediately on her left. The room was spotlessly tidy with a neat pile of mail on top of a small table immediately on her right. At the other end of the room was a door that Jessica motioned the two officers towards as she went upstairs.

The stairs were made of wood, each one creaking noisily as she stepped on it. It was one flight to the top, which opened onto a hallway with three doors to choose from, two on her right and one straight ahead. She opened the door in front of her that led into a bathroom. As with the rest of the house, everything was immaculate, the white bath and shower cabinet gleaming as sunlight came through a small window. There was nothing else to see.

The next door opened into a bedroom. Posters of footballers and girls in bikinis were on the walls but the bunk beds directly across from the door were made in pristine fashion, the corners tucked and the blue duvets perfectly central. There were a few action figures on cabinets and dressers around the room but otherwise it was as tidy as the other rooms. Jessica wondered if this was Scott’s room. Was this where he returned to after torturing Nigel Collins? She pulled the door shut, the bottom of the wood rubbing on the carpet as she heard one of the policemen’s voices from downstairs. ‘Clear here.’

One more door and she would be able to say the same. Jessica rested her hand on the final handle, held her breath and closed her eyes. She pulled it down and pushed the door open, forcing it against the bristle of the carpet. She breathed out and opened her eyes. ‘No . . .’

On the bed was a woman’s body face-down. Aside from the room’s colours the scene was almost identical to what Jessica had witnessed at Claire Hogan’s flat. Instead of a sprawl of bleach-blonde hair discoloured by dark blood spread across the bed sheets, Jessica could see long dark brown hair splayed out in a similar way. The yellow curtains were drawn and the room dim but Jessica could see the matching double-bed linen was stained by blood.

Jessica didn’t need to see any more; four dead bodies were enough. She turned around and pulled the gloves off her hands, walking down the stairs back to the front door. The other two officers were standing in the living room, both looking at her.

‘Don’t go up,’ she said, before adding, ‘Someone call the Scene of Crime team.’

Jessica took it upon herself to tell Paul Keegan there was a dead body upstairs on their bed, likely his wife. She spoke slowly and gently but the man could only stare at her with his mouth open.

In any other circumstance his response ‘Are you sure?’ would have been ridiculous. In this one it was heartbreaking. Jessica could tell from the tone of his voice that he loved his wife enormously. Some people would have wanted to run past her into the house, race up the stairs and see for themselves. Paul Keegan didn’t move from the spot on his front lawn. Jessica saw tears in his eyes and reached out to put an arm on his shoulder, before fully embracing him and letting the man cry on her shoulder.

After a few moments, he pulled away and tried to straighten his shirt. He wiped his eyes but the tears hadn’t really stopped. ‘Was it him?’ he asked.

‘Who?’

‘Houdini.’

Back at the station things had been moving quickly. Jessica hadn’t given Paul Keegan a yes or a no answer. Although it seemed likely, they weren’t absolutely certain and they now knew Houdini was most likely Nigel Collins.

Paul Keegan hadn’t wanted to go into the house but had agreed to an identification at the scene. It seemed harsh but for completeness’ sake it was better being done there, rather than finding out a few hours later his wife was alive and well and some other dead body had been dumped in his house. He had clearly been upset at the brief look but had willingly come with them to the station for interview. Grief did odd things to people. Some reacted like Sandra Prince and were unable to communicate. For others, like Paul Keegan, it seemed to have the opposite effect, driving them to remember things they might not normally and to think with a level-headedness they might not usually have.

Jessica had a dilemma in whether to reveal his stepson Scott could in fact be indirectly responsible for what had happened. It didn’t seem fair to add more grief quite so quickly. She had established that Scott was now at university in Liverpool, about to finish his first year studying forensic science.

‘His mum was so proud of him for turning things around,’ Paul Keegan said. ‘He used to be a bit of a tearaway before we got together. I think he had issues with his dad.’

Jessica thought he didn’t know the half of it, while the irony of Scott learning about how to deconstruct a body given what Shaun Hogan said he had done wasn’t lost on her either. Another constable took notes as Paul Keegan spoke but Jessica said nothing about Scott. There was an older stepson too, Steven, who was just about to take his final accounting exam at Keele University. They were both due to return home in the next fortnight for the summer break.

Mary’s husband spoke clearly and simply, explaining that his wife was a nurse and had been working late shifts that week, starting at ten at night and finishing at six in the morning. She would arrive home as he was waking up to get ready to go to his own job with the council for eight. They usually shared a cup of tea together, swapping notes on the previous twenty-four hours before he went off to work and she went to bed.

‘I always hate it when she’s on nights,’ he said. ‘It doesn’t feel right sleeping alone.’

The present tense he spoke in was hard to hear. What he had told them explained why the body had been found upstairs rather than in the living room or anywhere else. It also indicated Nigel Collins must have been watching the house to have known the woman would be vulnerable during the day.

Thinking about it from the killer’s point of view, Jessica could now see the pattern. Yvonne Christensen had been the easiest. She lived alone and slept at night like most people. If you could get into the house without alerting her, she would be fast asleep and provide no threat. Martin Prince was next in line because he was always on his own during the day but perhaps seen as more of a threat because he was a man? Claire Hogan would have been slightly harder to plan given that she lived on a main road and had a steady stream of visitors. And then there was Mary Keegan, who was the hardest. Had Nigel been watching and waiting long enough for her shift patterns to switch from earlies, to daytimes then back to nights again? If she was working similar hours to her husband, finding an opportunity to get either of them alone would have been a challenge. Nigel also didn’t seem too bothered whether he was targeting the father or mother, seemingly going for whoever was easier. He certainly must have kept an eye on the comings and goings over the past few weeks or months.

Jessica hadn’t done the checking herself but it had been established the doors and windows had been locked as with the previous three victims. The police officers had found Mary Keegan’s keys with her bag in the kitchen but the reasons were less clear.

Alibis would be checked for Paul, Scott and Steven Keegan – the only others with direct access to the house. Paul had given them the details of Scott and Steven’s real father too, Mary’s former husband, but said he was now remarried and living in Scotland. Everything would be looked at but Jessica knew it would be a formality. The man they needed to find was Nigel Collins. Tying him to the four murders could prove more of a problem, given the lack of obvious evidence at the scenes but Jessica figured they would cross that bridge when they got to it.

After she had asked all of her questions and heard everything that was likely to be useful, Jessica added, ‘Is there anything you would like to tell us?’

In interviews where the person had cooperated, it was always the last question you asked. In training, they had all been told a story of how a murder in the north east had been solved by a throwaway comment at the end of an interview. It was probably apocryphal, as so many of those training stories were, but the point had always resonated with Jessica.

Paul Keegan looked at her blankly and shook his head. ‘How do you mean?’

‘Sometimes when we interview victims and relatives, there are things they might remember that seem normal at the time but, in retrospect, could throw new light on something. People they’ve noticed and so on. Silent phone calls, things like that.’

‘We’ve had a few problems with kids over the last few months on the estate, riding their bikes and being loud late at night and so on. You phone the police but nothing really gets done.’

It was a story Jessica heard all too regularly. On the one hand she knew how much of a blight it could be on people’s lives but she was also aware the police couldn’t be everywhere. With a lack of funding and targets that needed to be hit, things like this were often treated as a low priority. Again, there was no irony lost on Jessica, considering how Mr Keegan’s stepson had seemingly behaved when he was younger.

‘I can only apologise for that, Mr Keegan,’ Jessica said. ‘Is there anything else?’

‘Not really, no.’ Jessica thanked him for his time then broke the news that they would have to arrest and speak to Scott. She reassured him his stepson was not suspected of any direct involvement to his mother’s death but couldn’t add any more than that. They were arranging for Scott and Steven to come back to the area. Steven would be interviewed informally at a later date in regards to the killing of his mother although he wasn’t a suspect. With the story breaking in the media tomorrow that their chief suspect was Nigel Collins, having Scott in custody would be a necessity. Even if the original assault case from almost six years ago wasn’t reopened, they couldn’t risk him running. He would obviously put two and two together but they would need to speak to him regardless – if only to formally rule him out of the inquiry into his mother’s death.

Jessica had already arranged for Jonathan Prince and James Christensen to be cautioned in relation to the unsolved assault all those years ago too. Things really were getting complicated, with Nigel Collins being both a victim and suspect in two different crimes.

Back in the main part of the station, Jessica could see the search for Nigel Collins was moving, albeit slowly. The original list of forty-seven names had been brought down to just three who were the right age. Two lived in the London area, while one was in a small town not too far from Nottingham. An officer was going to visit the Nigel Collins who lived in the town but dealing with the Met Police in London was always trickier. Their structure was even more confusing than Greater Manchester’s and there were always enough jobsworths to tell you that you were speaking to the wrong department. Anyone would think it was a different country they were trying to deal with. Eventually Aylesbury had become involved and two sets of two constables were now on their way to talk to the other two Nigel Collinses.

Jessica knew it was only a matter of time until they were ruled out. Whoever their killer was, it was someone who had been in the area very recently. Mary Keegan had been murdered that day but must have been watched for at least a few weeks previous. Their Nigel Collins wasn’t someone who drove up from Nottingham or London, walked through a wall and then travelled home again.

Door-to-door inquiries were being made in the hope anyone on the street had seen someone acting suspiciously. An accurate e-fit could be their only hope. The police did have a photograph on file from the original case but it was only the one of the poor kid’s battered face that had been on every news broadcast and in every newspaper at the time. It was no use for putting into a media campaign to find their prime suspect as you couldn’t tell if the victim was male or female, let alone make out any features.

The children’s home Nigel Collins had lived in didn’t exist any longer, having been bulldozed a few years ago. Cole had already set some officers on the task of tracking down some of the staff who would have been there at the same time as Nigel. Even if they got hold of the right people, it seemed unlikely they would stumble across a picture from his childhood they could use. At best it would be six years old but Jessica doubted they would get anything anyway.

That left them with a name of someone who seemingly didn’t exist, whose appearance they had no idea of and no idea how he got in and out of locked houses.

Nigel Collins really had set them quite a puzzle.

31

The next day was something Jessica had not been looking forward to. Every news bulletin on TV and radio had led off with the story that Nigel Collins was the ‘Houdini Strangler’. The only photograph the police had to give out was that of Nigel’s bruised face from almost six years previously, so it had been that staring out from the front of every newspaper, national and local, as well as the morning’s broadcasts.

Jessica had been up at six in the morning to watch the coverage on a loop. She had found that watching things over and over could sometimes help clarify the facts in your mind. She first watched the BBC news, then changed channels and watched it on ITV, before returning to the BBC for the local take on it all. She also spent the whole time surfing news websites on her phone. In terms of information released, none of the stations had that much to go on. Aylesbury had hosted a press conference the night before. The first three murder victims’ names had been previously released but Mary Keegan had been added to that list. The media were told Nigel Collins was the chief suspect but the link to the victims’ children had not been revealed.

It would surely only be a matter of time before that got out and Jessica was only half-surprised she hadn’t read the story on the Herald’s website that morning with Garry Ashford’s byline. It was the type of story where he seemed to steal a march on everyone. Aylesbury had been keen to stress that the public were not at risk and the police didn’t believe there was any need for further alarm. It was a fine line as they were pretty sure Nigel Collins had completed his killing spree but couldn’t be sure. It seemed unlikely he would go back for the other parents but perhaps the people who actually tortured him could be targeted.

If it wasn’t leaked, that information almost certainly would be revealed at some point in the next forty-eight hours. It seemed inconceivable the original case into the assault on Nigel Collins would not be reopened.

Randall had stayed over the night before and he and Caroline had got up an hour or so after Jessica and the three of them had watched the news together. ‘Oh God, Jess. This is awful,’ Caroline said as she cuddled into her boyfriend on the sofa.

Jessica had never really told her the full extent of the case and, though it had been in the media consistently through the past few weeks, this coverage seemed so much more real given the graphic detail everything was now being laid out in. ‘It’s okay,’ Jessica said, giving her friend a half-smile.

‘It’s sick is what it is,’ Randall said, gripping Caroline tighter and kissing the top of her head.

Jessica had to leave them to it. She had a feeling it was going to be a long day, something which was confirmed as she pulled her car onto the road the station was on. She could see a full media scrum outside the gates. She often took the turn into the station in third gear and one of the other officers once claimed he’d seen her car take it on two wheels. On this occasion, she had to stop and crawl through the mass of people. There were television cameras and flashes going off from photographers’ cameras. She drove slowly, being careful not to hit anyone, and saw Garry Ashford off to one side as well. In the fleeting glimpse she got, he seemed slightly overwhelmed with the mass of people pushing and shoving.

Scott Keegan had been kept in the cells under the station overnight after returning from Liverpool late the previous evening. They could hold him for up to twenty-four hours without charge but the intention had only been to keep him in until the morning. By then the news about Nigel Collins would be widely known and they could speak to him.

Jessica parked and entered through the station’s main entrance. In the reception area, there was a television high on the wall above a rank of chairs for people who had to wait there. A few years previously, someone had managed to steal an old TV from a similar spot, despite being in the reception of a police station. There had been much mickey-taking at the time. The replacement was usually turned off but had a rolling news channel switched on with the sound turned up as Jessica walked in. She glanced sideways at it and could see an outside shot of the door she had just walked in.

‘They didn’t get your good side, did they?’ laughed the desk sergeant, who was pointing at the screen. Jessica ignored him, breezing towards the stairs to check in with Aylesbury. Cole was also present, of course, and the morning update was as she would have expected. All three Nigel Collinses from the previous day had been ruled out, which left them with no one.

Initial forensic results were back, which meant someone would have been working late into the night. Mary Keegan had been strangled in the exact way as the previous victims but it was suspected, as with Yvonne Christensen, that she had been asleep. There was next to no evidence of a struggle. As Jessica had thought, all of the blood in the bedroom belonged to the victim, with nothing in the way of DNA from anyone other than the husband. In some ways that kind of evidence was irrelevant as they knew who they were after. But, if and when they found Nigel Collins, it would have been useful in tying him to the scenes for a trial.

The DCI did tell them that word had come down that the Nigel Collins assault case was going to be reopened. Given the way the two cases would be linked together, it was the only thing that could realistically happen. A separate set of officers would return to Leeds Prison to speak to Shaun Hogan again. When Jessica and Cole had spoken to him the previous day, he wasn’t under caution as he wasn’t considered a witness in the murder of Claire Hogan; he was behind bars after all. They had gone to talk to him to see if there was any background he could give them to help discover who killed his mother. The hope was that he would repeat what he had told them on tape and under caution. Having seen his demeanour the previous day, Jessica felt that he would.

After the meeting with her superiors, it was then the main team briefing. In itself, it threw up very little but there was at least a buzz considering everything that had happened in the past day. Rowlands had been sent back to visit Wayne Lapham. Although he wasn’t a suspect, they still didn’t know if he was linked to Nigel Collins. Given his record it could quite conceivably be true that he had happened to burgle from two of the four murder victims but how that could relate back to their prime suspect was just another mystery in a long list.

Following that, Jessica and Cole went to the interview room to talk to Scott Keegan. Jessica almost felt sorry for him when he was brought up. He was more or less as she would have pictured him given Shaun Hogan’s story. He was short with sandy-coloured short hair but looked strong across his shoulders. That was undermined by his pale white skin and the bags under his eyes; he didn’t seem as if he had slept much. He had been told in the cells he was entitled to legal advice. He hadn’t wanted to speak to his father on the phone and, as he didn’t have much money of his own, had opted for the duty solicitor. Jessica thought he already looked defeated as he was led in. There was no swagger and none of the cockiness someone like Wayne Lapham had.

Cole started the tape and went through the usual spiel but Jessica had conducted enough interviews to know the young man sitting in front of her was going to confess to everything. When he had finished speaking, it was Jessica’s turn. ‘Do you know why you’re here, Scott?’

He didn’t look up. ‘Yes.’

‘I want to ask you about Nigel Collins.’

No answer.

‘Scott?’

He still didn’t respond.

‘Scott, you know that name, don’t you?’

From nowhere, Scott exploded into tears. Jessica couldn’t make out much in the way of words from him, only sobs. No one said anything, allowing his cries to echo. ‘Are you okay, Scott?’ Jessica asked.

It seemed as if the solicitor was about to step in but, as he reached forwards, Scott said: ‘It’s why she’s dead, isn’t it?’ His words were still half-drowned by tears but could be clearly made out. Jessica saw no reason to hide the truth; he would know soon enough anyway.

‘We think so, yes. We think Nigel Collins murdered your mother yesterday.’

The sobs got louder again but Scott was clearly trying to talk through them. ‘It’s all my fault. Oh God, it’s all my fault. I’m so sorry.’

Jessica looked at Cole, who gave a slight nod and they waited for Scott to quieten down again. ‘Are you okay, Scott?’ Jessica asked when he had.

‘Yes.’

‘Okay. I need you to tell me what happened with you and Nigel.’

Scott spilled everything, confirming pretty much everything Shaun Hogan had told them the previous day. He even took responsibility, saying he made up a story about seeing Nigel look at his girlfriend and admitting he had carried out most of the attack, pressuring his friends to join in. He spoke with very little interruption for over twenty minutes, Jessica just asking him to clarify a few points.

Maybe it wasn’t crucial to either of the investigations but at the end she felt she had to ask the question, if only for her own benefit. ‘Why did you do it, Scott?’

The fact he didn’t even need to think about it was chilling in itself, though the way he said it did at least sound remorseful. ‘It was something to do. Everyone knew he was just that weird guy who hung around and I thought it would be a laugh.’

All of this because some kid wanted something to do, thought Jessica.

‘Why him?’ she asked.

‘I don’t know. He was just there. Everyone knew he was a bit weird. There wasn’t a reason.’

‘Is there anything else?’

‘No . . . just . . . I don’t know why it happened. I was different then, angrier. Dad had left and . . . I just don’t know. I’m so sorry.’ He swallowed another sob before continuing. ‘I’ve thought about it every night since but, at the time, I couldn’t stop myself. I was hoping everything was over, going to uni and all . . .’

Jessica almost hated herself for the twinge of sorrow she felt for him. He had done something horrendous and unforgivable years previously and made it worse by coercing his friends into it too and covering everything up. But she could tell from the way he spoke that he genuinely had agonised over it in the years since. Scott would only have been thirteen at the time and now, years on, all these lives had been ripped apart.

Cole stepped in and formally charged Scott Keegan with attempted murder. The feeling was the charges would be revised down to grievous bodily harm before it got to court as there was no Nigel Collins to give evidence. They still had all the medical details on file from years before, plus the confession. It would be up to the CPS to decide. There would be a media release later to explain the link and Scott would be up in front of magistrates in the morning. Jonathan Prince and James Christensen had been arrested within the hour and would most likely join him whether they confessed or not; the evidence they had from Scott would be enough to charge them. Shaun Hogan might or might not appear via video link, Jessica didn’t know. Given the fact they would all be feeling responsible for the murder of one of their parents, Jessica fully expected Jonathan and James to confess too.

What a mess.

Cole had gone to pass on the news to Aylesbury that they had a confession, while Jessica headed off to the main floor to see if any progress had been made on finding Nigel Collins. She couldn’t help but feel they had traded in not knowing who the killer was to simply having no idea where to find him. There had been no luck with tracking down extra photos. Two members of staff from the children’s home had been found but they had no mementoes and no idea who else would have anything. His previous schools had been visited and, though year photos he should have been in had been discovered, he wasn’t in any of them. Jessica didn’t think it was a surprise given the way he had been ostracised.

She did laugh when someone told her one of the officers had been in contact with the Herald to check their archives relating to the car crash that killed Nigel’s parents, just in case there was a photo of him as an eleven-year-old. There wasn’t of course but it was worth a try. She thought going to the paper would have simply given Garry Ashford another tip to follow up. From the Herald’s website that morning, she could see he had done well. Not only was there all the standard information everyone else had been given but he had somehow managed to get himself a chat with Kim Hogan. Jessica wondered how Garry had talked the girl around. It certainly seemed as if he’d had more success talking to her than she had.