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

Автор книги: Kerry Wilkinson

сообщить о нарушении

Текущая страница: 39 (всего у книги 60 страниц)

The man shrugged. ‘I don’t think it really matters any more. Whoever it was would probably be ashamed of us.’

‘Why did you kill them, Dennis?’

The man shrugged again. Jessica had been annoyed at herself for beginning to feel a little sympathy but the casual way he moved his shoulders showed he had no real regret. ‘I just got sick of it. The same faces doing the same things over and over and no one does anything about it.’

‘You must have known you’d get caught?’

‘Maybe but I planned carefully and watched everyone so I knew their routines. I knew I wasn’t on any databases or anything because I’d never been arrested. Even if I left some traces at the scene I didn’t see any way you could ever link it back to me.’

Jessica could see he was right. If it wasn’t for the link to McKenna, they would have just had some random DNA without knowing whose it was. ‘What about the police officer?’

‘Your friend?’

‘Yes, my friend.’

‘I didn’t hear her. She had nothing on her feet and was on me before I could think. I didn’t mean to but she was really strong. You were the last people I would have targeted.’

Jessica wasn’t going to push her luck by mentioning the fact he’d gone after Farraday a few nights previously. She asked Dennis if he could sit back at the table and give them the full details they would need. Facially he barely reacted but he did what she asked, resigned to whatever was going to happen to him.

When he had finished speaking, he was taken back to the cells as Jessica passed the details of the man’s sister to his solicitor. She didn’t know if there would be any cooperation between the prisons to allow people to meet and, given everything that had happened, didn’t really care.

37

Jessica walked along the gravel path and listened. The few birds that hadn’t yet flown south were chirping noisily but, aside from that, she couldn’t hear anything other than the scrunching of her own footsteps. She realised the quiet was almost more deafening than the noise she was so used to. Living in a city, even on the outskirts, you grew accustomed to the low hum of traffic and people and it became the norm. She didn’t know if the tranquillity was better or worse. In some ways the constant clamour she was so familiar with was reassuring.

She followed the trail around the church and then moved onto the grass, walking carefully in between the gravestones to find the one she was looking for. There had been dew earlier in the morning and the ground felt soft underfoot. Jessica looked from side to side, taking in the names and wondering how everyone came to be there. Most of the dates on the stones would have meant it was simply old age but, every now and then, there were names of people who died young. She found it humbling, seeing the details of people born after her but who were already buried beneath her feet.

The graveyard was bigger than she remembered but Jessica eventually saw the stone she was looking for. The whole area was a mix of old weathered monuments and new chiselled markers. Carrie Jones’s stood out as the wisps of morning sunlight reflected off its surface. Jessica crossed towards it and placed the flowers she had been carrying next to the fresh ones already there. She stood looking down at the engravings, with Carrie’s name, date of birth and death, and a simple message.

‘Always in our hearts.’

Jessica sat between the plot and the one adjacent to it, leaning gently on the gravestone. For a while she listened to the breeze and the birds and then she smiled. ‘I can see why you left this place,’ she said with a small giggle. ‘Bit quiet, ain’t it?’

The ground was wet underneath her and she could feel the dampness seeping through her jeans but it was already too late to do much about it. ‘Your mum’s a character, I can see where you got the laugh from now. I don’t know how you stayed so thin though, all she wanted to do last night was feed me. She’s doing all right, looking after your dad and shouting at the rugby players on the TV. I’m not sure if she shouts louder when they’re winning or losing.’

She moved her head to the side so it was resting on the stone. ‘Everyone keeps telling me I did a good job for figuring things out and getting Dennis to talk but no one wants to tell me the truth. Maybe if I’d been a better mate we would have been able to talk about your bloke and things would have happened differently? I’ve not told anyone about things but Farraday – your John – quit last week. He called me into his office to tell me first and then announced it officially to everyone else. I think he felt guilty.’

Jessica was wearing a thick jacket but felt a chill go through her as the breeze picked up. ‘I think I lost it for a while somewhere along the line. I was seeing things that weren’t there and acting without thinking things through. I look at it now and it doesn’t even seem like me, it’s as if I was watching someone else doing those things.’

She tried to suppress a shiver as she continued talking gently to the stone. ‘I spoke to Denise Millar a few days ago. She’s keeping everything together for Jamie and says he’s got a job now. I think catching the person that killed her other son has helped her come to terms with it all.’

She stood and wiped as much of the dampness from her trousers as she could, peering back at the stone. ‘I’m just here to say goodbye and thanks for being a mate when I needed one.’

Jessica turned and walked briskly away back to the cemetery’s entrance. There was a wide wooden gate which she unclasped and moved through before shunting it back into position. She leant back onto it and took out her phone, skimming through the first couple of contacts. She highlighted Adam Compton’s name and typed out a simple text message.

‘I’m sorry. J’

She pressed the button to send and walked quickly out towards the waiting taxi on the main road before getting into the back seat. ‘You all right, love?’ the driver asked.

‘Yeah, can you take me to the train station now?’

The driver pulled away as Jessica leant back into the seat and closed her eyes. She felt her mind beginning to drift but was snapped back to the present as her phone beeped to say she had a new message.

The Woman in Black Contents

1

2

3

4

5

6

7

8

9

10

11

12

13

14

15

16

17

18

19

20

21

22

23

24

25

26

27

28

29

30

31

32

33

34

35

36

1

Detective Sergeant Jessica Daniel swept the strand of long dark blonde hair away from her face and looked down at the object in front of her before saying the only thing that came to mind. ‘Well, it’s definitely a hand.’

The man standing next to her nodded in agreement. ‘Blimey, nothing gets past you, does it?’

Jessica laughed. ‘Oi. It’s just you never know what you’re going to get, do you? When I was in uniform I got sent out because there were reports of a dead animal blocking a road and it was only someone’s coat. For all we knew, this “severed hand” could have been part of a kid’s doll.’

Detective Inspector Jason Reynolds looked at the scene in front of them, nodding. ‘You’re right but this ain’t a kid’s toy.’

The appendage was greying in colour and blended with the patch of concrete it had been left on. Jessica thought it looked fairly hardened, as if the fingers would be stiff and awkward to move, even though the digits were splayed and it was flat to the ground. Given the clean-looking cut where it would have once been connected to someone’s wrist, Jessica was surprised there was no blood. She didn’t want to touch it but stepped closer and crouched, peering towards the small stump where the person’s ring finger had been neatly sliced off. It looked as if the area had been burned after the amputation to stop any infection and she wondered if the finger had been removed before or after the rest of the hand.

Jessica stood and stepped backwards out of the small white tent into the heat of the morning sunshine with Reynolds just behind her. The inspector was a tall black officer who had an outwardly friendly demeanour but, when he wanted to be, was as tough as anyone she knew. She walked towards the edge of the police tape surrounding the scene, stopping before she got too close to the nearby uniformed officer who was preventing passers-by from getting too good a look. ‘What do you reckon happened to the missing finger?’ she asked.

‘Who knows? It looks as if it was cut off as cleanly as the hand itself,’ the inspector replied.

‘Do you think the person it’s from is dead?’

Reynolds blew out through his teeth as he squinted into the sun. ‘Probably. We’ll have to check the records to see if there have been any remains found in the past year or two that are missing a hand. There’s nothing to say it would definitely be from a body from our area, so we’ll have a bit of work to do. The way it’s been preserved, it could be an old victim or someone brand new. Whoever left it has been very careful.’

‘Not much to go on, was there?’ Jessica said. ‘No tattoos or anything.’

‘I know. Given its shape with the wider fingers I’d bet it was a man’s hand but that could just be minor decomposition. It looks as if whoever cut it off has kept it carefully. We’re going to have to wait for the forensics team to see if they can find anything.’

‘Yeah, you’ve got to hand it to the lab boys, they do a top job.’

Reynolds looked at Jessica, eyebrows raised. ‘I really don’t think stand-up comedy is the career for you.’

Jessica grinned back. ‘Oh come on. Just because you’ve been promoted, it doesn’t mean you have to stop laughing at my jokes.’

‘I don’t remember ever laughing at your jokes.’

‘All right, fine, be grumpy. What are we going to do next?’

Reynolds looked around at the buildings surrounding them. ‘The thing is, this is the centre of Manchester, the second or third biggest city in the country. Just look at the cameras.’ He pointed out the CCTV units mounted high on the shops, hotels and flats nearby. ‘This is Piccadilly Gardens. You couldn’t have picked a more public spot if you tried. Whoever left this wanted it to be found.’ He paused, as if pondering what he wanted to do. ‘If you take a constable and look through the footage from last night, I’ll start working through any missing persons reports to see if there have been any bodies found without a hand nationwide. By the time we’ve gone through all that, we might have some test results back to give us a gender and age for the victim.’

Jessica looked to the areas the inspector had pointed out. Piccadilly Gardens was one of the main meeting points in the centre of Manchester. The middle part was a mixture of grassy park areas surrounded by benches and fountains, along with concreted and paved sections for people to walk. One side was dominated by a bus and tram station, another lined by a wide walkway and shops. Looming over the top of the area was a hotel and a road with more shops edged along the final side.

Jessica looked back towards the area the hand had been found in, just underneath one of the fountains next to a bench. Unless someone had dropped it, which made some very odd assumptions about the types of thing people carried around with them, it seemed clear the hand had been left purposely.

Jessica could see at least seven security cameras scanning the area, one of which was swivelling high on a pole around fifty feet away from where she was standing. Three other similar cameras were placed around the square. She knew they were linked into a set of other CCTV cameras throughout the city, the images feeding back to a central security point that was manned twenty-four hours a day. Most people thought the cameras were constantly watched by police officers but the operators were a private security firm paid for by the council.

As she scanned around, she could see two other cameras attached to the hotel and a further one high above a shop front. She figured footage from those would be kept somewhere on their respective sites.

Jessica felt the warmth of the June sun on her arms and thought about spending the rest of the day indoors watching camera footage from the night before. ‘Whoever left it could have at least picked a rainy day,’ she said to no one in particular.

Jessica slumped back into her chair and sighed. The office she was sitting in belonged to the private security firm who monitored the city’s cameras. It felt small, lit only by a fluorescent strip on the ceiling above her and the bank of monitors she was facing. She leant forward to press a button on a control panel, stopping the video images she had been watching, then pushing back in her seat again and peering at the woman next to her. ‘Bored of being in CID yet?’

The female officer slouched back in her own chair and laughed. ‘We’ve only been looking through the tapes for an hour.’

‘Exactly, an hour; we could have been out doing all sorts. Someone with a name like yours shouldn’t be stuck inside on a day like this. You should be in a rock band or something.’

‘“Isobel” isn’t that strange a name.’

Jessica nodded. ‘Maybe not but “Izzy” sounds cool. Especially “Izzy Diamond”. It’s too good a name to be wasted on the Greater Manchester Police force.’

‘It wasn’t so “cool” when I was at school. “Dizzy Izzy”, “Isobel-End”, “Izzy A Bloke?” and all that.’

‘That’s quite original bullying,’ Jessica said, trying not to sound too impressed. ‘At my school, I just got called “Dan the Man” for ten years.’

Detective Constable Izzy Diamond had only joined Manchester Metropolitan’s Criminal Investigation Department six weeks before. The division’s detective chief inspector, John Farraday, had given up his job almost seven months ago but stayed on for a short while to help guide his successor into the post. The new incumbent, Jack Cole, had previously been a DI and, with his promotion, Jason Reynolds had been elevated from detective sergeant to inspector. Jessica had previously spent just over two years sharing an office with the then DS Reynolds and the pair’s relationship hadn’t altered much despite his change in job.

Because of the reshuffle and the fact one of their colleagues, DC Carrie Jones, had been killed the previous year, two new constables had been hired. DC Diamond was one of the fresh faces and Jessica had chosen to take the new girl under her wing. There was very little between them in terms of age, with Jessica in her early thirties and the constable less than a year younger.

Jessica glanced away from the monitors to look at the officer. ‘Did you have that colour hair when you were at school?’

Izzy ran her hands through her long bright red mane seemingly without thinking about it. She let it drop to her shoulders then tied it into a ponytail with a band she’d had around her wrist. ‘Nope, it was a type of browny dark colour then. I’ve only been red like this for the past year, since I got married. I fancied a change after we got back from honeymoon.’

Jessica nodded. ‘I think it’s pretty cool.’

‘It scares off the older guys at the station so that’s a bonus. I think most of them think I’m a vampire or something.’

‘What’s it like?’

The constable grinned and had a twinkle in her blue eyes. ‘What, being a vampire?’

Jessica laughed. ‘No, being married.’

Izzy bit her bottom lip. ‘Marriage is fine. My husband, Mal, would like to start trying for kids but I want to do this for a few more years at least before I think about that. I’d rather try the vampirism.’

Jessica looked back towards the monitors and pressed the button that started the footage at double speed. She kept her eyes on the screen, continuing to talk. ‘Is Mal short for Malcolm?’

‘Malachi.’

‘Wow, you two have the best names ever. You did marry him just for the last name though, didn’t you?’

Izzy laughed. ‘Of course. Who could resist “Diamond” as a surname? I used to be “Isobel Smith”, which was way more boring.’

Jessica had worked on a few minor things with the constable since she had been appointed but the mystery over the severed hand was by far the most serious case Izzy had been involved with. Jessica hadn’t been told by anyone she had to go out of her way to work closely with any of the new recruits but had done so anyway. It felt strange because she was Izzy’s supervisor but, in some respects, she felt inferior to her. Jessica lived in a flat on her own, the constable was married and owned a house. It wasn’t that Jessica was desperate to have a boyfriend or settle down but they were roughly the same age and Izzy seemed like the proper grown-up to her. While the constable would do a full day at work and talk about hosting dinner parties and the like, Jessica would spend her evenings either in front of the television or on the Internet while eating microwaved food. The fact the woman next to her could even contemplate having children nailed her down as a genuine adult. Jessica couldn’t stand other people’s kids – let alone think about having any of her own.

‘My mate’s getting married,’ Jessica said.

‘Someone from the station?’

‘I do have other friends too!’

‘Sorry, I didn’t mean . . .’

‘It’s all right. She’s my oldest friend actually, Caroline. We lived together for ages but grew apart. We’ve only been back in regular contact for the last couple of months or so.’

‘Let me guess, the job came between you?’ From her tone, it sounded as if Izzy spoke from experience.

‘You don’t know the half of it . . .’

Two years previously, Jessica had been trying to find a serial killer. The trail ultimately led her to Caroline’s boyfriend Randall, who tried to kill her. He was currently in a secure hospital and, as far as Jessica knew, hadn’t spoken to anyone since his arrest. After that things hadn’t quite been the same between the pair.

‘Is it something you want to talk about?’ Izzy asked, apparently sensing Jessica’s discomfort.

‘Not really. She phoned and asked if I’d be a bridesmaid for her.’

‘Are you doing it?’

‘Of course. We didn’t fall out and I’d still call her my best friend. I’m glad she asked but I’m not so sure about the whole big event thing. I don’t really do dressing up and all that.’

Izzy peered down at the light brown trouser suit she was wearing, fingering the thin lapel on her jacket. ‘Don’t you ever get bored of these suits every day?’

Jessica glanced away from the screens at her own grey suit. ‘I used to, maybe a couple of years ago. I don’t really think about it now. She’s not picked the dresses yet. I’m worried it will be some sort of pink or yellow monstrosity and I’ll be left living with those horrific photos until the end of time. If anyone from the station sees them . . .’ She drifted off, contemplating how she would struggle to live down those potential images.

The constable laughed, glancing up at the screen Jessica was watching. ‘I think my bridesmaids were worried about the same thing. We all chose together and went for something relatively plain and cream.’

‘Caroline’s favourite colour is purple, so I’m hoping she’s kind.’

There was a short pause as they both watched the monitor. There wasn’t much to see but every now and then a person or two would walk across the shot. After a period of silence, Izzy leant forward. ‘Do we have any idea what time this hand would have been left?’

Jessica slowed the footage so it was playing at one and a half times the regular speed. ‘Presumably after it went dark. It was found a little before eight this morning, so sometime between half-ten last night and then.’ She pointed at the screen. ‘There’s a blind spot during this night footage because of where the street lights are.’

‘What do you reckon’s going on with the hand?’

Jessica made a humming noise. ‘I don’t know. Jason thinks whoever left it wanted it to be found.’

‘You don’t sound so sure.’

‘I agree with him actually but I’m always worried by people who go out of their way to get attention. Most people we deal with don’t want to be caught and do everything they can to avoid it. A handful are genuinely sorry and admit to what they’ve done in order to clear their conscience. Then you get a very tiny minority who want to show off. They’re the ones who are unpredictable but know what they’re doing. Maybe they want to be caught at some stage but not before they’ve made their point.’

‘I’d never thought of it like that.’

‘You don’t until you find yourself in the middle of things.’ Jessica reached forward and set the speed back to double. They sat in silence watching the images slowly lighten in front of them as the sun began to come up.

‘Not bad quality, is it?’ Izzy said.

‘Most of the CCTV you go through isn’t this good. Half the shops with cameras only have these grainy setups where you can’t figure out who someone is even if they’re looking directly at the camera,’ Jessica replied.

‘I’ve had a couple of those when I was back in uniform. It’s ridiculous when you put the pictures out in the papers and you can’t even tell if it’s a man or woman.’

Jessica reached out and paused the footage, putting her finger on the screen in front of them. ‘What’s that?’ she said.

The constable turned to face her as Jessica scrolled the action back a few seconds and let it play at regular speed. The light was still dim but the video clearly showed the back of a figure wearing a long black robe walking across the paved walkway in between the fountains. The figure in itself wouldn’t have necessarily been out of place but, aside from someone sleeping on one of the benches, they were the only person in shot. As the shape moved out of the frame, Jessica flicked the controls to change the angle to one of the other central cameras.

‘Is it someone wearing one of those religious robes? A burqa or niqab?’ Izzy said.

Jessica’s fingers flicked across the controls as she spoke. ‘I don’t think so. Look.’ She pointed towards the new screen that had appeared. ‘There’s no facial cover, it’s just a robe, like a dressing gown. Let’s see if we can zoom in.’ She ran her hand over a dial and the images refocused closer in.

‘Is it a man or a woman?’ Izzy asked.

‘Probably a woman. You can see she’s wearing low heels and has that way of walking as if she’s comfortable in them. It’s the way she’s moving too.’

Izzy clearly agreed. ‘I doubt there are many men out there who can walk so comfortably in heels. I’m not great myself.’

‘There are no clear images of the person’s face. You can just about tell they’re white but nothing more. She knows where the cameras are.’

Jessica pressed buttons to cut from one camera perspective to a second, then a third, before continuing. ‘Look at the angle of her face. She’s deliberately looking down and across because she knows there won’t be a clear view of her.’ She scrolled backwards through the footage to reinforce her point. ‘She’s turning ever so slightly as she walks to keep the angle and is wearing gloves too. This person knows what she’s doing.’

Jessica moved the footage forward, switching between cameras until the hooded figure neared the base of the fountain where the hand had been found. Jessica slowed the stream down to regular speed, watching as the cloaked figure stopped by the edge of the fountain and crouched. She reached across herself, stretching into an inner pocket of the robe and taking out an object that had to be the hand, before placing it on the ground. It seemed as if the figure was deliberately spreading the fingers into the correct position, before nudging it towards a nook between the bench and fountain. Then they stood, walking back the way they came.

Jessica started to ask a question but Izzy got there first. ‘Who the hell is that?’