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

Автор книги: Kerry Wilkinson

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Текущая страница: 9 (всего у книги 60 страниц)

17

Jessica’s first thought was that Hunt was supposed to be busy dealing with Harry’s stabbing case and then she remembered it was Saturday. A second thought then occurred to her; how on earth had a career criminal like Wayne Lapham managed to get one of the best-known defence lawyers in the city, possibly the country, to represent him?

Then the penny dropped.

Lapham had been all over the previous night’s news and there was little doubt he would be on the front of most of that day’s papers. The chance to represent someone as high-profile as that must have been too much for Hunt to resist. Maybe Lapham had even read about Tom Carpenter handing himself in via Hunt? Or perhaps he had seen something of the Worrall case? Hunt certainly got enough coverage so most of Manchester’s underworld must have been aware of him.

Jessica had a peek around Caroline’s door and could see two bodies entwined with each other sleeping under a sheet. She thought she would leave them to it and left the house quietly without changing. She had slept in her suit from the day before but reckoned it would do for a Saturday.

At the station, even with a reduced staff for the weekend, Jessica could feel a buzz as she walked in. A couple of officers were hanging around the entrance area and stopped to look at her as she headed towards reception. The sergeant who had phoned called her over and handed her an envelope with her name on it. ‘This was dropped in for you,’ he said.

Jessica ripped across the top to find a court summons inside. After the trial’s start had been delayed, her day at Crown Court was going to be Tuesday. She was not only going to be facing Peter Hunt today but in three days’ time as well. She wanted to phone Harry but figured it could wait, doubting he would answer anyway.

‘Cole is already in his office,’ said the sergeant. ‘He said to go see him when you got in. The DCI’s upstairs too.’

‘A full house then?’

The desk sergeant gave her a wink. ‘Just like any other day.’

Jessica went to see Cole first. His office was only two doors down from hers and next to the canteen. It was a room smaller than the office she and Reynolds shared but the inspector did have the space to himself. Jessica knocked once and went in. He was sitting behind the desk typing on the computer but stopped and looked up as she entered.

‘Hey,’ Jessica said.

‘You’ve heard then?’

‘Hunt? Yeah, I got the call. Are we going in together?’

‘Yes. I spoke to the DCI already. He was fuming that Hunt was involved but said to play it cool.’

Jessica gave him a small smile. ‘That’s a given for you anyway.’

‘I think he was talking about you.’

Jessica went to the interview room to set up the tape as Cole went to get Wayne Lapham and his solicitor from the holding cells below the station. Although he had come voluntarily, Lapham was still their only suspect in a double murder and had been arrested accordingly. He had been locked in a cell awaiting Jessica’s arrival. A few minutes later, he was brought handcuffed into the interview room by Cole and a uniformed officer, Peter Hunt by his side.

Wayne Lapham was short but still had broad shoulders and a fiery look about him. Jessica knew from his file that he was forty but he looked older. He was unshaven, his greying dark hair cropped close to his head with a visible scar across his forehead that ended above his left eye. He was wearing a sweatshirt but with the sleeves rolled up revealing two arms completely covered with tattoos of varying designs. Jessica saw that his tracksuit bottoms had a small hole in one of the knees. Peter Hunt looked immaculate on the other hand. He stood tall next to his client, towering over him in a brown pinstripe suit that appeared to be custom-fitted. He was wearing a white shirt with a wide collar and a thick matching brown tie knotted tight to his neck. His blond hair had no traces of white or grey and was impressively styled almost into a quiff but with something of a side-parting. He was carrying a leather briefcase that looked very expensive.

They couldn’t have looked more different.

Lapham was the first to sit, Hunt taking the chair next to him. He put his case down by his side and placed a notepad on the table. Cole sat next to the tape recorder, pressing the buttons to start the recording and, as usual, introduced everyone present and formally cautioned the suspect. Jessica stayed standing while that happened before finally taking her seat directly opposite her only suspect.

Nobody had said a word before Wayne Lapham commented: ‘Ye are pretty cute, y’know?’ He was looking directly at Jessica and gave her a wink. She noticed that he had an earring in his right ear and another tattoo just below his earlobe. He had a Scottish accent that had mellowed with time but was still noticeable.

Peter Hunt said nothing so Jessica let the silence hang before asking him where he had been during the hours Yvonne Christensen had been killed.

Wayne’s reply was forceful, a direct challenge. ‘Pub? Home? Sleeping? I dunno. Where were you?’

Cole stepped in. ‘Mr Hunt, would you like to advise your client?’

Hunt had a neutral expression on his face, looking down at a notepad in front of him. He glanced at his client. ‘Just answer as best you can.’

‘I’ll try again,’ Jessica said before repeating the question.

Wayne said nothing but smiled ever so slightly. ‘Tuesday at twelve I was at the pub until I went home for tea. I stayed there until midday the next day when I went back to the pub. Simple; if I’m not at home, I’m at the pub.’

His attitude was already pushing Jessica’s buttons. ‘Not breaking into people’s homes then?’

Hunt immediately cut in, looking up from his notes at Jessica. ‘Excuse me. Are you accusing my client of breaking into homes on that day?’

Jessica ignored him, asking where Wayne had been between the times they thought the murder had happened.

Wayne didn’t even sound angry, just antagonistic. He hadn’t taken his eyes off Jessica once during the interview. ‘Are you deaf?’

‘Just answer,’ Hunt said quietly.

‘Home and pub. It’s not hard.’

Jessica met his glare. ‘The problem is, Wayne, that you’re the only link we have to both of these murders. Isn’t it funny, you burgle both their houses then a year later they end up dead?’

Wayne slid his chair back slightly, making it screech along the floor. Finally taking his eyes from Jessica he laughed quietly as Hunt spoke again. ‘My client has never been found guilty of a burglary. I think you should be careful of who you’re accusing.’

Jessica again let it hang in the air, refusing to rise to the retort. ‘Okay then, Wayne, let’s go back to last year. Let’s talk about this man in the pub you “bought” all those stolen items from, shall we?’

Hunt moved as if he was about to speak but simply let out a little cough. Jessica met Wayne’s gaze again. He had eyes that were a very pale blue, almost grey. His stare was unwavering. ‘I don’t really remember.’

‘Come on, Wayne, this mysterious man is the number one suspect in a double murder. You’re our star witness. Do you want to try again?’

‘He was a man.’

‘That’s a start . . .’

‘Wearing a baseball cap.’

Jessica said nothing.

‘I don’t remember any more than that.’

Jessica sighed, looked at Cole, then Hunt, then back at Wayne. ‘The problem is that I don’t believe you. I don’t believe there was a man in the pub. I think you stole those items and I think you went back to those houses and murdered two innocent people for whatever reason you could come up with.’

She wasn’t sure if she did believe that but had nothing else to go on. Hunt spoke louder this time. ‘My client has been cleared of those burglaries. Cleared. Now if you have any evidence, any single scrap at all that he was at any of those scenes then – or at any of them last week – please produce it. If not, let him go and we can all get back to enjoying the weekend.’

Jessica ignored him. ‘How did you get back into those houses a second time?’

No answer.

‘How did it feel strangling those victims, Wayne?’

The two of them continued to stare at each other as if Cole and Lapham’s lawyer were invisible. ‘Did you enjoy it?’ Jessica added.

Hunt started to stand up, pulling his pad from the table as if to indicate the interview was over, but his client didn’t move.

‘Fuck ye,’ Wayne said aggressively.

‘You’d like that wouldn’t you? Violent man like you. Is that what you got up to in prison? Is that how you got that scar?’

‘De-tec-tive!’ Hunt was shouting now, standing up to his full height and indicating for his client to do the same. Cole shuffled nervously in the seat next to her but neither Jessica nor Wayne moved. The suspect didn’t say a word, continuing to stare at Jessica, neither of them wanting to be the first to look away.

He growled his response. ‘Yous have got fuck all on me and yous know it.’

Jessica did know it and trying to wind him up was having the opposite effect. She was allowing herself to be frustrated by his lack of cooperation. ‘Who’s the girl?’ Jessica asked.

Hunt was still standing but, with the obvious lack of movement from his client, had little option other than to sit again.

‘What girl?’

‘The one at your flat. Wife? Girlfriend? Mistress? Sister? Girlfriend and sister?’

‘What’s it to ye?’

‘Nothing . . . just that when she phoned to tip you off about us looking for you yesterday, that was what we call “obstructing a police constable in execution of their duty”. It’s a criminal offence, something I know you are very familiar with.’

Cole shuffled nervously and Jessica knew she was on thin ice. ‘We’ve already checked the phone records,’ she lied, snapping her fingers. ‘I could send an officer around to pick her up like that.’

Wayne finally looked away, peering towards his Hunt. ‘Is that true?’

Hunt stumbled over his words. ‘I, er, well, I don’t know. It could be an offence . . .’

His client was suddenly angry, his cool expression and steely stare gone. Jessica had the feeling she was finally seeing the real Wayne Lapham. ‘Why won’t ye lot leave us alone? I’ve not done nothing wrong. Every time I get out and try to get clean I have ye lot banging on my door, stopping me in the street. It’s not right.’

He was finally animated; banging on the desk with his cuffed hands, any pretension of coolness gone.

‘“Not done nothing” is a double negative, Wayne. Can I take that as a confession?’ Jessica smiled.

Hunt cut back in. ‘Don’t be bloody ridiculous.’ He looked to Cole. ‘Are these questions going anywhere? If you’ve got anything at all on my client then charge him. If not, let’s end this ridiculous grandstanding.’

Even Hunt’s demeanour had slipped with that exchange. Jessica knew she was pushing it. She didn’t even know where she was going but hoped her superior wouldn’t shut her down. ‘The problem is, Wayne, that you don’t go out and get clean, do you? At the very least you go out and buy a load of stolen gear from some bloke down the pub who you just happen to not remember.’

Wayne was back to staring at her; the calm had returned. ‘Ye are even cuter when ye are angry.’ He winked at her again.

Cole cut in even before Hunt could. ‘Right, this is going nowhere.’ He gave the time and said he was terminating the interview before stopping the tape and getting to his feet. ‘Mr Lapham, you are free to leave. I will find the keys to those cuffs and you can go out with your legal representative. Check with the sergeant on the front desk on the way out. He will give your lawyer further instructions regarding police bail. You may have to return at a later date.’

Cole left the room, leaving the door slightly ajar. Hunt was also standing and packing his notepad into his briefcase, shaking his head while making tutting noises. Jessica and Wayne remained sitting, weighing each other up. Jessica finally relented, scraping her chair back, turning around and walking towards the door. Before she could get there, Wayne spoke. ‘Detective . . .’

Jessica turned around.

‘That is one mighty fine arse ye’ve got there. I would love to have a go on that.’ He used both hands, still handcuffed, to grab his crotch. ‘I’ll bet ye are a real goer, yeah?’

Hunt went to say something but Jessica acted on instinct. She took two strides across the room and leant over the table so she was at eye level around a foot away from him. ‘You think you’re a real hard man, don’t you, Wayne?’

He eyeballed her as Hunt said something about the interview being over. Jessica ignored him and stared directly into Wayne’s eyes. ‘It must take a really hard man to break into people’s houses and take their possessions before getting some slimy shitbag like this to get them off.’

She heard Hunt splutter as Wayne’s gaze flickered away for a fraction of a second, perhaps unnerved by how close they were.

‘I don’t think you’re hard, Wayne. I don’t think you’re hard at all. I think you’re a pathetic little man who’s pissed their life away. And do you know what else? I think you’re all talk.’

She moved even closer to him, just six inches between them now. ‘Do you know how to fight, Wayne? I bet you think you do. Most people start by throwing a few punches.’

Her gaze hadn’t shifted but Wayne’s had. He had shunted his chair backwards slightly, looking towards his speechless lawyer. Neither Jessica’s tone nor eye line had wavered. ‘The thing is, Wayne, it’s not about how you throw those punches, it’s where you target them. For instance, if you punch someone hard in the windpipe, that would crush their larynx. They would go into instant shock. But, because they’d be in shock, they wouldn’t quite be aware of how to fight back. Do you know punching someone in the nose isn’t really an effective way of breaking it?’

She used her left hand to rub her right palm but otherwise didn’t move. Hunt was frozen to the spot, his client desperately looking from side to side. ‘The best way to truly put someone out of action is to use the base of your palm to hit upwards through their nose. As well as a crushed larynx, their nose will shatter.’

Jessica finally moved backwards, albeit only half a step. There was silence. Hunt hadn’t moved and Wayne was staring back at Jessica not knowing what to say. ‘So there you go, Wayne. You think I’m a goer, how about you fucking try me?’

Jessica saw a visible bead of sweat appear on his forehead. She held out her hand towards him. ‘Just touch me and let’s see what happens, shall we?’

18

Jessica was in the ladies’ toilets at the station. She locked herself in a cubicle after checking the rest of the facility was empty and sat on the closed seat. Her heart rate had only just started to drop and she felt a complete mess. Her day-old clothes were beginning to get uncomfortable and she had an overwhelming feeling of being trapped. Something had come over her in the interview room that had never happened before.

She sat with her head in her hands and sobbed silently to herself. Jessica didn’t even remember everything she had said or done with Wayne Lapham. It was less than five minutes ago but already she could see only flashes of the incident. It was as if she had watched herself from the corner of the room, an out-of-body experience of sorts. She remembered Peter Hunt shouting for an officer and calling her ‘out of control’. She remembered Cole returning and looking bemused as she stomped out of the room, past the uniformed officer and down the hallway into the toilets she sat in now. The parts between Cole leaving the room and him returning were patchy.

What on earth had happened? She didn’t even know where all that stuff had come from. She had never hurt anyone like that in her life. You got basic combat training in the force but they didn’t go out of their way to hurt anybody. She had read a few guides on Internet sites and knew how to look after herself, while Harry had given her those tips about targeting people’s windpipes and noses if you were in trouble. She could only assume that, as her emotions had got the best of her, the things she had absorbed had all come out in the most venomous way she could have managed. In some ways it could be fearfully impressive but that wasn’t how she felt.

Jessica heard the main bathroom door open and someone enter. She held her breath and lifted her feet off the ground, though didn’t really know why she was doing it. She listened to the other person enter one of the cubicles next to her and waited for the flush and the sound of water gushing from the sinks. Eventually the door went and she was alone again.

Jessica had never really been an emotional person. The last time she remembered crying was when Caroline’s parents had died almost a decade ago. Caroline’s devastation had affected her significantly but helped them bond. Jessica genuinely felt her friend’s pain and they had cried together at the funeral. They were such good friends but also such opposites. Jessica generally didn’t get attached but Caroline would cry at everything from videos on the Internet, to movies at the cinema, to articles in the paper and even, on one occasion, an advert on television. While Jessica was fiery and easily angered, Caroline was consistently cool and very little fazed her. They constantly ribbed each other about things. If they were watching some TV show with an animal in, Jessica would throw a box of tissues at her friend ‘just in case you go off again’. Caroline, meanwhile, had devised a sliding scale of Jessica’s moods, ranging from ‘a tad sweary,’ to ‘particularly sweary’, to ‘volcanic sweary’. Who knows what she would have made of her friend’s mood in the interview room?

It was all in good humour but Jessica sat wondering if perhaps her temper had become too much of a problem. She was also struggling to figure out why she was crying. Was she upset, embarrassed or even fearful for her future after what had happened? And why had she let Wayne Lapham wind her up so much?

Jessica took a deep breath and stopped to think. In truth, she didn’t believe Wayne was the man they were looking for. His list of crimes was long but didn’t have anything on it that indicated he was capable of two brutal murders. She also believed his life was as pathetic as visiting the pub and going home, probably with a little bit of criminality on the side. He didn’t seem intelligent enough to set up the scenes either. Someone had very cleverly and deliberately covered their tracks by not only making sure they left no trace of themselves with the bodies but also hiding the very way the murders had even been conceived.

Could Wayne Lapham really have figured out a way to get into a house and out again undetected? He was a thug and a bully and Jessica had no doubt he’d broken into those houses a year ago. Sneaking in through partially open windows was his style. Subtlety was something she doubted he could spell, let alone pull off.

That left her wondering about her own behaviour. Why had she threatened him? Whatever the reasons and whether she had simply lost it, she had at least achieved one thing. She had seen it in Wayne’s eyes as he panicked and looked to Peter Hunt for assistance. He hadn’t touched her, he wouldn’t have dared. He was the most scared person in that interview room and, despite his bravado, he was no murderer.

Jessica dried her eyes and unlocked the cubicle’s door. She checked herself over in the mirror, smoothed her hair down and retied it into a ponytail, thinking it was definitely getting too long. She straightened her suit and left the room.

The hallway was unnervingly quiet. It was a weekend but, even so, the silence boomed in Jessica’s ears. She wasn’t due to be in that day but, given the nature of her job and the case itself, was pretty much always ready to come in at short notice. She walked down the hallway towards her office, wondering if she should go home or if there was anything else she could do. Lapham had been released and there would be paperwork to go with that.

As she rounded the corner that would take her to her office, she almost walked straight into Cole. They both stepped back. ‘You okay?’ he said.

‘Yes, I’m fine.’

‘What happened in there? Hunt was fuming. He practically ran up to see the chief inspector and then stormed out with Lapham a few minutes later.’

Jessica had pretty much expected that would be the lawyer’s reaction. ‘Not much. We exchanged words.’

Cole gave her a sideways look as if to imply he knew it must have been much more than that but he said nothing. ‘I think the DCI wants a word.’

‘Right.’

Jessica went to head towards the stairs but, as she half-turned, Cole added: ‘Do you reckon he’s our man?’

She looked back towards him. ‘Do you?’

Neither of them said anything but Jessica could tell from her superior’s look that he was thinking exactly what she was: ‘No’.

She made her way up the stairs and could see Aylesbury in his office through the window. She knocked and he waved her in. ‘DS Daniel,’ he said, indicating for her to sit down. She did but said nothing. They looked at each other as if waiting for the other to talk first. He eventually broke the silence. ‘Is there anything you want to tell me?’

Jessica paused for a moment. ‘No, Sir.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Yes, Sir.’

Aylesbury nodded slowly, his eyes darting across her as if trying to read her thoughts. ‘Cole says Wayne Lapham has been bailed. I think we all know we don’t have enough to keep him in.’ Jessica nodded but said nothing. ‘I think you should go home for the weekend and then we might need to talk again on Monday, yes?’

‘Yes, Sir.’

Jessica was back in the exact position she had been in what seemed like barely hours ago – sitting with her feet underneath her on the sofa in her flat, mulling over yet another shambles. It was now early afternoon and the flat was once again empty. Caroline had left her a note on the coffee table in the living room.

‘Gone to lunch and shops. Call if you want to join us. X. C.’

Jessica didn’t fancy either lunch or shopping. She wondered how many more times she could mess something up before someone stepped in to remove her from the case. There were already rumours the Serious Crime Division were looking to swoop in to hunt the ‘Houdini Strangler’. The SCD had been set up a few years previously and dealt with a wide range of crimes. No one in CID was really sure whether what they were working on would fall under the remit of the SCD. Certainly any larger gang crime would usually be referred to them but a lot seemed to come down to how busy the SCD were at any given time. It was often felt that, if they were having a particularly quiet month, they would look for anything decent CID were handling and then take the case on themselves in order to not have their budget cut. They were just one in many confusing layers of law-enforcement where Jessica often felt not even those involved knew who answered to whom. Everyone just fought hard to make sure their own departments looked busy and successful when the time came for budgets to be allocated.

She only knew two things about the upcoming week. First, she would be in Aylesbury’s office first thing on Monday, probably for a dressing down, possibly to be taken off the case and maybe to be suspended outright. Second, she was due in court on Tuesday to face Peter Hunt again. She hoped she would make a better go of it second time around.

Thinking ahead to her court date, she figured now was as good a time as any to phone Harry. It was pushing six months since they had last talked. She flicked through her phone’s list of contacts and pressed the call button when it got to ‘Harry Thomas’.

It rang once. Twice. Jessica was about to leave a message, as she had done many times, when the line clicked and went silent for a moment. ‘Hello,’ came a voice from the other end.

‘Harry?’

‘Yeah.’

‘It’s Jessica . . . I . . . I didn’t think you’d answer.’ Silence. ‘Are you okay?’ she continued.

‘How’s the case going?’

He clearly didn’t want to make small talk but would have seen coverage of the ‘Houdini’ case in the papers and on the news.

‘Not great.’

‘Aye, it’s a weird one . . .’

Jessica had no idea what came over her but, for the second time that day, she broke into tears. ‘Oh, Harry . . .’ He didn’t say anything but she tearfully continued. ‘I don’t know what I’m doing. Things are a mess. We’ve had no leads, no idea how these killings link together and then, when we finally make a connection, I blow it. I let Lapham get away and, even when we got him back, I screw it up and he’s back out again.’

‘You got him back?’

‘He walked into the station with Peter Hunt this morning.’

‘Hunt?’

‘Yes.’

‘What a shitbag.’

Jessica laughed slightly through the tears. ‘That’s what I said.’

‘You said that?’

‘Yes.’

‘To him?’

‘Yeah.’

Jessica could hear Harry laughing. Huge belly laughs and snorts. And then she was giggling too. She had barely heard Harry that happy even when they worked together. ‘What did he say?’ Harry managed to ask in between the guffaws.

‘Nothing really. He didn’t get a chance to say anything.’

Harry continued to laugh. ‘That is bloody fantastic.’

Jessica grabbed a box of tissues from the table and blew her nose, the tears now gone. She smiled and tried to stop herself joining in but Harry’s laugh was infectious. It took a while until both of them had finally stopped. ‘Are you okay, Harry?’

‘Me? Yeah, I’m just a stubborn, silly old man. Don’t you worry about me, detective sergeant.’ He had never had the chance to call her that before. It sounded good. He sounded proud.

‘We all worry . . .’ Harry said nothing, so Jessica swallowed before continuing. ‘What happened in court?’

Harry didn’t reply for a few moments and she wondered whether he would but then the answer came. ‘Nothing. He wound me up.’

‘He winds everyone up.’

‘Kid’s gonna get off.’

Jessica didn’t want to acknowledge that, not knowing if it was true. ‘What would you do with the case, Harry?’

‘Link the bodies. People don’t kill at random, not really.’

‘We thought Lapham was the link.’

‘Do you still think that?’

‘No.’

Harry paused again. Jessica didn’t know if it was deliberate or if he simply didn’t have anything to say. ‘Some people will do anything to get themselves ahead, detective sergeant. Or get revenge. Everyone has a dark side. You’d be surprised what can bring it out.’

His statement sounded ominous and Jessica didn’t know how to respond directly, so she changed the subject. ‘Do you know I’m in on Tuesday?’

‘Yes.’

‘Do you fancy a drink afterwards?’

‘Are you buying?’

‘Of course.’

‘I’ll see you there then.’