Текст книги "Jessica Daniel: Think of the Children / Playing with Fire / Thicker Than Water"

Автор книги: Kerry Wilkinson

сообщить о нарушении

Текущая страница: 13 (всего у книги 56 страниц)

Jessica held her breath as she pressed the button to display the earliest one: ‘Got him’.

The second was even more chilling: ‘Will wait til its dark then meet you at the shed’.

Jessica slid the face down on the phone and put it on the side table before turning and dashing into the hallway. The two piles of mail were still on the floor and she picked up the smaller one. The top letter was a glossy pamphlet addressed to ‘Ian Sturgess’, a similar one underneath was for ‘Ben Sturgess’. Jessica flicked from one to the other quickly before reaching a letter addressed to another person she had spent the past few weeks struggling to find. The shiny leaflet was clearly some sort of junk mail but the name on the front was printed in tidy black characters.

‘Glenn Harrison’.

23

Still holding the letter, Jessica made for the kitchen. As Deborah hadn’t gone upstairs or into the living room, it was the only place she could be. She found the other woman sitting on a stool staring out into the garden. Most of the light had gone and the only illumination was from the neighbouring houses. ‘Deborah?’

The woman turned; her eyes were red but she wasn’t crying. ‘Sorry, I—’

‘Who’s Glenn Harrison?’

Deborah shook her head slightly, wiping one of her eyes. ‘Who?’

Jessica held up the letter and pointed to the name. ‘Glenn Harrison. This letter was for him, you put it in a pile with the other junk mail.’

Deborah blinked furiously. ‘Oh yes. It’s a bit of an odd story. When we first moved into our old house when we were married, we kept getting mail for this “Glenn Harrison” person. We assumed he lived there before us but there was no forwarding address and the house was sold at auction. We kept loads for about a year but ended up throwing them all away eventually. What we started to do was that whenever we had to sign up for something where you knew you’d end up getting junk mail or phone calls, we gave the name “Glenn Harrison”. That way, if we got a letter for him, we knew it could go in the bin. We’d have all these companies calling up wanting to talk to “Mr Harrison”. It was only for stupid things, not bills or anything like that.’

‘Why would he still be getting letters here?’

Deborah shrugged. ‘I don’t know. When we divorced, we sold the place and got separate mortgages. I guess Ian did a similar thing with the name and his new address? I’ve picked up one or two in the past when I’ve been looking after his house. It’s like that all the time now with junk mail and phone calls, especially if you do anything online. I do these survey things on the Internet for a bit of extra money but they’re all for “Glenda Harrison”. It was just a little joke we had between us.’

Jessica nodded. ‘Can you wait here for a bit? I have to make a call.’ Without waiting for Deborah to ask anything else, she walked through to the living room, closing the door before handing Rowlands the letter and pointing to the name.

His open mouth said it all. ‘Wow.’

‘Did you find anything on the other phone?’

‘I didn’t really look.’

Jessica nodded. ‘Call the station. We’re going to have to get people here to search the rest of the house plus experts to take the phones away and any laptop he might have. Someone’s going to have to take Deborah in too, if only to question her about her husband.’

The constable realised the implication. ‘Where are you going?’

‘To the allotment.’

‘Didn’t they already check it over?’

‘I want to see it again for myself. There was a text message about it. I think Benjamin was working with someone and they took Isaac to the shed. Make sure forensics take that phone. We need to get the number traced.’

The constable looked back at Jessica nodding, then it dawned on him. ‘But we came in my car . . .’ He tailed off as Jessica raised her eyebrows expectantly. ‘Seriously? But you’re a dreadful driver,’ he pointed out.

‘I am not. That’s a myth, largely spread by you.’

‘You’re really going to take my car?’

‘Look at it this way, if you get it back in one piece, you haven’t lost anything. If I crash it then you were right all along. Either way, you win.’

Rowlands reached into his pockets. ‘I win if you crash my car?’

‘Yes.’

Jessica held her hand out and the constable placed his car keys in it. She pocketed them.

‘Cheers, Dave. Is there a torch in your car?’

‘In the boot. I started keeping one in there after we went to the allotment the last time and it was getting dark. Why?’

‘Why do you think? Because it’s dark.’ Rowlands groaned. Jessica was about to leave before she turned back. ‘Don’t tell anyone where I’ve gone until they get here. I want a head-start.’

It took Jessica some time to finish sliding the seat forward and adjusting the mirrors before she could leave but she took extra care driving across the city back to the allotment. She was hampered because the levers for the windscreen wipers and indicators were on the opposite side in her vehicle. Each time she tried to indicate, she sent the wipers flying across the window at full speed, then tried to correct things while steering at the same time. Other than that and the annoyance of the roaring exhaust her colleague had purposefully had fitted at some point, the rest of the journey was quite smooth, even though she heard on the radio that part of the M60 had been closed, with traffic standing still on the opposite side of the road as she drove along Stockport Road.

Jessica had to go via the station first to collect the key for the allotment shed but she knew anyone important would already be on the way to Benjamin Sturgess’s house so there would be no one around to question her.

Jessica remembered the route to the allotments from the previous time, parking outside the metal gate. She walked to the back of the vehicle and fumbled in the dark, using the light from her phone as she struggled to unlock the boot. It took a while before she realised the handle she had to pull to open it was actually what she’d assumed was simply the manufacturer’s logo. Jessica was relieved to see the torch Dave mentioned was something suitable: heavy with a wide white beam which lit up the entirety of the boot.

She locked the car and swung around to face the gate. It wasn’t that high but the beam from the torch showed a strong-looking padlock fastened to one side. Jessica climbed the gate and landed with a splash on the other side. She could feel water flowing over the top of her shoes into her socks and winced as she shone the light down to see her foot had gone straight through the top of a lightly iced patch of water into a brownish puddle. Jessica stepped steadily out of the water but the squelching sound made her cringe a second time as she walked slowly along the edge of the plots towards where she knew number sixty-one was.

She could feel a breeze blowing sideways across the open land and, having not expected to spend the final part of the day somewhere like this, she could feel her teeth chattering in the cold December air. Even as a rational adult, Jessica struggled not to think of what was in the dark while she walked. The combination of the wind, the temperature, the night and the noises that came with it felt creepy in a way she knew it shouldn’t. She could feel her sodden sock sliding forward in her shoe with every step but tried to ignore it as she reached the turn where she knew the path led to plot sixty-one.

Jessica had not been back to the allotment since finding the list. After that, a handful of officers had investigated the site and she could see the plot of land next to the shed had been thoroughly excavated. Mounds of dirt were placed at the side, crystallised by the frost. She headed straight to the shed, taking the key she had signed out of the evidence store and putting it into the lock. Jessica had seen the reports of the team finding nothing of interest at the site. There was certainly nothing buried in the immediate area, while, exactly as Izzy had pointed out at the time, the interior was strangely empty.

Jessica unlocked the door and stepped inside, closing it behind her. It wasn’t that much warmer on the inside but the wooden walls offered some protection from the wind. She shone the light slowly from side to side, not knowing what to expect. The text message had told her Benjamin had communicated with someone about this place on the same day Isaac went missing, leaving her to wonder if there was something obvious they had all missed. Apart from some dried muddy footprints, the shed looked much the same as it had before. The table and decrepit chair were in the same place but the gas canister and stove had been taken, presumably by the officers who searched the place.

Jessica re-examined the desk where she had found the list but it was empty. Foam was still coming out of the rips in the chair and she pushed her hands into the material to see if it contained anything further. More foam squeezed out of the sides but there was nothing else. Jessica thought about the wording of the text message.

‘Will wait til its dark then meet you at the shed’.

Could it have referred to a different shed? She knew Benjamin was the same Ian Sturgess who Harry had been told had a close relationship with Toby Whittaker. He also used the name Glenn Harrison, meaning the cases of both missing boys could be connected to the place where she was standing. Surely this was the place he meant?

Her thoughts were interrupted by her phone ringing. Jessica took it out of her pocket and saw Cole’s name on the display. As soon as she had made the decision to visit Benjamin Sturgess’s house without calling in, she knew there would come a time when someone would want to shout at her. As good as her relationship was with her colleagues, there was always the odd occasion where she knew she had overstepped the boundaries. She had spent the past few hours allowing herself to be driven by her own determination to know what was going on, as opposed to the commitment she knew she should be showing to the job.

Aside from the torch, the illuminated phone screen was the only source of light in the room. Jessica watched Cole’s name flash on and off before finally staying off. She pocketed the device and closed her eyes, listening to the wind buffeting the outside of the building.

Jessica opened her eyelids as the chill went through her. She put the torch down in the corner of the room and peered around, wondering what she was missing. If this was where Isaac had been brought, surely someone would have heard him? He could have been drugged but unless he was either watched the entire time, or restrained in some other way, there would have been too great a chance of him being discovered. The allotment wasn’t quite a metropolitan hub of people but there was a steady enough stream to notice if something was different – or hear somebody either calling out or struggling. Jessica thought that if you were going to kidnap a child and keep him somewhere, there would be so many better options than here. In a city that had been built and developed over centuries, there were all sorts of hideaways where people could disappear.

On the other hand, Benjamin, Ian, Glenn or whatever he was called not only had access to this shed, but there was also a list of names with Isaac’s at the top.

Jessica started to pace, knowing the text message referred to where she was. At some point Ben had met someone else in this place on the night Isaac was taken.

For a moment the howl of the wind died down and Jessica noticed something – a slight difference in the sound of her footsteps. She retreated to the corner of the room, then walked to the opposite side, hearing the noise again. She thought about the previous time she had been there, when both Rowlands and Izzy had been present and how the other officers searching the area would have been in pairs at the very least. The wooden boards creaked as she stood on them but, towards the centre, the tone changed.

She sunk to her knees and began to tap the floor with her knuckles, remembering how she thought Rowlands was wasting his time doing something similar to the walls but now wishing he had been more thorough. As she switched to using her palm, Jessica could feel how there was a slight difference to the surface. She crawled across the floor, picking up the torch and returning to where she had been sitting, slowly running the light from side to side along the cracks between the boards, looking for something she had failed to see before. Eventually her eyes focused on a patch of wood she had already scanned twice. Now that she really concentrated, she realised that what appeared to be a regular grain on one of the boards was actually a thin gap. Jessica pushed a fingernail into it and slowly ran it along the length until she reached a corner. She continued to trace the outline until she reached another corner and, finally, the whole of her finger slid into the gap between boards. Jessica pushed the fingers from both hands into the thin area and pulled upwards. With almost no effort at all, a hatch popped up out of the floor. Jessica gasped and cursed herself, wondering how she had missed it the first time.

The underside of the wood had thick, shaggy light blue carpet attached which Jessica couldn’t help running her hands through as she placed it upside down on the floor. She reached across for the torch and shone it into the area underneath. The opening was around a metre square but the space below was far larger. The first thing she noticed was more carpet. The whole of the floor underneath was covered with the same fabric as the underside of the hatch. The hidden room was very nearly as wide as the shed. She guessed it was around a metre and a half deep – not as tall as she was but high enough if you were going to keep an eleven-year-old child inside. As she shone the torch into the corners of the space, Jessica could see carpet attached to the walls too. She put the torch down and reached into the room with her hand, running it along the ceiling to feel more carpet. From what she could see, the entire area was covered. It would definitely keep whoever was inside warm but Jessica assumed it would give it a degree of soundproofing too.

She lay flat on her front and again shone the torch inside. There was no blood or any other sign of a struggle. If Isaac had been killed in the room below, considering the colour and texture of the carpet, it would have been almost impossible to clean. It seemed unlikely it could have been replaced without someone noticing although, at some point, it had clearly been installed without attracting undue attention. Jessica hauled herself up, sitting with her legs dangling into the gap.

As she took her phone out of her pocket, she wondered if Toby Whittaker had been brought to this place all those years ago. She flicked her fingers across the screen and pressed the button to show her list of missed calls. Cole might be unhappy with the way she had gone about things in the past day but he certainly wouldn’t be able to accuse her of not making progress.

24

Jessica’s telling-off hadn’t been as bad as she anticipated. The first reason was that Cole had never been one to shout, swear or get upset, the second that everyone was too busy following up her leads. She was sitting in the chief inspector’s office with Reynolds, Cornish, and, surprisingly to her, Rowlands, fully expecting a dressing down but instead had simply been told to follow procedure in future. While Cole gave her the most minor of reprimands, she could sense Rowlands looking at her, wondering how she apparently got away with it every time. The truth was that running headlong into situations had got her into problems in the past and she was fully aware she hadn’t learned her lesson. Like a naughty schoolchild, she almost craved a punishment.

Instead, Cole moved quickly on from the brief admonishment to bringing everyone up to date with what had happened. He looked at his watch before pushing back into his chair and rubbing his eyes. ‘Thanks for coming back,’ he began. ‘It’s been one of those days and I know we’re all supposed to be off tomorrow. I’ve been talking to Superintendent Aylesbury and he’s delighted things are moving. It’s just . . . unfortunate it happens to be Saturday tomorrow and then Christmas Eve the day after.’

Until that morning, Jessica had lost track of the date. She was aware of the decorations and cheesy music in the newsagent’s and off-licence near her flat but had been so caught up with the case and Adam that the last week or so seemed to have passed her by. She had arrived late at Adam’s house the previous evening and it was only that morning when he asked her what she wanted to do for Christmas that she realised it was just days away. Caroline sent her a text message to ask something similar and it hit her that not only had she made no plans, but that very little would happen on the case for the next week or so. It wasn’t that she wanted to stop working on the investigation, simply that everyone else would. It was difficult to talk to people or request information when so many companies and organisations were closed for two weeks. It was like trying to work on a Sunday. Whether she wanted to get on with things or not, it made very little difference over a weekend because no one else was at work.

Around the station, Christmas was the time uniformed officers made their money and grumbled their way through a fortnight. It was full of domestic violence incidents, with family members getting drunk and fighting with each other before waking up in a cell on Boxing Day wondering what had happened. One by one the drunks filed into the station over the festive period and then, when the courts reopened, one by one they were sent packing again. For most, spending Christmas behind bars was deemed punishment enough.

Luckily for Jessica, unless there was an active element of a case to be worked on, many members of CID were given a certain leeway over their hours during the holiday season.

Put on the spot that morning, Jessica announced to Adam what she wanted to do for Christmas. It was fair to say he wasn’t delighted at the prospect but he agreed, as had Caroline. She spent the whole day trying to catch a moment with Dave to see if he was up for it but had barely seen him until this moment. Izzy said she would have loved to be involved with Jessica’s idea but already had plans.

Her mind was drifting when she was brought back by Cole. ‘Jess?’

‘Sir.’

‘Do you want to go first?’

‘Yeah, sorry.’ Jessica turned in her seat to address the other officers. ‘I’ve spent the day in the freezing cold watching a bunch of officers stare into a hole and ask, “Is that carpet?”. Essentially we discovered a secret room of sorts underneath the allotment shed where we found the list of children’s names. Everything has been stripped out and sent to the labs and, from what I overheard, there are a couple of officers in for a right bollocking for not finding the room in the first place. There’s not much else to say really.’

Cole nodded his head towards Cornish, who uncrossed her legs and leant forward. ‘I’ve been at Benjamin Sturgess’s house. All the electronic items were taken away but because of the hidden room under the allotment shed, people have been tearing the rest of the house apart too. I’ve not had much to do with that but, so far, nothing has shown up.’

Her tone of voice made it clear she wasn’t impressed at being taken from whatever she was working on to go and watch a house being destroyed. Ordinarily, a CID member wouldn’t be needed or sometimes even welcome at a scene such as that but, given the complete failure to find the hidden room under the shed, Cole had called Jessica that morning to say the chief superintendent was on the warpath and wanted people ‘with half a brain cell between them’ to oversee the day’s main activities. Because she and fellow sergeant Cornish had been out all day, Rowlands had been left looking for a paper trail along with Izzy.

Cole ignored the sergeant’s tone and looked at Rowlands. ‘David?’

As far as Jessica was aware, the constable had never sat in on a senior team briefing. She knew him pretty well and heard a twinge of hesitation in his voice. ‘We’ve been trying to find out as much as we can about “Benjamin Sturgess”, “Ian Sturgess” and “Glenn Harrison”. It now seems they are all the same person and we know Ian gave up teaching around twelve years ago. He and his wife sold their house around six years back. That was where our trail ended until yesterday. We’ve been trying to fill in the blanks but, so far, there’s not been anything to find. Benjamin Sturgess has a couple of books out but neither of them seem to be big sellers. We’ll keep looking but it seems like he’s lived a very normal life, albeit under his original name, as opposed to his middle name. Aside from finding them in a car together and the map, obviously, we haven’t got anything to connect him to Isaac Hutchings and, apart from the fact he used to teach Toby Whittaker, we’re struggling there too.’

Jessica winked at him to let the constable know he had done all right. Cole turned to the final person in the room. ‘Jason?’

Reynolds let out a large sigh. ‘I’ve spent the day interviewing Benjamin Sturgess’s former wife, Deborah. They are divorced but still have some sort of relationship.’

‘What was she like?’ Jessica interrupted. She’d wanted to do the interview but hadn’t argued with the chief inspector when he had given her instructions that morning.

The inspector tilted his head to one side. ‘Hard to read; sad without being upset, confident without being aggressive. She didn’t seem particularly evasive. She says they just drifted apart in their marriage. I asked her about the relationship with her husband but everything she said seemed as you would expect.’

‘Did you ask about Toby Whittaker?’ Jessica asked.

‘Yes, we talked about all sorts. It was one of those awkward ones where you’re not interviewing a suspect but, at the same time, you have to be careful how much you give away because they could become one at some point. She’s now aware of what we think her husband did but I didn’t ask too much because I would have had to reveal everything we knew. As for Toby, she says she hadn’t heard of him.’

‘What did she say about the shed?’ Jessica asked, wondering if anyone else had any questions or just her.

‘Not much. She reckoned her husband kept an allotment patch. Apparently his father did and he inherited the whole gardening thing. She says she had never been there, it was just something he did a few nights a week.’

It sounded plausible to Jessica. If Adam ever announced he was a gardener in his free time, she would certainly have no interest in helping.

There was a small silence before Cole spoke. ‘She was cautioned but not arrested and has been let out. We’ve got no reason to assume she had anything to do with any of this. The phones DS Daniel found at Sturgess’s house have gone off to forensics and they’ve taken a computer too. As for results, they told us the number that was texted from the phone is unregistered so we don’t know who the messages went to. Everything else has been deleted but they’re working on it. I’ve been told not to expect anything any time soon. I spoke to the head guy over there but, to cut a long story short, he says they have to pay their staff double for working over the Christmas period. With budgets the way they are, they’re shutting down for the best part of a week for anything except time-sensitive work. I spoke to DSI Aylesbury but he didn’t want to get involved so I don’t think we’ll be getting much until at least next week, if not the new year.’

Adam worked for the forensics department, albeit not the electronics section. Jessica already knew he was off work until the middle of the following week. There was another pause as Cole scanned the room. ‘Do we think this is it? Benjamin Sturgess kidnapped Isaac Hutchings, killed him, then got caught while he was dumping the body? We might be able to connect him to Toby Whittaker’s disappearance and presumed murder because of the map – although we wouldn’t be able to prove much as we haven’t found a body. People above me seem keen to get this done and dusted.’

Jessica could hear the uncertainty in his voice. With the pressure he was under from his superiors, there must be a strong incentive to get everything tidied away nicely in time for Christmas. She could sense that he wasn’t quite convinced.

‘This is nonsense,’ Jessica said. She could feel everyone’s eyes on her as the words spilled out. ‘Sorry, but it is. From the text messages, it’s clear there’s at least one other person involved. Benjamin messaged someone to say they should meet at the “shed”. If nothing else, we’ve got to find out who that is.’

There was silence for a few moments before Cole replied. ‘The forensics team will be looking into that but, for now—’

Jessica didn’t let him finish. ‘“For now” what? We’re going to tell the media we’ve got our man so everyone can let their kids out to play again? What about the map? Benjamin was driving but didn’t know where he was going. If it was just him who had done all of this on his own, he would know. What about the stolen car? This is a guy in his fifties. Are we saying he hooked Daisy Peters’s keys out of her house and drove away? He doesn’t live anywhere near her but somehow he knew she lived alone? Where did he get the information for that list of kids we found? He’s not a teacher any longer but he knew their names and addresses. He must have got that from somewhere.’

There was a longer silence where no one dared say anything. Cole was staring at Jessica and she could see in his eyes that he didn’t want to be there. ‘What do you suggest we do?’ he asked quietly.

‘We find out who he was working with.’

‘There’s nothing to stop us doing that. Forensics are looking into things but we can’t do anything else until those results come back. It’s just been suggested to me that if we release the information about Benjamin Sturgess to the media tonight or tomorrow . . .’

He didn’t finish the sentence but he didn’t have to. Jessica knew what he was implying. If the information was released it would give the public a nice impression of them to savour over Christmas. Meanwhile, they could continue looking for whoever the second person might be. If they found out, great. If not, they already had a man to pin everything on – a dead person who wouldn’t be able to refute anything.

‘Are you going to go along with this?’ Jessica asked, more aggressively than she meant to.

Cole spoke quietly but determinedly. ‘It’s not really up to me.’

‘In the press conference, are we at least going to tell the media we are still looking for a second person?’

Cole said nothing but she could tell by looking at him that the answer was ‘No’. It wasn’t as if they were appealing for witnesses because, so far, all they had to go on was an unregistered phone number a text message had been sent to. Without anything specific to take to the public, it seemed someone higher up in the force had decided they would host a triumphant media event and conveniently ignore the secondary evidence.

Jessica met the chief inspector’s eyes. She had known him for around a decade in total and been something close to a friend for some of those years. ‘At least tell people the investigation isn’t closed,’ she said with a softer tone.

‘It’s not my call.’

‘But you’ll be there. You can say what you want.’

He spoke quietly but emphatically. ‘No.’

‘But—’ Jessica couldn’t finish before Cole spoke over her.

‘We’re finished here. Everyone go home and have a good Christmas.’

‘Sir, I . . .’

The chief inspector suddenly rose to his feet, sending his chair clattering into the wall behind him. Jessica had rarely seen him angry but his eyes were wide and glaring straight at her. ‘Don’t even think about talking about this externally.’

It was the most threatening thing Jessica had ever heard him say and utterly out of character. She knew he was referring to a journalist friend of hers, warning her not to leak the information. ‘I wasn’t going to—’

‘Out. Now. Everyone.’

For a second or two, nobody moved, stunned by the venom in the man’s usually calm voice. Everyone stood at the same time and moved quickly towards the door. Nobody spoke as they headed down the stairs in unison towards the ground floor but together the four officers walked to the office Jessica shared with Cornish, even though she hadn’t asked them to.

Once inside, Reynolds closed the door. ‘Just be careful,’ he said firmly, looking directly at Jessica, who was sitting on the corner of her desk.

‘I was just saying what we were all thinking. Or should have been thinking.’ Jessica was feeling defensive but also a little shaken. She had never known Cole become so angry, whether as chief inspector or in his old DI role.

‘Yes, but there are right ways to do things,’ Reynolds went on. ‘Don’t forget he’s getting it from all sides.’ Jessica shrugged, feeling uncomfortable. ‘Are you okay?’ he added.

‘Fine.’

The inspector weighed her up for a moment before responding. ‘Right, I’m heading off. Have a good Christmas and . . . don’t do anything stupid.’ Jessica knew he was also referring to leaking information. Louise didn’t add anything except for a ‘Merry Christmas’ and left the room, leaving Rowlands and Jessica alone.

The two officers stared at each other before Dave finally cracked and burst out laughing. ‘That was hilarious,’ he said in between sniggers. ‘It was like being in church or assembly at school and you’re just holding it in, desperately trying not to laugh.’

Jessica tried to remain serious but her friend’s laughter was infectious and she couldn’t help smiling. ‘I’m glad you find it funny.’

‘Oh, it was. For a moment I thought he’d actually swear. Everyone’s always going on about how calm he is. Imagine if he’d actually told you to f-off or whatever.’

‘Do you remember that shit game you lot started playing a while back?’ Jessica asked.