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

Автор книги: Kerry Wilkinson

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Текущая страница: 5 (всего у книги 56 страниц)

‘Isaac Hutchings?’ Jessica was puzzled for a moment but remembered the missing boy had received some low-level media attention. As if reading her thoughts, Harry continued. ‘I still keep up with everything.’

When they had worked together, Harry had always spent time each morning reading the newspapers. His knowledge was borderline encyclopaedic. It didn’t surprise Jessica that he was still keeping up to date. She spoke slowly, weighing up how much she should give away. ‘Yes, Isaac.’

Harry pointed towards a dining table in the far corner of the room. It was made of white plastic and looked as if it belonged outside. Two fold-up stools were leaning against it.

‘Grab a chair,’ he said. Jessica did just that, carrying it across so she was sitting in front of him. Harry was angling forward in his seat and the smell of alcohol was much stronger because of his proximity to her. ‘What do you want to know?’ he asked.

‘Who were your suspects?’

Harry smiled but it was more as if he was enjoying feeling a part of something again than any fond memories of the case. ‘You always look at the parents first. They were right characters and always bickering. I saw them have two blazing rows with each other and I only went to their house three times. I never thought it was either of them though. You get a feeling and they both had alibis. We looked into other family members but there was nothing I remember. There was this neighbour . . .’

Jessica was about to give him the name but Harry waved his hand to stop her. He made an ‘um’ noise for a few moments before clicking his fingers.

‘Someone “Hill”. “Simon Hill”, that’s the guy. He used to live a few doors down from the Whittakers. There was some sort of dispute and I spoke to him. There wasn’t enough to say he was involved but there was something not quite right about him.’

‘How do you mean?’

Harry breathed in deeply, scratching his head. ‘I don’t know. I couldn’t figure it out but he didn’t like being investigated.’

‘Do you think he was involved?’

‘Maybe, his only alibi was his wife but I couldn’t find anything specifically to say he was lying. Some people just stick in your head as not being right.’ Harry stabbed his index finger into his temple as if to emphasise the point.

Jessica couldn’t believe the turnaround in him over just a few minutes. He had gone from being sullen and withdrawn to being upbeat and interested. His memory was astonishing too. She knew from experience it had always been good and he could comfortably recall events and people from years previously but, given the state he appeared to be in, the attention to detail was remarkable.

‘Was there anyone else?’ Jessica asked but Harry was already nodding before she finished the question.

‘There was a teacher. One of Toby’s friends said something about the two of them having a close relationship. We spoke to him but you know what it’s like with teachers and so on, you have to be careful what you accuse them of. There was no evidence of anything untoward and maybe it was just a bloke who wanted to help. You know what I’m like – suspicious.’

Harry gave a small laugh but Jessica felt a chill go down her back. She wondered if she did know what he was like but tried to forget everything that happened three years ago, at least for now. Her priority was getting the information she needed.

‘Can you remember the teacher’s name?’ she asked. She had read it in the file but wondered if Harry’s memory stretched that far.

‘Ian someone.’ Harry shook his head as if trying to jog his memory before finally admitting defeat. ‘Sorry, I can’t remember the last name.’

Jessica got to her feet. ‘Have you still got my phone number?’ Harry had an initial look of disappointment but quickly stood.

‘Yes.’ His response sounded like an apology for not contacting her; he didn’t know that, until now, Jessica hadn’t wanted anything to do with him. There was a moment where he looked at her and Jessica thought about asking him the question that had been in her mind for three years: ‘Did you help Nigel Collins become Randall Anderson?’ Would he even know the significance of those names? Did she want to know the answer? It was as if the man she would have once called a friend was reading her mind again as Harry looked at her expectantly.

‘I’ve got to go,’ Jessica said. She didn’t trust herself to stay quiet and walked past Harry towards the front door. She was about to open it when she heard him shouting behind her.

‘“Sturgess”.’ Jessica turned around and saw Harry entering the hallway. ‘“Sturgess”, that was the teacher’s name. “Ian Sturgess”.’ Jessica faced him and nodded to indicate she knew he was right.

‘Call me if you think of anything else,’ she said before opening the door and making her way quickly back to her car.

Rain continued to fall as Jessica sat in her vehicle. Everything Harry had told her was already in Toby Whittaker’s file, but it had helped to hear it from someone involved and she knew there were now two names to concentrate on – Simon Hill, the neighbour, and Ian Sturgess, the teacher.

She phoned the station where DI Reynolds said the dig at the woods would be beginning the following day. Jessica told him what she had found out and they agreed to meet again in the morning. Someone would be assigned to find out what Hill and Sturgess were up to nowadays, which would hopefully be straightforward.

Jessica drove home but thoughts of Harry swirled in her mind to such a degree that she wasn’t even annoyed by the queuing traffic and falling rain. Something made her wonder if she would ever see him again.

As she pulled into the parking space outside her block of flats and switched off the engine, it took her a few moments to get her bearings. It felt as if she had completed the journey without any conscious thought of where she was heading. Picking up the photocopy of Toby Whittaker’s file from the passenger seat, she held it under her armpit so her jacket would shield it from the rain. Hopping out, she locked the car and bolted down the pathway to her front door, her head down as she ran. As she neared the porch Jessica felt her foot connect with something and found herself falling forwards. Her first thought was to hold onto the file, which she managed to do at the expense of her forehead which crashed head-first into the doorframe.

Jessica’s head felt fuzzy as she tried to turn to see exactly what had happened. Before she could swivel completely she heard the person’s voice.

‘Oh God, Jess, I’m so sorry.’

9

Caroline Bateman was Jessica’s oldest friend and they had known each other for over fifteen years. They had travelled together, moved to Manchester at the same time and shared a flat before drifting apart and finally reconciling shortly before Caroline’s wedding almost a year and a half ago.

Jessica stood, still feeling a little groggy from the fall, and turned to see Caroline also getting to her feet. She could see two large rucksacks on the ground, one of which she had fallen over. ‘What are you . . . ?’ Jessica started to ask but her friend’s tear-streaked face stopped her.

‘It’s over . . .’ Caroline was crying uncontrollably, a combination of the rain and her own sobs drenching her face. Jessica put down the file on the floor underneath the overhang of the porch and pulled the other woman into a hug.

‘What’s over?’

‘Between me and Tom, I’ve left him.’ Jessica had been a mixture of chief bridesmaid and ‘father’ of the bride at her friend’s wedding to Thomas Bateman. She didn’t know him that well but had met him on plenty of occasions. This was the first she had heard of any problems between them.

Jessica released her. ‘Let’s go inside, you’re soaking.’

She picked up both of her friend’s bags, wedged the file under her arm, and then led Caroline upstairs to her flat. The other woman seemed in a daze and followed without saying anything. After getting inside, Jessica took her friend into the kitchen and gave her a towel while putting the kettle on. Jessica rarely made hot drinks for herself but she knew Caroline was an avid tea-drinker. They sat opposite each other at the table, her friend half-heartedly drying her hair.

‘Do you want to talk about it?’ Jessica asked.

Caroline had stopped sobbing and put the towel on the table. ‘You were right,’ she said, not looking up.

‘About what?’

‘Do you remember when I got married and I asked if you thought I was on the rebound from Randall? I wanted you to say “no” but you just said you didn’t know. The problem was that I knew, but I didn’t want to admit it.’

Jessica could feel the burden of Randall and therefore Harry hanging over her even more heavily than before.

Caroline stared at a spot on the table. ‘We’ve been arguing on and off for ages. He’s always at work but it’s not even that. I just don’t love him. It’s taken me all this time to admit it. We had a massive row this morning and I ended up telling him I hated him.’

‘Oh, Caz . . .’

‘It’s okay. The thing is it feels awful but, at the same time, it feels like everything has been lifted too. I’ve known since before the wedding it wasn’t going to work out but it’s taken until now to say anything.’

Caroline made a noise that was somewhere between a laugh and another sob before they were interrupted by the sound of the kettle boiling and clicking off. Jessica made two cups of tea, even though she wasn’t that bothered, and put one down in front of her friend, hanging onto the other one to warm her hands.

‘What are you going to do?’ she asked.

Caroline picked up her own cup then looked at Jessica. ‘I was hoping I could stay here for a while until I’ve figured it all out. I don’t know yet.’

‘That’s fine but isn’t it your flat you were sharing?’

‘It was. I took out the mortgage but then added Tom onto it. It’s both of ours but he doesn’t have anywhere to go. I just want somewhere to stay for a bit until we’ve decided what to do.’

‘Have you told him it’s over?’

Caroline looked away again and moved the cup in front of her face, as if trying to hide behind it. ‘Sort of.’

‘You have to say something; it’s not fair to him otherwise.’

‘I wrote him a letter and left. I said I was coming here and asked him to leave me for a few days.’

Jessica offered a thin smile. ‘I guess that’s better than a text message.’

Caroline laughed a little. ‘I feel like a right bitch.’

Jessica wanted to say something comforting but, after a short pause, the best she could manage was, ‘Come on; let’s find you some dry clothes.’

The rest of the evening was spent watching television and not saying much. Caroline clearly didn’t want to talk any further, while Jessica still had the case on her mind. She read through Toby Whittaker’s file a couple of times, looking to see if there was anything she might have missed. As she read, she could only come up with more questions about how Toby and Isaac could be connected and whether the anonymous driver was the person who had taken both boys. She hadn’t had a useable photograph to show to Harry, Kayla Hutchings or Daisy Peters. They would look back into Simon Hill and Ian Sturgess in the absence of any other leads, while also trying to identify the driver.

Managing the situation and not causing a panic was still the main priority but they were hoping someone who matched the driver’s description would be reported missing by a concerned relative who didn’t know what he was up to.

The two women shared Jessica’s double bed and Caroline was up early the following day to get to work. She worked for an advertising agency in the city centre and was determined to keep some semblance of a normal life. Jessica hugged her as her friend left in the morning, before giving Toby Whittaker’s file one last read.

Cole and Reynolds were going to see the start of the dig for a body at the site where they had found the clothes. Even though they didn’t necessarily expect to find anything straight away, it was a significant symbolic act. Jessica was going to visit Toby’s mother, Lucy. Someone had already told her they believed they had found clothes belonging to her son but, with the case on the brink of being reopened, someone had to formally speak to her – even if her memory was likely to be hazy fourteen years after the event.

Reynolds had organised things the previous evening and the plan was for Jessica to meet DS Louise Cornish at Lucy’s house that morning. The two sergeants shared an office and, after a rocky start to their relationship, just about got on. It wasn’t that they disliked each other; they just had nothing in common. While Jessica still lived day to day, Cornish was efficient and committed to her job, as well as being married with two children at school. The sergeant was currently involved with a case in which a string of burglaries seemed to be linked and would likely be given more involvement in the combined Hutchings and Whittaker case that so many officers were now being assigned to. Usually Jessica and Cornish would work separately but it was felt it would look better if two detectives more senior than constables visited Toby’s mother, given the time that had passed.

Jessica drove to the estate where Lucy lived and saw Cornish’s car parked around a hundred metres away from the house. She pulled in behind her colleague and saw the other sergeant getting out of her vehicle. Cornish was approaching fifty and had short dark hair which she swept away from her face. Despite being in her thirties and having equal rank, Jessica saw Louise as a grown-up compared to herself. The other woman was as smartly dressed as usual, with a crisp blouse and trouser suit. She greeted Jessica with a formal, ‘Are you ready?’ before leading the way towards Lucy’s house.

The estate was a complete contrast to the areas where Daisy Peters and Kayla Hutchings lived. While those were filled with identically well-kept houses, Lucy lived in a place in which council houses alternated with housing association properties and a mixture of the two that had been sold off. It was a combination of bungalows, flats and semi-detached houses in various states of repair. Some buildings looked well-maintained but others had overgrown gardens and one house they passed was boarded up and covered with graffiti. In the distance Jessica could see two boys who should probably be at school playing football in the road. The two sergeants exchanged a knowing look as they approached the front door and DS Cornish rang the doorbell.

After a few moments a man answered. He was tall and well-built, large shoulders filling a rugby shirt. He introduced himself as Neil Martin and invited them into a cluttered hallway, apologising for the mess. Jessica noticed sets of children’s shoes thrown to one side. There were also school photographs, which seemed recent, of two girls who were maybe five or six years old hanging in the living room. He offered them the sofa and said Lucy wouldn’t be long before disappearing to make them a cup of tea. The two detectives were alone but Jessica couldn’t think of anything to say. She scanned the walls, which were relatively clear aside from the photos.

She couldn’t see anything of Toby.

Neither officer broke the uncomfortable silence before a woman walked into the room. She was thin with long black hair that was still wet and wearing tight jeans with a baggy jumper. Jessica and Cornish both stood but the woman Jessica assumed was Lucy waved her arm, then sat in an armchair opposite them. She didn’t say anything but glared at the two officers and Jessica felt bound to start the conversation. ‘Lucy Whittaker?’

‘Not Whittaker, it’s Martin now, I got remarried six months ago.’

That change wasn’t in the information Jessica had but should have been checked by someone. Lucy sounded annoyed but Jessica didn’t think it was because she had called her by the wrong name.

‘Sorry,’ Jessica said. ‘I know someone spoke to you yesterday about what we found.’

‘Toby’s clothes?’

‘Yes.’

‘It took you long enough. I’ve been waiting for you to find him for fourteen years.’

Jessica knew she had to be careful about how she chose her words. ‘Because of everything that’s happened, we wanted to run through a couple of details with you,’ she said.

The woman shrugged, shaking her head slightly. ‘Is there anything you expect me to know now that I didn’t then?’

Before anyone could respond, Neil returned with four mugs of tea on a tray. Jessica thought her consumption of hot liquids was beginning to hit ridiculous levels. Prior to becoming a detective, she didn’t drink anything during the day other than water or lemonade. Now, if she was placed on a drip feeding Earl Grey directly into her system, it would probably provide only slightly more tea than she ended up drinking anyway.

After handing out the mugs, Neil sat on the armrest next to his wife, resting a hand on her shoulder. Jessica glanced at the pictures of the school girls on the wall and wondered if they were Neil’s or Lucy’s from a previous relationship – or if the couple were in a long-term relationship but had only recently got married. Lucy didn’t seem to be in a receptive enough mood to ask and Jessica was feeling under-prepared as Toby’s mother continued to eye her suspiciously.

The two detectives ran through some of the basic details they already knew. Lucy and her former partner Dean moved from one side of the city to the other around a year after Toby disappeared. That created problems for their daughter Annabel, because she had to leave her friends. Lucy told them Annabel now lived and worked in London with her boyfriend and had minimal contact with them. Lucy’s own relationship with Dean had broken down and they had gone their separate ways within three years of Toby disappearing.

Because of Lucy’s hostility it took the two sergeants quite a while to get to the specifics. Cornish eventually established the two girls on the wall were called Olivia, who was six, and Natasha, who was a year younger. Neil and Lucy were natural parents to both of them and it sounded as if they had been in a relationship over some years.

Neil was still sitting on the armrest of his wife’s chair, stroking her hair. Perhaps it was his presence but Lucy slowly began to open up. It was clear her memories from fourteen years ago were still vivid.

‘Can you tell me about the football shirt Toby was wearing?’ Jessica asked.

Lucy took a deep breath. ‘His dad was a big City supporter. They used to go to games together. I would have to stop him wearing it when it was dirty because he’d keep it on all the time otherwise.’

‘What about the area where he went missing? Did he play there often?’

‘I guess. He used to pick up his football then go out with his friends. He’d usually be back by the time it got dark but . . .’ Lucy didn’t finish her sentence and Jessica didn’t push it.

Neither Neil nor Lucy recognised Daisy Peters, although it was definitely a long shot that they would have done.

After forty minutes, Lucy stood. ‘I’m going upstairs for a lie-down,’ she said.

The two detectives had asked more or less everything they needed and the woman seemed sleepy. At some point she would likely be asked to look at the clothes to confirm they were from her son – although there were no real doubts they belonged to Toby because the football shirt sponsor, style and size matched what had been reported at the time and it was more a formality than anything.

Neil escorted his wife out of the room, then returned and sat fully in the seat himself. ‘Don’t worry about her; it’s always hard at this time of year.’

Jessica nodded. ‘I guess it would be coming up to Christmas and all.’

‘It’s not just that. It was the first week of December when Toby went missing. It always brings it back, especially when it gets dark so early.’

Jessica paused for a moment. She had read the file through at least three times and the significance of the date of Toby’s and now Isaac’s disappearance had somehow passed her by. It was likely because the file was in such a jumbled mess but, now she thought about it, they would have gone missing on more or less the same date fourteen years apart. Neil didn’t seem to notice Jessica’s confusion and continued talking in a quieter voice. ‘It’s actually one of her good days today.’

‘How do you mean?’ Cornish asked.

Neil lowered his voice further, leaning forward. ‘She drinks quite a bit. I’ve got used to it now we’ve been together for a few years. We used to have arguments about it but I kind of let it go now. I try to shield Olivia and Tasha from it.’

‘What happened to Toby’s father?’ Jessica asked.

‘Dean? He’s living somewhere in Wales, just outside of Cardiff, I think.’

‘Did he get remarried?’

‘No but he does have a girlfriend and kids. He’s a decent guy actually. I’ve met him a few times. I think that losing Toby pushed them apart and there was no going back. I guess it worked out all right for me.’ Neil must have realised how this could be interpreted because he quickly corrected himself. ‘Sorry, I don’t mean I’m glad he was taken or anything like that . . .’ He reached across to pick up the empty mugs. ‘Can I get anything else for you?’

It was clearly a cue for them to leave.

Jessica and Cornish stood up together. ‘No, but I’ll leave you my card,’ Jessica said. ‘If anything comes up, just call me.’

Neil lowered his voice until it was almost a whisper. ‘Do you think you’ll find a body?’

Jessica looked into his eyes but couldn’t figure out why he was asking. He had no way of knowing they were digging in the woods. She chose her words carefully. ‘I’m not sure.’

Neil nodded. ‘After all these years it would be nice for Lucy to get some closure.’