Before It's Too Late (18 page)

Jackman had picked up Davies’ excited voicemail after he’d left Broom Hills and dropped Celia back home that morning. ‘A possible lead to the victim in the woods just above Clifford Chambers’. He’d tried to call her back, but when the line went to voicemail, he sped straight here. Keane updated him from the incident room as he drove: Davies had responded to a call this morning, a potential sighting of the white van near Clifford Chambers village. A search team had been called out to examine some disused water tanks in the nearby woods.

Jackman raised his badge to the uniformed officer guarding the gate to keep unwanted dog-walkers and nosey villagers away, and looked up at the wood as he climbed the uneven hill. Having walked Erik over these fields in the past, he knew this area well. Halfway up he paused and glanced around dubiously. A race track was situated behind the wood, a road beyond that. It was well-frequented by dog-walkers and children played up in the woods in the summer. To store a body here seemed a risky plan.

He was about to continue when he spotted Davies in the distance making her way down the hill. The gradient was such that her step quickened and she almost appeared to be running, out of breath by the time she reached him. “False alarm, sir,” she said.

Jackman looked past her to see Reilly emerge from the wood, mobile phone glued to his ear. “What’s he doing here?”

Davies rolled her eyes. “No idea. He arrived at about the same time as the search team.” She cut off as Reilly reached them.

“Ah, Jackman,” he said just as his shoe caught a rogue clod of earth that set him off-balance momentarily.

“You organise this?” Jackman lifted his head towards the direction of the wood.

“Yes,” Reilly said as he steadied his footing. “I was with Superintendent Janus when the call came through. Thought I’d lend a hand. One of the tanks had been disturbed recently, we needed cutting gear to get into it.”

Jackman gave a short nod. “Anything there?”

“It appears not.”

Jackman looked back up at the wood. “How did you get on with the restaurant?” he asked, changing the subject.

“In the Readman case?” Reilly shook his head. “So many people pass through there. My detectives have tracked down the staff who worked on the nights when the girls were meant to be there, but they don’t remember them specifically.”

“Mr Ward was really talkative until his son arrived,” Davies said. Her face was confounded, as if she had been working it through in her mind and hadn’t heard a word of their conversation. “He seemed quite insistent he’d seen a van, and mentioned the rust mark around the petrol cap too. Then his son arrived and he seemed to get side tracked. Went on about what a ladies’ man he was and how much he liked girls with dark hair.”

Davies prattled on, relaying her interview with Graeme Ward, but Jackman was no longer listening. The image of the water droplet symbol had crept back into his mind. He was turning the symbol over and over. Suddenly he felt a strange sense of foreboding as he remembered where he’d seen it before.

“That van down the road,” Jackman said. “The plumber’s van. Does that belong to Ward?”

Davies looked taken aback at the interruption, “Yes. Well, not Graeme Ward. It belongs to his son, Carl.”

“And his son’s a plumber?”

Annie nodded.

Jackman switched his gaze to Reilly. “I’ve seen the symbol on the side of that van before.”

“Where?”

“It was on a fridge magnet at the house Ellen Readman shared with her friend. I’m almost certain of it.”

“And Ellen Readman had dark hair,” Davies interjected.

Jackman faced her. “What?”

“Mr Ward said his son was a ladies’ man, likes girls with dark hair,” she repeated.

“Get some urgent background checks done on Carl Ward,” Jackman said. He turned to Reilly, “I think we need to have a word with Mr Ward junior.”

Reilly stepped back. His voice faltered as he spoke, “I’ll get the checks organised.”

Jackman gave him a hard stare. “Annie’s got it in hand. Come on!” He pulled on his arm, forcing him into a reluctant jog.

They raced down the hill leaving Davies behind. Jackman sped up as he reached the gate and headed for the village, leaving Reilly to stumble along behind. A couple of dog-walkers deep in conversation eyed him suspiciously as he passed them and headed up the main street.

Jackman’s mobile buzzed as he approached the plumber’s van, still parked on the main street of Clifford Chambers. ‘Davies’ flashed up on the screen. He paused to catch his breath and clicked to answer, “What have you got, Annie?”

“Plenty of intel, sir.” Her voice was puffed as if she was rushing. “Ward has previous – assaulting an ex-girlfriend in 2006 and in 2009 he was arrested for rape, which the complainant later dropped. Last year uniform were called to a domestic at his home in Stratford. His wife refused to press charges, but there’s still a ‘violent’ marker on his file.”

“Right, thanks.”

Jackman ended the call, slipped his phone into his pocket and rapped the front door of the cottage. Reilly had reached him now and was bent over holding his knees, gasping for breath.

The chain on the back of the door rattled as it opened. A tall man with dark eyes and a bald head appeared. He raised his eyebrows at Reilly who immediately hauled himself to a standing position.

Jackman held up his card and introduced them both. “Carl Ward?”

“What is this?” Ward said. “Your lot have already been here today. My father needs to rest.”

“I wondered if we could have a word with you this time, Mr Ward?” Jackman said.

“What about?”

“Could we come inside?”

Ward looked from one detective to another. He then stepped outside, closing the door behind him. “We can talk out here.”

Ward folded his arms across his chest as he vehemently denied any association with Ellen Readman. When given her address, he recalled being called out to mend the heating system at her housemate’s home earlier that year, but claimed that he had never actually met Ellen. His manner was calm, he spoke with ease. But there was something about him that made Jackman edgy. He looked back at the van. “Do you mind if we take a look inside?” he said.

Reilly shot him a warning glance and he knew why – he had no warrant and no grounds to search. In fact, all he did have was a tenuous link with the victim through work and Ward’s father’s line about his son liking girls with dark hair.

Carl Ward hesitated for the briefest of seconds. “I’ve nothing to hide.” He dug into his pocket, retrieved a bunch of keys and sorted through them. Jackman exchanged a look with Davies who had now joined them as he unlocked the back doors and flung them open.

The smell of bleach assaulted Jackman’s senses as he climbed inside. He felt Ward’s thick presence beside him as he stood and looked around. Apart from an array of tools that hung on a rack on the inside wall and a large toolbox in the corner, it was empty.

Jackman noticed Davies look from the scruffy stature of Carl Ward to the inside of the van and back. “Do you always keep it this clean?” she said.

He blinked contemptuously. “I like my work ordered.”

Jackman could feel Ward’s gaze on him as he scanned the area and was aware of Reilly staring in from outside. A sense of urgency filled the air. He was desperately searching for something but he had no idea what it was.

“Right.” Ward checked his mobile phone. “If you’re finished, I need to get back. I’ve got another quote to do this evening.”

With much reluctance, Jackman followed him to the door. He was about to climb out when he turned at the last minute, just as a flash of gold caught his eye. He moved back, approached the rear of the front seats and bent down. Something was wedged between the seats. He poked it. It felt like a tiny line of plastic. He leant in a little closer.

“Oi! That’s enough.”

Jackman ignored Ward’s call, pulled his torch out of his pocket and shone it on the area. A gold spot glinted back.

“I said that’s enough!” The sound was followed by a thud and suddenly Jackman felt a weight crash into him as the raw edge of Ward’s anger exploded. A fist was thrust into his gut, a hand gripped his neck, pressing hard on his vocal chords. As he fought to pull the hand away, he looked up to see a wrench moving toward his forehead. Jackman summoned all his energy, ducked back, the hand still around his throat, and kneed Ward in the groin.

The clatter of the wrench crashing to the floor of the van reverberated around the whole area. Jackman heard shouting and felt a force yanking Ward away. He recovered himself and looked up to see a couple of the search team had now joined them and secured Ward, helped by Davies.

He stood and rubbed his neck as Ward was dragged out the back of the van. “Get out of there!” Ward cried. “You’ve got no right.”

Jackman stared at him, moved forward and jumped down onto the pavement. “I’ll see you at the station.”

Curtains twitched, windows were flung back and doors opened as the commotion quickly attracted the interest of local residents. Within seconds, it seemed a crowd had gathered near the van, heads at the back craning their necks for a better view.

It wasn’t until several officers had wrestled Ward into handcuffs, Davies had officially arrested him and they’d pushed him into the back of the car that Jackman returned to the van, donned his gloves and managed to retrieve the thin piece of plastic from between the seats. He smiled inwardly as he peered down at the SD memory card.

Jackman heard the door click closed behind him as he entered the interview room. The eyes of Carl Ward, his solicitor and even Keane who was poised over his notes, were on him as he pulled out a chair, placed the pink envelope file tucked underneath his arm carefully on the table and re-started the tape.

Reilly had initially wanted to postpone the interview until his own team arrived from Leamington. But Jackman didn’t want any more delays that might cost another life. If there was any possibility that Ward might be linked to Min’s disappearance, that he might be able to reveal something about her whereabouts, he needed to start now. And when the chief constable phoned Reilly direct for an update, he’d reluctantly agreed.

The first hour had, as Jackman expected, gone in Ward’s favour. Ward had recovered his composure, claimed to be a happily married man, refuted any idea that he knew or had even met Ellen Readman, Katie Sharp or Min Li. He even hinted at being singled out by a desperate police force who had been guided by the words of a senile old man in their desperation to make an arrest.

Jackman folded his hands together on the table and said, “Earlier you told me that you have no knowledge of either Ellen Readman, Katie Sharp or Min Li.” He unfolded his hands and allowed them to rest on the file in front of him.

Ward’s solicitor, who had barely spoken a word throughout the interview immediately sat forward. “What is this?”

Jackman ignored her and drew two sheets of paper out of the file. He kept his eyes on Ward as he turned over the first, a selfie picture of Ellen Readman and Carl Ward, cheeks pressed together, beaming back at the camera. They looked like they were sitting in the back of Ward’s van. He turned over the second, a bare shot of Ellen.

“For the purposes of the tape, the woman in the photos matches the appearance of Ellen Readman,” Jackman said. “Mr Ward, how do you account for these images that were retrieved from the SD memory card found in your van?”

“That’s not Ellen,” Ward said. “Her name is Emma. Well that’s what she told me.”

“I need some time with…”

Ward held up a hand to silence his solicitor. “It’s okay.” He looked down briefly before he spoke again, “Look, I’m a married man. We did have a brief fling, for a few weeks, but it was over months ago. I haven’t seen her in ages. And I definitely don’t know any of the other girls.”

“Are you sure?”

Ward sat tall, nodded.

Jackman sat back in his chair and gave Ward a moment. “Are you absolutely sure?”

Ward glanced at the file and then back at Jackman and said nothing.

Jackman pulled a police exhibit bag out of the file. A mobile phone sat at an angle inside. “Is this your phone, Mr Ward?”

Ward peered closer, nodded.

“Would you explain to me why the call records show calls and texts from this number to the phone of Ellen Readman, the last being on the day that she disappeared?”

Ward jerked forward. “It’s not true. Her number’s not in there.”

“No, because you deleted it from the handset. But you can’t delete it from the billing records.”

His solicitor immediately stood. “I want some time with my client. Now.”

A knock at the door made Jackman turn. He was beckoned out into the corridor by Russell. Her face was red, as if she’d been rushing.

“What is it?” Jackman asked. He closed the door behind him.

“Ward has an alibi for Min’s disappearance. We’ve spoken to his wife. They were in London for the weekend, didn’t get back until Tuesday morning. We checked with the hotel and they confirmed the booking. The receptionist remembered him, apparently he was very suggestive.”

At that moment the door at the end of the corridor swung open and Reilly appeared, mobile phone stuck to his ear. His face shone like a kid at Christmas. “Okay, no problem. I’ll let you know as soon as it happens.”