Dead Lucky (24 page)

‘Half an hour at most,’ said Kennedy.

‘Okay. Half an hour, Eileen,’ he said to his wife and sat at the table.

‘Thanks for taking the time to see us,’ said Lambert.

Lindsay nodded. He carried an air of authority about him which was less to do with age, and more to do with his personality, which Lambert imagined had been shaped by his time on the force. ‘You’re working on this Watcher case?’

‘Yes.’

‘And you want to speak to me about Lennox.’

‘Yes, Mr Lindsay, but this is very confidential at the moment. You know how Lennox died?’

‘Not until DS Kennedy here called me. I didn’t even know he was dead. You think it was this Watcher fella?’

‘Possibly.’

Lambert saw a flicker in Lindsay’s eyes, a sense of excitement. ‘So what do you need from me?’

Kennedy opened her iPad. ‘As you’ve probably read, there have been six victims so far, seven if you count Lennox. You okay seeing these?’

Lindsay frowned and took the iPad from her.

‘The first victim was Moira Sackville, wife of Eustace Sackville. Then Laura Dempsey’s husband and two children, and finally Dempsey’s parents, Mr and Mrs Patchett.’

Lindsay scrolled through the images, with a look of morbid fascination. ‘Sackville and Dempsey were made to watch?’

Lambert nodded. ‘Laura Dempsey watched her husband and children die, but not her parents.’

‘Small mercies, eh?’

‘Does this mean anything to you?’

Lindsay placed the iPad on the counter. ‘No, should it?’

‘You never saw anything in your time with Lennox like this?’

Lindsay squinted his eyes. ‘I’ve seen worse things than this, unfortunately, but I don’t recall such an MO. I know Eustace Sackville, at least I knew him up to twenty or so years ago. He was an over-eager young journalist when I was working with Lennox.’

‘Did you have much dealing with him?’

‘Not really. He was a bit of a loud mouth, from what I remember. Lennox hated him. Then again, we hated most journos.’

‘Ever seen Laura Dempsey before?’ asked Kennedy, finding a more recent shot of Laura on the iPad.

Lindsay shook his head slowly. ‘It’s possible, but you know how it is. I met thousands of people.’

Kennedy showed him a picture of a much younger-looking Laura Dempsey. ‘Maiden name was Patchett.’

Lindsay shook his head again. ‘Sorry.’

‘What can you tell us about Lennox? Would you know why anyone would want to harm him this way?’

‘Yes, I’m afraid I do. He wasn’t the nicest of men. He abused his power, and I regret to say I was implicit in that as I often turned a blind eye. I wasn’t one of the boys, you see. They used to tolerate me, but I never joined in their little games.’

‘Games?’

Lindsay stared hard at Lambert. ‘You know what I’m talking about. How long have you been in, twenty years? I imagine it wasn’t so bad then, but you’d have heard what went on before. A crooked cop could sometimes get away with a lot.’

‘Such as?’ asked Lambert.

‘Everything.’

‘So Lennox was involved in criminal activity?’

‘I’m not going on record about anything, whether that man’s dead or not. Life’s too short. It is now, and it was then. That’s why I got out. I couldn’t see the line any more.’

‘You ever hear from Lennox after you left?’

Lindsay lifted his chin, a sign of defiance. ‘I saw him. He used to pop by now and again, to check up on me. He wanted to see if I would talk, but I’d moved on. I’d met Eileen and we had children. I wasn’t about to jeopardise that.’

‘When did you last see him?’

‘Long time ago. Probably twenty years. I was only a potential threat for a year or so.’

‘One last thing. Did you ever come across a man called Curtis Blake?’

Kennedy handed him the file picture of Blake.

Lindsay shook his head. ‘I’m sorry. I hate to say it, but I’m an old man now. I never thought I’d say that. My memory isn’t what it was.’

‘Okay, Mr Lindsay. Thanks for taking the time to see me.’

They all stood and shook hands. ‘Look, if it will help, I’ll check through some of my old notebooks. I kept most of them, not sure why. Wife calls me a hoarder. I’ll have a check, see if I can spot any of those names.’

Eileen was waiting outside. Lambert noticed the concerned look on her face, as Lindsay left the coffee shop. Lindsay grabbed her cheek, and she smiled. He took her hand and they moved into the growing number of tourists.

The Watcher called as Lambert drove to the hospital. Kennedy had taken her own car so he was alone when he answered the call. It was absurd but it was a relief to hear the man’s voice again. He took a bitter comfort in the knowledge that the man was still out there, even if he had no idea where that was.

‘You’ve been busy,’ said the Watcher.

‘Busy job,’ said Lambert.

‘You’re starting to put things together. It took you some time, but congratulations.’

Lambert had two options. He could ignore everything the man said, or play along with him. He chose the latter. ‘You mean Lennox?’

The Watcher took a deep breath. ‘Lennox. Lovely man. He didn’t change, right up to the end. It was a pleasure watching him die.’

It was the first time the man had directly confessed to a crime. ‘What did he do to you?’

The Watcher made a sound, an imitation of a laugh. ‘I’m not going to do your job for you, Lambert. You’ll be pleased to know that I don’t tar everyone with the same brush. I appreciate the fact that you haven’t disclosed our conversations.’

‘Give me something to go on then.’

‘I’ve already rewarded you for your honesty, Lambert.’

‘Really.’

He laughed again, the same hollow sound. ‘How’s Sarah May, Matilda Kennedy and her daddy? Safe? How’s your wife, Michael? She’s still your wife, isn’t she? How’s the little baby?’

Each question was like a punch to the stomach. Heat spread through Lambert’s body. How could he possibly know all these details about Lambert’s life? It would surely take the surveillance skills of more than one person to keep such a record. Lambert thought about the Souljacker case, and the team the killer had helping him for a number of years. Was it possible the Watcher had a team working for him as well?

‘You’ve gone silent, Lambert.’

‘Just thinking.’

‘Penny for them.’

So many things swarmed through Lambert’s head that even if he wanted, he wouldn’t be able to share his thoughts. He tried one last approach. It was desperate, but at the moment there was nothing else to do. ‘Tell me the story. Tell me what happened, why you are doing this. Let’s end it here. You said you trust me. Let me honour that trust.’

The killer paused before replying, as if reading from a script. ‘Some things can’t be undone, Lambert. Best stay out of it. Oh, and Lambert. Next time you need a locksmith, let me know. I know a great guy.’

Chapter 35

Lambert called Devlin from the hospital and told him to place a patrol car outside Sophie’s house. ‘If she leaves, tell them to follow her.’

He heard the hesitation from Devlin. He had to give a reason to assign such manpower, but he wasn’t about to tell Devlin anything. Lambert knew he should get Tillman’s approval, but he wasn’t about to tell his young DC that. ‘You have my authorisation on this, Devlin. Get on with it.’

‘Sir.’

Lambert regretted the outburst but the conversation with the Watcher had thrown him. Lambert felt vulnerable and there was nothing he could do about it for the time being. The threat was implicit. He didn’t want to share details of their conversations. He could put Sophie in protective custody, but he couldn’t put everyone he knew in, and taking Sophie out of the equation would just divert the killer onto someone else. He would keep them under surveillance for now.

He met Kennedy in the ward. ‘DCI Lambert, DS Kennedy,’ said Dr Hughes, welcoming them outside Laura Dempsey’s room, the lilt of her accent making it difficult to decipher if the warmness was genuine. ‘Mrs Dempsey has been receiving psychological care. She is still in a very fragile state. I agreed to this, but if it is not completely necessary then I would ask that you postpone.’

‘We’ll be in and out as quick as possible. The killer is still at large, and Mrs Dempsey could be the closest thing we have to identifying him,’ said Lambert.

Laura Dempsey was sitting up in her bed. Lambert was surprised to see her reading a book. He hadn’t been able to concentrate on anything for longer than a couple of minutes following Chloe’s death. It had been months before he’d picked up a book. He’d spent hours in front of the television, the words and pictures little more than white noise. It was heartening to see that Laura could escape, even for a small time, into another world.

Dempsey shut the book. She looked better than the last time they’d seen her, a hint of colour in her skin, her eyes fresh, almost welcoming.

Kennedy moved to the side of the bed. ‘Sorry to disturb you again, Laura. We just wanted to ask you some questions.’ Kennedy sounded compassionate and genuine. Lambert was not sure if he would have come across as so empathetic.

‘Ask away,’ said Dempsey.

Kennedy showed her a picture of DI Lennox on her iPad. ‘Do you recognise this man?’

Dempsey took the iPad. ‘Should I? This picture is years old,’ she said, but her eyes didn’t leave the screen. ‘Is he dead?’ she asked, finally taking her eyes away from the image.

Kennedy nodded.

‘The same way?’ said Dempsey, choking back tears.

‘Do you recognise him?’

Dempsey began to cry. She wiped the tears away, in short angry movements. ‘Sorry,’ she said, as if she had anything to apologise for. ‘I think I do remember him. You know how some things stick in your mind. His eyes are different colours, see?’

Lambert hadn’t noticed the difference of colour in the man’s eyes. One eye was brown, the other hazel.

‘He was a police officer?’ said Dempsey.

Kennedy looked at Lambert, her eyes full of optimism.

‘That’s correct,’ said Lambert. He didn’t want to ask any questions of her just yet. He wanted the account to be her own recollection, unburdened by leading questions.

‘I don’t know his name. He came to the care home where I had my first job. I saw him twice, maybe three times.’ Dempsey looked up at Kennedy as if for support. Kennedy smiled and nodded.

Lambert could have screamed at her. Dempsey was taking her time with the revelation, like a master storyteller.

The colour in Dempsey’s skin changed as she recalled what had happened. Dr Hughes had noticed it, and inched closer to the bed. Dempsey scratched her neck. ‘He was investigating some trouble at the home. There were some accusations. He looked into them, but nothing ever came of it.’

Hughes edged nearer to her patient. ‘What were the accusations, Laura?’ asked Lambert.

Dempsey shook her head. ‘I…’she hesitated, and out of nowhere vomited onto her bed.

‘That’s all for now,’ said Hughes, ushering them out and calling for a nurse.

As Lambert retreated out of the room, he saw Laura looking at the puddle of vomit on her bedsheets in total confusion, as if she’d just exorcised some alien life form from within her.

Chapter 36

Lambert summoned everyone to the incident room as they drove back from the hospital. He needed to make everything clear in his mind. Laura’s revelation was the first direct link between the surviving victims. She’d met Lennox before. That was enough for Lambert.

Despite that, he had to keep an open mind. Too much was on the periphery, not fully accounted for. No one could be eliminated at this point, and he had to ensure that the case didn’t only follow his intended route.

The incident room was alive with anticipation when they returned. Devlin bounded over to him. ‘I’ve details on the children’s home where Laura Dempsey worked. It was called St Matthew’s in Dalston. It’s a retirement home now. We have teams looking into all former members of staff, and we’re trying to locate the names of the children who used to live there. The council are struggling to locate any files from the time it was a children’s home.’

Lambert took the file. He was impressed with the initiative and quick result. He rewarded Devlin with a slight nod of the head.

The room quietened as Lambert moved to the centre of the office. ‘As you’re aware, we have a direct connection between three of the parties involved in the case.’ On the murder board, he drew a link between Laura Dempsey and the former police officer Neil Lennox. He drew a second line between Lennox and Sackville. ‘All our focus is now on exploring these links, and extending it out. Devlin, where are we on Eustace Sackville’s notes?’

Devlin stood, a growing confidence in his stature. ‘We’re going through his reports from the time period where Laura Dempsey was working at the home. Naturally, we’ve searched through his files for hits on Dempsey, Blake, Robinson, Whitfield etc… and now Lennox and the children’s home. The name Lennox appears a few times, but just as lead detective on cases Sackville was reporting.’

‘Work through each of those cases in detail. We met with one of Lennox’s former colleagues, DS Lindsay, this morning. Add him to the mix as well.’

‘Sir.’

Lambert continued assigning duties. Walker was in attendance, the bruise on his eye still ripe. ‘Walker, do some more research on Robinson and Whitfield. Whitfield in particular. I know he’s incapacitated at the moment, but I don’t want to rule out his involvement just yet.’

The disappointment on Walker’s face was palpable. He obviously knew he was being side-lined, and for the time being that was exactly where Lambert wanted him. Lambert sneaked a look at Kennedy whose face remained impassive.

She approached him after he’d wrapped up the meeting. ‘Are we going to the home?’

‘St Matthew’s? It’s a retirement home now,’ said Lambert.

‘Devlin is struggling to find any details from the council.’

‘Okay, I’ll make an appointment for after lunch. I have a few things to do.’

Back in his office, Lambert began reading the files he’d downloaded on Kennedy’s father. He focused on the period where Laura Dempsey was working in the children’s home. Not sure as to what he was looking for, Lambert searched for mentions of Lennox, Sackville, Dempsey, Robinson, and the care home.