Dead Lucky (31 page)

Lambert ignored the woman’s indignation. He remembered the last time he’d visited her at the hospital, the conversation which had sent her into a relapse. ‘Why do you think Elaine killed herself, Laura?’

Dempsey turned away, arms folded. Hughes glared at him but he wasn’t about to stop now.

‘We know some of the girls were being used, Laura,’ he said, noting Laura squirm as he said the words. ‘Was Elaine being used, Laura? Did you know about it, Laura? Is that why you’re feeling guilty?’

‘What was I supposed to do?’ Laura screamed the words with an uncontrolled rage. ‘I was so young. The girls were coming to me with their injuries. They told me what they were being made to do and I reported it. I tried to help them. I thought it had stopped.’

‘Who did you report it to?’

‘The warders, the owners of the home.’

‘The police?’

Laura shook her head. ‘But the police came.’ She began crying and Dr Hughes moved to stop the interview, but Lambert held up his hand. ‘Who was Elaine friends with, Laura?’

Laura shook her head, still crying.

‘Please tell me who she was friends with, Laura. Any name might help.’

He let her cry for a time. She was assuaging her guilt over Elaine’s death, and the deaths of her children and husband. ‘There was a boy,’ she said. ‘He doted on her, never left her side even though he was much younger. A good three or four years. He knew what was happening.’ She began crying again, the sobs short and resigned. ‘I’m so sorry. He told me what was happening to Elaine. Said there was a man giving the girls gifts and taking them out. He told me he followed her one evening and saw her getting into a stranger’s car. It’s all my fault, you see. I do understand that. I should have done something about it, but I was too young and naïve.’

Lambert pitied her but what she said didn’t excuse her lack of action. She had now paid an awful price. ‘What was the boy’s name, Laura?’

Dempsey wiped the tears away, her eyes two red circles on a deathly pale face. ‘Neil Barnes.’

‘Okay, that’s enough for now, Michael,’ said Hughes, moving to Dempsey’s side.

Lambert nodded, his interest was already diverted to Neil Barnes. He stopped as he reached the door. ‘What was Neil like, Laura?’

‘He was a sweet boy, doted on Elaine. Almost to the point of obsession, he was very intense.’

‘Did he have a temper?’

‘Not that I remember. He was more desperate to protect her.’

‘What happened to him after she died?’

‘He was devastated, naturally. I don’t think I ever got the chance to speak to him properly. I left a few weeks later.’

‘Okay, thank you Laura.’

‘You think Elaine was murdered, don’t you?’

The woman had suffered terribly, but Lambert felt torn about her lack of action at the home. Like him, she now wanted answers. He wanted answers to find the killer, and it felt like she wanted answers to alleviate her guilt.

‘Thanks again,’ he said, leaving the room.

Chapter 50

Lambert called as she was leaving Melissa’s. ‘One minute,’ she said to the woman. ‘Sir?’

‘You still with Melissa Brady?’

‘Just leaving now.’

‘Did she remember the incident?’

‘Sort of.’

‘Ask her if she knew a boy called Neil Barnes. Apparently he was friends with Elaine Jacobson.’

Matilda remembered the name. She’d processed the boy’s file yesterday. She hung up and asked Melissa the question. The woman had not welcomed her return. She’d rushed into the flat as before, embarrassed, or scared, to be speaking to someone from the police. She’d been less forthcoming than last night. She remembered Elaine’s apparent suicide but refused to elaborate.

‘I remember him. He was younger, used to follow Elaine about.’

‘Anything you can tell me about him?’

‘Nothing more than that. He changed a bit after her death. Became a bit quiet. I think she was his only real friend. She was nice to him’

‘You’ve got my number if you remember anything more?’

Melissa nodded and shut the door.

She had the feeling again that she was being followed, as she made her way back to Plaistow station. Knowing the Watcher was out there, she was suspicious of everyone, glancing at her phone as if taunting it to ring. Waiting on the tube stop for the District line into town, she called Lambert back and told him what Melissa had said.

Lambert updated her on his meeting with Laura Dempsey. ‘Finding Neil Barnes is our priority now, though we’ve run into a bit of a dead end with him.’

‘How so?’

‘No record of him since he left the home. We’re trying some additional searches now.’

‘Okay, I’ll be back soon.’ A man followed her onto the tube and sat in the seat next to her despite the carriage being close to empty. He was overweight, breathing heavily through his open mouth. Matilda sighed and moved into an empty seat halfway down the carriage. The man seemed oblivious, his attention focused solely on his iPhone. When he left the train at Stepney Green, she took a deep breath and relaxed. She was over-thinking things, panicking when there was no need.

The team were waiting back at the station. A picture of Neil Barnes placed in the middle of the whiteboard. The grainy image showed a young boy, no older than ten. It was one of the few images they’d uncovered where a child was smiling.

Lambert beckoned her over. ‘Haven’t found him yet. Still waiting on a couple of searches to come back. Everyone you speak to from now on has to be questioned in relation to Neil Barnes.’

She returned to her desk and noticed an email waiting for her from Glenn Tillman. It was not like him to contact her during work hours. She glanced around, making sure no one was watching, and opened the message. It was short and to the point. ‘My office as soon as you get this.’ She stood, the rest of the team busying away at laptops and work stations. She couldn’t help but glance over at Lambert, somehow feeling guilty for speaking to Tillman without his permission. It was ludicrous considering she’d spent last night in Tillman’s bed.

His office door was shut, voices from within. She knocked once and waited. She’d been on edge ever since the call from the Watcher. It had made her distrustful of everyone. As Lambert had suggested, that was probably the point. But she still couldn’t get out of her mind the fact that he’d questioned Lambert about her father.

Tillman’s office door opened, Tillman standing to attention as four of the Met’s senior officers walked out, including, to her astonishment, the Chief Constable. None of the officers acknowledged her presence. They walked by, stone-faced, and Matilda couldn’t help wondering what they had wanted with Tillman.

She poked her head around the door. ‘You wanted to see me, sir?’ she said.

Tillman had retreated to his desk, his natural air of authority undiminished by the senior officers.

‘Shut the door,’ he said.

Matilda looked down the corridor as she shut the door, again overcome by guilt for something which on the surface was innocuous.

‘There’ve been some developments,’ said Tillman.

Matilda had always been impressed by the way Tillman could separate their personal and private lives. At the office, it was as if they’d never spent any time alone together. Every encounter was purely about work. So much so that at the moment she had to remind herself she’d spent yesterday evening at the man’s flat. ‘I’m going to speak to Lambert after you so there are no secrets here. I may need you to do some undercover work tomorrow evening. I wanted to know how you feel about that before we went ahead.’

‘This is in relation to the Watcher case?’ said Matilda.

‘Partly,’ said Tillman. ‘You’ll get a full brief once I’ve spoken to Lambert. We need someone on the inside at Blake’s party. You haven’t accompanied Lambert on any of his visits to Blake’s house?’

‘No.’

‘So there’s no reason he should know your identity?’

‘I suppose not. Why do I need to be there? How are you going to get me in?’

Tillman’s upper lip curled upward. It was not the most becoming of looks. ‘Have you ever done any waitressing?’ he asked, deadpan.

‘Not really.’

‘It’s not silver service or anything. Just drinks, canapés, that sort of stuff.’

Matilda shrugged. ‘Canapés?’ She couldn’t see what could be gained from being on the inside at Blake’s party. The man was a professional criminal and was unlikely to give away any details of his work during such an occasion.

‘You called me in just to tell me this,’ she said.

‘Partly. I know you probably don’t want to answer this but how have you found Lambert’s handling of the case?’

‘We talked about this, Glenn. I was uncomfortable at the beginning and I’m more uncomfortable now reporting on my senior officer.’

‘Okay, okay, I understand. Believe it or not I’m acting in an official capacity now. I need to know if there is anything untoward you’ve seen in his actions or behaviour.’

Matilda thought back to a few nights ago when Tillman had punched a fellow officer in the face and, although she’d appreciated it at the time, it was ironic that Tillman would ask this question about Lambert.

‘He’s getting a job done and doing it in a professional manner,’ she said.

‘Okay, that’s all for now.’ Tillman pointed to the door.

Matilda rose and left, leaving the door open.

Chapter 51

Lambert had noticed Kennedy leave the open-plan office. He had to trust her now. She knew the Watcher had called him and they’d both agreed not to disclose the information. Still, she had glanced around to see who was watching, as she made her way to Tillman’s office.

On his computer screen pictures of Elaine Jacobson played before him on a slideshow. Twenty-seven pictures of the girl existed. Twenty-four of which were photographs of her corpse. Lambert sat unblinking as his screen moved from the semi-smiling teenage girl of the official photograph to two photographs taken of her within the home where she’d been off guard, not knowing she’d been photographed. In one she was sitting alone reading a book. In the other she was sitting with a group of girls, knees up to her chest, captured in a moment of carefree joy, the illusion of which was destroyed by the fourth photo. Her pale white body crouched in the corner of the white tiled bathroom, a puddle of black liquid surrounding her. Then the close ups: the jagged lines on each wrist, her thin pale arms, the hideous vacancy to her eyes. Her body at the autopsy, the blood cleaned from her wrists, the incisions photographed close up. Lambert shook his head and turned off the slideshow. It was too close to home for him. Seeing the wasted promise of a teenage girl could only make him think about Chloe and how her potential had been cruelly taken away.

He switched on the next file, which contained only the one photo of the ten-year-old boy, Neil Barnes, who was so far proving impossible to track.

Lambert stared at the image. He was still undecided as to whether Elaine Jacobson had committed suicide or if she was the first victim of the Watcher. He found it hard to believe that the ten-year-old boy in front of him could have been responsible for the girl’s death, but he kept returning to the image.

They needed to find him. Both Laura Dempsey and Melissa Brady had said he was a close friend of Elaine Jacobson. The priority for now was trying to track Barnes and find out as much about Elaine Jacobson as possible. The boy might remember Blake.

Kennedy returned to her desk. She looked sheepish and he couldn’t help but wonder what secrets she’d been discussing with Tillman. He was about to summon her to his office when Tillman called through on the internal line.

‘My office in ten,’ said Tillman. ‘We have company. Make sure your notes about this damn Watcher case are up to date, as you’ll have some questions to answer.’

Tillman hung up before Lambert had a chance to argue. He was confident enough in his work not to go through his notes. Ten minutes later he was outside Tillman’s office, surprised to see Tillman loitering in the hallway waiting for him outside the office door.

‘What’s this about, Glenn?’

‘You’ll find out soon enough,’ said Tillman, lowering his voice. ‘Listen, Michael, just keep things sensible when we’re in here. You’re going to be quizzed over Curtis Blake and your investigation into him. If I had my way this wouldn’t be happening. It’s not a reprimand but there’s been an incident.’

‘Who’s in there?’ said Lambert, pointing his head towards the door.

‘The Chief Constable, Harrogate and Harrogate’s boss Chief Superintendent Tyler.’

‘Jesus,’ said Lambert. ‘What am I supposed to have done?’

‘Well, when you saw Blake yesterday, you spotted one of our undercover agents.’

‘Actually he spotted me’ said Lambert, ‘I mentioned it to Harrogate.’

‘His name’s DS Sawyer and he’s gone missing.’

No one stood as he entered Tillman’s office. Tillman made the introductions, starting with the Chief Constable William Mooney, who barely acknowledged his presence.

‘Sit down, Michael,’ said Tillman.

Lambert sat, arms folded.

‘I’ve updated DCI Lambert on the disappearance of DS Sawyer. As I mentioned to you outside Michael, this is just an informal gathering.’

‘Doesn’t look very informal.’

Harrogate’s Chief Super, Tyler, spoke for the first time since Lambert had entered the office. Like the Chief Constable he was dressed in full regalia. His shirt and suit jacket looked a little too snug on his body, as if he’d recently put on weight.

‘DS Harrogate informs me you were the last person to see DS Sawyer?’

‘I saw him but I was hardly the last person to see him. I had no idea he was an undercover officer. I did have my suspicions and I raised them with Harrogate.’

‘Tell me exactly what happened,’ said Tyler.

‘I’d just arrived at Curtis Blake’s house. I was being accompanied by his security team into the house when I made eye contact with the man I believe is Sawyer. We exchanged a look and he seemed a little panicky to see me.’

‘And what was he doing at the time?’ said Tyler.

‘About to get into an executive car, a BBW. In the back of which was Curtis Blake’s wife.’