The woman that stood in front of them had grimy unwashed brown hair tied back into a ponytail which was secured with a ludicrously big flowery pink tie that certainly didn’t suit the rest of her appearance. She was wearing a peach-coloured dressing gown with matching slippers and holding a smouldering cigarette in her left hand, while she kept the right one poised on the door.
‘Who the fuck are you?’ the woman said to Jessica, looking her up and down, before noticing the officer in uniform. ‘Oh for...’ she continued.
Jessica just talked over her. ‘Nice to meet you too.’ She pulled out her police badge. ‘Is Wayne in? We’d just like to have a little chat with him.’
‘Don’t you pigs ever just leave him alone? What do you want this time?’
‘Is he in? I mean he does live here, doesn’t he?’
‘He’s not here.’
‘Are you sure? We could just come in to have a look around...’ Jessica went to put a hand on the front door but the woman pushed it back slightly against her.
‘If you’ve not got a warrant, you ain’t coming through. He’s not here. Now piss off.’ The woman went to close the door but Jessica stopped her.
‘If he’s not here, then where is he?’
‘I don’t know. The pub? The snooker? I don’t know where he gets to.’
‘
Which
pub?’
‘Don’t take that fuckin’ tone with me,’ the woman started but Jessica was losing patience. She pushed the door fully open and squared up to the woman standing in the doorway. Jessica was a couple of inches taller than her. The woman took a step back as Jessica looked down upon her.
‘I’ll take whatever tone I want to take. Now tell me where he is or, warrant or no warrant, we’ll turn this shithole upside down and see if there’s anything we can arrest
you
for.’
The woman was clearly fuming. Jessica knew that much of what she had just said was bluster and was gambling that whoever Lapham’s girlfriend was wouldn’t know that.
‘Fine. He goes to that Prince of Wales pub just over on the main road.’ She motioned with her hands the direction she meant but Jessica knew where the place was anyway because they had driven past it on the way in. The woman took a step back towards the detective in a clear effort to show she wasn’t intimidated. ‘Now get out of my house you posh bitch.’
Jessica did just that, thinking it was the first time she’d ever been called “posh”. She had the information she needed and, as DI Cole hadn’t been present, her little bit of grandstanding wouldn’t be an issue. The uniformed officer certainly hadn’t said anything and Jessica had even seen a half-smirk on his face as they walked back to the car, radioing DC Rowlands on the way to say they had got what they needed.
As they got back to her car together, DI Cole was just parking his wagon behind them. If he was annoyed that they had got there first and were on their way back from the flat empty-handed, he didn’t say anything. ‘Not in?’ was all he did say after he had opened his drivers’ side window with an electric hum.
‘Prince of Wales pub round the corner,’ Jessica said. ‘Let’s walk it, then we’ll get the marked car to park up outside when we know he’s in there.’
It must have seemed an odd sight as three people in suits and three in uniform walked the few hundred yards to the pub. Jessica showed all of them the mug shot she had printed before leaving the station so they knew who to look for. The pub was on a main road with a concreted car park at the back. Jessica sent two of the three uniformed officers to wait there, while leaving DC Rowlands and the other uniform at the front. She and DI Cole entered through the heavy wooden door.
The pub looked as if it hadn’t been renovated in Jessica’s lifetime. Despite the smoking ban being in effect for years now, Jessica could still smell stale cigarettes and the ceilings were covered in the brown and black stains that seemed so familiar before the ban. On the walls were framed photos and prints of various local football teams. The carpet was thin and completely bare in places with the stone floor visible but seemingly had a red flowery pattern at some stage. It was exactly the type of hole Harry would have loved, Jessica thought to herself.
The door opened up into what was essentially one large room with the bar to their right. There were a few railings to try to break the space up but from the door you could more-or-less see everything. Jessica scanned the room and DI Cole did the same. There were only around half-a-dozen people in the whole place and she couldn’t see Lapham. DI Cole said “no” quietly to indicate he couldn’t either. He went to check the men’s toilets, which were next to the bar itself, while Jessica sat on a stool in front of the barman.
The server, who was big and bald, towered over her as she sat. He had already been eyeing the two of them suspiciously as they walked in and the fact a potential customer had gone to use the toilets without buying a drink was no doubt causing him concern.
‘Can I get you…?’ he started to say as Jessica took out her badge from her suit pocket. She also removed the printed photo of the suspect from the other pocket and held both items up for the barman to see.
‘Have you seen this man?’ she asked.
‘Who Wayne? Yeah he was in here up until a minute ago. Took some call on his phone then bolted out the back. Left half his pint.’ The server indicated a half-drunk glass of bitter on the table a few feet away from Jessica. ‘I didn’t go clean it up ’cos I thought he might be coming back.’
Jessica slammed her hand on the bar, startling not only the barman but at least two of the other customers, who looked over towards her. ‘That cow tipped him off.’
Jessica could count on the fingers of one hand the number of times she had run since moving into plain clothes. As a kid she had actually been a pretty good athlete, especially when it came to sprinting. Somewhere in a box at her parents’ house would be a certificate or two from her school days. As with most young teenagers, girls especially, the idea of getting sweaty and dirty while at school became less and less appealing as you got older. As she sprinted back to Wayne Lapham’s house, Jessica thought that, if she hadn’t been so girly when she was thirteen, this run might have been a tad easier.
DI Cole had come back out of the toilets shaking his head as Jessica shouted something to him about Lapham just leaving. She had dashed for the front door and was halfway down the road they had just walked along with DI Cole, DC Rowlands and three uniformed officers trailing in her wake. To anyone driving past it must have seemed like a bizarre scene being filmed for a sitcom.
She bounded past DI Cole’s vehicle and her own car, hurdled a hedge and charged towards Lapham’s flat. DC Rowlands had almost caught her and arrived out of breath just after Jessica had finished pounding on the front door. She would have shouted out the woman’s name if she even knew it. She continued to bang on the door as two of the other officers then DI Cole and finally the other officer arrived. Jessica was out of breath herself but adrenaline was flooding through her and the only emotion she was giving out was blind fury. ‘She tipped him off.’ Jessica said to DI Cole, then repeated herself in case anyone was in any doubt as to why she was acting so erratically.
With no answer at the door but no warrant either, she turned to DI Cole. ‘Can we break it down?’
DI Cole ummed, so Jessica just turned to the biggest officer in their party. He was the only one in uniform who didn’t look as if he was going to keel over after the run. ‘Break it down.’ The officer looked to DI Cole for approval, so she shouted the second time. ‘Just BREAK IT DOWN.’
The uniformed constable was comfortably over six feet tall and looked as if he could smash through doors like this for fun. He ushered them to one side, took a step back and readied himself to put the full force of his boot through the door when, suddenly, it opened.
In the doorway was stood the woman from before but this time she was fully dressed. The slippers and dressing gown had been removed and she was wearing dark blue tracksuit bottoms and some kind of hooded top. She still had the over-the-top hair tie in though. The woman looked at the officer who had his foot half-raised, then at Jessica. ‘What the fuck do you think you’re doing?’
Jessica was not in a mood to be mucked about. ‘Where is he?’
The woman gave small grin, her yellowing teeth clearly visible as she goaded the officers. ‘Who?’
Jessica ignored the taunt and barged past the woman, who let out a “hey” as she was sidelined. The detective opened the first door on her right, which was the bathroom. The whole house was full of varying degrees of junk. Broken computer keyboards and other electrical items that didn’t look as if they worked littered the hallway while Jessica went into the kitchen directly opposite the front door. The draining board was piled high with dirty plates and pans and there was more random scrap on the floor. She didn’t even know if the other officers had followed her in but Jessica moved into the living room, still hearing the protests of the woman going on behind her. There was no sign of Lapham. She made her way back through the living room and kitchen into the hall where she noticed a door she had missed the first time around. In her haste to barge past the woman, she had missed an opening opposite the bathroom.
The woman was arguing with DI Cole and Jessica could hear the words “my rights” being shouted. She ignored the noise and went through the door that led into the bedroom. The bed hadn’t been made and an enormous flatscreen television hung on the wall facing it. A bright purple duvet cover was on the floor and nothing could be seen under the bed. Jessica got down on her knees and hurled the covers aside, fully expecting to see Wayne Lapham underneath.
He wasn’t there.
She stomped to the built-in wardrobe and flung open the doors, shoving the hung-up clothes aside. He wasn’t there either. Jessica swore to herself, then made her way back out to the front door where the woman was screaming at the officers still there.
She jabbed her finger in Jessica’s chest as the detective pushed past her. ‘I’m going to have you. You can’t do that. I know my rights.’
‘Is there anything in this list of “rights” that tells you aiding a criminal is an offence you can go to prison for?’ Jessica didn’t actually know if you could go to prison for it – but you probably could. It sounded good in any case.
‘What are you on about?’
‘You do know we can check your phone records?’ That statement clearly rattled the woman, whose confident expression changed instantly. ‘Where is he? I’m not going to ask again.’ One of the officers unclipped the handcuffs from his belt with timing Jessica couldn’t have wanted to be better. The woman looked at the constable holding the cuffs then back at Jessica. Her face fell, with the snarl finally removed.
‘I don’t know. He just said “thanks” then hung up.’
DI Cole spoke next and Jessica wondered why he hadn’t said anything before. ‘Do you have any idea where he might have gone?’
‘Where he always goes. Pub somewhere.’
The officers made their way back to the station in convoy with Jessica following DI Cole and the marked car they had waiting. Jessica realised she still didn’t know the woman’s name or even who she was. Presumably she was a girlfriend or something similar? They could have arrested her for aiding Lapham’s escape but she could have made a complaint about Jessica ransacking her house without a warrant. Arresting her wouldn’t have done too much good in their attempts to find their suspect in any case. One of the uniformed officers had been left with her if Lapham returned. She hadn’t been too pleased about it but DI Cole had told her they wouldn’t push charges if she cooperated.
Jessica knew it was her mistake. If she hadn’t charged in without waiting for DI Cole to arrive in the first place, then somebody could have been left to keep an eye on the woman. That would have made a lot more sense than a leisurely stroll to the pub. She phoned into the station to say they were returning without their suspect and that the Press Office should try to get a photo of Lapham on to the evening news and into the next day’s newspapers if possible. At least that way they could get the whole city looking for their guy. With any luck, if the woman was right about him propping up a bar somewhere, he would return home at closing time and the uniformed officer would have him in custody that night. Jessica knew it was almost certainly too much to hope for.
The traffic had now all-but cleared and for most people it was officially the weekend. Jessica still had to return to the station to explain what had happened. She drove steadily, simply following DI Cole, waiting when he waited and giving way when he gave way.
Back at the station, to his credit, DI Cole backed her when they went to see DCI Aylesbury. No mention had been made of Jessica going in ahead of him and he certainly hadn’t tried to push any blame on to her, even though she felt she deserved it. The whole incident hadn’t turned into the mess she thought it would, largely because the DCI was ready to go on to the television news that evening to appeal to the public for help finding Lapham. It was almost as if he couldn’t quite believe his luck.
He dismissed the two of them and made his way downstairs to wait for the cameras. Jessica offered a “thanks” to DI Cole but he just shrugged his shoulders and gave her a half-smile. ‘Have a good weekend,’ she added.
Caroline had gone out with Randall for the night and Jessica watched the evening news at home on her own. They had invited her but she really didn’t fancy it. She had been finding reasons to avoid the flat for the past couple of nights in any case. Although last night had been the first time Caroline’s boyfriend had stayed over, they had spent most evenings in together that week. Jessica was glad her friend was happy but the lovey-dovey stuff drove her mad. She didn’t really want to say anything and at least she could now have an evening in on her own.
Jessica flopped into the sofa with her feet curled underneath her and watched the news on one local channel, then flicked to the other. DCI Aylesbury was in his element. For the first piece he was outside the station while the sun set. He had his best “this is serious stuff” face on while he spoke about the need for the public to be vigilant. He said that some Press reports had been wildly inaccurate, added that people shouldn’t panic and then went on to say the police were looking for help in finding Wayne Lapham to “help us with our enquiries”. He didn’t once mention the word “suspect”. The channel then showed the mug shot of Lapham with his name underneath. On the second station, the DCI had moved inside, into the Pad for his interview. He went over much the same information the second time around but, if anything, looked even more sincere this time, despite being sat on the edge of a desk.