“£40.82”
She looked down at Hugo, who was just grinning. She looked over to DC Rowlands and tossed him the piece of plastic. He caught it and looked at the number before exploding into laughter. ‘That is fan-bloody-tastic,’ he said.
Hugo didn’t say anything but just continued to smile. Jessica had to admit it was impressive. ‘Pretty good. I’ve seen better,’ she said.
DC Rowlands was still laughing. ‘Love it, mate. Love it.’
Jessica let the mood settle. ‘Okay, can we do what we came here for?’
Hugo had a knowing smile on his face but nodded at her. ‘What would you like to know?’
Jessica didn’t want to go into too much detail about the case, while DC Rowlands was still giggling to himself and rolling the chip around in his hand. ‘What do you know about getting in and out of somewhere that is completely locked?’ she asked.
Hugo nodded, taking her question in. He looked straight at her and she noticed that, despite his frame and weirdness he was actually quite a good-looking guy. His face was nicely symmetrical and his smile was appealing and kindly. ‘The thing is Detective, with any act of illusion the obvious answer is almost certainly the correct one. Nobody can walk through walls or truly disappear from one spot and reappear in another. As an entertainer, though, my job is to make you think I can.’
‘But how...?’ Jessica started.
‘Think Detective. When you’re watching someone perform, it’s not what you do see that matters, it’s what you don’t see. Is someone really flying just because you can’t see the wires holding them?’
‘But I know a man can’t fly. I know somebody can’t walk through walls.’
‘We all know what a human being can and can’t do. The art of illusion is to make you question that. Look at me. What are the first things you noticed?’
Jessica rescanned him but knew what she was going to say. ‘You’re wearing two watches and odd shoes.’
‘Exactly and while you’re busy looking at my feet and wrists you’re missing far more fundamental things.’
Jessica finally got it. ‘So you’re saying we’re overlooking something straightforward?’
‘I don’t know; that’s not for me to say but I do know that with anything that looks impossible, the obvious answer is almost certainly the correct one.’
DC Rowlands drove them both back to the station, still crowing about his friend’s trick. He had kept the poker chip as a memento. Jessica thought about what Hugo had told her. The shoes and the watches were misdirection. She didn’t know how he had done the trick but did actually feel as if she had learned something from him. In terms of progress, the meeting hadn’t actually got her anywhere but she felt it could be useful in the future. For now, she just had to put his advice into practical terms. She still felt that the key to the case would be linking the victims. Wayne Lapham was a connection but there must be another one. If she could find that link, she felt sure the rest of the pieces would click into place – including the mystery way the person had got into and out of the houses. It was that part she felt was the misdirection. While they were focusing on the method, they were not concentrating on whoever had murdered two people.
Hugo’s words stuck in her mind as the week went on. The two people that had been given the task of linking the victims were reassigned while Jessica took on the job herself. She would take the files of Yvonne Christensen and Martin Prince home each evening, hoping something would occur to her which others had somehow missed. She went back over the notes of the interviews with the victims’ family and friends and rechecked things such as bank and phone records. She even looked up where the victims had gone to school to see if they knew each other without knowing it. It was dead end after dead end and she was becoming fully aware she was turning into a nightmare to live with.
Caroline’s relationship with Randall had turned fairly serious. They were sleeping over at either Randall’s flat or theirs every night of the week now. Caroline asked her whether she minded but it was a bit late and Jessica wouldn’t have objected even if she did; she was pleased her friend was happy. Caroline said that Randall’s flat was a bit basic and theirs was much nicer. Jessica was allowing herself to be engulfed by the work. She would leave the flat early and either come home late or return with the two files she knew off-by-heart. She had phoned Harry the evening after meeting Hugo but he had not answered. She also texted Garry Ashford that night.
“I owe you.”
In many ways, the week had gone well. Her court appearance was out of the way and the embarrassment over what had happened in the incident room the previous weekend was forgotten. Somehow, she was also off the hook over her relationship with the media. The ironic thing was that, when she was under suspicion, she hadn’t spoke to the papers but afterwards she actually
had
spoken to Garry Ashford and was now not in trouble. She thought it was odd how things worked out.
The week had gone well, of course with one major problem: The investigation was still going precisely nowhere and even the Press were bored now. Since visiting Sandra Prince after her release from hospital, Jessica had phoned the woman twice more. She just wanted to let the victim’s wife know she was trying her best. Each time they had talked, Jessica could hear the devastation in the woman’s voice. She said nice things and wished Jessica well but the detective felt guilty for her own lack of progress.
Caroline had noticed her friend’s isolation and said she wanted to do something to cheer her up. Jessica had told her not to but eventually relented. Caroline had arranged a dinner party at their house. She wanted to show Randall what a good cook she was but, not content with just cooking for two, had insisted Jessica be there too, while Randall had invited one of his friends along.
Jessica knew it was a sneaky way of getting her on a date of sorts but couldn’t be bothered arguing. As promised, she had come home from the station “on time”. She told Caroline that, if anything major had occurred, the plans would have to change but, much as she had willed it to all day, nothing had come up. As she had entered the flat, she smelled something inviting coming from their kitchen. She had yelled a “hi” and her friend had come from the kitchen and given a little squeal. ‘You’re back.’
‘I’m back.’
‘So you want to... get changed or anything?’
‘Nope.’ Since going into plain-clothes, Jessica had spent most evenings still wearing her work suits. It was a habit that went all the way back to school, where she would stay in her uniform from the moment she got dressed in the morning to the moment she got ready for bed in the evening. Her parents had tried to make her alter her ways but eventually realised they were fighting a losing battle. She wasn’t really bothered about making an impression on whoever Randall’s friend happened to be. She thought she looked all right in any case. Her suit fitted her pretty decently, while she had washed her hair the night before. That, along with a little make-up, was about as prepared as she bothered to get when going out nowadays.
‘Okay then. Could you watch the stove while I go get changed?’
‘Er, what do I have to do?’
‘Just make sure it doesn’t boil over.’ Even with her limited culinary skills, Jessica felt she could just about manage that. As ever, she put her bag and shoes down just inside the living room door on top of the two files she was carrying around more for comfort than anything practical. Caroline went off to her room, while Jessica went into the kitchen.
Their kitchen wasn’t massive but the end wall opposite the door had a cooker, which had eventually been brought in by their landlord after their complaints about the original one. It looked pretty decent but Jessica had never really bothered to learn how to use it. Her instruments of choice lay on the counter-top next to it; a toaster and microwave. There were various cupboards lining the walls above the counter tops, then again down the left-hand side of the room. All of the doors matched the light yellow colour scheme of the room and Caroline did a great job of keeping everything spotless.
Jessica wasn’t completely sure what was in the pan she was making sure didn’t boil over by stirring it. Whatever it was, it looked sort of potatoey and smelled good, as did whatever was in the oven itself.
Their flat had two bedrooms and a reasonably-sized living room but the kitchen had to double up as a dining room as necessary. Most of the time they ate from their laps in the living room but the option was there if they wanted to feel almost civilised.
There was a small table in the kitchen with a wobbly leg and Jessica sat fiddling with her phone while deliberately rocking the table and checking a few websites plus reading an email from her mum. Her parents had the Internet installed a few years previously but it was only recently they were beginning to get to grips with its possibilities. With Jessica so busy and their phone calls becoming less frequent, her mum had taken to emailing. Her dad still wasn’t too taken with technology, so her mother would write on both of their behalves. Each email was immaculately written. While language was evolving due to things such as shortened text-speak, Jessica’s mother was certainly not one for shorthand. Everything was spelled correctly with perfect grammar. The detective always liked that when she read her mum’s emails and it reminded her of being younger back at home, when her mother would read her homework and teach Jessica about things like commas and apostrophes.
The doorbell went and Jessica heard Caroline calling, ‘Can you get it?’
Jessica went to the door and opened it. Randall was at the front and gave her a big grin and a “hi”. He kissed her on the cheek as he came into the flat followed by his friend. Jessica closed the door behind them then turned around, noticing the other guy for the first time properly. He was a little taller than her with short black hair and a nicely trimmed stubbly beard. He was wearing fashionable dark blue jeans and a nice loose-fitting linen shirt. It had an extra button undone at the top and his thick dark chest hair was clearly visible. He had a cheeky-looking grin already on his face as he looked at her. ‘How ya doin’ Jess? This is Ryan,’ said Randall.
‘Hi.’ The two of them shook hands.
‘You’re probably better waiting in the living room,’ Jessica said. ‘Caz is still getting changed and I’m on kitchen duty.’
‘Okay cool.’
Jessica went back to the kitchen but soon heard Caroline’s bedroom door open, then heard the “hellos” from the other room. Her friend then came back into the kitchen. She had clearly put a fair amount of effort into her appearance. She was wearing a short low-cut red cocktail dress with heels, even though they were inside, then had her hair tied up away from her face, which was impressively made-up. She looked adult and sophisticated, while Jessica suddenly felt a bit silly in her work outfit. ‘You look great,’ Jessica said.
Caroline gave a half-curtsey. ‘Thanks, do you reckon Randall will like it?’
‘He’d be mental not to.’
‘Did you say hello to Ryan?’
‘Yeah.’
‘What do ya reckon?’
‘Of what?’
Caroline looked sideways at her friend. ‘You know. What do you
reckon
?’
Jessica smiled. ‘He’s okay.’
‘Do you know he’s a vet?’
‘So?’
‘Y’know. Good with his hands, cares for animals, nice guy.’
Jessica ignored the insinuation. ‘When’s tea?’
‘Soon. Go say hello to the boys.’
‘Okay fine. But let’s open the wine first.’ Jessica went into the living room with her topped-up glass where Randall and Ryan were watching some show on television about American truckers. It wasn’t the kind of programme she would usually have sat through. Randall was sat in the reclining seat, giving Jessica little option but to sit next to Ryan on the sofa. She would have to have words with Caroline when they were next alone. If she and Randall were going to try to fix her up with someone, they should at least try to be less obvious about it.
‘All right?’ she said as she slouched on to the sofa. ‘Tea won’t be long, apparently.’
‘I’ll go see how Caz is getting on,’ said Randall standing up and heading off to the kitchen.
“
Be more obvious about it...
” Jessica thought but said nothing. She suddenly found the television programme incredibly interesting. She noticed Ryan looking at her and gave him a half-smile.
‘So is it “Jess” or “Jessica”?’ Ryan was smiling back at her. He really did have a boyish grin.
‘Either, I don’t mind.’
‘Okay then, “Jess”, Randy says you work for the police?’
‘Yeah... Er, “Randy”?’
‘Ha. Yeah, Randy. It started off as a bit of a joke really but it kind of stuck.’
‘How do you know him?’
‘Just from out and about. Nowhere special.’ There was an awkward pause. ‘He’s a nice guy, y’know. He likes your mate a lot,’ said Ryan clearly trying to make conversation.
‘He better.’
‘I’m not sure he’s really had a girlfriend before.’
‘Really?’
‘Well, I’ve never seen him go around with someone like he does Caroline.’
Another bout of quiet was broken only by the sound of the TV. ‘So, police then?’ Ryan tried again.
‘Yeah.’
‘What is it you do?’
‘I’m a detective.’
‘Oh, are you...? Oh yeah. You were in the papers, “The Houdini Hunter”.’
Jessica sighed. ‘That bloody headline... yeah, something like that.’
‘That’s pretty cool. You’re famous.’
‘Er, not really.’ Ryan’s small-talk was beginning to break through Jessica’s apathy. It wasn’t that she didn’t think he was good-looking, she just wasn’t really interested in having a boyfriend or anything like that. She didn’t like the fact Caroline and Randall had more-or-less forced her into the situation either. As for the actual talk, she simply didn’t make a habit of chatting to anyone about her job but there was something about Ryan; he was persistent at least.
‘I hear you’re a vet.’ Jessica could barely believe she was saying the words. She didn’t even really like animals and had never been impressed by what people’s jobs were. In the course of being a police officer, she had come across despicable people with terrific professions and lovely people who earned terrible money doing jobs most others wouldn’t even think twice about taking. You learned to judge people on their actions, not their wealth, name or occupation.