Authors: Clare Donoghue
The sudden outpouring of praise made Jane pause. She studied Mort. His impassioned speech appeared genuine, not unlike Victor’s the previous day. It was clear that Maggie attracted a certain type. Both men were intelligent, academic. Both men were confident, handsome and dynamic. Where they differed was in their personalities. Victor was charming, affable and sincere. Mort was aggressive, condescending and full of shit. Mort was Dr Jekyll to Victor’s Mr Hyde. ‘Terry,’ she said, tapping the end of her nose with her pen, ‘it seems obvious that Maggie’s behaviour lessened your opinion of her, but even so, you don’t seem at all distressed by her death. Would it be fair to say that?’
‘Can I be honest?’ Mort asked, leaning forward. She felt Lockyer mirror the gesture, leaning down towards them from his position by the filing cabinet. Whether that was to protect her or hear better she wasn’t sure.
‘Please, go ahead,’ she said.
‘Maggie’s death was sudden, and obviously I have some feelings about it, despite the nature of our break-up. But the truth is, I am more intrigued than anything else.’
Jane saw Lockyer’s eyebrows go up. He opened his mouth to speak, but she beat him to it. ‘Intrigued?’ she said.
Mort nodded like an eager schoolboy. ‘I just . . . I have so many questions.’ He looked at Jane and then up at Locker, holding up his hands. ‘Now I know how that sounds, but I’m sure – given your training and experience – you can understand. In the same way you have learned emotional detachment in order to do your job, I have been trained to look at things from a scientific perspective. The manner of her death: what does it mean? What can be learned?’ Jane could feel Lockyer’s agitation. He was moving his weight from one foot to the other. She was pretty sure he was thinking about knocking Mort’s front teeth out. She was tempted to do the same, but Mort seemed oblivious to their reactions. ‘Was she alive when she was put underground?’ he asked. Jane would swear his pupils dilated as he spoke. ‘If she was, do you know how long she lived for? Fear has an astonishing effect on the brain. I’m sure it’s not possible on an active investigation, but perhaps, once you’ve finished, I could speak to you again; perhaps get some more details. This kind of data could be invaluable to my research.’ By the time he finished speaking he was out of breath.
Jane looked at Lockyer. He shook his head, his eyebrows high on his forehead, and looked up at the ceiling. ‘Terry,’ he said, his hands gripping the top of the filing cabinet, ‘you need to think very carefully before you continue. Maggie Hungerford’s death is not one of your school projects. She is not some guinea pig that you can dissect and study. I would appreciate it if you would keep your ghoulish thoughts to yourself.’ He took a deep breath before levelling his gaze at Mort. ‘And if I ever hear that you’ve been talking about this case – any aspects of this case – to your fellow students, I will have you kicked out of this university quicker than you can say “Freud”. Am I making myself clear?’
Mort shrugged. Lockyer’s position and body language were obvious, but if Mort felt threatened he didn’t show it. ‘Fair enough,’ he said, turning back to Jane. ‘Many people find some aspects of psychology difficult to understand.’
Lockyer took a step closer. ‘I’ve had enough of this.’
‘You and me both, Detective,’ Mort replied, his face the picture of innocence.
Jane stood, putting herself between Lockyer and Mort. ‘Just one final question, Terry,’ she said. ‘It has been mentioned that you run several study groups.’ Lockyer huffed out a breath behind her.
‘I do,’ Mort said.
‘Are these groups regulated by the university?’ she asked. ‘Do you have to submit your study programme, members – that kind of thing – so that students can be registered for extra credits?’
He was nodding. ‘Exactly that, Detective.’ He seemed impressed that she knew something, however banal, about academic life. Lockyer was pacing in a tight circle next to the door. Mort remained unfazed. It was as if he couldn’t see him. ‘I help with two of the Masters groups. I’m not involved per se, but I suggest topics, further reading; anything to help them expand on their own ideas.’
‘Do you run any extracurricular groups? Outside the university, for example?’
‘No,’ he said. ‘What would be the point?’
His answer was clear, but Jane could tell by the way he shifted in his seat that the ‘can I be honest’ section of the interview was over. She was remembering what Victor had told her. She was also thinking about what Lockyer had just said: ‘Maggie Hungerford’s death is not one of your school projects.’
But what if she was? What if that was exactly what she was?
30th April – Wednesday
Lockyer was becoming accustomed to being on the wrong side of Roger’s fury. Jane, on the other hand, was not. Lockyer pulled out a chair for her and told her to sit down. ‘There’s no point standing on ceremony. When the boss goes, he goes,’ he said, positioning himself to the side of her chair, still standing. She might be the one in trouble, but he was going to do his best to deflect as much of Roger’s anger as possible. She had let him in on her case and for that he owed her one. Yes, she had, in not so many words, told him to back off at the university; and yes, he had wanted to kill Terry Mort with his bare hands. But Lockyer had felt more like himself today than he had done in weeks. ‘Roger will shout a fair bit and stomp about the office, but it’s mainly for show. Imagine a silverback gorilla banging about in the jungle – it’s like that.’ He saw Jane’s face drop and realized he wasn’t helping. ‘It’ll be fine, Jane. I’ll explain what happened.’
She shook her head and looked up at him. ‘Thanks, sir, but I’d prefer to handle it, if you don’t mind? It’s my case. Roger assigned it to me. I need to take the heat.’
‘But—’ Lockyer tried to cut in.
‘Sir, if I let you take over again, Roger won’t be able to trust me, or my judgement. The Hungerford case was assigned to me, and it’s my responsibility to explain why I took you over to the uni.’
Her ‘again’ didn’t escape Lockyer’s notice. She looked nervous, her face pale. Lockyer doubted if Jane had ever been called into their SIO’s office for anything other than praise. She was beyond reproach in everything she did. It was her way, and what made her such a brilliant DS. It was why he had chosen her for his team. He could only hope that the impending dressing-down didn’t knock her confidence too much. ‘Okay, fair enough,’ he said. He would respect her wishes for now, but if things got too serious he would step in, whether Jane liked it or not.
‘Great – you’re both here.’
Lockyer turned as Roger walked into the office, shutting the glass door behind him. Compared to the last time he had faced his SIO’s wrath, Roger looked in control. Maybe this wasn’t going to be too bad after all. Perhaps it was only Lockyer who brought out Roger’s crazy side.
‘Boss,’ he said, nodding, standing to attention and clasping his hands behind his back.
‘Jane, nice to see you’ve made yourself comfortable,’ Roger said, walking around the desk. She was out of her seat and standing next to Lockyer before he turned back to face them both. ‘That’s better.’
Lockyer tried to catch Roger’s eyes, to let him know he was more than happy to take the blame. He couldn’t stand seeing Jane this submissive. There was something shameful about it. ‘Boss,’ he began, unable to stop himself.
‘Take it easy, Mike,’ Roger said. ‘You don’t need to get all over-protective. DS Bennett can handle herself, can’t you, Jane?’
‘Yes, boss,’ she said. The look she gave Lockyer needed no interpretation.
‘Please,’ Roger said, pointing to the two chairs facing his desk. ‘Sit down, both of you. Half the office watched you walk in, so now the whole office is straining to hear which one of you I’m firing today.’ He smiled, but Lockyer could see the tension in his face.
Lockyer waited for Jane to sit down, before pulling his chair closer to her and sitting down himself. He couldn’t help feeling protective. Jane was his DS. She had taken him to the uni for the interviews because he had asked to go. She was following orders. Just not the ones handed down by Roger.
‘So, I hear you had a little excursion today?’ Roger asked, looking at Jane.
‘Yes,’ Jane said. ‘First-time interviews on the Hungerford case. DC Groves interviewed Professor Cresswell, head of psychology, yesterday and he provided a list of all the students and tutors who would have had contact with the victim.’ Her voice was level and she maintained eye contact with Roger, but Lockyer could see she was still anxious.
‘And?’ Roger said, sitting back in his chair, waving his hand for her to continue.
‘DI Lockyer and I discussed the case yesterday and I asked him to accompany me, to assist with the questioning and—’
Roger cut her off. ‘Right, I see. That all sounds reasonable, sensible even. But the problem I have, DS Bennett, is that I specifically assigned DI Lockyer to cold-cases, for reasons we don’t need to go into now. Furthermore, I specifically told you that the Hungerford case was yours to run. I signed off on your team members. Why didn’t you take one of them with you?’
‘This is a complicated inquiry,’ Jane said. ‘I felt DI Lockyer’s support and input would be valuable. He is the most senior officer in the squad, and my direct superior.’
If her words riled Roger’s sense of hierarchy, he didn’t show it. ‘You don’t feel you can handle the case on your own?’ The question sounded genuine.
‘No, boss,’ she said, ‘I
can
handle it. It was a judgement call. DI Lockyer was available and willing to offer his assistance. There were a lot of individuals to speak to, and I have a lot of experience of working with DI Lockyer. It made sense.’
‘For the case, you mean?’
‘Yes. My first priority was, and is, the Hungerford case. It’s my job as lead DS to requisition and utilize all resources available to me, as long as they benefit the ongoing investigation. The case is now a week old. I am not prepared to let inter-office disputes disrupt the case.’
Lockyer was impressed. There was no need for him to be here. The confidence and authority in Jane’s voice were hard to ignore. She had no intention of getting stuck in the middle of Roger and Lockyer’s business. She had separated herself, and the case, with skill and poise. Lockyer could tell from Roger’s expression that he was just as impressed. Both men sat in silence.
Jane went on, ‘I should have advised you, as SIO, that I was intending to take DI Lockyer with me. I can only apologize for the oversight. It won’t happen again.’
Roger smiled and said, ‘You wouldn’t believe how many times I’ve heard your boss say the very same thing. You’ve taught her well, Mike.’ He finally met Lockyer’s eyes. ‘Is it just me, or did she just run rings around me in my own office?’
‘What can I say, Roger,’ Lockyer said. ‘She’s the best DS we have.’
‘No denying that,’ Roger said. ‘Thank you, Jane. You made that a lot easier than most.’
‘Thanks, boss,’ she said. Her shoulders had dropped by an inch, but Lockyer could tell she was still on full alert. He had a feeling that today would be the first and last time she went outside the chain of command. Lockyer stood to leave.
‘Before you go,’ Roger said, ‘I have some news – for you both, it seems.’ Neither he nor Jane said anything. Lockyer didn’t want to disrupt the newly calm atmosphere. ‘While you were over in Greenwich, some of the labs came back on Hungerford. Penny ran them past me to get the okay for a warrant.’
‘A warrant?’ Jane said, standing and pushing her chair back.
‘The toxicology report came back positive for morphine. The victim had traces in her stomach,’ Roger said, raising his eyebrow.
‘Meaning she ingested it?’ Lockyer asked, his brow creasing. ‘I thought she was knocked unconscious?’
‘She was,’ Roger said.
‘Liquid morphine?’ Jane asked.
‘No,’ Roger said. ‘The morphine was in tablet form. Dave found fragments in the girl’s stomach.’
‘What?’ Lockyer said. ‘Her attacker force-fed her morphine tablets while she was unconscious?’
‘No. Dave says that’s not possible,’ Roger continued. ‘One or two pills maybe, but the quantity required to knock the victim out: no. She would have to have ingested them herself.’
‘So it’s a suicide now, is it?’ Lockyer said, almost amused.
‘Victor?’ Jane said in a whisper.
‘You’ve got it,’ Roger said. ‘Victor Lebowski was the last person to see the girl alive. They had dinner. He must have crushed up the medication and put it in her meal.’
‘That can’t be right,’ Jane said, sitting down again, her eyes darting back and forth. ‘Maggie was taken from her own home. She was in her pyjamas. Her blood was found on her front steps where she was knocked out. According to Victor, they had dinner at his house, drank some wine, had sex,’ she paused. ‘Then Maggie went home. We’re assuming she wasn’t taken until the early hours. She could have eaten later on that evening.’
‘Jane,’ Roger said, ‘are you suggesting her killer broke into her house and crushed up morphine tablets in her cereal, on the off-chance that she might have a snack when she arrived home? Then he knocked on the door in the middle of the night, got her to answer it in her pyjamas and come outside, turn round so that he could hit her on the back of the head and then, luckily for him, she’d had her cornflakes and the morphine just happened to kick in at that moment, so she was sedated for their trip over to Elmstead?’ Their SIO looked incredulous. It was clear he had been expecting thanks from Jane, not questions. Lockyer couldn’t blame him. Liquid morphine or drugs administered by needle would have left things ambiguous, but the victim ingesting a large quantity of morphine pills pretty much put Victor Lebowski in the frame. Why was Jane arguing the guy’s case?
‘No,’ Jane said. ‘Of course not. But we met an individual today. Mort – Terry Mort.’ Lockyer’s shoulders tensed at the sound of the guy’s name. He still wanted to hit him. ‘He’s Maggie’s ex-boyfriend, and he was . . . ’ She rubbed her face. ‘I wasn’t happy with his story, boss, and he’s yet to provide an alibi. Victor told me that Mort had tried to stop Maggie going to dinner that night. That he had been trying to get her back for months: calling, sending flowers, harassing her.’ She seemed in a rush to get her words out, and Lockyer couldn’t help but notice that she kept using Lebowski’s first name. ‘What if Mort went to Maggie’s flat later than evening. He was an ex, so it’s feasible she would let him in, even in her nightclothes. They talked. He’d brought something with him for them to eat.’ She looked up at the ceiling. ‘Then he . . . he attacked her as he was leaving.’