Bye Bye Baby (28 page)

‘I can’t really remember him so clearly. He was nothing special.’

‘Well, tell me what you can. How tall was he?’

‘Taller than I am, not as tall as you. He was thinnish, had freckly arms.’

‘Alright, how about hair colour?’

‘Nothing special, dark.’

‘Curly, wavy, straight, long, short?’ Jack reached for an easy example. ‘Like Leo Sayer?’

‘No, straight.’

‘Okay. You didn’t get his eye colour, did you?’

‘Blue.’

‘What sort of blue?’

Phil shrugged. ‘Just blue.’

‘Dark, light, mid-blue?’

‘Yeah, the last one.’

Jack tried not to sigh. ‘What about skin?’

‘White.’

Jack couldn’t hide the soft sneer. ‘As in English?’

‘No, I mean he was so pale you could see the veins in his arms. He was really white — and freckly, like I said before.’

Phil appeared to be drifting. His gaze had become distant.

‘Was he hairy?’

Phil shook his head.

‘What about his voice?’

‘He spoke quietly. His voice had an accent — like Val Doonican, remember him? — but I don’t know.’ He shrugged an apology. ‘What about the baby?’ he added, as if in a trance.

Jack could tell he’d lost Bowles regarding any further clarification on Pierrot’s appearance. He pressed on, moving with Phil’s thoughts. ‘The child, yes, what do you think happened to it?’

‘I don’t know. I never saw or heard of Pierrot or any of the others again until I read in the newspapers that Mikey had died. I can’t believe Anne’s still alive,’ he finished, looking terrified. ‘She must have suffered so much. I don’t think I can live with myself over this, not now that I know.’

Jack would have liked to ask Phil how he’d lived this long with such a terrible secret. Instead, he dictated the routine words to wrap up the recording, switched the contraption off and slipped it into his pocket.

‘Shall we go? You’d better lock up the house, put on something warm. We can come back and pack a few things later.’

‘We’re leaving?’

‘Yes. We’re going to keep you safe.’

‘I can’t ever be safe from my memories, Detective Hawksworth.’

No, I don’t suppose you can
, Jack thought.

Phil stood. ‘My dog. He can’t be left alone. I locked him in one of the bedrooms. Do you mind if I get him?’

‘He can come along. He’s small, is he?’

‘Tiny. Um, I also kept my mask from the Jesters Club. Do you want me to give that to the police?’

‘Yes, Phil. Definitely bring anything that you think can help us to find Anne.’

Bowles excused himself. ‘I shan’t be long. I might visit the lavvy as well, if that’s okay.’

‘Of course,’ Jack said, reaching for his phone as Phil left the room. There was a flood of missed calls: two from Sarah and three from Kate, including a text from Kate that said,
Ring me urgently
. He was still quietly angry with her about her behaviour and her comment
in the lift. She could sweat on it, he thought, especially as next in line was a text from Sophie. He opened up the message.

Spoke 2 Kate. Said u worried about my viz. Don’t be, she an old friend. Call ltr. Sxx

Jack felt a soft stir of fresh anger that Kate was meddling again in his private life. She had no business talking to Sophie about anything that he’d mentioned, and why were they talking anyway? His phone rang while he was still fuming.

‘Hawksworth,’ he snapped.

‘Wow, Jack, what’s up?’

‘Sophie,’ he said and sighed. ‘Sorry, bad morning. I just got your message.’

‘I haven’t been able to reach you but was told you probably had your phone switched off. I thought I’d give it one more go.’

‘I had it on silent. I was interviewing. Did you ring the Yard?’

‘Yes, although I won’t make a habit of it, don’t worry. Your female colleague, Kate, sounded overly protective.’

Jack’s jaw worked to keep his impatience at Kate in check. ‘I guess when you work as a close team everyone tends to get protective.’

‘She’s probably in love with you,’ Sophie teased.

‘Whatever makes you say that?’

‘Mmm, ribbing you clearly isn’t a good idea this morning. Are things hotting up?’

Jack didn’t want to argue with Sophie of all people.

‘Yes. We finally have a witness.’

‘To the killings?’ she asked, incredulous.

‘No, to that case all those years ago.’

‘Oh, right. I hear the police are asking for someone to come forward regarding the two murders.’

‘Yes, we’re hoping to have him in custody later today.’

‘Well, good luck with it all. I, meanwhile, need you to wish me luck with my mother. She’s very cranky but I’ll be taking her out to lunch and hope that will soothe her grumpy state.’

‘There’s a great pub in North Devon called The Half Moon. Real ales.’

‘We’ll probably just go to the George in South Molton. I’ve already booked it. She likes the roast of the day,’ Sophie said with resignation.

‘How’s the weather?’

‘Pouring.’

‘So . . .’ Jack wanted to ask Sophie about the trains this morning but he had enough problems to juggle for today.

‘What?’

‘Looking forward to seeing you.’

‘I’ll let you go,’ she said and he could hear the smile in her voice. ‘Talk later.’

Brodie returned. ‘Where’s Bowles?’ he asked Jack, who was dialling to check his voicemail.

‘Bathroom and getting ready to leave.’

Brodie nodded. ‘Kate’s chasing you.’

‘Yeah, so I hear from these messages.’ He snapped his phone shut on Kate’s voice urging him to call her.

‘I’ve just checked with Sarah. Apparently no one home at the Fletcher household. They’re tracking a mobile number now.’

‘Okay. Maybe the media announcement will find him for us first.’

‘Bowles has been a while.’

‘Go check, Cam. I’d better call Kate.’

Brodie headed for the stairs, while Jack dialled the operations room.

‘Operation Danube. DS Jones speaking.’

‘Hi, Sarah, it’s me.’

‘Hello, sir. How’s it going with Bowles?’

‘He’s given us a story to curl the hair. Kate was right — I think we can now say our killer is likely to be Anne McEvoy.’

‘We’ll get to work on it immediately, sir. Kate’s desperate to speak with you.’

‘So I gather. Switch me through.’ Jack heard a muffled yell from upstairs.

‘It’s Kate, sir.’

‘Hang on,’ he said into the phone. ‘Brodie?’ he called.

‘I need help!’ Brodie yelled. There was no mistaking the panic in his voice.

‘I’ll call you back,’ Jack said to Kate and began running up the stairs two at a time. ‘Where?’ he yelled.

‘Here!’

Jack burst into the bathroom to find Brodie, his shirtfront drenched in blood, cradling a dying Phillip Bowles, the artery at the smaller man’s wrist long finished pumping out the little life he had left in him. The blood was a mere trickle now, gurgling down the plughole and staining the feet of a tiny fox terrier who sat between his master’s legs, whining.

‘No-oo!’ Jack bellowed, his fingers blindly dialling the emergency line.

‘It’s too late, Hawk,’ Brodie groaned, his fingers at Bowles’s throat. ‘No pulse.’

The dog began to howl.

29

Jack leaned miserably against the front of the car, talking to the Super. He’d already outlined all that they’d learned from Bowles but now they were back on to his unexpected death, both still shocked.

‘How could this happen?’ Sharpe said.

‘I’m so sorry, sir,’ Jack answered, his misery evident in his tone. ‘He didn’t strike me as a risk. In fact, he desperately wanted our protection.’

‘Then why?’ Sharpe sounded angry now. ‘He was our chance to break this case open.’

Jack paused, allowing the Super’s understandable fury to dissipate into the silence. ‘He’d just learned that Anne McEvoy survived the attack and is probably hunting him. I think that’s what must have pushed him over the edge, sir. Until now, he’d believed her dead. Thirty years of guilt finally caught up with him.’

‘Right,’ the Super said with finality. ‘Call in everyone from your team and anyone else you need. You find this Edward Fletcher, Jack, and find him fast. We have no idea who this Pierrot is, do we?’

‘None, sir.’

‘Then Fletcher is all we have. Don’t let her get to him first. Keep me posted.’

‘Yes, sir.’

The line went dead. Jack sighed, feeling done in. What a day. He dialled Operation Danube.

‘Hi, Sarah. Can I speak with Kate, please?’

A moment later she clicked on. ‘It’s Kate. What happened, sir?’

‘Bowles topped himself.’

‘Oh my god!’

‘It’s such a fuck-up,’ Jack said bitterly.

‘Well ... how ... wh—’

‘Slit his wrists while we waited for him downstairs. He said he was going up to get a few things. I was on the phone to you . . .’ He didn’t finish; didn’t mention that he’d also spoken to Sophie while Phil Bowles was bleeding to death.

‘I’m sorry, sir.’

‘Yes, that’s just what I told the Super.’

‘So Fletcher is everything now, I guess,’ Kate said, already moving beyond Bowles, although the shock hadn’t left her voice.

‘Get the whole team in, Kate,’ he said. ‘Call in any extra staff you think we need. We have to find Fletcher. Get Sussex doorknocking the neighbours. Find out anything you can from his dentist, his doctor, anyone.’

‘We’ll find him, sir, I promise. So Anne McEvoy is our girl?’

‘It seems so. Get Sarah hunting down everything she can on McEvoy; you stay on Fletcher.’

‘Are you and Cam staying in Brighton?’

‘I’ll leave Brodie to sort everything here. I might get across to Hastings, see if I can help out there, although
Fletcher could be anywhere,’ Jack said miserably. Then added, ‘It won’t end with him, though.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘There was a fifth person, as we’d begun to suspect. An older man. The one who led the boys in the attacks. From what Bowles said, none of the lads laid a finger on Anne other than to help abduct her. It was this other fellow they called Pierrot who raped and then attacked her. They were the stooges.’

‘Pierrot — after the clown?’

‘Yes. Hence the masks — which reminds me, Bowles kept his.’ Jack made a mental note to tell Brodie to find that mask. ‘It may explain the blue paint.’

‘How, sir?’

‘Well, we know blue make-up is considered unlucky by clowns. Perhaps this was Anne McEvoy’s way of reminding these clowns they’d had their last laugh.’

‘Revolting. What about the other injuries?’

‘Brodie and I think we’ve found the reason for the single stab wound. Apparently this Pierrot guy killed McEvoy’s new puppy. Stabbed him in the belly, just the once. The pup’s safety was how they coerced Anne into a toilet block in Hove Park.’

‘Where they raped her,’ Kate finished.

‘They drugged her first, Bowles told us. Killed her dog, left a note wishing her a happy birthday apparently.’

‘She’s drugging each of them, too,’ Kate said. ‘It’s not her being generous, sir. She’s recreating the scene for them.’

Jack felt momentarily brighter as another piece of
the puzzle slotted into place. ‘I wonder if the odd places we found the bodies are also pointers to what they did to her. Farrow was found in a toilet block; Sheriff in an alley.’

‘Where else is there? Did Bowles give you any other ideas?’

‘No. I just let him talk. We were going to debrief him properly at Lewes. Fuck!’

‘So we have nothing on this older guy?’

Jack shook his head in deep frustration. ‘Nothing. We only know his nickname and that he obviously resided in Brighton or Hove at the time. According to Bowles, he has dark hair, blue eyes, freckles.’

‘Well, terrific. That really narrows it down.’

He grunted. ‘Bowles said he spoke with an accent — not very strong though.’

‘What type of accent?’

‘Bowles couldn’t pinpoint it. Said he was like Val Doonican, so we’re guessing Irish.’

‘Right, well, that might lead somewhere. Something did occur to me last night, sir ... er, it was why I came over to Highgate this morning. I thought I’d share it after such a sleepless time of it.’

He ignored her awkward manner. ‘Go on.’

‘I was thinking about why a woman might wait thirty years — a lifetime, almost — to take revenge. This bloke we now know about aside, they were all kids when it occurred and it seemed to me that the passing years must have allowed her to heal and look at that time from a mature perspective — perhaps see it for the madness it was.’

‘And?’ He had to hand it to Kate. He liked the way her mind worked.

‘Well, it got me thinking as to what might then prompt that same mature woman to go so suddenly beserk.’

‘Have you come up with a scenario?’

‘Well, sir, I know you don’t like us to generalise but I believe there are a couple of major things that can cause a woman to turn violent: her passion for a man, and-or for her family.’

‘What are you saying?’

‘Perhaps Anne McEvoy had sudden relationship problems.’

‘A woman scorned? And you think that’s enough to send her on a psychotic killing rampage thirty years later?’

‘No, sir, but I think it could be part of it. I think if her emotions were suddenly smashed around by the man in her life, it might have put her into a depressed state that took her back to that awful time.’

‘Too thin, Kate.’

‘Okay, hear me out. The other element is family. I don’t know a mother alive who could stay calm if her child was threatened in any way.’ The silence was deafening. ‘Sir?’

‘Your instincts do you credit, Kate.’

‘Why? What do you know?’

‘We learned from Bowles that Anne McEvoy’s baby may have survived the attack.’

‘Get out!’

‘Bowles heard it cry, saw Pierrot wrap it in some old clothing. He doesn’t know what happened after that.’

‘That means the child could be nearing thirty. You think McEvoy’s just found out?’

‘It’s still thin, Kate. If the child is alive, are we assuming she found out before or after she began her killing? If it’s after, then something else triggered her revenge.’

‘We’re going around in circles on this, aren’t we?’

‘Yes; however, I think it all has merit. Get on to Tandy and give him all the information we have. Ask whether, in his professional opinion, someone who had suffered this sort of trauma in childhood, survived it, went on to live a seemingly normal life, could then lose the plot thirty years on because of some other trauma. And would such a person be capable of brutal murder?’

‘I’ll call him immediately,’ Kate said.

‘Okay . . . here comes Brodie. The ambulance is here too. I’d better go. For now our priority is Fletcher.’

‘Sir . . . er . . .’

‘What?’

‘There is something else.’

He could hear the hesitation in her voice, the reluctance to say what was on her mind. ‘Go on.’

‘Well, it’s about Sophie, sir.’

Jack took an audible breath. ‘Kate —’

‘Sir, it’s not my intention to meddle in your private life.’

‘Then don’t.’

‘It’s just that I spoke to her earlier.’

‘I did too. I gather you weren’t exactly friendly.’

‘That’s not true, sir. I —’

‘She was trying to find me and you seemed reluctant to help.’

‘Again, not true, sir. I did all I could to help, under the circumstances. Brodie had just got off the phone telling me that you were interviewing Bowles and
couldn’t be interrupted. I offered to take a message. In fact —’

‘Good. What did she say?’ He heard Kate suck back her irritation at being interrupted for the second time.

‘She asked me to tell you that she’d reached Devon, it was cold and rainy and her mother is fine,’ Kate said, her voice terse.

‘Thank you. I already know all of this.’

‘Except —’

‘Except what, Kate?’ Jack’s voice suddenly had a dangerous edge.

He heard her take a breath. ‘Except it’s not raining in Devon today, sir. It’s cold but there’s also a perfectly serene blue sky and sunshine across the whole region. I checked.’

‘You checked?’ His voice had become icy.

‘I — I don’t mean to —’

‘Kate, I have no idea where you think you’re going with this. I shouldn’t have to justify anything to you. Can we leave it that Sophie is in Devon — no matter what the weather — and lunching with her mother at the George in South Molton. They’re having roast of the day if you must know.’

‘Jack, please, I —’

‘You know, Kate, I don’t think we can continue working together. It’s certainly not healthy for you, and I’m finding your interest in my love life dismaying and uncomfortable. I’m really sorry to lose you but I think we should get you reassigned from next week. It will be easier for all of us.’

‘That won’t be nec—’

‘Talk to you later,’ he said, clicking off before Kate could say anything more. He’d had enough of her and
her meddling for today. He dialled Martin Sharpe — in case Kate decided to call back.

In the operations room, Kate stared miserably at the phone. Jack was clearly pissed off with her now. His legendary tolerance and good humour was all spent.

‘I assume that didn’t go well,’ Sarah said, coming over and perching herself on the corner of Kate’s desk.

‘He’s reassigning me next week.’

‘Oh, Kate.’ Sarah paused, waited for Kate to say something, but when she didn’t, she added, ‘I’m so sorry it’s got this far, but what did you expect? I told you not to say anything.’

‘But the facts are there. Something’s wrong, something’s up. I don’t trust her.’

‘You don’t even know her! Why should your boss’s new girlfriend, someone who has never met you, work to gain your trust?’ Sarah asked, incredulous.

Kate shook her head. ‘She’s lying, Sarah.’

‘But what’s it to you whether she’s in Devon or not? That’s DCI Hawksworth’s business. I can’t believe you’d involve yourself in his private life like this.’

Kate wasn’t listening. ‘Something isn’t right here. Why is she lying?’

‘Listen, has it occurred to you that she might be planning a surprise for him? Perhaps she’s deliberately set this up to make him believe that she’s out of town but she’s really at home preparing him a fabulous surprise meal and getting herself gorgeous for a night of hot sex.’

‘No, that’s just it, she’s not. She was guarded. She was too deliberate. I could hear it.’

‘You’re hearing what you want to, Kate. You hate her simply because she’s with him.’

Kate fixed her colleague with a wintry stare. ‘Sarah, you’re not putting this together at all, are you? Jack admits that he only met Sophie very recently. Isn’t that convenient?’

‘For what? For whom?’

‘For the case.’

‘What? How about coincidental?’

‘Alright. What about this? Dan saw a woman coming down from Sophie’s apartment this morning. Even Jack was concerned because their apartments are all security controlled at the lifts.’

‘She had a visitor.’

‘Right, that’s her claim too, but Jack said he left her only this morning, and Dan couldn’t have been that far behind.’

‘What does that prove?’

‘Sophie said the woman was a German friend.’

‘Well, there you are.’

Kate ignored her. ‘She’s lying. I asked her outright whether she’d ever been to Brighton or Hove and she denied it, yet she seemed to know a lot about one of its piers. And now the most damning part — she’s phoning this office from a public phone box in Hove but pretending she’s in Devon. If she’s preparing some great surprise for Jack, then what the hell is she doing at the seaside?’

‘Perhaps she’s going to call him, ask him to spend the weekend there with her. Brighton’s a renowned destination for lovers and affairs — perhaps she’s married, who knows? Either way, none of this is your business.’

Kate gave a sound of exasperation. ‘And none of your alarm bells are going off that Sophie’s in the
Brighton area, not that far from Hastings where we believe Fletcher, the next victim, is?’

Sarah looked back at Kate, totally shocked now. ‘Wait,’ she stammered, ‘you aren’t seriously trying to suggest that DCI Hawksworth’s girlfriend is connected with our case, are you?’

She waited for Kate’s denial. It didn’t come.

‘You are! That’s truly what you’re thinking?’

Kate thought of something, rapidly began dialling.

‘Kate!’ Sarah snapped.

‘Brodie, it’s Kate,’ she said, staring angrily at Sarah. ‘Yep, you obviously moved fast with the media. Is the call for Fletcher already out nationally?’

‘The Super said he’d get the whole of the southeast moving immediately,’ Brodie replied. ‘The rest of the country would take a bit longer. Why?’

‘Nothing important, just wondering. I heard what happened. I’m sorry.’

‘Hawk’s not taking it well.’

‘He’s headed back to London, right?’

‘Yeah, I’m sticking around to oversee this mess.’

‘I’ll call you back, gotta go.’ She put the phone down. ‘Sarah, ring the main radio stations in the west, will you?’

‘I don’t like the sound of where this is headed.’

‘Jack’s always telling us to trust our instincts. Mine are screaming. I have to follow this through. It’s just a few calls.’

Sarah’s expression dissolved from opposition to acceptance. ‘What am I asking?’

‘Whether the bulletin from New Scotland Yard about Edward Fletcher has been aired yet.’