The Bad Things (21 page)

‘Not here, Carly,’ he muttered in a low voice, but not so low that Alex couldn’t hear.

She wondered if they had slept together and wished she’d had that talk with Gus that every parent avoids. But how could she have known? Ten minutes ago he was playing football with his mates. Five minutes ago he was in trouble for drugs and joyriding. So she should be grateful his tastes had taken a more mature turn. She should like this child-woman for his sake.

And she bloody well hoped she was sixteen.

So Alex swallowed her jealousy and laughed. ‘Come on you two, hurry up and eat and then we’ll make tracks, okay?’ She went over to her handbag, opened her purse and took out a tenner. ‘Here,’ she said, putting it on the worktop in front of Gus. ‘Have this on me. I know it won’t pay for everything, but it’ll go some way towards the tickets.’

‘Thanks, Mum,’ he said.

‘Yes, thanks, Alex.’ This time Carly’s smile was warm, as though she knew she had won the battle.

21

‘So, let me get this straight.’ Cherry leaned back in his chair, lacing his fingers over his stomach. ‘You don’t know who murdered Jackie Wood, why she was murdered, or when she was murdered? Is that about the nub of it? The gist of it, as it were?’

Kate tried not to shift in her seat. She wanted to appear as though she was in full control. No, scrap that, she didn’t want to
appear
in control, she
was
in control. She tried not to look at her watch. It was late and her feet hurt. She just wanted to get home to Chris and a fire and to curling up in front of the television. But she had been called back to Ipswich by Cherry and knew that such a summons did not bode well.

‘We know she was stabbed somewhere around midnight, but otherwise no breakthrough yet, sir. We’re sifting through the phone calls we received after the press conference and we’re hopeful we’ll get some leads. We’ve also had a good response on Facebook.’ She crossed her fingers out of sight of Cherry.

‘Facebook. I think it’s the only time people like us, isn’t it, Detective Inspector?’ He chuckled at his own joke, then became sombre again. ‘Hopeful is not really good enough, though, is it?’

‘No sir.’

‘No. And the door knocking? I hear you went out and about with DCs Maitland and Evans.’

‘I did, sir, and we’re checking out a couple of leads from that.’

‘I see. Slow progress.’

Kate gritted her teeth, determined not to let him get to her. ‘Not slow, steady.’

‘Hmm.’

Hmm, what did that mean? She did so dislike it when people chuntered an indeterminate word leaving their audience – her – in the dark.

‘Meanwhile we have the press baying at our backs wanting to know why the woman was there in the first place. Why she was on our manor at all.’ Cherry loved to use words like ‘manor’; he probably thought it gave him some sort of street credibility.

‘I dealt with the press conference, sir,’ she said, knowing she had to be firm. ‘I gave them enough information to keep them happy without giving too much away. It’s essential to keep them onside. Sir.’

‘Indeed. What do you think of my new painting, by the way? It’s called
Rendlesham at Rest
.’ He waved towards a canvas of a green mess that looked as though it’d had paint thrown at it – which was probably exactly what had happened.

Kate eyed it gravely. ‘Very nice, sir.’

Cherry clicked the roof of his mouth with his tongue. ‘Nice isn’t quite the word I was looking for. Next you’ll be telling me that you know what you like as far as art is concerned.’

‘I do though, sir.’

Cherry leaned forward, his stomach grazing the edge of the desk. ‘But that sort of attitude doesn’t show true appreciation and understanding of art, does it?’

‘I suppose not, but it’s the best I can do. And I think
Rendlesham at Rest
is a brilliant interpretation of the landscape.’ It was one of the most beautiful areas of Suffolk – with not only the forest but also the heathland and wetlands and its UFO trail – so to see it boiled down to a green splodge on canvas was a bit depressing. That was her actual opinion, but she wasn’t going to tell Cherry that. ‘And more a portrait of a place than a landscape.’

Cherry looked delighted. ‘Splendid. We’ll make an art critic of you yet. Now, back to the lamentable press conference, and Helen.’

At least she’d got away with being an art critic. ‘I did what I thought was right as regards the press conference. And the press officer, Helen, is really only there to advise me and quite honestly hasn’t got a bloody clue how the press work.’

‘But you don’t take her advice, do you? She tells you to go easy, answer as few questions as possible, and you get rings run round you by the BBC, ITV, Sky, et al.’

Kate bristled. ‘I think that’s a bit unfair, sir.’

He sighed as though he hadn’t heard her. ‘The powers that be were not at all happy about what came out during the conference. Not pleased at all.’

‘What weren’t they pleased with? Sir.’ At some point Cherry was going to notice her insubordination and haul her over the carpet, or give her a ticket to his forthcoming exhibition.

‘What you must realize, Detective Inspector, is that we were put in a very difficult situation when Jackie Wood came back to these environs—’

‘I do understand that—’

Cherry held up his hand. ‘Allow me to speak. And it needs careful handling.’

Kate resisted the temptation to sound sarcastic. ‘I appreciate it needs careful handling, and whatever Helen says, I did a more than competent job at the press conference. And, as I said, we’ve got a couple of excellent leads.’

He leaned forward, and Kate could smell the coffee on his breath. ‘Don’t get distracted by the journalists.’

She folded her hand in her lap. ‘What do you mean, sir?’

‘I mean we are dealing with the murder of Jackie Wood, we are not looking at any past history.’

‘I don’t understand.’ She was going to make him say it; say that they were asking about Martin Jessop’s lover, because lurking in the back of her mind was Steve telling her about Jez being able to shut the investigation down with the collusion of a senior officer.

His lips became a thin line and Kate could hear the hum of the computer on his desk.

‘Don’t take me for a fool, Detective Inspector. I am not a fool.’

The hum became louder. Kate looked him straight in the eyes. ‘I don’t, sir.’

‘Good. I’m glad we’re both singing from the same hymn sheet. You’ve spoken to Alex Devlin?’

‘I have.’

‘I remember her as quite a composed young woman.’

Kate looked at him. He was a wily old fox, and certainly was no fool. ‘She was quite shaken up at having found the body.’

‘Is she a suspect?’

‘Everyone’s a suspect, sir. Including Malone, the man she was with, though we’re still waiting for him to come down to the station for DNA and fingerprints.’

‘But there’s no suggestion he was there at the time?’

‘No,’ Kate admitted. ‘And his alibis check out so we don’t have any reason to bring him in. But—’

‘But what?’

‘Malone, sir.’

‘What about him?’

‘I don’t trust him.’

Cherry looked at her. ‘That’s a shame. You’re supposed to be able to trust him.’

‘What does that mean?’

He leaned forward. ‘I would try and leave him out of this as far as you can, that’s all.’

Kate nodded, her suspicions about Malone and his undercover persona confirmed. ‘As far as I can. But if it turns out he is involved with Jackie Wood’s murder in any way, then I’m afraid—’

‘The law must take its course?’

‘Yes,’ she said firmly.

‘Hmm.’

She didn’t like that ‘hmm’. She cleared her throat. ‘Any more news about Mr and Mrs Williams? And the…er…raid?’

He knitted his fingers together. ‘Not yet, Detective Inspector. We have had a letter from their lawyers complaining about half-arsed amateurs – my words, not theirs’. He smiled; the old sod was enjoying her discomfort. ‘But we are still hopeful we can draw some sort of line underneath the whole sorry business without it reaching the ears of our dear colleagues who uphold truth and freedom in our country.’

‘I’m sorry sir?’

‘Tut, tut, Kate, you’ll have to be quicker than that. I’m talking about the parasites that stalk this land.’

‘Right. The press.’

‘I was thinking more of our dearly loved politicians. But the press also. So let’s try and keep your name off their front pages shall we? Especially if it is to do with that abortive raid.’

‘Yes sir.’

‘Good. Now I have something else to ask of you, Kate.’

He was back to calling her Kate. That was something, at least. She allowed herself to relax for a moment.

‘Sir?’

‘I know you are the main officer on the Jackie Wood case—’

‘Though you are the Senior Investigating Officer.’

‘Indeed, Kate. It’s a high profile case, needs a high-ranking police officer.’

‘Right. Sir.’ Kate knew she would be doing most of the legwork, the investigating. Cherry was there to take the glory.

‘But,’ he continued, ‘I have an officer transferring up from the Met. He was on one of their MITs and I think he could be of use to you.’

Something leaden settled in her chest. If there was one thing she hated, it was having to work closely with someone else, particularly someone who had no experience. Particularly on this case, even though she knew she was getting too close to it.

Cherry must have been reading her mind. ‘In fact, I did do battle with myself, wondering whether or not to take you off this case, Kate—’

She sat up even straighter. No, no, he couldn’t do that. It wouldn’t be fair. Not after all the work she had put in.

‘But I decided it wouldn’t be fair, not after all the work you had put in, so I would ask that you work with DI Glithro. I think it could be a very satisfactory outcome for all concerned.’ He leaned back in his chair looking very satisfied with himself.

Buggering bloody hell. DI Glithro. His reputation had preceded him to Suffolk. Old school. Unreconstructed. Tough. Unsympathetic. Kate truly believed that, whatever Jackie Wood had done in the past, she deserved justice for what had happened to her now. Was Glithro the man to help do that? Would he just want to get the job done, not look any deeper, not want to look into the possibility Martin Jessop might have had a second mistress?

‘Kate, we really can’t get fixated on something that happened more than a decade ago.’ He held up his hand, as Kate opened her mouth to speak. ‘And I know that the presser threw up the possibility of there being another person of interest, someone who may or may not have had a bearing on the original case, but I cannot let that distract me from the job in hand, can I, Kate? And, quite frankly, we haven’t got the budget or the manpower to chase after dandelion heads.’

‘Sir, I believe I’m doing a good job on the murder investigation and I feel I don’t need help. Perhaps DI Glithro could help someone else?’

He looked at her. ‘I remember your involvement, you know.’

‘Right.’ Now what was coming?

‘It’s never easy finding the body of a child, particularly in such a high-profile case, as it was at the time, and still is.’ His voice was gentle. ‘I think you might be influenced by that involvement and we should let Glithro cast an eye over the case. Be another pair of eyes and ears for you. Another point of view, perhaps?’

‘I’m not influenced by my involvement, as you call it, sir.’ She refused to think about Chris, about the pills in the back of her cupboard. ‘It was fifteen years ago and I’ve handled worse cases since.’

‘Really? Discovering a dead body can stay with you. It can seep into your soul and become a part of you.’

‘I understand that, but what about the press? I’ve heard he’s terrible with them, got no idea how to handle the modern media. Apparently, if you talk to him about Facebook or Twitter he thinks you’re talking about a new band.’

‘I’m sure Helen will be able to keep him on the straight and narrow.’

Kate wanted to bang the table in front of Cherry. ‘Helen knows bugger all. She’d cancel all conferences if she had her way. She likes to treat journalists like mushrooms.’

‘Mushrooms?’

‘Yes, you know, keep them in the dark and throw shit at them.’

His mouth twitched. ‘I must remember that one. But I’m not suggesting he take over the case, just be a sounding board for you. Obviously, you will still deal with the day-to-day investigation, the press et cetera, et cetera. You will be the eyes and ears of the operation. As SIO I am in overall charge. And I am expecting results, Kate, you know that?’ He beamed. ‘I think we’ve sorted that one now, haven’t we Kate?’

Her shoulders slumped. ‘Yes sir.’ Oh God, could things get any worse?

They could.

‘Good. Now then, on another matter, I am putting on an exhibition of my paintings and will be inviting a few of my senior colleagues to its opening. I look forward to seeing you there.’

‘Right,’ said Kate, knowing very definitely she would prefer carpet burns to paintings.

22

Alex had dropped the teenagers off at the railway station and was now driving into the village of Harpen, wondering what the hell she was doing. The whole journey, along the dull A roads, watching the countryside becoming flat and more windswept, passed in a dream, and she was almost hypnotized by the steady back and forth of the windscreen wipers. She couldn’t believe she was actually doing this, and she had no real plan for when she got there, particularly if it did turn out that Martin’s wife and family still lived in the same house. But the chances of that had to be minimal, surely? The house must have been besieged by reporters, television crews; ghouls who wanted to see where a murderer would live.

On the other hand, it was a small village and could have rallied round, protecting Martin’s wife from people who wanted a piece of her and her family. Maybe she would have stayed because it was somewhere she felt safe. And her children had been teenagers. Maybe she would have wanted to keep them somewhere they knew and with their friends, rather than uprooting them to a place that was unfamiliar. Less disruptive. All these thoughts were milling around in her head until she didn’t know what to think any more.