Unnatural Wastage (30 page)

‘Doctor Ellerman,' Rathbone began after the formalities in the interview room were complete, ‘as you are aware, in the course of our enquiries certain items have been removed from your flat for examination. I have a list of those items here and I believe you have a receipt for all of them.' He waited for a moment but Ellerman's only response was a slight tilt of the head that seemed to say, ‘So what?'

‘Among those items,' Rathbone continued, ‘was this.' He lifted the sheet of paper that had been covering the carved box.

Ellerman gave a start and put both hands to his eyes. He was plainly moved. ‘You had no right to touch that,' he said shakily. ‘It was Julie's . . . it's private, a present from me that I bought for her in India. She called it her treasure box.'

‘Doctor Ellerman,' said Sukey in response to a glance from Rathbone, ‘we know that you loved Julie very much and we understand that you are still grieving for her, but we have a job to do and we believe that one of the items in this box may help us. It is even possible that it may help you.'

He raised his head. ‘Help me?' He gave a short ironic laugh. ‘Why would you want to help me?'

‘Our only concern is to establish the truth,' said Rathbone. ‘Two women have been murdered and we believe there may be a link between the two crimes. All the evidence we have so far points to you. You continue to maintain your innocence, so it's in your interest to answer our questions, however painful they may be.'

Ellerman lowered his hands and raised his head. ‘I understand,' he said. ‘What do you want to know?'

‘Among some personal items in the box my constables found this diary.' Rathbone held it up and Ellerman reached out as if to snatch it away, but restrained himself. ‘Do you recognize it?'

‘Of course I do. It was Julie's. I saw her writing in it once or twice.'

‘Have you read it?'

‘Certainly not! It was private; I wouldn't have dreamed of it.'

‘Then allow me to quote an entry which we think significant.' Rathbone read out the relevant passage. ‘Does that mean anything to you?'

Ellerman nodded. ‘Oh yes, she told me about Jay,' he said with a slightly condescending smile. ‘She spoke very warmly of him . . . said he'd been very good to her after her parents died. She said he was a widower and she felt sorry for him because he was lonely. He actually asked her to marry him, but she thought he was probably looking for someone to look after him in his old age.'

‘Did she mention his name?'

Ellerman shook his head. ‘She refused to tell me who he was. I asked her why the secrecy and she said something about not wanting to cause embarrassment.'

‘Embarrassment to whom?' asked Vicky.

He shook his head. ‘She wouldn't say. I'm sorry, that's all I can tell you. I understand I'm being granted bail again. When will I be free to go?'

‘As soon as the formalities are completed,' said Rathbone. Sukey noticed that his manner towards Ellerman had become slightly less aggressive. Back in the CID office he found a message asking him to call Sergeant Rook at a police station in Hackney. After making the call he said, ‘They're pretty sure from the artist's impression that the dead woman is Aggie,' he said.

‘Does that mean they've managed to contact her family?' asked Sukey.

‘Not exactly. They heard from some neighbours with a daughter who used to be at school with Aggie and seemed pretty sure she's the woman in the picture. Anyway, this neighbour – a Mr Singh – went to the police station and said he'd called on Aggie's family to show them the picture. He spoke to the father who said that as far as he and the rest of the family were concerned their daughter had been dead from the time she left home. They didn't say in so many words that they thought of her as no better than a prostitute, but Mr Singh told Sergeant Rook that's the impression he got from the father's attitude.'

‘Charming,' Vicky commented. ‘So where does that leave us?'

‘In the absence of an ID from a family member, I guess we'll have to rely on one of our other witnesses,' said Rathbone. ‘As she was RC, Father Burke is probably the most appropriate. You'd better go and see him ASAP.'

Fortunately, Father Burke was at home when Sukey called. As soon as they explained the situation he agreed to meet her and Vicky at the morgue. When the attendant drew back the sheet to reveal the murdered girl's face, he nodded and said sadly, ‘That is without doubt the young woman who used to attend my church. Will you allow me to spend a few moments alone with her?'

They withdrew a short distance. He appeared to be praying; after a few minutes he made the sign of the cross and then rejoined them. ‘When will you be able to release her body for burial so that I can make arrangements for her funeral?' he asked.

‘Probably quite soon,' said Sukey. ‘We'll let you know . . . and perhaps you'd let us know the date of the funeral. I'd like to be there if possible.'

‘Me too,' said Vicky.

‘Of course,' he replied, evidently touched by their concern.

When they returned to headquarters. Mike and Tim were seated at a desk with Ellerman's laptop in front of them. On seeing them approach, Mike sat back and flexed his arms and shoulders. ‘Any luck with that?' asked Sukey.

He shook his head. ‘Nothing in the least bit iffy so far.'

‘He comes across as very businesslike and methodical,' said Tim. He too sat back and linked his hands behind his head. ‘How did the reverend react to your request?'

‘He met us at the morgue,' Vicky told him. ‘He said the dead woman is Aggie – that is, he's certain she's the one who worshipped in his church, which confirms what Minnie told us. Short of a family member coming to see the body, that's probably the nearest to an ID that we'll get.'

‘At least she'll get a Christian burial,' said Sukey. ‘I'm sure that would mean a lot to her.'

‘We've heard from Mrs Shilling, by the way,' said Mike. ‘She's pretty sure from the artist's impression that it's Aggie.'

Rathbone appeared with a mug of coffee in his hand. He listened to their reports and checked his watch. ‘Just gone five o'clock,' he said. ‘Ellerman's on his way home and there's nothing more we can do this evening so the SIO says we can push off. We can all do with an early night for a change.'

As Sukey was getting into her car a series of bleeps from her mobile indicated the arrival of a text. It was from Harry and read: ‘When are you home? Urgent see you.' She keyed in: ‘On way now' before starting the engine. As she drove home various possibilities ran through her head. Had he been doing some of his famous ferreting around and come up with a vital piece of information? Probably not, if he had he'd have said so, she thought as she waited at the traffic lights in Whiteladies Road. ‘It's more likely you're out to try and pump something out of me,' she found herself saying aloud. ‘Well, tough; you'll have to wait for tomorrow's statement.'

She had barely had time to park her car and switch off the engine before he arrived. She could tell by his manner that he had something to tell her. ‘What's the urgency?' she demanded as she dumped her bag and slid off her jacket. ‘Have you solved the case for us . . . or is it just that you couldn't wait to see me? No, it isn't that,' she added, pretending to take offence. ‘You haven't even kissed me.'

‘Sorry, love.' He gave her a quick embrace. ‘I've just had a text from a mate of mine in London who has a contact with the police in Hackney. Ah, I see that rings a bell,' he added as she shot him a keen look.

She was at the sink, filling the kettle. ‘Want a cuppa?'

‘In a minute. This is exciting. That artist's impression you gave us of the Fiddler's Patch victim has been publicized ­nationally and Dave says someone in Hackney has identified her.'

‘I'm listening. Go on.'

‘Dave couldn't get a name, but his contact dropped a hint that led him to a certain street. He went there and hung around for a while. There were a few people in a huddle talking among themselves but as soon as he approached they shut up and wouldn't say a word.' Harry stood behind her, put his arms round her and nibbled her ear. ‘If you'll tell me a bit more I promise to keep quiet until you say it's OK to release it.'

‘Release what?' She moved away and reached for the teapot. ‘You've been doing all the talking.'

‘And you haven't shown any excitement so what I've just said obviously isn't a revelation. Oh come on, love,' he wheedled. ‘I'll lie awake all night trying to fill in the gaps if you won't tell me anything.'

‘All right.' She made a pot of tea and reached for some mugs. ‘I can confirm that someone claims to know who she is and we have reason to believe them. We've had additional information and there'll be a statement to the press in the morning. And that's positively all you're going to get out of me.' She put two mugs of tea on the table and sat down.

‘No hint of the source of the additional information?' Harry said hopefully.

‘Not so much as a sniff of it.'

‘I might have known. Anyway, it was an excuse to come and see you and –' he checked the time – ‘it's still quite early so let's go out somewhere for a meal. That Spanish place we went to a few weeks ago was very good. How about going there?'

‘That's a great idea,' she said.

‘We'll take a cab so we can both have a drink.'

Later, when the taxi dropped them at Sukey's front door, they stood for several moments quietly holding one another. After a while she said, ‘Do you want to come in?'

He took her key and opened the door. ‘I thought you'd never ask,' he said.

‘Y
ou're looking pleased with life,' Vicky remarked to Sukey as they reassembled in the CID office the following morning. ‘Did you have a good evening?'

‘Great,' Sukey replied. ‘Harry took me out for a meal; it made a change after all the overtime.'

‘It must have been a super menu to put that sparkle in your eyes,' said Vicky, inviting further details with a lift of one eyebrow which Sukey chose to ignore.

‘Right troops, no time for gossiping.' Rathbone summoned the team into his office. ‘DCI Leach wants us to find the mysterious Jay and our only clue to his identity is that Julie refused to tell Ellerman his name on the grounds that it would be “too embarrassing”. Let's do a spot of brainstorming; what sort of situation between a young woman and an elderly widower is likely to be considered embarrassing?'

‘Jay was a mutual acquaintance?' suggested Mike. ‘One of his colleagues, perhaps.'

‘They'd all be too young,' Tim objected. ‘Do we know how and where Ellerman met Julie? Perhaps Jay introduced them.'

‘Unlikely,' said Rathbone. ‘If Jay thought so much of Julie and considered Ellerman to be a bad lot, he'd hardly have thrown them together.'

‘I suppose not.'

There was a silence, interrupted by one of the civilian workers in the general office. ‘There's a woman in reception, Sarge, who's asking to speak urgently with the officer in charge of the Fiddler's Patch murder. She says she has some information about the victim.'

‘
Has
she?' said Rathbone. ‘That sounds promising; fingers crossed everyone. I'll see her in here; Sukey, you stay and take her statement and the rest of you go back and carry on flogging your brains. If it's anything significant I'll let you know.'

Sukey judged the age of the woman who was ushered into Rathbone's office to be about fifty; she had fluffy grey hair and was wearing a lilac trouser suit. She was obviously ill at ease; she perched on the edge of the chair Rathbone indicated and clutched her handbag to her chest as if fearing it would be taken from her and searched.

‘Thank you for coming to see us,' Rathbone began and she gave a slight nod. ‘I am Detective Sergeant Rathbone and this is Detective Constable Reynolds. Now, I understand you are Mrs Elsie Maynard, that you are an employee of the Clean as a Whistle agency and that you believe you have some important information about the victim of the Fiddler's Patch murder.'

‘That's right,' she said in a tremulous voice. ‘I feel simply awful about not coming to tell you before, but I've been away you see and I've only just found out about poor Aggie . . . oh, I do hope I'm not too late . . . supposing he's done it again and the body hasn't been found yet? Such a nice gentleman, who'd have thought he'd do such a terrible thing?'

‘Mrs Maynard,' said Rathbone, ‘we do not believe Aggie was the victim of a serial killer, so please relax. Before we go any further, perhaps you'd like a cup of tea or coffee?'

The surprise in her smile made it clear that this was the last thing she expected. ‘Oh . . . yes, a cup of coffee would be lovely.'

‘Milk and sugar?'

‘No sugar, thank you.'

He ordered coffee for the three of them. When they were settled and Mrs Maynard appeared less tense, he said, ‘Just take your time and tell us in your own words exactly what you know.'

‘Well,' she began, speaking slowly at first and then more quickly as her story proceeded. ‘I saw her picture in a back number of the
Echo
when I got back from Italy yesterday evening and my first thought was “Poor Aggie” and my next was “Oh my God, that could have been me!” It was my regular day to clean for him you see, but I couldn't do it because my flight was changed at the last minute and so I asked Aggie . . .' Her voice trailed away; she fished in her handbag for a tissue and dabbed her eyes. ‘I knew she didn't like working in the afternoon,' she went on, ‘but I thought “maybe just this once she won't mind and anyway I did her a similar favour a week or two ago”. It didn't even enter my head that he'd be there . . . he isn't usually . . . and now she's dead and it could have been me . . . and I'm so afraid you'll find he's murdered another poor woman and if I'd told you before I could have stopped him. I feel so guilty.' Her shoulders sagged and she scrubbed her eyes with the tissue.