Class Murder Page 27
‘What do you want me to do about it?’ she asked.
‘I was hoping you might go round there and check she’s all right.’
‘Do you have any idea how stretched we are right now? Have you seen what’s going on here? I don’t have time to see my own family. I hardly go home these days. When am I supposed to find the time to visit your sister? Really?’
‘It was just a thought. I wouldn’t ask, but I’m worried about her.’
‘And you can’t go and see her yourself?’
Briefly Geraldine told her former colleague about the hunt for Tim Hathaway.
‘Well, he can’t have just disappeared,’ Sam said.
‘I know.’
‘And once you track him down, you’ll be able to go and see your sister for yourself. I’m sure she’s fine. You’d have heard if there was a problem,’ Sam went on, her initial indignation fading. ‘Look, I’ll call by there later on my way home and let you know how she is.’
Geraldine was almost too overcome to thank her. ‘You know I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t really worried. There’s no one else I can ask. You don’t know how much this means to me.’
‘OK, OK, no need to go overboard. I’m not exactly competing with Mother Teresa here. I just said I’d call by on my way home.’
The police station was a hive of activity when Geraldine arrived, but the mood was not as upbeat as it had been the previous day. A sniffer dog had picked up Tim’s scent by the railway and had tracked him as far as the river where he appeared to have jumped in a boat. The handler had searched for miles along the opposite side of the river and at last the dog had picked up the scent again on the bank. But although they had circled the area, the trail appeared to end there.
‘We’ll have to send a diving team down,’ Eileen barked, her eyes alight with excitement.
‘Let’s hope he’s fallen in and drowned,’ someone said.
‘Drowning’s too good for him,’ Ian grumbled.
There was a murmur of agreement from their colleagues. Given the choice, Geraldine would have preferred to see the killer face trial, but she wouldn’t be sorry to learn he was dead, however it came about. At least if he had drowned he wouldn’t be able to claim any more victims.
‘They used to hang, draw and quarter criminals,’ a middle-aged constable said.
‘The good old days. You remember it well,’ another constable called out and everyone laughed.
That evening Geraldine joined Ian and Naomi and a few of their other colleagues for a drink in the pub in Fulford Road, just a few yards along from the entrance to the police station compound. Everyone seemed relaxed, sipping their pints at the end of a day’s work. Even though the killer was still at large, the general feeling seemed to be that they would soon have him behind bars.
‘It won’t be long now,’ was the phrase her colleagues kept repeating.
Geraldine seemed to be the only one who felt anxious, but she kept her concerns to herself. Ian challenged her about her long face.
‘I’m just thinking I need to phone my sister,’ she replied.
That wasn’t exactly a lie. She was worried about Helena, but she had actually been thinking that a psychopath with a gun could effect a lot of damage in the space of a few minutes. They might catch the killer soon, but possibly not in time to prevent further fatalities.
Ian nodded sympathetically.
‘If she’s anything like my sister, I’m not surprised you’re looking down in the dumps,’ one of the older constables joked.
His remark prompted a spate of terrible quips about siblings that quickly degenerated into even worse jokes about mothers-in-law. Geraldine glanced at Ian wondering if he would be upset by the references, seeing as he was currently going through a messy divorce, but he seemed to revel in the banter and high spirits. Naomi was sitting beside him, laughing heartily. For no particular reason, Geraldine felt a wave of loneliness. She was in cheerful company, but she barely knew most of her colleagues. Ian was the only one she could really call her friend, and he hardly seemed to notice her. Quietly she made her excuses and stood up to leave. She wasn’t sure whether to feel pleased when Ian followed her out on to the street.
‘Geraldine, I wanted to ask you how your sister’s getting on,’ he said as they walked back to the police station car park together.
‘Which one?’ she asked. ‘You know Celia’s pregnant?’
‘No, I didn’t know,’ he answered, although she was sure she had told him. ‘I was asking about your twin, Helena. She’s out of rehab isn’t she?’
‘I think she’s OK, but…’
‘But?’
Geraldine told him she hadn’t been able to get hold of Helena.
Ian frowned. ‘That must be worrying, but it’s only a day since she hasn’t been answering, and she’s probably just forgotten to charge her phone.’
‘Yes, I expect you’re right.’
Geraldine told him that a friend of hers on the Met had promised to look in on Helena that evening, and asked him how his divorce was progressing.
‘Oh God, these things take forever,’ he replied. ‘Even when everyone’s in agreement.’
Before he could say any more, they heard someone calling them. Naomi had followed them out of the pub. She caught up with them just as they entered the car park, and asked if they were going out to eat.
‘I think I’m going to head home,’ Geraldine replied. ‘I’m a bit tired and I’ve got a few calls to make. But it’s a nice idea. Another time.’
‘Sure,’ Naomi said.
Geraldine walked off alone towards her car. She didn’t look back.
When she reached home, she put off calling Sam for as long as she could, first fixing herself some supper and opening a bottle of particularly nice red wine she had bought before the investigation had begun, to celebrate her move – or perhaps to console herself. Sam answered her phone straight away.
‘Hi Geraldine, I was going to call you later. How’s it going?’
‘Fine, I think, but what about Helena? Did you manage to…’
Sam interrupted. ‘Look, I’m sorry, but I just didn’t have time to get round there today. I’ll go along tomorrow without fail.’
After a brief desultory exchange of news on their respective cases, Sam said she had to go. Promising to call Geraldine the following evening, she rang off. With a sigh, Geraldine put her feet up and took a sip of her wine. It didn’t help. Unable to relax, she tried Helena’s phone number again but there was still no answer. Trying to reassure herself that a recovering heroin addict disappearing off the radar wasn’t necessarily a harbinger of bad news, she poured herself another glass of wine.
61
Until the current situation had arisen, the two girls hadn’t seen each other since they left school, so when Leah called Ashley in tears, she was surprised as well as pleased when Ashley offered to come round after work on Friday.
‘We could ask the landlord to change the mattress, if you like,’ Leah suggested, ‘if you feel weird about sleeping in Bethany’s bed, that is. I mean, after what happened.’
Ashley said she was fine with the room as it was. ‘It’s not as if it’s her bed now, is it? And anyway, it’s only until Sunday. I’ve got to be back in time for work first thing Monday morning.’
Leah sighed. Ashley couldn’t have made it clearer that she didn’t intend staying for long, but at least she was going to be there for a couple of nights, which meant that Leah wouldn’t be in the flat on her own. And by Monday, with any luck, the police would have got their act together and caught the killer. If not, Leah would have to try to persuade Ashley to move in with her for longer, although that would be difficult since she worked in York. Leah planned that they would watch a film together and she went out and bought plenty of snacks in readiness. But the visit was not going as she had intended.
‘Are you sure you didn’t imagine it?’ Ashley asked when Leah told her all about her night intruder.
With a loud sniff, Leah wiped a stray tear from her cheek. ‘I appreciate you’re trying to be nice, but that doesn’t make me feel any better.’
‘Well, I don’t know what else you want me to say,’ Ashley replied.
She waved a hand in dismissal as Leah lifted a large bowl of crisps from the table and held it out to her.
‘It’s not as if we know who your intruder was, so I don’t know what we can do about it,’ Ashley said.
Leah popped a crisp in her mouth and crunched miserably. ‘You keep saying “your intruder” as though this was just my problem, but any one of us could be next. You know Robin was sent a threatening letter as well as me, and there could be one on its way to you right now. It might arrive any day. And for all we know Ned might have received one as well. This isn’t just about me. We’ve all got to take it seriously. You can’t just wash your hands of it, because I’m telling you, he might come for any one of us at any time.’ She sniffed again and reached for another crisp. ‘The police are useless. They said they’re going to keep a watch on the flat, but I haven’t seen anyone outside. Did you notice anyone when you arrived?’
Ashley shook her head. ‘You could to go back to them and complain if you’re really worried.’
‘Of course I’m worried. Aren’t you?’
‘Well, I don’t understand what’s going on, so I can’t say.’
Leah shivered. ‘Don’t you get who the intruder was? Do I really have to spell it out for you? It was him, wasn’t it? He killed the others and now he’s coming here to get me. That’s who broke into my flat.’
Glancing up at Ashley to see if she was listening, Leah was gratified to see that her guest finally appeared to be taking her seriously. Staring attentively at her, Ashley sat forward in her chair.
‘Are you sure?’ she asked. ‘The thought had crossed my mind but it seemed so unlikely.’
‘Well, I can’t think who else it could have been.’
‘Do you think he’ll come back here?’
‘Shit, I hope not!’
‘But what if he does?’ Ashley insisted.
‘Well, like I told you, the police are supposed to be keeping a watch on the flat, whatever that means,’ Leah replied. ‘But I haven’t seen anyone outside, and believe me, I looked. In any case, I don’t suppose the police would notice if someone crept into the flat again at night. He’s managed it once without being caught. And we’re supposed to have CCTV here.’
‘Well, you don’t need to worry now I’m here,’ Ashley said.
‘Thank you. I really appreciate that you came.’
Shortly after that Ashley went up to bed, saying that she was too tired to start watching a film; she had been up early in the morning to get to work. Leah lifted the bowl and rested it on her lap so she could lean back comfortably in her chair and pop crisps into her mouth with the minimum effort. After a while she felt her eyes begin to close and her arm dropped by her side. It was still early but she decided to follow Ashley’s example and go to bed. At least she should sleep well, for once, after a week of disturbed nights when she had imagined hearing strange noises in the dark.
Over breakfast the next morning, Leah came to the conclusion that she didn’t really like Ashley very much. She had never realised before how spoilt her old friend was. To begin with Ashley spent ages in the shower, after which she used Leah’s hair dryer without asking if she could borrow it. Then when they were finally able to sit down to breakfast, nothing Leah had in the flat was good enough for her. Ashley refused to eat anything that contained sugar, insisting that she had to watch her figure. So she sat sipping black coffee and watching Leah tuck into a plate of eggs and sausages, making her feel uncomfortable. Just as Leah felt she couldn’t possibly eat any more under her friend’s watchful eye, the bell rang.
Leah went over to the intercom and studied the tiny black and white image of an old man with bent shoulders staring back at her through metal-rimmed spectacles. She had no idea who he was, but she had no qualms about opening the door to so elderly a stranger, especially now Ashley was in the flat with her. He was probably some religious fanatic, but it could do no harm to find out what he wanted.
62
At first light on Saturday morning the divers were in place ready to begin their search. It wasn’t long before they came across a spot on the far side of river where the prow of a boat appeared to have butted up against the mud, suggesting it had probably been powered by an engine. Added to that, the vegetation at the water’s edge had recently been crushed by someone stamping around. Examination of the surrounding area quickly revealed splinters of wood caught in the grass and river weed that could have come from a boat. One relatively large scrap had a fragment of dirty white paint on one side, clearly visible to the naked eye.
‘It looks like he used a boat, at least partially painted white, probably with a motor,’ a scene of crime officer said. ‘That’s how our man got away. But he didn’t get very far,’ he added. ‘So where did he go from here, I wonder?’
The scraps of wood were being collected and bagged up to be taken away for examination under a microscope. All the signs seemed to suggest that a boat had arrived at that point after crossing the river, so it made sense for the divers to begin their search there. It didn’t take them long to discover a small craft lying in the mud on the river bed, the bottom smashed to pieces. In addition to several jagged holes in the wood, when the divers attempted to haul the wreck up to the surface they discovered it had been weighted down with a large rock wedged in the engine. There was no longer any doubt that the boat had been deliberately scuppered.
Ian was already at the scene when Geraldine arrived. She had been talking to Sam when she had received a message about the discovery.
‘I said I’ll try and get round there this weekend,’ Sam had said.
‘Sam, I’m sorry to put this on you, but there’s no way I can get back to London right now. We’re in the middle of an investigation…’
‘You’re not the only person who works,’ Sam had interrupted her, sounding thoroughly exasperated.
‘I know, I know, and I’m sorry. She’s not your sister, I know, but you’re there, in London, and I’m hundreds of miles away. It’s impossible for me to get there.’
It had been an unsatisfactory conversation, made all the more difficult because Geraldine had to end it.
‘I’m sorry, I’ve got to pick up a message.’
‘Oh, it’s different when it’s you that has to work, isn’t it?’
She was afraid she had annoyed Sam so much that she would change her mind about spending time going to check on Helena. Geraldine’s sister wasn’t her responsibility.
Now Geraldine stood at Ian’s side while he brought her up to speed with what was happening. Standing around in the cold and damp did nothing to improve her mood as they watched from behind an inner cordon set up to protect the ground which had been contaminated by the inclement weather and the activities of the diving team. Scene of crime officers were busy photographing footprints and collecting potentially useful fragments. They watched in silence as a white forensic tent was erected over the scene.
‘Better late than never,’ one of the scene of crime officers called out cheerfully. ‘But what with the sleet and you guys trampling all along the path, we’ll be lucky to find any useful evidence out here.’
‘At least we’ve got the boat he used,’ another officer defended their activity.
‘So now we know we’re looking for him on this side of the river?’
‘Unless he doubled back over one of the bridges.’
It could have been because they were working out in the open air, away from the claustrophobic atmosphere of the police station, but somehow they all seemed cheerful. Feeling excluded from
the good-natured banter Geraldine found their camaraderie depressing, but Ian was happy to join in the noisy exchange.
‘So we’ve narrowed the search down to this side of the river, or the other side of the river,’ he said, and the other two men laughed as though he had cracked a good joke.
‘Cheer up, love, it might never happen,’ a white-coated officer said as he passed her.
Geraldine pulled her collar up and sneezed. There wasn’t really any point in her being there. Not so long ago she wouldn’t have missed this for anything, attending a scene where vital clues were being discovered that might lead to the arrest of a dangerous criminal. Glancing up at Ian, she saw the excitement in his eyes and knew that he was caught up in the thrill of the investigation as she would once have been. But it was damp and cold and she wanted to be at home asleep, instead of which she had been dragged out of bed to stand around near a grey river, watching her breath form tiny white clouds, while her feet and hands slowly froze. Maybe she ought to accept that she was burnt out, past her sell-by date, and it was time for her to retire. The thought made her feel like crying. Her job had always been the driving force in her life, but somehow, ever since she had attended her birth mother’s funeral, she had been struggling against an underlying feeling that her existence was no longer merely difficult, it was pointless.
Wrapped in her own misery, she didn’t register straight away that Ian was talking to her.
‘You look half-frozen,’ he said. ‘Not used to the weather up here.’ He grinned at her. ‘You soft southerner.’
Touched that he had noticed her discomfort she smiled back at him, and on the instant, her mood lifted. Cold and tired, she had allowed the weather to get the better of her.
‘You’re right,’ she said. ‘I’m bloody freezing. Look, there’s nothing for us to do here, is there? I mean, you don’t need me around, do you?’