A Perfect Likeness (24 page)

They hugged and both cried. Deckman and Ingles could not help but be moved by the reunion.

Jackie and Michael sat together at the table. He would not let go of her hand and Jackie was happy that he didn’t.

‘Thank you for coming to see me,’ Campbell said to Jackie, ‘and for making it so easy for me. I haven’t slept much since sending you the letter. I have been so worried about it I almost wished I hadn’t sent it. I’m so looking forward to getting out of here and starting …’

‘Michael,’ interrupted Deckman. ‘You’re jumping the gun, it is too soon to be talking like that. We are still investigating and whilst we have a great deal against this lady and her colleagues, I would like to get something concrete to associate her with the murders. I want you to be released because you were innocent and not because your conviction is considered unsafe. As I said last time I came, you are going to have to be patient. I only came here today to let you know that we are still gathering information and to reassure you that you are not forgotten.’

‘Oh, don’t you worry about that, Inspector, I know you will get the evidence you need. I know you will.’ He squeezed Jackie’s hand a little tighter.

‘Michael has become much improved since Miss Lister came to see him,’ said Ingles. ‘In fact, he should not be classified as an ‘at risk’ prisoner now. I understand Michael’s reluctance to mix with other inmates, but he should be moved back to his original prison.’

‘It is important that Michael is kept out of contact with other prisoners,’ said Deckman. ‘We are at a critical stage of the investigation into this group and you never know who has contact with whom. I need another three weeks, Jim, maximum. Can it be arranged?’

‘I’m sure the Governor will agree, leave it with me.’

‘Inspector, I have a question,’ said Campbell, ‘your suspect, I take it you have now seen her? Is she much like Victoria?’

‘Yes, Michael, I have now seen her and yes she is so much like Victoria. It is an incredible likeness, isn’t it Jackie?’

‘Yes, it is.’

‘But believe me,’ continued Deckman, ‘that is where the similarity ends. This lady is very, very dangerous.’

‘How did she know I was not at home at the time? Was she watching us?’

‘She may have been watching, but I suspect she would have called anyway and instead of just Victoria’s death there would also have been yours. Michael, I do believe you are a very fortunate man.’

Michael trembled and shook his head. ‘I don’t consider myself lucky, Sir, not without my Victoria.’

‘I understand. Have you managed to recall any other fragments of information that might help. Anything at all?’

‘No, Sir, I wish I had.’

*

Deckman hadn’t spoken since leaving Nunhouse. Jackie kept glancing sideways willing him to say something to break the silence, but he didn’t.

‘You’re very quiet, Inspector, thinking about things or concentrating on the road?’ asked Jackie, hoping he would not take any anger out on her.

‘Both. Jackie, I have a terrible hatred of visiting prisons and mixing with criminals who have committed evil towards their fellow beings. I also have the greatest admiration for the prison officers who staff these places. They are as much caged in as those locked up. I feel I have a personal responsibility to visit Michael and keep him aware of what is happening because it is as a result of my failure, as Michael clearly indicated at an earlier meeting, that he has spent two years of his life locked up for something he did not do. The system, especially me, has failed a decent citizen and it hurts.’ Deckman’s knuckles turned white as he increased his grip on the steering wheel. The guilt he felt was immense and the only way to overcome this remorse was to get Michael out of prison. Even then he knew the self-reproach would linger throughout the remainder of his career. He resolved that it would never happen again. Every investigation would be carried out with the name of Michael Campbell implanted firmly in his mind.

*

‘Mummy, Mummy, Daddy’s home,’ shouted Richard as he heard his father’s car reversing into the drive. ‘And we’ve eaten all the tea. He’s going to be cross.’

‘Don’t worry, dear, I’m sure we can rustle up something for him,’ comforted Jenny Deckman.

‘Not our fault, Mum, we didn’t know he was coming home so early.’

‘No, son, we didn’t. Don’t worry, I said I’d sort it out.’

‘Hi, gang. What’s for tea, Jens, I’m starving?’ Deckman asked as he kissed his wife and ruffled the hair of his younger son. Elder son, Christopher, just managing to lean far enough away to keep his hair away from a searching hand.

‘Sorry, darling, no tea tonight. The boys have eaten it all.’

‘Mum,’ complained Christopher, ‘you said you would sort it out, not put the blame on us.’

‘Okay you guys,’ said Deckman putting on an angry look, ‘you’ve done it now. You’re both grounded this weekend.’

‘Mum, is Dad serious?’ asked Christopher, ‘he looks real mad and I’ve got football on Sunday, it’s the final.’

‘No, of course not, he’s just teasing. Upstairs, boys, and get your bedroom tidied up and then you can have half an hour with your dad before bed.’

‘Is that right, Dad?’ asked Richard.

‘Of course it is. Now up those stairs and no playing around until the job is done. Properly, okay, because I shall carry out a full inspection.’

‘I knew he was joking,’ said Christopher pushing his younger brother out into the hall.

‘Well you are two years older than me, you should know these things.’

Deckman smiled.

Jenny handed her husband a tumbler of whiskey. ‘Had a good day dear?’

‘Thanks, darling. Could have been worse, but I believe the tide is turning and we are just about getting the upper hand. Michael was looking much better this afternoon and very confident about his release, even though I could not give him the news he’s desperate to hear. I wish I felt as positive as he is.’ He raised his tumbler. ‘Do you think it’s a good idea for me to have one, or more, of these every day? If it gets out people might think I’m addicted to the stuff.’

Jenny Deckman perched herself on the arm of the chair. ‘True, darling, but let’s just consider it a temporary medication for the duration of this investigation. Also, think of your two grandmothers, both ninety something and going strong and both take a daily tipple.’

‘Very true. Maybe, if I stick at two a day, I’ll get to 100.’

‘No more lunchtime drinks for you, Inspector Deckman. You are unbearable now, just think what you would be like if you did reach 100.’

Deckman placed the whisky on the side table and slid his wife on to his lap. ‘Am I really that bad, Jens? I love you so much and it’s only you who can keep me calm when all around me seems to be in total confusion. I know I’ve not been a good husband and father lately, I just hope the kids haven’t been too observant.’

‘Sorry to disappoint you, darling, but Christopher asked what was the matter with you earlier this evening. He said that on the odd times you do play with them you seem to be somewhere else. He asked if you still loved us all and whether you were going to leave us. It seems there are a lot of kids in his class whose mum and dad don’t live together and he’s got it into his head that we are heading in that direction. You are really going to have to work extra hard on the kids when this is over.’

Chapter 19

Deckman’s face remained expressionless as he read
The Argus
headline:

I APOLOGISE, DRAYCLIFFE, I AM NOT THE MURDERER.

The man arrested in the offices of The Argus, after confessing to murdering two women has been released after retracting his confession. His full apology is printed below…

He read no further, he knew what it said. Not only that, it wasn’t important. Nothing was important, not even Michael Campbell’s release. Nothing mattered except what Christopher had said to his mother. It was that which had given Deckman an almost sleepless night. How could he have neglected his family so much as to create that impression in young Christopher’s mind. He had to make sure he corrected his mistake.

The main entrance to the police station was crowded, he chose to use the internal fire escape up to his office, avoiding the admin section and the unwanted familiarities from a number of female staff.

‘Morning, Bob, Colin not about? I expect he’s thinking about his stomach again?’

Kensit jumped to attention. ‘No, Sir. I mean yes, Sir, but he’s gone straight out. To the General Hospital. Surveillance had a problem last night with one of the main suspects who failed to stop at a routine police check-point. Bit of a cock-up, Sir, and the suspect crashed his car. He was on the main dual-carriageway out of Draycliffe when he was waved down by a Traffic team checking for drink-driving. He accelerated, knocking one of the cops off his motorbike in the process and sped off. Our man wasn’t injured and was back on his bike before the surveillance crew arrived on scene. They kept their distance, but the suspect increased his speed until, after only a few minutes, he lost control on a bend, flew over the barrier and down the bank. He came to rest, upside down, against a large oak that had refused to budge.’

‘Did they find anything in the car?’

‘Yes, Sir.’ Kensit lifted a leaf of paper from his desk. ‘A search of the car revealed why it was so important for the driver to avoid the police. They recovered around £40,000 in cash and a packet of cocaine that was still secured under the front passenger seat. By luck Traffic had caught themselves a dealer. By sheer misfortune he was ours.’

‘And Colin?’

‘He’s at the hospital and will give you a call when he gets more information, Sir,’

‘Thanks, Bob, not the best of starts to the day.’

‘No, Sir. I’ll get some coffee on the go.’

‘With arsenic,’ muttered Deckman entering his office and not expecting DC Kensit to hear.

‘Sorry, Sir, didn’t quite get the last bit?’

‘It’s alright, Bob, forget it, I had a bad night.’

Deckman sat with his hands wrapped tightly around his mug, tilting it towards him just enough for him to catch sight of the dark stain for ever creeping higher up the inside.
I must have another go at Bob
, he thought. He was thinking of his family when his mobile phone jerked him away from the castigation he was piling upon himself.

‘Yes, Colin, Bob has briefed me. What good news have you got for me?’

‘Nothing is good about it, Guv. It
is
Alan Grimes, one of the Star Boats team. He’s now out of surgery but has been given little chance of survival. Had it not been for the head injury he could have walked away from the accident. A broken shoulder and a few cuts were the only other injuries. If he should manage to pull through he would have no quality of life as the brain has been too badly damaged. He is now under police guard in an individual intensive care room. His wife and her sister are with him. We have not interviewed her, but I have placed a police presence outside their house in Stawley Park. I’m going to have a word with her in a few moments and then we’ll look over the house. I’ll phone back later, Guv.’

*

Patricia Grimes, accompanied by her sister, were lead into the small meeting room where Fraser and WPC Chalmers were waiting. Fraser introduced himself and apologised for having to talk with her at such a difficult time.

‘It’s alright, Sergeant, a doctor has told me Alan will not be free of the effects of the anaesthetic for a long time yet. I knew you would want to speak with me sooner or later. It might as well be now and I expect you will need to check the house as well?’

‘Patricia, why are you talking like this?’ asked her sister. ‘Are you trying to tell me something? It sounds as though Alan has been involved in some bad things.’

‘Oh, God, I don’t know what to do. Please, Alan, come back to me. Help me, I’m lost without you.’ For the first time since receiving the news, Patricia Grimes let go. She clung to her sister and cried. ‘I’m sorry, Sis, I’m so sorry. You’re going to hate me for what we’ve been doing, but we had no choice.’

‘Yes, we will be checking the house, Mrs Grimes, but are you sure you want your sister with you at this stage. I’m sure we will be speaking about things she may not be aware of.’

Patricia Grimes looked at her sister. ‘She knows nothing about what’s been going on, nothing at all, but I’d like her to stay with me if she will.’

‘Patricia, stop talking in riddles and tell me what on earth is going on?’

‘You’ll find out soon enough, Sis, but you won’t like it.’

‘Mrs Grimes, your husband failed to stop at one of our routine roadside checkpoints. We were looking for those who might have had a drink too many and …’

‘Alan never drunk when he was going to drive,’ interrupted Patricia Grimes.

‘No, Ma’am, we are aware that he hadn’t been drinking. You’re husband accelerated and swerved to avoid the checkpoint knocking a policeman off his motorcycle. He was not injured, I’m pleased to say. Your husband’s car was followed, without making any attempt to overtake him, but he continued to go faster and eventually lost control on a bend, going off the road and down an embankment. When the car was searched a package containing around £40,000 was found in the glove compartment and another with cocaine strapped to the underside of the front passenger seat. Are you aware your husband was involved in drug dealing activities?’