DS Jessica Daniel series: Locked In/Vigilante/The Woman in Black - Books 1-3 (33 page)

‘Wanna come keep me company?’

‘Sorry?’

‘One-time only offer.’

‘Er, yeah, I guess . . .’

The poor guy sounded scared stiff. Jessica gave him her address. ‘Oh and Garry,’ she added. ‘
Don’t
wear the tweed.
Do
bring your notes about Houdini and
do
bring wine.’

She hung up.

Garry Ashford arrived forty-five minutes later with a carrier bag full of notebooks and two bottles of wine; one red, one white. ‘I didn’t know which you preferred,
so bought one of each,’ he said.

‘Actually I usually go for rosé,’ Jessica replied with a wink, taking the bottles from him.

In the time before him arriving, she had phoned up the takeaway a few streets over to order some curries. The first bottle of wine had begun to kick in and she really fancied something hot to go
with it but they hadn’t arrived.

As Garry walked in, Jessica thought he was actually dressed like a functioning member of the human race that evening. He was wearing a pair of regular blue jeans with a red T-shirt. She let him
into the flat and led him into the living room, before leaving one of the bottles of wine off in the kitchen and opening the other. She took an extra glass into the living room and handed it to her
guest, before filling both his and her own.

He was sitting on the sofa and had started taking his notebooks out from the carrier bag. Jessica sat next to him. ‘Christ, Garry, did you make all this effort for me? Your hair looks as
if you’ve only been dragged through a hedge once tonight instead of the usual three or four times.’

Garry smiled. ‘I feel privileged now I’ve finally achieved the Holy Trinity of insults.’

‘Huh?’

‘You’ve now taken the piss out of my name, dress sense and looks.’

Jessica did actually feel a bit bad, realising not everyone would get her sense of humour. ‘Sorry, I was only joking.’

Garry looked at her. ‘It’s all right. At least I don’t look as bad as that photo we used of you on the front page. I mean what kind of crazed woman grins underneath a headline
about a murder?’

Jessica playfully punched him in the shoulder. ‘Oi.’

They both laughed and then Garry asked the obvious question: ‘Why am I here?’

Jessica downed the rest of her glass in one and looked at him. ‘To be honest, I’m not sure. You know they’ve taken the case away, don’t you?’

‘Yes.’

‘I’ve looked over my notes and the files and it’s been in the back of my mind the whole time that I’ve missed something obvious. I guess I just thought . . . I guess
it’s because you’re not police. Before I’m ready to let it go completely I suppose I wondered if you might have picked up something I missed.’

‘I doubt it. I’ve only been following where you lot have been, talking to the same people and so on.’

‘Maybe . . .’

Garry took out his first notebook but as he did the doorbell went.

‘Curry,’ Jessica said.

‘Oh, right.’

‘Don’t worry, I got you something mild and wimpy. I thought it seemed your style.’

Garry shook his head slightly but then answered. ‘Yeah, you’re probably right.’

After Jessica returned with a grease-soaked paper bag and some forks from the kitchen, Garry opened his first notebook. Jessica had a peek at the contents just in case she could make out a name
that could be his source.

The journalist clocked her doing so. ‘Their name isn’t written here, y’know.’

‘Whose?’ Jessica replied with a half-smile.

Garry nodded and started to talk her through some of the people he had spoken to and what they had said. Jessica knew she probably shouldn’t but, given she was now off the case, she filled
in some of the blanks for him. He asked if he could make new notes on what she had told him.

‘Okay, fine,’ she replied. ‘But only because you brought wine.’

They ate as they worked. Jessica had gone for the hottest chicken dish on the menu but Garry struggled with his mild lamb meal. Jessica laughed at him while he told her she stank. It seemed like
a childish insult but was probably true.

The journalist spoke about Stephanie and Ray Wilson and how Stephanie hadn’t had too much to say but had genuinely seemed disturbed by the loss of her friend. He said the husband had
phoned the paper every day for the week afterwards to remind them he and his wife were available for photographs if the paper needed them.

As he got to his notes about the meeting with Jessica herself, he veered off to tell her about the pressures he was under and how his career hadn’t turned out the way he had hoped. He
talked about his editor and how sales were affecting all of the staff. Until the last few weeks, he had been thinking of quitting and would have done already if it wasn’t for the money.

‘What else would you do?’ Jessica asked.

‘I don’t know really. Write? I have no idea. It’s not easy to just drop everything. You don’t want to end up going back to your parents to admit you’ve made a right
mess, do you?’

Jessica couldn’t disagree with that.

Garry told her about his meeting with Marie Hall and the way he had been bullied into buying a host of drinks to get any details about Wayne Lapham. Jessica admitted she hadn’t known who
the woman was before but laughed at Garry’s pub story. Then they both dissolved into giggles when he spoke about the dressing gown the woman had been wearing.

‘Was it peach?’ Jessica asked.

‘Eew, yes. She hadn’t fastened it completely either.’

‘Oh God, you couldn’t see . . .’ Garry didn’t answer but the look on his face made Jessica explode with laughter. She went to put the empty food cartons in the kitchen
and get the other bottle of wine Garry had brought. By now she was feeling decidedly tipsy but refilled both of their glasses and let the journalist continue.

‘Then I finally ended up speaking to you,’ he said, flicking through pages and pages of notes. ‘You were very, erm . . . revealing.’

Jessica felt a bit embarrassed remembering her phone confessions to him. ‘You took advantage of a distressed young woman, Garry. You should feel ashamed of yourself.’

‘Young?’

‘Oi, you cheeky . . .’ For the second time that evening Jessica playfully punched her guest in the shoulder. ‘How did you end up talking to Kim Hogan?’ she asked as Garry
opened another notebook.

‘It was an accident. I was at the house talking to the neighbour who was spilling everything. The other girl stormed up and started swearing at the both of us.’ Jessica thought that
sounded familiar. ‘Anyway, I said that she could put her own version across if she wanted. She asked if there was money involved . . .’

‘Really?’ Jessica interrupted.

‘Yeah. Sometimes people are like that, no matter what the circumstances.’

‘Did you pay her?’

‘I gave her twenty quid. It was all I had on me. I ended up walking back to the office because I didn’t have anything left for the bus.’

‘Doesn’t the paper pay for things like that?’

‘You must be joking. You’re lucky if they pay for notebooks and pens.’

‘What was she like?’

‘I’ve had worse interviews but not many. She was okay really but it was hard for her. There was just lots of swearing. She hates your lot and kept going on about kids bugging her mum
and how you never did anything.’

‘What about Paul Keegan?’

Garry let out a massive sigh. ‘It was horrible. I didn’t want to knock on his door but the editor basically told me to do it. I thought the guy would tell me to get lost but instead
he invited me in and went to put the kettle on. It was surreal.’

Jessica had thought that the whole time she had spoken to Paul Keegan. She could see that inside his heart was broken but outside he was almost normal. Some people in the force would see that
type of behaviour as how guilty people acted. She just thought everyone was different but did wonder how he was really coping behind closed doors, especially with what had happened regarding his
stepson.

‘He talked and talked,’ Garry added. ‘He said they had only been married a few years ago. He showed me all the photos and told me everything that ended up in the article. He
was a really nice guy and told me to call back if I wanted to check anything, He phoned on the day of the article to say “thanks”. He said he was going to keep the paper and reckoned it
was a perfect tribute to her.’

‘Poor guy.’

‘I know. I felt so sorry for him. You don’t know what to say, do you? He said they’d had problems with kids in the area but he thought your lot had done your best. Bit of a
difference to Kim and Marie.’

Garry gave a small laugh but Jessica didn’t. ‘Hmmm,’ she said.

‘You all right?’

‘Yeah, just too much of this,’ she said holding up an empty glass. ‘Shall we call it a night? I’ll even pay for your taxi.’

‘It’s okay. I reckon I’ll get another story out of the bits you’ve told me. “Senior source”, yeah?’

‘Source.’

‘Whatever.’

Garry packed his things back into his bag and gave a little wobble as he stood up. Jessica could feel the alcohol inside her too. She walked him to the door and found herself giving him a little
hug as they said goodbye. She thought his cheeks had reddened slightly afterwards but it could have been the booze for him too.

‘Thanks for your help tonight, Garry.’

‘No worries, Det . . . Jess.’

‘Good night.’ Jessica closed the door but instantly took her phone out and typed a reminder into the calendar for the next morning. It was probably nothing and possibly just the wine
doing her thinking but she’d had an idea and didn’t want to forget it when she woke up.

Jessica had never had big hangovers in her life. There was always the odd morning after when Caroline had been at university and the two of them had gone out but nothing crazy
and she had never lost days or anything silly like some of the stories people could tell.

She woke up on the Saturday morning with an aching neck, a world-class headache and the distinct taste of last night’s curry in her mouth. The room was ridiculously bright and she again
cursed herself for not contacting the landlord. She fumbled her way out of the cocoon she had made of her duvet and realised she was still wearing the clothes she’d had on the whole of the
previous day and evening. Craving water, she staggered out of her bedroom and made her way groggily towards the kitchen.

‘Caroline?’

She hadn’t heard her friend and Randall come in the previous night but, considering how much she had drunk, that was no particular surprise. There wasn’t any answer anyway, so
presumably the two of them had stopped the night at the new flat.

Jessica turned on the sink’s tap and almost hypnotically watched the water gush out and hold her attention. Vague memories of her chat with Garry the previous evening came flooding back.
Had she hugged him? She saw the three empty bottles of wine next to the bin.

She shook her head and snapped her gaze away from the water, snatching a glass from the draining board and filling it up. She downed the whole glass in one and filled it back up again. After
that, she hunted around in the drawer under the sink for some aspirin and took three along with another full glass of water. She was pretty sure the recommended dose was two tablets but that was
surely for a standard headache?

Regardless, she fumbled her way back to bed and lay down. The ceiling was still spinning but not too badly and she could hear a buzzing noise from somewhere. She looked from one side of the bed
to the other, confused by the sound, before realising it was coming from her phone, which was face down on the nightstand. Her head had started to clear slightly but she still struggled to pick her
phone up, unable to figure out what the specific tone was. It was definitely a different noise to her alarm and text message sounds. Her fingers didn’t seem to want to do what her brain was
willing them to but she eventually managed to unlock the screen and saw there was a calendar alert and a separate text message.

She read the text first: it was from Caroline.

‘Been called into work CU later. X’

Jessica then pressed the button to read the note she had left herself the previous evening.

It may have been the ramblings of a drunk woman but she had nothing better to do – as soon as she’d had a shower, Jessica resolved to follow the note up, even if she did end up
looking stupid.

‘Sorry, who are you?’

Jessica was listening to an irate voice from the other end of her phone.

‘Kim, it’s Detective Sergeant Daniel. We spoke at the station. Do you remember?’

‘What do
you
want?’ Kim Hogan’s tone didn’t indicate she was overly receptive to being called by a member of the police.

‘I just wanted to clarify a point or two with you if that’s all right?’

‘I read yesterday your lot had been booted off the case or something like that. Some super cop people brought in to clean up your mess and find that Collins psycho.’

‘That’s not really true, Kim.’ Jessica realised that in essence it actually was correct but she still wanted the girl to answer one question.

‘What do you want? I told you everything last time.’

‘I want to check one thing with you.’

‘Fine. Just get on with it.’

‘You know when you told me we hadn’t done much about kids harassing your mum, what did you mean?’

‘Well, you didn’t, did you? Your lot wouldn’t even come out.’

‘To what, though, Kim?’

‘It doesn’t matter now, does it?’

Jessica was already feeling exasperated and glad she hadn’t gone to see the girl in person, as had been her original plan. She’d had to phone the station and ask for a favour on the
quiet to get someone to pass Kim’s contact details on to her. There were a few people she trusted to keep something like that under the radar.

‘I’m not trying to trip you up, Kim. I just want to make sure we’ve checked all angles.’

‘Fine. Look, it went on for a while. There was always kids knocking on the door and running and all that and harassing her on the street. But then one of them put glue in the front-door
lock one night. We had to climb out the window. Your lot hadn’t done anything before and were always hassling Mum on the street so she couldn’t be bothered. She just got . . . someone
she knew to fix things.’