DS Jessica Daniel series: Locked In/Vigilante/The Woman in Black - Books 1-3 (85 page)

Before Caroline could ask any further questions there was the sound of the front door opening and a man’s voice saying, ‘Hello’. Caroline called out, ‘In here’ and
her fiancé walked into the kitchen.

‘Hey, hon,’ he said.

‘All right?’ Caroline replied.

‘I was talking to your bridesmaid,’ he said with a wink.

Jessica had first been introduced to him by his full name, Thomas Bateman. While the two women were both in their early thirties, Tom was in his early forties. The only thing that gave away his
age was his greying hair. He was fit and athletic with a grin that made him look years younger. Caroline had always gone for younger men and this was the first time Jessica had known her go out
with anyone older.

He leant in and kissed her on the cheek. ‘Nice to meet you again, Jessica,’ he said.

Jessica smiled back. ‘Jess is fine.’

‘Oi, where’s mine?’ Caroline said with a grin of her own, patting her lips. Tom walked over to her and kissed her on the forehead.

The meal itself was terrific – as it always was when Caroline cooked. As the three of them ate on the balcony looking out at the sun reflecting off the water, Jessica remembered how good
her friend’s culinary skills were. She had become so used to eating takeaways and microwaved meals and, while they sat, ate and chatted, Jessica realised how much she missed having a best
friend. The sun stayed high and Caroline opened a bottle of wine that she shared with Tom. Jessica never had anything alcoholic when she was driving and turned down a glass. Caroline’s
fiancé was genuinely funny and had the two women giggling frequently. Jessica found herself warming to him greatly but couldn’t help but wonder if Caroline had been drawn to him on the
rebound. Ultimately she had been out of her friend’s life for too long to know for sure but it had only been two years ago their lives had been torn apart by Randall and now she was on the
brink of marrying someone else.

Jessica kept her thoughts to herself, trying to relax. The sun had only just begun to dip below the building opposite when her phone rang. She looked over at her two hosts to make sure they
didn’t mind her taking the call but Caroline gave her a thumbs-up.

‘Hello,’ Jessica said.

A man’s voice spoke. ‘Hi, this is Charlie Marks. I hope it’s not too late to call you?’

‘No, it’s fine. What are you after?’ She had phoned him the evening before to confirm it was his brother’s hand that had been found. She had been wary about him having
her mobile number and hoped he wouldn’t be someone who constantly pestered her with how the case was going. As it was, she needn’t have worried.

‘You remember the names you gave me to look at yesterday, Lewis Barnes and January Forrester?’ Charlie said. ‘I think I’ve found a link to my brother.’

Jessica went directly to the Markses’ home the next morning. From where she lived in Didsbury, Charlie’s house was around ten miles away. There was little point
going to the station then driving back out again, so she’d messaged Dave and Izzy to tell them she was going to be late. There was plenty for them to be working on in any case.

Her morning commute was a lot easier than usual as she was driving away from the centre rather than towards it. As she got closer to the address on Ed Marks’s file, the size of the
properties noticeably grew. There were lots of houses with large imposing gates at the front to maintain privacy and all of the homes seemed to have sprawling gardens. Jessica wasn’t sure
exactly where it was but there was an area locally known as ‘Millionaire’s Row’ somewhere nearby where rich locals would buy patches of land and develop their own properties. The
place she was visiting wasn’t quite in that area but it wasn’t far off and the obvious wealth was astonishing.

Jessica had checked directions before leaving but didn’t own a satellite navigation system of her own. She was struggling to find the address, partly because of the large gaps between
houses and partly because a lot of the properties had names instead of numbers. She pulled over to ask someone walking their dog but whoever the person was sped up and ignored her, clearly
concerned about why someone with such an old vehicle would be driving in an affluent area. While she sat in her car, she tried to load a maps application on her phone but the signal was so poor, it
took too long to work. In the end she continued driving before realising the Markses’ house was on the opposite side of the road from where she had been looking. She had already driven past
it three times without noticing.

Around two-thirds of the properties on the road had big gates at the front but she could pull straight onto the Markses’ driveway. A large tree at the front of the garden obscured the view
from the road and you could have comfortably fitted a dozen cars nose-to-tail on the drive given its length. The tarmac was flanked on both sides by long patches of grass that were turning brown
and beginning to look a little overgrown. The drive was empty apart from Jessica’s car, although there was a large garage at the end of it that, from the width of the door, could have
comfortably accommodated three vehicles.

Before she went to the front door, Jessica walked around the side of the garage to the back of the house. If anything, the garden at the rear stretched farther than the one at the front. The
surface was also beginning to brown after a couple of weeks without rain, the bushes running along the sides needing a trim. The only other thing noticeable at the rear was that an extension was
half-built at the far end of the house. Because she hadn’t been inside yet, Jessica didn’t know what it was attached to but there was already a large conservatory, so she assumed it
would offer another room both upstairs and downstairs. The brickwork appeared to be finished but there were holes where windows hadn’t yet been fitted.

Jessica walked back to the front of the property. The style of bricks wasn’t of the type used for most houses. Instead the building was made of much larger stones and somehow seemed both
old-fashioned and state-of-the-art at the same time. The whole place was huge and she guessed it would have at least six bedrooms given the number of upstairs windows.

After Jessica had rung the doorbell, it took almost a minute before Charlie Marks opened it. He was bare-footed and wearing what seemed to be the same shorts from a few days previously, as well
as a loose-fitting white linen shirt.

‘Sergeant,’ he said, welcoming her in. ‘Did you find the place okay?’

Jessica couldn’t be bothered explaining herself so just replied with: ‘Yes.’

‘I won’t waste your time. As you can see, the place is pretty big and I don’t even begin to know where to start. I’ve not touched many of my brother’s things but
there’s still so much space. It looks like there are loads of Dad’s things still in boxes upstairs too. After we talked the other day, I began looking through some of the photos and
items upstairs.’

The man started walking away from her as he spoke and Jessica followed. While the entranceway had white stone flooring, the staircase was wide and covered with a red carpet. The stairs looped
around, ending on a landing with a choice of doors and a varnished wooden floor. It was an odd mix of apparently being finished and furnished, with other areas that hadn’t been touched in
years. There were thin layers of dust on some of the surfaces and boxes stacked in a few corners.

‘I’ve not checked through all of these rooms,’ Charlie continued, pointing towards one end of the upstairs hall. ‘I’ve been sleeping in the one furthest down there
because the room seemed empty.’ He turned around and pointed to the closest opening. ‘That one there is full of boxes.’

He pushed open a door and led Jessica inside. The room had large windows directly opposite the door that looked out over the back garden. A four-poster bed was on her left but unmade and had a
collection of random items on it. There were more boxes pushed to the edges of the room and a dressing table with a cracked glass top.

Jessica walked to the window, peering towards the extension. ‘What’s that?’ she asked, pointing towards the structure.

Charlie had picked up something from the bed and came over to stand next to her. ‘I’ll show you if you want? It looked like Ed was having a swimming pool put in but it’s not
finished for whatever reason.’

‘Why’s everything in boxes? Was he looking to sell?’

Charlie shrugged. ‘I don’t think so, although he had offered to half-sign it over, so maybe. We’ve lived here most of our lives but it’s always been a little like this. I
told you before I don’t think Dad really knew what to do with it all. He spent loads of time in the garden and conservatory. Some of this stuff was still in boxes when I moved out five years
ago or so. I think you just get used to living in a certain way, don’t you?’

Jessica knew that was true; she was always likely to be a little messy whatever happened to her in the future. ‘Why did you call me over?’

Charlie offered her a framed photo he had been holding. ‘Look.’

She took the object from him and turned it around. The frame was made of dark wood and the photo showed what Jessica at first thought was a football team. Something didn’t seem quite right
and she quickly realised there were too many people in the photo. Even though she had no interest in sport, she knew a football team had eleven players. She then saw an oval-shaped rugby ball
resting next to a trophy at the front of the picture with one row of players kneeling and another standing behind.

The people pictured all seemed to be in their teens but Jessica couldn’t recognise any of the faces. ‘What am I looking at?’ she asked.

‘Turn it over.’

Stuck to the wood on the back was a note that had been meticulously hand-written. It had the name of the rugby team and then one by one listed all of the players’ surnames. She skimmed
through the list and saw the word ‘Marks’, then turned the photo back over and looked at the young man who must have been Ed. He was crouching in the front row and, now she was looking,
she could see a strong resemblance to his brother. The hair was darker but he was a similar build and had the same smile.

Jessica flipped the frame back over and looked through the names for a second time. This time, her eyes were drawn to the name ‘Barnes’. She felt a tingle of excitement as she again
turned the frame over. The young man she assumed must be Lewis Barnes was directly behind Ed, towering over him. She didn’t know rugby positions but was aware a team often mixed smaller lads
with much larger ones.

‘How did you find this?’ she asked.

‘By accident really. It was in a box of other photos. I’d started looking through them just because . . . well, because of everything going on. There were a few of Ed and me as kids
and others of Dad playing football with us and so on. I saw that one and noticed the names on the back.’

‘Did you play?’

‘No, it was never my thing. I remember him playing for a couple of seasons when he was about sixteen or seventeen. It was one of the local clubs around here. I wouldn’t have been
able to tell you the name without that note, mind you.’

‘Do you know any of the other boys in the picture?’

Charlie shook his head. ‘No, I didn’t recognise the faces or names. The only reason I noticed anything was because of the writing on the back and you’d asked about a
“Barnes”. I don’t know if that’s who you’re after but the last name matches.’

Jessica nodded, thinking the match was unlikely to be a coincidence. There was an awkward pause as she continued to scan the photograph and names before changing the subject. ‘What’s
it like being back up here?’

Charlie smiled. ‘Different, drier for a start.’

‘It’s not usually.’

‘So I gather. I’m not sure what to do with my time to be honest. I was planning to come up and look for a job. I’ve got some savings to get me by for a while but it feels
weird.’

‘Where did you work in London?’

‘The publishers were called Bennett Piper. It was a family company at some point but not by the time I got there.’

Jessica tried to sound dismissive, as if only half-listening. ‘Can you give me a few minutes? I need to make a call.’

‘Sure, I’ll go downstairs. Give me a shout when you want me.’

Charlie turned around and left the room. Jessica was going to phone Izzy at the station but didn’t want the man to be around to hear her. She still wasn’t entirely ready to discount
him as being a suspect, even if he was only one in her own mind and not officially. Having now seen the extent of the house, it was clear the property was worth hundreds of thousands of pounds, if
not more. If Charlie was interested in getting his hands on the place, cutting off his brother’s hand, as well as someone else’s, and getting someone to leave them in a public place
seemed a very convoluted way of doing it.

Jessica took out her phone and dialled DC Diamond’s extension. She asked the constable if she had a pen handy and then read out the list of surnames from the back of the photo.

After that, she explained about the picture. ‘Can you call Vicky Barnes and ask if her son ever played rugby? Hopefully she’ll remember but, if not, we could ask her if she can
identify her son in the photo. Also cross-check the surnames with anything else we might have on record. The link could be the rugby team as opposed to the college but at least there are less
people to contact if we start with the sporting angle.’

‘Is there anything else?’ Izzy asked.

‘Can you get me a phone number? The Internet’s not great on my phone.’

‘Who are you after?’

‘A publishing company in London called “Bennett Piper”. Message me the number.’

Jessica hung up and looked through a few of the other items littered around the room as she waited for the number to arrive. The items in the boxes really were an assortment of junk, as if
someone had gone to a car-boot sale and bought every item, then packed it all up and left it for twenty years. It did seem strange that the family had been in the house for somewhere between twenty
and thirty years and were still living out of boxes. Jessica didn’t find it as odd as some might, however, as she strongly suspected she would be exactly the same if she lived in a house this
big. Her bedroom would have all the clothes she needed but everything else would be untouched until required.