DS Jessica Daniel series: Locked In/Vigilante/The Woman in Black - Books 1-3 (89 page)

BOOK: DS Jessica Daniel series: Locked In/Vigilante/The Woman in Black - Books 1-3
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Jacob took his fresh drink from the tray and took a large slurp. ‘Better get these ones down if we’ve got more on the way.’

Fred nodded towards the two girls who now had their backs to the men. ‘You seen those two?’

‘Both lezzers,’ Jacob replied.

The group continued talking and a few minutes later the other man returned with a tray of four drinks. He walked around the table putting a pint down in front of each man. ‘Here you are,
boys, sorry about the trouble.’

Jacob downed his pint and picked up the new one, shrugging at his friends. ‘Free beer – we’ll have to send Fred in to put the shits up people more often.’

‘Aye, it’s always the quiet ones,’ one of the other men said.

They continued to talk and joke but, after finishing the fifth drink of the evening, Fred stood. ‘Time for me to go, fellas, Suzie will be wondering where I am.’

One of the other men got to his feet. ‘I should probably be off too. I’m driving and my copper mate reckons they have those random drink-driving stops after eight. I’m not
getting done again.’

‘Can I hop in with you?’ the third man asked, also standing up.

‘Yeah, but let’s get going, it’s already half seven.’

‘You’re all off?’ Jacob said accusingly, though he could hear his own words slurring.

‘Sorry, mate,’ Fred replied. ‘I’ve got to look after the kids tomorrow night too but we’ll come back the day after that.’ The other two men nodded in
agreement.

Jacob wanted to protest but was feeling sluggish. The three men left via the gate at the back of the garden, rather than walking back through the pub. Jacob took his phone out of his pocket but
the screen was too blurry to make out. He knew there was a taxi rank nearby but couldn’t remember exactly where it was. The man picked up his T-shirt from the table and put it back on. For
some reason he couldn’t fit his head through and, as he heard nearby giggling, he realised it was because he was trying to squeeze it through an arm hole. Feeling stupid, he twisted the top
around and finally managed to put it on properly. The two women from earlier were now looking at him, laughing openly.

‘What’s your problem?’ he demanded but his words garbled into one. He felt very drunk but couldn’t figure out why.

The two girls were still laughing. ‘Think you’ve had too much to drink, you stupid prick,’ one of them said.

Jacob stood quickly but stumbled on the wooden seat. He regained his balance but his head was spinning. He tried to shout some abuse at the women but his words blended into one, which just made
them laugh even more. Trying to keep himself steady, he stomped past them out the back gate his friends had disappeared through minutes earlier. He knew where he was but, for some reason, his brain
wasn’t giving him the information he needed about which direction to go in. Jacob stopped, trying to focus on a spot across the road in order to clear his head.

The strange thing was he was thinking clearly enough to know he hadn’t had enough alcohol to feel this drunk. He could remember the five drinks, which was only a little more than he might
have on his own in an evening at home. He had only had a pie for lunch but that wasn’t unusual either. One thing he was known for in his circle of friends was being able to put the beer
away.

Jacob stumbled to his right, not knowing entirely where the taxi rank was but realising he had a fifty per cent chance of being correct. Before he could get to the junction he felt a hand on his
shoulder. He started to turn but felt a blow hammer into the side of his cheek. His vision was spinning anyway but started to go black from the ferocity of the attack.

Jacob fought to stay standing, throwing a punch of his own, but he couldn’t see where the blow had come from. His swing connected only with warm air as something smashed into the back of
his head. He tried to stay focused and upright but a final blow was enough to make everything go dark.

13

Jessica was sitting at her desk, looking at the two constables in front of her. ‘Where’d you get the chair from, Dave?’

Rowlands shrugged. ‘Nicked it from downstairs. I figured that if we’re going to keep meeting in your office, I should at least have somewhere to sit.’ He looked accusingly at
Izzy.

‘All right, kiddies,’ Jessica said, looking from one constable to the other, ‘who wants to go first?’

Izzy flicked her hair back behind her ears and started to tie it in a ponytail. ‘Me and the boy wonder have visited everyone we know that has any association with January. Everyone claims
they don’t know where she is, which isn’t a surprise, I guess.’

Rowlands nodded, taking his colleague’s cue to chip in. ‘I reckon she’s hiding out with a friend somewhere. There are a few people we think might know more than they’re
letting on but there’s not much we can do. Aside from sounding a bit shifty we don’t have any reason to suspect anyone specifically.’

Jessica knew he was right. ‘Next time I see the super I’ll ask him to get onto the Home Secretary about bringing in a law so we can arrest shifty-looking and -sounding people.
Personally I’m all for it.’ She again looked from one constable to the other. ‘You both know about the package I was sent a couple of days ago. Because of the similarity in print
on the front I didn’t even touch it and the lab boys came to take it. I got a phone call and email with the results this morning. As I thought, it contained a finger belonging to Lewis
Barnes.’

‘Why do you think it was addressed directly to you?’ Izzy asked.

‘No idea really. The case has been in the papers and the details are on the website so someone could have taken it from there. Maybe it’s someone like January we’ve spoken to
who knows me? There weren’t any fingerprints on the envelope so it’s a bit of a dead end. The labs couldn’t give us anything specific about printer or ink types but it was always
going to be a long shot.’

‘Are you okay with things?’ Izzy asked, referring to the fact it had been Jessica specifically who had received the latest parcel.

Jessica was still having the odd flash of the first finger in her dreams and was relieved she hadn’t opened the second package. If she was honest she was a little concerned that whoever
was sending the parcels apparently knew who she was but she didn’t want to show those feelings to her colleagues. Cole and Reynolds had both asked her the same question the previous day.

Jessica shrugged. ‘Not much I can do, is there? Every piece of mail I get is being screened before it gets to me now. If someone could do the same with my bills at home I’d be
laughing.’ Her two colleagues exchanged a look as if to tell each other they knew she was putting a brave face on it. She pretended she hadn’t seen it and changed the subject.
‘Have either of you managed to dig up anything on Michael Wright?’

Rowlands and Diamond both shook their heads. ‘Me neither,’ said Jessica. ‘I know you guys didn’t see him but I think he’s a bit of a red herring anyway. He
didn’t seem bitter to me, just sad. The poor guy loved the job and enjoyed his students’ success. He’s a little
unconventional
but nothing more.’ Jessica had almost
used the word ‘weird’. Even though the man wasn’t present it would have felt as if she was bullying him.

‘Where does that leave us?’ Rowlands asked.

Jessica puffed her cheeks out, shrugging. ‘In a bit of a mess. The rugby players live all over the country and I’m not convinced that’s our link anyway. If they all went to the
same school, there’s every chance they did other things together. I think we’ll have one more day going back over what we’ve already got and then, after that, it’s working
our way through every name on that list of school-leavers. I don’t think any of us want to be doing that. Iz, take an officer and go see Vicky Barnes. You know what she’s like but keep
her calm and see if she knows anything about where January could be. We know Lewis played rugby but what else was he involved with? Did he play any other sports or was he part of other clubs and so
on?’

Izzy had taken her notebook out and was writing. Jessica looked to Rowlands. ‘Dave, there are two other players from the rugby team who live in this area. I spoke to the pair of them on
the phone but go and do your blokey thing with them. Take another male officer and try to get them off-guard. I’m not convinced Jacob told us all he knew. It’s probably nothing but ask
them about tours and celebrations and so on. See if anyone remembers Lewis and Ed being friends or find out if they’re linked in any way aside from the rugby.’

‘Anything else? Dave asked.

‘No, when you’re done talking you can both nick off but don’t take the piss and rush. I’ve got some bits to do here but then I’ve got to leave early too.’

Rowlands grinned. ‘Oh yeah . . .’

‘You can take that smug look off your face.’

‘What’s going on?’ Izzy asked.

Jessica went to speak but Rowlands cut in ahead of her. ‘Tomboy Jess has a dress-fitting for that wedding today. It sounds bloody hilarious.’

‘What’s so funny about that?’ Jessica said.

‘Just you in a big fancy dress thing. I’d pay to see that.’

‘You’d pay to see women in their underwear trying on clothes? That’s not a surprise to anyone.’

‘No, I’d pay to see your face. How long have I known you now? Four years? Five? I think I’ve only ever seen you in a dress a couple of times.’

‘What are you, my stalker?’

‘In your dreams.’

Jessica saw Izzy’s knowing look but swiftly glanced away. ‘Right, let’s get going. The quicker we get all this done, the quicker we can all get home then come back tomorrow
ready to wade through a list of over a hundred school-leavers.’

After they left, Jessica took her shoes off in an effort to cool down. It was still hot in the station but the weather that day wasn’t as warm as it had been. For the first time since the
case had fallen into her lap, she was beginning to feel a little stuck. They had spent a couple of weeks moving from one minor lead to the next but, aside from now knowing the identity of the
victims, none of it had really advanced the case. They still didn’t know if Lewis Barnes and Ed Marks were dead or alive, although she had been working from the assumption they were deceased.
They also had no idea who was leaving the hands, or why.

The prominence of the case surrounding Christine Johnson’s disappearance was both a stroke of luck and a total inconvenience. In relation to Jessica’s situation, it allowed her to
get on with things without too much scrutiny from above. The command structure where she would have to pass things through DI Reynolds to DCI Cole had been completely sidelined because both men
were under huge pressure from DSI Aylesbury to get results. Although that suited her and left her with two constables she actually liked to work alongside, the downside was becoming apparent. Given
their difficulties in tracking down January – or any other kind of lead relating to the woman in black or a connection between the two victims – their usual course of action would have
been to get the media as heavily involved as possible. Unfortunately the journalists were only interested in one case and it wasn’t hers.

With no other obvious ideas, she dialled Garry Ashford’s mobile number and waited for him to answer. ‘Hello,’ he said gloomily.

‘All right, cheer up, I could be calling to tell you someone’s handed in a hundred grand that was left on the street and it’s your name on the envelope.’

‘Have they?’

‘No, but you didn’t know that.’

‘Sorry, it’s just bloody hot,’ Garry sighed. ‘I’ve spent most of the last fortnight camped outside George Johnson’s house. It’s not as if he even comes
to talk to us and your lot never have anything to say. I think I’ve got sun stroke.’

‘Why don’t you go back to the office then?’

‘Christ knows. The editor wants someone here in case anything happens. There are about half-a-dozen of us sitting around in our cars like complete prats on the off-chance his wife comes
home. I don’t suppose you know anything, do you?’

‘Naff all.’

‘Can I quote you on that? “A senior police source said they knew ‘naff all’ about the case”.’

‘Take out the word “senior” and you’ve got a deal.’

‘Hardee-har. What are you after?’

‘January Forrester.’

Garry sighed again. ‘I told you last week, the editor’s not interested. You got the picture printed the day after she went missing but there’s not much more I can
do.’

‘So it’s only news if someone married to somebody a bit famous goes missing, not if someone who could be a serial killer disappears?’

‘Do you think she’s a serial killer?’

‘That’s not the point. She’s a suspect who’s gone missing and we could do with help finding her.’

‘Sorry, but it’s not up to me.’

‘Look, if I feed you a whole load of quotes on the record will you write something up for me? I’ll email you the photos to go with it and you won’t have to do very much at
all.’

‘What’s in it for me?’

‘My eternal gratitude?’

Garry laughed. ‘Sod off. How about a future exclusive of my choosing?’

‘Done. I thought you were going to ask for one of my kidneys or something.’

‘Not with the amount of wine you can put away.’

Jessica tried not to but found herself laughing. ‘All right, funny man. If I email you a load of information can you just take some quotes out of that for me? Fill in the gaps if you want
but don’t make me sound like a dick.’

‘So you want me to make you sound literate? I thought you said there wouldn’t be much work involved?’

‘Yeah, yeah, just think of the juicy exclusive you’ll have coming your way someday. How’s Mrs Ashford anyway? A big spiky-haired birdie named Dave told me you had a
girlfriend.’ It had taken Jessica a few years to get him to admit it but Rowlands and Garry Ashford were old university friends. At first they had kept it very much to themselves with the
constable acting as a source for his mate. Jessica had put a stop to that but kept the nature of their relationship to herself to prevent Dave getting into any kind of trouble.

Garry sounded a little embarrassed. ‘She’s all right. I don’t know why he’s going around telling people though.’

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