No Place to Die (26 page)

Chris looked over his shoulder at the office behind them. ‘It doesn’t look good for Mark, does it?’

‘No, it doesn’t, and it could be very detrimental to the case. If we do manage to get something on Lebowski, this is all going to come out. His lawyer will be all over it like flies around shit. She’ll make a case of police harassment, and Lebowski will walk, I guarantee it.’ The frustration Jane had been feeling became compounded to an ache in her stomach. What had Mark been thinking?

‘Do you think Lebowski got sick of the calls and decided to put an end to it? The Amelia Reynolds case, the calls – they connect him to Mark. It gives Lebowski a motive.’

Jane put her head in her hands. ‘Shit.’ When she had spoken to Lockyer she had questioned whether Lebowski could have murdered Mark to prevent him alerting them to the Amelia Reynolds case. But what if it was simpler than that? What if it was Mark’s obsession that had killed him? ‘We have to go over the evidence on Mark’s disappearance. We need to see if we can place Lebowski at the scene. If we can prove he was there, the harassment might not matter.’

‘What about Gary Reynolds?’ Chris asked.

She opened her mouth to answer him, but didn’t speak. She should be saying, “Bring him in for questioning”, but she couldn’t. ‘I don’t know,’ she said. ‘The SIO has ordered me not to investigate the Amelia Reynolds case. There’s no way I can speak to the girl’s father without creating a shit-storm.’ She thought for a moment. ‘I need to think this through, talk to Lockyer. No one outside the team is to know about this, okay?’

‘Yes, boss,’ Chris said. She could see he was relieved to have passed the responsibility over to her. And who would blame him?

Mark’s actions would ruin his reputation; would make people question his integrity as an officer, his state of mind even. If he was dead, Jane couldn’t stand the thought of his memory being forever tarnished.

Chris pushed back his chair and stood to leave. ‘There was one more thing,’ he said.

‘Go on,’ she said.

‘Sasha has been checking the calls on the Hungerford case.’

Jane frowned. ‘Which calls?’

‘Well,’ Chris said. ‘It might be nothing, but I overheard Sasha talking about it and thought . . . ’ He blushed.

‘It’s okay, Chris. All ideas are welcome. Go for it.’

He seemed to relax a little. ‘Okay. Sasha said there were two calls to the incident line saying that Lebowski was a possible boyfriend. One was from a student in her class, a Virginia Jones. The other from an Oliver Hanson. When Sasha checked, she couldn’t find a record of him. The caller gave a fake name and part of an address that doesn’t exist. I just wondered whether . . . ’ He looked at her.

‘You’re wondering whether Mark made the call about Lebowski, to make sure we picked him up?’ She could see how hard Chris was finding this. Speaking ill of a fellow officer, retired or not, was one thing. Speaking ill of the dead was quite another.

‘Yes,’ Chris said. His cheeks were bright red.

‘It’s all right, Chris, you can relax,’ she said. ‘Mark went missing on Tuesday the twenty-second of April. The calls about Lebowski didn’t come through until the end of last week – Saturday, I think,’ she said, running through the timeframes in her head. ‘But you’re right to query it. The call could have been made by Gary Reynolds. Check with Communications to see if we can get a number.’

‘What will you do if it’s Reynolds?’ Chris asked.

Jane barked out a tired laugh. ‘I would have to talk to the SIO. If Gary Reynolds made the call about Lebowski, that’s a direct link to the Hungerford case. Whether Roger likes it or not, I’d have to talk to the guy.’

‘So it might not be all bad then, boss?’

She stood and put her hand on his arm. ‘I think we’re due some good luck, Detective Constable, don’t you?’

‘Yes, boss,’ he said. He opened the door to the briefing room. ‘I’ll leave the call logs with you?’ he said, gesturing to the papers on the glass table behind Jane.

‘Don’t worry. I’ll deal with it.’

She sat down as the door clicked shut behind her. She looked at her mobile. It was six-thirty. She had to pick Peter up from her mother’s in half an hour. It would take that long to get through the Lewisham rush-hour. She gathered her papers and picked up her phone. She would call Lockyer on the way; see if he could come over later to talk things through. Maybe he would have some words of advice. She bloody well hoped so. She wouldn’t forget Mort, either. She would be talking to him again, sooner rather than later.

Jane accelerated through the amber light and turned right onto her mother’s street. It was another beautiful evening. A normal person would be getting home from work, having their dinner outside, if they were lucky enough to have a garden, and enjoying a glass of something alcoholic. Lockyer was meeting her at home in an hour, so she doubted there would be time for al fresco dining, but there was a bottle of red wine in the cupboard with her name on it. She would be enjoying that, even if she had to take it to bed with her. She turned off the radio as she pulled up next to the curb.

Her phone started to ring as she climbed out of the car. She rifled through her handbag until her fingers closed around the vibrating mobile. It was Sue. Jane looked up and saw her mother standing by the front door. She waved and muted the call. Peter and her mother deserved her time, even if it was only for an hour. She would call Sue later, once she had spoken to Lockyer. ‘Hey,’ she said, walking up the driveway. ‘How’s it going?’ She kissed her mother on the cheek.

‘Good. Good. Good,’ her mother said. Her voice was bordering on shrill.

‘How’s my boy doing?’

‘He’s in the lounge watching cartoons,’ her mother said, stepping back.

Jane gave her mother a quick hug as she passed. ‘
Mr Benn
?’

‘Naturally.’

She walked into her parents’ lounge, a vision of cream furnishings and magnolia walls. Peter was sitting cross-legged on the carpet, no more than a foot away from the television. ‘Hello, munchkin,’ she said, crouching down and covering his hair with kisses. ‘And how is the most handsome boy in the world doing today?’ He didn’t respond at first, but he smiled when she tickled his ribs with the tips of her fingers. ‘Good day?’

‘Yes,’ Peter said, leaning towards the screen.

‘You can tell me all about it in the car.’ She felt Peter tense by her side. ‘You can watch the end of this one, while I have a cup of tea with Grandma, and then we’ll get going. Okay?’ He nodded. Jane looked at the screen. ‘Is this the one when he turns into a knight?’

Peter smiled and touched her hand. ‘There’s a dragon. It’s red.’ The excitement in his voice made her want to bundle him in her arms and kiss him to death. The DVD had come free with a newspaper and, according to her mother, Peter had watched it every day after school for a week. He must have seen every episode at least a dozen times, but that didn’t seem to spoil his enjoyment.

‘Oh, this is a good one. I’ll stop interrupting.’ She gave him another kiss on the top of his head, before standing and heading towards the kitchen.

‘Mummy?’ Peter called.

‘Yes, honey,’ she said, poking her head around the kitchen door.

‘Grandma let me have two ice-creams after school.’ He didn’t turn round, and from his tone it was hard to tell whether he was dobbing on his grandma or just giving Jane the good news.

‘Lucky you.’ She turned. ‘Two ice-creams today?’ Her mother had her back to her. ‘Did he eat his dinner?’

‘Yes. I ate with Peter. I’ll do something for your father later on,’ Celia Bennett said, her hands busy in the kitchen sink.

‘Where is Dad?’ Jane asked. She hadn’t seen her father all week.

‘He’s upstairs. I’ll put the kettle on, shall I?’

‘Please. I’ll just run up and say hello to the old bugger. I was beginning to wonder if you’d bumped him off.’ Jane laughed and started to leave the kitchen.

‘He’s resting, Jane. Leave him for now. He’ll come down when he’s ready.’

‘Resting? What’s up with him?’ she asked. When there was no answer she tried again. ‘Mum, is everything all right?’

Her mother shook off her hands, dried them on a tea towel, turned and sat down at the kitchen table. When she looked up, Jane could see that her eyes were red.

‘Mum,’ she said, sitting down next to her and taking her hand. ‘What’s wrong?’

Without warning her mother started to cry. Celia Bennett didn’t cry. She never cried. Not in Jane’s presence at least. Celia shook her head and wiped under her eyes with the tea towel. ‘Now, you mustn’t worry.’ Jane’s shoulders tensed, her stomach flipped as if she was about to be sick. ‘Your father’s not been feeling well.’

‘Okay,’ Jane said, feeling as if she was having an out-of-body experience. ‘Have you taken him to the doctor’s?’

‘Yes, I took him last week and again today,’ her mother said. ‘We don’t know anything yet. It might not even be anything. I don’t know why I’m crying. It’s ridiculous. Forget I said anything. They’re running some tests. I’m sure everything is fine.’

‘Mother,’ Jane said, trying to keep her voice level, ‘what kind of tests? Tell me what’s going on.’ She squeezed her mother’s hand. ‘Just tell me.’

Celia Bennett sighed and looked out of the kitchen window. ‘He’s been very tired. Well, you know how tired he gets. He’s had some pain and they think he might have . . . well, they think he might have had a small stroke.’

‘God, Mum. When?’

‘Now don’t get upset, darling. He’s fine. He’s just tired.’

‘When did this happen, Mum?’ Jane asked again.

‘They’re not sure. In the last month, they think. He had a whole load of tests yesterday. He’s been referred to a neurologist. They took blood, did an ECG and an ultrasound scan of his heart.’

‘And what did they say?’ She felt as if she was pulling teeth. How had she not noticed when she arrived? Her mother’s face was grey. For the first time ever, Celia Bennett looked old.

‘We have to wait for the tests. They wanted to keep him in, but I said no. You know how much your father hates hospitals. It would do him no good to be in there, with strangers. He’s far better off at home where I can keep an eye on him. The food in those places is enough to kill anyone – and the germs. They’re always fighting off one superbug or another. Well, of course, they don’t clean the places properly.’ Jane listened as her mother ranted. This was more familiar. Celia had always had strong opinions about the NHS, but they tended to flip-flop: either the poor doctors and nurses were underpaid and overworked, or they were a bunch of idiots who didn’t know their arses from their elbows.

‘What does Dad say?’

‘Oh, you know your father. He doesn’t say much. The doctor said he shouldn’t drink or smoke, which has gone in one ear and out the other. As if he’d give up his cigars. Your father thinks it’s all a lot of fuss over nothing. Of course it probably is.’

Jane could feel her mother closing off, shutting down the emotions that had got away from her. She had offloaded onto Jane and now it was done. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ she asked, wondering why she would even pose such a stupid question.

‘You’ve been busy, darling. Your father and I know how important this new case is to your career. We’re not in our fifties any more. These things happen. It’s nothing. Your father’s right. I don’t know what I was thinking – crying like that, worrying you. Ignore me. It must be the heat. It’s sending me loopy.’ She stood and patted Jane’s arm. ‘Now, I really don’t have time for tea, darling. I need to get your father’s dinner on the go, and I’ve got a ton of washing to do. Why don’t you and Peter get off home?’

‘Mum,’ Jane tried, but her mother turned and shook her head.

‘It’s all right. If there’s anything you need to know, I’ll tell you. You just concentrate on you and Peter, and your case. I will look after your father.’

‘Can I at least go up and see him?’

‘You can see him tomorrow, darling. He’s not dying, for goodness’ sake. You can be over-dramatic at times, did you know that?’ Celia smiled. ‘Look at you. You’re getting yourself into a state for nothing. Come on, off you go. Peter,’ she called through to the lounge. ‘Turn that off now, your mother’s ready to go – there’s a good boy.’

Jane pushed back the kitchen chair and stood. She felt drained of every ounce of energy. ‘I’ll work from home tomorrow.’

Her mother scoffed. ‘You most certainly will not. I’m taking Peter to the park. It’s all arranged. I’ve been handling your father and Peter on my own for the past fortnight. I’m more than capable, thank you.’ She bent down and opened the dishwasher. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow. We can catch up properly at some point over the weekend, if you have time. You can come and see your father. I’m sure he’d like to see you.’

Jane opened her mouth to protest, but decided it wasn’t worth the effort. The conversation was over. Her mother was back in control. ‘I’ll call you tomorrow,’ she said, walking out of the kitchen.

‘Okay, darling. Bye. Bye, Petey. Kisses to you both.’

She walked into the lounge. Peter was standing by the front door, his knapsack slung over his shoulder. ‘Let’s go, handsome,’ Jane said, taking his hand and opening the door. They walked down to the car in silence.

‘Do you think there’s a shop like Mr Benn’s in Lewisham?’ Peter asked.

‘I don’t know, honey,’ she said, forcing back the tears that were filling her eyes. ‘It would be lovely if there was.’ Right now she would give anything to be transported to another world.

2nd May – Friday

Jane turned off Peter’s bedside lamp and tiptoed out of his room. He was so tired. He had been asleep before she finished reading the first chapter of
Matilda
and she knew why. He was a mood-hoover. Her mother would not have discussed Jane’s father in front of Peter, she knew that, but like most children he would have sensed the shift in atmosphere. She blew him a kiss as she pulled the door closed. She padded down the stairs in her slippers. She felt as if she was carrying an elephant on her back. It had been a long day and it wasn’t over yet.

Lockyer was sitting in her lounge, flicking through a magazine on home furnishings. ‘I never knew lighting a room was so complex,’ he said, taking a sip of wine. He had brought a bottle with him. Jane was grateful, as she was pretty sure the bottle she had wasn’t going to be enough to get both of them through the evening.