Requiem (10 page)

Chapter
Sixteen

It was a silent drive on the way to Mary Redman’s house the next morning. As Kate drove past her mother’s place, looking for a parking space, she saw a bright yellow Mini parked on the scrubby front lawn.

“Is Peter living here now?”

“Yeah,” said Courtney.

Kate pulled the car into the kerb.

“Must be a bit crowded. With you two girls here as well.” Courtney had been living with her father but clearly had decided a room at her mother’s place was preferable to moving to Scotland.

Courtney shrugged. She looked at Kate, opened her mouth and then shut it again.

“What—” Kate was interrupted by Jay getting out of the car and slamming the door shut.

As they walked up the front path, past the Mini, the dirty net curtains at the front window flickered. Peter’s face peered out
, and momentarily, a frown crossed his face. The curtains were pulled across again, hiding his face from view. By that time, though, Kate had already processed that look.

When Kate
had been a ‘bobby on the beat,’ very early on in her career, she’d been out with her Sergeant, a bluff Northerner called Wittock. He’d told her about what he’d termed ‘coppers’ senses’: something almost indefinable that every good police officer developed. It was almost a sixth sense: the ability to deduct that something was awry from the smallest of gestures or inconsequential details.

“It takes time,”
Wittock had said. “But you’ll get it. If you’re any good at your job. You’ll start to notice things, without even realising you’re noticing them, if you see what I mean.”

Kate had found he was right. And now, just on that one look from Peter, a momentary expression on his face seen in the fraction of a second, her copper’s senses were screaming.

When he opened the door, he was all smiles and solicitous attention for Jay, ushering them all inside with warm greetings.

“Mary’s out shopping,” he said, gesturing for them to go through into the living room. It was much cleaner and tidier than it had been last time Kate had been here, although the stink of old cigarettes had not noticeably lessened. “Jade’s at school, obviously. How are you, Kate?”

“Fine, thanks,” said Kate, keeping a smile on her face. Jay sloped past them and she heard him walking heavily up the stairs. Courtney followed him a moment later.

“How about a cup of tea?”

“Lovely,” said Kate, automatically. She’d noticed a laptop on the coffee table, the screen facing away from the room.

Peter followed her gaze.

“Just doing my accounts,” he said. “Worst thing about being self-employed, the bloomin’ paperwork!”

“I can imagine.”

“I’ll get you that tea. Sit down love, and I won’t be long.”

“Thanks,” said Kate, her cheeks beginning to ache from smiling. Peter went off to the galley kitchen at the end of the hallway, leaving the door open behind him.

“Milk and sugar?” he shouted from the kitchen.

“Just milk, please,” Kate shouted back. Quickly and quietly, she walked to the laptop so she could see the screen and gently tapped the spacebar to take off the screensaver. She was expecting a password request to come up
, but there was nothing. There was nothing on the screen except the usual Outlook interface, emails and a little calendar. Nothing untoward.

Kate quickly ran her eye down the list of emails. Only one caught her attention and that was because the subject matter was a girl’s name: Alice. She opened it, glancing towards
the open door. What on earth was she going to say if Peter came back and caught her? The email opened. Kate scanned it quickly.

From:
[email protected]

To:
[email protected]

Subject: Alice

Message: got those files you were looking for. Check new website
https://www.nys1016.com
.

Nothing untoward there either. Kate tried to memorise
the address and then whipped out her mobile and took a photograph of the screen. She could hear the kettle in the kitchen come to the boil. Quickly, she closed the email to bring back the original screen, tiptoed back to the sofa and sat down, checking the photograph had saved correctly. Then she put her phone away, just as Peter appeared in the doorway with two steaming mugs.

They made chit-chat while Kate tried to drink her hot tea as quickly as she decently could. Then she said goodbye to Peter, hugged Courtney and Jay who were listening to music and smoking cigarettes in Courtney’s bedroom, and told them both to give her love to her Mum.

“Where’ve you bloody
been
?” said Olbeck as Kate dropped into her chair at the office. “We’ve pulled Nathan Vertz in again, under caution this time.”

“Good,” said Kate. “Are we questioning him?”

“Nope, Anderton’s doing it. We’ve been sent over to Vertz’s place to pull it apart. We’ll take Jane and Rav as well if they’re free.”

The four of them drove in two separate cars to Arbuthon Green. It was intensely cold
: the first real frost of the season. The grubby terraces were almost transformed, glittering under a powdery dusting of ice.

Nathan
Vertz’s house was warm and clean and quiet.

“Wow, nice,” said Jane, looking around with eyebrows raised. “You’d never think he had a place like this.”

“I know,” said Kate. She rubbed a finger along her jaw, wondering whether to say what she wanted to say. “I think—”

“Hey, look at this,” said Rav, who was opening cupboards. “Awards. Not for the
Butterkins
, surely?”

“Don’t be such a snob,” said Olbeck. “They were really popular once. Made millions for the British film industry.”

“Well, what happened to it all? Vertz’s share, I mean.” Rav took an award out of the cupboard, turning it over in his gloved hands. “
People’s Choice
.” He glanced at Olbeck. “See, it’s hardly an Oscar, is it?”

Kate and Jane took the upstairs rooms, leaving the men to cover the ground floor. Nathan Vertz’s bedroom was as beautifully decorated as the rest of the house; the walls were painted a pale, chalky green, the large bed made up with white linen. The duvet and pillows were rumpled and dragged half onto the floor. There was a small, delicate little wooden table by the bed, a lamp with a fawn silk shade still switched on. Kate turned it off. She pulled out the drawer of the bedside table. Inside was a collection of letters and postcards. Kate drew them out and sat on the edge of the messy bed to read through them. Beneath her feet was the scrape of something heavy being moved as the men began to shift the furniture.

“Look,” she said to Jane after a moment. The other woman came over and Kate handed her the topmost letter.

“It’s from Elodie.”

Jane read silently for a moment. Then she looked at Kate.

“A love letter.”

Kate fanned out the rest of the papers in her hands. “Lots of love letters. I didn’t think anyone wrote love letters any more.”

Jane took another one, a postcard of a Turner landscape. She read the inscription on the back out loud.

“
‘Remembering that afternoon in the cornfields. I love you.’” She turned it over and looked at the picture of the front, flipped it back again. “It’s dated…August this year.”

Kate pulled the drawer completely out and looked through it.

“There’s nothing there from him to her,” said Jane, sorting through the stack of correspondence.

“Well, would there be?”

“I guess not. Were there any letters from Vertz at Elodie’s house when you searched it?”

Kate sat back on her haunches and stared at Jane. “No. No
, there wasn’t. Not a single thing.”

“Well,” said Jane, hesitatingly. “That’s odd
—isn’t it?”

“Yes, it is,” said Kate. She pulled herself to her feet with a groan. “I mean, he could be the sort of guy who doesn’t ever write letters but…it’s a bit odd.”

She scanned the letters. “Look, here. She says, ‘Thanks for your beautiful letter.’ So he must have written at least one.”

Jane opened her mouth to reply but before she could say anything, there was a shout from downstairs.

Kate and Jane arrived in the living room to see the sofa pushed back against the wall, the rug rolled up and a section of the floorboards upended.

Rav was grinning like a child who had just discovered a playmate during a game of hide and seek.

“The
motherlode.”

Kate looked down into the space beneath the floorboards revealed by the upended wood. Several plastic
-wrapped packages, a scuffed black rucksack, a half-empty sack of glucose powder, a set of scales.

“Well, well,” said Olbeck. “At least one part of the mystery is cleared up.” He carefully opened the rucksack with gloved hands without moving it from its original position. “Look here. Must be
...” He riffled through the wads of neatly bound bank notes in the bag. “Must be thousands here.”

Jane was already on the
radio arranging for crime scene photographers. Kate, who was nearest the front window, noticed several cars drawing up outside the house. For a second, she thought it was some of their own officers before the cameras appearing put paid to that idea.

“Press are here,” she said.

Jane rolled her eyes. “That didn’t take long.”

“We’d better get some uniforms here, cordon it off.”

Kate drew the curtains across the windows. Rav was already phoning for reinforcements.

Olbeck drew Kate aside.

“Let’s get back to Anderton, let him have the latest. This could be the trigger he’s been waiting for.”

Chapter
Seventeen

Anderton was questioning Vertz in one of the interview rooms when Olbeck and Kate arrived back at the station. Nathan Vertz looked even more dishevelled than he had done the day before, eyes ringed by shadow, his face pale and pouchy. Kate and Olbeck waited outside while Anderton paused the interview and left the room, joining them in the corridor.

“What have you got for me?”

They told him. Kate was thankful she was able to be calm and professional. It meant the embarrassment of being in Anderton’s company after their last disastrous meeting was somewhat mitigated.

All three went back into the interview room and Kate was sure that, this time, Anderton would take no prisoners. She kept the folder containing Elodie’s letters on her lap, ready to hand it over at the right time.

Vertz flicked a single glance at her as she sat down before lapsing back into blankness. Again, she had the impression that there was something there under the surface, something hidden but dangerous. She’d felt it before, with someone else, someone quite different to this unshaven, slouched man before her. Who had it been?

She thought back and realised it was Mrs Duncan, Elodie’s mother. Some
other feeling had been there under the grief, barely glimpsed, like the tiniest tip of an iceberg poking out from chilly, black waters.

“So, Nathan,” said Anderton quietly. “You maintain that the extent of your relationship with Elodie Duncan is that ‘you went on a few dates
.’ Do you wish to amend that statement?”

Vertz said nothing but kept staring at the table top.

“I put it to you that you had a longstanding and deep romantic and sexual relationship with Elodie Duncan.”

Silence from Vertz.

“Can you confirm if that is the case?”

Vertz continued to stare at the table top.

No one spoke for a few moments. Then Anderton took up the gauntlet again.

“A large quantity of cocaine was found in Elodie Duncan’s possession after she died. My officers have just informed me that an even larger quantity of cocaine and other assorted illegal substances was found hidden away at your house today. Do you have anything to say about that?”

Nothing. Kate suppressed an irritated sigh. Stonewalling during an interview was an effective technique but surely there was something they could do to break him down… She pressed the side of her foot against Anderton’s under the table and passed him the folder of love letters.

He didn’t break stride in what he was saying but took the folder from her, continuing to ask Nathan Vertz his questions.

“Did you give that cocaine to Elodie Duncan for her to sell for you?”

“No comment,” muttered Vertz. The solicitor beside him shifted uneasily.

“Did Elodie try to rip you off? Did you kill her?”

“No she didn’t. And no I didn’t.”

“Who do you think killed her?”

There was a sudden stillness in Vertz
. Kate was reminded of an animal that had just scented its prey. Or was it an animal who had just heard the hunter stalking it?

“I don’t know,” he said in a quiet voice
. There was something hidden in his statement that made Kate want to shiver.

Anderton let the silence after his remark continue for an uncomfortably long time. Then he slowly held up one of Elodie’s letters and began to read from it aloud.

“’My darling Nathan, can’t wait to see you again tonight. I know we only said goodbye a few days ago but it just seems too long before we can be together again. It’s only when I’m with you that I really feel like myself—’”

Vertz went pale.

“Where did you get that?”

Anderton ignored him. He let the letter fall to his lap and picked up a postcard.

“‘Hey, my sexy Nat, saw this and thought of you—’”

Vertz snatched for it
, and Anderton pulled his hand back.

“That’s mine!”

Vertz was on his feet. Kate and Olbeck leapt to theirs, and the uniformed officer in the corner did likewise. The solicitor, a grey-haired man in his sixties, looked as though he was ready to run out of the door.

Anderton hadn’t moved. Without taking his eyes from
Vertz’s face, he slowly drew another postcard and held it, preparing to read from it.

“Stop.”

Vertz’s voice broke in a sob. Suddenly, he flopped back onto his chair, burying his face in his hands.

After a moment, Anderton spoke quietly.

“You loved Elodie Duncan, didn’t you Nathan?”

Vertz was crying, harsh
, open-mouthed sobs. The tears were running between his dirty fingers.

Anderton repeated his statement.

“You loved her, didn’t you Nathan?”

Vertz nodded. After a moment, he spoke, his voice hoarse.

“I loved her.  We—we found each other—we knew each other. We both knew what it was like…” His voice trailed away into a mumble. Then he cleared his throat and spoke again. “I didn’t kill her. I would never hurt her.”

“You have a police record for assaulting your wife,” said Anderton. “A serious assault. Are you telling me you’ve changed that much?”

“That was different. Elodie was different.”

“What happened that night?”

Vertz shook his head. “I don’t know. I don’t know.”

“Did you kill Elodie Duncan?”

“No, I didn’t. I would never hurt her.” He began to cry again. “I wouldn’t do that.”

Anderton placed the letters back into the folder, gently. He closed it and gave it back to Kate. Vertz tracked the movement with his eyes.

“Those are mine.”

“You will have them back, Nathan,” said Anderton. Then he said, in the same gentle voice, “Are you aware that Elodie was pregnant when she died?”

If Vertz had been pale before, it was nothing to the colour he became. He looked almost transparent.

“What?” he whispered.

“Elodie Duncan was pregnant when she died,” said Anderton, looking straight at the man. Some premonition made Kate brace herself, shift herself just a little closer to the edge of her seat.

Anderton continued.

“It was your baby.”

Vertz exploded. Roaring, he flung himself forward, shouting something incomprehensible. Anderton and Kate dived, one to each side
, and then Olbeck was on Vertz, the officer flinging himself forward, shouting for reinforcements. Anderton pushed Kate towards the door as the uniformed officers stampeded into the room, piling themselves on the struggling Vertz. His wordless shouts resolved themselves into a recognisable word.

“
No, no, no
…”

He continued to scream as they dragged him from the room. Kate could hear
him as he was pulled towards the cells, getting fainter with every step.

His cries were abruptly cut off as the heavy metal door to the cells swung closed with a crash. The silence left behind seemed deafening.

Anderton still had his hand on Kate’s arm. They both looked at it as if suddenly remembering it was there. Anderton removed it quickly.

“You all right?” he asked.

Kate nodded. She was still trembling slightly from the backwash of adrenaline.

“He wasn’t expecting that,” she said.

“No, he wasn’t,” Anderton agreed. He pushed his hands through this hair and dropped them to his sides, exhaling loudly. “There’ll be no more out of him tonight. He won’t be in any fit state.”

Kate nodded. She knew that Vertz was probably being sedated right about now. She took a deep breath. Her trembling gradually stopped
, but she felt empty, hollow, and suddenly depressed.

“Fancy a drink?” said Anderton suddenly.

Kate looked at him in surprise, so shocked she didn’t at first know how to answer.

“Now?” she managed
, after a moment.

“Yes, right now.”

She was still so surprised she agreed without thinking.

Once they were in the pub and sat down with their drinks, the awkwardness between them threatened to return. Kate cast about for something to say, something to break the conversational deadlock, but she couldn’t think of anything that didn’t have some sort of negative connotation. She took a hurried sip of her orange juice.

“Do you ever drink?” asked Anderton abruptly. “Alcohol, I mean.”

Kate shrugged. “Sometimes. At Christmas. It’s just not my thing.”

“Why is that?”

“Does there have to be a reason?”

“There normally is.”

Kate sighed. “My mum’s a drinker. Not exactly an alcoholic but—well, perhaps she is an alcoholic. I don’t really know. She drinks too much, anyway.” Talking of her mother reminded her of Peter and the email she’d discovered. She must look into that when she got home later. “It’s just not something I enjoy, I’m afraid.”

“Don’t apologise.” Anderton turned his pint glass around a few times. “You’ll probably outlive us all.” He looked up into her eyes. “Or perhaps you’ve got plenty of other secret vices.”

Kate smiled in order to hide the sudden physical jolt his words had given her. “I do have a secret fondness for
Gardener’s World
.”

Anderton actually laughed. Then the smile from his face dropped abruptly and another awkward silence fell.

“Sir,” said Kate after a moment, rather hesitatingly. She wasn’t exactly sure what she wanted to say. “This case—”

“What about it?”

Kate sat up a little straighter.  Then she shook her head. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what I’m trying to say. I’m confused.”

“Please tell me you’re not hiding anything else from me that I need to know.”

“No,” said Kate, shocked and a little hurt. “All I mean is—oh, I don’t know. There’s something more to this case than what we’re seeing, what we’re investigating. Can’t you feel it too, sir? There’s something underneath it all that we haven’t got yet.”

Anderton was regarding her intently.
“I think I know what you mean.”

Kate dropped her head momentarily into her hands. When she raised it, she looked Anderton directly in the eye.

“There’s so much
rage
in this case,” she murmured. “Everyone connected with Elodie is just so angry. Vertz. Her mother. Her stepfather. There’s this constant, simmering undercurrent of anger everywhere.”

“Yes, there is.”

Anderton suddenly sounded exhausted. There was another beat of silence. Kate was about to speak again when he pre-empted her.

“I owe you an apology, Kate.”

Kate went blank for a moment.

“You do?” she said.

“Yes. I was totally wrong to speak to you like I did the other day. It was extremely unprofessional of me, and for that I sincerely apologise.”

Kate muttered,
“That’s all right.” What else could she say?

Anderton leaned forward a little.

“I’m not used to apologising,” he said. “‘Never apologise, never explain.’ That was always my motto.”

“Everyone thinks it was Churchill who said that,” said Kate. “But it was actually some Victorian admiral, I can’t remember his name.”

Anderton grinned. “I’ll let you off. Anyway, things…circumstances change. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” said Kate
, a little awkwardly. “I should have come to see you first of all, anyway. It was my fault as—as much as yours.”

Silence returned but this time it was easier. They had nearly reached the end of the drinks
, and Kate opened her mouth to ask if he wanted another. Again, he pre-empted her.

“My marriage is breaking down,” he said. Kate was again so surprised she was struck dumb. Anderton went on. “Well, breaking down
is too positive. It’s broken. It’s over.”

“I’m sorry.”

Anderton leant back in his chair, staring up at the ceiling.

“When you came into my office the other day, I’d just finished a call to my soon-to-be-ex wife. I was barely thinking straight, I was so upset. And then you came in and told me something that, ordinarily, would just merit a brief ticking off. It seemed like the last straw, just then. I blew up
—”

“I know,” said Kate. “I was there.”

Anderton gave her a tired smile. “You chose the worst possible moment and bore the brunt of it. I’m sorry.”

Their eyes met again
, and Kate was again aware of something she’d been forcing down for so long that she’d almost forgotten it was there. Her attraction, her desire for Anderton crystallised in one long, charged moment. What made it worse was that she knew he was suddenly aware of it too. There was a breathless pause in which all the hubbub surrounding them faded away and there was just the two of them, eyes locked, leaning towards each other over the table.

Anderton put a hand over hers.