DS Jessica Daniel series: Locked In/Vigilante/The Woman in Black - Books 1-3 (111 page)

It was after eleven at night when Jessica finally got around to packing the things she needed to stay at Caroline’s.

Rowlands picked her up from her house the next morning. Jessica found the journey relatively stressful, largely because of the motorway traffic jams and the fact she hadn’t slept much. Her
colleague kept fishing to ask who she was taking to the wedding but she ignored him. Jessica wouldn’t have admitted it to him but Rowlands was a pretty good driver. He weaved them in and out
of the slow-moving traffic, getting them off at the correct junction without too much hassle before finding the police station as if he had memorised the route.

As they pulled up, Jessica hurried out of the car, leaving her colleague to offer a sarcastic ‘You’re welcome’.

‘You’ll get your thanks when you get me back to Manchester in time,’ Jessica called, not looking backwards.

The police station was a lot smaller than the one they were used to back at Longsight. It was on the outskirts of Nottingham in a little community of its own. It had just one storey and an
unmanned front desk where Jessica had to ring a bell to summon someone to meet them. Sam Kellett had been let go the previous evening and asked to return to be interviewed the next day. According
to the officer Jessica had spoken to, the woman was fine with that but was worried about her husband finding out she had visited the police.

Jessica’s instinct told her those were the actions of someone shocked to see their own face on the news, not a person who had spent the last few weeks chopping off hands and leaving them
in public.

After ringing the bell, nobody came to the reception. Jessica shared a sideways look with Rowlands but wasn’t in the mood to be messed around. She started banging the bell with the palm of
her hand repeatedly until eventually a red-faced overweight woman bundled into the area behind the glass counter.

‘Oi, what do you think . . .’ the woman started to say angrily but Jessica took her identification out of her pocket.

‘We’re down from Manchester to interview Samantha Kellett. I was assured you’d have a room ready for us.’

The woman glanced up at a clock behind her on the wall. ‘You’re a bit early like.’

Jessica nodded. ‘Yep, we’re an efficient bunch up north.’ She wasn’t annoyed with the woman as such and knew the over-zealous ringing of the bell was a little childish
given the station was most likely very understaffed. Ultimately, she wanted things sorted one way or the other so she could get back to Manchester.

The officer behind the counter unlocked a nearby door, ushering Jessica and Rowlands through. ‘Sorry, there are just three of us in today. We’d love to be as
efficient
as
you but we have budgets to stick to and so on.’

Jessica said nothing, knowing she deserved the little dig. The woman led them down a short corridor through a locked door and into an interview room that wasn’t too dissimilar to the one
Jessica was used to at Longsight. Neither looked as if they had been updated in the past fifteen years with peeling dreary cream paint on the walls and a sweaty musty smell.

The other officer stood in the doorway as Jessica and Rowlands stepped into the room. She gave a big sigh before speaking. ‘In our notes it says Samantha Kellett is due to be back here by
ten o’clock so you’ve got half an hour. You can hang around here and make sure everything’s up to your
standards
or there’s a coffee machine just down the hall.
We’ll make sure she’s brought through when she gets here. Is there anything else I can help you with?’

Jessica was definitely feeling a little silly for her earlier outburst and the other officer was clearly annoyed.

‘Does your tea machine spit out drinks that taste vaguely of washing-up liquid the way ours does?’ Jessica asked.

The woman stared at them for a moment then laughed. ‘I guess that’s the standard nationwide. Don’t risk the hot chocolate either, that tastes worse.’

‘Thanks for the tip.’

When they were alone, Jessica checked the recording equipment over and everything seemed in a better condition than theirs, which wasn’t a surprise. It didn’t take long before there
was a knock at the door and a nervous-looking young male officer showed Sam into the room.

Jessica could see a lot of herself in the woman. They were roughly the same age and had the same figure. The woman’s hair was black, Jessica’s was a dark blonde, but they both had it
in loose ponytails and were even dressed similarly. Jessica was wearing a light grey work suit, Sam’s was slightly darker.

The woman sat across the table from them and, when the door was shut, Jessica introduced herself and Rowlands and checked Sam’s name. ‘You do know you’re allowed a legal
representative with you,’ she added.

‘I don’t need one,’ Sam said confidently.

‘Are you sure? We can arrange for someone to talk to you for free.’

‘It’s fine, I haven’t done anything.’

‘As long as you’re absolutely positive.’

Sam looked determinedly at Jessica. ‘Why did you put my picture on the news?’

‘We’re investigating . . .’ Jessica started to say but she was interrupted.

‘I had to lie to my husband and tell him it wasn’t me. He pointed out how similar I looked to the photograph and I had to say I didn’t know anything about it.’

‘So you admit it is you in the photograph with Edward Marks?’

The woman twitched ever so slightly as if trying to suppress a full-on shiver at the mention of the name. ‘What of it?’

‘Can I ask you how you knew Mr Marks?’

Sam’s eyes narrowed. ‘Do you already know?’

‘We’ve been told . . . certain things.’

‘So why do you need me to tell you?’

‘Because we don’t know if what was told to us is true.’

The woman sighed, looking away. ‘Why are you bringing this back up? It was over ten years ago. I’ve moved on.’ For the first time her voice faltered slightly.

Jessica wasn’t usually nervous in interviews but she knew this one wasn’t going to get her anything. Everything about the way the woman had spoken initially and how she had handed
herself in indicated she had nothing to hide. ‘Do you know what happened to Mr Marks and his friends from that holiday?’ she asked.

The woman turned sharply and looked back at Jessica. ‘I don’t care.’

‘One is definitely dead, the other five are assumed murdered.’

‘I saw about the hands on the news. What does it matter?’

‘Because you’re the one connection we have that goes back to the six of them.’ Jessica paused and then added, ‘And, from what we’ve been told, you might well have
had the motive.’

Sam snorted, looking away with tears in her eyes. ‘You’re joking, right? I mean, when I read about the picture you’d released I wondered why you wanted me. I thought perhaps
you might have thought I was a witness to something, maybe even that you wanted to investigate what happened back then. I should have known you were going to accuse me of, I don’t know,
whatever. It’s like those shit cop shows.’

‘We’re not accusing you of anything.’

‘Why am I here then?’ Sam was shouting now, emotional, standing and pushing back her chair.

Jessica was lost for words and surprised when Rowlands spoke. ‘It’s okay, Sam.’ They were the first words he had uttered since the woman had entered the room. The outcome was
strange because he had only said three words but it was almost as if hearing her own name calmed the woman. Sam looked at him and regained her composure, sitting and staring back at Jessica.

‘We’re not out to trip you up,’ Jessica said, trying to sound reassuring.

‘What do you want to know?’

‘I know it’s going to be hard but can you tell us what happened on holiday eleven years ago?’

Sam looked sideways to Dave, who gave a small nod. The woman said she had initially enjoyed a holiday romance with Edward but then went on to confirm more or less everything Steven Povey had
told them. Her mood veered from anger to upset and back again before eventually finishing calmly.

‘This is the first time I’ve told anyone about this since it happened,’ she added. ‘My husband doesn’t know and we’ve been together for five years.
We’ve got two kids.’

Sam seemed steady and Jessica made sure she was all right to continue talking. The woman nodded, and said she wanted everything finished with. ‘We have got to ask you about your
whereabouts over the past few weeks,’ Jessica said.

‘Can I use my phone? My diary is on there.’

Jessica ran through the dates the hands had been left, as well as the nights before and a few other random times in between. With the exception of one instance, Sam had an alibi for everything.
She helped out in clubs for her children and her family had recently been on a week-long holiday with friends. Rowlands took notes of everything and it would be checked discreetly but Jessica knew
it would all match up. With her husband also with her on the holiday, it seemed to rule him out too.

Sam asked if they could keep everything from her husband and Jessica assured her they would try. He wasn’t a suspect and, although they would check the details of the holiday and make sure
he was there, it didn’t necessarily mean he had to be informed. The woman repeated she had never told anyone, including her parents, about what had happened, insisting she’d had no
contact with any of the men after that night in Faliraki. Jessica believed her and asked for the woman’s maiden name, if only for their records.

They released her and Jessica gave the woman her card just in case she managed to think of anything. Jessica phoned Cole to tell him what had happened but the car journey back to Manchester
proved to be something of an inquest, the only positive that they would be back in plenty of time for Jessica to get to Caroline’s house.

‘Poor woman,’ Rowlands said.

‘It’s my fault,’ Jessica replied. ‘I didn’t know what else to do and ended up sticking her face on the news for no reason other than the fact she was attacked
eleven years ago. She spent all this time getting over it then I punished her for it.’

‘It wasn’t your fault,’ Dave said but Jessica knew it was. It didn’t matter that she hadn’t had many other options; it was her who had gone to the DCI and asked to
work with the press office. Jessica didn’t reply but it wasn’t long before Rowlands asked the question she knew she didn’t have the answer to. ‘What do we do now?’

Unless another hand showed up unexpectedly, they were completely out of leads. ‘I really don’t know,’ Jessica said, not even trying to hide her dejection.

Between the two of them, they went over everything that had happened so far. They still had the CCTV footage of the woman in black but no clue as to the person’s identity and, now that Sam
Kellett had pretty much been ruled out – although it would take some time to officially check her alibis – no reason why the person was making things so public.

They could return to the lists of college-leavers but everything had already been gone over once and, as the holiday photo had shown, the links between the young men could be widespread and
unexpected. Jessica felt deflated and unsure what she should do next.

Because of the light traffic, they had time to go via the station. Jessica went to Cole’s office, reiterating what she had told him on the phone. She would arrange for an officer to
formally check Sam Kellett’s whereabouts but had no doubts it would be accurate.

Cole said the garage owner had started to speak in the Johnson case. The man apparently had text messages that could implicate George Johnson but the chief inspector said that was information
that couldn’t get out. Jessica felt strange that something so big was going on where she worked but that she wasn’t a part of it and even worse that her case had stalled. They agreed to
leave things over the weekend, which would give them a chance to think things over, then decide where to go next on Monday. It wasn’t ideal but, with Caroline’s wedding, Jessica
didn’t have any better ideas.

Jessica tried to have a fun evening with her friend on her ‘last evening of freedom’ party as Caroline had dubbed it. The two women drank and reminisced about their
younger days. Jessica tried to put to the back of her mind the feelings of failure and inertia at having her investigation come to a halt. She happily shared bottles of wine and the more she drank,
the more she felt able to laugh and join in. Caroline asked who she was bringing the following day but Jessica remained tight-lipped. ‘You don’t know him,’ was all she would say,
adding she had arranged to meet the person at the church.

The Saturday morning was a rush of people coming and going from Caroline’s flat. The bride-to-be had a small team of her friends and relatives from the groom’s side coming round to
help her get ready, with Jessica left to sort herself and the other bridesmaids into their light blue dresses. The two younger bridesmaids were relatively cooperative and their parents were also
present to help, which was a relief. The girly atmosphere wasn’t really to her taste and she was glad when everyone had finally left and it was just her and Caroline alone waiting for the car
to take them to the church. The bride anxiously watched the clock on her wall as Jessica tried to assure her everything would be fine.

The car was on time, as Jessica said it would be, and she helped her friend into the rear seat. As the driver set off for the short journey, the two women were sitting next to each other but
turned so they could talk face-to-face.

‘It’s really happening,’ Caroline said with a nervous giggle.

Jessica smiled back. ‘I wondered what all the dresses and fancy car were about.’

Caroline laughed again. ‘What do you think of Thomas?’

‘He picked you, so he’s got pretty good taste.’

‘I’ve been wondering if I’m on the rebound because of . . . y’know, Randall.’ Caroline’s voice had dropped at the mention of his name and she paused for a
moment before continuing. ‘I’m sorry things drifted between us after that.’

Jessica looked into her friend’s eyes. ‘It’s not your fault. Things happened and it’s where we are now that matters.’

‘Do you think I’m on the rebound?’