DS Jessica Daniel series: Locked In/Vigilante/The Woman in Black - Books 1-3 (18 page)

Jessica paused for a moment. ‘No, Sir.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Yes, Sir.’

Aylesbury nodded slowly, his eyes darting across her as if trying to read her thoughts. ‘Cole says Wayne Lapham has been bailed. I think we all know we don’t have enough to keep him
in.’ Jessica nodded but said nothing. ‘I think you should go home for the weekend and then we might need to talk again on Monday, yes?’

‘Yes, Sir.’

Jessica was back in the exact position she had been in what seemed like barely hours ago – sitting with her feet underneath her on the sofa in her flat, mulling over yet
another shambles. It was now early afternoon and the flat was once again empty. Caroline had left her a note on the coffee table in the living room.

‘Gone to lunch and shops. Call if you want to join us. X. C.’

Jessica didn’t fancy either lunch or shopping. She wondered how many more times she could mess something up before someone stepped in to remove her from the case. There were already
rumours the Serious Crime Division were looking to swoop in to hunt the ‘Houdini Strangler’. The SCD had been set up a few years previously and dealt with a wide range of crimes. No one
in CID was really sure whether what they were working on would fall under the remit of the SCD. Certainly any larger gang crime would usually be referred to them but a lot seemed to come down to
how busy the SCD were at any given time. It was often felt that, if they were having a particularly quiet month, they would look for anything decent CID were handling and then take the case on
themselves in order to not have their budget cut. They were just one in many confusing layers of law-enforcement where Jessica often felt not even those involved knew who answered to whom. Everyone
just fought hard to make sure their own departments looked busy and successful when the time came for budgets to be allocated.

She only knew two things about the upcoming week. First, she would be in Aylesbury’s office first thing on Monday, probably for a dressing down, possibly to be taken off the case and maybe
to be suspended outright. Second, she was due in court on Tuesday to face Peter Hunt again. She hoped she would make a better go of it second time around.

Thinking ahead to her court date, she figured now was as good a time as any to phone Harry. It was pushing six months since they had last talked. She flicked through her phone’s list of
contacts and pressed the call button when it got to ‘Harry Thomas’.

It rang once. Twice. Jessica was about to leave a message, as she had done many times, when the line clicked and went silent for a moment. ‘Hello,’ came a voice from the other
end.

‘Harry?’

‘Yeah.’

‘It’s Jessica . . . I . . . I didn’t think you’d answer.’ Silence. ‘Are you okay?’ she continued.

‘How’s the case going?’

He clearly didn’t want to make small talk but would have seen coverage of the ‘Houdini’ case in the papers and on the news.

‘Not great.’

‘Aye, it’s a weird one . . .’

Jessica had no idea what came over her but, for the second time that day, she broke into tears. ‘Oh, Harry . . .’ He didn’t say anything but she tearfully continued. ‘I
don’t know what I’m doing. Things are a mess. We’ve had no leads, no idea how these killings link together and then, when we finally make a connection, I blow it. I let Lapham get
away and, even when we got him back, I screw it up and he’s back out again.’

‘You got him back?’

‘He walked into the station with Peter Hunt this morning.’

‘Hunt?’

‘Yes.’

‘What a shitbag.’

Jessica laughed slightly through the tears. ‘That’s what I said.’

‘You said that?’

‘Yes.’

‘To him?’

‘Yeah.’

Jessica could hear Harry laughing. Huge belly laughs and snorts. And then she was giggling too. She had barely heard Harry that happy even when they worked together. ‘What did he
say?’ Harry managed to ask in between the guffaws.

‘Nothing really. He didn’t get a chance to say anything.’

Harry continued to laugh. ‘That is bloody fantastic.’

Jessica grabbed a box of tissues from the table and blew her nose, the tears now gone. She smiled and tried to stop herself joining in but Harry’s laugh was infectious. It took a while
until both of them had finally stopped. ‘Are you okay, Harry?’

‘Me? Yeah, I’m just a stubborn, silly old man. Don’t you worry about me, detective sergeant.’ He had never had the chance to call her that before. It sounded good. He
sounded proud.

‘We all worry . . .’ Harry said nothing, so Jessica swallowed before continuing. ‘What happened in court?’

Harry didn’t reply for a few moments and she wondered whether he would but then the answer came. ‘Nothing. He wound me up.’

‘He winds everyone up.’

‘Kid’s gonna get off.’

Jessica didn’t want to acknowledge that, not knowing if it was true. ‘What would you do with the case, Harry?’

‘Link the bodies. People don’t kill at random, not really.’

‘We thought Lapham was the link.’

‘Do you still think that?’

‘No.’

Harry paused again. Jessica didn’t know if it was deliberate or if he simply didn’t have anything to say. ‘Some people will do anything to get themselves ahead, detective
sergeant. Or get revenge. Everyone has a dark side. You’d be surprised what can bring it out.’

His statement sounded ominous and Jessica didn’t know how to respond directly, so she changed the subject. ‘Do you know I’m in on Tuesday?’

‘Yes.’

‘Do you fancy a drink afterwards?’

‘Are you buying?’

‘Of course.’

‘I’ll see you there then.’

Considering what happened between Jessica, Wayne Lapham and Peter Hunt had occurred behind closed doors, even she was impressed at how quickly the news had travelled around the
station when she arrived on the Monday morning. As she walked through reception, it felt as if all eyes were on her. People were smiling but Jessica found it unnerving. She was so used to the
gloomy ‘It’s Monday and whatever investigation we’ve got going on is in a complete mess’ looks that she didn’t know how to react to it all. She didn’t even
bother to check in with anyone on the front desk, or visit her own office, she headed for the stairs and the DCI’s office.

She could see him sitting behind his desk and he looked up to notice her walking past the window before she had a chance to knock on the door. He beckoned her in and indicated towards the seat
opposite him. His grey suit looked sharp and newly pressed, while he had a stern, harsh look on his face.

‘DS Daniel,’ was his greeting, as ever. Jessica sat and waited for her boss to speak. ‘On Saturday, I had a very brief conversation with Peter Hunt. Despite it being my day
off, I had a further, much longer conversation with Mr Hunt yesterday over the phone. Today, I came into the station to be given a letter that had been hand-delivered by Mr Hunt for my
attention.’ He paused for a moment, ever the showman. ‘Would you like to guess the contents of either those conversations or the letter?’

‘No, Sir.’

‘In that case, I should give you some good news and bad news – first the bad. Mr Hunt has alleged that in the interview room on Saturday, you threatened his client, Mr Lapham, with
violence. He further alleges that your conduct was completely out of order throughout that interview and that you called him . . .’ The DCI paused, pulling a letter out of an A4 brown
envelope. He scanned down through its contents then continued. ‘. . . that you called him a “shitbag”.’

He looked up from the letter straight at her. ‘How do you answer that?’

She didn’t answer him directly but instead said: ‘What is the good news?’

Aylesbury actually smiled and she saw a twinkle in his eye she had never seen before. ‘The good news for you, DS Daniel, is that I have listened to the recording made and, while some of
your questioning may have been a little
unconventional
, I certainly could hear no threatening remarks. I have spoken to both Cole and the constable stationed outside of the room at the
time, and neither of them are able to corroborate Mr Hunt’s version of events. Given that Mr Lapham has also refused to make any statement of any kind relating to what did or did not happen
during questioning on Saturday, I have informed Mr Hunt that there is very little more I can do.’

It all clicked into place for Jessica. Cole had stopped the tape and left the room, leaving the door only slightly ajar. The constable outside heard nothing – or was happy to say that.
Lapham, meanwhile, would not want any kind of coverage, either public or otherwise, to indicate he might have been intimidated by a female. That meant it was simply Hunt who was left with a
problem.

Aylesbury continued. ‘Mr Hunt has indicated in his letter that he would wish to pursue this matter with Detective Superintendent Davies. I spoke with him a short time ago and informed him
that I believed there was no basis for any action, especially given the lack of cooperation from Mr Hunt’s own client. I should tell you, however, that the superintendent has promised to meet
with Mr Hunt at some point this week. He will make a final decision as to whether or not Internal will be called in.’

DSI Davies was their overall boss but was not based at the station and had been winding down to retirement for a while now. On most decisions he deferred to the local DCI and William Aylesbury
was one of his particular favourites. Jessica guessed on this occasion Hunt’s profile meant a meeting had to be held. She hoped it would just be for courtesy and almost allowed herself a
half-smile.

‘I just have one more question to ask, DS Daniel,’ Aylesbury said, this time giving her the biggest smile she had ever seen him give anyone. ‘Did you
really
call him a
shitbag?’

Jessica said nothing for a moment, weighing up her options. She wasn’t entirely off the hook yet. Given her boss’s demeanour, she replied with the half-smile she had been trying to
stifle. ‘I think it may have been “slimy shitbag”, Sir.’

The DCI laughed much like Harry had two days previously and once again Jessica found herself joining in, albeit it not quite so wholeheartedly as she had with Harry.

‘I would have
loved
to have seen his face,’ the chief inspector managed to say in between guffaws. It didn’t take long for the lighthearted moment to pass and
Aylesbury looked at Jessica to indicate it was time to be serious again. ‘I should of course point out that behaviour like that will not be tolerated and, if you did say anything out of order
towards Mr Lapham, that is exactly the type of practice we do not condone.’

‘Yes, Sir.’

From there it was straight down to business. With Wayne Lapham released and uncooperative about the mysterious man who sold him the stolen goods in the pub, who they both knew probably
didn’t exist, they were back to having no suspect.

The morning briefing went much along those lines. They had found one link but there must either be more to it or something else that joined the two victims. Lapham wasn’t entirely in the
clear either. His mug shot was on the whiteboard with a big question mark underneath it. Officers would be looking into his banking details and phone records to see if there was anything that could
link him to the dates or victims. Jessica thought it likely another minor crime or three would be discovered but doubted he would have much more to do with the main investigation.

Jessica had resolved to go back to the crime scenes that afternoon. The Scene of Crime team had already been over them with little in the way of positive results. The Christensen residence was
still boarded up at the front with the husband, who was still technically paying half the mortgage, deciding what to do with the place. It wasn’t going to be easy selling a house where
someone had recently been murdered inside. Sandra Prince had been discharged from hospital the previous day and Jessica was also going to pay her a visit. It had been her who had first put them on
the tail of Wayne Lapham and maybe she had something else tucked away. Jessica had been in such a hurry to get out of the hospital the previous time when she found out about the burglary, she could
easily have missed something else. She knew the whole of Tuesday was going to be spent either in court or hanging around outside, so figured it was best to try to make something happen today.

The simmering undertone of the briefing was all about Jessica herself. More officers than ever before had said ‘good morning’ or ‘hi’ to her in the hallways. Everyone
clearly knew about her incident, or at least the Hunt part of it, and seemed suitably impressed. She had already been offered six separate ‘drinks from the machine’ which was about as
generous as anyone ever got in the station.

The briefing ended and she sent everyone on their way. The investigation was still in somewhat of a mess given the lack of suspect, motive or method but at least everyone was in a good mood. It
seemed a silly distinction but sometimes people being positive could make something happen.

Officers had begun to leave the room when Jessica saw Rowlands calling her over, flicking his head and pulling a face. To others it might seem a somewhat disrespectful way to initiate a
conversation but Jessica didn’t mind. He was standing near the back of the room, slightly away from any of the other departing officers. She walked over to him, fully expecting some crack
about her car, Hunt, or something else that wasn’t very funny.

‘All right?’ she asked.

‘I’ve had a thought.’

‘Well, it’s been twenty-eight years. It had to happen sometime.’

Rowlands gave a half-smile but didn’t take the bait. ‘No, seriously.’

‘Go on then.’

‘There is this guy I used to go to uni with who is now a part-time magician . . .’

‘That’s a serious thought?’

‘No, honestly. Listen, I was asking him about how you could get in and out of something that was locked.’

‘Are you taking the piss?’

‘We don’t have any better ideas, do we?’

Jessica raised her eyebrows but had to concede they didn’t. ‘What did he say?’