DS Jessica Daniel series: Locked In/Vigilante/The Woman in Black - Books 1-3 (52 page)

‘You know who did it?’

‘Maybe . . . Sort of . . . Well, not really.’ Garry had a puzzled look on his face and was clearly annoyed at himself for not bringing a pen. He still had the notepad on his lap and
was running his fingers along the side as Jessica continued speaking. ‘The labs have tested and re-tested the samples and each time it comes back as a match for someone who is already in
prison.’

‘Oh . . . What, like
prison
prison?’

‘What other types of prison are there?’

‘Er, I don’t know.’

Jessica rolled her eyes. ‘Yes,
prison
prison. You know that giant great bloody building at Strangeways.’

‘Yeah, sorry. Well, what do you think?’

‘Honestly? I don’t know. We’ve been to Strangeways and spoken to the people there. The prison guard that was killed was the head warden on the person’s wing.’

‘Blimey. Is that why you think he was corrupt?’

‘We don’t know. Perhaps – but the point is all the coverage this morning, it’s just not fair. Four people are dead and that’s been lost with all this stuff about
them somehow deserving it.’

‘Do
you
think they deserved it?’

Jessica had been gazing at the windscreen, watching the water run down the outside of the glass, but stopped and looked directly at the person sitting next to her, waiting for him to meet her
eyes. ‘It doesn’t matter what I think.’

Garry nodded as Jessica looked away again, continuing to speak. ‘Craig Millar, the first victim, his mother’s terrific and he’s got a younger brother. Not only have they lost a
son and brother but now they’ve got all you lot calling him a shit on the front page. The guard has a wife, Carla. Her husband’s body hasn’t even been released back to her to be
buried yet and you are all saying he was bent. It’s not right.’

The two of them didn’t say anything for a few moments, the only noise the echo of the rain falling on the car’s roof and windscreen. Garry broke the silence. ‘Why did you call
me?’

‘Because you’re the only reporter I think I can actually trust. I want you to talk to Craig Millar’s mother and ask her about her son. Write something to say these victims
are
victims.’

‘It’s not my department any longer and, even if it was, I don’t know if my editor would print it. I’m not sure I should really be taking orders from the police either . .
.’

‘Fair enough. Look, I’m not trying to tell you what you should and shouldn’t do but you do at least know what’s going on now.’

‘Can you tell me the prisoner’s name?’

‘He’s not been charged with anything so I don’t think it’s a good idea.’

‘Is he going to be?’

‘I don’t know. I doubt it. If you were on a jury would you find someone locked in a prison cell guilty of a crime on the outside?’

‘Good point. So what are you working on now?’

‘Blind hope that someone somewhere will call that number in your paper today and fill the gaps in for us. Craig Millar was walking home with two brothers that night but we’ve ruled
them out. We found some drugs when we raided one of their houses. He’s been charged but they’re terrified they could be next. After them, aside from our guy, we don’t really have
much. If we can find another link from him to the victims then we could have something to work on. I think the guard could have been that link and maybe that’s why he was killed but I guess
we’ll never know.’

Jessica had told Garry everything she had planned to. The journalist said he would try to speak to the first victim’s mother but that there wasn’t much he could do with the prison
information at that time. ‘If you’ve not released it and I don’t have anything else to go on, my editor’s going to think I’m crazy if I go in talking about a prisoner
being the prime suspect,’ he said.

Although she realised he was right, Jessica didn’t know what she was hoping to achieve but it was some sort of rebellion against the media campaign her superior had apparently started the
previous day. She drove the reporter back to the city centre and dropped him off around the corner from his office.

Over a year ago she had told him not to call her for quotes for his stories any longer but let him know she was lifting the ban. ‘You’ve got my number. Just be discreet if you call,
okay?’

Jessica hated driving in the middle of the city on a weekday but the fact it was wet made things even worse. Workers with hoods up and umbrellas being blown from side to side crossed the road
with barely a look and the blowers in her car weren’t good enough to keep the windscreen clear. She found herself constantly leaning forwards to wipe steam away from the window and it took
her nearly forty minutes to make what should have been a fifteen-minute drive back to the station.

As soon as she turned onto the road the station was on she saw the rows of vans with satellite dishes on top lined up, meaning the rolling news stations were there. She pulled into the station
and, although she had seen worse media scrums at the entrance, there were a few reporters being shielded under umbrellas doing pieces to camera.

She parked and dashed across the car park through the station’s front doors. The television that sat in the reception area was usually turned off but was currently tuned into one of the
news channels. Across the bottom of the screen were the words: ‘Vigilante: good or bad?’. There seemed to be some sort of debate going on between the host and a couple of guests about
whether or not it was ever acceptable to take the law into your own hands. To Jessica it wasn’t that much different from the trashy talk shows she pretended she didn’t watch –
except for the fact this was actually masquerading as something high-brow.

The whole of the entrance was wet where people had walked in dripping from the rain. There was a yellow plastic triangle sign on the ground saying ‘caution wet floor’. Considering it
was back by the desk, Jessica thought it was probably redundant as you would only have seen it after you had already walked through the puddles. The thought ran through her mind that she could fake
a slip and make some spurious no-win no-fee claim about the sign not being in the right place. The few thousand pounds she would hope for could at least tide her over while someone else sorted out
this mess.

Dismissing the idea, she nodded to the desk sergeant and made her way through to the main floor, looking for Rowlands. He wasn’t at his desk but DC Jones was sitting at hers. Jessica
walked over and sat on the corner of the desk. ‘Have you seen Dave?’

‘I think he’s in the canteen.’

Jessica went to stand up but the constable continued speaking. ‘Hey, is it true you’re off out with some guy from Bradford Park?’

‘I really don’t know how these things get around.’

Jessica had inadvertently given a half-smile though, which her friend had clearly noticed. ‘I hope it goes all right. Are you gonna text me afterwards?’

‘I’ll think about it.’

Jessica walked out of the room, back towards reception and then along the corridor to the canteen.

She saw Rowlands eating at one of the tables opposite one of the female uniformed officers. She sat next to the woman and coughed, making eye contact with the constable, who took the hint.
‘Give us a minute, yeah?’ he said to the officer opposite him. The other female stood up and moved to sit a few tables away.

‘It’s not what you think,’ Rowlands said.

‘Whatever. Look, Dave, let’s just say that hypothetically you had been talking to a certain journalist last year that you shouldn’t have been. Let’s say that I had put a
stop to it even though neither you nor that fictional journalist reckoned you had any knowledge of each other. Well, let’s now say that the ban that was in effect has now been
lifted.’

Rowlands put down the fork and looked at her. ‘I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about but, let’s say that I did, is there a particular reason why you have changed
your mind?’

‘That doesn’t matter but you should definitely choose what you talk about a little more selectively than last time.’

Rowlands nodded, picking his fork up again and scooping another mouthful.

‘You should be careful eating in here,’ Jessica added. ‘Jason reckons he was once out of action for a week after a dodgy lasagne from this place.’

Rowlands patted his stomach. ‘Yeah, but he doesn’t have my abs. Body’s a temple and all that.’

‘Maybe one of those temples that got bombed during the Blitz. What have they got you working on?’

‘After the briefing this morning, they put most of us doing shifts on the phones for people calling in. The chief inspector has made us take staggered breaks so we have enough people
working. I was on for two hours this morning.’

‘Get anything useful?’

‘Mainly just people calling in to say we should give the vigilante a job, rather than try to stop him.’

Jessica sighed. ‘Typical.’

‘There was one woman who asked if we could send whoever the vigilante is round her way to take care of some neighbour causing her problems.’

‘Next thing you know we’re going to have people dressing up as superheroes and patrolling the streets.’

‘As long as it’s one of those girls with the big boots and low-cut tops I’m all for it.’

Jessica shook her head and stood up. ‘Do you know if the DCI is upstairs?’

‘Dunno. He was pretty hyper at the briefing. I’ve never seen him like that. He was bloody smiling.’

‘Christ, the end of the world must really be nigh.’

Jessica left the canteen and went up to Farraday’s office. She could see through the windows he was inside but he was on the phone and held his hand up to indicate she should wait. After a
few minutes, he put the receiver down and waved her in. ‘Daniel. How was your morning out?’

‘Okay, Sir. I just thought I should double-check a few things.’

Her superior nodded. ‘Good thinking. I take it you saw all the coverage this morning?’

‘Yes, Sir. It was pretty hard to miss.’

He grinned unnervingly at her. She had seen him laugh and smile before but it didn’t happen often and was particularly out of place considering they had a serious investigation going on.
‘We’ve got a warrant for the bent warden’s house and will be going in shortly. Cole is with that team. I spoke to the labs this morning but they’ve not come up with anything
from the body.’

‘Have you heard anything from the prison?’

Farraday laughed as loud as she had ever heard. ‘I had the super on this morning. The governor called him earlier, furious about the stuff in the papers. Apparently he was going on about
how nothing had been proven and that it would undermine his staff. I would have
loved
to have taken that call.’

‘What did the super say?’

‘Not much, just that we’d have to try to keep the media under wraps.’

‘Where do you reckon they got the information about the warden from?’ Jessica was careful not to phrase her question in an accusing way.

‘No idea. Maybe they’re not all completely useless? At least with the information out there we might get a few useful calls in.’

‘What would you like me to do now?’

‘Not much. Finish up whatever paperwork you have then go home and have a good weekend. Calls have started to come in so it’s just a waiting game for now. If this guy’s for real
we might get lucky and have another piece of shit off the streets by Monday.’

Jessica said nothing but there was something incredibly unsettling about her boss’s attitude.

Even though they were both scheduled to be off work, Jessica phoned DI Cole the next morning. He was with his kids but did tell her they had found nothing of note at Lee
Morgan’s house. If the warden had large bundles of cash hidden away somewhere, he had taken the location to the grave. Jessica was glad she hadn’t been a part of that raid. Carla had
told her how pleased she was with the state of the house and, having just lost her husband, seeing the search team tear her home apart would have been traumatic.

Jessica had bought that morning’s
Herald
and there was a small article with Garry Ashford’s byline. It was an interview with Denise Millar where she talked about her son and
highlighted a few of the good things he had done in the area. Jessica had to admit there wasn’t much but he did regularly help out with a local youth group. The story was buried on page
eleven, behind ten pages of speculation about the apparent vigilante and more debate as to whether or not people should be taking the law into their own hands.

The coverage was difficult to get away from. It was leading local and national television news bulletins and had a presence on the front of every national newspaper. Well, except one, which
instead had a nearly topless photo of a reality TV star Jessica only half-recognised.

Jessica texted Caroline to see how her friend was doing but their back-and-forth messages fizzled out quickly, as they always seemed to now. She spent the weekend doing very little, which was
unusual for her. Frequently she would end up going to the station on her days off, if only for a few hours, or arrange to meet up with Carrie for an evening out or in. Given the way things were
going, she felt as if she needed a couple of days away from everything work-wise – Farraday in particular.

She did some tidying around her flat, something else that was out of the ordinary and watched hours of bad television. Jessica wasn’t particularly in the mood for meeting up with Adam but
felt even less like cancelling on him. There was no way she was going to be left on her own waiting for him, so she deliberately caught a slightly later bus on her way into the city centre on the
Sunday.

Jessica had texted him the address for where to meet and saw him sitting in the window as she walked from the bus stop. The place they were meeting was a nice cafe Jessica knew next to an
independent cinema in an area where mainly students lived. It hadn’t been a particularly sunny day but it was at least still daylight as she walked.

Adam seemed a little glum and was staring at his phone pressing buttons as Jessica spotted him. Jessica did that herself when she wanted to look occupied in a public place. As he looked up and
saw her through the glass, his expression instantly changed, realising he hadn’t been stood up.