Mike went over Oates’s initial interview, concentrating on his comments about Rebekka Jordan and the girl he referred to as Julia, and asked if it was a correct account of what he had
said. Oates nodded and Mike asked him if he could take that as a yes. Mike then asked him if it was still his position that he had made up admitting to the murder of the two girls and again Oates
nodded. Mike pointed out for the benefit of the DVD recorder that Oates had nodded yes to his questions and asked Kumar if that was correct and Kumar agreed that his client had indicated yes.
Paul Barolli was finding the interview a deeply frustrating waste of time, especially if Mike was only going to go over what had been said before, as it was clear that Oates would say he had
already seen the ‘Misper’ poster for Fidelis Julia Flynn. Mike produced the poster and slid it across the desk in front of the prisoner.
‘This is Fidelis Julia Flynn from Dublin, aged twenty-one, and as you can see she has ginger hair. She went missing about a year and a half ago. Do you recognize her?’
‘Is that the poster you saw, Henry?’ Kumar interjected, and Oates nodded. ‘As you can see, officer, Henry is a bit under the weather today but he would like you to be aware
that he recognizes the poster and its details although not Miss Flynn personally.’
‘So you only remembered the name Julia from the poster and you recited the details as part of your having a laugh whilst making up you killed her,’ Mike suggested. Oates again
nodded, then, encouraged by Kumar, answered yes. Barolli couldn’t believe that Mike was not only asking such a question but was also giving Oates the answer as well. Thinking the interview
would now end he had his finger ready to press the ‘off’ button when Mike raised his hand, indicating he hadn’t finished.
‘Can you tell me, Mr Oates, how you knew she was an exchange student?’
Oates, without looking, pointed at the ‘Misper’ poster and Kumar accused Mike of going round in circles.
‘Mr Oates has just pointed to the poster of Fidelis Julia Flynn. Is that correct, Mr Kumar?’
‘DCI Lewis, what is the point in continuing this interview? Henry, you’re not denying you said she was an exchange student, are you?’
‘No, it was on the poster.’
Mike deliberately paused, saying nothing. Both Barolli and Kumar were perplexed, but Mike waited until Oates looked up at him, picked up the poster and held it in front of Oates’s
face.
‘Show me on this where it says she was an exchange student.’
Oates took hold of the poster and traced his finger along the information on it and his demeanour began to change. Kumar leaned over to look.
‘Look as much as you like, the word “exchange” is not there.’
‘I read it somewhere – it must have been on another poster about her.’
‘No. All the posters, large or small, were the same. One of my staff confirmed it with her parents this morning. Julia was, as you rightly said, an exchange student from Dublin
University.’
‘Someone told me but I can’t remember who.’ Oates then sat upright and looked Mike in the eyes.
‘You’ve never seen the poster until now. You knew about her because you met her, didn’t you?’
‘I think you said to me, DCI Lewis, that she was an exchange student.’
‘How could I tell you something I didn’t know, Mr Kumar?’
‘I made it up,’ Oates said and then asked to be taken to his cell. Kumar insisted that he needed to speak with him but Oates just stood up and walked towards the door, hurriedly
followed by the solicitor.
‘What a good guess, Mr Oates. I will keep digging and finding more evidence against you and each time I do I will come back and interview you again. Interview terminated 10.45
a.m.’
Mike turned on the ignition as Barolli got into the car beside him.
‘That bastard Kumar schooled him about Fidelis Julia Flynn. I wondered where on earth you were going with the interview but you really fucked him with her being an exchange
student.’
‘Not as much as I hoped – it’s circumstantial and doesn’t take us much further,’ Mike pointed out, shifting into gear.
‘Do you think Kumar will prime him to say that he did meet Julia but didn’t kill her?’ asked Paul.
‘Kumar makes me want to puke. He knows Oates is lying but won’t encourage him to give it up. We need to find some direct evidence so we can get him out of prison and back in police
custody for a few days. Then we can really put the pressure on him.’
Mike knew it was going to be hard to report the outcome of their interview with Oates to Langton as they were no farther forwards with the Rebekka Jordan case. It was clear to both officers that
Oates had met Fidelis Julia Flynn but they both knew that, without a witness, that fact alone, even if Oates admitted it, would never be enough to charge him with her abduction or murder.
A
nna had spent most of Sunday night in bed reading the dense file on Rebekka Jordan, eventually falling asleep at around 3 a.m. A number of items
were jumbled and she had carefully taken her own notes, marking down dates, times, interviews and witnesses, and read some of the hundreds of statements covering over twelve months. Langton’s
scrawled writing was over many of the pages; some details were underlined or highlighted. There were also lots of photographs of Rebekka, her parents and siblings, and a thick dossier of press
cuttings. There were DVD recordings of the CCTV footage and the television reconstruction, plus home videos from Rebekka’s family, which she had yet to watch.
After the prison visit Lewis dropped Paul Barolli off at the station and told him to write up the Henry Oates interview report while he went to the pathology lab to collect the
interim post mortem report on Justine Marks and get an update from the forensic department as well. He wondered whether he should phone Langton to tell him about the interview with Oates but
decided that rather than keep calling him while he was off sick he would read the post mortem report and speak with the forensic scientist first so he could give as full an update as possible. He
knew however that Langton’s main concern would be any developments in the Jordan case.
On arrival at the lab Mike decided to go to the forensic department first to speak to Pete Jenkins, the lead scientist who was overseeing the Justine Marks case. He had
examined her high-heeled leather boots, confirming that the direction of the scuffmarks was consistent with her being dragged backwards along the pavement. Justine’s silk skirt, torn blouse,
tights and knickers were all stained with her blood, and they had found traces of Oates’s semen on the vaginal swabs. Strands of her hair were on the larger end of the heavy-duty spanner,
along with Oates’s palm print on the shaft. The fact that there was no blood on that end of the spanner suggested he had only struck her once with it, but the extent of the man’s
depravity was revealed when, sickeningly, the scientist said that on the other end of the spanner they had found vaginal discharge, skin tissue and blood matching Justine’s DNA. As Mike
listened to the scientist’s findings his growing contempt for Henry Oates boiled within him as it became even clearer how evil and calculating a liar he was.
After visiting the forensic lab Mike went to the pathology department and collected the interim report on Justine Mark’s post mortem. He had not eaten since breakfast and
decided to browse through the report while he grabbed some lunch at the lab canteen and look for any links to Pete Jenkins’ forensic results. As Mike knew, Justine Marks had a severe head
wound at the back of her skull and the indentation had a half-moon appearance. The pathologist had now looked at the heavy-duty spanner recovered from the back of Oates’s van, and observed
that Justine’s head injury was indeed consistent in shape and size with the larger end of it and he confirmed that the blow would most certainly have rendered her unconscious. She had a
perforated right eardrum and there was blood in her nostrils and mouth. Mike, having seen Justine’s body at the mortuary and discussed the external injuries with the pathologist, flicked
through the report to the internal examination details. As expected, the pathologist had found injuries consistent with Justine being violently sexually assaulted with one end of the spanner. Also
of interest was that dissection of the neck had revealed that the muscle tissue around her throat was bruised and the hyoid bone fractured, indicating she had been strangled, possibly by use of her
bra, which was found around her neck. The concluding paragraph gave the cause of death, pending further tests on her brain, as asphyxiation by ligature. Although they had no witnesses to Justine
Marks’ abduction and murder, it was clear from the pathology and forensic evidence that Oates had intentionally murdered Justine. Even to a hardened and experienced detective like Mike Lewis
it was horrific to contemplate that Fidelis Julia Flynn and the thirteen-year-old Rebekka Jordan could have suffered the same terrifying death as Justine Marks had at the hands of Henry Oates.
Anna woke early, had a quick shower and then, still in her dressing gown, began to sift through the numerous DVDs and videos from Rebekka Jordan’s file. She watched the
CCTV footage three times before slotting in the television reconstruction, followed by the numerous interviews to the press by Rebekka’s parents. Lastly, Anna watched a home video of the
victim. There were various scenes that had been edited together, which showed the pretty girl from around the age of eight, at birthday parties, or on a trampoline with her blonde hair loose as she
jumped up and down laughing, demonstrating her prowess as she performed a variety of tumbles and somersaults. She was magical to watch. There was extensive footage of Rebekka riding in gymkhanas,
again proving her athletic ability as she flew over jumps with ease. Then came a poignant clip of the girl having her hair brushed by her mother and showing the loss of her milk teeth, giving a
funny gapped smile to the camera. Next she was holding up some small figurines to the camera and calling them by various names. Finally, there she was singing, in an ivory white angel dress for a
Nativity play. Then the screen went blank.
Anna was about to press rewind when another image of Rebekka dancing with her mother appeared on the screen. This was obviously where Rebekka got her looks from, as her mother was blonde,
attractive and elegant as they waltzed together. It was a very touching moment when the mother twirled her around and the little girl’s dress billowed out, but something else caught
Anna’s attention. Pausing the action, she stared at the screen, certain that the doll’s house behind them was the same one she had seen in Langton’s flat. Although Anna had still
not read up on all the statements and enquiry results for Rebekka Jordan, she felt, having read Langton’s investigation report, that she knew enough to begin her enquiry. She arrived at the
station just after nine and went straight to the incident room on the second floor. Joan Falkland was carrying a coffee and buttered teacake to her desk as Anna took off her coat.
‘Hello, Joan. Where can I park myself?’ she asked as she put her briefcase and the large box containing the Jordan files on the floor.
Joan looked at her with surprise, and at the same time gestured over to an empty desk. ‘We’re short of space in here but DCI Lewis is trying to get us moved to a bigger
office.’
‘Is Mike in?’
‘He’s gone to Wandsworth Prison with Paul Barolli so he may be some time yet. I can let him know you called in.’
‘That’s okay, I’m not in a rush.’
Joan began to mark up notes on the incident board, assuming Anna had popped in to speak with Mike Lewis.
‘You going to introduce me?’ Anna asked.
‘Oh sorry, ma’am, yes of course. Everyone, this is DCI Anna Travis.’
Joan introduced her to two clerical staff and three DCs attached to the case, adding that DC Barbara Maddox was having breakfast. Anna had worked with Joan, Barbara and Paul on four previous
cases. With Mike heading up the investigation she wondered how the team would react to her taking over the Rebekka Jordan investigation.
‘What’s the canteen like?’
‘Good. You want a coffee?’
‘If you’re having one, yes thank you.’
‘Want anything with it, teacake, toast?’
‘Nope, just coffee.’
In the canteen Barbara was gossiping with a colleague as Joan joined them.
‘You are not going to believe it. DCI Travis is upstairs in the incident room.’
‘What’s she want?’ Barbara said as she squirted tomato ketchup over her poached eggs and tomato.
‘Come to see Mike Lewis, didn’t say why.’
‘Langton was on the phone earlier, kept going on and on about his knee surgery. He left a message for Mike to contact him, but didn’t mention Travis. She’s in charge of that
specialist unit so it must have come from him, you know how friendly those two were.’
Joan nodded in agreement. ‘She looks well. It was terrible what happened to her. I often think about it, you know. One minute you’re congratulating her on getting engaged and then
the next minute he’s been murdered.’
‘She’s worked a couple of cases since then,’ Barbara pointed out.
‘I know, I know, I was just saying how it affected me, and she was straight back to work. I wouldn’t have been able to cope at all. Langton had to tell her, you know, he got the call
at the station. I will never forget that day. You okay for coffee? I’m taking one up to her.’
Barbara gave a sarcastic cooing sound and then leaned close to whisper, ‘Bringing her in over Mike’s head is going to cause problems, believe me – he’s anxious enough as
it is.’
‘It’s rare but I have worked with two DCIs on the same case before. And let’s face it, we’ve no further details about the other two cases we’ve now got to work
on.’
‘Well I’m just saying her presence isn’t going to help matters.’
‘I’ll get her coffee then we’d better get back up there. You know what she’s like, God forbid we start off on the wrong foot with her.’
‘I haven’t finished my breakfast,’ Barbara said.
‘I’m sure that’s all you’re worried about, Barbara, you just want to stir it up. I’ve always got along with her and I know why you haven’t.’