Dead of Night, page 24
part #7 of D.I. Tom Mariner Series
‘Sure,’ he said. ‘I’ll wait here.’
Terrified that he might change his mind and go without her, Tiffany hurried back into the club, past the bouncers. But once inside, the prospect of walking into the heaving, throbbing mass on the dance floor to try and explain to her friends defeated her; it would take too much time. So instead she got out her phone. She felt a thrill of excitement anyway texting Lex to say: Met a gr8 man! Cu 2moro. After he’d made love to her, she would take a picture of him on her phone. She might be a slow starter, but now they’d see that poor old Tiffany had made it worth the wait.
Mariner was pacing the living room in his boxers, his phone clamped to his ear. He’d tried West Mercia first, hoping that the crime scene photographer could email him through some pictures, but getting hold of him proved impossible, so in desperation he’d phoned Stuart Croghan.
‘Jesus, it’s the middle of the night,’ Croghan grumbled, in case Mariner hadn’t noticed. ‘What’s the urgency?’
‘Have you started processing Dee Henderson and Leo Hayden?’ asked Mariner
‘Yes, of course we have. I assumed you’d want to confirm everything as soon as possible. I haven’t got the report together yet, though. There’s a lot more to do.’
‘That doesn’t matter,’ said Mariner impatiently. ‘Have you removed the clothing?’
‘Yes. What is all this?’
‘Can you meet me there, at the mortuary? It’s urgent, I promise.’
‘It had bloody well better be,’ said Croghan.
Suzy had appeared, wearing one of Mariner’s sweatshirts that came down to her thighs. ‘What’s going on?’
His erection, that hadn’t altogether subsided, revived a little. God, he was going to regret this. ‘I’m sorry, really I am.’
‘Go,’ she said with a sigh. ‘But I’ll expect a good seeing-to when you get back.’
‘It’s a promise,’ he said, knowing that it was one he’d struggle to keep.
Mariner drove to the QE at breakneck speed through empty night streets, and arriving ahead of the pathologist, was then forced to stand around waiting for him under the covered drop-off ramp outside the mortuary entrance, listening to the steady patter of rain on the steel roof. He used the waiting time to contact Superintendent Sharp and Vicky Jesson, asking them to meet him at Granville Lane in an hour. He wasn’t going to win any popularity awards tonight, but that couldn’t be helped. Finally he saw Croghan’s Volvo estate approaching.
‘You need to calm down and stop obsessing,’ said Croghan. ‘All the hard work is done.’
‘That’s the problem,’ said Mariner. ‘I don’t think it is.’
The lights blinked dazzlingly on the steel and white surfaces as they went in, and Mariner followed Croghan past the observation room and on into the mortuary.
‘So what is it that’s so vitally important it couldn’t wait until the morning?’ Croghan asked.
‘It is morning,’ said Mariner, indicating the clock that said twenty past two. ‘Leo Hayden was wearing a watch,’ he went on. ‘You remember removing it?’
‘I didn’t do it personally but one of my assistants will have,’ said Croghan.
‘Do you remember which wrist it was on?’
Croghan didn’t, but turning on a computer he fetched up the file in which every detail was recorded, both photographically and in writing, while the body was being processed. ‘Hayden’s watch,’ he said, reading from the screen, ‘was on his left wrist.’ He clicked on a jpeg close-up of the timepiece. It was an old-fashioned one with a simple analogue face and a black leather strap.
‘Shit, shit, shit.’ Mariner pushed a hand through his hair in frustration.
‘What’s all this about?’ asked Croghan, studying Mariner’s face. ‘Fuck, you think we’ve got the wrong man, don’t you?’
‘Can you print that off for me?’ Mariner asked, waving at the photograph.
‘Of course.’ He did so, and Mariner was gone.
‘No problem,’ Croghan called after him.
When Tiffany re-emerged from the club she thought for one horrible moment that he’d gone without her, but then she saw him a little way off up the street. She trotted to catch up with him, the scraping of her heels echoing back at her.
‘All right?’ he said. ‘Did they mind you leaving without them?’
‘No, they’re fine.’ As she caught up with him, he took her good hand, lacing his fingers though hers, with a touch so soft and sensual it sent a shiver the length of her spine. The rain had stopped now, and it was good to be in the fresh air, but they seemed to walk for ever through the empty streets to get to his car. Tiffany almost had to run to keep up with his long strides and her shoes were starting to rub painfully, blistering her heels. Just when she thought she’d have to ask him to stop, so she could take them off, they got to where his car was parked. It wasn’t a big, expensive one, as Tiffany had expected, but was more like a workman’s van.
‘It’s not mine,’ he said. ‘I’ve borrowed it. But it has its advantages.’
Tiffany didn’t care. That beer had gone right to her head bringing all those shots along with it. What with that and the sudden burst of exercise, she felt woozy and light-headed, and would be grateful to sit down anywhere. She practically fell against the van and he moved in kissing her more fervently this time, his teeth biting down on her lip, and his pelvis grinding into hers. Tiffany had never seen a grown man’s cock; it was something else she was keen to add to her education tonight and now she could feel his, swollen and hard, digging into her belly. Her inhibitions dampened by the alcohol, she reached down to grab it, but he caught hold of her sore wrist, making her yelp.
‘Patience,’ he said.
Leading her round to the back of the van, he opened the doors and she saw the mattress inside. Drowsy and increasingly dizzy, Tiffany needed no encouragement to climb in. It was such a relief to lie down and kick off her shoes. He slid in alongside her closing the doors behind them, so that they lay on the mattress with the light from a street lamp streaming in through the windows. His hands were all over her then, yanking at her clothes, his breath coming in heavy bursts and a new determination on his face. In one abrupt movement he rolled her roughly on to her stomach, pushing her face into the cold mattress and wrenching her arms up behind her back. This wasn’t right. A bubble of panic rose in her chest and turning her head she tried to protest, but he slapped a hand over her mouth, and she found her lips were stuck fast. Snorting hard through her nose she began to feel faint. The front seams of her dress ripped with a crack, and cold air shrouded her body. She had to make him stop, but her head was so heavy that she couldn’t focus. Through blurred vision she saw him unfastening his trousers before everything swam and melted to black.
At Granville Lane, Mariner knew what he wanted but didn’t know exactly where to look, and spent a frantic few minutes searching through the box files of evidence being readied for the CPS. He found it at last and as he was loading it into a computer he heard the door bang behind him as both Sharp and Jesson arrived at the same time.
‘This had better bloody be important,’ said Jesson, testily. ‘You’ve just interrupted the best night’s sleep I’ve had in ages.’ Dropping into her office chair, she rolled it across the floor to where Mariner was.
‘Ditto that,’ said Sharp, coming to sit on the desk just behind them.
His eyes fixed on the computer monitor, Mariner pointed to the photograph on the desk beside him. ‘Take a look at that,’ he said.
‘It’s a watch,’ said Jesson, with exaggerated patience, as if she was talking to a child.
‘More specifically, it’s Leo Hayden’s watch,’ said Mariner. ‘The one that Stuart Croghan’s team removed from his wrist yesterday.’
‘And?’ said Sharp.
Mariner said nothing but continued to study the screen as the film footage of the hospital staff car park ran through fast-forward. They all watched as Hayden’s Audi A3 drew up to the barrier, the driver’s window slid down and an arm reached out to swipe the pass card. Mariner hit freeze. ‘Look at the watch,’ he said.
‘It’s not this one,’ said Jesson, looking again at the photograph.
‘And it’s on the wrong wrist,’ said Mariner. ‘Croghan took Leo Hayden’s watch off his left wrist. He’s just told me, from what’s recorded in the file. A man might own two watches, but he doesn’t wear them on different wrists and he doesn’t wear them at the same time.’
‘It could have been his attempt to throw us off the scent,’ offered Vicky, but her voice lacked conviction.
‘Then why wear a watch at all? Why not just take it off?’ said Mariner. ‘We assumed that it’s Leo Hayden driving that car, but I don’t think it is.’
‘But the neighbour saw him leaving the house half an hour before,’ Jesson reminded him.
‘Did she, though?’ said Mariner. ‘She said herself that she wasn’t sure if Hayden saw her. She made the same assumption we did: it’s Hayden’s car, therefore the man driving it must be Hayden. Why wouldn’t she? But the farmer who found the car had to get up close to see if there was anyone inside, and only then did he see Hayden in the driver’s seat. That’s because the windows are tinted.’
‘But Hayden was in the driver’s seat on Titterstone Clee,’ said Sharp, peering over Mariner’s shoulder at the frozen image. ‘So who is it driving there?’
‘It’s our washerwoman,’ said Mariner. ‘Croghan hasn’t started on the post-mortem for Hayden yet, but when he does, I think he’s going to find that Leo Hayden was already dead when he was placed in the driver’s seat of his car. I think Hayden, along with Henderson and Coral Norman, was collateral. They all got in the way.’
Jesson blew out her cheeks. ‘Bloody Nora, that’s a lot of collateral.’
‘But it explains why we’ve never received any clothing for Dee Henderson.’
‘Shit,’ said Sharp. ‘But what you’re really saying is that our man is still out there.’
‘That’s about it,’ said Mariner. ‘We need to get everybody back in and go over all the evidence again and pursue the outstanding leads. There’s something we’ve missed. And we need to do it straight away. He’ll think he’s got away with it, which will give him the confidence to do it again.’
TWENTY-SEVEN
June Davey was up early on Sunday morning and had assembled Tiffany’s presents and cards in a little pile in the living room, all ready for when she got up. June was really pleased with what she’d bought her and was certain Tiff would be chuffed to bits with the new phone. Ignoring the protests, June had made Josh, Tiffany’s older brother, get up early too so that they could wish Tiffany a happy birthday all together, as a family, like they always did, and now he was out walking the dog.
After the kids’ dad left it had become extra important to do as much as they could as a family and birthday celebrations were amongst the last rituals that remained. Now June sat at the kitchen table leafing through the album of Tiffany’s baby photos (another birthday tradition). Looking at the tiny, newborn Tiffany, she filled up, remembering what a happy day it had been. She’d been convinced at the time that a second child would help to cement a marriage that was coming under increasing strain. Even the labour with Tiffany had been an easy one. She’d popped out in less than two hours and started feeding straight away. June drained her tea cup. She was putting the kettle on for another when Josh got back.
‘Isn’t she up yet?’ he grumbled, leaning down to take off the dog’s lead. ‘I want to go round Lee’s.’
‘I’ll take her a drink,’ said June. ‘That might encourage her to come down. She was late in last night.’ So late that June hadn’t actually heard Tiffany come in, though she didn’t like to admit it to Josh. She felt guilty that perhaps for the first time ever, she had fallen asleep before both her babies were safely tucked up in bed. She made a mug of tea and climbed the stairs to Tiffany’s room. She knocked gently on the door. ‘Tiffany? Tiff? I’ve brought you up some tea. Happy birthday, sweetheart.’
June thought she heard the faintest murmured response, but when she opened the door, the first thing she saw was the empty bed. Then she realized that the room was exactly as it had been last night when Lex had called her up the stairs to come and appraise them, before they went out. The moment popped back into her head.
‘What do you think?’ Lex had asked, as Tiffany stood admiring herself in the mirror.
‘You look lovely,’ June had said, trying to ignore the expanses of flesh on display and the rather heavy make-up. She knew Tiff longed to have a boyfriend and the last thing she wanted to do was knock her daughter’s confidence. Now the room was empty except for all the detritus from their preparations.
June couldn’t make sense of it. She went through to where Josh was setting up a game on his Xbox. ‘She’s not there,’ said June. ‘Where can she be?’
Josh just shrugged. ‘I dunno. She must have stayed with Lex or Sophie.’
‘But it’s her birthday. Why hasn’t she let us know?’
June rang her daughter’s mobile, which went straight to voicemail. ‘She’s got her phone off,’ she said. ‘I don’t like this. Something might have happened to her.’
‘Like what?’ said Josh. He grinned. ‘Let’s face it, Mum. Who’d want our Tiffany?’
On Sunday morning Millie had to drive past Louise’s house on her way to the supermarket. It was her habit now to look in on the estate, past the main gates to Louise’s house. She expected to see the driveway empty, which it was, but parked across the bottom of it was a van. It reminded her about what Louise had said about being watched. Immediately she recognized the folly of that; if the van was up to no good, it would hardly be so blatantly parked in front of the house. It was the type of van a tradesman would use. Perhaps Greg had decided to surprise Louise with that new kitchen counter after all. Lucky Louise. The car behind Millie’s beeped its horn and she moved off, pondering the significance of what she’d seen.
Over the weekend almost everyone involved in the washerwoman case had willingly come back in and, once they’d expressed their initial disappointment and disbelief, they were knuckling down to what had to be done. As soon as he thought it a reasonable time, Mariner checked with Suzy that all was OK then phoned Mercy and explained that he’d been called back into work. ‘My er … friend is with Jamie at the moment, but I don’t know how long she can stay before she needs to go back to Cambridge.’
‘That’s fine,’ said Mercy, as he’d known she would. ‘I can go and take care of him.’
‘I’ll be taking Jamie to Manor Park tomorrow,’ Mariner said, in case she’d forgotten. ‘I’ll try and get back for dinner this evening. Maybe you’d like to stay and eat with us?’
‘I’d like that, Tom.’
Now Mariner was back in his office reviewing his notes from the interview with Paddy Henderson. He heard a throat being cleared and looked up to see today’s desk sergeant standing in the doorway. ‘Sorry to bother you,’ he said. ‘We’ve got a woman downstairs who’s worried about her daughter. She didn’t come home last night.’
‘How old is she?’ asked Mariner, a chill developing in his belly.
‘Today’s her twenty-second birthday. According to the mother she’s got dark, curly hair.’
‘Shit.’
June Davey was an attractive woman: petite, with dark hair cut in a glossy bob. She’d brought along a surly-looking young man in low-slung jeans and Converse trainers, who was apparently Tiffany’s older brother. Mariner led the questioning and quickly established the circumstances of Tiffany’s disappearance. ‘And you’ve tried her phone?’ he asked.
‘It goes straight to voicemail. She only ever turns off her phone when she’s at work.’
‘Has Tiffany had to go to hospital at all recently?’ Mariner asked.
June Davey looked impressed with his insight. ‘Yes, a couple of weeks ago she slipped on some wet leaves and sprained her wrist quite badly. She should have been wearing a splint, but I see she left it at home last night.’
‘Did you go to A&E with her?’ Mariner asked.
‘I met her up there,’ said Mrs Davey. ‘I got this call from her work to tell me where she was, so I got the bus to the hospital. We had to wait ages.’
‘Who did Tiffany talk to?’ Mariner asked. ‘This is important.’
June Davey seemed puzzled. ‘Only the nurse when we first got there,’ she said, ‘and the doctor who looked at her wrist.’
‘Did she go to the atrium, the cafeteria area?’
‘I don’t think … Oh, yes, she went to get a bottle of water. It was so warm in there.’
‘And the last people to see Tiffany last night would have been her friends, Alexandra and Sophie?’ Mariner checked.
‘Yes, that’s right.’
‘OK,’ said Mariner. ‘If you can give us their details, we’ll go and have a chat with them.’
Mariner and Jesson went to Lex’s house to meet the two girls. Sophie was already there, sitting quietly on the sofa, fiddling with the zip on her hoodie. Although it was the middle of the day, Lex’s mum had to get her out of bed. She was sleepy and hung-over but both girls seemed equally mystified that their friend hadn’t arrived home in time for her birthday. ‘She really looks forward to it,’ said Lex. ‘She’s been banging on about it for days.’
‘What exactly happened last night?’ Jesson asked them.
‘We had a few drinks in the Aussie bar, then we went to RedZone,’ Lex said. ‘We met these lads. They were a laugh. We were having a good time.’
For the first time Sophie spoke up. ‘We were having a good time,’ she corrected her friend. ‘I’m not sure if Tiffany was.’
‘Yeah, well. There were two lads,’ she admitted. ‘And they hit it off with us two.’
‘So Tiffany was left out,’ Jesson observed.
