Death and Deception (31 page)

‘So, what did Jamie want?’

Her top lip curled. ‘Money. He wanted my money. He saw it on the bed on Sunday. I think he would have killed me to get it, if Dad hadn’t walked in.’ Jenna looked at the social worker. ‘I was so scared. If he could kill Carly, he could kill me too.’

‘Are you telling us everything, Jenna? It’s really important that you do, otherwise, it’s just your word against Jamie’s.’

The girl nodded and dropped her head, and Dan watched the tears dripping off her nose onto the table-top.

Dan had pretty much believed Jamie May earlier in the day. It had fit his own understanding of the story so well, had fit into the pattern he had made. But now he saw holes in the boy’s story, and feared that Jenna may well be telling the truth, and he could see that he had fallen into a basic, trainee’s trap. He hadn’t followed the evidence. He hadn’t questioned Jamie closely enough. The stupid solicitor had got him on edge with all the objections to keeping him in custody. No, he amended, he couldn’t blame her, it was his own fault. He’d rushed it, wanting confirmation of what he already thought, and that’s when he’d made mistakes. Sally had tried to warn him, she knew something was wrong, but he’d ridden straight over her.

He’d also let the boy go home without putting up a decent fight against the scary Vanessa Redmond, because he had so desperately wanted to get to Abrams’ house and be involved in the action. The place where he thought it was all happening, when in reality it was all happening right under his nose. And all he’d gained from rushing to Abrams’ house, was an injured Sergeant, bruising to his feet and a destroyed car. He bit the tide of self-criticism off before it became a torrent, and brought the interview to a close.

‘Jenna, thank you for telling us what happened.’ He caught the girl’s desperate gaze and tried a smile. ‘You’ve done the right thing. Jamie would have let you take the blame, so don’t feel bad. We’ll protect you, and get you home as soon as we can.’

He glanced at the social worker over the girl’s head.

‘Why don’t you take Jenna with you now, Kate? She looks like she needs some sleep.

‘I’ll see you in the morning, Jenna. Your dad will be here, too.’ He touched her arm, not a gesture that came naturally to him, and helped her up from her chair. The poor kid looked wrecked.

‘Don’t worry. If you have told us the truth, you have nothing to worry about at all. Do you understand?’

Jenna didn’t seem to register what he said. She’d gone past the stage of being able to respond. She noticed that Dan had no shoes on and stared at his feet as Kate Spicer and the solicitor walked her out into the corridor. Dan shuffled them back under his chair. They were still throbbing. He let his head drop into his hands and blew out a long breath.

‘Are you alright, Sir?’ Dan had forgotten Lizzie was still there. He shook his head.

‘No, Lizzie, I’m not alright. I’m a total fucking pillock, that’s what I am.’ He almost smiled to see the shock on her face. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll be fine. I think I’ve finally got it. See Ms Spicer and Jenna out of the building, will you? And then go home. I need you here in the morning.’

Dan made his painful way up the stairs to Oliver’s office. It was close to midnight but he knew she’d still be there, writing up the shooting and arrests at Abrams’ house. He was just about to add another little twist to the tale of his incompetence that wouldn’t cheer her up at all.

The main corridor was dark, lit only by the red emergency lighting. There were sounds of a vacuum cleaner from one of the offices and he could hear the cleaners singing and chatting as they dusted the conference suite. Light spilled from Oliver’s room. The door was half open. Dan knocked and went in. Oliver was leaning back in her chair with her legs crossed at the ankle resting on top of the desk. She was on the phone. She waved as Dan entered and pointed to the corner of the room, where the blessed Stella had left two sandwiches in plastic containers and a thermos of coffee. He realised he hadn’t eaten for hours. Funny, how cheese and chutney on brown could make a totally crap day more bearable. He chomped on the sandwich and swigged it down with strong coffee, feeling the light-headedness recede a little.

Oliver finished her call.

‘Dan, you’ve done a fantastic job.’ She smiled one of her rare smiles. ‘We’ve got the Latvians, broken up a porn ring and you’re now going to tell me that Jenna Braithwaite has confessed to her sister’s murder.’

The last bit of sandwich stuck in Dan’s throat and he had to take a slurp of coffee to get it down before he could speak. He felt the heat of blood rushing into his face. A dead giveaway, as usual.

‘The thing is, Ma’am, I have spoken to Jenna, and I now don’t think she did it. She says it was Jamie, and that he threatened to kill her too if she told anyone what had happened. Having spent time with Jenna , I believe her. I don’t believe she can lie as convincingly as he did. Sergeant Ellis was right. I reckon he could lie for Britain, little shit. He fooled me with all his bluster, and it was a good story. Just not the right one.’

He risked a glance at Oliver, who sat staring at him open-mouthed. ‘It makes more sense, Ma’am. She’s such a skinny little thing, I can’t see her having the strength to hold her bigger sister down long enough to kill her. It points back to our original hypothesis, that the motive was jealousy.’
He put both hands palm down onto the desk top. ‘I should have thought it through before acting, Ma’am. It’s obvious now.’

Oliver sat very still while she thought this revelation through.

‘Tell me Jamie is still in custody.’

Dan took a deep breath. Here it comes. ‘No, Ma’am, I agreed to let him go home for the night with his mother.’

She gave him a look of such incredulity he almost winced.

‘I’m so sorry. I wanted to get out to the Abrams’ place and I wasn’t thinking straight. I couldn’t think what to charge him with under the pressure of the moment. It was a bad judgement call.’

‘You can say that again, Tonto.’ She thought for a moment longer. He could see her working out, yet again, how to rescue his cock-up. ‘Well, as the boy probably thinks he’s in the clear, we just have to hope he’s at home in bed. Give me the phone number.’

He shuffled through his notebook and read it out. They in silence as Oliver pressed the speakerphone button.

‘Hello?’

‘Mrs May? DCS Oliver here. Sorry to disturb you so late but I just need to check that Jamie is safely tucked up in bed. Would you be an angel and just pop in to see for me?’

‘Why can’t you leave us alone? He hasn’t done anything, has he?’ Sandra replied, but they could hear her walking the phone upstairs and opening a door.

‘Jamie? Jamie, love?’ There were grunts, and the sound of Sandra walking the phone back downstairs. ‘He’s fast asleep, alright?’

‘Thanks so much, Mrs May. See you in the morning.’ She put the phone down and mimed wiping her brow. ‘Phew! I’ll get the first day shift to pick him up at six and have him ready for us when we get in. What about Jenna?’

‘She’s gone to Willow House for the night. I haven’t told her dad that she didn’t do it, yet. He was almost catatonic when he left and I…’ He faltered, ‘I don’t want to tell him anything else in case it changes again, poor bastard.’ He could feel exhaustion pricking at his eyes. ‘Ma’am, I’m so sorry. I messed up, again. I should have taken more notice of what Jamie May was doing. Why he was so keen to get to Westlake’s place, why he hurt Claire Quick.’

‘And?’

‘I think he told Westlake that he had killed Carly to hurt the guy. He taunted him just for revenge. But when he heard Westlake talking to Claire Quick, he panicked and assumed he would tell her his story. Thing is, I doubt Westlake would have told anybody, because he was by then implicated in under-age sex.’

He thought for a bit longer, sorting the facts, linking the gut feelings. Oliver poured herself a coffee and stood by the window, staring out into the darkness.

‘Or,’ he struggled to order his thoughts, ‘maybe he told Westlake that Jenna had done it? Setting up his cover story. And that was why Westlake escaped from hospital and went round to the Braithwaite’s earlier today. He wanted to hurt Jenna.’ He paused and looked up at his boss. ‘It makes sense, doesn’t it?’

‘And it was Jenna who arranged for Jed Abrams to move the body?’

‘Yes. Well, she set it up. Jamie arranged it. Abrams has a van. No wonder he was so scared when we started nosing round. He needed to do something so that Jenna was available for the filming tonight. He was just protecting his investment. Oh, and Jenna said Jamie was at her house because he wanted the money she made from the films. She was scared half to death that he was going to kill her too.’ Dan paused, checking his phone for texts. ‘Sam located Abrams’ van, by the way, it’s in the multi-storey under the cinema. Reckon it will give us the evidence we’re looking for.’

‘Right.’ Her face cleared as she turned to face him. ‘So stop moping. We’re almost there. We’ve just got to arrest Jamie May and get him into custody in the morning. We’ve got everybody else where we want them, long as you’re sure about Jenna.’ She gave him a half smile. ‘You have been a bloody idiot at times but things aren’t always neat and tidy, Dan, however much I’d like them to be. We deal with real people in all their muck and filth and weirdness, but if we get the right murderer, or robber or rapist, then we’re earning our keep. So cheer up, you’ve done a great job, and sod off home.’

Dan pushed himself out of the chair and hobbled to the door.

Oliver watched him trying to walk with no shoes on.

‘Actually,’ she said, ‘I’ll give you a lift home, if you like. I hear you trashed your car?’

Date: Thursday 27
^th
April
Time: 06:15
Jamie May’s home

A flock of squabbling sparrows outside the bedroom window had woken Sandra May at 5.30 a.m. She lay on her side with the pillow clamped over her head, contemplating cutting the tree down, and trying not to listen to the row. She then tried not to listen to the squeal of brakes, the running up the path and the banging on her front door. Nobody needed to tell Sandra who was banging. They were shouting it at her through her letterbox.

There was no sound from Jamie’s room as she tottered past and made for the stairs. He must have been exhausted last night.

The officer at the door did not smile. Sandra couldn’t understand what he wanted.

‘I’m going to bring Jamie into the station myself, later,’ she protested. ‘It’s not even six thirty yet. You’ll wake the neighbours.’

‘There’s been a change of plan, love. I’ll just go and get Jamie out of bed. Why don’t you get some clothes on and you can come with us?’

‘What d’you mean, a change of plan?’ She clutched the stair post for support. ‘What’s happened?’

The officer pushed past her up the stairs.

‘New evidence, Mrs May. We need to ask young Jamie a few more questions.’ He opened the only closed door on the landing and shook the lump on the bed. The lump of rolled up clothes, which were definitely not Jamie, fell apart under his hand.

Sandra May stood in the doorway. She could not work out what was happening. ‘Where is he?’ she cried, looking wildly about her as if her son was playing some sort of practical joke. ‘Jamie?’

The ringing was a distant thrum that settled into the same beat as the banging in his head. His body felt like a struck bell, reverberating with pain. Dan reached across the bed for the phone and answered,

‘Mmmm?’ He knew words were probably in there somewhere, if he could just have another couple of days to find them in the mush that had once been his brain.

As he listened to the duty sergeant speak, Dan sat up and swung his legs off the bed. He ended the call with a request for someone to pick him up. Looking at the livid bruises and swelling round his feet and ankles, he reckoned driving was out of the question for a while. Which was good, as he hadn’t got anything to drive.
      

The news that Jamie May had run away did not come as a surprise. He’d known he’d made a mistake in letting the boy go as soon as he’d agreed to it, but he’d pushed the intuition away, and he’d had the same sinking feeling in the gut when he’d had to tell Oliver what he’d done the night before. They had all under-estimated the guile of Jamie May. Sixteen years old, clever enough to pull the wool over all their eyes, and amoral enough to allow a child to take the blame for his own crime. He guessed he might have to resign if they didn’t find the boy soon.

‘Great career, so far, Daniel. Great, but short,’ he muttered as he limped towards the bathroom.

A shave, a shower, two paracetamol followed by two ibuprofen, a mug of coffee and four slices of toast later, he was ready to be picked up. Whether or not he was ready to face the day was a different matter. He’d not been able to get his shoes back onto his swollen feet, and one of them was ripped anyway, so he was in an open-necked shirt, jeans and trainers. Felt liberating, like ‘dress-down Friday’ must feel for normal people. The buzzer rang.

Sally waited for him at the foot of the stairs. Dan examined her as he descended, clutching the rail. She looked alright if you ignored the bandage round her head. And if her sides were feeling like his, after rolling out of a moving car, then she was covering it well. You never saw this on the telly, he thought. Of course, they were real men, just bounced back, never felt pain, never got bruised... He greeted Sally with a wry smile.

‘How you doing?’

‘You know, Boss,’ she said squinting up at him, ‘when you made me liaison for the Braithwaites at the start of this op, I was so miffed. I wanted to be part of the main action. Now, chatting to people on a sofa is becoming a very attractive option…’ She grinned. ‘No, I’ll be fine. After all, we’ve caught them, haven’t we?’ Her smile slipped when she saw Dan’s face fall.

She sat with him in the back of the area car so he could explain the changed situation to her on the brief journey to the station. She nodded and listened and looked relieved. He was grateful that she didn’t say ‘I told you so.’