THE GUILTY ONES a gripping crime thriller filled with stunning twists Read online

  Marie had been wondering the same thing. ‘The only thing we can think of is that it was part of the killer’s mind-control scheme, something else he threw in to screw their heads up even more.’

  ‘As in, “You must go London and do exactly what I tell you, only then will I spare your children?”’

  ‘Something like that. I’m guessing we’ll only discover the real reason when we have the bastard sitting in an interview room.’

  ‘If he decides to tell you.’

  ‘He’d bloody well better,’ growled Marie. She opened her mouth to continue but a voice behind her called out, ‘Marie! The boss wants you right now!’

  Robbie met her at the door. ‘His nephews’ nanny called him in a right panic. She reckons the killer was at the school gates at going home time.’

  Marie strode after him down the corridor. ‘How would she know it was the killer?’

  ‘He didn’t say anything else. He wants you to go to the school with him.’

  ‘Of course I will. Oh hell, this is all he needs — another threat to his family.’ She wondered to herself how Ruth Crooke would see this latest development.

  She caught up with Jackman at the door. ‘Want me to drive, sir?’

  He handed her the keys. ‘Please, Marie. I want to ring Ella back, make sure nothing else has happened. And put your foot down, huh?’

  They reached the school in record time. Jackman was out of the car and running before Marie had put on the handbrake. She parked up and hurried in behind him.

  Ella was waiting in the head’s office, along with Ryan, Miles, and two plainclothes officers.

  Jackman asked whether there was CCTV.

  One of the officers, a PC named Chris Bourne, said he’d already requested the footage. ‘They’ve just installed cameras to check on illegal parking. They are trying to get the parents to park further away from the gates.’

  Jackman turned to Ella. ‘Maybe they’ve captured something then — if, as you say, he was right there at the gates.’

  ‘He was, Jackman.’ Ella looked more angry than shaken. ‘With all the parents. Then he ran down the avenue. He must have been caught on camera!’

  ‘I need you to look at the footage, Ella.’ He glanced over to where the boys were sitting quietly, looking at some books. He lowered his voice. ‘Miles mustn’t see it. Marie? Would you stay here with Chris and Don and watch the children?’

  Marie nodded, and he and Ella left the room.

  Marie introduced herself to the brothers.

  ‘Oh, you’re the sarge!’ Ryan looked at her with interest. ‘My uncle has told us about you.’

  Marie wondered what was going to come next. ‘Nice things, I hope.’

  ‘Well,’ Miles looked at her critically, ‘We’re not sure if he’s telling porkies.’

  ‘Try me, and I’ll tell you.’

  ‘He says you ride a huge motorcycle.’

  ‘True. Next question?’

  ‘How huge?’

  ‘Pretty big. You should get him to bring you to the police station one day and you can see for yourself. You can sit on it if you want.’

  Miles’s face clouded over. ‘Mummy says they’re dangerous.’

  Oh dear. ‘Mummy was right, they can be. But not if you ride them carefully and know what you’re doing. I would never let any harm come to you. My bike’s name is Harvey.’

  ‘That’s a silly name for a motorbike.’ Ryan sounded rather superior.

  ‘It’s named after someone I know, and it reminds me of him.’ She refrained from telling them exactly why — that Harvey Cash’s thunderous farts had reminded her of someone kick-starting an old 650cc Triton.

  ‘Uncle also said you were on Amazon, but we looked and looked and we couldn’t find you.’

  Marie could cheerfully have throttled Jackman. How would she explain that one? Luckily she was saved by a broadly grinning Chris Bourne. ‘No, kids, you got it wrong! Your uncle said the sarge was an Amazon. They were warrior princesses in Greek mythology, tall and strong and fearless. Your uncle reckons that when Marie rides her bike, she’s like an Amazon warrior queen.’

  Marie glowered at him. ‘What rubbish! Shut up, Chris!’

  But Miles was clearly impressed. ‘Wow!’

  Ryan just nodded sagely, evidently well versed in the myths and legends of ancient Greece.

  Chris, who had three children of his own, steered the conversation to superheroes. Marie breathed a sigh of relief.

  Soon, a stony-faced Jackman appeared in the doorway and beckoned to her. Outside, he whispered, ‘Ella has pointed him out. He’s there alright, and he obviously didn’t give a toss about the cameras.’

  ‘Any full-face shots?’

  ‘No. He knew exactly where they were, and kept his face turned away. All we can do is get the pictures enhanced and try to pick out anything that could identify him.’

  ‘IT will be able to estimate his age, won’t they? From the way he moves, and his general physique?’

  ‘It won’t be very accurate, but yes, and it will all help to build up a picture. Shame there are no more cameras in the area. He’ll have had a car somewhere nearby.’

  ‘Are you okay?’ she asked quietly.

  Jackman sighed. ‘Yes. I daren’t read too much into this, although it’s hard not to. It could have been anyone, not necessarily Miles’s Bad Man. Ella is as uptight as hell with worry about the boys. She could have blown it out of proportion. She’s a good-looking woman, maybe what she saw was a guy who was interested in her.’

  Marie doubted that. Ella was sensible, and she certainly wouldn’t have imagined or misconstrued that pointed gesture.

  ‘I know what you are thinking, Marie, but right now I have to have hard evidence before I go into panic mode.’ Jackman took her arm and pulled her a little closer. ‘I’m considering ditching the home protection and getting them into a safe house. What do you think? Am I over-reacting?’

  She shook her head. ‘No way. I’d do it immediately. Even if it’s just until we get a better handle on this.’

  ‘Then I’ll notify the superintendent.’ He pulled out his phone, which showed an incoming call. ‘Mum? Is everything alright?’

  Marie saw Jackman’s face darken. ‘Look, don’t worry,’ he said. ‘I have something to sort out here, and then I’ll be straight over.’

  He hung up and stared at Marie. ‘Something odd happened at Mother’s stable. Some man came and asked her to stable his horse. He claims to be an old friend, but I’ve never heard of an Edward Craven.’

  Marie felt a chill of apprehension. ‘I’ll go with you to your mother’s. Is she worried about this man?’

  ‘No, not at all. She just wanted to know if I’d vouch for him before she accepted his horse for livery.’

  She frowned. ‘Could be a bona fide misunderstanding, I suppose, but we should check it out.’

  ‘I must tell Ella what we’re doing,’ said Jackman. ‘She’ll need to collect stuff for the boys — clothes, games, toiletries. I’ll get Chris and Don to escort her home, then a protection officer will take it from there.’

  They heard Ella’s voice behind them. ‘Do I get a say in this?’

  ‘It’s only for your safety — all of you,’ Jackman said softly. ‘And it won’t be for long.’

  ‘You don’t know that, Jackman. Actually, I think I’d rather stay at Rainham Lodge, as long as we have those police officers with us.’ She looked at Jackman. ‘It will be almost impossible to keep two recently bereaved youngsters occupied and happy in a safe house. Don’t you think they’re confused enough? What would that do to them? They need stability. They certainly don’t need to be bundled off to some hotel room for an indefinite period of time.’

  Marie nodded slowly. ‘She has a point, doesn’t she? I don’t think I’d looked further than the safety issue.’

  Jackman held up his hands. ‘Alright. But do not go charging round town on your own. Understood?’

  ‘Promise. Once was enough, thanks.�
�� Ella gave them a rueful smile. ‘I’ll leave the detective stuff to you from now on.’

  Marie grinned at her. ‘Too right! But at least you got us a description of him.’

  Ella grimaced. ‘Fat lot of good it was too. Thick dark wavy hair, tall, dark clothing, and a neat line in scary gestures.’

  ‘It could be worse,’ said Marie. ‘At least we can rule out short fat blond men and chubby redheads.’ She looked at Jackman but he seemed to be miles away. ‘Jackman? We should get over to your mother’s stables.’

  ‘Sorry? Oh, yes. Ella? Are you absolutely certain about this?’

  Her look said it all.

  ‘Then let’s fetch the boys, put Chris and Don in the picture, and get you out of here.’

  * * *

  Harriet rolled up a lunge rein and put it in a drawer in the tack room. ‘He seemed, well, so plausible. Then after I’d spoken to you, I thought the way he dashed off for an appointment before he gave me all his details was a bit suspicious.’ She looked at Jackman, her face etched with concern. ‘Do you think he’s the man who hurt Sarah?’

  He’d already rung the number the man had given her. It was unobtainable, but he didn’t tell his mother that. ‘Mum, this could be nothing, and we have no idea who he is. Tell me again what he looked like.’

  Harriet busied herself hanging up bridles and straightening out reins, as if keeping her hands occupied would make her think more clearly.

  ‘He was very well dressed — smart, in that county manner. Moleskin trousers in a stone colour, a navy-and-cream check shirt, and a well-worn Barbour. He had thick wavy dark brown hair and dark eyes. He looked like a rider and he seemed to know his horses. That was why I thought no more about him.’ She looked apologetically from Jackman to Marie, ‘I’m so sorry. Knowing what is going on at the moment I should have been on my guard, shouldn’t I?’

  Jackman hugged his mother. ‘Oh, Mum! You weren’t to know. Maybe he is kosher and I’ve just forgotten him. I meet a hell of a lot of people at functions.’ He didn’t really believe his own words, and suspected that the horse knowledge came from the University of Google, but his mother was looking uncharacteristically unsure of herself and until he had proof, he needed to reassure her.

  She finally extricated herself from his bear hug and said, ‘What on earth should I say if he does phone back?’

  ‘Nothing, because if the phone rings at seven, I’ll answer it. That should tell us all we want to know, shouldn’t it?’ He looked at his watch. ‘Not long to wait now.’

  To pass the time, Harriet walked Marie around the stables and introduced her to some of her favourite horses.

  ‘Oh, I love this little guy!’ Marie exclaimed, stroking the muzzle of a little grey pony.

  Harriet beamed. ‘That’s Sherbet. I rescued him and I’m getting him back to full health as a present for Ryan and Miles.’

  ‘He’s gorgeous! The boys will be over the moon.’ Marie sighed. ‘I’ve never ridden a horse, only motorcycles.’

  ‘Come down on your next day off, and I’ll show you what you’re missing,’ Harriet offered. ‘She’d love it, wouldn’t she, Rowan?’

  ‘Do you know, I’m going to take you up on that! I’d love to.’ Marie grinned at him. ‘Think I’ll make a horsewoman?’

  Jackman smiled. ‘If you ride a horse like you ride that bike, I’d say it’s a given.’

  ‘Excellent, that’s a date.’ Harriet looked more like her old self. ‘Rowan’s right, I have a feeling you’ll be a natural. You clearly have a fondness for them, and Sherbet loves you!’

  Jackman watched Marie tickle the pony’s ears and checked his watch again.

  ‘Nearly time?’ Marie asked.

  ‘If he phones.’

  At seven o’clock precisely, the phone rang.

  ‘Jackman. Who is this, please?’

  For a moment there was silence.

  ‘Ah, an astute woman, your mother. But I’m pleased you answered.’

  Jackman let him speak.

  ‘You know who I am, Detective Inspector. Or should I say, you know who I was. The thing is, who am I now?’ He gave a sharp laugh.

  ‘Alistair Ashcroft?’

  ‘If you say so, but I rather think he doesn’t exist anymore, Rowan.’

  ‘No one calls me that!’ snapped Jackman, unable to stop himself.

  ‘Except your mother — oh, and your boss.’

  Jackman held his tongue. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Marie talking urgently to someone on her own phone, and knew she was trying get a trace on the man’s number.

  ‘I’m a very patient man, Jackman. With patience, there is nothing you can’t find out.’

  What did he mean? ‘What do you want from me? Haven’t you done enough already?’

  ‘But, Detective, I want nothing from you, other than your attention.’

  ‘Well, you’ve got that. What now?’

  ‘Don’t patronise me!’

  It seemed to Jackman that all his training, all the years spent studying the psychology of the criminal mind, had been useless. He had absolutely no idea how to handle this man.

  ‘I’m sorry.’ He tried to sound sincere, and to keep the man on the phone for as long as possible. ‘But you must understand. I know what you’ve done, and I’m scared for the people closest to me. I have to know what you want.’

  ‘You’re right to be scared. Just consider this. “Until justice rolls down like waters, and righteousness like a mighty stream.” I’ll be in touch, Jackman. Goodbye.’

  Jackman closed his eyes. He knew those words. Taken from The Book of Amos, Martin Luther King Jr used them in his “I Have a Dream” speech. Alistair Ashcroft was telling him that he hadn’t yet finished his quest for vengeance. There would be more deaths.

  Marie was staring at him, shaking her head. ‘They tracked it, and it’s a local call, but an unregistered SIM card.’

  What else did he expect? At least he knew now who they were looking for, even if — in his words — he no longer existed.

  Jackman had lost his fear.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Jackman had never been much interested in his father’s frenetic business ventures. He left all that to his brother James. Now Jackman wondered if he should have looked closer. His father had taken charge.

  Thirty minutes after hearing that his wife had been eye to eye with a killer, a van containing four security guards arrived at Lawrence Jackman’s home. When Jackman asked his father what was going on, he merely said, ‘Trust me, Rowan. I know what I’m doing.’ Then he gripped Jackman’s shoulder in a most uncharacteristic gesture. ‘I may not have said so, son, but I know you are a damned good police officer. Go and do what you are best at, my boy. We are safe here. I suggest you consider bringing James, Ella and the boys here too.’

  Speechless, Jackman nodded. From what he had seen of those granite-faced guards, it was a viable option. Tomorrow he would put it to Ella and James and see what they thought.

  * * *

  At around eight o’clock in the evening, Jackman and Marie were on their way back to the station when Jackman’s mobile made them both jump.

  ‘Jackman.’

  ‘Orla Cracken here, Inspector.’

  Jackman almost asked, “Who?” Orac never used that name. Orac never phoned him. She always used Marie as a go-between.

  ‘I’m sorry, but I really need you to come to the lab immediately,’ Orac said.

  He had never heard her sound so serious. ‘Marie and I are on our way. Can I ask what it’s about?’

  ‘I’d prefer to explain when you get here, if that’s alright.’

  ‘We’ll be with you in ten.’ He ended the call and turned to Marie. ‘Orac.’

  ‘I asked her to trace the little brother.’

  Marie accelerated, and they arrived at Orac’s lab in precisely ten minutes.

  Orac was alone, and Jackman felt a little of his old discomfort return. But this was urgent, so he pushed it aside.

 
Orac asked them to take a seat. ‘Two things. First, a little earlier, I had to sort out a problem with Laura Archer’s laptop. When she collected it, she left this for you.’ She handed him an envelope. ‘She was going on to another appointment, and when I told her I was going to ask you to call here tonight, she asked me to pass it on. She said to say it was a simplified outline of her thoughts about a man who has that level of control over others.’

  ‘Thank you. I appreciate it.’ Jackman took the envelope from her. ‘And the second thing?’

  Orac turned those metallic eyes on him. ‘Now we move to hard facts, which is probably more to your liking right now. The Ashcroft family, God help them. With his high-profile business, Charles, the father, was easy to trace.’ She handed Jackman several printouts from old newspaper articles and interviews on Ashcroft’s self-made building empire. ‘He had dragged himself up from the gutter, and was keen to tell anyone and everyone about his abusive background and how he rose above it. He admits openly that his father was a violent man and domestic violence was a regular occurrence in their home.’ Orac picked up another file. ‘Working on the assumption that Charles had possibly inherited some of his father’s traits, I searched old police files for the Nettleby area, covering the years after he married his wife, Louisa. And I found these.’ She passed him the reports. ‘Police were called on several occasions by neighbours to disturbances at Ash Grange. The police knew exactly what was happening, but as no allegations were made by the wife, no action was taken.’

  ‘So, he was an abusive bully,’ Jackman said.

  ‘As his old neighbour told us,’ added Marie. ‘And I should think a very nasty one, considering the wife finally ran away and left the children. That takes some doing, leaving your kids.’

  ‘Now,’ Orac continued, ‘you know what finally happened to poor Lyndsay, and you also know that her brother Alistair dropped off the radar at the same time. What you didn’t know, is that there were three Ashcroft children, not two.’

  Jackman and Marie exchanged glances, then Jackman said, ‘Three kids?’

  ‘Yes, a boy, one year younger than Alistair. But then nothing, no medical records for the child and no primary school registration. I assumed he must have died, but I didn’t find a death certificate. The other two children were correctly registered with doctors and schools, so why not the third? I was beginning to think that unless he was given away, or stolen by the fairies, I was stumped.’ She flashed them her strange smile. ‘But not for long. His name suddenly resurfaced into the system at exactly the same time as Alistair’s disappeared.’