THE GUILTY ONES a gripping crime thriller filled with stunning twists Page 3

  It didn’t take long to clear the table and stack the dishwasher, then after tidying up the dining room and checking that the boys were finally asleep, he and his mum went into the kitchen. They both looked and felt exhausted after such a traumatic evening trying to understand the inexplicable.

  Harriet Jackman poured each of them some more red wine and shook her head. ‘This is a living nightmare.’

  His mother looked like she’d aged ten years overnight. She was a strong, resilient woman, but this was enough to knock anyone sideways. ‘I think James is worrying me even more than the boys.’

  His mother nodded. ‘And I always thought you were the sensitive one.’ She reached across the table and touched his hand. ‘Actually, I still believe that’s true. James is completely out of his depth. He has no idea how to deal with what’s happened to him.’

  ‘Deep emotional issues were never his strong point. Bit like Dad. Although I have to admit he’s doing his best for James; he even hugged him while you were up with the boys.’ Jackman held his mother’s hand for a moment. ‘Even so, I get the feeling that the basic, common-sense decisions regarding this family are going to have to be handled by us, don’t you?’

  His mother released her hand and picked up her glass. ‘Oh yes. But it’s always been that way, hasn’t it? Where feelings are concerned, your father is about as much use as a lead parachute!’ She snorted. ‘Give him a balance sheet, or ask him to predict the stock market, and he’s your man, but as for domestic problems, well . . .’ She shook her head.

  ‘So, short term? How do we tackle this?’

  ‘I’ve made a list of people to contact — about Sarah’s death, I mean, but then there are the children to think about. I’ll ring their school tomorrow and explain what’s happened. I think it’s important not to disrupt their normal schedules too much.’

  Jackman nodded. ‘I agree. They need normality, or as much as we can emulate, and the school teachers will know the best way to handle this.’ He took a gulp of wine. ‘But we have to keep them on an even keel at home as well. We need James on side for that, and I’m not sure it’s going to happen.’

  His mother leaned forward. ‘Rowan? I’ve been thinking. Last week I met Ella Jarvis in the supermarket car park. She told me she’s given up her job.’

  Jackman nodded. ‘I heard about that. It was very sad.’

  Ella had been Ryan and Miles’s nanny when they were small. After she left the family, she’d trained as a scene-of-crime officer. A few months ago she had been called out to a tragic case of child abuse, and it had proved too much for her. That same day she handed in her notice.

  ‘She was very close to Sarah. They kept in touch regularly, I know. The boys adored her.’

  Jackman saw at once where this was going. ‘Do you think she would help?’

  ‘Can you think of anyone better? That would give them back just a tiny bit of their old life. What do you think?’

  He smiled. ‘Mum, you’re a genius.’ He glanced at his watch. Nine o’clock. ‘Do you have her number?’

  ‘It’s probably still in my address book.’ She pushed back her chair, went into the sitting room and a minute later called back, ‘Got it!’

  After the initial shock of hearing about Sarah’s death, Ella Jarvis wasted no time on considering Harriet’s request. She simply said, ‘Yes, of course I’ll help. I have no ties here at present, and frankly I’d have been hurt if you’d asked anyone else. I’ll come to you tomorrow morning and we’ll decide exactly what you want me to do.’

  Harriet replaced the receiver and let out a long sigh of relief. ‘She’ll do it.’

  Jackman smiled. ‘Stage one, complete. And it might help Ella too. I heard on the grapevine that she’s been at rock bottom. She was a damned good crime scene officer, and I know Rory misses her. She was a particularly good photographer and he valued the work she did on difficult cases.’ Jackman also considered that it would be good to have Ella on hand because, as his mother had said, she knew Sarah very well. Maybe she could shed some light on his sister-in-law’s tragic death.

  ‘You look pensive, son.’

  ‘Mum? Did Sarah seem okay to you over the last few weeks? Was she,’ he shrugged, ‘herself?’

  His mother made a huffing noise. ‘Now you come to mention it, I’m not sure that she was.’ She rubbed her hands together. ‘She brought the boys over for a riding lesson a week or so ago, and I thought she looked anxious. She denied it when I asked, but she looked drawn and preoccupied.’ She stared at him. ‘It was bad enough to worry me, but she said that she just felt a bit under the weather, that was all.’

  ‘People don’t just end their lives without a very good reason, Mum, and being a bit under the weather certainly doesn’t qualify. I haven’t seen a single thing in Sarah’s life that would lead her to do such a devastating thing — to herself, to James, or to her darling children. Do you think she was ill?’

  ‘Not physically, no.’ His mother was quite emphatic. ‘She said that she’d recently had a health MOT and she was fighting fit. Mentally? Of course I’m no expert, but she had times when she was,’ Harriet frowned, ‘overly concerned by things, especially when they involved Miles and Ryan. All mothers are protective, or they should be, but sometimes I thought there was an underlying, and slightly out-of-proportion, anxiety about the children’s wellbeing.’

  ‘You never said anything.’

  ‘It wasn’t something I could explain really, and I thought that maybe I was just being over sensitive. But now this has happened, I keep thinking there were other things that I should have paid more attention to.’

  ‘We’re all experts after the event, Mum. I don’t think anyone would have been able to predict what happened.’ He pulled his mother’s notepad towards him and read through the list. ‘You’ve been very thorough.’

  ‘I know there’s not a lot we can do until we have the death certificate, but I need to make plans. At least there is the Tell Us Once system in place now, and that makes notifying official bodies much easier.’ She took another sip of wine. ‘Poor James. Sarah was his lifeline to the real world. He’s so like your father, I’m not sure how he’ll cope.’

  ‘That’s where Ella could be a blessing. She’ll make sure the kids have their school kit washed and their lunches paid for.’ He tilted his head to one side. ‘Talking about people being alike, she’s very much like Sarah, isn’t she? Not in looks, but in character and the way she behaves.’

  ‘Could have been sisters. I always thought that. And without Ella, Sarah would have struggled after Miles was born.’ His mother bit her lip and looked at him anxiously. ‘Do you think it’s connected? The postnatal depression?’

  ‘I doubt it, Mum. She made a full recovery, and it’s a common problem. I don’t spend a lot of time with them as a family, although I love taking the boys out for treats every now and again, but I never witnessed anything to suggest she was depressed.’

  Harriet emptied her glass. ‘I suppose going over and over all this is quite natural, but it isn’t getting us anywhere, is it?’

  ‘We need to talk it out.’

  She sighed. ‘And James most of all.’

  Jackman knew she was right. James existed in parallel universes. In one, he revelled in his business ventures and was totally in command, and in the other, with his family, Sarah ruled. Even though she worked part time, she had run the home, organised the children. She planned their holidays, found great days out, parties and surprises. James had just been willingly swept along, almost like a third child, enjoying every minute. Now he had no navigator. His children needed him, but Jackman had a feeling that James would not, or could not, be there for them.

  ‘Rowan?’ His mother was smiling at him rather sadly. ‘I do appreciate you helping out right now, but don’t let your work suffer, will you? I know what it means to you.’

  ‘Family comes first,’ he said quickly.

  ‘I know, but I just wanted you to know that although your father never
quite understood why you wanted to be a policeman, I did. And I know why you are happy as you are, not treading on people to get up the ladder.’

  ‘Do you really know why I wanted to be a policeman, Mum?’

  ‘Of course, I do. I’m your mother!’

  Jackman looked at her with undisguised surprise. ‘I never said anything, did I?’

  ‘You didn’t have to.’ She sat back. ‘Correct me if I’m wrong. It was winter and you must have been, oh, eight or nine, and you were helping out in the stables. Something happened and you heard shouting coming from the exercise barn. Something had spooked one of the bigger horses and he had lashed out, catching one of the grooms and knocking her unconscious. Before you could raise the alarm you saw a man come out of nowhere, and leap in front of the horse before it could trample the girl. Somehow he managed to calm the beast, and then carry the groom to safety. He knew exactly what to do to help her until the ambulance arrived.’ Harriet grinned at him. ‘Right so far?’

  Jackman nodded. ‘I found out later he was an off-duty policeman waiting to collect his daughter who was one of your stable hands. He was so brave, and so in control. And that’s what I wanted to do, to help people. After that, I never wanted to be anything else.’

  ‘You changed that day, boy. You had a different appreciation for people and for how they behaved.’

  ‘Sad that even if I made chief constable, Dad would probably only be mildly accepting.’ He grinned ruefully at her. ‘As a mere DI, I’m a terrible disappointment.’

  ‘Actually, he’s very proud of what you do. Just don’t ask him to admit it. If he did, he’d have nothing to complain about.’

  ‘What, you mean all that waste of a university education? No drive to attain that gold braid? No incentive to get wealthy? And so on and so on.’

  ‘That’s the kind of thing.’ Her smile faded. ‘Rowan, please find out what happened to Sarah! You are an excellent detective, the best. So please get us some answers.’

  ‘Actually, Mum, that’s exactly what I intend to do. I know something isn’t right, so yes, I’ll get you answers, even if they aren’t what we want to hear. I’ll find the truth.’

  CHAPTER FIVE

  DC Robbie Melton hurried across to Marie’s desk. ‘Morning, Sarge. I’ve just seen the desk sergeant on my way in, and he says there’s a suspicious death down near the river. He’s asked for a CID presence. Can we attend?’

  ‘Great! Just what we need when the boss is out of action.’ Marie stood up. ‘Any more info than that?’

  Robbie shook his head. ‘Sorry, Sarge, not much. He said that there’s this old guy who’s dead, but although it looks like suicide, he’s not convinced.’

  The mention of another suicide made Marie stiffen. ‘Sure, go tell him we’re on our way. And grab Max if he’s free. Three heads might be better than two. If Sergeant Conway is feeling iffy over this, ten-to-one he has good reason. I’ll go and get the keys to a pool car. See you in the parking area.’

  He nodded and trotted over to the door. Robbie was the latest addition to the CID team. He hadn’t been with them for long, but already fitted in well.

  As Marie made her way downstairs, she wondered what had roused the sergeant’s suspicions. The sad reality was that it wasn’t uncommon to find vagrants and street people dead.

  * * *

  As soon as they arrived at the scene, they pulled on all-in-one overalls and shoe-protectors and went to examine the body.

  A single uniformed police officer stood by the blue-and-white cordoning, and another kept watch a few feet away.

  Without contaminating anything, Marie got as close as she dared and stood silently, appraising the scene.

  The man had a craggy face and stubble. He was dressed in torn, dirty clothes and lay curled up in a pool of blood. His body was close to the edge of a rather overgrown and rarely used footpath that ran along the margin of the river. Close to his right hand lay a bloody Stanley knife, and on closer inspection Marie could see that the blood had come from a deep wound in his left wrist. It certainly appeared to be a suicide, but she was beginning to understand the uniformed officer’s concerns.

  ‘The doc is on his way, ma’am,’ said PC Kevin Stoner. ‘I haven’t requested any forensics yet. I thought we should wait for your opinion.’

  ‘We’re definitely going to need them, Kev.’

  ‘You have the same reservations as the sarge?’

  ‘Probably.’ She stared at the body. ‘How many street deaths have you seen where the victim slit their wrists?’

  ‘None, ma’am. They usually drink themselves into the grave with dodgy alcohol, or else they overdose, starve, get mugged, or get hypothermia.’

  ‘Mmm.’ She turned to Max and Robbie. ‘Your thoughts?’

  ‘His hands are dirty, Sarge, but not ingrained with filth like most rough sleepers,’ Robbie observed. ‘And he’s got neatly trimmed fingernails.’

  ‘This bloke is no homeless tramp,’ Max asserted.

  ‘Explain.’

  ‘His hair, Sarge. Sure it’s dirty, like the rest of him, but you can’t fake an expensive haircut.’

  Marie looked closer. ‘How do you know that?’

  Max threw her a mocking look. One of the coolest and smartest young detectives in Saltern, he could easily have passed for a GQ model. ‘This man uses a top stylist, trust me on that one. It’s been roughed up a bit, but the cut is awesome, for an old geezer.’

  ‘Beautifully put, Max.’ Marie tried not to smile. ‘But I agree. We need a pathologist, and a SOCO or two.’

  ‘I’ll arrange that.’ Robbie already had his phone out.

  She turned to PC Stoner. ‘Kevin? I want either a tent or some tarpaulins erected, and get this area sealed off. This is now a crime scene, so if you would establish a security log?’

  Kevin nodded and started talking into his radio.

  ‘Are we looking at murder, Sarge?’ Robbie and Max stared down at the unfortunate man.

  ‘To be honest, guys, I have no idea what we are looking at, but it certainly isn’t a vagrant with a death wish.’

  * * *

  Marie arrived back in the CID office to hear her phone ringing.

  ‘Marie, I need your help. If I come over now, can you spare an hour?’ Jackman’s voice was urgent.

  She explained what had just occurred, then added, ‘But I’ve already got uniform out talking to locals and street people, and Charlie and Rosie are tracking down CCTV cameras in the area, so frankly I’ve done all I can until the forensic guys have something for us. Come as soon as you like.’

  When Jackman walked in, the first thing Marie noticed was that his air of shocked numbness had gone. His step was brisk and his expression animated. He pointed to his office, and after checking that the team was fully occupied, she followed him in.

  Jackman’s eyes glittered. He threw himself into his chair, and said, ‘We were right.’

  Marie sat opposite him. ‘You’ve found something?’

  ‘I went to Rainham Lodge early this morning to get some things for the boys, and I found her work bag pushed right into the back of Ryan’s wardrobe. She used that bag for work every day, but she left it behind on the day she disappeared.’

  Marie frowned. ‘And that tells us what?’

  ‘Her laptop wasn’t in it. Apparently she used it as an appointments diary and a memo pad, and kept a ton of work stuff on it. It was practically glued to her, and she always kept it in her work bag.’

  ‘So where is it?’

  ‘She tried to destroy it.’

  ‘What? Why?’

  ‘I’m hoping IT can tell us that.’ He produced a smashed and dented laptop from a carrier bag and laid it on his desk. ‘I found it at the bottom of the rubbish collection bin last night. Bit of luck really, as the bin men call today.’

  ‘I’m seeing the bigger picture.’

  He gave her a grim smile. ‘Also, my mother said that Sarah was anxious and preoccupied a few weeks back. A close friend of
Sarah’s rang mother and said she hadn’t been returning her calls, which was very unusual.’

  ‘But James never noticed anything odd about her behaviour?’ asked Marie. ‘It’s usually the husband or the wife who takes the brunt of mood changes.’

  Jackman shook his head. ‘He swears she was absolutely normal.’

  ‘Then she was either a damned good actress, or it had nothing at all to do with her family and she didn’t want to worry them with what was bothering her.’

  Jackman shuffled through some papers. ‘Ryan gave me her Facebook password, and I’ve been trawling through the posts. There’s a few weirdos who want to be “friends,” but so far nothing too sinister.’ He stared at the battered laptop. ‘It’s what’s on this that I want to see.’

  Marie looked at the cracked and broken device and wondered what on earth Sarah had hit it with. If IT could salvage that, they’d be miracle workers. Then again they were, weren’t they? Or their boss, Orac, certainly was. Marie tried hard not to laugh. So that was why the laptop was still here and not already down in the basement department. Jackman couldn’t face Orla Cracken, the techno-wizard in charge of the IT unit. She was certainly off-putting, with her white blonde hair styled in a Mohican cut and her mirror contact lenses, but she was incredibly smart. She loved to tease Jackman.

  ‘Want me to run it downstairs for you?’

  Jackman beamed at her. ‘Oh please, Marie, only I really should go and have a word with Ruth Crooke, and . . .’

  ‘Relax. I’ll take it, okay?’ She looked at him. ‘If that was her work computer, surely she backed all her files up? Maybe there’s an external hard drive somewhere, a memory stick. Or if she used something like Dropbox and you had her email address and password, you could access all her information from any computer.’

  Jackman drew in a breath. ‘Good point!’

  Marie stood and gathered up the carrier bag and laptop. ‘But first, let’s ask Orac to work some magic, shall we? If she fails, and she never has before, we’ll go the backup route.’

  Jackman nodded. ‘Thanks. I’ll have a word with my brother and search the house thoroughly. This screams out that something is wrong with the whole situation.’ He paused. ‘Oh, I forgot to tell you the most important thing. Ryan and Miles’s old nanny, Ella Jarvis, has agreed to come back to live in for a while.’