Crucified

Chapter 21

Jack waited in the visiting room for an hour and a half and was eventually told by a male doctor that Maria Barras had undergone major surgery and was now in the recovery ward, heavily sedated. He would not be able to interview her for at least 24 hours. Frustrated, Jack had asked if Mrs Barras would recover, but the doctor was non-committal. He gave him his phone number and asked to be updated regarding her condition. Then he headed into work.

Jack went up to the canteen only to find the hot lunches had already been served, but limp salad and some dried-up cold cuts were still available. He decided not to bother and went into the incident room to find it half empty. The only news was that DI Armani had organised a community meeting at the YMCA hall the following evening. Jack threw his jacket over the back of his chair and started looking at the files left on his desk with a Post-it note asking him to appraise the contents. He was flipping through the reports when Laura came in, looking pissed off.

‘She’s got us schlepping round the high-rises delivering bloody leaflets. Everyone is pissed off. DCI Clarke seems to support her strategy for breaking up the gangs — but I’m not the only one who thinks it’s getting out of hand.’

Jack gave Laura a quick nod as DI Armani walked in. Laura turned.

‘Just filling DS Warr in on the leaflet distribution, Ma’am.’

Jack stood up as Armani gestured for him to follow her into DCI Clarke’s office.

‘What the hell have you been doing? Why didn’t you contact me?’ she said angrily as soon as he’d closed the door behind him.

‘I’m sorry, but I have been waiting at the ICU unit for Mrs Barras to get out of surgery, but then I was told she was not in a state to be interviewed. And you can’t use mobile phones in the unit.’

She waved his excuses away. ‘Just tell me how she is.’

‘They wouldn’t give me any details, only that she was in the recovery ward heavily sedated, and it could be some time before we can speak to her.’

‘So, you don’t know her condition?’

‘It’s serious, I know that much. I presume by now you must have the details of her husband’s arrest unless, of course, you were delivering leaflets and unable to...’

She pursed her lips in anger. ‘That’s enough, Detective Warr.’

Jack ignored her. ‘If you’d allowed me to revisit Mrs Barras, I know I could have persuaded her to make a statement so her husband couldn’t have...’

She glared at him angrily. ‘I won’t discuss this now.’

‘I am aware, Ma’am, that as a DS, your name was attached to the report when George Barras was previously arrested.’

Armani suddenly seemed to stumble forward, grabbing hold of the desk chair as though she was about to faint.

‘Ma’am?’ Jack caught her and helped her to sit. She was shaking, then she put her head in her hands and started sobbing. ‘Are you all right... do you want me to get some water?’

She sat up straight, wiping her face with the back of her hand, and remained silent. Jack didn’t really know what to say next.

‘If you want to speak freely with me, please know that you can. Nothing will leave this room.’

Armani took a series of deep breaths as the tension left her body. ‘Dear God, how one wrong move can turn round and bite you.’ She looked into Jack’s eyes and somehow, she knew she could trust him. ‘George is my sister’s son,’ she said quietly. ‘As a family, we have tried to deal with his mental health problems, but he has suffered severe PTS after serving in Afghanistan. It’s not an excuse, not anymore, but I am asking you to let me handle the situation. Maria will bring charges against him, and I will take care of her and ensure he remains in custody.’

Jack thought quickly about how he should react. ‘I’ll leave you to handle the situation, Ma’am. And perhaps after he’s sentenced, he’ll get the medical help he needs.’

‘Thank you,’ she said simply. Armani walked out of DCI Clarke’s office and Jack followed. As she collected her coat and briefcase, she gave Jack a small nod. ‘I’m going to the hospital if anyone wants to know where I am. I’ll be back at the station in the morning.’

Jack watched her as she walked out. She’d made a mistake — a terrible one — but he trusted her to make things right, as she trusted him to keep her secret.

Laura’s gossip sensors were twitching. ‘What happened? You were ages.’

‘You wouldn’t believe me even if I told you, which I am not going to. Instead, I am going to be a very diligent officer and wade through all of this crap.’

Jack arrived home and spent time playing with Hannah and Charlie.

Maggie didn’t get home until almost eight, and she was tired out, having had another rough day. Penny had made a shepherd’s pie for dinner, and Jack helped her put the kids to bed before he sat down with Maggie to eat.

He told her briefly about the situation with DI Armani. He could see that she was doing her best to be interested, but at the same time, her eyes were drooping.

‘Why don’t you go to bed, love,’ he said gently. ‘I’ll clear up down here and then I’ve got a bit of work to do. I’ll come up in a little while.’ She gave him a kiss, then went upstairs.

Shutting himself in his office with a large glass of wine, Jack began making notes. He wrote down as much as he could recall of his conversation with Helga, then everything he could remember about the description of the victim. Next he opened a drawer in his desk to remove the photographs he had cut from magazines after finding the invitation to the art gallery showing. He laid out all the pictures of Detmar Steinburg, the art dealer. Could he be missing and no one had reported it? That had to be doubtful, so he jotted down the gallery phone number from the invitation to call the following morning.

Jack then remembered the well-dressed black man he had seen at the framer’s. He had to skim through his mobile to find the exact date when he and Marius had been at the market, the day he had taken one of the invitations. He also noted that he had seen the wooden cross. Lastly, he searched around in his desk drawers to find an old burner phone, which he could use to contact the art gallery.

Maggie was fast asleep when Jack got into bed beside her. As his brain would not stop ticking over, he took one of her sleeping tablets. He had a lot to do the next day and needed a good night’s sleep.

The next day, Jack dressed in jeans and a sweater and his old leather bomber jacket, putting the now fully charged burner phone in his briefcase. Gladys could be heard hoovering the stairs, yanking the hoover cable after her and talking to someone on her phone. She gave him a beaming smile as he eased past her to collect the car keys and hurry out of the house just before nine thirty. He reckoned it might still be too early to call the art gallery, so he decided to get to the station and call from the car park.

By the time Jack was parked up, it was almost ten. He took the invitation out of the glove compartment along with his burner phone. Dialling the number, he waited as it rang three times before a posh-sounding woman answered.

‘Steinburg gallery.’

‘Good morning. I am just calling to confirm the gallery event is on this Saturday.’

‘Of course, the doors open at six thirty. We will be showing a new collection.’

‘Ah good, and I presume by black tie, that will be evening dress?’

‘Yes, as usual. May I ask who is calling?’

Jack picked up an empty bag of crisps and crinkled it near the phone, simultaneously saying he was flying in from Zurich, before cutting off the call. He sat thinking for a minute. So he must have been wrong about the victim being Detmar Steinburg. But he still wanted to check out the gallery. He was trying to think if his old dinner jacket and dress shirt would pass muster because there was no way he could afford to hire a monkey suit. Someone rapped on his window, and he whipped around to see Laura holding a takeaway coffee and wrapped toasted sandwich.

‘Get a move on. It’s after ten.’

He stashed the invitation and burner phone in the glove compartment and they headed into the station.

‘I don’t suppose you’ve heard anything from Josh?’ Laura asked.

Jack stopped in his tracks. ‘I thought we had both agreed to let this go.’

She held up her hands. ‘OK, yeah, you’re right. If it makes you feel better, I’ve already got rid of all the files on Middleton. And so far there’s been hardly anything in the press.’

Laura and Jack were the last to enter the boardroom to hear DCI Armani issuing instructions about the YMCA event, insisting officers record the attendees’ details and their relationship to the gang members. They did their best to look attentive.

By lunchtime, it was business as usual again in the incident room, but nothing urgent was happening. Armani came and leaned on Jack’s desk.

‘I thought you might want an update. I was at St Thomas’s most of last night and again this morning. Maria Barras has serious injuries but is recovering well from the surgery. The biggest concern is a skull fracture. She is going to remain in the ICU for the time being until I can organise a transfer to a private hospital.’

‘Thanks for telling me, Ma’am.’

‘George is being charged with GBH, and it will no doubt be a custodial sentence due to the previous assaults.’

‘It’s for the best.’

Armani nodded. ‘I hope this can remain strictly between us, Jack.’

‘Of course.’ He gave her a reassuring smile. She turned to leave, then paused. ‘I suppose you heard the news this morning? DCI Morrison was at the hospital and told me that their victim had died, so his case is now a murder investigation. A press release was issued this morning.’

Jack didn’t want to overreact or show that he already knew who Morrison was. ‘He’s with Fulham CID, isn’t he?’

‘I believe so; I worked with him a while back. Right: onwards and upwards with our current investigation DS Warr, and let’s hope we get some positive results from this evening.’ She walked out of the incident room.

Laura swung round in her chair. ‘Did I hear Mark Morrison’s name mentioned?’

‘You did. His unidentified victim has died. There was a press release this morning.’

Laura immediately went back to her computer. She signalled to Jack. ‘It’s on the database... I’ve got it up now.’

Jack feigned a lack of interest. He picked up a file and pushed his chair back. ‘I’ve got to go and get this copied.’

Standing in the gents, Jack wished he had never mentioned anything to Laura about the case. She was quite capable of saying the wrong thing to the wrong person without even realising. He needed to quash any further discussion by providing a weighty distraction...

Back in the incident room, he made his pitch. ‘I mean, we won’t be offended if you say no, but if you would agree to be his godmother, Maggie and I would really love that.’

‘Wow, Jack, I am really touched,’ Laura gushed. ‘Yes, of course, I would be proud to accept, and I promise to take it very seriously. I mean, I’m not that religious, but I was confirmed. Is it going to be at a church?’

‘Yeah, and then there will be a bit of a party afterwards. Maggie is organising it, but we don’t have a date set yet. I just wanted to make sure you’d be up for it.’

Laura put her arms around him. ‘I am really moved, Jack. Please tell Maggie I will do anything to help organise the celebration.’ Sitting back down with a broad smile still on her face, Laura seemed to have forgotten all about Mark Morrison and his mysterious murder victim. The rest of the afternoon was spent preparing for the event at the YMCA.

When Jack got home, it was after ten. Maggie had already gone to bed, and the kids were sleeping soundly. Penny had left some sandwiches under cling film on the kitchen table, so he tucked into them and had a large whisky before going up.

Maggie was reading when he walked in, shrugging off his leather jacket to toss on the floor by the wardrobe. ‘Do you want the good news or the bad news?’ he asked as he sat on the bed. Maggie didn’t answer, letting Jack choose how to start.

‘I have to say, Mags, Armani can be quite impressive when she tries. The YMCA Hall was only a quarter full, and there were a lot of no-shows, but those that did were very vocal. To start, a bloke stood up shouting that he wanted to know when Hammersmith Bridge was going to be working, as he was losing business.’

Maggie laughed as Jack kicked off his shoes.

‘After dealing with that, she got the message across with some real emotion, but it was the video footage that really did the job: footage of many of the young knife victims who died last year, and then photographs of the kids hanging out by school gates and in the snooker halls. As you know, I really wasn’t getting along with her, but I have to put my hand up and say she did a good job. She got a lot of positive feedback from the parents. And she got some press attention. Someone was there from the Daily Mail no less.’

‘OK, so that has to be the good news,’ Maggie said.

Jack, by now, had got down to his underpants and was standing at the open wardrobe door.

‘I needed to get Laura to keep her mouth shut about me trying to find out about the victim from the framer’s shop.’

‘My God, yes. I heard the news about him dying.’

‘I asked Laura to be Charlie’s godmother.’

‘What!’

‘You know the last thing I need is for her to start blabbing about me trying to find out about the victim.’

‘So, it’s a bribe?’ Maggie couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

‘She’s over the moon, Mags. I’m sorry, I know I should have discussed it with you.’

‘Of course you should have. I hardly even know Laura. And I was going to ask the matron I work with.’

‘Well, I definitely don’t know her!’ Jack grinned. ‘Look, we haven’t even set a date yet. And she offered to help with organising it.’

Maggie sighed, tossing the book aside. ‘Well, at least you have to start thinking about the christening now. We have to talk to the vicar and decide whether to do a buffet at the house or in a pub.’

‘You know me, Mags. I’ll go along with anything you suggest.’ Jack removed his old, hardly used black suit, with dress shirt beneath, from the wardrobe. ‘Do you think Mum could sort this for me? It’s all creased up and has a few stains. Or do I need to send it away?’

‘You won’t need that for a christening, Jack.’

He hesitated, deciding now was not the time to tell her about visiting the art gallery. Instead, he went into the bathroom to clean his teeth. He was saved from explaining when the baby monitor kicked in, and Maggie jumped out of bed to check on Charlie. A few moments later, Penny tapped on the bedroom door to ask for Maggie’s dressing gown. Charlie was very restless, and it could be the start of teething or colic.

‘Mum, can you do me a favour? I need my dress shirt and suit. Can you spiff them up a bit?’ He passed her Maggie’s dressing gown, together with his suit and shirt. ‘No need to tell Mags, eh.’ Penny took the items without a word.

An hour later, when Maggie returned, Jack was asleep.

Jack was the first to leave in the morning as he was on early shift. When he got to the station, he found that Armani’s YMCA event was already bearing fruit. The custody sergeant was asking for assistance as parents had been bringing in weapons they had found in their son’s bedrooms. Two officers were assigned to collect, tag and store lethal knives and machetes. There were also plastic handguns, air rifles, baseball bats, even swords... the list went on.

Armani was in high spirits, but no one was resting on their laurels. Everyone on shift had their work cut out as there had also been a break-in at a local jewellery shop. The thieves, wearing black hoods, smashed the window and stole a selection of top-end watches. Armani had Laura visit the premises and had discussed with DCI Clarke adopting the same strategy against the thieves as two other local stations. They were using undercover officers wearing Rolex watches, to draw out the thieves who were robbing in the streets, often in broad daylight.

Jack was having lunch when Laura found him standing in line. ‘Jack, I was looking for you. Something’s going down.’

‘I heard. She wants undercover cops flashing gold watches acting as bait. I’ve been selected along with—’

She pulled at his arm. ‘It’s not that. I just saw Morrison and another detective in a meeting with DCI Clarke. You always know when something is up because he closes his blinds. He didn’t see me, but I just thought—’

‘No, Laura, you thought nothing.’ Jack moved up in the queue, hoping Laura would take the hint, which she did.

Jack got his lasagne and sticky toffee pudding and was eating at the same table as Nala and Kwame, discussing the array of weapons coming into the station, when Armani walked in, pausing in the doorway before heading towards his table.

‘DS Warr, you are wanted in the DCI’s office. Sorry to disturb your meal.’ Jack took a last mouthful of his lasagne before getting up and sliding his sticky toffee pudding across to the probationers to fight over. Passing Laura at her desk, she gave him a covert glance, but he ignored it and continued to DCI Clarke’s office. He knocked and waited a moment before he was ushered in.

Mark Morrison was sitting in front of Clarke’s desk, with Collingwood standing to one side. On the desk was a bulging file containing photographs and statements. Clarke made the introductions.

‘I don’t know if you are aware,’ he said, ‘but DCI Morrison has been leading the investigation into the now murder of an unidentified man discovered at a framer’s shop in Portobello Road.’ He hesitated, looking uncomfortable. ‘Jack, new evidence has emerged in the form of some CCTV footage.’

Morrison interjected. ‘You have some explaining to do, Detective Warr.’

Jack shrugged. ‘I’m happy help in any way I can...’

‘We have been reviewing CCTV footage from a camera opposite the framer’s shop,’ Morrison continued. ‘Can you explain why, on three different occasions, you were caught on camera entering the shop?’

Morrison spread out some printouts of the CCTV images and indicated Jack’s presence with his pencil. Jack leaned forward, looking intently at each picture with a date and time printed at the bottom.

‘Is that where the victim was discovered?’ he asked casually.

‘You know the answer to that,’ Morrison snapped. ‘As you can see from this photograph, you’re standing behind the crime scene tape.’

Jack hesitated a moment before asking if he could borrow Morrison’s pencil. He handed it to him with a frown.

‘The first time I was near the frame shop, I was with my wife Maggie and we were shopping for furniture for our loft extension. She can confirm that. There was a stall directly outside the framer’s, and I was looking at a Victorian doll for my daughter. Again, my wife will be able to confirm this.’

Morrison nodded. ‘We’ve talked to the stall owner.’

Jack then pointed to the second photograph. ‘I did go into the shop then because I was looking for an old-style frame. My son’s being christened soon and I wanted to frame a picture of him for my mum. She already has one of me at his age in an old frame and I wanted a matching one of Charlie. I spoke to a man who said he ran the shop; I didn’t get his name. But as I didn’t have the measurements, he suggested I come back when I had them, then he ushered me out. He was very abrasive, almost threatening.’

‘Yeah, Norman O’Reilly. We brought him in and he identified you,’ Morrison confirmed.

Jack leaned closer to the CCTV stills. He tapped the third one. ‘That’s when I came back with the measurements. I found a suitable gilt frame, and the same man asked ten pounds for it. I said it was not worth more than a fiver, and he snatched the frame from me. I obviously didn’t want a full-blown confrontation, so I left.’

‘Did you see a life-size cross in the shop?’ Morrison asked bluntly.

‘Yes. It looked like maybe two RSJs bolted together. I asked if it was a theatrical prop from Jesus Christ Superstar.’

‘And you didn’t think it was significant?’

‘It wasn’t mentioned in the news coverage and I’m not familiar with the case so...’

Morrison pursed his lips. ‘So, talk me through the last photograph, Detective Warr. There you are, clearly standing with other spectators behind the police tape, watching the police and SOCO going in and out of the shop.’

‘I had no idea what had happened. I was with my builder Marius that Saturday morning. We bought a carpet, more than likely from the same shop that you have the CCTV footage from. Marius and I were carrying the carpet back to his van — I expect that’ll be on CCTV too — when he called my attention to the police cordon and the patrol cars. I assumed whatever had happened was connected to the man who ran the place. I can give you Marius’s contact details.’

Jack could feel the sweat dripping from his armpits, but he remained calm and helpful as the tension in the room built. By now, Morrison was furiously gathering the photographs and shoving them into the file before snatching back his pencil.

He spat out his next words. ‘You expect us to believe that your presence at the murder site, on several occasions, was just a coincidence?’ Morrison glanced at Collingwood before continuing. ‘I also have information that you were present at St Thomas’s ICU unit, in the victim observation room with some of my officers, which was against my orders as we had not yet identified the victim.’

Jack glanced at Collingwood, who gave a tiny, almost apologetic shrug of his shoulders.

Morrison continued. ‘Detective Warr, you gained access to the ICU where the victim was being cared for and asked numerous questions regarding his identity.’

Again, Jack glanced at Collingwood and, this time, Morrison slapped the desk with his hand. ‘Don’t look at him! Look at me! There is hospital CCTV supporting everything I’ve just said. Collingwood had no option but to identify you.’

Jack took a moment to think. Morrison smirked, sure he had Jack in a corner. ‘DI Armani can confirm my reason for being at the ICU,’ Jack started. Morrison’s smirk vanished as he sensed Jack was about to slip out of this too. ‘I was checking on Maria Barras in connection with a domestic. Mrs Barras was undergoing an emergency operation, so I could not take a statement from her. I waited in the private visitors’ section for a considerable length of time before looking for the toilet. I don’t know if you’re familiar with the ICU building, but the layout is very confusing. After using the toilet, I mistakenly went down the wrong corridor on the way back to the visitors’ section.’

Jack raised a hand apologetically towards Collingwood before continuing.

‘I don’t want to get anyone into trouble but, in the corridor, I bumped into an officer named Ralph Jordan, with whom I had been on a training course a few years back. He asked if I wanted a coffee and invited me into the ICU victim viewing room. I accepted. I was told why your team were there. Up until that point, I had no knowledge of the victim’s location or the nature of his injuries. After finishing my coffee, I was asked to leave. I returned to the waiting room, where I waited another hour and a half before I was informed that Mrs Barras’s surgery was complete, but that I still could not speak to her.’

Morrison took out another file and removed a stack of photographs. As he laid them on the desk, Jack held his breath as he tried to guess what Morrison was going to throw at him next. Many of these new CCTV images were blurred, but he could see they were customers entering and leaving the framer’s shop. Inside, Jack started to panic.

‘We have a number of photographs of this man.’ Morrison tapped away at the images with his pencil. ‘He is seen entering the framer’s shop, then carrying out a number of frames.’

The first image showed Adam Border with his baseball hat pulled down low over his face, which was turned away as though he knew where the shop cameras were located. The second had him with the same baseball cap, sunglasses and again carrying two frames. Jack took his time, looking at the two photographs, then sat back.

‘Well... without a full face of the bloke in the baseball cap it’s hard to tell... but I’m pretty sure I don’t know him.’ Jack looked at Morrison. ‘Is he the victim?’

Morrison shoved the photos back in the file with a scowl.

‘Is he the suspect then?’

Morrison stood up. ‘This is not over, Detective Warr. I don’t believe in coincidences and by Christ I have a slew of them with your name on them!’

Jack looked to DCI Clarke, who nodded for him to leave. Jack walked calmly to the door, glad he was wearing a jacket because he knew his shirt would be soaking wet with sweat. As he returned to his desk, Laura rocked back in her chair, not even needing to ask.

‘I’ll fill you in later,’ Jack assured her.

‘Not good enough, Jack,’ she said vehemently. ‘Morrison hasn’t seen me yet, Jack. Was that about me calling him the other day?’

‘No, you weren’t even mentioned. Do us both a favour, Laura, go into the loo, and stay there until they leave.’

Laura shook her head. ‘How the hell will I know when they’ve gone? I’ll go for lunch. I’ve been too worried to eat till now!’

‘Great, go on then. Hurry up!’

Laura left the incident room and Jack remained at his desk for half an hour before Morrison and Collingwood walked out of DCI Clarke’s office. Morrison strode out, without so much as a glance at Jack, allowing Collingwood to hang back for a second.

‘Sorry to drop you in the shit, Jack. No hard feelings.’

‘None. I hope you get your victim identified.’

Collingwood shook his head. ‘You must be joking. All we’ve got is crank calls, the victim’s physical description doesn’t match anyone on any missing person’s list. Morrison is clutching at every straw he sees. He reckons O’Reilly is our main suspect.’ Collingwood smiled. ‘After you.’

‘He could be right about O’Reilly. He was a thug basically.’ Jack was just about to suggest that they should check out what O’Reilly was shipping from Southampton docks when Morrison appeared at the doors, and Collingwood quickly joined him. Jack was relieved that Adam Border had been wise to the position of the shop’s CCTV cameras. But why was he so concerned about having his image recorded? He also thought about the tall, well-dressed black guy coming out of the shop when he’d found the invitations. Perhaps the camera was only picking up people entering the frame shop from one side, as he had done. Adam Border had walked out the first time he had seen him and turned to the right, and so had the elegant black guy. He sighed, doubting he could do anything about it unless he returned to the carpet shop opposite the framer’s and looked for himself.

For the rest of the afternoon, Jack found it hard to concentrate as he kept mulling over the meeting with Morrison. The shock of seeing the photos of Adam Border had really unnerved him. All it would take would be for one person to identify him from the investigation Jack had been involved in when Adam Border had been suspected of drug dealing and murder. Jack’s nerves started to jangle as he tried to remember what photographs of Adam Border they had on file.

As the incident room thinned out, Jack went into the records department with the intention of skimming through what had been retained about the years-old drug investigation, and what information they had on Adam Border.

As Jack sifted through the file, he was unable to find any adult photographs of Adam, only the ones they had uncovered from his childhood. He also became aware that due to his friendship with his old boss, Ridley had deleted any record of his suspicions about how Jack had traced Adam to his studio in Ireland. When the studio was searched, they had found no evidence that Adam had even been there. It had been wiped clean because Jack had given Adam the time to do that and then escape. Adam was very good at disappearing without a trace.

Returning to his desk in the incident room, he packed up, ready to leave. Before he did so, he recalled Ridley’s words: ‘Be careful Jack,’ Ridley had warned. ‘Border is a smart, dangerous liar. He’ll come back one day. Be ready.’