Crucified

Chapter 22

On Thursday the whole station was in a celebratory mood following numerous arrests of gang members based on tip-offs and community support. The local newspaper showed a picture of DI Armani with a group of grateful parents and she made it clear that the police were committed to ending the local gang wars.

Jack, however, was clearly in the doghouse as far as DCI Clarke was concerned; the last thing he needed was one of his officers being connected — however tangentially — to a murder case. Jack noticed Armani was now keeping her distance, too. Whether it was because he’d mentioned her as his ‘alibi’ during his interview with Morrison, he didn’t know, but he decided against bringing the subject up with her. She must know he hadn’t divulged her connection to George Barras, because she would have been dragged over the coals by now. In the end he put her aloofness down to her being busy with her new-found media profile.

The covert programme to put officers on the streets wearing expensive watches had started to show results, with four arrests being made after receiving information from two other stations. Jack was in the thick of things but kept one eye on developments in the framer’s shop murder investigation.

The still-unidentified victim was now being physically described using Collingwood’s words in the ICU: five feet nine to ten, late thirties to early fifties, tanned, muscular, with collar-length dark blond hair. The media still made no reference to the crucifixion, but they did elaborate on the appalling injuries inflicted, suggesting that it was a possible hate crime due to the perpetrator disfiguring the victim’s face. Jack knew that by withholding certain key details, the hundreds of officers manning the public phonelines would be able to more easily distinguish between nutcases and true potential leads.

To Jack’s relief, so far there were no references to CCTV images of people seen entering the framer’s shop. On his way into the station, Jack had checked the position of the CCTV camera across the road from the framer’s. It was angled to show the carpet shop’s display out in front, and it just took in the left side of the framer’s shop entrance which was still covered in yellow crime scene tape. It was why the elegant black man had not been caught on camera, but Jack had been, along with Border who had been wearing his baseball cap pulled low and dark glasses.

Jack was packing up, ready to go home. Laura was at her desk and leaned back in her chair to indicate she had something to say. ‘Guess what, DCI Morrison has asked me on a date. I couldn’t believe it. I said to him was it just a drink and he said he was offering dinner.’

‘And?’

‘I accepted. You know what I think, it’s because of what I told you about Cruella working with him. I saw the reaction when he saw her, and she was just as tense. I’m going over to Fulham after work tonight.’

‘Well don’t have too much to drink.’

‘I won’t, and I’ll see what nuggets I can find out about his murder case.’

Jack was still shaking his head when he got to the car park. With Laura’s total inability to be subtle, Jack often wondered how on earth she had managed to become a police officer in the first place.

When Jack arrived home just after six, Maggie was in the nursery with Charlie, while Penny and Hannah were having dinner in the kitchen. Jack asked about his evening shirt and Penny said it had been washed and ironed and it was in the bedroom with his pressed jacket. Jack rolled his eyes, knowing Maggie would see it and ask what he was up to. As he left the room, Penny called after him, ‘You’re welcome!’

Jack was looking for a bow tie when Maggie came in with Charlie balanced on her hip. ‘Guess who just had a chicken and veg mush for his dinner?’ Maggie handed Charlie to Jack so she could change her top which was covered in the aforementioned mush. ‘So,’ Maggie smiled, ‘are you going somewhere posh?’

‘I’m trying to find my bow tie. Not the velvet one, the black one that you have to tie for me,’ Jack said, ignoring the question.

Maggie opened some drawers and soon held up a crumpled bow tie.

‘It needs a bit of a press,’ he said. ‘What about trousers?’ He watched her hunting through his wardrobe before bringing out a pair he hadn’t worn for years. They even had a turn-up.

‘These sort of match the jacket,’ she said. ‘Please don’t tell me it’s one of those Met retirement dinners. I don’t have to come do I?’

Jack grinned. He should have thought of that. He passed Charlie back to her, then took the trousers and bow tie for Penny to press. ‘All will be revealed in due course.’

By the time Hannah was bathed and settled in front of a cartoon, Maggie was rocking Charlie to sleep, and Penny already had the ironing board set up and was pressing Jack’s trousers with a damp cloth. The bow tie still looked as if it had seen better days. Jack helped by putting the ironing board away, then took the trousers upstairs to hang them with the jacket and evening shirt. He passed Maggie on the stairs.

‘Is it something to do with Ridley?’

‘I wish it was. You know nobody has heard a word about him. Let alone from him.’

Maggie laid a gentle hand on Jack’s arm. ‘I’ll open a bottle to have with dinner.’

‘I’ll be right down.’

While they ate, Maggie listened to Jack explain what had gone down at the station with regards to his jaunts to the framer’s and to the ICU all being caught on CCTV. Maggie sighed as she cleared the plates.

‘I hope this is a warning to you, Jack. You have to forget this obsession with Adam Border and look out for yourself.’

‘It’s not an obsession, Mags. I did think he could be their victim, but after I’d seen the victim in ICU, I knew that it wasn’t Adam. But...’

‘Please don’t go into details of his injuries again. It’s hard to even imagine the motive behind such an atrocious method of murder, and the crucifixion is just horrific. No wonder they have kept that out of the press.’

‘The “but”, Mags, is that I have a good idea who the victim might be... come up to the office and let me show you.’

‘It’s getting late, Jack.’

‘You wanted to know why I’ve got the evening suit ready.’

Maggie cleared the kitchen before locking the front door and coming up to Jack’s office. Fifteen minutes later she was sitting beside him, holding the gold embossed invitation in her hands. On the screen, Jack had Googled the art gallery in Bond Street.

‘Apparently, Detmar Steinburg has galleries all over Europe and has exclusive viewings for his rich clients. Now look at all these photos of him. He’s the right age, size, build, and I know he was Adam’s dealer; well, I think it’s him.’

Maggie sighed, putting the invitation back down on his desk.

‘I called the art gallery to check the viewing was still going ahead, because if it wasn’t, I reckoned I could be right that this Detmar was the victim. But when I rang, I was told it was happening.’

‘So, if Detmar is there, your theory’s wrong.’

‘Yeah. But it could still be useful. It could be someone who works for him, like that black guy I saw at the framer’s when I lifted that invitation.’

‘Don’t you think you’re taking this too far, Jack?’

Jack swung back in his chair. ‘This will be my last opportunity to see if I can come up with anything. Look at all my notes... I am not just arsing around, Mags; I think I’m on the right track. Which is better than Morrison who thinks I’m his fucking killer.’

She picked up his pages of notes. ‘But what if you are on the right track? You’re taking a big risk of being caught. And if you find a connection, what do you intend to do with it? This isn’t your investigation. Would you just forward everything to this Morrison guy?’

‘Maybe. I’d have to think about it. Right now, they have zilch, no identification and just one suspect: the thug who works in the framer’s. And when Morrison was trying to implicate me, DCI Clarke sat on his arse giving me no backup whatsoever. He’s virtually cold-shouldered me ever since, and now bloody Armani is circling around me like I’m contagious. I want some respect again, Mags. Some kudos.’

Maggie tapped the page she was reading. ‘What does this mean: “Joe Orpen and his partner”?’

‘It was something Adam said to me when he was describing his dealer, that he was like that fella, but I’ve not checked it out yet.’

‘Is he an artist?’

‘Probably. I’ll follow it up properly when I’ve not got so much in my head. At this event, I have to come across as an art buyer or expert.’

Maggie laughed. ‘Good luck with that!’ She was at the door when she paused and looked back. ‘You know, Jack, I’m finding it hard to keep up with you; first you tell me you’re concerned the victim could be Adam, then when you learnt more at the ICU, you’re certain it isn’t. Next you’re a murder suspect because they have you on CCTV visiting the framer’s shop. That’s supported by more CCTV from the ICU where you saw the victim. And now tonight you bring up someone else you saw in the bloody framer’s who could be the dead guy on the cross... oh, that’s right, the giant cross you saw at the crime scene!’

Jack frowned. ‘What is all this, Maggie?’

‘Jack, you need to straighten yourself out. Firstly, you’re withholding evidence. Now you’re planning to go to this dealer’s gallery, because you think you know who the victim is... So what if you do discover who it is? How are you going to explain being at the gallery?’

‘You don’t get it, Maggie.’

‘No. I don’t. Surely the most important thing is that whoever did this horrific murder is found. Withholding the information you already say you have might prevent that.’

‘I’m not listening to you anymore,’ Jack said.

Maggie stood her ground. ‘Why not? Why not, unless... right, I’m just going to say it. Do you think Adam Border killed that man? Is that why you’re trying your best to pin it on someone else? Because the longer you keep silent Jack, the further away he’s getting. Aided and abetted by you.’

Jack turned away refusing to answer, and he was shocked when instead of leaving she angrily stepped closer. ‘You did it before. You think I don’t know, Jack.’ Maggie then walked out, slamming the door closed behind her.

Maggie was in the bathroom splashing water on her reddened face when Jack came in and stood looking at her in the mirror. ‘You make it all sound like a game, Jack. Just consider what was done to the victim. Whoever did it, is so very, very dangerous. You have a family and if anything happened to you... it doesn’t even bear thinking about. Your job worries me at the best of times, but here you have no one backing you up. You’re all on your own.’

Maggie hadn’t seen it for a while, that steely anger when his eyes got dark. But she saw it now.

‘You should have more faith in me. I know what I am fucking doing. Do you not think I have been planning this in detail? This is my job, Mags. Chasing a killer, not sitting at a bloody desk checking files on kids who’ll get nothing more than a rap over the knuckles.’

Maggie shook her head sadly. ‘Adam really has a hold on you. You’re doing this for him, aren’t you?’

‘Wrong! I am doing this for me, all right, for me!’ Jack stormed out.

Maggie got into bed and turned out the light. The following morning, with Jack’s half of the bed empty, she assumed he’d slept on the sofa or in his office. By the time she went into the kitchen, Penny was clearing up the breakfast dishes.

‘Jack left early,’ Penny confirmed. ‘He seemed to be in one of his moods and I asked if he was all right, but he just walked out.’

Maggie sighed and then did her best to smile. ‘He’ll be fine.’