Dark Rooms

Chapter Four

Even after the detour to interview Mrs Forgham, Jane was still at the station by nine. And again the incident room was eerily empty as the detective sergeant had detailed many of the officers to interview the previous residents of the house in Stockwell. But DCI Carter was in his office and looked up tetchily as Jane knocked to enter.

‘I think we might have a breakthrough, sir. I met with Brian Forgham’s widow.’

Carter frowned, obviously trying to work out who she was talking about.

‘He was the man who looked after the property when the flats were occupied, but he was murdered five years ago.’

Carter gave her a quizzical look. ‘Well, I don’t know what you call a breakthrough, but that doesn’t seem to be a very positive lead.’

Jane tried to ignore his sarcasm. ‘It is, sir. They had a daughter, aged twenty-two, and according to the widow, she has not been seen for the same period of time the pathologist estimates our victim to have been dead... five years.’ Jane opened her briefcase. ‘I have a photograph of her and, although it was taken when she was about twenty, she has long blonde hair. Her mother described her as being well dressed, spending money on fashionable clothes.’

Carter squinted at the photo. ‘Well, we can’t tell what the hell the dead girl used to look like, so you need to find her dental records and see if they match the teeth on our girl.’

Jane nodded. ‘If you turn the photo over you’ll find the name of her dentist. The girl’s name’s Samantha. I’d also like to go and talk to her boyfriend. He’s currently in Wandsworth prison for the murder of Brian Forgham. After the murder, the officers tried to trace Samantha but I think they assumed she’d done a runner when he was arrested.’

Carter rocked back in his chair. ‘My, my, my, you really are a one-woman force — although I’m not sure what you hope to get from Forgham’s killer. Your main priority is to see if the teeth match. Also, I’m not putting much focus on the dead baby at the moment. If we can clear up the main case, that’s probably the best we can do.’

It sounded to Jane as if Carter resented her even discovering the baby. ‘Thank you very much, sir,’ she said, trying to keep her tone neutral as she closed the door behind her.

Carter drummed his fingers on his desk. He had been tipped off that Jane Tennison was not exactly a ‘team player’, but he had to admit that if she was proved right, and they had identified their victim, it was an impressively fast turnaround.

Jane allocated DC Tim Taylor to check out the dentist and find out if he’d had a patient called Samantha Forgham, and if so to get the X-rays checked to see if there was a match with their victim.

Jane went to have a quick breakfast in the canteen before asking the duty sergeant to contact Wandsworth prison to arrange a formal meeting with Simon Root. The message quickly came back that Root was in a rehabilitation group in the morning, but she could have a meeting with him at noon. Jane decided that, rather than returning to the incident room and the official monitoring by Carter, she would go and see if they had any update for her at the forensic lab. In particular, she wanted to see if Emra Saddell could give her access to the clothes worn by their victim.

Emra was her usual pleasant self, complaining only briefly about the length of time the pathologist was taking. They had already sent samples of the victim’s hair for a toxicology report, but Detective Sergeant Lloyd Johnson was a stickler for going by the rule book and he wouldn’t even estimate how long he would need to examine the mummified baby. Emra led Jane over to trestle tables covered in white paper where the victim’s clothes and footwear were laid out. The boots were size five, well worn, and from the shoe shop Saxone. The tights the victim had worn were frayed and Emra pointed out the period stains on the crotch. The victim’s skirt was very short and made of PVC, and the sweater, which had once been white, was stained with sweat discolouration under the armpits.

‘Not a very hygienic young lady, but nevertheless a tragic one,’ Emra said. ‘To have been chained up and starved to death is horrific.’

Lastly, Jane looked at the jacket and the items that had been removed from the pockets: bus tickets, cinema tickets and some lip gloss. Emra then showed Jane a transparent plastic container full of bangles worn by the victim.

‘They’re actually rather good quality,’ Emra said. ‘One’s eighteen carat gold and three are solid silver. You can see inscribed on the gold bangle Happy 21st birthday. Daddy.’

Jane wrote this down in her notebook. ‘Thanks, Emra. I think we may have identified her, and if we’re right she was working as a prostitute and was possibly a heroin addict.’

‘Well, we will know if she was using drugs when they do the toxicology report on her hair,’ Emra said. ‘Anything on the baby?’ she added.

Jane raised an eyebrow. ‘If you ask me, I reckon DCI Carter wishes I’d never found it. I think he’ll try to do as little as possible with it.’

Emra gave Jane a half smile. ‘Don’t worry. I won’t let this get sidelined. Whoever hid that baby will be hiding a terrible secret.’

Simon Root appeared younger than Jane had expected from his mug shot, which had been taken five years ago. He was around five feet ten inches, with very dark, straight, collar-length hair and dark brown eyes, and was actually quite good-looking. Like most of the other prisoners, he was clutching a packet of cigarettes as he sat nervously in front of Jane.

‘Is this about my appeal?’ he asked.

‘No, I’m not here in relation to your appeal. I need to ask you some questions about your relationship with Samantha Forgham.’

He raised his eyes to the ceiling. ‘Well, I can’t tell you much. I haven’t spoken to her or seen her since the night I got arrested, so I don’t know where she is. She never wrote once. Probably her bitch of a mother has been stopping her.’ He gave a strange snort of a laugh.

Jane had read the reports about the night of the murder. It appeared that Brian Forgham had gone into the pub looking for Simon and witnesses had claimed he had shouted at him across the bar. On seeing him, Simon had attempted to run. There had been some kind of confrontation inside the pub, but then it continued on the pavement outside.

Simon lit a cigarette, seeming tense and angry.

‘I don’t know what Samantha has been saying, but after all this time she should be ashamed of herself. She should have come forward because I never wanted to hurt her father. It was him coming after me. He threatened me. All I did was defend myself.’

‘At the time of your arrest, were you and Samantha living together?’ Jane asked.

‘Yeah, we had a room in a squat, but she often took off for days. I was trying to come off the junk... I was on methadone, but she was always trying to score. The other guys there were getting fed up with us not contributing cash for the food and stuff.’

Jane asked for the address of the squat, and he gave the same details that were on record from when he was arrested.

‘Did you see Samantha on the night her father approached you?’

‘Yeah, earlier in the evening. She was strung out, needing a fix. She told me she might catch up with me later. I never saw her again.’

The cigarette smoke was making Jane’s eyes water. ‘Can you tell me exactly what happened that night?’

‘I’ve told everybody a hundred times. I was defending myself. I didn’t set out to murder him. He came after me.’

‘Simon, can you remember exactly what Mr Forgham said to you?’

‘Yes, of course I can. I can remember every fucking word. He said, “I’ve got Samantha and she is never going to see you again. I’m getting her off drugs and if you try to see her, I’ll have the coppers on to you.”’

Jane quickly jotted it all down. ‘Simon, do you know if Mr Forgham had seen Samantha that night?’

He shrugged. ‘I don’t know, I presume he must have, ’cos he also said something about me turning his daughter into a whore, which wasn’t fucking true. She just wanted to make money. That’s all it was.’

‘When Mr Forgham said he had got Samantha, did you presume he had been with her before he came looking for you?’

‘I don’t know, but he threw this punch at me. It was a full right hand, right in my face, and he was a big man. So, I did what I did to protect myself, then I ran off.’

Jane tapped her notebook with her pen, turned back a page and then forward again. ‘Simon, do you think Mr Forgham could have taken Samantha somewhere?’

He shrugged. ‘I don’t know. All I remember him saying was that she was somewhere safe, away from me.’

At three that afternoon Mr Kenneth Patterson, dental surgeon, confirmed that he had a patient called Samantha Forgham, but she had not been to his surgery for five years. He had taken a dental X-ray of Samantha when she was aged twenty and had a troublesome wisdom tooth extracted. He said they were fortunate because, in most cases, after that length of time they would have destroyed the X-rays, but because it had been such a complicated extraction, he had retained them for future reference.

Jane was in her office typing up a report of her meeting with Sharon Forgham and the interview with Simon Root. From what Simon had said, she thought there was a possibility that Brian Forgham had taken his daughter back to the Stockwell property.

Jane’s suspicion was that, determined to get her off the streets and off the drugs, he had locked her in the shelter, intending to return. But instead, Samantha’s boyfriend had killed him. She spent some time checking through all the files. After Root’s arrest, the officers had tried to contact Samantha but had been unable to trace her. There were references to conversations with Mrs Forgham, who also said she had no idea where her daughter was and that she had not lived at home for some considerable time.

Officers had visited the squat and it was determined that Samantha had gone off with a drug dealer she was known to score heroin from. The search for Samantha was not continued, as her mother had never reported her missing.

Despite being sure she was right, Jane decided to wait for the confirmed evidence of the X-rays before running her scenario by anyone. There was still a number of questions she wanted answers to. She needed to establish how many of the tenants were in residence on the night of 16 September 1980, the night Samantha’s father was murdered. She was aware, from the work the team had done, that some of the residents had not been traced but she felt that five years was a long time for the body to have remained in the shelter without anybody knowing.

Jane now wanted to find out who had replaced Brian Forgham as the maintenance manager of the property, and if she could find any witnesses to validate her theory.

Her desk phone rang. It was one of the clerical staff saying that there was a Mr Arnold Hadley on the line, from Hadley, McKenzie & March. He had been asked to call into the station as his client, Jason Thorpe, had owned the property in Stockwell before it was sold to the development company.

Jane took the call, introducing herself and thanking Mr Hadley for contacting them.

‘That’s quite all right,’ he said before explaining his client’s involvement with the property. Mr Hadley appeared to be a pleasant and accommodating man, who seemed appalled at what had been discovered. He was able to clarify that Jason Thorpe had arranged for the house to be divided into six flats, and at that time it had seemed to be a good investment. The actual owner was a Miss Helena Lanark, Jason Thorpe’s aunt, who had inherited the property from her father. She had allowed her nephew to lease the flats until it had become unprofitable as the house now required extensive repairs and there were several problematic tenants.

‘I’m sorry to interrupt you, Mr Hadley, but what did you mean by problematic?’

‘I believe some were subletting, and some were not paying the rent. Miss Lanark’s nephew lives in Australia, but he had hired a very good managing agent to oversee the tenants and the maintenance.’

‘Was that Brian Forgham?’ Jane asked.

‘Yes, that is correct. Mr Thorpe had hired him personally.’ Mr Hadley hesitated. ‘I don’t know if you are aware, but Mr Forgham met with a very tragic end.’

‘Yes, we know,’ Jane replied. ‘Was a new managing agent appointed after that?’

Mr Hadley paused before admitting that, due to Jason Thorpe being in Australia, it had become difficult to find the right person. He hesitated again, then continued.

‘By this time, it was obvious that the situation at the house was more than problematic. I think Mr Forgham had already succeeded in persuading a number of tenants to leave, but we eventually had to evict two families as the house was no longer heated and the electricity was cut off.’

‘When was this exactly?’ Jane asked.

‘Well, detective, I am going back quite a while... I would estimate that it was five and a half or six years ago.’

Jane jotted down the details. The time frame was exactly what had been concerning her.

‘Mr Hadley, could you tell me who was still living at the house after Mr Forgham died?’

‘No one. It was boarded up and fell into even greater disrepair. Then, eighteen months ago, Jason was given permission by his aunt to sell the property to a developer.’

‘Why is Jason Thorpe registered as the previous owner and not Helena Lanark?’ Jane asked.

‘Jason had lasting power of attorney and was dealing with all her affairs, so it was easier for him to be registered as the owner and deal with the sale of the property.’

‘Excuse my ignorance,’ Jane said, ‘but what does lasting power of attorney mean exactly?’

‘Essentially it gave Jason the legal authority to make financial decisions on Helena Lanark’s behalf.’

Jane thanked Mr Hadley again for his assistance, then asked him to repeat the timings for her, particularly regarding when the last tenant had left the property. She also asked if Mr Forgham had retained the keys after the tenants had left. Mr Hadley was unable to confirm if he had returned the keys, but he said he would fax Mr Thorpe with any further queries Jane had.

By the end of the call with Mr Hadley, Jane was certain that she was right. She needed to have a conversation with Rachit Agarwal: according to the incident board he was one of the last tenants to remain at the property.

Jane put on her coat, which still held the faint smell of the shelter, and made a mental note to have it dry-cleaned.

As she went into the main incident room, she could see that a lot of new information had been added to the board and decided to ask DCI Carter for a full team briefing as soon as she returned from meeting with Mr Agarwal.

She was just passing through the station reception when DS Derek Hunt gestured to her. ‘Could I have a quick word?’ Although Jane knew who he was she had only had a brief conversation with him since her arrival. Derek was an ‘old school’ copper, square-jawed with pockmarked skin, and a First World War haircut. Even though he was approaching retirement, he looked fit and had a strong presence about him.

‘I’m just heading out, Derek, but I need to ask DCI Carter for a full team briefing. I shouldn’t be more than an hour.’

She was surprised when Hunt took her elbow.

‘Do you mind if I have a few words in your shell — like now, love? It’s just that, we all know you’re new here, but if you’ll excuse me giving you a bit of advice, you need to get to know your team. Some of them have done a hell of a lot of leg work tracing some of the tenants, going through all the misper files to try and identify the victim. And there’s been no encouragement from you. As the DI on the team, you need to have your finger on the pulse and speak with the team regularly, so we all know what everyone’s doing.’

Jane was taken aback but instantly knew he was right. ‘Thank you for the advice,’ she said, her cheeks flushing. ‘You can be sure I’ll act on it as soon as I get back to the station.’

It took Jane ten minutes to get to Rachit Agarwal’s small grocery shop on a corner of Stockwell High Street. He and his wife were at the counter, and as soon as Jane introduced herself he became agitated, explaining that he had already been spoken to by a uniformed officer regarding when he had been a tenant at the Stockwell property.

‘If it’s about the rent owing, I don’t know if you are aware, madam, but we were left with no central heating and then they cut off the electricity. I have four children, and to find replacement accommodation was exceedingly difficult.’

‘This is not about the rent,’ Jane quickly explained. ‘Is there somewhere private we can talk? I just have a few questions but it’s nothing to worry about.’

Rachit instantly relaxed, leading Jane to the back room of the shop. ‘We had many problems at this property,’ he began explaining. ‘Mr Forgham could at times be very rude, and aggressive. Of course, I was greatly saddened by what happened to him, but he was really quite unpleasant at times.’

Jane took out her notebook and asked if Rachit could clarify the exact dates he and his family left the property. He said it was very clear in his mind because he had left a week before Mr Forgham was murdered. He was also able to tell Jane that Mr Forgham used to drive a small white Ford Transit van, and he repeated what he had said in his first statement, that no tenant had been allowed down in the basement. As far as he knew there was only one other couple still living at the house when he left.

When asked if he had ever met Jason Thorpe, Rachit said he had met him on a few occasions, as he had visited the house with various builders. He had been told that he was the owner but was instructed that any problems they had concerning their rent should be addressed to Mr Forgham, as Mr Thorpe lived in Australia.

‘If you want my honest opinion, madam, they just wanted to let the house deteriorate and sell it to the highest bidder. You see, it’s a corner property with a large acreage of garden.’

‘But you were never allowed to use the garden?’

Rachit shook his head. ‘There was no gate from the garden to the road, and the access to the garden from the basement was always locked. From our bedroom window it looked like an overgrown mess of weeds and rotting trees. The company had erected a high corrugated-iron fence around the perimeter, so even if you wanted to, nobody could ever get in.’

Jane thanked him for his time and hurried back to the station. She did not even have a moment to unbutton her coat or go into her office as DCI Carter was standing next to the incident board holding up the photograph of Samantha Forgham.

‘Everyone, our victim has been identified. She was the twenty-two-year-old daughter of Brian Forgham.’

Jane folded her coat over her arm and stood at the back of the room. Carter glanced over at her, and was clearly enjoying the fact that he had stolen her thunder, explaining how they had identified their victim through her dental records. He then added, gesturing towards Jane, that with no witness, they could only speculate on what had occurred.

‘We are waiting for a toxicology report on the hair from the victim. This will confirm if she was, as her mother has stated, a heroin addict. As Samantha disappeared on the night of her father’s death, we have to assume that Mr Forgham intended to protect his daughter from her drug dealer boyfriend by holding her captive in the shelter.’

There was a murmur around the room as he finished with a grin, saying that a lot had been accomplished in a very short time and thanking them for all their hard work.

‘We just need to find the last tenant who had occupied the property, inform Brian Forgham’s widow, and then I think it’ll be “case closed”.’

DS Hunt raised his hand. ‘Guv, what are we doing about the second body in the shelter — the little baby? We’re getting our ears burned from all the calls coming in from the demolition company, wanting clearance so they can get on and finish their job.’

Carter shrugged. ‘I’ll have a conversation with forensic, but I think we can give the green light for the demolition work to start up again.’

He hesitated a moment before gesturing to the incident board and the photographs of the mummified baby.

‘We’re at a standstill with this until we have information from the pathologist, but he’s already estimated that the mummified baby is twenty-five to thirty-five years old. So, in all honesty, I doubt that we will be able to spare a full team working on that.’

Jane took a deep breath, trying not to show her humiliation on her face. She’d hardly begun her new job, but already Carter had made her position untenable. She kept her coat over her arm and walked out of the station.