Dark Rooms

Chapter Five

Arriving home, Jane was about to put her key into the lock when the door opened.

‘Hi, I was just leaving, but I’m glad to be able to have a chat as we’ve made a lot of progress today.’

Eddie stepped aside for her to come in. Jane could see that the floorboards were in place again, but the carpet was still rolled back.

‘You actually have pretty good floorboards,’ Eddie went on, ‘and your carpet is worn and stained. You might think about having the floorboards in the hallway sanded as it would give a much more modern feel and make it look a bit larger, especially if you continue it into the kitchen.’

Jane was taken aback. ‘Gosh, I’m sure you’re right, but I can’t really even think about that right now.’ She hung up her coat on the coat stand.

Eddie led her into the kitchen where there had been a great improvement. Tiles had been put up behind her sink unit, everything was plumbed in, her fridge freezer was installed, and Eddie pointed out the new plug sockets.

Jane put her briefcase down on the table and smiled. ‘It looks terrific... thank you.’

Eddie smiled. ‘I have a few new estimates from Archie regarding the bathroom and he’s left a lot of leaflets for you to look over and decide what you would like him to do.’

Jane sighed and pulled out a chair.

‘Do you want me to take a look over the electrics upstairs? Also, Archie reckoned you could do with a new boiler?’

Jane sighed. ‘Oh goodness, I’ve not had time to even think about that. Maybe I should just settle up with you both for the work done to date and then have a meeting about the other stuff — though I did leave a note to say that my bath leaked last night.’

‘Yes, I know. Archie took a look and replaced a pipe that was the obvious cause, but you do have a very damp area beneath the bath, and he reckoned you would be better to get the carpet out and have some tiles or hard flooring put down.’

Jane nodded as she sifted through the invoices, then opened her briefcase and took out her cheque book.

‘Please, sit down,’ she said, as she began to make out the cheques.

Eddie sat down opposite her. ‘I have a few jobs lined up, as I said to you yesterday, but I can make time late afternoon or early evening if you want me to check upstairs. I think Archie is available in a couple of weeks, but he’s gone over to do a new build for a couple expecting their first baby.’

Jane passed Eddie his cheque and then put Archie’s into an envelope. ‘Shall I post this, or can you give it to him?’

‘Post it — I might not see him for a few days.’

Jane added the address from the invoice and slipped it into her briefcase to post in the morning.

‘Well, thank you for staying. I promise I will give all your suggestions a lot of thought.’

‘Good, but you won’t want to be sanding floorboards if you’re redecorating. It’s best to get them done first ’cos the sanding creates a lot of dust.’

‘Oh right, yes, of course.’

‘What you do is rent the sanding machine...’

Jane frowned. ‘What? Oh, yes... I’m sorry, I can’t really think about it right now. I’ve had one of those days at work and I haven’t quite got the energy to focus on anything else.’

She was annoyed with herself for losing control in front of Eddie, as she felt close to tears. Eddie stood as if to leave, but hesitated.

‘Do you want to talk about it?’

‘What?’

‘Sometimes it’s good to get stuff off your chest... means it doesn’t get on top of you.’

‘Well, I think it’s already got on top of me,’ Jane admitted. ‘And on literally my second day I think I have already rubbed my boss up the wrong way. I was given a bit of a lecture... it sounds stupid, but I felt that I had made great headway only to feel humiliated by him. It’s just hard for me to get my head around it. I mean, I didn’t want any praise, but I had succeeded in making major steps forwards. But you have to go by the rule book and God forbid you use your own initiative... you’re considered not to be a team player.’

Eddie just nodded sympathetically, having no idea what she was talking about, but when she suggested they have a vodka tonic he accepted, allowing him to demonstrate the new ice box in her fridge. She fetched the bottle of vodka, and he opened the bottle of tonic.

‘You need to do a grocery shop,’ he said, closing the door of the empty fridge.

‘I know, I know... it’s just something else I can’t think about at the moment. This case I’m working on has really taken precedence over everything else. In all honesty, it’s the last thing I wanted to have to deal with after my previous investigation.’

Eddie poured two large vodka tonics and sat down opposite Jane. She let out a long sigh.

‘Thank you... this is just what I needed. Cheers!’

‘I find it easy working alongside my dad,’ Eddie said. ‘Although he can be a pain in the arse sometimes. But being my own boss is what I like best. When I was starting out at my first job with a big company I used to get run ragged, but Dad insisted I get the best training and qualifications because in a few years he’ll be retiring. Then I’ll have my own company — and I’m planning on getting a good team of blokes — people like Archie, plus maybe a carpenter... make it a tight little business.’

Jane took another long sip of her drink. It was always the same. When people asked if you want to talk about something that’s bothering you, they ended up doing all the talking themselves. But maybe that was what she needed.

‘Are you married?’ she asked Eddie, abruptly changing the subject.

‘Me? No way! I’ve only just bought my flat and I want a few quid in the bank before I commit myself.’

‘Play the field, do you?’ Jane asked.

He laughed, sounding embarrassed.

They had both almost finished their drinks and Eddie pushed his chair back as if to leave.

‘Let’s have another one,’ she said, already feeling less anxious and rather enjoying his company. He was not like any of the officers she knew, or any of her previous lovers. There was an innocence to him, or perhaps it was just honesty.

‘I shouldn’t really ’cos I’m driving. But let me fix you one and I’ll just have a tonic.’

He stood at the fridge extracting some more ice cubes and asked about her last investigation. Jane dismissed it, saying that it was a long, tedious inquiry into the discovery of a nun’s body that had been found when a convent had been converted into luxury flats.

‘Been there a long time, had it?’ he asked, handing her the replenished glass.

‘Yes, three decades. So I was brought onto this new case because I’m now the expert. Only this time the victim’s only been dead for five years. Anyway, we think we’ve identified her.’

Eddie seemed genuinely interested, asking how they went about the process of identification. Jane explained about dental records and then how their inquiries had led them to the conclusion that the victim had been chained and left in an old air-raid shelter. Jane had not intended going into such lengthy details or bringing up the tragic discovery of the mummified baby, but Eddie listened so attentively that it all just seemed to come out.

‘Blimey — no wonder you were feeling a bit down when you got home,’ Eddie said finally. ‘Me, I finish the job, go home and sleep like a baby. But people like you dealing with all this terrible stuff every day must have a hard time putting it out of your mind at the end of the day.’

‘Yes, sometimes it is hard, Eddie,’ Jane agreed.

‘Well, I’d better be getting home,’ he said, putting on his leather jacket.

‘OK, thanks for listening,’ Jane said. ‘I’ll be in touch very soon to discuss the rewiring upstairs. And I’ll also contact Archie after I’ve made a decision about the bathroom.’

‘OK... I’ll wait to hear from you. Thanks for the drink.’

Jane remained sitting at the table as he let himself out, having left the spare key she had given him on the kitchen draining board. She poured the last of the tonic water into her glass and topped it up with vodka. She walked slightly unsteadily up the stairs to her bedroom before flopping down onto her bed. She wasn’t thinking about Samantha Forgham or the mummified baby anymore, but how soon she could get Eddie to begin work.

The following morning Jane needed two strong black coffees and a couple of Paracetamol before she could function, but she still managed to get herself to the station by a quarter past eight, as the rest of the team began to come on duty. She was relieved to discover that DCI Carter was due in court on an existing case, so wouldn’t be in his office.

Jane asked Detective Sergeant Hunt to make sure the team was ready for a briefing and by nine o’clock the room was filled with all the officers connected to the investigation. Jane stood waiting, trying not to show her nervousness as they all waited expectantly. She gave a slight cough and licked her lips.

‘I feel I should properly introduce myself to you all, perhaps rather belatedly. I am Detective Inspector Jane Tennison. Although we’ve been working towards the same result, we’ve all been allocated various assignments meaning that I’ve not had time to get to know you. I want to congratulate everyone on what we have accomplished so far, particularly given the difficulty in tracing all the previous tenants of the property and everything to do with the demolition. I know we’ve been able to have a conversation with Rachit Agrawal and through him we’ve learned that he believed the eviction of nearly all the tenants had been accomplished by mid-August 1980. There was a married couple that had occupied the middle-floor flat, Mr and Mrs Abdul and their two children, but he thought that maybe they weren’t evicted until after Brian Forgham’s murder. That would mean this couple was in residence and might possibly have information regarding Samantha Forgham. I’m aware that we have so far been unable to trace the Abdul family and the search is ongoing, so please, make this a priority. Brian Forgham was hired by Jason Thorpe who was registered as the previous owner of the property. However, I have subsequently discovered that Mr Thorpe had been granted power of attorney by his aunt Miss Helena Lanark, and that in reality she owned the property, though Mr Thorpe dealt with the sale.’

Jane waited as the team took notes. DS Hunt raised his hand and asked if Mrs Forgham had been formally told that they now had a match for the dental records of their victim, confirming it was her daughter. Jane looked at the investigation board showing Mrs Forgham’s details from her interview. She felt that Hunt should be the one to relay this news.

‘Detective Sergeant, I’d like you to go and see Mrs Forgham accompanied by a female officer. Ask her about the white Transit van owned by her husband, which I believe was sold four years ago.’

There was a murmur around the room and Jane waited for it to go silent.

‘We need to ascertain if there is any evidence still contained in the Transit van. I also think we should ask Mrs Forgham if we can search her property.’

Jane pointed to the photographs taken at the site, showing the iron chain and leg cuff bolted to the floor.

‘This is not standard issue or sold in hardware stores, so it would be good if we had some clue as to where it came from. It is still just a supposition that Brian Forgham was the only person who knew where his daughter was.’

Again, Hunt raised his hand. ‘Ma’am, do we know if the demolition company are back at work? I believe DCI Carter was getting ready to give them permission.’

Jane nodded. ‘I’ve received a memo from DCI Carter stating that he had given permission for work to continue on the house itself, but they were to cordon off the shelter until forensics and everyone else were satisfied no further evidence would be forthcoming.’

Jane then smiled broadly and said she had brought in a large box of pastries that she hoped they would all enjoy with their coffee.

As Jane stepped into her office, feeling that she had now at least made them all aware of her presence, her desk phone rang. It was the duty sergeant calling to say that Rachit Agrawal was in reception and was asking to speak to her. Jane immediately went to the front desk and as soon as Rachit saw her, he got to his feet.

‘You must excuse me coming here because it is possible I am wasting your time, but this morning my eldest daughter told me there is a new girl in her class who she remembered, because they had lived in the flat above them. Her name is Renata Singh.’

Jane looked puzzled. ‘I thought the tenant’s surname was Abdul.’

He shrugged. ‘All I am saying is my daughter remembers her. If they changed their name, I don’t know. I thought as a good citizen I should inform you.’

Jane thanked him and took down the name and address of the school, then hurried back to the incident room. DC Taylor was at his desk typing when she asked him to contact St Mary’s Secondary School and ask about a pupil called Renata Singh. She was a new pupil and they needed to confirm her family’s name and address.

Overhearing, Barbara got up from her desk. ‘That school is literally five minutes away.’

Jane glanced at her. She was eating a jam puff pastry. ‘Thank you, Barbara. Perhaps, Tim, to avoid delay, you should just take yourself there. We need to verify that this young girl, Renata Singh, lived at the property and had a previous surname of Abdul.’

Jane was now on her way to another high-rise estate. Tim Taylor had quickly been able to confirm that Renata Singh was the youngest daughter of Mrs Omala Singh, and she had two siblings aged fifteen and sixteen.

The headmistress had no information regarding whether Renata and her family had previously been in residence at the Stockwell property, but she was able to tell Tim that they had only moved into their present council flat two months earlier. She could not supply a contact number and Jane had no option but to go and visit Mrs Singh in person.

The high-rise estate was in surprisingly good condition and looked to Jane as if it had been built in the sixties. Even the lift was working, which was a blessing given that Mrs Singh occupied a flat on the eighth floor. Jane was impressed at the cleanliness of the communal corridor and flat 862 appeared to have a freshly painted front door and a new door mat. The doorbell also looked as if it had been recently installed and after ringing it Jane only had to wait a moment before the door was opened by an Asian woman.

‘I’m DI Tennison,’ Jane said, showing her identification. ‘Are you Mrs Singh?’

The woman nodded nervously.

‘I’m working out of Stockwell police station and need to ask you a few questions regarding a property I believe you previously lived in which is now being demolished.’

Mrs Singh ushered Jane into the flat. She was very attractive and wore her long dark hair in a braid reaching to her waist. It was hard to determine her age, but there were grey strands intertwined with her black hair. She was wearing Western clothes and had heavy makeup with a dark eye liner.

‘I assure you it’s nothing to worry about,’ Jane reassured her, ‘and nothing to do with your children. I just want to ask a few questions about your tenancy at the property, and to confirm whether your surname was previously Abdul.’

The mention of the name seemed to make Mrs Singh shudder.

‘He was my husband,’ Mrs Singh said, coldly.

‘Is there somewhere we can sit down?’ Jane asked.

Mrs Singh led her into a small but brightly decorated living room with a sofa and a single armchair. Jane sat on the sofa and waited for Mrs Singh to take the armchair.

‘I have nothing to say about that man,’ Mrs Singh said. ‘My life has changed, and whatever criminal act he has been involved with... I no longer have any association with him and have not seen him for over four years.’

Mrs Singh pursed her lips and looked as if she had nothing more to say, but with patient encouragement from Jane she gradually opened up, explaining that her husband had been unable to pay the rent for many months and had been equally unable to provide for his family. At that time she had had three young children, but any benefits they received had been frittered away by her husband on gambling and drink. Mrs Singh was almost in tears as she explained there was often little food for her children.

Mrs Singh seemed relieved when Jane steered the conversation around to Brian Forgham. In contrast to what Rachit Agrawal had said, Mrs Singh described Forgham as being very kind. Even though they had major rent arrears he was always polite, and at one time he had even bought them some bread and cheese. He had also been exceedingly helpful with repairs and had appeared to be distressed when the company had turned off the central heating in the building.

‘We had no running water or heating for many months, but we had nowhere else to go. My husband was unable to get work... and then he simply disappeared. Apparently, he went to Birmingham in the hope of getting work, but I knew he had deserted us.’

Jane remained patient as Mrs Singh became more emotional — and then broke down in tears when Jane mentioned Brian Forgham’s murder.

‘It was terrible... we were so sad. As I’ve already said, he was a kind man, but he was put in a very difficult position as everyone was being evicted and the house was going to rack and ruin. After Mr Forgham died, there was another man who took over who was terrible. He came and threatened me and the children. We thought he had been hired to replace Mr Forgham, but in the end we found out who he really was. He was the owner of the flats and such an obnoxious young man. He told us that if we didn’t leave, he would have our possessions thrown out into the street...’

Mrs Singh started sobbing, then plucked a handful of tissues from a box on the table beside her. Once she had composed herself, she went on to explain that the council had rehoused them in a dreadful place for several months, then they had moved from one terrible rental to another until they eventually found this flat.

Jane thanked Mrs Singh profusely, telling her how helpful she had been and reassuring her that she just needed to ask a few more quick questions regarding the time when Brian Forgham had been murdered. Mrs Singh closed her eyes.

‘I remember it was a very cold night in September. I think he had been at the house because my daughter remembered the door to the basement was open, and nobody was allowed into the basement. That was where Mr Forgham did repair work, and kept all the paints and maintenance tools, but it was always locked.’

Jane nodded. ‘And apparently no one was allowed in the garden either?’

‘Yes, that’s correct. It was the only time he would become assertive, if anyone even asked to use the garden. I had three young children who would have loved to play there but there was a large, corrugated-iron fence, so you couldn’t get in even if you were allowed to.’

‘Mrs Singh, after Mr Forgham died, how long did you stay in the flat before you were evicted?’

‘I think it must have been early December... everyone else had left It was very cold... very, very cold.’

‘Did you at any time see anyone going into the basement? Or did you see anyone in the garden?’ Jane asked.

Mrs Singh shook her head. ‘No. We saw no one. But I do remember that we thought an animal might have been trapped in the garden.’

‘An animal?’ Jane asked.

‘Yes, a cat maybe? We thought we heard a cat meowing. It went on for some time. But, as I said, we couldn’t go into the garden, and we couldn’t get into the basement... and then we were evicted.’

‘And then?’ Jane asked.

Mrs Singh shrugged. ‘I got divorced and my cousin introduced me to my present husband.’

Jane walked into the incident room and stared at all the names and addresses on the board. DS Hunt joined her.

‘We found the last tenant in the Stockwell house,’ Jane said.

‘Anything positive?’ Hunt asked.

‘Not really, just that they heard what sounded like a cat meowing for days. It could have been Samantha, chained up in the shelter, but that’s basically all I got. No one saw Forgham taking her into the basement, just the awful sounds of the crying.’

Sergeant Hunt nodded. ‘Well, Samantha’s mother did cry, eventually. I have to say that I’ve never, in all my career, seen a mother show such a lack of emotion when they’ve received such wretched news; in fact, at one point, she pursed her lips as if she thought it served her daughter right. Anyway, the other good news, if you can call it that, is she allowed us access to her husband’s box room where he worked. There were filing cabinets full of old invoices, a few cans of paint, tiles, stuff he used for the maintenance of the property — and an old toolbox containing items he would have used for his work. But we also found two padlocks, various chains and a set of handcuffs. Apparently, our Mr Forgham used them when he was in the army as an MP. I believe we’ll be able to match the padlock and even some of the chains to those found at the shelter.’

Jane nodded. ‘Good. Good work.’

Hunt sighed. ‘Yeah, doesn’t feel like it, though. We have no other suspects, so I think as DCI Carter suggested, it’s case closed.’ He turned and looked at the photographs on the incident board, nodding towards the large black-and-white crime scene photographs of the mummified baby.

‘Well, we know for sure that wasn’t Samantha’s.’

By an awful coincidence, at that very moment Jane received a call from the pathologist examining the mummified child, telling her that he had been able to determine that the child had been buried alive. This was due to the discovery of fine wool fibres in the infant’s nasal passages and lungs. Further details would be forwarded.

Jane closed her eyes. She recalled her feelings on her previous case, when the nun’s coffin was opened. The scratch marks on the underside of the coffin lid indicated that the poor woman had been buried alive and had been frantically trying to escape.

Jane had persisted in hunting down the nun’s killer, even though it had been a long and exhausting process. She had been determined to get justice and she knew now that, no matter what DCI Carter said, she would also get justice for this tiny newborn child.