Murder Mile

Chapter Fifteen

Jane woke refreshed, which she put down to a mixture of sheer exhaustion and Paul Lawrence’s kind words making her feel more relaxed. After breakfast, she looked through the Yellow Pages and found twelve dental practices in Harley Street, then phoned the office and told Gibbs she was going to make enquiries about Helen Matthews.

It was a cold but sunny morning, and Jane decided to walk from her flat to Harley Street, an area renowned around the world for its high quality private medical and dental clinics and hospitals. Jane walked at a brisk pace and arrived at Harley Street in fifteen minutes. Standing at the north end of the street, she admired the rows of large Georgian townhouses, most of which were now used as clinics, with their beautiful detailing: cast iron balconies, arched doorways and vast first-floor windows. Jane couldn’t help but notice how devoid the street was of rubbish, compared to other parts of London. She saw a man dressed in overalls come out of a building, carrying two bags of rubbish which he threw into the back of a large open-back lorry. She realized that it was a private company who the wealthy residents must have hired to clear their refuse.

The receptionists at the first two clinics told her snootily over the intercom that they’d never heard of Helen Matthews. She was just looking at her list for the next address when she saw DCS Blake coming out of one of the buildings further up the street. She wondered at first if he was on police business, but then noticed he was holding his hand to the side of his mouth, as if he was in pain. He didn’t appear to see her as he got into the passenger seat of an unmarked police Ford Granada, which immediately drove off. Jane wondered how he could afford to be treated in Harley Street, even on a DCS’ pay, and decided to take a look.

She walked up the white marble steps to the large wooden double doors and saw that there were four dentists listed on the plaque. She was about to press the intercom when the door was opened by a woman in a long camel hair coat making her exit, allowing Jane to slip inside. The interior oak-paneled reception hall was even bigger than Jane had imagined, with two large chandeliers, a grey and white marbled floor, and matching wide staircase with oak banisters to the upper floors.

‘Do you have an appointment, madam?’

Jane looked to her left and saw a smartly dressed lady in her early thirties sitting behind a Georgian mahogany desk, partially hidden beneath the stairs. Jane got out her warrant card, introduced herself, and asked if Helen Matthews worked at the surgery as a cleaner.

‘She does, or rather she did. Helen hasn’t turned up for work this week.’

‘Did you hire Miss. Matthews?’

‘No, one of the dentists did.’

‘Which one?’

‘I think it was Mr. Simmonds,’ the receptionist said vaguely.

‘Do you know if he fitted Helen Matthews’ son with braces?’

The receptionist frowned. ‘I doubt that very much. This is a private clinic, not an NHS practice,’ she added dismissively.

Jane took no notice of her superior tone. ‘Can you check the patient cards for me, please? His name is Simon.’

The receptionist huffed as she pushed her chair back, opened one of the filing cabinets behind her and flicked through the ‘M’ files. ‘There’s no Simon Matthews on record.’

Jane realized it was possible Helen Matthews worked as a cleaner at more than one dentist’s in Harley Street, but a gut feeling told her she was in the right place.

‘I’d like to speak with Mr. Simmonds, please, so I’d be grateful if you could tell him I’m here.’

‘I’m afraid he’s busy with patients all day. If you’d like to leave me your contact details, I’ll speak with him later and get back to you.’

Jane decided it was time to bring the receptionist down a peg or two.

‘I’m here on official police business. Mr. Simmonds can decide whether he wants to speak to me, not you. So please kindly inform him I’m here before I do it myself.’

The receptionist went pale, then quickly scuttled off to speak with Mr. Simmonds.

She returned a minute or two later, all her haughtiness gone. ‘Mr. Simmonds said he’ll speak with you as soon as he’s finished with his current patient. The waiting room is to the left of the stairs. Please help yourself to a hot drink and biscuits,’ She added with an ingratiating smile.

Jane’s curiosity got the better of her. ‘As I was walking here, I could have sworn I saw a friend of mine leaving. Michael Blake? Poor chap looked to be in quite a bit of pain, which is probably why he didn’t see me. Is he all right?’ Jane asked in a concerned voice.

The receptionist leant forward and whispered, ‘I’m not supposed to divulge any information about our clients or their treatment, but seeing as he’s a friend of yours... He had an emergency appointment with Mr. Simmonds for terrible toothache.’ She laughed, covering her mouth with her hand. ‘I know it must have been bad as normally he’s quite flirtatious, but today he was in and out without even telling me how gorgeous I looked.’

Jane forced a smile. ‘He’s quite a character is our Michael. Must be expensive, though, being treated here.’ She suspected Blake was taking advantage of his rank getting treatment at a reduced fee, which was against the rules but not uncommon.

‘Any fees for treatment are strictly between the dentist and the patient, of course. Though rates for individual clients can differ,’ the receptionist added with a conspiratorial smile.

Jane nodded. ‘Mum’s the word.’

The waiting room was three times the size of Jane’s lounge, with red velvet curtains, matching Edwardian sofas, armchairs and antique sideboards. Jane poured herself a coffee from a sterling silver pot into a Wedgwood teacup with matching saucer. There were three choices of milk and cream in little silver pourers, and delicate silver tongs for the sugar. She didn’t feel hungry, but the chocolate biscuits looked very tempting. An immaculately dressed couple sat on a sofa by the window, looking as if they were preparing for a night out at the theatre rather than waiting to be seen by the dentist. The woman had a sable coat over her knees and sparkled with gold and diamond jewelry.

Jane put her cup down on the table, beside the neat piles of Tatler, Vogue and Country Life magazines. Deciding those were more suited to the elegant couple on the sofa, she picked up a copy of the British Dental Journal and started flicking through it. The articles seemed mostly technical and rather boring, but one featuring a picture of a handsome, blue-eyed, blond-haired man in a dental coat caught her eye. The subject of the piece was a dentist called David Simmonds, who had been awarded a Certificate of Merit for Outstanding Services to the Dental Profession. Jane thought Simmonds looked familiar, but she couldn’t recall having ever met him. She looked over at the woman with the sable coat.

‘Excuse me, this is my first time here. Do you know if this is the same Mr. Simmonds who works here?’ Jane asked, holding up the picture in the magazine.

The woman smiled graciously. ‘Yes, my dear, it is. He’s a wonderful dentist and exceedingly charitable, too. He does work for the poor people, you know.’

Jane ignored her snobbish remark and started to read the article. Simmonds, she read, was raised in a South London council flat. In the early fifties he passed a scholarship exam for a boys grammar school in Tulse Hill, and when in 1956 the General Dental Council created bursaries for poorer families, Simmonds applied and was accepted to study dentistry at the renowned King’s College Dental School in South London. After qualifying, he applied for a commission in the army as a dentist, was accepted for the Royal Army Dental Corps and posted to a military base in Germany as a lieutenant.

Jane was absorbed by the story of Simmonds’ upward climb, and impressed by what he’d achieved. The receptionist walked into the waiting room and bobbed her head towards Jane.

‘Mr. Simmonds can see you now, Miss Tennison.’

The lady with the sable coat promptly stood up and insisted that she was Mr. Simmonds’ next patient, and didn’t seem at all mollified by the receptionist’s assurance that Miss Tennison would not be long, glaring at Jane as if she’d just tried to steal one of her diamonds.

As they walked up the marble stairs to the first floor, the receptionist apologized for not addressing Jane as Sergeant Tennison, but explained that she didn’t want anyone to know the police were on the premises making enquiries, as it might reflect badly on the dental practice.

Jane forced herself to smile. ‘Oh, I quite understand.’

The receptionist knocked on Mr. Simmonds’ surgery door, and it was opened by a young and very attractive dental assistant. Jane could see a tall blond-haired man in a white medical smock with his back to her, putting some ivory-handled dental implements into an autoclave sterilizer.

‘This is Sergeant Tennison, Mr. Simmonds.’ The receptionist left the room, closely followed by the dental nurse.

Simmonds turned with a smile and put his hand out. ‘Please, call me David.’

Jane shook his hand, noticing he was wearing an expensive gold Rolex watch, and thought he looked younger and even more handsome in the flesh.

‘My receptionist mentioned you were looking for Helen. We’ve been wondering why she suddenly stopped turning up for her cleaning job. Left us in a bit of a pickle, actually. She’s not in any trouble, is she?’

‘I’m sorry to have to tell you, Mr. Simmonds, but Helen’s body was found in an alleyway in Peckham last Friday. I’m afraid she was murdered.’

Simmonds was clearly shocked. ‘Oh my God, that’s terrible! What happened to her?’

‘She was strangled and sexually assaulted.’

Simmonds looked shaken as he sat down on his dental high stool and shook his head in disbelief. ‘I heard something on the radio about the murders in Peckham. There was no mention of Helen’s name.’

‘We only found out who the victim was yesterday when her mother identified her body.’

‘It must be awful losing a daughter like that. What about Simon, Helen’s son? How is he?’

‘He’s with his grandmother. I don’t think he fully understands what has happened yet.’

‘That poor boy. Please tell Helen’s mother how sorry I am for her loss, and if there’s anything I can do for her or Simon to contact me.’

‘Of course. I’m sure Mrs. Matthews will appreciate your kind words and offer of assistance. I believe you fitted Simon with braces?’

‘Yes, about four weeks ago. Helen told me some of the kids at school teased Simon about his “goofy teeth.” She asked if I could give her any advice on what to do... about his teeth, that is, not the bullying. Helen brought Simon to the clinic and, after examining him, I told her braces would solve the problem.’

Jane found herself warming to Simmonds. ‘I believe you did the work for free?’

‘Yes. I knew Helen couldn’t afford it, and probably struggled to make ends meet as a single parent, so I wanted to help her out.’

Jane was curious. ‘I spoke with your receptionist about Simon. She checked the dental files and there was no record of him having treatment here.’

Simmonds smiled and nodded. ‘That’s right. To be honest, I did the work on Simon out of hours and didn’t keep a record. I was worried the other dentists in the practice might be upset if they found out I was doing dental work for free.’

‘How long had Helen Matthews worked here?’

Simmonds paused. ‘About ten months. I was socializing with a colleague who was moving to York. I mentioned I was looking for a cleaner and he recommended Helen. I got her in on a trial basis, but she was very thorough, so I hired her. In fact, she was the best cleaner we’ve ever had.’

‘Can you recall when you last saw her?’

Again, Simmonds thought. ‘To be honest, no, other than one evening a week or so ago when she brought Simon in for a braces check-up. Helen’s hours here were generally ten a.m. to two p.m. and I would be dealing with patients, so I saw her only rarely. The treatment rooms are cleaned by the dental auxiliaries, as the equipment is very expensive and there are anesthetic drugs stored there. Helen cleaned all the other areas and my flat on the top floor. She also did some ironing for me, so I’d leave her wages in an envelope on the living room table.’

‘Would you happen to know where else Helen worked as a cleaner?’

‘I’m sorry, I don’t.’

‘Could you give me the name of the colleague who recommended her?’

‘Peter Brown. I’ve got his York number in my flat. I can call him and ask if he knew where else Helen worked.’

‘That would be helpful, thank you,’ Jane said, and Simmonds started to walk towards the door.

‘It’s OK, you don’t have to do it right now,’ she assured him. ‘I’ll give you my work number and you can ring me at the office if he’s able to help. Have you ever heard the names Aiden Lang or Ben Smith? Perhaps Helen Matthews mentioned them to you?’

Simmonds thought about it for a second. ‘No. Are they friends of hers?’

Jane handed him a picture of Aiden Lang. ‘Smith is an alias used by this man. His real name’s Aiden Lang.’

Simmonds looked closely at the picture. ‘No, he doesn’t look familiar. Is he a suspect?’

‘We believe he may be responsible for the murder of Helen and two other women.’

Simmonds shook his head sadly. ‘He looks so young. Would you like me to show the other dentists this photograph?’

‘There’s no need for now,’ Jane said, and he handed her back the photo. ‘But thank you for your time and your assistance.’

‘Would you be kind enough to let me know the details of Helen’s funeral, please? I would like to attend and pay my respects.’

‘It may be quite a few weeks yet before the coroner releases her body for burial. But as soon as I know, I’ll be in touch.’

On her way out, Jane popped into the waiting room and picked up the dental journal she had been reading.

‘Would it be all right if I took this?’ she asked the receptionist.

‘I’m sure that would be fine. We have a couple of copies, I think.’

As Jane rolled up the journal and slipped it into her coat pocket, the receptionist leant forward and spoke in a whisper. ‘If you’re still looking for Helen Matthews and she turns up here, should I phone nine-nine-nine?’

‘I’m sorry to tell you that Helen Matthews has been murdered. I’ve been trying to find out where else she worked.’

The receptionist gasped, put her hand to her mouth and rocked backwards on her chair.

‘Do you know where else Helen worked as a cleaner?’ Jane asked.

‘No. I didn’t really know her and we rarely spoke.’

Jane pulled out the picture of Aiden Lang. ‘Have you ever seen this man before?’

The receptionist took her time studying the photograph. ‘He looks familiar... Has he got a tooth missing?’

Jane felt a little surge of adrenalin. ‘You know him?’

‘Not personally, no, and he’s not a patient here. But working as a dental receptionist has made me notice people’s teeth more. I can’t be sure, but a week or so ago I left the clinic and it wasn’t until I got to Oxford Circus tube station that I realized I’d left my purse in the reception desk drawer. I had to walk all the way back to the clinic and I saw a young man, like the one in the picture, standing by a car outside the clinic. He looked at me and I said, “Good evening.” He smiled and nodded. I noticed he had a tooth missing here.’ She pointed to the right side of her mouth. ‘When I came back out a few seconds later he was still there by the car, talking to the driver who had his window open.’

‘Can you remember what color his hair was and what he was wearing?’

‘Let me see... He had a dark jacket on with the hood up over his head, so I couldn’t see what color his hair was, and I’m not sure about his trousers, but they might have been flares. He seemed quite smart.’

‘What time was this?’

‘Well, I left work at just after six p.m. It’s ten or so minutes to Oxford Circus. I realized I’d forgotten my purse and turned back. That’s another ten minutes, so it must have been about six thirty.’

Jane nodded, eager to get more details. ‘What about the car? Can you remember the make or color?’

‘Definitely dark, and it was big. It might have been a Mercedes like Mr. Simmonds has.’

‘What did the driver look like?’

‘Well, it wasn’t Mr. Simmonds. He was white and looked older than the young man in the coat. I didn’t really get a good look at him.’

‘Can you remember what day it was?’

‘No, but it was either the beginning of last week or the end of the week before.’

‘Would you recognize either of the men again?’ Jane asked, desperately hoping for a positive answer.

‘Maybe the younger one with the missing tooth.’

‘Thank you.’ Jane wasn’t sure how this new information could help the investigation, but she was keen to get back to the station and share it with Moran.