Murder Mile

Chapter Six

Many of the back streets in Soho, and in Marshall Street itself, were strewn with piles of rotting rubbish due to the bin men’s strike. Jane was struggling to find a parking space, but eventually squeezed into a space between overflowing rubbish bags. The stench that filled the air as she made her way to the Samaritans branch reminded her of being at a post-mortem.

After ringing the doorbell, Jane was let into the building and approached a smiling young lady sitting behind a desk.

‘I’m afraid all our volunteer listeners are busy at the moment, but if you’d like to take a seat in the waiting room, I’ll get someone to come and see you as soon as I can.’

Jane took out her warrant card and introduced herself to the young lady, who looked embarrassed.

‘I’d like to speak to the manager, please. It’s police business, not personal.’ Jane smiled.

‘We have a leader on duty — I’ll show you to her office.’

After being shown Jane’s ID, the leader shook her hand and invited her to sit down. She was a portly woman in her mid-fifties.

‘How can I help you, Sergeant Tennison?’

‘Does a Mrs. Sybil Hastings work here?’

‘Yes, but she’s not on duty today. Is she in trouble?’

‘I’m sorry to have to inform you that she’s been murdered. I’m part of the investigating team and we’re trying to piece together her last known movements.’

The leader was very distressed. ‘Sybil? Murdered? Are you sure?’

‘Yes, I’m very sorry. Can you tell me when she was last on duty here, please?’

The leader’s hand shook as she opened a calendar that was on her desk. Flicking through the pages, she stopped and looked up at Jane, her voice trembling with sadness as she spoke.

‘It was last Thursday evening. Sybil did a two to eight p.m. shift.’ She closed the calendar.

‘Do you keep a record of the calls Mrs. Hastings dealt with?’ Jane asked.

‘Yes, the details of all the calls we receive are recorded on a Samaritans call logging sheet.’

‘Could I have a look at them, please?’ Jane asked politely.

The leader shook her head. ‘I’m sorry but it’s Samaritans policy to treat all calls as highly confidential. I understand the seriousness of your investigation, but I’m not at liberty to divulge any information to you — unless you have a court order.’

Jane was disappointed but understood the leader’s position. ‘What was Mrs. Hasting’s role with the Samaritans?’

‘Sybil was a listening volunteer. She took phone calls and had one-to-one meetings with drop-in visitors who needed someone to talk to. Like all our volunteers, she was patient, open-minded and a good listener. As a leader I helped train Sybil. She knew never to discuss her conversations with anyone outside the branch.’ The leader’s eyes welled up as she spoke of her colleague.

‘How long had she been a volunteer?’

‘About eighteen months now. She did a four- or six-hour shift per week, depending on what time of day it was. Every volunteer also commits to one unsociable shift a month — working late at night, or the early hours of the morning.’

‘You mentioned dealing with drop-in visitors. Did Mrs. Hastings see anyone on Thursday?’

‘I’ll need to check the callers log, but as I said, I can’t give you any details if she did. To be honest, we don’t get as many visitors as we do callers.’ The leader stood up and went over to a filing cabinet. She unlocked it and removed a file, which she put down on the desk. Sitting down, she opened the file and removed a few sheets of paper, which were clearly call logs.

‘She had no drop-in meetings that day, but she dealt with several calls.’

Jane asked when Mrs. Hastings had last dealt with a visitor and was told it was just over a week ago.

‘Was it a male or female?’

The leader put the paperwork back into the folder. ‘I’m not supposed to say, but it was a male, aged in his twenties, who didn’t give his name.’

‘Would a Samaritan ever meet up with someone away from the branch?’

‘No, they shouldn’t. But I suppose it’s possible... I’m sorry I’ve not been able to help you much. I would love to give you the information you have asked for, especially if it will help your investigation, but I hope that you can appreciate our rules of confidentiality. What I will do is prepare a folder containing a copy of everything Sybil has dealt with in the last three months. Then, as soon as you have a court order, I’ll hand it over to you. Often callers and visitors don’t give us their names, or they use a false name.’

Jane was frustrated. It was clear that the only way she could get the information she needed was if everything was done by the book.

On her return to Peckham, Jane went to see Moran about her visit to the Samaritans. As she updated him, she thought he looked tired.

‘Shall I get a court order for disclosure of Sybil Hastings’ Samaritans work?’ Jane asked.

‘It sounds as though we could be chasing a dead end if the callers give false names, or none at all.’

‘There are probably a lot of mentally ill people who call them, so her work with the Samaritans might be linked to her murder,’ Jane remarked.

‘There’s lots of “ifs and buts,” Jane. Gibbs will be back from the golf club soon, so hold off on the court order until I’ve spoken with him. In the meantime, go through the completed house-to-house reports for anything that needs following up or might help progress the investigation.’

Jane spoke up. ‘It won’t take me long to get a court order. The Samaritans leader said she’d prepare all the documents relating to Sybil Hastings right away, and that there might be something useful...’

‘I’m the one running this investigation, Tennison! Just do as you’re bloody well told and don’t argue with me,’ Moran barked.

The phone on his desk rang and he picked it up.

‘DCI Moran... I’ve already told you, Fiona, I’m dealing with a double murder and don’t know when I’ll be home... I’m not neglecting you and the baby... I’ll do whatever you need me to do when I get home, but please stop calling me at work.’ Moran put the phone down and sighed, looking crestfallen.

Jane was surprised at Moran’s sudden change in temperament. It was as if he felt guilty about not being there for his wife.

‘Are you OK, sir?’ Jane asked hesitantly.

‘Yes... My wife and I had been trying for children for years and now we have a little boy. He’s our pride and joy, but it’s all a bit of a nightmare. He cries a lot, Fiona is constantly trying to breastfeed him, and he doesn’t sleep well. Poor Fiona is exhausted all the time. I want to be there for her, but I can’t just drop everything and bugger off home every time she rings.’

Jane smiled. ‘It must take its toll on you as well, sir. Maybe DI Gibbs could run the investigation for a few days while you take some time off and—’

Moran frowned. ‘Time off? I’ve got a double murder investigation to run. I’m not having people think I can’t cope.’

Jane realized she’d offended Moran’s male pride and, under the circumstances, thought she should try and be a bit sympathetic.

‘My sister’s just had a baby boy and she and her husband are finding it really difficult as well. My mum says newborns are hard work, but it gets easier. What’s your son’s name?’

‘Arthur. He’s six weeks old now. He’s lovely and we’re so lucky to have him. It’s the shitty nappies I can’t stand. Fiona insists on using the toweling ones instead of disposables — they’re not very absorbent and the poo leaks out the sides. Sorry, Tennison, I’m sure you don’t want to hear all about dirty nappies.’

‘To be honest, having children is not high on my list of priorities...’

Moran smiled. ‘Probably best, if you want a long career and further promotion in the police service.’

Jane didn’t reply. She knew it was rare for a policewoman to return to work after having a child, and many male officers still thought a mother’s place was in the home. As she turned to leave, Moran spoke again.

‘One other thing: DCS Blake is coming over to see me. He’s still pissed off with you and Gibbs about the way in which you handled Andrew Hastings, so you might want to keep out of his way.’

‘Does Blake know Andrew Hastings well?’

Moran nodded. ‘Hastings’ wife told Gibbs they were in the same Masonic lodge and play golf together a lot.’

Jane frowned. ‘So he must know Sybil Hastings as well?’

‘Yes?’

‘Surely there’s a conflict of interest, if Blake is so close to Andrew Hastings and he also knew the victim?’

Moran looked displeased. ‘You should keep your opinions and thoughts to yourself, Tennison. It’s not your place to question the rights and wrongs of Blake’s involvement...’

‘I’m just concerned that Blake’s close relationship with Andrew Hastings might hinder the investigation.’

Moran pointed his finger at Jane and raised his voice. ‘Blake’s a seasoned senior detective and knows what he’s doing. The fact he knows Andrew Hastings might actually help the investigation. If Hastings is involved in any way, Blake is better placed than us to know if he is lying or hiding something.’

‘I didn’t mean anything derogatory, sir, I was just thinking about the investigation—’

Moran interrupted her. ‘Blake is a lot older and wiser than you, so don’t go questioning his relationships with members of the public. As I recall, you screwed up a big Vice Squad operation due to personal feelings towards a young Colombian girl. Then there was that Natalie Wilde woman you befriended, who turned out to be a bloody IRA sleeper. Those incidents totally screwed any chance you ever had of getting on the Flying Squad, and that’s why the Dip Squad didn’t keep you on either. You don’t know how close you were to getting kicked back into uniform — for the rest of your career!’

Jane was shocked at Moran’s verbal attack. She was surprised he even knew about the Regina Hernandez and Natalie Wilde incidences, which had happened nearly three years ago. Even if the phone calls from his wife were making him irritable, Jane felt Moran was being a bit harsh.

‘I know I’ve made mistakes, sir, but I have learnt from them. I’ve never taken people on face value since then, or got emotionally involved in a case. As for coming off the Dip Squad, DCI Church told me at the time he couldn’t keep me on due to financial restrictions and he had to cut his numbers down on the team.’

‘Church lied. He had a soft spot for you and didn’t want to hurt your feelings. If it was me, I’d have told you straight and got you back in uniform directing bloody traffic. Now go and check the house-to-house files.’ His manner made Jane feel even more offended and upset.

Biting back a further comment, she left Moran’s office, closing the door firmly behind her.

As Gibbs drove back to the station, he couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that Andrew Hastings had lied to his wife about where he was on Friday evening. There was a good chance he was seeing another woman, and Gibbs considered the possibility that Andrew Hastings had been involved in his mother’s death, and that maybe the unknown victim was his mistress. It would be interesting to hear what Hastings would say when asked directly by Moran about his whereabouts on Friday evening. If Hastings claimed that he was at the golf dinner, then DCS Blake’s own words, relayed to the major, would prove that he was a liar.

Gibbs smiled to himself at the thought of Andrew Hastings squirming in an interview. He sat back in the driving seat and thought of Jo Hastings. He couldn’t get her out of his mind because he found her incredibly sexy and was certain that she had been coming on to him.

Gibbs stopped at the traffic lights by Camberwell Green. It suddenly struck him that it was strange that Blake hadn’t told Moran he was playing golf with Andrew Hastings on the Friday, or that Hastings had gone home before the dinner because one of his children was unwell. Stranger still was the fact that, as an experienced detective, Blake would know that Hastings would be considered a suspect until he could be eliminated from the inquiry. Therefore his exact movements would be crucially important and would need to be corroborated. As the lights changed to green, Gibbs cut in front of the car beside him and turned right into Denmark Hill, towards King’s College Hospital. It was time Andrew Hastings was confronted about his whereabouts on Friday night.

As Gibbs approached the main hospital reception area, he caught sight of Jo Hastings leaving, on her own. It was clear from the look on her face that she was upset. Although Gibbs called out to her, she didn’t see him and climbed into her Mercedes station wagon. Gibbs ran up to the car door and could see she had been crying.

‘Jo, have you just been to see your husband?’ he asked.

‘Yes. Don’t worry, I didn’t tell him you’d come to the house and I pretended I knew nothing about his mother’s murder. He told me about finding her body, saying how rude and incompetent you and some woman detective were. He also said the body of a younger woman was found near to his mother’s — is that right?’

‘Yes. I didn’t tell you earlier because we’re not sure yet if the two murders are connected or just coincidence. And we haven’t been able to identify the other woman yet.’

‘Please tell me honestly: do you think Andrew was involved?’

‘I need to check out, in more detail, what he was doing on Friday. And obviously he has yet to make a statement,’ Gibbs replied.

Eager to continue their conversation, he suggested that he get into the passenger seat of her car. Jo nodded. Once he was inside she told Gibbs how desperate she was to find out if Andrew was having an affair. She had come to the hospital to try and trick Andrew by telling him she had smelt another woman’s perfume on the shirt he had been wearing on Friday night.

‘What was his reaction?’

‘He was angry. Accused me of having a wild imagination, and saying that I was being very insensitive considering his mother had just been murdered, and that he was still in terrible shock.’

Gibbs thought about telling Jo that Andrew hadn’t been at the golf dinner. He knew she’d find out in the long run, but was worried if he told her now she’d storm back into the hospital and confront her husband, which could ruin the element of surprise in any later interview with him.

Jo shook her head in disgust. ‘I know he’s lying. The idiot gave himself away by suggesting the perfume I smelt had rubbed off from a waitress when she leant over him to serve his meal at the dinner. I told him I wasn’t stupid and didn’t believe him. He told me to ask Blake, as he was with him the whole evening, then changed the subject back to himself. He went on and on about how distraught he was, how he thought he’d had a heart attack and that they were keeping him in for observation. He’s very good at laying on the “poor me” sob story. A few minutes later Blake walks into the room, much to Andrew’s surprise by the look on his face.’

‘What did Blake have to say?’ Gibbs asked.

‘He offered his condolences about Sybil’s death, told us he would be overseeing a thorough investigation and said if there was anything he could do to help, just ask. So I did.’

Gibbs noticed the sly smile on Jo’s face. ‘What did you ask?’

‘I was still convinced Andrew was lying to me, so I asked Blake if he was with Andrew on Friday night. Andrew didn’t look best pleased, but I didn’t care.’

‘It must have come as a shock when Blake told you that Andrew wasn’t at the golf club dinner,’ Gibbs said empathetically.

Jo looked confused. She tilted her head to one side and looked Gibbs in the eye. ‘No...? Blake looked at Andrew, then at me, then said they were on the same table together at the golf club dinner on Friday night and that they both left the clubhouse shortly after twelve thirty p.m. Andrew had a smug look on his face, as if to say “I told you so.” But I’m not stupid. There was something about the way they looked at each other.’

Gibbs took a deep breath. ‘I’m really sorry, Jo, but Andrew is lying. And for some reason so is Blake.’ He filled Jo in about his enquiries at the golf club and recounted how the club secretary, Major Whitehead, had relayed what Blake had told him about Andrew leaving early because one of the kids was unwell.

Jo looked pale and shocked as she took in what Gibbs had said. ‘Why didn’t you tell me this before? If I’d known, I could have gone in there and confronted Andrew. Instead I’ve been made to look a fool by his and Blake’s lies. I’m going to go out and talk to Andrew.’

Jo went to open the car door but Gibbs took hold of her hand. She tried to pull away but he held firmly onto it.

‘Wait a minute, just wait a minute. I only found out when I went to the golf club, which was after I spoke to you. I wasn’t even intending on coming here, but when I discovered Andrew was not at the club dinner, my suspicions about him increased and I wanted to speak to him.’

Jo leant against him. ‘I don’t understand — why is Blake is lying for him?’

Gibbs knew he was on dangerous ground. ‘Maybe he knows Andrew is having an affair, so he deliberately lied to the major about Andrew’s whereabouts.’

Jo was close to tears. ‘It wouldn’t be the first time I suspected him of having an affair.’

‘The fact is, Blake lied to you as well, which means he’s hiding something. God forbid it should be anything about the murders, but whichever way you look at it, we’ve got nobody who can truthfully corroborate your husband’s movements from six p.m. on Friday night until you saw him in bed at around four a.m. the next morning.’

Jo nodded.

‘So, for the time being, Jo, I really need you to keep quiet about what we’ve spoken about. I could get in serious trouble for revealing too much information.’

Jo turned away to stare through the driver’s window. ‘I can’t stand the thought of being near him. I don’t want him in the house. You have to help me. If he killed his mother and that other woman, then who knows what he could do to me and the kids?’

‘We don’t know for certain your husband killed anyone, Jo. Granted, he’s a liar, but as I’ve just said, it could be because he was being unfaithful to you.’

She began to cry and Gibbs put his hand on her arm. ‘I think you and the children should go and stay with your parents for a while.’

‘Their flat only has two bedrooms, one of which is a storage room.’

‘What about a hotel then?’ Gibbs suggested.

‘No, I don’t want to distress the kids by taking them away from home and school. I’ll pack Andrew’s bags, then when he returns home from the hospital I’ll tell him to go and live at his mother’s,’ Jo said firmly.

‘What will you do if he refuses?’

‘He won’t. I’ll make sure of that. If necessary, I’ll get my father to call some of his old Bermondsey mates. Believe me, Andrew won’t argue with them.’

‘Well, if he ends up being charged with anything then he won’t be going anywhere, other than on remand to a prison.’

Jo shook her head. ‘I just can’t make sense of it all... Although Sybil and I didn’t get on, she mollycoddled Andrew and he provided for her every need.’

‘Have you told the children that their grandmother is dead and that their father is in hospital?’

Jo shook her head again. Even though she had despised her mother-in-law, she never stopped Andrew taking the children to see her. Jo was dreading telling them, and was afraid that kicking Andrew out the house would only make matters worse.

Gibbs knew he had said too much. ‘You have to do what you feel is best for you and the children. I’m not going in to speak with Andrew, especially if Blake is still there. I can ring you at home later and let you know what’s happening.’

Jo nodded. ‘I’ll be on my own. They’re keeping Andrew in hospital overnight and the children will be in bed by eight.’

‘I’ll call you later then.’

Gibbs drove back to Peckham and went to Moran’s office to update him on what he’d found out at the golf club, and about Jo Hastings’ visit to her husband in hospital, as well as Blake’s involvement. He had no intention of mentioning any of the more personal conversation he had had with Jo, or the fact that he would be calling her later. He also decided to tell Moran that he had only spoken with Jo Hastings on the phone, as opposed to meeting with her face to face at the hospital.

As he approached Moran’s office, Jane came out, looking red-faced and distraught. Gibbs was about to ask if she was OK but she pushed past him without saying anything and headed towards the stairwell.

‘What’s up with Tennison?’ he asked, as he entered Moran’s office.

‘I had to give her a dressing-down. She tends to open her mouth too often without thinking of the consequences first.’

Gibbs nodded in agreement. ‘Her heart’s in the right place, though, and she’s diligent. Maybe she’s a bit over keen to prove herself as a new DS?’

Moran detected the smell of alcohol on Gibbs and asked if he’d been drinking on duty. Gibbs held his hands up and admitted that he’d had ‘a pint’ of lager at the golf club, purely to be social as the club secretary had offered him a drink.

Moran listened patiently as Gibbs went over the salient bits of his afternoon’s work, making it clear that Andrew Hastings was lying about his whereabouts on Friday evening and early Saturday morning. However, there was no evidence to prove this as yet.

‘Do you trust Jo Hastings?’ Moran asked.

Gibbs nodded. ‘Yes.’

Moran wasn’t convinced. ‘By her own admission, she didn’t like, or get on with, Sybil Hastings, and if she thinks her husband’s having an affair then maybe she’s embellished what was said in the hospital room to implicate Andrew as some form of payback.’

‘If you’re asking whether I think she’s lying, then my answer is no. I got the impression things aren’t good between her and her husband. Admittedly I don’t know them, but it’s glaringly obvious they’re like chalk and cheese — he’s an arrogant, self-opinionated, prick and she’s not,’ Gibbs replied.

‘That doesn’t make him a murderer.’

‘His mother’s death means that he inherits a shed-load of money. Although he already appears to live life in the fast lane, who’s to say his business isn’t going under and he needs more money?’

‘What does Jo Hastings make of Blake?’

‘Same as every woman: a perv with wandering hands. Blake lied to Jo Hastings at the hospital and to the major at the golf club.’

‘I’d think twice about making wild accusations against a senior officer, Gibbs. For all you know, Andrew Hastings could have been with another woman and Blake was covering for him. I know you’re not married, Spence, but you know full well blokes protect each other when it comes to affairs.’

Gibbs shook his head. ‘OK, so Blake may know who Hastings’ bit on the side is. He also knows that those close to a murder victim are considered suspects until the investigation proves otherwise. If everything’s as innocent as you’re suggesting, then why hasn’t he even told you in confidence that Hastings is out of line?’

‘If Blake doesn’t suspect Hastings of anything criminal, what’s there to bloody well tell me, Gibbs?’

‘My gut feeling tells me that Hastings could be our murderer and Blake is hiding something from us. They’re both Freemasons in the same bloody lodge—’

‘That doesn’t mean anything!’ Moran shouted, getting increasingly frustrated with Gibbs.

Gibbs wouldn’t let it go. ‘You know from personal experience that Freemasons protect each other. Hastings might even have something on Blake and is bribing him to lie. It’s also possible the unidentified victim could be Hastings’ mistress—’

‘For Christ’s sake, Spencer, you’re letting your imagination run wild! Or perhaps you had more than one pint at the golf club and can’t think straight. I can understand your suspicions about Andrew Hastings, but you are way out of line suggesting DCS Blake would lie for a murderer.’

Moran had never been a Freemason, nor did he want to be. However, he had been a prosecution witness in 1977 at the Old Bailey where many Met detectives stood trial for serious corruption. During the investigation it emerged that most of the accused officers were Freemasons, and it became referred to by the press as ‘A Firm within a Firm.’ Thirteen detectives were jailed, including two commanders, one chief superintendent and five inspectors. Moran also knew that some officers, who were Masons like Blake, were honest, hardworking and diligent detectives, but Blake’s lies about Andrew Hastings worried him.

Moran’s phone rang and he picked it up. ‘Yes!’ he barked. After listening for a moment, he started to look concerned. ‘I’m sorry, darling, I can’t just drop everything... But if you’re worried, call your mother... I’m going to be at work for some time, but I’ll get home as soon as possible... I promise...’ Moran replaced the receiver, paused, then lifted it off the hook and placed it on the table.

‘The wife giving you earache?’ Gibbs asked.

‘Yes. Apparently little Arthur, whom we’ve now started calling Art, has got croup. At first she thought it was wind, but apparently it’s a cough. You should be thankful you’re single. And don’t you dare suggest I take some time off and you take over the investigation!’

Gibbs was baffled by Moran’s remark. ‘Why would I do that?’

‘Go and type up your report and liaise with Tennison so she can update you about her investigations.’ Moran waved his hand for Gibbs to leave.

‘By the way, did Blake tell you he was going to visit Hastings at the hospital?’

Moran looked annoyed. ‘Blake is our senior officer. He tells us what to do, not what he’s doing!’

‘He’s perverting the course of justice in a murder investigation.’

Moran shook his head in despair. ‘Do you always change the law to suit you, Gibbs? Blake hasn’t even been spoken to, or interviewed by us, so he’s done nothing that interferes with the investigation or perverts the course of fucking justice.’

‘Then you need to ask Blake why he’s lying about Andrew Hastings’ whereabouts on the night in question.’

Moran banged his hand on the desk. ‘Don’t tell me how to run a murder investigation, Gibbs! We don’t even know if both murders are connected. If you think Andrew Hastings is involved, then bring me some hard evidence, not hot air conjecture. I could argue that Jo Hastings has pulled the wool over your eyes. She clearly hated her mother-in-law and would gain from her death. Not to mention that she may well feel inclined to strangle any woman she discovered was having an affair with her husband.’

‘That’s ridiculous!’ Gibbs retorted.

Moran laughed and shook his head with disdain. ‘You’ve only just met her, you know nothing about her, and haven’t even bothered to confirm her movements for that Friday night. Blake has had an unblemished career and though he might be considered by many to be a perv, not one woman has ever made an official complaint against him.’

‘We both know that’s because he’s a senior officer and they’re frightened of losing their jobs.’

‘For Christ’s sake! Why have you and Tennison got it in for Blake? Let it go, or you’ll both be off this investigation. Do I make myself clear?’

Gibbs glowered, but said nothing.

‘I’ll take that as a yes, shall I? Go and write up your notes for the case file and concentrate on identifying the woman in the alleyway. And I don’t want you casting any aspersions about Blake to the team. Just keep what we discussed between us for now.’

In the CID office Gibbs found Jane sitting at her desk, checking the house-to-house folders. From the subdued look on her face he could see she was still upset and asked if she had a minute to have a chat. She followed Gibbs into his office and he shut the door behind her, sitting down at his desk.

‘Don’t let Moran get to you, Jane.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘He told me he gave you a dressing-down about opening your mouth without thinking. If it’s any consolation, he’s just had a pop at me as well. He also noticed that I’d had a pint at the golf club — just to be social, of course.’

Jane raised her eyes at Gibbs. ‘You know Moran doesn’t like drinking on duty. And you smell like you’ve had more than one pint, Spence.’

‘Christ, don’t you start on me as well. Hang on, you’re wondering if I’m back on the bottle, aren’t you?’ Gibbs asked, looking directly into Jane’s eyes.

‘I’m just concerned, Spence. To be honest, you looked a bit hungover this morning at the Hastings flat.’

‘My drinking problem was three years ago, Jane, and you haven’t worked with me since. I spent time in the police nursing home drying out. I do still drink, but just to be social. And I don’t touch spirits anymore. I had a glass of wine with my girlfriend last night and she got a bit frisky, hence me looking a bit tired this morning.’

Jane felt that Gibbs was being honest with her. Since she had worked with him previously, he certainly seemed more confident and at ease with himself, so she decided not to press him about the drinking.

Gibbs continued. ‘Moran had a go at me because I bad-mouthed DCS Blake, even though I felt I had every reason to.’

Jane nodded. ‘Moran had a go at me because I said Blake might not be completely impartial, due to his friendship with Andrew Hastings—’

Gibbs interrupted. ‘There’s a lot more to distrust about Blake than that, Jane. It wouldn’t surprise me if he’s telling Hastings everything about the investigation as we speak. Pull up a chair — I’ll tell you about my enlightening day. But first, fill me in on what you’ve been up to.’

‘There’s not much to tell, really.’ Jane recounted her return visit to Sybil Hastings’ flat with Lawrence, but that they didn’t find anything suspicious. She told Gibbs about her chat with Agnes and her visit to the Samaritans, asking if he thought they should get a court order for the call logs at the Samaritans, in case one of the people Sybil had spoken to or seen may be responsible for her death.

‘I’d put that on hold for now. My guess is that Andrew Hastings is responsible for his mother’s and the unknown victim’s murder. In fact, I suspect the girl in the alley might be his mistress.’

Jane wasn’t convinced. ‘From her calloused hands and the way she was dressed, she doesn’t seem the type Andrew Hastings would mix with.’

‘She could have been on the game. Hastings may have paid her for sex and she threatened to tell his wife,’ Gibbs said with conviction, then proceeded to tell Jane everything he had told Moran about Andrew Hastings and DCS Blake.

Jane was shocked that Blake would lie for a murder suspect, but could see why Gibbs suspected Andrew Hastings may be involved in his mother’s death.

‘I don’t know where Hastings killed them, or why, but my gut tells me he did and I’ll find the evidence to prove it. I just hope Moran has the balls to challenge Blake about what he said to the golf club secretary, and why he lied to Jo Hastings about his “mate” Andrew being with him at the dinner.’

‘What if Moran doesn’t have the balls?’

‘Then I bloody well will. I’m not scared of that tosser Blake. If he lies to us about Hastings, then he’s really up shit creek.’

Jane nodded. ‘Paul Lawrence found Sybil Hastings’ will in a filing cabinet at her flat. She’s left everything to Andrew.’

Gibbs shook his head. ‘I suspected as much. According to his wife, Andrew was his mother’s blue-eyed boy.’

Moran was in his office, mulling over what Gibbs had said and how best to confront Blake, when the phone rang.

‘Nick... Mike Blake here. Just to let you know, I’ve spoken with the hospital and they’ll be releasing Andrew Hastings tomorrow, at about midday. I’ll take him for a spot of lunch and bring him to the station for about half one. We can speak to him together before one of your officers takes his statement. It can’t be Gibbs or Tennison, as I don’t want Andrew being unnecessarily upset. He’s suffered enough as it is.’

‘Have you had a chance to chat to Mr. Hastings about his mother’s death?’

‘No. I saw him at the hospital briefly, but he was still a bit groggy from the sedatives he’d been given. I just offered my condolences and said I’d see him tomorrow, then left.’

Moran knew that if Jo Hastings had told Gibbs the truth about Blake’s visit to the hospital, he was lying yet again. He wanted to ask Blake if he knew what Andrew Hastings was doing on the Friday evening, but Blake ended the call. Moran sat back in his chair, annoyed at his indecision. He knew he’d have to tread delicately where Blake was concerned, as there could be a valid explanation behind his actions. He also knew any unfounded accusation against Blake could be the end of his career as a detective and would scupper any future chance of achieving further promotion. What concerned Moran most was how close Blake was to Andrew Hastings. He wondered if Hastings had some sort of control over Blake, and if he did, that suggested Blake might be a corrupt officer.

Moran felt tired and confused. He desperately needed to work out a strategy about how to deal with Andrew Hastings and ultimately confront DCS Blake about his lies. But he needed to get home to help Fiona. She didn’t seem to be getting over the baby blues and he was worried about her behavior. He wondered whether he should call Fiona’s mother in Norfolk and ask if she would come and stay for a bit. He didn’t particularly relish the idea of his mother-in-law staying, but he really didn’t know what else to do.