Taste of Blood

Chapter Thirty-Two

Angelica was sitting in a low-backed tweed armchair. Two others, one in orange and another in mustard, were placed around a coffee table. A two-seater sofa in the same green fabric was against a wall with two square, covered tables either side. The fitted carpet and subdued lighting gave the small room, as was intended, an informal peacefulness.

Meryl had brought in a tray with a teapot, milk, sugar and a plate of biscuits. She poured Angelica a mug of tea, and then one for herself. Meryl had found it hard making conversation, both in the patrol car and now in the quiet room. She had not been told any details, so couldn’t tell Angelica why she was being brought to the station, only that DI Tennison had requested her presence but had been called away on an urgent matter.

To Meryl’s surprise, Angelica smiled. ‘She is very nice. We have met a few times, first at the care home. It was a coincidence because I used to live in Clarendon Court, the big old manor house, with my then husband and my son. Long time ago. She was working on a case there, about the neighbours.’

Meryl nodded, sipping her tea. ‘How odd.’

‘We went to a medium together.’

‘Really?’

‘Have you ever been to a medium?’

‘No, I haven’t. I suppose I’m a bit sceptical of palm-reading and fortune-tellers and that sort of thing.’

Angelica shook her head. ‘No, no, mediums do not read your palms. They are able to converse with the dead. Those loved ones who have crossed over to the other side, they come forwards. Where are you from?’

‘Me? Oh, Nottingham originally, but I live here now.’

‘I am from Mexico, and we have each year a wonderful festival of the dead, where we dress up with flowers and skeleton masks, and have dances and music to celebrate the dead.’

There was a light tap on the door and Jane entered. Meryl immediately stood up, but then sat down again as Jane gestured for her to stay.

‘Angelica, I am so sorry to keep you waiting, but I had an urgent situation that required my attention. I would have tried to come to see you rather than have you brought here, but time is of the essence and I needed to see you as soon as possible.’

Jane drew the orange chair closer. Angelica sat back, twisting one of her bangles around her wrist. ‘It’s not good, is it?’

‘No, it isn’t. We recently discovered a guitar in a case. I want you to look at it and see if you recognise it. Can you do that for me?’

‘You think it is Sebastian’s?’

‘I don’t know, Angelica. Can I show it to you?’

‘Yes, of course.’

Jane got up and opened the door. Burrows passed her the guitar case then handed her a pair of latex gloves.

‘Anything come in?’ she asked quietly.

‘Not yet, ma’am.’

She nodded and closed the door. Turning towards Angelica, she carried the case to the coffee table as Meryl moved the tray to one side.

‘I will need you to wear these, please.’

Jane knew instantly that Angelica recognised the case. She eased the surgical gloves on, then stared at the case for a moment before gently patting it.

‘This belonged to my first husband. It used to have stickers over it from his travels. We never removed them. But it is the same.’

‘Can you open it, please?’ Jane asked quietly.

‘Yes, of course.’

The sound of the clasps clicking open felt loud in the room as Angelica gently lifted the lid of the case to reveal the guitar.

‘You can take it out,’ Jane said.

‘Thank you.’

It was painful to watch the way she gently lifted the guitar and held it away from her for a moment before drawing it close.

‘It is called a Gibson guitar, like the one Elvis Presley had. It was his pride and joy. He took it everywhere, and I remember him being worried that they might not allow him to take it on the plane when he went to Mexico. If you have it here, it means he did come back, I was right.’

‘Angelica, are you sure this is Sebastian’s guitar?’

‘Of course. You see the little scuffed area by the first string? That was made when he was a little boy. He cried because he believed he had broken it, too young to understand that you can replace them.’

She slowly turned the guitar over, brushing her gloved hand over a hardly detectable scratch. ‘That scratch was from a buckle on his belt.’

Angelica carefully replaced the guitar in the case, then eased the lid closed, clicking down the clasps. Jane was trying to think what to say that could be of comfort, but before she could speak, Angelica looked directly at her, tears in her eyes.

‘Vera had the taste of blood in her mouth. What more do you have to tell me? Because I think you know where he is.’

Jane stood up, unable to control her emotion as she picked up the guitar case.

‘Forgive me, Angelica, but I am unable to give you any further details right now. You have my promise that I will tell you everything as soon as I can. I will organise a car and Meryl will go home with you. Thank you for agreeing to come.’

She walked out. Burrows was standing just outside the room. ‘I didn’t know whether to interrupt, but you have a call waiting. It’s Paul Lawrence from Lambeth.’

Jane passed him the guitar case. ‘Get that back into the property lock-up and arrange a car for Miss Martinez to go home.’

She hurried into the incident room, where everyone was poised, waiting. Stanley was standing by her desk, the phone in his hand. She almost snatched it from him.

‘Hello Paul, it’s Jane.’

She eased past Stanley to sit at her desk, gathering her notebook and pen. She remained expressionless, making one note after another, before thanking him and asking for the official report to be delivered. She then slowly replaced the phone, knowing she had everyone’s attention.

‘We have a match on the hemp sacking the head was wrapped in. It was cut from the roll removed from Martin Boon’s property.’

There was a loud gasp, but she held up her hand.

‘I’m not finished. We also have a match from a reel of cord removed from Martin Boon’s property with the cord tied around the sack.’

Stanley had returned to his desk, and he now gestured to her. ‘Line two, urgent line two.’

Jane pressed her second line, and this time she wasn’t able to hide her emotion as she listened to the one call she had been hoping and waiting for. When she replaced the receiver, she raised both arms above her head.

‘We have a match on the dental records. Our victim is Sebastian Martinez.’

Stanley and Jane hurried to give DCI Hutton the news.

‘How do you want to work this, Jane?’

‘I want to arrest both Mr and Mrs Larsson and Mr and Mrs Boon on suspicion of murder. I want them kept in separate cells. I think my first interrogation will be with Ellen Boon as I think she will break faster than the others.’

‘How much time do you need to prepare?’ Hutton asked.

‘I’m ready, ma’am. I would like DI Stanley to work alongside me.’

Hutton glanced at her watch. ‘Right, it’s now four fifteen. Let me get the warrant organised and maybe, Jane, you should take a quick break.’

Jane and Stanley left together. He squeezed her elbow. ‘Thanks. Why don’t I arrange a tray of sandwiches, and you and I can have a session before the shit hits the fan.’

‘Great, just need to check something with Meryl.’

‘I think she took Angelica Martinez home.’

‘Right, I promised I would let her know as soon as I had more information. Well, I have it now, but I don’t think I can tell her over the phone. I want to be with her when she discovers the truth.’

‘Thank God you didn’t have a scene like you had with Mrs Larsson over finding her daughter’s ashes.’

Jane shook her head. ‘That woman is evil. She had no grief left, just a twisted need to protect herself.’

‘I’ll go and order the sandwiches. Tea or coffee?’

‘Coffee, and get a flask. I need to check something out, so I won’t be long.’

Jane went into the incident room and found DC Burrows. She went to her desk and took out her notebook, quickly running over her notes of the meeting with Kathleen Bellamy.

‘Bill, can you radio the forensics team at the Larssons’ and tell them to check the patio at the centre of the trellis, where the ivy is not as thickly grown? Also, to check the garden furniture they have stacked to one side.’

‘Yes, ma’am.’

Hutton came out of her office and asked Jane for a quick chat. ‘The arrest warrants are finalised, but I need a couple of lines to feed that local journalist. He’s been tipped off about the forensics tent and the searches of the properties in Clarendon Court.’

Jane pursed her lips. ‘He’s a real pain in the butt. I just don’t want any photographers around when we pick them all up. Let’s just say that police enquiries are still ongoing due to the continued spate of robberies. Maybe just add something about the hostage situation we had. That should send him off in the wrong direction.’

Hutton reached for the phone as Jane paused at the door.

‘Maybe give him a hint that when we do have more to say, he will be the first to know; try and get him onside.’

Jane closed the door quietly behind her as she returned to her desk to select the files she would need for the interviews.

Meryl sat beside Angelica in the patrol car, wondering whether she should try to make conversation or if that would just make things worse. The rain had started as soon as they had driven out of the station, and it was now pelting down, making Meryl think of Angelica’s unstoppable tears. All she could hear was the rain and the sound of the windscreen wipers, until she became aware that Angelica was humming very softly a repetitive tune while staring out of the window. Meryl caught the driver’s eyes in the mirror as he listened too. Then softly, barely audible against the sound of the rain, Angelica began to sing: ‘Love me tender, love me true, all my dreams fulfilled.’

The patrol car drew up outside Angelica’s flat by the row of shops. She turned and touched Meryl’s hand. ‘My son used to sing that to me. Thank you for accompanying me home.’

The driver did not have time to get out and open the passenger door, as Angelica was already stepping out and hurrying towards the steps leading to her flat. The radio crackled, with a request for their ETA back at the station, and he told them they were on their way. As the patrol car pulled out, Meryl looked back to see Angelica standing in the downpour, the rain mingling with her tears.

‘That was Elvis Presley, wasn’t it?’ the driver asked as he put on the siren.

‘I don’t know, but it sounded like a love song,’ she said sadly.

She leaned back in the seat as he put on speed, overtaking the rush-hour traffic. His patrol car was needed for the arrests.