Vanished

Chapter 14

Jack got back to the station shortly after 3 p.m. and headed straight to Ridley to relay the details of his morning and to see if he could sit in on the interview with Terence Jenkins.

Ridley was in his office with the door shut, something he only usually did when he was on the phone or in a meeting. Today, he was seated at his desk just staring at his mobile phone. Jack knocked, opened the door and asked if now was a good time. Ridley put his mobile in his jacket pocket and looked up. He took a moment to find the arms of his chair with his elbows and then said that he was eager to hear how Jack’s morning had gone. He didn’t look eager, but Jack took him at his word.

Jack explained about the three masked men, the nine hours of drugs production, the fact that they had tracked the number plate of the Range Rover but as yet they had nothing on the mysterious suited man who arrived in the Jag. ‘Mal’s sending all of the footage across later and then more daily as it’s sifted through.’ Ridley questioned whether Anik was the right man to be sitting across town with the Drug Squad. Was he capable of making sure that Steve’s team shared everything relevant? ‘No, sir, he’s not. But Mal is. And, from what I’ve seen, so is Josh. I trust them.’

‘Oh, well, if you trust them...’ Ridley stood and moved to the window. Jack didn’t like the sarcasm in his voice. But rather than be annoyed by it, he was simply concerned. Jack waited for Ridley to elaborate on how he was feeling, but he didn’t. Instead, he changed the subject. ‘Terence Jenkins is at his hotel, freshening up. There’s a police car waiting to bring him here by...’ Ridley checked his watch. ‘They should be here now, in fact.’ Ridley took his jacket from the back of his chair and slowly put it on. He looked tired. When he spoke again, his voice was apologetic. ‘Mal’s a good man, you’re right. And if you trust Josh, then so do I.’

Terence Jenkins was a tall, suntanned, elegant-looking man in his sixties. His full head of hair was suspiciously dark and the skin on his face was suspiciously taut compared to that on his neck. But he was from California, where every other building belonged to a plastic surgeon... or so Jack had heard.

Terence sat on a sofa in the soft interview room, opposite Ridley and Jack. They all nursed mugs of proper tea, made from the machine in Ridley’s office.

‘One doesn’t fully value people until one loses them.’ Terence had not picked up any American twang at all during his years in California. ‘Avril could be ghastly. Did you meet her?’ Jack confirmed that he had spoken to Avril on a number of occasions. ‘Then you know what I mean. I think I would have found her amusing if she had been some other poor sod’s sister-in-law.’

Terence was given time to speak freely about Avril, saying whatever came to mind. Eventually, Ridley began guiding the conversation by asking about their upbringing.

‘Freddie and I grew up in Surrey. We never wanted for anything but were taught the value of everything. That’s what happens when your father’s an investment banker. When he died, Freddie, being older, inherited, lock, stock and barrel. No reason other than tradition and yet it was the beginning of the end of us, I’m afraid. Freddie stepped into our father’s rather large shoes, and they were far too big. I told him as much and... money does cause such problems. Anyway, I moved to California. Within five years, I was married with my first child on the way and had a jolly good managerial position in real estate. From that moment on, dear Freddie was always rather angry with me for surviving without him. And he was a shit businessman as it turned out — I’m sure you know more about his investment crash than I do, so I doubt I’m betraying any confidences.’

Terence blew on his tea, then took a sip. ‘Ahh, lovely. American tea is truly offensive.’

Ridley had now got the measure of Terence and the fact that he was not a man to use ten words when he could use fifty. Ridley asked if he could speak more specifically about Avril.

‘When Freddie called to tell me he was marrying, I couldn’t believe he’d found someone who’d have him... such a mean-spirited old bastard he’d grown into. He knew I was in London visiting old friends so, when he suggested meeting up, I agreed. Avril was... common. I, of course, presumed she was after his money. Especially when my brother bragged to me that they’d met in a Soho pub, after he’d been mugged one evening and gone in to use the phone. She bought him a drink whilst he waited for the police to arrive and they... fucked... his word... that very same night. I’m not a prude, but he was an old man! Avril gibbered on about her family: her father was a truck driver and her mother was a housewife. As I understand it, Avril flew their Leeds council nest at a very early age. Anyway, the next time we met was at their wedding.’ A wry smile crept across Terence’s lips. ‘She got inexcusably drunk, and during a slow dance, she cupped my scrotum. I think that’s my fondest memory of dear Avril.’ Jack turned his head away in an endeavour to hide a snigger. Terence saw it and his smile broadened. ‘That’s what I mean when I say I could have liked her if she were some other poor sod’s relative. Anyway, beyond the wedding, it was several years until we all met again. I don’t suppose I could trouble you for another cup of tea, could I?’

The ten-minute comfort break turned into a half-hour phone call between Terence and his wife back in California. Although Ridley and Jack couldn’t hear the other half of the conversation, it was obvious that Terence’s wife was sending him her love and asking for presents from England: she wanted branded bags from all the top London shops, so that she could show off to her friends. She didn’t need anything in the bags.

Back in the soft interview room Terence began again, unprompted, from exactly where he’d left off.

‘There was a time before we lost Freddie — can’t recall the year — when I invited Avril to use my place in California whilst the family and I were on holiday in Florida. To be honest, I didn’t want to leave it empty. Rather surprisingly, she said yes. When we returned from Florida, something told me to send the family out for lunch, whilst I nipped back home ahead of them. Thank goodness for gut instinct! Avril was on my daughter’s lilo in the pool, smoking marijuana with some very unsavoury characters from Santa Monica... as was advertised by their tattoos. I asked everyone to leave, including Avril, but she wouldn’t go. Six months, she stayed. To be honest, she was on her best behaviour the entire time and the kids thought her highly amusing, but... six months!’ Terence’s tone barely concealed hid an undertone of regret.

‘She didn’t want to come home. I think her relationship with my brother had soured. She inferred he had become paranoid — as I said before, he was always a bit twisted — but she said he had been very difficult due to some insurance about a painting. Our father was a consummate art collector, and in reality poor old Freddie would have preferred becoming an artist to running the company. As it turned out he was pretty useless and lost a fortune. I suppose I wish Avril had been an easier woman, then perhaps I would have asked her why she had married him in the first place, but then my own wife pointed out that my brother was very wealthy.’

Ridley asked if Terence had been aware of Avril’s drug use prior to the swimming-pool incident.

‘It was medicinal. I don’t know what for and I didn’t ask. I allowed it in the summer house at the far end of the garden. My wife wasn’t happy because of the children, but she turned a blind eye. For me.’

Jack leant forwards. ‘Terence, do you know if Avril had a child? Before her marriage to your brother.’

‘She insinuated it once. When she was squatting in my house in California. She mentioned that her new life in London was cut short by a “mistake” — she said she’d returned home to Leeds to fix said “mistake”. Actually, when Arnold Hutchinson called to tell me of Freddie’s death, he asked a similar question. He asked if I knew whether Avril had ever been married before. I neither knew nor cared, but apparently Freddie had grown to suspect that there had been a marriage and family in Avril’s past. I never discovered if there had been, and to be honest my brother never bothered to call or write, so I sort of let it go. I most certainly never wanted Avril to visit again.’

Terence quickly stood and brought the interview to an abrupt end. ‘Got to go. I’m Skyping the kids shortly and I want to do it from the top of the Gherkin. My daughter will be green with envy.’ He seemed to suddenly become aware that his demeanour was not that of a man who’d just lost a family member. ‘Avril and I... Avril and anyone really... often clashed. She could be cruel. When Freddie passed, I asked her, through Arnold, if I could collect a few sentimental items. Things from our childhood, collections of paintings dating back to our grandfather’s days. Granted they were of value, but that wasn’t why I wanted them. She never replied and eventually I stopped asking. Anyway, I get it all now, don’t I?’

On the way back to Ridley’s office, he and Jack speculated about the timeframe and the order of events leading up to the establishment of the multi-faceted drugs factory at Avril’s home. The start of the cannabis farm in her greenhouse no doubt aligned with the date of the high utility bill brought to their attention by Arnold Hutchinson. But was it her set-up initially, started to feed her own cannabis habit, or was it the work of the drugs gang? There were too many questions and nowhere near enough answers.

‘Go back to the beginning, Jack. One of the very first questions we asked was who’s Adam Border? Why the hell haven’t we been able to find him? Ordinary people don’t hide like this. Ordinary people have histories, use credit cards, leave paper trails. Therefore, Adam Border isn’t ordinary. So find him.’