Vanished

Chapter 24

Jack and Laura huddled together at the far end of the chapel corridor, whilst Matilda stood at the window watching her husband sketch their dead daughter. ‘You’ve got to get back to the squad room, Jack. Ridley texted when you were in there with Mr Chi. He’s not happy about something. Again! He’s so volatile recently. Anik thinks he’s been dumped, but my guess is the male menopause.’ Jack frowned as though to say she was talking rubbish. ‘It’s a thing!’

Ridley had been Laura’s guilty crush for more than six months. At first, she was frightened of him not feeling the same, then she was frightened of him feeling the same, then she decided that the reality would not match the fantasy and that she loved the thought of him more than anything else. Now she had Josh.

Laura told Jack that he’d better head back, before Ridley came down to the chapel and caused a scene. She’d look after the Chis until they went back to their hotel, then she’d pick up with Interpol. ‘The likes of Hester Mancroft thought Avril could have been married before she met Frederick Jenkins, but even their solicitor doesn’t know for sure. We don’t know if she was married to Andre Boogaard, they could just have had a kid together.’

Jack was about to suggest that Laura make a second visit to Hester, but then decided against it. So far, he’d kept her cannabis oil use out of the investigation and, for now, wanted it to stay that way. Using home-grown cannabis oil was illegal and he might need Hester again, so he wanted her to know that he was someone she could rely on to keep her secret. Instead, Jack suggested that Laura and Anik extend their international enquiries to Germany, as that was a key European country in Josh’s bigger-picture investigation. Laura whispered her ranted reply, so as not to disturb the mourning that was occurring just ten feet away.

‘You’ve got to be shitting me, Jack. How the hell is Adam Border-slash-Boogaard-slash-whatever staying under so many radars? He’s done a uni course, for fuck’s sake. He’s been seen by dozens of neighbours at the Jenkins house, digging and pruning, and driving round in a bloody Porsche. He’s been investigated for B&E, theft and stalking. And we have nothing. No employment or unemployment records, no benefits, medical records, car insurances or parking fines. Adam Border-slash-Boogaard-slash-whatever doesn’t exist. Not here. Not in Amsterdam. And you now want me to look into tracing him in Germany?’ Laura let out a heavy sigh and turned her back. ‘Oh, just piss off back to the squad room.’

Jack smiled and said thank you.

Ridley sat at his desk washing down two tablets with a bottle of water. He waved Jack into his office and told him to close the door. ‘I just received a call from DCI Steve Lewis. He was surprised to see you appear on undercover surveillance footage from the workplace of Jason Marks.’

Jack pursed his lips and the tiny muscles under his eyes twitched. Of course he knew Jason Marks had been followed from Avril Jenkins’ wake, but he didn’t know that he was under constant surveillance. Jack said nothing as Ridley laid into him.

‘He’s a suspect in a dual investigation. We don’t know anything about him yet, he could be vital, and you’re strolling up to his front door and knocking on it. Embarrassing me is one thing, Jack, but embarrassing a DCI from another division can get you removed from this case.’

‘Sir...’

‘Don’t speak!’ Ridley’s shouted instruction cut Jack dead. ‘Lewis is leading an investigation which requires an ongoing agreement to share information. What you did is an infringement of that agreement and jeopardises our position in the case. He can have me removed, Jack. And if I go, you go.’ Ridley sat back in his chair and laced his fingers on his lap. It was now Jack’s turn to speak.

‘Sir, I would never intentionally embarrass you or threaten your position. And if the Drug Squad was sharing information, then we’d have known that Jason Marks was under surveillance. I’m investigating the murders of Avril Jenkins and Jessica Chi. Avril listed a Rossetti painting as being stolen from her home, she accused Jessica of stealing from her and Jessica was seen in possession of a stolen Rossetti. Seeing as Avril and Jessica are both dead, of course I was going to question the only art dealer connected to the case.’ Ridley sat in stony silence as Jack explained in more detail. ‘It could have passed through his hands. He could have it. Or it could have gone up in flames alongside Jessica. I don’t know. But approaching him was a perfectly legitimate step in my investigation.’

Ridley gave a long sigh, turning away from Jack, shaking his head.

Laura stood next to Matilda at the chapel window and they both watched Henrick seated next to Jessica, sketching her face. He looked happily lost in the moment. The image of Jessica that was slowly appearing on Henrick’s sketch pad was astonishingly beautiful and serene. Not dead — just waiting to wake. Like Sleeping Beauty. She possessed a long-gone life, that was clearly coming from Henrick’s memory.

‘He can capture the essence of a person.’ This was the first thing Matilda had said since arriving at the station. ‘It’s more accurate than a photograph. He only has to see a person once and he can see their truth.’

An idea came to Laura. Now all she had to do was find the right moment to ask...

There had been such a long pause that Jack was unsure whether to say something. He was about to when Ridley turned to face him. ‘You have a go at Steve Lewis for not sharing information with us, Jack...’ Ridley stood, throwing his chair back against the wall. ‘Yet why is none of what you just told me about Jason Marks, on that incident board?’ He headed for the corner of his office and started to make himself a cup of ginger tea in an endeavour to calm down. ‘You’re a law unto yourself. Once again! Well, now I’ve got a DCI from Drugs thinking that I’m either in on your insubordination, or not even aware of it. Which makes me look at the very least incompetent.’ Ridley then returned to his desk and stared at the light brown liquid in his cup. ‘This shit tastes like peppered water.’

For a moment, Jack watched Ridley as he blinked rapidly and took in short, sharp breaths.

‘How are things? With you.’ Jack’s question sounded weak in light of what Ridley was going through. Not that Jack actually knew what Ridley was going through, because he was such a private man. Jack didn’t even know what kind of cancer Ridley had been diagnosed with. And he would never ask. Ridley had spoken as much as he was prepared to, and Jack respected that. ‘I’ll get my reports up to date now. I didn’t want to bother you with it because Jason Marks wasn’t there anyway.’

‘You had a go at me for not being there for you, Jack, so don’t have a go at me now for being all over you like a rash. You can’t have it both ways.’

A small smile crept over Jack’s face. ‘I’ll take being dragged over the coals by you above being ignored any day of the week. Sir.’

Ridley pushed the cup of ginger tea away from him across his desk. ‘Make me a coffee. Decaf.’ As Jack flicked the kettle on again, Ridley asked if he’d seen Foxy at the chapel. ‘I’d like to be able to give Mr and Mrs Chi some news on their daughter’s death before they go back to Amsterdam. The fire brigade are now saying that it could have been a leak from one of the gas tanks used to power the infrared heaters. I need to know if it was an accident or murder.’

Jack’s mobile pinged with an image from Laura. He was shocked to see a photo of a sketch of a young man with three words beneath: Meet our ghost. The sketch was frightening. Not only was it instantly recognisable as Adam Border — based on younger photos they already had and on verbal descriptions they’d received from people who’d met him — it also felt like an insight into the man himself, and that’s what made Jack wince. The version of Adam Border on Jack’s mobile screen looked powerful, strong and enigmatic. He also looked hollow — like there was nothing behind his eyes.

The A4 sketch of Adam Border was even more disturbing than the photo Laura had sent through. She had her head cocked to one side as they both looked at the sketch pinned to the evidence board. ‘He’s magnetic. He’s the boy your mum warned you against. If he was in a crowded room, you’d see him first.’

‘Then how is he invisible?’ Jack moved the two photos they already had of Adam Border closer to the sketch: one of him as a teen, from Hester Mancroft; and one of him as an adult, from Jessica Chi. ‘In both photographs he looks like a boy. Henrick’s drawn the man.’

‘Matilda said that Henrick captures a person’s essence. Their truth.’

‘That’s what this is, Laura. The camera does lie: it tells us that Adam is a handsome, wholesome man who parents see as son-in-law material. But this grown man with those unfathomable eyes...’ Jack tapped the sketch with the tip of his finger. ‘This is who we’re looking for.’

Laura had been working on the insurance lists and inventory from Arnold Hutchinson for much of the afternoon. One insurance company had said that they were involved with Frederick Jenkins in the early days, but he was a difficult client to manage because he always thought he knew best. He could buy, insure and sell an item within the space of a month if the market was ripe. He was an avid collector of an eclectic range of works — silver, porcelain, furniture — and his exceptional, ever-expanding knowledge meant that his judgement usually turned out to be right. He was just very tricky to keep up with because he could be so spontaneous. He used to say that the art world moved quickly, so you always had to be ready to move with it, or it would leave you behind. Conversely, when circumstances dictated patience, he had it in spades: many a time he bought up the work of an up-and-coming artist and held on to it until they’d made their name. Due to his constant buying, selling, and disagreeing with advice given, he eventually changed brokers.

The second insurance company also found Frederick Jenkins to be a difficult client as, by then, he knew his trade as well as, or better than, some of the experts. If he felt that a valuation was inaccurate, he’d demand a second or even a third opinion. But he was also a man that insurers wanted to work with because his private collection was so high-end: at his peak he owned a Modigliani, a Rossetti and a Van Gogh.

But the insurance company unlucky enough to be in the Jenkinses’ employ when Frederick died described Avril as being ten times worse to deal with. For months they could not gain access to the private collection and so had no clue what items were still in her possession, and yet she constantly questioned the level of monthly cover she was being quoted. In the end, the insurance company wrote her a letter stating that they could not work with her unless she allowed them access to her home in order to assess whether the current security levels were adequate. Three letters were sent in total, warning Avril that although many of her smaller valuables fell under her contents insurance, her incredibly valuable paintings would not be covered unless she cooperated.

This was why the insured property inventory from Arnold Hutchinson did not match the inventory held by the last company to insure Avril, and that, in turn, did not match the inventory of stolen items she wrote for the Kingston police, making it impossible to discern what Avril had sold, what had been stolen, and what should, in theory, still be in the house.

Jack looked at the mess of insurance and valuation information sitting on Laura’s desk. Laura shrugged. ‘Terence Jenkins has got one hell of a mess to unravel.’

Jack suddenly remembered that he hadn’t written up his notes from his visit to Arnold Hutchinson, so currently he was the only person in the squad room who knew there was a second will. Laura recognised the look on his face and asked what it was that he’d just remembered he’d forgotten. Jack turned, so his back was to Ridley’s office door, then lowered his voice.

‘Before the Chis arrived, I was with Arnold Hutchinson. He mentioned a second will written by Avril Jenkins. If it’s legitimate, it’ll override the first, meaning Terence Jenkins isn’t the beneficiary of her estate.’

Laura’s mouth dropped open. ‘Don’t tell me. Adam Border? Oh, my actual God, Jack. Terence is gonna be so pissed off when he finds out!’

‘He was. He was in with Hutchinson when I arrived. Avril did it online apparently.’

Laura gave a sly look towards Ridley’s office and sniggered at the thought of Jack having to relay news that was now more than five hours old.

‘I’ve not had time, Laura. The Chis arrived, then he distracted me with a bollocking about going to see Jason Marks, who just happens to be a suspect under constant surveillance by Drugs.’

Laura hid her face behind her hand in case he saw her laughing. She suggested that Jack give Hutchinson a quick call to see if he’d found anything out for sure yet about the new Will. Ridley would go a lot easier on him if he went armed with all the answers.

Hutchinson was out of his office, and his secretary refused to divulge where he was due to client confidentiality. Jack had no time to play legal games with her. ‘May, if he’s with Terence Jenkins, say nothing. If he’s verified the authenticity of Avril Jenkins’ new will, say nothing. You see, May,’ Jack was using his best smoky tone, reserved for his more susceptible interviewees, ‘Arnold has already told me everything he knew as of earlier today. What I don’t yet know are the names of the witnesses. Now, he will tell me when I ask, but it’d make my life a lot easier if I didn’t have to wait for him to return. Asking his permission would be nothing more than a formality, as I’m sure you already know. He’s been sharing information at every stage to avoid the need for issuing warrants to obtain it. He’d hate for that to happen simply because he’s out of the office.’

May hesitated and then said quietly, ‘I only know one of the names. Mrs Hester Mancroft.’

Jack left the office and walked to the train station to catch the 3.15 p.m. from London Victoria to Hove. He knew he would get the most from Hester Mancroft by talking to her face to face, and for the sake of a one-hour train ride, Jack was more than happy to travel down to the coast to see her in person.

Hester took an age to walk the length of the hallway. In fact, Jack was sure that she was being slower than the last time he visited. Eventually, he heard bolts slide back. Hester’s face seemed anguished, and her tired, reddened eyes took a moment to focus. The sight of Jack brought a smile, but her brow remained creased from the pain she was clearly in. Jack held up a bottle of gin... and her brow relaxed, ever so slightly.

In the kitchen, Hester sat herself at the table whilst Jack found two glasses, which he rinsed and dried before joining her. Hester watched him pour one large gin, with an equal measure of tonic, and one glass of just tonic. As she sipped on her generous G&T, Jack got straight to the point.

‘I need to ask you, Hester, about the will you witnessed for Avril Jenkins.’ Initially Hester looked blank, but then she recalled that Avril had handed her the back sheet of something and asked her to sign it, which she’d done without asking what it was. Hester said that was about six months ago when she’d gone to London to collect... Her sentence trailed off and she gulped a large mouthful of gin and tonic, which was now nicely numbing the pain from her arthritis. Jack topped up her glass, adding ice and a slice for her this time. She smiled coyly, claiming it was a tad early for her to drink, but that it would be rude not to be sociable after he’d come all this way and brought her such a lovely gift.

‘Hester, the last time I was here, we spoke about the possibility that Avril was already married before meeting Frederick Jenkins.’

‘Oh, yes, well, she could have been. I think if the right man asked her, she’d have just up and done it. Then regretted it, or not, later. Oh! Do you think she was married before Frederick and never divorced? Nothing would surprise me, DS Warr. She rarely did things in the right order. But, as I think I said last time, from what I know of Freddie, he was more concerned with whether or not Avril had a child. Because he was protective about his money, you see. He didn’t want an heir popping up uninvited.’

Hester had not mentioned this the last time at all, but Jack wasn’t going to pick her up on it. She was doing her best to recall events, some of which were long ago. Hester lifted her gin glass halfway to her lips and then laughed, slamming it down onto the table again.

‘She called him a tight-fisted old bastard! Which I thought was deeply unfair considering how quickly she could go through his money. She only had to ask. Range Rovers, jewellery, furs.’ Hester shook her head. ‘Avril never appreciated what she had. Things came too easily, you see. Spoilt. Which is not something often said about a person from the arse end of Leeds.’

Hester dragged the lemon wedge up the inside of her empty glass with her finger and pushed the glass towards Jack. He refilled it for her and topped up his own tonic at the same time. Then he returned to his seat and set Hester off on a new topic. ‘She had a younger brother, David — did you ever get to meet him?’

‘Well, I knew him when we were in Leeds. He was a bit — to use Avril’s words — mentally challenged. He was never at school, was a lot of trouble, I think, and Avril once told me he had been in prison, and was an embarrassment, so she never mentioned him to me again. She could be quite cruel, you know, and I think after she married and had money, she was very protective of her new image so would probably not even acknowledge her brother if she passed him in the street.’

Jack nodded, knowing Avril had never acknowledged Adam as her son. ‘Tell me about the first time Adam Border came to your B&B in Chelsea.’

As Ridley headed upstairs to Raeburn’s office, he expected he’d been summoned to give her an update on his health. It was about that time. Every week, she had to make certain that he was fit enough to be on active duty. Raeburn was the only person who knew the details of Ridley’s illness — that he’d been diagnosed with early-stage prostate cancer and was receiving radiotherapy as an outpatient. She also knew that his prognosis was good, although the ever-present fear during the early stages was that they’d discover it had spread, most likely to his lymphatic system or bones. Neither had happened yet and, as the weeks passed, metastasis became less and less likely.

When Ridley opened Raeburn’s office door, he was surprised to see Steve Lewis standing in the corner casually stirring sugar into his freshly brewed cup of tea.

‘Describing it as a B&B is underselling the establishment,’ Hester snapped. ‘I had to call it that because there are boxes to be ticked to qualify as a hotel and, well, I can’t recall what they were now but... what did you ask me?’ Jack patiently repeated his question, this time without saying ‘B&B’.

‘I expect Adam read my advertisement in the Evening Standard. He was very impressed with what I’d done to the place. He said I had a stylish eye for detail, which I thought was lovely coming from an art student.’ Hester became tearful as she reminisced. ‘I’d used my entire divorce settlement to purchase and convert that house. And Adam was right, it was beautiful. I chose every single piece of furniture, every picture frame, every rug. And I must have single-handedly kept that emporium at the end of the road going for a good few years. I spent so much of my money there. Oh, I loved my time in that house, DS Warr. I imagine it would be triple the value now if I’d been able to maintain it.’ Mentioning the emporium suddenly brought back a memory. ‘That’s where I bumped into Avril again. We had a little catch-up over shopping. My news was that I’d just taken my shit of a husband for everything I could in a divorce, and her news was that she’d just escaped a drunken Irishman. They lived in Dublin together for a while, as I recall. It wasn’t long after that Adam came to stay with me.’

That was the last useful thing she said. Jack’s decision to ply Hester with gin to get her to talk more freely about Avril was now backfiring. All she wanted to do was chat about décor and how she could have studied art if she hadn’t been tied to her bastard husband through her most adventurous years. She became morose and tearful as she recalled having to sell up all her treasures as she got herself into debt, and was forced to lose her lovely house.

Jack made his excuses, thanked her for talking to him, and left her to finish off the bottle of gin by herself.

When Jack got back to the squad room, Laura was putting on her coat. Jack launched into his handover. ‘There’s a connection to Ireland. I need you to trace the movements of Avril Jenkins between—’

‘Whoa! It’s six thirty. I’m going home.’ Jack looked at Laura as though he thought she was slacking ‘I’m happy to help you tomorrow,’ Laura said, picking up her handbag. ‘But just as a reminder, Jack, I’m a DS too. So, try asking me, not telling me.’ She headed for the door. ‘I’m glad Hove was productive. See you bright and early, when I’ll be raring to go... Night, sir.’ Jack spun to see Ridley standing right behind him.

Ridley started the conversation by pointing out that Jack had already got the team running around making enquiries in Amsterdam and Germany... and now Ireland? ‘We’re thin enough on the ground as it is, so you’ll need to convince me it’s a good use of resources.’ Ridley slid his hands into his pockets and perched on the edge of the nearest desk. ‘You’re off for the rest of the week now, right? Step away, Jack. Take the time to enjoy your stag night and your wedding.’

‘Actually, sir, Ireland is this new lead which I—’

‘No,’ Ridley said firmly. ‘Hand it over to Laura tomorrow, as she suggested. You think every new lead will end with Adam Border. Maybe this time it will. Maybe it won’t. But you’re getting married, Jack. The job isn’t that important in the big scheme of things, believe me. Take some leave. A week. Take Maggie on honeymoon.’

Jack didn’t understand where all of this was coming from, but suspected Steve-sodding-Lewis was throwing his weight around again. Something was happening higher up than Ridley and now Jack was being kept out of the loop.