Vanished

Chapter 31

Jack wore a smart suit and tie and sat in the soft interview room at Hammersmith nick. It was bigger than theirs, but not as nicely decorated, and the camera which would be used to record the interview was on a tripod at the end of the sofa rather than being hidden behind a two-way mirror.

DC Lyle wore thin wire-rimmed glasses that made the lenses seem as though they were floating on his face. He looked smart, fresh-faced and trustworthy — but the tiny beads of sweat on his baby-smooth upper lip gave away that he was nervous. Lyle brought no complimentary hot drinks into the soft interview room, nor did he offer to get any sent in. In front of him was a thin file, a notebook and a pen. He poured two glasses of water from the jug on the table between them, and then jumped straight into the interview by asking Jack to describe his relationship with Tania Wetlock.

‘Relationship isn’t the correct word,’ Jack replied evenly. ‘Tania Wetlock was the daughter of Elliot Wetlock, who works at the same hospital as my wife, Maggie.’ Jack’s own words made him pause. This was the first time he’d described Maggie as his wife. And the moment was horribly tainted by the fact that he was being interviewed in connection to the suspicious death of a teenager. ‘Elliot Wetlock claimed to be worried about her. He thought she was being led astray by a talent scout, whose identity I never discovered. He’d tried to send her to therapists, but she wouldn’t comply. He wanted a female police officer to speak with Tania in the hope of... I don’t know... there’s no mother on the scene and Wetlock seemed out of his depth.’

‘So, you asked DS Laura Wade to speak with her...’ Lyle opened the file he’d brought in with him and pulled out a single-sided A4 piece of paper, indicating that he had already spoken to Laura. ‘Off the books?’

‘I didn’t know if there was anything to investigate. In hindsight, I should have told Wetlock to go through the proper channels.’ Jack didn’t apologise for his decision. It was the least of his worries. ‘Tania came to my home twice. Both times uninvited and unwelcome.’

‘But you let her in on each occasion?’

‘She was intoxicated, and in my opinion she was also high. My decision to let her in was more about not wanting to leave her wandering the streets alone. She was vulnerable.’

‘Let’s talk about the first time she visited you, Jack. Tell me everything you can recall.’ Jack could see that the file in front of Lyle’s contained at least seven or eight sheets of paper which, he assumed, were all statements. So, he chose to be open about everything.

Jack explained how on her first visit Tania had wanted help to get her dad off her back, so that she could follow her dream of becoming a Hollywood star. He told Lyle how one minute she was offering him sex, and the next she was crying like a baby; and how she shifted between ‘Marilyn’ and Tania in the blink of an eye. He explained how she seemed to be a confused mess of a girl, who’d lost track of who she was.

‘She was more challenging the second time. Perhaps because I was, too. I flatly refused to let her in, regardless of her again seeming to be drunk and high, because my daughter was asleep on the sofa.’ Jack took a deep breath as he got to the more potentially damaging moments of her visit. ‘I closed the door on her. She kicked it numerous times, forcing me to go back and open it.’

Lyle took a second sheet of A4 paper from his file and placed it on top of Laura’s statement. ‘Your neighbour looked out of his window at this point.’

‘Then my neighbour would have heard Tania shouting, “Rape!” and seen me dragging her inside.’ Lyle smiled his appreciation at Jack’s honesty. Jack continued to relay the facts with absolute confidence that he had nothing to hide. ‘I’ve never seen Tania straight. I don’t know what she was actually like. But the volatile, frightened child I met was disturbing to be around. Because regardless of the fact that I wanted to help her, I was a man alone with a sexually aware young girl. I was more vulnerable than her on both of the occasions she came into my home.’ Jack glanced at the file. ‘I expect you have a statement from the taxi driver in there.’ On cue, Lyle pulled a third sheet of paper from the file and laid it face up on top of the neighbour’s statement. He then took a fourth sheet of paper and handed it to Jack. Much of it was blacked out, but some of it was readable.

‘Elliot Wetlock managed to get Tania to a couple of therapy sessions over the years.’ The information Lyle chose to volunteer came as no surprise to Jack. ‘It was suspected she may have been experiencing the onset of schizophrenia, possibly triggered by excessive drug use. They didn’t see her again, so she was never properly assessed and diagnosed. Mr Wetlock never returned to them, nor did he approach his community mental health team.’

‘She tried to call someone for a lift both times she left my house. Can you get her call history?’ Jack asked, trying to keep the impatience from his voice.

‘That’s in hand.’ Lyle slid all of the paperwork back into the file, suggesting that the interview was almost over. But instead, he kicked things up a gear. ‘Did you ever see Tania anywhere other than at your home?’ Lyle’s casual tone had been a clumsy ruse to lull Jack into a false sense of security.

‘No, I did not.’

Lyle then asked if Jack had had a sexual relationship with Tania Wetlock.

‘No, I did not.’

Jack knew that Lyle was clutching at straws, but this sort of empty tactic really pissed him off. It was amateurish at the best of times, but to use it on an experienced DS was insulting.

‘I only ask,’ Lyle continued, ‘because we found two bottles of champagne in Tania’s bedroom. One had your fingerprints on it.’

Jack sprang to his feet.

‘You ran my prints! Does DCI Ridley know?’

‘This isn’t his investigation. Sit down please, DS Warr.’

‘She brought the champagne bottle with her and she was swinging it around. I understand that my interactions with her need to be looked into, but that’s the last ridiculous accusation I’m responding to, DC Lyle. If you want to question me as a suspect in the death of Tania Wetlock, then you read me my rights and we’ll do this properly.’

From where Jack stood, he could see more sweat glistening on Lyle’s forehead as he swallowed nervously. He knew he’d got carried away and overstepped the mark.

Jack tried to control his rising temper. ‘I didn’t like Tania, but she was a kid. She could have changed. If it was foul play, I want to help you.’

‘My apologies, DS Warr.’ The play acting was over. Lyle had snapped out of the role of the interviewer trying to outwit the suspect and now started to sound like an actual policeman. ‘The volume and variety of drugs found in the deceased’s bedroom suggests...’ Lyle raised his brows and shook his head. ‘I don’t know what it suggests. Medical. As well as street. Nembutal, chloral hydrate, demerol, various barbiturates such as amytal. Cannabis and cocaine. Some of the bottles had her name on them, some had no labels. We don’t know if this was a suicide, accidental or otherwise, but we suspect that a third party was at least aiding her addiction. With your fingerprints in her bedroom, we had to consider... I mean... you could quite easily have access to prescribed medication.’

‘Maggie? You think I could have got the unlabelled prescription drugs from Maggie? Have you met my wife? She would never jeopardise her job, even for me. Surely your first port of call with that train of thought would be Tania’s father.’

DC Lyle shook his head. ‘He’s not being as cooperative as you. For now, we’re treating him as the grieving parent, while also seeking court orders to access his office, his home, and even his hospital locker.’ He then held out his hand for Jack to shake. ‘I may need to see you again, DS Warr. Please don’t... my apologies, but I have to say these words out loud to you... please don’t attempt to leave the country.’

Lyle made his parting line sound like it had not come from him, which of course it hadn’t. It had come from much higher up. Meaning that Jack was still very much on their radar.

By 3 p.m., Jack was sitting in The Red Dragon eating a family-sized slice of microwaved frozen lasagne accompanied by some chunks of lettuce, tomato, cucumber and onion. Dave was no chef, but the portions of food served here catered for a healthy appetite. It was a coppers’ pub, with fast food and cheap beer. As Jack drained his pint glass, his mobile phone lay on the table in front of him, chattering away on speaker as Laura told him all about her evening with Josh. She was clearly in lust, but Josh was a great guy as far as Jack could make out. Dave leant on the bar in an otherwise empty pub with a deeply confused frown on his face. It was only when Laura started talking about the case, that Jack took her off speaker.

‘Josh was telling me that the low-hanging-fruit guy they arrested at the Jenkins’ property is starting to open up. He’s a long-time drug user, which is exactly the sort of person this gang uses. He admitted driving the Range Rover they had nicked; he was given cocaine as payment, and told they might need him again. Anyway, Josh has offered him rehab followed by relocation. His alternative is to be let back on the street, which he knows would be a death sentence. He’s scared rigid they might find out he’s been arrested and will rat on them.’

Jack smiled at Laura’s use of the word ‘rat’, instead of ‘grass’ or ‘inform’. She really had been spending too much time with Josh.

Laura continued: ‘Josh is now liaising with the Dutch police about... oh God, bloody Anik! if he tells me one more time that his Dutch policeman is now helping the Drug Squad, I’ll bloody kill him. Lieutenant Garritt Visser, he’s called. Josh says he’s good. Between them, they’ve isolated both ends of a small but well-established supply route. They’re currently identifying weak links and picking them off one by one. Nobody that low down the pecking order has any idea who Mr Big is but — and this is interesting, Jack — a couple of the weak links arrested at the Dutch end were recruited in Leeds.’

‘Listen, I’ve got to go, Laura, thanks for keeping me up to speed, I’ll be in touch.’

Foxy was waiting for Jack in the reception area of the mortuary. He was impeccably dressed for a man who’d just spent his day opening up Tania Wetlock. As soon as he saw Jack enter, he joined him and they took a taxi to have a late lunch and a good bottle of red at La Famiglia. The idea of eating again made Jack feel sick, but he needed to know what the post-mortem had revealed.

Jack picked at a steamed sea bass, whilst Foxy tucked into a huge plate of spaghetti bolognese and joked that Maggie had clearly got Jack on a diet already, before switching to discussing the post-mortem.

‘She’d ingested enough drugs to kill an elephant. Some of the capsules were still whole, so I can tell you that she took or was given barbiturates amongst other things. Toxicology has got the contents of her bedside cabinet to confirm that the drug on the label of each bottle conforms to what’s inside.’

A beautiful teenage waiter, wearing immaculate make-up, and with his shoulder-length blond hair scraped back by an Alice band, appeared behind Foxy to fill the empty glass in front of him. But Foxy didn’t pause the conversation.

‘And I’ve given them urine, blood and stomach contents. Plus slices of kidney and liver to take a look at. When I cut through the stomach wall, I could smell booze.’

The young waiter hurried back to the kitchen, with his hand over his mouth.

‘There was a considerable amount of congestion and haemorrhaging to the stomach lining,’ Foxy continued, ‘again suggesting an overdose of barbiturates. Such a shame. She’d done a bloody good job of hiding the damage she’d done to herself — cheek and breast implants, lip and eye fillers, teeth all capped. She didn’t even have needle marks.’ Foxy dabbed his mouth and chin with a napkin, then sighed. ‘But you can’t hide the damage on the inside. She’d been abusing drugs and alcohol for a good seven or eight years and — considering that she was only 17 — my guess is that she had help. Kids don’t know how to get their hands on the stuff she had in her possession.’

‘You said she had no needle marks,’ Jack said. ‘So, here’s a question for the lunch table, Foxy: did you examine her colon?’ Foxy gave Jack a puzzled look. ‘Drug enemas might be the preferred method of someone she knows,’ Jack explained.

Foxy nodded. ‘It’s certainly a highly effective way of getting drugs, usually benzodiazepines, into the bloodstream quickly.’ Foxy drained his wine glass and moved onto his third, as Jack still nursed his first. ‘Not that Tania needed to do that, because she seemed not to have sporadic fixes like a junky, more like one long, continuous maintenance dose. But I’ll certainly check for you.’ He stood and thanked Jack for lunch. ‘Right, got to dash. Toxicology reports on our first two ladies are with Laura.’

Jack sat back in his chair and sipped at the remains of his wine. After eating a gigantic lasagne followed by steamed sea bass, and drinking a pint followed by a glass of red wine, he felt uncomfortably full. He asked the waiter to bring the bill while he dialled a number.

‘Laura, Foxy says you’ve got the tox report on AJ and JC.’ Because Jack was seated in a public place, he didn’t use the full names of their two victims. Laura didn’t have long as she was heading into a briefing. She confirmed that Jessica Chi had heroin in her system and Avril Jenkins had cannabis, demerol and MDMA in hers.

Jack immediately recalled the video Mal had shown him, and the replica rubber MDMA tablet. When the masked men carried Avril upstairs, had they drugged her? Demerol and cannabis were no doubt part of her normal routine, but MDMA?

‘Thanks, Laura. I think TW could possibly be murder. Foxy’s checking for the presence of...’ Jack was about to say the words ‘drug enemas’ when he looked up to see the waiter hovering with a card machine in one hand and a small silver plate in the other, with the bill and a couple of mints. Jack chose not to traumatise the poor lad any further.

As Jack walked through his front door, he was greeted by the normally beautiful aroma of fish pie. But tonight, the thought of any more food made him feel sick. He’d have to come up with an excuse for not eating.

In the kitchen, Hannah was banging a wheel-less toy car down onto her plate, while Penny drew patterns in the potato topping on the fish pie with the back of a fork. ‘Your favourite!’ she beamed with motherly pride.

Jack smiled and nodded, doing his best to pretend that he was hungry.

‘Look at this, darling.’ Penny moved towards Hannah, who instinctively raised her arms to be picked up. Penny took Hannah’s socks off, stood her on the floor and told Jack to kneel down a short distance in front of her. He knew what was coming. He knelt down, held out his hands to his daughter and encouraged her to come to him. Hannah gripped one of Penny’s fingers and wobbled back and forth at the hips. Her perfect little toes curled downwards in an endeavour to grip the lino. Her mouth gaped open under the effort of concentration. When she was ready, she let go of Penny’s finger. Hannah stood like a starfish, legs wide and arms out to the side. Her hips wobbled every time she shifted her weight slightly in an attempt to lift one foot and take that first step. She’d achieved this wobbly stage about one week ago but until now she’d always just dropped to her knees and crawled because it was quicker. Today was different. Today, she wanted to walk. After a few seconds of working herself up to the big event, Hannah took her first step. She screamed, reached for Jack’s outstretched hands and made a stuttering run for it. Four steps later, Jack threw her into the air and loudly announced that she was a genius.

Ten minutes later, Maggie came home from work. Ten minutes after that, she and Jack were kneeling on the kitchen floor encouraging their daughter to walk between them. By the time she was ready for bed, Hannah could walk twelve whole steps.

After dinner, which Jack had not had the heart to refuse, he and Maggie tidied the kitchen whilst Penny had an early night. ‘A DC Lyle called the hospital today and asked if he could speak with me. I couldn’t. Not today, because of the workload Mr Wetlock’s absence has left us with. But he’s asked me to go to the station tomorrow afternoon.’ Maggie fell silent for a second before continuing. ‘Penny says you asked her not to mention how bad Tania was when she came here.’

Jack was firm about the fact that he’d not asked Penny to lie. ‘I asked her to stick to the facts and not be over-dramatic. They found a champagne bottle with my prints on in her bedroom. And they asked me not to leave the country. They know my wife is a doctor so assume I have access to prescription drugs. Police work, Mags, is a process of elimination, but until I’m eliminated from their enquiries, Mum telling them that Tania ran out of this house looking like she’d been attacked, crying and calling me a bastard, isn’t going to help my case!’

‘Well...’ Maggie whipped the tea towel onto her shoulder and began putting the clean plates away. ‘Fortunately for you, I was too drunk to be able give your DC Lyle a coherent statement.’