Vanished

Chapter 4

Jessica, Jack learnt, was a model and wannabe actress, and she lived in a small flat off the King’s Road. She’d not seen or heard from Adam in more than two months, regardless of the fact that she’d called his mobile daily. Jessica shared Adam’s mobile number with Jack, along with numerous photos, which he then sent to Anik, asking him to run the information through every database he could.

Jack then asked Jessica if she knew Avril Jenkins.

‘She’s a freak. A sad, horrible snob of a woman, who’s living in some sort of deluded time warp. She wanted Adam all to herself — and genuinely thought that he might want her. After he moved in, she started to get more aggressive with me — not physically, just words. Adam thought it was funny until she started accusing him of theft and — you’ll never believe this — sexual impropriety! That’s what she called it. But when a woman claims something like that, the police have to believe her, don’t they? She scared Adam away with the threat of that.’ Jessica began to sob. ‘God, I hope that’s all she did to him.’

Jessica now seemed to be insinuating that Avril was the aggressor, and Adam was the victim. Jack encouraged her to keep talking.

‘Her husband died of a heart attack... supposedly. Don’t trust her little-girl-lost routine. It’s fake. Avril Jenkins is a hard, crafty old bitch, who thinks she can hide in that mansion of hers, protected by all the money her husband left behind. Avril plays the naive housewife card when you ask her about business, but she did his books. I know she did ’cos Adam told me.’ The tears came again. ‘Maybe he got to know too much, living under the same roof as her? Maybe...’

Jessica had brought to light two clear possibilities: either Adam had been scared away by the accusations of theft and sexual impropriety and decided to run, leaving his bereft girlfriend behind; or he’d been murdered by a pensioner and was buried in the overgrown mess of a garden he used to get paid to tend. Jack knew which one of those possibilities was more likely. But then, nothing about this case was straightforward. The main thing Jack couldn’t get his head round was why a good-looking, well educated, Porsche-driving young man ended up being a gardener and odd-job man for a batty old eccentric in the first place. The relationship between Avril and Adam simply didn’t make sense. Annoyingly, Jack was back to being intrigued.

Later that afternoon, Jack, Anik and Laura talked through everything they knew — which was a lot less than everything they didn’t know. How and why had Adam gone completely off grid? This could be the trait of a man who didn’t want to be found, so was there more to him than met the eye? Or had something happened to him, just as Jessica feared? On the other hand, if Avril had done something illegal, such as murdering her ex-lodger, why would she get the police involved by claiming he was stalking her?

‘I’ve just got an email back from Avril’s insurance company,’ Laura said. ‘Items of jewellery reported stolen... diamond stud earrings, gold necklace, an emerald and diamond ring, three silver bangles... total value, around the £40k mark. Reported stolen on a series of different dates between, let’s see... three and seven months ago.’ Laura frowned. ‘So Adam and Jessica were randomly nicking off the old girl?’

Anik piped up. ‘My guess is that he’s a chancer. He wheedled his way in, thinking he’d con the old girl out of some stuff, but met his match. He’ll be playing the gigolo with someone else now. And the stalking’s all in her head. The neighbours say so. Even you and the boss say so.’

‘OK...’ The reluctance in Jack’s voice was clear. ‘Check Chelsea College about Adam’s next of kin, then we’ll call it a day. Laura, the paperwork’s on my desk, already signed off. But don’t give it to Ridley till tomorrow morning. I want to mull everything over one final time this evening.’

As Jack headed home for his pre-arranged babysitting duties, something deep in his gut was telling him that this wasn’t finished.

The moment Jack stepped through the door, Maggie and Penny rushed past him, giving him a kiss on the cheek and an assurance that Hannah was sleeping soundly upstairs as they hurried off to their appointment.

In the centre of the kitchen table was an open bottle of Malbec and a white paper bag which Jack knew from years of experience would contain two random cakes from the hospital canteen. Their home bakes were phenomenal, and Jack loved them all.

In the microwave was a bowl of chilli on a bed of cooked rice. Jack set it to reheat and poured himself a glass of wine.

He then slumped onto the sofa. He opened the nursery camera app on his mobile, propped it against the wine bottle, put his feet up on the coffee table and tucked into his chilli whilst scrolling through Netflix. Hannah had started sleeping through, but Jack still liked to watch her when he was babysitting alone. The first time, he had the sound on the app turned up high so that, through the distorted static, he could hear her breathing. If she skipped a breath, or sighed, or coughed, he’d race upstairs and watch her from the bedroom door until he was satisfied that there was nothing wrong. He was calmer about it now — but still liked to keep her in sight.

At half past ten, the doorbell rang. Jack opened the door and was stunned to see a young Marilyn Monroe lookalike, wearing a skin-tight dress, and carrying a bottle of champagne. She swayed on her stilettos and had to cling on to the wall just to stay upright. From Laura’s description, Jack guessed this had to be Tania Wetlock. But why the hell was she on his doorstep? He didn’t want to let her in, but she was clearly drunk and therefore vulnerable, so he didn’t want to leave her outside either. As soon as she stepped through the front door, giggling and waving the champagne bottle in the air, Jack could see her pinpoint pupils — not only was she pissed, she was also as high as a kite.

‘I want to speak with... Maggie.’ She was hard to understand because, as well as slurring, she was also pouting and doing an exaggerated Monroe impression. Jack was trying to imagine a scenario in which Maggie would have told Tania where she lived. He eventually asked her outright. ‘Daddy has the CV of everyone on his team.’ Tania shook her head and tutted playfully. ‘I think Maggie’s been playing detective.’

Jack told Tania that Maggie was out, but she wasn’t deterred. She stumbled uninvited into the lounge, kicked off her shoes and, with both legs tucked beneath her tiny body, she made herself comfortable on the sofa. ‘Call the police if you like. I’m not leaving until I speak to her.’

Tania held the bottle of champagne out to Jack with a flirtatious look, but with her smudged make-up and pupils the size of a grain of rice, she just looked like a vulnerable little girl. Jack picked up his mobile and called Maggie. Her phone wasn’t even on, so he was sent straight to voicemail.

Tania waggled the champagne bottle at Jack, but he wasn’t playing. ‘I am the police. And you’re 17.’

A wry smile crept across her enhanced red lips, and she faintly breathed the amended words to a familiar tune. ‘...going on 18.’

Jack said that he was going to call her a taxi. She asked his name and he saw no reason not to tell her. ‘I’m seconds from stardom, Jack. It’s just around the corner. But if Daddy Dearest continues to cause trouble, I could lose it all.’ She pouted. ‘I’m going all the way. As the great lady once said, “A wise girl knows her limits, a smart girl knows she has none.”’

Tania untucked her leg, reached out her perfectly manicured red toes and touched the inside of Jack’s thigh. He wasn’t expecting it and he instinctively jumped back. ‘Oh, don’t be scared, Mr Policeman.’ She slowly and seductively looked him up and down. ‘I was just thinking, maybe you could put Daddy back in his box for me? So that I can follow my destiny and be a star. Is that too much for a girl to ask?’

Tania spotted Jack’s glass of wine on the coffee table. She leapt up, snatched the glass and scooted around the other side of the sofa, out of his reach. Then she kept the sofa between them as she polished off the contents.

‘Who’s making you a star, Tania?’ Jack hated being a man in the company of such a volatile, yet vulnerable young girl. But with his policeman’s head on, he also knew that this could be the perfect time to question her about the currently nameless talent scout. He forced himself to smile. ‘Whoever he is, he’s doing a great job.’

‘We’re not ready to go public yet,’ she whispered, putting a finger to her lips. Tania started to move back around the sofa. ‘Will you help me, Jack? I can be very grateful... if you’d like me to be.’ Tania put her hands on her thighs and slid them upwards, taking her skin-tight dress with them. Jack gently grabbed her wrists and moved them away from her legs before she exposed her underwear. Jessica Chi’s words came back to him, about the police always having to listen to a woman who claimed ‘sexual impropriety’ against a man — here was Tania, with a face and figure that would sexually arouse any red-blooded male, offering herself to him. Fortunately for Tania, Jack was not only a decent man, he was also a father. And all he saw when he looked at her was a child.

‘Don’t you want me, Jack?’ Tears welled quickly in Tania’s eyes. ‘Am I ugly?’

‘You’re beautiful, Tania. But I don’t like this version of you. And I don’t think you do either.’ As Jack’s words hit a nerve, she began to struggle. Jack didn’t want to hold on to her wrists, but she was pulling away so hard that he feared if he let go, she’d fall. He steered her towards the sofa and dropped her onto the cushions. Tania curled up into a ball and started sobbing.

In her small black leather shoulder bag, Jack found a provisional driving licence with her home address. He ordered an Uber to come and collect her, then perched on the coffee table. ‘Tania, I’ll help you with your dad, if you tell me about the man who’s promising you the world.’

When Tania spoke, the Marilyn Monroe impression had gone, and her natural upper crust accent had taken over. ‘He takes care of me. He loves me.’ Tania struggled to sit up. Her hair was a mess, her make-up was smudged, and her tear-streaked cheeks and neck were blotchy.

But just as it seemed she was about to open up, Tania vanished, and Marilyn Monroe returned. She leapt up, collecting her shoes and the bottle of champagne. ‘I make mistakes...’ the breathy, whispered voice was back, ‘but if you can’t handle me at my worst, then you sure as hell don’t deserve me at my best.’

Tania moved to the front door, taking small, careful steps, so she could dial and walk at the same time. ‘Where am I? I need to tell my lift where I am.’ Jack reminded her there was an Uber on the way, which was already paid for. Tania struggled to open the front door, dropping her shoes, then the champagne. Jack handed her champagne bottle back to her then helped her get out into the street where, thankfully, the Uber was already parked up waiting. As Tania climbed into the front of the car, Jack caught part of what she said before she slammed the passenger door shut. ‘I didn’t think he was going to let me out...’ Jack got a long, disgusted look from the driver as he turned the car round and drove off.

Jack sat on the sofa, poured himself a fresh glass of wine, and waited for Maggie and Penny to come home. It was 11 p.m. when they finally staggered in, so excited about the wedding dress fitting that he chose not to mention his visit from Tania Wetlock. Penny went straight to bed, but Maggie was in the mood for talking.

When Jack next glanced at the time on his mobile, it was 2 a.m.

At 7 a.m., Jack woke on the sofa beneath a blanket. Maggie was now sitting in the armchair, swiping through her mobile, checking out novelty ideas for homemade wedding favours. She’d covered him up around 2.30 a.m. and gone to bed. Jack sat up, massaging his stiff neck. Maggie smiled across at him. ‘Whose red lipstick is on your wine glass?’

Maggie sat on the closed toilet seat listening to Jack rant about bloody Tania Wetlock as he showered for work. ‘She came on to me, I’ll tell you that up front. If I’d been a shitter person, I could have done anything I wanted.’

‘I am sorry, Jack. I’ll talk to him again.’

‘She needs help. But that’s on her dad’s shoulders, Mags, not mine. And not yours. If I had the name and address of her talent scout, I could check him out, but until then...’ Jack let out a heavy sigh. He dropped his head, closed his eyes and let the water cascade through his hair and down his face. ‘You should have seen the look the Uber guy gave me.’

Maggie stepped into the shower and wrapped her arms around him. ‘I’ll tell Mr Wetlock that you’ve done all you can.’

Jack looked thoughtful and slightly sulky. ‘Is he really short and fat?’

Maggie laughed, putting her hands around his waist and kissing him whilst confirming that Wetlock could look like Gerard Butler, and she still wouldn’t notice him.

‘Gerard Butler! Really?’ Jack laughed. ‘Should I grow a beard? Would you like that?’ Their playfulness soon turned to spontaneous passion, and they made quick, intense love in the shower before both having to race to work.

Jack expected to be last in but, in fact, Ridley crept in five minutes behind him, fuelling Anik’s immature speculation that he’d got himself a sexually demanding girlfriend. Ridley, with his mobile to his ear, didn’t acknowledge anyone, heading straight to his office as he listened intently to whoever was on the other end of the phone. Whoever it was, they were putting him in a visibly bad mood.

Eventually, he stepped back out of his office looking very serious, even for him. ‘In the early hours of this morning, Mr Bernard Warton, the next-door neighbour of Avril Jenkins, was woken by the sound of breaking glass. He saw smoke coming from her back garden, so called the fire brigade. The greenhouse and its contents were pretty much gone by the time they arrived. The fire service immediately put on face masks to protect themselves from the toxic fumes coming from the hundreds of cannabis plants that had been growing inside.’

Laura and Anik, open-mouthed, turned to Jack in stunned slow motion. He’d been to her house twice! How the hell didn’t he know she was growing enough weed to supply the whole of Kingston? Anik brought his hand to his mouth in a half-hearted attempt to hide his giggling — he was going to enjoy making sure this monumental cock-up followed Jack around for years.

Ridley continued. ‘A gas canister exploded, injuring one fire officer, but they eventually made the area safe. The sub officer called Kingston nick to check the house for occupants. In the en suite to the master bedroom, they found the body of Avril Jenkins. It wasn’t pretty.’

In that moment, all eyes turned to Anik as he desperately tried to rewind the last twenty seconds of his life. Ridley dropped the Jenkins file into the bin. ‘Needless to say, the Avril Jenkins case stays with us.’