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  Chapter 20

  Walker didn’t have to say anything but she was reminded every second of the journey that she was in his car. She could barely breathe without him looking at her. The interior was spotlessly clean, as if it had just come out of the showroom. Walker ignored the directions from the satnav as if showing off his superior road knowledge.

  Matilda didn’t want to complain about being partnered with him but she wasn’t sure how long she could last. Just looking at him made her skin crawl. He had a permanent smug look on his face, as if he knew something she didn’t. She thought back to the conversation at the canteen at headquarters and wished she’d somehow taped it or that someone had overheard. She knew that sooner or later he would slip up again and this time she would be ready.

  They drove for another thirty minutes in painful silence, Walker breaking the monotony every now and again by smiling to himself at some internal quip.

  The hospital where Laura Dempsey worked had been informed of her family’s murder but had yet to be informed about the death of Laura’s parents.

  A nurse was waiting for them in the hospital reception. Walker perked up on seeing her. Although she was fifteen years his senior, she was a typical male fantasy – tall, slim, blonde hair, blue-eyes She introduced herself as Lucy Marshall. She beamed at Walker but barely made eye contact with Matilda.

  ‘It’s unbelievable news,’ she said, her face impassive. ‘I haven’t been able to speak to Laura. How is she?’

  ‘She’s physically unhurt,’ said Matilda. ‘We have her under guard at the moment. We’ll let you know as soon as she’s able to speak.’

  ‘Under guard? Why? Is she in danger?’

  ‘It’s just precautions. Shall we get a coffee and we can talk in more detail.’

  It was the end of lunchtime and the coffee shop within the hospital was nearly empty. They took a seat near the rear and Walker went to order the drinks.

  ‘How long have you known Laura?’ asked Matilda.

  ‘We’ve worked here together for the last fifteen years.’

  Walker returned with the coffees, Marshall’s face lighting up.

  ‘So Laura’s worked here for some time?’ confirmed Matilda.

  Marshall nodded, her eyes focused solely on Walker. ‘I think she worked somewhere before here. A care home or something. Decided she’d had enough and wanted to study for her professional qualifications. She’s a bit older than me,’ she said dragging her hand through her long hair.

  ‘What can you tell us about Laura?’ asked Walker.

  Matilda was amazed her colleague’s acting ability, the look of care and concern in his eyes as he spoke to the nurse.

  ‘Laura’s great. As I’ve said we’ve been friends since we started here. She’s a wonderful woman, very hard working. Conscientious. She’s a great laugh as well, or at least she used to be.’

  ‘Used to be?’ asked Matilda. The woman frowned and took a drink from her coffee.

  ‘Don’t get me wrong, she’s still fun but, well, things changed a bit when she got married, as you’d expect.’

  ‘In what way?’

  ‘Well obviously she stopped coming out so much and she was soon pregnant. She used to be wild back in the day. Not for me this settling down business,’ she said, looking coyly at Walker.

  ‘How wild was she before?’ asked Walker, fiddling with his beard, flirting with the nurse who was technically old enough to be his mother.

  ‘Let’s just say she was a popular girl,’ said Marshall.

  ‘And what about now? Did she have any enemies? Any male interest?’

  ‘Enemies? No. Obviously there’s the normal politics bullshit we all have to endure. And the patients.’ The nurse stopped and looked around the coffee shop, checking no one could overhear. ‘The patients are what make this job a nightmare. She’s had a few complaints against her, we all have, but no disciplinary issues as far as I’m aware.’

  ‘And men?’ asked Walker.

  Marshall smiled, sipping her coffee. ‘She’s a happily married… Oh,’ The woman’s face paled, as she remembered the reason they were there – the brutal slaughter of Laura’s family. ‘God I’m sorry, I forgot.’

  ‘No, that’s fine,’ said Walker, placing his hand on the nurse’s arm.

  It was all Matilda could do not to snatch it away. ‘Did she have any male interest?’ asked Matilda, desperate now for the interview to be finished.

  Marshall smiled and looked at Matilda, her focus on her for the first time since they’d met. Walker’s hand was still on her arm.

  ‘Well Laura is a bit of a looker and you know how these places are. She wasn’t short of offers, but there was nothing going on if that’s what you’re getting at.’ The woman held her gaze as if she was somehow challenging her.

  Matilda stood up, ending the meeting. ‘Thank you for your time. Please let me know if you can think of anything else which could help us, and Laura.’

  ‘Did you get her number?’ asked Matilda, when they were back in the car.

  ‘Don’t be like that, Kennedy. Jealousy is such a terrible affliction.’

  ‘The only terrible affliction is your propensity for bullshit and you were way too familiar with that nurse.’

  ‘I was just comforting her. Her best friend has just suffered a traumatic experience. I wouldn’t have had to if you hadn’t been so cold.’

  ‘If you’re that interested you can check up on Laura when we get back to the office. You can also run a search using her maiden name.’

  Walker glared at her through the rear-view mirror. She could see it was eating away at him taking an order from her. They sat in silence until it became too much for Walker.

  ‘Okay, boss,’ he said eventually, throwing his arms up in the air in mock outrage. ‘I’ll get straight on it.’

  Chapter 21

  He found Kennedy in the coffee shop two streets down from the station, staring into space.

  ‘Where’s Walker?’ asked Lambert.

  ‘In the office. I’ve got him searching The System.’

  Lambert sat opposite her, Kennedy’s back straightening in response. ‘How are things working out with Walker?’

  ‘It’s only been a day.’

  ‘I know, but you’ve dealt with him before.’

  Kennedy lowered her eyelids as a blast of sunshine filtered in through the window. ‘You could say that. How long is he going to be on the team?’

  It was clear she was not ready to discuss her true feelings about her colleague. ‘For this case at least. Or as long as Tillman wants him.’

  ‘Tillman?’ The word came out as a squeak, and Lambert noticed a subtle change in her body positioning.

  His phone rang, an unknown number.

  Lambert gripped the phone, and looked outside the window. Across the street, a man wearing a t-shirt and high-vis jacket held a phone to his ear. He stared through the glass at Lambert, and began to talk. A group of students walked by. Two of them, young girls wearing summer dresses and Doc Martens, held phones to their ears. Kennedy shot him a puzzled look as the phone continued to ring.

  ‘Speak later,’ he said, leaving the table. He pressed the green button on his phone’s screen as he left the coffee shop. ‘Lambert.’

  ‘I’m not there,’ said the voice.

  ‘Where are you then?’

  The voice laughed. ‘How are your investigations developing?’

  ‘What do you care?’

  ‘I care a great deal. I haven’t finished yet.’

  ‘There’s a finishing point?’ asked Lambert.

  ‘That’s up to you.’

  It was a brittle comfort knowing that the man planned to finish whatever quest he was on. It also meant there would be more victims. ‘What’s next?’

  ‘Let’s not spoil things by asking stupid questions. What does Matilda Kennedy think about all this?’

  Lambert paused, unsure what to say. He opened his car, which was parked on the side street next to the shop, a
nd sat in the driver’s seat. He began picturing everyone he’d seen inside. It had been busy, but he recalled the faces. A group of four businessmen, with their suit jackets and ties. Two mothers, their newborns in oversized prams to their side. He recalled five people sitting alone. Three men, two reading newspapers, one on his iPad. Two female students, working on laptops. ‘She thinks the same as me. That you’re desperate for attention.’

  ‘I hope she thinks a bit deeper than that, Lambert. With her roots, I’m sure she will.’

  ‘Roots?’ asked Lambert, despite himself.

  ‘You must know Daddy Kennedy, no?’

  ‘Enlighten me.’

  ‘Assistant Chief Constable Kennedy. North Shields. Quite a family. Probably explains her fixation with authority.’

  Each word from the man was perfectly measured, as if he’d planned the conversation and learnt his lines like an actor. ‘Tell me what you want, or hang up,’ said Lambert.

  ‘I’ve told you before, Lambert. We’re alike, you and I. Not completely but almost.’

  ‘I’m nothing like you.’

  ‘Perhaps. Anyway, must dash. You should really take a break, Lambert. Make the most of the sunshine, pop to the seaside perhaps. Say hello to Eustace when you get there.’

  The line was cut.

  Lambert started the car, and rushed into the traffic. He hated himself for reacting to the call but he had to see Eustace Sackville. He slammed his fist onto the dashboard as he became caught at temporary traffic lights a mile from Sackville’s flat. ‘Come on,’ he screamed, pulling the magnetic siren onto his roof. The vehicles in front pulled over, and Lambert cursed, knowing he would have to report his actions.

  There was no answer to the bell outside Sackville’s flat. He knocked on the glass panelled doors, and the concierge made his way over at the pace of a snail. Lambert displayed his warrant card, and seconds later was in the lift. He sprinted the short distance to Sackville’s front door and noticed it was open, the lock smashed.

  He took the expandable baton from his belt and pushed the door open. A woman was looking through the drawers in the living room sideboard. She looked over at Lambert as if she had every right to be in the room. ‘Shit,’ she said.

  ‘You alone?’

  ‘Yes, I’m alone, DCI Lambert. Why not join me?’

  The woman was Mia Helmer, the editor from Sackville’s newspaper.

  ‘I’ll be arresting you if you don’t clarify the situation to my liking,’ said Lambert, edging through the door. He glanced around the room, verifying that Helmer was alone. ‘And drop whatever you have there.’

  Helmer glanced at a set of papers in her hand as if she’d just seen them for the first time. ‘The door was broken when I got here.’

  ‘Why are you here in the first place?’

  ‘I wanted to see Eustace. I hadn’t heard from him since the incident. I thought he could do with seeing a friendly face.’

  Lambert remembered the journalist’s emotionless reaction to Moira Sackville’s murder, her only real interest being the story.

  ‘Take a seat, Mia. Start from the beginning.’

  She still held the file in her hands. She carried it to the sofa and sat down. Lambert took it from her. ‘How long have you been here?’

  ‘Fifteen minutes. I saw the door was broken so I went in to check everything was okay.’

  ‘You called the police?’

  She clenched her face muscles. ‘Not yet. Sorry, I got side tracked.’

  ‘You expect me to believe this is a coincidence. Look at the place, it doesn’t look as if someone else has been here first. What are you here for?’

  Mia lifted her hands in the air. ‘I’m being deadly serious. The door was broken when I arrived, check for prints or whatever it is you do. I haven’t been near the lock. Anyway, why are you here?’

  Lambert thought back to what the killer had said. ‘Does Eustace have another place?’

  ‘To live?’ asked Mia, surprised by Lambert’s change of direction.

  ‘Somewhere by the sea?’

  ‘Not that I’m aware of, why?’

  Lambert was sure the killer had been here, had broken the lock. ‘Why did you come here?

  Mia paused, about to go in defence mode. ‘Anonymous tip, would you believe. Told me to go here alone.’

  ‘And you did?’

  ‘I told my assistant to call you lot if she hadn’t heard from me in an hour.’

  ‘And what did you hope to find?’

  ‘A story.’

  ‘Well, you’re in one now.’ Lambert took out his mobile.

  ‘Wait, we’re about to go public with the Dempsey murders. We know about Laura Dempsey’s parents as well. You don’t want us going public with these revelations.’

  ‘If you know, then the others will.’

  Mia paused. She took in a deep breath. ‘I’m not so sure.’

  ‘Why, who spoke to you?

  Mia didn’t answer. She stared blankly at Lambert.

  ‘The killer?’

  Mia paused then nodded.

  ‘What else did he say?’

  ‘He told me to listen, and listed all the murders from Moira onwards. He told me to go public.’

  If she was shaken up by the revelations, she was hiding it well. She stared back at Lambert with the same icy composure she’d shown the first time he’d met her at her office. If it was all a show then she was an assured actress.

  ‘Did he give a reason?’

  Mia shook her head. ‘He just told me to go here, to find out what Eustace knows.’

  ‘So what are you offering?’

  ‘We won’t print anything yet, but time is running out.’

  It wasn’t the greatest of deals but he didn’t want the news getting out yet, and was sure Tillman didn’t either. ‘Okay, but I want a full statement. I need to know everything the killer said to you.’

  He called it in.

  ‘Right, empty all your pockets and everything from your bag onto the table.’

  He confiscated the journalist’s phone. ‘Did he tell you to look for anything specific?’

  Mia pursed her lips, an unruly child sitting on time out. ‘No.’

  ‘And have you found it?’

  ‘You want to strip search me?’ Mia tilted her head.

  ‘I’m not ruling it out.’

  He began searching where Mia had left off. The sideboard drawers were chaotic. He flicked through piles of bills and statements which stretched back for years, obsolete instruction manuals, tickets stubs, loose batteries and coins. If there was important information in the flat then he doubted Eustace would have hidden it somewhere so open.

  Kennedy, Walker and Devlin arrived twenty minutes later. Lambert pointed to Devlin. ‘Arrest this woman for breaking and entering,’ he said.

  For the first time in the brief time he’d known her, Mia showed some emotion. ‘We had a deal.’

  ‘I don’t remember agreeing to anything. You got me thinking, Mia. Why would the killer break in here then tell you about it? He would have taken whatever he needed.’

  ‘You must be fucking joking. This will be on the front page as soon as I get out.’

  ‘Tell my team all you know and we’ll go from there.’

  Devlin lifted the journalist from the sofa and received a slap in the face.

  ‘You can’t touch me,’ said Mia, her neck tendons at breaking point.

  Devlin cuffed the woman.

  ‘Add assault to the charges,’ said Lambert, as Devlin led the journalist away.

  ‘Okay, okay,’ said Mia. ‘Take these fucking things off and I’ll show you.’

  Devlin looked over and Lambert nodded.

  ‘Do you mind?’ said Mia, opening her blouse.

  ‘Kennedy,’ said Lambert, turning his back.

  ‘You can open your eyes,’ said Kennedy, seconds later, smirking. In her hand she held a micro USB stick, wrapped in some sort of plastic covering,

  Lambert shook his head.
‘He told you?’ he asked Mia.

  Kennedy stared at him confused. ‘Eustace?’

  Mia smiled. ‘Not the brightest, is she? He couldn’t find it, that’s why he called me.’

  ‘Can someone tell me what is going on?’ said Kennedy.

  ‘Hang on. Where did you find it?’

  ‘Why do you think it’s wrapped in polythene?’

  Lambert put the stick to his nose. ‘Whisky.’

  ‘Always at the bottom of a bottle.’

  ‘Devlin, take Miss Helmer in for a statement. The agreement stands for now, Mia. If the story goes public in the next twenty-four hours you’ll be arrested and charged.’

  ‘I want every inch of this place searched,’ he said, once Devlin had led Mia away. ‘We need to know where Eustace is hiding and why.’ He thought back to what the killer had told him. ‘Eustace mentioned something to me about the seaside. Let me know if you find anything relevant.’

  Sackville’s office was even more cluttered than the living room. Lambert counted five glass tumblers, each reeking of single malt. Piles of books and papers were strewn on the shelves about Sackville’s desk. He switched on the man’s PC, surprised to be able to go straight through to his desktop. He plugged in the USB stick, hoping his luck would continue. The PC was ancient, the fan struggling as the computer accessed the files on the drive.

  A list of over one hundred files appeared on the screen. Lambert double clicked the first file and was dismayed to find a request to enter a password. He tried ten more random files, receiving the same message each time. He was about to give in, when he noticed the last seven files. The first letter of each file were arranged to make an acronym scrolling down the page in a vertical line. The acronym read: BLAKE.

  Chapter 22

  Lambert handed the USB stick to Kennedy. ‘Get this to the tech guys, priority. I need every file examined. Let me know when you’re finished here.’

  ‘Where are you going?’

  ‘Best you don’t know.’

  Kennedy paused. ‘Was that call anything to do with this?’ she asked.