Backlash (7 page)

‘What?’

‘You were always jealous of her relationship with Langton. How often have you run to the canteen for his chicken toastie, picking out the tomatoes because he hates them?’

Barbara refused to rise to the bait, sliding her unfinished plate to one side and walking off with a foul expression on her face. Sometimes Joan really pushed it with her.

Anna was studying the mug shots of Henry Oates. Langton had said that he had no idea what Oates looked like. The man had a very unpleasant expression. His hair was a dirty
blond, very thick and wiry. He had wide-set pale blue eyes and a boxer’s face; the bridge of his nose in profile was very flat and saddle-shaped, but turned up at the end with pig-like
nostrils. His mouth was very narrow and turned downwards, and, like a petulant child, he glared into the camera lens.

‘Unpleasant-looking, isn’t he?’ Anna said, as Barbara and Joan walked into the office.

‘He’s even nastier in the flesh; his skin’s very pale – redhead’s skin with freckles,’ Barbara replied as Anna turned and glared at her.

‘No offence, ma’am. You’ve got red hair, but you don’t have that coloured skin.’

Anna chose to ignore Barbara’s acerbic comment.

‘Is he fit? You can’t tell from the mug shots,’ Anna asked as Joan handed over her coffee.

‘Wiry, with big shovel-like hands. Barolli said he stinks like a skunk and lived in squalor like an animal,’ Joan replied as she moved along the board to point out the photographs
taken from Oates’s basement flat.

‘So you joining the team, are you?’ Barbara asked.

‘I don’t think that’s a matter that concerns you, DC Maddox.’

Barbara, having been put in her place, trudged over to her desk as Joan told Anna how well she looked.

‘Thank you. How’s your mother?’

Joan pulled a face. ‘Same as usual, nothing is ever good enough for her. She’s got me waiting on her hand and foot, but she’s got meals on wheels delivering her lunches. She
doesn’t really go out any more, her focus in life is the TV, and I got Sky for her so she’s got enough channels to keep her happy.’

Anna asked if the HOLMES computer in Mike Lewis’s office was live and linked to their case, and on being informed that it was she picked up the Jordan files along with her briefcase and
said that she had some work to catch up on while she waited for Mike’s return from Wandsworth. She had contemplated revealing that she would now be heading up the Rebekka Jordan investigation
but felt it would be rude not to speak with Mike personally before informing the team together.

Anna was looking at Henry Oates’s details on the computer and noting that there was little known about him other than his age, date of birth, current address and that he
was divorced with an ex-wife and two kids who now all lived in Scotland. She did not see DCI Mike Lewis enter the main office, but Barbara did, and from her desk she watched his reaction as he
opened his office door.

‘Travis.’

Anna looked up and smiled. ‘Hi, Mike. How’s it going?’

‘I’m fine. How’s things with you?’

‘Great, thanks. I hope you don’t mind me using your desk. I needed computer access to your investigation so I could get up to speed.’

Mike was wrong-footed, but made no reference to the fact he was surprised to see her, and even more surprised when she had implied she was on the team. Tight-lipped, he hung up his coat and drew
the blinds down as his office window looked out into the incident room.

‘What’s going on?’ he asked in a brusque manner.

Anna immediately realised that Langton had not, as he had promised, spoken to Lewis.

‘I got a call from Langton about the Rebekka Jordan investigation.’

‘Yes, and . . .?’

‘He said he’d ring you.’

‘About what exactly?’ Mike asked as he pulled up a chair and sat opposite her. Anna could clearly see that he was upset.

‘First off, Mike, let me make it clear that I’ve been put in an awkward situation here. Langton had already spoken to the Commander about me coming on board so my hands were tied . .
.’

‘Can you get to the point, please, Anna?’ Mike asked.

‘As you know, Langton dealt with the original investigation and in his usual obsessive way wants a result. Some closure for the Jordan family, and I agreed to reinvestigate only if you
were happy about it.’

‘Well this is all news to me and, to be honest, it’s sort of pulled the rug from under me slightly. If he was unhappy about the way I’ve been conducting my
investigation—’

Anna, wanting to diffuse the situation, interrupted him. ‘Mike, he’s not. He feels that you have too much on your plate running all three investigations together. To ease your
workload he wants me to look at the Jordan case and you to deal with Fidelis Flynn and see what similarities we find that may link Oates to their disappearance and murder.’

Mike mulled Anna’s comments over in his mind before replying. ‘Oates thinks I will try and fit him up so independent investigations would help counter that type of allegation,’
he conceded.

‘Mike, you are the senior DCI and it’s your team so I understand if you are uncomfortable with me being here. I want to assist you in any way I can and will do whatever is necessary
so that we can work together rather than in any competitive manner.’

‘As you can see my office is tiny with just the one computer terminal.’

‘I know that. I’m quite happy to work in the team office.’

He shrugged, and again she waited for his response.

‘Okay by me, but so far we have been unable to get any admission from Oates that what he said in his original statement about killing two other girls was the truth. He claims he made it up
or we are trying to fit him up with murder. I interviewed him this morning at the prison and the reality is I’m no further forward.’

‘Kumar’s representing him, isn’t he?’

‘Yeah, and straight up I can’t stand him. I think he’s schooling Oates but I can’t see why as he’s bang to rights for the murder of Justine Marks.’

‘Which he has admitted to?’

‘Well he’s lying, trying to say it was an accident. I went to the pathology and forensic labs after the prison visit and there’s a load of evidence against him for
murder.’

‘Do you think Kumar might go for manslaughter on the grounds of diminished responsibility?’

‘There’s no medical history to show Oates is mentally unstable and Kumar hasn’t asked for pre-trial psychiatric reports.’

‘It’s early days, Mike. If you have evidence against Oates only for Justine Marks then Kumar knows there’s a good chance the CPS may accept a manslaughter plea on
diminished.’

‘That’s Kumar and the court’s problem, but if that situation arises . . .’

Anna pursed her lips and put up her hand to interrupt.

‘What was he like during the interviews?’ she asked.

‘His moods changed. At the station he went from calm to belligerent then visibly anxious, chewing his lip and tapping his foot.’

‘What about at the prison?’

‘He seemed depressed and avoided eye contact until I confronted him about how he knew Fidelis Julia Flynn was an exchange student.’

‘He may not have killed her. He could have met her legitimately and be frightened to say so as he thinks it would implicate him in her disappearance.’

‘You really know how to brighten up my day, Anna.’

‘Sorry, Mike, just being devil’s advocate. If Oates did kill Rebekka and Fidelis then he had to dispose of the bodies somehow, somewhere. If it wasn’t for the uniform officers
stopping Oates Justine Marks could have been just another “Misper” statistic.’

‘We know he’s done some work on building sites but where and when is proving difficult to find out. He’s been virtually unemployed for ten years and claiming benefits, so
anything extra was probably cash in hand.’

‘Well he can clearly drive so maybe he disposes of his victims locally.’

‘I know that, Anna, but with the length of time since both girls went missing and no confirmed locations it’s like looking for a needle in a haystack. I had a search unit check
Hackney Marshes but they found nothing.’

‘Not much to go on then?’

‘You said it.’

Anna stood and picked up her empty coffee cup.

‘You know what Langton always asks me, or used to ask me? He would always want to know what my gut feeling was. What’s yours?’

Mike leaned back in his chair and swivelled from side to side. ‘Well he’s obviously lied about how Justine died. As for Rebekka and Fidelis, why confess to a crime you didn’t
commit?’

‘Attention, notoriety maybe?’

‘Then why retract the confession?’

Anna sighed and Mike raised his hands in a submissive gesture.

‘So in answer to your question, my gut feeling is uncertain. If you want to know what I really think about Henry Oates then read the post mortem report and let me know your gut
feelings.’

Mike handed the report to Anna as he got up from his chair and went over to the blinds to open them.

‘I will let the team know that you are investigating the Rebekka Jordan case while we concentrate on Fidelis Julia Flynn.’

Mike opened the blinds and noticed that Barbara, Joan and Barolli were huddled together whispering to each other.

‘Do you want to do it together?’ Anna asked.

‘I don’t think there will be any need. These walls are paper-thin and by the looks of it that lot have been eavesdropping our conversation.’

‘Some things never change,’ Anna said with a smile.

‘Bet you’ll be glad of a bit of extra help from Travis,’ Barolli said as Mike entered the main office.

‘It’s DCI Travis, or ma’am, and that goes for you all and yes she will be heading up the Jordan investigation and you will give her your full cooperation as and when she asks
for it.’

As Mike Lewis briefed the team Anna went through the post mortem report and murder scene and mortuary photographs. What she saw made her stomach turn as she began to fully
understand exactly how Mike felt about Henry Oates. He was a loathsome individual with no shred of humanity, who needed to be locked away for life. In wondering what drove men like Oates to such
depravity she realized how little she or indeed Mike and the team actually knew about him.

Anna went into the main office, put her files and briefcase on an empty desk and asked Joan to track down Henry Oates’s ex-wife in Scotland. She then turned to
Barbara.

‘Get as much background as you can on Oates. I want you to go back five years. Start with his social security and National Insurance records – any child support, divorce, births;
he’s got two children so there has to be something.’

Barbara gave a hooded look to Joan over her computer but Anna was onto it fast.

‘That a problem for you, Barbara?’

‘No, it’s fine by me. In fact Mike had already asked for as much data as possible.’

‘Good. Paul, have you got a full list of all the items removed from Oates’s squat?’

‘Not yet. You want me to get on to the crime scene guys?’

‘Yes. Apart from it being a pigsty, from the photographs it looks to me as if he was a hoarder, maybe kept tokens from his victims, so they need to weed out women’s clothing,
jewellery, anything that could link him to the two new cases.’

‘I’ll give them a push to get cracking.’

‘Is Pete Jenkins still at the lab?’

‘Yeah, in fact he’s dealing with our case. You want to talk to him?’

‘Ask him if he could make it a priority for his staff to list and check everything that was taken in. Say I’ll talk to him later today.’

Anna began sorting through the Jordan family statements, thumbing backwards and forwards. Although five years had passed they were, at the time, obviously well off; they had a
large three-storey detached house with a Filipino live-in domestic helper, a gardener, and a cleaner that came in twice a week. Mrs Emily Jordan did not work, but had been an interior designer
before her marriage to Stephen Jordan, a graphic designer. He had offices in Canary Wharf and often worked from home, using the loft conversion as an extended office. Rebekka, their only daughter,
was a day pupil at a private school in Knightsbridge. Her two older brothers had been at boarding school and were not at home when she went missing.

As Anna was wondering how much their family life and relationships had changed since the disappearance of Rebekka, Joan approached her, excitedly waving a piece of paper.

‘I have a contact number and address for Henry Oates’s ex-wife. She is working at a dry-cleaner’s in Glasgow. As for his two daughters, the eldest, aged eighteen, is in drug
rehab and the other, only sixteen, is six months pregnant.’

‘That was fast. Good work.’

‘I spoke with the Department for Work and Pensions and they put me in touch with the Glasgow housing association. Mrs Eileen Oates has a criminal record here in London for prostitution and
drug abuse. It appears she’s now drug-free with no arrests or convictions for nine years.’

‘Thanks, Joan. Did you speak to her personally?’

‘No.’

‘Okay, I’ll do that and in the meantime can you get me a contact number for a DCI on the Glasgow murder squad?’

‘Yes, ma’am.’

Mike Lewis drew up the blinds from his office window and tapped to indicate he wanted to talk to Anna. It irritated her slightly that he couldn’t walk the few steps from
his office to ask her, but crooked a finger instead; it reminded her of the way Langton often did it.

‘You wanted to see me,’ she said, entering Mike’s office without knocking.

He held up the phone, covering the mouthpiece with his hand. ‘It’s Langton, he wants to talk to you.’

‘Oh thank you.’

Mike walked out, closing the door. She sat behind the desk and waited a moment before she spoke into the phone.

‘DCI Travis.’

‘Listen, I’ve just had a lengthy talk to Mike. My feelings are these: it’s a no-brainer the fact they have Oates bang to rights for the murder of Justine Marks.

‘Mike told me about his latest interview with Oates and my take on the bastard is this: the more visits he gets and the more attention we give him, the more he’s going to string us
along. I don’t think he’s mentally unstable and anyway Mike tells me Kumar hasn’t raised the issue of pre-trial psychiatric reports.’