Behind Closed Doors (Season One: Book 7) (Jessica Daniel) (25 page)

‘Jan Lewis,’ Charley said.

‘Who?’

‘You might know him as Moses.’

Jessica started saying how he was a great person, writing one single word on the pad and underlining it.
Shit.

Charley tore the page off, pocketing it again. ‘Sophie Lewis?’ she asked.

‘Who?’

‘Zipporah, Moses’s wife.’

‘Oh, she’s lovely,’ Jessica said, writing:
Beaten? Bruises, marks, etc.

By Moses?
Charley wrote.

Jessica shrugged, writing:
Moses / Glenn
.

‘We’ve got someone here named “Glenn”,’ Charley said. ‘We don’t have a last name but he’s married to someone named Naomi.’

‘Who?’ Jessica replied again, her stock response. Charley seemed confused, before Jessica added: ‘Oh, I think I know who you mean. There’s someone who runs the outdoors
bit called Glenn but he doesn’t seem to be too important.’

‘That’s what everyone’s been saying.’

Jessica took the pad, writing:
Moses + Glenn = ??? He wants you to think Glenn is unimportant.

Charley nodded to say she understood. ‘How about his wife?’

‘I’ve only seen Naomi at mealtimes,’ Jessica replied, pointing to the words ‘Beaten’, then ‘Moses / Glenn’ on the pad. Aloud, she added: ‘His wife
is lovely. She sits opposite me at breakfast and dinner. Everyone really likes her.’

Charley was still nodding, slotting the pieces into place. She beckoned for the pen, writing:
Greenhouse?

Jessica shook her head.

‘I’d love to say you’ve been helpful,’ Charley said out loud, ‘but I’m not sure that’s been the case. Everyone seems to have the exact same thing to
say.’

‘Perhaps that’s because there’s nothing for you to be looking into?’

Charley tapped the pen on the pad – pointing at the word ‘Beaten’, then writing
Zipporah / Naomi
next to it.

‘If you have anything else to tell us about this . . .’

Jessica shook her head.

Charley again removed the page, writing at the top of the new one:
We can raid for DV
.

Jessica tried to figure out how they could get a warrant based solely on that but then remembered receiving an email about new legislation for domestic violence protection when she had been in
the station. They had updates on a monthly basis and most of them were instantly forgotten, simply because there were so many. Jessica always assumed someone above her would know enough about
whichever law it was that had been changed that week but that particular email had stuck in her mind because it was something she felt so strongly about.

She presumed Charley had read it properly and nodded.

No proof
, Jessica wrote, indicating towards the long sleeves on Charley’s jacket to imply that the women covered up.

Charley clearly understood, leaning forward to pull the pad back but Jessica added to it quickly:
Why not raid now? Wayne’s dead
.

She pushed it across the table to Charley, who pointed to the words ‘No proof’.

‘Well, Miss, Ms, or Mrs Compton, whatever your name may be, you’ve been thoroughly unhelpful.’

‘At least I’ve got a proper name, Charley, Charlotte, Charles, or whatever your name may be.’

Charley smiled. ‘Let me lead you out,’ she said, stepping around the table and placing a hand on Jessica’s shoulder. She leant in whispering, ‘You’re doing
great’, and then opened the door, sending Jessica out into the main hall where Moses was sitting, knees crossed, a fixed, firm stare on his face.

‘Have you finished harassing enough young women for one day?’ Moses asked, addressing Charley, although Jessica thought it was quite something coming from him.

Charley stayed calm in the way Jessica rarely could when someone was aggressive to her. ‘I did assure you, Mr Lewis, that we would be utterly respectful to you, your house, and everyone
who lives here.’

‘This is the second time you’ve been here recently, upsetting people. I’ve allowed you in both times even though I have no obligation to do so.’

‘We’ve been here twice because we’ve found two bodies, each with connections to this community. I am incredibly grateful you have allowed us such freedom, especially without
the need of solicitors this time, and know it must be difficult for everyone here. All I can say is that I really hope we are able to get to the bottom of what happened to both Liam and Wayne.
I’m sure that is high on your list of priorities too, seeing how valued they were around here.’

Moses acted with the same assured calm he did when he was addressing the residents, opening his arms slightly to indicate how approachable he was. ‘Some notice next time would be
nice.’

‘I would love to do that, Mr Lewis, but we don’t seem to have a phone number on record for you. Without that, I’m not sure how much notice you would like.’

‘Outside communications are not permitted here.’

Charley nodded shortly, indicating towards the officer who had been waiting in the doorway of the breakfast room. ‘Are you finished?’ she asked.

‘Yes.’

‘In that case, we will leave you be, Mr Lewis. Phone or no phone, feel free to contact us if you think of anything else. We’re based in the centre, I’m sure you know where.
Normal office hours apply.’

With a final, ‘Thank you for your time, Ms Compton,’ Charley spun and headed towards the front door, half-a-dozen officers falling in behind her, each glancing back nervously towards
Moses.

Jessica could not bring herself to look at Moses again, so she turned, heading through the corridor towards the stairs before he could say anything.

As she reached the first floor, Zipporah was rounding the corner, about to head downstairs. They each took a step back, apologising for nearly bumping into each other. Close up, with the
sunlight beaming through the window next to them, Zipporah’s bruises looked so much worse. There was a cut above her eye that had only partially healed. She had tried to cover it with make-up
but the outline was clear. The curve of her eye socket was a jaundiced yellow, her earlobe flattened and purple. She was even holding her left arm at a slight angle across herself. Having been in a
few rough situations herself and not come off well, Jessica knew it was a sure sign that she was carrying an injury, probably in her upper arm.

‘Are you all right?’ Jessica asked.

Zipporah pursed her lips, her eyes flicking across Jessica as she weighed up how best to respond. Jessica could see a thin but probably painful split along the centre of Zipporah’s top
lip. The blood had dried but the mark was still clear.

‘It’s just a bump,’ she replied, glancing away nervously.

Jessica hadn’t made it clear she was referring to the injuries, so the fact Zipporah brought it up told her all she needed to know about what was on the woman’s mind.

‘You can tell me if there’s a problem,’ Jessica said carefully. She realised it was a risk but Moses’s advances and veiled threats made her more determined than ever to
get things finished at the house as soon as possible.

Her worst fear that Zipporah would recoil and run to Moses was instantly dispelled as the woman stayed put, first peering listlessly past Jessica out of the window and then making eye
contact.

‘It’s not as simple as you think.’

‘It’s just talking.’

‘Sometimes words can be dangerous, Jessica. We have to be careful about what we say and who we say it to.’

Jessica wondered what she meant. Was it a warning that other people could be listening to this conversation? Or did it come from fear that whatever was happening in her marriage would get worse
if she spoke about it?

Before she could reply, Zipporah spoke again: ‘If it was simply talking, it would have to be a mutual thing . . .’

Jessica had told Zipporah much of her story about losing the baby and her father – it was how she had got into the house – but she had kept things back too. Was it that obvious?

The thought flashed through her mind that this was the opportunity to tell Zipporah about why she was really there. Perhaps Zipporah herself would reciprocate, giving Jessica and Charley
everything they needed to end this operation once and for all.

‘What would we talk about?’ Jessica asked, knowing she sounded unsure.

‘It was your idea.’

Jessica so wanted to pull Zipporah into a side room and tell her everything. She wanted to leave, she didn’t want to have to look at Moses, let alone risk him touching her again.
Everything that had gone wrong since she’d lost the baby came down to how little she trusted other people. Even Adam was a poor second when it came to backing anyone over herself. Surely the
time had come for her to put her faith in someone? She could see it in Zipporah’s face: an eagerness to end this, to return to the life she must have once had before her husband poisoned
it.

Jessica couldn’t continue to hold her eye. ‘I should really go back to my room,’ she said, hating herself for not being able to put trust above her instincts. The same instinct
that had brought her to this house in the first place.

‘As you wish.’

Jessica stepped around Zipporah towards the final staircase just as the sun dipped behind a cloud. The landing was flushed by a dim greyness, shadowing the woman’s injuries as Jessica
walked away wondering if she had just turned her back on a woman in need.

Jessica sat in the bedroom with Heather, watching the empty driveway from the window.

‘Do you know what the plan is for the rest of the day?’ she asked, not expecting an answer.

‘You shouldn’t ask questions,’ Heather said irritably.

Jessica didn’t reply, feeling more and more alienated.

‘Sorry,’ Heather added after a few moments. ‘I hated being in the room with those people. They were talking at me. Talking, talking, talking. Asking about things I don’t
know, trying to persuade me to leave.’

Jessica doubted that was true. When she turned to face Heather, she sensed something wasn’t right. Earlier, Heather had been genuinely scared, cradling her own body and rocking herself.
This time, she was saying similar words but her body language was different: perched on the edge of her bed, attentive and carefully watching her.

‘You’re still here though,’ Jessica replied.

‘You too.’

Jessica had interviewed enough people to know when a person was unsure how to phrase a leading question. It usually came when someone was denying something but couldn’t speak quickly
enough to get their words out. Heather was different, starting a sentence, stopping herself in the middle and then stumbling over the words before repeating the exact thing she had tried not to
blurt out.

‘What was it like for you in there?’ Heather eventually asked.

Jessica could hardly tell the truth about her relationship with Charley but what was far more worrying was that it was clear Heather was asking on behalf of someone else. Given her obvious love
of Moses, it was most likely him. This room was Jessica’s one respite from the rest of the house; now she knew she couldn’t even count on that.

‘It was fine,’ Jessica replied.

‘What did they ask you about?’

Heather’s eyes flickered all around the room – anywhere except near Jessica. She could not have been a worst choice as a source of information. The only good thing was that it
indicated the interview hadn’t been bugged after all.

‘Just about Wayne,’ Jessica said. ‘They wanted to know what I’d seen and how much I knew about him.’

‘What did you say?’

Jessica thought about inventing something outrageous to see who it would end up getting back to but realised it was a dangerous game to play, seeing as she was almost a prisoner here.

‘I said I didn’t know very much. That I’d only met him once or twice and then he left. What did you say?’

Jessica couldn’t resist turning the question around so she could watch the other woman squirm a little. She didn’t appreciate being spied upon and she didn’t like having to
permanently be on edge, especially in the one room where she was supposed to feel safe.

Heather stumbled over her reply but Jessica knew she couldn’t trust her any longer and was relieved she hadn’t asked her if she had ever heard of the greenhouse. If she had, it would
have got straight back to whoever now had her interrogating Jessica.

As Jessica lay on her bed, feeling tired even though she hadn’t done much, she realised that either Moses or Glenn – or both – were suspicious of her. Somehow she had to find
out everything Charley needed her to without arousing any more suspicion.

Jessica had the bedroom to herself. Heather had been called away to work in the craft area now the police had left but the call had not come for her. She could have felt
paranoid that she was being left out but chose to believe it was because of the teeming rain, keeping the outside workers indoors.

Partly because she was struggling to think her way around the events of the morning, Jessica had barely left her bed. She lay listening to the steady drumbeat of rain against the window,
drifting in and out of sleep, trying to think of a way she could get into the basement and wondering what and where the greenhouse could be.

Her muddled mind misheard the knock at the door the first time, confusing it with the rain. It was louder the second time, the thump of fist on wood shaking her out of her daydream back into the
present. Her first fear was that it was Moses returning but as she swung her legs off the bed, she quickly realised he wouldn’t have bothered knocking.

Ali had half-turned to walk away when Jessica opened the door. ‘Oh, it’s you,’ he said, before correcting himself. ‘Sorry, I was looking for Heather.’

‘She was called down to the work room an hour or so ago.’

‘Oh right, of course. I assumed because we were off that everyone was.’

Jessica shrugged. ‘I thought we were staying inside because it was raining. I’ve been waiting for someone to come and get me.’

Ali was bobbing awkwardly from one foot to the other. ‘How are you, er, doing with it all?’ he asked. Unlike Heather, he appeared to be just nervous, rather than trying to
cross-examine her.