Scarred for Life (5 page)

Dust, fluff, a crusty tissue – ick – some football magazines, a pair of trainers marginally less stinky than the aftershave, and a bong.

Jessica sniffed it but could only get the faint whiff of marijuana. Putting it back where she’d found it, she next tried the bottom drawer of the cabinet next to the bed.

Socks, boxer shorts, a jock-strap – ick – a mucky mag – double ick, didn’t they have the Internet for that nowadays? – a flattened baseball cap.

Middle drawer: pyjamas, red checked lounge pants, a toilet roll, a Mars bar, packet of chewing gum.

Top drawer: more boxer shorts, a belt, two ties, a paperback
Kama Sutra
– seriously? – the back panel of a mobile phone, some batteries, and a small polythene bag containing black, vaguely green, flakes.

Jessica had a sniff and finished checking through the drawer just in case. She then had a poke around the dressing table and wardrobe before convincing herself that the hardest drugs on the premises were as Alistair claimed. She had believed him anyway but it was worth the search.

Back in the kitchen, Jessica could hear Archie’s and Alistair’s voices drifting from the living room. She couldn’t make out the words but they seemed to be having a back-and-forth conversation. In the cupboards were packets of couscous, dried risotto and some fancy seasoning. It was all a far cry from baked beans, Cup-a-Soups and noodles.

Jessica gave it a few moments and then returned to the living room, holding her phone in the air. ‘We’ve got to go,’ she said, looking at Archie. ‘Sorry, Alistair, unless there’s anything else, we need to be elsewhere.’

Alistair exchanged a glance with Archie and then shrugged. ‘I’ve told you everything.’

Back in the car Archie was swaggering as per usual. ‘Come on then,’ Jessica said.

‘He reckons Damon had a girl or two on the go – nothing serious, just a Friday-night fumble. Lucky sod.’

‘He’s not that lucky . . .’

‘Oh right, yes, er, sorry . . .’

‘Any names?’ Jessica asked.

‘I can pass them on to Louise at the station. It didn’t sound like much.’

‘Anything else?’

‘He reckons Damon was popular because he had money and would buy drinks on a night out. It doesn’t feel like he was killed for money, though, does it? If he’d been coked up and robbed, they’d only be able to steal what he had on him because everything else is in his dad’s name or in a bank account. At most they’d have got a few hundred quid, perhaps a thousand if we’re pushing it.’

Jessica agreed – Damon’s financial situation was worth keeping in mind but it didn’t seem like it was a legitimate motive, plus it would be a strange way to kill someone if it was a straight robbery. Why go to the hassle of dumping him at the back of the rowing club?

‘Did you find out why he’s apparently been happier in the past week?’

‘No idea,’ Archie replied with a barely concealed smirk.

‘What?’ Jessica asked.

‘I did find out what he was up to the night before last.’

‘The night he died?’

‘Aye – those rowing jessies were all getting bevvied at that club of theirs.’

6

The rowing club looked significantly different in daylight compared to the night before. What had appeared to be gentle black waves from the river lapping at the shore was in fact a browny liquid clattering into the rocks, with empty beer cans bobbing on the far side of the bank. The grass surrounding the building was muddy and soft, the white front of the clubhouse greyer and dirtier. The bins and their contents had been taken somewhere else for Rowlands, Joy Bag Jane and the rest of the fingertip team to check over. There were wheel marks on the ground where they had been pushed up the slope.

Jessica and Archie headed across the decking towards the front of the clubhouse for her second meeting with the student president.

‘Afternoon, Holden,’ she said, entering the clubhouse and making him spin with such surprise that he almost fell off the stool. As he composed himself, she took a moment to take in the enormous room. Aside from a wall at the far end with one door marked ‘changing rooms’, another labelled ‘office’, and the small bar area in the far corner, the rest of the giant area was given over to a single hall.

‘Nice of you to leave the door open,’ Jessica added, walking towards the bar. Above it was a row of plaques, trophies, medals and certificates. On the wall to the side was a roll of honour, with a list of competitions the club had won.

Holden got up and glanced between Jessica and Archie, waiting for an introduction that she didn’t provide. He had been alone in the large room, using the bar as a table and working on a laptop.

‘There was a bit of cleaning up to do here,’ he said.

Jessica was about to reply when her phone buzzed. It was a text message from Rowlands: ‘The bastards are calling me Bin Boy. Joy Bag’s furious too.’

She could feel Holden watching but Jessica took the time to reply: ‘She’s not going to get any happier if you keep calling her Joy Bag, is she? Stop moaning and find something.’

‘Sorry,’ Jessica said, peering up. ‘Important police business. I arranged to meet you here because I wanted to ask a few more questions about the club’s hierarchy. You’re student president, so what does that let you do?’

Holden’s brow furrowed as he stared at Jessica. His hair was fairer than she’d thought the night before. ‘Am I under arrest?’

‘Why would you be?’

He nodded gently, weighing up the situation. If he wanted to be awkward, then Jessica would happily take him down to the station and caution him. ‘It means I sit on the committee. We decide the competitions we’re going to enter each year, plus deal with various things relating to how we spend our funds. We had to renovate the changing rooms over the winter, plus get a new rowing machine. It’s only a twelve-month position. You take over in June each year, at the end of the summer term. It’s almost always someone doing a post-graduate course.’

‘What are you studying?’

‘An MSc in global management.’

‘Did you do your undergraduate degree here?’

‘Yes.’

‘And you’ve been a member of the club since your first year?’

Holden nodded as Jessica gave Archie a nudge, letting him know he was up.

He peered at the honours board and then addressed Holden. ‘If you’re
student
president, that implies there’s a real president.’

‘There’s a life president, he’s on the committee too. There are ten positions, all voted for except life president.’

‘Who does that role?’

‘James Jefferies.’

Archie shrugged. ‘Who’s that?’

Holden pointed towards a photograph on the wall that showed a slightly wrinkled man next to a boat holding something she couldn’t quite make out. Next to him, Jessica recognised Holden.

‘He won an Olympic bronze medal thirty years ago,’ the student said, grinning.

Archie was having none of it: ‘Bronze medal, eh? Did he fall in or something?’

‘Huh?’

‘Well, if he only won a bronze, what was he doing? Rowing backwards?’

Holden spluttered, eyes wide, staring at Archie. ‘It’s really hard just to qualify for the Olympics, let alone win a medal.’

‘Bollocks is it. I’d be ashamed to come home with anything other than gold.’

Archie wandered up to the honours board and brushed away a speck of dust as Jessica stifled a grin. In the old days, the softening up would’ve been her job. He was like a little pitbull she could let off the leash as and when she chose. Usually, she wouldn’t go in so strong, but given the information Holden had opted not to tell her the previous night, she wasn’t in the best of moods.

‘When you sit on the committee, do you talk about upcoming social events?’ Jessica asked before he could compose himself.

Holden turned back to Jessica, wondering what was going on. ‘I suppose.’

‘And what’s your memory usually like? Can you remember what you had for breakfast earlier?’

‘I didn’t have breakfast.’

‘Aah, but you remember that – and if you recall that, then why didn’t you tell me last night that you, Damon and all the other members of the rowing club were here for a giant piss-up two nights ago?’

As Holden’s eyebrows rose, Jessica could see the penny dropping. ‘It was a busy night,’ he replied, trying to stay cool. ‘I didn’t know if Damon had been at the party and didn’t want to give you wrong information.’

His cheeks puffed out, a sigh of relief that he’d come up with that on the spot.

‘So, was he here or not?’ Jessica snapped.

‘When the news came out about his body this morning, everyone was in shock. Some of the lads were saying that it was only Wednesday night that we saw him last. That jogged my mind.’

Holden smiled unconvincingly. He’d known full well Damon had been at the rowing club’s party on the night he died. When Jessica had seen him the previous evening, she’d known he was holding something back; now his evasion had given her every reason to arrest him.

Jessica peered across to Archie. ‘What is it we usually call this?’

‘Being a knob head?’

‘I was thinking more “obstructing a police officer”.’

Holden was even more confused than before, glancing between Jessica and Archie, trying to work out what was going on. Good, Jessica wanted him sweating. ‘I wasn’t trying to obstruct anything,’ he protested. ‘I’d just forgotten; there were a lot of people here.’

‘How many?’

‘Most of our eighty members, plus some partners, alumni, the committee – at least a hundred and fifty.’

‘Do you have a list of attendees?’

‘Our membership secretary might.’

‘Good – I’m going to need those details.’

‘Right, I can—’

‘What do you remember about seeing Damon on Wednesday night?’

Sometimes silence worked, making the witness or suspect fill the awkward gaps, but Holden was too calculating; the best method was to keep firing questions at him.

‘Not much. It was a big black-tie thing – suits and cocktail dresses. We hold one every November because that’s when our membership has settled with the new recruits – once they’ve decided they’re committed. We hold another one at the end of the university year.’

‘That’s not what I asked.’

‘Right, right, I . . . I assume he was looking smart. We all were.’

That tallied with the shirt and dark trousers in which his body was found, so Holden wasn’t lying about everything.

‘Was he here with anyone?’

‘I’m not sure. I don’t think so. A lot of the rowing teams tend to keep to themselves – I didn’t spend any time with him. People started drifting away after a couple of hours. I think he left.’

‘Did he or didn’t he?’

‘I’m not sure. Some of the others might know. I was here all night.’

Archie jumped in without being asked: ‘I suppose you’ve got witnesses? Someone who’ll tell us you spent the evening knocking back girly cocktails?’

‘Well . . .’

‘This is quite a big club,’ Jessica said. ‘What else do you do here? It can’t just be rowing and posh parties?’

‘We hire it out now and then—’

‘I was thinking more about the two separate date rape allegations against club members from the past eighteen months.’

Holden’s eyes narrowed and he glanced around nervously at the empty surroundings. He was shrinking in front of her, clearly wishing he’d got out while he could. ‘Both of those were unproven with the charges dropped.’

Jessica turned to Archie, who had taken a sheaf of papers from a cardboard wallet and was sorting through them. ‘Aye, but what about the three call-outs for public disorder in the past three years?’

‘I wasn’t president for any of those. We’ve been adhering to rules about noise and sticking to the curfew.’

Archie moved to the next sheet. ‘One of your members ended up in hospital with hypothermia last year.’

‘He was training on his own on the water! How were we supposed to know?’

Archie moved to the next sheet but Jessica cut him off. ‘The fact is, Mr Wyatt, there’s a disturbing pattern here: complaints about noise and mess, a serious medical incident, date rape allegations and now a murder. All apparent accidents, all connected to the club you’re running. Things are spiralling out of control, aren’t they?’

Holden opened his mouth to reply and then stopped, drawing himself back up to his full height. Archie puffed his chest out and splayed his legs slightly, as if gearing up for a good old-fashioned ruck on Deansgate. Jessica looked from one man to the other, feeling the testosterone. Holden towered over the constable but Jessica wouldn’t have wanted to guess who’d come out on top if it ever came to it. Not that it would.

‘None of those earlier things happened while I was president,’ Holden said calmly. ‘Whatever happened to Damon is unfortunate – but I was here and I’m pretty sure he left halfway through the evening. I don’t know what happened after that. If you’re unsure then perhaps you should go and do some
proper
police work.’

Jessica let the silence hang for a moment, hoping Archie wouldn’t jump in. When he didn’t, she felt even more confident that he really did know what he was doing. She stared at Holden, who held her gaze defiantly. ‘I’m going to need a full list of all current and former members of this club,’ she eventually said.

Holden shook his head. ‘Those details don’t exist.’

‘I thought you said the membership secretary would know who was at the party?’

‘That was different – it was a ticketed event, so we would have kept track. We’ll have the current members but nothing other than that. I think you’ll find there are data protection laws anyway.’

He rocked back on his heels, the hesitation of before now gone. The smug bastard.

Archie started flicking through the folder again and handed Jessica a printout without her having to look at him.

‘One of my colleagues found this on the university website this morning,’ she said, beginning to read. ‘“For clubs to be able to use the official university seal, or to be eligible for loans, bursaries or grants, they must securely keep full membership lists of all current and former members for a minimum of ten years, or for the length of time the club has been in operation. Said details must be provided to the university upon written request within seventy-two hours.”’ Jessica looked back up at Holden, wide-eyed and innocent. ‘Didn’t you tell me last night that some of your funding came from the university?’