‘I need to talk to you about this man. Do you know him?’
Timmy jumped to his feet as his mother called to him from the doorway. He swung open the door and took the tray from her.
‘Thank you, Ma. Now just leave us for a minute, will you?’
He fussed around with the tray, which did have a lace-`edged cloth, with a silver teapot and matching milk jug, and a plate of plain biscuits. The cups and saucers matched and were covered in roses.
He poured a cup for Anna and passed it to her and then offered the biscuits. He didn’t pour a cup for himself or take a biscuit, but reached over for the picture of Henry Oates.
‘Henry, yeah I know him, or I used to know him well. Long time ago now when I was boxing at the club in Bethnal Green. I’ve got a deviated septum, used to bleed like a stuck pig at the smallest tap. Gave it up, had to, but I used to train and spar with him, even fought him in the London Boys Club Championships. He was a tough little bastard – excuse me – but Henry was a good athlete, had a lot of potential.’
He handed the photographs back to Anna. ‘When did you last see him?’
Timmy shook his head and then leaned back.
‘Maybe seven years ago, bumped into him at York Hall watching the ABA championships. He still looked fuckedup – excuse me, sorry. I knew his last ever fight had been a real hard one, but he was the type that wouldn’t go down. Even his corner man wanted to throw the towel in, but he boxed on, got smashed up badly.’
‘Was he still boxing when you last saw him?’
‘No, he’d given it up a good few years before, looked like he’d hit the bottom, drunk out of his skull. I was never close to him. To be honest I didn’t think anyone was really. He’d got a chip on his shoulder the size of a boulder. Mind you, rumour had it that he’d got involved with a wrong ’un.’
‘Who do you mean?’
‘His wife.’
‘Eileen?’
‘I didn’t know her name, and this is all what was repeated to me. He married her because she said she was pregnant – you know, he done the decent thing.’
‘He was very abusive towards her, wasn’t he?’
‘I wouldn’t know, but what I was told was that he thought the kid wasn’t his. Had the look of a darkie.’
‘So you didn’t know that as a fact?’
‘She put it about a bit for cash, you know, on the game, they said, and again I’m only repeating what I heard, but apparently he only found out about her other job after he’d married her. She denied it, said he was definitely the father, but he was never sure. I mean, it could have been anyone’s.’
‘Did he find out? Do a DNA test, anything like that?’
Timmy shrugged. He remembered that Henry had gone to Liverpool to find his mother so he could get a passport, but he had never caught up with the rest of the story.
‘Do you recall the man who trained Henry, perhaps an ex-boxer?’
‘Oh I know who you mean, old Mr Radcliff, yeah, yeah, he was a great character. He took Henry in to live with him. He’d been one of the best all-rounders forty years before, but got busted for doing illegal fights.’
‘He died while the club was on tour?’
‘Florida, yeah, I was there, big heart attack ringside. The rest of the tour went ahead though, in his memory, like, and they shipped him back with us. I remember the funeral, big turnout, Henry was there. I think it hit him very hard, especially not being with him when it happened. Radcliff was sort of like a surrogate dad to him, to all the kids, but after he was gone it meant Henry had no place to live and he’d doss down anywhere he could. To be honest…’
Timmy frowned and then cracked his knuckles.
‘Remember that fight I told you about, when he took a lot of punishment? It was after, I think, after old Mr Radcliff had died. When I say he wouldn’t go down I mean it. Talk about a “Raging Bull” episode. He was totally outclassed and was walking into the punches, leaning on the ropes and then holding on as the punches hammered into him; then he dropped his fists and bam! Hard right and he was down and out for the count.’
‘Go on.’
Timmy made a broad gesture, and said that it had to have been a while after that he was told Henry had given up, but that more than that the boxing had done his head in by the time he was in his late twenties.
‘Punch-drunk, they said, not that I believe in all that stuff. He was always a bit of a nutter. There was a fighter called Ira, heavyweight, lot of people in the business reckoned he’d go all the way.’
‘Ira Zacks?’
‘Yeah, that’s right, Ira Zacks. We was all at the same club together in the East End. It was him that told me, said he’d seen Henry wandering around like a dosser.’
‘So Ira Zacks knew Henry Oates well?’
‘I dunno about that. I’m just telling you what he told me.’
Anna put her cup and saucer back onto the tray.
‘Would you like a refill?’
‘No, thank you, you have been really helpful.’
Anna stood up as Timmy jumped to his feet.
‘You mind me asking, what’s he done? Something bad?’
‘Yes, he’s been charged with murder.’
‘His wife?’
‘No, not his wife. Thank you very much for your time, Timmy.’
‘No problem. I’ve got a lot of that right now, time.’ Anna headed towards the door, Timmy moving quickly to open it.
‘Have you ever married?’ she asked him.
‘Once. Didn’t work out so not tried it again.’
He opened the door as his mother appeared. ‘Are you going?’
‘Yes. Thank you for the tea and biscuits, Mrs Douglas.’
‘My pleasure.’
The old lady went to collect the tea tray as Timmy opened the front door. Anna noticed she had changed into a smart dress with a pearl necklace and earrings.
Timmy jerked his head towards his mother.
‘She’s gone and got all dressed up for you. God forbid she’d go out at all, got me running errands all day for her. Anyways, you know where I am if you need me again.’
‘Yes I do. I hope things work out for you, Timmy.’
‘So do I. I hope you don’t mind me saying this, but you are a very pretty woman.’
‘Thank you.’
Anna returned to her car and sat for a while. Starting up the engine, she wondered just how much of a liar Eileen had been. Timmy’s version of her life with Oates was very different from the one she had described. The composite picture of Henry Oates’s background could almost make someone feel sorry for him. However, the brutal murder of Justine Marks left little room for compassion. But she still had no new evidence that implicated him in the disappearance of Rebekka Jordan. The team was moving ahead with the Fidelis Julia Flynn case, whilst she languished behind. She knew if she didn’t come up with something soon to connect Oates to Rebekka’s abduction and murder, the investigation would return to the cold case files.
Anna headed from Kingston towards Lambeth and the forensic lab, keeping to the south side of the river, and arrived just before twelve. As she headed down the corridor towards Pete Jenkins’ office she couldn’t fail to notice a big display of pink balloons floating up to the ceiling, with messages of congratulations attached by pink ribbons. It made her wish she’d stopped off and bought something for his baby, even though Mike had promised to organize flowers from them all.
Pete was surrounded by his team. They had a bottle of champagne open and there were even more balloons. He was still wearing his overcoat so Anna presumed he had arrived just ahead of her.
‘Anna!’ he called out, opening his arms and giving her a bear hug.
‘How’s Matilda?’
‘Brilliant. She’s gorgeous. Let me show you.’
Pete went over to a computer that already featured a picture of his baby. She had a shock of thick black curls, but was so tiny and with so many tubes attached it was hard to really see her little red face and her eyes were closed.