‘Christ, how many do you think the scumbag has killed?’
Barbara tapped on the door with a message from the forensic lab. Pete Jenkins had found no prints on the windows and doors of the wrecked Jeep but had decided to try the driver’s seat adjuster as it would have been reasonably protected from the fire and from the wind and rain over the last five years. He had recovered prints of a middle and right index finger matching Henry Oates’s, and they were now going to search the Jeep for traces of blood. Langton swore, passing the report to Mike. He had hoped for some evidence that Rebekka had been in the vehicle. All this meant was that Oates had stolen a car and dumped it at the chalk quarry.
Anna walked around the car park, smoking a cigarette from the pack in the glove compartment of her Mini. She didn’t smoke on a regular basis, but sometimes she just felt she needed one and this was one of those times. After stubbing it out she went back into the station and to the Ladies’. Barbara was there and passed on the information from Pete Jenkins.
‘You were right then about him using it with false plates,’ Barbara said.
‘I guess I was.’
‘They’re also bringing up some cold cases that may be connected to the box of stuff taken from Oates’s basement.’
‘Dear God, how many?’
‘Two, and then the bracelet belonging to Angela makes it three, but nothing has been confirmed. We have to get verification from all the case files of missing items.’
‘I’d better get back,’ Anna said, drying her hands.
‘You had lunch?’ Barbara asked as she herself was leaving.
‘Not hungry, thanks.’
Alone, Anna rested her hands on the sink, staring at herself in the mirror; she looked tired. Taking out a comb she undid the elastic band holding her hair in a ponytail. She replaced the band, drawing her hair tightly away from her face, then she opened her make-up bag, ran a powder puff over her nose and cheeks, and added some lip gloss. She still looked ashen-faced so she rubbed her finger over the top of the lip gloss and added a little to her cheeks for colour.
Mike was standing in the corridor in the throes of a heated discussion with Adan Kumar. As Anna approached the solicitor stormed off into the interview room, slamming the door behind him.
‘What’s up with him?’
‘Annoyed about the lack of full disclosure, said we only gave him some new stuff on the Marks case. I reminded him we decide when and what we want to disclose, not him. Anyway, forget Kumar, you all set?’
‘Yes, and I’ve heard the good news about the finger-prints.’
‘After you,’ he said to Anna and opened the interview-room door.
Anna returned to her seat, Mike beside her. Kumar, sitting opposite, opened his notebook. They all turned to the door as the heavy footsteps sounded on the stone flags, then Oates entered the room.
‘Sit back in the same chair, do I?’
‘Yes please, Mr Oates.’
Mike reminded him that he was still under caution, and the cameras and recorder were started up as he gave the time the interview was resuming and who was present.
‘I had steak and kidney pie, mashed potatoes, carrots and gravy and a custard tart,’ Oates announced.
‘I’m glad you enjoyed it,’ Anna said
‘I never said I did – it was horrible, prison food’s better. Did it come from your canteen?’
‘I believe so.’
‘What did you have?’
‘Sandwiches and coffee.’
‘What was in them?’
‘Mr Oates, can we continue the interview, please,’ she said quietly, as Mike placed onto the table the Rebekka Jordan file.
‘Just making conversation,’ Oates said, disgruntled.
Rather than go down the usual route of displaying photographs and asking if the suspect knew the victim, Mike and Anna had discussed presenting the bulk of evidence they had accumulated.
They kicked off with the discovery of the doll’s head and leg found in his basement, explaining that these had been identified as belonging to the young girl who went missing five years previously.
‘Rebekka Jordan,’ Oates said.
‘Correct.’
‘I remember that case, which was why I brought it up when I was arrested.’
‘Because you did, Mr Oates, we began an extensive enquiry.’
‘Read about it in the papers.’
‘I am sure you did – it was a very big media story, the missing girl was only thirteen years old.’
‘Why I remembered it, but it had nothin’ to do with me.’
‘How did the pieces of doll get into your basement flat?’
‘I don’t know – in fact, how do I know you didn’t put them there? I told you last time you’d try and fit me up.’
Anna continued to talk, quietly giving details of the Andrew Markham connection, showing that they knew that Oates had been in the Jordans’ garden, and that they had confirmation that Oates had been to the Markhams’ house on two occasions: once to help unload bricks and the other two weeks later when he cleaned out the septic tank.
Oates nodded and then leaned towards Anna.
‘You’ve put fresh make-up on.’
‘Yes, that is correct. I knew I’d be coming back to talk to you and I also combed my hair, very observant of you.’
‘You look better than you did earlier.’
‘Thank you.’
Mike brought up the subject of the stolen Jeep, but Oates gave no reaction and concentrated on staring at Anna.
‘We have your prints from the stolen vehicle,’ Mike told him.
Kumar tapped the table, saying he had not been given this information, and Mike replied that they had only just heard it themselves.
‘What is the connection between my client and this Jeep?’
‘We believe that your client abducted Miss Jordan using this stolen vehicle.’
Oates shook his head, smiling.
‘So I nicked the Jeep, I admit it, but they’re lousy things to drive, and it wasn’t automatic, I like automatic cars. I just dumped it along the A3 somewhere and I left the keys in the ignition so who knows who nicked it after I done.’
‘We discovered your hidden box of jewellery and are checking it out right now. I bet we find that the items belonged to women who have been reported missing.’
‘Rubbish, I get that stuff off car boot sales. Is there any murder you might have missed that you think I done?’
Anna smiled. ‘A lot, a lot more, Mr Oates.’
Mike felt her nudge him under the table and he let her take the lead.
‘How do you get along with your neighbours across the way?’
‘Oh, swift change of subject, right? Getting nowhere with the Jeep, right? Well I get along just fine.’
‘You clean their car, don’t you?’
‘Yes, ma’am, I do. I also, as you probably know, helped the old geezer put his gate posts up, mixed the cement.’
‘Do you know you scared Mrs Murphy?’
‘What, me? Never, I hardly had two words with her, gimme a cup of tea and biscuits, but God forbid they asked me inside their house. She’s got polishing mania, that woman, the brass strip of her doorstep is like glass.’
‘She said she thought she had seen a ghost, all white and walking down the road at two o’clock in the morning; frightened the life out of her and she told her husband. He said she was dreaming, must have been the way the lights were shining.’
Oates laughed, nodding his head.
‘Yeah, right. He asked me about it – funny, he said she was scared I was a fucking ghost, right, but it was just-’
He pulled back and wagged his finger.
‘Fuck me, you nearly made me say something then, didn’t you?’
‘Like what?’
‘That I was covered in chalk dust.’ He wafted his hand and then laughed again.