‘Is she on a lot of medication?’ asked Tucker.
‘My thoughts exactly. Her pupils were black pinpoints, she was puffy around the eyes. She must be on some doctor’s repeat prescription list,’ Carter said.
‘If she’s gone too far down the medication road, she will find it hard to change her circumstances or leave.’
‘They have just the threads of a relationship left. They’re like a rotten tooth hanging on by the roots,’ Carter said.
‘So, it’s all about the money.’ Robbo went over to Pam – she handed him a folder. Robbo spread the content out on the desk.
‘Here we have the only three properties that we think Ellerman has purchased. We have some deeds that Carter found in Ellerman’s office.’
‘Good work.’ Tucker winked. ‘Is “found” a loose term?’
‘His wife left us alone in there – we took photos,’ said Willis. ‘But we needed more time to go through it all.’
‘Two of these properties are located in the centre of a large town and the other is on its outskirts. Bearing in mind that Ellerman is supposed to specialize in renovating rural farmhouses, these purchased buildings are nothing like that. One is a commercial property right in the middle of Málaga, the second is a flat in a block on the beach and the third is a large property in a touristy area towards Marbella. As far as I can see, there is no renovation to be done.’
‘You said there were texts to Olivia and Harding from a number without a contact name?’ said Tucker. ‘When you were in Ellerman’s office, did you see any evidence of spare phones?’
‘No, but he could have a wallet full of SIM cards, couldn’t he?’
‘Pam, you have the list of women narrowed down now?’
‘Yes; if we start with these then widen the net. These are the women he sees regularly. The list is getting smaller now. It did include Olivia, Gillian and Lisa. Now I have added Dr Harding because she has come back into it. Or rather, she is in both camps – the ones he sees once in a blue moon and the ones who are of interest now. We still don’t know who wrote the letter but it’s being analysed for typeface and printer-ink type. We’re waiting for the results. We have an expert looking at the language used, the length of sentences and so on. They have asked us to get a voice recording of all the women who it could possibly be, as much as we can, and then they will compare the language.’
‘Yeah – I’ve made a start on that,’ said Willis.
‘Have you dug anything up on any of the women?’ asked Tucker.
‘Yes,’ answered Pam. ‘Paula has some convictions in her past. There is some interesting history on Megan Penarth. You went to see her, didn’t you?’
‘Yes. She looks a lot like she stepped out of the cast of a King Arthur film – masses of black and silver hair. I made some enquiries at the local pub after I left her that afternoon. You know – how great it must be to have an artist living in their village, that kind of thing. They didn’t seem too keen on her. They liked her husband better, by the sound of it. He died of cancer. It was a long battle, I think. There was talk of assisted suicide.’
‘We need to go back to the village and find out more,’ said Carter. ‘We’ll go and talk to her again, and the other women. Pam, keep looking into all their pasts.’
‘I still don’t get why the killer chose the hostel to pick Toffee from. It’s got to be an area he knows well. People would have noticed a stranger hanging around, talking to the men there. He must be someone they see all the time. Did you confiscate the PCs from the hostel?’
‘Yes, they’re being examined now.’
‘When does Toffee come round?’ asked Tucker.
‘It will take a few more days, the doctors say,’ answered Carter.
‘Better double the guard on his room,’ said Robbo. ‘The gang are becoming a real problem now. Ever since the dog chewed up Balik’s grandfather.’
When they finished their meeting with Robbo and the team, Tucker, Carter and Willis headed to the canteen to get some lunch.
‘You know, Tucker, this woman can eat me and you under the table,’ Carter said as they walked.
She shook her head. ‘It’s not true.’
‘You must burn it off,’ said Tucker. ‘There’s nothing on you.’
‘Athletic genes,’ she answered, and Carter looked at her and then raised an eyebrow, stopped walking. She shook her head.
‘We’ll get some lunch then hit the road,’ said Carter. ‘We have Emily Porter to see first, in Taunton, then we’ll head down to see what Megan Penarth has to say and come back up to Reading for Paula Seymour again.’
‘Can we do it all in a day?’ asked Tucker.
‘No, we’ll grab a razor and a toothbrush from somewhere on the way and we’ll get a Travelodge tonight. Is that a problem?’
‘No, absolutely not. I’ll leave the car here, pick it up next time.’
After lunch, they took Carter’s car and drove through central London. It took an hour before they joined the M4 headed towards the South West.
Two and a half hours later, at 4 p.m., the three detectives parked up in the visitors’ car park at Prince’s School in Taunton and headed into the reception area. They waited there whilst a sixth-former went to fetch Emily Porter, whose classes were just coming to an end for the day.
Carter introduced himself discreetly.
He thought that whilst Emily didn’t look surprised to see the detectives, Willis couldn’t help but compare the women on Ellerman’s list – she saw Emily like Harding: athletic and wiry, guarded and aloof.
‘Do you have a room we can use to have a chat?’ Carter asked. Emily looked towards the receptionist for approval. She nodded.
‘Um… Yes. We have a room next door we can use,’ Emily said, trying to smile, but it didn’t quite come off. ‘Tea?’
‘Yes, please.’
Emily asked the receptionist to bring tea and they went into a study to have some privacy. It was a light room, sparsely furnished, and felt like a doctor’s waiting room. Outside, it was already dark. Emily went across to pull the curtains on the two bay windows.
She strode over and sat down, bolt upright, legs to one side, slightly uncomfortable-looking in her tweed pencil skirt. Willis looked at her shoes – they were shiny court shoes – highly polished.
Willis surreptitiously switched on her recorder and placed it on the table, out of sight. She was hoping Emily would think it was her phone and not ask. They needed a sample of her voice, to see if they could match its style to the person who wrote the letter. Willis was working Emily Porter out. She was studying the way Emily held herself, the way she answered questions. Carter would start by asking her the basics so that Willis could establish a baseline of behaviour.
‘Thanks for sparing us some time, we just have a few questions for you.’
‘Yes, okay… um. Please take a seat. Tea will be coming in a few minutes.’
‘This is a great-looking school,’ said Carter. ‘Have you worked here long?’
‘Ten years.’
‘It must be very rewarding.’
‘Yes, it is.’
‘Do you have children of your own?’
‘Um… No, I don’t.’
‘I bet it puts you off when you’ve got so many here to look after. This is a boarding school, isn’t it?’
‘It’s both a day school and term-time boarding.’
‘You’re known as Mrs Porter here? Were you married at one time?’
‘Yes, I was. Um… I kept my married name. I got used to it and they already knew me as that here. I didn’t see the point in changing it back.’
‘And do you live near here in the grounds?’
‘I live in a house in the middle of Taunton.’
‘How does that work out for you? Is Taunton a lively place in the evenings?’