As Sammy had warned, they were not in any kind of order and Jack fast-forwarded through the entire file for the past four years. He was eager to talk to Ridley to find out the names of the two women he had dated before Sandra, but he was concerned about contacting him at his home. Ridley had told him that he would call when he could have a safe conversation with him.
He eventually found the photograph of Sandra Raynor, and could see all her details. He had to admit she did look very attractive, but Jack now knew her youthful appearance was as fake as her CV.
He inserted the second stick, hoping it would be the male applicants. Instead, it contained details of the company finances, client charges, rates, rent and tax documents along with VAT. It all appeared to be properly organised and straightforward, but Jack was taken aback by the amount the agency charged, as well as the finance details their clients agreed to submit. Most of them were reasonably well off, but some were very wealthy. He ploughed on, searching for anything that looked illegal, but it all seemed to be very much above board; Eva Shay had been an accountant, after all. When he looked into the agency’s bank details, there were three separate accounts. One assigned to the company, then separate accounts for Eva Shay and Mrs Da Costa.
The two women paid themselves a reasonable salary, but, again, there did not seem to be anything that stood out as suspicious, until he looked through Eva Shay’s personal account with Barclays. Two large cash sums had been paid in, one for just over £20,000 and a second deposit for over £25,000. Both deposits were then transferred to a bank in Monaco. The dates of the deposits matched the time Ridley told him he had joined the agency. He double-checked Mrs Da Costa’s account and saw that both women had savings amounting to £30,000 in their UK accounts, while the agency had £22,000. He wondered if Eva Shay was transferring cash without Mrs Da Costa’s knowledge.
Maggie knocked on the door and entered with a mug of coffee. Jack spun round in his chair.
‘I always know when you don’t want me to see what you’re working on! It must be something interesting because you almost jumped when I walked in.’
Jack laughed.
‘Is it about Rodney Middleton?’
‘No, it’s for Ridley. How I’ve got this information is a bit dodgy, so I’m a little paranoid.’
‘I hope you’re taking precautions. You’re working on this outside the station, aren’t you?’
‘Yes, and I’m being as careful as I can. I’m just checking out the dating agency Ridley joined at the moment.’
‘I’m still amazed that he did that, but then you never really know people the way you think you know them.’
Jack sipped his coffee and rocked back and forth in his desk chair.
‘I’m sure he was set up. But I have no idea how or why. Without being able to discuss anything with him, I feel as though I am sort of working blind.’
‘I bet you any money it will be connected to some old case, somebody with a big grudge against him; perhaps someone just out of prison, or something like that.’
‘Yeah, that’s possible. But it’s hard to see how anyone like that could have known about the dating agency.’
‘That’s what makes me worried: because it doesn’t quite make sense,’ Maggie said.
She put her arms around him and kissed his neck.
‘You should quit for tonight. You have Sunday to work. Is this your laptop?’
‘Yes, er, it’s an old one, I’m just using it to work on Ridley’s situation. It’s not connected to the internet. I don’t want to use the station’s; that’s under my desk.’
‘Oh, well, good for you; keep it private, right?’
‘Yes, I’ll be along in a few minutes, and thanks for the coffee.’
As soon as Maggie had left, Jack started making notes about what he needed to ask Ridley. It would be difficult for him to dig up old cases Ridley had been involved with, as it would draw attention, and he was certain that the detectives working on the murder would have already gone down that route. But right now Maggie was right: he was tired. His eyes were burning from staring at the small laptop screen.
He decided he would call it a night and continue in the morning. He tidied up all the documents and computer sticks, putting them safely into a drawer. Then he sat for a few minutes, letting everything he’d learned settle in his mind. Nothing stood out as significant: unless it was the fact that the woman calling herself Sandra Raynor and Eva Shay had both been accountants, but he couldn’t see how that connected with Ridley. He quickly decided he was too tired to carry on thinking about it.
By the time Jack went to their bedroom it was after 1 a.m. He was in the bathroom cleaning his teeth when his mobile pinged. He pulled it out of his jacket, which he had hung on the back of the door. There was a message from an unknown caller, but as he listened to it, he knew it was Ridley: Same place, same time, tomorrow. If you can’t be there, I’ll re-contact.
Chapter Eleven
Jack arrived at the John Lewis car park to find that it didn’t open until 8 a.m. He drove around the back and parked close to the Turk’s boat yard. Maggie had been still in bed when he had left so he had stopped en route to buy two takeaway coffees. Ridley was waiting for him, and it seemed to Jack as though he had aged since their last meeting. He was wearing a heavy coat, a woollen beany hat and fur-lined gloves, as well as his usual corduroy trousers. Jack was wishing he’d put on a warmer coat as it was freezing cold.
A mist was coming off the river as Ridley took the coffee from him. They walked a short distance before sitting on the same bench as before. It was clear that he was depressed with the slow pace of the investigation, with the dead woman still remaining unidentified.
Jack told him that he had watched the video footage of the post-mortem, but without saying anything about her real age. He remarked that it was a very professional murder and Ridley agreed, saying they had found no fibres on her naked body apart from the small amount that matched the carpet in the boot of his Volvo.
‘I would say that whoever killed her used sticky tape to make sure nothing was found forensically, wiping her body of anything that might have helped identify her,’ Ridley said.
Jack sipped his coffee and nodded. He was feeling the cold, wrapping his hands around the warm cardboard takeaway coffee beaker. ‘First up, never mind being unable to trace Sandra Raynor for a minute. Give me the lowdown on Sammy Taylor — dressed up like a drag queen in the afternoon, then came round to my home — which I didn’t like, by the way — looking like a conservative MP, driving a Bentley.’
Ridley hesitated before replying. ‘He was a top agent for MI5, got caught in a blackmail scam twenty years ago which I sorted out — no press, no scandal. He’s a computer genius and until recently used to do covert work for the government and secret service.’
Jack was astonished. ‘You are joking! If he was blackmailed before, how come he’s now getting away with making a podcast dressed as a drag queen?’
‘There’s no need to be crass.’
‘Crass? Is that what you think I’m being? He fucking freaked me out of my head — he takes me into a room with more equipment and monitors than we’ve got at the station and is able to hack into private bank accounts and criminal records. My electric bill would come in at almost double if I had that amount of equipment. Are you telling me it won’t create suspicion?’
Ridley stood up, moving towards the waste bin.
‘Fine. I understand your concerns, and I’m sorry to have dragged you into this. So perhaps we should call it quits.’
Ridley tossed the empty coffee beaker into the bin. Jack sighed, but when it looked as if Ridley was going to walk away, he jumped up. ‘No wait, please, I’m sorry, but I needed to sound off, and it’s not as if I could let it rip with anyone else.’