Jack jotted down the password in his notebook whilst Middleton thanked Harold for collecting him. He asked him to make sure his aunty Joyce got a big thank you from him for signing the surety.
Middleton stood up and took off his denim jacket, tossing it over the arm of the sofa. He was taller than Jack and reached out to shake his hand.
‘I best get cracking in the kitchen. Amanda’s not a very good cook. If it’s not in a tin, she isn’t sure what to do with it.’ He gave a boyish laugh but Jack sensed he was now eager for them to leave.
‘I’ll help you carry the computer out,’ he said. ‘I’d like to get a laptop, but my finances don’t run to that yet.’
Jack led Laura down the hallway and opened the front door. He stopped and turned, smiling at Middleton.
‘Just one more thing before we leave. I want to take a look inside the coal hole. It’s just outside in the basement yard, isn’t it?’
He caught the look in Middleton’s eyes. It was just a flicker, but the friendly demeanour had briefly vanished.
‘It has a padlock on it,’ Jack continued. ‘Mrs Delaney said you helped her out with a rat infestation. If you have the key, we can have a look in there before we leave.’
‘I’m sorry, but I can’t help you. I don’t have the key, and it’s not part of my property. That’s right, isn’t it, Harold; they can’t open it, can they?’
Harold looked flustered as he scrutinised the search warrant. ‘He’s right, detective, this search warrant is for a search of Mr Middleton’s basement flat, but not any external buildings.’
Harold, explained, almost apologetically, that in his previous job he’d gained some knowledge about search warrants and citizens’ rights.
‘Never mind,’ Jack said, managing to disguise his fury. ‘It was just a thought and I doubt it will be necessary anyway. Thank you again for your time, you have been very cooperative, and we really appreciate it. I’ll leave you with a copy of the search warrant.’
Laura and Jack headed out, carrying the bulging plastic bags, with Harold carrying the computer nervously and looking as though he was afraid he was going to drop it. Jack opened the boot.
‘So, your wife came to her nephew’s assistance. That was very kind of her.’ Jack took the computer from him and placed it in the boot, closing it afterwards.
‘Yes, well, blood is thicker than water, isn’t it?’ Harold said. ‘Rodney was frantic to get home, as he worries about that anorexic girlfriend of his.’
Jack got in the car and watched Harold walk off. He sat for a minute, gripping the steering wheel hard.
‘Christ almighty! We were had, Laura. There was nothing in his fucking basement, because — I would put any money — he has all his personal stuff stashed in the coal hole. He was all sweetness and light until I mentioned that. I want to organise surveillance ASAP to monitor what goes on until I can get another warrant to go in there. I’m pissed off at myself — all the time we spent searching inside and we should have just kicked the door down and gone into the coal hole.’
‘I don’t know, we could have got into a lot of trouble,’ Laura said. ‘If Middleton is as devious as I think he is, he had to know we were there, but he didn’t care. He probably got his uncle to stay just to confirm the fact that we couldn’t get access. Is he that clever, do you think?’
Jack nodded as they drove towards the station. ‘He lives on benefits and uses his mental health issues and sympathetic probation officers to get what he wants. And that stick insect of a girlfriend is totally under his control, or at least she was until she brought up the bracelet.’
Laura leaned back in the passenger seat, tugging at her safety belt. ‘You know, Jack, you haven’t actually told me why you have been pushing this investigation. I think I have some idea, but please tell me.’
‘OK,’ he said. ‘I think Rodney Middleton picks up young runaway girls from mainline train stations. He acts the friendly, helpful, guy then takes them back to that basement flat, with his supposedly innocent girlfriend. They move in and after a time he gets rid of them — and I mean permanently.’
‘My God, do you think Amanda’s directly involved?’
‘She is definitely compliant and accompanies him to the station,’ Jack said. ‘But when he’s getting rid of them, he locks her in that back room. We need to find out what happened on the night he was arrested. He walked out of that basement flat, gave himself up, and passed over the offending weapon. We need to find out if a girl went missing in that time frame.’
‘Do you think Amanda is in danger?’ Laura asked. ‘She’s identified three girls, and we don’t know if he’s aware of that, or about her giving you the bracelet.’
Jack pulled into the station and parked in his allocated space. He instructed Laura to get surveillance set up on Middleton’s flat and to organise a search warrant for the coal bunker. He said that he would take the computer and the tools into forensics and the tech officers.
‘I’ll be in after I get a result from the labs.’
‘OK, will do. I’ll get cracking straight away and I’ll write a report on what went down this afternoon. And I’ll print off the photographs and call you with an update.’
Jack smiled at her as he backed out of the car park to take the items to the labs. He was feeling worn out but at least now Laura understood what was driving him.
Chapter Thirteen
Jack arrived at the labs the following morning just after eight thirty. The battery had died on his mobile phone, which he’d forgotten to charge overnight. When it had enough juice to be turned on again, he found he had missed three calls from Laura. He decided to wait until he got the results from the IT team about Middleton’s computer and Amanda’s mobile phone. The forensic department had also said they would test the tools, alongside bedding from Middleton’s bedroom.
Christopher Deacon, the young scientist who was working on Middleton’s computer hard drive, was eating a bacon roll when Jack found him. He had on thick, Harry Potter-style glasses and his head was shaved on both sides with a tuft on the top slicked up with gel.
Deacon had printed out a pile of material for Jack, and was still producing further data. He had an unfortunate manner of eating whilst he was talking, spitting out breadcrumbs everywhere and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
‘My God, there’s more stuff on here about mental illness than in a bloody medical journal,’ he said. ‘He’s concentrated on manic depression, schizophrenia, multiple personalities, the mental states of serial killers and their trials. There are lists of prescription medications, stuff about psychoanalysis, hypnosis and suicides... I could carry on... it’s obsessive.’
Jack pulled up a chair and sat beside him. Deacon then talked about all the computer games that Middleton had accessed, but there was no pornography, or accessing of paedophile sites; Middleton had just downloaded cartoons and Disney films.
‘Anything personal? Any family snaps?’ Jack asked.
Deacon shook his head. ‘No. He’s done a lot of research about arson, though, and bizarrely, documentaries about seriously obese people weighing over forty stone... but nothing personal, not even e-mails. But I’m going to do some more digging as they could be carefully buried. This is not a very up-to-date computer, but your user is pretty savvy.’
Jack sat with Deacon for over half an hour, reading the printed material. He then went to get a coffee and to see if there was any development on the content of Amanda’s mobile phone. The phone department was a very small area and they only worked on mobiles. There were two young specialists who, like Deacon, looked like teenagers to Jack. They had laid out in front of them about thirty different mobile phones taken from drug dealers and other criminals. Amanda’s mobile was relatively old and they had easily retrieved the numbers that had been called and received. The most recent calls were to a café close to Brixton prison, the basement flat and the hostel. There were also two other mobile numbers and a Liverpool number.