Jack leant his elbows on his knees, waiting whilst she drank more wine. Her hand was shaking.
‘I went back and faced her, telling her that I had discovered she was lying and that for us this was unacceptable, and...’
She blew her nose, her eyes brimming with tears.
‘I couldn’t admit this to Mrs Da Costa as she’s been a lifeline for me, but that woman wasn’t fazed by what I’d found out. She just dismissed it as over-eagerness to find a man who would respect her. She then offered me the money. Two cash payments: one when I organised the date for the first drink and the second when they went out for dinner.’
Jack leant back as Shay blew her nose again, becoming more tearful. He decided he had heard enough and stood to leave.
‘One last thing... it may mean something, I don’t know... she was very keen to have that date, but it was the way she organised the money transaction. If she wasn’t an accountant, then she certainly knew her way around banking, telling me how long I could keep it in my account to avoid tax. It made me think that perhaps at some time she had worked with an accountancy company.’
‘When previously questioned, did you disclose that you knew she had been lying?’
‘No, I did not. I assumed they would look into it themselves.’
When he returned to his car, Jack jotted down the name of the woman who had checked out Sandra Raynor. He wondered if Debra Smith might be able to give them an insight into her real identity. Jack found it strange that such a seemingly intelligent woman would have taken the risk of lying on the CV she submitted to the dating agency. He was also certain that it was no coincidence that she had chosen Ridley, and that there had to be some kind of link between them in the past.
That link was what Jack now needed to find.
Chapter Sixteen
It was not yet 8 a.m. but the incident room was a hive of activity. Laura and Anik had taken over the boardroom to empty the large plastic container full of Rodney Middleton’s effects. When Jack joined them, the tables were lined with neat rows of receipts, outstanding bills, documents relating to benefits, and medical data. There was a stack of personal letters to him from his aunt and his father, as well as some worn letters from his biological mother, posted from Ghana.
There was also a photo album containing pictures of Rodney as a child and as a teenager, with numerous photographs of the two little girls who had died in the fire. Some loose photographs had also been piled up beside the plastic-covered photo album, including several of his stepmother, Karen, their wedding and a few of Rodney and his father fishing and roller skating.
‘You’ve been busy,’ Jack said, taking off his coat. Laura turned to him and smiled. She was wearing latex gloves and pointed to a box for him to put on a pair.
‘Yeah, we both came in at six to get cracking, but we’re still just sorting everything out to get it into some kind of order. The reports from Middleton’s probation officers and the various psychiatrists are in one pile, though I’m not sure how he came to be in possession of them as they were all internal reports. It might be due to him or his lawyers being given access to them the last time he went on trial, and there’s a couple of letters from the legal firm that represented him.’
Anik was emptying the last of the contents, including a few small, dirty boxes that contained bits of jewellery. He placed them in a row and then picked up a clipboard.
‘Right, I’ll have a look through these and take photographs, then they can be sent to the lab for DNA testing. I’ve made a list of everything as, you never know, they could be sick tokens that he’s kept from his victims. That’s often what happens, isn’t it?’
‘You talking about serial killers?’ Laura asked, reading the back of a photograph.
‘Yeah, that’s the thought process, isn’t it? I mean, we’re looking at the possibility of three missing girls, but there could be more.’
Jack made no comment and pulled up a hard-backed chair to begin sifting through the stack of letters.
‘Take a look at this, Jack; I think it’s a photograph of his mother, but read what’s written on the back of it,’ Laura said.
She passed him the black and white photograph. It showed a very young Ghanaian girl wearing a school uniform, dated 1981. Written on the back in a childish print were the words, Mama, I miss you. You should have taken me with you.
Jack turned it over in his mind, trying to think if she could have given birth to Rodney. He knew that Middleton was seventeen when the fire happened. He estimated from the photograph that the girl looked no more than about ten or eleven years old. He took out his notebook to remind him to check the dates, recalling that Joyce Miller had remarked that his mother had been very young.
The three of them worked together, tracing the large number of benefits paid to Rodney over the years. It appeared that he handled his own admin very efficiently, copying forms and applications, submitting doctors’ letters and psychiatric reports, and managing a Post Office savings account. They found warranties for the TV and stereo equipment, as well as an estimate for a new shower and a receipt for a power-jet cleaner. Jack read the various personal letters, some sent to Rodney when he was detained in the young offender institute. The correspondence was mostly from his aunt, but there were a couple from his father, one saying he was enclosing five pounds. Jack suddenly sat bolt upright.
‘Hey, listen to this. Written from Wandsworth prison: “Rodney, I have tried my very best for you under difficult circumstances, but this is the last time I am writing to you. I blame you for my beautiful girls’ deaths. Now Karen’s gone, so I went off the rails and I got into trouble. I can’t blame you for what I done, I was stupid and needed some ready cash for your aunt; she’s in a bad way and I am still paying Harold to look after her. They don’t want to see you, same as me. I hope you rot in hell for what you done.”’
‘You interviewed him, didn’t you?’ Anik said.
‘Yes, he was even hoping Rodney would be sent to the same prison as him so Anthony could beat the shit out of him.’
‘And you interviewed the firefighter who attended the scene of the fire, so do his accusations have any credence?’ Laura asked.
‘They investigated the possibility of arson, but no accelerants were found,’ Jack told her. ‘The fire started in the kids’ bedroom, from a duvet that was left hanging over one of the gas heaters.’
Laura reached across the table to a folder that was full of newspaper cuttings. She cleared a space in front of her and took out the cuttings, all neatly held together with a paper clip.
There was a loud rapping on the boardroom door. All three of them stopped what they were doing as Sara opened the door and stepped in.
‘The guv wants you to get over to the basement flat, sarge. The forensic team have called in to say they’re ready to do the luminol testing. He’s outside waiting in a squad car.’
Jack sprang to his feet, as Sara asked if she could stay with Anik and Laura to help them out.
‘I think I’d like to accompany Jack,’ Laura said sharply.
‘DCI Clarke stipulated that only Jack should accompany him and the fewer people there, the better. He’s waiting for results to come in from the lab and...’
Laura waved her hand to show she’d heard enough and sat back down, then held the latex glove box out towards Sara.