‘Did they test for anything like Novichok, the nerve agent used by the Russians on the Skripals? This was a few years ago, but I remember a woman died because she had found a bottle the killers had discarded in a trash bin. I did a bit of research a while back: the symptoms are intense breathlessness, muscle pain, vomiting and it can also result in permanent nerve damage, but if you were given a minuscule dose, it could be why you lost consciousness.’
Ridley was clearly becoming very anxious, but Jack picked up a slight hesitation before he answered.
‘Jesus Christ, they’re testing every inch of my car, and all the clothing I wore that night; I’ve had urine and blood tests. But the problem is that I was violently sick, so it all went down the toilet.’
‘If you had so much as a molecule it can stay in the system for up to two weeks,’ Jack said.
‘Well, as I said, they took blood samples, skin, hair, you name it. It could have been one of the date-rape drugs. Victims don’t recall anything for long periods.’
‘And you have complete memory loss for the entire night after leaving that pub?’
‘Yes, I’ve already told you that. Now can we go back to the woman? You say her real name is Lorna Elliot, correct?’
Jack intuitively knew Ridley was changing the subject, but couldn’t fathom out why.
‘Yes, I believe that’s right.’
‘So why me? Why did she want to see me? How did she know me? I honestly can’t ever recall meeting this Lorna Elliot in connection with the Anton Lord investigation. I was a young, uniformed officer at the time. How would she have found out I was ever part of it?’
‘There has to be a link,’ Jack said. ‘You taught me that. Maybe the team looking into all this can find it. I’d start with what Anton Lord was up to in Russia.’
Ridley nodded. ‘Yes, you’re right. They’ve done fuck all to date. But at least it’s something new for them to start working on. And Jack...’ Ridley turned to him. Jack had his head down and his eyes closed.
‘Jack!’ he said loudly, and he jerked awake.
‘Sorry, sir, I’m totally wiped out. I’ve been on duty all night. But I’ve only just skimmed the surface. I can keep digging...’
Ridley shook his head. ‘Let me start working on it. I’ll just say that I’m trolling through old cases. You’ve done enough. I don’t want your name getting mixed up in it all.’
Jack was relieved, as juggling two cases was exhausting him.
‘What about this relative who lives in Sussex... an aunt?’ Ridley asked.
‘Her name is Barbara Elliot, but I’ve not had time to do a check on her.’
‘Can you just do that for me? If I go, wearing this damned tracer on my ankle will tip them off. It’s against the law as I’m a bloody Met officer, but I suggested it.’
‘How come you can get out to meet with me?’ Jack asked.
Jack sensed the hesitation, before Ridley answered. ‘I use a burner phone, and they have a change-over at 8 a.m. every day, which gives me just enough time to walk along the river and get back. I am allowed out for some fresh air. They will obviously be able to track how far I am from the house, but I doubt this is going to last as they can’t keep this situation under wraps for much longer. That said, I still want you to be very careful, so don’t take any risks. Just see what you can do. Right now, you’ve proved to me that I was right about you: you’re the only person I can trust.’
Jack couldn’t really say no, despite his exhaustion, so he agreed to find time the following day to track down Barbara Elliot. He watched as Ridley got out of the car and headed back towards the river. He didn’t know why he felt so uneasy. Had Ridley lied to him? Was there more to his situation than he was admitting? He couldn’t help feeling that Ridley was using him somehow — but to what end?
By the time Jack arrived home the house was empty. Maggie had left for work, and Penny had taken Hannah to nursery. He drank a glass of milk and ate some biscuits, then he crashed out in bed, after setting his alarm for the night shift.
The team were waiting for more forensic results. They had DNA from the three missing girls’ families — taken from toothbrushes, hair slides, hairbrushes as well as blood samples from family members. The scientists were working in shifts as there was so much evidence from the coal hole and basement flat to work through, examining a saw blade, a wire brush, a shovel and a fifteen-inch sharpened screwdriver, along with four long, sharp-bladed knives.
They had their first match by 10.30 a.m., with Nadine O’Reilly’s DNA.
At eleven o’clock the second match came in. This time it was for Trudie Hudson, and the match had come from the wire brush as well as a section of the stone flooring in the coal hole. No one celebrated.
Sara had pinned up four other possible runaways who were still missing — two of them now had the word ‘traced’ stamped across their faces. But even with the horrific evidence, they still did not have any bodies or body parts, and that could be a problem.
Local officers now had the sad and difficult job of visiting the families and telling them about the positive DNA matches. Meanwhile, Sara was keeping a watchful eye on Amanda Dunn’s progress. She had been diagnosed with severe anaemia and was dangerously underweight. She had been put on a glucose drip and appeared to be gaining strength. She had been asking when she could go to see Rodney, and when she could have her mobile phone back. The officers had been given strict instructions not to allow Amanda to make any calls on the landline, unless they were recorded, and her mobile was not to be returned to her. She did not have any money and had to remain in hospital until the doctors discharged her into a hostel or protective custody. Interviewing Amanda was obviously urgent but according to the doctor caring for her, he felt she was not yet fit to be interviewed as she had a high temperature.
Sara put down the phone after speaking to the female officer who was monitoring Amanda. She looked over to Anik. ‘The officer said Amanda was very childlike, like she’s a bit backward, although she’s getting a bit tetchy apparently because she’s not allowed to smoke. What do you think?’
Anik pursed his lips and shrugged.
‘I’ve never met her, but from what we have on her sick boyfriend I would say she is likely to be a co-conspirator. She picked up the girls with the bastard; she had to know what was happening in that fucking shithole of a basement flat, just like Rosemary West. I think she should be arrested.’
‘For heaven’s sake, she’s only seventeen years old!’ Sara protested.
‘So were the dead girls, some even younger. Laura told me Amanda Dunn was an accomplished liar and even pulled the wool over super-sleuth Jack Warr’s eyes. He gave her cash for a train fare back to her parents, but she never went. Oh, and by the way, he left a memo for us to check into the possibility that Rodney’s aunt or her husband may have provided him with a mobile.’
They were interrupted by Leon, passing on a message from the desk sergeant.
‘There’s a Mrs O’Reilly in reception, waiting to talk to someone about her daughter.’
‘Oh my God, we sent a liaison officer to her home. Does she know about the DNA match?’ Sara asked.
‘I don’t know, I’m just bringing the message. What do you say, sarge?’ He looked at Anik.
‘Listen, I’m not good at this stuff. You go and talk to her, Sara. If you’re not up for it go and talk to the DCI, because by rights he should be the one talking to her; but he’s got his hands full with that fat little woman Glenda Bagshot, and the Chief Super is in with them.’