Jack couldn’t contain his anger. ’Done some good work? If it wasn’t for me, Middleton would have been released to probably kill another innocent runaway, quite apart from the fact that I know more about the bastard than anyone else.’
Clarke frowned. ‘Don’t query my judgement, Jack. It’s obvious you have a personal agenda with this case, and I am not prepared to let that get in the way of things. Goodnight, Jack.’
Jack tried to control his rage as he collected his briefcase and coat.
‘Where are you off to?’ Laura asked innocently.
‘Home,’ he snapped.
‘You’re sure it’s not another trip to the seaside?’ she said with a grin. ‘Well, watch what you drink; you don’t want to get stopped again.’
Jack went and stood very close to her. ‘Why don’t you mind your own fucking business,’ he said through gritted teeth.
Laura went pale. ‘Bloody hell, Jack, I was only joking...’
He walked out, slamming the door behind him. As he reached his hated pea-green Micra he muttered, ‘Fuck them all!’
Much as he wanted to go straight home, he still needed to check out the flat in Pimlico. But he decided that after he had done that, he was going to tell Ridley that he could fuck off as well. He was sick and tired of the lot of them.
Chapter Twenty-Three
When he got to the Dover Court flats in Pimlico, Jack parked in the residents’ car park and walked into the reception. A cheerful-looking porter simply smiled as Jack passed him, as if he was one of the residents. Still angry, Jack scowled as he headed for the lift.
When he got to the top floor where the smaller flats and studios were located, he was relieved to find no one was about. He pulled out his set of skeleton keys, a bunch he had pocketed after an arrest a few years years earlier, but he was not that skilled with them and had to try the door of 54B a number of times before he successfully opened it, even though it was a simple Yale lock. Luckily there was no alarm. He quickly shut the door behind him and took a moment to assess the small, dark hallway before searching for the light switch.
It was a very small apartment. The narrow hallway had doors leading to a sitting room, a bedroom with an en-suite bathroom and a kitchen. It was furnished with rather worn items and felt unlived in and lacking in anything personal.
It also did not look as if anyone had been there for some time. In the kitchen he found a bottle of milk in the fridge that was a week beyond its sell-by date, along with some shrivelled fruit and a bottle of vodka. In the sink there was a glass and a plate. The bedroom contained a small double bed, dressing table and wardrobe. Jack stopped and drew in a deep breath. Beside the bed were two matching Louis Vuitton suitcases, and on it was an expensive leather briefcase. He opened the largest case first and checked through the selection of stylish clothes and shoes. There was also a blonde wig, neatly wrapped in a silk bag. Next, he opened the smaller case which contained underwear, nightdresses and a leather makeup bag with cosmetics and bottles of perfume, bath oils and skin-care pots. He felt round the lining, then closed the case and pulled the briefcase towards him.
There was a laptop, a mobile phone, and an envelope containing two memory sticks. Tucked into the pocket of the briefcase was a small photo album. He flicked through it briefly, knowing it was the album he had been told about that morning.
In the same pocket he found a passport belonging to Lorna Elliot with several hundred-dollar bills tucked inside. In the small leather-trimmed business card pockets were numerous bank cards in her name, including Chase Bank, Bank of America and Coutts Bank.
After carefully replacing all the items back in the briefcase, Jack searched the rest of the flat. He was looking for other things that he felt should be with Lorna’s belongings: a handbag, keys to the flat, a wallet... He went into the drawing room and looked under and around all the furniture, then went back into the kitchen. He hesitated, then went into the ensuite bathroom. There on the side of the washbasin was an elegant leather handbag with YSL on the gold clasp. He opened it and found exactly what he had been looking for: a set of cars keys for a Jaguar with a rental tag in the name of Sandra Raynor, a folder from the dating agency, and a crocodile-skin wallet. The wallet contained a lot of crisp new £50 notes.
Jack’s dark mood had lifted by the time he left the flat with the handbag and briefcase covered by his coat. At the car, he opened the passenger door and tossed them inside. He was now keen to get home and take a look at the contents of the laptop.
As soon as he arrived, Jack hurried inside and ran straight up the stairs to his office with the briefcase and the handbag. He had just put everything down on his desk when Maggie walked in. She was wearing a dressing gown, and from her expression it was obvious that she was not in a good mood.
‘Well, thank you for letting me know what time you’d be home,’ she said. ‘I thought you’d still be at the station.’
‘Sorry, sweetheart,’ Jack said, ‘but DCI Clarke let me off a bit earlier in exchange for being at the station early tomorrow morning.’
‘Have you eaten dinner?’
‘I have actually. This wonderful woman Glenda Bagshot ordered in a decent meal for everyone, as she was sick and tired of the awful canteen food at night.’
‘That’s alright then,’ she said in a sarcastic tone. ‘So now can you come to bed. I really want to have a talk.’
He hesitated, gesturing at the briefcase. ‘I had to collect this on the way home and I was going to have a look at the contents. It’s connected to the Ridley situation.’
‘I don’t care about him, Jack. We’ve hardly had a moment together since you’ve been on nights. I know the case you’re working on is pretty tough going, but you’re running yourself ragged trying to do two things at the same time.’
‘Yes, I know you’re right. I had a big breakthrough earlier this evening, though.’
Maggie walked to his desk and picked up the handbag. ‘This looks very posh. . . Yves Saint Laurent. Who does it belong to?’
Jack raked his fingers through his hair. ‘I believe it belonged to the woman found in Ridley’s car. That’s her briefcase, with a laptop and mobile phone.’
‘So, what do you intend to do tonight?’ she asked, frowning.
‘I was going to check over it all and then contact Ridley.’
‘Tonight?’
‘Well, I don’t have time to do it when I’m on duty.’
‘So instead of spending time with me when we haven’t seen each other properly for days, you’d rather be chasing around after Ridley. I think you need to get your priorities sorted, Jack!’
He had never seen her in this aggressive mood before, and he put his hands up in a defensive gesture.
‘You’re right, and I am so sorry. I feel bad. You don’t need this; I know how tough it is for you at work right now.’
‘Really, Jack?’
‘Of course... you’re still under incredible pressure day and night.’
She folded her arms. ‘You can say that again. We also need to consider the pressure we put on Penny having to look after Hannah virtually all day and night, without either of us being able to take any weight off her shoulders. Jack, we need to talk about this properly; why don’t you go and have a shower and come to bed so we can discuss things?’
He nodded. ‘OK, I’ll be right with you.’
‘No, now!’ she said, raising her voice. ‘Come on, out of here! I need to get some sleep, and I know if I leave you here, you’ll get distracted and you’ll forget about everything else.’
Jack had to walk past her as she turned off the lights in his office. He went straight into the bathroom for a quick shower and when he got into bed Maggie had turned on the electric blanket and was sitting propped up by pillows. He flipped back his side of the duvet and snuggled up, putting his arms around her.