Christ. I fell quiet, trying to take it in. When I’d told Ward about Lennox I’d been worried I was wasting her time. I hadn’t expected this.
‘Well, say something,’ Ward said. ‘I didn’t expect you to punch the air but I thought you’d be a bit more enthusiastic.’
‘What about the woman who was walled up with him?’ I asked.
‘Nothing on her yet. We haven’t come up with a match for her fingerprints, so it doesn’t look like she had a criminal record. We’re still waiting on DNA and dental, but now we’ve identified Crossly we can start looking into his friends and associates. See if she was someone he knew.’
‘When did he go missing?’
Ward hesitated. ‘It was reported thirteen months ago.’
I looked at her. ‘Lola told me her son had his stroke eighteen months ago. That’s five months before Darren Crossly went missing.’
‘I said that’s when it was reported,’ Ward said, with a touch of irritation. ‘Crossly doesn’t have any family and he’d been out of work since St Jude’s closed, so we can’t say exactly how long he’s been gone. We only found out when we did because he was claiming benefit and his landlord reported him for falling behind on his rent. But we think he probably disappeared closer to fifteen months ago, which puts it around the same sort of time as Christine Gorski was last seen. And we’ve only got the word of Lennox’s mother for when her son actually had his stroke.’
‘You think she’s covering for him?’
Ward gave a shrug. ‘We’ve applied for a court order to access his health records, so we’ll see then. But in view of everything else, we didn’t want to wait. Mothers have been known to lie, and she hasn’t got an unblemished record herself. We checked into what the neighbour told you about a patient death. Lola Lennox used to work at the old Royal Infirmary in South London. It’s gone now, but twenty-two years ago a fourteen-year-old boy died from an insulin overdose while she was the nurse on duty.’
‘It was true?’ Even though I’d felt obliged to tell Ward about it, I’d never really believed the neighbour’s story.
‘Well, the basics are. The hospital’s internal investigation ruled it was an accident but Lola was dismissed and never worked as a nurse again. Getting sacked from hospitals seems to run in the family.’
Leaving me with that thought, Ward fell silent as the car turned on to Lola’s street. Still absorbing the news, I felt my stomach knot at the thought of what was to come.
‘You haven’t told me yet what I’m doing here,’ I said.
‘Apart from you starting the whole thing off, you mean?’ She gave a dry smile. ‘Don’t worry, it’s not a punishment. Lennox’s mother knows you, so I thought it wouldn’t hurt to have a familiar face along.’
‘I’m not sure that’ll make any difference.’
‘Maybe not, but it’s better than a house full of strangers. She seems to trust you, anyway.’
Not after this, I thought.
We pulled up outside the house, along with several other cars and an ambulance. Gary Lennox might be a suspect, but he was also a vulnerable adult. Social services were accompanying the police, as well as an ambulance and paramedics to check on Lennox’s physical condition and transport him to hospital. I felt a weight of responsibility on my shoulders as I got out of the car. I’d wanted to get help for Lola and her son. I hadn’t anticipated this.
Car doors slammed as the police entourage climbed out on to the pavement. Drawn by the commotion, faces were appearing in windows of the houses that weren’t boarded up. A few people had emerged into the street to watch, staring with undisguised curiosity at the unexpected entertainment.
Whelan had been in one of the other cars. Now he went to the front door and knocked. I kept my eyes on the blind in the window, watching for a movement that would betray Lola’s presence. It stayed still. Whelan waited a few seconds then knocked again, harder this time.
‘She’s gone out.’
It was the same neighbour who’d spoken to me on a previous visit. She stood watching from her doorway, a bathrobe wrapped around her and another cigarette in hand. It looked as though she’d only just got out of bed, and without the thick make-up her face appeared older and unfinished.
‘Do you know where she is?’ Whelan asked.
She shrugged a shoulder. ‘How should I know?’
‘Do you know how long she’s been gone?’
‘I don’t know. Hour, hour and a half.’ Taking a drag on her cigarette, she gave me a faintly mocking smile. ‘Brought reinforcements, did you?’
Whelan turned back to Ward. ‘What do you think, ma’am? Shall we—’
‘Sir.’
One of the uniformed PCs was looking further up the street. A forlorn woman was trudging towards us on the pavement. She carried shopping bags in both hands, limping along with her head bowed. Lost in the effort of walking, she hadn’t noticed us, but then something must have registered. She looked up, stopping dead at the sight of the police outside her house. For a second or two she didn’t move. Her eyes rested briefly on me. Then, mouth set in a determined line, she hoisted her carrier bags and continued towards us with the same unhurried pace as before.
Ward stepped to meet her. ‘Lola Lennox? My name’s DCI Sharon Ward. We’re here about Gary.’
Lola ignored her, walking past Ward and everyone else as though none of us were there.
‘Did you hear me, Mrs Lennox? I said we’d like to speak with you about—’
‘I heard. You can piss off.’
‘Mrs Lennox, we have a warrant for your son’s arrest.’
‘Shove it up your arse.’
Without putting down her shopping bags — more incontinence pads, I saw — Lola fumbled with her keys to unlock the front door.
Ward tried again, making an effort not to lose patience. ‘We don’t want to cause you any more distress than we have to, but it’s in your own and your son’s interest for you to cooperate.’
She might as well have been speaking to a stone. Still holding her bags, Lola continued to struggle with her keys, face reddening with the effort.
Whelan went to help. ‘Here, why don’t I—’
‘Get your fucking hands off me!’ Lola snarled, turning on him.
‘All right, let’s all calm down,’ Ward said as Whelan backed off, hands raised placatingly. She beckoned me forward. ‘I think you know Dr Hunter—’
‘Keep that back-stabbing bastard away from me.’
So much for a familiar face. I took a breath. ‘I’m sorry, Lola, I didn’t want to—’
‘Fuck off!’
She’d managed to get her key into the lock but, hampered by the shopping bags, was now struggling to turn it. By now more people had emerged on the street to watch.
‘You should be ashamed of yourselves!’ a woman called from across the road. ‘She’s an old woman, leave her alone!’
I could see the indecision on Ward’s face as she tried to decide what to do. The last thing she needed was accusations of heavy-handed policing, especially towards the elderly mother of a sick man. But the longer this went on, the more danger there was of losing her authority.
Abruptly, the front door unlocked with a snick. Lola tried to squeeze through the gap while still blocking it with her bags.
‘You can’t come in!’ she yelled, trying to force the door shut. ‘This is my house, you’ve no right!’
They had, though. Abandoning the attempt to keep them out, she hurried inside, leaving the door to swing open. I let the police and social workers go in first. Whelan recoiled as he entered and the smell of the sickroom hit him.