[#]
Briefing in Lexton failed to turn up any new leads. The general consensus was that the Raven had abandoned his van in favour of other means of transport. He was not claiming benefits, and it wasn’t possible to track his spending habits without bank account details. They were at a loss as to how he was sustaining himself. Jennifer wondered if his mother had been one of those mistrusting people who kept her money in a mattress instead of in a bank like everyone else. Her thoughts returned to Emily’s little boy. Her nightmares were filled with his sorrow – she could not get him out of her mind. She turned to Will, his head bowed as he pored over his paperwork. The couple he was working on must have had the police on speed dial, as not a weekend passed without the police being called to their address.
‘The Cravens, they’ve got kids haven’t they?’ Jennifer asked.
‘Five, God help them, and a menagerie of animals.’
‘Mmm,’ Jennifer said, ‘I take it you’ll be giving social services a call to update them on the progress of the case. Would you like me to do that for you?’
‘What are you up to? It sounds like you’ve enough work of your own to be getting on with.’
‘No, that’s OK, I’ll do it. What’s the number of that social worker you’re friendly with, Sally something, isn’t it?’
‘Why are you so keen to call social care all of a sudden?’ Will lifted his gaze from the page and his face broke into a smile. ‘Hold on, you’re after an update on Emily Clarke’s kid, aren’t you?’
‘I might be,’ Jennifer said. She had gotten used to never knowing the outcome of many of the jobs she attended. It was part of the job. You turned up when all hell was breaking loose, and if you were lucky, you found out how it went. Most of the time, you never heard anything, and you had to let it go. Being able to show empathy without becoming emotionally attached became a skill to master. But this time she had to know.
Will handed her a slip of paper. ‘Here’s her direct line. Don’t abuse it.’
‘Thanks,’ Jennifer said, before punching in her number. ‘Hi Sally, it’s DC Jennifer Knight from Haven CID. Sorry to call on your direct line but Will and I are working on a case involving the Craven family and I just wanted to check if you’ve received a social services referral.’
Sally was a children’s advisor, and all referrals in Haven passed through her. Will had gotten to know her over the years, and she was happy to update her that a social worker had already been assigned. Just as she was about to finish her call, Jennifer caught her attention.
‘Oh Sally, before you go, do you have any updates on the little boy who was taken into care the other day? His mother was Emily Clarke. She was murdered.’
‘Oh of course I know about that one, very sad wasn’t it? Let me see … why do you need this information again?’
Her fingers busily clacked on the keyboard as Sally typed in the background.
Jennifer twisted the phone cord between her fingers. Saying she felt a pang of guilt for his mother’s death would not provide her with the information she needed. ‘It’s relevant to the case,’ Jennifer heard herself say. ‘We need to ascertain if the child has said anything about his mother’s killer, if he’s settling in, things like that.’
Jennifer could hear the thud of a cup being placed on a desk. ‘Hmm, well it says here a DC Hardwick has already called with a view to interviewing him. Nothing’s been arranged yet, but the key worker has said in her notes he is showing no adverse signs so far. I imagine it’ll come out in his assessment but there doesn’t appear to be any lasting damage.’
Jennifer warmed to the idea of that. ‘That’s good, so he’s in care, I take it?’
‘He’s been fostered already. It’s early days but he’s doing really well, poor mite.’
It was the best news Jennifer had received all day. ‘Great! Thanks for that, Sally, I should have checked with DC Hardwick first. Sounds like a case of the left hand not knowing what the right hand is doing.’
‘Are you any nearer to catching the killer or are you not allowed to say?’ Sally said.
Jennifer squirmed. She thought of the whiteboard in the MIT briefing room, and the wall covered with photos of the unfortunate victims, followed by pins dotting destinations, forensics, names, and places. She decided to go for the politician-style answer, and sidestepped the question completely. ‘We’re throwing everything at this case. I’m sure it’s only a matter of time.’
‘Aye, well good luck with it, and don’t forget to give me the update on the Cravens.’
Jennifer would hand the responsibility for the updates over to Will and Zoe. They were welcome to them as far as she was concerned. One parent was as bad as the other, and neither thought of their children when they were tearing strips off each other during booze-fuelled arguments.
Jennifer was in the middle of Tesco’s when she received the call from Ethan. The hum of a car told her he was going somewhere, and the urgency in his voice made her hurry as she scanned her sandwich through the self-service checkout. There was no time for small talk as he relayed the news.
‘We’ve had word, there’s a raid going ahead. They’ve found The Reborners’ location.’
‘Really? I’m just grabbing a sandwich. What time is kick-off?’
Ethan mumbled something about turning left and Jennifer guessed he was being driven. ‘No, you don’t understand. Lexton MIT have been hacking into Zoe’s Facebook account and monitoring her conversations in the Second Chance group. While she was in interview, one of the group members invited her to a meeting.’
Jennifer swore under her breath. They were giving their full cooperation, there was no need for underhand tactics. ‘So when is the meeting? Is it today?’
‘It’s now. They’ve planned the raid without us. Zoe and I are on our way. Get yourself down to the quarry now.’
Chapter Forty-Two
Jennifer found Ethan at the entrance to a disused warehouse at the south-facing end of the old chalk quarry. It had been closed off to the public several years ago, situated at the back of the industrial site, miles away from town. Barbed-wire fences and signs threatening prosecution were usually enough to see people off, but it was a desolate enough location to provide shelter for The Reborners group without being found. Police had searched it when the investigation began, and Jennifer wondered if the group was relying on lightning not striking twice in the same place. The warehouse was large and draughty, and someone had covered the chalky floor with numerous blankets and cushions, all laid in a circular pattern. The centre culminated in a collection of bungs, lighters, and pipes. Jennifer scanned the room for Bert Bishop, the man who called himself the Raven. It was obvious she was the last one to arrive, as the dregs of the occupants were questioned, some being led out in handcuffs. Ethan gave the scene a murderous glare as he waited to confront the head of the operation. Jennifer was not surprised to hear it was a fresh-out-of-the-box DCI. Underhand dealings went a long way to winning promotion, but would award him little respect from his colleagues.
‘Why was the location messaged at such late notice?’ Jennifer said, peering into the scene.
Ethan pulled an electronic cigarette from his inside jacket pocket and inhaled the vapour. He seemed too clean-cut to use them, but all coppers had their coping mechanisms, much like Jennifer with her swearing and office banter. He blew out the smoke, before turning to answer. ‘That’s how the group works. New members aren’t trusted. They only receive notification once the sessions are in progress. Sometimes they get there for the tail end. The message came in just as Zoe was in interview with her domestic suspect. She knew something was up when she checked Facebook, because someone had replied on her behalf.’