‘Kingston are the ones who missed things, sir! The second they dismissed Avril as a waste of time, they set this mess in motion. They assumed Adam didn’t exist, and they hadn’t even heard the name of Jessica Chi. I picked up this shambles of a case and have been trying to make sense of it ever since. And it might have helped if you’d stepped closer to the case as soon as it was transferred to us, and certainly after Avril’s murder!’ Jack held his ground, waiting for the upcoming bollocking. But it never came. Ridley absorbed the accusation thrown at him. He didn’t agree or disagree; he just looked... disconnected. The man Jack respected more than anyone else in the world was letting him down but — worse than that — he didn’t seem to care. ‘Are you retiring, sir?’ he asked.
Ridley didn’t answer, just silently moved away towards the remnants of the greenhouse. Their conversation was over.
The sight of Jessica’s body, however, brought a visible intensity to Ridley’s face; something his team had missed over the past few months. ‘Mal, have the Drug Squad finished with the scene?’ he asked.
‘The outbuildings are still ours, sir. The greenhouse is all yours.’
‘OK. Steve wants to see you and Josh before you knock off, for a full review. Laura, you search Jessica’s home address. Anik, continue to prioritise Adam Border. And Jack, you wait for Foxy. I didn’t get the chance to speak to him this morning about Avril Jenkins’ post-mortem, so get the report on that whilst you’re there, as well. I’ll be with the Super.’ And with that, Ridley headed back to his car.
As everyone dispersed, leaving Jack alone with Angel and her team, he couldn’t help but feel isolated. Jack hadn’t realised how much he relied on Ridley: he was Jack’s sounding board; his calm, guiding voice of reason during stressful times; and he was the man who always challenged Jack and pushed him beyond what he thought himself capable of.
Jack watched Ridley drive away. Then his eyes moved to the brick bin store which made him remember the gloved cigarette butts he had in his pocket. He was juggling so many potential lines of enquiry, yet all Ridley could tell him to do was ‘wait’.
Fuck him, Jack thought to himself.
The task of removing the body of Jessica Chi from the greenhouse was like an archaeological dig, as Foxy supervised the slow and methodical clearing of debris layer by layer. As each obstruction was moved from her body, Foxy would check to make sure they hadn’t caused her damage or potentially destroyed evidence. Eventually, she was lifted out and onto a stretcher. Jessica’s body was blackened and charred, except where the skin had burnt off completely; in these areas, her red flesh and muscle structure showed through. Jack hoped to God she was dead before the fire started.
‘This house is keeping us busy, Jack.’ Foxy was cheerful, regardless of the late hour. ‘Once I’ve got this one settled, I’ll complete my report on Avril Jenkins ready for tomorrow morning’s briefing.’ Jack asked if Foxy had any headlines from Avril’s post-mortem. ‘Yes. Apart from being in four pieces, she was in rude health.’
Jack didn’t smile.
‘Are you OK?’ Foxy asked.
Jack sighed. ‘We’ve got all the wrong pieces of this jigsaw, Foxy. Nothing fits together.’
Jack instructed the two uniformed officers on the front gate to organise themselves a couple of replacements and, between them, maintain a 24-hour vigil on the property. ‘There’s also a back lane that cuts between the house and the golf course. Get that covered, too, please. No one’s to go inside the house or inside the two outbuildings. They’re only part-processed.’ He gave the cigarette butts wrapped inside a latex glove to Angel, so she could arrange for them to be checked for DNA, then he headed home.
The next morning Jack stood by the kitchen window, staring at the birds in the back garden. Penny had been very careful with the flowers she’d planted in the borders — they were wild enough to need little tending, attractive to birds but not to bees, and safe to be handled by curious little hands. It really was a beautiful space and, this morning in particular, Jack felt very lucky to have it. It was the size of a shoe box compared to Avril Jenkins’ garden, but at least his was an idyllic, picturesque haven — while hers had turned out to be a secret drugs den. He still wondered how she could have been oblivious to the fact that there was several million pounds’ worth of drugs and drug paraphernalia right under her nose.
Maggie’s arms crept round Jack’s waist and she kissed the back of his neck. ‘You showered when you got home last night. You only do that when you’ve been at a grubby crime scene... bad day?’ Jack gently stroked the backs of her hands but said nothing, so she didn’t push the topic. ‘I’m doing a double today because Mr Wetlock is taking time off with his daughter.’
‘Tell me about fentanyl,’ Jack said. Maggie quickly moved away, making him turn. She looked put out. ‘Sorry...’ Jack knew exactly what he’d done wrong. ‘Do you need to talk about Wetlock and his daughter?’ Maggie, with a petulant undertone, said that the moment had passed and that she should no doubt just walk away from the whole Wetlock thing anyway. ‘I think you’re right,’ Jack continued. ‘So, tell me about fentanyl.’
Maggie wanted to be mad at him for being so dismissive of her problems in favour of his, but she knew she’d invited it. A smile crept over her face, and she set about treating them both to poached eggs on toast. It would be a rare event for them to sit down to breakfast together, even if they were talking about street drugs.
‘Fentanyl’s an opioid analgesic,’ she explained. ‘Mainly post-op or post-trauma. It can be administered IM or IV, via skin patches, orally with tablets or lozenges, or via nasal spray. It’s incredibly strong. In hospital, it’s a controlled drug, so no one can access it without someone else knowing. We caught a porter stealing used patches from a clinical waste bin once. He was selling them to his friends.’
Jack was just about to ask what an OD of fentanyl does to a person when Penny walked in with Hannah in her arms. Both of them were beaming with such joy at nothing more than the prospect of a brand-new day, that they brought Jack and Maggie’s conversation to an abrupt halt. Instead, they started talking about Paw Patrol and Penny’s plans to take Hannah to the National Maritime Museum.
All four members of the Warr family sat down to breakfast together, devouring seven eggs and half a loaf of bread between them. Maggie and Jack then left the house at the same time, and as Jack headed for the Underground and Maggie for the car, she got an envelope from her pocket.
‘Give this to Simon when you see him.’ Jack could tell from the dove-embossed envelope that this was Ridley’s wedding invitation. And Maggie could tell from Jack’s frown that something had happened between the two men. ‘Don’t alienate Simon as well, for God’s sake. Honestly, Jack, you really need to learn how to play nicely with your senior officers. It’s just because he’s disagreed with you on something, right?’
Although Maggie was laughing as she said it, her words still stung because she’d instinctively assumed that Jack was the one at fault, though history definitely suggested this was likely to be the case. Jack wanted to shout, ‘He’s not Mr Perfect, you know! In fact, he’s completely forgotten how to be a good copper because he’s retiring!’ But instead he kissed Maggie goodbye and carried on towards the Underground.
As promised, Foxy was at the early morning briefing ready to give the team a full handover relating to Avril Jenkins’ post-mortem. He was flirting with Laura when Ridley finally emerged from his office, but quickly snapped into action when he heard himself being introduced for anyone who didn’t already know him by sight. Strangely, Foxy was one man Laura never once looked at with any degree of interest. He was handsome, fit, suave and amusing — but he just didn’t do it for her. The truth was, he seemed too easy. And Laura tended to go for men she was unlikely to actually get. In fact, it was her built-in self-defence mechanism.