Chapter 23
Before Jack returned to the station, he took a detour to Portobello Road and the art gallery listed in Avril Jenkins’ red notebook next to the name of Jason Marks. There was a sign on the door saying VIEW BY APPOINTMENT ONLY but, after turning up at Hutchinson’s office unannounced and learning something integral to the case, Jack was in the mood to try the same tactic again. In his experience, surprising people often proved more fruitful than giving them notice of your arrival.
The small shopfront was not particularly impressive, and Jack noticed a business card wedged into the wooden frame of the door. JASON MARKS — ART VALUATION EXPERT. There was also a phone number which differed from the one crossed out in the red notebook. Above the gallery was a row of three windows which — because of the flowers on each of the sills — looked as if they belonged to a flat. The shutters were closed and, when Jack knocked on the shop door, there was no answer. It looked as if a second impromptu visit was not going to be as productive as his first.
At the station, Laura and Anik were liaising via Zoom about the Boogaard name. Anik had found a birth certificate dated 1987. The father of this newborn baby boy was identified as Andre Erik Boogaard and the mother as Avril Summers. At the time the certificate was issued, the baby had not been given a Christian name and so that section was blank. Anik had also found a death certificate for Andre, dated 1998. As yet, they had not been able to trace a marriage certificate between Andre and Avril.
Currently, Laura and Anik were exchanging notes on passports issued under the name of Boogaard, in the hope of fully identifying the baby boy. So far, they’d worked their way back to the 1990s, but with little success. Whilst searching for a passport being used by any male named Boogaard since 1987, Laura and Anik had repeatedly come across the name of Ingrid Boogaard. They’d tracked her birth certificate and found the father to be Andre Erik Boogaard. So, there was a sister, or half-sister in the mix too. Laura called the Royal Netherland Registry Department to find out as much as she could about Ingrid Boogaard. Within seconds, she was placed on hold listening to muzak.
When Jack walked into the squad room, he was confused to hear Anik shouting his name from somewhere. Then he saw the laptop screen sitting at the end of Laura’s desk.
‘Hey, Jack! What’s the deal with that painting? Do you know yet?’ Jack relayed his conversation with Hutchinson from that morning and explained there was a doubt about its authenticity. Anik reiterated Henrick Chi’s certainty that it was genuine. ‘And...’ Anik’s tone was cocky, almost mocking, ‘when it comes to authenticating paintings, I’ll take the word of a professional artist over a solicitor any day.’ Anik giggled at his own retort and glanced sideways at Laura in an invitation for her to join in. She didn’t.
Jack leant towards the screen, placing his hands on Laura’s desk, close to either side of the keyboard and spoke so that only Anik and Laura could hear him.
‘You know what, Anik, you’re right, I don’t know what I was thinking listening to Hutchinson’s opinion. You’re right, of course you are. Well done. In recent months, you’ve proved yourself to be a real...’ Jack tapped the touchpad and cut Anik off. As he headed back to his desk, he finished his sentence: ‘. . . tosser.’
The person on the other end of Laura’s phone finally returned and her conversation began again. ‘No, no, as I told the first two people I was put through to, I’m calling from the Metropolitan Police, London. I need to contact Miss Ingrid Boogaard.’ Laura covered the mouthpiece, and in a heavy whisper, she let off a little steam in Jack’s direction. ‘They’re annoying me now. And it sounds like the same woman just putting me on hold, then coming back again. She’s taking the piss... ah hello, yes. Oh brilliant. Thank you.’ Laura quickly snatched up a pen and paper. ‘And this is Ingrid Boogaard’s current address? Perfect. Yes, go ahead.’ Laura wrote down the address, which was a lengthy process as she had to ask for most of it to be spelled out. ‘And do you have a phone number for her as well?’ As Laura listened to the reply, the enthusiasm vanished from her face, and she screwed up the piece of paper she’d just written on. Her nostrils flared and she kept her lips pursed shut to keep her frustration in. She tried to sound as calm as possible: ‘Just a suggestion, but perhaps that should have been the first thing you told me?’ She then slammed the phone down. ‘She’s dead. Cancer. Last year.’ At that moment, Anik’s name popped up on her screen as he attempted to FaceTime again. Laura clicked accept.
‘We got cut off.’ Anik always got flustered by temperamental technology. He was very tech-savvy until something went wrong, and then he was useless. ‘Is Jack still there? I missed what he said.’ Jack stood just out of view, shaking his head. ‘He said I’ve proved myself to be a real... something. That’s where we got cut off.’
‘Asset.’ Laura spoke with a completely straight face. ‘He said you’re a right asset.’ Anik looked as if he didn’t quite believe her. ‘Listen, Anik, Ingrid Boogaard is a dead end. Literally. When are the Chis arriving with us?’
‘They were on the 2 p.m. flight, so they should be with you soon. I don’t need to stay out here any longer, do I?’ Laura said that she’d confirm with Ridley whether or not Anik could head home. ‘Cool. Thanks, Laura... oh, and tell Jack I think he’s a right “asset” too!’ Anik cut Laura off so that he had the joy of having the last word.
For the next hour, Jack and Laura discussed possible next courses of action. They now had the lists from Hutchinson, showing insurance companies involved with the Jenkinses through the years, an inventory of items insured, and the more recent inventory given to Hutchinson by Terence Jenkins. They also had the Leeds connection — although the boy in the school uniform from the photo had turned out to be Avril’s brother David and not Adam Border as they had originally suspected. However, that didn’t mean that Adam never went to school in Leeds. Laura said she’d approach the school again and ask if they had ever had any children called Boogaard.
As it got to lunchtime — Jack was more than ready to take a break from sitting at a desk staring at paperwork — a uniformed PC entered and announced that Mr and Mrs Chi had just walked into reception. Jack asked that they be taken into the soft interview room. ‘They’ve not long landed from Amsterdam. Please make sure they’re looked after — tea, sandwiches, whatever they want. On us, of course.’ Jack then turned his attention to Laura. ‘Foxy knows they’re coming today, right? Anik did tell him?’
Laura grabbed her coffee and headed out with Jack. She said that she’d stretch her legs by running over to the mortuary to tell Foxy that he was about to have visitors, and Jack should keep the Chis occupied until she texted him to say that Jessica was ready to be viewed. She’d then meet them there in case Mrs Chi needed a shoulder to cry on.
In the soft interview room, Henrick and Matilda Chi sat huddled together on one sofa. Her arm was linked through his and she held a cup of black coffee tightly in both hands. Henrick’s hands lay flat on his knees in an attempt to seem calm. He wasn’t. Neither of them had really accepted that their daughter was dead. They’d heard the words from Anik, and again in more recent days from Garritt, but their brains were simply not ready to process the information and accept it as being true. For now, they were on autopilot. Neither of them moved or said a word when Jack entered and introduced himself. In the time it took Jack to walk across the room and sit down on the sofa opposite, he’d noticed that, between them, they’d brought one artist’s folio case and one lady’s handbag. They looked at Jack like lost children waiting to be told what they were meant to be doing next.