Shame the Devil, page 11
He rubbed a hand on his slacks as he thought about the question. ‘Off the top of my head, no. I suppose you have considered Laurence?’ He gave another toothy smile. ‘Well, of course you have. I imagine he’s the obvious suspect here, though from what I know about him, he’s no more a killer than I am. But no, to answer your question, I can’t think of anyone who would want to harm Susan. She never mentioned feeling threatened and she wasn’t the sort who made enemies easily. I wouldn’t dream of telling you how to do your job, but if I were you I’d be looking for some maniac who attacks women. If you read the newspapers, the world seems to be full of them.’
‘Did she ever mention someone called Kieran Judd?’
Again, he rubbed his leg as he gave the question some thought. ‘Not that I recall.’
‘Or did she say anything about being followed, or having received any strange phone calls?’
‘Strange phone calls…? No, nothing like that. I know I keep saying it, but no one was threatening her. People liked Susan… she was good at her job and she was popular. I can assure you that whoever did this wasn’t someone Susan knew.’
Molly was beginning to think the main thing Susan Elliot and Kieran Judd had in common was that they didn’t seem to have any obvious enemies. Was being too nice a reason to murder someone?
She stood to leave, thanking Greg Lawton as he showed her out. She didn’t leave her card to ask him to get in touch if he thought of anything; it was obvious he knew very little about Susan Elliot’s life and Molly didn’t feel particularly comfortable at the thought of being contacted by Greg Lawton.
As she headed back to her car, she wondered what women saw in a man like that. But people had so often said that about her and Jon. Sometimes Cupid behaved in a way that wasn’t obvious.
She was on the point of reaching into her bag for her car keys when her phone rang. It was the school where Susan Elliot had worked.
‘Hello, DS Fisher?’
‘Hello,’ the voice said, ‘I’m returning your call from earlier. This is Hazel Kelly. I’m the principal teacher at Our Lady of the Convent School. You left a message with a colleague asking about Susan Elliot?’
Molly confirmed this and asked how long Susan Elliot had worked at the school.
‘Susan had only been with us for a couple of years. She was initially known by her maiden name of Milton when she first started there. She was known as Mrs Elliot after she married. I did suggest she kept Milton, at least for a while, as the children knew her by that, but it was almost as though she was keen to be rid of it.’
Susan Milton, Molly thought to herself. Was that significant? They’d run the name Susan Elliot through the PNC on the off-chance that something might come up, but nothing had. Perhaps the name Susan Milton might produce something.
‘Could you do me a favour, Hazel?’ Molly asked as she dug in her pocket for the car key. ‘Could you get me a list of all the schools where Susan Milton worked previously?’
There was a pause from the other end of the line. ‘Well, I don’t know about all the schools where she worked, but I could certainly find the last two. It would have been on her application form. We’ve still got a copy. She would be registered with the teaching authority of England, and the local authority would have a record of her employment if you want to go further back than that.’
‘OK, thanks. I’ll start with the last two schools. If I need to dig further, I’ll contact the relevant authorities.’
Molly thanked her and rang off. Now that it looked like they could discount Susan Elliot’s love life as the reason for her murder, she had a feeling that the answers might lie in her professional life. And if she could find a definite link between Susan Milton and Kieran Judd, then they might just finally start making some progress with this case.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Denning was surprised to get a call from Maria Hallam. He was in the car at the time, so he answered on hands-free. Her voice reverberated around the small space until he adjusted the sound and could hear her without his ears hurting. She told him she wanted to meet, but away from her home. Her neighbour had agreed to look after the children, so she suggested they meet in a park not far from her home.
Denning’s first thought was that this was some kind of trap. What – and who – would he find waiting for him when he got there. But curiosity got the better of him and he agreed to meet her.
When he got there, he found her sitting on a bench near some swings. She looked like she’d been crying.
‘Tony’s been round,’ she said, fixing Denning with a doleful look. ‘He came to see me this morning.’ She bit her lower lip. ‘He knows I’ve been talking to you.’
‘Did he threaten you?’ Denning could tell something wasn’t right. ‘If he has, we can speak to him, warn him off…’
‘No. He didn’t threaten me, at least not in so many words. He just made it clear he didn’t like me talking to the police. He still reckons you framed him the last time he was sent down. I told him about the murder, and about how you think his life is in danger, but he said it was all rubbish. Well, he didn’t say “rubbish”, but you get my drift…’
Denning did. All too clearly. Hallam was obviously rattled, and it wasn’t entirely down to the death threat. ‘We do believe his life may be in danger,’ Denning said, trying to reassure her. ‘It’s not “rubbish”, and because of that we had a right to warn him to be careful.’
Maria Hallam bit her lip again. ‘He thinks you’re playing games with him. He thinks it’s some kind of ploy to catch him out.’
‘Catch him out? Catch him out at what exactly?’
She didn’t answer, and Denning sensed that she’d said more than she’d wanted to. He tried to reassure her, or at least get him to tell her more. ‘Maria, what’s going on between Tony and Declan? As far as I was aware, they hated each other. Now you tell me that’s not the case. What’s really going on here? What are they up to?’
‘They’re not up to anything.’ She paused. ‘At least not far as I know.’ She blew her nose on a paper hankie. ‘Declan doesn’t speak to me. And today was the first time I’ve seen Tony since he got out. Neither of them would be happy if they knew I was here talking to you.’
She seemed frightened, like a caged animal knowing it was facing threat. But getting her to open up to him wasn’t going to be easy, even if she had taken the first big step of agreeing to meet with him. ‘Maria, do you know something’s going on? Is that why Tony’s so agitated about us speaking to him?’
She looked at Denning. ‘I need you to keep away from Tony. And Declan. If they knew I was speaking to you now…’
‘What, Maria? What would they do? If you’re scared of them…’
‘It’s not that. I can handle Declan and Tony. They’d never hurt me. Or the kids. It’s just that sometimes they don’t think of the consequences. Like I told you last time, they’ve been mates for a long time, way before I came on the scene.’
‘I think you’re scared of him. We can protect you. There are places you can go.’
‘Some awful shelter, where I’d be living in constant fear that he could track me down. No thank you. I’d rather take my chances with him. But those chances would be a lot better if you left him alone.’
‘I can’t make empty promises. If Tony is planning something – something illegal – then we’ll arrest him, simple as that. I can try to keep your name out of it and I can offer you police protection if you think you’re in danger, but I can’t turn a blind eye to law-breaking. If you really want me to help, let’s make this official.’
She looked at him pleadingly, her face twisted, tortured, her eyes meeting his. ‘Well, don’t say I didn’t warn you. Whatever happens next, I tried my best to stop you. None of this is on me.’
He opened his mouth to say something, but Maria Hallam was already on her feet and walking away. He could go after her, but would there be any point? She was clearly not going to tell him anything useful. As he watched her walk away, he wondered what that had really been about? Was she genuinely scared about what her husband might do, or was that some kind of warning? And if she was frightened of Tony Hallam, what was it that made her so scared of her ex-husband? There was a court order out against him, ensuring he kept away from his wife and children. If he was in breach of that, then he could be recalled to prison in a moment.
And then there was the biggest question of all: what exactly were Tony Hallam and Declan Meech planning that was making them so nervous around the police?
Chapter Twenty-Six
Molly had convinced herself that this visit to Cassie Bane was purely professional. She needed to clear up the details about Kieran’s work history. If the FLO was around – which seemed unlikely as they were more overstretched than the rest of them put together – then she would fob her off with a good story. Molly sometimes alarmed herself at just how good a liar she’d become over the years.
Though to be fair, it wasn’t a lie. She did need to ask Cassie some further questions. This case was unravelling faster than a ball of wool being toyed with by an eager kitten. She now knew the answers lay with Susan Elliot and Kieran Judd, and Cassie was best placed to help answer some of those questions.
But, if she was being completely honest with herself, there was more to it than that. She was concerned about Cassie. And Arthur. She knew the FLO would put Cassie in touch with various organisations who would be able to help her out financially as well as with any grief counselling and emotional support she might need.
However, Molly just couldn’t help feeling sorry for her on a personal level: she was a young woman who was struggling to come to terms with having her life suddenly and brutally torn apart, all the time trying to keep things as normal as possible for the sake of her son.
As she rang the bell for Cassie’s flat, she knew what Denning’s reaction would be: accusing her of getting too involved with a victim. Overstepping a boundary that was in place for a reason. Subtly implying a lack of professionalism. But she couldn’t help how she felt…
Cassie smiled when she opened the door. ‘DS Fisher. Come in.’
‘As I’ve already told you,’ she said as Cassie showed her into the tiny flat, ‘call me Molly.’
Cassie looked tired. Molly suspected she wasn’t sleeping, which was understandable under the circumstances. She wondered just how much help the FLO was being. ‘Can I get you something to drink?’ Cassie asked. She showed Molly into the tiny living room and indicated for her to sit down. Molly sat herself on the sofa opposite the fireplace, while Cassie took her usual chair in the corner.
‘No. Thank you, and I really can’t stay long.’ Molly didn’t want to put Cassie to any more trouble than she had to. And it really was true that she didn’t have a lot of time. If she’d been honest, this could have been done by phone. ‘How are you getting on?’
‘OK, I suppose. It still feels very strange. I do appreciate everything you’re doing for me.’
Molly only wished they were doing more. She had hoped she would have been able to offer Cassie some positive news by now.
‘I just need to ask you some more questions about Kieran,’ she said. ‘I know it must feel like we’ve been over everything a thousand times, but hopefully this is the last time I’ll need to speak to you.’
Cassie nodded. ‘If it helps find Kieran’s killer, then I don’t mind.’
‘Did Kieran ever work as a teaching assistant in a primary school?’
She thought for a moment. ‘I’m not sure. It’s possible… He did mention something about having once worked in a school and he’d thought about training as a teacher, but he decided it wasn’t for him.’
‘Did he say why he changed his mind?’
‘He just said teaching was too much responsibility and he didn’t think he was suited to it.’
‘I’m not saying this is significant, but it might be worth looking into anyway. Do you know which school he worked in, and when?’
She rubbed a hand over her cheek. ‘I don’t know. It was before we met. All I know is that he wasn’t there for very long, just a few months. Which wasn’t like Kieran: he usually stuck at a job, even if he didn’t always enjoy it.’
‘But you can’t remember the name of the school?’
‘No, sorry. And he never said why he left.’
She thought about something, but looked like she wasn’t sure what to say.
‘Go on,’ Molly prompted. ‘Anything you can tell me might be useful.’
Cassie drew her legs up on the chair and tucked them under her. ‘He told me he left a job a couple of years ago because of something that happened. He wouldn’t go into detail, and I assumed it was something like bullying, but it could have been the school he worked in.’
Could have… ‘But you can’t be sure?’
She shook her head. ‘Look, I really don’t know what I’m talking about. We’ve all left jobs we hated for all sorts of reasons. It doesn’t mean something bad happened.’
‘But you think it’s possible Kieran might have once worked in a school?’
‘Yes, it’s possible.’
‘Cassie, I know this is a bit of a long shot, are you sure the name Susan Elliot doesn’t ring a bell? Kieran might have known her as Susan Milton.’
‘Susan Milton… No, I don’t recognise the name. Wasn’t Susan Elliot that woman who was stabbed to death the other day? Do you think that’s got something to do with what happened to Kieran?’
Molly tried to reassure her. ‘We don’t know at this stage. But it is possible they might have known each other.’ She smiled at Cassie. ‘If you could think of the name of the school where Kieran worked, it would be a great help.’
‘I could look for his CV,’ she said. ‘He might have had a copy on his laptop.’ She looked at Molly. ‘It does feel a bit like prying though.’
Molly tried to reassure her. ‘It would help, Cassie.’
She headed over to a corner beside the bucket chair. Kieran’s laptop was sitting with the lid closed. She picked it up, carried it over to the sofa, and sat down next to Molly before opening the lid. There was a photo of Kieran, Cassie and Arthur taken at Bodiam Castle, smiling with the ruined building behind them. ‘That was taken earlier this summer,’ Cassie said, reading Molly’s thoughts.
Molly smiled. The screensaver on her laptop was one of her and Jon, but she’d recently changed it to a more generic one of a lake.
Luckily Cassie knew the password to get in. There were several icons indicating Windows folders. One said Work underneath and Cassie clicked on that. One of the Word documents said CV. She opened it and read over it. It outlined Kieran’s educational and work background: he had a degree in Sports Science and a certificate in life-saving and another in CPR. Under Work Experience it listed half a dozen jobs, about average for someone his age.
Molly studied the CV carefully. If he’d hated the job and left under questionable circumstance, then it was possible he may not have listed his time as a teaching assistant. But it was there: just over two years as a TA at Thomas Blake Primary School in Chiswick. There was no reason given for his leaving.
Thomas Blake Primary School… Not the same as Our Lady of the Convent, but if Susan Elliot had worked there then they might finally be on to something…
‘What do you think?’ Cassie asked. ‘Could it be relevant?’
‘I don’t know. But I think it’s worth looking into.’
Chapter Twenty-Seven
The young woman introduced herself as Alice Hennicke. Sporting short, spikey blond hair and a pair of slightly over-sized glasses, she informed Molly that she was the school secretary. She smiled, apologising that Rachel Atherton, the head teacher, was tied up, and would Molly mind waiting. ‘She shouldn’t be long,’ Alice said, pointing at a padded chair halfway down a whitewashed corridor that seemed to lead to a vast, airy assembly hall at one end and a cafeteria at the other. A smell of chips and baked potato emanated from the direction of the cafeteria. ‘If you don’t mind waiting…’
Molly stubbornly refused to take a seat. It would have reminded her too much of her own time at school – a time she hated so much she’d almost banished it from her memory. Even being back in one now made her uncomfortable.
The name plate on the door said (Mrs) Rachel Atherton – Head Teacher. She suspected this was what head teachers did: made people – children and adults alike – wait in the corridor in an attempt to boost their own sense of self-importance. Then again, perhaps she was being unfair. Maybe she was making an important phone call, or in a meeting that couldn’t be rearranged just because a police officer was conducting a murder inquiry…
Molly used the time to look around. Thomas Blake Primary School had been built, she guessed, from the sharp lines and white-painted breezeblock walls, sometime in the 1960s, possibly the early 1970s. Children’s drawings adorned the walls; there was a smell of pine disinfectant mixing with the mushy aroma of the lunchtime offerings coming from the cafeteria’s kitchen at the end of the corridor. Just along from the head teacher’s door was a glass cabinet with a picture pyramid of staff members and their job titles. Rachel Atherton’s photo was at the top of the pyramid. She had a scrubbed and professional no-nonsense look about her that reminded Molly, very slightly, of Betty Taggart.
Beside the staff board was a cork-tile board, with children’s pictures pinned to it: mostly scribbled drawings of happy family scenes. Molly thought about her own fractured childhood. And then she found herself thinking about Arthur and what the future would hold for him.
Her thoughts were disturbed when the head teacher’s door opened suddenly and a child of about five walked out, his face a mask of injured innocence. A few seconds later, Rachel Atherton stuck her head out the door and asked Molly to come in.
The office was neat, professional and lined in stained wood. There was a framed picture on the wall of a severe-looking woman in a bun, whom Molly assumed was the school’s original headmistress. The woman currently occupying that role had her hand outstretched and she shook it, acknowledging the steely grip she received in return. Whilst Rachel Atherton didn’t look quite as severe as the woman in the painting, there was certainly a superficial resemblance.
