A Silent Truth, page 17
‘Oh.’
Hearing the disappointment in his voice, she looked closer and took in the dark circles under his eyes.
‘Did you have a concert last night?’ she said, slipping a new tape into the recording machine.
‘No. I, um… I haven’t been sleeping that well since you told me about Sonya being found like that.’ Rossbay removed his camel-coloured wool coat and looked around for a hook. ‘Hot in here, isn’t it?’
‘It’s one extreme to the other down here, I’m afraid,’ said Jan. ‘And you’ll have to put that on the table or the spare chair there. We can’t have anything like hooks in the rooms, just in case.’
His eyes widened. ‘Oh. Oh yes, I see.’
Colouring a little, he shuffled from side to side, then wrinkled his top lip at the chipped and scarred table surface before folding the coat over his arm and sitting opposite Jan.
‘Did you speak to your parents after we came to see you on Monday?’ she asked.
‘Yes. Thank you, by the way. I did go and stay with them.’ His blush deepened. ‘I didn’t want to be on my own in the house. Hilary’s back on Monday but it just seems too empty at the moment.’
‘I understand. I’m glad you’ve got someone to talk to.’
‘Me too.’ He straightened. ‘Is this what they call “helping police with their enquiries”, then?’
She smiled. ‘No. This is what we call a voluntary interview. I’ll still recite a formal caution, just in case I learn something that could help our investigation, but you’re not under arrest and you’re under no obligation to answer my questions. We can stop at any time, too – just say so. Sound good?’
He nodded vigorously, his hair falling in his eyes once more and she wondered how on earth he made it through a whole concert without blinding himself.
‘Ah, yes. All good.’
‘Great. Here we go, then.’ She went through the formalities, then shifted in the hard chair until she found a modicum of comfort in the meagre plastic padding. ‘Right, thanks for your help on Monday, Spencer. When we spoke to you, you said you’d last seen Sonya three months ago. Can you recall where, and perhaps exactly when?’
Rossbay frowned, then reached into his trouser pocket and dragged out a phone. ‘I can’t, but I’m sure I’ll have something in my calendar. I can’t live without lists,’ he said, already scrolling. ‘If I don’t write something down, I forget.’
‘You and me both,’ Jan said, matching the bright smile he gave her.
‘I know it was the day after our quartet had played at a wedding in Banbury. Expensive do, too. I think Hilary found that gig. It paid good money but… I wasn’t the only one who noticed Sonya was off colour that day. She looked tired, and cocked up a couple of times. Nothing that the reception party noticed, but it was clear to the rest of us that her playing was suffering more and more.’
‘What did you do?’
‘Ah, here it is. It was eleven weeks ago, so not quite three months. The gig was on the Saturday evening, and I phoned her on the Monday asking her to meet me for coffee that morning.’
‘How did that go?’
‘Ugh. About as bad as you’d expect. No one else had the balls to mention it, so they left it to me to swing the hatchet.’ Rossbay sighed. ‘Honestly, you’d think she’d realise what was going to happen, the way she’d been carrying on but I think it knocked her for six.’
‘Is that when you argued?’
He nodded, putting the phone away. ‘Yes. She stormed out of the café. I was going to go after her, but then I thought, bollocks. It’s not me who’s in the wrong, and if she can’t accept responsibility then it’s her problem. God, I wish now I had run after her. I wish I’d pestered her until she’d told me what was really going on. Do you think I could have stopped someone killing her if I had?’
Jan reached out and patted the young man’s hand. ‘No, I don’t think so, Spencer. I think you probably did everything you could to accommodate her by the sound of it.’
‘Hmm. Maybe.’
Jan skimmed through her notes. ‘When we last spoke, you mentioned that you don’t know any of Sonya’s friends or family. What about acquaintances, people who perhaps you both had common interests with?’
She watched while Rossbay sucked in his bottom lip, his eyes finding the ceiling tiles.
‘What about other people you saw around her at any time, then?’ she prompted. ‘Did she ever have people approaching her at your concerts, things like that?’
‘Every now and again, yes.’ He pulled back his fringe between his fingers before dropping his hand to his pocket once more. ‘I might have some email addresses or something like that on my phone – if someone did speak to her at those, it was usually because we left her in charge of the marketing like I said. So she’d be handing out business cards with the group’s email address on. We’d all get copied in for information but left it to her to respond.’
‘That would be useful, thanks,’ said Jan, updating her notes.
‘You should probably speak to the university about the two concerts she played at before she quit too – they were ticketed events so they might still have contact details for everyone who came.’
She flashed him a smile. ‘I will, that’s a good idea.’
‘Apart from that, I really don’t know who she hung around with,’ said Rossbay. ‘I’m sorry, but we moved in different social circles outside the group’s bookings and practices.’
‘No problem.’ Jan formally ended the interview and popped the tape from the machine. ‘Thanks again for coming in.’
After showing Rossbay through to reception, she made her way back up the stairs, lost in thought.
How on earth had Sonya managed to keep her extracurricular activities from her quartet companions for so long?
And what was it about the burglaries she was committing on her own that she didn’t want to share with Nolan Creasey?
When she walked into the incident room, Mark’s chair was empty and Kennedy’s office door was closed.
The tiny fine hairs on the back of her neck stood on end at the muted atmosphere amongst her colleagues, and she caught Caroline’s eye as she sat and woke up her computer screen.
‘All right, what did I miss?’
Caroline opened her mouth to reply, but Kennedy’s door ripped open and the DI leaned out.
‘Jan? Got a minute?’
She hurried over, Kennedy shutting the door behind her before moving to his desk and sinking into his seat.
Turpin looked up from one of the visitor chairs, his face furious.
‘What on earth happened?’ she said. ‘You two look apoplectic.’
In response, Kennedy turned his computer screen.
An enlarged photograph of Nolan Creasey leaving the police station the previous night was emblazoned across it, his face clearly visible while he watched the passing traffic and held a phone to his ear. Beside it, a headline screamed for attention, staying just the right side of defamation while managing to suggest he was linked to the death of Sonya Raynott.
‘Shit,’ Jan managed.
‘They somehow got his name as well,’ said Turpin.
‘I’ll string up the fucking journalist when I find out who he is,’ Kennedy rasped, jabbing his finger at the offending text. ‘Staff reporter, my arse.’
‘I’ve just spoken to Creasey’s solicitor,’ Turpin said. ‘She’ll warn her client not to speak to anyone. Hopefully no one figures out where his place in Boars Hill is and he can keep his head down until his court appearance.’
Kennedy groaned. ‘I’d better give the CPS a call too. Melrose is already speaking to the editor of the newspaper.’
‘How the hell did the reporter find out who he was?’ said Jan. ‘It can’t be anyone here, surely? Everyone wants to find out who murdered Sonya – they wouldn’t jeopardise the investigation like this, would they?’
‘We think it was luck,’ said Turpin. ‘Word got around via Creasey’s old workplace and his neighbour at Lockinge no doubt so the reporter and photographer knew whoever we arrested would be brought here. While the photographer waits on the other side of the road, the reporter could’ve been lurking anywhere near that front door and overheard the phone conversation.’
Jan leaned against the filing cabinet. ‘What do we do, guv?’
‘We’re stuck until Jasper gets those lab test results to us, and he reckons that won’t be until Monday,’ Kennedy said resignedly. ‘You may as well both take tomorrow off – there’s no point us all trying to work while we’re exhausted. Come in on Sunday and I’ll speak to the editor of the newspaper again. With any luck I can persuade him not to sell the story to the national press, otherwise whoever killed Sonya is going to go to ground.’
‘We can count out Targethen as a suspect while we’re at it,’ Turpin added, turning to Jan. ‘I finished speaking to him five minutes before you got up here, and apart from a couple of blokes uniform had already arrested for other thefts last month, he didn’t have any other names.’
‘Christ,’ she said. ‘We’re back to square one, aren’t we?’
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
The following morning, Mark stood on the towpath upstream from the narrowboat with Jan’s twin boys and a pair of bright orange fishing nets.
‘Right, you two – there are only a couple of rules. One, don’t fall in, and two – if you do, don’t let your mum see.’
Luke giggled, holding out his hand. ‘Okay. What can we catch?’
‘That’s half the fun – you’ll have to find out.’ Mark handed the other net to Harry, then peered into the shallow water nearest to them. ‘Although by the look of it, minnows are your best bet. Where’s your jam jar?’
‘Here.’ Harry turned and held up a large empty marmalade pot.
Taking it from him, Mark scooped up some water before setting it to one side. When he straightened, he saw Jan appear from the narrowboat’s cabin with a mug of tea in her hand before she climbed over the gunwale and settled into one of the deck chairs Lucy had put on the towpath.
Sunlight dappled the watercourse, sparkling off the bow wave from a pair of swans that gracefully paddled past. A light breeze ruffled the boys’ waterproof coats, carrying with it the sound of Saturday morning traffic from the bridge.
‘Have you ever caught anything in here?’ said Luke, already dipping his net into the water with a practised flourish.
‘No – although I’ll admit I haven’t tried.’ Mark pointed to the lock farther upstream. ‘You can only do proper fishing past that, and I’ve never bothered getting a licence.’
Harry looked troubled. ‘Are we allowed to do this, then?’
‘Sure, you’ll be all right. Besides, we’ll pop everything back in the water when we’re done.’
Happier, the boys crouched closer to the water’s edge and soon their gentle banter fell quiet as each became entranced with the small creatures they could see darting above the clay silt.
Mark glanced down as Hamish scampered from the narrowboat, closely followed by Lucy who ambled after him, a coffee mug in her hand.
‘You’re a gem,’ he said, kissing her. ‘Thanks.’
‘All the food’s prepped. You’ll just need to fire up the barbecue when the boys are done here. Jan says Scott should be here in an hour, just as soon as he’s finished doing a quote for a customer.’ She smiled when Harry peered up at them. ‘Caught anything yet?’
‘They’re too fast,’ he grumbled, turning back to the water.
Lucy chuckled, squeezed Mark’s hand, and wandered back to where Jan sat, Hamish at her heels.
Mark had suggested the brunch date with Jan and her family when they’d left the incident room last night, reluctant to take Kennedy’s advice about taking a day off.
He knew the impact exhaustion could have on a large investigation team, and despite waking up with a lingering guilt that they were no closer to identifying Sonya’s killer, he was looking forward to the day ahead.
Having two ten-year-olds to keep entertained would stop him worrying for a couple of hours, at least.
‘Got one,’ Luke sang out. He held up his net, a small minnow writhing inside.
‘Quick, pop him in the jar then. Otherwise he’ll die. We don’t want that.’
Mark gently untangled the net and slipped the fish into the water. Handing back the net, his attention was caught by Jan suddenly leaning forward in her chair, phone to her ear.
A few seconds later, she was hurrying along the towpath towards him, her features bleak.
He exhaled, steadying his heart rate as he took in the look of shock on her face.
‘Er, boys. Might have to stop what we’re doing here for now. Sorry, but I think your mum and I are going back to work.’
Harry rose to his feet and handed back the net. ‘I haven’t caught anything anyway.’
‘I think we scared the others away,’ Luke added.
‘Mark?’ Jan gave her boys a sunny smile, then pulled him to one side. ‘Caroline just called. It’s not good news.’
‘Where…?’
Jan shook her head and turned to the twins. ‘Do you two fancy waiting with Lucy until your dad gets here, and then you can still have your barbecue?’
‘Yes!’ Luke grinned. ‘I thought you were going to make us go home.’
‘As if I’d make you miss out on food.’
Mark took the nets from the boys as he watched Harry gently pour the contents of the jam jar back into the river and then hurried back to the narrowboat in their wake. He gave Lucy an apologetic smile when she placed the nets on the narrowboat’s roof to dry off.
‘I’ll take you out to lunch when all this is over, promise,’ he said.
‘You heard that, Jan.’ She grinned. ‘I’ve got a witness.’
Jan looked longingly at the barbecue set up on the deck and sighed. ‘Shame we hadn’t made a start. We could’ve had a takeaway.’
They said their goodbyes, and fell into step across the meadow, the long grass flapping at their heels.
‘Okay, what did Caroline say?’ Mark asked. ‘What’s this all about?’
‘She and Alex were sent over to Boars Hill twenty minutes ago.’
‘Boars…’ Mark’s heart rate spiked. ‘Nolan Creasey?’
‘It doesn’t sound good, Sarge. Someone attacked him and left him for dead.’
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
Jan swung her car through the open gates of the Boars Hill address then braked hard, a gasp escaping her lips.
‘Shit, Caroline wasn’t kidding.’
Three patrol cars cluttered the driveway with Jasper’s van alongside one of them while a mixture of uniformed officers and CSI specialists traipsed back and forth from the open front door of the property.
She parked off to one side, away from the commotion, and pointed through the windscreen. ‘There’s Alex.’
‘Let’s find out what’s been going on.’
Mark strode towards the young DC, rolling down his shirt sleeves and buttoning the cuffs to offset the cool air under the enormous conifers that bordered the driveway.
‘Sarge, you made it.’ The relief in Alex’s eyes matched his voice. ‘Caroline said she’d spoken to Jan, but I didn’t know if you––’
‘Where’s Creasey?’ Jan asked. ‘What the hell’s been going on here?’
‘Okay, so the ambulance took him about ten minutes ago – he was still breathing but he was unconscious when his father found him, and there’s blood everywhere.’ Alex led the way over to the front door, which was now being taped off by Jasper. ‘Can we go inside?’
‘There are spare suits in the back of the van,’ said the CSI lead. ‘Get them on, and I’ll take you in.’
Mark took one of the sealed packs Alex handed to him, pulled on the protective booties and steadied Jan while she did the same.
‘Did Creasey’s father see anyone leaving the house when he arrived?’ he said when they walked back to where Jasper waited.
‘I don’t think so,’ said Alex. ‘Caroline’s interviewing him now, and then she’s going to take him to the hospital.’
Handing the roll of barrier tape to one of his colleagues, Jasper pointed to the door frame as they passed.
‘Neither this nor the back door was forced open,’ he said. ‘So whoever attacked him was invited in.’
‘Or Creasey opened the door, and was then pushed back inside,’ Mark suggested, gesturing to the scuff marks down one side of the hallway wall. ‘Where did they go from here?’
‘This way.’ Jasper turned, his booties sliding on the chequered tiled floor. ‘After he answered the door, it looks like he was pursued through here.’
‘Pursued?’ Mark frowned, then followed him into a reception room and stopped, stunned. ‘Jesus.’
Blood streaked the tiles and splattered the plasterwork beside a plush three-seat sofa, a large stain smudging its way down the wall before pooling across the floor next to a small wooden table.
‘I’m thinking Creasey tried to use the sofa as a barrier between him and his attacker,’ said Jasper. ‘But it looks like he was cornered here, and that’s where the majority of the attack took place. The blood between the front door and here would suggest whoever did this managed to stab him as soon as the door was forced open.’
‘The paramedics said he had several stab wounds,’ Alex added. ‘There were defensive wounds to his wrists and hands, but most of the damage was caused by one to his stomach, and another to his neck.’
Mark pursed his lips while he surveyed the scene, taking in an upturned table lamp and small wooden coffee table. ‘Will you try to lift prints off of these?’
‘Absolutely.’ Jasper pointed to several plastic markers placed around the room. ‘We’ve found blood spots over here, and a partial footprint. As for the results, tell Kennedy we’ll do our best.’
‘Thanks. All right, we’ll get out of your way.’
Once outside, Mark stripped off the protective suit and stuffed it into a biohazard bin in the back of Jasper’s van, turning as Caroline emerged from the rear of the property, her face wan.
