Lynda La Plante - Hidden Killers

‘That’s good news. Is there anything I can do to help with lunch?’ Jane said.

‘No no, dear, everything’s done but the dessert. Pam’s back at work and might even win the colouring competition as they have to cut and recolour and style with models. I doubt Tony will be all that interested, but they have a double room at a very nice hotel,’ Mrs Tennison said proudly.

‘That’s good,’ Jane said, as her attention was drawn to a newspaper placed on the sideboard while her mother added the finishing touches to lunch. She picked it up and took it into the sitting room, never having time to read the newspaper while at work. She was shocked at the headline, ‘Murder in the Bath accused couple to stand trial’, and the press coverage was extensive, with photographs of Katrina Harcourt being led into the court. The redhead was smiling as if enjoying the moment, unlike the photographs of Barry Dawson who had a blanket covering his head. By the time Jane had finished reading the article her father had opened a bottle of wine.

‘That’s a shocking case, isn’t it?’

‘Yes, the CID at the station investigated and it was a very complicated case as the young wife in the bath was wrongly diagnosed as being a non-suspicious death, but when we had a second post-mortem it revealed another wound had been inflicted. The suspects were having an affair and it was a very complicated inquiry to be able to charge them with murder. The trial will not go ahead for months.’

‘Good God, and she looks such an attractive woman! So were you involved in the investigation?’

Jane hesitated and then nodded, but not wanting to go into details she collected the newspapers and stacked them ready to be thrown out.

Her mother, who had overheard the conversation, found it difficult to ask Jane about her work as a police officer. She gave her husband a shake of her head as a warning not to continue. Her father steered the conversation back to safer waters, but after a couple of glasses of wine, while Mrs Tennison tried to make a crème brûlée, her father topped up her glass and asked quietly, ‘So it must have been quite a time for you at Bow Street?’

Jane raised her glass and took a sip. How could she even begin to explain about the tragic murder of Shirley Dawson, or the forthcoming trial of Peter Allard? To tell him about the time spent in and around the sex shops and strip joints of Soho, or even the interaction with the beautiful Janet Brown? It was all so far removed from the warmth and normality of being at home with her family.

They sat down together and enjoyed the main course but her mother was in a state of anxiety as the toffee crisp on top of her crème brûlée had hardened like cement and her father was worried he’d break the denture plate in his mouth.

‘I must have used too much sugar; it’s not that bad is it, Jane?’ her mother asked.

‘No, it’s fine,’ she said with clenched teeth.

‘It’s supposed to just crack when you tap it with a spoon.’

‘You should have used a hammer!’ her father said.

This made Jane smile, and as they were trying to chew through the very hard topping, all three of them suddenly started laughing.

‘It’s so good to be home,’ Jane said, feeling emotional.

Her father screwed up his face again as he chewed and then swallowed.

‘Well, it’s perfect for us to have you safe and sound, because we miss you.’

The phone suddenly started ringing in the hallway. Mr Tennison stood up and went to answer it. A moment later he called out to Jane.

‘It’s for you, Jane.’

‘For me?’ she asked, surprised. She walked over and took the receiver from her father.

‘Hello?’ she said into the mouthpiece.

‘Jane, it’s me, Spence. I’m in a callbox at the end of your road… I need to see you. Can you come and meet me?’

Jane laughed. ‘Are you asking me out on a date, Spence?’

‘No… we’ve got a nightmare on our hands, Jane. Peter Allard’s been released.’

‘Give me five minutes, all right?’

Jane didn’t want to show her parents how disturbed she was by Gibbs’s phone call.

‘I’m sorry, but I have to go in to the station. There’s some confusion about one of my reports.’

‘Oh, don’t you have time for a coffee?’ her mother asked.

‘No, Mum, I’m sorry but if I can I’ll come back later.’

She walked down to the end of the road and found Gibbs standing beside a patrol car parked next to the callbox.

‘Is this a joke, Spence?’

‘No, it’s deadly serious. Moran is going crazy. Apparently Marie got a call from him from the prison, and even though she was warned not to mention anything or refer to the present inquiry about Susie Luna, she told Allard she wanted a divorce, that she knew about Angie.’

‘What?’

‘Yeah, her idea of revenge, but the stupid bitch has really screwed up because he’s fucking got compassionate bail until his trial.’

‘I don’t believe it, not after what we uncovered about his connection to Susie Luna.’

‘You don’t understand, Jane… that’s an entirely separate investigation, and if they find a body they can arrest him straight after the trial.’

‘But you’re not even working on Allard’s case. What do you want me to do?’

‘I know I’m bloody not, but Moran wants protection for Janet Brown. He contacted me because he knew that we had taken her to her mother-in-law’s flat at the council estate. So I need you to come with me to go back there again and get her into protective custody.’

When DI Moran found out, he was apoplectic with fury. He had only just returned from Maidstone where Scenes of Crime officers were waiting for permission to lift the paving stones from the small patio garden of the property that had been rented by Allard. They had run into a problem as the actual owner of the house had sublet it and they would require his permission to begin working. DC Edwards had also discovered that the garden had only been paved over during Allard’s occupation. They had no option but to wait for permission to start digging.

Moran’s blood pressure was going through the roof. He had contacted Detective Chief Superintendent Metcalf and wanted to update him on the Susie Luna case and he had agreed to come into the station, but he had to wait for over an hour.

‘Sir, all I was told when I was at Maidstone was that a trial date had been set for two weeks’ time. I’ve now been informed that they have released Peter Allard on compassionate grounds. They’ve just let a killer walk out, sir.’

Metcalf gestured for Moran to calm down.

‘I can’t do anything about that, because this is a very complex situation, Nick. I don’t want to have to underline this to you but it is the inconsistencies in Allard’s confession that have given the barristers and the judge the opportunity to release him. Apparently his wife wanted to divorce him and take his children and he begged to be given the opportunity to see her.’

‘Yes, I know that, sir, and I want her and their two children put into protective custody, because if he is on the loose God knows what he is going to do. And we now have a strong witness that has agreed to identify him with evidence on the rape charge and in my estimation he’s going to go after her.’

Metcalf flicked through the statements and notes.

‘The prostitute Janet Brown?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘She used the name “Angie”, among others, but he must now know she is a valuable witness if his wife told him she knew about her.’

Metcalf continued to read the reports as Moran waited impatiently.

‘This Susie Luna situation, you don’t have enough evidence. She was reported missing five years ago, and these accusations from an aggrieved wife are not enough. But if you want them protected, go ahead… and just keep your powder dry. I’ll leave you to handle it.’