Peter Lovesey: The Headhunters

‘But this is an appalling case, by the sound of it. All these drowned women, and the man still at liberty. I don’t know how it happened, but you seem to be up to your neck in it.’

Not the happiest choice of phrase. She was already up to her shins in it.

‘Don’t trust anyone,’ Mummy ranted on. ‘You’ve got that mobile phone with you? Well, obviously you have.’

‘I’ll use it if necessary.’

‘No, I’m telling you, Jo darling, that these fancy phones are a mixed blessing. You take a call from someone and you have no way of knowing where he is. He could be lying in wait round the next corner and you think he’s speaking from miles away.’

‘I’ll bear it in mind, Mummy. Must go. ’bye.’ She switched off.

Immediately, it rang again.

Give it a rest, Mother, she thought. ‘Yes?’

‘Jo?’ This time it really was the voice she hoped to hear.

‘Jake, I thought you were someone else. I’ve been trying to reach you. Did they let you go?’

‘For now.’

‘Thank God for that.’

‘They still don’t trust me.’

She sidestepped that. ‘When was this? Last night?’

‘I didn’t call you from home. They can listen in.’

She was about to point out that nothing he could say would incriminate either of them, and then thought better of it. Wouldn’t anyone feel paranoid after hours of questioning? ‘Are you at home?’

‘No, I came to work.’

‘What’s it like there after the rain?’

‘Not very different.’

God, she’d been aching to hear his voice and now they were talking banalities. ‘When can I see you, Jake? Tonight?’

A pause. ‘I’d like that. I’ll come to you.’

‘Some of the roads are impassable.’

‘Not on a bike. Did you get in to work?’

‘Yes, but we just closed the shop. I could do with your dinghy right now. I’m on a mercy mission, walking-well, wading-into Singleton to see if an old lady is all right. She’s Gemma’s aunt.’

‘Be careful.’

‘Would you mind calling Gem and telling her I’m checking on Aunt Jessica? Saves her coming out from Fishbourne.’

After the call she was so much happier that she burst into ‘Singin’ in the Rain.’

Out at Bosham, a crucial find was made. Leaving nothing to chance this time, Stella called the incident room while Hen was arranging for Rick’s car to be taken away.

‘Boss, the crime scene people are saying there’s a strong chance Sally was attacked here, in the shallow end of the pool. They picked up quite a clump of hair that was pulled out at the roots, and I’m certain it matches the colour of hers. There was also the tip of a broken fingernail.’

‘Was there? Two of her nails were damaged for sure. This could clinch it, Stell. If she was driven to Apuldram, we’re going to find traces in someone’s car. You can’t move a corpse without leaving something behind.’

‘You can clean up a car.’

‘That in itself would be suspicious. Besides, how many of our suspects have transport? Jake rides a bike. Dr Sentinel uses the train to get here. Cartwright’s car is already impounded.’

‘What about Francisco?’

‘He’s out of the reckoning.’

‘That leaves Rick.’

The logistics interested Hen more at this moment. ‘I’m thinking about how it was done. Actually, when it was done.’

‘Is that important?’

‘The contents of the fridge-the meat and fresh veg you told me about-suggest she was killed before she could prepare the lunch. I think she got out of bed Sunday morning, put on her swimsuit and bathrobe, and went downstairs to the pool for her morning swim. The killer was waiting there.’

‘Rick. The bastard. I know you don’t want to finger anyone at this point, but who else knew about her daily swim?’

Hen refused to be sidetracked. She was explaining the timing. ‘I couldn’t understand how you failed to notice the body when you searched the Apuldram pool on Monday morning.’

‘Me neither.’

‘I believe the body was moved there after you checked the pool.’

‘You’re saying he left her here overnight and then came back for her?’

‘Late Monday.’

The line went silent while Stella took this in. ‘That’s cool,’ she said finally. ‘And so cunning. I sound the all clear and he moves in with the corpse. It could have stayed under cover all winter if the two women hadn’t come snooping.’

‘And it shifted suspicion to Cartwright.’

‘This has got to be someone with inside knowledge, guv. Rick must have heard about the search. From his girlfriend Gemma, no doubt.’

At her end of the phone, Hen smiled. Stell had really got it in for Rick. ‘What was his motive, then?’

‘He’d tired of Sally. He was passionate about Gemma. He wanted to escape from the Sunday lunch routine.’

‘I’m not convinced, Stell. He didn’t need to kill her. He could have told her it was over and stopped going.’

‘Some people do anything to avoid a face-to-face row.’

‘Murder?’

‘Don’t forget there are two other victims. Murder is no big deal when you’ve done it before. He reckoned he had a foolproof method, drowning them.’

‘I’d be more impressed if we could link Rick to the other murders. I don’t know what connection he had to Meredith or Fiona.’

Stella continued to stoke the flames of her suspicion. ‘He’s been around from the beginning. Jo found Meredith’s body and who was it who happened to be dating Jo at the time? Rick. Then he started dating Gemma, who worked with Fiona. There is a link, you see.’

‘We can say much the same for Jake.’

‘Guv, Jake had nothing to do with Sally. She was Rick’s woman.’

Hen saw sense in that. ‘I’ll have another try with him.’

Jo had reached a point in the mercy mission where she felt rather foolish. If she went any further, the water would come over the tops of her wellies, so she was forced to take them off and carry them, wading barefoot with her skirt pulled up to her thighs. Even so, her mood was buoyant. She’d see Jake tonight and have a good laugh about this.

Not far ahead was the timber-framed flint cottage she knew to be Miss Peabody’s, and it was on higher ground than she remembered. Some water might have penetrated to the ground floor, but this wasn’t the emergency she’d pictured. She waded through the remaining surface water and up a definite incline to the front door. A sandbag was across it.

Rick had decided he didn’t need a solicitor. ‘When you find the inside of my car is clean, you’ll have to let me walk.’ he told Hen.

‘I’ll be frank with you,’ she told him. ‘I’m interested in other deaths as well as Sally’s.’

Alarm briefly visited Rick’s eyes. He passed both hands over his bleached hair, smoothing it. ‘Oh that,’ he said with a too-obvious effort to sound unflustered. ‘You’ve been talking to Jo and Gemma. I made that up, about killing Cartwright. It was a running joke that got out of hand when Jo took it seriously. No sense of humour, that woman.’

Killing Cartwright? This was a whole new angle on the case.

Up to now, Hen hadn’t got Rick down as a humorist. He appeared to want to talk, so she and Gary listened.

‘The beginning of it was that Gem couldn’t stand her boss, so we all got to thinking up weird ways of getting rid of him. Fun ways. I don’t think Jake joined in, but he’s got as much fun in him as a bowl of cold porridge. He was listening, though.’ Rick’s eyes widened as a thought struck him. ‘Was it bloody Jake who put you on to me? He’d take anything as gospel, that guy. Anyway, I made up this story about bashing Cartwright’s head in and disposing of the body at a papermill, turning it into pulp, so he’d be in the news. In the news. Joke, right?’