The butterfly wheel, p.20
THE BUTTERFLY WHEEL, page 20
‘Loads of them knew about the game. I couldn’t get them concessionaries but they could have bought full-price tickets.’
‘Agile, strong, intelligent, possibly knows Jake or Everly well . . .’ Maddie scribbled away on the glass, snapped the pen’s top back on and dropped it into the tray beneath the screen. ‘Good. We’ll move on.’
For the next hour, Maddie covered every conceivable angle. She went through the key points from the official investigations into the murders of Helen Fletcher and Maria Garfield and added notes on the screen against potential suspects. Their suspects as opposed to who Saunders thought might be the culprit – that was only Jake as far as Maddie knew. Throughout this time, Everly continually looked up from her notes to observe Jake’s body language. He had a permanent malaise about him. Maddie raised the issue of Jake’s hospital stay and asked him to recount anything that might have a bearing on the murders. Jake spoke about the perfume he’d smelled on a hospital visitor.
‘Whoever was wearing it must have known me. I thought it was you at the time, Ev. But you never wear perfume like that.’
‘And I can tell you why,’ Maddie chipped in. ‘It’s called Caron’s Poivre. It’s rare and extremely expensive. You’re looking at two to three thousand pounds for a small bottle.’
Jake blew a silent whistle. ‘How did you find out?’ he asked.
‘We took the card from the crushed-butterflies message to a perfumier in Cheltenham.’
‘Crushed butterflies? What are you on about?’
‘Sorry, Ev. I meant to tell you. It just slipped my mind.’
Maddie was quick to intervene. ‘I’ll bring you up to date later, Everly.’
‘This is important,’ Jake said, showing more enthusiasm for the subject than he did for dead bodies. ‘That floral smell is etched in my memory. It has to be a woman.’
Maddie was shaking her head and smiling. ‘Not necessarily. The perfumier spent a whole afternoon on the phone to her contacts. Caron’s Poivre is an old perfume, introduced in 1950. It wasn’t only used by women at that time, it was more often used as a man’s aftershave. And, by the way, you must have an incredible sense of smell. I could hardly detect any perfume on the envelope myself.’
‘So, where does this leave us?’ Jake asked.
Maddie gave Everly a quizzical look. ‘Any ideas?’
‘I know what you’re thinking, Maddie. And I have to disappoint you. I didn’t smell any perfume at the time of my assault. All I could smell was my own vomit.’
‘That’s fair enough. We’ll park this one for the moment but, as Jake says, it could be important and we mustn’t forget it. Talking of important, there’s another line of investigation that we need to look at. Has Jake told you about the stalker, Everly?’
‘Stalker? Jake, you didn’t—’
‘Something I didn’t want to bother you with, Ev. It’s been going on since I came out of hospital but . . .’
‘But Maddie’s right, Jake. It could be really important. You need to let us know every detail. There could be clues to Mannequin’s identity.’
‘The police dismissed it,’ Jake said, staring angrily at Maddie.
‘We haven’t dismissed it, Jake. We’re looking at traffic camera recordings from the night of Helen’s murder. Saunders may not be too interested in the stalker’s earlier contact, but I am.’
‘You’re losing me, guys, but I’ll go through it all with Jake later, if that’s OK, Maddie?’
She knows I’ll brief her on the outcome before our next meeting.
‘Sounds good.’
This had been a searching review by Maddie and she’d answered Maddie’s questions as well as she could, told her everything she could remember. But her intuition told her that Jake hadn’t done the same.
‘Are you two all right?’ Maddie asked, clearly recognising the impasse.
‘I’m all right,’ Jake said. ‘Let’s just press on, shall we?’
He’s not all right. He’s had enough. ‘I think we should call it a day, Maddie.’
Everly shut the front door behind Maddie and she and Jake returned to the spare bedroom. Smells of stale sweat and bitter coffee filled the room and it was a few degrees warmer than the rest of the apartment. She opened the windows.
‘What do you reckon then, Ev?’
Jake often used expressions like that. He was saying Look at me. Aren’t I good?
‘It was a good start but there’s a long way to go. And you’re going to have to brief me before these meetings. There could be more to that message than the smell of perfume, for example.’
‘Like what?’
‘Like the symbolism of butterflies. That could say a lot about the killer. And I’m disappointed you didn’t tell me you were being stalked. You’re going to have to tell me everything from now on. Anyway, how did you find it, today?’
‘Better than my experience down the station. Maddie’s a lot sharper when she’s not playing Saunders’ dogsbody, but . . .’
‘But what, Jake? You’re holding back.’
‘I don’t know. It feels as if I’m being left out by you and Maddie. You’re both good at working people out and I’m not sure either of you trust my character judgement. Am I part of this team?’
That’s not it. He’s creating a smokescreen.
‘Of course you are. You have valuable information locked away in that head of yours. And when it comes to deciding what to do, you’ll be the first to be consulted.’
Jake was looking down at the makeshift coffee table. ‘I don’t trust Maddie,’ he said. ‘Her relationship with Saunders, pretending she has this lack of respect for him, blatantly lying about my movements in front of him. I don’t like him hounding me, but Saunders comes over as a competent police officer as far as I’m concerned.’ He looked up. ‘Then, what do I know?’
You’d be surprised how much you knew if you discussed it with me.
‘What were the blatant lies?’
‘She supported an alibi that wasn’t quite true to get me off the hook. And now she’s pretending to be on my side.’
God, what have they been getting up to while I was in hospital?
‘What you’re saying is that Maddie’s parallel investigation is all a convoluted trick to get a confession out of you. Am I right?’
‘I’m not saying that. I was next to Maddie the night Mannequin murdered Jasmine Slater, remember? And, as you’ve just heard, she’s convinced by the video evidence from Constable’s. Surely all that’s enough to put me in the clear?’
‘Not necessarily. You could be controlling Mannequin.’
‘What? You’re being ridiculous now. You’re—’
‘Exactly. So, what is it about Maddie that’s making you suspicious?’
He waved his arms about and shook his head. ‘Oh, I don’t know.’
She’d won this game of chess but there was still something on his mind. And something on her mind too – nothing to do with Mannequin.
‘I’ll make some more coffee, shall I?’
‘Tea would be nice.’
She stood up, bent down and kissed his cheek. ‘Tea it is, then.’
Five minutes later, they were in the lounge and she was pouring tea from a silver pot into her best china cups. Jake was looking more relaxed.
‘You at work tomorrow?’ he asked. ‘You’re not intending to play homicide detective every day, are you?’
It was a cheap swipe but she wasn’t going to react.
‘I’m working, but not in the office. I have a business meeting in Worcester.’ She gave her tea an extra stir so she didn’t have to meet his eyes.
‘I see. And I guess because it’s official business, you can’t talk about it?’
‘You’ve guessed right. How about you? Anything interesting happening at Butterleigh?’
‘There is, actually. They’re planning an appraisal weekend for staff they think have management potential. It’s nicknamed the Dirty Dozen because the senior management always select twelve delegates. And, guess what, I’ve been offered a place. What do you reckon about that?’
‘What form does this weekend take?’
‘I thought you’d show a bit more enthusiasm, Ev. Is there a problem?’
‘I don’t know yet. Tell me what you do on this Dirty Dozen weekend.’
‘It’s a well-kept secret. But the rumour is, they take you to a remote location, isolate you from the rest of society and set you tasks in groups. It’s all about seeing how you react under pressure, whether you’re a team player, a leader, that sort of thing. Have you ever seen The Apprentice?’
‘I know what it’s about.’
‘Well, it’s a bit like that, I imagine.’
‘You mean you’re going to have no contact with the outside world for a whole weekend? And no one outside the course supervisors knows what’s going on? I take it there are supervisors running this event?’
‘It’s usually our section managers, Lesley and Frank, and a couple of others. I’ve heard our MD, Peter Rushton, might be getting involved this time.’
‘I’m concerned about the isolation. What happens if there’s a medical emergency, for example?’
‘I’m sure that’s all catered for. You’re worried about me going under the circumstances, aren’t you?’ he said, jabbing his thumb in the direction of the incident room.
‘I just think now is not a good time to be away on something like this.’
‘Well, I’m going and that’s it. Like your own meeting in Worcester, it’s business.’
He was perspiring and had to be seething underneath that so-there, yah-boo look. Maybe it was a response to her announcing her Worcester trip, maybe he just wanted a weekend away and was blinkered to the risks?
There’s still something he’s not telling me.
CHAPTER 29
Everly was obviously used to hard work, yet he’d been unhappy about her getting straight back into the fray at GCHQ. And now this. Taking on the challenge of identifying her attacker. It was too soon. She needed to rest and leave the detective work to the professionals but, instead, she’d become involved with Maddie Toft. And while they adopted this superior attitude of theirs, he was damned if he was going to tell them his own theory about Mannequin. Lizzie Frampton had to be responsible for these heinous crimes.
Then there was this business about Robin James. She’d lied to him and it was out of character. But she said she loved me, didn’t she? Has she lied about that too? Jake thrashed his wheelchair backwards and forwards across his living room floor. His arms were aching but not as much as his heart. Bloody Robin James, he must mean the world to her. He rewound the angry tape that was playing in his head and pushed even harder at the wheels.
He’d known Everly for almost a year and not once had he doubted her sincerity. Until now. Was it because Robin James could give her the sexual satisfaction that he was incapable of? What if Robin James had something to do with these murders? What if he’d arranged Everly’s attack in retribution for her involvement with him?
Only one way to find out.
Jake had parked out of sight, on the far side of the green, and waited all morning for Everly to appear. He’d become worn and agitated, torturing himself with the thought of her meetings with Robin James. How long had this been going on? Were they laughing at him behind his back? At one point, he’d been on the verge of going across to her front door and having it out with her on the spot. But, after weighing it up, he’d decided to stick to the plan. Eventually she’d emerged at one o’clock and he’d followed her to an upmarket residential area, north of Worcester city centre.
He watched Everly enter the detached house in Beech Avenue, switched off the car’s engine and took a drink from the bottle of water he’d stuffed in the door’s storage compartment earlier that morning. This was going to be the longest day of his life. Where would it leave him at the end of it?
On his phone, he pulled down a UK address-finder app which he’d designed himself based on authorised government records. It was used by Butterleigh to check that anyone insuring a car or claiming on Butterleigh’s insurance lived where they said they lived and were who they claimed to be. Since the tightening of the Data Protection Act, it was no longer possible for any Tom, Dick or Harry to have access to such data, but Jake had loaded an illegal copy of his own software to his PC at home. He typed in the street name and entered the name Robin James. Within seconds, the house number and postcode appeared at the top of the screen with the message: name confirmed.
Got him!
He leaned back onto the headrest and closed his eyes.
Jake woke with a start and gave an audible sigh of relief when he saw Everly’s car on the drive. A minute later, two people appeared at the door. He’d been lucky.
It was lighting-up time. The house was located halfway between two street lights and, as the lamp above the entrance hadn’t been switched on, he was finding it hard to make out the figures standing in the doorway. It had to be Everly. And the figure just inside the house was a foot taller with a mop of hair hanging over broad shoulders. They were chatting. Everly tilted her head back and laughed. She’d been in there over three hours. What did they still have to talk about after all that time?
Everly gave her host a quick hug and set off towards her car. She was only a few feet from the door when Robin James must have said something that made her turn back. She shook her head and laughed once more. The figure in the doorway held out open arms for her. Everly stretched up on one leg and with her arms wrapped around his neck, kissed him on the lips. Nothing lingering about it. But an affectionate exchange, nevertheless.
Lovers?
After another minute of chatting, Everly finally got into her car, rolled the window down and waved. Robin James didn’t return her wave. He just watched her drive off until she was out of sight then shut the door.
Jake started the engine.
Jake tapped three times and waited. Everly would know it was him. It had taken all his resolve to resist rapping his walking stick against the front door like a base drummer until she came to see what the commotion was about. But knowing Everly, she’d have probably called Maddie and asked for police assistance, and that would have created havoc. He had to keep his cool. Give her a chance to explain herself. There had to be a good reason behind what he’d seen back there in Worcester. The door opened and Everly peeked through the gap before removing the safety chain.
‘Oh, hello, Jake. I thought it must be you. You’d better come in.’
She was calm, composed. Little Miss Innocent. A few feet into the hallway, he could hold back no longer.
‘You were with Robin James today. I saw you kissing him on his doorstep.’
Her face blanched. ‘How dare you? You had no right to follow me.’
‘You told me you were going to a business meeting.’
‘I could have been. And it would have been strictly confidential. You would have been spying on a government official.’
‘Bullshit. I was finding out who my girlfriend was seeing behind my back. You know, the one who’s supposed to be devoted to me?
‘So, now what are you going to do, my loyal and faithful partner?’
‘I want to know what’s been going on between you and Robin James.’
Everly turned her head away. After a few pensive moments, she turned back to face him with moist eyes.
‘OK, if that’s what you want. I’ll take you to meet him.’
‘But—’
‘It’s getting late but I’m sure he’ll still be awake.’
‘How do you know—’
‘I’ll just make a call.’
The parking spot had been carefully chosen on this moonlit night. In the long shadow of a tree, a hundred metres from the entrance, there would be no reason for either of them to give more than a passing glance in this direction. Presumably Jake would leave before midnight to get ready for work in the morning. If he didn’t, there was a long night in store.
The door opened. It was them. Unbelievable luck.
Jake nudged his wheelchair off the doorstep. She shut the front door behind them, checked it was locked and wheeled him off down the road. It looked as if they were heading towards the same car. They were. She got into the driver’s side of the white hatchback. Moments later, he was in the passenger seat with his wheelchair inside the car. He shut the door and the car moved off. Perfect.
By the time they reached the Promenade in Cheltenham’s town centre, the shoppers had left but the evening’s revellers were taking to the streets and the roads were still busy. It would be a stop-start journey from here and would require skill to stay one or two cars behind without losing them. But she’d driven cautiously so far, sticking to the speed limit and accelerating smoothly away from junctions. She’d be easy to keep up with.
She was three cars ahead when they stopped at the next set of lights. If she turned left, they could be going to the Everyman Theatre. Or maybe there was something on at the town hall tonight? The lights changed; the line of cars filed forward.
Past Montpellier Gardens and the Imperial Hotel, a hundred metres further on, the trendy bars clustered back from the main road were already filling up. But they weren’t going to stop here. They left the town centre and, ten minutes later, with the GCHQ doughnut half a mile behind them, they were on the Golden Valley bypass, heading towards Gloucester. She was taking him home by the look of it.
On the M5 roundabout, they stopped at a red traffic light with a motorbike separating them. In the bike’s headlight, she turned towards Jake and said something. Jake responded. Difficult to make out from this far back, but their brief conversation looked acrimonious. She turned to face the front. Jake’s head flopped back against the rest. Next, they would go straight down the A40 to the Elmbridge Court roundabout and from there it would be a fifteen-minute drive to Jake’s house in Upton.
The lights changed to green. She set off once more, ignoring the first turn and staying on the roundabout while the motorbike peeled off left and re-joined the bypass. Only a few metres in front now. She signalled left and took the slip road onto the motorway.
