‘You’re back,’ said Pellacia, as Henley entered his office. ‘How did it go with Chance Blaine?’
‘He’s smug, nervous and hiding something,’ answered Henley.
‘And Olivier?’
‘How do you think it went? He was as much use as a chocolate teapot. Too busy playing his stupid games. Today’s gem was that it’s a miscarriage of justice that he’s sitting in Belmarsh doing life.’
‘That old chestnut.’
‘He took it out on Ramouter. He handled it… well enough.’ She felt the need to protect Ramouter.
‘So, we’re back to square one. Where’s Ramouter now?’
‘At his desk. Working.’
‘And what about you?’
‘What about me?’
‘You haven’t seen Olivier for years and now you’ve seen him twice in a couple of days.’
Henley’s tremors had subsided, but her headache was still there, silently throbbing.
‘I’m not going to lie and say that it was fun and games sitting with him,’ said Henley.
‘That doesn’t answer my question. How are you?’
‘I’m not about to break down in the corner, if that’s what you’re asking.’
‘You’re something else, you really are. Did he give you anything that could help?’
‘Nope. Denied that he had spoken to anyone. Denied that he had killed anyone, but he did ask Ramouter if someone had cut his tongue out.’
‘His tongue? Do you think that—’
Henley shook her head. ‘He wouldn’t have mentioned it if he knew about the tongue, eyes and ears being taken. Olivier is too smart to give us any reason to suspect his involvement.’
The report from Sentinel, the company who provided the electronic tagging system and prison officers, pretty much confirmed what Ezra had said. Kennedy had kept to his curfew until 6 September at 11.47 p.m. when the signal had gone dead in Ladywell Fields.
On the whiteboard were photographs of Daniel Kennedy and Zoe Darego.
‘They’re not a bad-looking couple really,’ said Ramouter as he sat down.
‘Are those the itemised bills for both of Kennedy’s phones?’ asked Henley. She pushed the reports to the side and opened up a brown envelope. She pulled out three DVDs. They all contained CCTV footage. One from the bail hostel and the remaining two courtesy of Lewisham Council. She put the DVD from the bail hostel into the disk drive first.
‘Yeah, they are. The mobile provider confirmed that Zoe’s phone is a contract. They promised to get her records to me by the end of the day and, before you ask, I spoke to Ezra. He’s a bit limited with what he can do until he gets her phone, but he might have better luck with her laptop.’
The laptop had been found in Zoe’s bedroom by her grandmother. It had a password, but that was child’s play for Ezra.
‘What was her number again?’ Ramouter asked, reaching for a yellow highlighter.
‘The last four digits are 7432.’ Henley pressed play. ‘Start from the last entry and work backwards.’
Henley enlarged the video so that it filled the screen. The cameras outside the hostel hadn’t been working for six months so the only footage they had was taken from the hostel’s reception area. Henley fast-forwarded to the morning that Kennedy broke his curfew.
‘Her number doesn’t appear on his pay-as-you-go phone,’ Ramouter mumbled, as he reviewed the call records.
‘There he is,’ Henley said. She paused the footage and scribbled down the time on her notepad. Kennedy came into view at 11.43 a.m. He stopped in the hallway and spent two minutes and eighteen seconds talking to another man. He was wearing a Superdry T-shirt and jeans. At 11.46 a.m., he pulled out his phone from his back pocket and looked at the screen. Henley zoomed in. It wasn’t the silver iPhone that Henley had found under his bed.
‘Aye. I’ve found her,’ Ramouter said. He was highlighting the pages vigorously. ‘It’s his second phone number.’ There was no mistaking the excitement on his face. ‘Kennedy’s body was found on Monday morning, right?’
Henley hit pause on the video. ‘Linh says that he’d probably been dead for about forty-eight hours before he was found. So, we’re talking early hours of Saturday morning or late Friday night when he was killed,’ said Henley.
‘Zoe calls his phone at 10.46 p.m. on Friday, twice. He doesn’t pick up. Remember his curfew starts at 9 p.m. so he should be at the hostel. She calls a third time. At 10.47 p.m. This time he does pick up and they talk for forty-five seconds. At 10.57 p.m. she calls him again and they speak for eighteen seconds.’
‘Hold on,’ said Henley. She fast-forwarded the footage. Kennedy re-entered the hostel at 8.02 p.m. ‘There, he’s leaving.’ Henley paused the video at 11.02 p.m. He was wearing a bomber jacket and walked quickly out of the hostel.
‘That’s the last call that she makes. He doesn’t call her back, but he does text her. 11.07 p.m. I’m coming. Stay where you are. I’m getting a cab. She replies back, OK. 11.19 p.m. She texts him again. How long are you going to be? He replies, About 15 mins. I’m coming, babe. He then texts her again at 11.19 p.m. Wait for me in the hospital. I’m coming x. There are no other calls or texts from her or to her after that. Ezra’s right. The phone is still active until Tuesday, but they all go to voicemail. Couple of 0345 and 0800 numbers; 0161 – that’s Manchester. Could be call centres.’
‘Zoe calls him because she’s in some kind of trouble. Something has scared her enough to make him break his bail conditions.’
‘But you found his tag under his bed?’
Henley speeded up the footage and waited. The clock in the corner of the screen went past midnight and then 1 a.m., 2 a.m., 3 a.m. The doors to the hostel opened again at 3.06 a.m. ‘That’s not him,’ said Henley, pausing on the image of a man wearing a bomber jacket and T-shirt.
‘What do you mean? It’s the same clothing that he was wearing when he left.’
Henley tutted and shook her head. ‘Do you see the green emergency sign on the wall? On the earlier footage, when we first see Kennedy, his head reaches the top of the sign. When he was last arrested the custody record stated that he was six foot three. This guy—’
‘He’s at least three inches shorter.’
‘Exactly. He keeps his head down and he’s wearing a baseball cap. Kennedy wasn’t wearing a hat when he left.’ She stood up and walked over to the window. The sky had darkened, and rain struck the dirty window. A distant rumble of thunder, the first sign that the heatwave was beginning to break.
‘But why bother? Why would this person go through the hassle of putting Kennedy’s tag back in his room? Why not chuck it in a bin somewhere?’ asked Ramouter.
The sky flashed. Henley jumped. ‘I’m going down the road to see Linh. Chase up Forensics and see if we’re any closer to getting Churchyard identified.’
‘This guy…’ Ramouter tapped the screen with his pen. The image of a man wearing a baseball cap, frozen on the screen. ‘Do you think—’
‘Go back over the CCTV. See if anything picks him up leaving the bail hostel. This could be our killer.’ Henley paused, looking again at the frozen image. ‘How tall would you say Chance Blaine is?’
‘Not that much taller than me. About six feet, maybe five eleven.’
‘We need to find out where Blaine was on Friday night. Has he emailed us his diary yet?’
‘No, nothing yet.’
‘Chase him up. Tell him that he’s got two options. Send us his information or we’ll arrest him at his next viewing.’