The man standing on the threshold of the dilapidated bungalow could have been any age from mid-fifties to late-sixties. He was bald and slight, with yellowing lined skin. He was also an alcoholic, or bordering on one, thought Marvik, smelling the booze on his breath and registering his bloodshot eyes behind small rimless spectacles. Stisford’s surprise at finding Helen accompanied swiftly gave way to suspicion. Clearly he was dubious that she was the same person he remembered from fifteen years ago. If Helen was startled at the change in Stisford, she didn’t show it.
‘It’s so good of you to see us, Mr Stisford,’ she said brightly, forcing him to step back to admit them. The narrow hallway smelled of eggs, tobacco and alcohol. The orange and brown patterned carpet was well worn and the geometric green and yellow wallpaper faded. The interior was as shabby as the exterior where Marvik had seen grubby net curtains covering the two small bay windows either side of a weather-beaten door. The small square of a front garden was weed-strewn and the iron gate rusted and creaking.
‘John, please,’ he said with an attempt at lightness but Marvik caught the edge of apprehension in his throaty high-pitched voice.
Stisford led them through the narrow passageway to a cluttered, dishevelled, musty lounge that faced on to a square of overgrown weeds that couldn’t by any stretch of imagination be called a garden. Marvik noted the cigarettes and an almost empty bottle of whisky on a small table beside one of the four armchairs. On the dusty brick mantelpiece were grimy photographs of a young man in army uniform, alone and with colleagues. They had to be of Stisford but there was very little left of the once fit and lean soldier from those pictures.
‘Would you like a tea, coffee? Or something stronger?’ Stisford asked.
They both refused. They’d agreed that in the taxi. Marvik wanted to get down to business and so too did Helen, and the clock was ticking fast. He could also see into the kitchen to their right and thought their decision a wise one given the filthy state of it.
Stisford waved them into seats and took the chair beside the whisky bottle. His glass was empty.
Helen perched on the edge of a threadbare armchair with shiny arms which were black from grime and sweat. She showed no signs of revulsion; in fact her expression betrayed nothing but keen interest and for that Marvik secretly admired her.
‘As I said on the phone I want to talk about the last time you saw my sister,’ she began as Marvik took the chair beside her.
Stisford looked solemn and sorrowful, only Marvik thought it was a little contrived.
Helen continued. ‘It was in the bar of the Union Services Club at Waterloo, wasn’t it?’
‘Yes. It was after the evening Remembrance Service. We were all feeling a little relieved and light headed. It’s a bit like after a funeral at the wake when everyone is happy for a while. I’m sorry if that sounds callous after what happened.’
‘What time was this?’ Marvik interjected, seeing Helen’s frown.
Stisford threw him a doubtful look before answering hesitantly. ‘The performance began at seven and ended just before nine p.m.… It was about half past nine or just after that when we arrived back at the club from the Albert Hall.’
‘You bought the ticket for her?’ Marvik again asked. Helen flashed him a hostile look which he interpreted as I thought I was supposed to be asking the questions.
‘You know the system?’ Stisford said, surprised.
Marvik did. ‘I’m ex services.’
‘Which branch?’ Stisford brightened up and thawed towards Marvik.
‘Marines.’
‘Commandos? You look like one’
‘Yes.’
Stisford nodded his approval. ‘I worked with you lot, well the Royal Marines Amphibious Task Group. I was Army, 17 Port and Maritime Regiment Royal Logistic Corp based at Marchwood, near Southampton. I’ve seen a lot of action in my time and learnt many things, some of which no man should. You seen action?’
‘Some.’
‘I was in the Falklands, that’s where your dad was killed,’ he said to Helen, who looked as though she was about to scream I bloody know that. Marvik quickly interceded.
‘So, as a member of the British Legion you bought a ticket for Esther who wasn’t a member.’
‘Her mum, Jean, was. Your mum,’ Stisford corrected. ‘But Esther didn’t join, had too much on her plate to think of that, but I knew she’d want to go in place of Jean. And although she could have got tickets for the afternoon performance because some are made available to the public, I didn’t see why she should, not when I organize a party every year and that year I offered a place to Esther and she grabbed it. I only wish now she hadn’t.’
Helen took over. ‘So how many of you were there that night?’
‘From our party, there was me, Gary Holman, Jack Harriman and Esther. We were the only ones staying over at the club. Gary and Jack were coming with me to the Cenotaph the next day.’
‘So why did Esther stay? She could easily have travelled home. It’s only just over an hour by train.’
‘She would have done but that’s down to me again.’ Stisford wriggled and pulled at his right ear. ‘I’d booked a twin-bedded room on the thirteenth floor for Esther and Irene Withers. Irene went every year to remember the death of her husband, Archie. He was a pilot, got shot down in the last days of the Second World War. Esther said she’d be quite happy to stay over and help Mrs Withers. She didn’t have good health and she was nearly eighty. Unfortunately Mrs Withers passed away two weeks before the Remembrance Service, all the other rooms were booked so Esther said she’d stay over alone.’
Why? wondered Marvik. Was it because the room had been paid for that she thought she might as well use it, or had there been another reason?
Helen said, ‘Who left the bar first?’
‘Esther did. She said she was tired and she looked it. It was a sad occasion. She remembered her dad. You were too young, Helen, to have known him. He was a fine man and a good friend. I remember—’
‘Why didn’t you see Esther to her room?’ Helen sharply interjected, abandoning the neutral air she’d originally adopted. Marvik now saw the disgust on her face. Maybe Stisford saw it too because he squirmed. Marvik didn’t blame her for letting her emotions show. She’d done well until now. It seemed that mention of her father goaded her more than thoughts and talk of her sister and her mother. And he knew why. She was resentful for never having known him because it made her feel excluded from an inner circle who sang his praises and talked of his experiences.
‘I wish to God I’d gone up in that lift with her,’ Stisford answered. ‘You don’t know how many times I’ve regretted it. But I stayed down with Gary and Jack, drinking and talking over old times. Esther must have found us boring although she was too polite and too kind to ever say that. I don’t know what time she left exactly, and I told the police that, but it must have been some time after ten o’clock because she only had one drink with us.’
‘Would the other two know?’ Helen asked eagerly.
‘They’re both dead.’
Helen looked annoyed.
‘Gary died four years ago, cancer, and Jack last year. Motor neurone disease, bloody awful way to go.’
So no suspicious deaths there, thought Marvik.
‘She said she wasn’t going to the Remembrance Service parade the next morning, so I didn’t think anything of her not showing at breakfast. I thought she might already have left or was having a lie in.’
Marvik said, ‘Apart from being tired, what was her mood like in the bar after the service?’
Stisford answered hesitantly. ‘OK.’
‘You don’t know!’ Helen picked up, her tone hostile.
He wriggled uncomfortably. ‘We were all talking and drinking. I didn’t really notice anything different. Esther was always quiet.’
‘She probably couldn’t get a word in edgeways with you all gabbing on about how many people you’ve killed.’
‘It wasn’t like that, Helen.’
‘No?’ she challenged, infuriated.
Marvik interjected. ‘How was she during the service?’
‘Reflective, proud, sad, the same as we all were.’
‘You had seats together?’
‘Yes.’
‘And she met you at the Union Services Club before the service?’
‘No, at the Albert Hall. I don’t know where she was before then or on Friday night. The police asked me but I couldn’t help them. I asked her if she wanted to travel up to London with me, Gary and Jack but she said she was working on Friday.’
‘Where?’ Marvik hadn’t asked Helen that.
‘I don’t know where exactly but she worked for Danavere Medical on the Solent Business Park.’
Marvik knew it. It was a large modern business park and housing estate just off the M27 between Portsmouth and Southampton and not far to the north from where Helen lived. He had no idea what Danavere did but the word ‘medical’ connected in his brain with both Charlotte and Ashley Palmer.
‘Esther said she’d make her own way to the Albert Hall on Saturday.’
‘Is that exactly what she said?’ asked Marvik.
Stisford looked puzzled and then his face screwed up in thought. Helen sniffed impatiently. After a moment he said, ‘I’m sorry, I don’t remember her exact words.’ He addressed Helen. ‘Didn’t she say anything to you?’
‘No.’
Stisford continued. ‘Maybe she just wanted time alone to remember your dad.’ His eyes flicked to Helen and then back to Marvik. ‘I came out three years after the Falklands War and decided to help those who had suffered as a result of it through my voluntary work with the Royal British Legion. I also did what I could for the widows and mothers who had lost loved ones during the conflict but it’s never enough.’
No, it wasn’t, reflected Marvik, recalling those he’d known who had been killed and the loved ones left behind. His thoughts shifted back to Terence Blackerman and he wondered how he was feeling, after learning that his only son had died as a result of wounds inflicted in action. A son he had hardly known and one he had sacrificed his freedom for as a result of that night in November seventeen years ago.
‘You did voluntary work, but what was your job after the army?’ Marvik asked.
‘I worked in the stores for Ford in Southampton,’ Stisford answered a little uneasily, probably, Marvik thought, because the job lacked prestige and perhaps the voluntary work gave Stisford back some kudos.
He said, ‘Did you see anyone leave the bar at the same time or just after her?’
‘I wasn’t really taking any notice. And I didn’t know the lift had broken down until the police told me.’
‘When did they tell you?’ Marvik jumped in before Helen could say anything.
Stisford was beginning to look frazzled and Marvik could see his right hand trembling, which was either the symptom of an illness, the sign of strain or the need of a drink. And Marvik thought it was the latter two.
‘Monday morning. I was at home at Marchwood. I didn’t even know Esther was dead. You didn’t tell me.’ He threw Helen a hurt and puzzled look.
‘It wasn’t top of my list of things to do,’ she said caustically. But Marvik hadn’t asked her how the police had broken the news to her, or when. Or what had happened next. He would, but later.
‘It came as a great shock.’
Marvik felt Helen’s body go rigid, with anger he thought at Stisford’s rather obsequious manner more than distress at the memory. He threw her what he hoped was an understanding and pleading look but she wasn’t looking at him. If he put a hand on her arm he knew she’d shake it off.
Quickly he said, ‘Can you remember what they said? I know this must be as difficult for you as it is for Helen, which is why I’m here to help her.’
She flashed him a furious look. He hoped his eyes said ‘ease back, it won’t be long, we need this information’. She obviously understood the message because she took a breath and forced a sad smile from her tight lips.
Stisford said, ‘I’m not sure how I can help but I do understand that sometimes piecing together traumatic events can make towards a better understanding of what happened and assist some people in coming to terms with it.’ He cast a sympathetic gaze on Helen. Marvik thought she might hit him, but again she smiled tightly and he saw her fists clench as they rested on her knees.
‘I tried to do that with Jean to help her come to terms with Jim’s death. We talked for ages about it and the past. I like to think it helped in some way. It certainly helped Esther but you, Helen, were too young of course.’
‘What did the police tell you?’ Marvik persisted. Stisford had avoided the question, but whether deliberately Marvik didn’t know.
‘That Esther had been found dead in the room and they were treating it as suspicious. They asked me more or less what you have and I couldn’t help them.’
‘Can you remember their names?’
‘Yes. It was a DI Grainger and a DS Ross from the Metropolitan Police.’
‘Did they return to question you?’
‘No. I made a statement and that was it.’
‘They didn’t ask you if you knew Terence Blackerman?’
‘No.’
‘Did you?’
‘No.’
A lie or the truth?
‘I attended the trial. I found it hard to believe a navy chaplain could have committed murder and did wonder if he’d been suffering post-traumatic stress, but the medical people said he hadn’t. Still, not everyone recognizes it and it can show up in different ways. Oh, I’m not excusing what he did,’ he added hastily. ‘But—’
‘Did you see him in the bar that night?’
‘No. But then it was very busy. He could have been there. He might have followed Esther into the lift.’
But he couldn’t have known it would break down or that Esther would invite him to her bed, unless they had already known one another and were having an affair, which would explain why Esther had got in the lift in the first place. Perhaps that was the reason Esther had gone to London the day before and stayed over on Saturday night, and when Irene Withers had conveniently died they thought they’d make use of the double room, albeit with twin beds.
‘Is he still in prison?’ Stisford asked.
Helen answered. ‘Yes.’
‘I’m sorry, Helen. There’s nothing I can tell you that can help. You must try to get on with your life. Esther wouldn’t want you dwelling on it and going over it all again.’
Marvik thought it best to leave before Helen exploded. He rose and thanked Stisford by extending his hand. Stisford’s grasp was firm but his palm moist. Hastily they extracted themselves from the dreary, dirty bungalow. Marvik gripped Helen firmly by the elbow and steered her down the road and around the corner before she could say anything. Only when they were out of sight he eased his grip and she shook him off.
‘What a creep. I didn’t like him in 1997 and I like him even less now. He stinks.’
‘Of booze and sweat,’ Marvik said.
‘You know what I mean,’ she flashed at him.
He did.
‘I bet he was trying to get into Esther’s knickers, she rejected him and he killed her. He was a soldier, trained to kill.’
‘Then why weren’t his DNA and fingerprints in that room?’
‘Maybe he cleaned it up before leaving her.’
They began walking through the estate towards the main road.
‘He wouldn’t have been able to eliminate all trace of his DNA.’
‘Then the police covered it up.’
‘But why would they protect John Stisford? You saw him and that bungalow. He’s not important enough.’
She scowled. ‘Maybe he knows something about one of them and threatened to expose it.’
‘If he did it’s not made him rich.’
‘He could have spent it all on booze and gambling.’
‘Then he’d have gone back for more.’
‘Not if the cop who covered up for him is dead. Grainger.’
‘His death is too recent for Stisford to be living like that. Even if he had managed to squeeze more money out of Grainger, or Duncan Ross for that matter, Stisford couldn’t have spent it that fast.’
‘No? Just give me a few grand and I’ll show you how quickly it can be spent.’
‘It’s not him, Helen.’
After a moment she said, dejectedly, ‘I know.’
‘But he’s not telling us everything.’ And Marvik would like to know what it was and why he felt the need to hold back.
‘Do you think he knows Blackerman?’
It was what Marvik had been considering. ‘It’s possible. But I can’t see Blackerman protecting Stisford, certainly not going to prison for him, and as I’ve already said Stisford’s not Esther’s killer. Do you remember seeing Stisford at the trial?’
‘Yes, but I didn’t sit with him. I couldn’t bear him near me, not even then. He made my flesh crawl, still does.’
They turned on to the main road and began walking in the direction of the marina. It was at least three miles but Marvik made no attempt to volunteer to call a taxi and Helen didn’t ask him to. It was as though they needed the fresh, cold March air to blow away the stench of that bungalow and to rid themselves of Stisford’s sycophantic manner.
‘When did the police break the news to you, Helen?’
‘Sunday morning. It was just after eleven. I was in bed. I’d been at a nightclub until two, drinking and mucking about – yeah I know I was under age but no one bothered to ask me for my birth certificate and I took advantage of Esther being away. I had a hangover and I ignored the bell for as long as I could, hoping that whoever it was would go away but they didn’t. Then I looked out of the window and saw the police car and I thought, shit, they’ve come after me because I lied about my age and got drunk. It put the fear of God in me. I staggered down and looked into this police woman’s eyes and my … well I threw up all over her before she even told me. The rest is a blur.’
He reached a hand and took hers. She didn’t recoil but gripped it firmly. They didn’t speak for some moments but continued walking.
‘The next thing I remember was being told by this fat copper, who was DI Grainger, that Esther had been murdered. He asked me if she had a boyfriend. I said no. They wanted to look around her room. They’d already done so once but they did it again. They went through her books, looking for letters I guess. She didn’t have a mobile phone or computer – yeah, hard to believe now. She must have used a computer at work though. I guess they looked at that.’
And Marvik wondered what that had revealed. Probably not much given that the Internet and email were not as freely used then as now.
‘They asked me about a diary, just as you did, but I said Esther didn’t keep one or if she did then I hadn’t found it. They also asked me what train she caught to London on Friday. I had no idea, only that she was going from work.’ She withdrew her hand and pushed it through her hair.
‘Do you know what she did at Danavere?’
‘Secretary I think, something like that. I can’t remember and I didn’t bother to ask her about it. Like I told you I was a self-obsessed teenager with a bloody great chip on my shoulder.’
Marvik stopped outside a café. ‘Fancy a drink?’
She nodded. When they were seated with teas in front of them, she said, ‘I remember at the trial they said she left work at four. But no one knew where she went after that. I guess the police might have checked the hotels in London but that’s a hell of a lot of hotels to check and nothing was mentioned about any money coming off her account. Now, come to think of it, there were no payments made out either that night or Saturday but then the room in the Union Services Club had been paid for earlier. So Esther must have stayed with someone Friday night.’
‘Yes and he or she never came forward.’
‘Do you think it’s her killer?’ she said eagerly.
‘It’s possible.’
‘How the hell do we find out who that was? Unless it’s Blackerman. Maybe Esther did know him and spent both Friday and Saturday night with him. She wanted to end the relationship and he flipped.’
‘She might have known him but he didn’t kill her. And if she had known him, why didn’t he say?’
‘Because it would make matters worse for him.’
‘But that doesn’t explain why someone is intent on preventing us from looking into it. And how would Esther have known him? He was navy and your father was army. I suppose he could have met your father in conflict or on a joint exercise.’ Marvik thought he’d get Strathen on to that unless Crowder cared to give him that information, if he knew it.
Helen shrugged and sipped her tea. Marvik said, ‘Apart from her job, how else did she spend her time?’
‘Looking out for me. She didn’t go out or have any hobbies or interests.’
‘Did the police ask you this?’
‘I don’t remember. They must have done.’
Marvik stared out of the window, scrutinizing the busy road. ‘Did Esther go to church?’ He wondered if she’d met Blackerman there.
‘Sometimes. Christmas, Easter, the anniversary of dad’s death and then mum’s.’
‘Where?’
‘Not locally,’ she answered, eyeing him sharply. ‘She liked the big services at the cathedrals, that’s what appealed to her about the Remembrance Service at the Albert Hall.’
Perhaps she’d met Blackerman at one of these.
‘This doesn’t seem to have got us very far,’ Helen said dejectedly. But Marvik thought it had got them another step forward.
‘Finish your tea. I’m going to make a call.’ He indicated the public pay phone opposite, from where he called Strathen. ‘Esther Shannon worked for a company called Danavere Medical,’ he said as soon as Strathen came on the line.
‘Danavere!’
‘Yes, why? Do you know it?’
‘I should, they make prosthetic limbs.’
Marvik could almost hear Strathen’s brain making the same connection as he’d done earlier when Stisford had mentioned it, a medical connection between Esther, Palmer and Charlotte. ‘We need to know what Esther did at Danavere and whether she was working for them on Friday the seventh of November 1997. If so, where, doing what?’
‘I’ve got contacts there. I’ll get on to it right away.’
‘Also see what you can dig up on John Stisford, especially his service record.’
Next Marvik rang Crowder on the pay-as-you-go mobile phone.
‘Any news on a safe house for Helen?’
‘Not yet.’
‘Well hurry it up. I need information on Blackerman’s defence lawyer, Vince Wycombe. Can you get it for me?’
Crowder said he could and rang off. He didn’t ask where Marvik was or what he was doing and Marvik didn’t volunteer the information because Crowder knew anyway.
‘What now?’ Helen asked on his return.
Marvik had been considering that. ‘We talk to Grainger’s sister tomorrow morning. In Bognor Regis.’
‘We going there by boat?’
‘Of course.’
‘Thought you might say that. In the dark again?’
‘No other way to travel.’
She rolled her eyes at him.
‘And the sooner we start the better.’ The nearest marina to Bognor Regis was Chichester. From there it was a twenty-minute drive across the flat arable countryside. He’d call for a taxi to take them. Chichester Marina was sixty-four nautical miles to the east of where they now were. He didn’t tell Helen that the weather forecast for the next twelve hours wasn’t good. It would take them about four hours. He hoped they could make it before the front closed in.