It was gone five, later than expected, when they arrived back at the MIR. Bright and Naylor were both there waiting for news, ready to swing into action with a full murder investigation team and the promise of more resources if required. The atmosphere in the room was one of real hope and expectation: Carmichael, Brown, Robson, Maxwell, all keen to do their bit.
‘No Jo Soulsby?’ Daniels said, looking round.
‘Ladies’ room.’ Carmichael’s eyes looked past her. ‘Oh, speak of the devil.’
Daniels turned round.
Watching her former lover walk into her place of work had always been a little awkward, more so in the past few months because both Gormley and Bright had knowledge of their relationship. Even though they were now just colleagues, Daniels felt her temperature rise. She waited for Jo to take a seat, then turned her attention to the task in hand, the hastily arranged briefing.
Cole had cooperated fully, providing vital background information on Jimmy Makepeace, his ex-army pal. Makepeace was a first-class pilot with special operations training who’d taught survival techniques in the military. Daniels was at pains to point out that he also fitted the profile Jo had given them: organized, methodical, a risk-taker . . .
‘. . . a good man, but highly volatile. Not switched right, according to Cole.’
‘Then that makes him very dangerous,’ Jo said.
Robson said, ‘I guess that means we’re ruling out Cole.’
‘We’re ruling out no one,’ Daniels corrected him, although she didn’t really believe Cole had any direct connection to the murder case. ‘But Jimmy Makepeace has history with Finch and that gives him clear motive. The thing is . . .’ she hesitated, her eyes finding Jo, ‘. . . it’s been several years since he lost his daughter to meningitis. I’d have thought that was too long, if we’re talking revenge here.’
‘I’d have thought so too,’ Jo said. ‘But it’s not entirely beyond the bounds of possibility. The criminal mind isn’t that easy to predict.’
‘It wasn’t too long for Forster,’ Gormley reminded them. ‘Twisted bastard waited twenty years to exact his revenge.’
Daniels felt an ache in her shoulder. She yearned for the day she could rid herself of the connection with the notorious serial killer. But that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon. Jonathan Forster’s name and hers were inextricably linked now, whether she liked it or not. Everyone she met, in and out of the job, wanted her to tell them what he was really like.
Scum, that’s what.
‘Forster had no choice but to wait that long,’ Jo said. ‘He was incarcerated, don’t forget. He passed away his years inside planning his revenge on his mother.’
Naylor was looking directly at Jo now, putting her right on the spot. ‘Is it possible that a traumatic event so far in the past could trigger violence in the here and now?’
‘Yes, but there has to be a flashpoint, something catastrophic that would send a sane person over the top.’
‘Like what?’
As Jo began to explain, Daniels glanced at Bright. In the past he’d not seen eye to eye with Jo, despite her reputation as an exceptionally talented criminal profiler. His attitude to her job was belittling and Daniels was pleased to see that Naylor was including Jo in his plans as a full and valued member of the team.
It boded well for the future.
Carmichael raised her hand, apologizing for interrupting Jo mid-flow. ‘Makepeace lost his daughter – that sounds pretty catastrophic to me.’
‘Yes, but that was years ago.’
‘No it wasn’t! It was just last month.’
The room descended into silence.
‘What do you mean, last month?’ Daniels said. ‘Sally Makepeace died in ’95!’
‘Different daughter,’ Carmichael said. ‘I spoke to neighbours at his last known address. Soon after they lost Sally, Makepeace split from his first wife, Susan. I’m still trying to trace her. The woman I spoke to said Susan stayed for a while but he left without saying goodbye to anyone. No one had an inkling he’d gone until months afterwards, not even his closest friends and neighbours. Then she ups and leaves the very same way, there one minute, gone the next . . .’
Daniels opened her mouth to speak, but Carmichael was on a roll.
‘Since Makepeace wasn’t high-ranking ex-army like Finch, I figured he wouldn’t be particularly well off. In order to live he’d need money: social security if he was unemployed, a national insurance number if he wasn’t. Anyway, I tracked him down to an address in Sunderland and found out he remarried three years ago and had a child, Hattie. Sadly, she also died.’
‘Died how?’ Naylor asked.
‘Also of meningitis, believe it or not.’
‘There’s your trauma trigger,’ Jo said.
‘Brilliant work, Lisa!’
The comment had come from Bright. He’d always had a soft spot for Carmichael and had taken a personal interest in her career. She was dependable and industrious and he’d make it his business to see that she progressed through the ranks.
Daniels agreed with him.
‘Right,’ she said. ‘Drop everything. I want a concerted effort to bring Makepeace in. Run a full background check: houses, haunts, vehicles, friends, family – whatever it takes. And I want it yesterday. I also want covert obs of the North Pennines search area overnight in case he turns up to move Jess again. I want a doctor standing by, briefed on her possible condition, should we find her, with full access to her med history, blood group, et cetera.’ Daniels paused, wondering if it was possible to requisition the police helicopter. ‘Can you sanction India 99 for our sole use, guv?’
Bright and Naylor looked at each other in a moment of confusion.
Everybody laughed, including the two of them.
‘She doesn’t want much, does she?’ Bright said, just as his mobile rang.
There was a brief hiatus as he took the call.
Pocketing the phone, he nodded to Daniels.
‘Adam’s here,’ he said.