Maggie was at home when Jack got back.
‘Let’s have a takeaway Chinese,’ she said. ‘Do you want to order, and see if Penny would like to join us?’
‘OK, is the number in the book by the phone?’
‘Yes, unless you’d prefer to have something else, like a burger or a curry?’
‘Chinese sounds good. I’ll order us the usual.’
Maggie opened the freezer section of the fridge and took out a ‘cook in the bag’ chicken for the next evening. She then checked the fridge for vegetables and began making a shopping list of things for Penny to get the next day.
Jack ordered the takeaway and went up to see his mother and daughter.
‘Thank you for taking her juice into the nursery today,’ Penny said, after declining Jack’s offer of a takeaway. ‘I left it in the kitchen.’
‘That’s OK. I met the new girl.’
‘Anna is very sweet and all the children love her.’
‘I thought she said her name was Carol?’
‘Oh yes, that’s right. Can you mention to Maggie that I’m going to bingo on Friday, so I won’t be here to babysit? But I can get Hannah ready for bed before I leave.’
‘Sure, I’ll be home early on Friday. Are sure you won’t join us?’
‘Yes, thank you, I’ve already eaten with Hannah. You have a nice evening together. Oh, was it the right address for Ridley?’
‘Yes. Thanks for that.’
Jack kissed his mother on the cheek, then read a story to Hannah for a while before going downstairs to wait for the food to be delivered. Maggie met him in the hall and said she was going up to say goodnight to Hannah, then have a quick shower before they ate.
Jack got the plates out to warm them, opened a bottle of wine and set the table. He had already drunk a glass before the doorbell rang and the food arrived. Maggie came downstairs in her dressing gown, just as he was opening up all the different cartons and placing them on the table.
‘Perfect timing!’ he said.
‘Is Penny joining us?’ Maggie asked.
‘Nope, she said she’d already eaten with Hannah. And she wanted us to know that she has her bingo on Friday night. Are you on late shift this week?’
‘No, next week. I might be on call this weekend though. We have two nurses off and it’s starting to have huge repercussions. We’re so tired out, and we’ve been having Covid cases lined up in corridors whilst we try to find beds. The A&E department is swamped and trying to make people adhere to the rules is very trying. Lots of us are beginning to lose patience.’
Jack nodded sympathetically as he ate, using his chopsticks to shovel the food into his mouth as Maggie jabbed at the noodles with her fork. He poured her a glass of wine, sensing her exhaustion.
‘So, how was your day? Did you get to see Ridley?’ she asked, taking a large sip.
‘Yeah, it was the right place, but I didn’t go inside; he saw me parked and came out. He said he was still all clear with his cancer being in full remission, but there is something going on. He wouldn’t tell me what and he was on edge.’
‘You think he was lying?’
‘I don’t know . . . I mean, he said he felt fine, but he didn’t look it and just wanted me to leave and not to contact him again.’
‘No doubt he’ll tell you what’s going down when he’s ready. Maybe you just have to give him some space for a bit. How was it at the station?’
‘A few things cropped up. The kid that assaulted the shop assistant has quite a record for previous attacks, but I interviewed his girlfriend. She’s in a hostel, told me she had been with him since she was twelve. She was a runaway and he had virtually kept her prisoner.’
‘She was only twelve?’
‘Yeah, she’s seventeen now, but she’s very young for her age. I got a message from the carer at the hostel. They traced her parents to Liverpool, but I’m not sure if they’re coming down to collect her. Thing is, we found no record of her being a missing person. I’m going to do some leg work tomorrow and get a warrant to search the basement flat where they were living. I think he had other girls there, but when he was arrested no one took a look. It was almost a perfect arrest. He admitted assaulting the guy in the local shop and handed over the knife. I was just brought in to oversee the final investigation and tick all the boxes. But my gut instinct is that something isn’t right. I also spoke to the psychiatrist that his GP had referred him to a few years ago, when he had committed a similar offence. His secretary called him a “troubled soul”. Apparently there was a fire at his family home and his two sisters burnt to death.’
‘Did he do it? Was it arson?’
‘Not proved. They had fire investigators examine the scene who concluded it was an electrical fault. I’ve not seen the coroner’s report but reading between the lines there was some suspicion about the fire. Tomorrow I’m going to visit his father in prison.’
‘What about his mother?’
‘She died of a heroin overdose a few years ago.’
‘Gosh, no wonder he’s a lost soul!’
Jack emptied the rest of the fried rice onto his plate. ‘I would really have liked to talk to Ridley about the case, but he just told me to stay away.’
‘Surely there will eventually be some information about why he’s been replaced.’
‘There was someone at the house. I didn’t see who it was, but I think he was in uniform. It was all a bit awkward.’
Maggie had her eyes closed and was falling asleep at the table. Jack pushed his chair gently back, took her in his arms and kissed her. He then helped her up and guided her out of the kitchen, saying he would join her after he had cleared up. She hugged him before slowly making her way up the stairs. Jack gathered all the empty cartons and put them into the waste bin. He then put the plates and cutlery into the dishwasher and wiped the table and the surfaces. He didn’t feel like going to bed quite yet, so he poured himself another glass of wine and went up to his office.
He decided he would make a list of what he intended to do the following day, including applying for a warrant. He was also going to do what Ridley had suggested and go back and cross reference everything again. He stopped and listened, as he could hear Penny chatting, just as he had done the previous night. He got up and went onto the landing. He heard her laughing, and then speaking so quietly he couldn’t make out what she was saying. He felt guilty as he listened, then he heard her saying goodbye to someone and the call ended.
Maggie was sound asleep when Jack went in, and he crept around so as not to disturb her. He didn’t even put the lights on in the bathroom in case it woke her. He eased into bed beside her and gently drew the duvet up around himself as he rested his head back on the pillows. This was becoming their usual routine. Maggie was always so tired when she got home from the hospital and Jack was glad they had Penny. However, he decided that he would get Maggie to sit down and talk about the possibility of her taking some time off soon. She had been on the front line doing crazy hours for a long time, and he admired her for it, but if it was going to damage her health then he felt he needed to say something. They had spent very little quality time together recently, and tonight was the first time they had had a proper conversation in weeks.
By the time Jack woke up the following morning, Maggie was already downstairs and about to leave for work whilst Penny was giving Hannah breakfast in her highchair. Jack hurried down into the hallway still in his pyjamas as Maggie was putting on her coat.
‘I didn’t wake you, darling . . . you were in a deep coma!’ she said, laughing.
‘What time is it?’
‘Almost eight. I have to get my skates on.’ She wrapped her arms around him and kissed him on the lips.
‘My God, I had better get showered and out as well. Will you be late tonight?’
‘No, I hope not. Have a good day. I love you.’
Jack went into the kitchen. Penny was adding to Maggie’s shopping list of the things she needed to get on her way back from nursery. She asked him to get out some shopping bags for her and put them under the carriage of Hannah’s pushchair.
‘I can easily get everything Maggie wants and wheel it back home.’
‘Do you need some cash?’ he asked.
She paused. ‘Well, I am a bit short.’
Jack had to run back upstairs to get his wallet. He handed Penny a £50 note.
‘Thanks,’ she smiled. ‘I usually use my debit card, but I need a top-up on that if you can organise it for me. They still don’t like cash these days.’
‘Right, I’ll call the bank and sort it out when I get to the station.’
‘Thank you, dear. You have a good day.’
Jack hurried back upstairs to shower and get dressed. He was pissed off at himself, as he had wanted to get an early start, and it now looked as if he would have to go straight to Wandsworth prison for his interview with Rodney Middleton’s father. He collected all his notes from his home office, stuffing them into his briefcase, and went out to the pea-green car he detested so much.
Laura was working at her desk when Jack rang to say that he would be returning to the station as soon as his meeting was over. He asked if she could do him a favour, or get one of the secretaries to help with a further search into details about the fire that had occurred at Middleton’s home.
‘I got what I could yesterday, but I suppose I can do some further research,’ she said. ‘Lucky for you my case has been sorted, so I have some spare time. I should be able to pull up all you need on the Holmes/CRIS system.’
‘I also want the names of the officers who reported the incident.’
‘It was a few years ago, Jack,’ Laura said doubtfully.
‘Only six years ago, so you might find them, plus their contact details as well as the names of the officers who worked on Rodney Middleton’s first assault charge.’
‘Bloody hell, Jack, you don’t half push your luck.’
Jack hung up and then made another call on his hands-free system, to the clinic that Angus Seymour had referred Rodney to. A receptionist answered and forwarded his call to Dr Natalie Burrows. By this time Jack was parking in a bay close to Wandsworth prison.
Natalie Burrows was abrupt but listened as Jack requested a meeting with her. She said that she could free a ‘window’ at twelve that morning, but if that was no good it would have to be the following day. Jack said he would be able to see her at midday and hung up. He finished manoeuvring into a tight parking bay where the vehicles on either side were over their lines. Sometimes the small pea-green car was useful, and he didn’t really care if the bumper acquired a few more dents.
As expected, Jack had to go through lengthy security procedures to enter the prison. After completing all the relevant forms and having his ID verified, he left his briefcase and mobile phone with the duty officers and was led to the section used by prisoners for meetings with their legal teams.
It was a small, airless room with a table and two chairs under a high, cobweb-covered window that faced the outside wall. The floor was covered in worn lino and the door had square frosted glass in the top half. Jack sat and waited for over ten minutes before a uniformed officer opened the door and stood back to allow Anthony Middleton to enter.
He was a huge man with heavily muscled arms covered in tattoos from his hands to his shoulders. He was in his late forties with thick black hair and equally thick eyebrows, and his pock-marked face was covered in dark stubble. He had a stubby nose, and his mouth was pursed in a thin-lipped snarl. His only redeeming features were his striking blue eyes.
Jack stood up to introduce himself and shake Middleton’s hand, thanking him for agreeing to talk to him. The officer looked at Jack then indicated that he would be outside the door. Middleton sat down.
‘I don’t know if you are aware that your son was recently arrested?’ Jack began.
‘I know. My sister wrote to me . . . said someone had told her.’
‘I’m part of the investigation, and I just wanted to ask you a few questions.’
‘I can’t help you . . . I don’t speak to him. I’ve not seen him in years.’
Jack nodded. ‘I just need a bit of background from you. I’m sorry if it distresses you but . . .’
Middleton leant forwards. ‘I hope they lock the little bastard up . . . ideally in here. I’d like to get my hands on him.’
Jack kept his tone neutral. ‘It’s about the fire. Can you tell me what happened?’
Middleton leaned back and shook his head. ‘I been asked about that, over and over. Karen never got over it. It broke her . . . nearly broke me. She went back on the drugs, and I went and done a few stupid things and ended up in here. Not that there’s anything for me on the outside now anyway.’
‘Can you talk me through the night it happened?’
He nodded and let out a long sigh. ‘I was in the pub. Karen and me had been rowing a lot. She had just come out of rehab, and was stressed out, and the two little ones were playing up a lot. She said she was going to see some friends. I didn’t like it, because she had some friends that I didn’t approve of, and I was worried she’d start using again. We had a big argument and she flounced out. So I told him, Rodney, to take care of the girls.’
‘How old was he?’
‘Seventeen. He was working at a local supermarket, stacking shelves. He agreed to stay home that night. He’d been in a bit of trouble, thieving, but he was going to try to get back on track and take some exams. He was quite clever . . . well, he thought he was. I was always at logger-heads with him, and Karen wasn’t happy with him either. Kept saying he was messing around with the girls.’
Jack leaned forward. ‘What did she mean by that?’
He shrugged. ‘Said he was too touchy-feely with them, but I didn’t really believe her. They were only five and seven years old. He was good with them, and they liked him playing with them.’
‘So, on the night of the fire?’
‘I was drinking and had a right skinful. Then someone come into the pub and yells that there’s a fire in my street. It was my bloody house, and it was completely ablaze by the time I got there. Fire engines were already dowsing it with hose pipes, but the upstairs windows had smoke billowing out and the flames were blazing downstairs. Rodney come out with a steaming blanket over him. He’d tried to get up the stairs . . . well, that’s what they told me. They wouldn’t let us get near. I bloody tried . . . but it was burning so fierce. The windows were blowing out and this horrible thick black smoke was everywhere. My two little girls didn’t stand a chance.’
Jack remained silent as Middleton bowed his head, twisting his big hands.
‘Their bedroom was on the top floor. I never heard a scream or nothing, and by the time they got it under control and tried to get in, there was no hope.’
‘How was Rodney behaving?’
‘Crying, sobbing . . . they gave him some treatment in the ambulance. They brought the kids out as soon as they could, but you just knew the way they had the blankets wrapped around them . . . covering their heads . . . they were dead.’
‘When did Karen find out what had happened?’
‘Same night. Someone called her. She came in a taxi. She was screaming and then she collapsed. They took her into the ambulance. She saw Rodney and started kicking him and trying to beat him up. It was all just a terrible scene. She had wanted him to leave the house and that’s what we were rowing about. She’s not his mother. The bitch that was Rodney’s mum ran off, leaving me with him when he was just seven years old. I was told she went back to Jamaica, but I’ve not heard a word from her since. Karen brought Rodney up, and then we had the two girls.’
‘Is Rodney’s mother Jamaican?’
‘Yes. He found it tough as a kid being mixed race, and he got a lot of abuse at his school. But I always sorted it out for him. I taught him how to take care of himself, took him to a gym for boxing lessons. He was good, skinny but strong.’
Jack took a moment to absorb everything Middleton had told him. He had only seen a blurry photograph of Rodney, so he had no idea about his background. There had been no emotion when Middleton had described the night of the fire, as if he had repeated the story many times. It left Jack with more questions than answers.
Jack noticed the prison officer peering through the window in the door, so Jack thanked Middleton and gestured for the officer to take him back to his cell.
*
Jack drove from Wandsworth to Natalie Burrows’ clinic, not far from Shepherd’s Bush and Rodney Middleton’s basement flat. He wondered if Seymour had chosen it because of the location, hopeful that Rodney might be more likely to keep his appointments.
The clinic was in a new build, hemmed in between two residential properties just off the high street. Once again Jack had trouble finding a parking space and drove around for a while until he found a single yellow line, then parked leaving his police vehicle logbook on the dashboard in full view.
By the time he had walked to the clinic it was just before midday and he was relieved that he was going to be on time. There was just a small desk with a young girl sitting behind it, using a computer. The clinic looked as if it had been built in the sixties and was definitely in need of refurbishing.
‘Excuse me, I have an appointment to see Dr Natalie Burrows. I’m Detective Sergeant Jack Warr.’
The receptionist continued typing before looking up. She then opened a large appointment diary and flicked through the pages. Jack waited patiently before she reached for the phone and pressed two numbers.
‘There is a Mr Warr here, for his twelve o’clock.’
She replaced the receiver and pointed to a glass door, telling Jack to go up to the second floor where he would be met and taken through to see Dr Burrows.
A threadbare ivy-green carpet ran up the stairs, turning into a brick red lino on the second floor. It looked very clean and there was a strong smell of disinfectant. The numerous closed doors all had name plates, and Jack stood looking around at the plethora of framed landscape reproductions. He could hear the murmur of voices before a door opened and a woman in a white coat appeared. He was surprised by how young Natalie Burrows was. She had shoulder-length silky hair and wide brown eyes, along with a rather prominent hooked nose.
‘Detective Warr?’
Jack nodded and reached for his ID, but Burrows had already turned back to go through the door, gesturing for him to follow.
The small waiting area was painted white and contained four hard-backed chairs and a stack of magazines on a spindle-legged coffee table. Burrows had left her office door open and Jack followed her in. She gestured for him to take a seat. Filing cabinets took up most of the space around the room, and her modern-looking desk had a laptop and phone with files stacked to one side.
Burrows pulled out a comfortable desk chair and sat down, wheeling it close to her desk. Jack undid his jacket button and placed his briefcase down beside him.
‘You wanted to talk to me about Rodney Middleton? Obviously, you are aware of patient confidentiality. I am his reserve psychiatrist. By that I mean he was transferred from CAMHS to this clinic to be a patient of Dr Donaldson’s, who is currently on holiday. I’m listed as the reserve to see Rodney whilst Dr Donaldson is away, should it be required.’
Burrows opened a file, glancing at the numerous documents before sitting back and folding her arms. She looked at a small watch on her slender wrist before she spoke.
‘I assume Angus Seymour suggested you came to see me. If I can answer any questions you have without breaching any confidentiality, then I will obviously do whatever I can to assist you.’
Jack nodded. ‘Did Rodney Middleton come to the clinic for regression therapy?’
‘Yes, Dr Donaldson is very much an advocate of regression when it seems appropriate.’
‘What do you mean by that?’
‘If the patient seems to be repressing emotions, regression can be a very valuable means of discovering what may be deeply buried.’
‘Did Rodney Middleton benefit from this therapy?’
She pursed her lips and glanced at the file. ‘I believe Dr Donaldson found the patient unwilling to participate. Also, according to his appointment book, Rodney persisted in missing his appointments. As we are an NHS clinic this is a huge waste of our over-stretched resources. We always have a lengthy waiting list, and we have to report lack of attendance to a client’s probation officers where it is appropriate.’
‘Was Rodney here via a probationary parole requirement?’
‘Yes, he was. The reason I’m able to tell you that is because it was some time ago, and I believe Dr Donaldson sent in his report, as did Dr Seymour.’
‘So, was he mentally ill?’
Natalie began to slowly turn pages in the file in front of her, then frowned, turning back a few pages.
‘He was referred to Dr Seymour when he was seventeen, after a family tragedy. According to his GP he was suffering from depression and severe anxiety. He was prescribed medication, but it appears that this was not being taken, and he was therefore heading for a possible nervous breakdown. However, as you can see, this is quite an extensive file. Rodney Middleton was referred for further treatment a few years later, this time via a probation department.’
Jack saw Burrows glance at her watch again. Judging by the thick file there was a lot more information than she was willing to divulge.
‘Was there any indication that Rodney was violent, or suffering from multiple personality disorder?’
Burrows hesitated. ‘He was certainly angry and prone to aggressive behaviour. I found no suggestion of multiple personality disorder, though, having said that, it was reported that he did have an ability to quickly switch his moods from aggressive to charming. I suggest you might gain more information from the probationary department, as the details must be in his criminal records.’
Jack nodded. ‘Was he ever sectioned?’
‘Not to my knowledge.’
‘Was there any reference to his over-familiarity with young girls?’
Burrows pursed her lips and closed the file. When she pointedly looked at her watch again, Jack leaned forwards.
‘I am investigating a serious assault, Dr Burrows. I have discovered that Rodney kept a young twelve-year-old girl virtual prisoner for several years. He was also violent towards her, and his own father has told me that his wife was concerned that Rodney was “touchy-feely” towards his young half-sisters.’
Burrows frowned. ‘Are you asking me if Rodney had paedophiliac traits? To my knowledge that has never been diagnosed, either by Dr Donaldson or Dr Seymour.’
‘What about your own interaction with him?’ Jack pressed.
‘I don’t think you quite understand my position, Detective Warr. I explained to you I am here as a reserve psychiatrist, to be available should Mr Middleton require an appointment when Dr Donaldson is absent. I have not had any direct interaction with Mr Middleton, but I am privy to his files in case I am required to have an appointment with him.’
‘So, you have read his past medical history?’
‘Yes, of course. And when you rang, I took the trouble to read over the files again.’
Jack leaned back and reached down for his briefcase. Burrows immediately stood up, eager for him to leave. Instead, he placed the case on his knee, opened it, and took out two pages of notes that he had made the previous evening.
‘I am here to try and ascertain Rodney Middleton’s state of mind when he attacked a local shopkeeper and used a knife in a threatening manner, causing serious injuries. I am also aware that he beat up his girlfriend before the attack. But I have grave concerns that he may have committed even more serious crimes.’
Jack waved the pages in front of Burrows before placing them back in his briefcase. Burrows chewed at her bottom lip, then sighed.
‘I am sorry not to be able to be more helpful. It is unethical of me to have even given you my personal opinion. We have to adhere to a strict code of confidentiality.’
‘But he’s not your patient,’ Jack snapped.
She sat back and flipped open the file again, then wrote something down in her notebook before ripping off the page, folding it and handing it to Jack. She stood up.
‘These are the names of the probation officers, should you require more information.’
Jack pocketed the note, knowing he could easily get the names from Middleton’s records. He thanked Burrows for her time and left.
By the time Jack returned to the station it was after two o’clock, so he went up to the canteen to grab a sandwich and a coffee. The CID office was half empty, with just a few probationary officers sitting at their desks.
‘Where is everyone?’ Jack asked.
‘Board meeting with the DCI, for an update.’
Jack sighed, knowing he would get a few harsh words from Clarke. He grabbed his notes and went over to join the probation officers. He asked them to get moving on bringing up all of Rodney Middleton’s previous records and to track down the fire teams who had handled the blaze at his family home, as well as the probationary records they had on file. He then asked a young female officer if she could contact mispers again in Liverpool, as they still had no confirmation regarding Amanda’s time away from home. He told her to go back five years to see if they had any other information on Amanda Dunn, or if there had been any reports of a black girl, possibly Jamaican, who also went missing around the same time.
Jack picked up his coffee, logged on and typed in his report on his recent meetings, including the prison visit to Rodney Middleton’s father. He saw, in large letters on the screen, that all members of the team should be in the boardroom at 1.15 p.m. for a progress report.
Jack wandered out and headed to the boardroom. He was just about to enter when the door opened and the team came out in dribs and drabs. He waited until Laura emerged and she immediately rolled her eyes at him.
‘You are really in for it; you were supposed to be back here by mid-morning, and no one seemed to know where you were. I covered for you and said I knew you were going to Wandsworth Prison, but . . .’
She stopped as DCI Clarke appeared behind her.
‘DS Warr. A few words. Now.’
Jack followed him back into the boardroom and closed the door. ‘Sorry to have missed the meeting . . . I got held up at the prison, then had the appointment with Middleton’s psychiatrist. I did make a note of my whereabouts and will make out my detailed report straightaway.’
Clarke frowned. ‘You seem to be conducting your own investigation, DS Warr. You were allocated to oversee the forthcoming trial which, until my arrival, had simply been an arrest with the suspect pleading guilty at the magistrates’ court. So why – after my discussion with you yesterday – are you giving priority to these meetings?’
‘I just felt we had not got enough on Middleton’s psychiatric background. On a previous occasion he has committed a similar offence and was put on probation due to mental health issues.’
‘Yes, and . . .?’ There was a deep note of scepticism in Clarke’s voice.
‘I felt it was important to interview his psychiatrists. In his case, at two different clinics.’
‘So, what did you gain from these interviews?’
‘Middleton did not attend all his appointments and refused to take his medication. Both National Health clinics and his GP were concerned about his mental state.’
‘So, having had these meetings what is your conclusion?’
‘I think this young man is very dangerous. If he succeeds in avoiding a custodial sentence yet again, I think he is a great risk. He is prone to violence and appears to prefer very young girls.’
Clarke looked up sharply, frowning. ‘There has been no previous reference to this.’
‘I know that, sir. But Rodney’s father said his son had been told to leave their home as he had been over-familiar with the two little girls. I also interviewed his girlfriend. She has been with him since she was a twelve-year-old runaway, and she inferred that he had picked up other young girls as well. Perhaps I’m being over diligent in my investigation, sir, but to me there are alarm bells – ’
Clarke interrupted him, waving his hand. ‘Never mind the dramatics, DS Warr. If I understand correctly, your concerns are that Middleton might yet again avoid a custodial sentence due to his medical history.’
‘Yes, sir, and that he may well go on to commit murder. In fact, he may have already done so. This is the reason I would like to get a search warrant for his basement flat. From the case file it appears to me that although a uniformed officer did actually do a search of the flat, it was not thorough. They weren’t looking for any blood or other weapons as Middleton handed a knife over to them after assaulting the newsagent.’
Clarke nodded then glanced at his watch and gave Jack a long, cold stare.
‘Right, I want a detailed report of the interviews you conducted today. I seriously hope you’re not embroidering the facts of this case. I will need to consider everything before I give you the green light to continue your investigation. I understand your concerns regarding Amanda Dunn, and I’m confident that the right department is now handling the situation. I also need to know every officer’s whereabouts at all times so make sure you and your team’s daily duties are recorded on CRIS. That’s all for now, sergeant.’
Jack watched him walk out and sat back to finish his cold coffee. He drained the takeaway cup and tossed it into the bin.
He missed Ridley.