Dead Of Winter (Willis/Carter #1)(49)
‘Yes. It’s got a note attached. Louise Carmichael’s blood, found on path outside gate. It’s not fabric; it’s hospital gauze. And I’ve checked all the police records for that day; there was no report of a police vehicle sustaining any damage on that visit. The hospital confirmed that their ambulance was not the one that knocked over the gatepost.’
Ebony left the Tube and walked past the few shops on her way back to Fletcher House. She was nearly back at the office when she saw a man walking towards her. His eyes were fixed on her from twenty metres away. He took long strides, walked straight. Others stepped out of his path. It was his eyes she recognized, the rest of him was nothing like the farmer she’d seen a few days before. Carmichael stopped in front of her. ‘You want to talk?’
The café wasn’t busy upstairs. It used to be the ‘smoking’ section and people just forgot about it now that smoking was banned. Carmichael took off his thick cashmere overcoat and put it on the seat beside him.
‘I went back to the farm to talk to you. I saw Bridget.’
‘She told me.’ Carmichael’s eyes roamed the room as he answered, checking out a man coming upstairs to use the bathroom.
Ebony looked away, fiddled with her cup.
‘Why didn’t you stay on the farm? Thought you understood we would keep you informed?’
‘Thought I could inform myself much better. You must have known I wouldn’t stay where I was. Did you honestly think I would take the information you gave me and do nothing? You chose to involve me. You came to see me . . . remember?’
‘I was sent to talk to you.’
He looked at her and remembered what it felt like to be betrayed by someone in authority, someone further up the chain of command. His voice softened. ‘You must have known I would do all I could to find the people who killed Louise and Sophie. I’m not the one putting your career in jeopardy. Consider the fact that they’re using me and they’re using you to do it.’ Ebony looked into his eyes. ‘We can help one another, you and I. Let me tell you what I know, then I want something back from you. You use whatever I tell you in any way you see fit. You are looking for Sonny?’ She looked at him, trying hard to hide the surprise she felt. She had underestimated him, but she shouldn’t have. Robbo was right: Carmichael had ways inside the system.
‘Yes. We are looking for him. His DNA matches the dead baby’s at Blackdown Barn.’
Carmichael didn’t give anything away.
‘Don’t waste your time with him. Sonny is just a trafficker. He gets the girls over here and he breaks them. Sonny only supplies girls for Digger, no one else. Digger starts them on the circuit of clubs and brothels. Now your turn to talk.’
Ebony looked across at him. ‘You didn’t tell me you knew Chrissie well. In fact, you said the opposite. You said she was Louise’s friend but actually . . . she was yours.’
Carmichael shrugged it off. ‘We once thought about dating but never did. We kept in touch with a twice yearly email. After she had the baby she got back in touch with me. I was married by that time. She didn’t seem to mind. She slotted in and Louise was really fond of her. From that minute on I faded into the background.’
‘Why did she get in touch with you, do you think? Do you think she wanted to strike up something; after all, lots of people go back to past relationships that “might have been”, especially as she found herself alone with the baby.’
‘I never got that impression. But . . . as it turned out, she and Louise got on better than we ever would have. How far have you got with new evidence from Rose Cottage? Is Davidson reopening the case?’
‘Not yet. He believes the key to finding out who killed your wife and child is finding out who Chichester is. I’ve been looking over the old autopsy reports. Did you ever see them?’
He shook his head. ‘I told you – I was in no fit state to see anything for the first year. I never queried anything I was told . . . I never saw the autopsy reports. It’s not something you show to the family, even if they are police. You know that.’
‘There is a briefing today. We will be discussing your case. Jo Harding is going to be talking us through those autopsy results.’
‘Harding has her own agenda. She hates me, always did. She was a good friend of Chrissie’s. They trained together. I could see she always blamed me. Maybe she was right to . . . Harding won’t like being pushed. She might be straight out of the pages of a Jackie Collins novel but she doesn’t like people knowing anything about her that she hasn’t told them whilst performing fellatio.’
‘You might be wrong about Harding.’ Ebony hid a smile behind her coffee. ‘She says she barely knew Chrissie. She’s fought to have the case reopened. I went with her to Rose Cottage.’
‘What did you find?’
‘It hasn’t been touched since that day. A gardener looks after the outside, that’s all. When you got there that morning did you notice a section of the gatepost was knocked down?’
‘The gate was open . . . yes, there was rubble at the foot of the post.’
‘Large tyre tracks were found. Something had difficulty turning. They took out the upper part of the post. A large van maybe.’
‘Significant?’
‘Maybe. Did you see blood outside the house?’