Bad Sister(57)

‘Fine,’ Connie conceded, not that she had much choice. ‘I’ll bring it in.’

‘Thanks, I’d appreciate that.’

‘Look, I am aware of how this all looks,’ Connie said, ‘but all I did was write a report, subsequently I was made a scapegoat and left the prison service, then I started my own business. I had absolutely no contact with anyone from the prison service, employees or prisoners. That is, until last week, when I first bumped into Jonesy at Coleton train station. That was the same day you and Mack turned up, and suddenly my name, yet again, became embroiled in a drama. Not long after, I got back into contact with a former colleague, Niall—’

‘Was his name on the list?’ Lindsay cut in.

‘Yes. But I’d not heard from him in a year prior to him calling.’

‘So, he got in contact with you just after Hargreaves’ body was found?’ Lindsay bit the corner of her bottom lip.

‘Yes.’ Her previous nagging thought came back to her. She’d considered whether Niall had been the one to give further details to the police about her links to Hargreaves. He hadn’t known that her name was written on his dead hand, as the police kept that undisclosed. Therefore, why had he been so quick to give her name and get her involved in the investigation? A horrible thought occurred to her. Maybe he’d been the one who’d served Hargreaves up on a platter for her.

The idea was ridiculous. But, watching the look on Lindsay’s face, she realised it wasn’t ridiculous to her.

It was a plausible possibility.





CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE


DI Wade


She’d let Connie go home. Mack hadn’t been impressed with that call, but Lindsay wasn’t about to give her reasons in public; she would need to speak with him in private before he left the station. Worried that Connie had been upset and shaky following their discussion, Lindsay asked DC Clarke to drop her back to her house. She’d left without another word. Lindsay berated herself for jumping in feet first. Her gut told her that Connie had nothing to do with Hargreaves’ death, not intentionally anyway. Treating her as a suspect felt wrong. She believed what Connie had told her about the photo of her and Jones. She couldn’t help but feel sorry for her. Sometimes things weren’t as they first appeared. That’s how she thought about this situation: this whole thing might be someone pinning blame on Connie, as she had history. What better person to fit up for wrongdoing? Someone sending incriminating evidence to the police, anonymously, was suspicious in itself. They needed to find the mystery photographer.

At least they had a potential new lead. Niall Frazer, a former lover of Connie’s and an employee at HMP Baymead. His timing in getting back into contact with her just after the murder certainly fit with one of the theories – that it’d been done as a revenge killing for Connie. As some macabre gift. As for the photos, he might even be behind those – had he been jealous of Connie’s love life? He could’ve been following her, had the opportunity to take the one of Connie and Gary. But why would he have taken revenge for her, then tried to implicate her? That didn’t fit. So the two might not be linked. A different person took the photos. But Niall was a possible culprit for the murder. They should look through his initial statement and interview transcripts again; they might glean something different, something they missed initially. At the time their main focus had been on Hargreaves’ escape and who could have been involved internally. They’d been looking more closely at the statements given by the officers who’d had the most contact with Hargreaves.

Maybe they were looking in the wrong place.

She’d get Mack to go through it all – check again. That would also give him something to concentrate on, keep his mind off Connie. First, though, she needed to tell him what Connie had said.

‘Mack.’ She stood, looking in his direction. ‘A word, please?’ She raised her eyebrows and jerked her head in the direction of the spare office, located off the main incident room. Hopefully she could ease the animosity he felt towards Connie if she told him he’d been wrong about her. Or at least about the termination.

Lindsay sat on the desk’s edge, awaiting Mack’s entrance. He was taking his time. Sometimes he acted like a petulant child. Finally, he sauntered in.

‘You sulking, Mack?’

He ignored the question.

‘Look, I realise there’s a personal level to this for you,’ she crossed her arms, ‘but you should’ve disclosed this straight away. Not sat on it, brooding like a child.’

Mack’s head snapped up.

‘Really? That’s rich, Lindsay. You didn’t brood one bit when your husband left you for another woman, did you?’

Lindsay’s jaw tightened.

Mack held up his hands. ‘Sorry, sorry, Boss.’ His quick apology was a sign he knew immediately that he’d overstepped the mark. Lindsay should take him to task over it. But she wouldn’t. How could she, when he was dead right?

‘That’s below the belt, Mack.’

‘I know. Any chance you can forget I said that?’

‘No. Actually, Mack, there’s not. And I think you’ll find my professionalism didn’t waver throughout that time – only you knew about it.’

‘I know. I’m really sorry, I’ve let this stuff get to me – I’m not even sure why. If I’m honest, I think I’m angrier at myself than I am with Connie. Anyway, I shouldn’t be taking it out on you.’ He lowered his gaze, staring at his feet.