Their Lost Daughters (DI Jackman & DS Evans #2)(58)
Jackman swore. Today was turning into a nightmare. ‘Then there’s nothing we can do about it. We can try this farmer that Lee lodges with. Tanner, I think his name is.’
‘Maybe I could help uniform out with the house-to-house at Roman Creek?’ asked Rosie. ‘They are pretty stretched, and there are more properties out there than I thought.’
‘Good idea. Right. This is how things stand so far. Ted Watchman has gone over to Windrush to check out a possible sealed entrance to the underground room. The crime scene isn’t released to us yet. Micah Lee is unfit to interview, and our CCTV footage on the drinking club has been hijacked. Not a great start, but we’ve plenty to get on with.’
He looked at the team. ‘I suggest that Charlie goes with you, Rosie, to pitch in with the house-to-house, and Marie comes with me. Max? I’d like you to go to Broome’s town residence. Take a couple of uniforms and see what you can find out about the man. Don’t ransack the place, but take a careful look around.’ The memory of all those flowers on the dead girls’ lockers came back to him. ‘And don’t forget to check the annexe where Elizabeth Sewell lives. Oh, and while you’re there, find out who the gardener is.’
Jackman turned to Gary. ‘You come with us to Mr Lee’s lodgings. We’ll see what Mr Tanner thinks about him.’ Then he remembered something. He called across to Clive, the office manager. ‘I’d like you to be at your diplomatic best, and phone Grace Black.’ He pulled a face. ‘She needs to be assured that we are not forgetting our responsibility to Kenya. Tell her that this case has escalated, and that I will be in touch personally very soon, okay?’
Clive gave him the thumbs-up. ‘Don’t you worry, sir. I’ll be discreet, polite, sensitive, tactf—’
‘Okay. I get the picture.’
*
As they drove out of town, Jackman looked at Gary. He seemed quieter than usual. ‘Is it Emily?’ he asked. ‘I know how disappointed we all are, all hoping she would point us to the killer.’
Gary shook his head. ‘That’s true, but no, something else is bothering me.’ He screwed his face up and then it came out in a rush. ‘Thing is, I was really concerned about Chief Superintendent Cade taking those CCTV tapes, sir, so I had a word with a mate of mine at Harlan Marsh.’ He turned to Jackman. ‘He’s straight as a die, my friend, and I know he won’t mention this.’
Jackman slipped the car into fifth gear and listened.
‘Apparently, as soon as he heard that you were up to your neck in bodies out at Roman Creek, Cade hared over to Saltern like a greyhound out of a trap. He asked the super how your enquiries regarding the drinking club were going — and the rest is history.’
‘What do you make of that?’ asked Marie from the back seat.
‘That he knows someone involved in this illegal club and wants to protect them.’
‘Another of his buddies up to his armpits in the brown and sticky stuff!’ Marie snorted. ‘So why ask us to investigate in the first place? If he has friends up to no good, you don’t invite a crack team to start poking around.’
‘Frankly, Sarge . . .’ Gary nibbled on his bottom lip. ‘I’d bet a fiver on the fact that he really believed that Toni had done one of her usual running-away tricks, and he was just showing off to Neil Clarkson by getting you to look for her.’ His eyes narrowed, ‘I’d put nothing past that man. And looking back on it, our hunt for the club has been dogged by bad luck from the day we started. I’ve been thinking for a while now that someone was tipping them off.’ His face was set. ‘I’ve seen evidence disappear, witnesses suddenly drop charges, and all manner of dodgy goings on in my time at that station.’
Jackman swung the car off the main road and onto a long straight drove. He stared out across the fallow fields, and said. ‘Would your mate make a few more discreet enquiries for you?’
Gary nodded. ‘He owes me one so I’ll call in the debt. Mind you, if he thought he was helping to upset Cade’s applecart, he’d do it for love.’
‘Then ask him to keep an eye on Cade’s “helpful investigation” into the club.’
Gary pulled out his phone and called his friend. ‘Sorted.’ He smiled grimly. ‘He’s a good lad. He’ll ring me when he knows something.’
For a few minutes they all contemplated the sunshine glinting on the silver-grey waters of the wide drain running alongside the farm drove. ‘This is a very beautiful county,’ said Gary quietly. ‘How can the people in it do so much evil?’
The house where Lee lived was a typical fenland farmhouse. With its chimney stacks at either end of the steep slate roof, central porch and front door, and bay windows either side, it looked to Jackman like a child’s drawing.
The barns that were set around were neat and tidy, and oddly silent.
No one answered the door. Jackman was just beginning to think that they’d had a wasted journey when a tall, muscular man, wearing dusty jeans and a shabby wax jacket, appeared from one of the larger storerooms.
Gary waved, and the man strode over to them.
Gary showed him his ID. ‘We’re looking for Mr Tanner. I’m PC Pritchard and this is DI Jackman and DS Evans.’
They offered their warrant cards and the man glanced at them.