Jack said nothing but his heartbeat quickened as they approached the turning leading to the flat. They got out of the squad car and crossed over to the large van parked outside, to put on protective suits and shoe covers.

  Uniformed officers had cordoned off the street and were standing by to direct traffic towards a diversion, due to the discovery of possible toxic fumes. Clarke and Jack moved down the basement steps as two suited forensic officers were removing their lamps from the coal hole and placing them in the courtyard area outside the basement flat’s front door.

  Jack and DCI Clarke stood to one side as the large luminol pump was prepared to spray the now empty interior of the coal hole. Jack had never seen anything like it, as usually they just used a small handheld spray. There was a faint hissing sound as the forensic scientist moved around the dank coal hole and then began to slowly back out to join them. He had sprayed all the walls, the ceiling and the concrete floor and now handed the pump back to his assistant. He then picked up a high- powered torch and went back in, followed by Jack and DCI Clarke. The luminol would take a few minutes to take effect, so they got everything ready to photograph the glow when it appeared.

  ‘Oh my God,’ Clarke exclaimed in a shocked voice.

  Florescent green marks covered the walls, ceiling and floor. There were splatters, drag marks and handprints, as well as dense pools over the concrete floor. No explanation was needed: the horror of what must have occurred there was obvious.

  They were all so focused on the scene that surrounded them that the sudden sound of Beethoven being played at ear-splitting volume was startling. The music stopped as suddenly as it had begun as the basement door opened. Rodney Middleton stood there smiling. A uniformed officer had been positioned at the door and stepped to one side.

  ‘I suppose you want to arrest me? I’ve been waiting.’ He seemed to be enjoying the moment.

  DCI Clarke gestured to the two uniformed officers to come down to the basement courtyard. He cautioned Middleton and explained that he was being arrested on suspicion of murder and abduction. Middleton didn’t seem to be paying much attention. He turned to Jack and calmly said, ‘Can you go in and see Amanda? She’s very upset.’ Clarke nodded to Jack as Middleton was handcuffed and led up the stone steps to the street level.

  Jack was badly shaken, and took a breath before going into the flat. He stood in the hallway and he called out for Amanda, but there was no answer and he suddenly felt afraid at what he might find. He called out again, more loudly, then pushed open the main bedroom door. The room was strewn with takeaway cartons, littering the bed and the floor. Most of the containers looked half-eaten and there were also empty bottles of Coke.

  Jack hurried down the hallway, pushed open the bathroom door, then opened the door to the back room where he had last seen her. Amanda was sitting propped up on the bed, wearing a set of headphones connected to her phone. He quickly went to her side.

  ‘Amanda . . .’ He gently removed the headphones, and she instinctively shrank back. He could tell by her eyes that she was high. He pulled the duvet away. She was fully dressed, wearing the same pink bed socks.

  Jack called for an ambulance before gently easing Amanda out of bed and walking her to the open front door. He walked her up and down the courtyard, trying to keep her awake and asking her what she had taken. She was completely incoherent and it was a huge relief when the two paramedics arrived to take over.

  Jack stayed with Amanda until the ambulance left to take her to the nearest hospital. A young female officer accompanied her, and Jack called the station to ask Sara to meet them at the hospital and to keep him updated about Amanda’s condition. She was a key witness, and they would need to take further statements from her at some point.

  Rodney Middleton was placed in one of the station’s cells. As DCI Clarke had anticipated, he soon received a belligerent call from Georgina Bamford declaring that her client was being harassed and demanding to see him, though she instantly calmed down when it was explained that her client was being questioned about at least three murders and that she would be allowed to speak to him at the appropriate time.

  ‘You know perfectly well, DCI Clarke, that I have every right to talk to my client before you interview him,’ she said, regaining some of her poise.

  ‘Obviously and, as I said, that will be permitted, but not at the present time,’ Clarke insisted firmly.

  Jack was relieved that Middleton was finally in a police cell. He also knew that the hard work of building the evidence against Middleton to convict him was only just beginning. The most urgent task was to identify the victims they believed had been murdered in the coal hole. It would be a marathon task, but the forensic team were busy collecting blood samples to be tested for DNA. Tests on a wire brush, a saw and the contents of the rubbish bins also came up positive for blood stains. The subsequent search of the basement flat after Rodney’s arrest had also revealed matted human hair in the drains, from the plugs in the bathroom sink and shower, and the missing girls’ families had been contacted, asking for any personal items that might contain DNA for matching.

  In all there were now fifteen officers who would be working 24/7, all assigned to different groups by DCI Clarke. Rodney Middleton had lived in the basement flat for five years, so efforts were being concentrated on the missing girls who were known to have been staying with him during that time, but Jack couldn’t help wondering how many more victims there could be.

  Jack eventually returned home after 10 p.m., having called Penny earlier to let her know that he would be late and would have dinner at the station. DCI Clarke’s schedule had been divided up and Jack had agreed to take his fair share of day and night duties. There were officers who would be travelling to the homes of the missing girls in order to obtain as much information and evidence as possible to enable identification. Family liaison officers had to approach the families ahead of the officers’ arrival, and the detailed co-ordination of all this was very time-consuming.

  The forensic teams were working round the clock to process the vast number of items that had been brought in for testing, while another team were still at the basement flat, taking up floorboards and carpets and removing the entire shower unit and bath pipes in order to look for further evidence.

  Jack made himself a cup of coffee and laced it with brandy. He expected to find Maggie asleep, but she was sitting up in bed waiting for him. She knew just by looking at him that he was exhausted. He had a shower and scrubbed his body. He switched off the bathroom light and climbed into bed beside her.

  ‘Do you want to talk, or just crash out?’ she asked softly.

  ‘Dear God, Maggie . . . my brain feels as though I have a tight steel ring wrapped around it . . . I don’t honestly know where to begin. It was hell today.’

  Maggie said nothing and didn’t complain that his hair was soaking wet as his head flopped back onto the pillow. Instead, she turned towards him and gently stroked his shoulder as he began to recount his day to her. He spoke quietly and unemotionally. Maggie just listened without interruption, sensing him gradually starting to relax.

  ‘Then he was just standing there, Mags, waiting at the front door. He was obviously expecting to be arrested, smiling and calmly asking me to check on his girlfriend. Amanda was out of it; I don’t know what she had taken, or maybe he had given her something in the hope of killing her. She’s going to be a vital witness. They pumped her stomach and she’s been sedated. There’s an officer protecting her, but we’ll need to find a safe place for her to go, if she isn’t arrested and charged as an accomplice. My gut tells me she’s a liar and a devious little bitch.’

  Jack sighed deeply, then turned to face her.

  ‘I’m not sure if I can keep going, Mags. I feel completely worn out. I don’t know if I’m right for this job anymore. Sometimes I wish I could just keep toeing the line and not get so involved in cases. I feel as though I’ve lost my way. I still haven’t told you about what Ridley has got me into, because I could get right in the shit if it ever came out that I was digging into his case. As it is, I stupidly used one of the probationers to try and track down Sandra Raynor, the woman found murdered in the boot of his car; it was dumb, and he got no result, but it could come back and bite me on the arse.’ Maggie could feel him getting tense again.

  ‘So what did Ridley want you to do?’

  ‘I had to meet the contact he said would help me, because I’m stuck, Mags, and I can’t use the station’s computers.’

  ‘Yes, yes, you said that before.’

  ‘So I get there, a flat over in Fulham, and his contact turns out to be this drag queen, in full slap with a wig, false eyelashes and a velvet dressing gown, I mean, I dunno if it’s a he or she, or what the fuck I am doing there.’

  ‘Oh, come on, Jack, trans issues aren’t that complicated. Basically, we should all have one simple rule. If you were born male and want to live as a woman, go for it; same applies if you are woman and want to live as a man. But this person doesn’t actually sound like a trans woman; more like a male transvestite.’

  Jack propped himself up on his elbow.

  ‘Jesus Christ, Maggie, what the hell are you talking about?’

  ‘It sounded as if you were being derogatory about this person just because of their lifestyle.’

  He lay back closing his eyes.

  ‘Right, just forget it. I’m sorry I even brought it up. Now I feel even worse about what I’m getting into.’

  It was Maggie’s turn to prop herself up on her elbow so she could look down at him.

  ‘You might feel that way tonight, Jack, but once you’ve had a good night’s sleep things will seem better. Just remember that if it wasn’t for you, they would never have uncovered these poor innocent girls’ monstrous murders.’

  She looked at him and cupped his face in her hands. ‘Would you like me to give you something to help you sleep?’

  ‘Yeah, that would be good. I’m not due at the station until late tomorrow afternoon.’

  Maggie got out of bed and went into the bathroom. She took out a packet of sleeping tablets from the cabinet and tipped two out into her hand. She then emptied the toothbrush mug and filled it with water, carrying it back into the bedroom. Jack was fast asleep, so she swallowed the two tablets herself and set the alarm for 6 a.m. as she was on duty the next morning.

  She lay beside Jack, knowing how awful it must have been to see what he had seen today. But she also couldn’t help resenting his complete obliviousness to the horrors she had been dealing with on a daily basis. She had become reliant on sleeping tablets to knock herself out in order to be able to get up and face yet another horrific day. She also needed to discuss her concerns about Penny with him. Twice she had found the kettle boiling dry as well as the iron left on. Penny had also heated up some ready meals that were long past their use-by dates. Maggie was worried about Penny not checking that the freezer door was closed properly and concerned about how fresh the food was that she was giving Hannah.

  Maggie sighed, turning on her side and tucking her shoulder under her pillow. She felt like having a good cry. She was carrying so much responsibility and Jack seemed to be losing his confidence just at the moment she needed him to be strong for her and their daughter. She decided that tomorrow she would have a long talk with him; if he felt as if it was all too much, he should try stepping into her shoes for a while.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Maggie had left for work and Penny was getting ready to take Hannah to nursery, having been instructed not to wake Jack.

  Penny was preparing Hannah’s orange juice and packing a little ham sandwich and a biscuit for her mid-morning break. The smoke alarm suddenly went off and she ran to the toaster. She had forgotten that she had put a slice of bread in it earlier and hadn’t checked to see if it had got stuck, which it often did. The toast was now blackened, and smoke was billowing out into the kitchen. She opened the back door and swung it back and forth, then took a tea towel and wafted it around the smoke alarm. The alarm eventually stopped and she sighed with relief. Penny decided after she had dropped Hannah at school she would go and buy a new toaster. She listened for any movement upstairs, and was relieved that the alarm didn’t seem to have woken Jack.

  Jack eventually woke feeling totally disorientated, then looked at the bedside clock. It was 10.30 a.m. and he was about to jump out of bed when he remembered that he was on a night shift at the station. He rarely, if ever, slept late and assumed it was down to the sleeping tablets Maggie had offered him, although he had no recollection of having taken them. He shaved and got dressed, then went down to the kitchen to make himself some breakfast. He was concerned to find the back door wide open, so closed and locked it. He made himself some fresh coffee and scrambled eggs and was about to put a slice of toast into the toaster when he saw the blackened piece left inside.

  It was almost 11.30 a.m. when he went up to his home office, feeling energised. As he had some time, he thought he would do a bit of work on the Ridley investigation. He googled the top accountancy firms and scrolled through the results until he found the one Sandra Raynor had put on her CV. It was a big firm with an annual turnover of over a billion pounds. Their London headquarters were Cannon Street, but they also had offices in Brussels, Madrid, Paris and New York, employing over a thousand staff.

  Jack was about to put in a call to the London office, but then changed his mind. Instead, he removed his t-shirt and joggers, putting on a fresh shirt and tie, and his good suit.

  *

  If Jack had been impressed by the company website, he was even more impressed as he approached the building after parking his car. The towering glass office block rose up between two older, less impressive, buildings, dwarfing them. The vast reception doors had polished gold handles and opened automatically as he approached. The reception was almost the size of an airport check-in area, with marble floors and huge sculptures. Three women sat behind a long, glass-topped reception desk and a gleaming corridor lead to polished steel elevators.

  ‘Good morning,’ Jack said pleasantly.

  The receptionist he spoke to looked Chinese, her gleaming hair brushed back from her face and caught in an elegant comb.

  ‘I’m here to meet Ms Debra Smith.’

  ‘Which company does she work for?’

  ‘I’m not exactly sure, but I do know she’s employed here. It’s rather an urgent matter. Do you want to see my ID?’

  Jack put his briefcase down and took out his ID, flipping it open and closed very quickly.

  ‘Detective Mathews,’ he said.

  Her face expressionless, she tapped on her keyboard with long pink varnished fingernails then reached for her phone.

  ‘Ms Smith is on the executive floor. Please wait one moment.’ She spoke into the handset.

  ‘I have a Detective Mathews here for Ms Smith. It seems to be an urgent matter.’

  After listening for a moment, she replaced the handset.

  ‘If you go up to the sixth floor, someone will be waiting for you.’

  Jack gave her a wide smile before walking towards the mirror-like elevators.

  The elevator moved so fast that it made Jack gasp. He then stepped out into a vast carpeted corridor with floor-to-ceiling glass windows at one end. An office with double doors opened and a young man in an immaculate suit looked towards him.

  ‘Detective Mathews?’

  Jack nodded as the young man eased one of the doors wider with an outstretched arm. Jack walked past him into another wide corridor and paused for him to overtake.

  ‘Ms Smith is taking a call but will be with you shortly. This way please.’

  Jack was ushered into an enormous boardroom with a highly polished oak table with gilt legs that was twice the size of the station’s boardroom table. Placed around the table were expensive-looking chrome and leather chairs and in the centre of the table were leather pots of pencils, a pile of note pads, and a state-of-the-art conference call set.

  Against one wall was a long cabinet with trays of white china mugs, silver flasks, and trays of biscuits, as well as a small glass-fronted fridge that was filled with milk, fruit juice and cans of soft drinks.

  ‘Please help yourself. Ms Smith will be with you directly.’

  As the door was closed Jack pulled out a chair, laying his briefcase on the table and taking out a file. He leaned across and took a few pencils and a notebook. After five minutes he stood up and helped himself to a coffee and two biscuits. A further five minutes later, as he was finishing the coffee, the door opened.

  Debra Smith looked to be in her mid-fifties. She wore a grey suit over a white blouse and her well-cut wavy hair was iron -grey. With very little makeup, she had a very steely presence.

  ‘Thank you for seeing me, Ms Smith. I’ll try not to take up too much of your time.’

  She moved closer and nodded.

  ‘You say you are a detective; can I see your credentials please?’

  Jack smiled and took out his ID, holding it up for a moment. Debra Smith was about to take it from him when he quickly put it back into his pocket.

  ‘I’m hoping you’ll be able to help me with a sensitive situation.’

  Smith frowned and sat down on the opposite side of the table.

  ‘I was advised to talk to you by Eva Shay, whom I believe you have recently spoken with.’

  ‘That is correct.’

  ‘She asked you a question regarding a woman called Sandra Raynor, about whether or not she was employed here.’

  ‘Yes, that’s correct. As I told Ms Shay, to my knowledge we have never employed anyone by that name. Coincidentally, my assistant also received a query regarding the same woman from an officer in the Essex police, I believe. I’ve been here for more than 30 years and Sandra Raynor wasn’t an employee during that time, so if you are here to ask me the same question, it is a waste of your time, as well as mine.’

  Jack nodded affably. ‘I would like you to look at this photograph please.’