The Fourth Friend (DI Jackman & DS Evans #3)(7)



‘I know.’ Gary shook his head. ‘Between the three of them, I’ve spent a small fortune in sponsorship money.’

‘You and me both. Carter was very persuasive, wasn’t he?’

‘He’s going to double whatever he receives.’ Gary stared into his glass. ‘I though DI Jackman was well off, but Carter is something else. He’s a very rich man, isn’t he?’

Marie grimaced. ‘In some ways. But even before the accident, he’d had a really tough life. No loving family, no siblings, just a cold, distant, workaholic father. His mother died when he was quite young. He was a very sad little boy.’ She looked at Gary. ‘My Bill was his best friend when he was in uniform. Another loss he’s suffered.’

‘He has something of a reputation, hasn’t he? Bit of a risk taker? Not much he wouldn’t do to bring the criminals to justice?’ Gary shrugged. ‘Whatever. I’ve not known him very long, but I like him.’

‘Me too, and I’ve known him for years. I just don’t like what is happening to him.’

‘I don’t think I could come back to work if something like that happened to me.’ Gary shuddered. ‘But he’s younger than me. I suppose work will help to ease the pain. You can only hope that as time passes, he will find a way to live with the terrible memories.’

Marie wanted to agree with Gary, but in her heart of hearts, she could only see Carter’s future as dark.

*

Jackman stared across the flat fields towards the marshes and the distant Wash. It was a beautiful summer evening and the setting sun was putting on one of its spectacular light shows. The darkening sky was shot through with bands of fiery orange and scarlet, and purple grey clouds gathered in great mountainous drifts. He never tired of the sunsets.

With a contented sigh, he walked to the door of his mill house and turned the key in the lock. He was hoping for an early night. He needed to make some kind of headway with the Suzanne Holland case, and he wouldn’t do that if he was overtired. He thought of the blood at her house, the body gone and no witnesses to what happened. His contentment disappeared.

He sat down at the kitchen table. On the top of a pile of manila files lay the forensic report, giving details of the blood spatter analysis. He was certain that this evidence in particular pointed to foul play, and not an accident, as had been suggested at the time. Although it had happened some eighteen months before, the case had never been closed. Now Superintendent Ruth Crooke had received a request from the ACC to bring it to a conclusion. It seemed that an online group had taken it up and were running with all kinds of weird speculation. It was now the subject of some considerable comment on the Internet. It had become known that the missing woman, Suzanne, had been the wife of Tom Holland, who had died in a light aircraft crash shortly after she went missing. People were suddenly calling for answers and demanding that the authorities do more. It was Jackman’s unhappy lot to take up the case again before it went viral.

Jackman heaved an irritated sigh and stared at the thick file in front of him. Bloody media! On top of all that, it seemed that Suzanne Holland might have led some sort of double life. She’d certainly had a chequered past. Every avenue the detectives explored produced more questions than answers.

Jackman closed the report and yawned loudly. He badly needed sleep. Suzanne Holland would have to wait until tomorrow.

His brain, however, had other ideas. At three in the morning, Jackman found himself pacing the bedroom floor. He hated investigations that had no structure. Was the woman dead? Had she wandered off after having some awful accident? Had she been abducted? Apparently she’d been something of a good-time girl but their investigations had unearthed no vengeful wife or jealous lover lurking in the shadows. She had been briefly married before, and her ex was now living a mostly intoxicated life as a holiday rep in Spain. Reading the old case files, Jackman found that no one had actually spoken to this man. He made a mental note to get someone to double check this first thing.

Jackman flopped back down on the bed.

Then there was another problem.

Marie was a positive, energetic person, but right now she looked eaten up with concern over McLean’s imminent return to full duties. Jackman trusted Marie’s judgement, and if she was worried, then he was worried too. Perhaps he should pull a few strings and keep Carter away from the Holland case. If Ruth Crooke had her way, Carter would stay behind a desk for all eternity. He had no idea why the two officers disliked each other so much, and did not intend to ask them. The feud had been running forever, and he really did not want to get involved.

For the first time in years they were fully staffed. CID had undergone a major overhaul over the past few months, but finally things seemed to be calming down. The Saltern-le-Fen detectives now worked together, allocating jobs to whoever had the smallest backlog on their desk. At last Jackman and Marie had several good officers to call on, and Ruth Crooke had told him to use whoever he needed.

His long-serving detectives, Max and Charlie, would work on the Holland disappearance, plus DC Robbie Melton, a new and very welcome transfer from a neighbouring division. Robbie’s previous partner had been seriously injured on duty and after she left, he had been lost, unable to settle back into his old job. The change of scenery had worked wonders for him. Robbie had developed a real affinity for Marie Evans, and she liked him. He was slightly built and often wore jeans and a hoodie, but he was actually well into his thirties, despite looking almost like a teenager. His forte was blending in on the streets. He prided himself on the fact that no one ever gave him a second glance. In fact, Robbie was a very astute and intelligent detective.

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