Sam Page, Professor of Psychology at University College, London, Fellow of the British Psychological Society, and highly respected author of over 600 scientific papers found himself totally at a loss.
Laura had said she was missing something, and now he knew exactly what she meant.
He was also pretty sure that it would be up to him to find out what that something was. With a grunt of annoyance, he went back to his studies.
*
Jackman and Marie tried hard to appear calm, but the interview room almost crackled with nervous tension.
‘I woke up very early, around four, and found myself thinking back to the night that woman went missing.’
Jackman knew they shouldn’t hurry Alan, but he desperately wanted him to get to the point.
‘I remember walking along the towpath worrying about my dog. If I were to die, I mean. I knew my wife would look after him, but I do all the walking, and he needs his walks.’ He paused. ‘That was when I realised I wasn’t alone.’
‘The man with the ponytail and another man,’ Marie prompted.
‘Yes, and then I remembered what one of them said — well, some of it anyway.’
Jackman leaned forward.
‘I heard him mention a name. Not a person’s name . . .’
Jackman stifled a curse.
‘It was a place name. Amsterdam.’
Jackman straightened in his chair. He felt Marie tense beside him. ‘What about Amsterdam?’
‘One of them said, “And we must still go to Amsterdam.” Then the other seemed to remonstrate with him, hence the heated conversation. That was when I decided to slope off.’ He looked at them apologetically. ‘I’m sorry it’s no more than that, but I suppose it might help?’
Jackman wasn’t sure if help was the right word, but it certainly pointed in a very definite direction. The five friends were going to Amsterdam.
‘I’m sure I didn’t dream it,’ Alan went on. ‘Does it mean anything to you?’
‘Thank you, Alan. We can’t say anything at this time, as I’m sure you will understand, but you have certainly helped us narrow down the field.’
After Alan Pitt left, Jackman and Marie sat on in the interview room, each worrying over what they had just heard.
‘What do we do now?’ Marie asked.
Jackman looked hard at her. ‘Do what we should have done a long time ago. Stop trying to be kind, and interview Carter.’
*
‘His phone is not picking up, sir.’ Marie stared at her own phone for a moment before ending the failed call. ‘Maybe he’s working on the boat.’
‘Is there a signal out there?’ asked Jackman.
‘Fairly good one, considering where it is.’ She looked at him anxiously. ‘Shall I go and look for him?’
Jackman shook his head. ‘Now I think about it, maybe tomorrow will be better. It will give me time to work out what to ask him, instead of wading in, all guns blazing. We’ll talk to him first thing in the morning.’
Marie had to make do with that, although she was very worried about Carter being out of contact. She returned to her desk and began, yet again, to go over the sequence of events.
‘Robbie, got a moment?’
‘Sure, what’s the problem?’
‘You know more than me about what happens in an abusive relationship. We know that Tom Holland left the marital home to stay with Ray, but if Suzanne had contacted him, would he have gone back, even after he had made the break?’
‘Like a shot, Sarge. I can’t tell you how many times my friend went running back when she called him. It was horrible. From the outside you could see exactly what she was doing, but all he could say was, “She’s sorry for what she’s done. She swears it will never happen again.”
‘But it did.’
‘Every time. And it got worse.’
‘Why do they go back?’ Marie could not get her head around it.
Robbie leaned against her desk. ‘It’s like Stockholm Syndrome. The victim identifies with the aggressor and even goes so far as to defend her behaviour.’ He shrugged. ‘My mate was totally controlled by his girlfriend.’
‘So, even though Tom was supposedly out of the picture when Suzanne went missing, in fact she could have called him, and he’d have gone back.’
‘I would swear that if she said she wanted to talk, said she missed him, she loved him and all that, he would have gone.’
‘But he never talked to Carter about his problems,’ she mused. ‘I find that odd.’
‘Shame, guilt — and would you confide in a copper?’
‘I would confide in Carter. I mean, they were so close, more like brothers.’ She thought for a moment. ‘So why ring Ray?’
‘Because Carter was working a case. Tom couldn’t have gone to him. Something about being on obo, I think. He just wasn’t there.’
Marie didn’t like what was going through her mind. She would have to check it out. Where exactly was Carter when Tom ran away from home? There would be an incident log of whatever case he was on, and it would also be in his detective’s diary. He would have to hand it over if requested, but she wondered if she could look at it without his knowing. Even if she couldn’t, Jackman might be able to check what cases were running at the time. ‘Thanks, Rob, and by the way, what happened to your friend?’
‘He died of an overdose.’
‘Oh my God! I’m so sorry.’ Marie felt terrible. ‘I didn’t mean to pry.’
‘It was ten years ago now, Sarge. It was recorded as an accidental death, but she killed him alright. Slowly. Until he couldn’t take any more.’ He looked at her intently. ‘If you ever come across one of these women, Marie, don’t be fooled. They don’t want help — they don’t think they need it. Abusive personality types are bullies, narcissists and psychopaths. Believe me, I know.’
‘And Suzanne fitted that definition?’
‘Read Harvey Cash’s statement. There’s little doubt.’
Marie thanked Robbie and went off to find Jackman.
She told him what Robbie had said to her. Jackman said, ‘I know exactly what case Carter was on, and so do you. At the time, he was with the drug squad on the Heron Bank job.’
Marie threw up her hands, ‘Of course! The big cocaine haul from that fishing boat!’
‘Carter worked mainly with DC Rusty Gates on that. It did entail hours of surveillance.’ Jackman pursed his lips. ‘I could get hold of Rusty. He’s working as a civilian now out of Peterborough. His diary could tell us where Carter was.’
‘I hate to be doing this, sir. I really just want to be sure in my own mind that Carter is telling the truth. In my heart, I don’t believe for one minute that Carter is lying, but . . .’ Marie sighed deeply.
Jackman’s voice was full of compassion. ‘I know, Marie. This is hell for you, isn’t it?’
‘It isn’t good, sir.’ She swallowed. ‘God, I know he’s been a chancer and at times he’s bent the rules out of all recognition, but he’s always been on the right side, if you know what I mean. He’s made some staggering arrests and cleaned some serious shit off our streets. He’s not bad, he’s just . . .’
Jackman gave her a rueful smile. ‘He’s just unconventional. Sadly, that does not always go down well with our senior officers, or the hierarchy that we now have to operate under.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘It’s getting late. Get off home, Marie. We’ll tackle this in the morning, okay?’
Marie decided that for once, she wasn’t going to argue.