There was an objection from the duty solicitor. Luke had refused the presence of his father, and Chloe didn’t blame him. He’d been better there alone than with either of their parents.
DSB: You were angry with Emily, weren’t you, Luke? Angry that she was ending the relationship. Angry that she wouldn’t give you a reason for it.
LG: No, it wasn’t like that. I wasn’t angry. I was upset.
DSB: So upset that you went back to the house and you argued with her. She said something and you snapped. What happened, Luke? Was it an accident?
LG: I didn’t touch her. I didn’t do it. For God’s sake, please, I didn’t kill Emily; I loved her.
Chloe leaned forward and paused the recording. She closed the file hurriedly. She couldn’t listen any more. Her brother’s voice filling the room, panicked and desperate, was like having his ghost there beside her, and though she had always been haunted by what had happened to him, the words spoken on the recording were more painful than she could ever have imagined.
She didn’t want to question him. She didn’t want to doubt.
She couldn’t listen any more, not while she still wanted to believe.
Chapter Fifty-Four
After speaking with Martin Beckett, Alex contacted the register office at Caerphilly Council, telling them she would be there within the hour. Her main focus now was finding out what ex-boyfriends or husbands might have been lurking in Julia Edwards’s past. The rest of the team had been given the priority of trying to find Christian Cooper and Joseph Black. The plan was for officers to speak again with the remaining support group members to see what they could remember about either man. Lola Evans and Sarah Taylor had known their killer well enough to have trusted lifts from him. Presumably, others from the support group would also have got close to him; close enough that they may have known relevant details about the man’s life.
Before Alex left the station, Dan tracked her down in the corridor.
‘Christian Cooper,’ he said. ‘We’ve found him. He works in the cinema at Nantgarw – he keeps off social media because of his anxiety. Bullied at school, history of self-harm.’
‘How did you find him?’
‘Sean Pugh remembered seeing him at the cinema once, a few months back.’
‘Alibi?’
‘He was at his aunt’s fiftieth birthday party on the Saturday Lola went missing. There were seventy-odd other people there. He’s not short of witnesses.’
Alex nodded. ‘It’s narrowed it down. What have we found out about Joseph Black?’
Dan exhaled loudly. ‘Not a lot, I’m afraid. No record of him on Niche. Physical description is pretty general – could describe forty per cent of the male population. Rachel Jones seems pretty sure of one thing though: he drives a van.’
Alex’s eyes widened. ‘Right. OK. Get on to the DVLA, see if we can trace a vehicle registered to Joseph Black. I’m going to the council offices in Caerphilly – I shouldn’t be too long. Call me if there’s any news.’
When Alex arrived at the council offices early that afternoon they were obviously expecting her. She had given them Julia Edwards’s details over the phone and was hoping for a result that might reveal an ex-husband on the scene.
The words of Chloe’s email echoed in her head.
Who has harmed him?
Martin Beckett’s views on whether or not Julia Edwards might have been selling sexual favours to men other than his father had been vague, but there was no denying the insinuation that had been present. Had Julia angered a former husband or lover? Had one of her clients held a grudge against her for some reason?
Had someone else contributed to her death?
Alex pulled into a parking space at the council office car park and turned off the engine. The direction her thoughts were taking her didn’t make sense. Why would someone connected with Julia Edwards all those years ago be victimising young women now? Julia had died years ago; if someone had meant her harm but hadn’t killed her, surely her death had spared them from taking matters into their own hands?
Yet it was clear that whoever had tortured and killed Lola Evans and Sarah Taylor was connected with the pub in some way. It was too much of a coincidence that the place would have been chosen at random. Though it was remote and derelict, South Wales had its fair share of such places. There had to be a reason for its relevance, and Alex was determined to find out what it was.
She entered the council building and went to the reception. The woman there pointed her in the direction of the register office, which was tucked in the far corner of the ground floor of the building.
‘DI King? I’m Diane. We spoke on the phone earlier.’
A woman about Alex’s age stood from the department’s front desk and reached out a hand to greet her before leading her through to the office. There was a young man there; Diane asked him to go and get them tea, presumably as an excuse to give them some privacy.
‘I’ve found the lady you’re looking for,’ Diane told her, gesturing to a seat. Alex sat beside her and looked at the computer screen as the woman pulled up her search results. ‘Julia Edwards. Death registered as the fourth of April 2002. Accidental drowning while under the influence.’
‘That’s her. Any record of any marriages?’
Diane shook her head. Alex felt her heart sink. She had been so hopeful that today might be the day they found their concrete lead, something substantial that would lead them to their killer before he had an opportunity to identify a next victim. ‘There’s a son though,’ Diane said, switching between the opened windows on the database.
Alex’s reaction made it obvious she’d known nothing of a son. There had been no mention of a child living at the pub when Julia had died. There had been no mention of him at any time during the investigation.
‘Adam Edwards. Born thirteenth of November 1987.’
Alex stared at the details on the screen, trying to keep her expression impassive. ‘Could you print this off for me, please?’
Diane nodded and set about the task. When she got up from her seat and went to the printer at the far side of the room, Alex moved closer to the computer screen, her mind racing as she absorbed the details. Adam Edwards was fourteen when his mother died. Where had he been at the time? He couldn’t have been living at the pub with her: Martin Beckett would surely have made mention of him and none of the reports relating to Julia’s death made any reference to any children.
Where had he been? Why hadn’t he been with his mother?
Chapter Fifty-Five