‘I don’t think anything,’ Alex interjected. ‘Not yet. Rachel, this is definitely the man you know as Joseph Black? He attended the support group?’
Rachel nodded, her eyes clouding with tears. ‘What do you mean “the man I know as”?’ She looked again at the face in the photograph. It might have been a different version, a younger version of the person she had known, but there was no doubting she knew the face that stared back at her.
‘What else can you tell me about him?’ Alex asked.
‘He used to come to the support group, a while back. Haven’t seen him since before Christmas. He looks different to this now, though. Much shorter hair. Older. Do you think he—’ She cut her own words short this time, hanging on to the unspoken implication of Alex’s interest in this man.
‘Is there anything else, Rachel? No matter how small it might seem, anything is helpful.’
Rachel was shaking her head, her tears now beginning to fall. ‘No one ever asks too much. But we trust each other – that’s why we go there. It’s supposed to be a safe place. Joseph was quiet. Nice. He was a good listener.’
Alex exhaled audibly. Quiet. Nice. Presumably the very things that had made him seem trustworthy to the young women whose lives he had gone on to end so brutally. ‘Go to Bristol,’ she said, putting a hand on Rachel’s arm. ‘Go today and I will keep in touch, I promise. This will all be over soon.’
She hoped to a God she was dubious about that this might be true. Her head was ringing.
They needed to make contact again with the other four women who’d been named on Tim Cole’s list of members. Each of them needed to know that if they saw Adam Edwards – Joseph Black – they were to contact police immediately.
Alex went back to the car where DC Mason was waiting.
‘She knows him, Dan.’
He gave her a questioning look.
‘Rachel knows Adam Edwards. He was part of the support group, only he called himself Joseph Black.’
‘Jesus Christ.’
Alex pulled her seatbelt across her shoulder. ‘We need to find him.’
She gripped the steering wheel as her mind raced three steps ahead of her. There was something about that police photograph of Adam Edwards that was bothering her, some familiarity she couldn’t allow to go overlooked. Lola. Sarah. The support group. Just how close to his victims had Adam been?
Close enough to have been to the strip club on what would turn out to be Lola’s last night there, Alex now realised. Close enough to have waited for her to finish work – for her to have been expecting him. Tall. Dark features. Quiet. Nice.
So close he’d been there all this time, hiding right in front of them.
Chapter Fifty-Six
The man who answered the door at the address the team had traced as Adam Edwards’s was in his early forties. He was wearing oil-stained trousers and a T-shirt that looked as though it had never been washed. The dog at his feet shared the same look.
‘Been working on the bike out the back,’ he said by way of explanation. He wiped the palm of his hands on his T-shirt and peered down at Alex’s ID.
‘We’re looking for Adam Edwards. Your name is?’
‘Simon Watts. What do you want Adam for?’
‘Is he home?’
The dog yapped at Alex’s feet, jumping up and leaving smeared paw prints on her trousers.
Simon shook his head. ‘Why do you want him?’
‘We’ll speak to Mr Edwards about that. Any idea where he is?’
The man’s eyes narrowed with curiosity. ‘Not seen him in about two weeks. He’s away on a job.’
‘Job? What sort of job?’
Simon shrugged. ‘Building work, I assume. He didn’t say much.’
Alex glanced past Simon and into the cluttered living room. The dog had decided to leave her side, instead turning its attention to what appeared to be a pile of dirty washing abandoned at the end of the sofa. ‘Can we come in?’
After a moment’s hesitation, Simon stepped aside and let them into the house. The front door led straight into the living room, which looked as though it was housing preparations for a car boot sale. There was mess everywhere: dirty clothes lying in a heap at the end of the sofa; piles of magazines stacked precariously against the fireplace; engine parts and tools beneath the window at the far end of the room. Another dog sprawled on the laminate flooring next to the sofa, its heavy breathing chesty and laboured like an old man’s.
‘Do you own the house, Mr Watts?’
Simon nodded.
‘And how long has Mr Edwards been living here?’
‘Year or so. I split up with my ex; she moved out; I needed the money so rented the spare room. Look, what do you want him about?’
‘How did you meet Mr Edwards?’
Simon Watts looked from one officer to the other, his mouth twisting into a cynical grimace. ‘Why all the questions?’
‘We’re looking for Mr Edwards as a matter of urgency, Mr Watts, so if you could please just answer our questions.’
‘He did some work here for me, on the electrics. A mate recommended him. Mentioned he was looking for somewhere to rent and not long after I had the room going. Has he done something?’
‘We’ll need the name and contact details of this mate,’ Alex told Simon.
‘Can we take a look in his room?’ Dan asked.
‘You got a warrant?’
‘No,’ Alex told him, ‘but it shouldn’t take us too long to get one.’ She gave the man an insincere smile.
He sighed. ‘Go on then. It’s the second door on the right.’
He followed them upstairs. On the landing, further clutter welcomed them. Alex expected much the same when she opened the door to Adam Edwards’s room, so the orderliness that greeted her was a surprise. The bed was made and obviously hadn’t been slept in the previous night. There was a TV mounted on the side wall and beneath it a chest of drawers. Alex pulled the top drawer open. Piles of T-shirts lay inside, all ironed and neatly folded. In the two drawers beneath it there were more clothes. Wherever Adam had gone, it looked as though he was planning to return.
‘He didn’t tell you where he was going?’ Alex asked, turning to Simon who was standing in the doorway watching them.
‘No.’
‘Where do you work, Mr Watts?’
The man’s expression had becoming increasingly hostile. It hardened once again now, as if he was about to be accused of something.
‘Cardiff Council. I do grounds maintenance round the parks.’
Alex straightened up and cast Dan a glance. ‘Do you have access to a council vehicle, Mr Watts?’
He nodded.
‘Has Adam ever borrowed a vehicle from you?’
Simon Watts shook his head. ‘They’re kept down in the unit. I drive down there start of the shift to pick one up, drop it back off at the end of the day.’ He studied Alex with curiosity. ‘What’s all this about?’
‘Does Mr Edwards own a vehicle?’
‘He’s got a van. Uses it for work.’
Alex shot Dan a second look. ‘Do you have a work ID? Something you need in order to gain access to the grounds?’
Simon Watts was looking increasingly concerned. ‘This is about that girl, isn’t it? The one they found in the river.’