Kate nodded. ‘More than likely, and then maybe someone found out and that’s why they let him go. Can you follow up on that, Laura? Go down to the head office when they open and ask to see a copy of his job application.’ She turned back to Patel, as Laura answered a ringing phone. ‘Have the vehicle recognition team managed to track Chris Jackson yet?’
Patel nodded, firing up the nearest workstation. ‘Had an email overnight. Two seconds and I’ll read it to you.’
‘Ma’am,’ Laura interrupted. ‘That was a call from downstairs. Apparently someone decided to put a brick through the front window of Neil Watkins’ home last night.’
‘The gardener?’
Laura nodded. ‘They scrawled the word killer on his driveway and then hurled the rock, apparently. Uniform are on the scene now, but his mother Imelda is demanding to speak to you. Blames the news report about the foot and thinks her son is being targeted.’
That was all Kate needed. ‘But the Media Relations team have now confirmed that we aren’t focused on any one individual.’
‘I guess not everybody got the message. You want me to go down there and speak to her?’
Kate sighed. ‘No, ask uniform to pass on that I will stop by to visit her when I get a moment.’
Laura relayed the message over the phone.
‘Here you go,’ Patel said. ‘His van was seen leaving the teachers’ car park at St Bartholomew’s just after four last Friday... It is then picked up on the traffic camera at the north end of Hill Lane by the Winchester Road roundabout… It is then seen heading up the A35, from where it then joins the M3 at junction fourteen, but it is last seen at junction thirteen, before we lose track of it.’ He paused. ‘Junction thirteen is the exit for Eastleigh and Chandler’s Ford, but we don’t know where he goes after that. Given that his home address is in Lordshill, we know he wasn’t going home.’
‘So where was he going and where is he now?’
‘PC Barnes went by his residence yesterday morning, but there was no sign of his van. He called on a couple of his neighbours, but nobody could recall seeing him over the weekend. Jackson’s mobile phone is switched off, so we can’t monitor him via that, and I have put out a description of the van and its registration plates to our colleagues in Wiltshire and Dorset, but as yet no sightings.’
Kate turned to Laura. ‘What else can you tell me about Jackson?’
‘I managed to track a page for his engineering business on Facebook, but no personal page,’ Laura said. ‘My understanding is you can’t have one without the other, which suggests he has his privacy settings fixed so that he cannot be located by strangers.’
‘Okay, go with what you’ve got.’
Laura passed her the print outs. ‘The business page is pretty basic with its content: he doesn’t ever post on it, just contains basic company information, mobile phone number and email address.’
‘Have you found a photograph of him?’
‘Next page, ma’am,’ Laura said.
Kate pushed the business page to the back of the pile. The image was grainy, but his strawberry-blond curls were greased back over his head, and small dimples formed in his cheeks where he was forcing a smile. His eyes were dark, but she couldn’t tell if that was just the quality of the print out. He had to be in his mid-thirties at most, and his chin looked freshly shaven.
‘You reckon he still looks like this? How old is the image?’
‘Hard to say. I pulled it from his business website. I’ll check with the administrators at the school.’
Kate raised the picture. ‘What does that face say to you?’
‘Honestly? He’s actually quite handsome, in a goofy sort of way.’
‘Do you know what I see when I look at him? I see the face of someone I want to trust. He looks like butter wouldn’t melt, but I’ve underestimated people for less than that. We need to find him.’
‘Do you want me to put his description out to uniform?’
‘Please.’
‘His criminal history is clean. He has three points on his licence for speeding two years ago, but otherwise, he’s not in the system.’
Kate closed her eyes, trying to process their next steps. If this was a brand-new murder investigation the decisions made in the first hour – the golden hour – would pay dividends later on. But in this situation, Maria and Petr had been dead for days already, giving Jackson a head start. While not conclusive, she couldn’t shake the coincidence of the heart being sent in the type of box he would have access to as a photocopy engineer.
‘First things first: get his last known location from the mobile provider, and then get his image to the school and ask them how it compares to when they saw him on Thursday. When you’ve done that, take his description to the mail depot in Bitterne and see if the staff there recognise him as the guy who delivered the heart.’
36
Staring out at the one-bedroom maisonette, just off the main road through Shirley, Kate could see Imelda, brush in hand and bucket of soapy water at her feet, as she scrubbed at the red paint on the grimy brickwork. Parking up, Kate exited the car and hurried across the road.
Imelda welcomed the distraction, dropping the wire brush into the suds with a splosh. Despite the chill in the air, her cheeks were flushed. ‘I ought to charge you the cost of cleaning this mess up.’
‘Is Neil okay?’
Imelda wiped the hair from her eyes with the back of her hand. ‘He was so shaken when the brick came through the window. He kept asking me what he’d done wrong. I came around as soon as he called, and as I arrived I could see the curtain-twitchers across the road taking it all in.’
Kate stepped back and took in the wooden board now covering one of the windows. ‘Was there any damage caused inside?’
‘No, thankfully,’ Imelda sighed. ‘It was lucky he wasn’t looking out the window at the time, or walking past. God knows what could have happened then. Fortunately he was in bed in the back room.’
‘He lives alone?’
She nodded. ‘It’s not very big inside. A small front room with a couple of armchairs and a small dining table, then a bedroom at the rear, a small kitchen and a bathroom. But it’s enough, and I just want him to have as normal a life as possible. He needs structure and routine.’
‘I’m sorry to ask this, Mrs Watkins, but why do you think somebody targeted Neil?’
‘I’d have thought that was perfectly obvious.’
‘I saw the news report and I’ve read Zoe Denton’s article, and Neil isn’t mentioned in either.’
‘Maybe not, but she said the police were considering all associated with the school.’
‘I still don’t see why anyone would reach the conclusion that Neil would have anything to do with it.’
‘People are small-minded, detective. They see a grown man with learning difficulties and they leap to conclusions. I blame myself for putting him in that position. I thought that the role at the school would be good for him; giving him a level of trust he’s not experienced before. I thought with him there, I could keep an eye on him, and Mrs Kilpatrick understands that he needs protection, but now I wish I’d kept him safer.’
‘This isn’t your fault,’ Kate offered. ‘We will get a formal statement out clarifying matters, and warning people not to jump to wrong conclusions. In the meantime, is there anywhere else Neil can stay? With you perhaps?’
‘I’ve already packed some things for him and he’ll be at my place tonight.’
‘Whereabouts do you live, Mrs Watkins?’
‘North Baddesley. Do you know it?’
Kate nodded. ‘On the way to Romsey. It’s a very pleasant village.’
‘Yes, well, I don’t feel right him being here on his own while all this is going on. Do you know when your people will be finished at the school?’
Kate tightened her lips. ‘We’re working as quickly as we can.’
Mrs Watkins reached down for the brush again, slopping more suds onto the brickwork and scrubbing fiercely. ‘The sooner all of this is over, the better.’
‘Where’s Neil today? With the school closed, I thought he might be home?’
‘He loves the sound of the ocean,’ she replied, her eyes focused on the brickwork. ‘When he’s not working, he likes to drive to the coast and just sit and listen to the waves crashing.’
‘Bit cold to be at the beach today.’