And that’s when she saw him.
Bold as brass, maybe a hundred yards further up the bank, heading straight towards them, his khaki-coloured coat billowing in the wind and the satchel strapped to his back.
Kate froze, grabbing Freeborn’s arm. ‘Pretend we’re talking about something,’ she whispered as loud as she dared. ‘Act casual, and whatever you do: do not look around.’
Freeborn’s eyes widened as he continued to look away from where Kate was staring in her periphery.
‘What do you want to talk about?’ Freeborn asked out of the corner of his mouth.
Kate lowered the volume of her radio, willing Jackson to move closer so they could intercept him unawares. If they gave him any reason to suspect, she knew he would run.
The wind continued to blow ferociously around them, but it was like he was moving in slow motion; Kate feeling every single second of the wait for him to get close enough for them to spring into action. She didn’t dare message the others to confirm his sighting, in case he overheard and panicked.
‘Just a little closer,’ she whispered under her breath. And then she set off, striding down the footbridge, and marching straight towards him. He smiled affably as he made to move past her, but as he passed by her, she grabbed his arm, yanking it behind his back, pushing her foot into the back of his knees, sending him hurtling to the muddy bank.
‘Hey, what the…?’ he managed to stammer, before Kate wrapped the cuff tightly around his wrist.
‘Christopher Jackson, I am arresting you on suspicion of the murders of Maria Alexandrou and Petr Nowakowski. You do not have to say anything, but it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioned something which you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence. Do you understand?’
‘Murder? What the hell are you talking about? Who are you?’
But Kate wasn’t listening. Securing his second wrist, she hoisted him to his feet, and waited for Freeborn to grip the other arm, before they triumphantly marched their suspect back along the river bank.
45
Tapping her hands against the steering wheel as she drove back to the station, Kate’s mind was already racing with the actions the team would now need to take to ensure they had the evidence required to charge Chris Jackson.
He certainly hadn’t been expecting to be apprehended; that much was clear from his reaction when she’d grabbed his arm and sent him crashing to the ground. As they’d walked him back towards the waiting transport van, he had threatened to sue for wrongful arrest, until she’d reminded him that it was safer to remain silent until seeking legal advice. He hadn’t uttered a word after that: was that a sign of a guilty conscience, or was he just being shrewd?
The tyres whooshed through the piles of slush gathering at every kerb side and Kate needed the car’s heater firing at the windscreen to keep it from fogging up. She desperately wanted to sit in on the interview, to watch Jackson crack, and to be there when he finally answered the most pressing question: where is Daisy? But the next few hours needed someone headstrong to coordinate, and both Laura and Patel were experienced enough to deliver what was needed.
Kate was eager to call for the search of his home as soon as she was back at the office, but she didn’t want to send the team in without direction. They needed to be efficient here, and target specific items: phones, computers, tablets, and any kind of cutting apparatus he could have used to sever the arteries to the heart so Ben could run a comparison. The receipt for the handheld power saw discovered at the school would be ideal, but unlikely. But they needed to know exactly what had been going on first: how and why he chose his victims, where he’d held them. Most importantly of all, they needed to know if he had Daisy, and where she was. Or, if they were already too late.
The Emersons would need to be notified that someone had been arrested in connection with Daisy’s disappearance, but Kate hoped to delay that conversation until they had formally charged Jackson and knew where she was.
The supe would want to be updated as well, but again, he had enough on his plate, so she would defer telling him until the raid on the premises was underway.
‘When it’s time, I want you to let Patel lead the interview,’ Kate said, as she indicated at the roundabout. ‘He is calm and methodical, but you’re great at reading body language. I want you to watch him like a hawk. You know the kind of tells we’re after. Then once the first round of questions are complete and we move to disclosure of our evidence, return to those sensitive areas and press again. And again. We want it all on record so it can be used in court if necessary. But – and I can’t stress this enough, Laura – make sure you do everything by the book. I don’t want this bastard slipping through our fingers on a technicality.’
‘Oh, don’t worry, ma’am, we’ve got him. Nobody is going to let him get away with this, least of all me.’
Kate’s fingers continued to dance on the wheel. Today was a good day.
* * *
‘This is where the hard work really starts,’ Kate reminded the team as they stood around the picture of Jackson, slapping each other on the back and exchanging congratulations. ‘I know you’re all eager to get on, so we’ll keep this brief. Laura and Patel will be busy interviewing Mr Jackson, when he finally stops gassing to his solicitor – always a good sign when they’re paranoid enough to have a solicitor on call at short notice. Anyway, I want Humberidge running things at the property. Work with SSD to secure any blood, hair and tissue samples. Bag up all electronic devices, address books, maps, and also check the garden for any recent disruption. I know the cold weather won’t make it easy, but this is vital.’
Humberidge nodded at her.
‘We secured his van at Mottisfont this morning and SSD have promised to rush through the processing of both vehicles. He’s in custody now, so we have twenty-four hours to secure what we need to charge him. The clock is ticking, people. Let’s make every second count.’
The crowd dispersed and Kate was about to stop by the supe’s office when her desk phone burst to life. She answered it to hear the familiar voice of the front desk constable. Her heart skipped at the prospect of another the package.
‘I have a Barry Emerson in reception, ma’am, asking to speak to you urgently.’
‘Tell him—’
‘He says he wants to make a complaint about one of your team, and that if you won’t come and speak to him he wants me to call Detective Superintendent Williams.’
Kate rolled her eyes, this had to be about Humberidge speaking with his mistress and Kate really didn’t need the supe being dragged into things right now.
She sighed. ‘Tell him I’m on my way down and stick him in one of the soft interview suites.’
* * *
‘And if your team had spent more time looking for my daughter instead of snooping around in my private life, then maybe she would be home already,’ Barry Emerson shouted.
He’d been laying it on thick since she’d stepped into the room ten minutes ago.
‘You have to understand, Mr Emerson,’ Kate tried again, before he cut her off for the third time.
‘Twelve days she’s been missing! Twelve bloody days! And you still haven’t a clue what happened to her or where she is.’
‘I assure you, Mr Emerson, we are doing everything—’