‘How long ago was this, Mrs Watkins?’
She turned back and looked at Kate, her face white as a sheet. ‘Just before Christmas the year before last. I was already considering putting the house on the market, and that was the final straw. It’s none of my business what people practise in private, but I couldn’t forget the look of terror in the girl’s eyes when I walked in on them.’
Kate helped Imelda back to the wicker chair. ‘What were things like between the two of you afterwards?’
‘I didn’t really see him much after that. He’s been at the school on a couple of occasions as I’ve been passing through, but I don’t think we’ve spoken.’
‘Would you say there’s animosity?’
‘He certainly hasn’t gone out of his way to say hello, and I’ve been too embarrassed.’
‘There was no sign of forced entry at number forty-eight. Is it possible that Jackson still has a key?’
‘I wouldn’t have said so, but now that you say what’s gone on in there, I suppose he could. I never changed the locks when he moved out, so maybe it’s possible he had a spare key cut before moving out. I really can’t say for sure.’
‘We believe the victim was a man named Petr Nowakowski. Does that name ring a bell with you?’
Imelda reached for the water again. ‘I don’t think so.’
‘Did you ever see Jackson with any male friends at the house?’
‘No, the only person I ever saw him with was that girl.’
Was it possible that the girl Imelda had stumbled in on was Maria Alexandrou? Had Jackson paid her to indulge his sexual fantasies? It still didn’t explain how or why he’d chosen to mutilate her at the school. But if he knew number forty-eight was vacant and still had access, he wouldn’t have expected to be disturbed… until Daisy.
‘Would you be willing to make a formal statement about what you saw?’ Kate pressed.
‘If you think that would help?’
Kate stood. ‘Would you like me to call anyone to be with you?’
‘My Neil will be back soon.’ She paused. ‘When will I be able to see the house?’
Kate’s heart went out to her. The mess could be cleaned: walls could be painted and carpets replaced, but it would forever be remembered as the house where Petr Nowakowski was carved up. Over time the names of the victim and perpetrator would be forgotten, but the act was now embedded in folklore. Mrs Watkins would be lucky to receive half the value of the property after this.
‘We’ll keep you informed. I’ll send one of my team around to take that statement from you.’
Kate thanked Imelda, leaving her in the conservatory, and showed herself to the door, keen to get back to the station and secure Jackson’s confession and find out where he was holding Daisy.
48
Passing through the security barrier back at the station, Kate was anxious to get into the incident room and find out what progress Humberidge and the search team had made. But as she parked in her regular space beneath the building and got out of the car, the sound of Quinlan’s raised voice caught her attention. Looking around to see where the noise was coming from, she soon realised Quinlan was on foot, heading out of the station directly above her. Ordinarily she would have given him his privacy, but it was what he was saying that piqued her curiosity.
‘I told you before to stop calling. I’ll get you the money. I’ll come now.’
Remembering the conversation she’d overheard yesterday, she wondered if he’d been running up gambling debts – or worse, a drug habit. She’d seen too many officers too proud to ask for help who’d lost everything. She knew only too well how thin the line was between right and wrong.
Rather than allowing him to slip away, Kate followed the car ramp back up to the ground level where she saw Quinlan nervously making his way from the building, across the road towards the train station, the mobile phone glued to his ear. He was at least a hundred metres ahead of her, which meant she could no longer hear the conversation, but the way he kept glancing about to check he wasn’t being followed set alarm bells ringing in her head. He had to be going to meet whoever was causing him so much distress. If ever Kate had a chance to help him, this was it.
Proceeding along the pavement on the opposite side of the road, Kate kept him just in sight as she followed. As he reached the car park on the south side of the train station, she saw him duck inside and had to dart between the oncoming vehicles to cross the road and keep eyes on him. She lost him. Had he spotted her tailing him and double-backed? She was certain he couldn’t have seen her. She looked around, then spotted him at the opposite side of the building, near where the buses dropped passengers.
His back was to her, but he seemed to be staring down and talking to someone seated on a bench. Kate couldn’t see who, without getting closer.
She paused for a moment. Was this really the right approach to take? She’d already reached out to Quinlan and he’d rejected her support. Would he thank her for confronting him, or push her further away?
Quinlan suddenly took a step back, and Kate caught her breath as she finally saw who was on the bench and the jigsaw pieces slotted into place. She now had no choice but to intercept.
It was Tara who spotted Kate first, her eyes widening. ‘Kate? What are…?’
Quinlan spun round as soon as he heard Kate’s name, the shock on his face almost comical.
She spoke before either of them had a chance to. ‘Olly’s the father?’
Quinlan’s face dropped and he collapsed down onto the bench next to Tara, burying his face in his hands as his secret was exposed. He clearly had no idea how to explain himself. Tara could only manage a slow nod before lowering her eyes.
So, that was why Tara hadn’t wanted to discuss the father with Kate, because she knew how Kate would react, him being a member of her team. She had to give it to her, Tara had done a pretty good job of coaxing Kate into protecting part of the secret and simultaneously manipulating Quinlan into paying to keep his involvement under wraps.
Kate wanted to bash their heads together for being so stupid and irresponsible, Quinlan especially, but she resisted. ‘Does this place have a café? I think we all need a quiet chat.’
* * *
The station café was quiet and warm, allowing them to find a small table and three chairs in a corner where they could talk discreetly.
Kate looked from one to the other. ‘Which one of you wants to tell me how this mess started? Olly?’
But Tara was the first to speak up. ‘It isn’t what you think.’
‘No? Tell me what I’m thinking, Tara.’
‘We’re not dating or anything. It was a one-time thing that unfortunately resulted in…’ her words trailed off, but her hands gestured towards her belly.
‘I don’t understand how the two of you even met,’ Kate said, frowning.
‘It was at your work’s Christmas party,’ Tara said, looking away. ‘I was supposed to be meeting some friends in town and Dad said he’d give me a lift as he had to make an appearance at your drinks do. I came in for a drink, and Dad was away talking to you I think, Kate, when Olly came and we started talking.’
‘I wouldn’t have gone near her, if I’d known she was the boss’s daughter, and she told me she was nineteen!’
Tara snorted. ‘As I recall, you didn’t seem all that interested in asking too many questions before inviting me back to your place…’
Kate stared at Quinlan. ‘And I take it this was the news you received on Friday night, and why you were hungover when you arrived at the office?’
‘I’m sorry, ma’am, it’s all come as a bit of a shock. I’m not ready to settle down, let alone be a father—’
‘I’m not asking you to be a father,’ Tara fired back.