Page 96 of Her Last Breath

‘I … well … she died last night.’

Jane breathed in, expecting the barrage of sympathy Dr Lydia was going to send her way. Although she should have known better.

‘Which is why you’re in work. I understand. Still, I am sorry, lovely. And when you would like to talk about it and process this, you will come to me, OK? You will stay with me for a week, two if you need, and I will feed you my very bad cooking.’

‘Thank you.’ It was the right response for Jane.

‘One last thing. There was no evidence of Hargreaves struggling or fighting back, just like the others.’

‘That’s odd. I would have expected something, especially if he was being brought to near-death and back repeatedly.’

‘It seems that he was at his killer’s mercy. Stomach contents show alcohol, but with his history of addiction, I suggest that is not so odd.’

‘I really need those tox screens, doctor. Please do what you can to rush them through. I need to know how Wilson was incapacitating his victims.’

‘I will do what I can and have direct control over. Toxicology is a realm I can only ask for help in, unfortunately.’

Jane stared at her screen until her eyes hurt after she ended the call with Dr Lydia. Why would Bill be so pliant as the life was being drained out of him? There had to be something in his system they hadn’t detected yet. All three victims must have been subdued in the same way, incapacitated so they could be played with. But only incapacitated to the point where Colin could manipulate them. He could still take pleasure in watching the look on their faces as they died, the light fading in their eyes.

Jane headed out of her office. Many questions still needed answering, but first there was something she needed to do.

Chapter 66

‘You’re not paid to snooze,’ Jane said, making the evidence room officer jump.

He woke with a start, looking embarrassed. Not in the mood to reprimand him, she instead asked to see the evidence collected during their investigation.

‘Can you give me the victims’ personal effects, please?’

Signing the necessary paperwork, Jane headed to the storage locker. She scanned her ID to show she was accessing the safe, disappointed by how little there was. There was a box for each of her victims. She opened the one marked for Alice first.

Inside, Alice’s clothes were damp and damaged, processed for evidence already. Jane was looking for something else though. After her mother had died, Jane had taken her wedding ring, looped it onto her chain. She could feel the light metal on her skin, her mother’s memories thrumming through her like her own heartbeat.

Rummaging through the possessions, Jane hoped she could give Emily something that might have the same meaning. Nothing that they would need as evidence, but something that would remind her of her mum.

There were a couple of cheap plastic hairclips and a silver-looking chain. It was delicate to the touch, fragile, but it had survived Alice’s ordeal. Wondering if it held any significance, Jane hoped it would remind a little girl of her mother.

She felt her hand brush against a plastic bag as she was repacking the box. It contained cash from Alice’s flat. Jane examined the notes, five twenties. Pawel Kowalcyzk would need them to check for Colin Wilson’s fingerprints.

As Jane scanned them, she noticed something odd. She double-checked to be sure, then opened the box with Mark’s personal items. Inside, she discovered his phone and a watch with an engraving on the back: To Mark, For Always.

There was cash in another plastic evidence bag. Jane checked the notes: they were new, the sort you’d get from an ATM or bank, not the tired notes that had already been in circulation.

Scanning the serial numbers, Jane identified that the notes were in sequence, following on directly from the notes in Alice’s box. Was Liam’s fancy man theory more real than she had imagined? Was Alice taking money from Mark?

Pocketing the silver chain for Emily, Jane took snapshots of the cash before she headed to the first floor, suddenly consumed by the need to understand what she had just discovered.

Chapter 67

Jane walked past closed doors, checking names and departments. At the end of the corridor she found what she was looking for, the Financial Investigation Department. The door was ajar and she could hear a radio playing naff eighties music. Duran Duran’s ‘Rio’ badly hummed to by a deep male voice.

She knocked to find a middle-aged man moving as much of his seated body as he could to the music. He didn’t miss a beat when he saw Jane, no embarrassment. He did turn the music blaring out of his workstation down a tad, however.

‘DI Jane Hacker,’ she said, holding her hand out. He shook it in a firm grip, deep-set brown eyes looking excited to see her.

‘DI Neil Baxter. Married with four teenage kids and a crafty father-in-law. I come here for respite on Sundays. Sorry, my manners … Take a seat, DI Hacker.’

Jane did so, smelling ketchup and bacon, looking around to see if he might have leftovers to share. He didn’t.