‘My husband’s staying at work tonight,’ she told Carter. ‘He sometimes does when he has a lot on. He’s got a camp bed there and a telly. He won’t mind for one night and then I can concentrate on Jackson.’
Carter nodded. ‘We’ll leave you and Jeanie to settle Jackson in and Jeanie will take your statement as well.’
‘I thought I’d done that already.’
‘We need it written down if you don’t mind, Tracy.’ Carter called Jeanie outside the front door to speak with her.
‘You think this is linked to Emily Styles’ death?’
‘My gut instinct says it. She even phoned the helpline. Maybe someone didn’t want her to talk. Yeah. I think we have to assume it until we know otherwise. If she turns out to have nipped out to buy an Elastoplast after cutting herself then I’ll be pleased as punch but somehow it’s all a bit wrong. If Hawk has her, Emily was held over a period of months. That means that if it is our man, we have time to find her.’
Carter left Jeanie to go back inside and Ebony came out and closed the door behind her.
Her breath came out in a white cloud as their feet crunched across the frozen pavement. It was five p.m.
Ebony paused by the car and looked across the car roof at Carter. She could see by his face that he’d had enough of Tracy’s house. He was a doer rather than a thinker. He’d only stayed long enough to know what action should come next. There was another reason he had had enough of Tracy’s home. Ebony understood it. He pulled hard on the frozen handle, wrenched open the door. Once inside, he leant over to push Ebony’s door open from the inside.
Ebony kept silent for a few minutes, busying herself with pulling on her seat belt and getting out her notebook. Jeanie had the effect of making Carter unsettled, claustrophobic. Ebony waited for him to relax again.
Carter switched on the engine. He sat thinking whilst it warmed up and de-misted the windscreen. Ebony began writing up the last few minutes of their time in Tracy’s flat and recorded the actual time of leaving. She wrote: DI Jeanie Vincent to begin questioning the victim’s son, Jackson. Returning to Fletcher House with samples of clothing. Includes bloodstained child’s pyjamas.
When she’d finished, Carter flicked off the light switch.
‘What do you think, Ebb?’
She looked back at the house. The security light above the door was still on.
‘I think that if she doesn’t show up in the next twenty-four hours, Guv, then Tracy’s and Jackson’s lives are never going to be the same.’
He sighed. ‘Yeah. Twenty-four hours and then we’ll know for sure. This is what we asked for, Ebb. We were supposed to flush him out when we revealed her identity.’ Carter put the car into gear and pulled away. ‘Not make him do it again.’
Chapter 16
After Jeanie had finished taking Tracy’s statement she packed it away in her bag and took out some things she’d brought especially for Jackson’s interview. She laid out paper and crayons onto Tracy’s kitchen table. She placed a bag on the table.
Jackson was watching the children’s programmes on television in the lounge.
‘Do you think Jackson saw what happened?’ asked Tracy. She sighed; suddenly she looked exhausted.
‘I don’t know; but the quicker we question him about the event the more chance we have of getting all the small details. I’d like to make a start now if that’s okay? I would like to establish who was in the flat at the time his mum left. Can you start with drawing me a rough plan of Danielle’s flat? It’s mainly for me to use.’
‘I’ll try.’
‘The main thing is that you put in the things you think Jackson will remember in his flat – anything distinctive that you think he’ll relate to, like where the telly is, what colour his front door is, that kind of thing.’
Tracy nodded. She sat at the table and sketched an outline of the flat, then handed it to Jeanie.
‘It’s pretty good. You have a good memory for detail.’ Jeanie smiled. ‘Okay, you ready?’
Tracy nodded. ‘I’ll get Jackson.’ She went into the lounge to fetch him.
‘Sit on Nanny’s lap, Jackson,’ Tracy said as she led him to the table and helped him climb up.
‘Jackson. Shall we do some drawing?’
He looked interested when he saw the crayons.
‘Jackson?’ Jeanie got his attention. ‘Shall we draw your house? Tell me about your house.’
Jackson began drawing a front door and a window next to it.
‘What colour is your front door, Jackson? Choose a crayon that colour.’
‘Pink.’ Jackson was colouring, concentrating with his tongue sticking out. He coloured inside the lines of the door he’d drawn.
‘How many bedrooms are there, Jackson?’
‘Mummy’s room and Jackson’s.’
‘How many is that?’
He held up a thumb and finger. ‘Two.’
‘What’s Jackson’s room like? Can you draw it?’ Jeanie gave him a new piece of paper.
Jackson chose a blue and a yellow crayon. ‘Fireman Sam bed.’ He scribbled slashes of blue and yellow.
‘Anything else?’ Jeanie was writing notes. He slowly shook his head. ‘What about Mummy’s room?’
‘Photos of Jackson and Mummy in the park.’
‘Are there? Did you have a nice time?’
Jackson nodded. ‘We give bread to the ducks.’
Jeanie looked around the room. Jackson did the same. ‘Whose house is this, Jackson?’
He answered: ‘Nanny’s house.’
‘Yes that’s right, this is where Nanny lives, isn’t it? Can you draw Nanny for me?’ She gave him a fresh piece of paper.
Jackson drew a round head and inside he drew eyes.
‘What a clever boy. What about Nanny’s hair, Jackson?’ He chose a yellow crayon and scribbled a yellow streak on the top of the circle. Jeanie smiled at him. ‘I can see Nanny’s arms and legs and she’s got eyes. Lovely blonde hair. Can you draw Mummy and Jackson?’ Jackson drew a small face with legs and the tallest figure with long dark hair. ‘Is that Mummy?’ He nodded.
‘When you saw Mummy last, what was she doing, Jackson?’
Jackson’s eyes moved around as he thought hard. He began moving his head from side to side.
‘Was Mummy happy? Did she have a happy face, Jackson?’ He continued shaking his head.
‘Mummy said Leave me alone.’
‘Was Mummy cross?’ He nodded. Where were you standing then, Jackson?’ Jeanie had the plan that Tracy had drawn in her hands. ‘Were you in the kitchen?’ He shook his head. ‘Were you standing next to anything, Jackson?’
‘My buggy fell bang on the floor.’
Tracy had drawn the buggy resting against the wall in the hallway.
‘Were you standing next to your buggy when it fell over?’
He nodded.
‘Did Mummy say anything to you, Jackson?’
He looked at Tracy as he answered. ‘Mummy said go back in your bedroom.’
‘Was there anyone else in Jackson’s house?’ He nodded again.
‘Jackson, how many other people were in the flat with you and Mummy and Scruffy?’
Jeanie pulled out some puppets from the bag. The first one was a woman. ‘Was there someone like this? A lady there in the flat?’ He thought hard and shook his head. ‘A man?’ asked Jeanie as she pulled a male puppet from the bag. Jackson nodded his head. He was concentrating hard. ‘Show me how you can count, Jackson. Where are your fingers?’ Tracy smiled encouragement. Jackson lifted both his hands in the air. ‘How many fingers have you got on your hand, Jackson?’
Tracy touched each finger as he counted them. ‘One, two, three, four, five.’