‘How can it be your fault?’ Marlene said. ‘Of course it’s not your fault.’
‘Right,’ Rachel sighed. ‘I’ve got to go.’
‘Take care,’ Marlene said.
‘Yeah. Bye.’ Rachel walked swiftly to her car.
Whose fault was it then? Rosie’s mother, who’d destroyed her childhood and set the seal on her future? The doctors and social workers, who didn’t care for her enough? Raleigh, who had broken her body and with that her mind as well? But none of them were there that night, were they? Only Rachel. And if Rachel hadn’t gone first to the canal, then again to the flat, if she hadn’t pressed Rosie to talk about the rape, hadn’t pushed her for a name, if Rachel had let her be… then would she still be alive? Either off her face on drugs or slicing at her skin, building fires under the bridge, sleeping on the sofa in her charmed circle?
Rachel left, ignoring the speed limit, passing a cortège on its way in. The coffin surrounded by huge floral arrangements spelling out Mum and Nana. Some old woman then. A stream of vehicles following. Rachel didn’t look at the occupants, she’d had enough misery for one morning. She’d be a whole lot better once she was back at work and busy.
First thing Wednesday, Gill passed on the information about James Raleigh sleeping with his clients and other young and vulnerable women to the Director of Social Services for the city. She explained the police were not preferring charges, there was not enough evidence to do so, but Raleigh would remain a person of interest.
‘That’s his CRB status in shreds,’ she told the team. ‘He should be hearing later this morning that he is suspended, pending a disciplinary hearing, and he’ll have trouble getting a job washing cars when they are finished with him.’
Rachel still exuded resentment; Gill needed to talk to her about that. Not good for the work atmosphere, or the girl’s occupational health.
Gill had done a storyboard combining their timetable and the evidence to date. Stick figures with initials for the protagonists. She passed copies around to the team. A larger version was clipped to the flipchart.
‘Anyone ever tell you you had an artistic side?’ Janet said as she picked hers up.
Gill glanced at her.
‘They were lying,’ Janet said.
‘Who’s the Yankee?’ said Kevin.
Gill peered over her glasses.
‘Here’, he pointed to a stick man, US on its triangular torso.
Cretin! Give me strength.
‘Unknown suspect,’ Lee laughed.
Gill clapped her hands to interrupt the mutterings about drawing and graffiti and Minnie the Minx. ‘Are you sitting comfortably? Monday, thirteenth of December, half ten in the morning and Lisa Finn gets the bus to town. Sean Broughton goes to the Jobcentre. In town, Lisa shoplifts clothing and accessories. At twelve thirty she gets a text from her personal advisor James Raleigh saying he’ll be visiting at two that afternoon,’ Gill pointed to the picture on the flipchart. ‘Lisa calls a cab. She’s picked up at five past one. She trades the stolen goods for heroin. In the taxi she receives two calls, one from Sean, one from Denise. She lies to Sean, saying she won’t be home until half past three that afternoon. He’s itching for a fix, but she puts him off. There may have been words exchanged – though he denies that. Lisa tells her mother she’s too busy to talk. At quarter past one Lisa arrives home. She may have taken heroin at this point.’ Gill indicated the next drawing: ‘Two o’clock and James Raleigh shows up, shags Lisa in the bedroom, depositing skin cells on both the duvet and the sheet, and leaving a pubic hair on the sheet. He uses and disposes of a condom. Traces of lubricant from that are recovered with a vaginal swab. His fingerprints are lifted from the bedroom door jamb and the basin in the bathroom, but not found in the living room or kitchen. Raleigh leaves at half two. Allegedly, Lisa is in bed at this point, wearing her dressing gown and the cross and chain. Now’ – Gill tapped the drawing of the unknown suspect – ‘between half two and half three when Sean Broughton returns our unknown suspect’ – Gill pointed to Kevin – ‘pitches up. There is no sign of forced entry but-’
‘Door latch is faulty,’ Pete chipped in, ‘anyone could just waltz in.’
‘Lisa is killed in the living room. There is little sign of a struggle. Suggesting…?’
‘She didn’t know she was in danger,’ said Rachel.
‘It wasn’t a prolonged attack,’ added Lee.
‘Yes. Forensics tell us Lisa was stabbed in the chest once and whoever held the knife moved back into the kitchen, leaving drops of blood on the floor. The cross and chain was torn from Lisa’s neck and found in the kitchen by Sean Broughton, who stole it. We are awaiting DNA results for Angela Hambley, who had possible motive, but until those results are in I want to be discreet. Dig around, see what we can find on Angela. Need a swab and prints from Denise, too. We know she handled the jewellery in the past. Contact the rest of Raleigh’s phone contacts – have we any other members of his harem to consider? Talk to Sean again. What was Lisa doing in the days before her death, who was she-’
‘Doing,’ Mitch interrupted.
‘Ha, ha! Seeing,’ Gill said, ‘in the weeks before her murder. Who visited the flat? Who knew the door was broken?’
‘She didn’t let them in,’ Rachel said suddenly. ‘She’d have got dressed, least put her kecks on.’
A flash of insight again, the sort of contribution that made Gill’s pulse beat faster.
‘Unless it was a punter and she was on the game,’ Kevin said.
‘Nothing to support that,’ Andy said.
‘So we are likely looking for someone who’d been to the flat before. Talk to Benny Broughton too, see if he’s heard anything.’
Once Gill had established that everyone was on track with their reports and their tasks for the day, she asked Rachel to stay behind.
‘You can’t make it personal,’ Gill said. ‘You need to come to terms with it, or it’ll eat you up.’
‘I’m all right,’ Rachel said crossly.
‘No, you’re not, you’re steaming because that twat is going home any minute, because we can’t touch him for the rape.’
‘He did it,’ Rachel said. ‘I know he did it.’
‘You’re probably right. Hand on heart, I’d find him guilty – but we are not the jury. All we can do is find evidence and build a case. There isn’t a case to answer here; the victim’s dead, she never pressed charges or gave us a statement, the DNA wouldn’t stand scrutiny, he can claim he left it there on another occasion, his expert would argue the same. No witnesses, nada. You need to let it go.’
Rachel blinked, set her jaw, resistant.
‘We still have a case to investigate – Lisa Finn. I want you putting everything into that.’
‘And just forget about Rosie?’ Rachel said.
‘Forgetting’s not easy. But pack it up and stick it on a shelf somewhere, otherwise it’s a distraction. It will compromise your effectiveness in my syndicate. And it’ll make you bloody miserable. See a counsellor, if you have to…’
Rachel snorted at that.
‘… take up yoga, sky diving – whatever floats your boat. But you stop lugging this around like some rock tied to your leg. Got it?’
‘Yes, boss.’
‘Now, go with Janet, get a swab and fingerprints from Denise – nicely!’
46
A SECOND MAN has been questioned and released by police investigating the murder of seventeen-year-old Lisa Finn. The twenty-eight-year-old- Rachel wished they’d change the radio station. They’d stopped off to grab lunch, Janet had gone to drop something at the dry cleaners, and Rachel was buying sandwiches when she heard someone say her name. ‘Rachel? Rachel Bailey?’ A woman in the queue behind her. ‘I knew it were you. Bloody hell. How long is it?’