‘Children can be very mean to one another at that age without even realizing it. Did Helen tell Miss Summers about the bullying?’
‘No. She just had a word with the two boys — put the fear of God in them. Believe me, they soon stopped calling Simon names.’ Mrs. Matthews smiled at the memory, then suddenly started to cry. ‘I just can’t believe I’ll never see my Helen again. And the thought Simon may have been abused is unbearable.’
Jane quickly made a note to make enquiries about Helen Matthews’ cleaning work in Harley Street, then put her hand gently on Mrs. Matthews’ shoulder.
‘I’ll arrange the interview at social services and be in touch tomorrow, Brenda. I’ve got a few things to do back at the station now, I’m afraid. Will you be OK if I get a uniform patrol car to take you to see Mrs. Rowlands?’
Mrs. Matthews nodded as she blew her nose on a tissue and wiped the tears from her cheeks.
Jane was exhausted, physically and emotionally, but made sure she updated Moran before she left the office. Driving home to an empty fridge, she stopped at a kebab shop and chose a chicken shish with salad. At least it was healthier than a doner kebab, she thought wryly to herself as she got back in the car.
Once home, she wolfed down her kebab, had a relaxing bubble bath and went straight to bed. But sleep eluded her as the events of the day replayed themselves in her mind. So many lives had been changed for ever. The thought of little Simon losing his mother was almost unbearable, but Jane knew that even Andrew Hastings, as obnoxious as he was, must be suffering at the loss of his own mother. Jane suddenly found herself welling up as she thought of the three dead women, their families and how happy times could turn to misery and grief in the blink of an eye. She thought again of her own parents, and how it must have been for them when her brother drowned aged three. She was only four herself then, and didn’t really understand what had happened at the time, but right now she imagined herself in the mortuary viewing her brother’s body with her parents. In the darkness, her tears began to flow.
The bedside phone rang. Jane didn’t want to speak to anyone, but knowing it might be something to do with the investigation, she reluctantly picked it up. It was Paul Lawrence.
‘Hi, Jane, sorry to bother you at home. I just wanted to apologize for my surly behavior today. I hope I didn’t upset you.’
Jane took a moment to compose herself, but her voice sounded hoarse. ‘You didn’t. We’re all under pressure, Paul, and I know you’ve got a lot more on your plate than most of us.’
‘You OK?’
Jane wanted to pour out her feelings, but was scared Paul might think she wasn’t coping. ‘Yes, I’m fine. I’ve had a busy day and I’m tired, that’s all.’
Paul wasn’t convinced. ‘Are you sure? If there’s anything bothering or upsetting you, you know you can tell me in confidence. It’s better to let it out than bottle it up.’
There was such obvious concern in his voice, Jane began to well up again. ‘I know it’s stupid, Paul, and it’s not like me, but I feel like I’m on an emotional rollercoaster and can’t get off.’ She began to tell him about her day. She was speaking so quickly, he could hardly keep up with her, let alone get a word in himself. In the end, he just let her pour out her feelings and listened.
‘...and ever since I got home I can’t stop thinking how sad it all is. To be honest, I don’t even know why I’m crying.’
‘You’re crying because you care, Jane,’ he said finally. ‘Shedding a tear, even as a police officer, is nothing to be ashamed of. Believe me, I’ve had many a blubber under the sheets when I’ve got home from some horrific crime scene. Especially where children are the victims. You’re strong, Jane, a good detective, and although you may not think it, well respected.’
‘Thanks, Paul.’ Jane sniffed and took a deep breath. ‘Did you do a search at Helen Matthews’ house?’
‘Not personally. I was busy at the lab. Moran sent Edwards and two SOCOs to the address. Just like Eileen Summers’ flat, the place had been ransacked but there was no forced entry. Aiden Lang’s fingerprints were found on the dressing table drawers and the wardrobe.’
‘He must have stolen Helen’s house keys when he murdered her and went looking for money and valuables,’ Jane mused.
‘Certainly looks like it. Moran’s now worried the three women’s murders may be linked to sexual abuse on Simon.’
‘Then that means Simon could be in danger!’ Jane exclaimed.
‘It’s OK,’ Paul reassured her. ‘Moran already thought of that. Simon and his grandmother are staying at Mrs. Rowlands’ and there’s an armed PC at the front and rear.’
There was a brief silence before Paul continued. ‘I was just wondering — and I know it depends on how the investigation is going — but would you like to come round to my place for dinner on Saturday night?’
‘That would be lovely, thank you, Paul.’
‘Do you like beef Wellington?’
‘I do. And I’ll bring a nice bottle of red to go with it. Are you still at the same address?’
‘No, I moved from the mews house.’
Jane grabbed a pen and notepad off her bedside table and wrote down the new address.
‘Pop into the lab tomorrow if you want to talk more,’ Paul said finally.
‘I’m going to Harley Street. Helen Matthews was a cleaner for a private dentist there, so I want to speak with him.’
‘OK, take care then.’
She put the phone down and realized how much better she felt after speaking to Paul. She smiled to herself as she snuggled up in bed. Paul was a very attractive man, and maybe it would be nice if something did develop between them.
Chapter Fifteen
Jane woke refreshed, which she put down to a mixture of sheer exhaustion and Paul Lawrence’s kind words making her feel more relaxed. After breakfast, she looked through the Yellow Pages and found twelve dental practices in Harley Street, then phoned the office and told Gibbs she was going to make enquiries about Helen Matthews.
It was a cold but sunny morning, and Jane decided to walk from her flat to Harley Street, an area renowned around the world for its high quality private medical and dental clinics and hospitals. Jane walked at a brisk pace and arrived at Harley Street in fifteen minutes. Standing at the north end of the street, she admired the rows of large Georgian townhouses, most of which were now used as clinics, with their beautiful detailing: cast iron balconies, arched doorways and vast first-floor windows. Jane couldn’t help but notice how devoid the street was of rubbish, compared to other parts of London. She saw a man dressed in overalls come out of a building, carrying two bags of rubbish which he threw into the back of a large open-back lorry. She realized that it was a private company who the wealthy residents must have hired to clear their refuse.
The receptionists at the first two clinics told her snootily over the intercom that they’d never heard of Helen Matthews. She was just looking at her list for the next address when she saw DCS Blake coming out of one of the buildings further up the street. She wondered at first if he was on police business, but then noticed he was holding his hand to the side of his mouth, as if he was in pain. He didn’t appear to see her as he got into the passenger seat of an unmarked police Ford Granada, which immediately drove off. Jane wondered how he could afford to be treated in Harley Street, even on a DCS’ pay, and decided to take a look.