Fallen Heroes Page 7

  After waiting a moment, Nick turned to see that Laura's gaze was fixed on the scene. “Laura?” He snapped his fingers next to her face. “Come on, snap out of -”

  “He's looking at me,” she replied.

  “Well, he's looking at the mirror -”

  “No,” she continued, “he's looking at me. Right into my eyes. Even though he can't see through the one-way mirror, somehow he's looking right at me. I'm not even being melodramatic. It's absolutely true.”

  “Be that as it may -”

  “I think he's telling the truth,” she added.

  “You -” He frowned. “Well, that's definitely not what I thought you'd say. I thought you'd be quietly growing another ulcer.”

  “I think he really was in Brussels last night,” she continued. “There's no doubt about that at all, I was just being stubborn earlier. I also think that if we check his social media and email accounts, we'll find messages between him and this Langston woman, just as he said. I also think the person who killed Sarah Jenkins was acting out of some kind of desire to copy the original murder, but the key word there is copy. It was one person copying the work of another.”

  “So you think Daniel Gregory's innocent in the Jenkins case?”

  “I think this is pointless,” she continued, getting up and heading to the door. “Our wheels are spinning and he knows it.”

  “So this was a waste of time?”

  She turned to him. “No. I needed to see him again. I needed to see his eyes. I thought I remembered everything thing about him, but I'd forgotten that arrogant confidence he always carries. It was the confidence that infuriated me two years ago and made me rush the investigation. I won't fall for the same trick twice. I'm not that stupid.”

  “Right,” Nick replied, followed her out into the corridor, “but -” Suddenly he saw that she was heading toward the interview room. “Hey, Laura, don't -”

  Before he could stop her, she opened the door and stepped inside. Sighing, he hurried to catch up but it was far too late.

  “Good afternoon, Mr. Gregory,” Laura said, forcing a smile.

  “Detective Foster” Daniel Gregory replied, “what a pleasant surprise. I was afraid you planned to stay behind the mirror for the duration of my visit.”

  “I just wanted to thank you for coming to see us today,” she explained, heading over to the table. “As you can understand, when someone copies an earlier crime, we have to explore all the options. We just needed to see if there was anything unusual that happened to you lately, anything that made you think that someone was taking an interest in your movements?”

  “Not that I can think of,” he replied.

  “Are you sure?” she asked. “It could be something small, something that seemed innocuous at the time, like... I don't know, someone going through your bins, or someone you see around a few times?” She waited for him to answer. “As hard as this might be for you to believe, Mr. Gregory, I'm just trying to make sure that you're not in danger. If there's a killer out there with any kind of interest in the Natasha Simonsen case, it's absolutely possible that he or she might be interested in you personally.”

  “I appreciate your concern,” he replied, “but I really haven't noticed anything. I'll make sure to be extra vigilant over the next few days, however.”

  “In that case,” she told him, “you're free to go.”

  “My client has always been free to go,” the lawyer said dourly, hauling himself up from the plastic chair. “He was here voluntarily.”

  “Of course he was,” Laura replied, reaching out a hand for Gregory to shake. “I apologize for my poor choice of words.”

  Getting to his feet, Gregory shook her hand.

  “I also want to apologize for what happened last year,” she continued. “I didn't think it was appropriate for me to contact you and apologize personally, but seeing as you're here on another matter... I'm fully aware that you must have been placed under a great burden during the investigation and trial, and I understand that you must hold a very dim view of the way I handled the case.”

  “We all make mistakes,” he replied.

  “To be honest,” she added, “I wasn't going to come face to face with you today. I was going to stay behind the mirror, just to avoid any unpleasantness, but under the circumstances I think clearing the air might be better.”

  “I hope you catch whoever killed this Jenkins girl,” Gregory replied. “It's always tragic when someone dies, especially when the victim is so young. I really don't have anything to offer you, but I'm sure you'll find the killer. You might have made mistakes in the Natasha Simonsen case, Ms. Foster, but I have never doubted your abilities. Just your judgment.”

  “I'll take that as a compliment.”

  “It was intended as one.”

  “Let's get out of here,” the lawyer muttered, carrying his papers to the door. “I think everyone in this room is having their time wasted right now.”

  “Thank you for speaking to me,” Gregory told Laura as he stepped past her. “It must have taken a degree of courage to come through and face me. I admire that.”

  “Just doing the right thing,” she replied.

  “You can find your own way out, yeah?” Nick asked the lawyer.

  “Yes, thank you,” the lawyer replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “I look forward to my next golf game. I shall have plenty to talk about.”

  Laura and Nick stood and watched as Gregory and his lawyer headed along the corridor.

  “What a colossal knob-head,” Nick said finally.

  “You mean the lawyer?”

  “I mean everyone,” he replied, turning to her. “Are you bloody nuts? Are you soft in the head or something?”

  “I had to do it,” she replied, turning to him. “I'd been hiding for too long, and he knew it.”

  “You shouldn't be within a hundred feet of that man!”

  “Fear was holding me back.”

  “Good! That's one of the things fear's supposed to do! It stops you making the same bloody mistake over and over again.” He sighed. “So now you accept that he's got nothing to do with all of this, right? You've got that through your head, haven't you?”

  She paused. “He didn't kill Sarah Jenkins. Not with his own hands, anyway, but... He's more involved in things than he'd like to let on.”

  “So all that -”

  “He wants to turn this into a game,” she continued. “He wants to make it a thing. By apologizing to him, I showed him that I'm not taking the bait, which means he'll have to try something new. After all, when you're trying to rile someone, the most annoying thing they can do in response is to stay calm.”

  “Laura...”

  “It's his move now,” she added. “Every time he makes a move, he risks making a mistake. Ophelia was trying to make him hold back and be cautious, but that was the wrong move. We need to provoke him and make him try something. He's obviously got someone he's working with, someone who killed Sarah Jenkins on his -”

  “Bollocks.”

  She sighed.

  “You're still obsessed over Daniel Gregory,” he continued. “No matter what you say, no matter what the evidence suggests, you always end up coming back to him.”

  “He lied to us just now.”

  “No, he really didn't.”

  “Yes,” she replied, “he really did. He said he hadn't noticed anything suspicious, that he hadn't been aware of anyone watching him. I know for a fact that Ophelia has been following him, and doing a spectacularly crappy job of it. There's no way he hasn't spotted her.”

  “So?”

  “So why didn't he mention that?”

  “Maybe because he knows that she's one of your pals,” he continued, “and he didn't want to embarrass you any further by bringing it up. Maybe he just hopes that you'll have the sense and decency to tell that stupid kid to pack it in.”

  “I've already told her that.”

  “And she'll listen, will she?”

  “I doubt
it.”

  “Remember what I said about harassment?”

  “We just have to be ready for him to make his next move. Until then, let's look into this Langston woman in Brussels. I'm sure his story'll check out, but it's worth a quick poke, just in case he made a mistake. Other than that, we just have to wait.” She turned to walk away. “I've got -”

  “This is going to end badly for you,” he said suddenly.

  “Not if -”

  “And what if his next move is another murder?”

  At this, Laura stopped and looked back at him.

  “I'm going to start looking at other leads,” he continued. “I'm going to forget about the Daniel Gregory connection completely, and I'm going to go back to the old Natasha Simonsen case notes and just start from scratch. If you've got any sense, you'll join me on that. Every time Daniel Gregory is shown to not be linked to this, you come up with another convoluted reason why maybe, just maybe, there's still a chance.”

  “I'm going to get in touch with Brussels and -”

  “You're turning into her.”

  She paused again. “I'm sorry?”

  “In your own way,” he continued, “you're becoming a little bit more like Ophelia. Taking bigger risks, going out on a limb, coming up with crazier ideas. You might not see it, but it's happening, and it's not gonna end well. I'm not saying that to scare you, or to be mean. I'm saying it because I don't wanna see you lose it completely.”

  “Thanks for your concern,” she replied, turning to head toward her office.

  “If you keep going like this,” he called after her, “you'll hit a brick wall. Or you'll crash and burn. Try to listen to me, for God's sake. Laura? Hey, don't just walk away!”

  Chapter Seven

  “Hi,” Ophelia said as soon as soon as the door swung open, “I'm sorry to bother you, but is Daniel home?”

  “I'm sorry?” the woman replied with a faint Scottish accent. “Who?”

  “It's okay,” Ophelia continued, glancing past her and seeing the stairs in the hallway, leading up to the landing, “I'm a friend of his. I just wanted to pop round and see how my old mate Danny is settling into the room he's renting from you.”

  “Daniel?” The woman paused. “I'm sorry, there's no-one here by that name.”

  “But you do rent rooms out, don't you?”

  “A couple, but I'm afraid you've got the wrong end of the stick somewhere, love. There's no-one named Daniel here, never has been.”

  “Huh.”At this, Ophelia paused. The news that Daniel Gregory was renting the room under a false name wasn't entirely unexpected, and it at least gave her a chance to try a new approach. “Well, maybe he's been using his middle name?”

  “And what's that?” the woman asked, clearly starting to become a little suspicious.

  “Well,” Ophelia replied with a smile, “God, now you're really putting me on the spot, aren't you? Isn't it...” She paused again, hoping that the woman would offer some suggestions. “Michael? David? Something like that?”

  The woman shook her head.

  “Or is it...” Again, Ophelia paused, but the woman still didn't try to help. “Bob, maybe? John?”

  “I'm sorry,” she replied, “but I really don't think I can help you.” With that, she began to swing the door shut.

  “Here's the thing,” Ophelia said with a smile, putting her foot in the way, “I had this kind of one-night thing with him, and I've got to admit, I'd been drinking. I turn into a total slut when I've had a few vodkas, and I sort of... Well, I ended up with a plus one, if you know what I mean.” She tapped her belly. “I think he gave me a fake name to avoid having to take responsibility, and the people at the benefits office say I need his real name before I can get any money, so if you can just tell me the name he's been using while he's staying here -”

  “Do you think I'm stupid?” the woman asked.

  “Not at all, I just -”

  “If you come here again with this ridiculous story,” she continued, “I'll call the police, do you understand?”

  “There's no need to -”

  “Get out of here.” Kicking Ophelia's foot out of the way, she slammed the door shut so hard that the glass rattled in the frame.

  With a sigh, Ophelia stepped back and looked at the house's upstairs windows.

  “Worth a try,” she muttered. “Come on, Daniel Gregory, what are you doing renting a room here?”

  ***

  “God, it's just awful,” one of the blonde girls said, as she crouched down and placed a bunch of flowers next to the door. “I can't believe anyone would ever want to hurt Sarah.”

  “I hope they find the bastard and lock him away for the rest of his life,” the other girl replied. “It's times like this when I actually think they should bring back the death penalty. Just put a rope around his neck and hang him from a lamppost. I'd watch.”

  “Totally,” Ophelia said suddenly, slipping up behind them. “Poor Sarah didn't deserve to have this happen. I mean, no-one deserves something like that, but Sarah in particular... She was just the most wonderful person. I just...”

  Sniffing back tears, the nearest blonde girl turned to her. “How did you know Sarah?”

  “Same cookery classes at the local night-school,” Ophelia replied.

  “Cookery classes?” The girl turned to her friend. “Did you know Sarah took cookery classes?”

  “Sarah hated cooking,” the other girl replied.

  “Of course she did,” Ophelia continued, “but like any smart person, she knew that sometimes hatred is caused by fear, and she wanted to face that fear. Didn't she tell you she was coming to classes?”

  “No, and -”

  “Do you know what she was doing last night?” Ophelia continued, before either of the other girls had a chance to say anything. “I hadn't spoken to her for a while. Was she out partying?”

  “She came with us to a club,” one of the girls said, “but you know what she was like, she got tired not long after midnight and she was also a bit freaked-out by this guy she'd met.”

  “What guy?”

  “It was kind of a date,” the other girl added. “They arranged to meet at the club and Sarah asked a few of us to tag along, so it wouldn't be too awkward. I think he told her he could help with her career. She wanted to get into modeling, but there's so many creeps about who juts want to take advantage. This guy apparently worked for an actual newspaper or magazine company, something like that, so she figured he might be legit, but I don't think she was really that keen on hanging out with him.”

  “She was definitely not keen,” the first girl chipped in. “Not when she was sober, anyway.”

  “But after a few drinks.”

  “Well, you know what Sarah was like after she'd got some vodka into her system.”

  “Hell, yes,” Ophelia replied. “I know what Sarah was like on vodka, alright.”

  “We already told the police everything we know,” the first girl explained. “We didn't really get a chance to meet the guy properly, Sarah kind of kept the two groups apart all night. Now it looks like... I mean, God, if he's the one who killed her, maybe we could have done something, you know? Maybe if we hadn't let her slip away on her own, the guy wouldn't have followed her home and...”

  “Stabbed her repeatedly in the back,” the other girl added.

  “Gross,” Ophelia replied. “So which club were you guys at, anyway?”

  “Club International, down the road.”

  “Cool club,” Ophelia muttered, even though she'd never been to a nightclub in her life. “Lots of... music. And dancing, with tons of real cool beats and suchlike. And alcohol, like, flowing freely. What else could you want, am I right?”

  The two girls stared at her for a moment, as if they weren't quite sure what they were witnessing.

  “So this guy,” she continued, realizing that her attempt to fit in wasn't going too well, “turned up at the club and, what, danced for a while?”

  “I think they t
alked,” the first girl said, “but not for too long. He was a bit older, and it was like he thought he could hang out with us but really he couldn't. He kinda stood out a bit, like he was trying too hard. Sarah came back and told us he had kinda bad breath, and apparently he didn't look nearly as good as his profile made him out to be. Still, apparently he kept telling her he had contact and could maybe get her modeling gigs, so...”

  “He had a slight gut,” the other girl added, wincing as if that was the most disgusting thing in the whole world. “I mean, what the hell kind of person thinks they can hook up with someone from college, when they have a gut? Sarah said he seemed to be, like, in this thirties!”

  “Lame,” Ophelia replied, rolling her eyes. “So what happened? Did the guy just bugger off after she made it clear she wasn't interested?”

  “They agreed to meet again,” the second girl said. “You know, she really wanted to use his contacts, so I think... I mean, I know it's gross, but I think she was thinking of, like, seeing him for a bit. Dating, that kind of thing, just to use him. It's kinda sad if you think about it.”

  “At first she thought he'd left,” the first girl explained, “but then later she thought she saw him watching her. She got a bit freaked out, but she looked around and couldn't see him again. We told all this to the police, and they're going to see if they caught him on the club's cameras. The weirdest thing was that later she seemed to completely change her mind. She started acting like she regretted turning him down, and I think she even sent him some messages to see if he wanted to meet up again. She was pretty wasted by then.”

  “That does sound weird,” Ophelia replied. “What could have changed her mind so quickly?”

  “Fame. She wanted those modeling gigs.”

  “It's just so horrible to think about,” the second girl added. “Less than a week ago, we were making plans to start auditioning for a bunch of reality TV shows, and now she's gone.”

  “Reality TV?”

  “We were joking that it'd be a way to get famous and make some money. Except...” She paused. “I dunno, Sarah seemed to take it more seriously, like she actually thought she could make it big that way. I know it sounds crazy, but she'd started researching it properly, like she thought it was a possibility.”