Dead Guilty Read online

Page 12


  ‘Of course, I’ll come now. It was nice to meet you,’ she said to Lyndsey. The woman wasn’t paying attention to her, though.

  ‘When did you arrive on the island, Mr Pope?’

  The question was as unexpected as its delivery was abrupt, yet George did not seem remotely ruffled by it.

  ‘Is this an official line of questioning, Ms Shepherd?’ he parried back.

  ‘No, just making polite conversation.’

  Maggie was baffled by the exchange. Lyndsey’s sentence dripped with sarcasm and George’s reply was equally brittle. What had caused such friction between them? George was the victim’s brother and Evans once the accused, but to see Lyndsey interact with them was to think it was the other way round.

  ‘I hope the memorial serves its purpose. It must be very hard for your parents,’ said Lyndsey.

  ‘It most certainly is when people seem to have conveniently glossed over what happened to my sister,’ said George in a tight voice, his comment aimed firmly at Evans. ‘People wouldn’t be so quick to forget if it happened again.’

  Evans looked disgruntled but said nothing.

  ‘I shall bid you a polite farewell,’ George went on. ‘I’m sure Mr Evans has better things to do than watch my family suffer again over the death of my sister.’

  ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ Evans spluttered.

  ‘Ignore him,’ Lyndsey cautioned. ‘Let’s go indoors.’

  The pair of them began walking away, then Lyndsey came to a halt and turned back to face Maggie and George.

  ‘I hope the ceremony goes well for your parents, Mr Pope. It’s about time they had closure, don’t you think?’

  28

  Maggie waited until Lyndsey had led Evans back through the gate into his garden and shut it behind them. She turned to George.

  ‘What was all that about?’

  ‘I can’t stand that man. All he’s ever done is whinge and whine about what an inconvenience my sister’s murder was for him. He’s never expressed one iota of sympathy for my parents for what they’ve gone through.’

  ‘He has had a pretty tough time of it,’ Maggie pointed out. ‘Being accused of murder takes its toll too.’

  ‘I’ll never be convinced that he had nothing to do with it,’ said George grimly. ‘I mean, how convenient that he pushes off to Palma just at the point the killer decides to drop Katy’s body off outside his house.’

  ‘What, you think he might have been an accomplice to the killer? There was nothing to suggest that, and his life was pretty much dissected to look for anything that could link him to Katy’s abduction and death. Aside from the fact he was known to the police and lived here, there was nothing.’

  ‘Please don’t defend him,’ said George hotly.

  ‘I’m not,’ she said hurriedly. ‘I’m just saying I think your anger at him is a bit misplaced, although I agree he could be more sympathetic to you and your parents.’

  ‘Good, because I don’t want to think of you being on his side and not ours.’

  The smile had returned to his face and Maggie found herself feeling flustered again. She really needed to get a grip around him.

  ‘So, have you got a spare moment to talk to Dad now? He wants to ask you about the email sent to that Lara woman. I’ve told him everything you said, but he’d rather hear it from you.’

  ‘Of course. Is he inside?’

  ‘Yes.’ George offered his arm for her to hold on to. ‘Shall we?’

  Maggie baulked; she really had to put a stop to this overt behaviour of his. It was crossing the line of what was acceptable.

  ‘George, I’m your family liaison officer, okay? Please don’t mistake my friendliness and willingness to help you for anything else. This is a purely professional arrangement.’

  He grinned. ‘If you say so.’

  29

  An hour past its proposed start time and the memorial service was still not underway. The guests who had already taken their seats by the pond were fidgeting and fanning themselves against the mid-afternoon heat, Maggie among them. Her thighs were welded together by sweat and she wished desperately she could nip back to her hotel room and change out of her dress into a pair of trousers.

  The delay was, surprisingly, given her attention to detail, Patricia’s doing. She had brought with her to Majorca a photograph of Katy blown up to A3 size and mounted on board that she planned to display during the service. It was the same image the family had given to the police to aid their search in the week before her body was found, and which was subsequently used time and time again in newspapers, online and on television.

  Unfortunately, neither Patricia nor anyone else had given thought to how the board would be displayed and after she decided that propping it up on a chair simply would not do, George had been dispatched into the centre of Saros to see if any of the shops there selling artwork had an easel they wouldn’t mind him borrowing. He’d been gone half an hour already and the police officer sitting next to Maggie, who’d earlier introduced himself as Inspector Jacob Jasso, told her to expect a long wait for him to return.

  ‘They won’t be open now,’ Jasso had said with a chuckle. ‘Es hora de la siesta.’

  ‘Time for siesta?’ asked Maggie, who had a schoolgirl grasp of Spanish.

  ‘For the next hour at least.’

  Jasso was one of two Majorcan officers in attendance. He was from the local station in Saros while the other was a detective sent from Palma. From what DCI Walker had gleaned chatting to the pair of them beforehand, their presence at the memorial service was a box-ticking exercise for public relations. As far as the island’s police were concerned, every avenue had been exhausted trying to find Katy’s killer and the case was now as dead as she was.

  Also present, however, was Chief Inspector Galen Martos, the detective who had led the initial investigation but was now retired from service. Martos, a short, stocky man in his sixties, said little on his arrival, keeping a respectful distance from the Popes, but when he took a seat in the back row Walker sat down next to him and the pair were now huddled in a whispered conversation.

  Maggie was in the second row, directly behind Philip Pope and Declan Morris. It was after she and George had returned to the apartment to discuss the email development with Philip that Patricia had erupted about Katy’s picture and everyone was scrabbling around trying to appease her. Not George though: calmly, he’d told his mother to stop making a fuss and that he’d sort something out. His words were all it took to tranquillize Patricia’s hysteria and now she was seated quietly next to her husband on the front row, rereading the speech she planned to make. Maggie wondered if Philip had been given the option of saying a few words about his daughter and came to the conclusion he probably hadn’t.

  A handful of locals who wanted to pay their respects took up the other seats, including Annika, who’d swept her hair back into a bun and was also wearing a dress. She looked cool and possessed, as though sweaty legs weren’t something she ever worried about.

  Maggie surveyed the other attendees as she readjusted her sunglasses, which kept sliding down her nose. Lyndsey had left Terry Evans in his apartment to join the congregation and there were quite a few journalists seated as well. Johnnie Hickman-Ferguson had front-row status on the other side of Patricia, smartened up in a shirt and trousers with his hair greased back into a ponytail. Walker had gone down to the marina to follow up on his claims that Katy had wanted to dump Declan, but he hadn’t been on his boat and now it was driving the DCI nuts that Johnnie didn’t appear have a mobile he could contact him on.

  ‘I’m all for quitting the rat race and living off-grid, but who the fuck manages without a phone in this day and age?’ he kept saying.

  Ten minutes later, at the point where Maggie thought she might pass out in the heat, George, in a navy suit, white shirt and black tie, returned brandishing a wooden easel, which he promptly set up by the pond. The picture of his sister in place, he slipped into the chair next to his fathe
r. Glancing over his shoulder, he caught Maggie’s eye, smiled and winked.

  Ignoring the frisson she felt, Maggie stared resolutely ahead. Patricia was on her feet now to say a short prayer and asked that everyone do the same. Paulson was sitting next to Maggie and complained in an undertone that he was an atheist, which she answered by jabbing him in the ribs with her elbow and telling him to shush.

  Then she jumped out of her skin as Inspector Jasso’s mobile began to ring right next to her. Patricia huffed loudly, furious at the interruption, and the officer apologized profusely as he scrabbled to silence the call. But even though he’d killed the volume, his phone wouldn’t stop vibrating as the caller tried again.

  ‘I do apologize,’ he said again sheepishly.

  He slid out of his seat and walked towards the path to leave. He was listening intently to the caller when he stopped abruptly. Maggie heard him ask ‘¿Falta de dónde?’ after which he spluttered ‘mierda’ – which she knew to be an expletive – then launched into a string of Spanish too rapid for her to follow. By now everyone else was watching him too.

  ‘Anyone know what he’s saying?’ asked Paulson, looking around.

  One of the reporters sitting two rows behind them raised his hand.

  ‘He said, “Missing from where?” Then he asked which part of the beach and what time was she last seen and do they have a name for the woman yet?’

  The reporter appeared smug that he was able to translate but as his sentence dwindled to an end, the shocked faces around him made him take stock of what he’d just repeated.

  ‘Fucking hell,’ he breathed.

  Jasso became aware that all eyes were on him. Slowly, he lowered the handset from his ear and covered the mouthpiece with his other hand. He was a visible confliction of emotions, shock wrestling with disquiet.

  ‘A young woman has been reported missing from the beach,’ he said, the graveness of his tone thickening his accent. ‘They say she is British.’

  ‘Like Katy?’ gasped Philip, clutching George’s hand for support.

  Jasso nodded. ‘Like your daughter.’

  30

  There was a moment’s pause, then Walker jumped to his feet and gestured to Paulson, Shah and Maggie to do the same.

  ‘You lot, come with me.’ He turned to Jasso. ‘Let us help you.’

  The inspector nodded. He was ashen beneath his natural tan and Maggie could only speculate what else had been relayed to him by the person on the other end of the call. Even if it turned out to be a false alarm, a young British woman being reported missing in Saros on the anniversary of Katy Pope’s disappearance was still going to thrust the local police back into an unwelcome spotlight.

  But as they moved to leave, Patricia stepped forward. Unlike everyone else, she appeared not to be alarmed by the information Jasso had relayed, but instead was visibly aggrieved.

  ‘You cannot leave before the end of the service. I will not have it,’ she said.

  ‘But, darling, didn’t you hear what he said? A young woman’s gone missing like Katy. They need to go and look for her,’ implored Philip. He reached forward to take his wife’s arm but she shrugged him off as though his touch was corrosive. Then she clapped her hands briskly.

  ‘Can everyone retake their seats and I’ll start the prayer again.’

  ‘Mum, the police need to go,’ said George, his voice strained.

  Again, there was no acknowledgement from Patricia.

  ‘Philip, George, do sit down,’ she said. ‘Come along everyone.’

  Jasso peeled away from the crowd, muttering into his mobile. Walker stared after him, then turned to Maggie and mouthed, ‘We need to go.’

  She frowned. What did he expect her to do? Then she realized that what he expected was for her to appease Patricia rather than leaving him to do it himself. Cursing his cowardice, she took a deep breath and went to the front. For a moment it looked as though Patricia was going to ignore her, so Maggie moved forward until they were barely a hand width apart. She spoke softly, so only Patricia and Philip, who had joined her at the front, could hear her.

  ‘We all understand how important the memorial service is, Mrs Pope, and the last thing any of us wants to do is disrupt it. But if a British national has gone missing from the beach then we should assist the local police in the search,’ she said. ‘You of all people must be able to appreciate that.’

  The look of contempt on Patricia’s face made Maggie’s insides shrivel, but she held her nerve.

  ‘It’s up to you,’ she went on, ‘but you can either continue the service without us or postpone it for a couple of hours until we’ve had a chance to establish what’s going on. With any luck, it will be a false alarm.’

  ‘I think we should wait, darling,’ said Philip weakly.

  ‘Nonsense.’ Patricia turned to Walker. ‘Do you all need to go?’

  That’s me staying put, thought Maggie resignedly. She was their FLO – it made sense for her to remain behind. Besides, Paulson and Shah were already halfway along the path leading from the pond, hot on Jasso’s heels.

  ‘Yes, we should all go,’ Walker said firmly. ‘Come on, Maggie.’

  ‘I’ll come too,’ said Lyndsey Shepherd, rising from her chair.

  ‘This is ridiculous,’ huffed Patricia. ‘It’s probably a fuss about nothing.’

  There was no mistaking the sharp intake of breath behind her. Johnnie got to his feet, shaking his head.

  ‘You’ve said and done some nasty things in your time, but I think you’re about to surpass yourself,’ he exclaimed. ‘What would Katy think of you right now, ignoring some poor girl who might be in serious trouble?’

  Declan, who until this point had remained passively seated, got to his feet. ‘She just wants to remember her daughter,’ he said.

  ‘She’s trying to stop the police from doing their job,’ Johnnie hit back.

  Patricia appeared to flounder for a moment, before gathering herself and retaliating with a scathing reply.

  ‘Don’t you dare tell me what Katy would’ve thought. As much as you like to think otherwise, you didn’t know her like I did.’

  Johnnie cocked an eyebrow at her. ‘Oh, you have no idea, lady. No idea at all.’

  Maggie didn’t think it would be possible for the air to get any clammier, but it did in that moment as a heavy silence fell upon the group. Patricia looked as though she wanted to throttle Johnnie, while he stood there, hands on hips, wordlessly goading her to try.

  ‘Please, stop this, the both of you,’ cried Philip. ‘This is not acceptable behaviour.’

  ‘Dad’s right,’ said George, who looked as distressed as his father, his skin paled to a shade that almost matched his shirt. He turned to Maggie. ‘You should go, we understand. We’ll hold off the service until later – I don’t think now’s the time.’ His voice cracked. ‘Please let us know when you find her. I can’t bear the thought that someone else—’ He dissolved in tears and Johnnie put an arm around his shoulders.

  ‘I’ll call as soon as there’s news, I promise,’ Maggie said.

  She went to move but George suddenly grabbed her hand. His touch sent a ripple through her body and she could feel her face scorch red.

  ‘Thank you,’ he said, his eyes boring into hers.

  Flustered, she pulled her hand away and nodded, then scuttled over to where Walker and Lyndsey were waiting. Together the three of them headed down the path towards the exit, the reporters right behind them and the sound of Patricia Pope’s ranting following them all.

  31

  It was a strange situation for the Operation Pivot team to be in – a major incident unfolding around them, but no obvious role for them to play in it. Walker in particular was becoming agitated by the four of them just standing on the sidelines, watching, as Jasso barked orders at his officers in Spanish but said nothing to them.

  The next time Jasso went past, Walker forcibly grabbed his arm.

  ‘Let us help, for crying out loud.’


  Jasso looked annoyed at the interruption, but conceded.

  ‘Fine. You can talk to any British holidaymakers on the beach. We’ve asked everyone to stay put until they’ve given their statements.’ Then he stalked off again.

  ‘Amit, Vince, you come with me,’ he said. ‘Maggie, I want you to see if you can find the parents. If I go steaming in there, Jasso’s bound to kick off, but he might mind less if you talk to them, being a FLO. Call me when you’ve located them.’

  ‘Sure, I will.’

  She went over to the Eroski mini-mart where Jade was apparently headed to when she left her parents and fiancé on the beach. Jasso’s officers had been darting in and out of the store for the half-hour that she and the others had been watching them. One of them had been pointing up at the CCTV outside. She wondered if Jade had been caught on camera and, if so, what she’d been doing.

  There was a middle-aged woman standing outside the mini-mart who looked upset, so Maggie went up to her.

  ‘Do you speak English?’ she asked.

  The woman said yes.

  ‘Are you the manager? My name is Maggie and I’m with the British police.’

  The woman baulked as Maggie held up her warrant card.

  ‘Don’t worry; I’m not here to talk to you. Inspector Jasso and his men will be taking your statement. I’m looking for the missing woman’s parents. Someone said they were waiting inside your store?’ She knew they wouldn’t be, but she hoped that by asking the woman would send her in the right direction.

  ‘I think they are at the Hotel Espléndido,’ said the woman, pointing at the building next door.

  ‘Gracias, thank you.’ Maggie paused. ‘Is she on the CCTV?’

  The woman, close to tears now, shook her head. ‘She never made it inside.’

  Maggie thanked her again then crossed the paved walkway towards the hotel. She jumped out of her skin when Jasso suddenly appeared in front of her.

  ‘Where are you going? I told Walker you could go on the beach, not anywhere else.’