Ghigau 16

Sam Tate could sense this case was going to become big news. After the press conference, and Lenny’s outburst, when he'd found out about the stalking complaint, she had gone back to the office and run through the case file from front to back. Lenny was probably right to be suspicious, surely there had to be a connection between the stalking and Nikki’s disappearance. At least, that was her gut feeling. 

    Tench came over to give her a rundown of his interview with Hermione Patterson.

    “She certainly fancies herself,” he started. “Big house, obviously got a few bob. Didn’t seem overly worried about Mrs Talbot’s disappearance but that might have been shock”

    “Can she account for her movements?” Said Sam.

    “Well, she says she was at home alone so there’s no-one to corroborate it.” Tench said. “Mr Talbot called her at 6pm on her mobile but of course she could have been anywhere. We could check that with the provider if we need to.”

    “Ok, anything else interesting?” Sam asked.

“Maybe,” said Tench. “Patterson took a phone call for Nikki Talbot after she’d left the gallery. It was from a woman who claimed to be calling regarding Mrs Talbot’s contact lenses. Funny thing is, according to Patterson, Nikki Talbot doesn’t wear them.”

    “Maybe she was going to change to lenses.” Suggested Sam.

    “Yeah, maybe,” he shrugged. “The number was mobile, which struck me as odd. I’ve rung it several times. Goes straight to generic voicemail. I’ve checked it and it’s a Tesco mobile, pay-as-you-go, also odd.”

    “Could be something, could be nothing. Did you leave a message?” Sam asked.

    “I did. No-one’s called back though.” Tench said. “And something else, either Ms Patterson likes it rough or someone squeezed her wrists hard enough to bruise them.”

    Sam looked interested, “She showed you this?”

    “No, but I saw the marks, I wouldn’t want to swear it but they could have been made by handcuffs.” Tench said.

    Sam tutted, “What goes on in suburbia eh?”

    “I thought it worth mentioning. She’s a very well turned out lady, I wouldn’t think she liked getting marked up like that.”

    Sam put that bit of information away for the moment, she couldn’t see why it might be relevant, but you never knew. At that moment her internal phone rang. It was the Forensic Officer carrying out the cctv retrieval, calling to tell her they had collated the recordings. She told them she would be right down.

    Sam and Tench stood either side of the FO, the three of them were crowed around a large monitor set on a desk of its own. The image on the screen was divided into four squares. Three showed different views of a section of road, the fourth was blacked out.

    “What are we looking at?” Asked Sam.

    “This is outside 151 Regents Park Road, between Chalk Farm and the bridge,” said the FO. 

    “Ok got it.” Said Sam. She knew this road was along the shortest route that Nikki could have taken between St Silas Place and home. 

    There was one camera mounted on the South side looking north across the street, and two mounted on the North side  — each looking along the street, one east and one west. All the cameras seemed to be mounted up high, foreshortening the image and making it hard to see faces.

    The FO clicked a mouse and the three images began to move in synchronisation.

The time stamp at the bottom of the screen showed Monday’s date and a time of 5.15pm. Entering from the left of view and walking west towards the footbridge that crossed the canal and joined Chalk Farm to Primrose hill, was a woman in a loose fitting, yellow summer dress, pale espadrilles and what looked like a wicker tote bag over her shoulder. You couldn’t see her face but Sam was sure it was Nikki, She looked at Tench who nodded, confirming what she thought.

    As Nikki walked she glanced over her shoulder as if preparing to cross the road to the South Side, which would make sense if she was planning to carry on over the bridge. Just as she was about to step off the kerb however, a large black car with the three pointed star of a Mercedes on its bonnet, that was heading east in the opposite direction to Nikki, pulled up and stopped, blocking her path. 

    Sam leaned in closer to the screen. In the first image, from the South side camera, the profile of the car was now blocking any view of Nikki from the chest down. The other two cameras looking east and west showed Nikki and the car quite clearly, but not who was in it. She could just make out that the rear window on the kerb side was down. 

    On the screen, Nikki stopped and bent down to look in the window of the car. Sam tried to imagine what might be being said. ‘Excuse me can you direct me to Hampstead heath?’  or ‘Am I going the right way for The Roundhouse?’. The person in the rear of the car was almost entirely hidden from view. Only occasionally could Sam see a hand and a white shirt cuff. Whatever the conversation was, it was taking longer than seemed reasonable for a simple question, and Sam hadn’t observed Nikki pointing or indicating directions in any way. Then something strange happened. Nikki suddenly clapped her right hand to her mouth and staggered back from the car a step or two, as if she’d been slapped in the face. Then she walked away, but only a few feet. She leaned her back against the building behind her and, in the manner of someone who has received bad news, hugged herself and bowed her head. The car stayed where it was, a wisp of condensation from the exhaust told Sam the engine was still running. 

        Sam glanced at the image from the camera recording events from the South side. She could just make out a shape behind the driver’s window. She thought she could see a shoulder clothed in black and a shaved head.  But it was impossible to be certain because of the sunlight reflecting off the glass. She returned her focus to the overhead camera image. Nikki had returned to the car and was bending down again to see eye to eye with the occupant. Her hand movements were agitated — aggressive perhaps; it was clear some kind of argument was going on. Then the rear door of the car opened as if inviting Nikki to get in. She stood up straight and stepped back, standing stock still and looking into the car, apparently trying to decide to what to do. The tension in her body was palpable.  

    Don’t do it, Sam thought, don’t get in.

After they had watched the cctv twice. Sam asked for the ANPR information. The car was a Mercedes S500 and it was registered as a private hire vehicle to an Alan O’Donnell at an address in Plaistow, London. O’Donnell wasn’t on the Police National Computer and there wasn’t so much as a traffic ticket against the car.

    “What do you think?” Sam asked Tench when they were back in the Detective’s room.

    He looked pleased to be consulted. “I think I should polish up my truncheon and then pay Mr O’Donnell a visit.” He was only half joking. 

    “It didn’t look as if she was forced, persuaded maybe, but not forced.” Sam said, thinking out loud. “And if this O’Donnell was driving then someone else was talking to Nikki from the back of the car.

    “Well, if she’s gone voluntarily, or she knows whoever was in that car, why hasn’t she been in touch with hubby?” Said Tench.

    Sam nodded. “Yes, why hasn’t she? I think I should let Mr Talbot know what’s going on. He may know who this O’Donnell is.”

    “Do you think that’s smart Sarge? He’s going to burst a gasket when you tell him. If he does know the guy, he’ll go straight round there.” Tench looked disappointed at the idea that someone else might get to see Mr O’Donnell before he did.

    Sam gave this some thought. “Perhaps you’re right, but at the least we need to know if the car is familiar to him.” She looked at her watch. It was 4pm on Sunday afternoon. She picked up her phone and rang Lenny’s number.

    He answered on the second ring. “Mr Talbot? Sam Tate; something’s come up which I’d like to talk to you about.” Said Sam.

    After she’d finished her call she turned to Tench. “Let’s pay Mr O’Donnell a visit. And we should take some back up, just in case. Can you organise a couple of uniforms while I update the Inspector?” She’d seen DI Conway staring at them from his desk and knew he was itching to get on her case.

    “If you think we need ‘em.” Said Tench, who clearly didn’t think they needed anyone else.

    “Just in case he runs.” Said Sam, glancing down at Tench’s belly.