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A DCI Anna Tate Crime Thriller
As Anna spoke an image of the body resurfaced in her mind and it sent a chill down her spine. It was such a tragedy that a girl who obviously had so much going for her should end her life in such horrendous circumstances.
‘The obvious questions are these,’ Anna said. ‘Who killed her and why? When and where was the murder carried out? Why was the body dumped in that particular place? Was it because the killer was in a hurry or simply didn’t worry about it being discovered? And why was she stripped, since there seems to be no evidence as yet that she was sexually assaulted?’
At this point Anna handed over to Walker, who was standing off to one side with a notebook in his hand.
‘I’ve already drawn up a list of checks that need to be carried out right away,’ he said. ‘So I’m afraid you will all be working late into the night.’ He looked down at his notes as he ran a hand across his bald head. ‘We need to pull Holly’s phone records and get the techies to go through her social media history. We know she’s been busy on Facebook for years. So check out Twitter, Instagram and the others.
‘There’s plenty of information online about her, including the fact that she’s on the books of a London-based modelling agency. From what I’ve seen it doesn’t appear that she was a hugely successful model. But she’s done jobs for fashion magazines, clothing catalogues and swimwear companies. Let’s also check all CCTV cameras around the common. Presumably her body was driven to the spot sometime on Tuesday or maybe early on Wednesday morning.’
Walker then handed back to Anna, who signalled for DC Fellows to change the image on the TV monitor. Holly’s photo was replaced by a picture of a woman who looked like an older version of her. She had the same oval face, full lips and well-defined jawline.
‘This is Holly’s mother,’ Anna said. ‘As I’m sure you all know her name is Rebecca Blake, and she’s the reason that we’re going to be under pressure like never before. And that pressure won’t just come from the media. It will also come from the top brass in the Met and from the Home Office. At this stage we have no idea why Holly Blake was murdered. But we can’t rule out the possibility that it had something to do with her mother.’
CHAPTER SEVEN
Having read the article in the Evening Standard, Sophie was struggling to keep her emotions in check. The words had proved as shocking as the three photographs that covered half the page.
She continued to sit there in the clinic’s reception, her breath stalled as the blood pounded in her ears.
She didn’t want to believe the evidence of her own eyes, but she had no choice. The facts, as laid out, spoke for themselves. They revealed a story that was both sensational and tragic. A story that revolved around a London police officer named Anna Tate.
The woman’s photograph was the largest of the three that had been published to help illustrate the article. Sophie squinted at what she considered to be a plain, unremarkable face. Tate had sharp features and dark hair down to her shoulders. She was in her early forties, according to the paper, but looked older.
Sophie let out her breath and returned her attention to the beginning of the article. She re-read it because her mind had struggled to take it all in the first time.
But as soon as she started her anxiety grew, and a hard knot formed in her stomach.
A MOTHER’S TEN YEAR NIGHTMARE
An Evening Standard two-part exclusive
DCI Anna Tate is the detective in charge of the Major Investigation Team based in South London.
She made headlines two weeks ago when she led the hunt for the kidnappers of nine children from a nursery school in Rotherhithe.
During the investigation it came to light that ten years ago her own two-year-old daughter Chloe was abducted and is still missing.
Thanks to an extraordinary twist of fate the kidnapping case has led to a dramatic development in the search for Chloe – but it has also raised fresh fears over the girl’s safety.
Anna has told her story to the Standard because she believes that the more people who know about it the more chance there is that she’ll one day be reunited with her daughter, who is now twelve.
Sophie’s throat tightened suddenly and for a few seconds she had to fight to get the air into her lungs.
The words on the page became blurred so she closed her eyes and willed herself to stay calm despite the panic that had seized her chest.
She was briefly tempted to stop reading and to throw the paper in the bin. But she knew that wasn’t an option. She had exposed herself to a cold, hard truth and there was no way she could run from it.
She snapped her eyes open and forced herself to take each breath slowly and carefully as she continued to read.
Detective Anna Tate’s nightmare began one day in July 2009, six months after she divorced her husband, Matthew Dobson, because of his adultery. He’d been trying to persuade her to take him back but she’d refused. As a result he decided to seek revenge.
He regularly looked after their daughter as part of a joint custody arrangement. But on that day he failed to take Chloe home when he was supposed to. Instead he disappeared with her and sent Anna a text message which read:
You won’t let us be a family again because I made a stupid mistake. So I’m starting my life afresh with my lovely daughter. Don’t bother trying to find us because you never will. You have yourself to blame, Anna. You should have known that I wouldn’t let you have a happy life if I couldn’t be a part of it … M
Anna discovered that he had packed in his job, sold his car and moved out of his flat. As Anna’s police colleagues launched a hunt for Dobson and his daughter, it was feared he had taken her abroad.
Horrific
Anna heard nothing for ten years, but she didn’t give up searching for Chloe. She ran various social media campaigns which included a dedicated FindChloe Facebook page and website. And she hired a private investigator to try to find them.
Then, just over two weeks ago, came the horrific abductions of the children from the Peabody Nursery School. Anna appeared on the television news and among the millions of people who saw her was a man named Paul Russell. He was compelled to contact her and his message was:
If you can find the time to come and see me I can tell you what I know about your daughter and her father. And I can apologise for the part I played in what happened ten years ago.
Anna went to see Paul Russell in a London hospice where he has since died of cancer. But in what amounts to a deathbed confession he revealed to Anna that he used to be a master forger who provided fake documents to criminals, illegal immigrants and anyone else who was willing to pay him.
Passports
Anna’s ex-husband was one of his customers. Matthew Dobson wanted fake passports for himself and his daughter. Russell produced them for him in the names of James and Alice Miller.
This was a significant development as far as Anna was concerned, but another staggering revelation was to follow. Russell told her that Dobson had contacted him three years ago asking for more fake documents because he and Chloe were returning to the UK from whichever country they had been living in.
Anna passed on this information to her private investigator who went on to find out that James Miller (aka Matthew Dobson) did indeed come back to the UK three years ago. However, shortly after setting up home in Southampton he was murdered.
Anna went to see the detective who led the murder investigation. She had lots of questions for him but the most important was: ‘Now you need to tell me what’s happened to my baby. Where is Chloe?’
Find out what DCI Anna Tate was told in tomorrow’s Evening Standard.
By the time Sophie had finished reading the article her eyes were brimming with tears and her mind was dull with shock. She also felt dizzy, nauseous, as though she were about to pass out.
To stop that happening she made herself stand up and walk unsteadily across reception to the toilet. Once inside she leaned over the sink and splashed cold water on her face. The feeling of nausea receded but her head continued to spin as a wave of despair washed over her.
She got another shock when she saw herself in the mirror. She was deathly white and the fearful expression in her eyes was evidence of the sense of dread that now consumed her.
She had only read the first instalment of the Anna Tate story. On the way back to the flat she intended to pick up today’s edition of the Evening Standard. And she knew with a high degree of certainty that it would contain more devastating details about the considerable threat she now faced.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Anna received two calls in quick succession minutes after she’d finished briefing the team.
The first she answered as she and Walker were exiting the building on their way to break the news of Holly’s death to her parents. It was DCS Nash. He wanted to tell her that he had spoken to Police Commissioner Gary Trimble, the Met’s supreme leader.
‘He’ll be calling you himself for an update,’ Nash said. ‘So be prepared. He wants to impress on you how sensitive this case is going to be.’
‘Well, he won’t be telling me anything I don’t already know, sir,’ Anna said.
‘Obviously, but just so you know, he asked me if I was sure that you’re the right person for the job.’
‘Really? Why was that?’
A moment’s hesitation, then: ‘He mentioned those new developments in respect of your daughter. He’s read what’s appeared in the Evening Standard and he’s aware that Channel Four are looking to do a documentary. Whilst he has every sympathy for you he’s concerned that it will prove to be a distraction.’
‘Well, it won’t be,’ Anna said.
‘Which is exactly what I told him. I said you had my full support. So don’t let me down.’
‘I won’t, sir.’
Anna had just closed the passenger door of the pool car when her phone rang again. Before she answered it she clicked on her seat belt and told Walker to start driving.
‘Good evening, Commissioner,’ she said. ‘Detective Chief Superintendent Nash told me to expect a call.’
Trimble had been in the job for a year and this was only the second time that Anna had spoken to him. She had a lot of respect for the man because he had risen to such dizzy heights by the relatively tender age of forty-five.
‘First I need to know if you’re certain that the body that’s been found on Barnes Common is that of Holly Blake,’ Trimble said without preamble.
‘There’s little doubt, I’m afraid,’ Anna told him. ‘We’ve downloaded a bunch of pictures of Holly from the internet. There’s a definite match and in one of them you can see a tattoo on her back. The victim has the same tattoo in the same position.’
‘Has her mother been informed?’
‘I’m on my way to do that now, Commissioner.’
‘Well, rather you than me, detective,’ Trimble said. ‘Rebecca and I go back a long way from her time on the force. So I know she’s going to be absolutely devastated. She doted on her daughter.’
‘How well do you know Mrs Blake, sir?’ Anna asked.
‘We were colleagues, but we never got together outside work,’ Trimble said. ‘Since she left the Met our paths have crossed several times at various functions. The last time was earlier this year when I shared a table with Rebecca and her husband Theo at an awards dinner.’
‘Theo Blake’s a lawyer, isn’t he?’
‘He’s a senior partner in a firm of solicitors. I take it you know that he was Holly’s stepfather. He married Rebecca four years ago after she divorced her first husband.’
‘I wasn’t aware of that,’ Anna said. ‘There’s a lot I need to find out about everyone in Holly’s life.’
‘Well, bear in mind that as a former Assistant Commissioner in the Met, Rebecca Blake has a lot of friends on the force. She was popular among her colleagues and I’ve no doubt they’ll all want to help with the investigation.’
‘I met her myself once,’ Anna said. ‘It was shortly after my daughter was abducted. She offered to help in any way she could.’
‘She’s a very generous and caring person,’ Trimble said. ‘That’s why she’s doing so well as a politician. But this tragedy is bound to have a serious impact on her life and that includes her bid to become the Mayor of London.’
The involvement of any politician in a major investigation always created problems – from the amount of publicity they generated to the pressure they sought to apply when they felt threatened.
But Rebecca Blake wasn’t just any politician. She already had the ear of the Prime Minister and was set to be a high-flyer in political circles.
At present she held the influential post of Leader of the Conservative-controlled Westminster Council. It was a position she took up after retiring from the police. In addition she was now the Tory Party’s chosen candidate in the forthcoming election for the role of London’s Mayor.
The main thrust of her campaign had been a commitment to substantially reduce crime in the capital, something the current incumbent had failed to achieve after almost four years in office.
‘I’ll make a point of contacting Rebecca myself tomorrow,’ Trimble said. ‘It might reassure her to know that I’m taking a personal interest.’
‘Of course, sir,’ Anna said. ‘But before you go there’s something I need to mention.’
‘What is it?’
‘Well, it’s early days and so we don’t know why Holly was murdered. The motive might become evident very quickly, but if it doesn’t then I think we should explore the possibility that it was committed by someone who has a grudge against the mother. I’m sure that like the rest of us on the force Mrs Blake made enemies along the way and it could be that one of them wants to see her suffer. Or maybe the aim is to stop her becoming London’s Mayor because of her crusade against crime.’
‘It’s a plausible theory, DCI Tate,’ Trimble said. ‘And I’m sure it’s one that will fuel the inevitable media frenzy. But it’s a line of enquiry that I want us to play down unless we come across some solid evidence to support it.’
‘Understood, sir.’
‘Meanwhile I’ll expect you to provide me with regular updates via DCS Nash. And it goes without saying that you’ll have all the manpower and resources you need to crack this case. Just don’t lose sight of the fact that every move you make will be scrutinised, and not just by me. I know you were under considerable pressure during the nursery kidnap investigation, but this will be a different kind of pressure and on some levels it will be even more intense.’
‘So what’s the word from on high?’ Walker asked after Anna came off the phone to the Commissioner.
‘He warned me to tread carefully, keep him in the loop and expect a lot of pressure,’ she said.
‘Well, that was to be expected given who the victim’s mother is.’
‘Yeah, I suppose.’
‘So why do I get the impression that you’re mightily pissed off, guv?’
Anna heaved a sigh. ‘He had the bloody cheek to ask Nash if I was the right person to head up the investigation. If the boss hadn’t assured him that I was then I’d probably be on my way home now.’
Walker frowned. ‘I don’t understand. Does Trimble actually think the case is too sensitive for you to handle?’
‘It’s not that. Nash said he raised the issue of Chloe and he’s worried that I’ll take my eye off the ball because of all the new stuff. He’s read the Evening Standard piece and has been told that I’ve been approached by C4.’
‘C4?’
‘Channel Four,’ Anna said. ‘They want to do a true crime programme on me.’
‘Bloody hell, guv. That’s a huge deal. Why haven’t you mentioned it?’
‘I only found out myself just before we left the office to go to the common. I pushed it to the back of my mind for obvious reasons.’
They stopped at traffic lights and Walker turned to face her.
‘Then in all fairness, you can’t blame the Commissioner for being a teensy bit concerned,’ he said. ‘I’ve told you before that there are times when even I don’t know how the hell you manage to stay focused on the job.’
Anna gave him a sharp look, so he quickly added, ‘And before you go off on one, guv, just remember that we’ve had this conversation several times so you know that I have a point. You also know that I trust you to do a good job on every case despite the fact that you have more on your plate than anyone deserves.’
His words took the wind out of her sails, so instead of snapping at him, she said, ‘You’re the only person I know who would dare say that to me, Max. And the only person who’d get away with it.’
‘Well, I like to think that’s because we’re friends as well as colleagues,’ he said. ‘And friends say it like it is whilst remaining loyal to each other.’
Anna shook her head and smiled. ‘You do have a way with words, Max. I’ll grant you that. And I bet your wife finds it so bloody annoying.’
He laughed. ‘She sure does, but she puts up with it because she knows I’m always right.’
‘You smug bastard.’
The pair enjoyed a good working relationship, and Anna knew that Walker would always have her back. For instance, two years ago she received an anonymous tip that a man matching her ex-husband’s description had been spotted in a Paris suburb. It was during a big murder investigation and she knew her superiors would not have let her take time off to check it out. So she confided in Walker and he told her to go there and then covered for her. They stayed in touch by phone and she returned to London forty-eight hours later after it turned out the man in question wasn’t Matthew after all.
Walker was one of the few people who had encouraged her never to give up searching for her daughter. Most were of the opinion that it had become a pointless obsession and that she needed to get on with her life and accept that she would never see Chloe again.
Walker understood how she felt, mainly because he had two young daughters of his own. She couldn’t help feeling jealous of him, though, and of her other colleagues in MIT who were mothers and fathers. Whenever they talked about their kids it reinforced the extent of her loss.
Walker was more sensitive to her feelings than the rest of them. He said to her once, ‘I can feel your pain, ma’am. I really don’t know how I’d cope if I was in your position. I’m not sure I’d even have the strength to carry on.’
Anna carried on because for her giving up was not an option. However, there had been times over the past ten years when she’d almost convinced herself that she was wasting her time.
In the months after Matthew abducted Chloe it was easy to believe that they’d be found or that Matthew would accept that he was in the wrong and bring her back from wherever he’d taken her.
At that time everyone was rooting for the heartbroken mother and the story was attracting a lot of publicity. Thousands of people reacted to her social media campaigns and appeals, and there was good reason to hope that she would be reunited with Chloe before her daughter’s third birthday. But interest in the story eventually waned and the abduction became old news.
In a little while Chloe would be thirteen and still Anna had no idea where she was. All she did know for certain was that she was no longer with her father because he was murdered three years ago in a park in Southampton.
CHAPTER NINE
Rebecca Blake and her husband lived in Pimlico, a small, upscale residential area of London bordered by Westminster and Belgravia. Scores of politicians had homes there because the quiet streets were within walking distance of the Houses of Parliament. The three-storey property owned by Rebecca and Theo Blake was in a cobbled mews close to St George’s Square.
It was approaching nine p.m. when Anna and Walker arrived in the pool car and parked in front of the blue-painted garage. The lights were on inside so Anna thought it likely that the couple were at home.
As she climbed out of the car her stomach churned at the thought of what they were about to do. No matter how many times she had delivered the devastating news of a person’s death it had never got any easier. And it was made worse this time because she had met the woman whose life she was about to ruin.
It was Theo Blake who answered the door. Anna recognised him at once from the photos she’d seen on the web. He was a tall, rakishly handsome man who looked to be in his mid-fifties. Grey stubble bristled on his head and chin, and his corduroy trousers and black cardigan gave him the rumpled appearance of an academic.
Anna had already taken her ID from her pocket and she held it up for him to see.
‘Hello, Mr Blake,’ she said. ‘I’m Detective Chief Inspector Anna Tate and this is my colleague, Detective Inspector Max Walker. We need to talk to you and your wife. Is Mrs Blake in right now?’
Theo cocked his head to one side and frowned. ‘Is this about Holly? Has she turned up?’
‘It would be best if we spoke to you inside and together,’ Anna said. ‘So please may we come in?’
The man’s face clouded with confusion.
‘This sounds ominous,’ he said. ‘Can’t you just tell me what …’
‘Who is it, dear? Is there a problem?’
He snapped his head towards the voice, which belonged to his wife. She had stepped into the hallway behind him while tying up the belt of a long silk bathrobe.
When she saw them she froze, and her eyes grew wide.
‘What’s going on?’ she said.
Her husband started to speak, but Anna beat him to it.
‘We’re police officers, Mrs Blake, and we need to have a word with you and your husband. It’s about your daughter. My name is Anna Tate and I’m a DCI with the Major Investigation Team. And this is DI Walker.’
Anna didn’t wait to be invited in and she had no intention of breaking the news to them at the door. As she stepped over the threshold, she gently grasped Theo’s arm and nudged him along the hallway while Walker closed the front door behind them.
‘Can I suggest that we go into the living room,’ she said.
Rebecca’s mouth fell open and Anna could see the panic in her eyes.
‘What’s happened?’ the woman said, her lips trembling. ‘Do you know where Holly is? Please tell me she’s all right.’
‘I’ll tell you everything I know, Mrs Blake, but I really think you need to sit down first.’
Theo hurried forward and put his arm around his wife’s shoulders, easing her back into the room she had emerged from.
‘Stay calm, Becs, and don’t jump to conclusions,’ he told her.
Anna felt a wave of heat roll up her chest as she followed them into the living room, which was large and airy with stylish grey furniture and patio doors that gave access to a neat walled garden.
She waited for them to sit side by side on the leather sofa before sitting opposite them on a matching armchair. Walker stood off to one side with his hands behind his back.
It was almost ten years since Anna’s brief meeting with Scotland Yard’s former Assistant Commissioner. She’d seen her many times since then on the television promoting various causes as well as her own political career. It had always struck Anna how little the woman had seemed to age. But now, seen close up without make-up, Rebecca Blake looked all of her fifty-three years.
She was a thin woman with a small oval face and dark hair that was tied back. Her nose was pointed and delicate with slightly flared nostrils. As her teal-blue eyes shifted between the two detectives, she pressed her lips together, which etched deep lines around her mouth.