Copycat Page 7

  The rest of the instructions trailed off as both women stepped through the still-opening gates without further delay. In the distance, Melanie could already see a man standing in an open doorway, ready to welcome them, she assumed. As instructed by the DI, Chris had only called an hour earlier to request another meeting with a handful of Gibbons’ students and the principal had suggested the detectives come down right away. Chris couldn’t decide whether he was being suspicious or just especially helpful; either way, she was grateful to have the DI in tow.

  ‘Mr Gibbons?’ Mel asked, her hand outstretched in a gesture that seemed to throw the man off guard. Gibbons reciprocated with a slight hesitation, but Melanie tried to hold back on being offended; she didn’t have the time for sentimentality. ‘I hear you’ve got some students for us?’

  ‘Indeed, Detective Inspector, indeed. Before we get to that, I wonder if we might step into my office for a moment?’ Gibbons suggested, gesturing to the open door behind him.

  Melanie leaned round to take a glance before asking, ‘Is there something you need to discuss with us beforehand, Mr Gibbons?’

  ‘I thought we might get acquainted,’ Gibbons replied, with his picture-perfect smile fixed in place again. But his appearance clearly had the same affect on Melanie as it had done on Chris earlier in the week.

  ‘We’re working to quite the timeframe today, Mr Gibbons. Why don’t we talk to the kids first and we’ll see how the ground lies after?’ Melanie said – it was clear she wasn’t asking, despite her intonation. Gibbons’ smile slipped slightly at the corners but to Melanie’s relief, he didn’t resist her suggestion. She followed him through the ground floor of the building after this, with Chris two steps behind. All three held a steady silence until Gibbons reached for the door of a classroom, and Melanie held out a hand to halt him. ‘Can I verify that neither Patrick Nelson nor Eleanor Gregory are present in the class?’

  ‘Of course, of course, as DC Burton requested,’ Gibbons said, looking to Chris.

  Gibbons pushed open the door to reveal a small selection of students, most of whom were too preoccupied with their mobile phones to notice that someone had entered the room. With a sharp cough, Gibbons called to attention the seven students who were present and they all turned to assess both Melanie and Chris.

  Gibbons addressed the class. ‘You are to be honest and helpful toward DI Watton and DC Burton, it goes without saying, I’m sure.’ Once his instructions had been delivered, Gibbons stepped aside and took up watch from the doorway, allowing Melanie the spotlight at the front of the room. Chris was perched on a nearby window ledge, her small notepad at the ready.

  ‘I’m sure you’re all eager to get back to your classes so I’ll try to keep this quick,’ the DI said, with a sarcastic edge to her voice. She was grateful to note the smirked responses around the room; it was always a good start to win them over. ‘We’d like to know a bit more about Jenni Grantham, and we’d be grateful for any information you can tell us. We don’t have pointed questions, but we’re wondering what sort of person she was.’ Melanie left a deliberate beat of silence before pushing with another query. ‘Was she acting differently to usual in the days before her death, did anyone notice?’

  There was a longer silence this time as one student looked to another, encouraging each other to be the first to speak.

  ‘No,’ came a cracked voice from the back of the room. Melanie glanced around to see another young woman; blonde hair, glasses, her shoulders slightly hunched. ‘She didn’t act any differently to me, at least, she was still – she was still just kind Jenni.’

  There was a murmur of agreement around the room and Melanie’s heart sank at the sight of their collective loss.

  ‘You should be talking to Patrick Nelson,’ another voice snapped. A young man wearing a bitter expression. ‘He was the last to see her, wasn’t he?’

  Melanie trod carefully. ‘What makes you say that?’

  ‘It’s common knowledge.’ The young man sat up a little straighter as he spoke. ‘They were together right before it happened, so why don’t you ask him?’

  ‘Alistair, watch your tone,’ Gibbons cautioned from the doorway.

  ‘We’ll be talking to Patrick in due course,’ Melanie said. ‘But for now we’re curious about anything that other people might know?’

  ‘She and Patrick were quite close in the weeks before her death,’ another girl remarked. ‘There was nothing to it though; they were just friends, as far as anyone knew.’

  Melanie looked from the new speaker to the previous one; this Alistair kid didn’t seem convinced by his classmate’s explanation.

  ‘Do you know something different, Alistair?’ Melanie made a point of using his name.

  The young man shot a look at Gibbons before he spoke. ‘All I know is that Jenni was alright six months ago. Then she started knocking around with them, and she wasn’t alright.’

  ‘What do you mean by alright?’ Chris asked but Melanie side stepped Chris’s query.

  ‘Who do you mean by them…?’

  15

  Eleanor Gregory stepped into the investigation room with the awe and wide-eyed excitement of a child visiting Santa’s grotto for the first time. DC Chris Burton held the door open as both Eleanor and her mother, an unimpressed-looking Mrs Gregory, trudged in and without instruction, headed toward the table in the centre of the room.

  DS Edd Carter followed behind them and gave Chris a sharp nod before taking the door from her and closing it. Both officers seated themselves at the table opposite mother and daughter, and made a show of shuffling through their respective piles of paperwork in dutiful silence. Neither of the officers were especially comfortable with the situation; they were used to staring down middle-aged offenders, not seemingly excited college kids, and as Eleanor continued to gaze around the room in wonder, the officers’ discomfort only worsened. Meanwhile, Mrs Gregory huffed and tutted with the impatience of a distant parent; Chris had seen her type before.

  ‘Are you sure that we don’t need a solicitor of some description?’ Mrs Gregory eventually asked, breaking the deliberate silence.

  ‘We don’t think it’s necessary at this stage, no, but if you’d be more comfortable–’

  ‘Is this being recorded?’ Eleanor cut across Edd before he could complete his generic reply. ‘Like, on film or something?’ She looked around the room as she spoke, her eyes eventually narrowing on a small red dot in the upper right corner of the space as she focussed in on the electrical equipment. ‘A-ha.’ Chris turned to verify Eleanor’s spot.

  ‘Yes, there’s audio and visual equipment in the room, so you’ll be recorded,’ Chris explained. ‘Is that okay for you both?’ She glanced at Mrs Gregory as she spoke, but it was really Eleanor’s reaction that interested her. The young woman furiously nodded her approval while her mother gave a raised eyebrow and a curt nod. The recording would show that agreement at least, Chris thought, before setting down her paperwork and laying her hands flat on the table top. ‘So, for the record, I’m DC Chris Burton and this is my colleague DS Edd Carter.’ She gestured to Edd as she spoke. ‘You’ve been asked to come in here today to discuss–’

  ‘So, is he your boss?’ Eleanor asked.

  ‘I’m sorry?’ Chris replied, thrown by the abruptness of the query.

  ‘In the hierarchy of the department, my rank is senior to DC Burton’s, yes,’ Edd replied, his tone neutral. ‘But, in the context of this interview, you’re in safe hands with my colleague taking the lead.’ He gave a tight smile that made Eleanor shift uncomfortably in her seat. Ahead of the interview starting, Chris and Edd had decided they would balance each other out; not so much good cop/bad cop as nice adult/unapproachable adult. ‘She might respond better to a younger woman. No offence, Edd,’ Melanie had advised in the minutes before the interview had started, and both Chris and Edd had taken their boss at her word.

  ‘You think that I can help you?’ Eleanor asked, leaning back in her seat.

  �
��We certainly hope so,’ Chris replied. She took a tactical pause while she pulled out a white sheet of paper from the pile in front of her; the sheet detailed one or two of the search terms that Jenni had googled in the weeks before her death, meanwhile the others were deliberately redacted. ‘We’ve been looking through Jenni’s computer, and we’re still looking, but our early searches have found these.’ Chris pushed the sheet toward the girl as she spoke, and both mother and daughter leaned forward to read the printed text. ‘It looks as though Jenni was doing a lot of research into the Michael Richards murders. Are you familiar with that case yourself?’

  ‘The Michael Richards?’ Mrs Gregory erupted, her interest suddenly caught.

  ‘Yes,’ Chris replied. ‘You’re obviously familiar with the name?’

  Mrs Gregory took another look through the list before answering. ‘Isn’t everyone in this bloody town? I wouldn’t expect the girls to be though.’ She looked at her daughter questioningly before turning back to Chris. ‘Isn’t it a bit before their time?’

  ‘I have heard of those killings though,’ Eleanor added. ‘Jenni had been talking about them.’ Eleanor paused to look down the list. ‘Friggin’ A though, she didn’t say she’d been doing this.’

  ‘So, this isn’t something you were researching together?’ Carter asked and the change in officer seemed to throw Eleanor off balance. She opened her mouth to speak but instead shook her head and looked back down at the list.

  ‘When we saw you at the college, you mentioned that Jenni was dressing as a victim, for Halloween. Do you remember that?’ Chris continued.

  ‘A victim?’ Mrs Gregory looked taken aback. ‘A victim of what?’

  ‘We’re hoping your daughter might be able to answer that for us,’ Edd replied in a deadpan tone, ignoring the glare of the mother in favour of staring down the daughter. Eleanor refused to make eye contact with him though, instead focusing her attention on Chris.

  ‘I actually didn’t say that,’ she said. ‘Patrick did.’

  Chris glanced down as though looking at notes. ‘Ah, of course. Was it the first you’d heard of Jenni’s plan?’

  Eleanor hesitated before answering. ‘No. No, it wasn’t the first I’d heard of it.’

  ‘So, do you know what she was meant to be a victim of?’ Chris pushed.

  ‘No,’ Eleanor answered too quickly, her eyes flicking toward the small recording light. ‘No, I don’t know what she was meant to be a victim of, sorry.’ She spoke directly into the camera, her eye contact with the officer broken. The young girl sighed and shifted in her seat before casting a cautious glance at her mother. Eleanor leaned across, closing the gap between them, and whispered something to her mother that neither officer could hear. Edd and Chris shared a concerned look.

  ‘Is there a problem?’ Edd asked.

  Mrs Gregory looked up before her daughter did. ‘Is Patrick Nelson being questioned about this at some point?’

  ‘Can I ask why you’re asking that?’ Edd’s glance shifted between mother and daughter before settling on Eleanor. ‘Is there something about Patrick and Jenni that we should know about, Eleanor?’

  The young girl sighed and rolled her eyes. ‘It was his idea really. You know, we were going to be the killers, and she was going to be the victim.’ Eleanor looked from one officer to the other. ‘I told you, we were going to be Freddy and Jason, right? You remember that?’ she said, craning over as though to look at Chris’s notes.

  Instinctively, Chris covered the sheet in front of her with a shift of her arm before replying. ‘Yes, we remember that.’ She threw a look at Edd. ‘You’re saying it was Patrick’s idea?’

  Eleanor nodded. ‘It was his idea to do like, a three-way Halloween costume. That’s why Jenni was dressing as a victim. But,’ Eleanor leaned forward to look at Jenni’s history of search terms again. ‘I don’t know what any of this is about though. Like, we didn’t have anything to do with that.’ Eleanor leaned back and folded her arms across her torso.

  ‘So, is there something Patrick can tell us that you can’t?’ Edd pushed, again looking between mother and daughter.

  Eleanor gave a curt laugh. ‘I mean, how could I know that?’ She straightened her posture as she spoke. ‘I know that he feels really guilty about it though. We weren’t even there, and it wasn’t even Halloween and like, I’ve told him it wasn’t our fault, obviously. But, you know, the whole costume thing, and Jenni actually, actually going and…’ Her sentence petered out, as though she were unsure how to finish it, and at that her mother pushed her seat back from the table and moved to stand.

  ‘Are we finished here?’ she asked curtly.

  Edd took a glance at the clock on the opposing wall and gave Chris a nod of approval.

  ‘Yes, thank you for your time, both of you,’ Chris said, rising from her seat. Eleanor and her mother followed, the three women leaving Edd seated alone at the table. ‘I’ll take you back through to reception and one of our officers will see you out,’ Chris continued.

  Edd remained silent while the three headed toward the doorway, only speaking as he heard the door part from the frame. ‘We may need to talk to you again, if that won’t be a problem.’ He didn’t turn to address the comment to either daughter or mother particularly, just kept his head down, flicking through papers as though he were disinterested in any answer that either visitor could give. Behind him, Eleanor flashed a questioning look at Chris who nodded in support of Edd’s comment, and the young woman pushed her way out of the room, not saying another word.

  ‘Thank you again for your time,’ Chris said to Mrs Gregory, depositing her and her daughter back in the reception space before taking a look around the empty chairs of the waiting room. Chris back tracked to the desk sergeant. ‘No one else waiting for DS Carter or myself?’ she asked, turning around for another look. ‘Anyone been in and left?’

  ‘Afraid not. No one since the young lady came in,’ the officer replied, pointing towards Eleanor and her mother who were retreating out of the entranceway.

  ‘Shit.’

  Chris paced back along the corridor at a determined speed, pushing the door open with such a force that it rebounded off the unsuspecting wall behind it. Edd’s head snapped round, his startled expression suggesting that Chris had caught him off guard. ‘Problem?’ he asked.

  ‘Patrick Nelson hasn’t turned up for his interview.’

  ‘Shit.’

  16

  ‘Bollocks,’ DI Melanie Watton snapped into the phone. She leaned back from her uncomfortable makeshift desk and assessed the mess of paperwork in front of her. She had spent the entire day sifting through expired case files relating to Michael Richards, fencing calls from the superintendent at regular intervals, and the DI couldn’t help but feel that her and her team were owed a break already, despite the case still being in its early days. On the other end of the line, DS Edd Carter remained silent, giving his boss time to formulate her thoughts before he could cut her off too soon. ‘Okay. What was the interview with Eleanor like?’

  ‘She’s an interesting kid,’ Edd replied.

  ‘He means odd.’ Chris raised her voice in the background, half-listening to the DS’s conversation with their superior; half-skimming through everything she could find on the Nelson family, which so far wasn’t much.

  ‘Interesting how?’ Melanie pushed.

  ‘The reason Jenni was dressing as a victim for Halloween was because Eleanor and their missing mate Patrick were dressing as Freddy and Jason, and Jenni was their victim. Not based on anyone in particular, by the sounds of it, just making a three-way costume sort of thing–’

  ‘She wasn’t meant to be a Michael Richards victim?’ Melanie interrupted.

  ‘Not according to Eleanor, no. She didn’t seem to know anything about that part of Jenni’s life, also didn’t know that Jenni was showing such an interest in the killings either.’

  ‘Someone knew,’ Melanie absent-mindedly added, again looking over the mound of paperwork that had
built up in front of her over the day. ‘I’m still at George Waller’s office,’ she said, her attention focusing again. She’d spent the day hiding out at Waller’s office for fear of the pressure that working at the station would bring, and it helped to have Waller’s knowledge of the original murders on hand should she need it. ‘It’s been a washout of a day though. I may as well try to get something productive done. Can you text me the Nelson address? I’ll swing by there on my way home; maybe an in-person chat will be weightier than anything done over the phone.’ She exhaled hard and rubbed at her temples where a small wave of pain was starting to roll out beneath her skin; it really had been a long day.

  ‘Do you want one of us to come along?’ Edd offered.

  ‘Thanks, but I’ll be alright.’ She extinguished the call without the courtesy of a goodbye. While she’d appreciate the offer of help on any other day, that day she needed to feel capable of actually getting something done on her own, and an overeager Edd on her coattails was unlikely to help. Melanie stayed seated until the text came through with the address – 24 Marshfield Terrace – and was relieved to see that the Nelson house was only a ten-minute drive away from her own. She collected the mass of papers into something that resembled just the one pile before writing George a quick note – Thanks again for this. M. – and leaving the office.

  Two minutes later she was in her car, engine humming as the condensation on the windscreen gave way, allowing Melanie a line of sight out of the window. She turned the heat up another degree and pulled away into the busy early evening traffic.

  There were lights on inside the Nelson house, which ticked off Melanie’s first concern about the prospect of there being no one at home. On the walk from her car to the front door, she straightened out her shirt – creased from a day of desk work – and cleared her throat. She felt for her ID card in her pocket and then pressed a fingertip firmly against the front doorbell. Melanie counted out five seconds before ringing the bell again. ‘Alright!’ came a curt reply from somewhere inside, and seconds after that the door was snatched open. In the doorway there stood a stout woman; several inches shorter than Melanie, she wore a hairstyle that had been stripped from a 1970s catalogue, but her clothes were modern, albeit plain. Her expression was one of irritation, as though Melanie had interrupted something important, and rather than introduce herself, or even ask Melanie what she wanted, instead the woman merely cocked an eyebrow at the officer, as though this in itself were enough of a greeting.