Stalkers

‘Can I take your coat?’

‘Oh yes, ta.’ He stood up, shrugged off his anorak, handed it to her, and sat again.

‘So how can I help you?’ Blenkinsop asked, waiting until the door to his secretary’s office had closed, and doing his level best to suppress the growing fear that this venerable old policeman instilled in him.

‘Just a few questions, Sir.’

Blenkinsop was even more unnerved to see that the visitor had already opened a notebook and produced a pen. ‘You say you’re from the National …’

‘National Crime Group, yes. The Serial Crimes Unit, to be exact.’

‘Serial Crimes …’ Blenkinsop struggled to keep the quaver from his voice. ‘I thought the Thames Valley Police were looking for Mrs Jennings?’

‘Funny you should mention Mrs Jennings, Sir. I didn’t.’

‘Is that not why you’re here?’ Blenkinsop tried not to sound too hopeful. ‘Sorry, it’s just that there’s been quite a lot of police activity here in the last few days …’

‘Yes, that is why I’m here.’ Palliser continued to smile, making no apology for the semi-deception.

‘I see.’

‘Do you know Mrs Jennings well?’

‘I know who she is, she knows who I am. That’s about it, really.’

‘Do you find her attractive?’

‘I’m sorry?’

Palliser shrugged. ‘Simple question, Sir. Do you find her attractive?’

Blenkinsop’s lips had dried and tightened to the point where he thought they might crack. ‘Who wouldn’t? She was a very good-looking woman.’

‘Was?’

‘Is … I mean is, obviously. Look, inspector, I don’t see what this …’

‘Mr Blenkinsop, we’ve interviewed quite a few staff here at Goldstein amp; Hoff already.’ Palliser checked his notebook. ‘I understand that you’re one of them.’

‘We’ve all helped in any way we can.’

‘Hmm. Was it mentioned to you when you were interviewed that, several times in the recent past, Mrs Jennings confided in friends that she felt you might have amorous intentions towards her?’

Even with everything else, Blenkinsop was stunned by that. ‘What? No!’

Palliser tut-tutted. ‘An oversight by the detective who spoke to you, obviously. Sorry about that.’

‘It’s ridiculous.’

‘Mrs Jennings apparently told a couple of her colleagues in the Compliance department that she thought you, quote, “fancied her”.’

‘I don’t know how she could have got such an idea.’

Palliser eyed him. ‘But you’ve just told me you find her attractive?’

‘There’s a difference between that and making an approach to someone.’

‘I didn’t say you’d made an approach.’

For the first time in several days, the outrage Blenkinsop felt was genuine. He was quite sure that he’d never said or done anything to give anyone this impression. He had of course fancied Louise Jennings — to such a degree that he’d been willing to turn his life upside down in order to ‘have’ her — but there was still enough of the self- righteous citizen left inside him to be affronted by the notion that he might have lacked sufficient self-control to keep this concealed.

‘Inspector Palliser, I’m a married man. I never signalled anything of the sort to Mrs Jennings, who, as I told you, I barely knew … I mean know.’

Palliser mused. ‘Maybe you did it unconsciously? I mean, women have an intuition for this sort of thing, don’t they?’

‘They may think they have.’

‘Well that’s a good point.’ Palliser closed his notebook. ‘It may be that Mrs Jennings was just flattering herself.’

‘Inspector, may I ask … am I under suspicion for something?’

‘Not really, Sir. But you must understand, we have to cover every possibility, no matter how minor or unimportant it may seem.’

‘Minor and unimportant? And that job’s been given to a detective inspector from the National Crime Group?’

‘If you don’t mind my saying, that seems to be bothering you rather a lot, Sir.’

‘Not at all … it’s not bothering me in the least. Well, I mean obviously this sad business is. I hope it sorts itself out and that you catch whoever abducted Mrs Jennings as soon as possible.’

Palliser raised an eyebrow. ‘It’s your opinion that she’s been abducted then?’

Blenkinsop cursed himself. Everything he said put him in a worse light. ‘I assume that’s what it is.’

‘As you probably appreciate, Sir, we can’t afford to make such an assumption. As yet, there’s no evidence that she’s been abducted.’

‘Maybe she’s just run away from home.’

‘We can only hope that’s the case.’

‘Wasn’t she supposed to be in her car at the time?’

Palliser nodded. ‘We’ve traced her movements to Gerrards Cross railway station, where we believe she left the car park in her own vehicle.’

Blenkinsop tried to sound as if he was encouraged by this. ‘If her car vanished too … maybe that’s a good sign?’

‘Maybe.’

‘You haven’t recovered her car then?’

Palliser stood up and pocketed his notebook. ‘I can’t really comment on details of the investigation.’

‘No, of course not.’

‘Well, thanks for your time. Sorry to have bothered you.’ Halfway to the door, Palliser stopped. ‘Just out of interest, would you be agreeable to providing us with a sample of your DNA?’

Blenkinsop went cold. ‘What?’

‘You wouldn’t need to go to a police station. I can have an officer come and do it here.’

Blenkinsop was stumped, not to say horrified. Surely they wouldn’t ask for his DNA unless they had something? ‘You … you said I wasn’t a suspect,’ he stammered.

‘I’m not requiring you to provide your DNA, Sir, just asking. It would help eliminate you from the enquiry.’

‘Why should I need to be eliminated?’

‘It doesn’t matter.’ Palliser waved it aside. ‘Thanks for your time, Mr Blenkinsop. No doubt we’ll be in touch.’

‘Erm … right.’

Blenkinsop almost stumbled as he followed Palliser across the office. They entered the next room in time to find Sally quickly hanging up her phone — almost too quickly. And why not? Blenkinsop thought bitterly. A girl had gone missing and the police seemed to be interested in him. The tittle-tattle machine would be working overtime. That was all he needed. Not that it was the worst of his problems at present. Once the policeman had put his coat on and left, Blenkinsop went back into his office — and had to make a beeline to his private bathroom, where he copiously vomited into the toilet bowl.

Palliser left the building with mixed feelings.

He’d learned about Blenkinsop supposedly fancying Louise Jennings through a statement taken by Thames Valley from one of her fellow secretaries in Compliance. It had been a throwaway comment, a nothing piece of intel — Blenkinsop had no reputation for being a creep or a stalker. But Louise had apparently thought that he kept a more than friendly eye on her as she strolled the company corridors. In itself this was valueless as evidence, but taken with Blenkinsop’s apparent unease at being questioned