Once at Southwark, realising that there was no transport available to her destination, she continued to head south, joining up with Old Kent Road. Another two miles, and she boarded a bus. She smiled to herself as she sat in its warmth and the comfort, thinking how easy it was for her to fool the police.
Chapter 29
Nothing had changed from what Charlotte could see, apart from Beaty, her friend, the only person who had cared for her, being dead and buried in the local churchyard. Although not religious, Charlotte visited the grave, placing on it some flowers which she had purchased from a florist.
‘Cathy,’ a voice startled Charlotte. It was a name she had not used since she had lived with Beaty.
‘Mrs Jenkins, how are you?’
‘Fine. We haven’t seen you for a long time.’ The woman had been a friend of Beaty and Charlotte, or Cathy as she was known then. Charlotte remembered that she had bad eyesight, surprised that she had recognised her, and that she never watched television or read a newspaper, which was as well.
‘I couldn’t stay after what happened.’
‘I know. We were all fond of Beaty, although she preferred you to all of us,’ Mrs Jenkins said.
‘I was so upset I had to leave that day. Not only Beaty but Felix.’
‘His grave’s still in the garden. Do you want to visit?’
‘Yes, please,’ Charlotte replied. ‘I hope Beaty won’t mind, but I’ll take one of her flowers for Felix.
‘I’m sure she won’t.’
Mrs Jenkins, a similar age to Beaty, chatted away as they walked the short distance to Beaty’s cottage. She gave Charlotte all the gossip: who had married whom, who had left whom, even who was having an affair. She even updated Charlotte on the boyfriend she’d had in the town, and that he had married and was now the father of twins. Charlotte felt as though she had come home.
Beaty’s cottage was now occupied by a couple from London who had relocated to avoid the hustle and bustle of the big city. They invited the two women in for tea. Charlotte put on some sunglasses and darkened her face with tanning cream, remembered it from when she had left some years ago, although the furniture had changed, and Felix the cat had been replaced by Ben, the Jack Russell Terrier, who instinctively liked her and came and sat beside her. Charlotte patted the dog and remembered Felix the cat and Beaty; a tear came to her eye. ‘Pleasant memories,’ she said, which was true.
She gave a thought to her past and could feel no anger, only regret about what she had done. She wanted to stay in that chair with that dog and that open fire forever.
‘Stay the night,’ the couple said.
‘Thank you. Too many memories here for me, but thanks all the same.’
Charlotte went out to Felix’s grave. Even though there were new owners, the small cross she had put there was still in place. She tidied the area surrounding it and laid the single flower on the grave.
She said a little prayer and silently mouthed a few words. ‘Forgive me Beaty and Felix for what I have done. You were the only two that loved me, I know that now.’
***
Isaac returned from Richard Goddard’s office to find the new man in place – Detective Chief Inspector Seth Caddick. He had arrived early.
‘Pleased to meet you, DCI Caddick,’ Isaac said as he shook the man’s hand firmly.
‘Fine mess you’ve got yourself into here,’ was the reply from the man, a Welsh accent unmistakable. ‘You’d better bring me up to speed if I’m to catch this woman. How many have died now?’
‘Six, possibly seven.’
‘It’s not going to look good on your record, is it?’ Caddick’s reply.
Isaac, a man not willing to judge people too harshly on first meeting, could only come up with one conclusion: he didn’t like him. To Isaac, who was willing to encourage and only criticise when necessary, his replacement was the complete opposite. Isaac studied the man more carefully than when he had first walked in the door. Caddick was as tall as he was; although he carried at least another twenty pounds, it was muscle, not flab. He had a full head of hair, although it was greying at the sides. Isaac judged his age to be about forty-five.
‘Where’s your team, apart from the one who was stabbed?’
‘Out looking for Charlotte Hamilton.’
‘Do they have a plan or are they just aimlessly wandering around?’
‘They’re professionals. They don’t just wander around,’ Isaac’s curt reply.
‘Maybe, but I’ll be bringing in some of my people in the next couple of days, to deal with this Charlotte Hamilton woman.’
‘Your prerogative, DCI,’ Isaac said.
‘I’ll need your office.’
‘I’ll move out for you.’
Isaac found a desk close to Larry’s and settled himself there. He could see Caddick making himself at home. He was on the phone, not attempting to lower his voice. ‘No worries, commissioner. I’ll soon lick this team into shape.’
Isaac had judged the man correctly; he was a sycophant who ingratiated himself with his superiors at every opportunity.
Larry entered the office, a look of surprise on his face at seeing his DCI sitting at the desk next to his. He looked over at Isaac’s old office, saw the new man in place. He rolled his eyes at Isaac; Isaac nodded.
‘Detective Inspector Larry Hill, sir.’ Larry introduced himself to the new man.
‘Caddick, DCI Caddick,’ the man replied. He shook Larry’s hand with a bear-like grip.
‘Pleased to meet you.’
‘Where have you been?’ It seemed to Larry a criticism, not a question.
‘I’ve been with our people trying to find out where Charlotte Hamilton has disappeared to.’
‘From what
