“That all seemed genuine, Gus. There was only one red flag that I spotted. I showed John, and he dismissed the bloke as being too much of a stretch.”
“Go on,” said Gus.
“Well, Rachel left home after her mother shacked up with an old boyfriend.”
“Lawrence Wallace,” said Gus. “He gave Rachel the creeps.”
“Wallace didn’t have a record, and there were no cautions or instances where a woman had made a complaint against him. I never met the man, so I can’t comment. Maybe Rachel was right to be cautious. It was Wallace’s son that had a criminal record. Carl Wallace was twenty-eight years old. He had committed a range of offences ever since he was fifteen years old. John looked at the list. I had to agree that Carl never got accused of a violent offence. John thought that if we widened the net far enough, we’d always find a killer related to someone remotely connected to a name on our list of witnesses.”
“The six degrees of separation theory,” said Neil.
“Something like that, Neil,” said Vicky. “Are you married now?”
“To Melody, yes,” said Neil. “We’re expecting our first child. What about you?”
“I was living with someone when I got injured. I was in a dark place after the physical wounds healed, so, I can’t blame my boyfriend for moving out.”
Gus was eager to get the conversation back on track.
“So, you didn’t chase up this Carl Wallace character to check he wasn’t on Trowle Common that night?” asked Gus.
“John wanted to test other theories closer to home. He thought it was more likely that Gerry Hogan had frittered away someone’s life savings in a dodgy investment scheme. That’s all the time I can spare, Gus. I have no more to add, and I need to get back to the office.”
Vicky stepped out from under the tree and started to walk away.
Gus walked beside her, with Neil following two yards behind them.
“Look, Vicky, we know what happened to you back in 2015,” said Gus. “You joined the police to protect and to serve the public. You felt that both the public, and the police had abandoned you to the mob after you suffered those injuries during the protest march.”
“The situation was grave three years ago, Gus. It’s a darn sight worse now. There’s no chance of any protest being peaceful. Where are they held? Ninety percent of them are in cities, which makes them nigh on impossible to police. There are so many inter-connecting streets for people to join the marchers. The original organisation that arranged the march with the police might attract tens of thousands of peaceful souls on the day. Then all sorts of pond life crawl out from under rocks and get onto their What’s App group to publicise their battle plan. They know how we police protests, Gus. Everything we do is choreographed. Extremists, anarchists, racists, you name it, they know every tactic, every weakness, and once they’ve infiltrated the crowd, they change the nature of the protest. It’s not random. They plan every step. Before the hour is out, you’ve got a riot on your hands.”
“You were a great loss to the force, Vicky,” said Gus. “The work you’re doing here with this independent charity is commendable, but I wish there were a way that we could have found a role for you within the police, away from the front line..”
The trio reached the main street, and Vicky prepared to cross the road.
“This is where we go our separate ways, Gus,” she said. “Nice to bump into you again, Neil.”
“Don’t give up on us just yet, Vicky,” said Gus.
With that, Vicky Bennison gave them a brief smile and dashed across the road.
“A troubled young woman, guv,” said Neil. “I don’t think you’ll persuade her to come back to the fold.”
“Maybe not, Neil,” said Gus. “I’ll talk to Suzie later. Perhaps she can get through to her.”
CHAPTER 12
Gus and Neil returned to the car park and headed out of Abingdon towards the motorway.
“Do you think DI Kirkpatrick was too hasty in dismissing this Carl Wallace, guv?”
“I don’t like coincidences, Neil,” said Gus. “The first thing to do is to find out where he is now. He could be inside. Who knows? We can have a chat, check his whereabouts in May 2012, and move on if there’s nothing there. I’ll call Alex. He can start the ball rolling.”
“What could be his motive anyway, guv?” said Neil. “If Carl still lived in Surrey, why travel a hundred miles to speak to Gerry Hogan? How would he know Hogan in the first place? Six degrees of separation is about right.”
“It made more sense if he’d asked for Rachel,” said Gus. “Lawrence Wallace lived with Rachel’s mother. Or at least he did when Rachel left home. That situation could have changed by 2012. I should have asked her about that when we spoke the other morning.”
“It wasn’t something that appeared relevant, guv,” said Neil. “We didn’t know this Carl fellow existed until ten minutes ago. Although Rachel thought Lawrence was a creep, he wasn’t still with Carl’s mother by the sound of it. Carl could have left home already by then. His parents would have thrown him out if he was as much trouble as Vicky reckoned.”
“We’ll chase it up, Neil, just in case,”
Gus called Alex and passed on the message.
“They’ve received the information from the Hub, Neil,” said Gus. “They’re working on it as we speak.”
“We should get back to the office by two-fifteen at the latest, guv,” said Neil.
“Just under three hours to find a break in this case,” said Gus. “I would have liked to have closed it by now. It would have made our night at the Waggon & Horses that much better.”
Neil made it back to the
