Kate clapped her hands together for the attention of the incident room. ‘What’s Humberidge saying at the site? Any updates?’

Patel grabbed a note from his desk. ‘They’ve found a shed packed full of garden equipment: spades, forks, buckets, and a lawnmower covered in rust. More interestingly, they’ve also found a patch of lawn that looks recently turned over.’

Kate didn’t want to ask the next question. ‘How big is the hole?’

Patel tried to allay her fears, spreading his arms wide. ‘Humberidge reckons about a metre deep, and half a metre wide.’

‘Not big enough for a body,’ Laura offered.

‘Not in one piece,’ Kate agreed, but they all understood what she was alluding to. ‘Are they digging?’

Patel frowned. ‘The ground is pretty solid from what Humberidge said, but SSD are down there and will excavate the hole as soon as they can.’

‘Can we get sniffer dogs down there? Maybe they could at least indicate if there’s a scent of blood in the ground?’

‘The dog unit is already at the Mottisfont site, ma’am. To be honest, by the time we’d get them to the house, SSD could already be through the top layer.’

Kate nodded, glancing at the clock. ‘It’s nearly two o’clock, so that gives us nineteen hours until we have to release him; unless of course the supe agrees to extend his custody. But he’ll only extend if he believes we have a genuine opportunity to nail the bastard, and as it stands we only have circumstantial evidence at best. Is Jackson still in with his solicitor?’

Patel nodded. ‘Yeah, they broke for half an hour for Jackson to eat lunch, but reconvened immediately after. I’ve no idea what they’re discussing, but if he’s as innocent as he claims, I don’t see why he’d need to talk for so long.’

Kate sighed, feeling they’d never been closer to confirming what had happened to Petr and Maria, but no closer to finding out why. The psychology of the criminal mind fascinated her, particularly when she came up against someone with a psyche as twisted as Jackson’s.

Kate focused back on the three of them. ‘How are we with progressing why Petr and Maria were picked by Jackson?’

Laura shuffled forward on her chair. ‘I’ve been looking into the financial side of things, ma’am. We know that both Petr and Maria weren’t in professions that would make them a lot of money, but we have witnesses who say that both had either received or were about to receive a windfall, right? Sofia said Maria managed to raise ten grand to pay off her pimp, and Petr’s sister said he was going to put a deposit down on a flat for them to rent together. I’ve been going through Jackson’s recent bank statements, courtesy of what Humberidge has scanned and sent over from the house, and there are multiple ATM withdrawals from his personal account. Not in the region of ten grand, but over time, a couple of grand here, a grand there, it could add up. However, we have yet to lay our hands on his business records. From what I can see, he was taking home a considerable monthly sum from the business, which would suggest the company has been doing well.’

‘Define considerable,’ Kate said.

Laura grabbed the statements from her desk and handed them to Kate. ‘I’ve highlighted the figures in question. This month, the company paid him just under four thousand, the month before, just over that figure, and the month before that well over six thousand.’

‘Where are his business accounts?’

‘Humberidge hasn’t found them at the property yet, but is still searching. I’ve put a call in to his bank to request access and am waiting for a call back.’

Kate narrowed her eyes. ‘But even if we can establish he made significant withdrawals from his business account in order to pay them, what was he paying them for?’

‘Maybe he set up business as a loan shark?’ Quinlan offered.

Kate furrowed her brow. ‘I don’t think it fits.’

‘Drugs then?’ Quinlan countered.

‘No evidence to suggest that Jackson has any involvement in that world.’

‘Well, that only leaves sex, ma’am,’ Quinlan concluded. ‘You reckon he goes both ways?’

Kate considered it. ‘We know that Maria was used to selling her body for money. Could he have offered her the money she needed in return for something sexual? According to Imelda Watkins he had an interest in sadomasochism. But the only evidence we have that Maria received the money is Sofia saying their pimp had released Maria from their contract. The money never touched a bank account.’

‘Maria Alexandrou hadn’t used her account for several years,’ Patel advised.

‘And Petr? What do his accounts say?’

‘In the last six months, his only account transactions were the monthly payments received from the cruise company, which he withdrew in whole almost immediately after. No direct debits or debit card payments on the account. There’s obviously a mattress stuffed full of money somewhere.’

Kate fixed Patel with a look. ‘Have we been through Nowakowski’s accommodation yet?’

He shook his head. ‘Humberidge was supposed to be heading there this morning, but with Jackson’s sudden appearance, it hasn’t happened.’

Kate fired a look at Quinlan, who grabbed his coat. ‘On it, ma’am. What are we looking for?’

Kate joined him at the door. ‘Anything that might tell us how he crossed paths with Jackson: computer, tablet, phone, sexual paraphernalia, anything and everything.’ She glanced back at Laura and Patel. ‘Keep digging. We need something to tie our victims and suspect together. I’m sure we’re missing something obvious; I just can’t work out what.’

---

A twenty-minute walk from the city centre, Mountbatten House bordered Southampton Common. Built in the early twentieth century and with gardens to the front and rear of the property, it could house up to twenty individuals and was open to anyone who had fallen on hard times, but was primarily used by former offenders and those trying to kick addiction. A charitable organisation, all residents were required to pay a minimum weekly rent to cover the cost of utilities.

Kate and Quinlan showed their identification to the woman manning the front office, and asked to be taken to Nowakowski’s room.

The woman gave them a sceptical look. ‘We had to give Petr’s room to someone else after he didn’t return a fortnight ago.’

‘What about his possessions? Did he leave anything behind?’

The woman nodded, leading them to a locked door beneath the large staircase. ‘All unclaimed property is locked away in here, and if the individual doesn’t return for it within six months, we reserve the right to reuse or sell what is left.’ Unlocking the door, she held it open for them. ‘That large box is what we collected up, and that large suitcase was also in his room.’

Quinlan leaned in and pulled out the cardboard box, passing it to Kate before drawing out the suitcase.

‘And there’s nothing else?’ Kate asked.

The woman shook her head. ‘The people that stay with us don’t tend to keep a lot of possessions.’

‘Is there somewhere we can look through all this stuff?’

The woman looked at her watch. ‘I’m due on a break. You can use my office for now.’

‘You search the case and I’ll do the box,’ Kate told Quinlan when they were alone.

Reaching in to the box, Kate first pulled out a framed picture of Ana Nowakowski, captured mid-laugh, looking far removed from the distraught woman they’d spoken to at the supermarket on Monday. Beneath that was an antique-looking cigar box, the corners mottled and the label fading. Opening the lid, several loose photos fell to the desk. Kate scooped up and returned them to the cigar box, resting it on the desk. The remaining items in the box included a brown-stained mug, a toothbrush, toothpaste and a dog-eared copy of a spy novel. Kate held the book aloft, looking for any hidden notes between the pages, but nothing fell out.

‘Library book,’ she commented, noticing a stamp inside the cover. ‘What you got?’

Quinlan lifted a pair of underpants from the case with the end of a biro. ‘Underwear, T-shirts and work shirts; none of which smell clean.’

‘No phone, tablet or laptop?’

He shook his head, closing the lid of the case. ‘Maybe SSD can find fibres on some of his clothes. What have you got?’

Kate passed him the cigar box of photos and moved across to the noticeboard hanging from the wall, advertising various support groups for addiction, anxiety and depression. Kate snapped a photograph of each showing dates and times. Both Maria and Petr were trying to improve their lives; was it possible Jackson had met them in such a support group?

‘Ma’am?’ Quinlan suddenly called out. ‘You’d better look at this.’

Kate turned and saw him holding a pile of photographs in one hand, but just one aloft in his other hand. Stepping across, Kate gulped as she stared closer at two of the men in the group shot. ‘Nowakowski knew Liam Phillips?’

Phillips’ cocksure grin stared back at her, an arm draped around Nowakowski’s shoulders, both dressed in shirts and ties, while five other similarly dressed men looked on.

‘Does it say when it was taken?’

Quinlan shook his head. ‘No date or time. Small world, huh?’

She cocked an eyebrow. ‘Getting smaller by the day. Come on, let’s go and ask Liam how he knew our victim.’