When they had confirmation of where Scott was, the tactical entry team got them into his property as discreetly as possible using a drill as opposed to a battering ram, since they didn’t want to risk alerting anyone else if at all possible. Although it was still loud, no one appeared to notice them in the fading light. Jessica supposed that, given the area, the last thing most people wanted to do was question their neighbours about why they might be making so much noise.
Three other members of the search team entered first, with Jessica and Cole at the rear, leaving one final person to hold the door closed from the inside and at least give the impression it hadn’t been forced.
The front door opened directly into a living room. As the other officers moved into the rest of the property, Jessica and Cole began in the lounge.
‘I don’t get why we didn’t just arrest him?’ Jessica whispered.
‘Why are you whispering?’ the chief inspector replied out loud, although not quite at full volume.
Jessica moved across to a cabinet next to the television and opened the top drawer. Inside were rows of computer games. ‘Why don’t we just arrest him?’ she repeated.
‘The super reckons that if we’re wrong, it’s easier to apologise for a mix-up here than it is to be sued for wrongful arrest. It’s cover-your-back thinking.’
That sounded about right, though Jessica didn’t reply, seeing as he might as well have said ‘if you’re wrong’.
As she closed the drawer and looked around, she thought Scott’s flat was typical of someone his age. There was a large television, with various electrical items underneath, but little else in the way of decor. She tried to remember what her priorities might have been when she was in her early twenties but it seemed such a long time ago.
She left the chief inspector in the living room, walking through the closest door into what turned out to be a kitchen. Her eyes were drawn to the grubby rings on the top of the cooker. She skimmed through the cupboards, not looking for anything specifically – even if the array of dry and tinned foods was unerringly close to what she used to buy before moving in with Adam.
There were many occasions where she almost felt guilty for her upbringing, as if having two parents who cared for her was something she should apologise for. So many people used their lack of a settled family life as the reason for the actions they chose to make. She felt an urge to try to see things from another angle but Scott had done things you couldn’t just say sorry for.
As Jessica wandered into a hallway, she saw one of the other officers walking towards her. Without speaking, he beckoned her into a bedroom, pointing to a shoebox that had been pulled out from under the bed.
‘I think that’s what you’re after,’ he said quietly.
Jessica sat on the floor, leaning against the bed. She could see instantly what was on top of the box. She remembered Leviticus Bryan’s words: ‘He keeps impeccable records of everything; staff, accounts, who owes him money, the lot.’
She was holding a sheet of paper that had clearly come from Nicholas’s filing cabinets. It was on the type of printer paper she remembered from school: perforated holes along either side, and rigid grey type.
As Jessica read, she wondered at which point Scott had figured out who his father was. He had been left outside Nicholas’s casino and then taken into care but it was perhaps no wonder that when he was old enough to understand what had happened to him as a baby, he felt drawn back towards the man who owned that place. Perhaps he recognised the way they both bled? Maybe he saw something facially?
She wondered how driven she might be to find out who she was if that was the only clue she started with.
Once Scott had discovered who his father was, he had seemingly turned his attention to finding his mother’s identity.
The pages were dated from over twenty years beforehand and listed Eleanor and Kayleigh’s birthdays, salaries, a list of payments and their then addresses. Someone, presumably Nicholas, had added four stars in the top right corner of Kayleigh’s page.
At first, Jessica was confused by what it might be for but then the horror of the person Nicholas had been came rushing back. She wondered how many other women in his files had similar ratings next to their name.
Scott would have worked his way backwards through Nicholas’s files. The final payment on Kayleigh and Eleanor’s documents coincided with a few months before Scott was born. He would have seen Nicholas in action, knowing how he was with the dancers. It wouldn’t have taken much to put two and two together.
Jessica glanced towards the box to see if there were any other similar papers but there was only what was in her hands. Eleanor had told her that Nicholas didn’t like losing staff, so it was perhaps no surprise that she and Kayleigh were the first two possibilities Scott had been able to narrow his potential mother down to – hardly anyone else left voluntarily.
Jessica peered up to see Cole standing in the door. She offered the papers to him, turning her attention to the other contents in the box. As he sat on the bed close to her, Jessica picked up a hairbrush and turned it over in her hands. There were still a few hairs entwined in the needles but she put it to one side, eyes drawn to the envelope underneath.
Inside were three letters which Jessica read and then handed to the chief inspector. After scanning, he seemed slightly confused but Jessica showed him the hairbrush.
‘I’ve never heard of home DNA tests,’ he said.
Given the number of television talk shows where most ended with such results being announced, it was easy to see where Scott might have got the idea from.
‘Adam was offered a job in one of these places,’ she said. ‘There are a few around this area. You send them a mouth swab, or some blood or, I guess from this, some hair, and they’ll see if there’s a match for you. I have no idea how accurate they are but you would have to assume they work. Adam didn’t fancy it, even though the money was good.’
Cole glanced back to the letters before replying. ‘Perhaps Scott broke into Eleanor’s house in the first place simply to find something of hers that could be tested? He didn’t know whether Eleanor or Kayleigh was his mother.’
‘I guess so. They said there was nothing missing but then so did Kayleigh. You wouldn’t expect something like a brush to go missing from a break-in.’
‘What about Oliver?’
Jessica sighed, thinking about the poor boy’s parents. ‘Only Scott will be able to tell us. Maybe he was in the wrong place at the wrong time? Perhaps Scott flew into a rage, thinking Eleanor was Oliver’s mother and the boy had stolen his life? Either that, or he was simply practising. It’s not easy suffocating someone but I suppose, if that’s what you want to do, you’re better starting with someone skinny and easy to overpower, then working your way up. Oliver’s body was always the one that confused us because he had no link to Kayleigh or Nicholas. Because Scott didn’t know which of the two women was his mum, he broke into Kayleigh’s too. Dumping the body confused us because we thought it was connected to something it wasn’t.’
The chief inspector pointed to the first printout. ‘But how did he find out where they live now? This information is all out of date.’
Jessica shrugged but, judging by the way Georgia had found Adam with such ease, it wasn’t too great a stretch to imagine that at least one of the women was traceable on the Internet.
‘Did you read the final letter?’ Jessica asked.
Cole held it up. ‘That’s how he knew for sure Nicholas was his father, because he got a sample tested.’
‘He probably saw the way Nicholas was with all the women that worked at the club. There can’t have been a shortage of things to take from his boss that could be sent off for analysis, especially with the nosebleeds. That gave the confirmation of who his father was, then he wanted to find his mother.’