DI Sean Corrigan Crime Series: 6-Book Collection: Cold Killing, Redemption of the Dead, The Keeper, The Network, The Toy Taker and The Jackdaw

‘How?’

Sean scanned the file. He found what he was looking for: the name of the original officer in the case. Detective Sergeant Paul Jarratt. ‘I know that name.’

‘Come again?’ Donnelly asked.

‘Paul Jarratt, the original investigating officer, I know that name.’

‘Maybe you used to work with him?’

‘No,’ Sean muttered. ‘Something recent. Something I’ve seen.’

Sean studied the man who opened the door of the neat Surbiton home. He and Donnelly showed their warrant cards and introduced themselves. Jarratt seemed nervous, but composed.

‘I believe you know a colleague of mine,’ Sean said. ‘DS Sally Jones?’

‘Yes,’ Jarratt answered. ‘She called around here a couple of times, asking about an old case of mine.’

‘I know,’ Sean told him. ‘Unfortunately I have some bad news concerning DS Jones.’

‘Bad news?’

‘I’m afraid she was attacked and seriously injured last night. She’s stable, but critical. I thought as you’d been helping her you should know.’

‘Yes,’ Jarratt stuttered. ‘Thank you. Thank you for thinking of me. Can I ask how it happened?’

‘You can,’ Donnelly said, nodding his head towards the inside.

‘Yes, of course,’ Jarratt answered. ‘Please, come in.’ He led them to the kitchen and sat. Sean and Donnelly remained standing.

‘I don’t know a lot of details,’ Sean explained. ‘We know she was attacked with a knife in her own flat and received two serious injuries. She managed to escape and make it to her neighbour’s. She’s lucky to be alive.’

‘My God,’ Jarratt said. ‘Who would attack a copper in her own home?’

‘Maybe you can help us with that?’ Sean asked. Jarratt’s jaw dropped slightly. Sean noticed it.

‘Of course,’ Jarratt answered. ‘I’ll help in any way I can, only I’m not sure how.’

‘DS Jones was trying to trace a suspect – Stefan Korsakov, a man you’d had dealings with some years ago.’

‘Yes.’

‘Only she was having trouble locating his fingerprints.’

‘Yes, I remember her mentioning it.’

‘Her inquiries led her to discover that you had requested the fingerprints be removed from Fingerprints Branch. Apparently Wandsworth Prison needed them to make copies for their records.’

‘Yes, I told DS Jones all this.’

‘And you’re positive the prison requested them?’ Sean asked.

‘Yes. My colleague at the time, Graham Wright, collected the prints for me and returned them. Perhaps he could help you.’

‘Do you know a man called James Hellier?’ Sean asked without warning.

Jarratt was silent for a while. He appeared to be struggling to recall the name. ‘No, I don’t think I know anyone by that name.’

‘You’re sure?’

‘It’s not a name that means anything to me,’ Jarratt answered.

Sean pulled an envelope from his jacket pocket. ‘Will you do me a favour?’ he asked. ‘Take a look at these photographs. Tell me if you recognize the man in them.’ Sean emptied the surveillance photographs of Hellier on to the table in front of Jarratt.

Jarratt leaned forward and shuffled the photographs around, apparently uninterested. ‘No,’ he said. ‘I don’t recognize this man. I’ve already told DS Jones I don’t know this man, when she showed me a photograph of the same man when she first came to see me.’

‘Are you sure?’ Sean asked. ‘Are you absolutely sure the man in these photographs isn’t Stefan Korsakov?’

‘Stefan Korsakov?’ Jarratt asked, disbelief in his voice. ‘This isn’t Stefan Korsakov.’

‘If not Korsakov, then what about James Hellier? Is the man in this photograph James Hellier?’ Sean persisted.

‘I don’t know anyone called James Hellier, so I wouldn’t know if this was or wasn’t him,’ Jarratt answered, the increasing anxiety in his voice palpable.

Sean said nothing, instead he tossed a piece of paper in front of Jarratt. ‘What’s this?’ Jarratt asked.

‘Take a look,’ Sean told him.

Jarratt lifted it from the table and began to read through the list of names and telephone numbers on the printout of the email from SO11. ‘I don’t understand,’ he said, shaking his head.

‘What’s the matter?’ Sean asked. ‘Don’t you recognize your own name, your own telephone number?’ He leaned over Jarratt and stabbed his finger into the printout. ‘Right there: Jarratt, Paul. And here: your address and your number.’

‘What is this?’ Jarratt asked.

‘This is a list of telephone numbers taken from a notebook belonging to one James Hellier, who is currently under investigation for murder. What is your telephone number doing in his notebook, Mr Jarratt?’

‘I have no idea,’ Jarratt pleaded. ‘So he has my telephone number, what does that mean? There could be any number of reasons why he has my number.’

Sean fell silent. He sat next to Jarratt. ‘If it was only the telephone number in his book, I might believe you,’ he said. ‘But you’ve already hung yourself. You see I found out that DS Jones checked with the prison and they told her they never requested Korsakov’s prints. You lied.’ Jarratt didn’t respond. ‘And then there are these,’ Sean continued, tapping the photographs of Hellier. ‘On our way to see you, we called in on an old colleague of yours, DS Graham Wright, and I showed him these very same photographs. And you know what he told me, without any hesitation whatsoever? He told me that the man in these photographs is Stefan Korsakov. The same Stefan Korsakov who now goes by the name of James Hellier. But you already know that, don’t you, Mr Jarratt?’

‘I … I …’ Jarratt struggled, trapped.

‘It’s over,’ said Sean. ‘You were a detective once. You know when the show is over. It’s time to save yourself. Talk to us. Did Hellier attack Sally? You warned him she was digging around his past and he got worried she was getting too close, so he tried to stop her the only way he could – by killing her.’

‘No,’ Jarratt insisted. ‘He didn’t attack her.’

‘So you admit to knowing him?’ Donnelly asked.

‘Yes … I mean no.’