The Sleepover

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by Carol Wyer


  ‘That was last Thursday. I don’t know who they were, apart from Ellie. Two lads, Ellie and another girl. They were a lippy bunch. I told them smoking wasn’t allowed inside the building but they gave me some right backchat. If Boo hadn’t been with me, I’d have given them a proper mouthful but…’ She shrugged.

  Lucy pulled out the photograph of Roxy. The woman’s head bobbed up and down. ‘She was one of them. Cheeky little mare. Is that Roxy?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Oh, I see.’

  ‘Can you describe the boys?’

  ‘Not really. One had dark hair, I think. Roxy was really gobby. Like a lot of the kids around here, but to come out with all that filthy language in front of a five-year-old was too much. I told her to cut it out and she gave some sarky reply so I grabbed Boo’s hand and left them to it. If I’d been alone, it would have been a different story.’

  ‘Had you met her before?’

  ‘I saw her a couple of times, coming out of Ellie’s flat, but I didn’t know who she was. She was a rude madam but I’m sorry to hear she’s been killed. No mother wants to get that news.’

  ‘How do you get along with Ellie and her mum?’

  ‘Don’t have anything to do with them. I know them and Ellie’s father, Jack. Since he went to prison, she and her mother haven’t mixed much. Jack was trouble. He was a bully and a thief. He robbed the local store and shot the elderly owner, who was unarmed, so not many people have time for either of them.’

  A woman’s voice drifted over and Boo’s mum looked up at her name being called. ‘Sorry. That’s my friend arriving. I have to walk Boo to school.’

  ‘Thanks for your help.’ Lucy backed off and walked past the woman holding a small girl’s hand. The child smiled up shyly at Lucy as they passed and she returned it. Soon she’d have her own little girl’s hand in her own. The thought was warming.

  Ellie answered her door. Her ghost-white face reflected no surprise at seeing Lucy.

  ‘Hi. Can I chat to you again?’

  ‘Mum’s out so I can’t let you in.’

  Lucy knew she couldn’t officially interview the girl without an adult present but rather hoped she’d feel able to open up. ‘How are you?’

  ‘Shitty. Really shitty. I feel sick. Mum said I didn’t have to go to school.’

  ‘I’m sure you feel awful. It’s a massive thing to lose your best friend. It’ll take time. You ought to talk to somebody though. You shouldn’t bury this. There are people – trained professionals – who understand exactly what you’re going through. They’ll listen and help you.’

  ‘Nobody can help. They can’t take the pain away, can they? They can’t make me stop feeling like this.’

  ‘They can help you cope with that pain until it eases a little,’ said Lucy with a small smile. ‘Have you talked to any of your friends?’

  ‘Yeah, a few. They didn’t know Roxy like I did. They’re all like, “Oh no!” and they’re all in tears and saying how great she was and how they’ll miss her, but none of them can feel like I do. I loved her so much. We were really good friends.’

  ‘I understand that. She meant the world to you, didn’t she? I wouldn’t be here if it hadn’t been for my best friend.’

  Ellie surveyed her through narrowed eyes. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Let’s just say she helped me through a really bad time in my life.’

  A silence hung between them before Ellie said, ‘That was like Roxy and me. We helped each other. She was there for me when Dad was sent to prison and everyone here was saying all sorts of shit about us.’

  ‘And you were there for her too,’ Lucy said quietly, hoping the girl would take the bait. She did.

  ‘Yeah. She went through some really crap times and there was no one she could tell but me.’ Lucy waited for more and it came. ‘About how she got hurt.’ As soon as she’d spoken the words, she looked up, eyes wide. ‘Don’t say anything, will you? That was her secret. She didn’t want anyone to know. It would kill her mum.’

  ‘Why?’

  Ellie shook her head. ‘I promised I wouldn’t tell a soul. I’m keeping that promise. She was my best friend.’

  ‘Would you tell me if you thought it would help me find out what happened to her?’

  The girl straightened up and shook her head. ‘I can’t. I have to go. I don’t feel well.’ She took a step back and shut the door before Lucy could say another word. Lucy knocked on the door a few times but there was no response.

  Back at police headquarters, Natalie was in interview room B with Paul Sadler, who cradled his head in his hands. ‘Fuck, I can’t think straight. This is madness. I mean, what is Cathy thinking of, going off like this? She must know how worried we are about her.’

  ‘Take a second and try to think of anyone she might have gone to. She was in an emotional state. Who would she be likely to run to?’

  He lifted his head with effort to respond. ‘Me.’ His features were screwed in pain and he swallowed several times before attempting to speak further. The effort to do so was too great and he couldn’t prevent tears from spilling over his lids and trickling down his face. ‘It should have been me she ran to. I understood. I was hurting too.’ His shoulders began to shake as the sobs intensified. He reached for the glass of water he’d been offered and sipped then swiped at the tears and tried, with difficulty, to compose himself. He made another attempt to explain. ‘I was Roxy’s dad. Not her biological father but still her dad. I don’t understand why Cathy’s gone. We need her, all of us need her.’

  ‘We believe she went to Linnet Lane.’

  ‘To the house where Roxy died?’

  ‘It seems that’s possible. Does she know Gavin or Kirk Lang?’

  ‘No. We’d never heard of them until you mentioned them.’ His face stretched and lengthened as he fought confusion and despair.

  ‘Can you think of anywhere in that area where she might have gone?’

  ‘No. I don’t get sent to jobs in Armston very often. I did one near the arts centre once.’ Natalie was aware of that fact. They’d already checked with his employer to see if he’d carried out any work near Linnet Lane and discovered the arts centre, a kilometre away, was the closest he’d been to it. He released a painful groan. ‘I wish she’d phone. This is fucking torture.’

  ‘We’ll do everything we can to locate her. It might be best if you went home in case she returns.’

  ‘Sure. The boss isn’t expecting me back. I shouldn’t have gone in at all. I don’t know why I did. I should have stayed at home with the boys.’

  ‘I don’t think it would have made any difference. You’d have been expecting her to return and none the wiser that she was missing until PC Granger turned up. I’ll take you to reception, and as soon as we have news, we’ll let you know.’

  Charlie Curtis was on the settee, in the same position his mother had occupied the day before. He was staring unfocused at a spot behind Lucy’s head. The strain was beginning to show on his face and his biceps flexed from time to time as if he had a nervous tic. Hunched over a mobile in the chair next to the settee was Seth, his hair flopped over his face, long pale fingers swiftly moving over the screen as he played a tile-matching game. Tanya Granger waited by the door while Lucy faced the pair, notepad and pen in her hand.

  ‘Would you mind if I sat down?’ she asked.

  Charlie answered with a half-mumbled, ‘Go ahead.’

  She dropped onto the chair opposite and leant towards him.

  ‘Have you heard from Mum?’ he asked.

  ‘We’re still looking for her. Tell me when you last saw her.’

  ‘When you came to tell her about Roxy.’

  ‘You left to visit your girlfriend, Zara, didn’t you?’

  He unclamped his hands from his armpits and rested his hands on his thighs. His ripped jeans were so shredded, Lucy could see a great deal of muscular flesh through the slits. He studied his ragged fingernails. ‘Yeah. I stayed there all afternoon. Didn’t come b
ack until nine. Mum had gone out by then. Paul was on his own watching telly. I joined him for a while.’

  ‘How did you know she’d gone to Megan’s?’

  ‘Paul told me Mum had texted him and was staying over with her.’

  ‘Seth, did you see her before she left?’

  The boy paused his game and looked across. His golden eyes were dull and bloodshot, and dark bags had formed under them. He might have been the elder of the two, but he somehow appeared frailer than his brother, who sat with legs apart and an air of confidence. Seth shrank into himself and spoke quietly. ‘I didn’t come home until late either.’

  ‘What time would that have been?’ Lucy asked.

  ‘Dunno. Late. Everyone was in bed.’

  ‘You share a room with Charlie, don’t you?’

  Charlie answered. ‘Yeah. I heard him come in. We didn’t talk though.’

  ‘Any idea what time it was?’

  ‘It wasn’t long after I’d gone to bed, about ten thirty. I went to sleep soon after that. This all feels really weird. I can’t believe it’s really happening.’

  Lucy gave a quick nod. ‘Losing Roxy will take some getting used to.’

  Seth had dropped his head again, fingers tapping his mobile’s screen in rapid movements, not participating in the conversation.

  ‘Which one of you spoke to Paul this morning?’ Lucy asked.

  Seth replied, ‘He was about to leave for work when I got up. He said he’d try and get back at lunchtime.’

  ‘Do you work, Seth?’

  ‘Yeah. Same place as Mum – Argos. We’re both pickers but we’re not due in until tomorrow.’

  ‘What about you, Charlie?’

  ‘I’m a trainee plumber. I work for Calvin Unwin Plumbing in Clearview. I told Calvin about Roxy and he gave me the week off.’

  Lucy turned her attention back to Seth. ‘Did Paul mention your mum this morning?’

  ‘I asked him where she was and he said she was at Megan’s and she’d be home soon.’ He finished his sentence with a light shrug.

  ‘Okay. I’d like to ask you both about Roxy again. Did she ever mention going to Armston?’

  ‘Not to me,’ said Charlie.

  ‘Seth?’

  The boy responded with a shake of the head.

  ‘Did she talk to you about anyone she knew there?’

  Seth’s mouth turned downwards as his head moved slowly this way and that. ‘Nope.’

  ‘Did Roxy talk over problems or share secrets with either of you?’

  Charlie gave a light snort. ‘No way. Not Roxy.’

  ‘But you’re her brothers. Surely, she’d talk to you.’

  ‘Only about normal, boring stuff.’ He lifted a well-chewed thumbnail to his mouth and worried the skin around the edges with his teeth.

  ‘Seth, what about you?’

  ‘No. She used to talk to Mum, not us.’ He turned his attention back to his game and Lucy suspected it was a ploy to distance himself from the conversation. She kept up her questions.

  ‘Didn’t she ever complain about your mum or Paul to you? I know I moaned about my folks to my brothers all the time.’

  Seth spoke without looking up. ‘Roxy didn’t like being the only girl in the family. She said we ganged up against her but that was rubbish. She got moody a lot, didn’t she, Charlie?’

  Charlie pulled his thumb away and sighed. ‘Yeah. She was really sulky at times, and if we got on her nerves, she’d get proper bad-tempered. She argued all the time, not just with us, but Mum and Paul too.’

  ‘That’s normal in families,’ said Lucy. ‘I used to fight with my brothers a lot too.’ She omitted the fact they were foster brothers and she’d hated most of them. ‘What did she argue about?’

  ‘Anything that made her mad.’

  ‘Did she ever mention the names Gavin or Kirk Lang?’

  ‘Not to me,’ said Charlie.

  ‘Did she say anything about a nightclub called Extravaganza?’

  ‘Nah. Never,’ Charlie answered.

  ‘What about the names Sandra and Crystal?’

  Charlie looked completely stumped. ‘Are they her friends?’

  ‘I don’t know whether or not they were her friends. I thought maybe you could help me.’

  ‘She never said anything to me about them. Seth?’

  ‘Nor me.’

  ‘Roxy didn’t really tell either of you much at all, then?’

  ‘She was my sister not my best mate. Try her friend Ellie. They were tight.’

  Lucy noted the anguished look that crossed Charlie’s face. He was putting on a hard front but his trembling hands gave away the fact he was beginning to understand the enormity of what had happened.

  Lucy had only a few more questions, and after winding up the interview, she left the boys with Tanya. She was no closer to knowing why Roxy had gone to Armston on Saturday evening or where Cathy might be.

  Natalie paced the office, troubled by the lack of evidence. Her interview with Paul Sadler had only highlighted his misery, confusion and anxiety. She was musing on her next move when the communications unit sprang to life and she leapt for it.

  ‘Ian? Receiving.’

  ‘We’ve found Cathy Curtis.’

  ‘Where?’

  ‘In the canal. She’s dead.’

  ‘Oh, fucking hell! Does it look like suicide?’

  ‘I can’t call it but there appear to be suspicious ligatures around her neck. She might have been murdered. I’ve sealed the area.’

  ‘Okay. I’ll report it and get Mike’s team over immediately. I’m on my way.’

  Thirteen

  Monday, 2 July – Late Morning

  Natalie crouched beside the lifeless form. Cathy’s wet hair glistened, caught in a shaft of light that escaped between the clouds now clumping together above them. The golden ray caressed the woman’s cheek before disappearing altogether. An angel’s kiss, thought Natalie. Cathy seemed smaller and frailer than she recalled. Her body lay on the towpath where it had been deposited by a dog walker who’d spied her and attempted to rescue her. The man, Lyndon Harvey, a well-spoken individual, was currently talking to Lucy, who’d joined them by the canal.

  ‘What are your thoughts about those marks on her neck?’ Natalie directed the question to Mike.

  ‘On the one hand, she might have got entangled in something in the canal. On the other, that’s the less likely option. My money’s on foul play. I suspect she was strangled.’

  ‘It looks that way to me too. Pinkney will be able to confirm it but the signs are there: petechiae in both eyes, bruising around her neck. This is purely hypothetical, but Cathy left home last night for a reason, probably to meet somebody, and I have a nasty feeling the person she intended meeting was her killer.’

  ‘You reckon her death is linked to her daughter’s, then?’

  ‘I do. I can’t see the connection yet but I’m going to uncover it.’ She pushed herself upright and moved closer to the edge, peering into the gloomy water. The last time she’d been beside a canal, she’d been fearful that her daughter had been murdered and left on board a narrowboat used by a killer to first hide and then murder young girls. Death and canals now went hand in hand for her, and she couldn’t feel any of the joy or calm associated with them. The water appeared to be fairly clear and she saw nothing beneath the surface that could have managed to wrap itself around Cathy’s neck and choke her. Cathy had been devastated at Roxy’s death and undoubtedly felt guilty for not ensuring the safety of her daughter, but would she jump into the canal and kill herself? Natalie couldn’t imagine that was possible. Cathy had three other children. Surely, she wouldn’t have turned her back on them? Something caught her eye.

  ‘Mike, what’s that?’

  She pointed at the object – a wig, black hair or similar, sitting towards the centre of the canal.

  ‘Hang on. I’ve got something that’ll fish it out.’

  He returned with a flexible pole and net that he submerg
ed until he could scoop up the article. Natalie recognised it immediately. It was a black toy cat – probably Roxy’s. Her heart sank. Poor Cathy had brought a memento of her daughter with her. Natalie could fully comprehend the woman’s grief. She’d almost gone out of her mind with worry when Leigh had disappeared, and she had feared the worst. The distress had been physical. If Leigh had been found dead, Natalie was sure she would have been suffocated by her own guilt. Had Cathy taken her own life? It was beginning to look possible.

  ‘Natalie, did you want to talk to the man who found her body, Lyndon Harvey? He’s asking to go home. I’ve taken a statement from him,’ Lucy said.

  ‘Actually, I wouldn’t mind asking him a couple of questions.’ Natalie accompanied Lucy back to the man, who was fussing a large English setter that tugged at its lead.

  ‘I’m sorry to have kept you, sir,’ said Natalie.

  Lyndon reminded Natalie of her science teacher back in the day, with his wire-framed glasses and shock of white hair that stood up on his egg-shaped head. He half-bowed in her direction.

  ‘I’m DI Ward. I’m sure you’ve gone over this a few times already but could you tell me how exactly you came across the body?’

  ‘It was Albert here who found her. He loves a morning swim and he launched into the canal as usual to chase off some ducks. Then all of a sudden, he stopped over there, in line with the bench, and began diving under the water and worrying something. I thought he was badgering an injured duck and rushed over to intervene and then saw it was a person. Somehow, he’d managed to push her upwards and I leant over and hauled her out. It was too late of course. There was no pulse at all and I could tell she’d been dead a while. I laid her out where she is now and called the police immediately.’

  ‘Have you seen her before?’

  ‘Alas, no. I told DS Carmichael that I’ve not come across her before, and Albert and I walk this route every morning and evening. Mind you, I rarely see anyone. This is a disused part of the canal so there are no boats and only the occasional jogger or dog walker.’

 

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