by ML Rose
Jeremy and Harry remained standing while Arla took her seat again. Jeremy said, “Thank you for coming this morning at such short notice. I’m sorry I wasn’t here when you arrived. After what happened, I felt the need to clear my head.”
His explanation struck Arla as odd, but she could get to it later. “I’m sorry about what you’re going through, Mr Stone. I know this must be awful for you, but the more you can remember and tell us, the better.”
Jeremy’s head lowered and he cradled it on his palm. He remained motionless, but from the stiffness of his shoulders, Arla could see he was holding himself in. Harry walked to him and touched him on the shoulder.
“Would you like to sit down, Mr Stone?”
Jeremy didn’t reply, but when Harry pulled him a chair he did as asked. He took his glasses off and rubbed both eyes with the heels of his hands.
Arla opened up her black notebook. “Please tell us what happened this morning.”
Jeremy took a while to compose himself. He took out a handkerchief and blew his nose. His eyes were red-rimmed. He swallowed hard and stared at the carpet for a while, a vacant, lost look in his stricken eyes. If this was an act, Arla thought, then it was worthy of an Oscar. She reminded herself, not for the first time, that Jeremy Stone was a director and film producer and was no stranger to high-quality acting. Much like his wife.
Harry walked over to the other side of the table and sat down, observing from a different angle.
Jeremy cleared his throat. “I was up around seven this morning. Reggie and Becky slept in her bedroom. Becky said Reggie wasn’t feeling well and she would nurse him. Hence, I slept alone.”
Arla remained silent and he continued. “The sun was up and it seemed like a nice morning. I didn’t see Becky, and the nursery was empty, so I thought they went for a walk. They do that often.”
“Do you join them?”
Jeremy inclined his head. “Yes, of course I do. But Becky knew I was busy this morning on a project that just started. It requires travel to Brighton, to scope out a location. I think that’s why she didn’t ask me.”
“Carry on.”
“I had to make some calls and catch up on emails. As it happens, after this dreadful incident, I’m having to postpone my schedule. My assistant producer is stepping in. But I was due to travel tonight. Obviously, that will have to wait now.”
“Were you at home when Rebecca and Reggie returned?”
“Yes, I was. I didn’t actually hear them come in, however.”
“You weren’t aware they had returned?”
Jeremy shrugged. “No. I was in my study and I guess I didn’t hear the doorbell go. Becky has keys, obviously, but the front door lets off a bell as soon as it’s opened, even if with a key.”
“And you didn’t hear Becky leave either?”
“No.”
A sensation crinkled at the corner of Arla’s mind, radiating to her ears. A soft sound, like rubbing her finger on paper. She pressed her lips together. “Do you not normally hear the doorbell or other sounds around the house when you are in your study?”
He replied after a few seconds of thought. “Not always. My study isn’t soundproof, but it is near the back of the house.” He spread his hands. “It’s a big house, as you can see. I normally do hear the doorbell, because the chime is on a loudspeaker. But if someone has keys, they can let themselves in.”
“And you wouldn’t know who came in.”
“Yes.”
“So, Rebecca let herself in and out with the pram and you didn’t know.”
A hint of irritation appeared on Jeremy’s troubled features. “I think we’ve established that.”
“It’s very important to establish that,” Arla said, completely unruffled. “If we have a sequence of events, we can build a picture from that. So, when were you aware something was wrong?”
Jeremy took a deep sigh and closed his eyes. “When I heard Becky screaming.”
“Let’s go back a little while. So you were in your study when you heard Rebecca scream. After you woke up, did you go downstairs?”
“Yes, I did. I got the newspapers and asked Miss Mildred to make me a cup of coffee and some breakfast. Then I came back upstairs.”
“Do you know what time this was?”
Jeremy stared at Arla for a few seconds, then shrugged. “I didn’t check my watch. But I think sometime near eight o’clock.”
Arla wrote the time down in a notebook and circled it. She asked Jeremy to continue.
“I came back upstairs and sat down in my study. Miss Mildred brought the coffee and breakfast up to me. I got busy with answering emails and telling my assistant director what to do. As you can imagine, finishing a film production on time and on budget is a stressful job.”
“Sure, I get that. Do you remember the time you heard Becky scream?”
He looked down at his twisting fingers and frowned in concentration. “I remember it being eight forty-five, because I got a phone call. I’m sure it was just after that.”
“So, say about nine a.m.?”
“I guess so, yes.” He stared above Arla’s head for a few seconds, then said, “Actually, I remember that time as well because the internet wasn’t working and I had to check the Wi-Fi and router.”
“Why wasn’t it working?”
He shrugged. “Not sure. It’s started up again now, just before you arrived. But all morning it’s been down.”
Arla swivelled her face slowly to find Harry staring at her. She angled her head, looking at Jeremy askance. “What about last night, or earlier? Did you have problems with the Wi-Fi?”
“Nope. Worked perfectly, normally. We have high-speed, fibre-optic broadband. It was weird how it stopped working this morning.”
“What about other electrics? The lights, TV, so on.”
“They worked fine. I don’t watch TV in the mornings, but the lights worked normally. So did the kitchen appliances, as far as I’m aware.”
Arla narrowed her eyes, the wave of a new thought unfurling slowly across her mind. “You have CCTV here, right?”
Jeremy frowned. “Good point. The CCTV is connected to the Wi-Fi. It runs remotely, and we can operate the camera feeds from an app on our phones. I didn’t think about that.”
He took out his phone and checked. “Yes, the app is working now. But we store the feeds, and have to pay monthly for that. I guess you want to see if the cameras were working this morning?”
“Yes, and last night. In fact, the whole week.”
“No problem. But I have to send the company an email.”
Harry cleared his throat. “If you give us the details, it’ll be easier. We can specify what we need.”
Jeremy’s eyes switched from Harry to Arla as he considered. Then he nodded slowly. “Our privacy is very important to us. Please ensure—”
Arla interrupted. “You’re not the first media figure we have dealt with. Please understand that the CCTV feeds are safe with us.”
Harry spoke up from across the table. “Okay, let’s get back to this morning. You heard your wife scream the first time, or was it more than once?”
Jeremy took some time before answering. “It’s kind of hard to remember. It all happened so quickly, if you know what I mean. But I think there was a faint sound that alerted me. Then I heard a scream.” He nodded towards Harry. “You’re right. It might have been after she’d screamed a few times.”
Harry said, “Your study is directly opposite the nursery room.”
“Yes, it is.”
“Was your study door open or shut?”
“I never shut it fully, actually. It was ajar.”
“And then what happened?”
Jeremy sat straighter in the chair. His nostrils flared and his eyes widened as he recollected those terrible moments.
“I ran across. She was in a state, as you can imagine.” He rubbed his forehead and shook his head before continuing. “I couldn’t make any sense of what she was saying, apart from
the word ‘baby’. I looked inside the cot and it became obvious what had happened.”
Arla put a hand up. “Okay, let’s slow down here, Jeremy. What do you mean by obvious?”
He frowned as he stared back at Arla. “Well, the cot was empty and the window was open. The net curtain was flapping in the wind.”
“So, what did you do?”
“I ran to the window and looked out. I couldn’t see anything. But that window is normally shut.”
Arla wrote something down on her notepad. “Yes, that’s exactly what your wife said.” She drew her lips in and rubbed them over each other as she stared at her notebook. Then she glanced up at Jeremy. “When you came inside the room, was it cold or warm?”
Jeremy’s mouth opened and he appeared puzzled, a frown of irritation spasming across his face. “Warm or cold?”
Arla raised her eyebrows. “Yes?” she asked slowly.
He shook his head. “Pretty sure it was warm. That room normally is.”
Arla watched him in silence for a while, then turned her head to glance at Harry. A silent message passed between them. Harry asked, “Did you go inside the bathroom, which is right next to the nursery?”
Again, Jeremy looked surprised. “The bathroom? You mean the main one, on that floor?”
“Yes.”
“No, we have an en-suite bathroom in our bedroom and I normally use that. I use the main bathroom for my shower, after I come back from my run.”
“So, you’re sure you didn’t visit the main bathroom in the morning, before we arrived?” Arla repeated.
Jeremy scowled. He held out both hands. “I’ve told you already, haven’t I?”
Arla hardened her voice. “Could you please answer the question.”
Jeremy glared at her for a few seconds. “Yes,” he uttered firmly.
“Please carry on,” Harry prodded.
Jeremy shifted his attention to him. “I wanted to call the police. But I wasn’t sure, and Becky didn’t know what to do either. So, I decided to call my uncle, and then you guys arrived a bit later.”
Arla asked, “What happened between speaking to your uncle and us arriving?”
“Miss Mildred and I comforted Becky the best we could. She was almost catatonic, as you can imagine.” He squeezed his eyes shut and leaned back.
Arla gave him a few seconds, then asked, “Did you stay upstairs, or come down into the kitchen?”
“Becky wouldn’t leave the nursery. But she wanted me to go outside and check. Which I did, of course.”
Harry asked, “You went outside, to the back? But I didn’t see any human footprints on the snow.”
“I went out to the front door and then circled around the path to the left. I walked down to the edge of the woods before turning back.”
Harry relaxed. “But you didn’t go into the garden?”
Jeremy’s face was calm and flat, like the surface of a pond reflecting the sky. Almost too calm, Arla thought. She couldn’t ignore the nagging worry biting at the back of her mind. A concrete, obsidian shape, slowly taking form, but still out of reach.
Jeremy glanced from Harry to Arla. “Like you said, I didn’t see any footprints in the garden either. And the snow was heavy, especially at the rear, where the garden slopes down. I didn’t see the point.”
Harry asked, “So you saw nothing and decided to come back?” Jeremy nodded. Harry leaned forward, putting his elbows on the desk, his chair creaking. He held Jeremy’s eyes. “Then you decided to go for a run? At a moment like this?”
Jeremy didn’t rise to it, Arla noted with interest. He had been preparing for the question, she thought to herself. A ripple of unease slithered down her spine.
Without moving a muscle on his face, and keeping perfectly still, Jeremy said, “There was nothing more for me to do. I must once again thank you for coming. But it was time for my morning run and I needed some fresh air.”
“And you ran all the while we were here?”
A small, mirthless smile tugged at the corners of Jeremy’s lips, then vanished.
“I didn’t avoid you on purpose. Actually, I used my running time to have a look around in more detail. I ran around the back of the woods and also went inside it, as far as I could. Just to see if I could find anything.” His brows furrowed and his jaws clenched together as he breathed heavily.
“What were you looking for?” Arla asked softly.
He shot her a look of pure venom. “What do you think I was looking for? A lost puppy? A stray cat?” His lips curled upwards in a snarl.
It was Arla’s turn to remain impassive. She had gotten under his skin and decided to push him a little. “May I remind you this is a serious crime inquiry and we can ask you to come down to the station to give this statement. Would you prefer that?”
Jeremy removed his glasses slowly and made a show of wiping them with his handkerchief. Then, just as slowly, he put them back on. His dark blue eyes were foggy, murky to Arla’s gaze, but he stared back at her calmly, his previous poise regained.
“No. I apologise. It’s been exceptionally stressful, as you can see.” He let out a deep sigh and his gaze floated to the ground. “If you must know, I was looking for a discarded baby. Small body, wrapped in Reggie’s clothes.”
Arla and Harry glanced at each other. She asked, “Is that the real reason why you went out for a run?”
Jeremy nodded without replying. Harry asked, “Reggie was wrapped in a blue cloth at the time of his disappearance. Is that correct?”
“Yes. I made sure I asked my wife before I went out.”
Arla studied his face, his ears, the delicate muscles just under his chin, and the stronger corded muscles of the neck.
It was virtually impossible to stop involuntary contractions of the neck muscles when lying. Jeremy’s neck muscles remained lax. She wished they were in an interrogation room and this interview was being videotaped.
She could show it to Nick Marlowe, the criminal psychologist. Jeremy had remembered to ask his wife what clothes baby was wearing before he went out. Then he committed that to memory and deliberately ran around, looking for his son. He was doing a father’s duty, of course, but it also showed the working of a methodical mind, not one frazzled by stress.
Jeremy caught her looking at him. He asked, “Is there anything else, detectives?”
Arla shifted in her chair. She arched her spine upwards; the pressure on her lower back was growing. “While you were out, it was only Miss Mildred and your wife in the house, right?”
“I wasn’t here at the time, but they were the two people I left here, yes.”
A clever answer. Arla was impressed. She decided to change direction, and did so abruptly. “Tell us about your uncle. Glenn Stone.”
CHAPTER 15
Jeremy regarded Arla impassively before replying. “I’m close to my uncle, obviously. Hence, I called him.”
Harry asked, “I understand your father has passed away, but your mother is still alive, isn’t she?”
“Yes, she is. She remarried and lives near Doncaster, in northeast England. I’m closer to my uncle, to be honest. Plus, he lives closer, in Esher.”
“That’s down the A3, right?”
Jeremy nodded. Arla knew the place. Towns like Esher and Weybridge were bastions of the leafy stockbroker belt in Surrey. Where wealthy bankers rubbed shoulders with rock stars and footballers.
“Have you ever lived with your uncle?” Arla asked.
“No, I haven’t. When I was younger, I spent the summers either at his house or vacationing with him. He helped with my first jobs in the film industry. I owe him a great deal.” He lifted both shoulders and the corners of his lips downturned. “It’s not just me. Uncle is well-known for helping out young actors and singers trying to break into the industry.”
Jeremy glanced at his watch. “I’m not being rude, but I do have a few phone calls to make. I will be at home, however, and we can carry on later, if you like.”
Arla did a
mental head-shake. The upper crust behaved so predictably when it came to using the public services. As if she was at Jeremy’s beck and call, to sacrifice her time to suit his schedule.
She kept her voice even when she spoke. “I’m afraid I won’t have the time later as we will be busy with the investigation. One more question. Where were you last night?”
“I came back from a location survey in Brighton. We have a beach shoot and I needed to see it in the late afternoon light. I wasn’t back home till late evening.”
Arla took down the times of his leaving and returning home, then snapped shut her notebook. “Thank you, Mr Stone. That will be all for now.” All of them rose. As Jeremy turned to leave, Arla said, “Just a second.”
Jeremy turned, a contraction appearing on his forehead. Arla said, “The first forty-eight hours in any disappearance is the most critical. We are four hours into this case already. I appreciate that you want privacy, but without involving forensic officers we might not get an answer quickly. May I suggest you allow forensic officers inside your residence? I know this will cause some disturbance, but we will try and keep it to a minimum.”
Jeremy pondered his response for a while, his gaze flicking from Arla to Harry. “Are you sure the media will not get wind of this?”
“I can assure you, these are senior officers who have handled many high-profile investigations with the greatest of discretion. They will never speak to the media.”
Jeremy bent his head, then reached up his hand and slowly smoothed the hair he had left at the back. Presently he looked up. “Okay. I will inform Becky. Please ensure they don’t erect a white tent outside our house. It’s such a cliché.”
Arla smiled in victory. “Of course, I understand. No tents.”
“And please ask them to put on their white suits or whatever inside the house, not outside.”
“As you wish. They don’t need to park outside your house, either. How about using your garage?”
“That’s a good idea,” Jeremy said, his facial muscles relaxing. “I can put one of our cars out on the street. Or even both of them, if you prefer.”
