Make You Sorry

by Christine Rae-Jones

  Her jaw dropped. ‘Oh God,’ she said. ‘Sorry.’

  ‘So am I, Maggy.’ He started to walk away. ‘So am I.’

  Chapter 42

  Monday 17th February

  DS Spence drove DC Lynn Greenfield to Silver Sands House where they were met at the door by a middle aged woman in a navy suit which was a size too small for her. Tendrils of grey hair escaped from a bun and her eye shadow and mascara were smudged. When the officers explained the reason for their visit and produced warrant cards she barely looked at them. ‘Mrs Cooper’s suite is on the first floor but she may be asleep. The residents have recently had lunch and many of them take a nap before the afternoon’s activities. I’ll ring up and tell her you’re on your way.’

  Spence held out a hand. ‘Please don’t. I’d prefer it if you gave us directions. We’ll find it.’

  The woman’s face registered surprise. ‘I hope there isn’t a problem.’

  ‘No problem,’ he replied, ‘We just need the directions.’

  She led them to the bottom of the staircase and was about to speak when a young man appeared through a door.

  ‘Oh, there you are, Danny. Can you please show these officers to Mrs Cooper’s suite?’ she turned to Spence with obvious disdain, ‘I assume that will be acceptable?’

  ‘Thank you.’

  Danny was wearing well pressed navy overalls with the Silver Sands logo they had seen on the sign at the bottom of the drive. Under the logo was a plastic name badge with his name and “Maintenance.” He led them up the stairs, through the fire door at the top, and down a corridor which had no windows. Lighting was triggered automatically by their progress until they reached the end where he pointed to a white door and went to knock on it.

  ‘That’s okay, Danny. We’ll take it from here,’ said Greenfield. Her knock was firm and authoritative and Danny held back, as if waiting to see what was going to happen.

  Greenfield knocked again, harder, and Spence noted that Danny flinched. He asked, ‘Do you have a master key if we need it?’

  Danny’s mouth gaped. The very idea of giving strangers access to Dorothy Cooper’s suite without her permission clearly terrified him. The light in the corridor went out at the same time as the door was thrown open. ‘What’s going on?’ Dorothy Cooper’s eyes showed that she had been sleeping and was unimpressed by being disturbed. ‘Who are you?’

  Spence and Greenfield held out their identification again. ‘What’s wrong? Is Samantha okay? You’d better come in.’ As they stepped into the light of her lounge, she called her thanks to Danny who was making his way back down the corridor, before closing the door.

  The room was a little too fussy for Spence’s taste with framed photographs of the Cooper family on most of the available surfaces. There was a black and white wedding photo. A man, who Spence took to be Morgan’s father-in-law, had his arm around a young Dorothy Cooper’s waist. They were looking into each other’s eyes and laughing. Spence found it difficult to believe that this was the same woman who was in front of him now, her face scowling and lips tightly closed.

  ‘I’d offer coffee, but I’m sure you won’t be here long,’ she said as she sat on the white leather armchair and put her feet up on a stool.

  ‘If you could sit with me at this table please, Mrs Cooper,’ Spence was keen to take control of the interview, ‘It’ll help my colleague take notes and no doubt speed things up so we can get out of your way sooner.’

  Dorothy Cooper looked towards the small dining table where Spence had settled. She narrowed her eyes and rose slowly as if it caused her physical pain. She came to the table, sat down and immediately crossed her arms.

  ‘Will this do?’

  ‘Yes. Thank you.’ Spence indicated that Greenfield should sit beside him so that both were facing Dorothy. He would have preferred a less confrontational seating arrangement but figured that his hand had been forced by her attitude.

  Dorothy gave them both a cold smile. The message was superiority with a touch of tolerance. ‘What is it I can do for you Mr Spence?’

  Greenfield looked up from the new page of her notebook and intervened. ‘Detective Sergeant Spence and I have a few questions for you,’ she said. ‘DS Spence?’

  Dave Spence said, ‘Yes, Mrs Cooper, we’re here to ask a few questions about Steven Cooper.’

  ‘My Steven?’

  ‘Your son, yes. We understand that he hasn’t been at work for a couple of weeks. Is that correct?’

  Dorothy looked from Spence to Greenfield and then back again. ‘What about it? What’s this about? Has he been in an accident?’

  Spence sighed, his frustration building. ‘Is your son on holiday?’

  ‘I believe so.’

  ‘Where has he gone and when do you expect him back?’

  ‘He didn’t tell me and I didn’t ask. He’s a grown man.’

  ‘He is employed by the family business, is he not? Surely you must know when he will be back at work?’ asked Greenfield.

  Dorothy seemed unsettled by her interruption. ‘My daughter is running the business now.’

  ‘And she’ll confirm that when I question her, will she?’ said Spence, his eyebrows raised.

  Dorothy Cooper didn’t respond immediately. ‘We haven’t completely agreed the terms and conditions of her employment, but in essence, she knows she’ll be running the business.’

  Spence had to hand it to her. She evaded direct questions with the skill of an expensive defence lawyer.

  ‘Would it be accurate to say that your son is missing?’ The question was posed by Greenfield.

  ‘Why ever would you say that?’

  ‘If you could answer DC Greenfield’s question, please. I know you’re keen to get back to what you were doing.’ Spence watched her closely.

  ‘I don’t know how to answer that.’

  Spence continued. ‘Your son’s name has come up in a current investigation and we need to speak to him as soon as possible. It’s been suggested that he disappeared a couple of weeks ago and that nobody has heard from him since. I’ll be frank with you, Mrs Cooper, if you can’t or won’t tell us where he is, we’re going to consider getting a warrant for his arrest.’

  The look of horror which crossed Dorothy’s face was rewarding. ‘If this is about that solicitor tart, I can tell you he knows nothing about it. They broke up... well, they were never really together. I told him to stop seeing her before Christmas.’

  ‘We have some questions for him, Mrs Cooper and it would help everyone if you can tell us where he is; especially him.’

  ‘He’s not answering his phone and I think his answer service must be full, because the number rings out now.’

  ‘We’ll need that number please.’

  Dorothy got up and fetched her handbag from beside the armchair. She took out a phone encased in silver and pink sequins and accessed the contact details. The officers’ eyes met, their mutual surprise obvious. This was not the sort of phone case they expected this unsmiling woman to have.

  DC Greenfield noted the number and checked it and they thanked her for her co-operation whilst preparing to leave. Dorothy appeared to relax as she opened the door. ‘Can you tell him to ring me? I’ve been worried about him.’

  Spence nodded and said they would be in touch if they had any more questions.

  ‘I’ve got one last one,’ said Greenfield. ‘Do you have any other property... apart from Cliffside House, I mean? A holiday apartment or somewhere you used to go as a family when Steven was younger? Somewhere that might mean something to him?’

  Dorothy’s genial expression vanished and her face froze. ‘I’ve answered everything you’ve asked,’ she snapped.

  ‘Just that last one outstanding, then,’ said Spence, holding the door.

  ‘There’s a caravan at Southwold. I haven’t been there for thirty years, but I pay the fees and Samantha has taken the twins when her husband has been too busy to give them a holiday.’ She spat out the sentence as if the very menti
on of Nick Morgan was distasteful.

  ‘We’ll need the address then, and we’ll leave you in peace.’

  As they walked back down the corridor to the staircase, Spence turned to Greenfield with the broadest smile and offered a high five. ‘Just one last question... Get you, Columbo.’

  Chapter 43

  Monday 17th February

  Morgan and Spence met Abi’s fiancé, Joseph Kendrick, at the reception desk. He was standing beside a small man who was talking excitedly on a mobile phone. They all waited for the call to end before Kendrick introduced the man as his solicitor, Neville Wicks. Spence led them to an interview room.

  Morgan watched Kendrick closely. He was tense. He had frown lines in the centre of his forehead which were deep for a man in his late twenties, and his eyes darted round the room.

  ‘Firstly, Mr Kendrick, thank you for coming in, and we’re sorry for your loss.’ Morgan waited for Kendrick to acknowledge his words, but it was the solicitor who responded.

  ‘My client is here to provide you with any information that’ll help with your enquiries.’

  ‘Thank you,’ said Morgan before explaining that the interview was not being recorded and that, as Kendrick was not under arrest, he could leave at any time. Again, no response. ‘Perhaps we can start by you telling us about Abigail and your relationship with her?’ Kendrick looked at his solicitor and sighed. ‘I’ve said all this before: when she went missing... I already told you everything I know.’

  ‘I understand, sir,’ said Morgan. ‘But sometimes things are overlooked and they only get remembered when we go over the story a few times.’ It also helps us catch you out in a lie, he thought.

  ‘I met Abigail at a business networking meeting in September. We had a lot in common. It seemed that no matter how hard we worked, our bosses were on our backs. We’d each had our probation periods extended and we were pissed off about it. We just clicked.’ He made eye contact with both officers, as if checking that this was the type of information they sought before continuing. ‘We met for coffee a couple of times, a few meals together, walks along the beach and the cliff tops, the usual way a relationship develops, I suppose.’

  ‘When did you decide that she was the one, Mr Kendrick?’ asked Morgan.

  ‘We spent her birthday weekend at my flat. That was at the end of November. I gave her a few presents I thought she’d like: books, a bracelet and a cashmere pashmina as well as a couple of silly little extras. When she’d finished opening everything, she said “Where’s my engagement ring?” I was surprised. I mean… I loved her, of course I did, but it seemed quite soon to be thinking about being engaged.’ Morgan saw that Spence was creating a time line of the relationship in his note book. ‘I think I said something a bit flippant like “why don’t we skip engagement and go straight to marriage?”

  ‘And she agreed?’ asked Morgan. Kendrick nodded.

  ‘It took me a couple of days to get my head round it, but I thought, why not? She was good for me. I’m Mr Conventional; Mr Boring; and she’s so full of life and adventure, or she was. Who would do that to her?’ His voice broke and he looked down to his hands which were clasped together, his knuckles, white.

  Wicks stopped writing and placed a hand on his arm. ‘I think that’s probably as much information as my client can give you,’ he said.

  ‘When you talked about your dating history, you didn’t mention clubs, or dancing,’ said Spence.

  Kendrick’s frown lines deepened. ‘Abi persuaded me to go a few of times in the early days. The music was too loud for me and I was so much older than everyone else. I hated it. Anyway, she was out of hours duty solicitor more often than not, particularly when we were paying all the bills for the wedding, so we didn’t get many opportunities for late nights.’

  ‘You mentioned that your relationship with Abi developed quite quickly, Mr Kendrick. Are you aware of any pre-existing relationships Abi may have ended when you and she became an item?’ asked Spence.

  ‘I knew she was popular, but...’

  Spence interrupted. ‘Can you define what you mean by “popular” for us?’

  ‘Wherever we went, people came to say hello. She didn’t always introduce me to them and when I asked why, she told me that some of them were clients and it was a confidentiality issue.’

  ‘Clients of both sexes?’ asked Morgan.

  ‘Mostly men... or boys, some of them. One or two women. Once, I remember, a man with massively dilated pupils came up to us while we were waiting for a taxi at the station. He thanked her for keeping him out of prison and asked for a business card. He said his mate was in trouble and needed a brief.’

  ‘Were any of these approaches, if I can call them that, were any of them acrimonious?’ Morgan watched as Kendrick searched his memory.

  ‘Just the once... I’d forgotten about it. Abi said it came with the job. This lad came up to her in the club; not sure when exactly. He was shouting and I didn’t pay much attention because everyone needed to shout to be heard over the music. It was only when the spotlight flashed across his face that I saw he was angry, so I moved closer to Abi and tried to figure out what was happening. When he saw me put my arm around her, he swore at us both, then he went away. I think we left soon afterwards, but only because it was late, not because Abi was scared. I think I was more scared.’

  Morgan and Spence exchanged a glance which was interrupted by the solicitor. ‘I really think that Mr Kendrick has given you everything he knows.’

  ‘We’ve one or two more questions for him Mr Wicks. Are you okay to continue Mr Kendrick or do you need to take a break? We can organise tea or coffee,’ said Morgan.

  ‘No thank you.’ He turned to Wicks, ‘I want to help as much as I can, Nev.’ His solicitor turned a page in his yellow notepad, seemingly resigned to the continuation of questioning.

  ‘Did Abi speak to you again about that confrontation? At any time?’ asked Spence.

  ‘No.’

  ‘Were you not curious? Did you not ask?’

  ‘She said it was nothing and that I shouldn’t worry about it.’

  ‘Did you form your own opinion about it?’

  Kendrick nodded. ‘I wondered if he might be an old boyfriend rather than a client because he was pointing at her engagement ring.’ His face became more animated. ‘So that helps me put a date on it because I didn’t give it to her until the first week of December and then we had to take it to be sized. I’m pretty sure she couldn’t wear it until around the end of the third week in December. The jewellers were very busy sizing rings for presents and for couples getting engaged at Christmas.’

  ‘Which club was it Mr Kendrick?’

  ‘The one in Grove Park. I don’t know the name.’

  ‘That’s Club Europium,’ said Spence, making a note and underlining it.

  It was dark when Morgan left his office and the car park was nearly empty. He got into the Volvo and sat, unsure where he was going to go. He didn’t want to return to the park home because the twins would be there, full of excitement and tales of their first day at the new school. He couldn’t face Sam. He felt sick at the thought.

  As soon as he reversed on to the drive at Cliffside House, Morgan knew he had made a mistake. This was Sam and Dotty’s domain and it would always have memories for his wife that he could never share. She’d probably had sex with Fletcher here too, with or without Dorothy’s blessing.

  He crashed his fists down on the steering wheel. In the space of twenty four hours a grenade had exploded in his marriage and he had lost control of a high profile investigation as well as the trust and respect of his new colleagues. He’d replayed the meeting in Johnson’s office over and over during the day. How had he overlooked that throwaway comment made by Fletcher? Why had he not gone straight back to the office and started investigations into the whereabouts of Steven Cooper? He knew exactly why and he could still hear Fletcher’s smooth, well educated tones in his head “Do tell Sammy I’m looking forward to catching up wi
th her on Sunday.” Those words were his overwhelming memory from that meeting and when his wife hadn’t mentioned the dinner until the last minute, he knew she must be in on the plan. He shouldn’t blame Dave Spence for taking it to Johnson. Maybe Spence had tried to remind him that Steven had been mentioned and he hadn’t noticed. No wonder he’d escalated it. He rested his elbows on the steering wheel and rubbed his face with his hands. Looking over his shoulder at Cliffside House, soulless and unwelcoming in the darkness, he decided he couldn’t spend the night there and headed towards Gullhaven Park Estate.

  Chapter 44

  Monday 17th February

  The lights were on in the reception building when he parked but he could see that the desk was unmanned. Morgan’s feet crunched on the gravel and as he approached, he blinked in the sudden blaze of the security lights. The dot of red light on the CCTV camera winked as it followed his progress to the glazed door. When he opened it, Maisie Sangster appeared from nowhere. She was chewing. He must have disturbed her evening meal.

  ‘I’m sorry, Maisie. I’ll come back later.’

  She swallowed and smiled broadly. ‘No matter. Are you okay?’

  ‘I have a few questions, but I can come back later.’

  She opened the flap in the counter and beckoned him through. ‘Come on, I was grabbing a few of the leftovers from the shareholders’ buffet. Thanks again for helping with the board outside, you’re a lifesaver. It’s like putting up a deckchair in a storm. There’s a knack, and I don’t have it.’ She laughed nervously. ‘I’m sorry, I’m going on a bit. Come and get something to eat. Actually, I dreamed about you last night.’

  He was caught off guard. ‘Did you?’

  ‘No, you wouldn’t let me.’ She laughed heartily and he returned her smile. His only smile of the day. He barely knew her but she was warm and funny and that’s what he needed now.

  ‘You’re not old enough to know that joke, and certainly not old enough to crack it with me.’ He followed her through the door and into a short corridor which led to her office. She stopped without warning and turned towards him leaving him no time to avoid a collision.