Tony leaned back in his chair and began drumming on the table with a biro. ‘I’ll tell you what this is, Clare. This is my ticket to Regional Superintendent. That’s what it is.’
Clare gaped.
‘Oh yes. Your good buddy Superintendent Campbell – surely you remember asking him to reassign Chris to you after he so kindly decked me? Yeah? Well he’s retiring.’
‘I didn’t know.’
‘I bet you didn’t. I’m guessing you’ll miss having him to run to. But if this case goes well, then I’ll be hard to beat. So, if I were you, Detective Inspector, I’d keep in with me.’
Chapter 9
Clare found Chris in the incident room, staring at a computer screen.
‘Come on,’ she said. ‘We’ve to go and check on the Mitchells again.’
‘Seriously?’
‘Tony’s orders.’ She noticed Chris’s fists were balled. ‘Look, take it easy. He’s a lazy bugger so if we keep busy you’ll not see much of him.’
‘I really hate him, Clare. Arrogant bastard.’
‘I know,’ she said, slapping him on the back. ‘I know.’ They walked out of the station and made for the car park.
‘He dumped Emily, you know,’ Chris went on. ‘Only a couple of months after I found out about them. He didn’t even want her. Just wanted to prove he could.’
They climbed into the car. Clare thought it wise to change the subject. ‘Any of the miscarriages look likely?’
‘Nope. They’ve checked out all but two. One’s still in hospital, the other’s on holiday.’
‘Abroad?’
‘England, I think. Supposedly headed off on Saturday, which would rule them out. But I’ll check that. I’ve got the car registration so I’ll notify all forces and see if we can track them down.’
‘Okay. Let’s see how the Mitchells are today.’
They found Lisa Mitchell glued to the TV, watching Judge Judy lose patience with two neighbours who were arguing over a broken fence.
‘Kevin’s clearing out the garden shed,’ Wendy told them. ‘Said he’s better doing something.’
‘I’ll see him in a few minutes.’ Clare sat down opposite Lisa. ‘How are things, Lisa?’
The girl turned to her with a glazed expression. ‘You found Abi yet?’
‘Not yet. But we’re following up a number of different leads.’
‘Leads?’ Lisa slurred. Clare thought she didn’t seem quite right. She shot a glance at Wendy, who mimed swallowing pills.
‘The doctor’s given Lisa a sedative,’ Wendy said aloud.
‘Have you had any phone calls, Lisa? Letters? Anyone been in touch?’
‘Reporters,’ Lisa said. ‘Lotsa reporters.’ She looked towards the window. ‘See them in the street.’
‘I’m sorry about that. We’ll have them pushed back.’
‘Good.’ Lisa closed her eyes and sank back into the sofa. On the TV, one neighbour was accusing the other of deliberately knocking down two fence panels. The other neighbour was yelling back. Judy bore it for a minute or two then told the first neighbour he was a moron. Clare left Lisa watching the proceedings and motioned to Wendy to follow her into the kitchen.
‘Anything?’ she asked.
‘Not much,’ Wendy said. ‘She’s called that same number again. Another three calls.’
‘Was she on for long?’
‘Two minutes or less. The last one was only thirty seconds.’
‘How does she seem?’
‘So-so. I think she’s mixed up her tablets and taken the ones for night, but if it gets her through the day, what’s the harm?’
‘And Kevin?’
‘He’s quiet for a bit, then he cries, then he goes quiet again. He won’t take any tablets. Says he needs to be alert for Abi.’
‘Okay, Wendy. Look, I’d like to speak to Lisa again but not while she’s like this. If you could let me know when she’s a bit more lucid?’
‘Will do.’
Clare and Chris walked down the garden to find Kevin sitting on a stool in the shed. He didn’t move as they approached and Clare tapped on the open door. ‘Hi Kevin.’
He looked up, his face expressionless. ‘Hi.’
‘Mind if we come in?’
Kevin stood to let them come in. ‘Nowhere to sit. Unless you’d like…’ And he indicated the stool.
‘That’s okay. Listen, Kevin, I have a very difficult question to ask you. I’m sorry, but it’s important we consider absolutely everything. It might help us find Abi. Is that all right?’
Kevin looked at them, a spark of interest in his eyes. ‘Of course. Anything.’
Clare swallowed. But there was no putting it off. ‘Kevin, have either you or Lisa been involved with someone else?’
He stared.
‘Kevin, have you had a girlfriend? Since your marriage, I mean?’
Kevin looked from Clare to Chris then back at Clare. ‘What? Why are you saying this? Of course not!’
‘And Lisa? Could she have been seeing someone else? Another man?’
Kevin’s brow furrowed and his eyes darted around, as though trying to make sense of this. And then he said, ‘My Lisa?’ His voice was hoarse. ‘My Lisa with another bloke? You serious?’
‘I’m so sorry, Kevin. We have to ask.’
He shook his head. ‘I don’t believe you people. First I lose my baby and now you’re trying to tell me I’ve lost my wife as well?’
Chris put a hand on his arm. ‘Kevin, mate…’
Kevin shrugged Chris’s hand off. ‘I’m not your mate!’
Chris stepped back with his palms raised. ‘Sorry, Kevin. Look, we know it’s probably not true. But look at it from our point of view. We’re trying to find Abi. That’s it. Our only priority. Now if Lisa had been knocking about with someone else, maybe he wanted to get back at her by snatching her baby. Maybe whoever it was even thought Abi might be his. Now, none of this is pretty. We know that. But sometimes we have to think these things and say them too. So, we’re sorry about that but we need to know everything – and I mean everything – if we’re to stand a chance of finding Abi. See what I mean?’
Clare shot Chris a warning glance but he ignored her.
‘Kevin?’ he said again.
Kevin sank back down onto his stool. He put his head in his hands and his shoulders began to shake. Clare opened her mouth but Chris forestalled her with a look. He let Kevin sob for a few minutes then spoke again.
‘Okay, Kevin. We need a name. Address too, if you have it.’
Kevin raised his head and drew a hand across his eyes. ‘She thinks I don’t know.’
They waited. Then Chris said again, ‘A name, Kevin.’
He looked at Chris. ‘You really think he could have our Abi?’
Chris’s expression didn’t alter. ‘Almost certainly not. But we have to check every single thing. It’s thorough checking that’ll bring Abi back. So – name, please?’
* * *
Back in the car, Clare said, ‘That was bloody amazing, Chris. Well done.’
He smiled. ‘Sometimes, with blokes, the gentle approach doesn’t work. Bit of straight talking’s more effective. Cruel to be kind and all that.’
Clare started the engine with a new respect for her DS. ‘So what’s the address?’
Chris checked his notebook. ‘He actually lives in Cupar but I reckon we should head to his work. Catch him there.’
* * *
The last time Clare had driven through the gates of the Kenlybank Hotel was to investigate a series of hit-and-run murders. As the car crunched up the gravel drive towards the car park at the rear, she thought back to that case and the tangle of crimes at the heart of it. She shivered involuntarily, a gesture that didn’t escape Chris.
‘Back here again, eh?’ he said.
‘Yep.’ She killed the engine. ‘Come on then. Let’s see if we can track him down.’
By coincidence, the duty manager, Pawel Nowicki, had also been at the reception desk
on the night of that hit-and-run, all those months ago. As usual, he was as neat as a pin, in a plain grey suit and white shirt with a dark red tie. He smiled as they approached, although there was a hint of concern in his eyes.
‘Inspector,’ he said. ‘How lovely to see you again. Not on business, I hope?’
‘It’s good to see you too, Pawel,’ she said. ‘But I’m afraid it is an official matter.’
‘Then you must tell me how I can help.’
‘We’d like to speak to a member of your staff, please. I gather he’s one of the chefs.’
‘His name?’
Chris checked his notebook again. ‘It’s Philip Patrick.’
Pawel frowned. ‘Oh yes, Phil. He’s our pastry chef. I’m afraid he’ll be rather busy, preparing for the afternoon teas. All our pastries are handmade in the kitchen, you see. I don’t suppose it could wait?’
Clare shook her head. ‘Sorry Pawel, I’m afraid not. It’s a matter of some urgency.’
Pawel gave Clare a little bow. ‘Of course, Inspector.’ He pressed a bell on the desk and a girl appeared from a door behind him. ‘Could you go to the kitchen please, Maria, and ask Phil Patrick to come to reception?’
The girl made to move but Clare stopped her. If Phil was involved with Abi’s abduction, she didn’t want him alerted.
‘If you don’t mind,’ she said to Pawel, ‘I think we’ll go with Maria. Save time.’
Pawel hesitated then gave Maria a brief nod.
The girl led Chris and Clare along a corridor to a pair of doors marked In and Out. ‘This way,’ she said, opening the In door. They followed her into a large room, with huge cooking ranges around the edge and stainless steel workstations in the centre. A man dressed in pale blue from head to toe was loading an enormous dishwasher while others in white uniforms and aprons chopped and sautéed as if their lives depended on it. A woman dressed in chef’s whites was barking instructions in all directions and Clare wondered how any of them knew what they were doing.
Maria steered them over to the side, out of the way of the double doors, which swung to and fro with a steady stream of waiting staff. She approached a man dressed in blue and white striped trousers and a white tunic. He wore a tall chef’s hat and was bent over a tray of delicate tarts, a piping gun in his hand. Clare heard nothing over the clamour, but could see Maria speaking to him and guessed he was answering as he piped. At one point he straightened up and glanced across at them. He said something else, then bent over his tarts again. Clare was ready to go over and march him straight outside, but Chris put a warning hand on her arm.
Maria came back over. ‘He says can you wait two minutes while he finishes piping some tarts, then he’ll be right with you.’
Clare thanked Maria and she left them to wait.
* * *
A young lad in a pale blue uniform was sitting at a plastic-topped table, reading a newspaper and eating a cheese roll when Phil Patrick led Clare and Chris into the small staff room. The table was cluttered with dirty mugs and plates which the lad had used to prop up his paper. On the wall opposite the door there was a vending machine with an Out of Order notice sellotaped across the middle. Someone had added Owes me 50p! to the notice.
The lad looked up as they entered. Phil gestured at the door and the lad left without a word, eyeing Clare as he went. Phil closed the door behind him, then turned to face them.
‘So?’
Clare said, ‘Mr Patrick…’
‘Phil’s fine.’
‘Phil, then. Do you know Lisa Mitchell?’
He looked at Clare for a moment then said, ‘I’m guessing you know I do. Otherwise you wouldn’t be here.’
‘Can you tell us how you know Lisa?’
‘Again, I think you already know.’
‘All the same, I’d like to hear it from you.’
He sighed. ‘All right, then. Lisa and I had a relationship.’
‘Had?’
‘Had.’
‘Can you tell me when it ended?’
‘Just over a week ago, as it happens. Saturday before last.’
‘And was that your decision? Or Lisa’s?’
He avoided Clare’s eyes. ‘Hers.’
‘Did she give a reason?’
Phil shook his head. ‘Said it was a mistake. She felt guilty. It wasn’t fair to Kevin or Abi.’ He raised his eyes to Clare’s again. ‘She was bored with me, Inspector. She’d had her fun. Wanted to go back to playing happy families.’ He swallowed and cleared his throat. ‘Can I ask… I mean, is there any sign of Abi?’
Clare ignored the question. ‘How long had the relationship been going on?’
‘About four or five weeks.’
She counted back in her head. ‘So you started seeing Lisa Mitchell, let’s say, sometime in August?’
He avoided her eye. ‘Yeah, about then.’
Clare studied his expression. Was he telling the truth? Something didn’t feel right about what he was saying. ‘How did you and Lisa meet?’
His shoulders sagged. ‘Okay. I’ve actually known Lisa for a few years. Met at college. We had a bit of a thing back then. But it fizzled out – you know, ran its course. Anyway…’
They waited.
‘It’s one of those things. Now and then, one of us will get a bit… fidgety, like. Call the other up, a few drinks, sometimes it leads to something, sometimes it doesn’t.’
Chris folded his arms. ‘You’re fuck buddies?’
Phil had the grace to look abashed. ‘I wouldn’t put it quite like that.’
‘How would you put it?’
‘We like each other. We’re attracted to each other. But it wouldn’t last. That’s what she said anyway.’
Clare took over. ‘How did you feel when she broke it off, Phil?’
A stud had come undone on his tunic. He fiddled with it, popping it back into place. ‘Dunno. To be honest, it wasn’t the same this time. Lisa – she seemed more distracted, like. Plus Kevin not being away on the rigs – well, he’s around more, isn’t he? Didn’t make it easy – to see each other, you know.’
Clare said, ‘Any idea what was distracting her?’
Phil shrugged. ‘Don’t ask me. I mean, we were okay for a couple of weeks. Then she never seemed to have the time. Not for me anyway. Always busy, you know?’
‘Busy with what?’
‘Dunno. Abi, I suppose. Hospital appointments and that.’ He looked up at Clare. ‘Having the baby – it made a difference.’
Clare did a quick mental calculation. ‘Were you seeing her last summer? Around about June, say?’
He looked up, surprised. ‘I’ve no idea. Probably not. Why?’ And then his face cleared. ‘Oh, I get it. You think Abi’s mine, don’t you?’
Clare watched him carefully. ‘Is she?’
He snorted. ‘No chance. I’m not the type. Too careful.’
‘What about Lisa? Is she careful too?’
Phil shook his head. ‘Inspector, if that baby’s mine, it’s the first I’ve heard of it.’ He glanced at the clock on the wall. ‘Now, if you don’t mind…’
Clare stood up. ‘I’d like you to accompany us to your house just now, Phil. And we’d like your permission to search it. You can of course refuse but that refusal would be noted and we will apply for a warrant anyway.’
He shook his head. ‘You do know this is my busiest time? I’ve a hundred more pastries to make for this afternoon.’
‘Too busy to help us rule you out as a suspect in the abduction of a baby?’
He slapped a hand on his forehead. ‘A baby I know nothing about.’ His voice rose. ‘How many times do I have to tell you? I’m not baby material. Why would a single guy like me want to take her?’
‘No need to get angry, sir,’ Chris said. ‘The quicker we go, the quicker you’ll be back.’
Phil thought for a minute. Then he said, ‘No, I won’t go. I’ll come with you if you’ll wait a couple of hours but I can’t leave the kitchen just now. You’ll have to ar
rest me if you want me now.’
Clare looked at him, unsmiling. ‘As you wish. We’ll just motor over to your house ourselves, then. And, of course, if we have any suspicions that there is evidence of a crime being committed we’ll be duty bound to break in.’
‘Duty bound,’ Chris repeated.
Phil regarded them. ‘Jesus, you guys just do what the hell you like, don’t you?’
‘We do when there’s a child’s life on the line,’ Chris said.
Phil sighed and stared at the floor. ‘Give me five minutes.’
* * *
Phil Patrick lived in a small, terraced house on a side street behind the shopping centre in nearby Cupar. ‘You’ll have to excuse the mess,’ he said, as he put his key in the door.
He led them through a small, dark hallway into a sitting room. The sofa was strewn with an assortment of clothes, the coffee table in front of it bearing the remains of his last meal.
‘Look wherever you like,’ he said, perching on the end of the sofa. ‘I’ve nothing to hide.’
The kitchen was little better than the sitting room, the sink full of unwashed dishes.
‘He obviously doesn’t bring his work home with him,’ Chris whispered, taking in the mess. ‘Even I’m tidier than this.’
They checked the cupboards for evidence of baby formula, went through the bins for nappies, but there was no sign that a baby had been anywhere near Phil’s house.
A thorough search of the bathroom and bedroom followed. After almost an hour, Clare was satisfied that Abi hadn’t been in the house.
‘Come on,’ she said, ‘we’ll run you back.’
‘An apology would be nice,’ Phil said, climbing into the back of the car.
Chris nodded. ‘I imagine so.’
Chapter 10
Clare stopped the car at the edge of the road, just outside the hotel. They watched as Phil strode up the drive towards the kitchen at the back.
‘I wouldn’t fancy being one of his juniors this afternoon,’ Chris said.
Clare checked over her shoulder and pulled the car back out into the road. ‘Fancy a trip to the protest camp?’
In Plain Sight Page 8
