A Darker Place

by Rachel Amphlett

A hand shot up from the back of the group and PC Phillip Parker raised his voice. ‘Guv, we got lucky on that one – I think it’s a bloke by the name of Carl Taylor. His wife, Helen, reported him missing on Friday night. I’m waiting for confirmation from a uniform patrol who’ve gone to speak to her – she lives over at Lenham.’

  ‘Let me know as soon as you’ve got confirmation, Phillip, and if she confirms it’s him then I want you to work with Laura to put together everything you can about him – background, work, friends, the lot.’

  ‘Yes, guv.’

  ‘What do we know about Mike O’Connor so far? What’s his history?’

  Barnes cleared his throat. ‘He bought the used car business a year ago from the original owner, Marcus Tavistock – that’s who I remember running the place when we bought Emma’s car for her from there. Marcus retired, and from what I’ve managed to find out from a quick online search, O’Connor sold off all the old bangers Marcus had left and brought in newer models.’

  ‘Like you said earlier, aiming for a different clientele,’ said Kay, turning to update the notes on the whiteboard. ‘What do we know about his ex-wife’s involvement? There seems to be some antagonism there.’

  ‘I took a look at the Companies House website and she was made a non-voting shareholder at the time of the purchase,’ said Barnes. ‘It looks like she was struck off six months ago. I’m going to go through the accounting paperwork that’s on the site to see if I can find out what went on there money-wise but if I don’t find anything I’ll contact the accountant – they’re using his address as their registered office address.’

  ‘Good work, thanks. Do we know what Mike was doing before he bought the dealership?’

  ‘He and his missus ran a restaurant near Eccles,’ said Laura. ‘Ian had me looking into that while he was investigating the garage. They sold it three months before buying the used car business – I found some old news articles online and they made a huge profit. Apparently, after buying the run-down pub six years ago they turned it around and made it into an upmarket bistro sort of place and offered catering for weddings. It was featured on a travel show on television two years ago, so that probably helped. Ann – O’Connor’s ex-wife – had quite a reputation as a chef. She wrote a cookery book off the back of her television appearance.’

  ‘Any trouble while they were there?’ said Kay.

  ‘None that I could find, guv – nothing online in the news, and nothing on our system either.’

  ‘How much was the restaurant sold for?’

  ‘One point two million.’

  A chorus of low whistles filled the air, and Kay blinked.

  ‘Wow. Wish I’d gone there while they were running it now if it was that good.’ She leaned against an empty desk beside the board. ‘If they were doing so well, why sell the restaurant, I wonder?’

  ‘Might’ve just had enough,’ said Debbie. ‘Six years is a long time in that industry, isn’t it? Especially in one place.’

  ‘Maybe the shine was starting to wear off,’ Barnes added. ‘Both in the business and the marriage – after all, it looks like she filed for divorce within a few months of him buying the used car place.’

  ‘It seems a strange choice – buying that after the restaurant. And why the three-month wait in the middle?’ said Kay. ‘Gav – can you find out from Mike O’Connor what went on there?’

  ‘No problem, guv.’

  ‘Right then, other actions for the day.’ Kay paused, flipped back a page in her notebook and scanned the words, raising her gaze as a mobile phone began to ring. She spotted Parker answering his, then turned her attention back to the rest of the team. ‘We need more background on Mike and Ann O’Connor – find out who their friends and business associates are. Has anyone spoken to Ann this morning?’

  ‘Uniform broke the news to her half an hour ago,’ said Laura.

  ‘I’d like you to do a follow-up interview with her, and take Gavin. Make it formal, just in case.’ Kay’s brow furrowed. ‘Until we know more about our victim, everyone’s a suspect.’

  ‘Okay, will do.’

  Parker waited until she finished speaking, leaning forward in his seat. ‘Guv – I think Carl Taylor is our man. Uniform are at the house, and his wife’s told them he works as a delivery driver – for a frozen food distributor.’

  The room exploded with noise as the team absorbed the news.

  Kay held up her hand. ‘Quiet please, everyone. Phillip – did you get a note of his employer’s name?’

  ‘Yes, guv.’

  ‘Right – Gavin and Laura, change of plan. Interview Ann O’Connor tomorrow and get yourselves over to Carl’s employers now. Barnes – you’re with me. I want to speak to Helen Taylor myself and find out what her husband has been up to, and why he was found at Mike O’Connor’s sales yard.’

  Kay paused to check her watch. ‘We’ll reconvene here at four o’clock for a further briefing. Dismissed.’

  Chapter Six

  Gavin forced his hands to relax on the steering wheel as he accelerated towards Hawkenbury, adrenalin coursing through his body while Laura called out directions from the passenger seat beside him.

  The landscape flashed past his window, leafy oak and horse chestnut trees blurring with grass verges as he powered the car out of Maidstone, pushing the speed limit.

  Laura wrapped her left hand through the strap above her window as he took a particularly sharp right-hand turn, and he relaxed his jaw when the road straightened once more.

  ‘All right, Lewis Hamilton,’ she said through gritted teeth. ‘I know this is urgent but I’d like to get there in one piece.’

  In response, Gavin checked his mirrors, then overtook a slow-moving moped rider.

  ‘How far along here is it?’ he said, easing his foot off the accelerator as a signpost came into view.

  ‘Just up here. Look out for their logo on a square signboard – you can’t miss it.’

  He started to brake when he spotted it, turning in to a driveway bordered by wire mesh fencing that separated the depot from the main road.

  Gravel shot out from under his tyres as he slowed to the speed limit imposed by the owners of the truck fleet, and he peered through the windscreen at the low-slung office buildings set at the rear of the broad yard.

  Following the signs for car parking, he threaded the vehicle between a mixture of medium-sized and small trucks – all of which had refrigeration units attached to them.

  The firm’s logo was emblazoned down the side of each trailer, the cheerful colours at odds with the reason for their visit.

  A demarcated route led them to a car park devoid of trucks at the rear of the office buildings, and Laura jerked her chin towards the reception doors that faced them after Gavin braked in a spot marked for visitors.

  ‘Someone’s keen to speak to us, look.’

  A man in crumpled grey suit trousers was hurrying towards the vehicle, his blue shirt sleeves rolled up and sweat patches under his arms. His thin hair looked as if he’d been running his hand through it all morning.

  He paused a few metres from the car, his expression one of a man with a lot of questions, and no answers.

  ‘Are you the police?’ he said, his gaze moving from Gavin to Laura when they climbed out. ‘Is this about Carl?’

  Gavin locked the car and crossed to where the man moved from foot to foot, wringing his hands.

  ‘And you are, sir?’

  ‘Simon Thomas. Depot manager.’

  ‘I’m Detective Constable Gavin Piper, and this is my colleague DC Laura Hanway. Is there somewhere we could talk inside?’

  ‘Of course, please – follow me.’

  Thomas turned away without waiting for an answer, and Gavin took a moment to share a glance with Laura before following the man, his thoughts racing while he rephrased his planned interview questions.

  The depot manager led them through the glass reception doors, past a woman at a desk in a box-like office on the other side, then left through a
solid wooden door and into a conference room.

  The oval pine-effect table in the middle seated six, and Thomas gestured to the seats farthest from the door, before sinking into a seat opposite.

  Laura already had her notebook out ready by the time Gavin pulled out a chair for her, and he wasted no more time.

  ‘Mr Thomas, you don’t seem surprised to see us.’

  ‘Carl didn’t turn up for work this morning,’ said the man, drumming his fingers on the desk while the thin skin under his left eye twitched. ‘I wasn’t going to panic, not until I’d spoken with him – after all, staff fall ill, family issues, that sort of thing – but then Sally out there on reception saw the news online half an hour ago. The dead man found frozen to death – it’s Carl, isn’t it?’

  His words came out in a rush, tinged with panic, fear.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ said Gavin. ‘Yes, we believe it is.’

  Thomas stopped fidgeting, his fingers falling silent. ‘My God. Poor Helen.’

  ‘We need to ask you a few questions, Mr Thomas––’

  ‘Of course, of course – go ahead.’

  ‘When was the last time you saw Carl?’

  ‘Friday morning. All the drivers clock in from about six-thirty onwards. We spoke about a mechanical issue with the truck he’d been driving that week and agreed it would go in for a service later this month.’

  ‘What sort of mechanical issue?’

  ‘He thought that the clutch was going. It was replaced a couple of years ago, so it’s due.’

  Gavin craned his neck to peer through the window beyond Thomas’s chair to the trucks peppering the yard beyond. ‘Is one of those his?’

  ‘No, that’s the thing, you see.’ The finger drumming started again. ‘I got a text message from Carl to say he was running late on Friday afternoon because he got a flat tyre and that he planned to drop off the trainee at home on the way back once he’d fixed it. He said he’d park the truck at home afterwards and come back to fetch his car over the weekend.’

  Gavin heard Laura’s intake of breath as his heart skipped a beat. ‘What trainee?’

  ‘Will Nivens. He lives with his mum over near Tovil. He passed his Class 2 licence last month and came to us through one of the agencies in Maidstone to drive one of the rigid trucks we use.’

  ‘Did Will turn up for work this morning?’

  ‘No – and both his car and Carl’s are still out there. And our truck is still missing.’

  ‘Have you spoken to Will?’

  ‘Their manager, Adele, tried calling his mobile this morning but there’s no answer, and when she phoned his next of kin details on file and spoke to his mum, she was told he hadn’t been seen since Friday.’

  ‘Has his mum reported him missing?’ said Laura.

  ‘No – but she was going to if he didn’t show up by this afternoon. Will told us he was meeting some friends after work on Friday and they were going up to London for the weekend so none of us worried,’ said Thomas. His brow puckered. ‘Until we saw the news, of course.’

  ‘Why haven’t you reported this earlier today?’

  ‘Because I thought there would be a simple explanation for all of this. None of us wanted to believe that was Carl you found.’ His eyes turned desperate. ‘What’s going on? If Carl’s dead, where’s Will?’

  Gavin pushed back his chair, indicated to Laura to follow him and moved to the door. ‘I’d be grateful if you said nothing to your staff at the moment, Mr Thomas. We’ll send over a uniform team to take a formal statement from you shortly.’

  He raced from the room and through the reception area, Laura at his heels. Tossing the car keys to her as they ran towards their vehicle, he pulled his mobile from his pocket and put it to his ear as he got in.

  ‘Back to the incident room?’ said Laura, pulling away so fast he was thrown back in his seat.

  ‘Yes – quickly as you can.’ Gavin gritted his teeth as he fastened his seatbelt. ‘I’ll let Kay know she needs to meet us there.’

  Chapter Seven

  Helen Taylor was a tiny woman with spindly arms poking out from a sleeveless summer top.

  Eyes filled with grief, her overall appearance when PC Aaron Stewart led Kay and Barnes into the living room of a semi-detached house on the fringes of Lenham was of a gaunt figure who looked as though she would fade away at the slightest breeze.

  She rose from a tan-coloured armchair and held out a slim hand to Kay. ‘Aaron tells me you’re the detective in charge of finding out who murdered my husband.’

  Her voice was soft, reed-like.

  Kay gave her hand a gentle squeeze. ‘I am, and I promise you I’ll do everything within my powers to bring them to justice. I’m so sorry for your loss.’

  ‘Thank you. Would you like to take a seat?’

  Barnes remained standing, notebook in hand, while Kay lowered herself into an armchair.

  She took a brief moment to collect her thoughts while she gazed around the room, her eyes taking in the framed photographs of Carl and his wife on their wedding day and various holidays and events since. She turned back to Helen Taylor, and saw the woman watching her.

  ‘I’ve seen you on the television,’ Helen said, and dabbed her nose with a paper handkerchief. ‘When there’s an appeal for a crime you’re trying to solve.’

  The woman paused, swallowed, and then took a deep breath. ‘I never thought it’d be me you’d be trying to help. This sort of thing happens to other people, doesn’t it?’

  ‘I’m sorry, Mrs Taylor.’

  ‘Helen, please.’

  ‘Thank you. How long were you and Carl married?’

  ‘Thirteen years.’ A faint smile brushed the woman’s lips. ‘We met a little later in life – I’d just split up from a long-term relationship and Carl was the same. It was my thirtieth birthday – I was out celebrating with a couple of close friends, and he was at the bar we went to with some work colleagues. We bumped into each other on the way out and went for a drink somewhere quieter. We’ve been together ever since.’

  Kay paused a moment while fresh tears streamed down Helen’s cheeks.

  ‘When did you last speak with your husband?’

  ‘Friday morning – he phoned me at work to ask if I could leave early.’

  ‘Why was that?’

  ‘He said that he’d arranged for a plumber to come around. He sounded so… well, insistent. I mean, it wasn’t a problem for me to leave early – I’m only a contractor anyway and I haven’t had any time off since I started eighteen months ago – but it was the way he asked. Like it was really urgent and he wouldn’t take no for an answer if I’d said that.’

  ‘What time did he phone you?’

  Helen’s gaze dropped to the carpet, and she frowned. ‘I can’t remember for certain. About half past ten, perhaps?’

  ‘So you left early, and came back here?’

  ‘Yes. I got home at two o’clock – he said the plumber wasn’t due until about two-thirty.’

  ‘Where do you work, Mrs Taylor?’ said Barnes.

  She twisted in her chair to face him, lifting her chin slightly. ‘I’m a receptionist at a firm of solicitors in Sittingbourne. They specialise in personal injury claims, insurance, things like that.’

  ‘Mrs Taylor, have you or your husband received any threats in recent months?’

  ‘No,’ she sniffed. ‘That’s what I don’t understand. Carl wouldn’t harm anyone – he’s a delivery driver, for goodness’ sakes.’

  ‘Have you had any issues with friends, perhaps, family?’

  ‘No, nothing like that.’ Helen paused, then gestured to the photographs lining the bookcase. ‘Carl and I didn’t have a wide social circle, to be honest. Neither of us is on social media. We spent what we saved on travelling. I suppose we’re quite introverted – we love… loved our own company.’

  Kay lowered her gaze as Helen’s eyes filled with fresh tears. ‘Helen, I’m sorry but I have to ask these questions. Do you know if Carl might’ve b
een having issues at work? Did he have any concerns that he spoke to you about?’

  The other woman shook her head, plucked a fresh tissue from a box on a small wooden table next to her armchair and twisted it between her fingers. ‘No. He would’ve told me if he was worried about anything. That’s why I was panicking by the time I reported him missing. It was so unlike him. I knew something was wrong…’

  Kay’s phone started to vibrate from within her bag, and she gave Helen an apologetic glance before checking the screen.

  ‘I’m sorry, Helen, but I have to take this call.’

  She didn’t wait for a response. She signalled to Barnes to follow her out to the hallway and swiped the screen the moment he shut the living room door.

  ‘Gavin?’

  ‘Guv, you need to get back to the incident room. Now.’

  Chapter Eight

  A rising panic threatened as Laura swept aside the reports piling up on her desk and logged in to her computer.

  She and Gavin had returned to the incident room fifteen minutes ago, her colleague sharing the news about Will Niven’s disappearance with the team by phone while she drove back. Now he was issuing orders that would at least get the search for him underway while they waited for the arrival of Kay and Barnes.

  It was pandemonium – the entire space was filled with phones ringing, colleagues shouting to be heard over one another, and underlying it all was the fear that a young man was either dying or dead.

  Laura glanced across the room to where Gavin stood, his arms crossed over his chest while he listened to PS Hughes speaking to headquarters, requesting additional help from uniformed officers to assist alongside the investigation team.

  His whole body language emanated a quiet confidence, his voice no more than a murmur in contrast to the noise around him.

  She hoped she would one day assume the same responsibilities with such outward calm.

  ‘Laura, have you got that list of the places on Carl and Will’s route from Friday?’

  Phillip Parker’s voice jolted her from her thoughts and she looked up to find him hovering beside her desk.