Hush Little Baby (DC Beth Chamberlain)

by Jane Isaac

  ‘Oh, wow!’ Lily said, holding up the pink digital camera. Gasps followed as friends rushed in and crowded around them.

  ‘It’s waterproof,’ Beth said to Lily, ‘so you can take photos underwater.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Lily placed the camera down carefully and turned over the case in her hands.

  ‘The camera is from me and the case from Nick.’

  ‘Is Nick here?’ A pink-faced Eden brought up the rear of the group of children, gently herding them into the kitchen.

  Beth threw her an affectionate smile. ‘Afraid not. He had to work.’ The relief on Nick’s face was amusing when she’d dropped him at the station to book in the DNA sample and check on intelligence earlier. Somehow the laborious task of searching for Scott Owen was more palatable than entertaining a bunch of eight-years-olds, however fond he was of Lily. ‘But he’s expecting to see lots of photos,’ Beth said to her niece. The child beamed back at her.

  ‘Right, everyone to the table,’ Eden said, clapping her hands.

  The next hour passed in a whirl of sandwiches, crisps and trifle, the din of excited chatter only broken momentarily when Eden brought out the birthday cake. It was designed like an Olympic swimming pool complete with lanes and the head and goggles of a swimmer in one of them. Everyone gaped. Beth’s heart warmed at her niece’s wonderment. Like Beth, Lily had taken up competitive swimming before she started school. Always at her happiest in water.

  Beth occupied herself with cutting and wrapping slices of cake in small serviettes and very soon parents were calling to pick up their little ones. ‘Shame Chris couldn’t make it,’ she said to Eden as she waved off Chloe and Alex.

  ‘He’s working,’ Eden said, her face souring at the mention of her husband; their messy separation, only months earlier, still fresh in her mind. ‘He came over this morning, gave her a card and a present. They’re going bowling tomorrow evening together to celebrate.’

  ‘You two finally seem to be sorting everything out.’

  ‘We’re agreeing on custody, keeping it simple for Lily, if that’s what you mean.’

  Beth touched her arm. ‘I’m pleased.’ The breakup hadn’t been without its sticky moments and it was reassuring to see Eden so buoyant.

  Eden grabbed a bin liner and started sweeping the contents of the table into it. ‘Are you still okay to drive us to the airport on Monday?’ she asked.

  Beth collected a cloth and wiped the tabletop. ‘Yeah, sure.’

  ‘You’ve forgotten.’

  ‘I haven’t. It’s your trip to…’

  ‘Lapland! Lily’s really looking forward to it.’

  ‘I bet. You’ll have a lovely time.’

  ‘I will if my lift arrives to take me to the airport. 6 p.m., okay?’

  Beth laughed. ‘6 p.m. on Monday evening. I’ll be there.’

  Lily wandered in, camera in hand, and clicked a photo of them both.

  ‘Someone’s going to be busy,’ Beth said grabbing her jacket.

  Eden thanked her for coming. Beth hugged them both and lifted the rubbish bags. ‘I’ll put these in the bin on my way out.’

  A bustling wind hit Beth as she stepped outside, billowing her jacket as she moved down the side of the house and placed the bin bags in the wheelie bin. She was still battling with her jacket, pulling it across her chest when a figure emerged from a car parked at the end of the driveway. A very familiar figure.

  Beth halted and watched Kyle Thompson approach. ‘What are you doing here?’ she said.

  His hair was shorter than she remembered, razored to number two, and he’d grown a goatee beard. A silver stud glistened in his ear. More than ever, his dark features resembled the mugshot taken of him when he was charged for aggravated burglary in his early twenties, the most recent of a string of offences on his police file.

  After he was released from prison, he’d taken a job managing Starling’s Bar in town, although station intelligence suggested it was a front to a drugs ring he was involved with, and he was flexing his muscles, moving up the chain.

  He was also Eden’s ex-boyfriend, the man who broke up her marriage.

  Kyle slowed in front of her. ‘Now that’s not a very nice welcome, is it?’

  Beth gritted her teeth. When the relationship was outed, Beth had faced an internal investigation over a potentially compromising association, and Chris, Eden’s ex-husband, also a cop, threatened to fight for full custody of Lily. Eden was forced into a corner and claimed she’d given Kyle up. But within weeks he’d moved across town, buying a house in their village to be closer to her and Beth was pretty sure they had continued to see each other behind closed doors, however much Eden denied it.

  And his presence here today did nothing to curb that presumption.

  ‘I asked you a question,’ she said.

  He held up the present in his hand and Beth pressed her teeth together harder, the Finding Nemo wrapping paper irking her all the more. ‘The same as you, I guess.’

  ‘You’re not welcome, Kyle.’

  ‘Just being neighbourly. No crime in that is there.’

  They stood for several seconds, Beth blocking his path – standing so close she was breathing in the sickly-sweet smell of his aftershave – until the back door opened.

  ‘Kyle!’ Eden cried. ‘Didn’t know you were coming.’

  ‘You know me, not one to miss a party,’ he said, eyes still on Beth.

  Eden glanced at the present in his hand. ‘I’m about to put Lily to bed. If you’re quick, you’ll catch her.’

  He nodded. Gave Beth one last stare and pushed past her into the house.

  ‘What’s going on?’ Beth said to her sister. ‘I thought—’

  ‘Leave it.’

  ‘How many times have we been here?’

  ‘We’re friends.’

  ‘Great company for Lily to keep.’ Anger boiled in Beth’s veins as she made off towards her car. Two years younger than her, Eden had never been easy. Always drawn to anything with an inherent risk. She’d settled with Chris, but it wasn’t long before Kyle caught her eye and turned everything upside down. Only a couple of months earlier, she’d said they were finished. And here they were again.

  ‘Beth, please!’ her sister called after her.

  ‘I can’t do this,’ she said, holding up a flat hand.

  Eden was still in the driveway, watching as she pulled off and drove out of the close. Beth imagined Kyle inside, chatting with Lily and her anger tightened a notch. He knew she couldn’t be associated with him, yet he wouldn’t leave her sister alone. It was almost as if he was playing some kind of game, goading her. The organised crime unit had opened a file, looking into his earnings at her request, checking to see if his legitimate income supported his outgoings. If they could prove he was living off the proceeds of crime, they could slap a charge on him. That had been weeks ago. Initially DS Osborne at organised crime had been giving her daily updates. But it wasn’t long before they’d fallen on a big drugs bust and his attention was taken elsewhere. Financial investigations took ages to conduct, they had to follow the paper trail on every purchase. She made a mental note to contact DS Osborne tomorrow and check on the status of their case. Anything to remove him until Eden found a fresh focus.

  32

  Beth glanced up at the low clouds as she pulled onto her driveway. It was almost 7.30 p.m. She checked her messages. The local community officer for Kettering still hadn’t got back to her and Pip Edwards’ earlier words about Scott were dancing a jig in her mind. Where was he?

  She sat in the car, mulling this over, when the kernel of an idea formed in her mind. Kettering was only ten minutes’ drive from Mawsley. Maybe she could take a look herself.

  Her mobile trilled, distracting her. ‘Nick’ flashed up on the screen.

  ‘Hi,’ she breathed. ‘You okay?’

  ‘Yes.’ He sounded weary. ‘I’ve been working on a case to secure more staff for the investigation. Just about to leave. Do you want me to pick up a takea
way?’

  ‘Um… I’m heading out actually,’ she said, her idea developing.

  ‘Going anywhere interesting?’

  ‘Thought I might visit the billboards on Northampton Road in Kettering. See who’s there this evening.’

  ‘Beth!’ His tone raised a decibel. ‘We got uniform to check out the area earlier. There was no one there.’

  ‘It was probably too early. They’ll be bedding down for the night now.’

  ‘We can get a patrol car to check. The community officer will be able to tell us more when he’s back in the morning.’

  She paused. She’d soaked up the energy from the kids and suddenly a couple of hours of old-fashioned police work, trudging the streets, questioning the local homeless community for any sightings in the fresh air seemed appealing. It couldn’t be noisier than a bunch of eight-year-olds.

  ‘The patrol cars are busy enough. I might have a wander, speak to a few people. Get a feel for whether he’s been around.’

  ‘Right. I’ll meet you there.’

  ‘There’s no need.’

  ‘I’m already on my way.’

  *

  The air was thick with the promise of rain by the time Beth arrived in Kettering. She parked up in the town centre, in the empty bays opposite the library, and checked her watch. Nick wouldn’t be there to meet her for at least another twenty minutes. Maybe she should make a start before the heavens opened.

  She climbed out of the car and turned the corner. Northampton Road was quiet, devoid of the daytime congestion. The wind picked up as she traipsed down the road. By the time she’d reached the bottom, a soft rain was peppering her shoulders.

  The billboards loomed in front. Two of them, forming a corner to the roundabout. One advertising dog food, the other a tribute band playing at a nearby theatre. The lights beneath each, creating an iridescent glow stretching up to the sky.

  Beneath them, crisp packets and empty takeaway cartons littered the pavement. Behind, trees and shrubbery covered the bank to the railway line at the top.

  Beth snuck behind the billboards.

  It was darker back there, the boards providing the perfect barrier to the lights outside. She could just about make out a narrow strip of scrub ground before the bank rose to a steep incline. Tree branches hung over the area, creating a natural canopy and, even at this time of year, it was surprisingly dry beneath. More takeaway boxes, plastics bags and used cans were scattered around the area, punctuated by a couple of makeshift shelters.

  Beth pulled out her torch and switched it on, illuminating the area in a tunnel of light.

  ‘Hey!’ a voice called out.

  ‘Cut that out,’ grunted another. A hand flashed out from a tube of cardboard, covering the face.

  Beth angled the beam away enough to be able to see clearly without blinding the two faces now in front of her. One was peering at her from a roll of cardboard, covered with bin liners. The other looking up from a square-ish den, made from pieces of wood with carrier bags shoved in the corners and tarpaulin covering the back. She could see the edge of a sleeping bag inside.

  The sweet aroma of alcohol mingled with the smell of urine and damp air, cloyed her nostrils.

  Beth introduced herself to a chorus of groans. ‘Where else are we supposed to go on a night like this?’ one of them asked.

  ‘I’m not here to move you on,’ she said. ‘I’m looking for some help, to locate someone.’

  ‘Yeah, right.’ The man in the cardboard turned away.

  ‘Do either of you know a Scott Owen?’ Beth continued.

  No response. The man in the shelter was sitting up now, taking a swig from a bottle.

  ‘He’s not in any trouble, we just need to reach him. We have some news about a member of his family.’

  Shelter man placed down the bottle and pulled his sleeping bag up to his chin. ‘Never heard of him.’

  ‘Do you sleep here often?’ she asked.

  He shrugged.

  ‘We’ve been told Scott slept here until recently.’ She described his appearance, aware her description referred to a man fifteen years ago.

  ‘I told you, I’ve never heard of him.’ The man stared at her. ‘Now if you’re not going to move us on, can you at least let us get some sleep while it’s quiet? The London train’ll be along soon. Could do with some shut eye before it shakes us awake.’

  Beth tried to press further, asking them for names and details of others that slept there, to no avail.

  She was walking back up Northampton Road when a car pulled over beside her. It was Nick in his Toyota.

  Beth climbed in and wrestled with the seatbelt. He’d rented this vehicle after his beloved vintage Alfa Romeo Spider was written off on a chase on their last job. He’d always driven old quirky cars and it seemed odd to see him in this new model. ‘Isn’t it about time you started looking for a new car?’ she asked.

  ‘I am looking. Just haven’t found the right one yet. He steered around the corner and parked up beside her Mini. ‘What were you doing back there?’ he asked.

  ‘I made a start behind the billboards.’

  Nick’s face clouded. ‘I thought you were going to wait for me.’

  ‘I was early.’ She didn’t miss him cuss under his breath, but he swallowed his anger, clearly not wishing to fight. ‘And?’

  ‘A couple of guys are sleeping rough there. If they do know Scott, they’re not talking.’

  ‘Okay, where now?’

  ‘The churchyard. My sister mentioned seeing a few tents pitched there last week.’

  The rain grew heavy, dropping in sheets as they exited the car and crossed the road. The church of St Peter and St Paul was set back from the road in the centre of town, a fifteenth-century, sandstone affair with a tall steeple that towered over the surrounding buildings. A small churchyard attached. Beth pulled up her hood as they strode around the edge of the wrought iron fence containing the churchyard and entered at the gate. They switched on their torches and walked around the graves. It was empty.

  ‘Let’s try around the back,’ Beth said, raising her voice over the rain. Nick tugged up his collar, his face pinched against the inclement weather. They walked around the church, past the lime trees that marked its perimeter, about to give up when they saw a few tents pitched close to each other, beneath a yew tree at the far end.

  ‘Police,’ Nick called out as they approached. ‘Anyone there?’

  No answer from the first tent.

  Beth noticed a slight movement in the second. ‘Hey!’ she said and introduced them again. ‘We’re trying to locate someone urgently. Can you help?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Please, it’s important. We need to give them some information about their family.’

  A rustle. The tent was unzipped slightly, just enough for a face to appear. Dark eyes glared up at her.

  She gave the name and a brief description. The rain was getting worse, penetrating her jacket now. She hunched her shoulders. While the tents enjoyed the shelter of the low hanging Yew, they were both still exposed to the elements.

  ‘Never heard of them.’

  Nick shook his head. This was going nowhere. ‘Let’s leave it until the morning,’ he said to Beth. ‘The local officer probably has some contacts.’

  Beth shared his frustration but she couldn’t bear to leave with nothing. She gave one last shout to the final tent.

  Another zip unfastened. A wizened face popped out, topped with a mop of matted curls flecked with grey. Beth angled her torch beam away from the woman’s eyes. She was gaunt, with sunken pockmarked cheekbones, red-rimmed eyes and appeared older than the others. ‘Oh, man! Look at the rain.’ Her face puckered.

  ‘I’m not here to move you on,’ Beth repeated. ‘I’m asking for some help, to locate someone.’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Scott. Scott Owen.’

  If she’d blinked at that moment, she’d have missed the hint of recognition in the woman’s eyes. ‘Do you know hi
m?’

  ‘Can’t help you.’

  ‘But you do know him?’

  ‘I didn’t say that.’

  Nick made to move on but Beth didn’t budge. ‘It’s important. He’s not in any trouble. I need to speak with him. I have some news about his family. Please. Anything you can tell me will help.’

  33

  Beth was soaked to the skin by the time she walked back to her car. The woman, who’d given her name as Lisa Roberts, hadn’t been able to tell her much, apart from the fact that she knew of a Scott who’d been sleeping rough in various places around the town for several years. He came and went. Even slept out in minus temperatures because he didn’t like to use the shelters. Lisa described him as a drug-dependent loner who didn’t talk about himself much. When Beth asked for a description, she’d said he had dark hair and a bushy beard. No chance of checking on the harelip surgery scar then. And, crucially, she hadn’t seen him for some days and had no idea where he might be now.

  Nick was a few steps behind her, his phone pressed to his ear, relaying their findings back to the office. Beth gave him a wave, motioned for them to meet at home, then climbed into her car. What she needed now was a warm shower and her bed.

  The wind whistled around the car as she reversed out of the bay. She was glad to be in the dry at last. If she put her foot down, she’d be home in ten minutes.

  The roads were quiet out of Kettering, residents seeking shelter from the inclement weather. The rain turned to hail, icy pellets pounding her windscreen. She slowed and switched up the front and rear wipers.

  There was only one car behind her as she drove past the billboards, under the railway bridge and onto the A6013. It stayed with her as she navigated the road out of town and tailed her over the roundabouts. It looked dark, possibly black, too close to make out the number plate. Nick’s Toyota hire car? Maybe he’d put his foot down to catch her up.

  She left Kettering behind her now, the town’s street lights like tiny dots in the distance. At the next roundabout, she slowed for a lorry. The car was still behind her. It was a saloon, not a hatchback. Not Nick’s Toyota then. And it was hanging a little too close for her liking. She drove straight over at the roundabout, glanced in her rear-view mirror. Headlights flashed up, almost blinding her as it followed.