by D. S. Butler
‘That must have been awful,’ Morgan said, wincing at the understatement.
Harrington nodded. ‘Yes . . .’
Morgan put his pen down on the desk, got up and walked out with Harrington and Sandy. ‘I’ll let you know when the search team is ready to come to your cottage. It will be soon.’
‘Right.’
As they walked into the entrance hall, Morgan heard footsteps behind them. Cressida and her parents were heading towards them.
Cressida’s gaze fixed on Mike Harrington as he carried on walking to the front door, his stick tapping on the flagstones. She tensed and grabbed her mother’s arm.
What was that all about? Was she reacting to Harrington, the dog or simply the trauma of being back at Chidlow House?
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
After the Blakes left, Karen went to find Ella again. She had two reasons for doing so. She wanted to know if the girl was happy to stay here at Chidlow House with Graham Doyle and Edward Chidlow. Sophie had contacted her parents, who were still on holiday, to ask if they wanted to make alternative arrangements for their daughter in the circumstances. The parents of the other students hadn’t been able to get their children away fast enough, and Karen thought it odd that Ella’s parents had asked for her to stay at Chidlow House until they returned.
On the surface, Ella didn’t seem worried about remaining here until her parents got home, but Karen had the feeling she wasn’t someone who readily revealed her true feelings. Her confident voice contrasted with her shy, awkward body language.
She also wanted to ask Ella about her relationship with Cressida. The girls had seemed friendly earlier and that had come as a surprise. When Karen had first spoken to Ella, she’d said she wasn’t close to Cressida and Natasha, even implying they were spoiled and cut her out of things.
Maybe Ella had sympathy for Cressida’s plight. That could explain their cosy interactions today. She hoped talking to Ella would clarify things.
She rapped on the door and Ella answered, looking tired. She had crease marks on her cheek.
‘Sorry, did I wake you?’ Karen asked.
‘Yes, although I shouldn’t have fallen asleep really. I’m meant to be studying.’ She smiled. ‘Come in.’
She stepped back and Karen entered the room. ‘How are you doing?’
Ella shrugged. ‘I’m fine.’
‘Funny you fell asleep when you had such a good night’s sleep,’ Karen said gently.
Ella gave a small, guilt-tinged smile. ‘Well, maybe I didn’t get quite as much sleep as I thought.’
‘You know, if you feel more comfortable, we could make some arrangements for you. Just until your parents get back. Even if you don’t want to stay at your family home, there must be a relative or friend you could stay with?’
‘Honestly, I’m fine,’ Ella said, sitting down on the edge of her bed. ‘I’d prefer to stay here. I want to know what happens. I’d like to be here when Natasha returns.’
‘Do you think she’ll come back?’
‘I hope so. Don’t you?’
‘I don’t know,’ Karen said. ‘I hope she’s all right and comes back here, like Cressida . . .’ Karen trailed off. ‘Anyway, we’re doing our best to find her.’
‘I know,’ Ella said. ‘I’ve noticed. You’re a bit like me really.’
Karen was surprised. ‘In what way?’
‘Well, not you specifically, but detectives, you know. You watch people, don’t you? Read their behaviour. Find out their secrets.’
Karen nodded slowly. ‘I suppose we do.’
‘Well, that’s like me. I’m practically invisible here.’ She plucked at a loose thread on the blanket. ‘People just look through me.’
‘I’m sure that’s not true, Ella,’ Karen said.
‘It is. And don’t get me wrong, it’s not that bad really. I’m just plain – boring – but it means that people don’t pay attention to me. They don’t think I’m important and that gives me the chance to watch, to listen, to find out things.’
Karen sat on the bed beside her. ‘What sort of things have you found out?’
‘I don’t know if it’s anything important. I’m not saying I’m a detective or anything, but sometimes I hear things.’
Karen nodded, encouraging her to go on.
‘Well, one thing that might be important happened on Wednesday evening. I overheard Cressida talking to Natasha. She was boasting that she’d been inside the gardener’s cottage that day.’
‘Cressida was inside Mike Harrington’s cottage on Wednesday?’
A chill ran down Karen’s spine. She’d felt sorry for him. How could she have been so stupid? She was glad she’d got Morgan to do the interview. Her instincts were off.
‘Yes, that’s what she said.’
‘Was there anything going on between Cressida and the groundsman?’
‘I don’t know. I think she had a bit of a crush on him. Maybe he invited her back there.’ Ella shrugged. ‘But it seems a bit weird really, because earlier in the week, Cressida had been, you know, trying to flirt with him, get his attention when he was using the leaf blower underneath the oak trees near the house, and he’d completely blanked her. I thought it was quite funny, but she got really shirty about it. But then maybe he was putting on an act, you know? So that nobody suspected anything. Maybe he thought he’d get in trouble, lose his job. Fraternising with the students.’
‘Thank you for telling me, Ella,’ Karen said. ‘I appreciate it.’
‘Oh, you’re welcome. While I’m here, I’ll keep listening. See if I can find anything else out for you.’
‘You don’t need to do that, Ella. But if anything else occurs to you, then let me know, okay?’
Ella nodded happily.
‘What about Ethan?’ Karen asked. ‘Are you friends with him?’
Ella shook her head. ‘No, he’s nice, but he only has eyes for Natasha and Cressida. Natasha especially. He doesn’t even notice me.’ She gave a small, sad smile.
Karen wondered if Ella knew anything about the recording and Ethan’s involvement. ‘Ella, did you ever hear the dripping water or whispering on this floor?’
Ella shook her head. ‘No, I didn’t . . . but I heard you talking earlier to Ethan.’
‘You heard me?’
Ella flushed. Her hands fluttered nervously in her lap. ‘Well, I just happened to be walking past Doyle’s office at the time. Your voices were raised. I wasn’t listening at the door or anything like that,’ she added hurriedly.
It dawned on Karen that they’d underestimated Ella. The line between someone who paid close attention to the people around them and an eavesdropper was thin.
Disappointed with her own life, was Ella living vicariously through others? Getting excitement and thrills from finding out secrets?
‘I see,’ Karen said. ‘You shouldn’t really listen in on private conversations.’
‘You didn’t say that just now when I told you about Cressida being in Mike Harrington’s cottage.’
‘True,’ Karen admitted. ‘But that sort of thing can get you in trouble. You should make friends, Ella, create real bonds, have conversations with people. Don’t spy on them.’
Two bright red spots burned in the middle of Ella’s cheeks. ‘I thought I was helping.’
She dipped her head and her frizzy hair fell forward, obscuring her face.
‘You were. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make it sound like I’m ungrateful for the information, because I’m not. It could be very important, and I’m glad you told me. I just think you’d be happier if instead of stepping back and observing, you took part.’
Ella shrugged. ‘I’m not very good at that.’
‘No, I know. It takes practice. And you’re still young. You’ve got loads of time to learn.’
Ella smiled, but she still looked as though Karen had taken away her favourite chocolate bar.
Maybe Karen should have just thanked the young woman and left it at that. But sh
e could picture Ella getting older, spying on people and becoming very unpopular and unhappy in the future.
‘You’ll let me know if you remember anything else you’ve overheard?’
Ella nodded stiffly.
Karen apologised again. ‘I really do appreciate you telling me all this. Thank you.’
‘That’s all right,’ Ella said, softening a little bit. ‘I just hope it helps you find Natasha.’
So do I, Karen thought as she left the room, with Ella Seaton’s watchful gaze following her.
Karen went downstairs and was crossing the entrance hall when she saw Mike Harrington standing with PC Smith at the door. Sandy was sitting beside his feet. The two men were chatting, evidently getting on like a house on fire.
‘Going back to your cottage?’ Karen asked coldly.
He nodded, frowning at her tone.
‘We’re going to send a team of officers to search your home.’
Harrington’s frown deepened. ‘So DI Morgan told me,’ he said. ‘It’s fine. I’ve got nothing to hide. But if you could ask them to be careful when they . . . go through the boxes, I’d appreciate it.’
His voice broke. Karen gritted her teeth. He was talking about the boxes that held his son’s possessions. Despite her suspicions, Karen felt her chest tighten. His loss weighed heavily on him still, and she could hear the grief in his voice.
She folded her arms, determined not to let the fact he’d lost his son have any influence over her. Ella had just told her that Cressida had been in Harrington’s cottage, and he’d denied talking to her. The evidence suggested Mike Harrington was a liar.
‘We’ve had some new information,’ Karen said.
‘About Natasha?’ he asked. ‘Have you found her?’
‘No, about you actually. About the fact Cressida was in your cottage on Wednesday.’
To his credit, Harrington looked astonished. He was either a very good actor or really was surprised.
‘That’s rubbish,’ he managed to growl out eventually. ‘She was not in my cottage on Wednesday. Or any other day for that matter.’
‘We have a witness who says otherwise.’ Technically she didn’t have a witness, only an overheard conversation. Maybe she should have waited until talking to Cressida before confronting Harrington. But the way she’d fallen for his vulnerable act grated on her.
‘Then they’re lying,’ he said. ‘I told you I’ve never even spoken to Cressida. I saw her around the grounds once, maybe twice. I never invited her into my cottage.’
Karen stared at him and he glared back.
‘What time was she supposed to have been there?’ he asked scathingly.
Karen said nothing. She didn’t have that information and, until she’d spoken to Cressida, she didn’t have much to back up Ella’s story. She checked her watch. ‘You’d better get home, open up for the search team, unless you want them to break down the door.’
He shot her a hurt look and then turned on his heel, marching out of Chidlow House. Sandy followed him down the stone steps.
Karen watched them go. Had he had a hand in Cressida and Natasha’s disappearance? And if he had, then why didn’t Cressida remember? Why hadn’t she said something? Would he really stroll about so brazenly knowing that Cressida would see him and point him out?
‘He seemed like such a nice chap,’ PC Smith said.
Karen had forgotten he was there. ‘Sorry?’
‘Mike Harrington. He was just telling me about his time training up the detection dogs. Fascinating stuff.’
Karen didn’t reply but kept watching as Harrington strode away, his limp barely noticeable, his stick hitting the ground hard each time he took a step. His whole frame was tense. She’d made him angry.
‘Can’t believe he was involved,’ PC Smith said, tutting and shaking his head. ‘He’s got a dog.’
‘Even Bill Sikes had a dog,’ Karen said.
‘Bill Sikes? Who’s that? Another suspect?’
Karen put a hand to her forehead, then lifted her gaze to the sky and took a deep breath. ‘Dickens, PC Smith. Dickens.’
She left a confused PC Smith standing in the doorway and headed back inside.
The most sensible thing to do now was to talk to Cressida, ask her to confirm Ella’s story. She couldn’t remember anything after Thursday night when she was getting ready to go out with Natasha. But she shouldn’t have a problem remembering things that happened on Wednesday, and that’s when Ella said Cressida was at Harrington’s cottage.
Karen checked the time. Only twenty minutes had passed, so the Blakes probably weren’t at home yet. She would have to wait a little longer before calling them.
With her hands in her pockets, feeling like she’d been played by Mike Harrington, she walked back into the main part of the house to find Morgan. He’d know what to do. He wouldn’t be so foolish as to let personal feelings influence his opinion of a suspect.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Karen headed straight to the incident room they’d set up in the library. Sophie and Rick were hunched over their laptops.
Rick looked up, and after he’d seen the look on Karen’s face, said, ‘Is everything all right, Sarge?’
‘I’ve just found out something from Ella Seaton, the student who’s still here. She says that Cressida was at Mike Harrington’s cottage on Wednesday.’
Rick’s eyebrows lifted, and he exhaled a long breath as he leaned back in his chair. ‘He didn’t mention that earlier, I take it.’
‘No,’ Karen said, ‘he didn’t. In fact, he’s denying it.’
‘How did Ella know Cressida was in his cottage?’ Sophie asked. ‘Did she see them together? Was she there?’
‘No, she overheard Cressida telling Natasha about it. I’m going to give Cressida another five minutes, then call her at home to see if she can verify.’
‘What if she doesn’t remember?’ Rick asked.
‘She can’t remember what happened on Thursday or Friday, but there’s no reason she shouldn’t be able to recall events that occurred on Wednesday.’
‘Good point,’ Rick said.
‘Sarge,’ Sophie said, getting up and carrying her laptop over to Karen. ‘I’ve been going over the areas we’ve looked at closely so far. We’ve examined footage from CCTV cameras in Harmston and the nearby villages, both from private residences and businesses, but we’re drawing a blank. I think we need to expand the perimeter and look at the larger villages.’
Karen nodded. ‘Yes, I think you’re right. It’s like they vanished into thin air on Thursday night.’
‘But Cressida came back,’ Rick said.
‘Yes,’ Karen said, thoughtfully. ‘But she came back walking across the lawns. She didn’t come back via the main road.’
‘That’s right,’ Sophie said. ‘It bothered me that no one saw the girls on the road on Thursday. It’s not a quiet road, someone should have spotted them – unless they didn’t walk along the main road.’
Rick closed his laptop. ‘Most of the houses are set well back from the road. Lots of trees and bushes around, so it’s perfectly feasible the girls walked past all the residential places and no one saw a thing, especially at night.’ He shrugged. ‘When I checked on Friday, the staff at the pub in the village said they hadn’t seen them the previous evening. I told them I’d go back tonight to see if I can catch any regulars, put the word out, ask if anyone saw them. But it doesn’t look like they went there on Thursday night. The pub does have security cameras, and Cressida and Natasha weren’t on them.’
‘Well, they had to go somewhere,’ Karen said. ‘We just need to find out where.’
‘It’s a shame Cressida can’t remember anything,’ Sophie said. ‘Do you think she’s putting it on? The amnesia?’
‘Why do you say that?’ Karen asked.
‘She seems scared. Do you think there’s someone around here threatening her, making sure she doesn’t talk?’
‘She’d tell her parents if that were the case, woul
dn’t she?’ Rick asked, turning around to look at Sophie.
‘Unless she’s hiding something herself. She was smoking weed. Maybe she got into something harder and doesn’t want to admit to it.’
Karen pondered that for a moment. ‘Maybe.’
‘I don’t know,’ Rick said. ‘She seems genuinely distressed. And trauma like that can do funny things to the mind.’
Karen nodded. ‘That’s true. I’ll see what she has to say about Mike Harrington. That might give us more to go on.’
She spent a little more time with Rick and Sophie going over the future search plans, and then flipped through the file to get the home telephone number of the Blakes.
She dialled the number on her mobile while sitting in an armchair by the window. She looked out on to Chidlow’s land as she waited.
Jasmine Blake answered with a flustered ‘Yes?’
‘Sorry to trouble you again so soon,’ Karen said. ‘This is DS Hart. I’ve just had a word with one of the students here and they told me Cressida spent time at Mike Harrington’s cottage on Wednesday.’
‘Who’s Mike Harrington?’
‘He’s the groundsman here at Chidlow House.’
‘I see. You think he might have had something to do with it?’
‘I don’t know, Mrs Blake. I’d like to talk to Cressida and ask her if she was, in fact, at the groundsman’s cottage on Wednesday.’
‘Oh, well, Cressida’s very upset at the moment, and I don’t want her to be distressed further. She’s got an appointment with a psychologist in a few hours, and I’d like her to be in the best possible frame of mind for that.’
‘I can appreciate that, Mrs Blake, but this is very important. I really do need to check whether Cressida has spent time with Mike Harrington.’
‘I see. Can it wait until later this afternoon?’
‘No, it can’t,’ Karen said, shaking her head in disbelief. ‘Natasha is still missing, Mrs Blake. Time is key here.’
‘Right. Well, the thing is, she’s resting at the moment. I’ll tell you what, I’ll ask her and then I’ll call you back.’
