by D. S. Butler
‘You have no right to be here,’ Chidlow growled.
‘Maybe I should have pushed harder in the divorce.’ Lady Chidlow smiled. ‘I could have taken half of this place.’
Chidlow’s face was scarlet. ‘You were lucky to get what you did. You took me to the cleaners thanks to that cut-throat lawyer of yours.’
‘Well, it was your fault for running off with a young girl!’
‘She wasn’t a young girl,’ Chidlow said between gritted teeth. ‘She was twenty-one.’
‘Yes, but you were forty-five, and twenty-one is only four years older than the students who went missing.’
Chidlow’s eyes widened. He glanced at Karen and then back at his ex-wife. ‘Twenty-one is an adult, not a child.’
Before things descended into a screaming match, Karen stood and positioned herself between them. ‘Okay, that’s enough. Lady Chidlow, come with me.’ She led the woman to the temporary incident room. ‘Sophie?’
Sophie looked up from the desk. ‘Yes, Sarge?’
‘I’d like you to come and talk to Lady Chidlow.’
Karen heard footsteps and to her annoyance realised that Doyle and Chidlow had followed them. ‘Lord Chidlow, is there a room we can use so DC Jones can talk to your ex-wife in private?’
‘I really don’t think it’s appropriate,’ Chidlow said. ‘She wasn’t here. She knows nothing about the case at all. All she wants to do is damage my reputation.’
‘I have to agree,’ Doyle said. ‘It’s most objectionable. Smearing a decent man like Lord Chidlow over this is a disgrace.’
‘Thank you for sharing your opinions, gentlemen,’ Karen said. ‘All the same, DC Jones will be talking to your ex-wife, Lord Chidlow, so if you could provide a room for the interview, I’d appreciate it.’
Doyle turned to Chidlow. ‘I’d rather they weren’t in my office. They could go upstairs and use one of the guest rooms. There’s plenty of space up there.’
Chidlow clenched his teeth and nodded. ‘Very well, but I want it on record that this woman delights in making my life a misery, and I wouldn’t put it past her to make up malicious lies purposely, to make me look bad.’
Karen took Sophie aside. ‘Are you all right doing the interview?’
Sophie nodded. ‘Absolutely.’
As Doyle escorted Sophie and Lady Chidlow upstairs, Karen turned back to Chidlow. It was easy to see that his ex-wife had been hurt and was still angry. Was this just malice from a scorned woman or was there something more to it?
‘I really do have to object most strongly to this, Detective,’ Chidlow said.
‘Your objection is noted, sir, but we have to look into all allegations, no matter how unsavoury.’
Chidlow gave a curt nod and stalked off back to his own study.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
After Doyle left them in one of the rooms, Sophie pulled out the chair by the desk for Lady Chidlow and then sat on the stool beside the window. Not exactly the best environment for an interview, but it would have to do.
Sophie was determined to do a good job, because Karen had entrusted the task to her. But Lady Chidlow made her nervous. She had a pinched face and her eyes were very close together, quite like Chidlow’s in fact. The couple reminded Sophie of birds of prey. Perhaps Chidlow would be a buzzard, with his long beak-like nose, and his ex-wife was like a sparrowhawk, with bright, glaring eyes.
Sophie shuddered and tried to collect her thoughts. ‘Could I have your full name, please?’
‘Selina Mary Chidlow.’
‘So you kept your husband’s name after the divorce?’ Sophie asked, making a note.
‘What’s wrong with that?’ she snapped.
‘Nothing at all. I was just clarifying.’
‘My maiden name was Pratt. I preferred Chidlow.’
Sophie wasn’t quite sure what to say to that, so she smiled. ‘I see. Now, how long were you married to Edward Chidlow?’
‘Ten years.’
‘And when were you divorced?’
‘Two years ago,’ Selina said.
‘Would you say it was an amicable split?’
‘I don’t really see what that has to do with anything,’ she said with a toss of her head.
Her sleek blonde hair gleamed but didn’t move. The style remained impeccable.
Sophie was impressed. Her own hair, a mass of light brown curls, wouldn’t behave like that no matter how much product she put on it.
Lady Chidlow watched Sophie closely. ‘You’re wondering how reliable my information is, aren’t you? Wondering if my turning up today is down to sour grapes?’
‘You must have been hurt by how the relationship ended.’
‘Well, of course, but karma prevailed.’
‘It did?’
Lady Chidlow gave a cat-like smile and leaned forward. ‘It did. She only lived here for three months before leaving him for a pianist he’d hired for a party. Served him right!’
‘Do you have the woman’s details? I’d like to talk to her.’
‘Her name’s Veronica Didsley, but I’ve no other details. You’ll have to ask my ex-husband.’
Sophie wrote down the name then tapped her pen against the pad in front of her. ‘Lady Chidlow, do you have any reason to believe your husband was involved in the disappearance of Natasha Layton and Cressida Blake?’
‘Cressida Blake has reappeared?’
Sophie nodded. ‘That’s right.’
‘And did she say anything about my husband?’
‘I can’t disclose that information,’ Sophie said, feeling suddenly that the interview was on the other foot.
Lady Chidlow looked thoughtful. ‘You shouldn’t underestimate him.’ She leaned forward, her eyes no longer so sharp, an emotion in them Sophie couldn’t quite place. ‘He does have an interest in women far younger than himself.’
‘Have you got any reason to think he would have hurt them or held either one of them against their will?’ Sophie asked.
Lady Chidlow shrugged. ‘I couldn’t say.’
‘Do you have any reason to think Edward Chidlow could be violent?’
‘Are you asking if he used to hit me?’ She raised an eyebrow. ‘No. We screamed at each other. We threw a few pieces of porcelain around, perhaps a smashed wine glass from time to time during our marriage. We both had tempers, but no, he never hit me.’ She lifted a hand to her neck. Her wrist was weighed down by a heavy gold bracelet. ‘There’s just something . . .’ She broke off and shook her head.
‘What is it?’ Sophie asked.
‘It’s not just the woman he left me for. Granted, Veronica was twenty-one, well above the age of consent. I might disapprove of that, particularly because he was married to me at the time. But it’s more . . . I’d noticed him watching younger women . . . girls, really. Let’s not beat around the bush. Even when they were in school uniform. It made me uneasy.’
‘I see,’ Sophie said.
It was an uncomfortable subject and hard to determine whether Lady Chidlow was speaking out of spite or out of genuine concern for Natasha and a desire to help.
Sophie spoke to Lady Chidlow for a further twenty minutes but found it hard to judge what to do with the information she’d given her. It was nothing tangible.
Sophie offered to show her back downstairs after she said she had an appointment to get to, but the woman waved her off saying she was perfectly capable of finding her way around her own house. Sophie refrained from reminding her that it wasn’t actually her house anymore.
After Lady Chidlow had left, Sophie gathered together her notes and put them in her bag, then went to use the bathroom on the girls’ floor, passing the Forensics unit on the way. They were hard at work, methodically logging and photographing every item from the junk room. They’d already taken photographs of the footprints in the dust and told Sophie there was an excellent set of fingerprints on the Bluetooth speaker. That was good news, but she suspected that they already knew who they belonged to – Ethan, the
chief constable’s son. She was glad Karen had been quick to guess Ethan Grayson was behind the spooky noises when they’d found the speaker. The idea someone had been trying to scare them was unnerving.
She washed her hands, noticing that the cupboard that had previously been locked was now open and contained only towels and stacks of soap. After drying her hands, she looked at her reflection in the mirror, tucking her brown curls behind her ears in an effort to appear more professional. She was leaning forward to wipe away a tiny smudge of mascara just below her lower lash line when she noticed something very odd on the wall to the side of the mirror.
She stared at it for a moment, moving closer. There was a hole in the wall. It was small but definitely there. She quickly walked next door and asked to speak to one of the Forensics team. A large man in a pale blue coverall suit came forward.
‘I’ve got a question for you,’ Sophie asked. ‘I know you’re still at the front of the room at the moment, but could you check for a small hole in that wall?’ She pointed at the general area she judged the tiny hole to be. ‘It’s about five feet up from the floor and two feet away from the corner of the room.’
He looked over his shoulder at the spot Sophie was pointing at. ‘We haven’t got that far yet, but I’ll have a look. Why do you ask?’
‘Because I’ve just seen a hole in the girls’ bathroom wall. It’s next to this room . . .’
‘Right. I’ll have a look,’ he said, stepping over the debris on the floor, squeezing around two stacked chairs and passing an old frayed armchair wedged under the window.
‘Yes, there’s something here,’ he called out. ‘Just above the shelf. It looks like an old-fashioned peephole, not a freshly drilled hole. It’s lined with brass. I’ve seen them in old houses before.’
‘You have?’
‘Yes, a few times.’
‘So you don’t think it’s been used recently? To spy on the girls in the bathroom, I mean,’ Sophie asked.
The other CSIs in the room had now turned their attention to Sophie.
‘It’s hard to say,’ the officer said, staring at the wall. ‘Someone could have been using it, I suppose.’
‘Was there a set of footprints right up to the shelf?’ Sophie asked.
‘Yes,’ he said. ‘As a matter of fact, there was. That suggests someone has been using it, doesn’t it?’
‘Thank you,’ Sophie said, and, feeling sick, turned and walked briskly towards the stairs. She had to tell DS Hart and DI Morgan that it was likely someone had been spying on the girls in the bathroom at Chidlow House.
Sophie found Karen in the library flipping through a tattered old cream paperback.
‘How did you get on?’ Karen asked. ‘Chidlow is very upset we’re talking to his ex-wife. I’m starting to think he has something to hide.’
‘Oh,’ Sophie said, momentarily distracted. ‘Yes, she didn’t give any firm evidence, but she did say she’d seen him watching girls in school uniforms,’ she said.
Karen pulled a face.
‘But it’s her word against his,’ Sophie said, ‘and she’s still very angry at him.’
‘That’s true,’ Karen said. ‘This is interesting.’ She held up the paperback. ‘A book about the Chidlow family over the generations. I’m not sure it will be much help, but—’
Sophie ignored the book, focusing on her more pressing concern. ‘I went into the girls’ bathroom upstairs and I noticed something pretty shocking.’
‘What?’ Karen closed the book.
‘There’s a peephole. I think someone’s been spying on the female students when they use the bathroom.’
Karen’s eyes widened. ‘How could we have missed that in the search?’ She held up the paperback. ‘It talks about the spyholes in here. Says Chidlow’s great-great-grandfather liked to watch his guests unawares as they moved about his house. It says all the holes have since been filled in, though.’
‘Not this one. To be fair, it’s a very small hole,’ Sophie said, ‘and it’s right by the edge of the mirror. Easy to miss. The hole goes through to Chidlow’s storage room next door. I asked a member of the crime scene team to take a look and he said he’d seen peepholes like it before in other old houses.’
‘So it’s old? Not one someone has made recently?’ Karen asked.
‘It’s old, but there were footprints going right up to the shelf just below the hole.’
‘Can they match the footprints?’ Karen asked.
‘I don’t know. They’ve taken photographs but it’s possible more than one person has walked back and forth, so getting a clear print isn’t easy. There’s not much room as you try to get around the furniture.’
Karen nodded. ‘That’s a shame, but it suggests someone has been using that spyhole recently, so we’re looking for a peeping Tom.’
Sophie swallowed hard. ‘I think so.’
‘There wasn’t any recording equipment on the shelf?’
‘No.’
‘That’s something at least,’ Karen said.
‘Unless they removed it when we got here,’ Sophie suggested. ‘It’s an awful thought, isn’t it?’
‘Yes, it is.’ Karen held up the book. ‘There’s some horrible stuff in here as well. Apparently Edward Chidlow’s great-great-grandfather enjoyed tormenting his wife. She wrote letters to her sister detailing the methods he used to frighten her.’ Karen took a deep breath. ‘We should tell DI Morgan about the spyhole and then see what Chidlow’s got to say for himself.’
‘It could be Chidlow spying on the female students,’ Sophie said. ‘It’s his house, so he’d likely know about the peepholes, though the spy could be someone else.’
‘You mean Ethan, the chief constable’s son?’
‘We know he was in that room.’
Karen nodded. ‘We’ll have to talk to him as well.’
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Karen found Morgan walking back and forth in front of the back staircase, looking at the paintings.
‘Everything all right?’ she asked.
He continued to pace, looking up at a bloody hunting scene. ‘Yes, just thinking. There has to be something we’ve missed. I thought there could be a link between the death of the teacher and Natasha’s disappearance, but I can’t work out what it could be. Alison King enjoyed her job, she was close to her family, had plenty of friends and none of them said anything that might suggest she was upset or disturbed in the days leading up to her falling from the roof. And yet Doyle said she was disturbed. She was unnerved by the atmosphere of Chidlow House and the creepy noises.’
‘The noises were Ethan’s doing.’
Morgan met Karen’s gaze. ‘Yes.’
‘Do you think he did the same to Cressida and Natasha? Scared them into leaving Chidlow House? We only have his word that they were dressed up, heading out for the evening. No one else saw them leaving.’
Morgan paused. ‘That’s true. The more I think about it, the more I’m convinced there’s a connection.’
‘But they were just noises. Would that really be enough to drive Alison King to jump from the roof and to cause Cressida and Natasha to run away?’ Karen sighed. Cressida had denied hearing the noises and so had Ella Seaton. It didn’t add up.
When Karen mentioned the peepholes to Morgan, he stopped pacing and asked, ‘Have any more been found around the property?’
‘I don’t think so.’
He frowned. ‘We should have found the peephole during the search.’
Karen felt herself getting defensive, but Morgan was right. She had been in that bathroom but missed the peephole. She couldn’t blame DC Shah and the rest of the search team for missing something so important when she had missed it too.
It had been a big slip-up on her part. ‘I don’t think there were any more in the rooms I searched,’ Karen said. ‘But I missed the one in the bathroom, so maybe we need to take a second look. I’ve asked the crime scene manager to send digital copies of the photographs to our emails.’
Karen nodded, appreciating his attempt to make her feel better. But the fact remained, she’d missed the hole.
She couldn’t change that, but she could redouble her efforts now. Concentrate and work out if someone had been using these spyholes recently. Had someone been watching the female students undressing, bathing, getting into the shower? If so, who?
‘Chidlow has to be top of our suspect list, but we can’t rule out Ethan Grayson.’ It pained her to admit it. Zeroing in on Ethan would not win her any favours with the chief constable.
‘I agree. Do you want to talk to him, or shall I?’
‘I’ll do it.’ Karen hoped talking to Ethan away from Chidlow House might get her some answers.
‘Good,’ Morgan said. ‘I’m not sure how his father will react. I’ll let the superintendent know about this development. I think she’ll need time to prepare for the chief constable’s bad temper.’
Karen couldn’t help hoping Chief Constable Grayson wouldn’t be there when she dropped in to visit Ethan at home.
‘I can follow up with Chidlow,’ Morgan said. ‘He told me he hasn’t been in there for years, but there were two sets of footprints in that room, weren’t there?’
‘It looked like there was more than one shoe print, but only one set were a good clear print. Maybe we could check all Chidlow’s shoes and see if we get a match.’
‘Do you think the crime scene team will be able to do that?’
‘I’m not sure. It’s not like an imprint made in the earth. Though the floor was dusty, it wasn’t an even spread, but even a partial match could help us put the pressure on Chidlow.’
Morgan nodded thoughtfully. ‘It’s worth a try. I think it might be better if we both talk to Chidlow after his study has been searched. I’ll check on the outdoor search, and when you get back from speaking to Ethan Grayson, we’ll talk to Chidlow together, okay?’
