His eyes were certainly crusty and tired. ‘Thank you both,’ Siv said. ‘So that’s why you look done in. You can tweet something to that effect, Patrick, saying you were burning the candle at both ends to contact witnesses. I’m sure you’ll make it sound snappier.’
He nodded, preening slightly. ‘Apart from Shelton, all members of the club except one said no, niet, nada, rien to ever seeing Lauren, Rimas or a little girl. The one remaining, a Rob Price, said that he’d seen Lauren once at the river. He called her the weirdo mermaid. Said she “waxed on” about the sign, saying that it was offensive and she was going to do something about it.’
‘When was this?’ Siv asked.
‘Beginning of February,’ he said. ‘Price said he’d told her it was nothing to do with him and she should talk to Nick Shelton. He also told her that she was disturbing his fishing and she responded that torturing fish was a crime and that one day there’d be a law against it. He reckoned she was a bit of a nut. Price didn’t kill her, by the way. He’d just got back yesterday from a holiday in Tenerife and I checked with the hotel there.’
‘Thanks for that. We badly need something on this child in the photo. What about the door-to-door?’
Lisa checked her notes. ‘That’s still ongoing. Nothing to report. No one saw Lauren on Sunday evening or Monday morning. Haven’t found anyone who was at home on Monday morning at the time Visser says he got back. I’m still waiting to hear from the railway station about their CCTV, but the manager told me that there isn’t any at the side gate where some people exit from the London train. And guess where the exit for the bike lockup is . . . so I think we’re stuffed on that.’
Siv went through Wooton’s email. ‘Shoe prints from the river up to the trees match with Rimas’s trainers and Lauren’s neoprene boots. Rimas’s prints have been found by the Honda and on the path from there to the river. There’s some other footprints along that path and to and from the trees. Whoever made them was wearing shoe covers made of carpet material, which suggests it was our killer, but we have nothing identifiable. So, definitely a carefully planned operation. Nothing back yet on car tyres. Anything else from Lauren’s Facebook?’
Ali shook his head. ‘Nothing that looks significant. I’m ploughing through. Lots of stuff about Minstergreen. They seem to do shed loads of counting — birds, badgers, foxes. Even flies! How do you count flies, I wonder? Every now and again, she promotes a “Hit Squad,” which is a small group that targets a particular area, like cleaning a bit of the riverbank, litter-picking or helping with coppicing. Cora Laffin does lots of likes and supportive comments but no one else pops up regularly. No sign of anyone called Nowak. He hasn’t replied to me yet and although they know of him at Polska, they don’t have a contact number or address. He’s not on the electoral register. I’m still searching. The techies finished with Rimas’s phone. No direct contact from him to Lauren, so if she was playing away, it doesn’t look as if it was with him.’
Siv sipped coffee. ‘A parent at the nursery and Cora Laffin told me that Lauren was on the committee of Minstergreen and had a difference of opinion with the chair, a Mason Granger, about their strategy. According to Cora, Lauren would never have had an affair, but the deputy at the nursery wasn’t so sure. I’ve been thinking that the calls and texts Lauren was getting might have been to do with the campaign about the sign at Lock Lane. The timing coincides. The disappearance of her phone is frustrating. So far, people, we have no motive. So we keep digging. I want you to check out all the nursery staff, find out if any of them have any previous convictions or history of dispute with Lauren and establish where they were Monday morning. Lauren and Simon Rochford, the cook, had some disagreements over the menus. Not a big issue according to him and Jenna Seaton, but look into him. Ditto all the members of Minstergreen. I’ll talk to Mason Granger. Someone needs to check Cora Laffin’s alibi with her boyfriend. Ali, can you speak to Nick Shelton, find out what Lauren’s contact with him was and his whereabouts on Monday?’
Siv’s phone rang. ‘Guv, there’s a Harvey Seaton in reception, asking to speak to you. Shall I get him to make an appointment?’
Never turn down someone associated with a victim who volunteers information. ‘No, that’s okay. I’ll be down shortly.’
‘Right, I’ll tell him to wait. One more thing, guv — a couple of members of the public have phoned in with tips, including a Mr Wilby who says he worked with Lauren Visser. Seems everyone at the nursery is in bits and he thought it might help if he could reassure his colleagues with any news. He also mentioned something about Ms Visser saying a man had been watching her when she was swimming.’
‘Okay, thanks.’ She turned to the others. ‘One of Lauren’s colleagues just phoned, asking about progress. Said he’s remembered something that might help. Patrick, get his details from the desk sergeant and talk to him. In the meantime, Harvey Seaton, husband of the nursery owner and Visser’s pal, is here to talk to me.’
‘Maybe he’s going to confess and I can tweet we’ve solved the case in just days,’ Patrick said, punching the air and grinning.
Siv really wanted to tell him to grow up but held her tongue — for now.
Chapter Fourteen
Harvey Seaton sat in a small, bare room containing a plastic table in the centre, with beakers and bottles of water and four orange moulded chairs. The air was stale and there was one large, desiccated ficus in a corner. His fingers itched to winnow the dead leaves and water it. He checked his tie knot and swallowed. He’d dressed in black jeans, ice white shirt and linen jacket. Casual smart, but not looking as if he was trying too hard. He needed this inspector to believe him. He’d never spoken to a police officer before. A look of respectability would surely help. Not that it had helped with Jenna. Since he’d told her about Lauren, she’d hardly looked at him and had barely spoken. She’d asked him to sleep in a spare bedroom. He hated that. They’d never slept apart before, never been a couple who had cool silences.
Leaving the house, he’d said, ‘I’m going to the police station. I’ll give them the full picture.’
She’d grimaced. ‘What do you want, a medal?’
He hadn’t said what he wanted to say to her, that if she’d sold her business, as he’d asked her to, the foolishness with Lauren wouldn’t have happened. He would have been out with her, not wasting a morning in town on his own. He liked retirement but still hadn’t quite got to grips with it. In his forties, he’d encountered the problem faced by many people twenty years older: what to do all day? His uncertainty reminded him of the empty, anticlimactic feeling after exams. There’d been a big buzz and some hubris about being able to retire comparatively young. He liked the fact that people envied him. He might feel like the local squire when he was out riding but once he climbed down from his horse, his feet were back on the ground in more ways than one. It was hard sometimes to listen to Jenna talking animatedly about work and watch her racing around, trying to fit everything in. The pace of their lives was mismatched these days. Truth was, he’d been feeling passed over and ignored. Life was duller, and Jenna didn’t notice.
Then he’d bumped into Lauren and poured all this out to her in the bookshop café. She’d listened carefully with her habitual grave expression, giving him her full attention. The next time he saw her, on a walk through Halse woods, she’d asked why he couldn’t start another business. There was nothing to stop him and if retirement hadn’t brought contentment, it was an obvious solution. That was when he’d kissed her. Not so much because he fancied her but because she’d taken him seriously and understood his feelings, made him feel as if he could be a player again. That was a potent mix. He didn’t tell her that it was impossible because Jenna would hate the idea. Jenna liked her husband’s role of leisurely lord of the manor, owner of pasture and orchard, man of status at the country club. She’d see it as losing face if he started work again.
The woman who walked through the door with a folder and notepad reminded him a bit of Lauren. She ha
d the same concentrated way of holding herself. But Lauren’s eyes had been gentle, a bit dreamy. This one held you bang in her sights.
‘I understand you want to talk to me, Mr Seaton.’ Her voice was quiet, controlled. ‘I’ll probably make some notes as we speak.’
‘How is your enquiry going? Ade said you hadn’t found Lauren’s rucksack or her phone.’ He’d been so relieved when he’d heard that.
She looked at him with a little smile. ‘I think you came to give me information, not the other way around.’
‘Yes, of course. I want to talk to you about Lauren. Poor Lauren. Her death is terribly shocking.’
‘You have my sincere condolences. I believe she and her husband were good friends of you and your wife.’
‘That’s right. Good friends.’ He couldn’t think of how to go on now that she’d referred to both Ade and Lauren as friends. He was going to sound like such a sneaky bastard and it hadn’t been like that all. He waited for her to say something but she just sat looking at him. ‘This is a bit difficult. A bit embarrassing, really.’ He gave her the engaging grin that usually brought one in return, especially from women, but she remained impassive.
‘I see. Take your time, Mr Seaton.’
He shifted in his chair. ‘Ahm . . . I’m retired, you see. I was lucky enough to make a lot of money from my business. I say lucky but I worked long hours, sweated the deals. So I retired early. I keep horses.’ He thought that if she knew the context, she might understand what had happened.
‘And do your horses keep you busy?’
He felt ambushed, as if she’d got straight to the nub of his dissatisfaction. ‘Up to a point. But at times, I have felt a bit aimless. A bit lonely, I suppose. I ahm . . . you see, I had a friendship with Lauren and I thought I should let you know.’
She nodded. ‘Yes, you’ve already said that you were friendly with the Vissers.’
Was she deliberately making this harder? He couldn’t tell. ‘I mean . . . what I mean is that I saw Lauren on my own a few times. We met up, just the two of us.’ He felt a flush on his neck, ran a finger around inside his collar.
‘Go on.’
‘It was nothing much, you see. I don’t mean that to sound as if I wasn’t fond of Lauren because I was. But it was a fond friendship. Tender. Walks and talks. A kiss now and again. As I said, nothing much.’ Oh God, it was all coming out wrong and she was so deadpan.
‘Have some water,’ she said, unscrewing a bottle and pouring him some. ‘Tell me about your tender friendship. When did it start?’
‘Last September. We bumped into each other in the bookshop by St Mark’s church. We just started chatting, went to the café. I felt as if I’d never really got to know Lauren. I’d never seen her on her own before. When she was around Ade, she was quiet, a bit low key, let him lead and do most of the talking. She told me a lot about her conservation work. She lit up in a way I’d never seen. Her face was sort of lively. We saw each other now and again after that. Really, we spent our time talking.’
‘Where did you meet?’
‘At Halse woods, various places by the river. Once, when the weather was bad, in a pub out at Little Godstone. We met when Ade was away working and of course, Jenna was at work. I know this sounds awful, as if we were going behind their backs and it was cheating but believe me, it was the most innocent kind of cheating.’
‘“An innocent kind of cheating.” That’s an interesting viewpoint.’ Her level, slightly amused tone did make it sound as if she was turning the idea over rather than being sarcastic. ‘Would your spouses have thought of it like that?’
He drank some water, longing for a chill martini. ‘No, I don’t suppose they would.’
‘So, I presume they didn’t know.’
‘No. Jenna does now. I told her yesterday. I explained that I had a “tendresse” with Lauren. She knows I’m here to tell you.’
‘Did you and Lauren have sex?’
‘Absolutely not. We kissed and held hands. That was the sum of it.’
‘Did you want to, though?’
This took him aback. ‘That’s a very personal question.’
‘Is it? Well, murder is very personal, you see.’
He thought of lying but the sceptical look on her face stopped him. ‘I was tempted, yes. But I knew Lauren didn’t want that. She made it clear. She liked being with me because I talked to her about her swimming and her conservation work and I didn’t disapprove. Ade wasn’t always very understanding about her interests. And Lauren appreciated that I’ve found it hard to adjust to retirement. I have plenty of things to do, but they don’t always seem that important. It’s hard when no one depends on you for decisions any more, or throws ideas and proposals at you. It was just so good to be able to express all that. We were close and warm. I’d kiss her lips and her hand. Truly, Inspector, that was all. A great fondness. On the days I saw Lauren, I went home feeling younger and invigorated, like I was walking on air. I suppose you think I sound like a dirty old man because I was older than her.’
She poured some water for herself and stretched her legs out, her tone more conversational. ‘I’m not sure I take that view and anyway, it doesn’t matter what I think. You were both adults. People cheat on each other all the time. I’m only interested if it leads to crime. Did it? Did you kill her and a man called Matis Rimas?’
He pressed his hands together on the table. ‘No! I would never have harmed a hair on Lauren’s head, and I’ve never heard of this Rimas. You must believe me.’ He couldn’t tell what she believed. She made a note, underlined what she’d written.
‘In all these heart-to-hearts, did Lauren tell you about her campaign to take legal action regarding the sign at Lock Lane?’
‘She did, yes. She talked about that quite a bit. She was keeping it from Ade, so I think she was relieved to be able to discuss it. I gave her a contribution towards her crowdfunding for it.’
‘Did Lauren mention any members of the Polish community who were helping her?’
‘She might have. I’m sorry, I really can’t remember. We’d be talking non-stop. She said so much about so many subjects it’s hard to recall everything she said.’
Siv tapped her pen against her chin. She took two photos from the folder and placed them in front of him. ‘Have you ever seen this man or this child?’
‘No, never.’
‘And had you seen or talked to Lauren recently, after your special friendship ended?’
‘No — or at least, not just the two of us. We stopped seeing each other in February. It was difficult, but the decision was mutual. We both began to feel bad about our spouses and we were worried that someone might see us. We agreed we’d have to settle for the friendship we had before, as married couples.’
‘Sounds very neat. Affairs don’t usually end so tidily. Someone is usually left feeling angry, sad, upset.’
‘I told you,’ he said. ‘It wasn’t an affair.’
‘So you say. I suppose it depends on your definition. And you’re sure Ade Visser didn’t know?’
‘He’s shown no sign of knowing. We’ve been out riding together recently and he was fine. Will he have to know now? Will you tell him?’
‘It depends. How has your wife taken it?’
He hesitated. ‘She’s angry. I tried to explain the nature of the friendship, that it was affectionate.’
‘Where were you between six a.m. and eight thirty a.m. on Monday the twenty-ninth?’
This was the question he’d been dreading. Jenna had already been at pains to point out that he was up shit creek where Monday was concerned. She’d turned that into an accusation as well, as if he should have known he’d need an alibi. He felt the sweat collecting down his back. ‘I went out for an early hack. I left around six forty and got home around eight fifteen. Jenna had gone to work by the time I got back.’
‘Did anyone see you on your hack? Did you talk to anyone?’
‘No, I’m afraid not. I was on bridleways. I saw n
o one else. That’s one of the pleasures of riding, the peace and solitude. Just being part of the natural world. That was why I could empathise so closely with Lauren’s love of wild swimming, because that’s what she craved. But the route I took went nowhere near the river and I was always miles away from Lock Lane.’
‘So, just to be clear, when did you last speak to Lauren?’
‘A couple of weeks ago. She and Ade came for dinner. I can check the date. I was relieved because it was our first gathering as couples since we’d agreed to stop meeting, and it was okay. No real awkwardness.’
‘Did you know she was going swimming at Lock Lane on Monday morning?’
‘No. How would I? I hadn’t seen her since that weekend dinner.’ Which was true but not the truth.
She sat up, suddenly brisk. ‘Given what you’ve told me, it’s unfortunate that you were out alone during the time Lauren was murdered and no one can vouch for your whereabouts. I need you to provide an accurate route of exactly where you were riding on Monday morning, from start to finish. I’ll get someone to bring you a printed map of the area. Try to remember if anyone saw you. Also, I would like you to allow us to keep your phone for a while, so that your history can be checked. You’ll get a receipt.’
He stared at her for a moment, on the verge of objecting, and then handed it over. He waited, finishing the water, while a constable brought a receipt and another came in with a map of the town and surrounding area. She handed him a red pen and watched while he traced out his route. He felt like a schoolboy in detention being observed by teacher. He couldn’t think straight and his hand was shaking. This was turning into a nightmare.
He could only hope that some of his lies stayed buried.
* * *
Siv went to find Patrick. He was on his phone, deep in conversation, tapping his temple with a pen. She heard him mention medication and prescriptions. He rang off as soon as he saw her, looking flustered. She relayed the interview with Seaton and gave him a copy of the route that he’d drawn. Then she asked him to drive the roads around it and ask if anyone had seen Seaton riding on Monday morning.
These Little Lies Page 14
