These Little Lies

by GRETTA MULROONEY

  Betty patted her friend’s arm. ‘Take a breather, you’ll wear yourself out! We were just talking about poor Lauren.’

  ‘And poor Matis,’ Julia reminded her. She nodded to Siv. ‘Hello, Inspector. Have you tried some of our sweets? I can recommend the cheesecake. Here, have a freebie.’

  Siv took the light square of cake topped with raspberries. ‘Lovely, thanks.’

  ‘Has anyone recognized the photo of that little girl?’ Betty was keen to pursue the subject. ‘It was on the local news. I’d have thought someone would know her if she was from round here. We’ve had nothing from the parents at the nursery so she doesn’t seem to have anything to do with work, which is a relief, to be honest.’

  ‘We haven’t heard from anyone yet,’ Siv said, her mouth full of creamy cheese.

  ‘Maybe you should put posters up around town. Not everyone watches the news or reads the paper.’

  ‘Betty, do leave off going on about the murder. I expect the inspector is trying to enjoy her bank holiday.’ Julia smiled but her tone was dry and Betty bit her lip.

  ‘It’s okay,’ Siv said. ‘We might do posters next week. This cheesecake is great. I’ll buy some to take home.’

  As Siv was waiting for her cheesecake to be boxed up, someone took her arm and before she knew what was happening, she was drawn into a fast dance. Bartel Nowak was spinning her around. Holding her lightly but firmly, he manoeuvred her through several other couples. His beard had been trimmed. The sun made it look fiery and his bald head shone in the heat. He wore a handsome dark green waistcoat and he smelled yeasty, as if he’d been at the beer.

  ‘This is a courtship dance,’ he said in her ear, hiccupping, his breath tickling. ‘Really, you should be carrying a basket of flowers.’

  ‘If only I’d known,’ she said.

  ‘Better than your English folk dancing, eh? Better than clogs going clomp clomp clomp and waving a pig’s bladder.’

  ‘The pig’s bladder is to shake at people to urge them on, get them to make more effort.’

  ‘Ah, but our dancing is just to kick back and have fun. It shouldn’t be an effort! This is so British, making enjoyment into a competitive chore.’

  She didn’t know if she felt annoyed or amused at his hijacking of her. He seemed to be enjoying himself, as did the other couples. The music was insistent and fast-paced, the fiddles lively and the accordion pumping, so she let him spin her around some more. Colours flashed before her eyes and she felt a giddy lightness, almost euphoria. Then she sensed the prickling start on her scalp as the shock of a warm, sure touch that wasn’t Ed’s sank in. The music was muffled and seemed far off. She slowed, pressing his arms away.

  ‘Thanks. That’s enough now.’

  ‘Thank you, madame. You dance well. But next time I bring a pig’s bladder to urge you on.’ He stepped back, staggering slightly. ‘You okay, madame? Have I offended you?’

  ‘No, no offence. I’m a bit too warm, that’s all. Enjoy your day.’

  She collected her cheesecake, flustered. She looked around, hoping that no one had seen her and then realized that the press of people had other things to focus on and she wouldn’t interest anyone. The music stopped as the musicians took a quick break and the accordionist was pouring drinks from a tall jug filled with slices of cucumber and sprigs of mint. He nodded to her, wiping his brow. He had green ribbons tied around his ponytail.

  ‘Hi,’ she said. ‘Lovely music. I saw you at the nursery, didn’t I? In the garden. You’re Jerry Wilby.’

  ‘That’s right. I spoke to your colleague, DC Hill. We’re all still finding it hard to believe that Lauren’s gone.’

  ‘Yes, it’s very sad. You told DC Hill about Lauren’s concern that a man had stared at her when she was swimming.’

  He took a sip of his drink. ‘I hope you didn’t mind me phoning in. I didn’t want to take up police time, but everyone at work has been in such a state and I thought it might be important.’

  ‘You were right to tell us. Have you remembered anything else that Lauren said about that incident?’

  ‘Sorry, no.’ He took another gulp of water. ‘Have you any idea who might have done this? I mean, it’d be good to be able to give my colleagues an update.’

  ‘Best to leave that to us, Mr Wilby.’

  ‘Of course. Sorry, I’m jumping the gun. How’s Lauren’s husband doing?’

  ‘He’s very upset, of course.’

  ‘Yeah.’ He took an ice cube from his drink and rubbed it on his neck. ‘Any luck identifying that little girl in the photo?’

  ‘We’re working away all the time. You can reassure your colleagues that we’re doing our best.’

  ‘Okay, will do.’ He smiled. ‘Phew! It’s hard work, playing in this heat.’

  ‘Worth it, though.’

  ‘Thanks. We’re enjoying ourselves so I hope everyone else is.’

  Julia appeared with a list in her hand. ‘Sorry to interrupt but can I have a word about the next set, Jerry? I just want to check my announcements are correct.’

  Siv stepped away as Julia showed Jerry the list. She bought a cold fruit juice and sipped it slowly as she made her way to the police stall, where she chatted to colleagues for a while before heading home.

  She’d just put the cheesecake in the fridge when Cora Laffin phoned her.

  ‘I’ve been thinking about that photo of the little girl ever since you showed it to me. Thing is, I thought she looked like someone I knew but I couldn’t think why.’

  ‘And do you know her?’

  ‘No, but I know who she looks like. She looks like Lauren when we were little. I found a photo from junior school and there’s a real resemblance.’

  ‘Okay. But Lauren didn’t have any other family, did she?’

  ‘No. Just her and her mum.’

  ‘Had her mum possibly been married before, or had a child?’

  ‘I’m pretty certain not. She said she’d never been married and had never wanted to and I can’t see her being a woman who’d have had a child adopted.’

  ‘Can you send me a copy of the photo you have?’

  ‘Sure. Do you think it might help at all?’

  ‘No idea.’

  But it’s not as if I’ve got anything else. The photo arrived within minutes. Cora had sent the full image of a class photo, and another focused in on Lauren next to Cora in the middle row. Siv pinched it to its largest on her iPad and compared it to the photo of the unknown child. She saw that Cora was right. It was the same smile and expression. The same nose. The unknown girl had darker hair and narrower eyes but there had to be a genetic link. But what was it and why did it lead someone to kill? She thought for a moment. She should have set this line of enquiry in motion before now. Visser’s and Seaton’s lies had absorbed her and the team. Then she emailed Cora:

  Can you send me any details you have of Lauren’s mother? Full name, DOB, address, any other personal stuff you remember.

  * * *

  She called at Visser’s house on the way back into town. She saw him through the front window. He was in shorts and a vest, working at his laptop. When he glanced up and saw her he gave a sour look. He opened the door so abruptly that it banged back against the wall.

  ‘Do you bother people at weekends as well?’

  ‘Murder doesn’t recognize weekends. I thought you’d be pleased, since you’ve given us two weeks to find the killer and you frittered time away with lies. Can I come in? It won’t take long.’

  She sat opposite him in the living room. ‘You’ll be pleased to hear that Ms Davis agreed with your account of the early hours of Monday.’

  ‘Good.’ He couldn’t meet her eyes.

  ‘I need information from you. Do you have any photograph albums with pictures of Lauren’s mother, or any personal information that Lauren kept about her?’

  ‘Probably, somewhere around. Why do you want any of that?’

  ‘It’s just a line of enquiry. Could you have a look now? Then I could t
ake it with me.’

  He sighed heavily and left the room. Siv heard the sound of a loft ladder being lowered. She sat back and read an email from Cora, giving details of Lauren’s mother:

  Sue Farthing. Don’t know her DOB but she was fifty-three when she died. They lived at 22 Broad Street. Sue had always lived here. Her parents were dead and they’d left her the house. She had no siblings that she ever mentioned. I remember Lauren saying she’d have liked to have aunts, uncles or cousins like everyone else. I think her mum worked at Monkmere garage before she had Lauren. I once asked Lauren how her mum could afford not to work and she said that her grandparents had left her some money. That’s all I know. Kids aren’t that interested in their friends’ parents.

  Visser came back after ten minutes with one photo album and an A4 brown envelope. ‘I’ve found these. Lauren sold her mother’s house after we married and invested the money in this property. It was a small terraced place near the harbour. I think a lot of stuff was just cleared out but Lauren put these in a box marked “Mum.” I think it’s all there was.’

  ‘Thanks. I’ll return them when I’ve had a look. Do you want a receipt for them?’

  ‘No. I know where to find you.’

  She shook her head. ‘I’m not the enemy, Mr Visser. I know you’re embarrassed about Ms Davis but that’s your problem, not mine.’

  ‘I don’t need any homilies. Is that all?’

  ‘That’s it. Don’t bother getting up. I know where the door is.’

  Chapter Twenty-two

  She glanced at her watch as she got in the car and saw that she was going to be late. She was supposed to be at Nutmeg to meet Ali and co. She’d been steeling herself for this all day. She wanted to be there about as much as Ade Visser had wanted to talk to her. Best to get it over with. Even so, she drove slowly and took her time finding a parking spot. The restaurant was in the conservation area, half a dozen or so streets that backed up from the harbour. She sat in the car park, making unnecessary tweaks to her hair and pointlessly trying to smooth creases in her cotton top. She felt all edges and angles and loitered on the pavement across from the restaurant for a few minutes, fighting the urge to bolt. Then she told herself that this was ridiculous and that if Ali had seen her through the window and she vanished, she’d hurt his feelings. She crossed the road and had to breathe deeply as she opened the door. The buzz of conversation hit her.

  ‘Hi!’ Ali looked up as soon as she entered and came over to greet her. He led her to a table where Patrick and Noah were sitting with a group of other colleagues from the station. She took a chair next to Noah and accepted a glass of wine from Ali, admiring his glowing skin.

  ‘You look as if you’ve been out in the sun.’

  ‘I went for a long bike ride.’ He patted his stomach. ‘Trying to keep the weight down. Only trouble is, exercise makes me hungry. I got home and made a triple-decker sandwich. Polly was already here at work so I could get away with it.’

  ‘Does she monitor your diet?’

  ‘She tries to. Did you, with your husband?’

  ‘Not much. But he was a skinny-bones. Not that I’m casting aspersions on your weight.’

  ‘Cast away. I know I’m way too lardy.’

  She smiled. He was one of those people whose girth suited them and made them seem approachable. It was handy, having a sergeant who radiated a bloke-ish ease. ‘Did you have a wander round the festival?’ she asked.

  ‘Aye, I had a wee look. It was cracking but I found it all a bit manufactured. I don’t remember that much being made of May back in Derry. My great-uncle once told me that his gran used to wash her face in dew on May the first because it was supposed to make her beautiful for the following year. But she had to do it secretly because her dad didn’t approve of such foolishness.’

  ‘Well, the sun’s out and people are relaxing and possibly being a bit foolish. That’s the main thing.’

  ‘And are you relaxing?’

  She flinched, thinking of Nowak whirling her around in the dance and reached for her phone. ‘Never mind me. Just two minutes about work, then I’ll shut up.’ She told him about Cora Laffin’s information and her visit to Visser. He looked at the photos Cora had sent.

  ‘I get it, but lots of young kids look alike. There’s loads of little girls with big smiles and bunches. I see them everywhere I go.’

  ‘I give you that but there’s more there — the expression and the nose. Cora saw it and she grew up with Lauren.’

  Ali shrugged. ‘I dunno. This is an entirely new direction, guv. You really think it’s something to do with the mother? Seems unlikely to me. Could be a real time-waster.’

  ‘Visser and Seaton were time-wasters. Look, Mason Granger has no alibi but there’s no clear motive and nothing to place him at Lock Lane. Simon Rochford has no alibi but no real form and his car checked out. We’ve no forensics. This is the only direction available right now. Have you got a better suggestion?’

  ‘Well . . . no.’

  ‘Exactly, so we’ll go with this and see where it leads.’

  Ali continued to look dubious. ‘How was Mortimer when you saw him?’

  ‘So-so. Abrupt.’

  ‘Look, guv . . . I’ve been wondering whether or not to tell you this but Mortimer had his eye on someone for the vacancy you filled. A protégé of his, Tommy Castles. He’d been mentoring Tommy and I reckon he thought he’d be able to get him in but then you came along. Mortimer had a face like a wet week after you were appointed.’

  She took a gulp of wine. ‘And where’s Tommy now?’

  ‘He went off to Kent, got a promotion there. So . . . you know . . . it might be worth oiling the wheels a bit with Mortimer. He can be difficult, sometimes I think just because he can, and he’s a man to hold a grudge.’

  ‘Right. Thanks for letting me know, I appreciate it. I’m not eating, by the way. I’ll just have this drink and then I’ll head off.’

  He looked disappointed. ‘Polly’s a great chef. You don’t know what you’re missing.’

  If you only knew what an effort it took just to come here. ‘Another time. Do go ahead and order if you want.’

  Noah turned to her as Ali picked up a menu. ‘I think I remember you from school. Did you go to Newton High?’

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘And you made that beautiful paper spiral that sat on a table in the foyer?’

  ‘Yes. I’d forgotten that. It took me weeks. Sorry, I don’t remember you.’

  ‘You wouldn’t. I was five years below you. I used to see you around and you fascinated me because you looked a bit formidable.’

  She laughed. ‘Don’t tell anyone but that’s the look I adopt when I’m thinking or when I’m nervous. My sister Rik was the truly formidable one, but she’d have left by the time you joined the school.’

  ‘That spiral inspired me to take up origami. I thought it was so lovely. I’d never have thought paper could have energy. I used to pop into the foyer at break times to look at it. I touched it once and that old dragon Ms Walker told me off. So then I thought I’d try my own folding at home. I used to fold when the mood took me until I had the stroke. Haven’t got the coordination now.’

  ‘That’s tough.’

  ‘Nah. Going to the toilet’s tough. And having a conversation, cause I talk so slow. I see people’s eyes glazing over, wondering if I’ll ever get to the point. Things take on a different perspective when life throws you a wobbly.’

  He was right. She wasn’t sure what her perspective was any more. Out of focus, blurred.

  He dabbed his mouth with a napkin. ‘Thanks for listening to the end of my long drawn-out sentences and not interrupting.’

  ‘You don’t have to thank me for that.’

  ‘You reckon? Do you still fold?’

  ‘Yes. I’m making something now. I’ve always done it, off and on, and more so in recent months.’

  Noah had a straw in his pale red cocktail. He sipped and then asked matter-of-factly, �
�How did you come by the scar? I wanted to ask you at school but I didn’t dare. Now I’m disinhibited because of my stroke and I’m two negronis in, so I can ask people all kinds of personal questions and they can’t take offence. There have to be some perks to being part vegetable.’

  She realized she’d been touching the ridge of scar because she was tense. ‘My mother was pushing me on a swing when I was a toddler. She hadn’t fastened the bars properly. She gave me a push, turned away to talk to her gentleman friend and I fell out and cut my eye.’

  ‘Bad momma.’ He leaned forward, slurped through his straw and then beckoned her closer. ‘I’m a bad bro. Patrick shouldn’t have to look after me. It’s not right. He’s got a demanding job and me hanging around just puts pressure on him.’

  Why are you telling me? Because I’m his boss and he’s told you the guv leaned on him? Do you want me to give him special consideration? ‘Perhaps he wants to look after you.’

  ‘Not the same thing. It’s not fair. I tire him out. I see him getting worn down instead of living his life. Just because mine’s been smashed doesn’t mean his should be too.’

  She wasn’t sure she was fit to deal with anyone else’s emotions but there was something in Noah’s voice, an appeal. She felt bad for doubting his motives. That was one of the problems with being a practised detective. You were in the habit of never taking anyone at face value. She heard Ed’s voice. Why are you asking me so many questions and giving me that look? I’m not in custody! She spoke quietly. ‘My husband was killed in an accident last year. If he’d been left badly injured, I’d have wanted to look after him.’

  ‘Yeah, I get that, but you were married. You’d made promises. Not the same with brothers.’

  ‘Why not, Noah? Love’s a promise in itself, isn’t it?’

  His eyebrows went up. ‘Food for thought but it still doesn’t get me off the hook.’

  Patrick was waving a wine bottle at her but she covered her glass and said she had to go. Ali walked her to the bar and a bosomy, flushed woman in chef whites hurried out from the kitchen. Ali introduced her to Siv, who nodded and chatted, barely aware of what she was saying, only that the clamour of voices around her was making her jittery. The muscles in her calves spasmed. She longed to be in the quiet of her home, wrapped in Ed’s sweatshirt.