Almost Love

by Christina James

  Although he had awaited her return with impatience, Tim had meantime been co-ordinating the searches for both Alex Tarrant and Guy Maichment. He’d put Andy Carstairs in charge of the operation on the ground. Police officers had been deployed across the Fens, helped also by reinforcements from Peterborough and North Lincs Police. Both Maichment’s and Alex’s photographs and descriptions had been circulated to the officers taking part, as well as details of Maichment’s Land Rover, but the media had been given details about Maichment only and asked to broadcast them immediately. On balance, Tim had decided that Superintendent Thornton’s instruction not to make public the details of Alex Tarrant’s disappearance yet was probably the right one, even though he did not share his boss’s rationale for withholding them. Tim had scant regard for the politics of the situation, but he believed that it was important to delay alerting Alex’s abductor for as long as they could; panicky kidnappers were dangerously unpredictable. Nevertheless, it was a difficult judgment to make. He was acutely aware that if they didn’t locate her in the next forty-eight hours, they would be lucky to find her alive. Tim explained all of this to Juliet as briefly as he could. “We’re covering as wide an area as possible and alerting other forces, in case either Maichment or the person who’s holding Alex Tarrant – which of course may be Maichment – tries to get away from this area completely.”

  “I don’t think that’s likely in her case,” said Juliet. “If Alex Tarrant has been kidnapped, it must have been for a purpose. There has to be a motive. I think that she was taken either to stop her from finding out about something or to prevent her from obstructing some action. My guess is that if whatever it is goes according to plan, she will be released. And I think that it’s likely she’s being held somewhere local. Why would the person who’s holding her run the risk of being spotted on a major road when there are so many tiny lanes and deserted outbuildings in this area? We could search the Fens for days without finding her.”

  “Let’s hope that you’re wrong about that, but right in thinking that she’s still in South Lincs. We still have to cover the widest possible area, even so. That may help us to find Maichment. And Thornton’s already furious because he thinks that I’m responsible for Alex Tarrant’s disappearance. He has told me to spare no resource to get her back now. He hardly had to make the point, actually; I’m quite aware that I should have looked after her better.” Tim’s face creased with weariness. Juliet was indignant on his behalf.

  “It’s too glib of Superintendent Thornton to blame you. Does he know that we’ve found some of Claudia McRae’s possessions at the gravel pit, by the way?”

  “God, no, I suppose I should have told him at once. Go and let him know yourself, now, will you? It will come better from you, since you were there, and you can explain the delay in telling him by saying that you’ve only just got back. He probably has Tom Tarrant with him at the moment. He’s expressly forbidden me to sit in on the interview, but he may let you join in. If he does, try to probe Tom for any information that you think might help us. Then get rid of him as soon as possible and tell Thornton about the new McRae development. But hurry back as soon as you can – I urgently need your help to make sense of some other information I have.”

  Juliet smiled briefly. It was typical of Tim to forget about her existence for days and then expect her to jump to attention and complete several tasks at once. Even more in character was his blithe assumption that she could take over an interview that had been set up by Superintendent Thornton himself. Tim might believe that she could hold sway with her superior interviewing skills, but the Superintendent would have other ideas.

  She returned in less than half an hour.

  “I think that you were right,” she said. “Tom Tarrant seems to be able to offer very little that could shed light on his wife’s disappearance. He made one cryptic comment, about feeling that she had recently distanced herself from him for a time, but, when the Superintendent asked him if he meant that she might have been having an affair, he backed off immediately. He said that their relationship was a very happy one and that he might have imagined that the problem. Anyway, he’s adamant that they are now as close as ever again.”

  “Trust Thornton to blunder in flat-footedly and ask the question head-on! What kind of response did he expect? What about her friends? Did he ask about them, or whether Tom Tarrant thought that any of them might know where she is, or even perhaps that she might have gone to see one of them without mentioning it?”

  “He did ask that. Apparently she has only one close friend, a woman who lives in Ireland. Her name is Carolyn Sheldrake. She’s actually working in London at the moment and met Alex for lunch a few days ago. Tom got in touch with her as soon as he became alarmed. He established that Alex wasn’t with this woman and hasn’t been in touch with her today.”

  “Did he tell you how to get hold of Carolyn Sheldrake?”

  “He’s given me her mobile number.”

  “Good. I’d like you to call her a bit later. But first I want you to look at this.”

  Tim produced the transcripts of the newspaper articles that Katrin had e-mailed to him and waited impatiently for Juliet to read them. Belatedly, he saw that he was making her nervous and moved a few steps away to look out of the window. Juliet deliberately took her time. She was a slow reader, but a meticulous one. Tim knew that she would remember almost every word of what she was reading; more to the point, she’d be able to compare it in equal detail with stuff that she had read days or even weeks before.

  She looked up, thoughtful.

  “I do remember some references to someone called Abigail,” she said, “but not from the Elida Berg articles. And I didn’t know her surname, nor that Claudia McRae had adopted her. I thought that she was just a girl who had accompanied Claudia on one of her digs in the 1950s. But, if her surname was Maichment, or for some reason she chose to take that name, I suppose that she could have been Guy’s mother. I didn’t find out why she went on the dig, but I do know that it turned out to be a disastrous experiment. Apparently, Abigail showed not the slightest bit of interest in archaeology and refused to earn her keep by doing any work whatsoever. However, there was plenty to fuel her principle pastime, in the form of an abundant supply of unattached young men. Claudia herself seems to have occupied a Gloriana-like place in the coterie of young male archaeology students who were born after the war. They vied to be selected for her expeditions; it is interesting that she rarely chose women to accompany her, despite her alleged orientation. But although the men presumably aroused no sexual feelings in her, it still rankled when Abigail began to flaunt her charms. Eventually, Abigail was sent home at her own request, apparently to attend a secretarial college. I don’t know what happened to her after that.”

  “How did you find all this out? I assume that it wasn’t written down in the blank pages of the family Bible?”

  Juliet smiled.

  “No. As a matter of fact, it wasn’t difficult. I got most of it from Oliver Sparham, when he was showing me some old photographs of digs.”

  “Really?” asked Tim. “I didn’t know that you’d been to see him.”

  “I haven’t. He was at the Archaeological Society this afternoon when I called in to ask Alex Tarrant to sign her statement about the break-in.”

  “Interesting. He’s a character that I’ve largely overlooked during this investigation. I liked him when I met him, as well. I’m sure that any information that he can provide will be trustworthy. I suppose I should have made more of his long-term acquaintance with Dame Claudia. It might be worth talking to him again. Not now, though. I’d like you to try to think more about the significance of all this stuff that we’ve dredged up from Dame Claudia’s past – if it is significant. It could be totally irrelevant. But first of all I’d like you to call Carolyn Sheldrake. See if you can get any more out of her than Tom Tarrant could. Use my office – you’ll need some peace and quiet
.”

  Tim had barely finished his conversation with Juliet when Superintendent Thornton bustled into view.

  “Ah, Yates. DC Armstrong tells me that there may be another body at the Helpston property. Excellent news if it’s Dame Claudia’s. What steps are you taking to have the gravel pits searched? I trust that there are already frogmen there now trying to find it?”

  Tim ignored the Superintendent’s callous satisfaction at the likelihood that the corpse would come in handy to tidy up the case.

  “We’ve asked Peterborough police to continue with the search, sir. It’s their patch, after all. They will send divers in, but probably not until tomorrow. If Dame Claudia’s body is in one of the pits, she’s beyond our help and our priority is clearly to find her killer. The only person whom we know to be associated with that place is Guy Maichment and, as you know, a massive co-ordinated search for him was set in train as soon as we found the unidentified male body. We’re using the same team to look for Alex Tarrant, although of course we have no way of telling whether or not she is with Maichment.”

  “Is there no-one else at all whom we know to be associated with Maichment? What about that rather personable woman who came here a few weeks ago? Didn’t you say that she was his aunt’s housekeeper, or something?”

  Jane Halliwell! Tim was furious with himself. How could he have forgotten her or how suspicious of her he had been? It was doubly galling that it was Thornton who had reminded him about her. However, the Superintendent’s thoughts had already flitted grasshopper-like to another subject. Tim noted that the smile was fast fading from his face.

  “I don’t know the details of the operation that you’ve set up, Yates, nor do I particularly want to know them, but I stand by what I said earlier. I want Alex Tarrant to be returned to her husband this evening. Poor chap’s in a terrible state.” He changed subjects again. “I’m going to call Roy Little about the gravel pits now. No doubt his own coppers have briefed him – though if he gets the same level of co-operation from them as I ‘enjoy’ here, it’s by no means a foregone conclusion.”

  He walked briskly away.

  Tim called Andy Carstairs.

  “Where are you, Andy?”

  “I’m heading out to brief some of the Peterborough team.”

  “Are any of our lot in the vicinity of Welland Manor at the moment?”

  “Gary Cooper’s just left the cottage at Helpston. Why do you ask?”

  “I want someone to bring Jane Halliwell in for questioning.”

  “I’ll get in touch with Gary. Do you want him to caution her?”

  “Not if she co-operates. I don’t want to alarm her unnecessarily; and I actually don’t yet have any idea of what she might be guilty. I’m certain that she’s deeply involved in all of this, but I’m not sure in what way.”

  Chapter Fifty

  Juliet jotted down a few notes for herself before calling Carolyn Sheldrake. Other than being Alex Tarrant’s friend, the woman was a completely unknown quantity. Juliet did not like conducting important interviews by telephone with witnesses she had not met. If the situation hadn’t been so urgent, she would have arranged to meet Ms Sheldrake in London. As that wasn’t possible, at the very least she wanted to get her questions in the right order.

  Carolyn Sheldrake proved to be an engaging and helpful witness. She seemed to be very open and genuinely worried about Alex Tarrant. She told Juliet that she had spoken only once to Alex since the break-in, when she had still seemed very shaken by it. She’d indicated that there were details that she was not allowed to disclose to Carolyn.

  “Naturally I was curious,” said Carolyn, “but I was much more concerned about the effect of whatever it was on Alex than on what it was in itself. I hope that it wasn’t something very horrible?”

  “It was quite unpleasant,” said Juliet. “Mr Tarrant said that you had met his wife recently for lunch in London. Did you think that there was anything worrying her?”

  There was a long silence before Carolyn Sheldrake cleared her throat. Still she did not speak.

  “Ms Sheldrake? Did you find it difficult to answer my last question?”

  “Not exactly difficult, no. But I should hate to betray a confidence . . .”

  “Ms Sheldrake, Mrs Tarrant’s life may be in danger. We have no idea where she is at the moment and this, coupled with the break-in, gives us good cause to think that someone intends her harm. If you can help to throw any light at all on what has happened to her, you must tell me.”

  “Do you promise not to tell Tom?”

  “Everything that you tell me will be kept strictly confidential unless it hinders the investigation.”

  “I suppose that’s as much as I can ask for. I just don’t want to do anything to harm Alex’s happiness.”

  “Please, Ms Sheldrake, we’re losing valuable time talking about this.”

  There was another silence.

  “OK. Alex was . . . not exactly upset when I saw her, but unhappy. She’d drifted into an affair which had proved unsatisfactory; from my outside perspective, it was difficult to see what the attraction was in the first place, but that is always the case in my experience – I usually find it impossible to explain the dynamics of sexual relationships, don’t you? Anyway, Alex asked my advice and I said that I didn’t like the sound of the man concerned and that she didn’t seem very committed either to him or to the affair. She agreed with me – I think she was really just asking me to confirm what she already thought herself – and promised me that she’d break the relationship off that day. I didn’t find out whether she actually did it, though, because I’ve spoken to her only once since then. Neither of us thought to bring up the subject of lover boy.”

  “Did she tell you the name of her lover?”

  “Yes – it was someone she’d met through work – aren’t they always! I’d never heard her mention him before. You’ll have to give me a minute to try to think what he was called. I think his name was Edward . . . or Edmund, perhaps.”

  “Edmund Baker?”

  “Yes, Edmund Baker. That was it. From Alex’s description, he sounded a very pompous and self-interested man.”

  Tim was calling Andy Carstairs again, this time to ask him to send a policeman to bring in Edmund Baker for further questioning. Meanwhile, Juliet made tea for herself. It was many hours since she had eaten or drunk anything. A wave of faintness almost engulfed her. She shovelled an unaccustomed amount of sugar into the tea and gulped it down quickly.

  She revived quickly. She went back to her desk and looked again at the translated newspaper articles and the other documents that Katrin had sent. Then she conducted a quick mental review of all the information that she had collected over the past weeks. There must be some common theme to this strange ragbag of happenings and circumstances: two abductions; smears of blood at the addresses of each of the people abducted; an unidentified man who had certainly been murdered; the suspicious death of the wife of Edmund Baker, the County Heritage Officer, at a railway crossing; Baker’s affair with Alex Tarrant; archaeologists a-plenty, including the celebrated Dame Claudia McRae, the first of the abductees, who through ingenious analysis had expounded a right-wing interpretation of ancient cultures and had now almost certainly met her end in a gravel pit; her war-time relationship with a female Norwegian academic; the female academic’s disappearance decades ago after a fire; Jane Halliwell, lecturer in right-wing Politics turned secretary-companion, who was helping Dame Claudia to complete a mysterious magnum opus; Guy Maichment, former student in right-wing Politics turned landscape gardener, who was also Claudia McRae’s nephew; his mother, possibly called Abigail, possibly Dame Claudia’s adopted daughter; Guy’s own disappearance.

  These people and events were certainly inter-related in some way. Then there had been the other case – the drugs case headed up by Andy Carstairs – elements of which seemed to have brushe
d up against the McRae case on several occasions; the cared-for teenagers working on the Herrick Estate, where Guy Maichment was also working, who had been caught with drugs that they swore they knew nothing about; the cared-for boy who saw Krystyna Baker go to her death; the involvement of the delinquent Padgett family, who had clearly been drawn into something deeper than they had bargained for; Tom Tarrant, social worker, also husband of Alex.

  The two cases must be related . . . but what was the link?

  Tim burst in upon her thoughts.

  “I’ve just heard separately from Gary Cooper and Andy Carstairs. Jane Halliwell checked out of the Welland Manor Hotel this morning and left no forwarding address. Edmund Baker has also disappeared. Both of his sons are now at his house. One of them was out looking for him when I called; the other said that they have not seen him since this morning, though they didn’t realise that he was missing until this afternoon. I saw him myself this morning, at the Archaeological Society, so they are probably telling the truth.”

  Juliet stared at him as if she was in a trance.

  “It is the children!” she said. “The children at the Herrick home – they are in danger. I haven’t worked out the details, but I’m certain of it!”

  Chapter Fifty-One

  Although she had hit her head on the side of the van as she was pushed inside it, at no point was Alex entirely unconscious. The man who had grabbed her forced her down to her knees and swiped her across the back of her head. Coupled with the accidental blow, this almost knocked her out. She was dimly aware of having her face shoved down into a pile of fishy-smelling fabric. Her hands were still pinioned behind her in a rough male grasp. Her captor had large hands; he was able to hold both her wrists in one of them while securing her with some kind of restraint with the other. This turned out to be a makeshift handcuff of plastic ties. It was whipcord thin. She felt it dig into her flesh as he let her go, tossing her arms unceremoniously down on to her back as he did so. She tried to kick upwards with her legs in a hopeless bid to catch him in the face.