‘Do you work with the relatives of the residents?’ Meadows asked.
‘Sometimes.’
‘You were working at Bethesda at the time of the abuse case?’
‘Yes, although I never witnessed any abuse first-hand. I did assess the residents and give evidence at the trial.’ Martin shook his head sadly. ‘It never fails to shock me that those in a position of trust abuse the most vulnerable.’
‘I expect you’ve seen some horrors in your line of work,’ Edris said.
‘Yes, too much.’
‘So you have no doubt the abuse took place?’ Meadows asked.
‘None at all. You’ll find that the majority of the residents don’t make up stories. They have no guile. Yes, they can throw a tantrum and be difficult but there is also an innocence about them.’
‘What did you make of the allegations against Alan Whitby?’
‘The residents didn’t like him very much and I got the sense that some of them were afraid of him. Unfortunately, I couldn’t isolate any one incident. I did voice my concerns at the time of the investigation. No charges were brought against Alan so other than keep an eye on the situation, there wasn’t much I could do.’
‘Did you discuss the case with the families?’
‘Yes, naturally they were very distressed and concerned.’
‘Any particular member of the families stand out as being threatening or display anger against those accused?’
Martin took a sip of his tea. ‘Well, there was plenty of anger and who can blame them. If I recall, Kevin’s brother, Adam, was very verbal at the trial.’
‘Have you ever met with someone called Anna?’ Edris asked. ‘She’d be one of the relatives.’
Martin ran his hand over his chin thoughtfully. ‘No. I don’t think so.’
‘What about Tara Lane?’ Meadows asked.
‘No– oh, hang on, wasn’t she the woman found dead in Ynys Melyn this morning?’
‘Yes, although officially we haven’t released her name.’
‘You don’t need a newspaper around here.’ Martin smiled. ‘Was she a relative of one of the residents?’
‘That’s what we’re trying to find out. We have reason to believe that she was the mother of one of the residents. We know that Liam has been in care all his life and there is no mention of Kevin’s mother in his file. We are looking into the backgrounds of the other families. We were hoping you might be able to help with this.’
‘Well you’re right about Liam. He was transferred to Bethesda from Bristol, it wasn’t his first move. I’m afraid I can’t help you with his early life. I’ll make some enquiries when I get into the office in the morning but it may take some time.’
‘That would be great,’ Meadows said. ‘And Kevin?’
‘Kevin the gentle giant, he’s quite a character.’ Martin smiled. ‘Kevin’s mother left when the boys were young. It’s not unusual in cases like this. It can be very difficult and frustrating raising a child with Kevin’s disabilities. Then there is the guilt, especially when a decision has to be made about full-time care.’
‘Do you remember the mother’s name?’
‘No, sorry, the family never talk about her and Kevin has forgotten. I’ll look it up for you. As for the others, Vanessa’s parents have passed away and I don’t think there are any other absent mothers but I can’t be certain.’
‘That’s OK, you have been a great help.’ Meadows stood and put down his mug. ‘Thank you for your time this evening.’
‘You’re welcome,’ Martin said. ‘I’m sorry I couldn’t be more help. I hope you find what you are looking for.’
‘So do I,’ Meadows said.
Before it’s too late.
Chapter Thirty
Meadows zipped in and out of the lanes as unfamiliar music played on the car stereo. The team were out interviewing relatives of the residents of Bethesda House and Valentine had made arrangements for him to meet Tara Lane’s GP later that day. He was hoping that Tara’s mother, Joan, would shed some light on the absent children.
‘Looks like it’s going to snow,’ Edris commented.
They had just passed Port Talbot steelworks where plumes of smoke rose to meet grey, leaden skies.
‘Well let’s hope it doesn’t. I don’t want to get stuck in Cardiff.’ Meadows reached out and turned down the volume on the stereo. ‘What is this rubbish?’
‘It’s just a compilation CD I made up for you, to bring you up to date. It’s club music.’
‘I can’t think with this constant beat, it all sounds the same to me!’ Meadows said.
‘Fine, I’ll put another one on.’ Edris changed the CD and sat back in the seat. ‘Try this.’
‘That’s a bit better, who’s this?’
‘Red Hot Chili Peppers. Californication.’
‘I can live with this.’
Meadows tapped the steering wheel as he drove. The traffic was light and soon they were passing Castell Coch, perched on a hilltop, with its fairy tale turrets peeking out of the trees. They took the slip road and joined the traffic from the A470. Meadows was grateful they didn’t have to drive into the city centre. The second turning led them to Riverview retirement home. A newly built complex with wide paths and benches dotted around a lawn.
Inside, they were shown into the matron’s office where a plump woman with a cheery smile greeted them. ‘Irene Jones,’ she said and held out her hand.
Meadows made the introductions and took a seat.
‘Joan is just finishing her breakfast, then she’ll return to her room. She had a bad morning so she’s running late today.’ Irene smiled. ‘I’ll get one of the staff to take you up shortly. We were all very sorry to hear about Tara.’
‘Have you told Joan about her daughter?’
‘Yes, although how much she has taken it in I can’t be certain. Joan suffers from dementia. It started in her mid-sixties. She’s one of our youngest residents. Most are in their eighties.’
‘How long has Joan been with you?’ Edris asked, pen poised over his notebook.
‘Five years.’
‘So she’s about seventy?’
‘Yes, she celebrated her seventieth birthday a few months ago. Tara took her out for the day and bought her a huge birthday cake.’
‘Did she live with Tara before she came here?’ Meadows asked.
‘No, she lived alone. When she became ill there was no one to take care of her. Tara worked and lived too far away to check on her mother every day.’
‘Was Tara upset moving her mother into residential care?’ Edris asked.
Good question.
Meadows gave his constable an encouraging nod.
‘It’s always a difficult decision to make for any family member and Tara was an only child so had no support. If I remember correctly, she said she thought her mother was better off with us.’
‘Did Tara visit often?’ Meadows asked.
‘Every two weeks on a Saturday; sometimes she came in between. I know she caught the train and I had the sense that she would’ve come more often if she could afford the journey.’
‘Does Joan have any other visitors?’
‘Her old neighbour Liz. She comes now and again but finds it difficult. Sometimes Joan doesn’t remember her. There were even days she didn’t recognise Tara. There’s been no one else.’
‘Has Joan ever mentioned grandchildren?’ Meadows asked.
‘No, from what I understand Tara didn’t have any children.’
There was a knock on the door and a woman with cropped brown hair and various piercings on her face and ears entered. ‘Joan is back in her room now.’
‘Thanks, Sally, would you mind taking these gentlemen to see her?’
They followed Sally down the corridor and into a light cosy room which housed a single bed and table, where a jigsaw was laid out. An armchair was positioned next to the window where Joan stood looking out.
‘Some visitors for you, Joan,’ Sally said.
‘Hello, Joan.’ Meadows stepped forward. ‘I’m Detective Inspector Meadows and this is Detective Constable Edris. Do you mind if we ask you a few questions?’
Joan turned to Sally. ‘I don’t know these people.’
‘Policemen, Joan, they have come to talk about Tara.’
Sally said. ‘Do you remember we talked about Tara yesterday?’
‘Tara?’ Joan looked at her watch. ‘Tara’s in school. Has she been bunking off again?’ Joan shook her head. ‘I don’t know what I’m going to do with that girl.’
‘Come and sit down, Joan,’ Sally took her arm and guided her into the armchair. ‘Tara is grown up now.’ Sally knelt and took hold of Joan’s hands. ‘I’m sorry, Joan, Tara died yesterday and the police need to ask you a few questions.’
‘No, not my Tara. There must be some mistake.’ Her lips quivered.
Poor woman.
‘Perhaps a cup of tea,’ Meadows suggested. He placed a chair in front of Joan. ‘I’m really sorry about Tara,’ he said as he sat down.
‘I keep forgetting things, sometimes everything just blurs together.’ Joan took a tissue from her sleeve and dabbed her eyes.
‘How about we talk about what you do remember,’ Meadows said. ‘It sounds like Tara was full of mischief. Did she often bunk off school?’
‘Oh yes.’ Joan gave a watery smile. ‘She didn’t like school very much. She was such a sweet little thing but he spoilt things.’
‘Who spoilt things?’
‘Her father. Bastard. I should’ve left him when she was a baby.’
‘Where’s Tara’s father now?’
‘I don’t know and I don’t care. Dead with a bit of luck. We were better off without him. The only good thing he did was leave us.’ Joan turned her gaze to the window.
‘Did Tara get on with her father?’
Joan returned her gaze to Meadows. ‘No, he beat her. I tried to stop him, but it only made things worse for both of us.’ She looked down at her hands. ‘There wasn’t the help then. I know what people thought, if she has a black eye she probably deserves it, can’t keep her man happy. It wasn’t like that and I was ashamed to go to my parents.’
‘I understand,’ Meadows said kindly. ‘Tara must have been very unhappy.’
Joan looked up. ‘She was full of hell, smoking, drinking and boys. I think she did it to get back at her father. She’s a pretty girl.’
‘Yes,’ Meadows agreed. ‘She had a baby, didn’t she?’
‘She was still a baby herself, too young to be a mother.’
‘How old was she when she had the baby?’
‘Barely sixteen.’
‘A boy or a girl?’
‘Lovely baby boy,’ Joan smiled. ‘And she loved him.’
‘What did she call him?’
‘She called him… she called him…’ Joan’s face creased with concentration. ‘I can’t remember now’ – she put her hand to her head – ‘I should remember.’
‘It’s OK, it doesn’t matter, I’m sure it will come back to you,’ Meadows said.
‘I think this might help.’ Edris plucked a photograph from the shelf and handed it to Joan. ‘Is this Tara and her baby?’
Joan rubbed her fingertips over the photograph. ‘Yes, Tara and Dean.’
‘Dean? Is that the name of Tara’s baby?’ Meadows asked.
‘No, Tara’s boyfriend.’ Joan pointed to the young man in the photograph.
‘Is Dean the baby’s father?’
‘Yes, he’s a nice boy.’
‘What’s Dean’s surname?’ Edris asked.
Joan shrugged her shoulders.
‘What happened to the baby?’ Meadows asked.
‘She lost him.’ Joan handed the photo to Meadows.
‘You mean the baby died?’
‘No, the baby didn’t die.’ Joan frowned.
‘Was he taken away?’
‘Here we go.’ Sally entered the room carrying a tray which she set down on the table. She took a cup and handed it to Joan. ‘Help yourself to milk and sugar,’ she said to Meadows, smiling.
Meadows stood and poured milk into a dainty cup. ‘Was the baby taken away?’
‘What baby?’ Joan looked at Meadows as if he had only just stepped into the room.
‘Tara’s baby.’
‘Tara doesn’t have a baby,’ Joan snapped. ‘What’s he talking about, Sally?’ Joan sipped her tea. ‘That’s lovely. Is the lady coming to do my hair today?’
‘No, she comes on Friday,’ Sally said.
‘Do you know where we can find Dean?’ Edris asked.
‘Dean? I don’t know anyone called Dean.’
‘Tara’s boyfriend,’ Meadows prompted.
‘No, Tara doesn’t have a boyfriend. Her man died. She’ll be coming on Saturday. She always comes and stays the day. She’s a good girl.’
Meadows nodded. ‘Well thank you for talking to us, Joan.’ He drained his cup and placed it on the tray.
‘Has Joan ever told you about her grandson?’ Edris asked Sally.
‘I didn’t know she had one.’ Sally lowered her voice. ‘As far as I know Tara was the only family she had.’
* * *
‘Maybe her illness is a blessing,’ Edris commented as they drove back to Bryn Mawr. ‘At least she can live in the past and not have to deal with the death of her daughter.’
‘Oh, I don’t know,’ Meadows said. ‘When she remembers that Tara comes to visit she will have to be told what happened. Imagine reliving that pain every time. No moving through the grieving process.’
‘Yeah, I didn’t think of that. It wasn’t worth upsetting her today, we didn’t really learn anything.’
‘We know Tara had a son and the father of the baby is called Dean. We also have a rough idea of when the baby was born. If Tara was sixteen at the time then we’re looking at 1988 or ’89. Narrows it down a little.’
They arrived at the station and Edris headed to the canteen while Meadows briefed the team.
‘We still don’t know where the child was born, it could be Cardiff or she may have been living somewhere else at the time,’ Paskin pointed out. ‘It’s a hell of a job to go through every baby boy born in those years on the registers of births and deaths.’
‘I’m hoping to get some more information from Tara’s medical records. I have to wait until the end of the doctor’s surgery to see him but we should get an exact date of birth.’
‘You should just walk in there and flash your warrant card. Demand he sees you straight away,’ Blackwell growled.
‘I find that gets people’s backs up,’ Meadows said. ‘At least the doctor is happy to disclose the information on a voluntary basis. He has no obligation to do so, if we have to make a formal request it could set us back. Did you talk to Kevin’s family?’
‘No, they’re away on holiday according to the neighbours,’ Blackwell huffed. ‘Waste of time.’
‘No adoption or divorce with the other families,’ Valentine said.
‘OK, we need background checks on all the staff, including relief staff. I want to know previous employment, references, family background.’
‘I brought you a sandwich, cheese.’ Edris handed the package to Meadows.
‘Where’s mine?’ Valentine teased.
‘I thought you lot would have had lunch by now,’ Edris said.
‘We’ve been too busy for lunch.’
Meadows took some money from his wallet and handed it to Edris. ‘Go and get a plate full of sandwiches and bring another packet of biscuits. Someone ate the last lot.’
‘I believe that was you.’ Valentine grinned.
After a quick lunch the team returned to their tasks. Meadows blocked out the noise as they made constant telephone calls. He stood at the incident
board updating the notes and trying to make the connections.
It all centres on Bethesda House. But what is Tara’s connection to Bethesda? The child she placed in care? Or more likely the child was taken away from her. Joan said she lost the child. Tara must have tracked him down. It makes sense – why else leave the money to Bethesda? But why was she killed? Did she find out about the abuse, raise questions, or was she involved with Alan as a way to get close to her son? Maybe she knew Alan’s killer, or was a witness. No, it’s more than that. There has to be a second child: one in Bethesda, the other one protecting them and seeking revenge.
Meadows ran his hands through his hair.
Finding Tara’s son is the key and maybe that will lead us to the killer.
He left the team to continue with their enquiries and headed for the doctors’ surgery in Ynys Melyn with Edris.
* * *
There were a few people milling around in the community centre where the doctor’s surgery was housed, cleaning up after the local children’s playgroup. Meadows’ eyes were drawn to the large posters advertising vaccinations and help for the elderly in the winter as he walked through the building.
‘You can smell the germs in the air,’ Edris said as they headed for the reception area. ‘They all sit here itching and coughing. You soon get sick sitting in here.’
‘It’s a doctors’ surgery, what do you expect?’
‘They should stay home until they get better and not infect the rest of the population.’ Edris laughed.
‘You’re such a caring soul,’ Meadows said. ‘Puts the rest of us to shame.’
‘Dr Reynolds is expecting you,’ the stern-faced receptionist said as they approached the desk. ‘You can go straight in, first door on the left.’
Dr Reynolds, a stocky man with brown curly hair, stood up from behind the desk and held out his hand in greeting. Meadows shook it and took a seat.
‘Thank you for seeing us.’
‘Shocking news.’ Dr Reynolds shook his head sadly. ‘It’s not the sort of thing one would expect in a village like this. I’ve taken a quick look through Tara’s records. As you’ll already be aware, she was a heavy drinker. She was admitted to a rehabilitation centre in 1997 for drug and alcohol abuse. Since then as far as I can tell she has been clean of drugs. Other than the occasional prescription for antibiotics and a referral to the sexual health clinic there isn’t anything that stands out.’
Frozen Minds: A murder mystery set deep in Wales (DI Winter Meadows Book 2) Page 20
