‘Good work. Give me a buzz if anything comes from meeting with the neighbours on the other side. I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you all to put a shift in on this,’ she said, glancing down at her watch. ‘You don’t need me to tell you that time is running out for a happy resolution.’
The whole room fell silent for a moment before erupting into activity, each of the officers starting work on their assigned tasks.
Gaby headed to Owen’s desk, laying a hand briefly on his shoulder. ‘I want you to leave work at a reasonable time this evening.’
‘But boss …’
‘No buts, my lad. The next time I bump into Kate I really don’t fancy my chances if I haven’t at least tried to give you a modicum of family time.’
‘What about you, hmm? You have as much right to downtime as any of us?’ He stared up at her for so long that she was hard pushed not to put a hand to her hair. She knew she looked like shit, the lines under her eyes multiplying at an alarming rate but it was something she was able to ignore. Mirrors were to be avoided at all cost and, as long as she didn’t arrive at her desk with toothpaste dribbling down her chin, she didn’t care what she looked like. She’d worn her waist-length hair in the same way for nearly twenty years and was reluctant to change the easy-maintenance hairstyle for a shorter version that might need more than a twice-weekly wash and occasional brush. At some point she’d have to take the plunge and get it restyled but that wasn’t going to be any time soon.
‘Owen, you have no need to worry about me. I don’t have a husband, partner, live-in lover or even cat or budgerigar to worry about. My life is exactly as I want it. Now hurry up and give that good lady a phone and tell her you’re going to get away on time for once. Staying with her parents is all very well but what about you! I don’t want to see you back in the office until tomorrow morning. That’s an order, Detective.’
‘I can see why you might have difficulty in securing a partner, ma’am,’ he said, his deep chuckle softening the impact of his words.
Chapter 25
Marie
Tuesday 12 May, 4 p.m. Llandudno
Marie locked her car before making her way to Mostyn Street and the St Tudno Tearoom, which made the corner with Gloddaeth Avenue. The old-fashioned bell above the door made her smile as did the traditional wooden interior and exciting array of cakes. Despite being here to work she decided to treat herself to coffee and a slice of gateau, something she rarely did. Ivo liked his steak lean and his women leaner. But on this occasion, she decided to ignore his strictures and asked the woman behind the counter for a large cappuccino to go with her large slice of chocolate cake.
The café was emptying, which gave her the excuse she needed to ask the manageress to join her when she had a spare minute.
‘Nikki Jones, what a terrible thing. If there’s anything we can do to help?’
‘Thank you, Mrs Irving.’ Marie smiled at the round-faced woman before raising her mug and taking a tentative sip. ‘Can you tell me a little about her? Even the smallest thing might be of some use.’
‘Well, not really. She hadn’t been with us long. Only a few months and she pretty much kept herself to herself. We’re busy all year round so there’s not much time to chat, you know.’
‘What about friends or anything she talked about relating to what she did when she wasn’t working?’
The woman opposite was nervous. Marie could sense it in the way she frequently looked over her shoulder, scanning the room. It was probably nothing. Feeling nervous around coppers was an occupational hazard but she’d check her up on the system as soon as she left the shop.
‘No. there’s nothing I can add. She was a good worker. You could tell she was educated like, not that she talked much. It was just there, a hint of the person she was underneath the mask she wore at work. I knew no more about her in the end than I did the day I employed her.’
Marie left Mrs Irving to close up the café, her words ringing in her ears. She hadn’t been expecting to learn anything new and she hadn’t been disappointed. Nikki was an enigma as was the location of that blasted knife.
She retraced her steps back to the side of Holy Trinity Church where she’d left her car and was soon settled behind the wheel still thinking about the knife. What she should be thinking of was the dinner party she had to prepare for. The lunchtime text from Ivo, informing her that he’d invited a couple of his colleagues over for supper, was typical. He gave no thought to the work involved and, for once in her life, she’d resorted to the freezer in Sainsbury’s over the fillet of salmon and homemade pavlova he probably expected.
The day, which had started out warm and hopeful, now had a distinct chill in the air and a threat of rain on the horizon with the darkening clouds racing overhead. But Marie had more to concern herself outside of the weather and the state of her marriage. She couldn’t believe that the killer would have bothered to dump the knife in the sea. For a start he could have been seen with all the early dog walkers about and why make a detour when it would be so much easier to dump it in one of the many bins that littered the streets. But she’d walked these self-same streets over and over as had Curtis and his trusty sniffer dog and they’d come up with nothing so what made her think that today would be any different.
Glancing at her watch made her nervous so she didn’t. The rush hour traffic between Llandudno and St Asaph would already be starting to clog the A55 so she was going to be late whatever she did. But instead of worrying about something she couldn’t change she spent the next few minutes trying to put herself in the shoes of the killer. She was convinced that he must have travelled by car and dumped the knife on the way back but that’s as far as her thought processes were prepared to take her. In truth, looking for the knife was worse than looking for a needle in a haystack, the only thing missing was an excess of other knives …
Marie gripped onto the steering wheel, trying to snag onto the new idea fluttering on the doorstep of her mind. So where would the best place be to hide a diving knife other than amongst other diving knives? She knew that Llandudno was a huge aquatic centre with a full range of water sports available from sailing, snorkelling, wind surfing and diving. But just because she didn’t know exactly where these took place didn’t mean that the killer had the same level of ignorance. After that first thought it only took her five minutes to find the information she was looking for. A diving hire shop within a few metres walking distance of the main pubs along the high street. Within an hour she was back on the road to St Asaph, a carefully wrapped knife on the seat beside her and a boot full of defrosting food.
Chapter 26
Gaby
Tuesday 12 May, 6 p.m. St Asaph Police Station
It had been five-to-six when Gaby finally herded Owen out the door of the squad room, his belligerent mutterings still ringing in her ears. She’d nearly had to threaten him with a disciplinary if he didn’t follow orders, the sight of his grey face and bloodshot eyes strengthening her determination to send him home instead of hanging on until they’d caught up with the remaining officers spearheading the search for Tracy.
Slipping off her shoes under her desk, she wriggled her toes, a little sigh escaping at the thought of a long hot shower and bed. But it would be a while yet before she would be able to partake in either. The only respite came in the form of caffeine, the litter of empty mugs on her desk testament to her latest addiction. But if she had any more coffee, she wouldn’t be able to sleep a wink. Instead, she padded over to the water cooler behind the door and poured herself a glass, her gaze gliding to the TV, mounted on the back wall, which she’d tuned into BBC News at Six.
The disappearance of Tracy Price was headline news, the interview with Barry heart-breaking even for an old hand like Gaby. He could barely speak, his bottom lids heavy with unshed tears, his shoulders and head hunched. His whole body screamed defeat. In fact, he was the epitome of what a man in his position should look like. Distraught. Diminished. Defenceless.
Sh
e cast a dispassionate look at him, trying to see underneath the layers of skin, flesh and bone to discover what kind of a man hid beneath but, of course, it was an impossible task. He could be saint or sinner for all she knew. As with anything, the truth lay somewhere in the middle and only time would tell how good an actor he was.
Gaby switched the news off in disgust, placing the remote back on the shelf underneath the TV and returning to her desk, her mind on the description being broadcast into lounges around the country. She only hoped that someone would come forward because, from where she was sitting, it was all starting to look hopeless.
‘Ah, I thought you’d still be here, ma’am.’
The sound of Malachy’s voice had her scrabbling for her shoes and almost bumping her head on the edge of her desk in the process.
‘At last. I thought you two had bunked off for the night leaving me all on my tod,’ she said, throwing a tired smile at the sight of Jax and Malachy strolling into the office as if they didn’t have a care in the world. She looked them over briefly. At their age they probably didn’t.
Of the two, she liked Jax more with his fair hair and easy, happy-go-lucky smile. Malachy was tall, quiet and brooding with ink black hair to match his dark skin. So far there was little between them in either their work ethic or diligence. Their differences were more subtle – her mind drifted back to Malachy’s unsavoury comment about lesbians. She hoped her faith in both of them wasn’t about to be put to the test.
‘Take a seat. I hope you’ve been as successful as Marie. She’s found the knife. Jason, the senior CSI on the case, has volunteered to stay late to process it.’
‘Where was it?’
‘You might well ask, Jax. A diving shop in Llandudno which relies on the good nature of its customers to leave their hire gear in a shed around the back. It wasn’t even locked but it will be now! Right then, what have you got for me?’
‘To cut to the chase, ma’am, I’ve just come from Daffodils Residential Home situated along L-L-Llewelyn Avenue,’ Jax said, the perennial notebook flipped open on his knee. ‘I first spoke to the receptionist and then the manager. Tracy Price has been going along every Monday for the last couple of years. They have a small hairdressing salon, only a small room with a basin and a hairdryer, but it’s a great meeting place for a good old natter. Monday morning was no different. She turned up at nine as usual and there was nothing out of the ordinary with either her manner or mood. She was full of arrangements for the twins’ b-b-birthday, which falls in a couple of weeks.’ He turned the page of his notebook before continuing. ‘The reason it took so long is because I had to hang around for Mrs Glynne, she was out with her daughter. She couldn’t believe that Tracy would up and leave like that, not with their b-b-birthday only around the corner.’
‘No, and that’s the problem,’ Gaby said, her expression grim. ‘Neither can the rest of us. Did she have anything else to say?’
‘Not really. She was under the impression that Tracy was in a rush to be finished on time. She usually hangs around for a cuppa and a chat in the sitting room with the rest of the residents, but yesterday was different. She didn’t say where she was off to, but Mrs Glynne thought she might have had a doctor’s appointment.’
Gaby stared, leaning forward. ‘What am I missing here, Jax? There haven’t been any reports that she’s been unwell, have there?’
‘No, not unwell as such, ma’am,’ he said, his face flushing. ‘You know what little old ladies are like?’
‘Actually no, I don’t. Why not enlighten me?’ she questioned softly, her eyes riveted as the blush spread to the tips of his ears.
‘Well, she did say that she thought she might be … pregnant.’
‘Pregnant? There’s no record of a possible pregnancy from discussions with either her parents or her husband and it is the sort of thing they’d know before some little old lady surely?’ She tried to tighten the reins on her thoughts, which were galloping ahead. If the husband didn’t know, perhaps he wasn’t the father? Hmm …
‘Let’s back up a minute, Jax. Tell me exactly what this Mrs Glynne said.’
She watched him peer down at his notebook and recite, word-for-word. ‘“She reminded me of my eldest, Ellie-Mae. I could tell weeks before, but I never let on. They always like to share the news themselves, you know. It gives them a little boost.”’
Gaby let the air seep through her teeth, almost speaking to herself. ‘So, it’s only conjecture and supposition. The husband and parents might not have known if there was any truth to Mrs Glynne’s guesswork. Sadly it’s a little late to be calling her doctor’s surgery even if we knew who that was.’
‘Actually, I thought I’d check before heading back to the station. I didn’t think you’d mind?’
‘Far from minding, I’m bloody ecstatic but, hurry up, the suspense is killing me,’ she snapped, sending him a quick smile to soften the sting of her words.
‘Dr Hywel Turner, Mayberry Practice. It looks like there’s a Did Not Attend annotation on her records for two o’clock, Monday. I didn’t manage to see him but it’s the first appointment she’s made in months so it’s unlikely he’ll have known what the appointment was for.’
‘Good work, Jax, very good indeed. For this I might see fit to pull you off dog walking duties.’
‘Oh, I don’t mind, really I don’t,’ he said in a rush. ‘It’s something I’m happy to continue with for a couple of d-days,’ he stuttered. ‘It would be a shame to give up too soon, you know …’
She eyed him carefully, taking in the brightening of his cheeks and the way he was now staring rigidly at his shoes. God, it was times like this that she was made to feel very old indeed, her thoughts swinging to the vegetable lasagne and small glass of wine she had planned for later – that is if she even managed to get home. It was one thing to help the likes of Owen achieve the kind of work-life balance she silently craved. Helping young lads out with their love life was something entirely different.
‘So, I take it Miss Watson, her of the highland terrier fame—’
‘Cairn, ma’am.’
She blinked. ‘So, I take it this Miss Watson is a hot blonde with legs up to her armpits?’
‘A petite brunette, ma’am,’ he said with a grin.
‘Whatever. Jax. Do me a favour and at least get her phone number. I might have other duties for you after tomorrow, like helping interview Tracy’s husband. He didn’t mention the possibility of a baby,’ she continued. ‘But that in itself means very little.’ She waved her hand, dismissing him. ‘Okay, thanks for that. Runaway home to Mummy for your tea and remember to be back here sharp for the nine o’clock briefing.’
She didn’t wait to hear his softly muttered thank you, ma’am before turning to Malachy. She examined his stubbly chin, smothering her smile with a cough. If she’d met him down the pub she’d have thought him cute with his wiry black hair and startling brown eyes but she must be getting old because, instead of hunky male, all she could think of was the need to have a quiet word with him about his razor usage. The uniform policy came with two distinct choices. Clean-shaven or bearded. The one thing that wasn’t allowed was designer stubble simply because she couldn’t have her constables looking like something the custodial officer had chucked out of his cells the morning after the night before. A thought hit, causing her to smile. She’d take great delight in passing on the little issue of Mal’s facial hair over to Owen. After all, she was now his boss.
‘Okay, what news do you have for me?’
‘Actually, it’s better than I’d hoped,’ he said, crossing his legs at the ankle. ‘Remember I mentioned the Stevens next door? Well, I managed to catch up with the wife. It was all a bit fraught with kids and dogs running around. Their youngest is the same age as the twins so they’ve seen a fair bit of Tracy and the boys, less so the husband. By all accounts Barry Price kept his distance. But she found Tracy nice and always willing to say a few words when they did see her.’
‘What about r
ows?’
‘They wouldn’t necessarily hear them even if they did happen, ma’am. Built in the Fifties, the houses are quite substantial and detached.’ He ran his hand over his chin, the faint rasp from his bristles filling the air. ‘I have an inkling that things weren’t as rosy in their garden as Barry Price would have us believe though. Mrs Stevens wasn’t specific, but the impression was that Price was out late quite a lot of the time, the implication being he was down the boozer. She also said she thought there were marital problems from something her husband had said, but nothing she was prepared to substantiate with facts.’
‘Mmm.’ Gaby paused in the act of jotting down the bones of the conversation, twisting the pen between her fingers. ‘We may have to do some more digging into the husband’s private life if she doesn’t turn up soon. Good work, Malachy,’ she said, noting his face etched with tiredness. ‘I think we’ll have to invite Barry back to the station for another little chat.’
‘Yes, well. I was hoping for more. Is it all right if I make tracks?’
‘Yes, off you pop. And thank you. It’s more than we’ve had since she went missing, apart from the baby rumour,’ she said, watching him stroll out of the squad room, pulling the door behind him with a sharp click.
She stared down at her notebook, deep in thought. There wasn’t much left for her to do tonight. She was pretty sure she’d done all she could … The search would continue overnight with or without her staying to await updates and, realistically, the best thing she could do right now was to get a good night’s sleep. If there was no news by the morning, she’d haul the husband back in for questioning.
Darkest Night Page 14
