The Kate Fletcher Series

Home > Other > The Kate Fletcher Series > Page 9
The Kate Fletcher Series Page 9

by Heleyne Hammersley


  ‘Have you found anything?’ he asked. ‘About Aleah? Had she drowned?’

  Kate shrugged. ‘Nothing conclusive as yet. I need to catch up with the team and find out what everybody knows.’

  Rigby nodded but still made no move to leave.

  ‘I fancy doing your job,’ he said. ‘CID. I was in the army for a bit and then did security for a cable works near Sheffield but it didn’t suit me. Do you think I’m too old to apply?’

  Kate couldn’t believe his audacity. She’d brought him here for a telling-off about his lack of diligence and here he was asking if she thought he’d make a detective.

  ‘You could always try,’ she said, spinning her chair round until she was facing away from him. This time he took the hint.

  She’d just logged onto her computer when her mobile rang. She glanced at the screen but didn’t recognise the number. A quick flick of her thumb and a voice was asking for ‘Detective Fletcher’.

  ‘Speaking,’ Kate said.

  ‘Hi, you rang somebody at Ballater earlier today, asking about David Porter?’

  Kate confirmed that she had.

  ‘Oh, good,’ the man said, his Scots accent extending the second word. ‘I’m Steve McCready from human resources. I believe that you’d been told that he was working offshore by a family member? Well, he isn’t on the rig this week. I don’t know what you were told but he’s not at sea until next month now.’

  Kate felt her pulse pounding in her forehead. Somebody had lied, but who? Had Dave’s mother lied to her or had Dave been lying to his mother?

  ‘But he does work for your company?’ she asked. ‘And he works offshore for part of the time.’

  ‘That’s correct. He’s on leave at the moment.’

  ‘Have you any idea how I might be able to contact him?’

  A second of silence at the other end of the line.

  ‘You might try his home number. Or his mobile. I’m assuming you have those?’

  ‘I don’t. I spoke to his mother but she didn’t give me any contact details as she seemed convinced that he was on the platform this week.’

  ‘As I said, that information is incorrect.’

  ‘I don’t suppose you have those numbers?’

  A sigh and more silence.

  ‘It is essential that I contact him, Mr McCready. A family member has been involved in an incident and we need to inform Mr Porter as soon as possible.’

  ‘Okay, I’ve got his details on my screen. Have you got a pen?’

  Kate grabbed a chewed biro and wrote down both numbers, checking each one with McCready before he hung up.

  ‘Interesting,’ she mumbled to herself.

  ‘What is?’ asked Hollis. He’d obviously crept up on her while she’d been on the phone.

  ‘That was Ballater Engineering. Dave Porter isn’t on the rig this week.’

  ‘Where is he?’

  Kate frowned and tapped the screen on her phone.

  ‘That’s exactly what I’d like to know.’

  The phone rang at the other end of the line. Twice, three times. Kate tapped a finger on the desk impatiently. After the sixth ring an answering machine kicked in with a generic message. Kate hung up, checked her note and tried the mobile number.

  ‘Hello?’ A woman’s voice.

  ‘Hello,’ Kate said. ‘Is this David Porter’s phone?’

  ‘Who wants to know?’ Her tone turned instantly suspicious. Kate introduced herself and explained that she needed to speak to David Porter as a matter of urgency. The phone at the other end was dropped with a clunk and Kate waited, twisting in her chair and raising her eyebrows quizzically at Hollis.

  ‘Dave Porter speaking. What’s this about?’

  Kate turned back to her desk and repeated her name and rank while she considered her options. She hadn’t been confident that she’d be able to speak to Porter and, now that she’d found him, there was no way that she could avoid telling him about the death of his daughter. But she hated to do it over the phone.

  ‘Mr Porter,’ she began. ‘I’m ringing with some bad news. Your daughter has been involved in an incident.’

  ‘Incident?’ he repeated.

  ‘She was reported missing on Tuesday. Our initial search failed to turn up any evidence as to her whereabouts. Yesterday morning she was found in a pond on an area of disused land. I’m sorry Mr Porter, I’m afraid Aleah’s dead.’

  Silence.

  Kate waited, allowing him time to process what she’d just said.

  ‘Are you sure?’ he asked eventually. ‘Are you sure it’s Aleah?’

  ‘I’m afraid so. We’ve had a positive ID.’

  ‘How?’ he cleared his throat. ‘How did it happen?’

  ‘I can’t say at the moment,’ Kate said. ‘We’re still trying to track Aleah’s last movements to try to find out what happened. I’d like to send a police officer to talk to you if that’s possible. Somebody local. Are you at home?’

  ‘No. No, I’m… oh shit. I can’t get my head round this. I never had much to do with Aleah but she was mine, you know, flesh and blood. I thought, maybe when she got older that she might…’ his voice tailed off.

  ‘Mr Porter. Are you at home?’ Kate prompted.

  A sigh. ‘Have you spoken to my mam? Does she know?’

  ‘About Aleah? Yes. We spoke this morning. She thought you were offshore this week.’

  ‘That’s what I told her,’ he sighed. I didn’t want her to know where I am.’

  ‘Which is where?’

  ‘I’m in Sheffield. If I’d told her she’d have wanted me to go home and visit. I lied. I’ve been seeing somebody and I wanted to spend some time with her. She’s got a house near Endcliffe Park.’

  ‘I’ll need an address,’ Kate said. ‘I’d like to come and talk to you myself.’

  Kate noted down the address he gave and told him to expect her within the hour.

  ‘Shit,’ she breathed. ‘This changes things.’

  ‘What?’ Hollis asked. ‘Where is he?’

  ‘He’s been in Sheffield for the last few days. It’s only half an hour from Thorpe. We need to get over there. Now.’

  2015

  The sky over Endcliffe Park was bruised-looking with heavy thunderclouds as Hollis followed his satnav and turned onto the street that Dave Porter had named. It was lined with terraced houses but these were very different from the ones where Porter’s mother lived. Each was set back slightly from the street with low brick walls demarcating property boundaries. Some even sheltered patches of grass or clumps of shrubs – obvious attempts at a front garden – beneath generous bay windows. The houses themselves were bigger than the ones in Thorpe and many had been extended further with the addition of Velux roof lights or dormer windows indicating the addition of attic rooms.

  ‘Here,’ Kate said, pointing to a gap in the parked cars which lined both sides of the street. ‘We can walk from here. Looks like parking’s a bugger.’

  She reached for the door handle but Hollis spoke before she could get out.

  ‘Are you okay? You’ve hardly said two words since we got off the Parkway. You look like you’re miles away.’

  Kate shrugged.

  ‘Just thinking about Aleah. It’s a bit of a coincidence that her dad happens to be having a secret liaison in Sheffield on the day she disappeared.’

  Hollis nodded, accepting her response and Kate tried hard to stifle a sigh of relief. How could she tell him that she’d been dreading coming to Sheffield? Since they’d driven up through the city and she’d caught a glimpse of the university buildings she’d been reliving her last conversation with Ben, the one where he’d told her that he’d rather rely on his dad for support when he went to university. That had been nearly a year ago. She’d called to see whether he needed anything and to let him know that she was living in Doncaster and, while he’d been polite, he’d made his lack of interest clear and had refused to accept her offer of financial assistance. They’d exchanged texts a fe
w times since but her son gave away very little about his new life as a student and it was only through Garry that she knew that he’d chosen to study environmental science.

  They hadn’t been close since her split with his father and, even though Kate knew that it made sense for Ben to stay with Garry so he could finish his A-levels without moving schools, she hadn’t expected to become so out of touch with her son’s life so quickly.

  ‘Come on, let’s see what Porter has to say,’ she said, opening the car door and allowing a blast of heat to enter.

  The address Porter had given was a few doors away from where they’d parked. As she approached the front door, Kate noticed a handwritten sign fixed to the glass on the inside.

  PLEASE USE BACK DOOR

  She glanced down the alleyway which led between the house and its neighbour. Darkness.

  ‘After you,’ she said to Hollis, following as he led the way to a tall gate blocking the garden end of the passageway.

  The back door opened before Hollis had even raised his fist to knock and an attractive blonde woman smiled at them. She wore no make-up and her shabby clothes looked like she’d been gardening in them, but her high cheek bones and confident gaze were a striking combination.

  ‘Hi,’ she said. ‘Are you the police? Dave’s in the front room.’

  She opened the door further and ushered Kate and Hollis inside. The back room was a kitchen, modern and bright with a series of black-and-white photographs dotting the walls which weren’t occupied by cupboards. The woman saw Kate looking at the images and said, ‘I’m a photographer. I do seascapes mostly. That’s how I met Dave. I… er. I’m sorry. I’m Sara Evans. I should have introduced myself.’

  She led them through to the living room and then quietly backed away and closed the door, allowing them some privacy while they talked to Dave Porter. The room was calming; pale walls, ornate fire surround and discreet electrical equipment. One alcove next to the chimney breast was shelved from top to bottom and completely lined with books, the other housed a flat-screen television. Like the kitchen, the walls in here were adorned with examples of Sara’s work, including a huge print of Whitby Abbey which Kate coveted immediately.

  Dave Porter was sitting in an armchair facing the front window and didn’t acknowledge them until he heard the door close behind his girlfriend.

  ‘Mr Porter?’ Kate said, quietly. The man seemed to be in some sort of trance, just staring into space. Then he blinked and shook his head as if to shake himself awake. He stood up and extended a hand.

  ‘Yes, sorry. I’ve been feeling a bit out of it since you rang.’

  He shook hands with Hollis and Kate and gestured to the leather sofa which ran along one wall of the room. They sat and Kate leaned forwards, elbows on knees as she studied the man opposite. He was well built, muscular rather than fat and, even slumped in the chair, he seemed to dominate the room. His blonde hair stood up in spikes and tufts as though he’d been running his hands through it and the skin around his eyes was red and puffy. He was obviously upset about the death of his daughter.

  ‘The thing is,’ he continued. ‘I don’t really know how to feel. It’s not as if I had much to do with Aleah. Well, nothing really. But she was my flesh and blood and that means something, doesn’t it?’

  He glanced up at Kate as though he expected her to understand.

  ‘Mr Porter. I’m so sorry for your loss but I need to establish your whereabouts for the past forty-eight hours. We believed that you were working offshore but that’s obviously not the case.’

  Porter’s eyes narrowed.

  ‘You think I had something to do with this? You think I killed my own daughter?’

  ‘That’s not what DI Fletcher is saying,’ Hollis stepped in. ‘It’s routine, sir. You must understand that. We have to ask certain questions.’

  A nod from Porter. He seemed to be responding well to Hollis, so Kate sat back and allowed him to take the lead.

  ‘Your mother told us that you were at sea this week,’ he repeated. ‘Obviously, we don’t know why you told her that, but I’m sure you had your reasons. We just need to establish where you’ve been for the last couple of days.’

  ‘Here,’ Porter said, sitting back in his chair. ‘I’ve been here with Sara. I didn’t tell my mam because she would have expected a visit and I promised that I’d spend this week with Sara.’

  ‘And Sara is…?’

  ‘My girlfriend,’ he smiled as though the word still felt unfamiliar but pleasant. ‘We’ve been seeing each for about six months. We met on the coast outside Aberdeen. I was out for a walk and she was photographing the sea. I fell for her, literally. Her legs were across the path and I tripped over her.’

  Hollis made a note.

  ‘And when did you arrange this visit?’

  ‘A few weeks ago. She’s stayed with me a few times and so we decided it was my turn to visit her.’

  ‘Does she know about your connections with the area?’

  ‘Hard to hide them with this accent,’ Porter said. ‘She picked up the South Yorkshire twang as soon as we met. She’s an Essex girl but she stayed here after uni. I thought it was a strange place to live if you like the sea but Sara says that she can get to pretty much any part of the coast in less than a day from here. It’s very central.’ Kate could see that he was lost in memories of his girlfriend and the interview was losing focus.

  ‘Tell us about this trip.’ Kate prompted.

  Porter looked at her as though he’d just remembered that he had company.

  ‘Sara wanted to show me her home. It’s years since I spent any time in Sheffield so I wanted to have a look round, to see what’s changed. I couldn’t tell my mam though. She’d have wanted to see me and this trip wasn’t about family. It was about me and Sara.’

  ‘What did you do on Tuesday?’ Hollis asked.

  ‘Not much. Got up late. Went to the café in the park for breakfast. Walked up to Forge Dam and had a coffee. Walked back. Then, that night, we went out for dinner to an Indian restaurant just up the road.’

  ‘Can anybody vouch for this, other than Sara?’

  ‘I dunno.’ Porter shrugged. ‘The woman who served us breakfast knows Sara. She’d probably remember. And Sara took some pictures of me eating on her phone, you can probably tell where I am.’

  ‘You didn’t take Sara to Thorpe?’

  Porter shook his head. ‘I’ve not been back in months. I went for my mam’s birthday in February but not since then.’

  ‘Does Sara know about Aleah? Have you told her that you have a daughter?’

  ‘I told her a few weeks ago. It felt funny, saying it out loud. I always knew that she was mine but I never really felt a connection with her. Now she’s gone, though… I just always wondered if she might want to get to know me, when she was older.’ He rubbed his face with his hands trying to control his emotions. Kate could see that he was struggling.

  ‘I think we’ll need to see those photographs,’ she said. ‘The ones on Sara’s phone.’

  Porter nodded and called for his girlfriend. She pushed open the door a minute later and Kate imagined her listening at the other side and then counting off the seconds before she made an appearance. Was her evidence going to be worth anything? It was obvious from the way she looked at Dave Porter that she had fallen for him.

  ‘Hi Sara,’ Kate said, trying for her most reassuring smile. ‘We just need to ask you a couple of questions about Tuesday. Can you run through your day for us?’

  Sara glanced at her boyfriend and then back at Kate.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Just tell us what you did. What time you got up, that sort of thing.’

  She nodded uncertainly.

  ‘Well, we got up late.’ Another glance at Porter confirmed in Kate’s mind the reason why they had difficulty getting out of bed. New love. She couldn’t help but feel a bit envious, and a bit sorry for them. It didn’t last, that feeling.

  ‘Then we went across to
the park for breakfast. The café there does a really good full English.’

  ‘What time would this have been?’ Hollis wanted to know, pen poised above his notebook.

  Sara shrugged. ‘Eleven? Half past?’

  ‘And did you see anybody that you knew? Somebody who could confirm where you were?’

  She nodded.

  ‘The woman who served us, Sally, owns the café. She knows me. I’m not sure she’ll remember what time it was though.’

  ‘You took some photographs of Mr Porter eating breakfast?’

  ‘Yes! They’ll have the time on.’

  She dug in the front pocket of her tight-fitting jeans and pulled out her mobile phone. A few flicks and she turned the screen round so that Kate could see it.

  ‘Flick forward from there. If you tap the screen, the date and time come up.’

  Kate thumbed through the pictures. The first showed Porter sitting at an outside table with a huge breakfast in front of him. He was pretending to frown in concentration as he held his knife and fork, ready to tuck in. A quick tap revealed that the photograph was taken at 11.24 am. The others formed a short photo journal of the meal. Some were close-ups of Dave Porter’s face, others showed the plate with the contents slowly disappearing. Even though they were quick snaps they demonstrated a keen eye for composition and framing and a clear sense of humour. Kate found herself warming to Sara through her work.

  The last image was of Dave holding an empty plate in one hand, the other raised in a victorious fist. The time stamp was 11.37am. They’d need to check with the café owner but it looked like Dave Porter had nothing to do with the abduction and murder of his daughter.

  Kate couldn’t decide whether she was pleased or disappointed.

  ‘Well, that didn’t get us any further,’ Hollis said as Kate slammed the car door and he turned on the engine. ‘I hoped, in a way, that he’d be a lot shiftier but he seemed like a genuine bloke. Another dead end.’

  ‘We still need to check at the café. Fancy an ice cream? I’m buying.’

  Ten minutes later they were perched at a plastic table outside the park café, Hollis with double chocolate ice cream and Kate with salted caramel. The proprietor, Sally, had told them to wait outside while she served a big family group and Kate had been happy to follow her instruction. The café overlooked a huge grassy area which had been taken over by groups of people of all ages. There was what looked to be a football team for five-year-olds at the far side, a group of young men playing Frisbee and a number of families either picnicking or throwing something around. The mood was relaxed despite the threat of rain from the darkening clouds.

 

‹ Prev