Sam scrawled something in her notepad and stood up to leave.
‘Hang on. Did you find another bank account for Melissa?’
‘Nope. There’s just the ISA – about seven grand – and there’s her joint account with Ryan.’
Kate turned to O’Connor. ‘Steve, did you find out anything about the Buckleys having any dodgy loans?’
O’Connor scowled. ‘Nope. Tried a few people but nobody had heard of the Buckleys. I was out last night again talking to some of the girls around Town Field. Still haven’t found anybody who saw anything on Saturday night. There’s not as many girls out at the minute though. Like I said, I think there’s somebody new on the scene and it’s like they’re all a bit wary.’
Kate filed the information away in her mind. A new pimp or a dodgy punter could change the dynamic of a tight group of working girls – she’d seen it before – and it might be worth pursuing, although she didn’t think that Melissa Buckley had been mistaken for a prostitute in broad daylight on a Saturday morning. She’d get O’Connor to sniff around when he got a chance.
‘Right. Jobs. Hollis, with me to the DRI. I’ve got two lists of people the Buckleys saw at the hospital; one from Ryan and one from a Mr Beresford who runs the fertility clinic. They don’t quite match up but between us we should manage to cover both. Go and find us a car.’
Hollis left followed by Cooper. Barratt and O’Connor hovered around the desk awaiting instructions.
‘You two go back to the list of friends and colleagues. I want formal statements from all Melissa’s friends and I want to know who she was close to at work. Find out who she confided in, who she’d fallen out with, who secretly fancied her. Whoever killed her is probably already on a list of contacts somewhere – we just need to figure out who he is.’
‘Or she,’ said O’Connor with a grin. ‘Don’t forget she. It’s important to be inclusive in these PC times.’
Kate waved her hands at them both, shooing them from the room.
Raymond was still standing next to the door, his expression unreadable.
‘Was there something else?’ Kate asked.
‘Have a seat for a bit. Let’s have a chat, Kate.’
Alarm bells ringing full force in her head, Kate pulled out a chair halfway up the table and sat down, watching as Raymond sat down opposite her. There was something off about his manner – and he hardly ever called her by her first name. He’d been different for a few weeks – quieter and more reflective. Whenever he’d called her into his office she’d been surprised that his customary belligerence had been toned down and his manner towards her had recently bordered on the paternalistic.
‘You might have noticed a few changes,’ he began. ‘I’ve seen how people are looking at me. Different haircut, lose a bit of weight, smarten up your clothes and suddenly people think there’s something wrong. Well there is and there isn’t and I thought you ought to know.’
He took a deep breath and tried a smile that didn’t seem to fit his mouth very comfortably.
‘You remember I had a few days off last month?’
Kate nodded warily, imagining a range of unpleasant scenarios.
‘I had a bit of a scare. A minor cardiac event. Not a heart attack but close enough. Diana was terrified and she gathered the kids together like they were expecting me to conk out but the doctor said it was most likely exacerbated by stress.’
It had been unusual for the DCI to have time off. Kate had assumed it was either a short, and much needed, holiday or some personal time. She’d had no idea that he’d been ill.
‘So,’ Raymond continued. ‘I’ve started to lose a bit of weight. Had to buy some new suits. Thought I might as well get a decent haircut as well. Diana likes it shorter. She says I look ten years younger. I feel about fifty years older but I can’t tell her that.’
He was rambling and Kate got the sense that he was going all round the houses to avoid revealing the real point of the conversation.
‘Sir, I…’
He held up one of his huge, bear-paw hands to prevent her from interrupting.
‘Kate. I’ve put in for early retirement. I’m leaving in a few months. This job’s had the best of me and I feel like I owe it to Diana to give her whatever’s left. I thought you should hear it from me rather than on the office jungle drums. And I’m feeling a bit nostalgic, like an old fool, so that’s why you might find me taking a more active role in this investigation. I don’t want to step on your toes, I just want to be involved, on the ground, one last time.’ He paused, his eyes flicking from left to right as though he was checking a script that he’d memorised. ‘If you feel like I’m getting in the way I want you to tell me. This is your case, work it your way but I’d like to be included whenever it might be practical for both of us. Okay?’
‘Okay,’ Kate said, trying to make sense of what he’d just told her. Heart attack. Retirement. Involvement. It was a lot to take in. ‘I’ll do my best to make sure you’re part of it.’
Raymond smiled gratefully.
‘And, sir? It can’t have been an easy decision. Your wife is a lucky woman to have somebody who would give up all this.’ She pointed to the photograph of Melissa Buckley that was still displayed on the screen.
His smile broadened into a grin.
‘Lucky? She’s bloody frightening, Fletcher. Frightening and very persuasive.’
Chapter 12
Her head still reeling from Raymond’s revelation, Kate slipped into the passenger seat of the pool car.
‘Everything okay?’ Hollis asked. ‘You look a bit off. Raymond have a go?’
‘No, nothing like that. Just trying to keep a lot of information in my head. This case is getting on top of me a bit. I can’t believe we’re no closer to finding out who killed Melissa. We don’t even have one viable suspect.’
Hollis put the car in gear and eased out of the parking space. ‘That’s what today’s about isn’t it? We’ve refocussed. There’s somebody on our list of names who knows something. There must be. We all agree this isn’t random so all we need to do is find the link between Melissa and her killer.’
‘Ah,’ Kate said. ‘That’s all. I don’t know what’s taking so long then if it’s that easy.’
She could tell from the fixed way Hollis was studying the traffic, and his careful movements when he changed gear, that she’d offended him. He’d only been trying to lighten the mood, to instil a flicker of hope and she’d snapped his head off. ‘Hey, I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I shouldn’t let it get to me like this.’
Hollis continued to stare through the windscreen.
‘How’s things with you? Have you found out anything else from your… mother… your birth mother?’ She stumbled over the question unsure about which term to use for the woman who was making her DC’s life a misery. He’d turned up to work looking hungover again and his contributions to the briefing hadn’t exactly been stellar.
‘I met her sister last night. Thought she might be able to give me a bit more information.’
‘And?’
‘And it’s just made things worse. It seems that my mother had a lot of male attention from around the age of fourteen. Started early apparently. Michelle hinted at all sorts of issues with their dad which I don’t want to even think about. There were a few lads her own age and a couple of older men when she turned sixteen. At least she was legal when she got pregnant with me.’
‘Older men?’ Kate asked. ‘How old?’
Hollis indicated again and pulled them into the main DRI car park. ‘One was a soldier who lived on the same street,’ he said, slowing down and scanning for an empty space. ‘The other was a police officer.’
‘You’re in the wrong place,’ Kate said. ‘Sorry, I should have told you. Go round the side – there’s another place to park, nearer the clinic.’
Hollis huffed in frustration and leaned his arm across the back of her seat as he reversed.
‘So the sister remembers a police officer. That sugg
ests your mother isn’t lying.’
‘It gets worse.’
Kate stayed silent waiting for him to explain.
‘She said that his name was Benny or Bobby or Billy. She claimed that she couldn’t remember.’
Kate knew that DCI Raymond’s name was William and she’d heard him referred to as Bill on a number of occasions. Never Billy though, but people often chose different versions of their name as they matured. She’d been Cathy until she was nearly seventeen. Now she hated it and always snapped her sister’s head off if Karen accidentally called her anything but Kate.
‘Do you think it’s him?’
Hollis shook his head. ‘I honestly don’t know what to think. I just wish that she’d stayed away. I don’t need her in my life and I don’t want all this uncertainty. What difference will it actually make if Raymond is my biological father? It’s not like I’m a kid. Why would he even be interested?’
‘I thought you wanted to know. You said that’s what she’s holding over you. At least you’d have that certainty. And you could do a lot worse.’
‘Is this it?’ Hollis asked, ignoring her final statement as he pulled into the clinic’s parking area. ‘Interesting old building.’
Kate got the message. Hollis could only talk about the issues with his mother in very small bursts. She understood that. Anything else would have been too much for him to deal with and she had to respect his right to privacy.
‘Looks like an old mansion, or The Addams Family house. A bit creepy for a medical building. Christ, it could be the morgue.’
‘Well, it’s not. But wait until you meet the crypt keeper.’
A light shower had them running across the car park to the shelter of the building’s porch where Kate almost slipped on the polished surface of the red tiles. Hollis grabbed her arm, holding her steady as she regained her balance and she was reminded of his role in her team. He was often the voice of reason, the solid reliable one when the others were throwing out all sorts of outlandish theories and ideas. He was dependable. She’d trust him with her life just as she had once trusted him with that of her son, Ben. If he was the one struggling, she owed it to him to be there, to pay attention and to help in any way that she could.
‘Thanks,’ she mumbled, pulling her arm free of his hand. ‘Nearly made a right tit of myself.’
He smiled at her and, just like that, they slipped back into their roles, the conversation in the car forgotten – for now.
* * *
A different receptionist from the one Kate had met before greeted them from behind her desk. This one was tall and slim with closely cropped dark hair and a less than welcoming expression. Kate had phoned ahead before leaving Doncaster Central just to be sure that Beresford had organised access to his staff as she’d requested. He’d answered in the affirmative but hadn’t sounded pleased about it and he’d obviously passed on his lack of enthusiasm to the receptionist.
‘Can I help you?’ the woman asked, her tone more pleasant than the faint scowl that hovered around her eyebrows. She’d obviously realised that they weren’t clients.
Kate showed her ID and asked for Beresford.
‘Is he expecting you?’
‘He is,’ Kate confirmed, thinking he’d better be. The woman picked up the telephone receiver, pushed a key and turned her back on Kate and Hollis making it impossible for them to hear her murmured comments. Shaking her head at the receptionist’s obvious attempt to signal her distaste for their presence, Kate tapped Hollis on his arm and indicated the chairs where she’d waited before. She wasn’t going to be kept standing around until Beresford deigned to grace them with his presence.
Hollis took a seat opposite her and removed a crumpled sheet of A4 paper from the breast pocket of his suit jacket. He unfolded it and read aloud.
‘We’re looking for Janice Hoult, nurse physician who would have harvested Melissa’s eggs, Tim Matthias the therapist and Pauline Dorries who was responsible for Ryan’s sample.’ Kate noticed that Hollis blushed slightly as he said ‘sample’ rather than sperm. Obviously he was one of those men who felt uncomfortable discussing the workings of their reproductive system. If he’d managed to lighten up a little on the way back to Doncaster Central she’d make sure to tease him about it.
‘I think that should cover it for today,’ she said. ‘I spoke to Beresford at length yesterday and he was reluctant to co-operate at first but when I threatened to turn Sam loose on his computer system he finally gave me the information I needed. I’ve got addresses for the three we’re seeing this morning, plus Beresford. Dorries and Matthias live near Town Field but that doesn’t help us as we know that Melissa’s body was kept somewhere else. We have no idea where she went after parking her car.’
‘What about the technical side?’ Hollis asked. ‘There must be lab technicians who do all the science stuff.’
‘On another list,’ Kate said. ‘Barratt did some preliminary work at the main hospital. This one is all the people who would have had face-to-face dealings with the Buckleys. Beresford said that they like to keep the contact as personal as possible so the team who dealt with Ryan and Melissa is quite small. We’ll talk to the technicians after these interviews.’
‘Receptionists?’
‘Good thinking,’ Kate said. ‘There are at least two and they would have been the first people the Buckleys met when they arrived here. I just hope they got a better welcome than we did.’
Kate strolled over to the reception desk and leaned casually on the polished wood. ‘I’m sure you know why we’re here,’ she said to the receptionist, her tone carefully conversational.
The woman nodded, lips tightly pinched together. She couldn’t quite hold Kate’s stare, her eyes skipping away to the left and then refocussing as though she thought that her inability to look at Kate would indicate guilt. Kate had seen this many times before – it was nerves. A lot of people, regardless of their innocence, when faced with the prospect of speaking to the police almost instinctively felt, and consequently acted as if, they were guilty.
‘You’d have met the Buckleys?’
Another nod.
‘Many times?’
‘A few. I job share with Amy. We both end up meeting all the clients at some point.’
‘Do you remember Melissa and Ryan Buckley?’
‘I do. Nice couple. He was a mechanic – I remember him sometimes coming in straight from work in his overalls. I think she worked on the trains. They’d have been coming here for about a year I think – maybe a bit longer.’
‘And did you form an impression of them, as a couple?’
‘Nice enough, I suppose. I don’t have much to do with the clients beyond greeting them and telling them to go through to their appointments.’
Her expression had relaxed and she sat back slightly in her chair, obviously on comfortable ground now.
‘So they didn’t stand out in any way?’
The woman’s eyes lost focus and shifted from side to side as though she was trying to remember something but then she shrugged and looked back at Kate.
‘I remember feeling a bit sorry for them. They were a bit younger than most of our clients, in their twenties, and they’d obviously been struggling with their issues for a long time. I think they’d probably used up all their options in terms of NHS care. Shame really. If it was up to me I wouldn’t limit it to three goes – it’s cruel. I think, if you’re desperate for a baby then the system should—’
‘DI Fletcher,’ the door to the hallway had opened and Edward Beresford beamed at her, interrupting the flow of the young woman behind the reception desk. ‘I hope Kellie has been co-operating with your enquiry.’
He winked at the woman who flushed and immediately found something interesting on her computer screen.
‘She has,’ Kate confirmed, irritated that the man’s presence had interrupted her conversation with the receptionist. ‘Just getting an impression of what brings people to your facility.’
Hollis
jumped up and strode over to them.
‘My colleague,’ Kate said. ‘DC Hollis. He’ll be assisting me when I interview your staff. I hope that’s not a problem.’
Beresford looked Hollis up and down, almost as if he were assessing whether he could beat the younger man in a fight, before shaking his hand. Kate wondered which one would have the tightest grip. She wasn’t surprised to see Beresford pull away first.
‘Not at all. I assume then that you won’t mind if I sit in on the interviews?’
Kate had expected this. During their previous encounter she’d formed the impression that Beresford was a man who liked to be in control and the receptionist’s reaction had confirmed this. He wouldn’t like the idea that his staff were discussing the clinic without him being able to vet their comments, or at least be present so that he could clarify or explain anything negative that might be said.
‘That won’t be possible,’ Kate said brusquely. ‘If any of your staff feel the need for support they are within their rights to ask for legal representation, otherwise what they tell us is confidential.’
‘But I—’
‘Mr Beresford,’ Hollis said. ‘My role is as recorder. These are not formal interviews so I’ll just be making notes rather than a tape recording. If it’s not possible for us to conduct these interviews in a private room without interruption then we will gladly arrange for your staff to come to Doncaster Central and be interviewed there, potentially under caution. I know which I would prefer but I’m happy to give them that choice if that’s what you want.’
Kate studied the two men as they held position, neither willing to give any ground. Hollis was taller but his slim frame seemed willowy next to Beresford’s muscular physique; Kate had no idea which man she’d bet on in a wrestling match but she’d back Hollis every time in an argument about appropriate police protocol.
Beresford gave him a broad grin and held his hands out, palms up, in submission. ‘I only want what’s best for my staff,’ he said.
Bad Seed: DI Kate Fletcher Book 3 Page 10
