The Birthday: An absolutely gripping crime thriller (Detective Natalie Ward Book 1)

by Carol Wyer

  ‘We’re not allowed to release any information over the phone; after all, we’re dealing with minors. We have to be careful who we talk to,’ said the young woman.

  Natalie passed the time reading the glossy brochure for the academy that not only offered a range of exciting courses but boasted several success stories, now renowned names in film and theatre.

  Her concentration was broken by the arrival of Carlton Kennedy, whose dark, wavy hair created an impression of a man in his thirties rather than forties, and whose outfit of pale-yellow shirt, dark jeans and deck shoes with no socks was distinctly continental, as was his light French accent. He stood erect with shoulders back and chin up, and oozed confidence even though the top of his head only reached Natalie’s chin. He extended a slim hand.

  ‘DI Ward, would you like to come to the office? Bruce is already there.’

  He tripped lightly to a hallway that opened out into a wide, empty studio with floor to ceiling mirrors on three sides. The place was eerily quiet and her footsteps rang across the wooden floor. ‘Haven’t you any classes to teach?’

  ‘Most of the classes and courses are run at weekends, during holidays and after school. We let out the top floor to individuals wishing to hold adult dance classes, but we don’t have anything to do with the running of those.’

  He stopped by a door marked Private, resting his hand on the door handle, and swallowed hard. ‘I’m truly sorry about Audrey. She was such a sweetie. She’s been coming here since she was five and she was such a pleasure to teach. It’s been a huge shock to learn what’s happened. It’s like losing one of a special little family.’ He squared his shoulders and opened the door. ‘Come in,’ he said.

  Bruce, working at one of the two desks placed back-to-back in the centre of the room, was bent over some figures. He lifted his head, his pale-blue eyes flicking over Natalie, weighing her up, before sitting back in his seat and folding his arms. They were opposites: stocky Bruce, sandy-haired with neatly trimmed facial hair that barely disguised his full cheeks, and Carlton, hair coiffed in a wave above an expressive face.

  Carlton pulled a chair over for Natalie. ‘Please sit down,’ he said, dropping nimbly onto his own chair and looking at her with dark, anxious eyes. ‘Such a terrible thing to happen.’

  ‘I understand Audrey was at one of your classes yesterday afternoon.’

  ‘She was, but I don’t see what bearing that has on her death,’ said Bruce, picking up a pen and studying it. ‘She didn’t disappear from our school. Her mother collected her from here.’ He turned his cool gaze onto Natalie.

  ‘That is absolutely correct but in these situations, we like to interview everyone connected to the victim. It helps us gain a fuller picture as to what might have taken place.’

  ‘I really don’t see how.’

  ‘Bruce,’ hissed Carlton. ‘That’s enough. Excuse him. He’s very upset about what has happened. We all are. Poor little Audrey.’

  ‘Was she a good dancer?’

  ‘Very promising,’ said Carlton, his full lips turning down. ‘And she was serious about dancing. Many children come for a few lessons and then give up, or show no ability whatsoever, but Audrey was enthusiastic from the first time she came. She took part in quite a few of our academy performances.’

  ‘Were there many in the class?’

  ‘Only five in that particular class. It’s what we call level four, so only those who have been through our grade system are able to take part in it.’

  ‘Did you take the class, Carlton?’

  ‘I take all the ballet classes.’

  ‘And you, Bruce? Are you a ballet dancer too?’

  ‘I mostly work on the admin side.’

  ‘His background is musicals. He provides classes for the older children – works through routines with them. He’s very accomplished,’ said Carlton, giving his husband a smile.

  ‘What did you do with the children yesterday?’ Natalie asked, mindful that whatever they’d done had made Audrey thirsty.

  ‘We started with stretching on the floor, then pliés and went on to work across the floor work: chassés, sautés, passés and grands jetés. We did a lot of those jumps. They love them. So much energy. We then tried a simple combination from the “Sugar Plum Fairy”.’

  ‘That’s quite demanding.’

  ‘Demanding no, tiring yes.’

  ‘Did the children change from their school uniforms here?’

  ‘Yes, we have changing rooms beside the studio.’

  ‘And what was Audrey wearing?’

  ‘Same as all the girls: black leotard, pink tights and pink ballet pumps.’

  ‘Do the girls wear make-up, maybe lipstick, during lessons?’

  Carlton’s eyebrows lifted. ‘Not at this age. Unless it is for a performance.’

  ‘Was Audrey wearing any lipstick?’

  He shook his head. ‘I don’t think she was. Bruce, was she?’

  ‘You saw her too?’

  ‘In reception. I was there when the class ended. I saw her leave with her mother. I wouldn’t know if she was or wasn’t wearing any lipstick.’

  ‘What about the other girls? Were any of them wearing lipstick?’

  ‘Again, I wouldn’t know,’ said Bruce.

  ‘Would you give me their names and contact details so I can speak to them?’

  ‘I’ll arrange that,’ said Bruce. ‘You finished with me? I have some work to get on with.’

  ‘Actually, I have another question. Ava Sawyer used to come here, didn’t she? She was in the same class as Audrey.’

  Bruce put down his pen and pushed away from his desk with both hands before standing up. ‘Look, I really don’t have much to do with the ballet classes. You’re best off talking to Carlton about this. I have to attend an important meeting in Samford to sort out the programme of events for the festival next month. I must leave or I’ll be late.’

  Carlton’s eyebrows shot upwards. ‘Of course. I’d forgotten about that. You get off. I can talk to DI Ward.’

  ‘I’ll make sure those contact details are in reception for you when you leave,’ he said, picking up the jacket on the back of the chair.

  As soon as he’d left, Carlton shook his head. ‘He was really sad when Ava disappeared.’

  ‘But he didn’t teach her.’

  ‘No, but he often talked to her. She was a funny little thing. She really wanted to be the best in the ballet class but she wasn’t cut out for it. Sometimes, she’d walk out of class if it was going wrong and she couldn’t keep up, and sit downstairs in reception. Bruce was invariably on duty and would keep her company. They got on. I think he liked the rebel in her. She was only five but she knew her own mind, that one. Reminded him of his little sister.’

  ‘Were Audrey and Ava close?’

  He lifted his shoulders high and pouted. ‘You mean sticking together like glue, best friends? No, not really close. Sometimes Ava would get a little jealous of Audrey and give her such a look it almost made me want to laugh. She would do this.’ He pulled a sulky face. ‘I find such things amusing.’

  ‘When was the last time you saw Ava?’

  ‘The day before she disappeared. She wasn’t herself that day. She made no effort in class and was distracted. In the end, she asked to sit in reception. I said she could. The door only opens from the inside if someone on reception presses a buzzer to release it, so I knew she would be safe there; and besides, Bruce was there.

  ‘When we learned about her disappearance, we headed straight over to Uptown Craft Centre and joined the search parties. Bruce was especially upset, partly because he liked Ava, but also because he’d stopped off at the centre that same afternoon to collect a plant for his mother’s birthday.’

  ‘Did he come forward when the police were asking for witnesses?’

  ‘There was no need. He was there before the party started. He didn’t see Ava or any of the children.’

  ‘What time was he there?’

  ‘About two thi
rty. He left soon afterwards and headed into town to buy a birthday card.’

  Natalie pushed her business card across to Carlton. ‘I know he doesn’t want to talk, but please ask him to. I’d really like to hear what he and Ava chatted about. Will you get him to ring me?’

  ‘I’ll try. He can be quite stubborn some days.’

  ‘Try hard. I’m investigating a child’s murder, and if he doesn’t willingly talk to me, I’ll be forced to make him come to the station. I want to speak to him today. As soon as he finishes his meeting.’

  Thirteen

  THURSDAY, 27 APRIL – MORNING

  While Natalie was talking to Caroline and Stephen Briggs, back in the office, Lucy was doing her best to track down the yellow dress with no luck. The frustration was mounting and she hated it when she couldn’t come up trumps. She raked her hands through her hair. With Murray out of the office, Ian had been working quietly. It was better when they weren’t bickering. Not that it bothered her; she was well used to such behaviour. She’d spent much of her younger life fielding jibes and taunts, and learning to make quick retorts. It was just more productive when everyone was concentrating on work rather than settling scores. Ian had seemed more relaxed and offered a smile of encouragement as he departed to interview several vehicle owners, leaving her alone in the office.

  She’d not been able to get hold of Beatrice Sawyer but had made an appointment to talk to Ava’s form teacher, Miss Margaret Goffrey, during school break at 11 a.m. Ignoring the page of yellow dresses on her computer screen, she scribbled a few questions in her notebook for the teacher. She wanted to do this right. Natalie was relying on her.

  Lucy admired Natalie. She’d liked her from the off when she’d first stood in front of them and introduced herself as their new DI. Murray would no doubt tell her it was some stupid girl crush she was experiencing, but it wasn’t; after all, Bethany was now in Lucy’s life. Natalie was everything Lucy wanted to become: a no-nonsense detective, committed to her job, but who also managed to remain human. She’d begun modelling her own approach to cases on Natalie’s. One day, she hoped to rise up the ranks. She could do it with the right guidance and luck. She believed in herself. Bethany believed in her. Lucy might have been a right little troublemaker when she was a teenager but she’d got the bug now – she was going to be one of the police force’s best officers. Murray knew she’d do anything to climb that ladder and prove herself. He knew what it meant to her. That’s why he’d suggested she move from Stoke-on-Trent with him and join the new team at Samford. ‘Better opportunities, for us both,’ he’d said and he had been right. Murray had good instincts and understood her. He got who she really was, and still liked her. She liked him too. He wasn’t a back-stabbing shit like some other officers. He put up with her strops and, like her, was as determined as hell to make it as a detective.

  Murray appeared out of nowhere, face set in a scowl, and threw his car keys on the desk.

  ‘No go?’ she said, picking up on his mood.

  ‘Ned Coleman definitely didn’t see Audrey and there were only two customers at the convenience store at the time, neither of whom saw Audrey. I’ve drawn a blank and I’m now majorly pissed off.’

  ‘Want to come and interview Miss Goffrey with me?’

  ‘You guys find anything useful?’ Murray asked, ignoring Lucy’s question.

  ‘Not yet. Ian’s out interviewing potential witnesses. He also checked out those guys who found Ava’s body at the garden centre site. They’re squeaky clean. Tony Mellows, the foreman, was working in Dubai in 2015, and Neil Linton, the project manager, was overseeing the development of a new golf course in Scotland, so neither was in the area at the time of Ava’s disappearance. Come on. I’m sick of looking at sodding party dresses. They’re all starting to look the same to me.’

  ‘Have you been looking at dresses for the last couple of hours?’

  ‘No. I just started again. I went to the lab earlier to see if they’d found anything suspicious on Audrey’s mobile phone.’

  ‘Had they?’

  ‘It was clean. She genuinely only used it for playing games, taking photographs, messaging family members. Seems her parents had tight rules about what she could and couldn’t do on it. I went through all the pictures just in case there was anything relevant but couldn’t spot anything odd – they’re mostly photos of her family, friends and some random dog pictures. Natalie said she liked dogs.’

  ‘She really did go out to get a bottle of cola then and not meet up with somebody.’

  ‘Seems that way. She hadn’t sent or received any messages that suggested otherwise and she wasn’t on Snapchat or WhatsApp.’

  ‘Bit too young to be on those.’

  ‘You’d be surprised how many kids actually use those apps even though they’re aimed at older children. Thought it sensible to make sure she wasn’t. Well, you coming to interview the teacher or sit about looking pissed off?’

  Murray heaved himself up. ‘It’s tough being a parent, isn’t it?’ he said, continuing to ignore her offer.

  ‘It’s tough being an adult but we cope with that. You’re not getting cold feet, are you?’

  He picked up his keys again. ‘No. You do understand what you’ll be putting yourselves through, don’t you?’

  ‘Bethany is determined, Murray. She’s thirty-nine. She knows her own mind and she’s dead set on a baby. It’s the right time for her and us both.’

  ‘What about you? You have your career to think about. You definitely sure you want to go through with it?’

  She gave him a serious look, her dark eyes fixed on his face. ‘If Bethany’s happy, I’m happy. I’m ready for the responsibility. It’s not like we suddenly decided to do this. We’ve been through it a gazillion times. Bethany desperately wants to be a stay-at-home mum and she understands my needs too. Look, if you want to back out, we’ll both understand. You only have to say.’

  ‘Nah. I’m good.’ He gave her a winning smile. ‘What time you seeing the teacher?’

  ‘Twenty minutes. Let’s go.’

  Uptown Primary School was located off a housing estate next to a sports leisure complex. Sole access was through a gated entrance via a street from the main road. Lucy had to press an intercom button to gain entry and wait for the gates to automatically open.

  They followed the signs to the staff parking and pulled up outside an attractive, red-brick, one-storey building that appeared to be divided into three sections, the front flanked by square columns and bearing a large, multi-pane window, above which was an ornate carving of two unicorns, while the side sections contained twelve smaller windowpanes. The roof was a matching reddish-brown slate, from which rose two tall brick chimneys at the front and two smaller ones at the rear.

  ‘Pretty grand for a school,’ Murray commented. ‘Far cry from the Portakabins we were taught in.’

  They rounded the building to the entrance secreted in the side of the building and spotted a smaller, less ornate structure, surrounded by a fence.

  Lucy pointed out, ‘They take five- to eleven-year-olds but the youngest are taught separately. No doubt that’s the infant school.’

  The secretary’s office was close to the main entrance. There they were met by a plump, matronly type and escorted along a dimly lit corridor to the staffroom, the size of a small kitchen, into which was stuffed a table, cupboards and eight plastic chairs.

  ‘Miss Goffrey will be across any minute.’

  ‘Not much space in here,’ said Murray, examining the mugs lined up on the worktop. He ducked down and opened a fridge, staring at the Tupperware containers marked with names. ‘Looks like they bring in their own food. I guess school lunches are still as dreadful as I remember them being.’

  Lucy gave a wry smile.

  A bell rang out shrilly and no sooner had its piercing peals ended than the general commotion associated with the start of a school break began: doors crashing open; the clattering of footsteps down the corridor; the clamour of voices
gradually fading into the distance. The staffroom door opened and a woman in her fifties, petite, black-haired, neatly dressed and clutching a file to her chest, burst in.

  ‘Miss Margaret Goffrey?’

  ‘That’s me. How can I help you? The school secretary told me you wanted to ask about Ava Sawyer.’

  ‘It is really more in connection with Audrey Briggs.’

  ‘That poor child. Such a shock. Terrible news. The head teacher said a few words about her at morning assembly. Some of her class are going to have to undergo counselling to help come to terms with her death.’

  ‘She and Ava were in the same class in 2015.’

  ‘They were. I was their form teacher that year.’

  ‘Were they good friends?’

  ‘They were sometimes good friends. Young children form allegiances and break them on a regular basis. Ava was actually close friends with Harriet Downing. It was an unlikely pairing given Harriet was extremely gregarious and Ava awfully withdrawn, but they were definitely best friends for most of that year.’

  ‘What about Audrey?’

  ‘Audrey was a drifter. That’s to say, she got on with everyone, and would flit from one group of friends to another. The last two weeks of term, Audrey and Ava started sitting together and Harriet had moved next to Rainey Kilburn.’

  ‘You think Ava fell out with Harriet?’

  ‘I’d say that was most certainly the case. Ava was a little on the volatile side at times. If she didn’t like something or someone she wouldn’t hide her feelings. She was a bright little girl but she could lose her temper.’

  ‘We read through your statement you gave at the time and understand she was prone to walking off and hiding. Can you expand on that?’

  ‘When I gave the statement, I was trying to assist the police. Ava had disappeared and I explained that she had, on the odd occasion, taken it into her head to walk off. She once hid in the staff toilets for an entire lesson because she said the teacher had told her off for talking when she hadn’t said a word. I thought it would be helpful to know she might have been deliberately hiding, but as it happened, they never found her. And now we’ve lost Audrey too. We appear to be blighted as a school.’