by Carol Wyer
‘Did you see much of Audrey?’
‘Not after she moved up into the main building. I tend to stick to the infants, which means I’m usually at the other building.’
‘What about the other members of that class? Can you remember how they interacted, who they played with and, more importantly, how they got on with Ava?’
‘There was nothing that stood out. I can give you a list of the children in the class if you want, although they were all at the party when Ava disappeared, so you might already have their names. There were no real standouts in the group. Harriet had oodles of confidence and was an attention seeker, and used to getting her own way. Ava was her number-one fan. Without Harriet, I imagine Ava would have found it difficult to mix with the others. Harriet got along with everyone and Ava naturally became accepted by them. I never fully worked her out. She was polite and enjoyed schoolwork but during form times she’d sometimes simply stare into space, and the look on her face – it was dreadfully sad, as if something was troubling her.’
‘You didn’t ever ask her about what might be bothering her?’
‘I did try on more than one occasion. She became defensive and said nothing was wrong.’
‘Did you press the issue?’
‘It’s difficult to stay on top of a class of five- and six-year-olds. They throw tantrums. They make noise. They all want your attention. They need supervision all the time. Ava wasn’t a troublemaker. She didn’t suddenly burst into tears or need a cuddle. She was a reserved child and I let her be.’
‘You ever suspect she might be being abused?’
‘It crossed my mind. You come across it, now and again, but there were no obvious marks on her body or any of the other signs we look out for. I broached the subject of her withdrawing with her mother, and she said it was typical of Ava. She often retreated into herself. She believed it was because Ava was an only child and this was her first experience of mixing with other children. We talked about ways of engaging her further, and we had hoped she’d grow out of it.’
‘And Audrey?’
‘Quite the opposite. An easy-going, likeable, delightful girl.’
The staffroom door opened again and two women entered, heading directly to the kettle on the worktop.
Margaret lowered her tone. ‘I don’t really have anything new to add to my statement. I’m sorry I can’t be of more help.’
‘Thank you for your time. If you can think of anything else, please would you let us know?’
‘I shall.’
‘Should I have asked her anything else?’ Lucy said as they marched back to the car.
‘I can’t think of anything. We know Ava was reserved and would go off if she felt like it. She and Harriet fell out sometime before the party. Audrey was popular with her classmates. I think that’s everything.’
‘None of it helps, does it?’ Lucy’s dark eyebrows drew together. ‘We’ve got shit all to go on.’
‘I don’t know. Maybe if you slot that information into place with everything else we get, it’ll be useful. Maybe Ava wandered off at the party and wasn’t abducted. That would explain why nobody saw anything. What if she intended hiding somewhere, had an accident and died? Or hid so well she couldn’t be found, and then got frightened, got into trouble? Oh, I don’t know… something happened to her. We haven’t established she was murdered yet, have we?’
Lucy put her hands on her hips and stared at him. ‘I did a crap job in there. Why are you being ultra nice?’
‘That’s me all over, isn’t it? Mr Nice.’
She barked a laugh. ‘Fuck off. That’s not why Bethany and I chose you to be the father of our child.’
‘What was it, then? My good looks and fantastic genes?’
‘We didn’t know who else to ask,’ she said and grinned.
Fourteen
THEN
His mother is out at the shops and he’s been ordered to stay inside. No sooner has she gone than he extracts the old cardboard box from the bottom of his wardrobe and pulls the doll from under the boxes of games and comics. She looks pleased to see him.
‘Hello, Sherry. Do you want to play a game?’
He walks her along the floor to his bed, fingers circling her cool, plastic legs.
‘I don’t know any boys’ games. I only know how to skip, do handstands and play chase,’ he says in a silly voice.
‘We could play cowboys. You can be captured by Indians and tied up to the table leg and then I can come and rescue you.’
‘I don’t like that game.’
He stares at the doll and wonders what to do with her next. She is of no real use to him. She can’t turn somersaults like his wind-up dog, or move at all without assistance. Only her eyes open and close, depending on if she’s upright or lying down. She can’t do anything, but she’s pretty and he doesn’t want to get rid of her. He pokes one of the eyes and she doesn’t scream. She merely smiles her gentle smile. He lifts her skirt and pulls at the cream knickers, wondering what’s under them, and is disappointed to find only round plastic. He hoists them back up.
The day before, Sherry and her friends had been doing handstands on the ‘girls only’ grassed area, and he had observed them from close to the playground wall. He’d marvelled as they kicked and lunged and balanced on their hands, giggling whenever they tumbled over. Their movements seemed impossible for he could never imagine getting his huge frame upside down like that. Sherry was a natural gymnast. With her hair tied in a ponytail, she’d shimmied her shoulders then raised her hands and spun effortlessly onto them, immediately pushing her arms and legs straight into the air. In the process, her pleated skirt had fallen over her shoulders, exposing her navy-blue school knickers. What had caught his eye most were her long, pale legs in short, white socks, just like his doll’s. Sherry had spotted him lurking and stood up, patting her skirt back into place, and yelled at him to clear off. He had sloped away, embarrassed at having been caught staring. Back in the classroom, he’d heard one of her friends whisper he was a fat pervert, and Sherry sniggered.
In his bedroom, his cheeks heat up at the memory and he lifts Sherry the doll by her hair.
‘Why did you laugh at me?’ he asks. ‘I only wanted to be your friend.’
The doll doesn’t respond, and as he recalls the look Sherry gave him in the classroom, he begins to twist the doll’s head round and round until it comes off in his hand. He’s disappointed. There’s no sense of pleasure or elation at having yanked off the head. He holds the expressionless head in the palm of his hand and hurls it across the room, where it strikes the wardrobe door and rolls away. The eyes shut. Now he peers into her body cavity. The doll is completely empty. He wonders what Sherry Hunt would look like if her head twisted off; a giggle erupts from nowhere and explodes into the air, and he falls back onto the bed, laughing loudly at the thought.
Then the laughter turns to silent tears and he retrieves the doll’s head, presses it back into the neck hole. It resists and won’t pop back into place. His hands become sweaty and the head slips in his palms. His pulse quickens. He didn’t mean to break the doll. He doesn’t want her to be broken. He pushes the head again, this time with more force, and is relieved when it finally pops back into place.
‘Sorry, Sherry,’ he says.
‘It’s okay. You’re my friend.’
Fifteen
THURSDAY, 27 APRIL – AFTERNOON
Natalie left Little Stars Dance Academy with the feeling she was onto something although she could not fathom out its significance. She needed to talk to Bruce again, and soon.
Ian had messaged across an address and phone number for Barney Townsend, who together with his ex-wife, Elsa, had owned Uptown Craft Centre, and who now lived only ten miles from Uptown, on the outskirts of Bablington, a village renowned for its gardens that were open annually to the public. Given Natalie was not far away, she decided to visit rather than ring. She preferred eye contact with people when asking them questions. It was harder for them
to be more evasive. He might have an idea of where Elsa was and could maybe tell her more about the woman.
Barney Townsend was toiling in his garden, a cornucopia of colours and enormous blooms, when she arrived. He removed his gardening gloves and left them on the handle of a wheelbarrow, approaching her with a smile. His face was weathered, and his thick arms, sticking out from a short-sleeved shirt, were lightly tanned from exposure to the spring sunshine.
‘Can I help you?’
‘I’m DI Ward. I’ve been trying to locate your ex-wife, Elsa, but we can’t find a contact number or address for her. It’s regarding an incident that took place in 2015.’
‘The little girl that disappeared,’ he said, face screwing up.
‘Ava Sawyer.’
‘I remember her name. Won’t ever forget it. Elsa took it badly, really badly.’
‘We’ve uncovered her body.’
Barney let out a groan. ‘The only way Elsa could live with herself was to believe Ava was alive.’
‘She confided in you?’
‘We had divorced by the time Ava disappeared but we stayed in touch. After the child went missing, Elsa came to visit me. She was in a dreadful state. In the wake of what happened, the party bookings had stopped and the business began to nosedive. The garden centre side of it was just managing to stay afloat but the animals, parties and so forth were what had kept it profitable. She was depressed about everything: Ava disappearing, the business sliding, and she hated working with Alistair. She wanted to get away from it all. She asked if I’d buy her share at a discounted rate. I refused. I’d done my time there and I was happy taking early retirement. I’d already bought this place and I get pleasure out of looking after it. It’s enough for me.’
‘Why did you sell to Alistair Fulcher?’
He gave a tight smile. ‘He made me an offer I couldn’t refuse.’
‘Were you aware at the time that Elsa wouldn’t get along with him?’
‘No, no. You’re barking up the wrong tree. I sold out to Alistair because he offered me sufficient money to be free of both the business and of Elsa. Working and living together drove us apart. We stopped being a couple. Every conversation became about the business. All the problems followed us home and we never switched off. It drove a wedge between us.’
‘What did Elsa tell you about the day Ava went missing?’
‘Only that she’d had one of her migraines. She was so desperate for some relief, she passed the children to Guy as soon as she could and went to the office to get some painkillers. It took a while for them to take effect, and as soon as they did, she met up with Guy and Janet, only to find out Ava had gone.’
‘You weren’t at the centre that day?’
‘After I sold my shares, I didn’t set foot in the place again. There was no need.’
‘Have you spoken to Elsa since she went to Spain?’
‘Last time I saw her was when she told me she and Alistair had decided to cut their losses and sell to Poppyfields. She didn’t care about the money. She wanted to get as far away from the memories as possible. It wasn’t only the business that changed and suffered after that terrible day. Elsa did too.’
‘Do you have any idea where your ex-wife might be?’
‘As it happens, I don’t. I do, however, have an email address for her. She emailed me a couple of weeks ago, on my birthday. I’ll write it down for you.’
He strode towards the door and a black cat ambled outside, plonking itself down on a low wall to bask in the sunshine. Natalie chewed over what she’d learnt. Elsa had wanted to get away from the centre soon after Ava’s disappearance. Had it been because she’d felt guilty? Had she somehow been involved in the girl’s death or in hiding her body?
Barney returned, a scrap of paper in his hand. ‘If she contacts me, I’ll let you know.’ He paused, his eyes resting a moment on a clump of late-flowering narcissus. ‘Can I ask – where did you find Ava Sawyer?’
‘Behind the centre. Have you not seen the news recently?’
He shook his head. ‘I don’t own a television any more. I got rid of it when I moved here. I wanted tranquillity and to be cut off from the world. I work in my garden most days and I prefer to read of an evening. Behind the centre. That’s dreadful. That means Ava was there all the time.’
‘Possibly so. I’d appreciate it if you hear from Elsa, to let us know. We need to talk to her about all of this again.’
‘I understand.’
She withdrew to the lane where her car was parked and climbed inside. Her mobile rang, revealing an unknown number. It was Carlton from the dance academy.
‘I’ve persuaded Bruce he must talk to you. He’s going to stop off at Samford Police Station on his way home from his meeting. He ought to be there in an hour.’
‘Thank you, Carlton. I’ll make sure I’m back to talk to him.’
Natalie reached the station with half an hour to spare before Bruce’s arrival and raced to the office to gather as much information about the man as she could ahead of the interview. The team was back, with not much news and glum faces. Ian was first to speak as soon as Natalie threw her handbag on the floor.
‘I’ve interviewed the entire list of registered vehicle owners who were in the vicinity at the time Audrey vanished, and not one of them saw her, or anyone else for that matter, around the park entrance or on the street.’
‘Damn. I really hoped somebody would have seen her,’ said Natalie.
‘I hate it when investigations stall like this. Are people so blinkered they see nothing? Two girls vanish and no one notices.’
‘It hasn’t stalled, Ian. It’s ongoing and we’re still processing information. We’ll find something. There’ll be something. Check out Bruce Kennedy for me. He co-owns the Little Stars Dance Academy. He’ll be here soon for an interview. Apparently, he had a few chats with Ava. Sometimes she’d drift off and sit in reception and chat with him. Murray, you can come in on the interview. Help me extract some information from him. Okay, what else have we established so far?’
‘Not a great deal. We couldn’t get hold of Beatrice Sawyer, Ava’s mum. I rang her and we tried her house but she wasn’t in. All we found out was that Ava would sometimes wander off and hide,’ said Lucy. ‘That’s pretty much all we’ve ascertained.’
‘That corresponds to what I’ve been hearing. It’s increasingly likely she strolled off the day of the birthday party, though I can’t guess what happened to her afterwards. I’m concerned Elsa Townsend was keen to dispose of her share of the business soon after the event. It smacks of a guilty conscience, but whether that was because she knew Ava was dead or she had some part in disposing of her body, or she killed Ava, or she felt responsible, we won’t know until we speak to her. Here’s her email address. Can you see if the tech guys can trace it?’
‘I’ll do it when you’re interviewing Bruce,’ said Ian.
‘Lucy, look into Barney Townsend for me. He was married to Elsa. Check there’s nothing untoward.’
‘Any reason?’
‘Eliminating him and making sure we look at everyone who was possibly connected. That’s all. Talking of which: Murray, how did you get on with Ned Coleman, the gentleman who lives opposite the park in Uptown?’
‘Nah. He didn’t hear or see anything outside yesterday. He was glued to Heartbeat at the time.’
‘Nothing in the police database about him?’
‘Nothing at all.’ Murray looked away, his focus once more on his screen.
Lucy swivelled around in her seat to speak. ‘By the way, Ian found nothing on those workmen who uncovered Ava. They’re clean. Weren’t in the vicinity when Ava went missing.’ Ian acknowledged her comment with a nod.
‘Another blank.’ Natalie scrolled through the police general database for information regarding Bruce. The office fell silent apart from the clicking of keyboards. Bruce had obtained a degree from a drama school in London and had had minor roles in several musicals. In 1999, he joined an enterta
inment team on board the Queen Nefertiti that cruised regularly around the Red Sea. In 2006, he and Carlton set up the academy. He married Carlton in 2016. Natalie’s phone rang shrilly. She snatched it from the desk, eyes still on the screen. Mike was on the other end.
‘We have some important news for you. Naomi completed her examination of Ava’s bones. There were no evident injuries to the skull or breakages to the limbs, but there was sufficient damage to the hyoid bone to identify the cause of death. Children’s bones may be less brittle than adults’ bones, but should sufficient pressure be exerted, they can break just the same. It’s her belief that Ava was strangled.’
‘And the pathologist confirmed strangulation was most likely the cause of Audrey’s death,’ said Natalie, resting her elbows on her desk. ‘We’re either looking for a copycat murderer or one person who was responsible for both deaths.’
‘It would appear so.’
Lucy looked up and made a gesture. Natalie ended her call.
‘I think I might have just found where Audrey’s dress came from. There’s one like it on Etsy in the USA.’
Natalie scooted across and looked at the picture. It was a copy of the one Audrey had been wearing.
‘I’ll contact the seller,’ said Lucy.
The internal phone blipped and Natalie answered it. Bruce Kennedy was in reception.
‘Ian, you got anything on Bruce?’
‘I’ve uncovered something about him you’ll find interesting.’
‘Fill me in quickly. He’s here.’
Sixteen
THURSDAY, 27 APRIL – AFTERNOON
