by Carol Wyer
‘Who would that have been?’
‘Audrey Briggs and Harriet Downing. Everything Harriet did, Rainey did too,’ said Paula, then she stopped suddenly. Tears poured down her face.
Tanya put an arm around her shoulders. ‘It’s okay. Let it out.’
The woman cried silently into Tanya’s shoulder.
Donald’s face crumpled. ‘It’s so hard to take in,’ he said.
‘I understand. It’s a traumatic time for you. I really am most sorry.’
He swallowed hard. ‘I was at physiotherapy yesterday afternoon. I go three times a week. I had an accident at work last year. Slipped on a wet platform on an oil rig. Busted both hips. It’s been a long journey to get back on my feet. Paula was at work. I keep thinking, if only one of us had been around to meet her from school, this wouldn’t have happened. If Paula hadn’t had to take on extra shifts, she’d have been here and we’d have known Rainey was missing sooner. We’d have maybe saved her.’
‘You mustn’t think like that. Neither of you are responsible for what happened.’
‘And Tyler won’t come out of his room. He thinks it’s his fault. If he hadn’t been pratting about in lessons, he’d have walked home with her. I don’t know what to say to him. Part of me is angry with him.’ Donald looked at her with imploring eyes.
‘It’s natural to hunt for reasons why this happened and to point the finger of blame at yourself or others, but the fact is a series of events occurred that were out of your control. You must talk to the liaison officer and let her help you. You’ll need that support.’
‘What I really need is for this to be a horrid nightmare, and for my daughter to return home,’ said Donald. ‘But that isn’t going to happen.’
Natalie allowed him a minute to compose his features once more then asked, ‘Was Rainey good friends with Audrey Briggs?’
‘It’s no coincidence, is it? First Audrey, now Rainey.’
‘We’re examining several leads and possibilities at the moment.’
‘I see. Okay. Rainey was in the same class as Audrey and they’d known each other since they started school together. She got on with her, I think. Audrey’s name would crop up from time to time and she came back here on a play date or for tea once or twice, I believe. Paula can confirm that. Of course, they took dance classes together and played netball and swam; the usual things girls of the same age do.’
‘Where did they play netball?’
‘At the leisure centre. There were after-school clubs.’
‘Was Rainey friends with Ava Sawyer?’
‘Not to my knowledge. I work as a derrickman, so I was often away on various rigs, and didn’t do school runs or get involved with my daughter’s activities at that time. That was Paula’s area of expertise. She’d do the ferrying about for both Rainey and Tyler. I don’t know if they were friends but I do remember Ava disappeared at Harriet’s sixth birthday. It was big news at the time, and of course Paula was horrified at what had happened that day. I heard on the radio the other day, Ava’s body had been discovered.’
‘That’s right.’
‘Three missing girls. Three dead girls,’ he said slowly and let the words hang in the air before sighing heavily and speaking again. ‘I don’t know what else I can tell you. It’s all too raw for me to be of much use to you.’
Tanya caught Natalie’s eye and nodded. Paula’s sobs had lessened. ‘Paula, can you talk to Natalie?’ she asked.
Paula’s face was red. Tanya passed her a tissue and she wiped her running nose.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said, gulping back final tears.
‘I quite understand. Take your time. What can you tell me about Rainey and Ava? Was Rainey friends with her?’
Paula gave a quick shake of her head. ‘She stayed away from Ava. Found her too volatile. That wasn’t the word she used. She just said Ava was too up and down. Ava and Harriet Downing used to be inseparable until just before the birthday party. Something happened between them and they fell out. Rainey became Harriet’s closest friend around that time and they remained best friends from that day.’ She swallowed hard and fresh tears sprang to her eyes. Tanya handed her the cup of tea, which she sipped.
‘And would you say Rainey was also good friends with Audrey Briggs?’
‘She was good friends with all the girls in her class.’
The doorbell rang and Tanya stood up to answer it. Another liaison officer had arrived. Natalie decided it was time to leave them all, and thanking them, she departed. Her thoughts were no longer on the birthday party. Audrey and Rainey had both attended swimming classes and netball club. She had another avenue to pursue.
The office was a hive of activity on her return, with each member of her team fully occupied.
‘Carl turned up a few minutes ago. Murray’s in the interview room with him,’ said Lucy.
‘Good. I’ll sit in.’
‘Before you go, I got a reply from the American lady who made the yellow dresses.’
She swivelled her laptop around. The yellow dress on the screen looked very like the ones Rainey and Audrey had been wearing. ‘She makes them to order in a variety of colours and had an order from the UK for five identical dresses.’
‘Five?’
‘I’m afraid so. There’s more bad news. They were delivered to a Mrs Smith at a collection point in Uptown, and the dresses were paid for with an Etsy gift card so we don’t know who ordered them. I got an email address for the supposed customer – [email protected] – but the tech boys say the account’s been deleted and was set up with a false name and address.’
‘Oh, for fuck’s sake! The bastard’s one step ahead of us. Okay, there has to be a way to find out who collected them. Where’s the collection point?’
‘Warehouse the other side of Uptown.’
‘Head over there and ask around. Maybe they don’t have loads of parcels from the States and they’ll remember who came in for it. Ask the tech team if they know how to identify a purchaser of an Etsy gift card and track down the recipient. The perp’s not getting away with this.’
Ian looked up. ‘I’ve made some progress too. I checked out Jennifer Collinswood, Audrey and Rainey’s form teacher. She still lives at home with her parents and doesn’t have a boyfriend. She has an exemplary work record and does volunteer work for a disabled children’s charity at weekends. I’ve also located Elsa Townsend. She isn’t in Spain as we thought. She’s been back in the UK for the last three weeks.’
Natalie’s eyebrows lifted. ‘How did you find her?’
Ian grinned. ‘Got the techies to track down the IP address for her email and then called in a favour from a mate who used to be a copper but who now lives on the Costa del Sol. The address was an Internet café in Puerto Banús, so he went in and asked about her, showed her photo to the café owners, who are British, and found out she returned to the UK. Checked with immigration and she came into Manchester on Thursday, 6 April.’
‘Well done. Any idea where she might be?’
‘The tech boys are searching for any information that might give us a clue.’
‘Good. Good.’ Natalie turned towards the door. Even though this revelation had spiked her curiosity, Carl Sawyer still had some explaining to do. ‘Oh, Ian. Can you find out who runs the after-school netball club and the times for the swimming lessons on Saturdays at the Uptown leisure centre for me?’
‘Will do. Dealing with a list of allotment owners for the moment.’
‘Do that first and then chase up the leisure centre.’
She strode into the corridor. Suddenly, there was a lot of information to process. She hoped they could do so speedily because at the front of her mind was the chilling knowledge that whoever was behind this had purchased five dresses, and to date, only two had turned up. The dresses were significant and important to the killer. If only she could understand their relevance, she might be able to put a halt to this before any more children died. Was this because of Ava Sawyer, the
girl in the original yellow dress? Maybe Ava’s father could help her answer that question.
Twenty-Six
THEN
It’s Monday morning and he’s been waiting with bated breath for Sherry to join the school bus, face pressed against the window to get a first glimpse of her before she boards. The doll is hidden in his satchel and he will give it to her on the bus in spite of what her mother said. The night before, he dreamt that instead of heading directly for the back seat where she usually hangs out with her friends, she stopped at his seat and sat down next to him. He handed her the doll and she loved it. She gave him a kiss and wanted to be his friend. He’d woken with his heart thudding at such a possibility.
Back on the school bus, he cranes his neck to get his face closer to the cool glass and peers out. It’s a beautiful, bright morning with hedges full of white hawthorn blossom and clumps of daffodils pushing up from grassy verges. The bus draws into Acton village and takes the route, as always, around the pond towards the wooden bus shelter. Now he can make out the group of children waiting, identical in their school uniform. There are only six who regularly get on at this stop: four kids in the year above him, then Gail Shore and Sherry Hunt. There are sometimes one or two parents who like to make sure their kids are on board but today there’s a small group of parents who stare solemnly at the bus and watch as everyone troops on board. Sherry isn’t among them. His heart sinks. He’s waited impatiently all weekend to hand Sherry her gift and she isn’t here. Worse still, Gail has joined the older kids and their heads are lowered and he has no idea what they’re saying. He slumps in his seat, deflated. Is Sherry ill?
It suddenly hits him. The children up front are talking about him going to Sherry’s house. They’re saying things behind his back again. He’s going to get into trouble and be sent in front of the headmaster for going to her house. If his mother is brought into school again, he’ll be in major trouble.
The bus picks up at the next two stops, and lost in his own misery, he barely registers the fact all the children are sitting towards the front of the bus, leaving him alone at the rear. Ostracised. He knows what it means. He looked it up in his parents’ big black dictionary they keep in the sitting room. It means to be excluded, rejected from a group.
He reaches school and hides in the toilets until school begins. His palms are soaking wet. The bell sounds for the start of lessons and he has to join his class in the line-up outside the form room, in silence. Gail glances at him as he shuffles to the back of the line and then away again. She hisses something to another girl and they both give him a look that chills him. He is in trouble.
They troop into class. He stands behind his desk as he must every morning, wondering why Sherry hasn’t come into school. Is she that frightened of him, she doesn’t dare come to class? Her desk looks lonely without her.
The form teacher looks really serious, her mouth pulled down at the corners. ‘Good morning, children.’
‘Good morning, Mrs Tideswell,’ they chorus.
‘You may sit down.’
The sound of scraping chairs fills the room. He stares at the large times table charts on the wall rather than look at Mrs Tideswell. He knows she is going to say something about him going to the birthday party. The class settles and she stands.
‘I’m afraid I have to start with some terrible news,’ she says. He can’t hear for the drumming in his ears. She’s going to tell them all about him having a doll and how he tried to give it to Sherry for her birthday. They’ll call him names and laugh at him.
‘It’s about Sherry. Some of you might already have heard rumours but it’s been confirmed. I’m sorry to say, Sherry and her family were involved in a car accident on Sunday evening and have tragically all lost their lives.’
He sees Mrs Tideswell’s lips move but he can no longer hear her words. Sherry, pretty Sherry in her yellow party dress, is dead. She’ll never know about the present and he’ll never have her as a friend.
The class turn their heads as one towards his desk and it takes a while for him to register he is sobbing uncontrollably.
He knows his mum is concerned about him but there’s nothing he can do to stop her worrying. She keeps looking over at him from her ironing board. She’s put on some cartoons for him but he can’t concentrate on them. He’s been morose since she came to fetch him from school. Mrs Tideswell told her he was in shock. All he knows is Sherry has gone – forever.
His mother is heading upstairs with the basket of ironing to put it in the airing cupboard.
‘I’m going outside to play,’ he says.
She halts on the third step and half-turns towards him. ‘Good idea. Don’t leave the garden though.’
‘I won’t. I don’t want to.’
As soon as she’s out of sight, he reaches into his satchel that’s leaning against the wall by the front door and pulls out the plastic bag. He can’t bear to look inside. He scurries to the back door, changes into his outdoor shoes and slips out into the garden.
The garden is awash with colour. His parents take pride in it and spend much of their free time working the flower beds. There’s a special shed at the bottom of the garden containing all the gardening equipment. He sometimes helps out but he has to be supervised in case he pulls out a flower instead of a weed.
He visits the shed then approaches the freshly dug patch his parents were clearing that weekend. They’re going to plant a variety of daffodil bulbs here in September. He’s seen the bulbs, in paper bags in the shed, bulbs of all sizes that look dried up and dead at the moment but will bloom into a vibrant display of yellows and creams next year. This is the right spot.
He makes quite a deep hole. He doesn’t want his parents to find what he’s going to bury there. It doesn’t take long to scrape back the freshly dug earth, its damp warmth permeating his nostrils as he digs. When the hole is large enough, he peeps inside the bag, checks the doll’s dress is neat. His heart lurches once more at the sight of her pretty face.
‘Bye-bye, Sherry. I’ll miss you.’
He wraps the bag around her and places her gently in the hole before covering it back up, and then, wiping the dirt from his hands, he heads back towards the house.
Twenty-Seven
FRIDAY, 28 APRIL – LATE AFTERNOON
Carl Sawyer filled the seat in the interview room. The tops of his biceps bulged from his T-shirt sleeves and his wide hands rested on the stretched fabric of his jeans. His face was blank.
‘Good afternoon, Carl,’ said Natalie.
‘Why am I here?’
‘You’re of interest to us.’
‘Oh, I am, am I? And why would that be?’
‘Where were you yesterday afternoon at around four o’clock?’
‘Out and about.’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
He lifted his shoulders and his mouth turned downwards. ‘What I said. Out and about.’
‘Would that have been in Uptown?’
He refused to answer.
‘Let’s cut to it. You were spotted on CCTV in Uptown yesterday headed along St Chad’s Road in the direction of Monks Walk.’
‘And?’
‘Why were you there?’
‘I’d met up with somebody and was going back to my car.’
‘And who was this “somebody”?’
‘Why’s it important?’
‘Because you happened to be in the vicinity at about the time a young girl was attacked and killed.’
His face remained impassive but his eyes darted left and right as the reality of what was being said dawned on him.
‘So, I’ll ask you again, who were you meeting?’
Carl shifted uncomfortably in his seat. ‘She didn’t want anyone to know she was in Uptown.’
‘Who didn’t?’
‘Elsa Townsend.’
‘The woman who owned Uptown Craft Centre and Farm with her husband Barney?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Why were you meetin
g up?’
‘She contacted me on Thursday morning. She’d heard Ava’s body had been found. She wanted to talk to me.’
‘What did she want to talk to you about?’
‘About how sorry she was and how guilty she felt. She was anxious I’d think she had something to do with it, given Ava was found at the centre.’
‘Where is Elsa now?’
‘I don’t know. I met her at the Dove and Horses. There weren’t many customers. We had a drink. She cried a lot and said she was really sorry about Ava, that she’d read about her body being recovered from the site, and how she needed to reassure me she knew nothing about it.’
‘How did that make you feel?’
‘I didn’t feel anything. The stupid cow was in charge that day and no matter what she says, she was accountable for what happened. She should have kept an eye on my daughter. She may not have killed Ava but she sure as hell was responsible for what happened to her. I told her as much. Left her in tears.’
‘You were pretty angry, then?’
He glowered at Natalie. ‘You could say that.’
‘Where did you go after your meeting?’
‘Back to my van. It was in the multi-storey car park on St Chad’s Road.’
‘What time did you leave town?’
‘I have no idea. I sat in the van for a while. I was worked up. I suppose it was about four thirty. I went straight home.’
‘Do you have a car park ticket that will verify this?’
‘No, I don’t. There’ll be some recording though, won’t there? There’s a camera at the barrier that reads the number plate.’
Natalie looked at Murray, who left the room to confirm the statement.
‘Carl, where were you on Wednesday afternoon?’
‘Home.’
‘You weren’t at work?’ With no one to confirm his whereabouts, he had no alibi for the afternoon Audrey was killed.
‘I took a few days off.’
‘You stayed at home all day?’
