The Stone Circle: The Dr Ruth Galloway Mysteries 11

by Elly Griffiths

  ‘Yes,’ says Maddie, her voice hardening. ‘It’s the hardest thing in the world.’ Ruth knows that she is thinking of Scarlet, her half-sister. That’s not surprising; Ruth has been thinking about her all day too.

  ‘Hallo, Ruth,’ says Maddie, suddenly registering her presence. ‘I hear that you found Margaret’s remains. Can I have an interview sometime?’

  ‘I don’t have anything to say,’ says Ruth.

  ‘I’m sure you do,’ says Maddie, giving her a look that doesn’t seem entirely friendly. ‘Are you coming to the wake?’ She turns to Cathbad.

  ‘Well, maybe just for a few minutes. Just to keep Judy company.’

  But as Cathbad follows his daughter down the steps, Ruth wonders whether it’s Judy or Maddie who needs his company more.

  *

  Back at the station, Nelson reads the post-mortem report on John Mostyn. Mostyn was killed by a single bullet to the heart. As Clough had said earlier, someone knew exactly where to shoot. Nelson wonders what will happen to Mostyn’s body. No requiem mass for him, no police attendance. The only relative they have been able to trace is a cousin in Scotland. Mostyn’s body will probably be cremated with only the undertakers present. Perhaps Nelson should go. It seems wrong to have a funeral with no mourners. Especially if Mostyn does turn out to be innocent of Margaret’s murder.

  Finding Mostyn’s murderer looks as if it will be almost as difficult as tracking down the person who killed Margaret all those years ago. No one was seen entering or leaving Mostyn’s house but the CCTV from the Canada Estate did capture a figure carrying what looked like a body towards the central fountain. At first Nelson had been excited by this but, in the event, the film was almost useless. The man, dressed in a dark coat with a woollen hat pulled down over his eyes, didn’t look up at the cameras once. It was as if he knew where they were. The whole operation – and it did seem like an operation – was almost like a two-finger salute to the police. They couldn’t even be sure that the figure on the CCTV cameras was a man, although he certainly seemed large and strong. The small bit of skin that could be seen looked darkish but they couldn’t even be certain about that. The clothing gave nothing away; enlarging the image showed that masking tape had been put over the logo on the coat. The assassin had thought of everything. He even took the time to remove the bullet from the back of the sofa to prevent the gun from being identified. Clough’s name for Mostyn’s killer is Spectre.

  The fact remains, though, that John Mostyn was murdered. Was it revenge for his supposed murder of Margaret Lacey, old emotions rekindled by the discovery of her body? But forensic reports on Margaret’s remains definitely show the presence of a second person’s DNA. Unfortunately, the report says that this second DNA sample has ‘degraded’, which means that it will be harder to get a match. However, this seems to point to the second DNA being older and therefore potentially that of the murderer. Mostyn’s DNA is on the bones, which means that he handled them, presumably to move them to the stone circle, but the second DNA isn’t on the bones – only on the rope and the gag – because, of course, the killer never saw Margaret’s bones, these emerged many years after death and burial. Unless he was the person who moved them, of course. The killer laid his hands on Margaret’s actual living, breathing body. And then she was living and breathing no more. Nelson thinks of the white coffin, the flowers spelling out the word ‘Daughter’. He makes a silent vow to the dead girl, the golden girl, the angel.

  I will avenge you.

  It seems certain that it was John Mostyn who wrote the letters telling Nelson to search in the stone circle. Several drafts were on his computer and, searching his house, police have found scrapbooks full of old newspaper cuttings about both Margaret’s disappearance and the death of Scarlet Henderson. ‘Scarlet: police find body.’ ‘Scarlet: a family mourns.’ Just reading the headlines brings it all back: the morning when they walked across the marshes at daybreak and Ruth led him unerringly to Scarlet.

  In the scrapbooks there are pages from the Chronicle showing photographs taken by John Mostyn. There’s one of the Saltmarsh: ‘Lonely spot where the little girl’s body was found’. Was it from the newspaper that Mostyn found out about the first letters? Nelson flicks through the file until he finds the letter sent on 12 February 2016.

  Well, here we are again. Truly our end is our beginning . . . You have grown older, Harry. There is grey in your hair and you have known sadness.

  It’s not just the content that’s the same, it’s the tone, the implication that the writer knows Nelson well and is somehow disappointed in him. You could not save Scarlet but you could save the innocent who lies within the stone circle. Believe me, Harry, I want to help. He thinks back to the one time he met Mostyn, when PC Campion was guiding him through giving a DNA sample. There had been something odd about the way Mostyn had looked at him, come to think of it. I know who you are, is what Mostyn had said. Did Mostyn really know him, in some profound and rather sinister way?

  He looks at the last, unfinished, message from John Mostyn.

  You have found Margaret but this is only the beginning. It is the best of times and the worst of times. You must finish what you have started. Courage, my friend. Remember we know not the day nor the hour . . .

  Is this a threat or a warning? Mostyn was right, finding Margaret’s body was only the beginning. They have buried her today so that, at least, is the end of one part of the story. But the second part is more difficult. They must bring Margaret’s killer to justice. Did John Mostyn know who that person was? Was that why he was killed?

  He hears voices in the incident room and goes in to find Judy and Clough back from the wake.

  ‘It was so sad,’ says Judy. ‘I think Karen hoped that the funeral would give them some sort of closure but it just seems to have opened up all the old grief. Karen and Annie were both crying when we left.’

  ‘Was the brother there too?’ asks Nelson. ‘What’s his name? Luke?’

  ‘Yes,’ says Judy. ‘Luke was there with his family who all seem to think they’re too good for the Norfolk branch. Annie’s grown-up children were there as well.’

  ‘Yes, I think Michelle knows the girl with the baby.’

  ‘Star? I spoke to her. She seems very nice, very together. The headmistress, Carol Dunne, mentioned her the other day. Carol was at the funeral too. And Kim Jennings and her family.’

  ‘The place was packed,’ says Clough. ‘Lots of press too. I saw Maddie.’

  Judy rolls her eyes. ‘Maddie seems very in with the family. I left her chatting with Star, holding the baby and all that. Of course, she’s not quite as big a favourite as Cloughie.’

  Clough is eating some crisps left over from someone’s leaving do. ‘I’m starving,’ he says.

  ‘Wasn’t there food at the wake?’ says Nelson. He realises that he hasn’t had any lunch. Does he dare send Leah, his PA, out for sandwiches?

  ‘There was lots of food,’ says Clough, ‘but it didn’t seem right to eat it somehow.’

  *

  ‘Been to a funeral, Ruth?’ says Phil, when he sees Ruth’s black trousers and jacket.

  ‘Yes,’ says Ruth, letting herself into her office. She has the satisfaction of thinking that she has, for once, completely silenced her head of department.

  She shuts the door, hoping that everyone will assume that she’s deep in marking, and gets a rather squashed sandwich out of her bag. She hasn’t had time for lunch but she needs sustenance before her three o’clock tutorial. She has just taken a mouthful of ham and cheese when there’s a knock at the door. Is it Phil, come to apologise for his gaffe/find out about the funeral?

  ‘Come in,’ she says, rather indistinctly.

  The door opens and a blonde woman stands framed in a sudden shaft of sunlight. For a second, Ruth thinks of Michelle, that time that she came to the cottage, to beg Ruth to see Nelson on what she thought was his deathbed. It’s a memory that never ceases to fill Ruth with mingled guilt and admiration. But then sh
e sees that this woman is much younger than Michelle and is wearing ripped jeans and a hoodie. She can’t imagine Michelle in a hoodie.

  ‘You don’t know who I am, do you?’ says the woman.

  ‘Er . . .’ Ruth hesitates, though she is pretty sure that she does recognise this person from some area of her life and it’s not an area that makes her feel very comfortable.

  ‘I’m Laura,’ says the woman. ‘Laura Nelson.’

  Ah. That’s it. Nelson’s daughter. Kate’s half-sister. Come to demand Ruth’s head on a plate, by the looks of it. Salome in ripped jeans.

  ‘Have a seat,’ says Ruth, although Laura has already taken the visitor’s chair.

  ‘So,’ says Laura, ‘you had an affair with my dad.’

  Although Ruth is, by now, expecting something of the sort, she is still thrown off guard.

  ‘It was a long time ago,’ she says at last.

  ‘I realise that,’ says Laura. ‘His daughter must be about eight.’

  ‘Eight in November,’ says Ruth.

  ‘A Scorpio like Dad. How cute.’

  ‘I’m sorry—’ Ruth begins.

  ‘Sorry for what?’ says Laura. ‘For screwing my dad or getting found out?’

  ‘Both,’ says Ruth.

  ‘He’s not going to leave Mum, you know.’

  ‘I know.’

  This seems to take away some of Laura’s aggression. She pushes her hair back and Ruth sees that her eyes are wet with tears. How old is Laura? In her mid-twenties, she thinks. Ruth tries to imagine how she would have reacted, at that age, if she’d found out that her father had a love child. Astounded, mainly, given that her father and late mother were ostentatiously upright Christians. But history is full of virtuous people behaving badly. She doesn’t think that, whatever the circumstances, she would have confronted her father’s mistress at work. Does this make her braver than Laura, or more cowardly?

  ‘You know,’ says Laura. ‘I always rather admired you.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Yes. You were a professional, obviously really good at your job. Even Dad admired you. And then you were a single mother as well. Of course, I didn’t realise that you weren’t really single.’

  ‘Oh I am,’ says Ruth. ‘Believe me.’

  ‘Why should I believe anything you say?’

  ‘That’s up to you,’ says Ruth. ‘I’m sorry you’re upset but there’s really nothing I can do about it. I’ve got Kate and she deserves to see her father sometimes. Your dad’s not going to leave your mum. She’s been terrific about all this.’

  ‘It’s just that he lied to us,’ says Laura, tears now rolling down her cheeks.

  ‘Talk to him,’ says Ruth. ‘I do know one thing – he loves you very much.’

  ‘I don’t want to see him,’ says Laura. ‘I would like to see Katie again though. Can I come over one day?’

  ‘Of course,’ says Ruth. ‘Bring Rebecca too. I’d love her to get to know you both. She’ll adore you.’

  She doesn’t think it’s worth reminding Laura that her half-sister’s name is Kate.

  *

  Nelson stays late at work for a variety of reasons, some only half-acknowledged. There’s a lot of work to be done on both murder cases. Michelle’s mother is staying so he’s not needed for moral support. And he has a superstitious feeling that the longer he stays away, the more likely it will be that Laura will be there when he gets home. She’s not answering her phone and, though he’s left a stream of texts saying he’s sorry and that he loves her, there’s been no reply, not even a sad face. Rebecca is back in Brighton and she’s not answering his calls either.

  Now it’s nine o’clock and even Nelson can’t see any reason for staying at his desk. He has organised the strategy for tomorrow: more door-to-door near Allenby Avenue, more forensic analysis, more research on the Scarning Fell area, interviews with anyone who saw John Mostyn on the day that he died. He really should be getting home, Michelle will be worrying about him. When his phone rings, he’s not surprised to see his wife’s name flashing up on screen.

  ‘Hallo, love. I’m just leaving.’

  ‘Harry!’ says Michelle. ‘The baby’s gone!’

  Chapter 25

  ‘What do you mean?’ he says, the room growing cold around him. ‘George?’

  ‘No.’ Michelle’s voice is stifled with sobs. ‘Ava. Star’s baby.’

  Relief makes Nelson feel temporarily light-headed. He sits down at his desk.

  ‘What do you mean, gone?’

  ‘Star’s just called me. She put Ava down in her cot and now she’s vanished. She’s called the police but I thought you should know as soon as possible. I told her you’d help.’

  Nelson thinks fast. Control will have put the call through to the duty sergeant. Missing Persons, or Mispers, are assessed according to risk and a missing child is the highest priority of all. Uniform will probably be on the scene already. Sooner or later, Nelson and the Serious Crimes Unit will be involved. It might as well be sooner. Nelson gets the address from Michelle and promises to call round. He’s about to ring Judy and ask her to meet him there when he remembers Michael. A missing child case might still be too traumatic for Judy. So he rings Tanya, who is only too pleased to leave whatever she is doing on a Monday night and join him at Star’s house on Ferry Road.

  Tanya is there when he arrives.

  ‘A missing baby,’ she says cheerily. ‘Just like old times.’

  Nelson does not dignify this with an answer.

  The door is opened by Annie, last seen at the funeral. She’s still in her smart black dress but her hair is loose and there’s a wild look in her eyes.

  ‘The police?’ she says. ‘The police are already here.’

  ‘We’re from the Serious Crimes Unit.’ Nelson shows his warrant card.

  Annie looks at him properly for the first time. ‘So you’re DCI Nelson.’

  ‘Yes, and this is DS Tanya Fuller.’

  ‘We’re here to help,’ says Tanya. ‘I’m sure we’ll find your baby soon.’

  ‘It’s my daughter’s baby,’ says Annie, but she stands aside to let them in.

  The sitting room is large but it still seems very crowded. The blonde-haired girl sits sobbing on a sofa comforted by an older man. There are also two uniformed PCs, looking awkward, and another older man in a black suit.

  If Judy were with him Nelson would let her take the lead, comforting Star whilst, at the same time, trying to get all the facts straight in those vital first hours. But he doesn’t altogether trust Tanya so he crouches down next to Star and says, trying for his gentlest voice, ‘Star. I’m DCI Nelson. Harry Nelson. Michelle’s husband. Do you think you could tell me what happened?’

  Star looks at him, her face swollen with tears. ‘Is Michelle here?’

  ‘No. But she sent me. I can help you. Can you tell me what happened? Take a deep breath.’ He says this because Star looks on the verge of hyperventilating. The man (her father?) pats her back and offers a glass of water. It strikes Nelson as slightly odd that it’s not the mother, Annie, who’s doing the comforting.

  ‘I came back early from the wake,’ says Star, ‘because Ava needed a feed. Usually I don’t mind breastfeeding in public but I thought it might scandalise Uncle Luke.’

  The man in the dark suit, whom Nelson takes to be Uncle Luke, makes a noise of protest but Star carries on. ‘I fed her and put her down in her car seat.’ Her voice starts to tremble.

  ‘In her car seat?’ says Nelson.

  ‘Yes, it doubles as a carry cot.’

  ‘Has that gone too?’

  ‘Yes,’ says Star. She looks at Nelson, eyes wide with horror. ‘Oh God. Do you think that means someone’s taken her somewhere in the car? Somewhere miles away?’

  ‘Easy, love,’ says Nelson. ‘Let’s take things slowly. Make sure we’ve got all the information. So you put Ava to sleep in her car seat. Where was that? In here?’

  ‘Yes,’ says Star. ‘I put her down over there, by th
e French windows.’ As if impelled, they all look to the spot where the swagged velvet curtains cover the window. Star continues, ‘Then I lay down on the sofa and I went to sleep.’ She sobs, doubling up as if in pain. ‘I shouldn’t have gone to sleep but I was tired. I’d got up three times last night. And the funeral . . . it was so sad . . . I just closed my eyes.’ She is sobbing uncontrollably now.

  ‘You’re doing well, love,’ says Nelson. ‘When was this? And was there anyone else in the house?’

  His voice seems to calm Star a little. She looks up, wiping her eyes on her sleeve, which is black and slightly see-through, presumably worn for the funeral. ‘No. I was on my own. Uncle Luke dropped me off but he went back to Grandma’s house.’

  Presumably to avoid witnessing any breastfeeding. ‘What time was this?’ says Nelson again.

  ‘About seven. I fed Ava and put her down. Then, like I said, I went to sleep. When I woke up it was eight. I thought at first that Mum had come back and taken Ava upstairs but she wasn’t back and nor was Dad. I rang her and texted her. I was running round the house in hysterics.’

  ‘We came straight back,’ says the father. ‘And I rang the police.’

  ‘I called Michelle,’ says Star, ‘because I know you’re in charge of the police.’

  Nelson half wishes Jo were here to hear this. ‘Not quite,’ he says. ‘But you did well to let me know. We’ll find Ava, I promise you. Have you done a proper search of the house? You’d be surprised how many times missing children turn out to be in the house all along.’

  ‘We’ve searched the house thoroughly, sir,’ says one of the PCs, sounding both awed and slightly resentful.

  ‘I looked too,’ says Luke. ‘I came back with Annie and Dave.’

  Why? Nelson wonders. He doesn’t seem to be adding much in terms of help or moral support.

  ‘And there’s no other member of the family that could have popped in and taken Ava somewhere? For a walk or something like that?’

  He looks back towards the window. It’s pitch black outside and the wind is getting up but stranger things have happened. He remembers driving Laura round and round the block when she wouldn’t sleep. Please God, make her come home tonight.