The Stone Circle: The Dr Ruth Galloway Mysteries 11

by Elly Griffiths

  ‘We’ve asked everyone,’ says Annie. ‘Matt and Sienna have gone home. There’s only Mum and Pete and the boys.’

  ‘The boys’ must be Karen’s children with her second husband. By Nelson’s reckoning they must be in their late twenties or early thirties.

  ‘We need to do a fingertip search of the area,’ says Nelson. ‘Tanya, phone through to control and say that we’re treating this as HR and need reinforcements here as soon as possible.’ He doesn’t want to say the words High Risk aloud, though, with a newborn baby and a cold March night, it’s pretty obvious.

  He asks the constables if they’ve spoken to the neighbours and they haven’t. ‘We’d only just got here when you arrived and we searched the house first.’

  ‘Well, do it now,’ says Nelson. ‘I want a list of everyone who has been in and out since seven p.m.’ He looks back at Star, sobbing on the sofa, now with a parent at either side. He turns back to Luke. ‘Could you show me the layout of the house?’ he says.

  *

  They search all night. The house and garden on Ferry Street are taken apart and put together again. Police in protective clothing trawl through the nearby gardens, torches illuminating lawns and shrubbery, watched from above by curious and resentful householders. Nelson’s friend Jan Adams, the famous police dog handler, arrives with Barney, a distant relative of Bruno. Barney sets off efficiently, nose down, tail waving. Jan is uncharacteristically subdued, calling her dog with strange staccato commands. They all know that a search for a missing baby rarely ends well.

  From the start Nelson was worried about the proximity of the river. Is it possible that someone has taken Ava and put her in the dark water, like a horrible version of the Moses story, without the kindly princess pulling the wicker basket to shore? At midnight he calls for the frogmen and they add to the strange procession through the Lynn streets, amphibious creatures who disappear into the depths with barely a sound. But the frogmen find nothing.

  At three Nelson goes home for a few hours’ sleep. Michelle is up, feeding George, and they confer in whispers because of Louise sleeping next door. Michelle hasn’t heard from Laura but she thinks she has been home to collect some of her belongings. Laura is in touch with Rebecca but Rebecca won’t say where she is. For her part, Rebecca is angry with her father but this is almost trumped by her curiosity about Katie. Rebecca will come round. Neither of them are sure about Laura who, although generally sweet-tempered, possesses a strength of will that her parents often call stubbornness. Michelle weeps about Ava and holds George so tightly that he squeaks. ‘What do you know about the family?’ asks Nelson, getting into bed.

  Michelle looks at him. ‘You can’t suspect . . .’

  ‘The family are always the first suspects,’ says Nelson, ‘you know that.’

  ‘I’m sure there’s nothing like that with Star’s family,’ says Michelle, switching George to her other breast. ‘I mean, she’s living with her parents. They seem to get on well.’ Nelson tries to frame another question, something about Uncle Luke and Star’s obvious preference for her father over her mother, but he’s asleep before he finds the right words.

  *

  The briefing is at seven. The team are all there: Tanya full of satisfaction at being the first DS on the scene, Clough chewing thoughtfully, Judy . . . Nelson finds it hard to read Judy’s face. She looks pale but composed enough, making notes in her leather-bound book as she always does. Is she thinking about Michael? Is she resentful that Nelson took Tanya with him last night? Judy gives little away, a quality Nelson admires in principle but, at the moment, he feels that he’s had enough of enigmatic women.

  ‘The timeline is quite tight,’ says Nelson. ‘Star left the wake at six thirty and was driven back to her house by Luke Lacey. He left her at about six forty-five and drove to Karen’s house, where the remaining family members were gathering. Star says she fed Ava at seven, then woke at eight to find that the baby had disappeared. She called her parents at once and they contacted the police. First responders were there at eight thirty. Fuller and I got to the house at nine eighteen.’

  ‘What time did Luke get back to Karen’s house?’ asks Clough.

  ‘That’s something we’ve got to ascertain today,’ says Nelson. ‘We’ve got to interview all the family members. We need a clear strategy for this.’

  ‘Luke’s the one with the opportunity,’ says Clough. ‘What’s he like?’

  ‘Serious, smartly dressed, possibly a bit strait-laced,’ says Nelson. ‘Star said that she didn’t want to breastfeed in front of him. Fuller, you interviewed him. What did you think?’

  ‘He still seemed very cut up about Margaret,’ says Tanya. ‘As if nothing was ever the same again after she disappeared. Luke went out searching for Margaret that night. He was with his dad and it sounds as if the dad completely went to pieces. That must have had an effect on Luke. And he seemed a bit negative about Annie, Star’s mother. He said she had anger management problems.’

  ‘Were those his exact words?’ says Judy.

  ‘No,’ says Tanya, with dignity, ‘but he said that she had a temper when she was a child. They were close then but I got the impression that they aren’t now. I mean, he didn’t come rushing down as soon as the bones were found, did he? He did mention Star’s baby to me, said that Annie had recently become a grandmother. He said that Star’s name was really Stella.’

  ‘Carol Dunne, the headteacher, told me that too,’ says Judy. ‘She taught Annie and Luke. Might be worth talking to her again.’

  ‘Do we think this is linked to Margaret in some way?’ asks Clough. ‘I mean, it’s the same family, the day of Margaret’s funeral. Seems too much of a coincidence to me.’

  Nelson is glad to see that the team have absorbed his suspicion of coincidence.

  ‘Do you mean that the person who killed Margaret also abducted Ava?’ says Tanya, ever literal.

  ‘Not necessarily,’ says Clough. ‘For one thing, they would be getting on a bit now. But maybe this is an attack on Star. When I saw her I did think that she looked a bit like pictures of Margaret.’

  Once again, Nelson is impressed. And, now that Clough mentions it, he can see the resemblance. Could there be a link between the two cases?

  ‘We won’t rule anything out,’ he says, turning to the whiteboard. ‘We need to talk to Karen and Pete and to their grown-up sons Bradley and Richard. We need to interview Star’s parents, Annie and David, and Uncle Luke. We also need to talk to Star again. Johnson, are you up to doing that?’

  ‘Of course,’ says Judy.

  ‘Fuller, you take Luke and his wife. Clough, you talk to Karen’s family as you have the rapport there. It goes without saying that time is of the essence. Ava has been missing for twelve hours and she’s only twenty-three days old.’

  He has no trouble calculating Ava’s age because she’s only a day older than George.

  ‘The best we can hope is that someone has taken her, for whatever reason, and is keeping her safe,’ he says. ‘But we need to move fast. I’ll brief Superintendent Archer when she comes in and I expect she’ll want to talk to the press. Until then, no comment.’

  ‘There are already reporters outside,’ says Clough. ‘No sign of Maddie yet.’

  ‘She’ll turn up,’ says Judy.

  ‘No word from Cathbad?’ says Nelson. ‘No psychic insights for us?’ He’s only half-joking.

  ‘He was asleep when I left,’ says Judy.

  Nelson always finds it hard to imagine Cathbad sleeping. Somehow he pictures him hanging from the ceiling like a bat.

  Chapter 26

  Ruth doesn’t hear the news until midway through the morning. And her informant is Cathbad himself. She comes back from a lecture to find him waiting outside her office, in everyday clothing of jeans and a heavy jacket. It reminds her of the time – more than eight years ago now – that she arrived one morning to find Nelson waiting there for her with Phil. ‘This is Detective Chief Inspector Harry Nelson. He wants to talk to
you about a murder.’

  ‘Hi, Cathbad,’ she said, unlocking the door with her card. ‘What brings you here?’

  ‘Have you heard?’ he says. ‘A child has gone missing.’

  ‘A child?’ For a moment, Ruth thinks of George, that swaddled baby in Kate’s arms, her half-brother.

  ‘A relation of Margaret’s, the girl whose remains were found in the stone circle. Judy’s involved in the search. The child, just a baby, a few weeks old, went missing last night. They’re searching the river. Everything.’

  ‘My God,’ says Ruth. ‘How awful. Can it be related to Margaret in any way?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ says Cathbad, sitting in her visitor’s chair. ‘I only had a quick call from Judy. She’s interviewing the baby’s mother now. Poor thing. She’s only twenty-one. Almost a child herself. I know her quite well. She goes to my meditation class.’

  Somehow, thinks Ruth, Cathbad manages to know everyone. But then she thinks of the mother, that primal cord that ties you to your baby, long after the physical umbilicus is cut. What must it be like to have your child wrenched from your arms?

  ‘They’ll find her,’ she says. ‘Nelson will find her.’ She remembers how her thoughts first went to George and, even now, she can’t help feeling that he’s in danger in some way. She is surprised how protective she feels towards Nelson’s baby, the child who, however innocently, came in the way of their happiness. She wonders what Nelson is feeling as he leads the search for this unnamed infant. Then she sees Cathbad’s face and she remembers Michael.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she says. ‘This must bring it all back. How’s Judy coping?’

  ‘She’ll have her professional face on,’ says Cathbad. ‘She won’t show what she’s feeling. But yes, the searching, the waiting, it brings it all back.’

  ‘But Michael was found safe and well,’ says Ruth. ‘Let’s hope this baby is too.’

  ‘I pray to the goddess that she is,’ says Cathbad. ‘But that’s not what I came for. I’ve had a message from Leif. A message from beyond the grave, in a way.’

  ‘You too?’ says Ruth, before she can stop herself.

  Cathbad looks quite put out. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Leif met me here the other day. He read me part of a letter that Erik had left for him. It mentioned me and something about dancing with the stone wedding guests.’

  ‘The letter mentioned me too,’ says Cathbad. ‘Erik said that he was sorry for involving me in his affairs. He wished me well and told me to dance in the stone circle.’

  ‘I think it means Stanton Drew in Somerset,’ says Ruth. ‘It’s a Neolithic stone circle and there’s a local legend that the stones represent a wedding party who danced on the Sabbath. I rang you up to tell you about it but you were out. Teaching your meditation class, actually.’

  ‘I know,’ says Cathbad. ‘Leif’s been researching it too. And he wants you and me to go to Stanton Drew with him tomorrow.’

  ‘Tomorrow?’ says Ruth. ‘Why?’

  ‘I said that it might be difficult for you,’ says Cathbad. ‘For me too, come to that. Judy will probably be working late. I might have to take Miranda with me.’

  ‘It’s a four-hour drive,’ says Ruth. ‘Why can’t we leave it until the weekend?’

  ‘He was very insistent that it has to be tomorrow,’ says Cathbad.

  Ruth thinks. She has no lectures on a Wednesday and, as a matter of fact, Kate has been invited to a sleepover with her best friend Tasha, a midweek treat for Tasha’s birthday. But Leif can’t have known this and she resents the high-handed way that he’s dictating the terms.

  ‘What’s so special about tomorrow?’ she says.

  ‘I don’t know,’ says Cathbad. ‘I just have this feeling . . . I know it’s stupid but I feel that Erik wants us to go. I feel like I’ve been getting messages from him all day. A black cat walking across my path, three magpies in the apple tree, a white feather that just fell into my hand as I walked across the campus just now.’ He opens his palm to show the tiny feather, downy and pale.

  ‘The baby birds are starting to be born,’ says Ruth, ‘that’s all.’

  ‘I know what it is,’ says Cathbad patiently, ‘just not what it means.’

  ‘I’ll think about it,’ says Ruth.

  ‘You do that, Ruthie,’ says Cathbad. ‘Let me know. I’d better be going back now. I’m helping in the school library this afternoon.’

  Ruth feels guilty. She never helps in the school, never goes to PTA meetings, only attends the Christmas fair for long enough to buy a raffle ticket and to let Kate meet Father Christmas (Mr Evans, the Year 6 teacher, in a fat suit). Cathbad, despite his eccentricities, is a valued member of the school community. She really must try harder.

  It’s only when Cathbad has gone that she thinks of the three magpies. Three for a girl.

  *

  Judy sees immediately that Star is still in shock. The girl – she still seems like a girl to Judy – is sitting on the sofa hugging her knees to her body. She is shaking and her eyes have a glazed, unfocused look. Her parents hover around her, clearly not sure what to do.

  Judy sits next to Star. She has already worked out what she will say. It is stepping over the line to offer personal information but, in this case, she thinks it is justified.

  ‘Star,’ she says. ‘I’m Judy. I’m a police officer. We met the other day when I came to talk to your mum.’

  Star looks at her. She has large blue eyes that remind Judy, rather disconcertingly, of Maddie. ‘Ava’s gone,’ she says. ‘My baby’s gone.’

  ‘Star,’ says Judy. ‘Listen to me. I know what you’re going through. My little boy was taken five years ago. It was terrible. I wanted to die. But the police found him. He was fine. He’s seven now.’

  Star says nothing, picking at a thread on her loose trousers – or are they pyjamas? Judy thinks she hasn’t taken her words in but then she says, ‘Who took him? Your little boy?’

  Judy hesitates, not wanting to give a name, although the case was in the papers at the time. ‘Someone who didn’t mean him any harm,’ she says. ‘Someone . . . not quite in their right mind.’

  ‘How did the police find him?’

  ‘By following the clues,’ says Judy. Plus guesswork and a handy medium, she adds silently. ‘That’s why it’s important that you tell me everything that you remember about yesterday. Can you do that?’

  ‘Yes,’ says Star. Judy can hear Star’s parents exhaling with relief behind her. To get them out of the room, she asks for some tea.

  ‘I drink blessed thistle,’ says Star. ‘It’s very good when you’re breastfeeding.’ Her eyes well up again.

  ‘My partner gave me all sorts of herbal infusions when I was breastfeeding,’ says Judy. ‘Most of them were disgusting.’

  Star manages a watery smile.

  ‘So, can you tell me what happened yesterday, from the time you left the wake?’

  ‘I wanted to come back to feed Ava,’ says Star. ‘Normally I just feed her where I am but . . . I don’t know . . . I felt tired and sad after the funeral. I just wanted to be at home with my feet up. Also stuffy Uncle Luke was there and I’m sure he wouldn’t approve of me breastfeeding in public. So I said I wanted to go home and Uncle Luke offered me a lift. He dropped me at the door, wouldn’t even come in, so I just came into the sitting room and fed Ava and left her in her car seat, there by the window. Then . . . Oh God . . . I fell asleep.’

  She starts to rock back and forth. ‘I shouldn’t have gone to sleep. It’s all my fault.’

  ‘It’s not your fault,’ says Judy, ‘but you’ve got to hold it together, OK? For Ava’s sake. Now, who knew you were at home yesterday evening?’

  ‘Mum and Dad, of course. And the rest of the family. Granny and Granddad, Bradley and Richard.’

  ‘Did you text any of your friends? Send a snapchat?’

  ‘No,’ says Star. ‘I don’t even have a smartphone. I don’t approve of them really.’

  Once agai
n, Judy is reminded of Maddie, that high-minded earnestness, charming in the young, less charming when it crystallises into prejudice later.

  ‘Do you have a boyfriend?’ she asks. ‘What about Ava’s dad?’

  ‘Ryan? We’re not together any more.’

  ‘Does he know about Ava going missing?’ Judy thinks of the time when Michael was abducted, the added strain of having his two fathers at her side, all of them suffering in their different ways.

  ‘I think he’s abroad,’ says Star vaguely. ‘He hasn’t even seen Ava yet.’

  ‘What about a boyfriend?’

  For the first time, some colour seeps into Ava’s cheeks. ‘There is someone. I met him at my meditation class.’

  ‘You go to meditation classes?’

  ‘Yes, at the community centre. I met Leif there.’

  ‘Leif?’ Judy’s knows that her tone is too sharp.

  ‘Yes, Leif Anderssen. He’s an archaeologist. Do you know him?’

  ‘Slightly. How long have you been going out with him?’

  ‘Oh, we’re not going out,’ says Star and Judy remembers that this means something different to the new generation. She’s vague about the stages: hooking up, hanging out, being exclusive. Judy’s thirty-six and she’s only had two serious relationships in her life.

  ‘When did you last see Leif?’

  ‘Last week. He met me after my class. We went for a drink but I had to come back because of Ava.’

  ‘We’ll need to speak to Leif and any other close friends,’ says Judy. ‘Can you make me a list?’

  ‘OK,’ says Star. She is sitting up and the shivering has stopped. Annie, coming into the room with the tea, says, ‘Oh you do look better, sweetheart.’ Judy thinks that Annie looks almost as harrowed as her daughter; there are dark circles under her eyes and the tray is jangling in her hands.

  Star sips her blessed thistle tea. ‘My boobs are agony,’ she says. ‘I’ll have to express.’

  ‘Do you often express?’ says Judy. ‘Where do you keep it?’