The Silent Children

by Carol Wyer

  Icy eyes glared at Robyn. ‘I know her.’

  ‘Have you spoken to her in recent weeks?’ asked Robyn.

  The room was filled with a high-pitched laugh. ‘Why would I want to talk to her?’

  ‘I was hoping you might tell me.’

  Naomi crossed her arms. ‘I have nothing to say.’

  Matt, who sat adjacent to Robyn, pushed across a photocopied piece of A4 containing a list of phone numbers. One was highlighted in green. ‘Is that your phone number?’

  Naomi’s eyelids fluttered several times before she nodded.

  ‘I’m going to ask you again, have you spoken to Tessa in recent weeks or contacted her?’

  Naomi remained button-lipped.

  ‘Miss Povey, you’re not helping yourself by keeping quiet. If you continue to refuse to answer my questions, I’ll have to consider your silence as suspicious. We’re dealing with a murder enquiry here. I don’t need to tell you how serious that is. Why did you and Tessa message each other in January this year?’

  Naomi almost spat her reply. ‘The bitch was seeing Roger. He denied it but I knew he was. I found a text message from her on his phone that proved they were having an affair. I copied down her number and then I challenged her over it.’

  ‘You believed they were having an affair?’

  ‘I know they were. I told her I was going to come over and rip her fucking head off if she kept seeing him. It’s not like she cared about him. She was nothing but a tart, throwing herself at every bloke in the pub. I saw her in action when I went along one night – smug little bitch.’

  ‘You threatened her?’

  ‘Yes. It was the only way to get her to understand I wasn’t going to give him up.’

  ‘Did she confess to the affair?’

  ‘Eventually. She was so full of herself. She said Roger would always choose her over me so I’d better piss off and leave her alone. I wasn’t having that. I’ve known Roger a long time. I know her sort. I’ve met plenty like her in my life. She’d have led him on and dropped him as soon as she found a new bloke to chase after. I wasn’t going to let her do that to Roger. He’s already suffered one horrible break-up. I helped him through that, not her. We’re good together. I’ve been there for him when he’s been at rock bottom. I wasn’t going to give up without a fight. I told her I’d make sure everyone at her work knew she was a slag who stole boyfriends and husbands. I promised to make her life a misery. In the end, she said she didn’t give a shit any more, that she wasn’t interested in him. Shows how little she really cared – the bitch.’

  Naomi’s lips pressed together in a thin line and Robyn wondered how Roger Jenkinson could be attracted to two such different women.

  ‘And I have to ask you this, to eliminate you from our enquiries, where were you Thursday morning?’

  ‘At work at the JCB factory outside Uttoxeter. I went on shift at seven.’

  If Naomi’s alibi bore out, it was still possible for her to have travelled to Tessa’s house in Barton-under-Needwood, some thirty minutes away, kill her and return in time for her shift.

  ‘And for the record, I haven’t told Roger I know about his fling with Tessa. Some things are best kept secret,’ said Naomi.

  Robyn chewed over her words. Here was another person keeping secrets: first Henry, then Tessa and now Naomi. It prompted her next question.

  ‘Do you know Henry or Lauren Gregson?’

  ‘Can’t say I do. Not names I recognise.’

  ‘Sergeant Higham, can you show Miss Povey the photographs?’

  Matt rummaged in the file he’d brought into the room and slid photographs of the couple across the table.

  Naomi studied them carefully and shook her head again. ‘I definitely don’t know them.’

  ‘They never turned up to any of the quizzes?’

  ‘Not when I was there.’

  ‘Were you at work on Tuesday the fourteenth?’ Matt glanced quickly in Robyn’s direction but she ignored his look.

  ‘Am I under suspicion for a crime?’

  ‘I’d like to know where you were, please, Miss Povey.’

  ‘I took the day off.’ Naomi’s eyelids fluttered quickly. ‘I got up at eight, did some housework and then went to Tesco to get something nice for dinner. I was cooking a meal for us both for Valentine’s Day. Do you want me to drag in the checkout girl to prove I was there?’

  Robyn gave a tight smile. ‘I don’t think that’ll be necessary. Going back to Thursday the sixteenth, you said your shift at JCB began at seven.’

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘And before that you’d have been getting ready to go to work?’

  ‘Isn’t that what people normally do? Look, where are you going with this?’

  Robyn wondered if she should push for more details, but decided she had little to gain by riling Naomi. ‘Have you heard from Roger recently? We’d like to talk to him.’

  ‘He was in one of his moods – he gets them from time to time. We call them his dark moods. When they come on, he usually goes up to the Peak District. He spends time outside, getting his head straight. I spoke to him on Friday evening and he was definitely out of sorts. I could tell by his voice. I usually leave him alone when he gets like that. He snaps out of it again. He has a stall at Lichfield market on a Thursday, so he’ll be back for that. He can’t afford to miss a market day.’

  ‘Any idea where he might be in the Peak District? Does he favour an area in particular?’

  ‘Roger loves all the great outdoors. Me, I hate it. I like shooting clays but I don’t like living under canvas and walking over muddy trails in the rain and wind. I’ve never even been to the Peak District, so no, I have no idea.’

  ‘You’ve known him a while?’

  ‘About five years. We met at Bramshall Leisure. Used to shoot together. He was the best male shot there. Pity he gave it up. I keep telling him to take it up again, but he can’t afford the club fees. I offered to pay them for him, but he won’t let me. Says he can’t accept charity. Shame, because we used to have a lot of fun together there.’

  ‘If he rings you, will you let us know, please?’

  Naomi nodded.

  ‘I think that’s everything for now.’

  Naomi rose at the same time as Robyn. She only came up to Robyn’s shoulders. Her face was expressionless. ‘I didn’t like Tessa but I had no reason to kill her. She dumped him. I got what I wanted. I didn’t need to kill her.’

  She picked up her coat and snorted. ‘Tessa was always trouble. Even now she’s dead, she’s still causing it.’

  Matt escorted her from the room and earned a glower for his efforts.

  As she returned to her office, Robyn reflected on those words and decided Naomi bore enough of a grudge, especially if she knew about the baby, to have murdered Tessa.

  Forty-One

  DAY SEVEN – MONDAY, 20 FEBRUARY, AFTERNOON

  * * *

  With Shearer and his men in the office, and her team fully occupied, Robyn headed downstairs to the staff locker room to change into her running gear. She needed to collect her thoughts, and running usually allowed her to ruminate.

  She pounded the empty pavements, past Stafford Hospital, hidden behind thick bushes, and the large university campus, dotted with flats and large brick buildings, where Harry McKenzie worked, before turning into a road that would pass housing estates and Leafy Lane, where she lived. She’d run this same route more times than she cared to remember. It would take her thirty minutes in total; time enough to reflect on what she knew.

  Lost in thought, she didn’t register her surroundings. As she ran, they became a familiar blur of front gardens, houses and parked cars. Her focus was on Henry and Tessa. Both had kept secrets. Both were dead. Had Henry and Tessa been involved in a relationship, or was Roger the father of Tessa’s baby? The questions mounted up and still she couldn’t find the answers.

  She leapt from a pavement, jogged across the road and bounded onto the opposite pavement
that led to her home. She ran on, oblivious to the black BMW parked behind a silver van opposite her house, her mind now on Henry’s friend, Liam, and his partner Ella. Ella had disliked Tessa too. Like Naomi, she’d warned Tessa off her man. Jealousy and love – two very powerful emotions that drove people to commit heinous acts.

  Seeing Schrödinger wasn’t in his usual spot on the window ledge, she drew to a halt on a whim and decided to check on him. It wouldn’t take a minute.

  She slipped the key into the door and called for him. When he didn’t appear, she went inside, removed her trainers and checked the sitting room and kitchen before heading upstairs. She found him languishing on her bed, where he stretched indolently and then purred contentedly as she lifted him to her face.

  ‘You lazy boy,’ she murmured, planting a kiss on his head. Cradling him against her, she stood in front of her bedroom window and gazed onto the garden below. It wasn’t much of a garden, but if she put some effort into it in springtime, she and Schrödinger would be able to enjoy it in the sunshine. She was about to return him to the warm spot on the bed when a movement outside caught her eye and she froze. A man in dark clothing was slipping back out from the garden, through the side gate that led onto the street.

  She put down the cat and bounded down the stairs to catch up with the intruder. She raced out the front door in her socks and onto the pavement, but was in time only to see the rear end of a BMW pull away and join the main road.

  She cursed loudly and returned inside, pulled on her trainers and checked to see if the back gate had been forced open. It hadn’t. However, it was unlocked, and Robyn was certain she hadn’t left it like that. With shaking hands, she rang Ross.

  ‘Hey,’ said Ross.

  ‘Somebody broke into my back garden and was hanging about outside the house. I came home unexpectedly and frightened them off, I think. Might have been a burglar, but I’ve got a bad feeling about it. The back gate was unlocked. I ran after him but he’d gone. I couldn’t see anyone, only a black BMW. It pulled out of my road and into traffic, headed towards the town centre.’

  ‘Registration?’

  ‘I didn’t get it. Shit, Ross, I was so shocked I couldn’t think straight and I wasn’t quick enough. I caught sight of the person but only for a second. Ross, I think it could have been Davies. He was about the same height and had dark hair.’

  ‘Robyn, calm down. If it’d been Davies, why would he have sped off?’

  ‘Oh, for fuck’s sake! You’re right. I’m behaving like a madwoman. It’s because of what Amélie told me.’

  ‘Well, you can put that out of your mind. I’m over at the CineBowl at the moment, and I’ve shown his photograph to almost everyone who works here. No one has recognised him, or seen him here. Amélie was imagining it. Much like you. It happens.’

  ‘Yeah. I guess so.’

  ‘You probably disturbed somebody casing out your place for a robbery, or a chancer. I’m going to come round and install some top-of-the-range spy cameras. I’ll put one inside the house and another outside. That way, if anybody else comes around, we’ll see who it is.’

  ‘Would you? I’ll pay you for them.’

  ‘I’ll give you a generous, ex-employee discount,’ he joked. ‘Seriously, I’m concerned somebody’s got into your garden. That lock on the gate is one of the most sophisticated on the market, and totally impregnable. I can’t see how they unlocked it.’

  ‘Do you think he could be somebody connected to Davies? The photo… the flowers… and now he’s checking out my home.’

  ‘Let’s not jump to conclusions. We’ll treat it as a potential break-in for the moment. I’ll see if there are any fingerprints or other clues left behind. Don’t worry. I’ll come over immediately. I’ve got your spare house key, so you don’t need to stay at home. I’ll fit the spy surveillance cameras. You know how they work, don’t you?’

  ‘Are they the same ones we used when I worked with you?’ Robyn had spent a year working with her cousin before returning to the force and it had been exactly what she needed to get back on her feet.

  ‘The very same.’

  ‘Oh, fuck it, Ross. I don’t need this shit.’

  Ross’s voice was calming. ‘Come on, Robyn, this is nothing compared to what you’ve faced in the past. We’re probably reading too much into it. You might have forgotten to lock the gate, what with your mind on other things. It could have been no more than an opportunist who tried your gate, found it open and wandered in to see what he could steal. He saw you and ran away.’

  Robyn huffed. Had she locked the gate? She couldn’t remember the last time she’d used it. Was it when she took the wheelie bin out, last Wednesday? They’d been really busy with the investigation that day. She might have forgotten to secure the gate in her haste to get to the office.

  ‘What about the BMW? It seemed to speed off.’

  ‘Cars go up and down your road all the time at speed. Might not be connected in any way at all.’

  Robyn rubbed at her forehead. Her hand was clammy now with sweat and exertion. ‘Yeah. You could be right. I’m getting worked up. It was such a shock. That’s all. If I hadn’t stopped off, he might have broken into the house.’

  ‘Well, he’d not have stolen anything. You’ve got that top-of-the-range house alarm fitted, haven’t you? That would’ve gone off.’

  ‘It wasn’t turned on. I didn’t alarm the place because of the cat.’

  ‘Robyn!’ Ross sounded exasperated. ‘You need to take more care.’

  ‘I know. I wasn’t thinking clearly. My mind’s been on the investigations.’

  Ross sighed. ‘There’s a setting that allows pets to move around the house freely and not trigger the alarm. I’ll programme it for you. First, I’ll head to the office, collect the cameras and then get cracking. Want me to get that gate lock changed while I’m at it?’

  ‘Would you? It’ll give me peace of mind. Thanks, Ross. You’re a diamond.’

  ‘Take it easy, Robyn,’ said Ross, his voice filled with concern. ‘I don’t want to see you go backwards again.’

  ‘I won’t. Not with you on my side.’

  Robyn disconnected and shoved the phone back in her pocket, furious that she’d been sideswiped like that.

  As she jogged back into the station car park, she tried hard to turn her attention back to the investigations and put the intruder and black BMW out of her mind.

  * * *

  Robyn was copying a report when David joined her by the photocopier. His brows were knitted together.

  ‘We got hold of Roger Jenkinson at last. He’s on his way to be interviewed. I came across something of interest on the general police database about him. He was an animal rights activist. He was charged back in 2004 for protesting against Newchurch guinea pig farm,’ he said.

  ‘I remember those protests. There was an outcry about testing on the animals. It was all over the news.’

  ‘He was also suspected of digging up the remains of one of the guinea pig farm’s ancestors. That charge didn’t stick. He’s known to police for various break-ins and property damage on farms, notably those associated with controversial methods of raising animals, overcrowded turkey sheds, that sort of thing. His wife filed for divorce in 2014, on the grounds of unreasonable behaviour. Claimed Jenkinson threatened her with physical violence and was abusive.’

  ‘A man with an aggressive nature who was also a member of a shooting club. That rings some alarm bells for me, David.’

  ‘Then this will ring them more.’ He tapped at a note in his book. ‘He was also accused of possession of a firearm in 2014. Used it to ward off an intruder, who reported him to the police. Police, due to insufficient evidence to support the intruder’s claim, dismissed the accusation. Jenkinson firmly denied the incident and no firearm was found on his property. I’ve requested further details. I’ll let you know as soon as I get a response.’

  Robyn collected her copies and slid back behind her desk. Outside, the skies had darken
ed again and rain splattered against the windows, leaving silvery trails that slid down the panes of glass like thick slugs. She hated days like this. They sapped her energy. Anna, at the back of the office, pushed away from her desk and approached Robyn.

  ‘You might like to read this. It’s an unofficial statement from the landlord at the Goat pub in Abbots Bromley. He hosted the final quiz that year. I rang him when I was checking to confirm Tessa and Justin had met at the pub as he said. I left a message for the landlord to call me. He only got back to me this morning. He said he wouldn’t normally have remembered such a thing but was excited about a journalist covering his quiz. He saw them sitting in a corner together after the quiz, before leaving the pub together, and then he told me about Roger Jenkinson and Anthony Hawkins. They had an argument. Landlord had to break it up before it got out of hand. It’s all there.’ Robyn read the statement before shaking her head in dismay.

  The desk phone trilled. David picked up the receiver. ‘Yep. Thanks. Jenkinson’s here. Interview room one, guv.’

  Robyn signalled across the room. ‘Matt. Come on. Let’s see what he has to say for himself.’

  * * *

  Roger Jenkinson was a stocky, wide-shouldered, self-assured individual, with ruddy cheeks and a thick thatch of dark hair. His air was one of defiance, legs apart, arms folded.

  Robyn began by asking where he’d been while they’d been trying to contact him.

  ‘In the Peak District. I like to lose myself up there some days. I don’t take my phone when I go. It’s a good place to take stock of your life. Got back about ten this morning.’

  ‘You camped out up there?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘It’s an unusual time of the year to go camping. Wasn’t it very wet and cold?’

  He gave a disparaging snort. ‘I’m hardy. Rain doesn’t bother me. Nor cold. I had my thermals. I dried out in the pub – the Farmhouse Inn. Had a pint and a bite to eat there.’

  Robyn made a note to check out his whereabouts.