The Lost

by Mari Hannah

  They drove on in silence, leaving the city behind. Northumbria force area was so diverse: a patch that included a party city that had undergone widespread regeneration in recent years, the windswept Northumberland countryside, stunning coastline, villages and market towns, a landscape unchanged for centuries. The land was as much a character as the locals.

  ‘Andrea’s nice,’ Stone said.

  ‘She’s great.’

  ‘Known her long?’

  ‘Oh yeah, we go way back. We were at training school together, roommates too. We’re practically sisters. She’s a great laugh, a good copper too. Even my old man thinks so, though half the time he’s only saying that to wind me up. You know what dads are like: someone else’s offspring is always cleverer, funnier, more exciting. No wonder I feel like the poor relation. You should hear him: Andrea this, Andrea that.’ Frankie stuck her fingers down her throat, making Stone laugh.

  ‘She’s a pro,’ he said.

  ‘Is that a euphemism for seriously hot?’

  ‘No!’ Stone could feel himself blushing. ‘I meant what I said. If her team had been content to log Justine’s death as an accident, we’d be whistling for witnesses now. As it is, they had the good sense to record vehicle licence numbers and take note of everyone arriving on the scene, by car or on foot. We’ll have to speak to them all, starting with the two drivers directly involved.’ He glanced at Frankie. ‘Did you two ever work together?’

  Frankie shook her head. ‘After our probationary period, she applied to be a motorcycle cop, where she remained until the bike fleet was scrapped on grounds of health and safety – the worst day of her life, to hear her tell it. Years on, she mentions it at every opportunity.’

  ‘I should have thought bikes were an essential resource. They were in the Met. We relied on them for a quick response.’

  ‘I agree. To add insult to injury, a few days after they were decommissioned here, Durham motorcycle riders were utilised to provide outriders for a visit by Gordon Brown to the region. Andrea was furious.’

  ‘Where did she go?’

  ‘Oh, she remained in her motor patrol unit, then worked her way up to lead her present team. She’s been there ever since.’ An email alert interrupted Frankie in full flight. ‘Ha! How spooky is that? It’s Wonder Woman. She’s sent photographic evidence from the crime scene.’ Frankie checked the accompanying text. ‘Witness statements will be uploaded on HOLMES before the day is out.’ She grinned at Stone. Andrea McGovern was the real deal.

  32

  The phone had been ringing off the hook for what seemed like hours to Alex: one mumbled condolence message after another, more sympathy than she could reasonably stomach. Since he’d got home from school, she’d coaxed Daniel into the living room, sat him down in front of their smart TV with a bowl of snacks, where there was less chance of him overhearing the conversations she was having with local people and, more importantly, with Tim.

  ‘Do you think we should be worried for our safety?’ she whispered, keeping one eye on her son. She ran a hand through her hair, holding it off her face for a second before letting go. ‘I mean, first Daniel, now Justine, what next?’

  Tim looked at her oddly. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘You heard Inspector McGovern. Justine’s death is “unexplained”. What she really meant was suspicious. You know how people talk, Tim. It’s all over the village. Jesus, Justine was a foreigner in our care and now she’s dead. I can’t imagine what her family will think of us when they’re told.’

  Her husband was unresponsive.

  He’d been showing signs of acute stress lately – and now it seemed he’d lost the plot. On the back of losing their baby, Daniel’s disappearance had hit him hard. Even since they got Daniel home and the detectives had gone away, Tim hadn’t managed to relax, let alone return to normal. And McGovern turning up, asking to come inside, had only served to make matters worse. He simply hadn’t been able to cope. He was spiralling out of control, drinking anything he could get his hands on, acting weird.

  She tried again. ‘You haven’t upset anyone, have you? At work, I mean?’

  ‘What? No!’

  ‘Don’t look at me as if it was a ridiculous question. You’re hardly opposed to a bit of sharp practice, are you?’

  He smirked. ‘You taught me well.’

  ‘If you’re looking for a scapegoat,’ Alex said. ‘Try your friend, Curtis. That slug inveigled his way into your firm and you stood by and let him. Something’s going on between the two of you, I can feel it. If you have reason to suspect it has anything to do with what’s happening to us, have the guts to share it so we can tell the police. I won’t have Daniel put at risk.’

  ‘Oh, it’s all about him, isn’t it? Let’s not upset our precious boy—’

  ‘You spiteful sod! Would you feel differently if he was your kid?’

  ‘Fuck off!’

  A brief glance into the living room from Alex. ‘Will you keep it down?’

  ‘Relax, he can’t hear a thing.’

  The words were hardly out of his mouth when Daniel glanced over his shoulder, his noise-cancelling headphones far too large for the size of his skull. He’d sensed the tension going on behind him and was very protective where Alex was concerned. She managed a smile which he seemed to accept before refocusing on The Good Dinosaur, the movie animation he was watching.

  Alex dropped her voice. ‘Do you think we’re in danger?’

  He glared at her. ‘That’s right, pile on the agony. Things are bad enough. I could do without your pessimism. We are well covered. This place is like the Bank of England vault. You insisted, remember? State-of-the-art security because of the isolated location, you said. No one will get past that, you said. We’ll all be safe here, you said. What do you want me to do? Sit at the front door with Daddy’s shotgun?’

  Alex gave him hard eyes. It was a hurtful thing to say and well he knew it. She adored her parents and they her. Tim took it back immediately, tripping over himself to apologise. They were both distraught. Fighting with each other wasn’t helping. He drained his beer, then opened another can.

  Alex gave him a derisory look.

  ‘What’s that for?’

  ‘Please stop . . .’ She pointed at the glass in his hand. ‘I don’t want you drinking to excess in front of Daniel during the day. You know how nervous it makes him.’

  ‘That wasn’t what you were going to say—’

  ‘You’re right, it wasn’t.’

  ‘Go on then, spit it out.’

  Alex hesitated. ‘I was wondering if our high security explains why Justine was attacked outdoors. If they couldn’t get to her here, that might explain why they killed her elsewhere.’

  ‘They? Who the fuck are “they”?’

  ‘I don’t know . . . I’m scared, Tim.’

  ‘Don’t be such a drama queen.’ Her husband was angry now but also on edge, psychologically traumatised by recent goings on. ‘And who said anything about Justine being attacked? The police said she was run over. Will you listen to yourself? You’re making the facts up as you go along. Your interpretation of “unexplained” is based on local gossip and innuendo by village idiots who have nothing better to talk about. You surprise me, Alex, you really do.’

  ‘You’re wrong,’ she said. ‘There were witnesses—’

  Tim froze, taking the glass away from his mouth. ‘Says who?’

  ‘Marjorie, the old dear who lives in that row of cottages on the main road. The police told her that Justine was lying in the road on her back, unconscious, when—’ Alex convulsed at the thought of what happened next. Her eyes flew to the door as a shadowy figure arrived. Someone was standing right outside.

  33

  Frankie grabbed Stone’s arm as he raised it to ring the bell, pulling him away from the door. ‘Mind if I take him and you take her, guv? Parker
is wary of me, I can feel it.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘It might be because I had my hands round his neck when we last spoke, figuratively speaking. That’s no bad thing. I had him on the rails and that’s exactly where I want him.’

  ‘This is not a game, Frankie.’

  ‘Did I say it was?’

  ‘He may be innocent.’

  ‘Of screwing Justine? Not a chance. I saw lingering looks, even if you didn’t, and we both heard her voice message. That was nasty, an exchange between two people who know each other intimately in my opinion. Parker is a looker, he’s also rich and powerful, thanks to Alex’s money – an attractive combination to some. I reckon he turned on the charm and the au pair fell for it. Whether he killed her or not is another matter . . .’

  Alex opened the door and peered out, narrowing her eyes against bright sunshine. Stone gave his condolences, asking if they could come inside and talk. He registered her surprise. For a moment, she stood there motionless. She was probably expecting McGovern, who’d informed them of Justine’s death earlier in the day.

  ‘We’d like to speak to you regarding Justine,’ Frankie explained. ‘DI Stone and I are looking into the circumstances surrounding her death.’

  Alex opened the door wider, inviting them in.

  ‘Could we adjourn to my office?’ She quickly head-checked the living room. Daniel was engrossed in his film. ‘Daniel has no clue of what’s happened. Do you mind if I check in on him first?’

  Stone nodded and she left them for a moment to speak to her son. Seconds later, she showed them into a large room off the hallway, the walls of which were lined with books – most, though not all, to do with public relations. Several, Frankie noticed, Alex had written herself.

  Tim Parker hadn’t said a word since they arrived. It looked like the couple weren’t on speaking terms and the detectives wondered why. If Alex had shed a tear over the sudden death of her au pair, it didn’t show. That wasn’t surprising. Her husband was a complete mess, though, no help to her whatsoever. When kids were in the house, someone had to hold it together. Still, as family dramas go, this was seismic, the second in a week.

  ‘It might be wise to tell Daniel of Justine’s death immediately.’ Stone was looking at Alex. ‘As his mother, this must be your decision, of course, but do bear in mind that he’ll find out what’s happened on the news, in the local press, from kids at school . . . My advice would be to get it over with now.’

  ‘We’ll tell him when we see fit,’ Tim snapped.

  ‘Sir, it would be a mistake to leave it.’

  ‘Why so?’ Alex asked.

  ‘The pathologist has ruled out accidental death. We’re now treating the incident as murder.’ The DI’s comment drew no reaction from Tim or Alex, barring an exchange of glances. ‘Daniel is a bright boy. He’ll guess something is up. He’ll be angry if he finds out from a third party. They were close and you won’t want him hearing it from someone else.’

  Frankie took Tim Parker into the dining room next door, Stone and Alex remaining in her study. A switch was thrown in David’s head as soon as the door was closed. Once they were alone, Alex dropped her coping routine. Tears misted her eyes, that same beseeching gaze, a desperate plea for help. She appeared as shaken by Justine’s death as her husband. Their stoicism seemed unnatural. Maybe they were both scared witless.

  Stone was mesmerised by Alex Parker and, for a moment, couldn’t speak.

  Alex opened French doors leading into the garden and locked them into place. When she came inside, she moved towards the drinks fridge, took out two bottles of rose lemonade Stone happened to know was botanically brewed in Hexham, twenty miles away.

  She handed him a bottle and a tumbler, then pointed through the open door.

  ‘Shall we?’

  ‘I’d as soon talk to you here,’ the DI said.

  ‘As you wish.’ She took the seat nearest to the door, unscrewed the bottle top and poured the liquid into her glass. Ignoring his, Stone took a notebook from his inside breast pocket in case he wanted to jot anything down. He hadn’t come to get pally.

  ‘When did you last see Justine?’ he asked.

  ‘At around two, two thirty, maybe a little after. I was working on a presentation. She came in to make sure that I was happy to pick Daniel up from the RGS. I said I was and she left.’

  ‘You knew she’d gone jogging?’

  ‘I assumed so: she was dressed for it, though I never saw her leave. I wouldn’t necessarily – she has her own front door.’

  ‘She wasn’t working today?’

  ‘No, I’d given her the week off. In view of the shock we had over Daniel, I wanted to collect him from school myself and spend time with him before I return to work. I took him swimming and then out for tea at Francesca’s in Jesmond, his favourite pizzeria.’

  ‘So, it was unusual for Justine to have a Wednesday afternoon off?’

  ‘Yes, it was. I thought she might go home, but her parents are away somewhere. Her half-day is normally a Monday when Daniel has a violin lesson after school. I pick him up myself on my way home from work. I have an office in the city by the law courts. We usually do something together if Tim is away and we don’t have to rush back.’ She paused, a worried expression. ‘Do you have any reason to suspect that Justine was followed from here?’

  ‘Not if Wednesday was a break from her normal routine. Why do you ask?’

  ‘Why do you think? I don’t believe in coincidence. Do you?’

  Stone didn’t answer. He could see where she was heading. Alex Parker was no fool.

  ‘I’m afraid we’re being targeted,’ she said. ‘I was saying the same thing to my husband shortly before you arrived. Naturally, I’m concerned for our safety. Are we in danger, in your opinion?’

  ‘I wish I could give you a definitive answer,’ Stone said. ‘I don’t want you to worry. I think it more likely Justine was the target, not you. All options will be investigated thoroughly.’

  ‘Thank you, Detective Inspector.’

  ‘Did Justine jog much?’

  ‘Every other day. She was training for a half-marathon.’

  ‘How would she normally spend her days off?’

  ‘We never saw her for dust. On the one hand, she was quite studious. She used to read a lot, go to the cinema, with or without Daniel. On the other, she wanted company of people her own age, I expect. She was always on her phone. She’d built up a big circle of friends down south, I believe. Her former employer was more generous than we are regarding time off . . . not that she ever complained.’

  ‘And here?’

  ‘You saw her, Inspector. She was a magnet.’

  ‘An extrovert would you say?’

  ‘Absolutely.’

  ‘Strange, that’s not how she came across in interview . . . If anything, I found her a little closed off. Did her friends ever come to the house?’

  ‘Not that I’m aware.’ Alex looked uncomfortable.

  ‘Well, did they, or didn’t they?’

  ‘No. Socialising here was not something Tim and I encouraged. We work from home sometimes. He made that quite clear when he interviewed her for the job. She seemed not to mind. I think she would’ve said so if that had been the case.’

  ‘Can I ask you where you were at around three o’clock today?’

  ‘I was here.’ Tim Parker relaxed in his chair. He lifted his can to his lips, studying Frankie over the top of it. Even through beer goggles he didn’t like her and he’d made up his mind that the feeling was mutual.

  Frankie lifted the nib of her pen from the pad she’d been scribbling on. ‘A day off?’ she said.

  ‘In a manner of speaking.’ He raised his can. ‘Unfit for duty, ma’am. Guilty as charged.’

  Well, he was right about that. It had Frankie wondering why. Three scenarios played out in her head. One: he was being
targeted by person or persons unknown – a creditor, perhaps – was scared to death and had chosen booze as a coping mechanism, an attempt to dumb down his anxiety. If that was the case, it wasn’t working. Two: Justine had threatened to tell his wife about their affair, he’d lost his temper in drink, followed her from the house and done for her. Three: stone-cold sober, he’d murdered the au pair to cover up their affair, and his abuse of alcohol was driven by guilt.

  Frankie never took her eyes off him. ‘Can anyone verify that?’

  ‘My wife . . . until she left to pick up Daniel.’ Frankie was about to ask at what time she left when Parker volunteered the information. ‘It must have been at around three, perhaps a little later.’

  ‘Did you actually see her leave?’

  A nod. ‘She came in to say she was off. I was in my study.’

  ‘It must’ve been a shock to hear of Justine’s death.’

  ‘Of course.’

  Frankie noticed the flicker of sadness in his eyes. For a moment, she thought he might lose his cool. He recovered quickly, taking another long pull on his beer. He was trying to give the impression of cooperation but was seething underneath. He’d rather have been interviewed by Stone. Too bad, Frankie thought. I’m in the driving seat. She continued: ‘Justine lived in the annex, didn’t she?’

  ‘Yes. She was very happy there. It gave her, and us, some space. Had she lived, we expected her to stay with us for very long time. She was fantastic with Daniel and a great help to us, like her predecessor, Maria.’

  The Parkers’ former au pair had come up in conversation when Stone and Frankie were discussing who might have taken Daniel. Who better than a disgruntled ex-employee who loved the boy? Daniel’s return home had meant this line of enquiry had been abandoned, but with Justine dead, Maria would now be asked to give an account of her whereabouts and, if she couldn’t do so, would be investigated as a possible suspect.