by Carol Wyer
‘I don’t suppose Jeanette was that annoyed. It’s not in her nature to get cross with you over work. More likely annoyed that you had been scoffing large bags of crisps while on watch. You did, didn’t you? You really are going to have to get on board with these lifestyle changes she’s implementing or you won’t see sixty.’
Ross made a harrumphing noise, indicating the subject was closed.
‘I’ll go to the football match on Saturday and take photographs of Smith. There’s a new case if you want to take it,’ he said. ‘I know you are returning to Staffordshire Police imminently but it looks like I’m stuck with Robert Brannigan for some time yet and can’t get started on it. And it’s an urgent case. Trailing Robert is a dull job, especially if he isn’t having an affair at all. I’ll have to follow him around all the pubs in the area. Still, I suppose it’s more interesting than being an accountant, or a window cleaner, or a train driver…’
Robyn held up her hand to stop his meanderings. ‘I’ve got the idea. So what’s this case? Will I have time to see it through before I start work again for the police?’
He dropped a piece of paper onto her desk. ‘Possibly not. It’s a missing husband. Lucas Matthews, aged thirty. His wife says he’s been gone almost two weeks. She’s not keen to contact the police, which seems a bit curious. I explained you are a DI who is working temporarily with me, and after a while she said she’d talk to you first. She doesn’t want to officially report him missing until she’s spoken to you. Apparently, he often goes away but this time it’s different. He’s not been in contact. Be something fresh to get your teeth into and hopefully a darn sight more interesting than chasing around after fraudulent insurance-claim cases. If you could at least get started on it while I deal with Bob, then I’ll take over. You’ve got a few days before you return to the fold. The wife sounded desperate.’
‘Okay. But you already knew I’d say that, didn’t you?’
Ross gave her a sheepish grin. ‘I thought it would pique your interest.’
Robyn tilted back on her chair and levelled her gaze at her cousin. He was clearing his throat as he did when he was about to say something he didn’t want to say. He scrubbed a hand across his face, as if he was trying to rub some life into it.
‘On another matter, Jeanette is a little concerned about you. We both are.’
It came out in a rush, his eyebrows high apologetic arches.
‘You have no need to be worried.’
‘She thinks you’re losing weight again and not eating properly. She’s been blaming me for putting you on these long hours. You sure you’re ready to return to the force?’
Robyn studied her fingernails intently before replying. ‘I’m ready. It’s been great doing this job with you but I need to get my teeth into more juicy cases. I need more stimulation. You understand, don’t you? No offence. And I am fine. Just been training harder than usual. Helps to numb the pain.’
Ross nodded his affirmation. ‘That’s what I told her. I know you’ve been going to the gym after work. I figured out the reason. You see, I’m not a bad detective. All those years working for the Staffordshire Police have paid off. I can still sniff out trouble and can still spot all the clues, although it didn’t take a great brain to work out you’d be feeling low at this time. Jeanette wants to know if you’d like to come round for dinner at the weekend. She’s planning on making one of her special lasagne dishes. The one filled with artery-clogging béchamel sauce and juicy mincemeat.’
‘I thought you were supposed to be eating healthily.’
‘It’s a treat for doing so well with my e-cigarettes. Man has to have his little treats. So will you join us?’
‘Thanks. I’d love to.’
She knew Jeanette would have planned the meal deliberately. This weekend marked the anniversary of the death of Robyn and Davies’s daughter. It made no difference that she had only been nine weeks and probably weighed no more than three grams. She would have resembled a very tiny human being, complete with internal organs. Robyn fought back the memory. She swung her chair back, rose in one swift movement and, grabbing her car keys, picked up the paper and said, ‘Right, that’s sorted. I’ll get onto this case straight away. I’ll call Matthews en route.’
She tossed the Smith file onto his desk, gave Ross a quick peck on the cheek, mumbled her thanks and disappeared out of the door. Ross pulled out his e-cigarette and dragged thoughtfully on it, before opening a drawer in his desk and pulling out a packet of biscuits.
* * *
Mulwood Avenue was grand, lined with leafy mulberry trees and bordered by wide pavements. This was an upmarket neighbourhood with large residences hidden behind high brick walls and gated entrances. Robyn arrived at number thirty-three and pressed the intercom button, staring directly into the camera placed strategically above it. A buzzer sounded and the imposing gates creaked open inch by inch to reveal a characterless, modern, detached house. Somebody had attempted to give it some individuality by creating a large, stained-glass window to one side of the front door. Robyn pulled up beside the new BMW cabriolet standing on the drive and crunched over gravel to the door where she was met by frenzied barking. A woman’s voice shouted, ‘Just a moment. I need to put the dog in the kitchen.’ This was followed by various commands to the small animal that was clearly reluctant to be dragged away.
Finally, the door opened to reveal a woman in her fifties, plump and homely, her blonde hair cut in a severe bob that only just reached her ears. Dressed in a yellow top and leggings that clung to chunky legs, she welcomed Robyn and beckoned her into the sitting room, filled with floral upholstery and far too many ornaments for Robyn’s taste. The walls were covered in various paintings of wild-eyed Spanish dancers. There were fans spread out in a cabinet, and a pair of castanets. In one corner stood a guitar on a stand, a gaily coloured ribbon around it where the neck met the headstock. The dog continued to bark, hurling itself against the kitchen door with determined thuds.
‘Don’t mind Archie, he’ll stop in a moment and I’ll let him out. He’s a great guard dog although sometimes too overprotective.’
Robin handed over her business card. ‘I’ve come about your missing husband. I understand you spoke to my partner, Ross.’
The woman ran her hand lightly through her thick hair, mustering courage to explain. ‘That’s right. He’s missing.’ She searched about for a photograph and handed it to Robyn. ‘That’s him,’ she said, indicating the man in the photograph who was smiling but whose dark eyes, the colour of coal, were empty of emotion. ‘You probably think I should contact the police and I wanted to but it’s a bit delicate. Your partner told me you are a policewoman. You’ll understand my predicament when I explain it to you.’ She searched for words and failed. ‘I don’t really know where to begin.’ She paused and then asked, ‘Would you like a cup of tea, officer?’
Robyn didn’t clarify she was actually a detective inspector. She didn’t want to come across as pompous.
‘Thanks. That’d be lovely. I’m here in my capacity as a private investigator today. I don’t return to the force until next week. Just call me Robyn.’
Mary looked relieved and leaving Robyn to sit down, she headed in the direction of the barking. Robyn sat on a highly stuffed chair, taking in the photograph of the couple, trying to understand what it might tell her, while Matthews busied herself in the kitchen, returning not only with a pot of tea under a tea cosy but with the small white terrier that had been barking.
‘Hope you don’t mind Archie,’ said Mary as the dog immediately headed for Robyn. Robyn greeted the animal, patted it once and then ignored it. This tactic had worked before for her. Archie snuffled around Robyn’s feet for a few seconds and then lost interest, leaping up instead on the settee where he settled down and observed his mistress.
‘How long have you been married?’ Robyn asked as the woman poured the tea. In her experience it was good to get the person to open up, even if the answers weren’t relevant. She needed
to gain Mary Matthews’ trust and develop a relationship with her.
Mary didn’t answer immediately but pushed a delicate, floral china cup towards Robyn. She offered the sugar bowl but Robyn shook her head. The bowl was returned and silence hung as Mary wrestled with what she wanted to say. She looked directly into Robyn’s eyes.
‘You may have noticed I’m a little older than my husband.’ She laughed, a joyless sound. ‘Actually, I’m fifty and I’m twenty years older than him and for the record he’s my second husband. In a fortnight, we’ll have been married two years.’ She broke off to consider her next words, took a sip of the warm liquid, added a lump of sugar, stirred it in thoroughly and then continued.
‘I met Lucas at a school event. My nephew was playing in the orchestra. Lucas was his music teacher. After the event we got chatting and discovered we both had a love of classical music. He lent me a CD of John Williams playing a piece I particularly love, Rodrigo’s ‘Concierto de Aranjuez’. Surprisingly, one thing led to another. We went to a few concerts together. I asked him to teach me to play the classical guitar. I’d always wanted to learn and Lucas is an accomplished guitar player. He gave me private lessons. It’s very intimate, you know, learning to play an instrument like that. You sit close to each other. You feel the other person’s body heat and their hands as they guide yours on the strings.’ She stopped and sighed at the memory. ‘I should tell you that Lucas is not like other men. That’s to say, he’s a quiet man. He’s not a man’s man. He doesn’t go down the pub or off to football matches. He isn’t into sport at all. He prefers art and music. Those nights learning to play the guitar, well, I learned quite a bit about him. He hung around after the lessons and we talked and talked, and then soon enough a little more than talking. He started staying over for the odd night. I thought him charming, good company and sensitive, and to cut a long story short, I fell for him. I didn’t hold back. The lessons were coming to an end and I didn’t want to be without him. I asked him to marry me. Shocking, isn’t it?’ She laughed. ‘I’m not getting any younger and I thought it was worth asking. He could only refuse me. As it happened, he said yes.’
She sipped her tea, glanced at the guitar in the corner and continued.
‘My friends thought Lucas was marrying me for my money. They were all concerned on my behalf. Thought he’d marry me then race off into the sunset with my savings. I knew differently. Lucas is definitely not motivated by money. He doesn’t need a rich woman. He does, however, need someone who can understand him and that’s because he’s what you might call “damaged”. I suppose he was looking for a maternal figure rather than a lover and wife. He lost his mother when he was very young. It was tragic. The poor woman had breast cancer but she wasn’t diagnosed with it until it was too late to help her. It was horribly aggressive and she died within months. It was a dreadful time for Lucas who was only eleven years old when she passed away. He was very close to his mother and he took her death badly. He was a proper mummy’s boy.’
She paused, choosing her words carefully in order to paint an accurate picture of her husband. Robyn waited and sipped her tea.
‘That goes some way to explaining why he didn’t get on so well with his father, and after his mother’s death his father became even more distant. I don’t know if he had trouble grieving for his wife or being a single father or what but the upshot was Lucas was sent to boarding school. He had a rotten time at the school too. Lucas refuses to talk about those days. He has a lot of sorrow buried deep inside and I don’t push him. He tells me things when he wants to.’
She stopped to look at the photograph of them. ‘I saw the ache in his eyes when he talked about losing his mother. He became that little boy again, still needing and craving that love. I think that’s why I fell for him. I wanted to care for him. Mend him. Help him. And in a way I filled the role that his mother had left.’
Robyn nodded to indicate she was listening intently. Mary Matthews rose from her seat, crossed the room and picked up another photograph that she handed to Robyn. It showed the couple in evening dress. They made an odd couple – her short, plain and smiling – him tall and brooding with dark looks that bordered on handsome.
‘I’ve put on weight since that photo. It happens when you’re complacent. Besides, I like baking and what can you do when there’s a batch of cherry scones fresh out of the oven? Difficult to resist.’ She shrugged. ‘Lucas hasn’t changed. He’s always been lean.’ She studied the photo and exhaled softly. ‘He sometimes takes trips away during school holidays. He has friends from the school where he works who now live in Thailand and well, to be honest it’s a destination that doesn’t appeal to me. I have a fear of flying and I’d never manage on a long-haul flight even if you knocked me out for hours. So, he goes on his own.’
She lifted her cup again and balanced it on her knee. ‘He arranged to go away last Monday – the twenty-fifth of July,’ she added as if the date had significance. ‘I had no reason to suspect he was doing anything different to normal. He packed his case, told me he loved me and set off to the airport in his car. I didn’t think anything of it. I knew he was ready for a holiday. Although he’s a master at masking his emotions, he’s seemed low the last few weeks but refused to discuss what’s been bothering him. I thought going to Thailand would help give him time to reflect and heal.’
Robyn listened without interruption.
‘He didn’t phone on arrival and when I rang him the mobile went to answerphone. He’s lost his signal over there before so I wasn’t too anxious but I had one of those niggling doubts. I don’t have the phone number of the couple Lucas was staying with – the Devlins – they’re parents of one of the boys he used to teach at Blinkley Manor. I really should have asked for the number but I always talk to Lucas on his mobile or Skype him. I was going to ask Nick Pearson-Firth, that’s Lucas’s head of department, for it. That was until I was cleaning in Lucas’s study. I was turfing out the drawers of his desk and stumbled across his passport in the bottom drawer of his desk. He couldn’t possibly have flown to Thailand without it.’
She gnawed at her bottom lip for a moment.
‘Discovering that passport got me fired up. I’m a patient woman. I don’t mind that he keeps secrets about his past from me but I will not be lied to. I hate being lied to.’ Her voice rose in indignation. ‘I was furious. I had no idea what he was up to and I couldn’t work out why he hadn’t spoken to me about it, or why he hadn’t phoned me. I tried his mobile again and again it went to answerphone, so I left another message. I left several more and by night-time I was furious with him. Then I tried to rationalise what had happened. I went through all the possibilities – maybe he had upped and left me for someone else but that made no sense. We’ve not had any arguments or disagreements and there have been no indications he’s fed up of me or put off by me, if you know what I mean.’ She blushed. Robyn caught the meaning and gave a small smile to acknowledge the fact. Mary continued, ‘There would have been some signs if he had intended to leave me. Then I wondered if he had money troubles he hadn’t wanted to discuss with me. I even had the crazy idea he might have got into trouble with online gambling. I’d read about a husband who was addicted to poker so I searched his computer for anything to give me a hint as to where he was or why he had gone, and that’s when I knew he might be in trouble.’
She licked her lips nervously.
‘His browsing history didn’t help but I came across a file entitled “Sugar and Spice” and opened it.’ She cast her eyes downward and shook her head. ‘I wish I hadn’t,’ she continued more to herself than to Robyn. She drew a breath and looked back up. Robyn could see the confusion flitting across her face and knew what she was going to say. In a quiet voice Mary confirmed her suspicions, ‘The file contained images of children in various poses and stages of undress. It appears my husband has yet another secret I was unaware of. Lucas has a penchant for young girls. And I mean very young girls.’
5
Then
>
I sit on the landing in my favourite polka dot leggings and pink top, straining to hear every word. Mr Big Ears, tucked under my arm, wears a look of concern. This is not going well at all and he seems anxious about the outcome.
Grandma Jane is in the kitchen arguing loudly with Mummy. Mummy arrived late to pick me up. Normally, she only stays for a moment and we race off to catch the train but today Grandma Jane invited Mummy inside and insisted they had a chat. Mummy did not look like she wanted a chat. Grandpa Clifford put a DVD on upstairs for me to watch while they talked. He said it was best to wait until they asked me to come back downstairs.
Grandpa doesn’t have many DVDs I want to watch and I’ve seen the Tom and Jerry cartoons loads of times so I slip onto the landing, curious to find out what the adults are talking about. Their voices are clear even though the kitchen door is shut. Grandma Jane is speaking. She sounds concerned like she did when I fell off the swings at the park and cut my chin.
‘I know you’ve been through a lot. We all have. Losing Josh was dreadful. It affected us all. You hardly had a chance to get over it… that unfortunate episode with Paul and his son.’
Words rise and fall and I cannot catch the drift of the conversation.
Then Mummy mutters something but I can’t hear what he says. Grandma Jane speaks again. ‘She’s a child! She was probably frightened or half asleep or, I don’t know what but you can’t keep reading more into it than it was an unfortunate accident.’ The voices continue until Mummy shouts, ‘It ruined my relationship with Paul, a man who was going to look after me and help me live again. You can’t understand that. I needed him. I had a second chance at happiness and it was snatched away before it even began. You can only think about losing Josh. You have no idea what it was like for me trying to cope all alone without him. You have each other. I had no one. Then I found Paul and then suddenly, I had no one again.’
