“Don’t be morbid,” Nigel told his daughter, even though he had only just expressed his own interest.
The look Kelly threw her father’s way showed she knew how hypocritical he was being. She said nothing to him, though, instead she turned her attention back to Mitchell. “Come on, what happened to Georgie? I’m right, aren’t I, she was killed. How? When? Who by?”
“Behave,” Nigel told his daughter, with more sharpness than either Mitchell or Melissa had ever heard him use before. “Whatever’s happened to Georgina, you should show some respect, not act like it’s something exciting to tell your friends about; she’s a friend of yours as well.”
“No she’s not,” Kelly denied quickly. “We used to be friends, ages ago, but we haven’t been friends since Mayfield’s. I’m sorry she’s dead, but I’m not gonna pretend to be sad when I’m not, and I’m not gonna pretend not to be curious about what happened when I am. So, come on, what happened to her? Was she killed?”
As distasteful as he found the teen’s morbid curiosity, Mitchell couldn’t help admiring her honesty. He nodded. “Yes, she was killed. Are you certain you can’t think of anyone who’d want to hurt her?”
“There’s no-one. Honestly, I don’t think Georgie could have upset anyone enough to make them want to hurt her, not even if she tried, she just didn’t have it in her.”
“Clearly someone wanted to hurt her,” Mitchell said before changing the subject. “When did you last see Lucy?”
Kelly reacted to the question as though she had been slapped. Her legs shot out from under her, she sat bolt upright, and an expression of anger settled over her face as she glared at Mitchell. “Lucy ain’t done nothing,” she said, leaping to the defence of her friend. “I don’t know what you think she’s done, but she didn’t do it.”
If looks could kill, Mitchell thought as the teen’s glare struck him. “I never suggested she has,” he said, annoyed by Kelly’s reaction. “I simply asked when you last saw her.”
“Why d’you want to know?” Kelly asked suspiciously. “If you’re not after her for something, why d’you want to know when I saw her?”
“Because her mother has reported her missing.” Mitchell saw the shock that overtook the anger on Kelly’s face and went on quickly. “We don’t have any reason for thinking anything has happened to her; given her history, there’s every chance that she’s simply gone off somewhere and hasn’t come home yet. Theresa Goulding is concerned, though, and with this morning’s discovery we’re taking that seriously. Now, I understand you spoke to Mrs Goulding yesterday, and told her you hadn’t seen Lucy since lunchtime, is that right?”
“Nope,” Kelly said with a shake of her head.
“No, that isn’t right?” Mitchell asked. He was annoyed when he received only a nod. “Which part? Did you not speak to Mrs Goulding yesterday, or yesterday lunchtime isn’t the last time you saw Lucy?” He felt like he was trying to draw blood from a stone.
“I never spoke to Lucy’s mum; it was Anna who called me.”
“Okay, so it was Mrs Becker you spoke to, you did tell her you last saw Lucy at lunchtime, though, didn’t you?”
“Uh huh.” Kelly nodded, then volunteered. “At the bus station, she was coming back here.”
“Back here, to Oakhurst, you mean? Do you know why?” Mitchell was not surprised to hear that Lucy Goulding had bunked off school.
“She said she was meeting someone. Don’t ask me who, she never said.”
“Could it have been Oliver Ryder she was coming back to see?” Melissa asked.
Kelly shook her head quickly and decisively. “Lucy would’ve told me if she was coming back to see Ollie; I’d’ve bunked off and come with her so I could spend the afternoon with Tom.”
“Tom, Tom Bottle?” Nigel leapt angrily on what his daughter had said. “You’re seeing that criminal? What have I…” He was interrupted by Mitchell before he could say anything more.
“If you don’t mind, this is another conversation you can have another time. I appreciate that Lucy didn’t tell you who she was coming back to see, but did she say anything that might have hinted at who it is?” he asked of Kelly.
A short while passed before Kelly answered. “She said she was coming back to see someone who could make all her dreams come true.”
“Have you got any idea who that might be?” Mitchell asked. When Kelly shook her head, he tried another tack. “How about Lucy’s dreams, do you know what they might be, what she might have been trying to get help with?” He couldn’t imagine why Lucy would have needed to see anyone other than her great-uncle to make her dreams come true.
Kelly shrugged. “Get rich, get a fit guy, have an easy life. Aside from that, the only thing I’ve ever heard her talk about is writing.”
“Writing? What sort of writing?” Melissa asked, a suspicion creeping into her mind. “Was Lucy interested in writing novels or something?”
“She says she is,” Kelly said. “She’s always scribbling in a notepad, or typing something into her phone, and she says she’s writing a book, but she’s never let me read any of it. Not that I’d want to, I’m not into reading. Can’t think why she’d want to be a writer, but I can’t think of anything else I’d call a dream for Lucy.”
“Does Lucy know a Zack Wild?”
“Who?” Kelly asked. “Never heard of him. If she does, she’s never told me. Wait,” she said suddenly, “is that the new guy that moved into the village?”
Melissa nodded.
“Never knew his name.”
“So, you don’t know if Lucy knows Mr Wild,” Mitchell said.
Kelly shook her head. “If she does, she’s kept it a secret from me; can’t think why she’d do that, though.” After a moment, a thought occurred to her. “Is he hunky?” she asked.
“Pretty hunky,” Melissa said, looking embarrassedly at Mitchell.
“Maybe she was keeping it from Ollie, not me,” Kelly said, speaking more to herself than to the two officers. “He wouldn’t be happy if he found out she was seeing someone else.”
Mitchell didn’t doubt that Oliver Ryder would be unhappy if Lucy were seeing someone else, and he wondered if that could be the reason she hadn’t come home. It was something to consider, but not immediately helpful to them in finding Lucy.
9
Melissa couldn’t see much, but that didn’t stop her trying to watch the house in the wing mirror as Mitchell drove them back down the road towards the centre of Oakhurst. All there was to see was her grandmother, who was pottering around her front garden – of Zack Wild, who they had gone to see, there was no sign.
“D’you think he’s actually out, or in and trying to avoid us?” she asked after finally abandoning the wing mirror and settling back in the passenger seat.
Mitchell shrugged. “That fancy sports car of his isn’t in the drive, so I’d say he’s out, but you never know. I can’t think why he’d be avoiding us, though, not unless he’s the killer; even then I can’t see him avoiding us – he doesn’t know that we know Lucy is apparently missing, or that we have reason for thinking she might have visited him.
“Hiding or just not in, we’ll have to try again later. Right now, I want to speak to Oliver Ryder before we go and see the Gouldings.”
Melissa didn’t relish the thought of dealing with Oliver Ryder at that time of the morning, and she was slow to exit the car when they reached their destination. She knew from experience that Oliver and his friends were reluctant to talk to the police at the best of times, and it was usually best to wait until after noon to speak to them. Mitchell had no such concerns, however, and strode up to the front door, where he waited for Melissa to make her way around to the back door, as per his instructions.
When there was no response to the doorbell, he banged on the door, and then stepped back so he could shout, “Open up, it’s the police,” loud enough to be heard by Oliver and his friends even if they were still in bed.
The movement of the curtain in the fron
t bedroom was minimal, no more than a quick twitch as someone peeked out, but Mitchell spotted it.
“We’re not here to arrest you, we just need to talk,” he called out, returning to the front door so he could ring the bell and bang his fist on it again, though he doubted his words would get anyone to the door any quicker.
Melissa heard Mitchell’s shout and listened for some indication that the house’s occupants had too – it didn’t take long. Within moments of Mitchell’s second shout, she heard thunderous footsteps approach the back door. She tensed, one hand on her extendible baton, while she waited for the door she was standing at the side of to open; it did so with a bang and Melissa pushed away from the wall.
Tom Bottle and Simon Deacon got themselves jammed, momentarily, in the doorway, as they both tried to exit the house at the same time. When they freed themselves, they burst into the garden, straight into the leg that Melissa stuck out to trip them up; they went down in a tangled heap of arms and legs that made them look like some weird, many-limbed creature.
“Morning, boys,” Melissa said cheerfully. “I guess you didn’t hear Sergeant Mitchell. We only want to talk to you, so there’s no reason for you to be running off anywhere.”
“Since when have you guys ever only wanted to talk to us?” Tom Bottle wanted to know as he extricated himself from his friend. “You always think we’ve done summat. Well, we ain’t done nowt, so you can bugger off and look elsewhere for whoever did whatever’s been done.”
“If you’ve done nothing wrong, why were you running?” Melissa asked, though she didn’t give either of the two men a chance to respond. “Come on, on your feet and back inside. If you cooperate, and don’t give us any hassle, you’ll both be back in bed before you know it,” she told them. “Where’s Oliver?” she asked as she shepherded Simon and Tom back into the house. “He’s normally the first one through the door.”
“He’s not here,” Simon said.
“Where is he?”
“He’s out.”
“I gathered that, where?”
“What’s it matter?”
Melissa didn’t bother answering, instead she headed for the front door, after seeing Simon and Tom into the living room, so she could let Mitchell in.
“Good work, Melissa,” Mitchell said when he saw the two in the living room. “But where’s Oliver? Don’t tell me you let him get away.”
“There was no sign of him,” Melissa said, a little offended by her superior’s suggestion. “He didn’t try and make a run for it, like these two.”
“Where’s Oliver?” Mitchell asked of Simon and Tom as he crossed to the stained armchair opposite the sofa they were on, where he reluctantly sat.
“Not here,” Tom answered, with an abruptness that suggested it was all he was going to say.
Mitchell got the impression Tom was not about to reveal where his friend was, he had to ask though. “Okay, so where is he?” As he did so he signalled to Melissa that she should make a search of the upstairs, in case Tom was lying, which was likely. “If he’s not home, where is he?”
“Not here,” Simon said in a frustrated voice. “Tom told you.” He followed Melissa with his eyes as she left the room and started up the stairs.
“He didn’t say where, though,” Mitchell pointed out. “And don’t try and tell me you don’t know where he is, it won’t wash.”
Tom scowled at his friend, but it didn’t stop Simon, who was the weaker of the pair, answering. “He’s at work.”
“Work? Do you take me for an idiot?” Mitchell asked. “Oliver hasn’t done a day’s work in his life, not honest work anyway. Where is he really? Somewhere he shouldn’t be, I’ll be bound.”
“I told you, he’s at…” Simon’s insistent words were interrupted by the return of Melissa, who shook her head briefly to indicate that she had not found Oliver Ryder during her quick search of the three bedrooms and one bathroom. “Work,” he finished. “See, if I was gonna make something up, don’t you think I’d come up with something better?”
Mitchell could hardly deny that; Simon was not the most creative of liars, but he was capable of coming up with something more believable than Oliver being at work.
“If Oliver has a job now, where’s he working, and what prompted him to turn away from a life of crime? Assuming he has. He’s never showed the slightest inclination to do anything legit before.”
Tom scowled at Simon again, but then went on to answer the question himself. “He’s working at the golf course, training to be a gardener or something,” he said. “Georgie talked him into it. You know what Ollie’s like when it comes to Georgie, he’ll do anything for her. She told him he needed to straighten up and get a job, then she saw the job at the golf course and got him to apply for it.
“What’re you doing here anyway, we ain’t done nothing.”
Mitchell couldn’t help but snort at that. “I’m sure that’s a lie; if it’s not, it’d be the first time in history. That’s not why I’m here now, though. I need to speak to Oliver. Since he isn’t here, I’ll talk to the two of you. When’s the last time either of you saw Georgina?”
“What the hell,” Tom said angrily after his momentary surprise had passed. “You’ve dragged us out o’ bed, she’s tripped us up, and all because you wanna ask us ‘bout Georgie. You already asked us ‘bout her last week; you know when we last saw ‘er.”
“I know what you told me at the beginning of the week, but I’m hoping you’ll have remembered something fresh that will help us, especially given this morning’s discovery.”
“What discovery?” Simon asked.
“I guess you two wouldn’t know, since you’ve both been asleep,” Mitchell remarked. “Not that I suppose anyone would have called you anyway, given that neither of you is all that popular. Early this morning, the body of a young girl was found by the river, it looks like it’s Georgina.” The reaction he got was just what he might have anticipated.
“Bloody hell! No way! You sure?” The exclamations and questions came tumbling from the lips of Tom and Simon in unison, falling over one another.
Mitchell waited until the two had calmed down, and were no longer urgently denying any knowledge of the death, to say anything more. “We’re as sure as we can be at this time,” he told them. “Now, I need you both to tell me everything you can remember about the last time you saw Georgina. I don’t believe either of you had anything to do with her death,” he said loudly and quickly to make himself heard over the protestations of innocence.
“Sit down and shut up,” Melissa finally shouted at the pair, who hovered somewhere between sitting and standing. “If you’d listen instead of making an unnecessary racket,” she said when they fell silent, “you’d have heard that we don’t think either of you had anything to do with what’s happened to Georgina, but we do need to know whatever you can tell us, so we can figure out what did happen.”
Mitchell was both surprised and pleased by the way Simon and Tom did exactly as Melissa told them. “Right, now you’re ready to listen, when did you last see Georgina?” he asked.
It was Simon who answered first. “Georgie was here last Friday, as we told you before,” he said. “Musta been ‘bout six, half-six, when she got here. It were a flying visit on her way to see Kieran, she said; that pissed Ollie off and he told her she should dump him – he’s always telling her to dump him. Georgie ignored him, like usual, and told him the house was a mess, that were normal as well. She washed the dishes in the sink, asked him ‘bout his job, and told him she’d be ‘round in the morning to clean up the house. She left after ‘bout twenty minutes. That’s the last I saw of her.”
“What about you, Tom?” Mitchell asked.
Tom shrugged. “Same. Haven’t seen her since then.”
“Has Oliver?” Mitchell wasn’t sure if either Tom or Simon would know whether their friend had seen or heard anything from his cousin, but he had to ask. “He’s not mentioned hearing from her?” he asked when both men shook their
heads. “And I take it Georgina didn’t show up the next morning to clean the house.” From the appearance of the living room, which he was sure was representative of the house, the place hadn’t been cleaned in quite some time.
“No.” Simon shook his head. “She didn’t show up, and Ollie hasn’t heard from her. I know he’s tried calling and texting all week, but no luck. He’s not gonna like it when he hears how she’s been found.”
Mitchell didn’t need Simon to tell him that, he could easily imagine how Oliver was going to react – explosively would be understating it. It was just a question of who the explosion would be directed at, and that was something he didn’t fancy taking bets on, especially when he was one of the possible targets.
“Okay, so you can’t help us with Georgina; I assume you don’t know of anyone who might have wanted to hurt her.” He couldn’t even bring himself to feign hopefulness as he waited for his answer. “When did you last see Lucy?”
“Lucy,” Simon groaned, though it was unclear why the question should have prompted such a reaction. “Whatever she’s done, we weren’t involved in it,” he said, hastening to distance himself from the teen’s troubles.
Tom was quicker on the uptake than Simon, he realised almost immediately that there was a connection between the discovery of the body that might be Georgina and the question about Lucy. “What’s happened to Lucy?” he asked, leaning forward to stare intently at Mitchell.
“We don’t yet know that anything’s happened to her,” Mitchell said. “But her mother has reported her missing. She hasn’t been home since she left for school yesterday morning.” He quickly held up a hand to forestall the barrage of comments he could see coming. “I know it’s far from unusual for Lucy to stay away from home for more than a day, and the chances are she’s just been out having fun and will turn up soon; after this morning’s discovery, though, I have to make enquiries. So I’ll ask again, when did you last see Lucy?”
“Thursday,” Tom answered. “She was here Thursday night, with Ollie.”
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