by M K Farrar
“Michelle Mabry?” she checked.
“Yes. From the messages, she seemed very concerned about the whereabouts of whoever it was she was trying to get hold of. She kept asking where he was and when he was coming home. I’ve emailed you the transcripts.”
She clicked on the computer and brought them up. Sure enough, the messages were just the same thing, insistences that the owner of the phone call her, and asking where he was and when he’d be home.
“Those read like the messages of a worried wife to me,” she said.
“I agree.”
“What about the phone itself? Is it registered to anyone?”
“No, it’s not. Sorry.”
She fiddled with a pen on her desk. “No problem. Thanks for sending all of that over. At least we have one name to work with.”
She hung up and then ran a check on the name Michelle Francis Mabry. She didn’t have any kind of criminal background.
“Why were you calling a phone found in the home of a murdered family?” Erica asked out loud, addressing a woman she didn’t yet know.
She searched other records for the name. Michelle was married to a Russell Mabry, but there was surprisingly little to be found about either of them online. Neither of them appeared to be on social media, though she found a marriage certificate, and they were both on the electoral roll, so she had an address. It was a local Bristol one.
Her curiosity deepened. She’d have considered that Michelle Mabry had been phoning the wrong number, but the number was stored in the phone under ‘Michelle’ as well.
Could the phone have been nicked and hidden in the house because it was stolen goods? It wasn’t as though it was a particularly expensive phone, though.
Erica printed off the transcripts and took them over to Ryan’s desk.
“Thought you might be interested in this,” she told him. “Digital Forensics cracked the phone found in the Lloyd house.”
She ran him through her thoughts and what had been discussed with Mike Pembroke.
Ryan sat back and tapped his pen against his teeth. Erica watched as he drummed a rhythm; one, two, three, pause. One, two, three, pause.
“There’s one easy way to get to the bottom of this.” He picked up his own phone. “Let’s give Michelle Mabry a call and see if she knows why her husband’s phone was hidden inside another woman’s husband’s sock drawer.”
Chapter Twelve
MICHELLE THOUGHT SHE was going to lose her mind. It was the afternoon now, but she still hadn’t heard anything from Russell, and the police hadn’t been to see her either. She felt so utterly helpless. She’d called round everyone she knew, praying one of them had heard something from him. Her sister had been worried but had done her best to reassure her. She knew what everyone was thinking, though—that he’d done something stupid and didn’t want to face the music. None of her friends and family knew Russell the way she did. Because he was away so much with work, they’d never really had the opportunity to get to know him properly.
Max had gone unusually quiet as well, and she could tell he was worried about his dad, even if he didn’t say so out loud. He was normally a boisterous and happy boy, but today he’d hidden in his room, only coming down for snacks or to ask when his dad was coming home.
Suddenly, her phone buzzed beside her. She didn’t recognise the number, but maybe it was her husband calling from someone else’s phone. If he’d lost his, it would explain why he hadn’t been answering any of her calls, though his phone had been going straight through to answerphone from yesterday evening.
She snatched up her phone and swiped the screen to answer. “Hello?”
A pause on the other end, and then a strange male voice said, “My name is Detective Inspector Ryan Chase. May I ask who I’m speaking to?”
Her mouth opened and shut. She was unsure how to respond. A detective? Why was a detective calling her? Immediately, she thought the worst. He was most likely calling because something terrible had happened to Russ.
“What’s happened? Where’s my husband?”
“I’m sorry, but I don’t know that. Please can you give me your name?”
“Michelle. I’m Russell Mabry’s wife. He’s been missing since yesterday. Do you know what’s happened to him?”
“I’m afraid I don’t know that. This phone was found in relation to a crime I’m investigating. I’d like to come and speak to you about this in more detail.”
A crime? Did that mean this detective thought Russ had been involved in something illegal? Russell never did anything illegal. In the ten years that she’d known him, she couldn’t remember him even getting a speeding ticket. He was careful about everything, making sure every bill was paid on time and that they never went into debt. He was the most risk-adverse person she’d ever met.
“This...this can’t be right. There must be some kind of mistake. There’s no way Russell would ever be involved in a crime.”
“You said your husband’s name is Russell Mabry?”
“Yes, that’s right.” Hope bloomed inside her. They’d got the wrong man. She’d been right, and this was a huge mistake.
“Mrs Mabry, are you available to have a chat? I don’t think this is a conversation we should have over the phone.”
“Oh, yes, of course. I mean, I called the police earlier to try to get someone out to see me, but I was told everyone was too busy.”
“We’re not busy now. Are you at your home address? I’ll be with you as soon as possible.”
She went to reel off her home address, but he stopped her. “That’s okay, we have your address.”
“Right, yes, of course you do. I’ll see you soon then.”
The detective at the end of the phone said goodbye and ended the call.
She stood in the same position, staring down at the phone in one hand, the knuckles of her other hand pressed to her lips. She’d thought that the detective would give her answers, but instead she’d only been left with more questions.
A crime? Could her husband really have been involved in a crime?
Russell was the man who kissed her goodnight, who swung his son up into the air every time he came home from work. Yes, he was away at work most of the week, but she never for a moment thought she couldn’t trust him. He’d never given her any reason to suspect he was doing something he shouldn’t be.
Until the evening he’d never come home.
Chapter Thirteen
THEY PULLED UP OUTSIDE a semi-detached house with what would have been a front garden turned into a drive with a drop curb. The curtain at the front window twitched, and Erica caught a glimpse of a woman’s pale face through the glass.
“We’ve been seen,” she said to Ryan.
He cocked an eyebrow at her. “Not like we’re trying to hide that we’re here.”
“True. What do you think we’re going to go into? Who is Russell Mabry, and what’s his connection to Douglas Lloyd? Is it possible they’re the same person? It wouldn’t be the first time a man has kept two different families running, and the neighbours said Douglas Lloyd was away working a lot.”
“It’s certainly possible. Both names are clean when I’ve run checks on them, and neither has any kind of social media presence. The couple of photographs I’ve managed to pull up are from a distance or in group photos, and they’re both men of a similar age with brown hair. I could get an analyst to try to make them clearer, but we don’t have time for that right now. The wife is bound to have a photograph. We can compare it to ones we took from the first house.”
Erica glanced over at the house. “They live a bit close together for that setup. He’d have been taking one hell of a risk not to bump into the other wife and child in the supermarket or cinema or something.”
Ryan cocked an eyebrow. “Maybe they did find out about each other. Perhaps that had been the reason his family had been killed or he’d killed his family—the stress of trying to keep two lives going had been too much for him.”
“
You think he might have snapped?”
“It’s a possibility.” Ryan gave a low whistle and shook his head. “Takes some balls, though, doesn’t it? I couldn’t imagine living like that. He must have been on high alert every time he left the house.”
Erica shrugged. “Or he was just one of those smug bastards who didn’t give a shit.”
“Or maybe the two families even knew about each other. That does happen.”
“True. Plenty of women turn a blind eye to their husband’s affairs, and it most likely happens the other way around, too.”
“We don’t mention any of that to the wife, though,” Ryan said. “No point in putting ideas into her head.”
Erica nodded her agreement.
They both climbed out of the car and approached the front door. It swung open before they’d even made it onto the driveway.
“Come in, please.” Michelle Mabry beckoned them towards the house, her eyes wide. “But keep your voices down. My son, Max, is upstairs. He’s got his headphones on and is playing games, but I don’t want him overhearing our conversation.”
Ryan had led the way, and she stepped back to let him through, Erica following close behind.
“This way,” Michelle said, showing them into a tidy living room that looked as though it had been decorated in the style of a magazine, not an item out of place, the pictures on the walls all coordinated, a thick cream rug on wooden floorboards. It was pretty but generic. “Please, sit down.”
Erica perched on one armchair, while Ryan selected the two-seater sofa opposite. Michelle sat on the biggest of the seating on offer, but she leaned forwards, her hands clasped between her knees, her face drawn with worry.
“Mrs Mabry,” Ryan started, “does the name Douglas Lloyd mean anything to you?”
She frowned and shook her head. “No, should it?”
“What about Elizabeth Lloyd, or Keira Lloyd?”
“No, I don’t know them either. Please, my husband is missing. That’s all I care about. I don’t know who these other people are.”
Ryan pulled out the photographs of the family that had been taken from their home and held them out to her. If this was her husband, she would surely react to seeing him with his arm around another woman and a young girl at his side. But Michelle’s lips pursed, and lines appeared between her brows as she studied the picture.
“I’m sorry, but I really don’t know who these people are. I’ve never seen them before. Are they connected to my husband’s disappearance?”
Ryan exhaled a breath and sat back slightly. Erica studied his face for his thoughts. This wasn’t going the way they’d anticipated. They’d suspected that Russell Mabry was an alias for Douglas Lloyd and that he’d been running two lives in secret from each other. But if the other wife didn’t recognise the man in the picture, they were clearly wrong. Unless she was covering for him, of course, but this didn’t seem like a woman who was covering for her cheating spouse.
“Honestly, Mrs Mabry,” Erica said, “that’s what we’re trying to find out. We found a phone with your phone number on it hidden in this family’s house.”
“Why were you looking through their house?”
“The mother and daughter were tragically found murdered yesterday evening.”
Michelle clapped her hand to her mouth. “Oh my God.”
“The husband, Douglas Lloyd, is currently missing.”
“Like Russell,” she exclaimed.
“Yes, like your husband.”
She burst into tears, put her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking.
Erica got up from the chair and sat beside Michelle on the sofa. “The thing is, Mrs Mabry, we really do need to find out how your husband knew Douglas Lloyd.”
“He didn’t hurt those people. I know he didn’t. He couldn’t have done such an awful thing.”
“That’s not what we’re saying, but there’s a possibility he might be in trouble, might even be hurt or in danger. The sooner we find him, the sooner we can help him.” She didn’t want to make any promises she couldn’t keep, and she was aware that she was using Michelle’s love for her husband and belief in his innocence for their own advantage, but it couldn’t be helped. They needed to figure out what the hell was going on here.
“Can you think of anyone who might have wanted to hurt your husband?” Ryan asked.
“God, no! No one would. He’s a good man, Detective.”
“He hadn’t mentioned falling out with anyone then, no matter how small it might have seemed at the time?”
“No, not at all.”
Ryan clasped his hands between his knees. “Have you noticed anything odd about his behaviour recently? Strange phone calls, or anything like that?”
“No more than normal. He’s always getting phone calls at stupid times, but it’s part of his job. He deals with a lot of businesses that are on different time zones, and they just don’t think about what time it is here when they call.”
“And what is his job?” Erica asked.
“He’s a pharmaceutical rep for NovoFord Pharmaceuticals.”
Ryan took over again. “So, it’s usual for him to receive phone calls during unsociable hours.”
“Yes, but like I said, it’s his work.” Michelle looked between them both as though assessing what they thought of the situation. “Their head office is in America, and they have offices all over the world, which is why they call then.”
He nodded. “Of course. That’s perfectly understandable.”
They didn’t want this woman to get defensive and shut down on them. Right now, Michelle Mabry was the only real lead they had.
“Does your husband have an office in the house?” Ryan asked. “A place he works from?”
“Yes, he does.” Michelle glanced towards the ceiling. “It’s the box room, upstairs.”
Ryan got to his feet. “Do you mind if we take a look?”
“Umm, no, I suppose not. It’s this way.”
Erica stood as well, and Michelle led them upstairs. She opened the door that appeared to lead onto a bedroom, then moved out of the way. Erica understood why the moment she’d stepped through with Ryan. The room was barely big enough to hold two of them, never mind three.
“I’m just going to check on Max,” Michelle said. “Call out if you need anything.”
Erica offered her a smile. “Thank you. We will.”
The office was as tidy as the rest of the house. Ryan pulled on a pair of gloves, and Erica stood by the door while he opened drawers and flicked through paperwork. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to help, but the size of the space meant she’d be more of an impedance than an assistance if she tried.
“He has a company car.” Ryan held up some paperwork. “Let’s get a search put out on the license plate number.”
Erica took out her phone and placed the call to control to get that actioned. When she was done, she turned her attention back to Ryan. “Anything else of interest?”
He shook his head. “Not that I can find. Appears to be the office of a normal married father of one, but there’s something more going on here. I can feel it.”
Erica dropped her voice so Michelle didn’t overhear. “I don’t think she has any belief that her husband has been doing something he shouldn’t. She seems completely trusting of him.”
“She wouldn’t be the first wife to discover her husband is nothing like the person he’s been making out to be all the years of their marriage.”
Erica chewed her lower lip. “Could she be in danger? Her and the boy? It might be worth suggesting she goes and stays somewhere for a while.”
He nodded in agreement.
“How are you getting on?” a female voice chirped out at them from the hallway.
Erica resisted the urge to jump guiltily. It wasn’t as though they’d done anything wrong. She faced Michelle. “We’re almost done. We’ve put a search out on your husband’s company car, so hopefully that’ll help track him down.”
“Oh, r
ight. I do hope so.”
Erica continued. “Have you got a friend or family member you can stay with for a little while, at least until we can figure out what’s happened to your husband.”
Her eyes widened. “Why? What if Russ comes home and I’m not here?”
That’s what we’re worried about, Erica thought but didn’t say. “We just think it would be safer if you were staying with someone else.”
“Safer? You think I might be in danger? That Max might be in danger?”
She gave Michelle a kind smile. “We hope not, but it’s just a precaution. Is there anyone you can stay with?”
“I can phone my mother. She’ll be happy to have us, though she’s going to want to know what’s happened to Russ.” Fresh tears trickled down her cheeks. “And what do I say to that? What has happened to Russ?”
“Right now, all we know for sure is that he’s missing. That’s all your mother needs to know, too.”
Michelle sniffed and swiped at her cheeks. “Okay,” she said quietly, and then more loudly, “Okay.”
Chapter Fourteen
BY THE TIME THEY GOT back into the office, the forensic report had come in from the crash site.
Ryan read over it with interest, while chugging a cup of coffee and shoving a sandwich he’d picked up at the local corner shop down his throat. He’d washed his hands three times before eating, but somehow reading about blood spatters didn’t affect his appetite.
There were two blood types found in the car, one of which matched with Douglas Lloyd’s DNA. The second one was unknown. There was someone else in this picture, and he was starting to wonder if that other person could have been Russell Mabry. He would need to get a warrant for Mabry’s house to see if they could match the DNA. More blood had been found nearby, and on the road. There had also been several different sets of fingerprints found inside the car and on the door handles.
Was Douglas Lloyd in the car willingly, or had he been injured and taken?
DC Lawson approached his desk. “Boss, I’ve been working on contacting each of the owners of the vehicles that we caught on the CCTV outside of the shop. I think I’ve found someone who saw something.”
