by K Leitch
No time for all that sentimentality though, she had a job to do.
‘Frank, doesn’t she seem familiar to you…’ Carla asked as Frank joined her outside, ‘I’m sure I know who she is I just can’t quite put a name to her.’
Frank shook his head, ‘No sorry…I don’t know her and to be honest I don’t think I’d be able to recognise her even if I did.’
‘Right,’ went on Carla after thinking for a moment, ‘we need to start trawling missing persons, and we need to get hold of social services, see who’s on their at risk files. Can you get Sam and Midge knocking on doors round here, anybody noticed anything, someone hanging round these garages maybe, or a child that’s usually around, not around anymore?’
Frank wandered off to speak to Sam and Midge; Carla got on her radio and spoke to DC Mandy Hopkins who was surprised to be called so early and was obviously still only half awake.
‘Mandy I need you to find out who made the calls about the smell in the garage block, see if they know who actually owns the garage. Also can you access any of the CCTV cameras within a hundred yard radius of the lock up…yes its near Haversham Drive, round the back of Chatsworth House…yeh ‘Buttercup’…thanks love…oh pretty grim…yeh dreadful actually, right I’ll see you when I get in…and get a strong coffee ok I need you bright eyed and bushy tailed for this one…ok, see you later.’
Carla and the other various police officers and forensic team watched in silence as the mortuary van arrived and the little girl still wrapped in the rug was taken away. There was nothing more Carla could do, so she drove back to the station to try and plan her next move.
As expected Carla’s new DCI, Chief Inspector Bob Riley was awaiting her arrival and called her into his office as soon as she got back.
‘Okay what have we got Carla?’ he asked motioning for her to sit down.
Carla sat in the chair opposite him and placed her hands on the desk, ‘The body of a child has been found in a garage in the centre of the ‘Buttercup’ estate sir. Several calls were received by the local council’s environmental heath dept. yesterday, reporting a smell coming from the garage block immediately behind some flats. One of their officers attended very early this morning and found the source of the smell pretty quickly, she phoned us, or rather Frank…um DS Frank Hill sir, it was coming from one particular garage. Suspecting that there was something dead inside the garage she thought that rather than going into the garage herself she should have the police do it. So at about 6.40 am DS Hill and I went to the garage block and after searching through the garage we found the body, wrapped in an old rug. We then called forensics. It’s a little girl sir, Dorothy’s putting her age at about 3 or 4, she’s been dead for at least two weeks according to Dorothy and the body’s not in great shape, but I don’t believe it will be hard to find out who she is. Someone has got to have noticed a child missing for that long, schools playgroups…there’s an injury to her head and bruising round her throat…looks like she might have been sexually assaulted as well sir,’ finished Carla with a sigh.
DCI Bob Riley didn’t reply for a moment or two, he got up and walked over to the window with his back to Carla, staring out at the village green over which his office looked.
He was a very average man, Carla thought as she waited for him to speak…she’d put his age at about 45 maybe 50, average height, average weight, thinning light brown hair which he kept extremely short and a very forgettable face. Which was probably why he had worked so hard to get himself a reputation on the force as a hard man, a man that you crossed at your peril.
He turned back to Carla, ’You’ve contacted social services I presume?’
‘Um yes sir, I am waiting to hear back, and we’ve contacted all the local head teachers…to see if they have had any children missing from school…all the usual suspects…child sex offenders, etc. are being checked as to their whereabouts…’
‘Good, good,’ said Riley sitting back down, he leaned forward towards Carla as he spoke, ‘shouldn’t be surprised at anything that happens on that estate should we?’ he tutted and then smiled resignedly at Carla. ‘If I had to guess though I would say that this is probably some junkie mother, high on crack, hits her child too hard, panics…tries to hide her body in one of the lock ups. Too bloody dumb to realise that it’s going to smell to high heaven after a few weeks…body’s found…tragic, tragic…but all too common these days eh Carla?’
‘Yes tragic sir…but then there’s the matter of sexual interference…’
‘Any traces of semen?’
‘I’m not sure yet sir, we’ll know more after the PM.’
‘Of course, of course…well keep me posted on this one Carla, I’m going to have the press breathing down my neck as soon as they get a whiff of a dead child, pardon my pun,’ he gave a short laugh at his own unintentional joke, ‘anyway be good to have something to tell them sooner rather than later.’
Carla had obviously been dismissed so she stood and left the office. She wasn’t sure what she thought about DCI Riley yet, but she hadn’t been impressed with his attitude, which had showed a lack of any sensitivity, or his theory. It had almost felt as if he was trying to push her into a definite line of enquiry and Carla didn’t like being pushed, she would make her own mind up thank you very much.
Frank was in her office when she got back there, sitting behind her desk, eating her bloody Kit Kat.
‘Oy!’ she said whacking him round the head with the file she was carrying. ‘That was my breakfast …and get out of my chair.’
‘Oops sorry,’ said Frank getting up, looking anything but repentant, ‘I’ll buy you a muffin from the canteen ok?’
‘Bloody better,’ Carla said sitting down and putting her head in her hands. It had been an awful morning so far and it didn’t look as if it was going to get any better.
‘So what did he have to say?’ asked Frank pulling up the other chair.
‘Anxious to have something to give the press, he’ll be on our backs for this one I suspect,’ said Carla. Frank raised his eyebrows and pulled a face.
‘What your problem with him Frank?’ Carla asked. ‘He seems ok, a bit quick to jump to conclusions, and about as sensitive as an ironing board maybe, but then none of us are perfect are we?’
‘Oh nothing really, I’ve bumped into him a couple of times over the years, that’s all,’ said Frank dismissively.
‘Yeh, well you obviously have a problem with the man, anything I should know about?’ asked Carla, Frank just pulled a wry expression and shook his head.
‘Oh come on…you can’t just start something and not finish it, that’s just not…’
Carla was interrupted by Mandy, who put her head round the door, ‘Just spoken to the head at Riddlestone Juniors Ma’am, she wasn’t at all happy to be woken up so early, but she did say that they had been worried about the absence of one of the pupils there…Lucy Hunt hasn’t been at school for over two weeks. According to her mother the girl’s been staying with her aunt in Chester, but social services have had their concerns.’
‘Oh my god little Lucy, that’s who she is!’ said Carla mortified. ‘I was sure I knew her, oh that poor little girl, you remember her Frank…the children in the mini-mart? How the hell did she end up dead in that garage?’ Carla felt terrible, as though somehow she’d let Lucy down.
‘Why didn’t social services check out Kathy Hunt’s story?’ Frank asked Mandy shaking his head.
She just shrugged, ’Don’t ask me…they just said that they had had some concerns about the situation…’
‘I just bet they have,’ said Carla scathingly, getting up and putting on her coat, ‘why is it that their concerns always seem to come too late.’
‘Oh and I’ve got a name for the owner of the garage,’ Mandy went on, ‘um…let me see,’ she rummaged around through some papers she was holding, ‘oh here it is…Josef Constantine, address 18 Chatsworth House…’
‘Right well we’d better go and speak to Mr Constantine
…but first I think we need to pay Kathy Hunt another visit don’t you, thanks Mandy…oh any luck with those cameras?’
‘No sorry Ma’am…the ones directly facing the garages have been vandalized, ditto the ones on Haversham Drive…so nothing to help us there I’m afraid.’
‘Ok, well we’ll just have to rely on good old fashioned detective work then won’t we…so this may take some time.’
Carla and Frank drove in silence to the ‘Buttercup’ estate, Carla was furious with herself. Andy and his mother had been brought in to the station a few days after the murder in the mini-mart, to go through mug shots. Lucy hadn’t come, she’d not been well according to Andy’s mum and Carla hadn’t questioned it, she had been surprised enough at Kathy Hunt’s co-operation. She did remember, however, that the woman had looked dreadful, bruises all over her face and an enormous sticking plaster on one cheek. Carla had asked if she needed to see a doctor, but the woman had almost spat at that her she didn’t need one. According to her she had tripped and hit her face on the kitchen work surface, if Carla was honest with herself she hadn’t been too sympathetic, just assuming that the woman had been blind drunk again.
Carla remembered being more concerned about Andy’s appearance; he had seemed even paler and thinner than she’d remembered, his worried eyes had looked huge in his young face and were surrounded by dark circles. He had been very withdrawn; staying close to his mother, his eyes darting back and forth to her before he answered any questions…she had put it down to nervousness at the time. He had looked at every single picture including those of Elliot ‘Nessie’ Dentch and Tony ‘Turk’ Lahars without a single sign of recognition; it was almost like he was on auto pilot.
Carla had been disappointed that they’d got nothing from Andy, but by that time Mandy had come up trumps spotting Nessie and Turk on another camera (one that amazingly hadn’t been vandalised) a few hundred yards further into the estate as they made their way towards Amish Patel’s shop that same night. They had been able to match the clothes they were wearing, but the big breakthrough had been when they were able to match the bags they were carrying with them, to the ones that were filled with the money and goods during the robbery. It was also pretty obvious that Nellie had been carrying a sawn off shotgun. So Andy’s identification, although it would have been useful, wasn’t as vital as it had been. Unfortunately both men seemed to have disappeared…but it was only a matter of time, their details had been circulated nationally, and Carla was sure they would turn up eventually.
Now though Carla needed to turn her attention to finding the bastard that had possibly raped and killed this little girl…so it was with a feeling of grim determination that Carla and Frank once again knocked on Kathy Hunt’s door.
CHAPTER 13 - 1986
Franklin hated him!
Hated the way he looked, with his shiny shoes and smart suits. Hated the way he spoke, especially when his mum wasn’t around, but most of all he hated the way his eyes would follow him around the room, picking him up on anything he did or said.
Mum seemed to think he was Mr Wonderful, ‘You listen to what Bobby say’s cus he knows what he’s talking about’ and ‘Frankie you must be a good boy and do what Bobby tells you…he’s a good man and I am not going to let you spoil things for me again!’
Franklin thought Mum was wrong…Bobby wasn’t a good man.
A good man wouldn’t keep calling him ‘pissy pants’ over and over…just because he had wet the bed one time. He hadn’t been able to hold on any longer, Mum had locked the door…she had been out with Bobby.
Mum had been furious and had shouted at him, but Bobby had just laughed and called him ‘pissy pants’, eventually even Mum had laughed at him.
A good man wouldn’t force food into his mouth and hold his mouth shut even though the food was making him sick.
Mum had pleaded with him, but he’d just carried on, ‘The boy needs to learn to eat what’s put in front of him. You’ve let him get away with murder Debbie; he needs to learn some respect.’
‘Oh come on Bobby, he’s only 7 years old…and he’s a good boy really…’
Mum had received a slap round the face for questioning Bobby that night…no Franklin didn’t think he was a good man.
He hated him!
CHAPTER 14 - TRACY
‘Ooh hello Tracy love, this is a nice surprise,’ said Nora beaming and crouching down to coo at baby Tilly who was smiling up at her from her buggy.
‘Well I was just on my way to pick Zack up from nursery, and I thought I would pop in, I’ve been meaning to speak to you for a couple of days now but you are a hard woman to pin down Nora Tinker,’ said Tracy unstrapping Tilly from the buggy and placing her in Nora’s waiting arms.
‘Hello my gorgeous girl…oh yes you are, you’re gorgeous,’ said Nora to Tilly who was pulling Nora’s nose and giggling. Nora turned to Tracy, ‘Why were you trying to speak to me?’ she asked as they went through to her tiny kitchen.
‘Well,’ began Tracy, ‘the other day I met one of our mysterious neighbours…you know from Duck Pond Cottage. Oh no thank you Nora I won’t have tea, I’m going straight to baby gym once I’ve got Zack and tea will just make me need to pee all afternoon…so as I was saying, mysterious neighbour.’
‘How exciting,’ exclaimed Nora. Tracy and Nora had been fantasizing about their invisible neighbours for months. ‘What’s she like…is she terribly disfigured?’ That had been one of the more popular theory as to why no one had actually seen the neighbours in question.
‘It was a he, not a she…and I’d have to say that there was absolutely nothing wrong with the way he looked…absolutely nothing,’ repeated Tracy with emphasis.
‘Oh even more exciting, a handsome husband…you didn’t see his wife though… interesting…maybe she’s a dangerous madwoman and he’s locked her in the attic…’
‘Um I think you are getting a bit too “Charlotte Bronte” Nora,’ said Tracy holding up a hand, ‘his wife, as it happens, is a singer who travels the world and he goes with her. He is called Tim, Tim Boulter and his wife is…um Louisa I think he said…’
‘Oh my god,’ said Nora standing up so fast that Tilly let out an enormous burp over her shoulder. ‘Not Louisa Boulter…she’s amazing, I’ve got one of her CD’s…she’s one of the best sopranos in the world! Imagine that, Louisa Boulter…my neighbour.’
‘Blimey,’ said Tracy, ‘I’d never heard of her…although they must have a few bob living in that gorgeous house, well, well, well…anyway that’s not what I wanted to ask you. Tim was wondering if you had any idea who owns the big house…you know the one that backs onto my garden, something about some trees that need cutting down. He says he has tried to get hold of them but they are never home, mentioned something about a noisy party though…’
‘Oh don’t get me started about that Trace…went on till after three it did. Loud music, people shouting and laughing…I had Poppy and Gabe with me at the time, Gabe was all for going over and having a word but I stopped him…thought it would only cause more trouble.’
Poppy and Gabe were the cook and handyman at ‘The Bull’ pub which had been almost destroyed by fire, Nora had kindly put them up until the pub was fit to be lived in again, and Tracy suspected that she was missing the company.
‘It used to be owned by the Robinsons,’ Nora went on, ‘they were a sweet old couple, had a couple of boys…quite late in life I think because they always seemed a bit too old to have young boys. He was a builder, quite successful, owned his own business and she was a teacher…I seem to remember that they bought a place in Portugal and went there when they retired, a few years ago now. I was always under the impression that the house had passed to the boys…Gordon and Freddy…but I have no idea what they did with it, could have sold it on I suppose…’
‘Hmm,’ said Tracy deep in thought, ‘well I might just walk round there and see if I can find out anything…thanks anyway Nora, I will let Tim know what you’ve told me. I think I will hav
e to organise an evening get together…so we can get to know the Boulters a bit better, you’ll come won’t you?’
Nora looked as if she was about to explode with excitement, ‘Too bloody right I will…who would have thought…Louisa Boulter,’ she said again reverently.
Tracy took her leave of Nora and went to pick up Zack from nursery, so it wasn’t until the next day that she managed to find the time to walk round to the big house. Despite it being at the end of her garden, there was no access to it from there and it was quite a walk to get round to the front entrance, so with Tilly asleep in her buggy Tracy set off. It was the first time that Tracy had walked in this direction and she was enjoying the lovely views over the hedgerows that ran along the narrow track.
The house itself was set behind ornate iron double gates, through which Tracy could see a long winding drive that swept round to the front of the beautiful ivy clad house. It was very impressive, like something out of an Agatha Christie novel, Tracy almost expected a white aproned maid to answer the door as she rang the bell a few minutes later. She was destined to be disappointed, the bell rang inside the house without response, so she turned to walk back home.
Just as she was leaving though a white van pulled into the drive, and a huge, rather rough looking man jumped out of the van and approached her aggressively.
‘Here, whatcha doing…this here is private property,’ he said looming over her.
‘Yes I know it is,’ said Tracy backing off a bit. ‘I was trying to find the owner actually…um you wouldn’t happen to know who they are would you…the people who own this house? I live at the end of their garden you see and I was just wondering…or rather MY neighbours were just wondering…’
‘Nah, I don’t know nuffin about that,’ the man said spitting on the ground near Tracy’s feet. ‘You had better clear off…they don’t like visitors, if you know what I mean…’
