‘You’re not on your own,’ said Alex, reaching over and squeezing her shoulder. ‘I’m here.’
Della shut down again. A few moments later the car turned a corner and the hospital loomed into view. Nan’s last resting place – an ugly, five-storey mass of grey concrete and metal.
‘It shouldn’t be too hard to find Gillian,’ said Maggie casually. ‘Tie up some loose ends.’
Della caught the look Maggie gave her and her mind began to whirl. Was she suggesting Gillian might know something about the people in the photo? Then it hit her. What if Gillian knew where Helen was now? What if Helen had got in touch with her and they were friends again after all these years?
‘The advancement in technology has made it easier to track people down. It’s much harder to disappear without leaving a trail now,’ said Maggie. ‘Same goes for committing a crime.’
Her eyes drawn to the side mirror, Della watched as Alex shifted awkwardly in his seat.
39
The headache that had plagued Lou from the moment she woke up was getting worse under the supermarket’s strip lighting. Wincing from the pain caused by last night’s excesses, she pushed the wire trolley up the dairy aisle towards the shelves heaving with plastic containers of milk.
Mae flailed angrily on the green plastic seat at the front of the trolley – now her little legs were getting used to walking she hated being forced to stay seated and she was noisily voicing her anger. Lou ignored her and the stares of other shoppers as she chucked two four-pint cartons of whole milk into the trolley. Her eyes were then drawn to the ready-made milkshake on the shelf above that she sometimes bought the boys for a treat. A rough calculation in her head told her she couldn’t afford it this week. Not with money even tighter than usual.
Years of coping as a single mum had taught her to budget well. For a short time when Jude was a baby she’d returned to work part-time as an admin assistant at the skip hire firm she’d joined straight from school, leaving Maggie or her mum to mind him. But once Maggie began her police training and her parents moved to the south coast, Lou couldn’t afford proper childcare so she stopped work altogether to be supported by the state. It wasn’t how she wanted to live and she prided herself on accepting the bare minimum in government handouts, getting by on the money she received each month from Maggie and also from Jerome’s parents. After his death they had also gifted her the deposit to buy the house where she and the children now lived.
Her own parents, Jeanette and Graeme, gave her little. While they would never dream of voicing it, Lou could tell they were uncomfortable with Jude and Scotty being mixed race and her dad had made every excuse not to hold the boys after they were born. His immediate acceptance of Mae, white-skinned and born within wedlock, upset Lou deeply and it was out of fury and protective pride for her sons that she’d rejected her dad’s offer to loan her some money ‘for Mae’s sake’ now she and Rob were divorced. Besides, even if she did take the loan she had no way of paying it back. Every penny she received was accounted for – or had been until she started seeing Arturs.
Their nights out were burning through her cash at an alarming rate. Halfway through November and she barely had enough money to see her through to the weekend, let alone to the end of the month. The only saving grace was that she received her child benefit payments weekly, so the next two instalments would tide her over. But there was nothing spare for emergencies.
Her guilt grew as she swung the trolley into the next aisle. She knew it was irresponsible to be using money meant for the children and for bills on enjoying herself and she had tried to tell Arturs last night in the pub that she couldn’t go out as much. She’d risked enough leaving Jude in charge again, but to her relief the evening had passed without incident and when she got home, earlier and marginally less inebriated than she had been the night before, all three children were fast asleep in their beds.
Arturs hadn’t been impressed when Lou said she’d have to scale back their nights out though, and made his irritation known by doing the one thing he knew would hurt her – chatting up another woman. He’d waited until Lou had gone to the toilet before scooting over to the next table to talk to a girl barely in her twenties. He’d even eyeballed Lou directly as he nuzzled the girl’s neck while leaning in to whisper something. His message to Lou was crystal clear: you’re easily replaceable.
Lou’s eyes pricked with tears as she reached for the cheapest baked beans on the shelf. Once was a time when she’d never let any man treat her with such casual disdain but it was like she’d forgotten how to stand up for herself. Rob leaving her for Lisa had crushed her confidence to the extent that instead of doing what she should’ve done, which was to walk out and leave Arturs to it, she’d ended up apologizing for upsetting him. The upshot was they were going out tonight for the third evening running while Jude baby-sat again. She had briefly toyed with asking Maggie to watch the kids but realized she couldn’t risk Jude or Scotty letting slip she’d left them and Mae alone the night before as well. It was two days since she’d spoken to her sister and she missed her.
‘Mama,’ said Mae suddenly, reaching for Lou with her chubby fingers. Her little face was curdled with worry.
Lou quickly wiped her eyes and forced a smile.
‘Hey, Mummy’s fine,’ she said.
She bent down to kiss her but Mae clung on to the front of her coat.
‘Mama!’ she wailed.
Lou scooped her out of the trolley and hugged her tight. She hated the kids seeing her upset. Even when Rob walked out she wouldn’t cry in front of them. The only person she ever allowed to see her at her lowest was Maggie.
Mae screamed and bucked wildly when Lou tried to get her back into the trolley so she hitched her onto her hip and pushed it with one hand. The next aisle was crisps and nuts and Lou was about to swerve to avoid it when her guilt got the better of her.
‘Why don’t we get your brothers a snack for after school? How about some crisps or popcorn?’ She couldn’t afford either but if she was going to spend money on going out again, the boys deserved a treat too. As she browsed the aisle, Mae excitedly clapped her chubby hands together and Lou smiled.
As long as the kids were okay, she’d manage.
40
Thirteen point five togs of duvet and a blanket covered her fully clothed body but still Bea shivered as though she was freezing cold. She burrowed further down the mattress until only the top of her head was visible on the pillow. If anyone came into her bedroom they might have to look twice to notice her lying there.
She’d gone straight to bed as soon as she’d arrived home. She wanted to hide away and shut out all the bad things that were happening. For the first time in a long time her phone was switched off and still at the bottom of her bag.
The curtains in her bedroom were lined with blackout material and since pulling them shut she’d lost all track of time. At some point, after dozing off, she became aware of noises downstairs. Either her mum was back from the charity shop or school had finished and Esme was home. Bea shuffled further down the bed and stuck her fingers in her ears to shut out the muffled sounds of family life being played out below.
She didn’t hear the knocking on her door at first. Eventually the raps grew louder and more insistent, rousing her from the depths of her bed.
‘Yes?’
‘Can I come in?’ said Esme.
‘No.’
‘Please, Bea. I’ve got something for you.’
‘I don’t want it.’
Her sister evidently wasn’t prepared to take no for an answer and flung the door open.
‘Why is it so dark in here?’
Without asking if Bea minded, Esme switched on the overhead light and plonked herself down next to her on the bed. Her right hand was behind her back and she was holding something in it.
‘Have you been in bed all day?’ said Esme with a smile.
Bea replied with a scowl. They got on okay as a rule but her sister’s unrelenting
cheeriness wound her up at times. Esme viewed the world through a prism of optimism, never crying and rarely getting upset. Even as a baby she’d hardly ever grizzled. She had the same blondish-brown hair and big brown eyes as Bea, but unlike her Esme wore a permanent smile. People who met them guessed immediately they were sisters but Bea’s slighter, shorter frame meant they usually assumed Esme was the eldest.
In some ways Esme was the more mature sister – certainly she was in temperament. When Bea’s bulimia was diagnosed and their parents became frantic with worry, Esme had been exposed to conversations a child of ten would not normally be privy to and had been forced to grow up quickly as a consequence.
‘I’m not in the mood for a telling-off,’ Bea said.
‘Don’t be nasty, I’ve bought you a present.’
Emse’s hand came out from behind her back holding a Kinder egg.
Bea couldn’t stop the smile spreading across her face. ‘Oh wow, I haven’t had one of those in years!’
‘I hoped you might like it,’ said Esme, looking pleased. ‘I thought it was something you could manage to eat. I heard Mum say you’re seeing Dr Reynolds again on Monday.’
Bea was touched. Esme tried so hard to understand her complicated issues with eating and she loved her for it. She took the Kinder egg from her, unwrapped it and broke off a piece of the two-tone chocolate. It melted against her tongue.
‘Want some?’
‘No, it’s all yours. Hey, something funny happened on my way home from school. This boy stopped me and said I had nice hair. Can you believe it!’ said Esme, giggling.
‘That’s only because you’ve brushed it for a change,’ Bea teased as she wolfed down the rest of the chocolate. She set the plastic egg on her bedside table, feeling too old for the toy it concealed.
‘He was really hot.’
‘From the boys’ school?’
‘No. That’s why it was so brilliant, cos he was old. Not old old, but grown up, like twenty or something. Amelia was so jel.’
Bea tensed. ‘What did he look like?’
She listened with growing horror as her little sister described Sean right down to the silver ring he wore on the middle finger of his right hand.
‘Do you know what he said then?’ Esme squealed, her cheeks reddening. ‘“Hope I see you around.” Me! He hopes to see me!’
Bea feigned a giggle but inside she wanted to scream. Sean was never going to leave her alone and now he was going after Esme too. She couldn’t bear to think what he might do to her dear, sweet, smiley sister if he got his hands on her.
‘He sounds way too old,’ she said, pulling the duvet back up to her chin so Esme couldn’t see she was shaking.
‘I’m nearly thirteen! He was only paying me a compliment.’
‘Stopping a schoolgirl in the street like that is creepy. Mum and Dad would go nuts if they knew.’
Esme instantly looked worried. She usually did as she was told and didn’t like getting into trouble – Bea suspected she tried so hard not to be a nuisance to their parents because they’d had so much on their plate for the past couple of years with her illness.
‘Please don’t tell them. I didn’t really talk back to him. All I did was smile.’
‘All right, I won’t say anything. But if he ever stops you again, you must tell me, okay?’
Esme nodded but concern lingered on her face.
‘I will, I promise. Can I get in with you?’ She kicked off her school shoes. ‘Can we watch Friends for a bit? There’s bound to be one on.’
‘Sure.’ Bea shuffled across to make room. A small, flat-screen TV was attached to the wall at the end of her bed and she flicked it on using the remote. The room filled with the sound of American accents and studio laughter, and Bea hooked her arm round her sister’s shoulders, pulling her close. As Esme snuggled against her and laughed at the TV, Bea began to relax.
Here they were safe.
41
The mood in HDU was even more sombre than usual. The ward clerk was the same one who’d been on duty that morning and she tensed as Maggie approached her desk, her eyes red and tumid.
‘Can I help you, officer?’
‘I’m here to collect Mrs Bramwell.’
The woman’s shoulders dropped a fraction and the rigidity eased from her expression. She must’ve thought Maggie was there because of the inquiry into Sadie’s death, yet it wouldn’t be a police matter unless it was discovered the incorrect dosage had been administered deliberately. From the details that had been passed to Nathan earlier by the hospital administration it was being treated as human error.
‘I don’t think her discharge has been signed off. Her consultant . . .’ The clerk’s voice grew tight again, as though it was an effort for her to talk. ‘He’s not here right now.’
So the consultant treating Eleanor was the same one suspended over Sadie’s death. Maggie recalled their last conversation, how exhausted and overworked he’d seemed, and she felt a pang of sympathy. The poor man’s entire career could be in jeopardy because the demands of his job had made him too tired to think straight. As a police officer she understood how easy it was to reach that point, but then she wasn’t dealing with matters of life or death. If the consultant had caused Sadie’s death, unwittingly or not, he couldn’t go unpunished.
‘Is there anyone else who can do it?’
‘Let me find out for you.’
‘Thanks. We need to get it done now.’
‘Why don’t you wait with Mrs Bramwell and I’ll find someone straight away,’ said the clerk. ‘It shouldn’t take long.’
Maggie felt contrite for putting pressure on HDU staff when the department was in a state of turmoil but now she was FLO to both Eleanor and Della she had to manage her time carefully between them. Taking Eleanor to the hotel while Della was viewing Sadie’s body seemed like a sensible use of it. Alex had said he would arrange for them to get a taxi home when Della was ready, then Maggie would go round later to check on her. Hopefully by then Eleanor would be settled at her new digs.
As she watched the ward clerk reach for the phone to page another doctor, Maggie knew at some point she’d need to sit down and fill in her log for both cases. Every FLO was required to fill out a daily log detailing conversations they’d had with relatives and anyone else they came into contact with who was relevant to the investigation. In the case of Sadie Cardle that meant Della and her questionable boyfriend. Maggie tried to avoid making snap judgements about people as a rule – her detective brain automatically fished around before she formed a deciding opinion – but there was something about Alex that made it hard for her to warm to him. He was almost too good to be true: attentive, caring, accessible – yet experience and training had taught her it was those relatives a FLO should be most wary of, as eagerness to help could often be a mask for guilt. So, after dropping the pair of them off at the morgue, she’d called Renshaw to suggest they look into his alibi for Monday evening and Tuesday morning, just in case.
Twenty minutes later Maggie carried Eleanor’s overnight bag as they walked towards the car park. Eleanor’s right arm was in a sling to support her injured shoulder and she’d been given an outpatients appointment for Monday to have her dressings changed. With no friends or relatives to help, the task of getting her to the appointment would probably fall to Maggie. She had to hope there was no cause for Della to need her at that time too.
‘I’m concerned about leaving you alone at the hotel,’ said Maggie. ‘What if you start to feel worse?’
‘Then I’ll call reception for help. Please, I want to get out of here. I hate being surrounded by so much illness and death,’ said Eleanor with a shudder. ‘Just this morning a lady died in the room along from mine. She was old, but still.’
Maggie guessed she was talking about Sadie but made no acknowledgement of the fact.
‘She was alone too when it happened. It made me think of Simon. In spite of everything, I hope he’s not on his own. His parents are both dead
but he has a lot of friends. Do you know if anyone is with him?’
‘He’s under police guard so I don’t imagine visitors are permitted,’ said Maggie. ‘I can ask when I speak to DI Green, who you met on Tuesday. She’s now in charge of the case.’
They eventually reached Maggie’s Toyota. After helping Eleanor into the passenger seat and putting her small suitcase of belongings in the boot, Maggie opened the rear door behind the driver’s seat to toss in her own bag but she threw it too hard and the contents spilled out. Pages from Helen Cardle’s missing person’s file, which she’d been planning to take home that evening to study further, scattered across the back seat. She gathered them up as Eleanor peered over her shoulder.
‘Is that another case?’ she asked as Maggie slid a headshot of Helen back into the file.
‘Not exactly.’
‘Who’s the woman?’
‘A missing person,’ said Maggie reluctantly, uncomfortable discussing another case with Eleanor.
‘Is she to do with the woman who died this morning? They have the same surname, don’t they?’ Eleanor shrugged. ‘I heard the nurses talking about her after she died and they said her name. It’s the same one on the front of the file.’
‘I can’t discuss it I’m afraid,’ said Maggie, tucking the file under her handbag and shutting the rear door. She climbed into the driver’s seat as Eleanor remarked: ‘Your job must be fascinating.’
Maggie was stumped for a response. It wasn’t often a victim expressed a keen interest in what she did for a living, much less one of a very recent and very violent crime. Their concern was usually limited to the investigation relating to themselves and she could only conclude that Eleanor’s questions were a way of deflecting any conversation about her own situation.
Mansell was spread across the floor of a basin in a part of Buckinghamshire known as the Chiltern Hills. A chalk escarpment more than forty miles long, stretching through Buckinghamshire into the neighbouring counties of Oxfordshire and Bedfordshire, the area was characterized by steep hills soaring over deep vales.
Wrong Place Page 18
