It took a while but finally Maggie spotted the face she’d hoped to find, in the background of a photograph of some children throwing balls at a coconut shy.
Although the image was indistinct, it was clear that Eleanor Bramwell was much less groomed back then in her twenties. Her hair, a much darker blonde than it was now, was centre parted, falling lankly around her face, and she was wearing a shapeless navy maxi dress and flip-flops.
The caption at the foot of the photograph only listed the names of the children in the foreground. Disappointment rose inside her. All it proved was that Eleanor was in Mansell on the same day Helen went missing – there was nothing to show they knew each other and it certainly didn’t explain why Eleanor appeared to be targeting the Cardle family now. In her notebook Maggie jotted down a few theoretical questions to follow up with DI Green:
Did they go to the same school – bullying? Helen bully, Eleanor victim?
Family friends – parental feud?
Potential boyfriend issue – did they share same ex?
Did Eleanor also know Niall/Fleur/Ross/Kelvin from the other photo?
As she rested her pen on her notebook, rereading the questions she’d written down, Maggie had another thought, one almost too horrifying to contemplate. She scrabbled for her phone to call DS Renshaw.
‘Hey, what’s up?’ Renshaw answered. ‘I’m at the Langston now.’
‘I think we should check the hospital CCTV for the hours before Sadie Cardle was given that incorrect dose to see if Eleanor Bramwell went anywhere near her.’
Renshaw swore loudly. ‘Seriously?’
‘Yes. I think because of the photographs we found in room 202 we can assume Eleanor was behind the break-in at Sadie’s house and not the Con Couple. And if she attacked Sadie at her home and left her for dead, it’s not unfeasible to think that she might’ve decided to finish her off when she saw her at the hospital.’
‘Do you think Eleanor asked to be transferred to Mansell General for that reason?’
‘I don’t think she could’ve – she was unconscious when the decision was made and she wouldn’t have known Sadie had survived at that point. Also, think about it – would you ask to come back to Mansell if you’d just committed a crime here? My guess is it was most likely a toss-up between bringing her here or taking her to John Radcliffe in Oxford and she just got unlucky.’
‘Or lucky, if she did manage to kill Sadie after all. We’ll check the CCTV and I’ll also get a picture of her to show Audrey Allen, to see if she IDs her as the reporter who was at Sadie’s house on Monday evening,’ said Renshaw.
‘Audrey said the woman had long dark hair,’ Maggie pointed out. ‘Eleanor’s a blonde.’
‘She could’ve disguised herself with a wig to avoid detection. The girl in the Con Couple is a brunette – maybe she deliberately made herself look like her so we’d blame them for another break-in. The sodding Echo has printed so many details about the first burglaries that it wouldn’t be a stretch for anyone to copy them. Incidentally, the medical examiner has confirmed Sadie could’ve lain there all night, which means Eleanor could’ve attacked her before Audrey saw her leave around ten p.m. If the heating was on all night it would’ve prevented Sadie developing hypothermia and may well be why she didn’t die at the scene. I’ve already instructed the team to start liaising with DI Green’s lot at Trenton to establish the connection between Eleanor and the Cardle family. At the moment we’ve got nothing concrete.’
‘I might have something. I’m at the Echo at the moment, going through their archives.’ Maggie quickly explained that Della had found an old copy of the Echo at Sadie’s house featuring Helen at the Mansell Show, taken on the day she left town.
‘I’ve found a picture of Eleanor at the same show.’
‘In the same photograph?’
‘No, that’s the problem. She’s in the background of another one.’
‘It just proves they were at the same event, nothing else. Do we know that Eleanor’s originally from Mansell?’
‘I haven’t thought to ask her but she hasn’t mentioned it being her hometown.’
‘We’ll keep digging. I’m going to stay here at the hotel for a bit, then head back to the station. Are you going to see Della?’
‘I am, after I’ve finished here.’
‘Ask her if she knows Eleanor but don’t tell her why you’re asking.’
‘Okay. Look, this is awkward, but who do I report to now, you or DI Green? If the cases overlap, I mean?’
‘Both of us for the time being, until someone higher up the greasy pole decides otherwise.’
After ringing off, Maggie unspooled the film from the microfiche then replaced it with the one for September 1999.
What she hoped to find was a news report about Helen’s missing person’s case. If the police at the time had followed protocol, there should’ve been a public appeal for information. But all thoughts of it were forgotten when she called up the front page of the first issue for that month. Next to a headshot of Fleur Tatton, the woman pictured next to Helen at the Mansell Show, was the headline: THREE DEAD IN WOODLAND CRASH.
With a sharp intake of breath, Maggie read the text beneath it.
Three young friends died in a car accident at the notorious ‘Death Corner’ black spot in Barnes Woods in the early hours of Sunday 22 August.
Fleur Tatton, 21, Ross Keeble, 24, and Kelvin Cruickshank, 23, all from Mansell, were travelling in a Ford Transit minivan when they were in a head-on collision with a Rover SD1 driven by Malcolm McMinn, 62, from Henley, Oxfordshire.
Miss Tatton, of Raleigh Road, and Mr Cruickshank, of Frogmore Close, both died at the scene. Mr Keeble, also of Frogmore Close, passed away in hospital two days later from his injuries. The driver of the minivan, Niall Hargreaves, 23, of Layton Road, is in a critical but stable condition, while Mr McMinn suffered a broken leg and concussion.
Police have confirmed the minivan veered off the road and rolled down a steep embankment . . .
Maggie sat back, stunned. The accident had occurred only hours after they were at the Mansell Show with Helen; if she’d stayed with her friends and been in the car too, Sadie and Eric would’ve been informed. Had her decision to leave Mansell that day actually saved her life?
Maggie snapped an image of the front page on her phone and made a note of the issue date. She rewound the film and carefully removed it from the machine. There was no point sitting there for hours looking for more mentions of the crash: any further information she needed she could probably find in their own records.
Jennifer reappeared as she was shutting the machine off.
‘You done?’
‘Yep, found what I needed, thanks.’
‘I’ve just seen one of your old colleagues on Sky News.’
‘Oh, who?’
‘DCI Umpire, the one in charge of the Rosie Kinnock investigation.’
Maggie hastily turned away to pick up her handbag from the floor so Jennifer couldn’t see her face. Just hearing his name made her feel wretched.
‘Don’t you want to know why?’
‘Something to do with his new unit?’
‘Actually, it was about an attempted murder-suicide in Trenton. Apparently some husband tried to kill his wife and now she’s gone AWOL in Mansell. Umpire was appealing for her to come forward. Know anything about it?’
Maggie frowned. ‘Are you sure DCI Umpire was talking about that case?’
‘Yes. Kay Burley said he’s the officer in charge. My editor wants me covering the story now there’s a Mansell connection. Got any leads?’
Maggie’s mind was too full of questions to pay attention to Jennifer. Why were Umpire and HMET back on the Bramwell case? What the hell had happened to DI Green? Did that mean she’d have to report to HMET again? In a heartbeat she knew she couldn’t. She’d have to quit the case. She couldn’t continue if it meant having to deal with Umpire.
‘Do you know anything about why Eleanor Bramwell was in
Mansell?’ Jennifer pressed.
‘No, why would I?’
‘Wouldn’t it be a matter of courtesy to tell the local police if the victim of a major crime was being hidden on their patch?’
‘Hidden? That’s a bit dramatic.’
‘Well, wouldn’t they have told your lot?’
‘Probably, but I haven’t been privy to any conversations.’ Maggie hated lying, especially to a journalist, but she wanted to get out of the room. Her nostrils felt like they were clogged up with dust and she couldn’t breathe.
‘I’ve got to go.’ She shoved the boxes of microfiche film back into the filing cabinet drawer and slammed it shut. The cabinet wobbled precariously but stayed upright as the noise reverberated around the small space.
‘If you hear anything will you let me know?’ said Jennifer. She pressed a business card into a reluctant Maggie’s hand. ‘Here’s my mobile number. It would be great if you could return the favour for me letting you in here.’
‘Sure. I’ll call you.’
On her way back to her car Maggie passed a raised, bricked flower bed containing a few perennial plants that were just about weathering the autumn wind. She took Jennifer’s business card and shoved it between them.
55
Safely ensconced in her car, Maggie called Green.
‘Why is DCI Umpire giving interviews to Sky News and not you?’
‘Ah, I wondered when you might ring,’ said Green with a throaty chuckle. ‘Not just Sky News – I think the boys from the Beeb were there too.’
‘So HMET are running the Bramwell case again?’
‘No, I’m still SIO and my team are still investigating. ACC Bailey apparently thought it would look better if the DCI did the call-out for Mrs Bramwell as HMET were first on the case and he’s the force’s rising star after Rosie Kinnock.’
‘But that’s not fair. You’re in charge; you should’ve done it.’
‘Umpire’s got a better face for TV than I have. Not worth losing sleep over.’
Maggie bristled at the inference that DI Green couldn’t cut it in front of the media like Umpire. Was it a gender thing or an age thing? Whatever the reason, it annoyed her intensely and she was surprised Green wasn’t more pissed off about it. Or maybe she was used to being passed over in favour of her male colleagues.
‘Well, I’m pleased you’re still SIO.’
‘Not a fan of the DCI, are we?’
‘You have no idea,’ said Maggie, managing a weak smile.
‘I won’t ask why. Right, the bad news is there have been no sightings of Eleanor Bramwell yet, but the good news is my car’s been found.’
‘Where?’
‘Mansell train station, which means she could’ve hopped on a train to London or to Trenton and beyond. We’re checking the CCTV now and that should hopefully point us in the right direction.’
‘Have you spoken to her husband yet?’
‘Just about to: I’m outside the Princess Alexandra now. He was napping when we got here and the docs wouldn’t let us wake him.’
‘I can’t wait to hear what he says. I wonder if he is Della’s father? It’s the only motive for Eleanor’s behaviour I can think of.’
‘I’ll call you afterwards with an update. And thanks for what you said: it’s nice to know at least one person is happy with me at the helm.’
Della was pleased to see Maggie when she at last made it to her flat. She’d gone to Sadie’s house first, thinking Della might be there, but a quick phone call revealed her whereabouts. Alex, on the other hand, was less than welcoming.
‘What time do you call this? You said you’d be here this morning and it’s two o’clock. Della’s got dozens of questions for you and she’s been waiting anxiously to ask them.’
‘I’m sorry I’ve kept you waiting. There was nothing I could do to get away sooner.’
Della appeared at the door beside him.
‘It’s okay, Alex; she’s here now. What happened to your face?’ she asked Maggie.
‘I lost an argument with a suitcase. It’s a long story. Shall we sit down?’
The sofa creaked in protest as Maggie lowered herself onto it. It was more comfortable than it looked, however, and it took all of her restraint not to flop backwards: she was reaching the stage where she was so tired she was unable to think straight. At some point she needed to take a break and get something to eat, but after she’d finished with Della her plan was to pop home to check up on Lou and the kids. She felt bad she hadn’t checked in with them all day.
‘How are you?’ she asked Della.
‘I’m okay. I’m glad yesterday is over.’
Alex made a noise that could’ve been a snort or him clearing his throat; either way, it was clear she couldn’t have a conversation with Della with him in the room.
‘Alex, could you please give me a few minutes to talk to Della alone?’
He reacted with surprise but quickly recovered.
‘Anything you have to say to her I want to hear.’
‘That’s not how police investigations work, I’m afraid. Sometimes we have to talk privately to family members.’
‘I’m her boyfriend. That practically makes me family. You talk to her, you talk to me.’
What an odious prick, thought Maggie. She stood up.
‘Fine, if you won’t do as I ask I’ll have to take Della down to the station with me.’
‘Are you arresting me?’ Della yelped, horrified.
‘No. I just need to talk to you privately and it doesn’t seem like we can do that here.’
‘Alex, please,’ Della implored her boyfriend, who had turned puce. ‘Let’s not have another row.’
Maggie clocked the look that passed between them and wondered what else they’d been rowing about. Maybe she’d find out once she got Della on her own but Alex didn’t look like he was going to back down. Time to intervene.
‘Right, let’s get going, Della. I haven’t got time to argue about this.’
‘Fine, have it your way. I’ll go and get some more milk.’ Alex stropped out of the room and a few seconds later they heard a door slam. Della flinched.
‘Sorry, but I really do need to speak to you on your own, without interruption.’
‘You think Alex has something to do with it, don’t you? I saw you watching him in the car, and now you don’t want him to listen to us talking. But I know he didn’t hurt Nan or have anything to do with it, he couldn’t have done!’
‘No, Alex isn’t a suspect right now. We’ve checked his alibi for Monday evening and Tuesday morning and he was at his office.’
‘Why would you need to know where he was on Monday evening?’ said Della with a frown. ‘I thought whoever it was broke into Nan’s on Tuesday morning.’
‘That’s what we need to discuss now,’ said Maggie, sinking further into the sofa with another creak. ‘Did you know your nan didn’t go to bingo with Audrey on Monday evening as usual?’
‘No, I didn’t know that.’
‘Audrey told us your grandmother cancelled going because someone was coming to interview her about the desk your great-grandfather made for Winston Churchill. I take it from your expression that she hadn’t told you?’
‘No, she didn’t mention it,’ said Della, shocked. ‘Interviewed by who?’
‘We don’t know. We’ve ruled out the Echo, but it could’ve been for another newspaper or some kind of special interest magazine. I would’ve thought she’d have shared the news.’
‘I don’t understand why she didn’t. It’s not like her to keep something like that to herself. She would’ve been excited – she was very proud of her dad’s connection to Churchill. He actually met him, when he delivered the desk to Chequers.’
‘All I can think is that whoever it was asked her not to say anything. Does the name Eleanor Bramwell mean anything to you?’
Maggie watched Della intently for any sign of recognition but she seemed bewildered.
‘I’ve never heard
of her. Is she the reporter?’
‘We don’t know,’ said Maggie, ‘the name’s just cropped up.’
‘You said the reporter might have asked Nan to keep the interview quiet – why would they do that?’
‘Sometimes journalists want to protect their stories – maybe that’s why. I wonder, did Sadie write down her appointments in a diary at all?’
‘No, she has a calendar on the back of the kitchen door. She writes . . .’ a flicker of pain crossed Della’s face. ‘I mean, she wrote – stuff down on that. If she made a note of it anywhere, it’ll be on that.’
‘Are you fine for me to go to the house and check?’
Della nodded. ‘I wanted to ask you about the house actually. I need to let Quadrant know about Nan, but the minute I do they’ll say I’ve got to clear it out for the next tenant to move in.’ Her eyes filled with tears. ‘I’m not ready to do that.’
‘You know what, we probably need the house left as it is for now. I’ll talk to them for you.’
‘Oh, thank you. I want to hang on to it for as long as I can. It’s going to take me a while to sort through Nan’s belongings.’
‘Have you removed anything from the house so far?’
‘No, not yet.’
‘If the house is unoccupied, it’s probably wise to remove all the valuables and also any important paperwork. Talking of which, did you find the documents relating to the money your granddad left you?’
‘Yes. They were locked away in the bureau.’
‘Right.’
Della looked at her quizzically. ‘You almost look disappointed.’
Maggie fished for her next sentence, knowing she mustn’t give too much away at this stage.
‘New information has come to light that suggests it wasn’t the same couple who attacked the other pensioners.’
Wrong Place Page 24
