Home Help (DI Falle Book 2)

by Gwyn GB

  'Mum, dad hasn't been in contact with us for over 24 hours and so I've reported him as missing. I don't want you worrying because it's probably absolutely fine.'

  'Missing, what do you mean, where is he? I thought you said he'd left early this morning.'

  'No mum, I don't know where he is right now, I'm sorry. Has he ever done anything like this before?'

  Her mum shook her head.

  'So was he not here this morning?' her mother repeated, the news taking time to sink in.

  'No mum. He didn't come home last night and I can't reach him on his mobile,'

  Her mother put her hand to her mouth and paled.

  'I don't understand, where can he have gone?'

  'That's what I hope we'll find out soon mum,' Fran had taken her mother's hand.

  'It will be alright Susan, he'll turn up right as rain. It will be just a misunderstanding,' she reassured her.

  Claire heard the lack of confidence in her voice and hoped her mother didn't hear it too.

  Claire's mobile phone rang. She was quick to respond, hoping it would be someone with some news, or maybe even her father angry that she'd told everyone he was missing when he'd just been sulking at a B & B somewhere. She didn't recognise the number so she walked through into the sitting room to take the call.

  'Hello?'

  'Claire?' It was a woman's voice. She sounded familiar but she couldn't immediately recognise it.

  'Yes, who is this please?'

  'Claire, it's Theresa. I was with your mum yesterday.'

  Then it hit her, she does recognise the voice, it was Rachel Hill.

  'Rachel!'

  There's silence for a few moments while both women compute what to say next.

  'Yes,' Rachel said, 'Please can you let me talk. I'm calling about your dad.'

  'What have you done with him? Where is he?' Claire almost shouts down the phone at her. Her heart was pounding so hard she had to sit down because she thought she was going to pass out.

  'I haven't done anything with him Claire. I'm calling because I'm concerned about him, I saw the Twitter post saying he was missing. I think he might be in danger.'

  'Why? How would you know?'

  'Yesterday, when I called round for your mother, he was there too. Your mum said he was working. Then he got quite agitated, excited, I got the impression that he was working on a case.'

  'Why are you telling me this?'

  'Because I think he might be in trouble, like I said, and because, well, I'm not sure your mum will have remembered what he said. She seems to have some times where she forgets things or gets confused, are you aware of that?'

  'Yes,'

  'OK, good, I wasn't sure if you knew...'

  'Why are you here Rachel? Why are you lying to my mother and pretending to be someone you're not? Why did you leave London like that and just disappear?'

  'Claire, look I'm really sorry. About London, I was scared, really scared. I'd had that stalker threatening me for months and then when you told me who it was, well, I just panicked. I thought you might actually believe the lies. I'd sold the house, my job at the agency was gone, I just thought I had nothing to lose, I should leave. I'm sorry but I thought you were there to arrest me, I just didn't know who to trust.'

  'Even if that's all true, why are you in Jersey and talking to my mother?'

  There was silence for a few moments again, the tension ticked across the telephone waves between them.

  'I liked you Claire, you'd been good to me during the investigation and I felt really bad about just disappearing like that. Then when you brought that woman out and said she was my mother… You know my mother is dead, that woman is not my mother. I couldn't understand why you would do that. It upset me. You didn’t seem to see much of your parents, so I thought I'd get to know them a bit better.'

  'That's stalking Rachel,' Claire nearly shouted again.

  'No it's not, I promise you there's nothing malicious. I don't have anyone, no family, no one, I guess I wanted to get to know yours. I know what it looks like I'm sorry, but really I'm calling because I’m trying to help you Claire, I think your dad may have got himself into trouble. Please let me help you.'

  'Why should I trust you? For all I know you're the reason why he's disappeared. You realise that I am going to have to report this, that I will have to say you're in Jersey and they will want to question you about what went on in London.'

  'I realise that, it’s not what I’d like because I’m sure I’ll be charged with giving you the sleeping pills, but it's fine. I've done nothing else wrong. If you want to report me then do. I'm not going to run. I'm due at the airport soon, but I'm sure when you check my phone signal you'll work that out anyway - just saving you the trouble.'

  Claire was completely floored. She felt like she'd just entered another universe where reality had been flipped upside down.

  Rachel took her silence as an opportunity.

  'Your dad said that he'd worked out who it is, that it isn't James, it's his sister. I have no idea what that means, but I'm hoping you do because if he went round and confronted her maybe she did something, maybe that's where he is?'

  'James's sister?' Claire questioned aloud. She pulled her mind out of the shock of hearing Rachel's voice and started to focus back on the case, 'Is that all he said?'

  'Yes, then he went straight out. That does help doesn't it?'

  'Maybe,' Claire raced through all she knew about Gillian Faber. She had opportunity. The woman worked in James's house and they'd found spyware on his computer and phone. Hadn't she said her son was a whizz on computers? Motive, could be that she was jealous that James inherited everything and she got nothing. But really? Would she really be capable of planning something this big? A middle aged cleaning woman living in a grotty run down flat.

  Rachel's voice interrupted her thoughts.

  'Good, I hope it's helped. Don't feel like because I've told you this you shouldn't report me. You do what you think is right.'

  'I will,' Claire said automatically, her anger towards Rachel's deception, returning.

  'OK, bye Claire, good luck I hope you find him.'

  With that the phone went dead and Claire was left reeling. She'd been right, it was Rachel she'd seen, she had been visiting her mother. Could she trust her? Was she telling the truth? She couldn’t see how else she would know about James Parkin and his sister otherwise - unless somehow Rachel had her dad? No, that just couldn't be true. Rachel couldn't be behind this whole elaborate network of insider dealing. Perhaps she was telling the truth, perhaps she really did want to help. In which case, had her dad definitely meant Gillian?

  Claire got on the phone to the station straight away and asked one of the team to check if James Parkin had any other siblings. She held on the phone until they came back and told her it was a no. So the only person her dad could have meant was Gillian Faber. Could Gillian be Melusine?

  45

  Claire, Sunday 12th November 2017, Jersey

  Claire ran on auto-pilot from this point, as though she was living in a different reality to the one she was in yesterday. Fran promised to stay with her mother and so she headed straight to St Helier and to Gillian's flat. This could all be a wild goose chase. Rachel had got her into enough trouble in the past 24 hours so she wasn’t going to call this one in to the station. She'd think of an excuse, say she'd come back to check on something, a new lead they needed her help with and that would give her the chance to check the place out. Check Gillian out a bit more.

  When she arrived, she sat for a few moments in the car just getting her head together. This had been one crazy morning. She felt elated that she wasn't going crazy, that she had seen Rachel, but she was terrified about what could have happened to her father. If Gillian was Melusine, then she'd already killed twice. She wouldn't hesitate to get rid of a nosey retired police officer.

  She knew she should call this in. If Bob found out she had serious information and that she was acting on her own, he'd
go crazy. On the other hand, if she called it in and said Rachel told her, then he'd think her crazy anyway. No, she had to do this herself.

  She'd tell Gillian that they just needed to check a couple of details with her, ask her if James was having an affair or had money troubles. Maybe think of a few questions about Melanie. Somehow she'd have to distract her and take a look around the flat, there were only two bedrooms and a bathroom, she'd seen the doors leading off as they'd walked in, she could ask to go to the toilet and then walk into the bedrooms accidentally.

  Her adrenaline was racing as she got out the car. She couldn't see her dad's Toyota anywhere along the street, but it could have been moved by now. As she crossed the road her heart thumped in her chest, what was she doing? Was she going to make a complete fool of herself again?

  The entrance door was still broken so she got straight in and up to the first floor. Outside the door to number three, she hesitated, listening intently for any sounds from inside. There was silence. She probably wasn’t even in. Claire knocked on the door. For a few minutes dread came over her as she imagined a million different images of Gillian and her son off somewhere, dumping her father's lifeless body into the sea, or digging a shallow grave in a wood.

  Then footsteps and she heard the little disc that covered the peep hole slide open.

  'Gillian, Mrs Faber, could I possibly come in. I'm sorry to bother you on a Sunday but I just need to ask you a couple of questions, it won't take long I promise.'

  'I'm not really feeling up to it,' came the muffled response from behind the door.

  She sounded like the middle aged woman she was and Claire's doubts set in again - was Rachel playing her? Yet if she didn't check, if it later transpired that her father was in the flat maybe being held captive, then she would have his death on her conscience along with her brother's. She wasn’t going to let that happen again.

  'Please Mrs Faber, I won't take a minute,' she pressed. ‘It’s quicker if I ask you now rather than getting you down to the station.’

  The footsteps walked away from the door and she heard a click as though another internal door was being closed, then they came back and the front door chain and lock were opened.

  'How can I help?' Gillian Faber stood hugging the door to her, she clearly had no intention of inviting Claire in.

  'Thank you, I've got a few er, sensitive questions to ask, could we go inside please?'

  There was no doubting she wasn’t keen, but that could be for a whole host of innocent reasons. Not least the fact it was a Sunday and she didn't want to have to spend time answering questions from a police officer. Claire was still not convinced. How on earth could this woman have set her half brother up, and run an insider dealing network? She's a cleaner, but then didn't she say that she had only started cleaning because it was the one job she could get to be flexible enough for looking after her son? As she stood on Gillian's threshold, the realisation hit Claire. She had access to James's office, she had access to their phones, everyone trusted her. And the others? If they checked the share transactions and where they thought the information had leaked from, would they lead back to Suzette's husband David, or Anna's husband Jason Scott - didn't he work for a bank?

  Claire hoped her face had given away nothing of what had just gone through her head.

  'Mrs Faber, can we go inside please?' she repeated. Determination was in her voice now, she was not leaving until she'd properly checked this flat. A part of her wanted to push past her and shout out for her dad, but that would be foolish. Gillian's son could come out and either hurt her or her father, and if she was wrong, if her dad wasn't here? Well then that would be yet another black mark on her career. No, she'd play this safe, just as she'd planned.

  Gillian's face wavered, but she opened the door to let Claire in.

  'Thank you, as I said I won't take long.' Claire strode into the flat noticing that all the doors along the entrance corridor were now closed. There were no other signs of life in the flat, no indications that Gillian's son was in.

  'Your son playing on his computer games again?' she asked, trying to make her voice sound light and sociable.

  'No actually, he's gone on holiday. Left yesterday,' Gillian replied. She'd gone to sit down in the same chair as she did last time and was eyeing Claire suspiciously. 'What did you want to ask me?'

  'Well, I hope you don't mind,' Claire began, and then decided to go straight in for the jugular and see the reaction, 'I understand that James Parkin is your half brother?'

  Gillian's face twitched, it was a tiny movement, but it told Claire more than enough.

  'Yes,' Gillian smiled now, 'We shared the same father, although my mother wasn't married to him like James's mother.'

  'And does James know?' Claire pressed.

  'Yes he knows. I told him years ago, just after our father died and just after Peter's father, my ex husband, had left us. James inherited everything of course. He said he wanted to help and so he gave me a job as his cleaner.'

  'I see, that was probably not what you were hoping for,' Claire watched Gillian's every move.

  Gillian's face hardened.

  'Why are you asking me about this? What does it have to do with your murder enquiry?'

  Claire smiled innocently at her. 'I'm just trying to build up a picture of James's family life.'

  'I see, but why James? Surely you don't suspect him?' Gillian asked.

  The forced innocence leaked through into the question, Claire picked up on the slight inflection that shouldn't have been there. She smiled back.

  'All routine enquiries,' she said. 'I'm really sorry to have to ask, but I've been out and about all morning and I really need to go to the ladies, would you mind if I use your toilet?' Claire stood up.

  Gillian jumped up quickly, it was obvious that she was uncomfortable with this whole situation.

  'Of course I'll show you,' she said but in the rush she knocked over the table lamp she said her father had bought her, and it tinkled to the floor.

  Claire took advantage of the distraction, 'No need, just tell me which one,' she moved as fast as she could without making it obvious.

  Her hand was on the handle of the first door before Gillian could catch up with her, Claire prayed it wasn’t the bathroom, but if she remembered rightly from the last time they were here, it must be Gillian's bedroom. The door opposite was the one Peter came out of and he went into the far right for the bathroom.

  'That's not it,' Gillian said, but Claire had pushed it open and stepped inside. She scanned the room quickly, a suitcase was on the bed and some of the contents of the wardrobe had been pulled out, but there was nothing else unusual. The bedroom was plain and functional, just like its owner.

  'I do apologise,' Claire smiled back.

  'The bathroom is the one on the far right,' Gillian added having caught up with her now and she tried to block Claire's way. She was stood in front of her son's bedroom door - but Claire was not going to be blocked. She was not going to let this woman stop her from opening that door.

  The situation completely turned. As soon as Gillian realised Claire's intention, she pushed her back to try to stop her.

  'What are you doing?' she shouted at her, 'You've no right nosing around my flat.'

  Claire ignored her, putting her hand on the handle. Gillian launched at her shoving her hard and banged her shoulder into the door frame. She was strong, but Claire was ready for it. She shoved her back sending Gillian sliding along the wall as she tried to keep upright.

  Gillian made a garbled screaming noise as Claire opened the door.

  Inside was dark, the curtains drawn. She could see the outline of computer screens and a large double desk. There was a bed to the right, and on the floor a prone shape of a man. She stepped into the room. It was her dad. His hands were tied, there was a gag around his mouth, blood on his forehead and his eyes were closed.

  'You have no right,' Gillian screamed at her again as Claire pressed the panic button on her police
radio and called for back-up.

  'I thought he was a burglar, he broke in and attacked me,' Gillian was now telling Claire, completely changing her demeanour – she realized she was in trouble. 'I hit him in self defence and then I was too scared to tell anyone,'

  Claire ignored her, she called for an ambulance and she turned, grabbed Gillian roughly by the arms and shoved her up against the wall, pulling her hands together and cuffing her. 'I'll read you your rights in a minute,' she said.

  Claire switched on the light and turned back round to her father. He was deathly white, but she didn't think he was dead yet. She'd seen enough corpses to recognise when there was no life. The question was just how much life was left in him.

  She knelt beside him feeling for a pulse, 'Dad, dad can you hear me, it's Claire,'

  Behind her there was a gasp from Gillian, 'He's your dad?'

  Claire ignored her, the blood was rushing around her head so fast she thought she might collapse herself.

  Then she felt it, a faint throbbing beneath her fingers, he was definitely still alive,'

  'Look, I'm really sorry, it was an accident. I never meant to hurt him but he attacked me, he broke in,' Gillian's pleading voice irritated Claire.

  She looked up at her and wished she could just smash her face with her fist, 'Shut up,' she said instead through gritted teeth. It worked.

  Claire picked up her phone again and dialed Bob's mobile, 'You need to come to Gillian Faber's flat now,' she said, ending the phone call before he'd even had time to reply. Outside the sound of sirens heralded the arrival of the ambulance and back-up. All she could think about right now was getting her dad to hospital. She'd worry about everything else later.

  46

  Claire, Sunday 12th November 2017, Jersey

  The paramedics had her father on oxygen and his vital signs monitored within minutes. He started to come round, his eyes misty and distant, but he managed to see Claire and mouthed her name. It was a good sign, she heaved a sigh of relief and called her mother. Fran would drive her to the hospital, she'd be so relieved to see him.