Inspector Kirby and Harold Longcoat

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Inspector Kirby and Harold Longcoat Page 3

by Ian Martyn


  ‘Sorry, I have to ask. Are you sure? It might be natural for Sarah to wonder about her. Do you think she might have tried to contact her?’

  Mr Cooper’s fist clenched again and his face reddened as he looked away from Kirby. ‘No, definitely not. She wouldn’t.’

  ‘You seem very sure about that. Her mother might have tried to contact her.’

  Cooper glanced out of the window again, and took a breath in an obvious effort to control his emotions. He turned back to Kirby. ‘Sarah would have told me. We… we have an understanding. That woman is… is…’

  ‘I’m sorry, Mr Cooper. Please…’

  Mr Cooper gave a small apologetic smile as he let his head sag. He nodded and whistled a breath through his teeth before looking up. ‘I understand what you’re saying, Inspector. You see, Sarah’s mum left when Sarah was two. We’ve never seen her or heard from her since. She’s never contacted us or shown any interest.’

  ‘Left?’

  Mr Cooper shook his head. ‘Ran off, to be more precise. With a magician of all people.’

  ‘Magician?’

  ‘Yes, Mephisto he called himself. He became quite big in the States for a while. However, if you look him up, nothing’s been heard of him for ten years. Marianne neither.’

  ‘And you never tried to contact her?’

  Again there was the clenching of the fist. ‘No, she’d made it quite clear she wanted nothing to do with me, us.’

  Kirby nodded. ‘Please go on. You were saying about when she left.’

  ‘Well, I guess me becoming an accountant was all too normal, boring for her. When we met, I was a bit wild. My parents had died in a car crash when I was ten and my grandparents couldn’t control me. Didn’t do uni. Had a band, drugs, parties. All very rock and roll. Marianne fitted right in, she was wilder than any of us. A true free spirit. She had, I dunno, what you might call charisma. With her doing the talking, we even got a recording contract.’

  ‘Then you became an accountant?’

  Mr Cooper laughed. ‘I know what you mean. We discovered our agent was ripping us off so someone had to look at the figures. I found I had a head for it and then Sarah came along and the rest, as they say, is history. I guess it wasn’t what Marianne was looking for.’ He shrugged. ‘But leaving your own daughter like that?’

  ‘And family?’

  ‘Marianne?’

  ‘Yes.’

  Mr Cooper shook his head. ‘Don’t know. She never mentioned any. Our wedding was just a few friends. If I ever mentioned it she changed the subject. Didn’t seem important.’

  ‘Hmm, do you have a photo of her?’

  Cooper shook his head. ‘Not here. At home somewhere, but that’s going to be nearly twenty years ago. As I said, if you go on the net you’ll find the odd one a bit more recent.’

  Kirby nodded. ‘Well, I think that’s all for now.’ He stood and moved towards the door. Cooper followed. ‘We will, of course, keep you informed. And if you hear from Sarah, or anyone who calls about Sarah, you will let us know, won’t you?’

  ‘Of course,’ Cooper said, reaching for the door knob. He stopped. ‘Wait, you think someone might have taken her? Why?’

  Kirby put a hand on Mr Cooper’s arm. ‘No, no, it’s just police speak. We have no reason to believe that.’ He opened the door himself. ‘I’ll show myself out.’

  Outside the building, Kirby took out his phone. ‘Ah Constable, where are you?’

  ‘Still at the girls’ flat, sir.’

  ‘Where’s Susie?

  ‘In the kitchen making me another cup of tea.’

  ‘Good for her. So?’

  ‘Nothing much, sir. Sarah’s room’s a bit untidy, a few clothes and stuff on the floor. Open text book on the desk with a few pages marked. Photos of her and friends on a pinboard, that sort of thing. One of a guy about your age, sir, somewhere hot. Her dad, I guess.’

  ‘Not one of anyone looking like they might be her mum?’

  ‘Er, just a second… no, sir, not that I can see.

  ‘And nothing out of the ordinary?’

  ‘No, sir. All very young girl, studenty, if you get what I mean. Nothing to indicate she was going to do a runner anyway.’

  ‘OK, you can fill me in back at the station. And Susie? You two getting on alright?’

  ‘I sat down and had a chat with her for bit when we arrived. Seems a nice kid. Loves her mum, who lives on her own up the coast. Concerned about her friend. I don’t think she’s hiding anything.’

  ‘Well done, Constable.’

  ‘Oh and sir. I did get her to call Sarah’s mobile again. It went straight through to the mail box. I told her to say to call her, say it was urgent but not why. Also, that she didn’t mention us at this point. Hope that was right?’

  ‘Yes, perfect. Thanks, Shirley.’

  Kirby liked WPC Shirley Barker. She was good with people. They seemed to trust her and she knew how to ask the right questions. She also knew how to use her policing brain. Not a collection of attributes one always found in the average copper. He looked up. John Cooper was staring out of his sixth-floor window, no doubt wondering where his daughter was. Kirby wondered where she was too. He was happy that Cooper was genuine. But Sarah’s mother, Marianne, on the other hand was a loose end and he didn’t like loose ends. And despite what Cooper said, what girl wouldn’t be interested in her mother? Or, for that matter, what mother wouldn’t be interested in her daughter?

  four

  Back at the station, Kirby grabbed a coffee and headed for his desk in the corner of the open-plan office. At one time he’d had an actual office with blinds at the windows, just as in all the best police dramas. ‘In my office now, Constable!’ Draw the blinds and put the wind up junior officers. Ah, the good old days. Now he had to book a room and schedule a meeting if he wanted a “little chat”. That gave them far too much warning.

  A head popped over a screen. ‘Guv?’

  ‘Yes, Sergeant.’

  ‘The chief wants to see you.’

  ‘Wonderful. Any news from the two lads yet?’

  ‘Which ones, guv?’

  ‘The ones who were at the scene where the girl was reported missing.’

  ‘Ah, no one’s seen nothing, guv.’

  ‘Anything.’

  ‘Sorry?

  ‘No one’s seen…’ He shook his head. ‘Never mind. Listen, I want you at that bus stop near where the shoes were found, between four and six, when most people’ll be returning from work. Show them the picture. Someone must have seen something.’

  Sergeant Jones huffed. ‘Isn’t it a bit soon for all this, guv? She’s probably just gone off with a boyfriend for the day.’

  Kirby thought of the pair of pink shoes at the side of the road as if waiting patiently for Sarah to return. ‘No, Sergeant. It’s a young girl gone missing. If she turns up all rosy-cheeked, coy and smiling, then great. Until then, we keep looking, if that’s alright with you?’

  ‘Sir.’

  Kirby picked up his mug and headed off towards the chief’s office. He still had one, of course. All those new touchy-feely ideas of “all in it together” and “we’re all just one big team” only went so far.

  In the corridor Constable Barker was coming the other way. ‘Ah, sir, I’ve got Susie downstairs for her statement. Do you want me to wait for you?’

  ‘Yes please. I’ve got to see the chief and then perhaps we can touch base before we talk to her. In the meantime, have a go at googling, or whatever, for Sarah’s mother Marianne. Apparently she ran off with a magician called Mephisto.’

  ‘Mephisto?’

  ‘Yes, I know. Just see what you can find.’

  ‘Sir.’

  Kirby knocked on the door.

  ‘Enter.’

  Kirby smiled to himself. Who said “enter”? He bit back the temptation to reply ‘Yes, milord’. Instead he opened the door and asked the expected question to which they both already knew the answer. ‘You wanted to see me, sir?’
/>   ‘Yes, Jonah. Please sit.’

  Kirby resisted tugging at his forelock as he perched on the hard, wooden chair while the chief steepled his fingers and leant back in his one-off, special, ergonomic, leather one. Apparently, it was essential for his back. He never explained what it was about his back that made it essential, you were just expected to nod in sympathy whenever he mentioned it, as if it was an old war wound, which it wasn’t. The chief took a deep breath as he looked at Kirby over the desk. He pursed his lips while appearing to be in deep thought. He was playing the waiting game. People hated silence, so they tended to fill it. However, Kirby was also good at this game. He smiled and waited back.

  Eventually the chief frowned. ‘So this girl?’

  ‘Sarah.’

  The chief gave a slow, solemn nod. ‘Sarah.’

  ‘Yes, sir. She’s missing.’

  Another nod. ‘Missing.’

  ‘Yes, sir. Missing.’

  ‘Missing...’ the chief said, drawing out the word.

  The chief wanted Kirby to volunteer the whole story because that way you were often given answers to questions you hadn’t asked. However, Kirby was good at that game as well and for now, because he had no real answers, he didn’t want to give the chief too much to work on.

  ‘Missing,’ the chief repeated yet again.

  Kirby waited some more. It was beginning to feel like a Monty Python sketch.

  The chief shifted in his seat, then leant forward, drummed his fingers on the desk and caved in. ‘Surely it’s a bit soon to be mounting a full-scale missing person’s investigation? How long has she been missing?’

  Kirby looked at his watch. ‘About four hours. And it’s hardly full-scale. Just me and Constable Barker poking around.’

  ‘Yes, well, still a bit soon. She might have gone off with a boyfriend or something.’

  ‘Without her shoes?’

  ‘Shoes?’

  This time Kirby felt he’d had enough of playing the game. ‘Yes, sir. They were left at the side of the road.’

  ‘Perhaps she didn’t like them? Or they were deficient in some way?’

  ‘They were new, pink and although I’m no real judge of these things, rather pretty. What’s more, they weren’t discarded, they were lined up neatly and the laces were tied. Which forgive me, sir, you have to admit is a bit odd.’

  At the word “odd” the chief sat up. He’d seen enough of Kirby’s cases to know that things that started as “odd” had a habit of becoming “weird”, and weird led to places that he hated to have to explain to the super. However, Kirby knew the chief had also been a decent detective in his day. The chief’s nose twitched. ‘Very well. Yes, a missing girl, can’t be too careful.’

  ‘No, sir, exactly.’

  Kirby threw out his now cold coffee and refilled his mug. He found Constable Barker sitting, bent over, nose close to a screen. He perched on the edge of her desk. ‘Bad posture, Constable. It’ll catch up with you when you’re older. Just look at the chief – has to have special chair. We wouldn’t want that now, would we?’

  Shirley laughed. ‘No, sir, quite.’

  ‘Where’s Susie?’

  ‘Er still in the waiting room, sir. She’s been there a while. Shall I go and get her?’

  ‘In a minute. I’m sure I’ve read somewhere that it does young people good to be bored once in a while.’

  ‘I think that’s to do with little kids and playing, sir.’

  ‘Oh well, found anything?’

  ‘Just started really. Yes, there was a magician called Mephisto and he had an assistant called Marianne. Did quite well in the States apparently, a few TV shows an’ all that. Then about ten years ago, they just seem to have disappeared. Nothing, zilch.’ She swivelled the screen around. ‘There are a couple of publicity shots.’

  In the first was a man of around, what, forty? Balding, with what was no doubt supposed to be an all-knowing and mysterious smile. To Kirby, he just looked smug. In the next was a woman, a striking woman who could have been anything between twenty-five and forty. She had long wavy red hair and the darkest eyes he’d ever seen. The resemblance to Sarah’s photo was obvious, but this face was harder, sharper. The face of someone who was very sure of themselves.

  ‘Wouldn’t fancy tangling with that one,’ Shirley said.

  Kirby studied the face again. ‘No, I think I agree with you there, Constable. ‘Hmm…’ The eyes peering out of the picture seemed to be studying him.

  ‘Shall we go and see Susie?’

  ‘Yes, why not?’

  Five

  Susie sat in the waiting room of the police station. Constable Barker, Shirley, had said she wouldn’t be long, but looking at her watch, that was nearly an hour ago. She had thought she quite liked Shirley, but now she was less sure. She puffed out her cheeks. She was bored, bored, bored. She should have brought her iPad or a text book. She had so much catching up to do on her summer dissertation. She hadn’t thought she’d be waiting so, so long. There was a large notice, outlined in red, telling people to turn off mobile phones. Susie had complied immediately. She’d thought about turning it on again to see if anyone was missing her, or trying to message her – Sarah even? But she imagined if she did turn it on they’d somehow know and a policeman would come and order her to, ‘Turn it off, or else!’ So now that possible source of entertainment was a dead weight in her pocket, reminding her even more of how bored she was.

  A door opened and she looked across, hopeful that the waiting might be over. Nope, just another policeman. He didn’t even look her way as he strode out of the station, through the door beyond which her life would start up again. She went back to being bored. She had already given names and characters to the faces she could see in the much over-painted and peeling walls. She’d had them having conversations. Two had embarked on a romance, split up, got back together again and were now thinking of getting engaged, to be married next summer. Although they were already living together, of course, much to the disapproval of her parents. Susie decided she had better stop there, while some of her sanity remained intact.

  She must have read every crime-prevention poster five times. She was now an expert. She knew how not to invite pickpockets; how to make her flat less attractive to burglars and where not to walk alone at night. She wished she was doing crime prevention at uni instead of archaeology, then she’d be bound to get a first.

  ‘Susan?’

  Susie looked up from studying her fingernails. Only her mum called her Susan.

  Shirley Barker was smiling at her. ‘Sorry to keep you waiting. If you’d like to come this way,’ she said, lifting the hinged section. Susie followed the constable down a bright corridor and into an interview room.

  ‘Thanks for this, Susan. Have a seat.’

  Susie sat. ‘Susie, please.’

  Susie sat on the wooden chair at one side of a scratched and stained plastic table. Shirley Barker sat opposite and smiled. ‘Susie then. Thanks again for waiting. The inspector got held up.’ she said putting two tapes in a machine. ‘Don’t worry about this, it’s just standard procedure.’

  At that point, the door opened and Inspector Kirby entered the room. He smiled at Susie, pulled out a chair and sat at an angle to the table.

  ‘Inspector Kirby has now entered the room,’ Constable Barker said. ‘Now just a few formalities. You are Susan Summer, sorry Susie Summer, currently living at 52, Eslington Terrace, and you’re a student at Northumbria University?’

  ‘Yes, except I’m at Newcastle University, not Northumbria.’

  ‘Ah, yes, sorry.’ Constable Barker nodded and made a few notes. ‘Tell me, how do you know Sarah Cooper?’

  ‘We met in freshers week. We’re on the same course, archaeology, and have been the best of friends ever since. After the first year, we’ve been sharing a flat.’

  ‘And still friends,’ Constable Barker said, smiling.

  ‘Yes, I know. Doesn’t always go like that. But Sarah’s one of the nicest peopl
e you could wish to meet.’ Susie stopped as a tear ran down her cheek. Constable Barker produced a box of tissues from somewhere under the table and put them in front of Susie. She took one. ‘Sorry,’ she said, sniffing.

  ‘No need to be sorry. This must be very distressing for you.’

  Susie nodded and blew her nose.

  ‘So how did she seem to you in the weeks and days before today?’

  ‘She was fine, happy, the usual Sarah. A bit worried about having to tap her dad for more money, but that’s all part of being a student. Happens every term, and her dad doesn’t seem to mind that much.’

  Constable Barker nodded. ‘Boyfriend?’

  ‘She did have,’ Susie said. ‘Roger. It finished about three months back.

  ‘Roger?’

  ‘Roger Walton. He’s doing engineering.’ Susie glanced across at the inspector who was listening but not saying anything. ‘It wasn’t a problem or anything. She wasn’t mooning around the flat in her pyjamas all the time, eating ice cream, or anything like that. As she put it, the relationship had just run out of steam, kind of petered out really. She and Roger are still friends.’

  ‘And Roger saw it like that?’

  ‘Roger? Yes, of course.’ Susie leaned on the table. ‘You can’t think Roger would have anything to do with Sarah going missing? They both just moved on, it was nothing dramatic.’

  Constable Barker smiled. ‘I’m sure you’re right, but we have to ask. We need to cover all angles.’

  Susie nodded. The constable asked her what she knew of Sarah’s home life, did she have another boyfriend, any admirers or anyone hassling her on social media? Had anyone been hanging around outside the flat who they didn’t know? Had she mentioned anyone, anything? After an hour, Shirley Barker rose from her seat. ‘Well I think that’s about everything.’ She looked across at the inspector. ‘Boss?’

  Inspector Kirby leant forward. ‘Do you know anything of Sarah’s mother?’

 

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