‘I’ve told you I don’t think they’re the same person,’ he challenged her. ‘GS is obsessed with sex, the crayon writer is obsessed with money.’
‘Oh, come on, you can’t just dismiss the possibility there might be a link between them,’ Maggie exclaimed.
Umpire raised an eyebrow. ‘Remember who you’re talking to, Neville. I don’t think I need to remind you what happened last time you overstepped the mark.’
‘If you’re not prepared to listen to me, why did you want me on the case?’ she snapped, her frustration getting the better of her.
‘Because you were right all along about telling Megan Fowler’s parents.’
For a second she thought she’d misheard him.
‘Excuse me?’
‘You were right. I should’ve trusted her parents with the truth and let them see her body. I made a mistake.’
Maggie slumped backwards on the sofa alongside him. She turned her head to look at him.
‘Why now? Why have you suddenly changed your mind?’
His gaze didn’t waver from hers.
‘The Fowlers were not happy you were removed as their FLO. They wrote to me a month ago, after the trial, and said you didn’t deserve to be punished for putting their feelings first. I thought about it and decided they had a point, so I asked DI Gant to lift your suspension. What their letter made me realize is that you have an almost unique empathy for victims and their families. That’s why I asked you back. I suppose you could say I need you as my conscience.’
She was stunned and it took her a moment to recover her voice.
‘Well, good,’ she said, sounding haughtier than she intended.
Then, just when she thought he couldn’t shock her any further, Umpire smiled at her. Not his usual, pinched, half-smile, but a wide, beaming grin that lifted the corners of his mouth and crinkled the skin around his eyes. It transformed his face and the force of it made her insides capsize. Thrown, Maggie leaned forward to grab her wine glass and knocked back another large mouthful.
‘I’m glad we’ve sorted that out then,’ he said, his voice laced with amusement.
‘Hardly,’ she spluttered. ‘What about the complaint you made against me? That will still be on my record.’
‘I can’t do anything about that now. You did disobey a direct order, don’t forget.’
‘You know what,’ said Maggie, emboldened by the effect of the alcohol hitting her empty stomach, ‘I think the bollocking you gave me was worse than being suspended. It was brutal.’
Umpire’s blue eyes glittered as he took another swig of beer. ‘I shouldn’t have shouted at you like that, but I was so bloody angry. Probably the angriest I’ve ever been on the job. I felt completely let down.’
‘But you understand now why I told Mrs Fowler?’
‘Yes, but my reaction wasn’t even about that really. I was angry because I thought so highly of you and what you did felt like a slap in the face.’
‘You thought highly of me?’
He smiled again, another stomach-flipper. Maggie hastily necked another mouthful of wine.
‘I still do. You’re the best FLO I’ve ever had on a case, Maggie. The way you are with people is a gift. You make them feel comforted and supported during the worst time of their lives but you never lose sight of the job you’re there to do for our side, because you’re a great detective too.’ He hesitated. ‘I like . . . I like working with you, Maggie.’
There was something in his voice that rattled her. She tried to appear calmer than she felt.
‘I’m sorry I disobeyed your order, sir. I stand by my reasons for doing so, but I guess, talking about it now, I finally understand how upset you were.’
‘Let’s put it behind us.’
Umpire proffered his beer bottle and Maggie clinked her wine glass against it. As she did, her eyes strayed to his left hand. His ring finger was bare, confirming what Belmar had said about him splitting from his wife. Umpire followed her gaze and shrugged.
‘It’s been four months now, but it was on the cards for a while. Kim, my wife, is a city girl and she didn’t want me to leave the Met or for us to leave London. She’s never settled into the sticks, as she calls it. She and the kids are back in Finchley now.’
‘It’s okay, you don’t have to tell me,’ said Maggie, embarrassed to be discussing something so personal with him.
‘It’s fine. I think most people are aware of it now. You know how they talk.’
Oh God, she thought. Did that mean he knew what people had been saying about them? She tried to drag the conversation back onto safer ground.
‘So, I’ll speak to the Kinnocks about the interview with the Echo. I agree, I think it’s in their best interests.’
Umpire said nothing. He just sat there and watched her. Maggie’s face grew hot, but she ploughed on.
‘And there must be someone who knows who GS is. Maybe I’ll ask Lesley again.’
‘See, this is what I mean about you, Maggie. You’re a great family liaison officer but you love investigating too. You really should be a detective sergeant by now.’
‘If I do that, sir, I’ll have to quit being an FLO. DI Gant says it’s impossible to do both with a DS’s workload.’
‘So give it up. You’ve specialized for a few years, try something else.’
The idea horrified her. ‘I can’t imagine not doing this. It’s really important to me.’
‘But you’re denying yourself the chance of promotion. Look, if you were a DS, I’d offer you a position on my team in a heartbeat.’
Maggie shook her head. ‘I’m not ready.’
There was a long pause as they stared at each other.
Umpire took a slug of drink first.
46
Friday
The sensation of her cheek being jabbed by a fingertip dragged Maggie from the depths of a sound sleep. She lashed out in surprise and almost sent her nephew Scotty flying across the room.
‘Auntie Maggie!’ he yelped. ‘It’s me!’
She sat bolt upright on the sofa and the cushion she’d been using as a pillow tumbled onto the floor. Scotty picked it up and handed it back, his little face a picture of hurt.
‘I’m sorry, Scotty, but you made me jump poking me like that. I was fast asleep.’
‘I know – you were snoring.’
‘Me, snore? Never!’
Maggie reached forward and pulled him onto her makeshift bed. Scotty squealed with mock indignation as she rained kisses on his cheek.
‘Get off me! I’m not a baby!’
After a few seconds, she let him ago. He scrambled off the sofa and stood near the door, beyond arm’s reach. He was still in his pyjamas – navy blue with footballs dotted all over them – and his thick brown hair stuck up at odd angles from where he’d rolled about and fidgeted in his sleep. It was a family joke that Scotty couldn’t stay still even when he wasn’t awake and Lou said she’d never got a moment’s rest when she was pregnant with him.
‘What time is it?’ asked Maggie.
‘Breakfast time. Do you want anything to eat?’
‘Not yet, but a cup of tea would be nice.’
He pretended to write down her order on a notepad like a waiter then, with a grin, dashed from the room.
Maggie fell back on the cushions with a groan. She should’ve stayed at home last night, gone to sleep in her own bed, but after Umpire left she was too jittery to eat anything so instead she went straight round to Lou’s with Rob’s money. After putting the kids to bed, her sister poured them both a glass of wine, cracked open a tube of sour cream Pringles and insisted she went over every detail of what Umpire had said.
‘At least he’s apologized for being a cock,’ said Lou after she’d finished.
‘Yeah, it’s nice to be vindicated,’ said Maggie, taking a sip of wine.
‘So, do you fancy him?’
‘Lou!’
‘Don’t give me that look. I’m not asking if you want to marry him, just if you want t
o have sex with him,’ she said, laughing.
Maggie squirmed. ‘I don’t think about him like that. He’s married.’
‘I thought you just said him and his wife are separated?’
‘Well, yes, but that’s still technically married.’
Lou rolled her eyes at her sister. ‘Why are you always so weird about fancying someone who’s in a relationship? There’s no law against looking.’
Maggie knocked back the rest of her wine. ‘It just feels wrong, that’s all. If someone’s taken, you shouldn’t think about them like that.’
‘But you don’t think about single ones either!’
‘I do,’ Maggie protested. ‘You’re forgetting I dated that firefighter Craig last year.’
‘For three weeks, and that was the first relationship – if you can even call it that – you’d had in five years. I think Jude’s probably kissed more girls than you have blokes and he’s only ten.’ Lou laughed. ‘I don’t know why you won’t give the blokes who ask you out a chance. You’re twenty-eight now and if you carry on like this you’ll be single forever.’
Maggie had changed the conversation at that point, fearing Lou might bring up Jerome. Instead she distracted her sister by suggesting they open another bottle of wine and resigning herself to a night crashed out on her sofa. Now, waking up with a sore head and backache, she wished she hadn’t. She checked the time and saw it was 7.40 a.m. Shit, she needed to get going. Umpire expected her back at Angel’s Reach by 8.30 a.m.
There was a rap on the living-room door and Jude walked in. He was already dressed for school in grey trousers and a bottle-green jumper over a white polo shirt, and was clutching an exercise book. It was always to her immense relief that he barely resembled his dad, as she couldn’t have coped with a constant living, breathing reminder of Jerome. Jude’s features instead reflected Lou’s hazel eyes, her aquiline nose and wide, open face, similar to Maggie’s. The only nod to Jerome was his darker skin and tight, unruly curls.
‘Hiya, Auntie Mags. Mum said can you check my homework, then Mae’s nappy will need changing.’
Maggie smiled to hide her irritation at Lou dishing out orders again.
‘Of course. But if it’s long division, you’re stuffed. I was rubbish at maths at school.’
‘It’s French,’ he said, handing her the book. ‘I had to put some English words into French. Can you see if I’ve done it right?’
She didn’t want to admit her knowledge of French was probably on a par with his but when she checked over the homework, the phrases were basic enough that she could see he’d pretty much got most of it right. A couple of mistakes she didn’t correct, reasoning he would never learn if she did all the work for him.
‘Looks good to me, sweetheart,’ she said, handing the book back. ‘Now scoot while I get dressed.’
Jude was almost at the door when he turned and looked at her shyly.
‘You will find her, won’t you, Auntie Mags? The girl whose mum and dad you’re helping.’
Lou must’ve said something to him about Rosie, because Maggie had pointedly made no mention of the case when she’d turned up the previous evening. Mindful of the boys being in earshot, she’d kept the conversation to schoolwork and football and when they were going to reschedule their visit to Pizza Hut.
She gave her nephew a reassuring smile. ‘I’m doing my best, Jude, we all are. Hopefully we’ll have some good news soon.’
‘Was it her dad?’
Maggie was shocked. ‘What makes you say that?’
‘A boy in my class is on Twitter and he said people are tweeting the dad did it. He showed us at lunchtime.’
Ten-year-olds on Twitter, Maggie despaired, and at school too. She rarely used social media herself: the accounts she’d set up were purely for when she needed to look up something relating to a case. She had no interest in sharing her private life with the world, especially when she knew just how far an electronic trail could spread. If people understood how vulnerable it made them posting pictures and personal information online, the indelible fingerprint it left, they’d never surf the Internet again.
‘Firstly, if your mum found out you were looking at Twitter, she wouldn’t be happy. There are some not very nice people on it, trust me.’
‘Mum’s on it.’
‘Right. Well, it’s for grown-ups, not kids, okay?’
Jude nodded.
‘As for her dad, we already know he was in Scotland when she went missing, so whoever’s saying otherwise has got it wrong.’
Jude seemed satisfied with her answer, even rushing over to her for a quick hug before running out of the room. Her smile fell, however, when he yelled from the hallway, ‘Don’t forget Mae’s nappy!’
She found Lou in the kitchen.
‘Oh good, you’re up,’ said Lou. ‘Can you take the boys to school?’
‘Sorry, I have to go,’ said Maggie, accepting the mug of tea Lou handed her.
‘Please, it’d be doing me a massive favour.’
‘I’m sorry, I’ve got to leave in a minute. Why can’t you take them?’
‘I want to take Mae to the doctor’s. Her cold’s gone to her chest.’
‘I’d love to help but I’m needed back in Haxton. Isn’t there anyone else you can ask?’
‘I could ask Toby’s mum but the boys would much rather go with you,’ said Lou as she mixed some white-coloured mush that might or might not have been porridge into a plastic Winnie the Pooh bowl for Mae.
‘I know they would, but not today. I’m sorry.’
‘Bloody hell, can’t you just do this one thing?’ Lou snapped. ‘It’s only five minutes out of your way.’
Crabby from her hangover and a poor night’s sleep, Maggie wasn’t in the mood to be nagged.
‘Stop being so bloody bossy. Get my money, change Mae’s nappy, take the boys to school,’ she mimicked.
Lou looked wounded. ‘I didn’t realize it was such a big deal to help your family.’
‘Now you’re being ridiculous. I do enough for you already so don’t you dare give me a hard time about this. Why not ask Rob to do it? He’d love to see them.’
Lou’s face darkened. ‘What, are you on his side now?’
‘Of course not. But the boys want to see him and he could help you out. I can’t run around after you all the time.’
Instead of retaliating, Lou turned her back and began folding the pile of clothes on the ironing board set up in the middle of the kitchen. Being ignored only made Maggie angrier.
‘What about me, Lou? When do I get a life? Between you and the kids and work, I have no time to myself.’
Lou laughed bitterly.
‘You chose that job, sis. You’re the one who wanted to be the bloody saviour of families, running around like a cross between Supercop and Supernanny. Don’t complain to me if it’s too much for you.’
Maggie exploded.
‘No, you’re too much. You and these sodding kids of yours. I’ll tell you what, you find some other mug to take them to Pizza Hut because it bloody well won’t be me.’
Maggie stormed out of the kitchen – and barged straight into Jude. One look at his face told her he’d heard every word. Immediately she felt awful and sank to her knees in front of him.
‘Oh, sweetheart, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that about taking you to Pizza Hut. I’m just a bit tired,’ she said, reaching out for him. ‘Please, come here.’
He backed away and the look he gave her was like a kick to the stomach.
‘Please, Jude. I didn’t mean it.’
‘Go away. I hate you!’
He ran upstairs and seconds later his bedroom door slammed shut. She thought about following him upstairs to talk him round but knew that if she didn’t leave now she’d never get to Haxton by 8.30. She’d have to make it up to him later. Again.
47
The atmosphere in the kitchen was thick with tension. For the first time since Tuesday, Lesley resented the police presence. S
he wanted to be left alone with Mack and to not feel like their every move was being scrutinized. The situation was starting to feel forced, like she was having to act her role, and it exhausted her to the point of making her bones ache. And she was worried about Mack. After his revelation about Suzy Breed blackmailing him, he had become withdrawn and last night refused to sleep in the same bed as her, saying he preferred to sleep downstairs. When she’d crept down to the kitchen in the early hours for a glass of water she’d found him sitting in the lounge in the dark, crying his eyes out.
He was sitting opposite her now, head bowed, reading a report in the Independent about Rosie’s disappearance. Belmar had tried to talk them out of reading the papers again and Lesley had laughed at the absurdity of his concern.
‘Our daughter’s been missing for three days and you think we’re worried about headlines?’ she told him. ‘I lie awake wondering if she’s dead in a ditch somewhere and you think what some bloody reporter writes will upset me?’
‘We also know what people are writing about us, or rather me, on the Internet,’ Mack chimed in, waggling his BlackBerry in the air.
‘You shouldn’t read that stuff,’ said Belmar. ‘It’s written by idiots who don’t know any better.’
‘People believe what they read though.’
‘We know you were in Scotland, Mack. End of story.’
Eventually Belmar relented and sent someone to get the papers, which they were now reading at the breakfast table. Lesley couldn’t face eating and left the toast Belmar had made to go cold while she sipped a cup of tea.
Rosie’s disappearance was still front-page news. Lesley had the Daily Mirror in front of her and on the front page was the blurred CCTV image from the garage with a plea to the public to help identify who was in the queue. DCI Umpire was quoted as saying none of them was a suspect at this stage – they just needed tracking down so they could be ruled out of the inquiry.
Anger shook her as she gazed down at the paper. That someone might hate her so much for winning that they’d abducted Rosie was incomprehensible. What kind of sick person did that? Why did money matter so much to some people? It made her want to give every penny away and live on handouts.
Gone Astray Page 25
