Alice Teale is Missing

by H. A. Linskey

‘About time,’ she said. ‘I want to speak to him and the PE teacher, who was the last one to see Alice leave. Then there’s the one who has flings with his pupils and the drama teacher she was smiling at in the photo. That’s just for starters.’

  ‘And we’ll be able to do that, which is the good news, but otherwise, that’s in short supply. Forensics have drawn a blank on the journal pages. Whoever is sending them knows what they’re doing. They haven’t left a trace on the pages, stamps or envelopes.’

  ‘That’s almost impressive,’ Beth said begrudgingly. ‘What about the fragments of headlamp down by the station?’

  ‘Inconclusive so far. It’s looking like more than one car may have smashed into that broken platform. It will take them a while to sift through the pieces. And the warrants on social media proved fruitless, too. If Alice Teale was communicating with someone in a clandestine manner, she wasn’t doing it that way.’

  ‘It feels like one step forward and two back at the moment.’

  ‘Do you want something to eat?’ he asked her, now that he had finished his own breakfast.

  ‘I’d love something, but there’s no one here.’ Beth hadn’t seen a waitress since she walked in.

  ‘That’s my fault,’ he said. ‘She’s out the back. Rita is a bit behind because of me. We had a long chat.’

  ‘What about?’

  ‘She’s been working here for years and knows everybody in Collemby.’

  ‘What did she tell you?’

  ‘We talked about Alice, then we got on to the subject of her parents.’

  ‘Did you find out why her dad is so angry all the time?’

  ‘No,’ he said, ‘but I did hear a very interesting story about Ronnie and Abigail when they were young.’

  ‘Tell me.’

  ‘I will,’ he said. ‘But if it’s true, I’m surprised her mum isn’t the angry one.’

  The waitress appeared then and they stopped discussing Alice’s parents for a moment while Rita took Beth’s order of a sausage sandwich and some tea. Rita left them to it and he started telling the story, and quite a story it was, too.

  Beth soon realized that Lucas’s casual chat to the waitress in the café had yielded as much information as her lengthy interrogation of Kirstie.

  ‘So, Alice Teale’s dad walked out on the family?’

  ‘When Alice’s brother was tiny,’ confirmed Lucas. ‘Before she was even born. They’d only been married a year when he ran off with another woman.’

  ‘He came back, though, eventually,’ observed Beth.

  ‘Within a few months. Begged her to take him back, by all accounts, and she relented. Alice was a product of that reunion.’

  ‘She took him back,’ mused Beth. ‘Bet she never regretted that decision.’

  ‘Life with him must have been an absolute barrel of laughs,’ said Lucas, ‘but being left on your own with a baby son when you’ve not been married long can’t have been much fun either.’

  ‘Particularly when your rat of a husband runs off with someone else. I wonder how she coped.’ Then Beth noticed the gleam in Lucas’s eye. ‘You know, don’t you?’

  ‘Maybe.’

  ‘She got herself a new man, didn’t she? Tell me she did.’

  ‘Kind of.’

  ‘Kind of? She either had a new bloke or she didn’t.’

  ‘It wasn’t that simple. You could say he was already taken.’

  ‘He had a wife?’

  ‘No,’ said Black. ‘He had a church.’

  ‘Bloody hell,’ said Beth. ‘Are you serious?’

  ‘I swear to God,’ he deadpanned.

  ‘No wonder Ronnie Teale is always angry, if his wife was cuddling up to the local vicar all those years ago. This case gets weirder by the hour – or are you going to tell me they’re always like this?’

  ‘No, not usually,’ he said. ‘I’ve been thinking about that. Alice Teale is not your typical runaway. Usually, if someone like that goes missing, they either turn up again pretty quickly or we find a body. When that happens, more often than not it’s someone she’s close to – her boyfriend or an ex. Being abducted and killed by a stranger is much rarer than people realize. In this case, we have no body, but no verified sightings of her either. The fact that she hasn’t used her phone or drawn out any money means that, at best, someone must be helping or sheltering her, for whatever reason, but I don’t think that’s likely. If she has come to harm, we have a number of people who might have reason to do it. Her ex had his life derailed by Alice, and her current boyfriend has been described as both jealous and controlling. Her dad is like a bomb waiting to explode, and even her grandad confirms he was way too hard on Alice, which might have something to do with her thinking about self-harming. Her brother is nowhere near as volatile as her father but is capable of outbursts of temper. I think they were close, but probably not too close, since we know that Sophie Mayhew probably spread that rumour about them. We have a barman who doesn’t like to hear the word “no” and teachers who don’t seem to understand boundaries, as well as a mystery man, not her boyfriend, who might have been shirtless in Alice Teale’s bedroom with her. Then there’s Kirstie, who has an aggressive streak, too, and there’s someone else I want to track down.’ And he told her about the homeless man who had been hanging around the cottages.

  ‘Why do I feel like we’re going round in circles?’ she asked him.

  ‘Patience,’ he said. ‘This will all eventually unravel, and we’ll see it for what it actually is.’

  ‘But do we have the time for that? Alice has already been gone a while.’

  ‘If I’m right,’ he said, ‘and I really hope I’m not, then it probably won’t matter.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Because I think Alice is already dead.’

  Beth thought about this for a moment and said, ‘Then let’s hope you’re wrong.’

  Once they had eaten their meal, they went straight to the church, which was a short walk from the café. They passed a row of shops that told their own story of Collemby’s demise. Around one in three had been closed for good, with only faded imprints of the lettering on old signs giving a clue to what they had sold when the town was more prosperous and able to support an array of stores. Now this particular street had only the minimart, where Alice Teale’s mother worked, two fast-food takeaways either side of a boarded-up pub and a small bakery-chain outlet.

  ‘I called into the incident room before I went to the café,’ said Black as they walked. ‘There was another batch of phone-ins waiting for me.’

  ‘Anything interesting?’

  ‘Not much, but maybe something. A woman reported seeing a red car parked up a short way from the school. She said it was a sporty-looking model with blacked-out windows.’

  ‘There were a number of cars parked along the road between the school and the town centre,’ said Beth. ‘What’s special about this one?’

  ‘It was parked across the lane that leads to the allotments, blocking it. She said it looked as if someone was waiting inside. It’s worth checking on, because it’s likely that Alice was picked up by someone not far from the school.’

  ‘Without anyone noticing?’

  ‘It only takes a moment to step into a car.’

  They reached the parish church then, its doors open and inviting. A wooden A-framed sign, like the ones pubs use to advertise theme nights or meals, was positioned outside the door, welcoming worshippers with the phrase, ‘Have you found Jesus?’

  ‘Don’t tell me he’s gone missing, too,’ muttered Black.

  ‘Do you think this is going to work?’ Beth asked uncertainly as they made to go in.

  ‘Why not?’ he asked her. ‘We can’t go to the school until Monday, anyway, so let’s see what we can turn up here in the meantime. The more we know about the Teale family, the better.’

  ‘We’re going to ask the current vicar if the former vicar stepped over the line with a female parishioner? I always thought the default position of
any church, whenever there’s a whiff of scandal, is to immediately cover it up. It’s been like that for hundreds of years.’

  ‘You know why?’ he asked. ‘Because their whole world depends on faith – in God, in the Bible and particularly in those who deliver its message. If people start to lose that, they know their church is doomed.’

  As they were about to walk into Collemby’s parish church a gaggle of laughter rose up from the opened window of the church hall that was right next to it. Beth presented herself to a woman who was passing and asked for the vicar. ‘I’ll get him for you if you wait here,’ she was told.

  There was more laughter and raised voices from the hall, so Black walked back towards it. The sound of excitable elderly female voices came from the open window.

  He turned back to Beth. ‘You’ve got this, right?’

  ‘What? Why? What are you going to do?’

  ‘I’m going to leave you to it,’ he said, ‘because that sounds like a whist drive.’

  ‘A what?’ But Black slipped through the doors of the church hall without further explanation, just as the woman returned and beckoned Beth forward.

  As she had predicted, Beth had a frustrating time with the vicar of the parish church, who had a politician’s ability to use a lot of words to say very little. She eventually emerged with not much more than the date he had taken over the parish from his predecessor and a lecture on not taking local gossip seriously. Other than a tight-lipped acknowledgement that Alex McGregor had formerly been the vicar there and that Abigail Teale was indeed a parishioner, Beth received very little of substance. Frustrated, she gave up and left the vicar to it.

  She was back outside when she heard the loud female voices again. They were so animated that, from the outside, they sounded like a gaggle of geese. Beth looked into the room, through the same window Black had chosen, and saw a dozen tables occupied by old ladies, who had come together in the church hall to play cards. They were chatting good-naturedly and in their midst was Lucas Black. Somehow, he had managed to talk himself on to a table and he was leaning in next to one of the old dears, perhaps offering her advice on which card to play next. What the hell was he doing?

  A minute later he looked up, noticed Beth and gave her a thumbs-up. She had no idea what he was playing at, so he splayed his fingers to indicate he needed another five minutes. She nodded and went to wait for him in the car. It was another half an hour before he joined her.

  ‘Sorry to keep you,’ he said.

  ‘This better be good.’

  ‘I suspect you’re wondering why I did that?’ He sounded almost cheerful, which was unlike him.

  ‘I’m wondering why you wasted all that time flirting with a bunch of old ladies.’

  ‘Old ladies love to be flirted with,’ he told her, ‘and they are the very best source of information. What did you get out of the vicar?’

  ‘Not much.’

  ‘Thought so,’ he said. ‘He was worried about the reputation of his church, whereas my old ladies love a good gossip. All I had to do was ask them about the previous vicar, and I couldn’t shut them up. When I threw in Abigail Teale’s name, they were hardly able to contain themselves.’

  ‘What did they tell you?’

  ‘That she was a one.’

  ‘A one what?’

  ‘It’s an expression. It means she wasn’t quite a complete hussy, but she did throw herself at a man.’

  ‘The vicar?’

  ‘Yep, and apparently it was the talk of the diocese. She came in for guidance when her husband left her and became very close to the vicar. When she went back to her husband, the vicar left the parish.’

  ‘What happened to him? The current vicar says he has no idea where he is now. I think he might be lying.’

  ‘How very un-Christian of you. He’s running a homeless shelter in Newcastle,’ said Black. ‘See how easy it is to get information when you help old ladies win at whist?’

  ‘He didn’t run away too far, then,’ she said. ‘Maybe we should look him up?’

  ‘Alice Teale might not even be aware of the man’s existence, nor he of hers,’ he said, ‘but he might be able to shed some light on her messed-up family, and that alone has got to be worth the drive.’

  26

  The manager of the homeless shelter listened to Beth’s explanation for their presence on his doorstep but seemed baffled as to how he could help them.

  ‘I’m sorry, but did you say it’s a girl that’s missing?’ Alex McGregor asked them. ‘I’m afraid our shelter only takes in vulnerable male adults. Many of them have struggled with drug or alcohol dependency and it wouldn’t be safe to house them alongside females. There is another shelter that takes in women, along with their children, if they have been the victim of domestic abuse. Young women without children are generally referred to a department of the local council, unless there are extenuating circumstances …’

  ‘We didn’t make it clear,’ Beth said, even though he had interrupted her before she was finished, ‘for which I apologize. We’re not here to speak to you in your capacity as manager of this shelter.’ His eyes narrowed in confusion. ‘The missing girl is from Collemby. You used to be the vicar there.’

  ‘Collemby? Right.’ She could tell he was still perplexed.

  ‘The girl’s name is Alice,’ said Lucas. ‘Alice Teale.’

  McGregor took this in without any outward sign of emotion. ‘I see.’ There was a long pause. ‘Would you like a cup of tea?’

  One of the shelter’s volunteers made the tea for them, delivering it in old, slightly chipped mugs to a rickety desk in a bare office. McGregor moved some papers to one side for the tray and they each took a mug and sat on mismatched chairs which looked like they’d been donated. The man was dressed in blue jeans and a grey sweater. He may have been in his mid-forties now, but there was something still quite youthful, almost boyish, about his appearance.

  When they were alone and the door was closed behind them, McGregor said, ‘Collemby? God, I haven’t been there for … It must be almost twenty years.’

  ‘You left just over eighteen years ago,’ confirmed Beth.

  ‘That sounds about right.’

  ‘You were the vicar there for around three years,’ said Lucas.

  ‘How do you know all this?’ McGregor asked. ‘Or perhaps I should be asking why do you know all this?’

  ‘It’s not like we had to read a file on you,’ said Black. ‘We just had a word with the vicar who took over from you. Your former parishioners filled in the gaps.’

  There was a long pause then, during which McGregor waited for Black to add to this, and when he did not, he said, ‘And what else did they tell you?’

  ‘The reason you left Collemby,’ said Black. ‘Abigail Teale. Alice Teale’s mother.’

  McGregor blinked as if he were shocked. ‘Abigail Teale was not the reason I left Collemby.’ Then he seemed to think again. ‘Not the main reason, at any rate.’

  ‘But you did have an affair with her?’

  ‘I’m sorry, but who has been saying that?’

  ‘It wasn’t an individual,’ said Black. ‘I think it is what is known as common knowledge, among the older parishioners, at least.’

  ‘What passed between Abigail and myself is private, even if it is the subject of mean-spirited gossip.’

  ‘You deny you were close to her,’ asked Beth, ‘even to the point where you were warned off by the dean?’

  Again, a long pause while he was either attempting to compose himself or trying to find the right words. ‘We were close, yes,’ he admitted. ‘She came to church regularly and sang in our choir. We became friendly.’

  ‘She came to you,’ said Black, ‘for guidance.’ Then he added the word: ‘Initially.’

  ‘Guidance?’

  ‘Because her marriage was failing,’ the detective reminded him. ‘Her husband ran off with another woman, leaving her alone with her baby boy.’

  ‘I don’t think I should be
speaking to you about confidential conversations I had with a parishioner, even if it was nearly twenty years ago.’

  ‘Eighteen,’ Black reminded him. ‘Her husband eventually returned to patch up their marriage. She went back to him and, a few months later, you left the parish and the Church.’

  ‘That is all factually correct,’ said McGregor, ‘but the inference is that I left because of her, and that simply isn’t true.’

  ‘Why else would you leave?’

  ‘You’re not going to say you lost your faith in God?’ asked Beth.

  He seemed to consider this for a while. ‘I lost my faith in the Church.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘I think that’s my business, don’t you?’ He sighed. ‘If you must know, I had a growing feeling that I wasn’t doing any good. All we did was talk. Abigail was a case in point. You are correct that I was reprimanded for becoming too close to her, but only because I cared for her and her situation; also, there was a clash of interest.’

  ‘How so?’

  ‘In my capacity as the vicar, I was duty bound to advise her to do her utmost to repair her marriage and take her husband back.’

  ‘And you wanted her for yourself?’ asked Black.

  He shook his head. ‘I wanted her to leave him,’ he said. ‘But for herself, not for me.’

  ‘Why?’ asked Beth.

  ‘Because Ronnie Teale was not a nice man and Abigail deserved better. That’s the problem with dogma. Marriage has to be preserved at all costs, even when it becomes clear it’s in everyone’s best interest to move on. When I was resistant to the idea that she should return to a bully, the dean intervened and threatened to haul me up in front of the bishop. By then I think I had already had enough. I still believe in God, just not the Church. Now, I do what I can’ – he gestured around him – ‘and I am no longer constrained.’

  He took a sip of his tea. ‘I assume she is still with him, then – Ronnie Teale? You said they had a daughter.’ He frowned. ‘And she has gone missing?’

  ‘They are still together and it’s their daughter, Alice, who has disappeared. We’re trying to find her,’ explained Beth.