Call to Arms

by Rachel Amphlett

  Kay peered out of the window at the dark clouds hovering ominously above the city before the train slid under the roof of the station and ground to a halt.

  ‘Hopefully we won’t drown before we arrive.’

  Forty-Three

  The skyscraper that held the financial institution where Natalie Stockton had once worked was a glass-covered edifice that contrasted starkly with the Regency buildings on the opposite side of the street.

  Kay led the way past an automatic sliding door and into an expansive reception area that resembled a five-star hotel rather than a private business.

  A crimson-coloured carpet lined the floor and deadened their footsteps as they approached the reception desk, one that she noted with surprise had been carved from a single tree before its surface had then been varnished to a high sheen.

  The same effect could be said of the woman sitting behind it.

  She wore a headset over a coiffed hair style, her bright pink nail lacquer flashing under the overhead spotlights as she directed a call. As Kay and Carys approached, she continued talking on the phone, gestured to a leather-bound visitor’s book, and indicated that they should both sign in.

  That done, the woman finished the call and smiled.

  ‘Can I ask who you’re here to see?’

  ‘Marion Wisehart,’ said Carys.

  ‘Take a seat, please. I’ll let her know you’re here.’

  ‘Remind me who this Marion Wisehart is?’ said Kay as they sat.

  ‘HR Manager – or “People Management Specialist” as she informed me late yesterday,’ said Carys, barely concealing her amusement at the title. ‘Sounded okay on the phone. Guarded, yes, but—’

  ‘Understandable, given she has to protect the reputation of the business.’

  ‘Exactly.’

  Kay turned her attention to a door that opened next to the receptionist, and a woman of about fifty appeared, her light brown hair cut into a fashionable style that left it long at the front and short at the back.

  Large earrings sparkled and accentuated her long neck, and she wore a crisp charcoal-coloured suit.

  Kay and Carys rose as she neared and introduced themselves to Marion Wisehart.

  ‘Detective Hunter? I understand from my conversation with your colleague here that this couldn’t be dealt with via a phone call?’

  ‘Probably best if we chat face to face.’

  ‘All right. Come on through.’

  She turned and led the way across the reception area, swiped her security card over the door lock, and then paused to usher them into an open plan office that hummed with proficiency.

  Rows of desks lined the floor; a person sat at each with a headset on and conversing in muted tones while computer screens flickered before their eyes.

  The whole effect was one of a busy hive.

  Wisehart ignored the throng of employees, and turned right before opening a door and flicking on a light switch.

  Kay stepped into what resembled a square box, a small table and chairs in the centre and frosted glass separating it from the central workspace. Whiteboard markers had been used to scribble on the glass, and she noticed Wisehart’s top lip curl when she closed the door.

  ‘Really,’ she said with an exasperated sigh, ‘they know they’re supposed to wipe down the walls when they’re finished.’

  ‘What’s this room used for?’ said Carys.

  ‘We encourage our employees to brainstorm any issues before raising them with management,’ said Wisehart, taking a bright coloured cloth from a cabinet at the back of the room and attacking the scrawl until it faded. ‘We tested it for three months and found a twenty per cent decrease in our managers’ time being used to sort out minor problems. They’ve got more important things to do, believe me.’

  Kay gave a slight shake of her head as she caught Carys’s eyes glazing over, and they each took a seat at the table.

  ‘Right,’ said Wisehart, tossing the cloth back into the cabinet and joining them. ‘You mentioned on the phone that you wanted to talk about Natalie Ingram. You do understand I can only give you information that isn’t deemed confidential?’

  Kay smiled and leaned forward as Carys opened her notebook. ‘That’s fair enough, Ms Wisehart, but so you understand – I’m currently leading an investigation into a potential murder, and so I do expect you to give me your full cooperation.’

  ‘Oh. Oh, I see.’ The woman’s eyes widened for a moment before she recovered and lowered her voice. ‘How can I help?’

  ‘First of all, I have to insist that this conversation is treated with confidence,’ said Kay. ‘We’re conducting some preliminary enquiries at the present time, although if we need to, we will seek full disclosure for Natalie’s personnel file. Can you tell me when Natalie started working here?’

  ‘About thirteen years ago,’ said Wisehart. ‘She’d finished university and demonstrated a knack for being extremely hard working and diligent during a temporary position here after graduating. We find a lot of our best employees that way – to be honest, it saves a lot of hassle offering permanent contracts with probationary periods, only to discover that after the initial three months, staff slacken off, and you’re stuck with them. We offer six-month temporary contracts – gives us a better idea of whether people are right for us.’

  ‘And how long did Natalie work here?’

  ‘She left after two years.’ Wisehart lowered her gaze. ‘I felt terrible, really I did, when I heard that her brother had been killed six weeks after we terminated her contract.’

  Kay tensed. ‘We were under the impression that Natalie quit work after her brother died.’

  Wisehart choked out a bitter laugh. ‘Natalie Ingram didn’t quit, Detective Hunter. She was fired.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘You have to understand that this is off the record. I’ll deny it if I’m asked.’

  ‘We’ll seek the necessary authorities if we want to take this further with you.’

  Wisehart took a deep breath, and then rested her hands on the table. ‘Look, we had a few instances with Natalie when she’d turn up late – mid-morning, not just ten minutes here and there. Her work became sloppy, and there were a couple of occasions where she could’ve cost this firm millions of pounds because her mind wasn’t on the job. She pushed her luck – despite formal warnings, it happened again. We had to let her go.’

  ‘What was wrong with her? Was she sick or something?’

  ‘No. Sky-high on something. Cocaine, I suspect, although we could never prove anything. Natalie Ingram was rather too fond of burning the candle at both ends, Detective.’

  Forty-Four

  Kay and Carys had reached Maidstone by mid-afternoon, and after leaving the detective constable to type up her report from their meeting that morning, Kay signalled to Gavin and grabbed her bag.

  ‘Where are we going?’ he said.

  ‘To the Ingrams’ house. I want to ask them some questions about Natalie, and I want to do it face to face.’

  He followed her downstairs, signed out for a pool vehicle, and then led the way out to the car park.

  As he shifted gears and steered the vehicle through the busy town centre, Kay flipped through her notebook.

  ‘How did you get on talking to Zack Ellington?’

  ‘He confirmed they don’t offer grief counselling – never have. They specialise in addiction, including drugs and alcohol. Obviously, he wouldn’t confirm if Natalie Ingram had ever been a patient there, but he said he would help us further if we got the appropriate paperwork for him. Their basic programme is for six weeks, and they charged two thousand quid per week back then, which only included the counselling sessions. Accommodation and food were extra charges.’

  Kay brought him up to speed on what she had discovered at Natalie’s ex-employers that morning, and he gave a low whistle under his breath.

  ‘So, she was the buyer.’

  Kay bumped her fist against the door, and tried to sort her thoughts into
a coherent sequence.

  ‘There’s one thing that doesn’t make sense though – Carl Ashton said that that half a kilo was the least they’d smuggled in. Okay, we might have circumstantial evidence to suggest that Natalie was a user, but how on earth was she financing the purchase of that much cocaine?’

  She fell silent, an idea tugging at her memory, and tried to grasp at it. She held a finger to her lips to stop Gavin interrupting, and closed her eyes.

  The conversation she had had with Penny Boyd was going around in her mind, and then she realised with a start what was bothering her.

  ‘Gav? When Barnes and I first spoke with Michael and Bridget Ingram to let them know we were reopening the investigation into Jamie’s death, Michael said that Jamie had received a phone call late that night before he stormed out of the house to answer it. He left the house soon after that. But when we spoke with Penny Boyd, she said that she had phoned Jamie just after the Ingrams had had dinner.’

  Gavin remained silent for a moment, navigating across a roundabout, and then Kay saw realisation cross his features.

  ‘Jamie Ingram received two phone calls that night, not just the one his parents knew about. So, who was the second caller?’

  Kay closed her notebook. ‘Okay, we speak to the Ingrams to see what we can find out about Natalie’s work, and then we formally interview her.’

  ‘Do you think she was acting as an intermediary? Do you think something went wrong and it got Jamie killed by the people she was selling to?’

  ‘Maybe. I don’t know – it feels like we’re close, but we’re only hearing half the story.’

  Gavin slowed the car as he turned into the farmyard, and parked next to the front door.

  Kay emitted a surprised grunt as she saw the vehicle parked over by the barn. ‘Looks like we won’t have to go over to Yalding to speak with Natalie. That’s her car.’

  Michael Ingram answered the door with a glass of wine in his hand. His smile faded as he took in the two police detectives on his doorstep.

  ‘Kay? What’s going on?’

  ‘Can we come in? It’s quite urgent that I speak with you.’

  ‘Of course. We were just washing up.’

  They made their way through to the kitchen, where Bridget was up to her elbows in soap suds. Her face clouded as they entered the room, and she plucked a towel from the worktop and dried her hands.

  ‘Did you want a coffee or something?’ said Michael.

  Kay shook her head. ‘Is Natalie here?’

  ‘Not at the moment.’

  ‘Oh. Look, in her absence – can you tell me when she left her job in the City?’

  Michael scratched his chin. ‘About six months after Jamie died, I think. She came out of counselling for her grief, tried to get back into the swing of things, but said she found it too stressful, so she quit. She met Giles soon after that.’

  ‘Did you ever go to her office in the City?’

  ‘No. Why would we?’

  ‘Bridget, on the night Jamie died, what time did you say he received that phone call?’

  ‘It was late, and we were watching a film. The ones that come on after the nine o’clock news, so I supposed it was about half ten?’

  ‘And did he say who the caller was?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Can you excuse me for a moment?’

  Kay pushed her chair back and strode back out to the hallway, thumbing through her phone until she found the number she wanted, then dialled it and crossed her fingers.

  A whispered voice answered. ‘Hello?’

  ‘Penny Boyd? It’s DI Hunter.’

  ‘I’m at work at the moment. I can’t talk.’

  ‘It’s urgent. You said you phoned Jamie Ingram the night of his death. Can you recall the time?’

  ‘The time?’

  ‘Yes. The time you phoned him that night. What was it?’

  ‘Um, they’d finished dinner, I think. Jamie was really annoyed because I phoned when they were washing up, and he had to step out into the yard to speak with me.’

  ‘Thanks, Mrs Boyd.’

  ‘Is everything all right?’ Bridget’s eyes were wide as Kay walked back into the kitchen and tucked her phone into her bag before picking up her notebook.

  Gavin remained silent, having worked with her long enough to know when her thoughts were operating in overdrive.

  She flicked through the pages, and felt her heart sink as she reread her hurried scrawl.

  ‘Whose idea was it to throw away Jamie’s phone?’

  ‘We didn’t throw it away,’ said Bridget. ‘I told you – we gave it to one of those phone recycling charities. Something “ark”.’

  ‘Whose idea was it to do that?’

  ‘Natalie’s,’ said Michael. ‘What’s going on, Kay?’

  ‘Did you ever meet Giles before Jamie’s death?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Where is Natalie?’

  ‘She’s gone – we had a lovely surprise this morning; the girl that Jamie was seeing when he was in the army came to visit us. We thought it would be nice for her and Natalie to meet, so we phoned Nat to get her to come over and we organised lunch.’

  ‘We hadn’t met her before,’ said Bridget, wiping at her eyes. ‘Lovely girl. Has kids of her own now. She’d have made Jamie very happy.’

  ‘Oh, I don’t know,’ said Michael. ‘She was okay when she first got here, but she seemed to get nervous when Natalie turned up. Jamie was so gregarious and full of life – it’s hard to imagine him with her.’

  ‘Where are Amber and Natalie right now?’ said Kay.

  ‘Natalie asked Amber to drive her home,’ Michael said. ‘Natalie reckoned she’d had too much to drink, and so suggested she leave her car here, and that Amber drive her back to Yalding. I was a bit surprised, actually. I only saw Nat drink one glass of wine. What’s going on?’

  Kay didn’t answer him. Instead, she grabbed Gavin by the arm and propelled him towards the front door, pulling out her mobile phone and dialling Amber Fitzroy’s number.

  She cursed as it went to voicemail.

  ‘What’s wrong, guv?’

  ‘There’s no answer.’ Her skin crawled, and a sinking sensation twisted at her stomach. ‘Gav, phone for back-up. I want a uniformed patrol here as soon as possible. Nobody leaves until I say so. We’re going to the Stocktons’ house. Use the lights and siren, and have another patrol car meet us there.’

  Forty-Five

  ‘Shit, she used us.’

  ‘Guv?’

  Kay hung on to the strap above the passenger window of the car as Gavin swung the vehicle around the narrow country lanes, and gasped as they shot across a T-junction, a tractor braking at the last minute to avoid the collision.

  ‘Sorry, guv.’ He eased his foot off the accelerator, then glanced at Kay. ‘What’s going on?’

  ‘I think Amber Fitzroy knew about Natalie’s drug addiction, and possibly Giles’s connection to Jamie’s smuggling operation, and was psyching herself up to tell Michael and Bridget. I don’t think she expected Michael to insist on Natalie being at the farmhouse to meet her, and it didn’t give her time to speak to them alone. Michael had a fair point – Amber does come across as being quite reserved, and it may have been the case that she was reluctant to broach the subject as soon as she arrived there.’

  Kay pulled out her mobile phone and scrolled through the recent calls list until she found the number she needed.

  It went straight to voicemail.

  ‘Dammit. Giles Stockton isn’t answering.’

  ‘Do you think Natalie viewed Amber as a threat?’

  ‘I do, yes. She’s the only one in the family that knew about her, but didn’t know her name.’

  ‘But, why?’

  ‘Think about it. Natalie’s spent years cultivating a perfect persona in front of her family. She lied about losing her job in the City; she lied about her cocaine habit – even going as far as booking herself into a rehab clinic several miles away where sh
e wasn’t known by anyone. She’s obviously never told her parents what she and Jamie were up to. Then, Amber turns up out of the blue. The one person Natalie has had no control over – until now.’

  ‘So, she’s been using our cold case investigation to find out who she is, and where she is, in order to flush her out and keep her quiet, you mean?’

  ‘Exactly. It’s only a guess, but I think Amber must have let slip that she had spoken to the police, and that’s why she’s here in Kent. Natalie might have got paranoid about what was said when we interviewed her. You heard what Michael said. Amber clammed up when Natalie appeared—’

  Kay turned her attention to her phone as it began to ring.

  ‘Kay? It’s Carys. The patrol car is a couple of minutes behind you. The other two have arrived at the Ingrams’ farmhouse – Natalie and Amber haven’t returned there.’

  ‘Thanks. Keep me posted. We’re nearly in Yalding.’

  Gavin cursed under his breath as he steered the vehicle around a tight right-hand bend, straightening the car before taking a sharp left.

  Using the back roads to reach the Stocktons’ house was a more direct route than going through Maidstone, but Kay noticed the detective constable’s knuckles were white as he gripped the steering wheel.

  ‘We’re nearly there,’ she said. ‘The turning for Vicarage Lane is down here on the left.’

  She dug her toes into the foot well to steady herself as Gavin shifted down a gear and took the corner without slowing down.

  ‘Have you been taking driving lessons from Barnes?’

  ‘How did you guess?’

  Kay gritted her teeth.

  Less than a minute later, the vehicle slid to a standstill on the gravel outside the Stocktons’ house.

  Kay threw herself out of the car and raced across to the front door, hammering on its surface as Gavin joined her.

  ‘Dammit.’ She took a step back and peered up at the windows facing the driveway. ‘Gav – get yourself around the back of the house. See if there’s a way in – or if someone’s already left that way.’