‘You really don’t like him do you.’
‘Can you blame me? He ruined my life, and his laziness ruined Linda’s too.’
‘Do you think Hendricks could have had anything to do with it?’
‘Not really. He was a disgusting creep but it was the women he was after. You ask any of the women teachers who worked there back then. They couldn’t stand him.’
‘How did he manage to keep his job?’
‘Beats me. Maybe he had friends in high places, or he had some kind of hold over someone.’
‘So you don’t think he was trying to point the finger at you to take the heat off him.’
‘The heat was never on him, but no, I don’t think that was it. I’m sure he thought he was just doing his civic duty, fine upstanding citizen that he is. What’s sick is the obvious pleasure he got from watching what it did to me.’
Linda had said the exact same thing. The Clements-Clayton team were solid in their opinion of Hendricks. Evan found it ironic that the two people who had suffered most as a result of Hendricks’ statement, also agreed that he wasn’t responsible.
‘Okay, forgetting Hendricks, what do you think happened?’
‘I really don’t know. I don’t think anything happened to Daniel on campus. I think he walked out the gate like normal and Hendricks had his nose stuck in some stroke mag or something and didn’t see him go past. I don’t think he made it home. Something happened to him on the way and it had nothing to do with his father. A random attack by someone passing through most likely.’
‘That doesn’t give me a lot to go on, does it?’
Clements shook his head. ‘I’m afraid it doesn’t, but it’s only my opinion. I could be wrong.’ He shrugged as if to say it has been known to happen.
Evan was about to leave it at that when he remembered what Clements had first said.
‘You implied earlier you thought some people had something to hide. What did you mean?’
Clements considered him carefully. Evan got the feeling he was being assessed for his level of trustworthiness. He put on his best open and approachable face. It worked, he passed the test.
Clements leaned in conspiratorially again and dropped his voice to a whisper. He didn’t actually put his hand up to his mouth, but Evan was sure he wanted to. He looked around to see who might be listening in, hiding in the bushes, but there was no-one.
‘This didn’t come from me, but I think Faulkner was hiding something. Maybe he still is.’ He leaned back and held up his hands. ‘I’m not saying he had anything to do with Daniel’s disappearance, but I always felt he was hiding something; some guilty secret. In fact, I got the feeling long before any of this happened. That’s not just me talking out of spite, because of what he did to my life, either.’
‘I don’t suppose you’ve got any idea what it might be?’
‘No. It was just a feeling.’
‘Did you ever say anything to anyone?’
Clements looked at him like he really was an idiot.
‘Are you serious? Who would I talk to? Besides, who’s going to listen to a man accused of abducting a child? A de facto pervert.’
Evan thanked him for his time and left him to his plants and fish and seething resentment. No doubt his wife would bear the brunt of his anger and frustration when she returned, but she looked like she was more than able to take care of herself.
Chapter 12
EVAN CAME AWAY WITH something very different to what he expected when he went in. He’d been hoping Clements would have some ideas about what might have happened, but he’d gotten nothing new that he hadn’t heard before, just a different slant. One thing that he was picking up loud and clear was how much everyone involved hated each other. And then the unexpected revelation that Clements thought Faulkner was hiding something. He didn’t know what to make of that. Was there something that Clements had picked up on? Or was he just being vindictive, despite what he’d said?
Admittedly, Faulkner hadn’t wanted to talk to him at first, but the case hadn’t been his finest hour so why would he? What kind of a secret could he have that might have any bearing on the case? Besides, if Clements’ intuition was right, it pre-dated the disappearances anyway. Evan certainly didn’t think Faulkner could have committed the crime, but was he involved in some way beyond his police duties?
His thoughts were interrupted by his cell phone. It was Guillory.
‘That was quick’
He could feel Guillory smiling into the phone.
‘Well, we’ve got these new-fangled computer things here now, so I asked one of the grown-ups to show me how to use them—’
‘Grown-ups in the police department? Whatever next?’
‘Who knows, we might even offer you a job.’
‘Okay, okay. I’m assuming you found something.’
He heard Guillory tapping away two-finger style in the background.
‘Okay, here we go. Don’t jump to any conclusions, but there was a woman called Barbara Schneider who went missing about the same time Robbie Clayton disappeared. Reported missing by her husband, Max, and never heard of again. Right sort of age for Clayton to be fooling around with too.’
‘So what happened?’
‘Nothing happened. People go missing every day of the week. If it’s an adult and there’s nothing to suggest any foul play, then what do we care if some woman gets sick of her husband and runs off with some guy with a bigger johnson.’
‘Nobody made any connections?’
‘That’s just it, isn’t it? You’d be making connections that probably weren’t there. Fabricating them yourself.’
‘You know what I meant. Did anybody consider the possibility that these disappearances were connected?’
‘What, like Robbie Clayton ran off with Mrs Schneider and his little boy and they’re all playing happy families in California or wherever. And none of them ever showed up on the radar again.’
‘It’s possible. Was it even considered at the time?’
‘You’d have to ask Matt Faulkner. There’s nothing on the files to suggest it.’
‘Do you think he’d tell me?’
‘Depends if you ask nicely. That’s not something you’re very good at, is it?’
‘I don’t know what you mean. You’ve got to admit it’s hard to ask anything without it looking like I’m judging him with the benefit of hindsight.’
‘I can’t help you there. And before you ask, no, I’m not going to ask for you. You’re a big boy now. Besides, he’d know it came from you anyway.’
Evan wondered if there was anything else he could get out of Guillory.
‘Do you know if the husband still lives around here?’
‘No idea. Anything else? Do you want me to pick up your groceries for you as well? I mean, it’s not like I’ve got anything else to do.’
‘What about the address where he used to live?’
‘Yeah, I can give you that, seeing as it’s in the phone book. Just don’t go in heavy handed, okay.’
‘Like Ryder you mean.’
‘Do you want the address or not?’
Evan took down the address. Guillory promised to let him know if she found out anything else and ended the call. At least it felt like she was on his side. She was responsible for setting it all in motion after all. Evan felt that gave him some leeway in what he could ask her. Whether he’d ever get to the point of being able to sound her out about Faulkner was another matter.
Chapter 13
HE WAS BUILDING QUITE a list of people he wanted to talk to and none of them were going to be easy conversations. Max Schneider was likely to be the easiest. He was only going to be digging up painful memories with him. Hendricks and his next conversation with Faulkner were going to be a lot more difficult.
He’d also like to eliminate the Clayton-Schneider liaison line of enquiry; he didn’t want to have to take that back to Linda Clayton. It would completely destroy what she had left of her life. He didn’t need
any more of that kind of thing on his conscience. This new direction was supposed to give him a chance to do some good and help people.
Max Schneider lived in a small farmhouse a couple of miles out of town. At one time it must have owned all the land surrounding it but that had all been sold off long ago. There was an old pickup in the yard and the whole place had a run-down feel to it. Evan could understand any woman wanting to run off with another man to get away. Or she might just be buried under all the junk in the back yard.
A man in his late fifties or early sixties answered the door. He was short and wiry with a completely bald head that shone as if it had just been polished. He had the large, bulbous nose of a heavy drinker, and peered up at Evan from under some of the bushiest eyebrows Evan had ever seen. If this was Schneider he had clearly been a lot older than his wife who would only now be early forties if she was still alive. Did that make it any more likely that she ran off with a younger man? If only you could rely on all those preconceived ideas, life would be so easy.
‘Max Schneider?’
‘Yes, that’s me.’
He had a faint German accident. He hadn’t been born anywhere around here, that was for sure. It was only Evan’s good manners that stopped him stepping backwards as a strong smell of garlic on Schneider’s breath caught him full in the face. That would make anyone run away, he thought.
Schneider looked pleased to see him.
‘Come in, come in. This way please,’ he said, leading Evan down the narrow hallway to the kitchen, which had that peculiar smell of over-cooked cabbage that old people’s houses have. Evan was surprised at Schneider’s welcome. Linda hadn’t phoned him and told him to expect a visit, but the man was obviously expecting him.
‘There it is. Piece of Japanese crap,’ he said pointing to the washing machine. ‘I knew I should have bought German.’
He looked round at Evan, his eyes narrowing.
‘Where are your tools?’
Evan almost laughed out loud.
‘I’m sorry Mr Schneider, there’s been a misunderstanding. I’m not here to fix your washing machine.’
‘No? Then why are you here?’
‘I’d like to ask you a few questions.’
Schneider looked crestfallen although Evan couldn’t really see why. From the look and faintly sour smell of his clothes, he didn’t look like a man who did his laundry on a daily basis. Maybe the machine had been out of service for a month or two.
‘Are you sure you can’t fix this?’ he asked plaintively.
Evan ignored his plea.
‘I’m working for Linda Clayton, looking into the disappearance of her son and husband.’
Evan watched Schneider carefully for any signs of recognition but the name meant nothing to him, that much was clear. Either that or he was a lot better than Evan at concealing his emotions.
‘Linda Claxton? Never heard of her. Why would I be able to help you?’
Either Schneider hadn’t heard any of the rumors or he was being deliberately obtuse. His mood had taken a marked turn for the worse.
‘It’s Clayton, not Claxton, and they disappeared at the same time your wife did.’
Schneider looked at him as if he was crazy.
‘My wife? What wife? I’ve never been married in my life. What are you talking about, you stupid boy?’
The way that he peered up through his eyebrows was quite disconcerting. Evan thought there was a very real possibility that the cantankerous old man was just plain nuts. The other alternative was that he had blocked the tragedy from his mind.
‘Ten years ago, you reported your wife missing to the police.’
‘Pah! How could I do that when I never had a wife?’ he yelled, giving Evan another generous dose of second-hand garlic.
‘So you never reported anyone missing?’
Schneider’s eyes positively bulged as if someone was throttling him.
‘Did I say that? Did I? I said I never reported my wife missing. Don’t you listen to anything?’
Evan decided to try a different tack.
‘Have you ever reported anyone missing to the police?’
‘Ja, of course. My sister. Barbara. Who do you think? Are you here to find my sister?’
‘That’s right Mr Schneider. I’m here to investigate Barbara’s disappearance.’
There was every chance the old fool would think he’d only reported it last week. If Evan didn’t mention Linda Clayton’s name again he doubted Schneider would remember it.
‘Good. About time too.’
He nodded vigorously, happy that he was finally about to get some answers, even if he wasn’t going to get his washing machine fixed. If he was given the choice, Evan reckoned Schneider would opt to have his washing machine fixed.
‘Can you tell me what happened?’
‘It started to make this funny noise.’ He made a strange sound in his throat. ‘No, more like this.’ He made another noise that he was equally unhappy with. ‘No, that’s not it either—’
‘I meant what happened to your sister.’
‘She disappeared.’
He made another attempt at the noise. He was determined to get it right.
Evan waited but that seemed to be all Schneider had to say about his sister. He thought about calling Tom Jacobson—he had a lot of experience pulling teeth.
‘Do you have any ideas about what might have happened to her?’
Schneider’s eyes bulged again.
‘Why would I call you if I knew that? I don’t know what is wrong with you young people these days.’
Evan knew exactly what was wrong with this old person and was having serious doubts about the reliability of anything he might say. He decided to ask what should be a fairly straightforward question.
‘Do you have a photograph? Of Barbara,’ he added quickly, to avoid Schneider running off to fetch a photograph of his washing machine, or maybe the Führer, or whatever else was dear to his heart.
Schneider nodded and walked over and picked up a framed photograph sitting on the shelf. Evan took it and looked at a picture of a good-looking blond smiling back at him. The police report was obviously wrong—there was no way on earth this woman could have been married to the lunatic currently standing in front of him, looking up expectantly, as if Evan was about to pull Barbara out of his pocket, now that he had performed his side of the bargain and supplied a photograph.
‘She was so beautiful,’ Schneider said. ‘Such nice’—he cupped his hands and squeezed the air as if fondling a pair of breasts—‘too.’
Evan looked down at the photograph again but it was only a head and shoulders shot. Looking at the photograph had a profound effect on Schneider. It was as if he’d been drunk and now he was suddenly stone cold sober. He’d regained control of his faculties for the moment. Evan wondered how long it would last.
‘She knew it too. I had to beat the men off with a stick.’
He swiped the air with an imaginary switch making Evan wonder if it was only the men who got beaten.
‘But she wasn’t too picky. Our parents were very strict with her and when they died she just let loose. Out every night. So many different men. She could have settled down with any of them but she was having too much fun playing the field. And then she disappeared. Bitch.’
The last word was said so quietly Evan wasn’t sure he heard it properly.
Had he just called her a bitch?
‘Do you think she ran off with one of them?’
Schneider looked at him sadly and shook his head.
‘That’s what I want to believe, but it’s not true. I was a lot older than her but we still got on too well for her to run off like that and never make any kind of contact. I know I tried to keep her under control, but we never had a fight over it or anything like that.’
He sat back down at the kitchen table and rested his head in his hands. Evan looked down at the shining bald dome and wondered what it must be like to be bald. There were a number o
f strange sticky patches that looked like glue dotted around his head. Evan choked back a laugh as he realized Schneider normally had a toupée glued to his head. Presumably he didn’t wear it in the house so that he felt the benefit of it when he went out. Perhaps that was what he wanted to wash so desperately.
‘I didn’t make a habit of rummaging through her underwear drawer or anything like that’—he looked up sharply to make sure that Evan wasn’t smirking—‘but it didn’t look to me like any of her clothes were missing.’
The comment made Evan think of his own situation. When Sarah had disappeared, he’d done the same thing, of course. Anyone would. And he’d realized that he couldn’t say for sure if any of her clothes were missing or not. The discovery had shocked and dismayed him. What else had he been oblivious to? Had the reason for her disappearance been under his nose the whole time? He didn’t know if it made him stupid or insensitive. Probably both.
‘Are you listening to me?’ Schneider barked, jumping out of his seat again and snapping Evan out of it.
‘Yes, I’m listening,’ Evan said curtly. He was getting fed up with Schneider’s rudeness. ‘So you think something must have happened to her.’
‘It’s got to be one or the other. Either she hated my guts and I never knew it, or she’s dead.’
After only ten minutes in his company, the first option seemed the odds-on favorite, but it was the second one that made Evan stop and think. The word hung in the air. He realized it was the first time in the whole case that anyone had come out and said it. Up until then everyone had simply disappeared. Now it was out in the open, it brought it home to him that there was very little chance of a happy ending. The best he could hope to provide was the relief that comes from finally knowing.
‘It’s not too difficult to imagine, is it?’ Schneider said. ‘Some married man gets her in the family way . . .’
He stretched out his hands and gripped an imaginary pair of hips, pulled them towards him and thrust his pelvis back and forward, grunting with an obscene leer on his face.
It was all Evan could do to keep a straight face. The guy should be in an asylum.
The Evan Buckley Thrillers: Books 1 - 4 (Evan Buckley Thrillers Boxsets) Page 8