by Carol Wyer
A muffled ringing interrupted them. Ian fumbled in his pocket and pulled out his phone, glancing at the screen with a frown. He excused himself and walked into the corridor.
Natalie carried on. ‘We really must establish a connection between Roxy and the Lang brothers. Until we do that, we can’t really move on.’
‘We know she died in the fire so we can rule out the idea she was murdered and the fire was set deliberately to incinerate her remains,’ said Murray.
‘No, I’m afraid we can’t. If somebody thought Roxy was dead, and set fire to the house to incinerate her remains, that’s essentially the same as murder and then covering it up. We can’t rule out the possibility this was murder and arson.’
‘By somebody, do you mean Gavin and Kirk?’ Lucy asked.
Natalie glanced at the photograph of the dead girl now attached to the large whiteboard at the front of the office. ‘It could be them or somebody else altogether. Whoever it was either had a house key or was let in. For now, we’ll refer to them as the perpetrator.’ She gazed past the board and out onto the landing. Ian had ended his call and was headed back towards the office.
He stood in the doorway and spoke. ‘That was Olga from Extravaganza. She’s a sort of receptionist cum hostess there. She wants to talk to me about Roxy. She’s got some information but she doesn’t want to come to the station or tell me over the phone. She only wants to talk to me. I’m meeting her at Starbucks in town in ten minutes.’
‘Looks like your charm worked overtime,’ said Murray.
‘Yeah, whatever,’ Ian replied. ‘I’ll call in the information, Natalie.’
‘Hope she really does have something for you and isn’t just after your body,’ Murray called as Ian withdrew.
Ian raised his middle finger.
The liaison officer, Tanya Granger, pulled into the car park and parked behind 114 Pine Way. She’d arrived shortly after lunch and spent Sunday afternoon with the Curtis family before leaving them early evening. She’d seen many reactions to death but the Curtis family had troubled her more than most. Cathy had broken down at the news of her daughter’s death, as had Roxy’s stepfather, but both Charlie and Seth had dashed off, abandoning their mother and stepfather to their pain. Oliver, the third son, stationed in barracks in Nottingham, would have found out about his sister from his senior officer or chaplain. She wondered what his reaction had been. He certainly hadn’t raced home to be with his family. Tanya had three children of her own and she hoped they’d all stand by her if ever she needed them.
She picked up her briefcase, full of information to help the family, from the passenger seat and steeled herself. This wasn’t going to be easy. It never was. Cathy hadn’t wanted to talk to her yesterday. It was understandable. The woman was grieving and in shock. Tanya could only offer tissues and tea. Today, she’d try to help them make the first steps towards accepting Roxy’s death.
She locked her car and stood in front of the gate to the flat. The cat that had been asleep on the doormat the day before bounded towards her, winding itself around her ankles and arching its back against her shin, pleased to see her. She bent and scratched its head. ‘You’re a friendly chap,’ she said. She eased herself back up. The animal accompanied her through the gate and into the yard with a motorbike perched on its stand. Her fifteen-year-old son wanted a motorbike. Over my dead body. She wasn’t letting him ride one. As far as she was concerned they were death traps. She’d visited families whose children had died in accidents on motorbikes. Her kids accused her of being too strict, with old-fashioned views, and to an extent she was, but she prided herself on her morals and the fact she’d brought her children up single-handedly, and done a bloody good job so far.
The feline shot up the steps ahead of her and squeezed through the cat flap. She caught a glimpse of its fluffy tail before the cover shut with a clatter. She rapped on the door and waited. Gooseflesh rose on her bare forearms as a cool breeze tickled them. She ought to have brought her jacket with her. The day wasn’t looking as promising as it had done when she’d got up.
Her meanderings were interrupted by the door opening. Charlie – the teenager with a neck tattoo and shaven head – peered out. She reintroduced herself. ‘Is it okay to come in and talk to your mum? She’s expecting me.’
He looked at her blankly. ‘She’s not here.’
‘Where is she?’
‘At her friend Megan’s.’
‘Okay. I’ll give her a call and see if she’s on her way.’
‘She’s not picking up. I tried ringing her ten minutes ago to ask when she was coming home.’
Tanya dialled Cathy’s number and got the answerphone. Charlie hadn’t moved from the doorway.
‘Have you got Megan’s number?’ she asked him.
‘No. I don’t know it.’
‘What’s her full name?’
‘Megan Dickson.’
‘Where does she live?’
‘Queens Road, Oldfields.’ Oldfields was a small town about ten miles from Armston.
‘Okay, I’ll get her number and ring your mum. Is Paul in?’
‘He went to work first thing.’
‘You alone then?’
‘No. Seth’s here.’
‘Could I come in for a minute? Just while I get Megan’s number and talk to your mum? We arranged to meet this morning. I’m surprised she’s not here.’
He nodded and she entered the flat. Seth, in light ripped jeans and a hooded sleeveless top, was watching television, a mug of tea in his hand and a piece of toast on a plate balanced on the arm of the chair.
‘Morning, Seth,’ she said.
‘Hi.’ He stood up immediately and slouched off into the kitchen, where he was joined by his brother; they drew into a huddle and talked in low whispers.
Tanya rang the station for Megan’s phone number, and as soon as she received it, she called her. Megan picked up immediately.
‘Hi, I’m PC Tanya Granger, a liaison officer from Samford HQ. I’m supposed to be meeting Cathy Curtis at her flat right now but I understand she’s with you.’
‘Cathy? She’s not here. I’m at work.’
‘She didn’t spend the night with you?’
‘No. I haven’t seen her in over a week. She rang me yesterday to tell me about what happened to Roxy, but she didn’t want to see me – or anyone, the poor love. She was in bits. I said I’d go over today after work.’
‘You didn’t see her at all yesterday evening?’
‘I was in all day and all night. She didn’t come by.’ Her voice sounded concerned.
‘Okay, thank you. If she turns up, would you please ring me back?’
‘Sure. Has something happened to her?’
‘I really don’t know but I wouldn’t worry too much yet.’
Tanya caught Charlie staring at her with furrowed eyebrows. She sat on the chair without asking and pulled out her file. Paul’s number was in it and she tried it, but it went to answerphone.
‘Have either of you any idea where else your mum might be?’
When neither boy could help her, she rang the person who needed to be told immediately: Natalie.
Ian had left the office to meet Olga at Starbucks.
‘What was that all about?’ Lucy asked Murray, who’d been teasing Ian.
‘Oh, nothing. I was merely boosting his flagging ego,’ Murray replied.
Natalie’s phone rang and she missed the conversation between the pair.
‘What? When did she leave? Oh, for fuck’s sake. Okay, leave it with me. What’s her number? Right. Got it.’ She spun back to face Murray and Lucy. ‘That was Tanya. Cathy’s missing. Paul got a text last night from Cathy saying she was staying overnight with her friend Megan, but she hasn’t come home yet. Paul’s gone to work and the boys can’t get hold of him or their mother. Tanya’s spoken to Megan, who hasn’t seen Cathy in over a week.’
Murray offered a suggestion. ‘Maybe she just needed time alone. After all, she found out he
r daughter had been killed.’
‘That sounds alarmingly like her daughter. Roxy was supposed to be on a sleepover, and now Cathy…’ Lucy cocked her head and left her unfinished sentence deliberately hanging.
‘Let’s hope it’s that and not something more serious. Ring CAT Aerials and find out where Paul is. I need to talk to him urgently. Lucy, get hold of Cathy’s phone provider and see if they can triangulate the location when it was last used.’ Natalie rang the number, and as she expected, it went immediately to answerphone, a sign it might be switched off. She tried the other number Tanya had just given her. A concerned voice answered immediately.
‘Megan Dickson?’
‘Yes.’
‘It’s DI Natalie Ward from Samford Police. I’m checking up on Cathy Curtis. We’re trying to locate her and I understand you are friends with her.’
‘She’s my best mate. We’ve known each other for years. I just spoke to another officer. She thought Cathy stayed with me last night, but she didn’t. Is she okay?’
‘We won’t know until we find her. Did she contact you yesterday?’
‘In the afternoon. She told me about Roxy. She was in such a dreadful state. I could hardly hear what she was saying and I wanted to go around straight away to see her but she told me not to. She was crying so hard it broke my heart. She said she couldn’t face anybody, not even me, and that she had Paul and the boys, and she needed some time to let what had happened sink in. I promised I’d visit her today. It’s a bloody tragedy. Poor Cathy.’ Her voice trailed away to be replaced by the sound of nose-blowing.
‘I don’t suppose you could come down to the station to talk to me a little later, could you?’
‘I’m at work at the moment. I don’t finish until three. I can come by after that.’
‘That would be very helpful. Thank you. I take it you knew Roxy?’
‘Of course. I’ve known them all since they were little kids. They used to live in Oldfields.’
‘Have you any idea where we might find Cathy?’
‘I wish I could help you but I haven’t a clue. I hope she’s all right and hasn’t done anything stupid. She was in a really bad way yesterday. You don’t think…?’ Her voice cracked.
‘We’ll let you know as soon as we find her.’
‘Thank you.’
‘Does she have any special places she might like to visit? Somewhere that reminds her of happier times, or maybe where she and Roxy used to go?’
‘I can’t think of anywhere.’
‘And when did you last talk to Roxy?’
‘It’s been a few months. Not seen her since Christmas.’
Natalie became aware of Lucy trying to attract her attention and thanked the woman. She’d extract more information from her later. For now, they had to locate Cathy.
A map of Armston-on-Trent was on Lucy’s computer screen. She used her forefinger to trace a rough triangle on it. ‘The phone company has pinpointed the last message sent at seven twenty last night. Her phone emitted a signal that was picked up by this mast here,’ she said, pointing at a red dot. She indicated a second and third dot. ‘It was also located here, and at twenty past seven it pinged and was picked up at this mast. That must have been when she sent the message to Paul. That means she was somewhere in this vicinity at around that time.’
Natalie screwed up her eyes and squinted at the area Lucy had invisibly traced out, then stabbing at the screen, she exclaimed, ‘There’s St Mary’s church and that street is Linnet Lane. I reckon she went to the Langs’ house.’
‘She said she didn’t know them.’
‘She lied. I’m sure of it.’
Natalie’s phone rang, interrupting them. It was Ian.
‘Natalie, I’m trying to convince Olga to come into the station. She’s got some useful information for us. On Saturday evening, she spotted Roxy talking to the two women who Murray and I saw come into the club. They’re called Crystal and Sandra B. She thinks her surname is Bright or Brighton, something like that. She was on her way home to get changed for work when she spotted them all in Armston-on-Trent, about three streets away from the nightclub.’
‘Have you got an exact location?’
‘Bishop’s Close.’
‘Thanks. We’ll look into it. See if you can get Olga to make a statement.’
‘Will do.’
‘Also, Cathy Curtis is missing. She sent a text message last night at about seven twenty from somewhere close to Linnet Lane. I’m going to ask Superintendent Melody to provide us with assistance to search for her.’
‘I’ll be back as soon as possible then.’
‘Don’t rush back. Make sure you squeeze as much information as possible from Olga.’
She ended the call. ‘Right, Murray, find out details on Sandra Bright or Brighton. She’s one of the women you saw last night. She and her friend, Crystal, were at Bishop’s Close with Roxy on Saturday night.’
The office phone lit up and Murray answered it. Covering the mouthpiece with his hand, he said, ‘Natalie, I’ve got Cathy’s partner on the line.’
She paced towards him and took the receiver. ‘DI Ward.’
‘It’s Paul Sadler. My boss said you’ve been trying to get hold of me.’
‘That’s right. Cathy isn’t with her friend Megan. Can you think where else she might be?’
‘She isn’t with Megan? But she said… No. I’ve no idea at all where she is. This is mental. She said she was with Megan.’
‘Has she been in contact?’
‘I haven’t heard from her since she texted last night to say she was staying over with Megan.’
‘Weren’t you concerned?’
‘Not really. She said she needed to get out for a few hours and digest what had happened, so she went to Megan’s. They’ve been close friends for a very long time. It was only natural she’d want to spend some time with her. I sent her a couple of messages, but when she didn’t reply, I figured she’d turned off her phone so she could be left alone.’
‘Surely, she’d have left it switched on in case the boys needed her?’
‘They had me. I was at home. She wanted some space and a female shoulder to cry on. That’s understandable, isn’t it?’
Natalie gave a nod but continued. ‘What about this morning? Didn’t you try to contact her to see how she was?’
‘Yes, obviously I did. I messaged her first thing, to let her know the boys were okay and to say I was going to work and would come home at lunchtime, but if she wanted me before then, to ring me or the office, and I’d come back. When she didn’t respond, I thought she might still be asleep or even hungover. Listen, I only gave her what she needed – time out with her oldest friend. Cathy needed a girlfriend – another woman who could understand what she was going through – probably better than me in some ways. Women feel things differently, don’t they? Cathy needed Megan.’
‘Paul, how did she seem when she left?’
‘Still a bit teary but okay – not hysterical or anything. As soon as the liaison officer left, she shut herself in the bedroom and wouldn’t come out for ages. Eventually, when she did, we talked for a while, but I didn’t know what to say to her to make it better. About half past five she said she couldn’t cope hanging around the house and was going to visit Megan, maybe even have a few glasses of wine to numb the pain. She asked if I was okay to look after the boys and I told her I was. I thought it was a good idea she went. She looked so… empty, like the life had been sucked out of her!’
‘And did she drive to Megan’s?’
‘No, she doesn’t drive. She caught the bus. It’s only a fifteen-minute journey.’
‘You didn’t offer to drive her there?’
‘Course I did but she wanted to catch the bus like she usually does. She insisted she needed normality in her life, carry on like any other day or it would drag her down. I didn’t get it but I let her have her own way. I don’t understand why she isn’t with Megan. None of this makes any sense. This
is like Roxy all over again. What the hell’s going on?’
Natalie continued without speculating as to what might have happened. ‘Is there anybody else in her life that she’d go to, a relative, an old friend, a male friend, maybe?’
‘A boyfriend? Not Cathy. She’s not like that. She’s got an aunt in Gloucester, but she’s not seen her for years. Shit! I really can’t think where she’d have gone.’
‘It would be helpful if you could come to the station and talk to me in person. Would that be possible?’
‘Sure. I’ll let my boss know I won’t make my next appointment. I’m about ten minutes from Samford.’
‘Ask for me at reception.’ Natalie collected her thoughts for a minute then said, ‘Lucy, Cathy must have travelled by bus. Find out the times from the stop closest to her and see which buses went into Armston-on-Trent. Some of them have cameras on board. Get the footage checked out. See if she was on board and alone.’
Natalie then rang the technical department to request they check through CCTV footage in and around the area they believed Cathy to have walked the evening before. It was a huge task and she didn’t have the manpower to do it herself. She got affirmation and was about to ring Superintendent Melody when Murray announced, ‘I’ve found a Sandra Bryton who lives in Bishop’s Close. Think that’s her?’
‘Got any photographs of her?’
‘I’ve only just fed her details into the general database. Hang on a sec. Okay. Here we go.’ He squinted at the picture of the dark-haired woman with wide, almond-shaped eyes. ‘That’s her. Says her profession is dancer. She was charged with soliciting in 2014.’