by Carol Wyer
‘We need to talk to her immediately.’
‘I’ll do it.’ Murray sprang to his feet and grabbed the car keys from his desk.
Lucy, who’d been engaged in a telephone conversation, also stood up. ‘The bus depot is looking into it. Want me to stay here or interview Ellie?’ she asked Natalie.
‘Ellie, and while you’re in the area, talk to the Curtis boys about their mum. When Ian gets back, I’ll send him to Linnet Lane to ask around and see if anyone noticed Cathy in the area last night. Where the fuck can she have disappeared to?’
‘Beats me, and why? I can’t fathom out why she’d go off like that, unless she really was grieving so badly she wandered off aimlessly,’ said Lucy. She threw on her jacket, picked up a folder and slid in photographs of Cathy and Roxy.
Natalie was still puzzling it over. ‘It makes little to no sense. Why leave her family at such a difficult time? Megan wanted to dash around to comfort her but Cathy kept her at bay, claiming she wanted to be alone. That’s weird too. And what was so important she made up an excuse to go out and stay away from home? You don’t suppose she’d have gone to see her other son, Oliver, do you?’
Lucy tucked the file under her arm and thought for a second. ‘All the way to Nottingham? It’s possible, but why not tell them that’s where she was headed?’
‘I’ll ring him anyway. Grief does strange things to people although I have a bad feeling about this.’
‘Hope you’re wrong.’
‘Me too.’
It was difficult to get hold of Oliver. He’d left in the early hours on a training exercise and was not due back at the barracks until later.
‘Is there no way of contacting him?’ she asked the major who’d taken her call.
‘Unfortunately, not until the squad’s returned.’
‘We’re searching for his mother and trying to establish if she visited him last night.’
‘She’d have had to pass through security, and I can see, looking at the visitor log, that there were no visitors at all to the barracks yesterday evening.’
‘How did Oliver take the news of his sister’s death?’
‘I’m afraid I can’t answer that. His sergeant would have passed on the sad news.’
Natalie had no option other than to try again later. ‘What time do you think I could get hold of Oliver?’
‘After six. I do hope you find Mrs Curtis before then.’
She thanked the man and rang off. They had no way of knowing if Cathy had gone in search of her son and met him outside the barracks. A small voice in her head said it was highly unlikely. What concerned her most was that Cathy had gone to Armston-on-Trent. Had she gone to confront the Lang brothers?
Using the office phone, she called Superintendent Aileen Melody, still brooding over the facts. Would a mother leave her other children so soon after they’d found out their sister had been killed and not stay in touch with them? It didn’t seem normal to Natalie, and that was what worried her most. Cathy ought to have rung Seth and Charlie by now, if only to assure them she was okay. Invisible ants crawled across her scalp. Cathy had to be found quickly. Her life could well be in danger.
She listened to the purring of the phone then a click and Aileen’s calm voice. ‘DI Ward. How can I help?’
Ian lifted the paper cup to his lips and tried not to wince as the now cold tea slid down his throat. He couldn’t leave the café without trying one more time to persuade Olga to come into the station.
She looked at him with liquid eyes and shook her head. ‘If word gets out I told you about Crystal and Sandra, I’ll be fired, and I can’t lose my job. I’ve got a little kid to support and they’re really big friends with Gavin and Kirk.’
‘How come they’re so friendly? They’re only club-goers.’
‘No, they’re what we call VIPs – they get special privileges like permanent use of the private rooms and free drinks.’
‘Why do they get that?’
‘For bringing in business – people who pay a fortune to rent the private rooms – and they dance, of course.’
‘Is that what goes on in those rooms – lap dancing?’
She shrugged. ‘I’m always on the door so I’ve never been to a private party. All I know is the guys who book them are usually loaded and happy to spend whatever it costs on a good time, so Gavin and Kirk look after them. Crystal and Sandra know all the big-spenders in the area and are always invited to the private parties.’
Olga looked as good in the daylight as she had done on the door. Today she had her hair pinned back and dangling green earrings that matched her thin-strapped vest top, exposing an unblemished alabaster décolletage.
She gave him a long look before shaking her head again. ‘I can’t come to the station. You have no idea how hard it is to find work that lets me spend time with my three-year-old. She’s my life. I can’t risk losing my job.’
Ian felt for her. His girlfriend, Scarlett, was in a similar position, trying to look after their daughter, Ruby. She’d chosen to leave Ian and bring up Ruby alone but she found it difficult, even with Ian’s financial support. He’d never let down his family.
‘What’s your daughter’s name?’
‘Maisie,’ she replied and her eyes lit up at her name. ‘You got kids?’
He nodded. ‘Ruby – she’s still a baby.’
She gave an approving nod. ‘Children make you complete, don’t they?’
He didn’t want to go into his private life and was relieved when she continued talking.
‘That’s why I wanted to tell you I’d seen that girl, Roxy. She’s somebody’s daughter. I hope Crystal and Sandra can help but you can’t let them know I saw them.’
‘We wouldn’t reveal your name. You can make a statement and that’d be that?’
She pushed her cup away and shook her head. ‘I’m not doing it so don’t try. I wasn’t even sure I wanted to talk to you here. It was only because you had a kind face and seemed so worried about Roxy. I’ve done my duty so don’t ask for more.’ She scraped back her chair and stood up.
‘Olga, it would really assist us if you’d make a statement.’
‘How? I’ve told you everything I know.’ With that she moved off towards the door.
Ian returned without Olga only minutes after Natalie had persuaded Aileen to send officers to Armston to search for Cathy. He explained the situation to Natalie, who dragged her fingertips along the back of her neck, teasing the knots and easing tension that was building up in her muscles. Eventually she nodded. He’d managed to get some useful information they could act on.
‘We’ve established Sandra Bryton was charged with soliciting in 2014. See what you can drag up on Crystal. I’m going to interview Paul Sadler. When you’re done, leave any info on my desk and head to Linnet Lane. Cathy was in that area last night. Find me a witness who saw her. There’s a small unit hunting for her in that area. Let me know if there are any developments.’ She raced down the corridor, aware that it was now gone ten in the morning and Cathy had made no attempt to contact her family. Natalie was more convinced than ever that something dreadful had happened to her.
Murray parked in a side street off Bishop’s Close and walked to Sandra Bryton’s flat, one of four above a fish and chip shop that wasn’t yet open for business. He pressed the buzzer and waited for a response. There was none. He pressed again and this time held his finger in position until a voice on the intercom below the worn buttons snapped, ‘Take your fucking finger off my buzzer.’
‘Morning. I’m DS Anderson from Samford HQ. Could I have a quick word with you, please?’
‘What about?’
‘I’d prefer to discuss it inside.’
‘I’m not dressed yet. You woke me up.’
‘I’m sorry but we’re investigating the death of a young girl.’
The intercom fell silent. Murray pressed the buzzer repeatedly.
‘Will you stop that?’ The voice was back.
‘Just
let me in for a minute. We have reason to believe you might know this girl.’
There was silence again then, ‘Go away and don’t press my buzzer again or I’ll have you for harassment.’
‘I’m not harassing you. I’m doing my job. If you won’t answer my questions, I’ll have no choice but to insist you accompany me to the station. I’ll be waiting for you to decide. I won’t be going anywhere.’
There was more swearing and finally, ‘Okay. Come up. Second floor.’
The door opened with a loud click and Murray walked into the dingy hallway. The smell of stale grease clung to the darkened walls and caused him to wrinkle his nose as he clunked up uneven wooden steps.
Sandra stood in the doorway in a kimono dressing gown that reached the top of her thighs. ‘Come in,’ she said and stalked ahead of him. He followed her down a narrow corridor and into a galley kitchen with barely enough room for two people to pass each other. She walked to the far end and filled a kettle before turning to face him. The night before he’d put her in her mid-twenties, but in the daylight and without make-up he saw she looked in her late thirties. He held out a photograph of Roxy and showed it to her. She made a big show of taking it from him, staring at it and returning it to him. ‘Never seen her before.’
Murray waited a beat before saying, ‘That’s not true, Sandra. We have a witness who saw you with Roxanne Curtis on Saturday evening, here on this street.’
‘What witness?’
‘I’m not at liberty to disclose that information; however, we’re investigating this girl’s death and we’d appreciate your cooperation.’
Sandra stared at him hard, and for a moment there was something in her expression that suggested she knew more than she was willing to say.
‘Roxy was killed in a house fire.’
Sandra blinked rapidly and looked away briefly, causing Murray to be even more certain she knew something.
‘The fire at Kirk and Gavin Lang’s house. You must know about it. I heard that you’re good friends with them.’
‘I wouldn’t say good friends. I go to their club a fair bit, do some partying, do some dancing, but you already know that, don’t you? You saw me there last night.’
‘You knew their house had caught fire.’
‘Of course I did. I was at the nightclub on Saturday night too. I heard about it. I don’t know anything about this girl though.’
‘Yet you were with her the day she died.’
‘Your information is wrong.’
Murray tried a different approach. ‘Sandra, she was only fourteen. We need all the help we can get. Give me something. Please.’
His words caused a reaction. She moistened her lips and appeared to be about to speak, then ran fingers through her fringe and lifted it away from her eyes.
Murray looked at her for the longest minute but she didn’t respond. ‘Where does your friend Crystal live?’
She remained silent.
‘You may as well tell me because I’ll find out one way or the other, and all you’ll do is waste my time. Time I could spend finding out exactly what happened to Roxy.’
‘Crystal’s upstairs. Number fifteen, but she doesn’t know anything either.’
‘You seem very certain of that fact.’
‘I am.’
‘If anything springs to mind that might help the investigation, please contact me.’ He held out a business card, levelling his gaze on her. He’d have to bide his time. She wasn’t going to crack. He took his leave and climbed the stairs to the next floor, where he knocked on the door and hoped he’d fare better with Crystal.
It took several attempts to get Crystal to answer her door. She was older than Sandra but looked younger, with a neat figure, clear skin and large, dove-grey eyes. Her hair was cut into a long bob that had been dyed red from halfway down to the ends. She frowned at him in bewilderment.
‘DS Anderson,’ he said, holding up his identity card. ‘I need to discuss Roxanne Curtis with you.’
She opened her mouth then halted mid-action, the frown deepening. He took a chance and said quickly, ‘Don’t deny that you know her. We have proof you do. I’ve been talking to Sandra.’ He hoped she’d assume Sandra had confessed to knowing the girl and it worked. Befuddled with sleep, she stepped back to allow him to enter. As he was about to, he sensed movement behind him. He turned and faced Sandra, who’d followed him upstairs.
‘Please return to your flat immediately,’ he said coldly.
Sandra looked past him and at her friend. ‘I never said anything, okay?’
‘Immediately,’ Murray said, raising his voice.
Sandra backed off but she’d already done the damage. Crystal now regarded him differently and held onto the door with one hand. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ she said.
‘You do, Crystal. A teenage girl, Roxanne Curtis, died in a house fire in Linnet Lane in the early hours of Sunday morning. She was last seen talking to you and Sandra. Now, you can either talk to me or come with me to the station. I can even have you charged with perverting the course of justice.’
‘Oh, please!’ She tilted her head back as she spoke, a gesture of irritation. She stared at the dingy ceiling for a minute before lowering her head.
‘Or you can tell me what you know and make it easy for yourself. Given you were the last people to set eyes on her and you know the homeowners, you could even find yourself under suspicion for her death.’
‘I haven’t got time or energy for all this shit. Come in,’ Crystal said and moved away.
She led him into a small, tidy sitting room and pointed at a chair. He sat down and waited while she dropped onto another and reached for a packet. She sparked a lighter, lit a cigarette and wouldn’t speak until she’d inhaled and exhaled very slowly. Only then did she fix her eyes on him.
‘Tell me about Roxanne,’ he said.
‘Poor little cow. We met her a few months ago on our way home from the nightclub. It was about five in the morning and she was huddled under a bridge in tears, hardly any clothes on and shivering like crazy. It was bloody freezing that day. We felt sorry for her. We brought her back here to warm up. I made her a hot chocolate and she told us she’d run away. She hadn’t taken any clothes or money with her – it was a last-minute flee after some row with her folks. We didn’t pry. She was a tough little cookie, but shit, she was only thirteen at the time and we couldn’t let anything happen to her. She reminded me of my kid sister – all hard on the outside but vulnerable inside. We eventually convinced her to go back home. It’s a bloody dangerous world out there and she could have got into all sorts of trouble.’
She crossed her legs and studied her cigarette before continuing. ‘We didn’t see her again. Not until Saturday. She’d come looking for us. She needed a place to stay for a couple of days. Things were really bad at home and she was scared. I said she could stay in my spare room. She seemed really panicky but she wouldn’t open up. She just looked at me with really big, frightened eyes and I knew in a heartbeat she was telling the truth. I’d seen that look before. Something had scared the shit out of her. I didn’t ask any questions. I told her Sandra and I were working at the club, but I gave her my number in case she needed anything and left her here. When I got back, she’d gone. Simply vanished. That’s it. That’s all I can tell you.’
‘Did she mention Kirk or Gavin to you either Saturday night or the first time you met her?’
‘No.’
‘And you had no idea she’d gone to their house?’
‘None whatsoever. Last night was the first I heard of it when Kirk told us. He reckoned she was the one who set his place alight but I don’t think so. I think that Roxy was frightened of someone.’ She stared at the cigarette and sighed then snuffed it out by pinching the end of it together with long, painted nails before dropping it onto a saucer. ‘What a waste.’
‘Would you be willing to come and make a statement at the station?’ Murray asked. He’d dropped the hard act. Cr
ystal was clearly upset by what had transpired.
‘Yeah. I don’t know anything else though, okay? I’ve told you everything.’
‘Sure. I understand. Could you do one more thing for me?’
‘What?’
‘Persuade Sandra to talk to me and make a statement too. It would help the investigation. Roxy was only a teenager. A girl with her whole life in front of her. We need to find out who did this. For her family.’
Twelve
Monday, 2 July – Morning
While Murray was in Armston trying to persuade Sandra to talk to him, Lucy was back in Clearview at the Stockwell Estate, mounting the stairs to the landing where she and Natalie had first encountered Boo. She walked past Ellie’s door and made her way around to the far side where she’d spotted the child’s grandmother when the woman had called Boo in. She rang the bell and heard shuffling and a woman’s voice the other side of the door.
‘Boo, shift yourself!’
She opened the door and her mouth opened in surprise. ‘Oh, I thought you were someone else. Hang on.’ She turned away and called, ‘It’s okay. It’s not Molly.’ A small voice shouted a reply that Lucy couldn’t hear. The woman faced her again, both hands on the half-closed door.
Lucy showed her credentials. ‘I’m part of a team investigating the death of Roxanne Curtis. You might know her as Roxy. Could you help me out?’
‘Roxy?’
‘Do you know her?’
‘I think I know the name but I can’t place her.’
‘She was one of Ellie’s friends.’
The woman pursed her lips as if she’d suddenly got a sour taste in her mouth. ‘Oh.’
‘We were here yesterday and we came across your daughter on the landing. She told us Ellie and some friends were downstairs smoking the other day, and I wondered if you’d be able to identify them.’