by Carol Wyer
He released a long sigh. ‘Really?’
‘Yes, so if you wouldn’t mind, I’ll ask my officer here to take down the details and then you and Seth can leave.’
‘You’re letting him go?’
‘For now.’
She left Ian to get the information they needed and wandered down the corridor towards the interview room where she’d find Gavin Lang. Her head felt fuzzy, her mind unfocused, and she wondered if she was being overzealous in asking about Oliver’s whereabouts. Then she reminded herself that she had a job to do, and gathering facts was a part of it. Chetwynd Barracks was only an hour away by car. If his whereabouts couldn’t be confirmed, they’d have to dig deeper. She couldn’t afford to discount anything, and Oliver could easily be covering up for his brother or himself. It was a sad fact but people lied, especially when they were cornered.
Twenty
Monday, 2 July – Late Evening
Murray was pleased to see Lucy, who’d finally returned from the Stockwell Estate.
‘Cold Chinese grub if you fancy it,’ he said, pointing at the takeaway boxes on the desk near the door.
‘Yum. Who doesn’t love cold takeaway?’ she said with genuine enthusiasm, hunting through the remaining unopened boxes and settling on sweet-and-sour pork. She picked up a plastic fork and stabbed at a piece. Chewing and making appreciative noises at the same time, she joined Murray by his monitor.
‘What’s happening?’ she mumbled through a mouthful.
‘Seth admits he was at the canal yesterday afternoon but didn’t see his mum there. He suffers from depression and often goes there when he’s highly stressed.’
‘Well, according to Ellie, he’s got a violent streak.’
‘It doesn’t make sense though. Why would he go to the Langs’ house in the first place? Secondly, what the fuck was Roxy doing there? Thirdly, why would he burn down the house? And finally, what motive does he have for killing his mum? I can’t work it out.’
‘Buggered if I know. Where’s Natalie?’
‘With Ian. They’ve interviewed Kirk Lang and now Gavin. The fuckers kept us hanging about for their lawyer so she made them wait for her and spoke to Seth first.’
Lucy chased a piece of pork around the greasy box with her fork until she speared it. She waved it at Murray. ‘You know what I think? I think Gavin and Kirk are shifty bastards who are up to no good. I still reckon they burnt down their own house for insurance purposes and somehow Roxy got caught up in it. There’s somebody or something we haven’t yet uncovered.’ She chomped on the food and searched about for something to wash it down with.
‘There’s lemonade or tangy orange,’ said Murray.
‘Jeez! It’s like being at a kids’ picnic, which means you must have chosen the menu. You never did move on from fish fingers and chicken dippers, did you?’
She received a middle finger. Locating the bottle of lemonade, she partly unscrewed the top and allowed the foam to rush to the surface and recede again before unscrewing it completely. She poured it into a plastic tumbler, swigged it and then said, ‘I’m going to see if I can get hold of Seth’s medical history. I don’t know who’s lying here but if Seth is as violent as Ellie claims, he might be feeding us bullshit.’
Gavin Lang was on his feet as soon as Natalie walked into the room. The same lawyer who’d sat in with Kirk was with him, and he glanced at his watch to drive home Gavin’s point.
‘About fucking time!’ Gavin snarled.
‘I’m sorry about the delay. It couldn’t be avoided.’
‘Really?’ His tone was harsh.
‘Really,’ she replied and pulled out a chair. ‘Would you mind sitting down?’
‘I’ve been sat for a bloody hour. Can we get this over with quickly? I’ve got to get to the club.’
Natalie requested the recording device be set into play and followed procedure by announcing her name and rank. Ian, who’d joined her, did likewise.
‘It shouldn’t take long. I wanted to ask you about Cathy Curtis,’ she said.
‘Never heard of her.’
‘Do you recognise this woman?’ Natalie slid the photograph of Cathy across the desk.
Ian explained what was happening for the purposes of the recorder. ‘DI Ward is showing Gavin Lang a photograph of Cathy Curtis.’
‘No.’ He partly covered his mouth with his hand as he spoke, and Natalie knew he was lying.
‘Could you make sure, please?’
‘I don’t recognise her.’ He moved his hand directly in front of his mouth, a classic involuntary gesture of a person not telling the truth.
‘She and a friend went to Extravaganza on Saturday, December the second.’
‘Do you have any idea how many people pass through our doors? I see so many faces every week, I can’t be expected to remember them all.’
‘It was a night when you had free entry for women.’
‘That doesn’t help me in the slightest. We often run free entry nights for women. There’d have been loads more women than usual at the club on those nights.’
‘According to her friend Megan, you spent some time with Cathy.’
‘I don’t recall that.’
‘She said you were quite interested in her?’
‘I doubt it,’ he scoffed.
‘What do you mean?’
‘She was probably coming on to me and I was being polite. Happens a lot.’
Natalie’s eyelids flickered in irritation. ‘Again, according to her friend, it was definitely the other way around and you were showing a lot of interest in her. In fact, so much so that Cathy felt uncomfortable and left the club.’
‘Utter crap! I was only being civil.’
‘So, you do remember her.’
‘No. I don’t. I’m only saying that I treat all women in a civilised manner. If indeed I did talk to her, she misconstrued events.’
‘Apparently, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from her cleavage.’
‘For crying out loud! What is this? I don’t know this woman, all right? If she was displaying and wiggling her tits under my nose, I might have glanced at them. I’m human, okay? I didn’t try anything on with her or any of our clients. I don’t need to. I’ve had plenty of girlfriends in my time. I’m in a healthy relationship, with Daisy, in case you’ve forgotten. I don’t chase after women.’
‘Are you categorically denying knowing or speaking to the woman in the photograph?’
‘I damn well am. If I spoke to her, I don’t remember it. Now, can I go?’
‘In a moment. Could you tell me where you were yesterday evening between six and nine?’
‘The tea shop.’
‘You mean the tea room in Linnet Lane?’
‘Yes… I was in the Vintage Tea Room in Linnet Lane with my girlfriend, Daisy Goldsmith, between six and nine,’ he replied in a monotonous tone. ‘I was upstairs in the flat.’
‘Were you alone?’
‘For some of the time. Daisy popped out.’
‘Was your brother there?’
‘No. He was with one of his friends then went to the nightclub to open up.’
Kirk had told her similar and she had the name of his friend to check out his alibi.
‘What time did Daisy go out?’
‘I can’t be sure. I was asleep. It’s been a stressful few days and I took a nap. She was there when I dozed off and gone when I woke up at about eight thirty. I watched a film and she returned to the flat around an hour later.’
Natalie had had enough of the bristling cocksure man opposite her. In spite of his attitude, his alibi wasn’t watertight, and until she could confirm he was actually in the flat, he was a potential suspect. However, she needed reason to keep him detained, and unless they found a connection between him, Roxy and Cathy, there was little more she could do. It had been a long, frustrating and fruitless day and she’d had enough. She terminated the interview and sent Gavin on his way. Some days it was better to walk away for a while and wait fo
r everything to settle so she could get a clearer picture.
Back upstairs, Lucy had unearthed some information on Seth. He’d been attending a community mental health centre for the past year. Natalie, back from interviewing Gavin, rubbed at her troublesome toe and grunted.
‘Oliver insisted Seth would never harm either Roxy or Cathy and although Seth admitted he was at the canal around the same time as his mother, we can’t establish a motive for attacking them, or a link between him and the Langs. Ian, where are you with Oliver’s alibi?’ Natalie asked.
‘His friends confirmed he was with them Saturday night until gone midnight, and one of them saw him jogging around the barracks at five yesterday.’
‘Okay. That’s one more ruled out. We got anything else to chase up?’ Natalie looked hopefully at Murray, who shook his head. She eased her shoe back on. ‘Then fuck it. Let’s call it a day.’
Tomorrow was another day. She hoped it would yield better results. So far, she had absolutely nothing to show for their efforts.
Twenty-One
Monday, 2 July – Late Evening
Habib Malik drags his fingers through his dark hair, coating them lightly in the gel he’s used. Like his dad always tells him, appearances are important, and after tonight, he’s going to hotfoot it around to Nadia’s house via the all-night grocery store for a box of chocolates and some flowers. Tucker would laugh his head off if he knew what he was planning and tell him he was a muppet for spending any money at all on a girl, especially frigid Nadia. Thing is he feels really guilty about Saturday night and he doesn’t want to lose Nadia. Frigid or not, he really likes her and she’s into romantic gestures. What can be more romantic than chocolates and flowers?
He rubs his hands together at the prospect of receiving so much money – five hundred quid. It’s way more than he’s ever had in his life. He’s already decided what to do with it: he’ll give some to Tucker – maybe a hundred – and then the rest is going towards his ‘leaving home’ fund. He hates Clearview, and every single penny he can save is one step closer to getting out and moving on.
He casts about the large field. It’s a weird place to meet up, and from where he stands, he can make out the roof of the burnt house opposite, its timbers like a huge skeleton in the now fading light. No sooner does the sun disappear than the temperature drops several degrees, raising goose pimples on his arms, and he shivers but not from the cold. He turns away from the house, unable to look at it any longer.
Linnet Lane is silent – not one single car, bike or person in sight. He wonders if one day he’ll be able to afford a house like one of those opposite, maybe with a girl like Nadia.
A rumbling of an engine alerts him to an oncoming car. He tries to force back the grin spreading on his face as the car slows. Easiest money he’ll ever earn, and all he has to do for it is keep his mouth shut.
Twenty-Two
Tuesday, 3 July – Morning
‘Can’t Dad take me?’ Leigh’s plaintive voice cut through Natalie’s headache. She’d slept badly, plagued by feelings of inadequacy. She hadn’t made progress on the investigation and was wondering what direction she should take next.
‘He’s got an interview on the other side of town. There won’t be enough time to drop you off at school and get there in time for it.’
‘But it means I’ll get to school too early and have to wait about.’
‘I know, sweetheart, but it isn’t raining or freezing cold.’
‘But I’ll be, like, hanging!’
‘Give it a rest, Leigh,’ said David. ‘You’ll only be twenty minutes early. Your mum has to go to work too. Go on. Get ready.’
Natalie shot him a grateful glance. He looked as drained as she felt. A wave of guilt washed over her. She’d tossed and turned most of the night and undoubtedly disturbed him.
Leigh, still in her nightdress and large furry bear slippers, stomped upstairs to get ready. Natalie scooted up the stairs after Leigh. She needed a plaster for her toe. She’d rubbed it raw. That’d teach her to wear shoes that weren’t properly broken in. She heard mumblings from Leigh’s room and paused to catch the drift of the conversation.
‘I really need your help. I forgot all about the stupid homework Felix set us and he’ll totally freak if I don’t hand it in today. I already got a black mark for not handing in the last lot. I don’t suppose I can borrow your answers, can I? No… Mum’s dropping me off early. She’s got some big case on… I know. Bummer. Look, if you photograph your answers and WhatsApp them to me now, I’ll be able to copy them while I wait. Yeah. Sure. I’ll put in a couple of deliberate mistakes so he won’t guess. You’re the best. Love ya, babe.’
Felix was the name of Leigh’s maths teacher, one of the older teachers at her school, and it sounded like Leigh was about to cheat on her homework. Natalie couldn’t do anything about it without proving she’d been eavesdropping. She examined her options. Both resulted in her rowing with Leigh. Things were tense enough at home without falling out with her daughter over copying another pupil’s work. Leigh wouldn’t be the only child at school to borrow answers from another, but she felt a pang all the same – her girl was gradually changing and becoming more teenager-like by the day. She smoothed down the plaster and pulled off a couple more strips in case she needed them then scurried downstairs to grab a cup of tea. David was at the table, eating a bowl of cornflakes.
‘Did Leigh get her homework done last night?’ she asked.
‘I suppose so. She was in her room all evening. Why do you ask?’
‘No reason,’ she replied as she poured the last of the tea into her cup. ‘Must be odd for her with Josh being off now.’
‘I guess so.’
Josh hadn’t appeared for breakfast. Even though he didn’t have to go to school, he’d been up and about the last few days, and it seemed strange not to see him in the kitchen. She had no idea how he’d fill his days if he didn’t get some sort of job.
‘You seen Josh?’ she asked.
‘No.’ David spooned in the last few flakes and then dropped the spoon into the bowl. ‘Nat…’ he began.
‘Yes?’
He shook his head. ‘Nothing.’
‘Go on? What is it?’
There was a lengthy pause followed by, ‘Are we okay?’
She took a sip of her tea. ‘Course we are.’
‘You sure?’
‘Yes. Why?’
‘You seemed distant last night.’
She knew what he was referring to. In bed, he’d tried to hold her but she’d rolled away from him. ‘The investigation. It’s got under my skin. I can’t see which way to turn. That’s all.’
‘You sure?’
She nodded and finished the tea in two gulps. ‘Better finish getting ready. We’ll talk later if you like.’
Both knew that was unlikely but he nodded nevertheless.
‘Fingers crossed for your interview today.’
‘Cheers. I’m trying not to get too hopeful.’
‘You should always be hopeful.’ She slipped away before he could say any more.
The office was empty when she arrived at eight forty-five. She’d told the team to assemble at nine and that gave her fifteen minutes to decide what her plan of action would be. If she was honest, she didn’t know which way to turn next, and her limited options involved talking to Roxy’s friends and interviewing the staff at Extravaganza again. The fact Roxy had been at the Langs’ house bothered her hugely because they hadn’t yet established why she’d been there, and there were two more things that still troubled her: the first was that Ellie hadn’t asked what had happened to Roxy or how she’d died, and the second was that Charlie had overheard an argument between her and her mother, seemingly over a boy. She speculated if it was somehow relevant and if somebody else – this boy – was involved.
A tap on the glass made her look up. Mike, unshaven, was standing outside. She beckoned him into the office, glad of somebody to talk to.
‘Hey, how�
��s it going?’ he asked.
‘Still not getting anywhere.’
‘The footprints matched Seth’s trainers. Did that not help?’
‘It proves he was there but not that he had anything to do with Cathy’s murder. He suffers from depression and the canal is his favourite place to go when he has a bad episode. It could be a coincidence he was there around the time his mother was killed.’
He gave her a look. ‘But you don’t believe in coincidences.’
‘I know. That’s what’s bugging me the most. You haven’t found anything that might have been used to strangle her, have you?’
‘We searched the canal but there was no sign of anything that fitted the bill. I reckon the killer took it away with them. We have identified the fibres under her nails though. They’re cream cotton twill. She wasn’t wearing anything that matched them so you can assume they came from whatever was used to strangle her, or whatever the killer was wearing.’
‘Cream cotton twill fibres – from?’
‘Shirts, dresses, jackets, cots, tea towels, bedding, curtains… want me to continue?’
Her eyebrows lifted. ‘That’s quite enough to stump me, thanks.’
‘Nat, I know it’s tough, but we’re all doing what we can to assist you. We’ll get there in the end.’
‘You know I appreciate that.’
He smiled and the wrinkles around his eyes deepened attractively. There was a brief silence before he lifted his hand and turned to depart.
‘Mike!’
‘Yes?’
‘Thanks.’
‘What for?’
‘Reminding me why I’m doing this job.’
‘I didn’t say anything.’
‘I know, but you are as dedicated an individual as I could hope to work with.’
He made a mock bow and left. His words had resonated with her. She didn’t believe in coincidences. Cathy had gone to the canal for a reason, and if it had been to search for her son, she’d have told Paul that was where she was headed and not that she was going to Megan’s. She’d taken Roxy’s toy cat with her and she’d passed the house where her daughter had been found. Natalie suspected she’d been going to meet somebody else, and the fact she’d written Natalie’s number on a piece of paper led Natalie to believe she’d uncovered something. Cathy might even have arranged to meet her killer.