Somebody's Daughter

by Carol Wyer

  Natalie opened the drawer in the white desk on which stood a Faber-Castell leather elephant pen-holder offering an answer. Watercolours and sketching materials lay within. Natalie pulled out a pad and glanced at the first few charcoal sketches, of girls’ heads and shoulders, or parts of their faces, large eyes, strong features, perfect lips and confident personas. Had she used anyone as a muse or were these sketches of friends? Natalie looked through them. There was nobody she recognised. She replaced the notepad, finding it wouldn’t fit back in the drawer. Something was blocking it, a rubber or pencil sharpener maybe. She felt for the object and withdrew a plastic sachet of white crystalline powder. As she held it to the light, she heard a soft rustle. She turned around to find Lucy in the doorway holding an identical bag. ‘Snap,’ she said.

  ‘Is it what I think it is?’

  ‘Looks strangely like coke to me.’

  ‘Interesting. Especially given both our other victims appear to have also taken drugs. We’ll have to question her father about it.’

  ‘I agree but I bet you he knows nothing about it. You find anything else?’

  ‘No. Not even a telly in here.’

  Lucy motioned towards the bedroom. ‘It’s in there. It’s hidden inside the bedstead and pops up when you press a button.’

  ‘Was there a laptop or iPad in there too?’

  ‘Yes. He isn’t going to be happy but we need to take it away and check it.’

  ‘Bring it with you. Time to go.’

  Eugene was slouched in a wide chair, head in hands, dog by his feet.

  ‘Sir, we’ll have to take this laptop with us,’ said Natalie.

  He lifted his face, eyes red-rimmed, and swallowed before speaking. ‘All right.’

  ‘I’m afraid I also have to ask you about some drugs we found in her rooms.’

  ‘Drugs? Don’t talk garbage. She didn’t take any drugs.’

  Lucy showed him the bags. ‘We found these in her drawers.’

  ‘You planted them there!’

  ‘No, sir, we didn’t.’

  ‘Could be bath salts or talcum powder.’

  Lucy gave a small nod. ‘We’re not 100 per cent certain but we’ll have them tested in the lab to be sure.’

  ‘First you suggest she sold her body like some common whore, and now you’re telling me she was a drug addict.’

  ‘That’s not what we’re insinuating,’ said Lucy.

  His gaze travelled the length of her body, a sneer pulling at his mouth. ‘A super-crime-unit! It’s laughable. If this is the best Samford has, then woe betide us all.’

  Lucy adopted her sincerest tone. ‘I understand you’ve had the most terrible news, but there’s no need for—’

  ‘For what? For speaking the truth? You tell me my daughter’s been murdered, and instead of showing me respect and consideration, you cast aspersions about her. It’s sickening. Nothing short of sickening. How is this policing at its best? What are you actually doing to find the bastard who killed her? Taking away little bags of white powder and asking if she knew any whores.’ He locked eyes with Lucy, who maintained her calm.

  ‘Among other things, we’ve been canvassing the street where she was killed, and we believe she’d been drinking in a nearby establishment before she was attacked. We’re looking into it and are hopeful we’ll find a witness who saw her. We’ve also got a team delving into her phone records to see who she contacted last night, and we’ll examine her laptop for further clues. We’ll pull out all the stops to find the person responsible for her death.’

  He grunted a response and gradually unfurled his balled fists.

  ‘I’d like to make a statement to the press,’ said Lucy.

  ‘I’d rather you didn’t.’

  ‘Can I ask why not?’

  ‘No, you can’t. I don’t want you to talk about my daughter. I’ll handle the press.’

  Lucy bristled. ‘Sorry, sir, but that’s not how it works.’

  His head sank into his shoulders and eyes blazed. His words were a hissed warning. ‘It works the way I say it works! Now, get out of my house.’ Catching sight of the bags of powder in Lucy’s hand, he added, ‘You’re supposed to be investigating her murder not labelling her a criminal. I won’t stand for it. She was honest and decent… and strong.’

  ‘I can assure you we are not labelling her a criminal and we shall do everything we can to find the person responsible for Rachel’s death. If you can think of anything that might help us with our enquiries, please would you contact me?’ She stood before him and offered him a business card. The dog growled but she continued to hold out the card, which Eugene snatched from her hand, and only then did she leave the room, Natalie by her side.

  ‘What the hell happened there? I know he was in shock but what a bizarre reaction.’ Lucy threw herself into the driver’s seat and slammed the door shut. ‘Reputation is what’s important to him. He doesn’t want Rachel to be seen as anything other than perfect.’

  ‘He was proud of her. It’s been a massive shock to him. She was his only child and heir to the family business.’

  ‘Even so, there’s something about his attitude that doesn’t sit right. He went mental when he thought we were linking her to sex workers. I’m going to ask the team to take a closer look at him.’

  ‘It wouldn’t hurt to. You checked out the sales rep who found Amelia’s body, didn’t you?’

  ‘First thing. Benjamin was in Basingstoke yesterday, visiting his in-laws with his wife and two kids. He was nowhere near Samford.’

  After a pause, Lucy continued, ‘I know the other two victims were soliciting but there was no need to be disrespectful. They were young girls – somebody’s daughters – and we don’t know what drove them to be on the streets. I despise blinkered attitudes like his.’

  ‘Let it go, Lucy. Our main concern is establishing links between the victims. The drugs might be a vital clue and maybe they link Tommy to all three.’

  ‘That’s a good call. I’ll ring Pinkney when we get back. The trouble is toxicology reports take forever to come back.’

  ‘Until we know otherwise, we’ll bear it in mind.’

  The sky had lifted and rays of sunshine now shone brightly. Natalie squinted and lowered the sun visor then looked out of the side window rather than stare at the brilliant light. A father and daughter were both riding bikes along the pavement, the child, about seven, in a pink helmet and matching coat with yellow flowers. Her mind turned to Mike and Thea. She should try and take an hour off to spend with them both. Thea wouldn’t be back for a fortnight. A familiar pain, the sense of loss, stabbed her in the chest and she shut her eyes.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Sunday, 3 November – Afternoon

  Lucy paced the floor of the office, head lowered like an angry bull. ‘Tommy can’t have disappeared off the face of the earth!’

  Andy stretched his neck left and right, making it pop. ‘We’ve pulled out all the stops and are getting nowhere, guv. Fucker’s gone into hiding. He must know we’re onto him.’

  ‘What about his relatives?’

  His eyebrows lifted high on his creased forehead. ‘Tracking Mr and Mrs Field with no first names, in a county with a population of half a million is… what’s that phrase again… the one about haystacks?’

  ‘I never suggested it would be easy. How are you getting on, Ian?’

  ‘Sorry, guv. Andy’s right. It’s proving impossible without forenames, date of birth or even a town name.’

  She pressed fingers against her temples. ‘Okay, if it’s taking too much time, leave it. Tommy might well have told Sophia a bunch of lies.’ She dropped her hands and continued, ‘It’s only three o’clock. Tommy could be hanging out at a mate’s place with the intention of going back to The Towers later. We’re not giving up on this. I want somebody outside the block every hour until he returns.’ She looked around at the weary faces in front of her, desks littered with energy drinks and chocolate bar wrappers. ‘Thanks to the food boxe
s and nail varnish Natalie and Murray retrieved from Tommy’s flat and sent to Forensics, we’ve established Katie also lived at 114 The Towers, but what about Amelia Saunders? Have we got an address for her yet?’

  Ian shook his head. ‘No, guv.’

  ‘Why the fuck not?’

  ‘Nobody could help us. Poppy and I asked everyone we thought might know her or be associated with her.’

  Poppy spoke quietly. ‘Maybe she lived with Tommy and Katie.’

  Andy was quick to reply. ‘All in one bed?’

  Murray sat forward, elbows on his thighs. ‘It’s not inconceivable. Should we arrange a warrant and do a proper search?’

  Lucy shook her head. ‘I don’t want to do that until I’m certain Tommy isn’t going to go back to the flat. I want to nab him when he does. If he gets as much as a sniff we’ve been there, he’ll remain in hiding. Until then, we’ll work on the premise Amelia lived elsewhere, maybe even shared accommodation with someone, maybe another girl who worked the street, a man…’ Lucy ended the sentence with an exasperated sigh. This was impossible. ‘Three victims and we’ve got naff all on them.’

  ‘I’m meeting a contact this evening who might be able to help.’ Lucy shot a look at the speaker, Celeste, a plain-faced woman with dark eyes, and mousy hair scraped back into a ponytail. Celeste had spent considerable time undercover for the vice squad in Birmingham and was the best placed of all of them to extract information from those who plied their trade on the streets, having built up relations with several informants.

  ‘What time?’

  ‘Six this evening at The Bridge pub.’

  Andy threw his hands up in disgust. ‘We can’t hang around until six on the off-chance some snitch will help us out.’

  Celeste gave a dramatic eye-roll. ‘She’s not a snitch. She’s a contact and one who doesn’t like talking to the police, which is the biggest problem we have here. Nobody on the streets wants to help us out. They don’t trust or like us, any of us. If you can come up with a better idea, I’m all ears.’

  ‘Whoa! Calm down. You on your period or something?’

  ‘Does being a complete jerk come naturally to you, Andy, or do you practise regularly in front of the mirror to perfect the skill?’

  ‘Pack it in!’ Lucy’s voice filled the room. ‘I know this is frustrating but we have to pull together or we’ll get nowhere.’

  Andy leant back, a scowl on his face. ‘Which is exactly where we are… nowhere.’

  Lucy wasn’t going to be drawn into an argument with the man who was tetchy only because they hadn’t got any leverage yet. ‘Where are we on Eugene, Murray?’

  ‘He’s respectable and wealthy and has been linked to a number of high-profile people in town. He’s single and doesn’t appear to have any love interest. Seems to be a highly motivated businessman. And when he isn’t at work he plays golf and hobnobs with the hunting and shooting fraternity.’

  ‘Hobnobs. The biscuits?’ Andy glanced around and, getting no reaction to his comment, went back to scowling while Murray carried on.

  ‘He’s a member of Samford Shooting Lodge, along with other prominent citizens in town. Nothing on him. Not much luck with Rachel either. The surveillance camera at the back of Hardy’s didn’t pick her up last night. If she walked along the road, she must have passed by on the far side of the street. It didn’t capture anything or anyone else either, all night.’

  Lucy screwed her eyes at the news. ‘No traffic all night?’

  ‘Nothing.’

  ‘No traffic or pedestrians all evening and night. That’s odd, isn’t it?’

  ‘Not really. It’s a one-way, narrow, no-parking street used mostly by delivery trucks during working hours. I expect most people would prefer to use Upper Way, which is two lanes, wider pavements and brightly lit, and the shopfronts face onto it.’

  ‘Fair enough, although why Rachel would choose to walk along a dark street instead is a mystery,’ said Lucy.

  Poppy lifted a hand then dropped it immediately, embarrassed by her gesture. ‘She might not have been alone.’

  ‘True. We’ll consider it. Murray, carry on.’

  ‘We’ve spoken to all thirty employees who work at Hardy’s store, and although some found Rachel’s abrasive attitude a little off-putting, she was generally well-regarded. Nobody felt there was any animosity between Eugene and Rachel, and every one of them has an alibi for last night.’

  Lucy’s eyebrows arched. ‘That was quick work.’

  ‘We got lucky, they were all easy to get hold of.’

  ‘Did any of them know or recognise photos of Amelia or Katie?’

  ‘I’m afraid we had no luck on that score.’

  ‘The store backs onto Marston Street but nobody who works there ever saw Katie during their comings and goings, or while taking a break?’

  Poppy raised her hand again, every inch an eager schoolgirl, and interjected with, ‘The Marston Street entrance is only used for deliveries. The staff use the side entrance in the alleyway, connecting Marston Street to Upper Way, and hang there during fag breaks.’ Lucy gave her a nod of acknowledgement that made the girl flush.

  Ian, who’d been keeping an eye on his computer screen during the conversation, cleared his throat. ‘We’ve received an email from Forensics who confirm Rachel was most likely killed close to where her body was found. There are drag marks on the back of her shoes, and specks of composite identical to the composite in the pavement running past the office were found embedded in the right heel of her stockings. They’ve also confirmed the killer used a cheap ballpoint pen to write on her forehead although they can’t be sure of the make.’

  Lucy tapped the tips of her fingers together, making a satisfying thunk. ‘Pinkney told me the analysis of Rachel’s stomach contents revealed she hadn’t eaten all day but there were signs of residual alcohol. If we are to believe she was killed in Marston Street, she probably had a drink nearby. Have you tried all the bars, pubs and restaurants in the vicinity of Hardy’s yet?’

  ‘There are still three left but they don’t open until this evening,’ said Murray.

  ‘If you get no joy with them, try further afield.’

  ‘What about the taxi rank at the far end of Marston Street?’ said Poppy. ‘Have we spoken to the drivers?’

  Andy barked a quiet laugh. ‘You any idea how many drivers drop off and pick up there? Every bloody cab in Samford and from far and wide goes there, and how are we supposed to narrow it to a few cabbies who happened to be there last night? Not to mention all the self-employed guys who drive in and out of town?’

  Poppy’s cheeks turned crimson. ‘It was only a thought.’

  Lucy waved her hand around in circular movements. ‘Andy, that will do! Poppy, it’s a good idea but it’ll use too many resources at this stage. Our priority is to find Tommy. The only link we might have is to do with drugs. It appears the powder we found in Rachel’s room is cocaine, and if we can find out where she bought it, it might be a lead. The tech team found anything on her laptop yet?’

  The question was directed at Ian. ‘She definitely didn’t buy the drugs online. She was on various social media platforms but we’ve found nothing in her chat or browsing history to suggest anything other than she was obsessed with fashion and modern-day culture.’

  ‘Did she not have any hobbies or friends?’

  ‘No hobbies apart from travelling and shopping. She stayed in contact with a few friends from university; nearly all of them now live overseas. One works for a watch company in Switzerland, another runs a hospitality business in Cape Town, and a third is a head hunter and works in London.’

  ‘Didn’t she have any normal friends who aren’t high-flyers or mega-wealthy?’ asked Andy.

  Ian shrugged. ‘Depends on your definition of normal. She had a lot of affluent friends. There’s one woman who lives locally – Georgina King-White. She runs an upmarket salon, Heaven Scent Spa. At the moment, she’s on a flight back from a trip to New Zealand. She’
s due to land late Monday and will be back at work the following day. She has appointments booked for Tuesday afternoon.’

  Before Andy could make any comeback, Lucy spoke. ‘I’ll arrange to talk to her on her return. Has anyone contacted Rachel’s stepmother, Carolina?’

  Murray nodded. ‘I spoke to her and gave her the news about Rachel.’

  ‘How did she seem?’

  ‘Ambivalent. She confirmed she hadn’t spoken to Rachel or Eugene since they divorced, and since that time she has remarried and has been living in Argentina. She wasn’t keen to rake over the past.’

  ‘She couldn’t help us then?’

  ‘Not in any way. I asked about Eugene and she said he was a workaholic but doted on his daughter.’

  ‘Why did they divorce?’ Lucy asked.

  ‘Infidelity. She admitted to having an affair and leaving Eugene. Said she got fed up of playing second fiddle to work and Rachel.’

  Lucy shrugged. ‘Right, everyone, I know we’re all knackered and it’s frustrating and time-consuming, but we need to hit the road again. It doesn’t feel like it but we are making progress, people.’ She gazed at them individually, a football coach preparing her team for their challenge, and her rah-rah speech was met with nods and a small amount of enthusiasm.

  ‘Go, team, go,’ muttered Andy.

  Natalie, confident the team was on top of things and didn’t require her assistance, made her way back home. If she didn’t make any time for Mike and Thea, things would head in the same direction they had with her and David, with work becoming all-consuming and her neglecting those she loved. At least Mike understood the situation. He was slave to similar constraints and worked crazy hours, which was why Nicole had left him.