by Celina Grace
“God, I love spring,” she said to Chloe.
“Me too. You doing anything nice this weekend?”
“House-hunting with Anderton. Again. What about you?”
Chloe grinned. “Couple of dates.”
Kate chuckled. “Haven’t you exhausted Tinder yet?”
“No chance. There’s a never-ending supply of new men.”
“Blimey. Oh, well, have fun.” Kate thought for a moment and then added, “Safe fun.”
Chloe rolled her eyes. “Okay, mum.”
“I mean it.”
“I know, but you don’t have to worry. I’m always careful.”
“Okay. Good. What about that Roman chap you were seeing? The one you met at my Halloween party. He seemed keen.”
Chloe ran a hand through her hair. Usually, she wore it up in a neat twist but today it was loose, falling in golden waves to her shoulders. “I’m still seeing him. I’m just seeing other people as well.” She glanced over at Kate. “He knows that, it’s all above board, I’m not lying to him. I’m just not quite ready for exclusivity yet.”
“Well—” began Kate and then realised they’d arrived at their destination.
Park Lane was easy to find, clearly marked on the sign at its entrance as a ‘Private Road, no parking, turning or cold callers’. Inwardly, Kate rolled her eyes. She pulled up outside number eighteen and pulled on the handbrake.
Chloe was regarding the high golden walls of the house. “Now, is it just me, or does it seem somewhat unfair that one person should be quite that rich?”
“You don’t know that they’re actually rich,” said Kate, getting out of the car.
Chloe scoffed, slamming her own car door. “Come on, that’s a cool three million pound house there, at least.” She shook her head. “How does anyone in this country actually have that kind of money?”
“I don’t know.” Kate checked she had her warrant card and notebook. “Come on, they’re expecting us.”
“This is going to be an interesting conversation,” murmured Chloe as they walked up to the massive front door and Kate raised the brass doorknocker and dropped it with a thump.
The man who answered the door was tall, fairly distinguished looking, with plentiful but greying dark hair and tortoiseshell-framed spectacles. Kate estimated his age at about forty-five. He shook hands with them both, introducing himself as “Terence Buchanan. I confess I’m not sure what this is all about but I hope I can help, officers.” He stood back to allow the two women to enter the hallway. “Please do come through to the drawing room.”
Kate and Chloe followed him. Kate, observing silently, thought she had scarcely seen a more beautifully furnished house. Surreptitiously, she allowed her fingers to brush against the plush grey velvet of an armchair as she walked past it.
Once they were seated, Terence Buchanan offered them refreshments. Normally, Kate would have accepted (it was always useful to have a nosy about without the house owner being present) but she decided against it this time. Succinctly, she explained what their issue was, silently thinking it sounded even more ludicrous when put into words.
Terence’s eyes widened. “A head?” He started to laugh. “Oh, I know exactly what you mean. Sorry, it’s just—” He got up and gestured towards the double doors at the end of the room. “It’s in my study, please do come through.”
Exchanging glances, Kate and Chloe followed him. Immediately, Kate saw the jar and the head within it. Still chuckling, Terence picked it up and held it out to them.
“It’s a prop,” he said, smiling. “I work in the film industry and I borrowed this from a friend of mine. Quite macabre, isn’t it? I can promise you it’s not real though.”
Inwardly rolling her eyes, Kate took the jar. She could see how Josh Kirkwood would have been fooled, particularly in the dark and under the influence of heightened adrenaline. In broad daylight, it was obvious it was not a real head. She looked at Terence. “Would it be all right if I just took it out of this jar for a moment?”
“Of course. Be my guest.”
Whilst Kate was unscrewing the lid to the jar, Chloe asked Terence whether he could shed any light of the feet that they’d recently found. He shook his head. “I’m terribly sorry but that’s absolutely nothing to do with me. You’re welcome to have a look around the place if you want but, no, this funny little head is the only body part lying around here.” He chuckled again. “So bizarre, isn’t it? I can see why you’re flummoxed.”
As he was speaking, the door to the drawing room opened, admitting a very old lady who bent over a polished walking stick. She advanced slowly across the carpet, smiling in a hesitant manner.
“May I introduce my mother?” Terence indicated with an incline of his head. “Mrs Mary Warner.” Kate and Chloe shook hands with Mrs Warner and explained the reason for their visit.
“I did say to get rid of that ghastly thing, Terry.” Mrs Warner pursed her wrinkled lips up in disgust. “I don’t know why you’d even want such a horrible thing on your desk.”
“I know, it’s a bit odd,” said Terence, cheerfully. “I suppose it just makes me laugh. And now apparently scares burglars off.”
Kate, having examined the fake head more closely, dropped it carefully back into the water in the jar – or preserving fluid or whatever it was – and screwed the lid on tight. She handed it back to Terence. “I meant to say you might want to review your security arrangements. “You have a lot of valuable things here, Mr Buchanan. I’m assuming you have insurance?”
“Oh gosh, yes, we’re insured up to our eyeballs, aren’t we, Mother?”
Mrs Warner nodded. “My late husband was quite a collector,” she said by way of explanation.
“Well, you’ve certainly got some lovely pieces here,” said Kate, taking another appreciative look around. She was almost ready to leave but she had to ask the question. “Mrs Warner, Mr Buchanan, can you shed any light on the – on the feet that have recently been found in the area?”
That they knew exactly what she was talking about was obvious. Mrs Warner shook her head, wrinkling up her already wrinkled face. “Oh, goodness me, no. Nothing at all to do with us.”
Kate smiled but directed her question to Terence. “You don’t use anatomical specimens to build your special effects, by any chance, sir?
Terence shook his head, half-smiling. “I see what you’re getting at, DI Redman, but I’m afraid the answer is no. I don’t do much body-work anymore, anyway, to be honest. There’s far more work goes on with CGI now than with actual models.” He gestured to the head in the jar. “This chap’s probably about five years old at least. He was in some god-awful British horror film that sank without trace at the box office.”
“I see. So, you’ve got no, um, teaching aids or curiosities or anything like that? I’m not saying if you have that you planted the feet,” Kate added, quickly, seeing him frown. “But I think you can agree that security in your lovely house is possibly not the best. If you did have something like that here, is it a possibility that a burglar could have taken it?” Into the increasingly chilly silence, she added, “I’m sorry, sir, but I’m just thinking aloud. I don’t mean any offence.”
Terence spread his hands. “None taken, officer, but I’m afraid I really can’t help you. You’re more than welcome to look around but I can assure you that neither Mother or I keep anything like that around here.” He favoured his mother with an affectionate glance. “As you can see, we prefer the slightly more tasteful ornaments.”
“Yes, thank you. I don’t think a formal search will be necessary at the moment, sir.” Kate handed over her card and added her usual caveat of not hesitating to contact her or Chloe if new evidence or anything pertinent came to light. Both Terence and Mrs Warner nodded solemnly.
“Anyway, thank you for your time,” finished Kate. “We’ll see ourselves out. Sorry to have disturbed you.”
They drove back to Abbeyford station in thoughtful silence.
“God, what a
house,” said Chloe, eventually.
“I know. Amazing.” Kate changed gears as she approached a T-junction. “What I wouldn’t give for a place like that.”
“Fat chance on our wages.” Chloe rolled her window down a little.
Kate was thinking. “Do you think we ought to search the place?”
Chloe shrugged. “On what grounds? He has a fake head in a jar, which is a bit odd but not illegal. I can check on his background, see if he really does work in films.”
“Thanks, bird. I’ll talk to Mark, see what he says, but you’re right.” Kate thought back over their meeting with the owners of eighteen, Park Lane. “He offered twice to have us go over the place, I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t have done that if he’d had anything to hide.”
“So, the search for the mysterious foot thief goes on.”
“That it does.” Kate thought, but didn’t add, at least it’s just feet, not a missing girl. Where was Poppy Taige? Come on, Kate, that’s not even your case, it’s not even Abbeyford’s problem. Pushing the thought from her mind, she drove herself and Chloe back to the station, through the warm spring sunshine.
CHAPTER NINE
DS Theo Marsh clicked the mouse on the ‘send’ button on his computer screen and sat back in his chair, rotating his stiff shoulders. Last email for the night, he decided, glancing at the clock. Eight o’clock. He dug his phone from his back pocket and peered at the screen. A message from Nicola, his girlfriend, had popped up. Well, girlfriend... she was almost fourteen years old than he was (and had actually been his former DCI), but they’d been seeing each other for a few months now so... Disappointed, he saw she was working late again tonight. Sorry sweetie, developments in the Taige case so am stuck in the office. I’ll make it up to you, with a winking emoji that made Theo raise his eyebrows in pleasurable anticipation.
Still, that left him with a free evening. Gym? But he’d already been that morning before work. He looked around the office, hoping to persuade one of the others out for a pint. Rav was nowhere to be seen – oh, yeah, Jarina had had the baby hadn’t she? Huh, no fun for Rav for a few months... Theo looked hopefully across at Chloe, tidying up her desk in preparation for her exit.
“Oy, Chloe. Fancy a swift one?”
“Can’t, Theo, mate. I’ve got a date.”
“Oh.” Theo observed Chloe for a moment. “You’re not wearing that, are you?”
“Why not?” Chloe looked down at the tailored black suit that she habitually wore. “They can take me as they find me, Theo.”
“Right.” Theo turned back to his desk, muttering under his breath, “It’s not like you’re going to be in it for long, right?”
“What?”
“Nothing,” said Theo, grinning. “See you later then. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
“That’ll leave me with plenty of scope, then,” said Chloe, patting his shoulder as she walked by. “Good night, me old mucker.”
“Night.” Theo watched as the door shut behind her. Martin Liu, the new constable, was the only one left apart from him in the office. “Martin. Hey, Martin. D’you fancy a pint?”
Martin looked for a second as if he was going to refuse. He glanced down at his hands for some reason and then half-laughed and nodded. “Sure. Might have to be just the one, though.”
We’ll see about that, thought Theo, whose capacity to lead his fellow officers astray, especially on a school night, was legendary. “Come on then, mate. We’ll go to the Arms, you need to know where it is anyway.”
The Arms, as most of the Abbeyford nick referred to it, was a local pub. It served as both an informal office and decompression chamber for the team and Theo was not surprised to see a few of the other officers from the station there when he and Martin pushed open the saloon door.
Two hours and four pints each later (Theo had pushed for a fifth but Martin had stuck to his guns), they left the pub and began the walk back to their respective houses, conveniently located near to each other. They both trudged along through the suburbs, towards the outskirts of Abbeyford, bantering slightly tipsy remarks as they walked along, breath pluming white in the cold air.
“This is stupid, we should have got an Uber, mate,” said Theo eventually. They were just passing a small area of parkland, separated from the pavement by ancient iron railings. In the park, a small children’s playground lay quiet and deserted, the two swings creaking slightly in the wind that was beginning to get up.
Martin shivered. “I think we’re almost at my place anyway. I don’t know this area very well yet. Why don’t you come in for a cuppa?”
A hot drink was sounding increasingly good to Theo. “Yeah, sure.”
“I think—” Martin began before Theo’s arm shot out to quiet him. Without speaking, Theo drew his companion back into the shadow of a tree, staring intently across the dark parkland. Martin obediently fell silent. Copper’s senses, thought Theo, thinking of a conversation he’d had with Kate once. They never let you down. Someone was in that parkland and that someone was up to no good, he could just tell.
The two men waited, watching the darkness.
“What do you reckon?” murmured Martin, close to Theo’s ear.
“Dunno. Drug deal, maybe.” Theo watched as a dark figure crept across the grass of the park, seemingly heading for the children’s playground. He frowned, watching. There was only one person in the park that he could see – he strained his eyes, looking for another, but there was nothing. What the hell was the guy – he assumed it was a guy, he couldn’t actually make out any features – doing? Theo glanced along the railings, looking for a way in. He didn’t fancy vaulting over the high, sharply-tipped railings and impaling himself on the way. With relief, he saw the outline of a gate ten feet or so away, back where they had previously walked.
“Come on,” he said to Martin and began to run, as quietly as he could.
They caught the guy with almost ridiculous ease. He – it was a man – had been placing something on the ground by the children’s slide, concentrating on whatever it was he was putting down. Theo, putting on a last burst of speed, thought for a moment about warning him with a shout and then thought, fuck it, I’ve got him under behaving suspiciously. He barrelled into the back of the crouching dude, who gave a single shout of alarm and toppled over. Then Theo made his profession clear, pinning the guy to the playground floor. It was made of that weird spongy concrete designed to stop little kids breaking their arms when they fell off the climbing frame, Theo thought irrelevantly, and then he and Martin were hauling the man to his feet.
“What – what—” The guy was stuttering like anything, probably terrified out of his wits. That suited Theo. He cautioned him using the drug laws, although he was beginning to wonder if that was really what had been going on.
“What are you up to then, mate? Hanging around a children’s playground at this time of night?”
The man he and Martin held between them looked no older than twenty. He was tall but thin, had a scrub of beard and those tragic ear-stretcher earrings in both ears. Millennial he might be, but Theo had no time for hipster fashion.
“I – I – nothing – I was just—”
“Come on, mate. You’re coming with us to the station.” Theo looked across at Martin, who he saw was looking intently at the ground.
Just then, the moon sailed out from behind the thick blanket of cloud that had covered it so far that evening. White radiance flooded the playing fields and the blackness of the tarmac. Theo heard Martin gasp and looked himself at what his colleague had been staring at. Then, with a muttered aside to Martin – hold him – he reached for his phone and flicked on the torch setting.
“Well, well,” said Theo, regarding the human foot lying on the ground. He looked at the shivering man drooping in Martin’s hands. “Now that is interesting.”
CHAPTER TEN
Kate burst into the office early the next morning, looking wildly around for Theo. He was just packing up his bag, yawning huge
ly.
“Why didn’t you call me? I’ve missed it all.”
“Mate, Mark told me not too. He was going to handle it.”
Baulked, Kate flung her handbag under her desk. “Why?”
Theo yawned again. “I dunno, maybe ‘cos he wanted you to get a decent night’s sleep for once? Besides, he said to go and see him, you can take over. We’ve still got the guy here for another 12 hours.”
Slightly mollified, Kate nodded. “So, he was planting another foot then? Seriously? In a children’s playground?”
“Yeah, I know. Tell me about it, the sick bastard. Anyway, go and see Mark, he’ll bring you up to speed.” Theo slung his leather jacket on and picked up his rucksack. “I’m off home, I’m cream-crackered.”
“See you.” Kate spoke absently. She looped her neck with the lanyard that held her office pass and hurried for the interview rooms.
The suspect and Olbeck were in Room 5, accompanied by a duty solicitor Kate hadn’t seen before, a rather mousy, middle-aged woman with lank brown hair. Kate knocked on the glass panel and raised her eyebrows as Olbeck caught sight of her.
A moment later, he exited the room, shutting the door behind him.
“What’s the story?” asked Kate.
Olbeck smiled. “Good morning to you.” Kate flicked a hand impatiently, smiling back and he went on. “Well, as Theo no doubt told you, we arrested this guy last night in Atherton park. Theo and Martin saw him planting another foot in the playground there.”
“What’s his name?”
“Oliver Neville, apparently. We’ve confirmed that.”
Kate peered through the glass panel. “God, he looks young.”
“He is. He’s only nineteen.”