by Anna Jacobs
Maybe he should consult his lawyer and find out where he stood.
Maybe he should ask Dee what she wanted before he did anything. Did he dare? What would he do if she said she wanted to go back to her mother?
It’d make for a very miserable Christmas to be without her, and it’d upset Gabby a lot.
Tom’s PI visited him at home one evening to report on his preliminary findings. He arranged it for the night his wife met friends for a meal and natter. He preferred to discuss things in private rather than try to take in sensitive information in a noisy venue like a pub.
He asked Eric to park in the street and not to come in until he’d seen Hilary drive away. He didn’t want his wife to find out what he was doing, because she’d try to stop him helping Claire. She was most definitely on Martin’s side. It was a good thing he’d warned Eric, because she left at the last minute, even later than usual.
Eric didn’t waste time on greetings and refused a drink. ‘Let’s just get on with our information sharing then I’ll leave you in peace. It’s been a long day. First, I’ve traced the house where your daughter-in-law and granddaughter were living, but they’d just moved out, I’m afraid.’
‘Oh, dear. Do any of the neighbours know where they went and why?’
‘There aren’t any neighbours; it’s an area that’s being redeveloped and the other houses have already been knocked down. The house is part of the old industrial estate, really, so I suppose that’s why it wasn’t knocked down with the first batch of old houses. But it was pretty obvious why your daughter-in-law left. There’s a burnt-out car standing on the drive, nicely decorated with police tape, and someone’s thrown a brick through the kitchen window at the rear.’
Tom stared at him in horror and his voice came out croaky. ‘They weren’t hurt, were they?’
‘No.’
‘Do the police have any idea who did it?’
‘No again. There aren’t any gangs known to be operating in that area, for the simple reason there isn’t much left to steal. Even the industrial units are half empty because they’re going to be knocked down and the area redeveloped too.’ He paused and added, ‘But you and I may be able to suspect who did it.’
Tom knew, he just knew it was Martin, so all he could do was nod.
‘You’ll be shocked to see what a poor state their house is in. I was surprised anyone had been allowed to live there at all. See for yourself.’ He held out his phone, heard the gasp that greeted the photos. ‘Look at the next one. It’s the remains of their car, which is owned by someone called Pam Dixon, apparently.’
‘She’s a friend of Claire’s, if I remember correctly. Not that they saw much of one another after the marriage. The divorce wrangling made me realise how Martin had gradually stopped his wife from associating with her former friends. Claire fled to Pam’s house when she first left my son, I gather from what he’s said since and what he threatened to do to both of them one night when he must have been drinking, he was speaking so wildly.’
The PI stared at him. ‘You said they fled. That’s a strong word to use. Why didn’t you tell me things were that bad when we first spoke? And what exactly has he been threatening to do to them?’
Tom stared at the floor, shaking his head, feeling embarrassed. ‘I was ashamed to use that word. Unfortunately it’s very accurate. My granddaughter gave the game away when she told me how they had to creep out of their home with only the clothes they could carry, then take a taxi to Pam’s place.’
‘Didn’t they have a car?’
‘Apparently Martin kept both cars in his own name.’
‘Does he often threaten to hurt people?’
‘Um, sometimes. But he hasn’t done it to my knowledge. I thought it was, you know, just spoken in anger. But if he set that car alight …’
‘It’s a criminal act. And actually, it’s not normal behaviour to make such threats, whether they’re carried out or not. Nor is it normal to treat a wife like that. And what exactly did he threaten the night he was drunk?’
‘To get rid of Claire permanently and raise his daughter on his own somewhere far away from bad influences. And …’
‘Go on.’
‘To make Pam sorry she ever crossed his path.’
As Eric opened his mouth, Tom held up one hand in a stop gesture. ‘You don’t need to tell me that this isn’t normal. I’ve been looking it up online recently, reading about it, trying to understand my son’s behaviour. And I know the way things are getting worse isn’t a good sign.’ To his dismay, his voice wobbled and he had to stop speaking and pull himself together.
His companion gave him a sympathetic look. ‘Hard to face in your own family, I should think.’
‘Yes. Very hard. Even now, my wife won’t admit to anything but minor faults in Martin. He could be a bit kinder. He’s only trying to look after his daughter. I don’t know how to make her face what he’s turned into. I’m hoping what you discover will help me do that. And though he definitely needs professional help, he’d fly off the handle and storm out if I even hinted at it.’
‘If he’s the one who set their car on fire, he needs help rather urgently now, I should think, whether he wants it or not. We don’t want him to move on to violent acts towards his wife, do we? These damaged people can be very unpredictable.’
Tom closed his eyes for a moment, trying to find a reason for hoping it wasn’t Martin who’d set fire to Claire’s car. No, he mustn’t fool himself. Who else could it be? He had to accept that, had to face up to it.
So he said it aloud. ‘Yes. You’re right. It can only have been Martin. Look, will you carry on with this, Eric, and try to find out what’s happened to them? They might need help, or money, or protection. Whatever else we do or don’t do about Martin, we have to keep them safe.’
‘Doesn’t Claire have any family to turn to?’
‘There’s her mother, but she’s remarried and when I contacted her recently, she said she doesn’t know where they are either, though she at least has their email address. She won’t give me it, though. The most she’d agree to was to pass on a message from me.’ He paused, then repeated his plea. ‘You will carry on with this?’
‘Yes, definitely. I think this is a worthwhile case, one where I can make a difference.’ Eric stood up. ‘I’ll get back to you in a day or two, probably by phone or email. This first time I wanted to see with my own eyes how you took the bad news. Some parents never do face up to what their children have turned into as adults, and I’ve learnt not to waste my time on them when I can be helping someone who will co-operate.’
He paused on his way out to put his hand on Tom’s shoulder and ask sympathetically, ‘You going to be all right?’
‘I have to be, only I can’t help wondering what I did wrong as a father,’ Tom admitted.
‘I’d say probably nothing, now that I’ve got to know you a bit better. You seem sane enough to me, and I’m a pretty good judge of character. If it’s not their upbringing that’s warped them – though that does happen – I think it can be hard-wired into some people to turn violent, or else they’ve developed abnormal behaviour because of chemical imbalances, often caused by taking drugs, or it can even be the result of accidents or events causing physical and mental damage.’
He gave a little shrug as Tom opened the front door and added, ‘I try to keep up with research but medical science is still struggling to find the best ways to deal with many mental health problems. One day they’ll have a much better idea of how to treat these damaged people.’
Tom nodded. ‘One hopes so. In the meantime I’m truly grateful for your help. Don’t forget to send your bill.’
‘I will once I’ve really achieved something.’
When his visitor had driven away, Tom went back into the house and sat for a long time worrying. ‘These damaged people,’ Eric had said. What could have damaged his son? Was there any hope of helping him?
Hilary wasn’t due back for another hour and he wondered ye
t again whether to say anything to her about this. If he did, would she believe that Martin could be responsible for a burnt-out car or that Claire had needed to flee from him more than once?
Probably not.
So he’d better wait a little longer to tell her. He’d need proof, overwhelming proof that she couldn’t dismiss.
Chapter Twelve
On the Saturday morning Bill was in his workshop repairing an old fridge. He’d picked it up on the street verge for nothing, after checking it out and realising how little was wrong with it. He’d sell it later at a knock-down price and still make a good profit.
When a man came to the entrance to his unit and called out, he stood up and moved forward, easing his shoulders, thinking it was a customer.
Instead the man showed him some ID stating that he was a licensed private investigator. ‘I wonder if you could spare me a few minutes?’
‘What for?’ Bill glanced impatiently back at the fridge.
‘I’m working for a client, trying to trace the woman and child who lived over there at the house with the burnt-out car in the drive. Shocking thing to see, that.’
Bill was surprised and a bit suspicious. In all the months the woman and child had been living there, no one had visited them that he’d seen. ‘Who wants to find them, then?’
‘Her family. They’re worried about her safety.’
‘So they should be, letting her live in that dump for months. It’s not safe round here at night unless you’ve got a good, monitored security system. I’ve had things nicked in broad daylight, with me working at the back, even. I’d not like one of my female relatives to live over there on her own, let alone a young child.’
‘I agree. She should be at home with her family. Did you see her come back after the accident to the car?’
‘That wasn’t an accident, that was deliberate vandalism.’
‘Well then, things are even worse, if you’re right. Did you see her come back?’
Bill shrugged. ‘Might have.’
The man suddenly looked angry, more angry than you’d expect from a PI investigating a case.
‘What the hell does that mean? She may be in danger and if you’re not telling me something, when you could have helped me find her, you may live to hear bad news and then you’ll bear the guilt of that.’
Bill was beginning to dislike the fellow, whose smile was glassy and as false as he’d ever seen. If he was a PI, you’d have expected him to stay calm, surely, so that he could weigh the facts. Only, if he had police ID, surely he must be legit? ‘There’s nothing to tell. I don’t know where they went, and I only ever spoke to them once in all the months they’ve been living over there, because they kept themselves to themselves.’
‘But you noticed them come back this time?’
‘I keep my eye on everything that’s going on round here and the torched car made me more watchful than usual. Besides, the police wanted to get in touch with them, so I was passing on a message.’
‘The police? Just for a burnt-out car?’
‘And the damage to the house. Threw a brick through the window, them sods did, afterwards. I tell you, this area is going downhill fast and I’m moving out myself in a couple of weeks to somewhere safer and busier.’
‘What exactly did you notice about them? How did they get back here without their car? For heaven’s sake, man, give me a bit of help. I’m trying to keep a little girl safe.’
‘Well … a guy drove them home.’
‘Can you remember anything about him? What sort of car was he driving, for instance?’
‘He was driving a transit van with a logo on it.’
‘What logo?’
‘It belonged to that company that does conservatories. Can’t remember their name, but a neighbour of mine had one built by them. Really good job they did for him.’
‘What’s the name of the company?’
Bill could see the van in his mind but not the name on it. ‘I can’t remember. Didn’t notice that. Sorry.’
‘Describe the logo, then.’
‘It looks like a rough sketch of a conservatory, grey on the white of the van.’
‘Is that all you remember?’
His voice was harsh and he didn’t seem at all grateful for the help. Bill scowled at him, regretting now that he’d shared any information about that poor woman. ‘Yes, that’s all. I’ve got to get back to work now.’
He watched the man walk away without even a thank you. That seemed strange and his suspicion about the fellow deepened. Where was his car? How could he have got here without one? There was no public transport in the area now.
And Bill suddenly realised another thing: how did the man know the woman had been away from home when the car was torched?
Feeling worried that this chap might have some connection with whoever torched the car, whatever the ID seemed to say about him, Bill ran back into his unit. After locking it up, he drove off in the direction the man had taken, pulling his cap right down to hide his face.
There was only one road still usable, so he had no trouble finding the so-called PI, who was striding along. He overtook him near the far side of the group of industrial units, driving straight past and turning off the road to park behind one of the new houses that were half built. He cut the engine and slid down in the seat to watch where the fellow went.
The man seemed lost in thought and didn’t notice Bill. When he stopped, he looked round as if to check there was no one nearby to see him, then quickly got into a big car parked behind a group of tradespeople’s vehicles. It was as if he didn’t want to be connected to the car.
Bill wondered if he was being foolish and the guy really was trying to help that poor woman, but hey, it wouldn’t hurt to get a photo of that car’s licence plate, just in case. He quickly did that, then slid down in his seat again before the man drove away.
Should he follow? No. He had work to do. But he couldn’t help wondering why the fellow hadn’t wanted to be seen after asking questions openly about the woman and child. None of this seemed to make sense and Bill was feeling uneasy about what he’d told him, wished he’d said nothing about the logo.
Should he go to the police? No, there was nothing definite to tell them. There had been ID shown to him, after all, and it had looked legit.
But at least if anyone ever came around asking questions, he’d be able to give them the number plate information which would lead them to the man.
No, nobody would come asking. There hadn’t been a sign of the police since the car got burnt. It was only a minor incident to them. He was worrying about nothing. He’d been watching too many crime shows on TV.
He continued to work on the fridge, but he still couldn’t get the incident out of his mind, couldn’t stop worrying about the woman and child, hoping they were safe.
Ah, he’d be glad to get out of this place, damned glad. It was making him paranoid about security. And he wasn’t alone in that. The other people who were still working here said the same thing, especially since the car had been set alight.
They were all being doubly careful, watching out for one another. It was bringing out the best in his neighbours. Must have been like that during the war – for decent folk, anyway.
Eh, that PI had left a bad taste in his mouth, he couldn’t work out why. He might ask the others what they thought about it on Monday, particularly whether he should go to the police about his visitor or not. Always good to get a second opinion when you weren’t sure what to do.
When he’d finished the job he’d been working on, Bill hesitated then phoned his best mate and asked him if he fancied a drink.
‘Bit early for you, isn’t it?’
‘I’ve got something on my mind. Wouldn’t mind asking what you think. Just a half.’
‘OK. Usual place?’
‘Where else?’
At the pub they discussed what had happened and his friend sat frowning, then said, ‘I think you should have gone to the police.’
‘I couldn’t decide.’
‘Do it. Burning that woman’s car is really bad news.’ He drained his beer. ‘Come on. We’ll do it now.’
The policeman at the counter took notes, frowned and said, ‘You’re sure about the car number plate?’
Bill pulled out his mobile phone and showed him.
‘Can I download that?’
It all took longer than Bill had expected, but he felt better for doing it. Even if they didn’t catch that guy, he’d done his best, hadn’t he?
You had to feel comfortable inside your own head.
He clapped his friend on the back. ‘Thanks. I’ll shout you a drink next time.’
On the Sunday, Luke insisted on them all going to an outlet centre to buy some Christmas decorations, but Claire was reluctant to take another day off working, reluctant also to go to such a crowded place.
‘I really should be getting on with my next job. The offers slow down for a while after Christmas so I need to do every job I can now.’
‘It’s still the weekend. Don’t you ever take a day off?’
‘Not often, no. And I’ve had a couple of days off because of my shoulder.’
‘Well, do it this once for me. I want to decorate the house properly, make it seem like Christmas for Dee – and for your delightful daughter. Aw, come on. We’re not likely to bump into your ex at that shopping centre. He lives two hours away, you said. The outing will only take an hour or two.’ He paused, then added slyly, ‘If you come with us, Dee will let herself enjoy it. Please.’
‘Don’t you have any Christmas decorations at all?’
‘No. I thought I had but I haven’t. Angie took the good stuff with her when we split up and I have a vague memory of throwing the rest away the first Christmas that I was on my own. I’ve not bothered with decorations since. It didn’t seem worth it when there was just me.’