Clare rose to meet them. ‘Come in, girls. Nothing to worry about.’
Ebony, unlike her name, had an unruly mane of Titian curls and a face full of freckles. She seemed more confident than Rachel, who hung back, twisting a strand of blonde hair in her fingers. Clare pulled out two seats. Ebony sat, then motioned with her head to Rachel who came slowly forward and perched on the edge of the other seat, smoothing her pinafore down over her legs.
Clare smiled at the pair. ‘We won’t keep you long. I’d just like a bit of background on your classmate – Yvette, wasn’t it?’
Ebony and Rachel exchanged glances.
Then Ebony said, ‘But we told all this to the other policemen.’
Clare spread her hands. ‘I know. Just one of those things. And I’d rather hear it from you girls. I gather you were Yvette’s closest friends?’
Rachel bit her lip. ‘We really miss her.’
‘Tell me what happened. Yvette had taken some drugs, yeah?’
The girls nodded.
‘Some pills she had. She showed us,’ Rachel said.
‘They were really pretty,’ Ebony added. ‘Little pink ones.’
‘Did she offer them to you?’
The girls glanced at each other again but didn’t speak.
‘It doesn’t matter to us if she did,’ Clare said. ‘We’re more concerned with what happened to Yvette and who gave her the drugs.’
Rachel nudged Ebony, who took the cue. ‘She said she got them in town. But she wouldn’t tell us where.’
‘Did she tell you when she bought them?’ Chris asked.
Ebony shook her head. ‘No, but I think it was maybe the Wednesday before – in the afternoon.’
Chris said, ‘That’s really helpful, Ebony. What makes you think it was Wednesday?’
Ebony smiled at Chris and sat back, crossing her legs. ‘We have games on a Wednesday afternoon. Only, Yvette said she had a stomach ache and Miss Samson – she’s the games mistress – she said Yvette could go and get changed and sit quietly in the changing room. But I saw her…’
Chris sat forward in his seat. Clare decided it was sometimes useful to have a young, good-looking male colleague.
‘Go on,’ he said.
Ebony had relaxed now and was clearly enjoying the attention. ‘She winked at me, as she went away, you see. And when she was out of Miss Samson’s view, I saw her heading for the main gate.’
‘So she went home early?’ Clare asked.
‘Home, or to town.’
‘What makes you think she was going to town?’ Chris said.
‘Next day, she showed us the pills. So she must have gone into town to get them, don’t you think?’
Clare didn’t answer this. ‘And do you know when she took them?’
‘She said she was saving them for Saturday night, didn’t she, Rach?’
Rachel nodded. ‘She was going to a party. Said we could come too if we wanted.’
‘And did you go?’
The girls shook their heads.
‘Rach was going away with her mum and dad for the weekend and I had cousins come to visit,’ Ebony told them. ‘We went ice skating in Dundee. Then, next day, we heard…’
‘About Yvette?’
The girls nodded.
‘It was all over Facebook,’ Ebony said.
‘So you think she went to the party, took the drugs there, then collapsed?’
More nodding.
‘Obviously, if we’d known…’ Rachel began.
‘Girls, has anyone at school ever offered you drugs?’ asked Chris. ‘Any of the staff?’
Rachel stared.
‘No way,’ Ebony said. ‘They’re dead strict here.’
‘What about other pupils?’ Chris asked.
The girls looked at each other.
‘Not me,’ Ebony said. ‘Rach?’
Rachel shook her head.
Clare looked at Chris. There was nothing here. ‘Okay, girls, thanks for your time.’
Ebony eyed Chris and parted her lips. ‘Don’t suppose we could stay a bit longer? Ten more minutes and our class will be finished. It’s hardly worth going back…’
‘Beat it!’ he said, laughing. ‘Or your headmistress will be chasing me.’
‘Not if we get you first, eh Rach?’ Ebony said, elbowing Rachel, and they left the room, giggling.
They sat for a minute, after the girls had left. Then Chris broke the silence. ‘What do you reckon? Coincidence?’
‘Yvette being a pupil at the same school Kevin Mitchell works at? Yes, I think it probably is. Odd though.’
Chris rose from his seat. ‘Not really. St Andrews isn’t a huge town. We’re bound to come up against this kind of thing, now and then.’
Clare followed him to the door, lost in thought. ‘Suppose.’
Chris said, ‘Want to see the head gardener?’
‘Nah. We have his statement and the info about Kevin’s car. Let’s get back.’
As they walked along the wood-lined corridors back to the reception area, Clare said, ‘Do me a favour, Chris – when you have a minute could you check the tox report on Yvette, please?’
‘Sure. Any reason?’
‘Just curious.’
They walked past the reception desk and pushed open the front door, emerging into the fresh air. The sun was out and Clare was suddenly glad to be out of the rarefied atmosphere of Melville College. She threw the car keys to Chris. ‘You can drive us back. Just for a treat.’
Chapter 16
The press were camped outside the station when Clare and Chris arrived back.
‘Any news following the press conference, Inspector?’ one of them called.
‘How long before Abi’s life is in danger?’ another asked.
‘What are you doing to find her?’ a third called out.
They squeezed past the pack, Clare saying something noncommittal about a statement in due course.
In the main office, Tony was speaking to Bill and Janey.
‘Any news?’ Clare asked.
Janey shook her head. ‘The Dundee lads haven’t seen Paul Sinclair for a good few months.’
‘He’s not on licence any more,’ Bill added. ‘Rumour is he’s moved to Glasgow, but he’s not been seen there either.’
‘Dammit.’ She stood thinking for a moment, the words of the reporter ringing in her head.
How long before Abi’s life is in danger?
How long, indeed. She thought momentarily of Abi’s face in those photos. It was more than forty-eight hours now since she had been taken from her pram. Was she slipping into a coma now, as the doctor had warned? Or was she being cared for by whoever had stolen the digoxin? Clare found there was a lump in her throat making it difficult to swallow. Her mouth was bone dry.
She glanced at Tony, hoping he’d forgotten their earlier exchange about the Mistrys. ‘We can’t wait any longer. We have to find Abi and we need to find her fast. I’ll call the press office now. Get his name and a proper photo out there, okay?’
Tony appeared distracted. ‘Yeah, okay. Keep me informed.’ And he turned and walked back into Clare’s office, closing the door behind him. Clare stared at the door for a moment, then went to make the phone call.
‘I reckon he’s working on his application for the Super’s post,’ she told Chris when she came off the phone from the press office. ‘Given we have a missing baby on our hands, he seemed pretty uninterested.’
‘Short attention span,’ Chris said.
‘You okay with him being here?’
‘Yeah, I suppose. I mean, me and Emily – him and Emily – well, it’s all in the past now.’
‘And you have Sara?’
A smile spread across Chris’s face. ‘Yeah, I have Sara.’
In her pocket, Clare felt her phone buzz. Her own mobile. She took it out and looked at the display. Her sister. It wasn’t like her to call when she knew Clare was working. She swiped to answer the call. ‘Hi Jude. How’s things?’
Her
sister sounded distracted, as if she hadn’t expected Clare to answer so quickly. ‘Oh, Clare, hi. Sorry to call. You’re busy, I expect. That poor baby…’
Clare was about to agree but something in her sister’s voice stopped her. ‘Never too busy for my wee sister. Are you okay, Jude?’
‘Yes, I’m fine thanks.’
‘And Mum and Dad?’
‘Oh yes. Busy as ever. Still going to their lunch club and that sort of thing. Just had their flu jabs too…’
‘Jude, are you sure you’re okay?’
‘It’s just that…’
‘Is James okay? There’s nothing wrong with him?’
‘He’s fine, really. I’ve had the health visitor here this morning – for his assessment, you know.’
‘Is he not doing what he should? What do they call it – reaching his milestones?’
‘Oh no,’ Jude said quickly. ‘He’s doing everything he should. More, in fact.’
‘That’s my nephew,’ Clare said, smiling. ‘I must come and visit soon.’
‘But she said…’ Jude broke off again.
‘What? What did she say?’
‘He doesn’t make eye contact. Won’t look at her.’
‘He doesn’t know her.’
‘She said most toddlers, by this stage, they respond when you play with them, talk to them. James doesn’t really do that. She said it was as if she wasn’t there.’
Clare was at a loss. ‘Jude, are you sure she’s not just—’
‘She gave him some bricks to check his motor control. He was supposed to stack them, one on top of the other.’
‘But they all develop at their own speed, Jude. Godsake – I was as clumsy as hell, remember? The number of times I fell off my bike.’
‘Oh no, Clare. He stacked them no problem. But then…’
Clare waited.
‘…he began to arrange them – by himself. First, he grouped them by colours – all the blues, all the reds.’
‘I told you he was clever.’
Jude carried on as if Clare hadn’t spoken. ‘And then he grouped them again by shape – all the cubes, then the cylinders…’
‘So he’s a bit brighter than average. I’m not surprised, Jude. You and Frank are both bright sparks. And you read to him all the time. It’s not like you stick him in front of the telly.’
‘Clare,’ Jude interrupted, a note of exasperation creeping into her voice. ‘She said that kind of sorting wasn’t just way above his stage. It’s not the kind of thing children of his age even think of.’
Clare waited.
‘Oh Clare.’ Jude’s voice cracked. ‘She thinks James is autistic.’
Chapter 17
The afternoon wore on, a succession of phone calls following the press conference. The Dundee uniforms were chasing up reports of Paul Sinclair in the north of the city, mostly in the same housing scheme as Susan Clancy’s flat.
‘It can’t be a coincidence,’ Chris said. ‘Susan, the pharmacy and Paul Sinclair all in the same estate.’
‘It might be,’ Clare said. ‘It’s a huge estate with a long-standing drug problem.’
‘Suppose. Tell you something else, though, Clare…’
Clare was scrolling down a computer screen full of possible sightings of Paul Sinclair. ‘Mm-hm?’
‘Those girls at the school. Did you notice their skin?’
‘Not really. Typical spotty teens, I suppose.’
‘Not that. The colour of their skin. Like they’d been to the tanning salon.’
‘They’re too young, surely,’ Clare said.
‘Not necessarily. Sunbed – yes. But there’s no minimum for spray tans. Most salons would expect an adult to accompany a sixteen-year-old but not always. Was the salon busy when you were there?’
Clare shook her head. ‘Not really.’
‘And the owner – Sacha is it? Did she seem like the kind of person who might not always ask for proof of age? Those girls could easily pass for eighteen. You know they could.’
Clare considered this. ‘You’re thinking there’s some connection between Yvette and the tanning salon?’
Chris shrugged. ‘I don’t know. I mean maybe we should get the drugs cops to check it out.’
‘Yeah, and wait till Christmas when they can spare someone.’ She clicked to lock her computer. ‘It’ll be quicker if we go ourselves. Grab a photo of Yvette. It’s time to pay Bronzalite another visit.’
* * *
Sacha didn’t hide her dismay at the sight of Clare and Chris. She indicated a couple of customers waiting at the counter. ‘I’m pretty busy, if you don’t mind.’
‘If we could just see your appointment book,’ Clare said.
Sacha looked at them for a minute as though weighing up whether to object, then said, ‘Oh, what the hell. Here!’ She shoved a black desk diary at them and went to deal with her customers.
Chris flicked back through the pages. ‘So you went off to France on the Friday. It must have been the Wednesday before that. Let’s have a look.’
They scanned the pages, flicking back and forward.
‘Nothing for Yvette,’ Chris said.
‘Found what you’re looking for?’ Sacha said over Clare’s shoulder.
Clare held up the photo of Yvette. ‘Recognise this girl?’
‘Yeah, that’s the girl that died, isn’t it?’
‘Was she a customer?’
Sacha turned the desk diary round so she could read it and began leafing through pages. ‘She was, but I didn’t recognise her at first. From the paper, I mean. She called herself something different.’ She continued flicking back and forth until she stopped. ‘Here you are – Evie Jack. She was in for a session on the Sunday. Before she was found, I mean.’
Clare took out her phone and snapped a photograph of the diary entry. ‘You know she was just sixteen, right?’
Sacha shrugged. ‘That’s not what her ID said.’
Clare raised an eyebrow.
‘Look, Inspector, you should know how easy it is for kids to get a fake ID these days. And there’s no way we can check them all out.’
Clare tapped the appointment book with a finger. ‘You’re not exactly snowed under.’
Sacha folded her arms. ‘Like I said. Her ID showed she was eighteen.’
Clare decided there was little to be gained from pressing the point. She needed Sacha onside. She smiled at her. ‘Sorry – I do know it’s difficult. You can’t always be sure.’
Sacha shrugged but said nothing more.
Clare went on. ‘Was she a regular customer? Evie, I mean?’
‘I’d have to look back. I wasn’t always here when she came in. Does it matter?’
‘Probably not.’
‘Do the names Ebony and Rachel ring a bell?’ Chris asked.
Sacha spread her hands. ‘Honestly, I’ve no idea. I’d have to look. Why do you want to know?’
Chris shook his head. ‘Doesn’t matter. Thanks for your time.’
Outside, they walked towards the harbour and stood looking at the boats bobbing on their moorings. There was a small queue at the Harbour Cafe now, and Clare thought longingly of her bacon roll. ‘Nice food there,’ she said, nodding towards it.
‘I’m pretty hungry.’
A bitter wind was blowing across the harbour, causing the boats to creak as they tugged at the strong ropes tethering them to the wall. The sun was low now and the mercury falling.
Clare looked at the queue. ‘Another time. Come on – let’s get back.’
They turned away from the harbour and headed back to the car.
‘What do you think, then?’ Chris said, as they walked.
‘About Bronzalite? Well, I reckon Yvette was probably a regular but she’s certainly not in the book for a tan that Wednesday. I can’t see anything connecting the salon to the drugs she took. My guess is she slipped away from school that afternoon and went to meet a lad. Boyfriend, or a dealer, even. Could be anywhere in the town.’
&
nbsp; They reached the car. ‘Come on,’ Clare said. ‘We can flag this up to the drug squad. Meantime, we’ve a baby to find.’
* * *
The office was a hive of activity when they returned. ‘Dundee lads chasing up three positive sightings of Paul Sinclair,’ Sara told Clare. ‘The lab have confirmed his DNA on the bike so if we find him…’
‘Good stuff. Anything more following the press conference?’
‘Calls still coming in. Lots of people reporting babies they hadn’t heard before.’
‘They all have to be checked,’ Clare said.
‘Any chance of a few more bodies?’
‘I’ll see what I can do.’
Tony was poring over a sheaf of papers when Clare entered her office. He looked up. ‘Any progress?’
‘Not much. A few sightings of Paul Sinclair in Dundee. Following those up now. Baby reports, too, but all legit so far. We’re a bit pushed, actually…’
‘Aren’t we all, Clare?’
‘Don’t suppose you could rustle up a few more bodies?’
‘Doubtful.’
‘It is a baby we’re talking about, Tony. One with a life-threatening heart condition.’
Tony sighed and pushed his papers to one side. ‘I’ll see what I can do, but we’ve already drafted in every available cop.’
‘If you could try…’
‘No promises.’
‘Thanks. I appreciate it.’
He studied her for a moment, then said, ‘Sit.’
Clare looked at him. ‘Why?’
‘Just sit, for God’s sake.’
She pulled out a chair and sank down in it, wondering what he was playing at. ‘What’s up?’ she asked, when he didn’t speak.
‘You look done in,’ he said.
‘Well thank you very much! You’re not looking so hot yourself.’
‘I’m serious, Clare. Since Sunday you’ve been running this investigation, single-handed, and I’ve not exactly been a help. I’ve been…’ He indicated the papers in front of him. ‘Well, I’ve been distracted.’
‘It’s fine, Tony. We’re managing. A few extra bodies would help though, and now we’ve gone public on Paul Sinclair, it should only be a matter of time—’
He cut across her. ‘Take the night off.’
In Plain Sight Page 14