Speak No Evil: A Midlands Crime Thriller (Detective Sebastian Clifford - Book 2)

by Sally Rigby

  Lacey was a bright child and Birdie’s aunt had been giving her lessons most days. Already she was advanced for her age in both maths and English and Auntie Catherine was convinced someone had taught her before, as she already knew so much. Yet, whoever it was hadn’t made themselves known to the authorities.

  It had been decided by the psychologist, social worker, and Auntie Catherine that Lacey wasn’t ready to go to school and mix with other children. They believed she wouldn’t cope in a normal classroom because she was so reserved and the other children might tease her, and do untold damage. Lacey was well-behaved and her manners were impeccable. Most days she’d sit quietly playing or reading and she was already tackling books that were way beyond her years.

  According to Auntie Catherine, Lacey was too well-behaved for a child of her age, and she’d wondered whether that was through fear of being naughty and what the consequences would be. Birdie shuddered at the thought of someone mistreating the child she’d grown so fond of. If she got her hands on them, she’d … Lacey tugged at her hand, pulling her towards the café where they were going to buy their ice creams, and distracting Birdie from her thoughts.

  They continued down the street when Lacey stopped dead in her tracks, almost causing Birdie to trip right over her.

  ‘What’s wrong, Lacey? Are you okay?’ Birdie crouched down to the child’s level, scanning the area, unable to see anything out of the ordinary.

  Lacey’s eyes were wide, and she was staring at something on the other side of the road a few yards down from where the Old Grammar School was situated. Her entire body shook, and she appeared oblivious to anything else around her. Trickling down her leg was a yellow stream. The poor thing had wet herself.

  Birdie had never known her to do that before.

  What on earth had happened?

  Still at Lacey’s level, Birdie tried to see what the child was fixated on, but there was nothing out of the ordinary. Cars driving past. Cars parked. Families walking. People on their own. No one was staring in their direction. Or acting suspiciously. So what had caused such a reaction?

  Birdie pulled out some tissues from her handbag and wiped Lacey’s legs. All the time the little girl remained still, like a statue, her face pale and expressionless.

  Had she seen someone, or something, related to her past? What else could it be? It wasn’t as if she went out anywhere without Birdie or her aunt. She didn’t know anyone. During the investigation after she’d been abandoned, nobody had come forward claiming they knew her. Or, at least, nobody genuine. There had been the usual time-wasters, or worse, people who wanted a young child for reasons that made Birdie shudder.

  At the last case conference, six months ago, Auntie Catherine had said she wanted to continue fostering Lacey because they’d established a good relationship. They’d established routine that had resulted in the child becoming much securer in her environment than she had been. To uproot the child would have been disastrous. Lacey would never have coped.

  ‘Lacey, tell me what’s wrong?’

  The child didn’t seem to hear her.

  ‘You’re safe now. I’m with you. No one’s going to hurt you.’ She pulled Lacey towards her into a hug. ‘What did you see that upset you?’ she asked softly.

  Lacey went rigid in Birdie’s arms, her breathing shallow and erratic.

  ‘Do you want to go back home?’ Birdie asked, not wanting to push the child for more information, as she was so distraught.

  Lacey turned her head to face Birdie, her eyes glassy with tears. ‘Yes, please,’ she whispered.

  ‘Well, that’s what we’ll do, then. Straight away. Let’s find Auntie Catherine and tell her where we’re going. We’ll take the key from her so she can carry on with her shopping.’

  Birdie turned Lacey around until they were facing the way they’d come and couldn’t see whatever had captured her attention.

  ‘I don’t want to be on my own. Please stay with me,’ the little girl said, squeezing Birdie’s hand even tighter.

  Birdie swallowed hard. That had to be the most Lacey had ever spoken in one go in all the time she’d known her.

  ‘I’ll always be here for you, sweetheart, and will never leave you on your own. Never. Do you understand?’

  ‘Yes,’ she whispered.

  They hurried back to the shop they’d just left and met Auntie Catherine as she was coming out. ‘What’s happened?’ Her brow furrowed as she glanced at Birdie and then down at Lacey, whose green and plaid skirt was wet at the front.

  ‘A minor accident. Nothing to worry about. I’m going to take Lacey home so she can have a wash and change. I’ll stay with her while you carry on with your shopping.’ Over the top of the little girl’s head, so she couldn’t see, Birdie mouthed ‘Something bad’s happened.’

  Her aunt gave a nod to acknowledge she’d understood. ‘Okay, off you both go. Here’s the key.’ She opened her bag and handed it to Birdie. ‘I won’t be long. Make sure to have the kettle on, as I’ll need a strong cuppa when I get back. Why did I chose a Saturday to shop when I can’t stand the crowds? I’ll see you both soon. Next stop is the bakery to buy some jam doughnuts for us all to have later.’

  Her aunt took off down the street, in the opposite direction from where she lived, and the route Birdie and Lacey were going to take.

  ‘Are you okay to walk back?’ Birdie asked Lacey. They could catch the bus. It was only a couple of stops, but she doubted Lacey would want to sit down while wet.

  Lacey nodded. It was only a ten-minute walk to where her aunt lived. Birdie put the key in her pocket and took the little girl’s hand. They headed up High Street, turned right into Bowden Lane, and then left into Burnmill Road.

  The child was silent while they were walking, and Birdie found her mind wandering to her own birth mother. She’d been adopted at six months, and although she loved her parents and brothers and had a great relationship with them all, something inside was pushing her to discover more about her background.

  She’d already started looking but had a setback after applying to put her name on the Adoption Contact Register. She’d been informed her birth mother had requested that she was not to be contacted.

  Why?

  Birdie wanted to know what had caused this response, but the staff at the register were prohibited from telling her anything. They couldn’t even tell her the date her mother had sent in the request.

  She wouldn’t let that stop her from finding out where her mother was, though, even if they never met face to face.

  But for now, Lacey had to be her top priority. Whatever she’d seen, this incident was proof that there was something in the area that was connected to her.

  The police investigation had been put to bed after they’d come to a dead end. They couldn’t find any family members or anyone, in fact, who knew anything about the child. Because they were unable to ID Lacey, it meant they couldn’t locate her dental or doctor’s records. Or any school records. It was as if she hadn’t existed before she was found in the town centre.

  Lacey, being so uncommunicative, hadn’t helped either, but that wasn’t her fault. It was frustrating for Birdie that the investigation had ended, but she understood the reasons. Other, more pressing, cases had demanded their attention. There was only a finite number of hours in the working day, and cases went down in priority after a certain amount of time with no success.

  This incident could be a breakthrough. It had affected Lacey badly. Maybe they should reopen Lacey’s case. Who, or what, had she seen? Was it someone who had harmed her in the past? What sort of treatment had she been subjected to that caused her to be so frightened? Lacey might not have shown signs of any physical abuse, but that didn’t mean she hadn’t been the victim of emotional trauma.

  They owed it to the little girl to find out about her background. Even if she didn’t contact her family again, Birdie hated the thought of Lacey growing up feeling like she did … that there something was missing in her life.

&nb
sp; Chapter 3

  Birdie parked mid-way between two white parking lines in the station car park, but didn’t have time to straighten up. She jumped out of the car, grabbing her jacket and handbag from the passenger seat, and flew into work at a rate of knots. Her hair, which she hadn’t had time to brush and tie back that morning, was flying out in all directions and whipped across her face and into her mouth.

  ‘Morning,’ she shouted to the sergeant on the front desk on her way past.

  ‘One day, Birdie. Just one day, you might make it in on time,’ he called out, laughing.

  ‘Well, you know me. I’m predictable.’

  Which made her seem really boring. Not a look she wanted to cultivate.

  She ran upstairs, taking them two at a time, into the office she shared with the other officers in CID, and plonked herself down on a chair next to her partner, Detective Constable Neil Branch, aka Twiggy. According to the clock on the wall, she’d made it with two minutes to spare before their boss, Sergeant Jack Weston, came in to do the daily briefing. You could set your watch by him, so she knew he wouldn’t be late.

  ‘You cut that a bit fine, didn’t you?’ Twiggy said, grinning in her direction.

  ‘Nothing like stating the obvious, Twig.’

  ‘I’d have put money on us watching Sarge having a go at you for missing the morning briefing again.’

  ‘I don’t miss it that often.’

  ‘Liar. Where were you this morning, anyway? Did you have some early morning rendezvous?’

  ‘I wish. I can’t believe I slept in again. I’d made such a concerted effort to be here early by setting three alarms and putting out my clothes for the day before I went to bed.’ She let out a frustrated sigh.

  ‘I can. Out late last night, were we?’

  Far from it. Birdie’s problem last night was being unable to sleep because of worrying about Lacey and trying to work out how she was going to convince Sarge to let her investigate the case again.

  ‘I had cricket practice and then went for a quiet drink with the team. I had an early night so you can’t blame my social life this time.’

  ‘If you ask me, your track record speaks for itself.’

  ‘Says Mr Perfect.’ She flicked his arm with her fingers. ‘I hope Sarge is in a good mood this morning. I want to speak to him about something important.’

  ‘You’re off to a good start by being here before him. What’s it about?’

  Should she tell him? She might as well. It wasn’t as if he’d make any difference to Sarge’s decision.

  ‘I want him to reopen the case of Lacey, the child who was found twelve months ago in the middle of town. Do you remember her?’

  ‘Yeah. She went to live with your aunt. Is she still there?’

  ‘Yes, and I was out with them both on Saturday when something happened, which sent Lacey into a total state of shock. I couldn’t see what it was, but it was enough to cause her to wet herself.’

  ‘Children often have accidents. Mine did. I wouldn’t worry about it.’

  ‘This was different. It wasn’t a case of her needing to go and not being able to hold it. Something shocked her enough for it to happen. Trust me on this. I know her very well. Normally, she’s quiet and isn’t fazed by what’s happening around her. I don’t want this to set her back, she’s been progressing so well recently.’

  ‘That’s good.’

  ‘Right? And that’s why we should take another look at the case. If only to discover what affected her so badly on Saturday and hope we can prevent it from happening again.’

  ‘Good luck in trying to persuade Sarge to let you investigate. Everyone’s so busy at the moment, what with Rambo still being off with his broken leg.’

  ‘I still can’t believe he broke it so badly from tripping over a tiny toy car.’

  ‘He was too busy chasing the kids doing a runner to notice what was on the path. But at least we arrested the little shits later. It would’ve been even worse if they’d got away with it.’

  ‘When’s he coming back to work?’

  Being such a small team, it only took one of them to be off sick or on leave for it to make a big difference. Sometimes, Sarge would call in officers from other Leicestershire stations to work with them, but for some reason, this time he hadn’t bothered. Either that, or there wasn’t anyone available.

  ‘No idea, but it’s got to be at least a couple more weeks as it’s only been ten days since it happened.’

  ‘Let’s hope Sarge puts him on desk duty. Save us having to take turns answering the phone.’

  ‘But that still keeps him off the streets, and why you’ve got more chance of flying to the moon than getting Sarge to agree to you working on Lacey’s case.’

  ‘I don’t care what you say. I’m still going to ask him.’

  Even though she had more than a sneaking suspicion that her partner was right. It would take a miracle for Sarge to agree.

  ‘Don’t hold your breath, because you know what he’s like. I bet you a sausage roll he says no you can’t do it. In fact, make that two, my tummy’s already rumbling.’ He patted his protruding stomach, which she’d swear was getting rounder by the day.

  ‘Don’t tell me. Evie’s got you on another diet. What is it this time?’

  Ever since Birdie had joined CID a few years ago, Twiggy’s wife had been trying to get him to shed a few pounds. Every time a new diet came out, he was put on it. Not that they ever worked. How could they when he didn’t stick to them. Then again, if he was left to his own devices, he’d be twice the size he was now.

  ‘The Paleo diet, which means eating the food they ate ten thousand years ago. I ask you, do I look like a bloody caveman?’ He groaned.

  ‘If you stuck to it instead of cheating, then she wouldn’t be on your case the whole time. I still don’t get how she doesn’t realise you cheat at work. I’ve seen you creep into the office on your days off to snack.’

  ‘No, I don’t,’ Twiggy protested.

  ‘Yeah, right. And …’ Her attention was distracted by Sarge walking into the room, so she turned to face him.

  ‘Morning, team.’ He scanned the room. ‘Where’s Sparkle?’

  Birdie glanced over at DC Gemma Litton’s desk which was on the other side of the room. She hadn’t even noticed the officer was missing.

  ‘Um …’ Twiggy said.

  The door opened, and the Sparkle flew in. ‘Sorry, Sarge, I got stuck behind a massive lorry this morning.’

  ‘You should’ve left earlier, then. Sit down and let me get on. I haven’t got all day.’

  Birdie forced back a giggle. It made a change for someone else to be on the receiving end of Sarge’s short fuse.

  ‘Yes, Sarge.’

  ‘Tiny. Did anything come in overnight?’ Sarge asked DC Aleki Tuala, whose desk was adjacent to Sparkle’s.

  ‘No, Sarge. It was quiet.’

  ‘Good. That’s what I like to hear on a Monday morning. Twiggy, what are you doing today?’

  ‘Birdie and I are heading out to interview someone who’s come forward about the carjackings. Supposedly they were nearly a victim of one at the weekend.’

  ‘Nearly? What does that mean?’

  ‘That’s what we’ll find out,’ Sarge.’

  ‘Let’s hope they have something we can use. We’re desperate for a break on this case, as the DI keeps reminding me. Sparkle?’

  ‘I’m in court this morning, Sarge, testifying in the factory arson case.’

  ‘We can do without that when we’re a man down. Okay. Tiny, what about you?’

  ‘I’m waiting for forensics to come back on the robbery in The Headlands. I’ll be in and out today.’

  ‘Right. I expect a productive day from all of you. I’ll see you tomorrow morning, if not before. And make sure you’re on time, Sparkle.’ He wagged his finger in her direction.

  ‘It was a one-off, it won’t happen again,’ Sparkle said, her brow furrowed.

  It was mean of Sarge to have a
go at her. She was always on time. Almost always.

  ‘Make sure it doesn’t.’ He gathered his folders from the desk and as he turned to leave, Birdie jumped out of her seat and ran over to him.

  ‘Sarge, hang on a minute. Can I have a word?’

  ‘What about? I’m in a hurry. DI Curtis is due here in half an hour for a meeting and I need to access some performance stats from the system.’

  Curtis was the one person who could turn the tables on Sarge and have him worried. The DI was his boss, and he split his time between the stations at Wigston and Market Harborough. Fortunately for all of them, Wigston was Curtis’s actual base, which meant he spent more time there than at Market Harborough.

  ‘I won’t keep you long, promise. I’d like us to reopen the case of Lacey, the little girl who was found abandoned by the Old Grammar School twelve months ago.’

  He folded his arms across his chest and tapped the floor with his foot.

  ‘As far as my recollection goes, we went as far as we could with the investigation. Why now, suddenly, do you want it revisited?’

  She was losing his attention, fast.

  ‘Lacey’s fostered by my aunt, and I’ve got to know her well over the last year. She’s a lovely little girl and is coming along nicely.’

  Sarge checked his watch. ‘Skip to the important bit, Birdie.’

  ‘Right. Well, we were in town on Saturday, and she witnessed something that sent her into a severe state of shock. I’ve no idea what it was, but she’s never behaved like that before. I reckon it’s related to something that’s happened in her past. I mean, what else could it be?’

  ‘This sounds like a job for a counsellor, and I really need to go.’

  ‘You don’t get what I mean. I want us to look into the case again to see if we can discover anything that might help us identify her? She might need to see someone, but for now we need to know who she is.’

  He frowned. Was that a good sign?

  ‘Birdie, I commend your concern, but we spent enough hours on the case before, with little success. I really can’t see how that’s going to change, or what good it will do for the child if, as you maintain, she’s settled and doing okay.’