by Sally Rigby
A woman in her forties, with short blonde hair, dressed in jeans and a pink V-necked jumper, answered the door.
‘Mrs Weatherall?’ Birdie asked.
‘Yes.’
‘I’m Lucinda Bird, we spoke on the phone earlier, and this is Sebastian Clifford who’s assisting me with our enquiries.’
‘Ruby’s just got back from school. She panicked when I said you were coming to see her, but when I told her she wasn’t in any trouble, she calmed down. That’s right, isn’t it? She’s done nothing wrong, has she?’ The woman pressed her lips together.
‘She’s absolutely not in trouble. We’d like her help, that’s all,’ Birdie said, hoping to reassure her.
‘Good. Come in and we’ll sit in the lounge. Ruby asked if I was allowed to stay with her while she’s being interviewed. Is that okay?’
‘Of course, it is. We expected that you would want to. This is all very informal,’ Birdie said, smiling.
They walked through the tiny square entrance which had coats hanging on pegs and went directly into a large open-plan lounge with stairs leading up from it, and a dining area at the end with a chrome and glass circular table. The rest of the furnishings were modern and there was a massive telly on the wall, blaring away. Birdie could hardly take her eyes off it. She’d seen them that big in the department stores but had never come across anyone who owned one. It was possible to see every single blemish on the skin of the chat show host.
‘Take a seat and I’ll get Ruby. She’s in her bedroom.’
They sat on one of the oatmeal-coloured sofas while Mrs Weatherall jogged up the stairs. Birdie could hear her tapping on a door and calling her daughter.
She turned back to look at the telly until Mrs Weatherall and Ruby joined them in the lounge. Ruby was still wearing her school uniform.
Birdie and Seb stood to greet her.
‘Hello, Ruby. I’m Lucinda Bird and this is Sebastian Clifford, we’d like to have a quick word with you about the time the little girl was found in High Street, when you were on work experience at Crystal Haven in town.’
‘Yeah, Mum told me.’ She plonked herself down on the other sofa, and tucked her feet under her, not appearing at all fazed by them being there, which was different from the impression her mother had given them.
‘Please will you turn off the television, Mrs Weatherall,’ Seb asked.
‘Oh. Sorry. Yes. I don’t usually have it on during the day. But I wanted to see an interview with—’
‘Mum,’ Ruby said, glaring at her.
‘Sorry.’ She picked up the remote and turned the telly off.
‘Ruby, I’d like you to go through exactly what you saw on that day,’ Seb said.
‘I didn’t see the little girl because it’s hard from the angle of the shop. But when I was doing some of the window display for Mrs Green, I noticed the same car kept driving past.’
Birdie exchanged a glance with Seb. This could be exactly the lead they were waiting for.
‘Can you describe the car?’
‘It was silver and not very big.’ She hesitated. ‘About the same size as our car, I think.’
‘Do you mean my car, or your dad’s?’ Mrs Weatherall asked.
‘Yours.’
‘I’ve got a red Toyota Corolla, it’s out the front.’
‘I saw it when we arrived. Do you think it was actually the same make, Ruby?’ Birdie asked.
The young girl wrinkled her nose. ‘I’m not sure. I don’t know much about cars.’
‘That’s okay. Do you remember what time you saw the car going past?’
‘Not really. But it was definitely before the police arrived because I remember them stopping outside the shop with their lights flashing.’
‘How many times did this car drive past?’
‘Three. But it could’ve been more. I remember seeing it once. Then when I saw it again, I thought, oh, they just went past. And then it went past again.’
‘Could you see who was driving?’
‘No, it wasn’t that close or going that slow.’
‘Did you notice how many people were in the car?’
‘Not really. I think maybe one, but I can’t be sure. And I don’t know whether it was a man or a woman. The first time I noticed it again it was a glance. And when I saw it a third time I remember thinking it was weird but didn’t have time to look at the driver properly.’
‘Do you remember the exact time this all happened?’
‘Maybe about a quarter to nine. It was before we opened the shop. Mrs Green had told me to do the window display before then. So that’s a definite. Yep.’
‘Do you remember how much time elapsed between each of your sightings?’
‘Um … maybe five minutes. I’m not sure. Not very long.’
‘Do you think the driver could’ve been looking for a parking space and that’s why you saw them several times?’ Seb asked.
‘Ohhh. Yes. That could have been it. It didn’t enter my head at the time.’ She glanced at her mother and pulled a face. ‘Sorry.’
‘No need to apologise. Did you tell the police everything you’d seen?’ Birdie asked.
‘Nope. I wasn’t there when they came in. I only worked part of the morning to make up my work experience hours because I’d been off during the week to go to the doctor. I left at eleven and didn’t go back again because it was all finished. We only had to do a week.’
‘Did you follow the story in the news?’
‘I don’t watch it.’
‘I can never get her off her phone, that’s why,’ Mrs Weatherall said.
‘Did you discuss it with Ruby?’ Birdie asked, turning to face the girl’s mother.
‘I don’t remember. If she’d have told me about the car, I might have contacted the police. But if it was someone looking for a parking space … you know … it wouldn’t have seemed important.’ The woman blushed. ‘I didn’t think. I’m sorry.’
‘Me, too,’ Ruby said.
‘Neither of you did anything wrong. It was down to the police to find out who was in the shop at the time. It’s not your fault at all. We can look into it now. I’m assuming that you didn’t take a note of the number plate, Ruby?’
‘No. I didn’t see it.’
Birdie stood, and Seb did the same. ‘Thank you for your time, Ruby, you’ve been very helpful. We may wish to speak to you again in the future. We’ll call your mum if we do.’
‘Okay.’
‘This is so frustrating,’ Birdie said when they’d got outside. ‘If which ever officer went into Crystal Haven hadn’t been called away, we’d have known all about this.’
‘We know now, and there’s no point in going over what might have happened.’
‘You’re right. And at least it’s given us something to work with. I’m going back for the CCTV footage to check for this car and find out what the driver was doing.’
‘Okay. I’m going back to East Farndon. Elsa will wonder where I’ve got to. I’ll see you Friday evening. Dinner at seven-thirty.’
‘Enjoy your time in London.’
‘Thanks, but it’s not my idea of fun having to dress up in black tie.’
‘I’ve already offered to go with you. Maybe I should go in your place.’
‘You know the answer to that.’
Chapter 18
Birdie parked in a side street and not the station car park, in case Sarge drove past after he’d been to the dentist and spotted her car. She’d assumed he wouldn’t be coming back to work after, but with him anything was possible.
Or was she being paranoid? Maybe, but she’d come up against him so many times it was better to be safe than sorry.
When she reached the office, there was no one around, which surprised her as Twiggy had mentioned tackling his mountain of admin during the day. Though, knowing him, he’d got fed up with it and wandered into town to the bakery to pick up a snack or three.
She strolled over to the desk, hung her jacket and handbag on
the back of the chair and then opened the online file relating to Lacey’s case. She found the CCTV recording and clicked on it, but it wouldn’t open. She clicked again.
‘What’s going on?’ she muttered to herself.
She tried several more times, but still with no joy. Damn. She’d have to ask for another copy. She picked up the phone to call the secure control room.
‘Rogers.’
Just the person she was hoping would answer. She wouldn’t have a problem now.
‘Hi, Len, I’m after some Market Harborough footage from twelve months ago. We have a copy here but I think it’s corrupted as it won’t open. Any chance you could send it to me again? The only thing is, I need you to keep this request between us.’ She’d helped him out with an address a while back when he was trying to track someone down, so she could rely on him to keep it to himself.
‘What’s the exact date and which cameras?’
‘15 May. I’m interested in the cameras capturing High Street and The Square between say eight and ten-thirty in the morning.’ That should give enough time to spot the car Ruby had mentioned, and anything else of interest.
‘Hang on a minute and I’ll see what I can do. It might take a while. Shall I put you on hold? This month’s offering is Handel’s Water Music.’
‘I’ll wait, but without the music thanks, mate.’
‘You’ve got something against the classics?’
‘Not at all, but I’m happy to sit in silence.’
She drummed her fingers on the desk, staring absent-mindedly into space, her mind wandering, while listening to the rhythmic sound of Len striking the computer keys. After five minutes, she was about to hang up and call back a bit later when it went quiet.
‘I’ve got it all,’ Len said.
‘Oh, that’s amazing. You’re a lifesaver.’
‘How shall I record it in the log?’
‘Could you say I requested it, but don’t put a case number against it for the moment. I know you could get in trouble, but I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t really important. If anything transpires, I’ll update you so the records can be amended.’
He sighed loudly, which she took as a sign he was going to agree.
‘You do know I wouldn’t do this for anyone else, don’t you?’
‘That’s because you like me. And I’m the only person who laughs at all of your cringeworthy dad jokes.’
‘I hate to admit it, but you’re right. So, answer me this. What do you call a shoe made out of a banana?’
She rested her head in her hand. She’d set him off without even trying. ‘I give up, what do you call a shoe made out of a banana?’
‘A slipper. Get it?’ A loud belly laugh echoed in her ear.
‘Yes, I get it. That is so bad. Don’t tell me any more … my head can’t stand it.’
‘Ouch. You know how to hurt a man. Right, your footage is on its way over to you, now. Anything else you want while I’m here?’
‘That’s all for now, thanks. I owe you one.’
‘Yeah. Right. I’ll add it to the list,’ he said, still laughing as he ended the call.
Birdie stared at her computer screen until the email pinged and a link to the footage arrived in her inbox. She downloaded it and began to watch, working her way backwards from the time when the police were with Lacey. She hoped to be able to see how Lacey had ended up on the bench in front of the Old Grammar School, but she couldn’t. It was like one minute she wasn’t there and the next she was. It was impossible to see the direction she came from. Which meant, as she’d discussed with Seb, that the child didn’t arrive from the pavement side, but from underneath the old building. So, if she was dropped off in a car then whoever left her would have parked around the back where there were no cameras.
Coincidence?
No such thing.
If only Lacey would tell them what had happened that day their job would be so much easier. Did she even remember? She could’ve blocked out everything from her mind.
Birdie checked the cars and saw the one Ruby had mentioned going around the block several times until the last time when it was driven into an empty parking space someone had vacated. It was a silver Volkswagen Golf.
The driver, a woman wearing a long-sleeved dress, who looked to be in her thirties, although the grainy footage made it difficult to tell exactly, got out of the car and headed across the road to the Olive Tree Café. Birdie continued watching until thirty minutes after the time the police arrived and Lacey was taken away and the woman still hadn’t left. It seemed unlikely she was connected to Lacey, but Birdie took down the number plate details, which she could see thanks to the slightly angled position in which the woman had parked.
Birdie rewound the footage to watch again around the time when Lacey was left but still nothing stood out as being suspicious. She jotted down all the number plates she could see, intending to run them through the database hoping to find something worth pursuing. Sometimes luck was on their side, although she doubted it would be in this case. The scene was so normal it wasn’t funny. There was nothing out of the ordinary going on.
From footage between eight-thirty and nine she had a list of fifty plates to check. Without any help, it would take her hours and it had to be done straight away in case she didn’t get another opportunity. She’d be lucky to make cricket practice that evening.
Twiggy walked back into the office clutching a brown paper bag in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other, hoping to be alone to enjoy his treats. But his luck wasn’t in, as Birdie was there, staring intently at her computer screen.
He plonked himself down on his chair and placed the bag and cup on his desk which was next to hers.
‘What are you doing here on your day off?’
‘Nothing,’ she said, clicking her mouse and minimising the screen.
‘If you say so. Then why are you hiding it?’
‘Are you okay? You’re acting even grumpier than usual.’
‘Stop changing the subject.’
‘Okay. I’ll tell you what I’m doing, if you tell me what’s up with you.’
‘If you must know, I’m knackered, fed up and starving.’
Birdie frowned. ‘Okay, let’s take this one at a time. Why knackered?’
‘I spent most of last night trying to find Alex who’d told us she was staying at a friend’s house, but it turned out the pair of them had gone to some club,’ he said, referring to his eldest daughter.
‘How did you find out?’
‘Her friend’s mum phoned to speak to her, and we discovered we’d both been given the same story. Said they were staying at each other’s house.’
‘Where had they planned on sleeping?’
‘With another friend whose mum is a single parent and works nights.’
‘Were they okay when you found them?’
‘Yes, but that’s beside the point. They’re underage and had been drinking.’
He’d never been so scared in his whole life. Anyone who’d been in the job as long as he had would’ve felt the same. Alex would be lucky if she was allowed out of the house again, other than school, until she reached the age of thirty and could show some more common sense.
‘Don’t worry, Twig. We’ve all done it. Is that why you’re fed up?’
‘No. Well, yes, in part. But it’s mainly because Evie’s decided to drop the Paleo diet and she’s now got me on some regimen where I can only eat between certain hours and nothing after dinner at all, not even a tiny snack and no more than a thousand calories a day. Do you know what that means? I’ll tell you. I’m spending the whole time starving and I’m going to evaporate into nothing.’
‘What’s in there?’ Birdie pointed at the bag.
‘Nothing,’ he said sliding it across the desk away from him.
‘It doesn’t smell like nothing.’
He glanced at the bag, the smell from the hot snack invading his senses. ‘Okay, it’s a Cornish pasty and a vanilla slice. But in my de
fence—’
‘There is no defence. You cheat on your diets all the time and I’m guessing that what you’re about to eat now will be your entire day’s calories, and some, in a couple of bites.’
‘Don’t tell Evie, for God’s sake.’
‘I think she’ll be able to work that out for herself. Do yourself a favour and stick to it for a few weeks, and then you can go back to normal eating.’
‘Easy for you to say, but you should try it sometime. It does my head in.’
‘Whatever. I’m only making a suggestion. But if you do want me to keep your secret then you can give me a hand here,’ Birdie said, smirking.
He had no choice, and she knew it. He didn’t mind. It beat continuing with his paperwork.
‘I thought you weren’t doing anything,’ he reminded her.
‘I’m checking cars that were in the area around the time Lacey was found.’
‘You’re still looking into the case, then?’
‘I’m hardly going to change my mind, am I? It’s not interfering with my other work and Seb has plenty of time when I’m not available.’
Twiggy tensed at the mention of that man. He couldn’t help it. Who wouldn’t when comparing themselves to someone who was intimidatingly tall, in great shape and good-looking? Everything Twiggy wasn’t. To top it all, and most importantly, Birdie seemed to prefer working with Clifford than him. Why?
‘I would’ve helped if you’d asked instead of going straight to him.’
‘Don’t go all stupid on me. I didn’t want to put you on the spot and make you feel like you had to get involved in case it got you in trouble. Look, I’ve got fifty number plates to check. Are you going to lend a hand?’
‘What if Sarge comes in after his visit to the dentist?’
‘I’m hoping he won’t. Do you think he will?’ She twisted some loose strands of hair around her fingers.