by Sally Rigby
‘I saw Lacey yesterday with Catherine. She appears almost back to how she was before the incident. She was smiling and talked a little. Obviously not to me, but to Catherine. How’s the investigation going?’
‘We’ve got a lead. I’ll tell you all about it later.’
‘That’s fantastic. Fingers crossed it amounts to something.’
Birdie ran out of the house, opened the door to Seb’s car, and jumped in.
‘No need to say anything. I know. I’m sorry.’
He grinned in her direction. ‘My lips are sealed. Right, let’s go to the café and see if Tina Webb is available.’ He pulled out onto the road, heading in the direction of the town centre.
‘Who?’
‘The manager, we met her, remember?’
‘Oh, yeah. While we’re there I—’
‘Want to buy something for breakfast?’
She turned to him. ‘Correct. If I hadn’t been so late home last night, I’d have gone to bed earlier and then been up in time to have something to eat.’
‘If you had left the house earlier, you’d have more than likely gone to the pub to meet your friends and then gone out clubbing and arrived home even later than you actually did.’
‘Maybe. I’m surprised you could stay up so late. It must have been way past your bedtime when I left.’
‘Your sense of humour never fails to amuse,’ he replied, glancing in her direction.
‘That’s why you like having me around. You know, I can’t stop thinking about why Lacey was left. What are your thoughts?’
‘There could be many reasons, depending on who it was that left her. Was it her mother? Was it her father? Was it a friend? I think once we find out these details, our understanding will increase.’
‘Or was Lacey in danger? Would a mother leave her child if someone was threatening to hurt them? If sexual abuse was involved, she could’ve thought leaving her for social services to find was a better option than having to endure that. Especially if she believed she could no longer protect the child.’
‘You make a valid point, as it rarely starts until the child gets older, say, around the age Lacey is now.’
‘But, if that’s the case, then why didn’t the mother report the abuser? Unless she feared them.’
‘We need to know the whole scenario before we make any assumptions regarding whether abuse was involved.’
Birdie stared out of the window, thoughts circulating through her mind. She turned back to Seb. ‘The thing is, we know Lacey had been looked after. She’d been taught manners, she knew how to read, and could take care of herself when it came to dressing, washing and cleaning her teeth. All of which she did without being asked. We’ve always said that Lacey is very advanced for her years.’
‘That, too, could indicate issues. She could’ve been too scared to misbehave and act like a normal child of her age, because of the consequences.’
‘There were no bruises or anything to show physical abuse when she was found.’
‘As you know, abuse doesn’t have to be physical for it to be damaging. I repeat, we shouldn’t be making any assumptions until we discover exactly what circumstances she lived in.’
‘Well, let’s hope we’re on our way to finding all out.’
When they reached the café. Birdie pushed open the door, and the noise hit her. There was a line of people at the counter and most tables were taken.
‘A popular place,’ Seb said.
‘We’ll get in the queue and ask for Tina when we get to the front. While we’re there, I’ll order something to takeaway for breakfast. Do you want anything?’
‘Coffee to go. Nothing to eat, as I’ve already eaten.’
Although there were five people in front of them, they soon reached the front.
‘Yes?’ the girl who served them asked.
‘Is Tina here?’
‘She’s in the kitchen, as a member of staff didn’t turn up this morning.’
‘I’d like to order some food to go, but also need to speak to Tina regarding a case we’re investigating. Can you call her out, or should we go to the kitchen?’
‘I’ll take your order and then it’s best for you to go through.’
Birdie ordered, and then they headed behind the counter and out into the kitchen. It was a large area, almost as big as the seating area in the café. There was a large double oven, a hob, a microwave, dishwasher and sink. A stainless-steel table stood in the middle, behind which there were three people making sandwiches, all wearing white overalls, hairnets and disposable gloves.
Tina was one of them, and when they walked in, she glanced up.
‘This is …’ she hesitated. ‘Oh, I remember you from the other day. Are you here to see me?’
‘Sorry to bother you when you’re so busy, but we’d like to show you a photo of someone to see if you recognise her.’ Birdie took a step towards the woman, her phone in her hand, and the photo app opened.
‘Don’t get too close, because you’re not dressed properly.’ Tina removed her gloves, laid them on the table, and joined them.
‘This woman came into the café on the same day and time that Lacey was abandoned. It’s not a good image but we’re hoping you might recognise her?’
Birdie held out her phone, and Tina stared at it. ‘Hmm. I’m not sure.’ She tapped her lip with her forefinger. ‘Actually, I do remember her. Not her, but the bag she was carrying on her shoulder. It was a handmade raffia bag in sapphire blue. When I admired it she said she’d made it herself.’
‘Where did she sit?’
‘Next to the window at one of the small round tables.’
‘Would she have been able to see the Old Grammar School?’
‘Yes, if she sat on the right-hand seat. Which she did. Oh my God, I can’t believe I didn’t think of this before.’
‘How long did she stay for?’
‘I don’t recall. Maybe half an hour, or a little longer. All she had was a coffee.’
‘Can you describe her to us?’
‘Umm … She was average height. Maybe in her thirties. I don’t remember her hair or eye colour, sorry.’
‘It’s fine, you’ve given us more than we had before. If you think of anything else, please call me.’ Birdie took out a card from her pocket and handed it to her. ‘Thanks for your time. We’ll leave you to it. It’s crazy busy out there.’
‘Tell me about it,’ Tina said, giving a wry grin.
They left the kitchen, collected their takeaway from the counter, and walked out of the café.
‘I knew today was going to be good. We could’ve identified Lacey’s mum,’ she said to Seb on their way back to the car.
‘One step at a time,’ he cautioned.
‘And the next step is Creaton. Let’s go.’
Chapter 22
‘Laura Kingston lives towards the top of The Jetty, on the left,’ Birdie said, as they drove along the Brixworth Road and reached the edge of Creaton. ‘It’s a cul-de-sac, the second road on the left, opposite the playing field. You can’t miss it.’
‘You know this area, I take it?’ Seb said.
‘Yes, I had a friend who lived on The Green. This is definitely an area I’d consider living in, if I ever save up enough money for a house deposit. Or Cottesbrooke, which you can see in the distance. When I was young, Mum and Dad would bring us to the annual church fete held in the grounds of Cottesbrooke Hall.’ She pointed over the fields to the next village, where Seb could see the church tower standing proud against the rolling landscape.
‘I know of the Hall. It’s a Queen Anne house, but has an Arts and Crafts garden, circa 1930.’
‘You’ve been there, too? When?’
‘No, I’ve never visited. I would have read about it.’
He approached The Jetty and turned in, driving to the top as instructed. There were several modern detached houses facing down the road and with views of the open fields.
Birdie rang the bell and a woman in her
forties, wearing leggings and a baggy jumper, answered.
‘Hello, I’m Lucinda Bird, and this is Sebastian Clifford. We’re looking for Laura Kingston?’
‘That’s me.’
‘We’d like to speak to you regarding a stolen car from twelve months ago, as we believe it might link to a case we’re investigating. Do you have a few minutes?’
‘Are you the police?’
‘Private investigators,’ Birdie said.
‘Don’t tell me you’ve actually found my car after all this time.’
‘Not exactly. May we come inside?’
The woman opened the door, and they walked into a square hallway. She ushered them to a modern lounge, which went from front to back of the house.
‘Please take a seat. Would you like anything to drink?’
‘We’re fine, thank you,’ Birdie said, as they both sat on the black leather sofa. ‘Please, could you go through what happened when your car was stolen?’
Laura Kingston sat on the edge of a single leather chair next to them and leant in towards them. ‘I went over all this with the police.’
‘We’d like to get a fresh perspective on it.’ Birdie pulled out her notebook and pen, her face set.
If the incident had been investigated by the Northamptonshire Police, she most likely wouldn’t have seen the file.
‘I explained I thought I knew who’d stolen the car, but the police couldn’t find her. I’m not even sure how hard they tried. No offence.’
‘If you could go through the story, from when you discovered your car was missing,’ Birdie said.
‘We went to Center Parcs at Sherwood Forest, in Nottingham, and left first thing on Friday morning, the 14th. My car was on the drive and the keys were inside the house on the hook in the hall, where they were always kept. Easy to steal.’
Birdie looked up from her notebook. ‘So you believe that someone broke into the house and stole the car keys?’
‘No. She didn’t break in. She didn’t need to as she had a front door key.’
‘She?’
‘The person who stole my car.’
Birdie frowned. ‘And the police didn’t trace her. Who is she?’
‘My cleaner, Tessa Casey. Or, ex-cleaner. I haven’t seen her since that weekend. She always came to clean on a Friday morning, and I’d given her a key in case I was ever out when she arrived. When we got home from Center Parcs on the Sunday afternoon, the car had gone and we didn’t see Tessa again. According to one neighbour, the car wasn’t in the drive after Friday morning, so we assumed she took it then.’
‘I accept that it all pointed to Tessa, but did you consider an alternative version? That it might have happened when she was working. Perhaps she’d left the front door open, and an opportunist thief came in and took the keys and car?’ Seb asked.
‘In this village, at the top of a cul-de-sac? How likely is that? If it wasn’t her, she’d have come to work the following Friday, but she didn’t. We had to change the lock on the front door because she still had the key.’
‘Does she live locally?’ Birdie asked.
‘Holcot. At least that’s what she told me. It turned out that the address she’d given me doesn’t exist.’
‘Did you take references or do a check when you took her on?’ Seb asked.
‘No. I placed an ad in the local newsagent and she answered it. She told me she cleaned for several people in the vicinity. I gave her a trial and was happy with her work, so I kept her on. I didn’t leave her alone in the house for the first few months. I liked her. I still can’t believe how stupid I was. It taught me a valuable lesson. I won’t ever employ anyone again without checking references.’
‘How long did Tessa work for you?’
‘Six months. She was a great cleaner, which made what happened even more devastating. I still haven’t been able to bring myself to employ anyone else. We’re muddling through doing it ourselves.’
‘Did Tessa drive herself to work?’ Seb asked.
‘No. Either she had a lift, or she caught the bus.’
‘Who would bring her?’
‘I saw her being dropped off once by a man. It might have been her brother, as she sometimes mentioned him.’
‘Did she talk about the rest of her family, in particular, any children?’ Birdie asked.
‘She gave me the impression that she was single with no other family. She certainly didn’t mention having any children. Why?’
‘We’re trying to get a fuller picture. Is this Tessa?’ Birdie took out her phone and showed Laura Kingston the image.
The woman nodded. ‘Yep. That’s her. Even side-on I can tell because of the way she’s bending forward slightly. And that’s her blue bag. She always had it with her. I think she made it herself. Or someone made it for her. She told me it was home-made.’
‘Thank you. One more question. When you last saw your car, was it damaged in any way?’ Birdie asked.
‘Yes, there was a dent at the back. I was in the supermarket car park and accidentally reversed into one of those small black bollard things. I totally didn’t see it. My husband had a hissy fit when it happened but it’s easy for someone of his height to see all around the car. I’m barely over five feet two and have so many blind spots in a car that it’s not funny. We planned on waiting until the car’s next service before getting it fixed. So what happens, now, if you’ve found the car? The insurance company paid out, so should it go to them?’
‘The car we believe might be yours currently has false number plates. If it’s recovered and they find ownership to be yours, then you will need to contact your insurance company, as they will deem it theirs and class it as salvageable,’ Seb said.
‘When will this happen?’
‘Not until we have the car in our possession. All we have at present is CCTV footage, which is where we got Tessa’s image from,’ Birdie said.
‘I thought you actually had it. So, there’s nothing for me to do, in that case.’
‘No. But if you remember anything else about Tessa, please contact me.’ Birdie ripped out a piece of paper from her notebook, wrote her mobile number and handed it to the woman.
They left the house and headed back to the car.
‘Do you know Holcot?’ Seb asked, as he pulled over his seat belt and clicked it in place.
‘Yes, go back the way we came and when we get to Brixworth, we’ll take the Holcot Road. It’s a village about six miles away from here. It won’t take us long.’
‘There’s a chance we might come across the stolen car.’
‘If the cleaner actually lives there.’
‘It’s surprising how many people stick fairly close to the truth when lying. It makes the lies easier to remember. Even if Tessa gave Laura Kingston a fake address at the time of her employment, she may well have told her the correct area.’
‘Plus, we now have her name, so should be able to track her that way. I’ll get onto that on Monday. In the meantime, Holcot, here we come.’
Chapter 23
Birdie stared out of the window as they drove along the winding lanes. Wild flowers dotted the countryside. It was so peaceful. She could understand why people wanted to live in a rural location. Especially somewhere like this, with vibrant cities in easy reach by train or car.
‘Do you miss London?’ she asked, turning to Seb, who was staring intently, concentrating on the road ahead.
‘I don’t miss the traffic, although …’ He pulled onto the side of the road to move out of the way of an oncoming tractor. ‘Driving around here takes a bit of getting used to.’
‘Your family lives on an estate that’s in the country. Tractors shouldn’t be alien to you.’
‘I haven’t lived there for a lot of years and our estate isn’t far off the M3. The roads are much straighter.’
‘Have you thought about moving up here on a more permanent basis? Now you’ve set up your company you could work from anywhere.’
Would she like to have
him around all the time? She had to admit to enjoying his company, even though they had nothing in common. Apart from a desire for justice and not giving up until they could solve a case.
‘I’m semi-permanent now, with Sarah being away. I’ll decide when she returns.’
‘Tell me about this marketing strategy you’re devising for CIS.’
‘I don’t want to spend my time working on potential divorce proceedings and following people for hours on end. That would not be fulfilling. I’m going to be selective on the cases I accept.’
‘They might not come along regularly. Divorce work is like the bread and butter for private investigators. Surely you would need to take some of these cases?’
‘That’s where working with Rob fits in. I’d rather be a civilian researcher for the Met where I can dictate my own working hours. As my reputation builds, and more cases come my way, then I’ll pull back from my work with him.’
‘Sounds like a plan. But you still haven’t told me how you’re going to find these special cases.’
‘I’m going to utilise my connections. I had an excellent reputation when working at the Met. And also …’ he hesitated.
‘Your family and society friends?’
‘How did you know?’
‘It’s obvious. They’re the ones with the money who can afford your services. I think it’s a great idea. I might even leave the force and join you.’
He glanced in her direction. ‘Really?’
‘No. I’m just messing around. Can you seriously ever see me leaving the police? Turn here.’ She pointed to the road on the left.
They drove for a further five minutes, until reaching the Holcot sign, and Seb pulled in.
‘Do you know where the village shop is? I’m assuming there is one.’
‘I’ve no idea. Why?’
‘If we want to discover where Tessa Casey lives, then the village shop is the place to start. They’ll know about everyone who lives here.’
They drove further and came to the shop. As they opened the door, the overhead bell rang. Birdie scanned the area. It was empty. It was a general store and typical of other village shops she’d been in; full of many things, not only food but also games, cleaning products, magazines, books. It was jam-packed.