by Wyer, Carol
‘And you think it’s okay to accept cigarettes from underage girls and encourage them to smoke?’
‘It was no big deal. I started smoking when I was a kid. Savannah told us she’d been smoking for two years. She wasn’t a young thirteen-year-old; she was quite grown-up in some ways – quiet but not like some who are a bit juvenile and silly.’
‘She might have appeared that way but actually she was still a minor. I’m going to cut to the chase here. Did you have any form of relationship with her?’
‘No!’
‘Did you make any advances towards her?’
‘What, try it on with her? No way. I’m not stupid. Imagine if something like that got back to my boss? I’d get the boot. I didn’t, and she didn’t flirt or anything with me, either. Ask Will. He knows nothing happened. Besides, she’s not my type at all.’
‘What about her friend?’
‘I didn’t try it on with her either.’
Natalie noted his indignation and also that he couldn’t leave his lighter alone, his fingers rubbing the plastic as he spoke. She changed tack. ‘Yesterday afternoon, you and Will left the job early to collect building supplies.’
His head bounced up and down as she spoke. ‘Boss sent Will a text message asking us to get the materials so we had to knock off early.’
‘You were dropped off at home and you didn’t see or speak to Savannah Hopkins at all? Is that correct?’
‘That’s right. A police officer came around last night, told me she’d gone missing and quizzed me about her, things she might have told me, whether I’d noticed anyone else around the house, if she’d seemed unhappy – that sort of stuff.’
‘Did she?’
‘A few days ago, she seemed more downbeat than usual. I asked her if she was okay and she said she was sick of the kids in her class and the whole town. Said she’d like to leave Watfield.’
‘Did she mention where she might go?’
‘London. She really wanted to become a singer. She thought that was the place to go. We all have daft ideas like that. I wanted to be a footballer at her age. When the officer told me she was missing, I figured she’d run away.’
‘When was the last time you saw Savannah?’
‘Friday afternoon. Jane sent her out with two mugs of tea. Jane always makes sure we get enough tea and biscuits.’
‘How was she?’
‘Same as usual – quiet, a bit shy.’
‘She was a quiet, timid girl but she came outside and offered around cigarettes and poured her heart out about wanting to be a singer to you, a complete stranger.’
‘Maybe she just liked me and felt she could tell me things. Girls generally like me.’
This fresh element of smugness served only to irritate Natalie, who needed to corroborate his version of events. Murray was in the adjacent room interviewing his work colleague, Will. She’d see if their accounts tallied.
‘I’m going to leave you for a moment. Could you wait here, please?’
‘Can’t I go yet? I haven’t done anything.’
His insensitivity was irksome. ‘You’re helping us with our enquiries into the murder of a thirteen-year-old girl who you knew, so for the moment, sit tight.’
She tapped on the door to interview room B and Murray emerged. They kept their voices lowered.
‘Stu says they went to collect supplies yesterday afternoon and he was dropped off at home. Didn’t see Savannah,’ she said.
‘Same story as Will – they went to pick up some cement and guttering and he took it back to the yard. Said it didn’t need both of them to offload the supplies and since they were driving past Stu’s house, he deposited Stu there and then carried on without him. Will was in the yard until almost five fifteen. The owner, Noel Reeves, was present at the time, chatted to him for a while about their current job and likelihood of finishing by the end of the month so they could move on to another job in Watfield.’
‘Have you checked with Mr Reeves?’
‘I rang him a few minutes ago. Will appeared at about quarter to five and stayed until well after five. He also confirmed he asked them to collect the materials from the suppliers before they shut shop at four thirty.’
‘Okay. What about smoking with the girls? Did Will admit to that?’
‘Said the girls were giggly and asked if they wanted a cigarette. He knew they were underage, but since he didn’t offer them the cigarettes, he didn’t think it was wrong. Didn’t speak much to Savannah but said she seemed to gravitate to Stu and had spoken to him on a couple of occasions.’
‘Mind if I have a quick word? I can’t shake off the feeling Stu’s not being straight with me. His body language is all wrong.’
‘He could be nervous.’
Natalie pulled a face. ‘No, it’s more than that.’
Murray’s interviewee, Will Layton, was older than Stu, a bull-necked man in his late twenties with lips pressed into a thin line. He rested his elbows on the desk, his eyes narrowing at her arrival.
‘Good afternoon, Will. I’m DI Ward. I’ve been talking to your colleague, Stu, about Savannah Hopkins. I’d like to hear your version of events. You both left work early yesterday and I’d like you to run through where you went.’
‘I already went through everything with DS Anderson.’
‘And I’d like you to go through it again for me.’
‘We had to collect some cement and guttering from the suppliers at the other side of town. I got a text from Noel asking us to pick up the stuff before four thirty, when they shut, and take it to the yard. We left Jane’s house at about four, drove to KSC Building Supplies, picked up the gear and headed back to the yard. That’s where we leave the van each night – outside the offices. I dropped Stu off at his house, which is a couple of streets away, and delivered the goods. I knew nothing about Savannah being missing until later when I heard down the pub that the coppers were looking for her.’
‘You don’t use Wilton’s Building Supplies for your building materials?’
‘We don’t have an account with them, and besides, they sell mostly to the public. We’re trade. We use KSC.’
‘How many bags of cement did you buy?’
‘What?’
‘How many bags of cement did you purchase?’
‘Four bags of general-purpose cement.’
‘Weight?’
‘Err, twenty-five kilos each.’
‘And what sort of guttering? Plastic? Steel? Length?’
‘Galeco galvanised steel, ten lengths of three metres. Why do you want to know all this?’
Natalie didn’t respond to his question. ‘Anything else?’
‘No. That was it.’
‘What about plaster?’
His eyes darted from Natalie to Murray. ‘They didn’t have exactly what we needed so we didn’t get it. The boss said he’d go to Stoke-on-Trent to get it this morning.’
‘And what make of plaster was it?’
‘Thistle multi-finish. They’d run out.’
‘I could check those details with the suppliers.’ She cocked her head and gave him a small smile. Stu’s version had been slightly different.
Will kept his silence.
‘And Stu was with you all the time?’
Will looked away. She’d got him cornered.
‘You know there will be CCTV footage from the building suppliers proving you went inside alone. Do I need to request it?’ His chin lowered, a submissiveness. She’d guessed correctly. Stu had claimed they’d picked up plaster but there had been none, a fact he’d have known if he’d accompanied Will. ‘You’re not only lying to us, you’re perverting the course of justice by being uncooperative. We’re investigating a murder, a cold-blooded murder of a young girl, and we don’t have time for timewasters like you. I don’t care what your motives are for lying on his behalf; what I want is the truth. Stu wasn’t with you, was he?’
He glowered at her, eyes glittering before finally replying, ‘No. I went to the s
uppliers alone.’
* * *
Lucy was inside 21 Western Park Road, trying hard to get Jane Hopkins to talk. The woman was a sobbing mess, hair lank and flat to her head, and eyes hollow in a grey face. Tanya Granger was with her, an arm around her shoulders. The house phone rang and Tanya patted Jane’s arm gently then stood up. Lucy was aware of Jane’s eyes following the liaison officer, who answered the call and quietly told the reporter at the other end not to ring again.
‘Another one?’ Jane said, sniffs interrupting her words. Tanya nodded.
‘Jane, I really need to ask you some questions. Are you up to it?’
Jane’s staccato inhalations quickened.
‘Jane. I have to ask you about Phil.’
The breaths became soft sobs once more.
‘We know you’ve been seeing somebody called Phil. Help me out, Jane. I have to eliminate him from our enquiries.’
‘It wasn’t him… He didn’t kill her.’ Jane fought for control, hands twisting at a fleece blanket on her knees.
‘Jane, if you won’t tell me anything, I’ll have to find him and take him to the station for questioning.’
Her eyes widened. ‘Don’t. Please… don’t.’
‘Then tell me what I need to know. Who he is?’
‘Phil Howitt. He owns Wilton’s Building Supplies, where I work.’
Lucy had checked Jane’s background and believed the owner to be called Wyn not Phil Howitt.
Jane explained. ‘He hates being called Wyn. He’s always been Phil to everyone. He got the nickname because he looks like Phillip Schofield, the television presenter.’
‘How long have you been involved with him?’
‘Since the office party last Christmas,’ she replied softly, fingers plucking at the edge of the blanket. ‘He’s married and has two little kids. You mustn’t question him. His wife can’t find out about us. He had nothing to do with Savannah’s disappearance or murder.’
‘I’m afraid that’s for us to investigate and decide.’
‘He wasn’t involved.’
‘What makes you so sure?’
Tears tumbled down her cheeks. She raised her haunted eyes. ‘I was with Phil when Savannah went missing. He’s the reason I was late home. We were having sex in the back office and I didn’t leave at my usual time. I left almost half an hour later.’
‘You told DI Ward you were held up in traffic.’
‘It was a half-truth. I got stuck in a long line of traffic behind a tractor, and none of us could overtake, but if I’d left on time, that probably wouldn’t have happened. It’s my fault. This is all my fault.’
* * *
Natalie and Murray sat in front of Stu Oldfields. Murray kept his eyes anchored on the man, arms folded, filling his seat with his huge frame.
‘What’s happened? Why are you looking at me like that? What’s Will told you?’ The confidence had disappeared.
‘I think you’ve a fair idea of what he told us,’ said Murray.
‘The fucker. He promised he’d back me up.’
Natalie took over. ‘I’m afraid the new information we’ve received changes quite a few things, Stu. You no longer have an alibi for yesterday afternoon. You didn’t go to buy supplies with Will, in fact you left Jane’s house fifteen minutes before him at quarter to four. He told us you headed towards town. That’s the same route Savannah would have taken to return home. You must have seen her coming in the opposite direction.’
Stu’s head swayed wildly from side to side. ‘It isn’t what you think.’
‘And what might I be thinking?’ said Natalie sharply.
‘I didn’t kill Savannah.’
‘Let me tell you what I actually think, Stu. I think you’ve wasted a lot of my valuable time by keeping back the truth. Savannah was murdered. You told the officer in charge of investigating her disappearance that she’d hinted about running away and you possibly muddied waters for his investigation.’ She held up a hand to silence him when he began to retort. ‘Shut up. I’m speaking now. You’ve lied, withheld information, been vague with your responses and now you’re telling me you didn’t see Savannah, even though you left her house and walked into town at about the time she was returning home. From where I’m sitting, you’d better have a cast-iron alibi or you’re suddenly our number-one suspect. Where did you go?’
‘I didn’t kill her.’
‘That’s not what I asked you,’ Natalie snapped.
He lifted the lighter and twisted it around between his fingers. ‘I met up with somebody.’
‘Who?’
‘I can’t say.’
Natalie slammed her palm against the desk. ‘For crying out loud! Do you want to be charged for murder?’
‘I didn’t kill her.’
‘Who did you meet up with?’
He stared at the lighter. Natalie waited, lips pursed, eyes drilling into him. When he didn’t meet her gaze, she sat back in her seat.
‘Right, Stu. I haven’t got time to piss about. I’m not going to play your stupid games. I could do this the hard way. I could waste my team’s valuable efforts tracking down your movements by tracing your mobile, using CCTV footage, any number of ways… all of which will take time. Eventually, we’ll determine exactly what route you took, where you went and who you were with. If you’re not guilty of either abducting or killing Savannah, you can save me a lot of hassle and allow me to do my job properly, which is tracking down her killer. If you don’t cooperate, I can charge you on a number of offences, and ultimately, if you’re lying, and you did bump into Savannah or go off with her, I can charge you for your part in her murder. How do you want to play this? Let me give you a helpful suggestion – one way will make me so furious I’ll have you banged up in a cell within minutes; the other might just see you going back home later today. Which is it to be?’
He refused to look up.
‘DS Anderson, charge Stu with perverting the course of justice and stick him downstairs in a cell. Stu, you’ll need to contact a lawyer.’ She scraped back her chair and marched to the door. She was pinning everything on him responding to this heavy-handedness but he kept silent. She stood outside in the corridor and lifted her head to the ceiling. Bloody Stu Oldfields.
Eight
Tuesday, 17 April – Afternoon
Natalie threw open the door to the office and flung her file onto the nearest table. ‘Little bastard won’t talk. He’s wasting our fucking time!’
Ian watched her as she paced the room before he spoke. ‘We might have something else to go on. I’ve been reading through all the files DI Graham Kilburn gave you, along with the statements we took from witnesses this morning, and one of the last people to see Savannah near the Aldi supermarket was a bloke called Anthony Lane. I ran his name through the police database, and guess what? He’s on the register. He’s a known sex offender and was charged in 2008 for exposing himself to young girls.’
‘Okay, we’ll talk to him.’
The internal phone rang. It was Murray. ‘Stu’s just told me where he was yesterday afternoon.’
‘Where?’
‘In the park behind Savannah’s house. He was with a girl right up until six thirty and then he went home, had dinner with his mum and watched telly.’
‘Who was he with?’
‘He’s reluctant to give us her name. Apparently, she’s a schoolgirl.’
‘From the same school Savannah attended?’
‘No. She’s from Lincoln Fields Secondary School which is at the far side of town.’
‘He needs to tell us who she is. I’m guessing she’s underage or he’d be more cooperative. Press him, Murray.’
She put down the receiver and faced Ian. ‘Seems Murray’s got him talking at last. If Stu’s alibi checks out, he’ll be out of the frame for this and we’re down a suspect. Have you got an address for Anthony?’
Ian scribbled it on a sticky note. As he did so, her mobile phone rang.
Lucy’s voice crackl
ed, like she had a poor signal. ‘Jane’s confessed she’s in a relationship with Phil Howitt, owner of Wilton’s Building Supplies. They were having sex in his office yesterday afternoon, which was why she was late leaving the premises. She says he can’t have had anything to do with Savannah’s disappearance.’
‘We still need to talk to him. We don’t know if she was actually snatched coming home from school or much later. She might not have been taken at all. She was dressed to meet somebody. Just because he was with her mother at four doesn’t mean he didn’t meet up with Savannah afterwards.’
‘My thoughts exactly, which is why I’m sitting outside the office of Wilton’s Building Supplies, about to go in and question him.’
‘Good. Savannah told Sally that Phil was creepy. There might be a solid reason for that. Find out how well they got along, if at all.’
‘Roger. On it.’
The line went dead and Natalie turned her attention to the address Ian had passed her. Anthony lived a few minutes away from the supermarket. ‘Nothing on Lance yet?’
‘Not a thing.’
‘Let me know as soon as you locate him. I’m going to talk to Anthony. What was the name of the other guy who saw her on her way home?
‘Nick Duffield but he’s known as Duffy. Works in the phone shop in Watfield.’
‘I’ll question him too while I’m in town. Ask Murray to check out Stu’s alibi once he coughs up who it is.’
‘Reckon he’ll tell Murray who he was meeting, then?’
‘For certain. That’s why I left Murray alone with him. I got the impression Stu was slightly afraid of him. If anyone can extract that information, it’s Murray.’
* * *
Phil Howitt was only in his mid-forties but with a full head of platinum hair that was at odds with his heavy, dark brows. He studied Lucy carefully and shook his head sadly. Jane had been correct when she said he resembled the television presenter Phillip Schofield. ‘What a truly dreadful thing to have happened. I spoke to Jane last night. The poor thing was in bits. I can’t imagine how she must be feeling. And Savannah – a lovely girl. I can’t believe this has happened to her. Have you any idea who might have killed her?’ His eyebrows wrinkled with unease and sorrow.