A log shifted in the fire. Her feet were toasting nicely. She reached an arm out to the fruit bowl and crunched an apple, then finished her drink. The taste of anise had increased with the warmth of the room. She felt desolate.
Sleep tight, she told Ed.
Chapter Eight
When the policewoman had left, Ade Visser paced around the house. His heart was pounding. His armpits were sticky. He stripped his shirt off. The feel and smell of his sweat disgusted him. He stopped in the kitchen and drank two glasses of water.
He was so angry with Lauren. He’d wanted to shake her there on that slab, shout at her. He’d loved her but God, she’d frustrated him! Aware of DI Drummond’s gaze, he’d kept his emotions reined in.
When he’d met Lauren, she’d seemed so undemanding, pliable in a way he found soothing and reassuring. As time went on, he found that she had unfathomable layers. When he tried to reason with her, get her to see his point of view, she’d look as if she was listening, head slightly to one side, and then she’d go off and do what she liked. She had a way of being softly and subtly resistant. It was like pushing against air. He’d never come across a woman like her before. Sometimes he’d wondered if something was wrong with her. Yet at times he’d worried that she’d understood too much. She’d look at him with her deep-set eyes when he came home, and he thought she knew about his sickening secret. There was no way that she could, he was sure of it. No one but him had ever known. But all the same, she had an expression that was both knowing and forgiving.
And now he was in this terrible situation, riddled with self-loathing and fury. And guilt. So much sickening guilt.
He showered again, lathering soap all over his body and using a hard loofah to scour his skin. The ritual of washing usually calmed him but after he’d dressed, his agitation was still intense. He took his bike out and cycled for a couple of hours, into town, through the harbour and out into the country lanes. Sweat and tears filled his eyes. Afterwards, he had no recollection of exactly where he’d been. He knew that he’d paused by the sea at one point, looking out over Minster Beach, the strong breeze rocking his bike. He’d seen a fishing boat heading out and longed to be on it, sailing into the horizon.
He was in the same emotional turmoil when he came home, but at least he was physically exhausted. He ordered a takeaway and showered yet again, scrubbing hard at every inch of his skin. He even did the soles of his feet. Then he stared up at the rushing water. He’d lied to Drummond and he didn’t know if she’d find out. It depended on how sound a sleeper Errol was. He’d rung his friend and got his voice mail. He hadn’t expected Errol to pick up.
He struck the side of the shower cubicle with his fist. Sometimes he felt as if he was rotting from the inside and people would smell a whiff of decay. It was why he showered as much as he did, up to four a day when he could. Trying to wash away the taint of revulsion. Maybe this turmoil in his life was a warning. If he’d been religious, he’d have believed it was God’s way of getting him to repent. He struck the cubicle again and it shuddered, sending spray flying.
He was mad. Mad at Lauren for not listening to him, mad with guilt and grief and desperate because he knew he was going to be under a remorseless spotlight.
* **
‘The story so far,’ Siv said, gesturing at the incident board. ‘Lauren Visser, twenty-five, was stabbed, possibly with scissors, yesterday morning after swimming in the River Bere at Lock Lane. The photo of a child, a young girl, was left on her chest. Her husband reported her as missing when he got home from an overnight stay in London. He says he reached home at nine thirty a.m. yesterday and his car wasn’t there. Lauren planned to go swimming around six or possibly earlier. I’m still waiting to contact Visser’s friend to verify the information he gave me about his overnight stay. Matis Rimas, twenty, a Lithuanian man, left home to go fishing at six forty-five a.m. He was killed around the same time as Lauren — we’re waiting on PM results — and with the same weapon. He arrived in the UK in July last year and was working as a plasterer. Lauren went swimming in the river at Lock Lane occasionally. Rimas went fishing there frequently and without a permit. To date, we have no connection between them. We need to look closely for one, through either place or people. The same with the child. The photo must have been left on Lauren’s body because the little girl was linked to her in some way. She worked at a nursery so maybe that’s a connection. Maybe Rimas had worked there as he didn’t have children.’ She looked at her colleagues. Ali was eating a pear, Wooton had his arms crossed and was staring up at the ceiling. Patrick Hill had got in at one minute to nine looking wild-eyed, as if he’d spent the night partying. The others were looking at the board or taking notes. ‘Steve, can you update us?’
Wooton snapped to attention. ‘Forensics are still processing shoe prints and tyre marks from the site. We’re back there today. The fresh tyre marks near the Honda indicate that someone else was parked there at some point early yesterday. We’ve still got to examine the cars. Anand stated that they were both killed there, in the trees.’
‘Rimas’s phone?’ she asked.
‘I’ve sent it over for unlocking and scrutiny.’
‘We need a search of the river, see if we can find the murder weapon.’
‘I’ve already put in a request.’
‘Filip Mazur said Rimas had a pay-as-you-go phone. No computer,’ Ali said, picking up the thread. ‘Mazur met Rimas through work and rented him a room. He moved in last October. Mazur loaned Rimas his car yesterday and his own early-morning movements check out. I contacted the police in Krosna. They were going to tell Rimas’s family. I’m waiting to hear if a family member is coming over but in the meantime, Mazur is identifying the body later today.’
‘Patrick and another officer were working through our list of members of the angling club,’ Siv said. ‘Patrick?’
‘Guv. We got through eighteen so far on the list of anglers. Ten were contactable. None of them had been to the river recently — because of the “close” season — and none of them knew our victims or of a little girl. They all said kids rarely go there. One commented a bit tartly that “small children and fishing don’t mix.”’
The other officer raised a finger. ‘Lisa Flore, guv. The close season thing means that it’s much quieter at the river than usual.’
‘So maybe that’s why Lauren went there yesterday. Try to finish those calls today. The photo of the child is important. So far, no one we’ve questioned has recognized her. Visser said Lauren had no children but maybe she’d had one in a previous life and didn’t tell him. Dr Anand will be able to confirm that. I want you to check the CCTV on roads around the area as well, see if we get any cars in the timescale. And I want someone to check out Alan Vine’s background. I can’t see him as a double murderer but find out about him. I want a door-to-door organized in Spring Gardens with uniforms. Maybe a neighbour saw Visser cycle home yesterday. Also, I want to know if anyone saw Lauren the night before she died or leaving the house to go for her early swim, or anyone visiting. Get a photo done of Rimas and show that round with the photo of that child. Maybe someone will have noticed Rimas in his shabby clothes, given that Spring Gardens is a genteel kind of street. And look into CCTV from yesterday morning. We also need to check Rimas’s workplace, find out if there were any problems or if anyone there knew he was going fishing yesterday morning. Long list, I know. Ali, can you check who’s doing what. Then I want you to come with me to see Visser. We’re turning up unannounced. I just want to speak to DCI Mortimer about a press conference for later today, then we’ll head off.’
* **
Ade Visser looked washed out and subdued. He was tetchy and bleary eyed but fresh from the shower and dressed in chinos and crisp cotton shirt. The living room curtains were still drawn when they arrived just after half ten. He went and pulled them back as he led them in. The remains of a Chinese takeaway lay on the coffee table. Grief evidently hadn’t robbed him of his appetite. Siv herself hadn’t ea
ten much for months after Ed died. The smell of food had sickened her and she’d gone around lightheaded. But she needed to remember that everyone reacted differently to sorrow. There was no template.
She’d agreed with Ali that the sergeant would start off with general questions. ‘He associates me with the bad news and the morgue. You might get more out of him to start with.’
Visser gestured at the mess. ‘Sorry about this. I’ll have to clean up later. My mother’s arriving from Hampshire this afternoon. I don’t want her to come and I tried to stop her but she insisted.’ Visser was looking at Siv and seemed taken aback when Ali spoke.
‘I’m very sorry about your wife, Mr Visser. I’m glad you’ve got someone coming to be with you. I know that this is a difficult time.’
‘I don’t need TLC, so save it for someone who does. What more do you know? What progress have you made?’
‘We’ll know more after the post-mortem,’ Ali said. ‘The weapon used to stab your wife might have been a pair of scissors. We need to ask you some more questions now, to get an idea about Lauren’s life.’
His reply was a surprise. ‘Have you found out anything about that man yet — the man who was found dead near Lauren? Rimas, wasn’t it? Have you found out that she knew him?’
‘We’re making enquiries about Mr Rimas,’ Ali told him, pulling out Rimas’s picture. ‘As yet, we haven’t established that he knew your wife. Do you recognize him?’
Visser stared at the enlarged photo made from Rimas’s passport. ‘I’ve never seen this man.’
‘Thank you. So, can you tell me how you met Lauren?’ Ali said.
Visser gave a heavy sigh. ‘February, three years ago. We met through mutual friends, Harvey and Jenna Seaton. I’ve known Harvey for a while because he rides and attends events. He sources new saddles and other bits of equipment through me. His wife, Jenna, owns the nursery where Lauren worked. It was Harvey’s birthday and he had a party. We met at their house. We married six months later. I knew as soon as I saw Lauren that she was the one for me. She was so gentle and kind. My twin soul in life. She was such a caring person. I’d never known anyone who felt so strongly about nature and the environment. She worked as a volunteer with a wildlife conservation group in town, Minstergreen.’
‘And her family? Where did she grow up?’ Ali asked.
‘Here in Berminster. Like I said yesterday, her mother died before we met. She never knew who her father was. There was no one else.’ He rubbed at his head. ‘Have you found her rucksack? I tried her phone again last night. Stupid, I know. It went to voice mail.’
Siv swallowed. She knew about ringing a dead person, listening to their voice over and over. Hi, it’s Ed. If you’re not wasting my time, leave a message.
‘Not yet,’ Ali said. ‘Did Lauren have a computer or iPad?’
‘No. She used her phone for all her online things. She had a little study upstairs where she did stuff for her conservation work.’
‘We’ll need to take a look in there and around the rest of the house. We haven’t found her phone yet either.’
‘If you need passwords for her accounts, I know them.’ Visser rubbed his head again and then his eyes.
Ali nodded encouragingly. ‘Can you tell us about Lauren’s friends?’
‘She had one close friend, Cora Laffin. They were at school together. Cora got Lauren into swimming in rivers and lakes. She calls herself a “life adventurer” and she’s always surfing or climbing rocks. All very well if you’re single, with no commitments and no one at home worrying about you. When we got together, I tried hard to persuade Lauren to give it up. Such a stupid craze, but she said it made her feel free. It worried me, her going off on her own so often to isolated places and swimming in water that might be dirty. Sometimes she’d be gone for hours. I told her it wasn’t sensible. She’d get bad throats or stomach upsets and I’m sure it was from crap in the water. But I couldn’t get through to her, no matter how hard I tried. I’d say to her, why can’t you just use the swimming pool like everyone else?’
He sounded like Alan Vine. ‘I suppose because everyone else would be using it too and she wanted peace and solitude,’ Ali said. Visser had grown agitated as he talked about his wife’s swimming, his eyes darting. ‘How often did she go swimming?’
‘Twice a week. More maybe when I was away. I travel quite a bit with my work. And, of course, that worried me because I wouldn’t know if she was okay. We always spoke every day, but anything could have been happening to her while I was gone. It was all too much. At times, it seemed to me that it was a bit of an unhealthy obsession with Lauren.’
‘You seem to have been very much against Lauren enjoying her hobby.’
‘Only because it worried me so much. I mean, you hear about terrible things happening to women. There are predators out there and a woman on her own is so open to danger. You want to keep the people you love safe, don’t you? She meant the world to me, she really did. I couldn’t bear the thought of anything happening to her. And I was right. She’d be alive now if she hadn’t been at the river. If only she’d listened to me, it’d be her sitting there now instead of you!’
Siv recognized his anger, knew that he was tasting it just as she had when she’d berated her dead husband. But there was an undercurrent she didn’t like. His concern sounded more like, I loved her so much I wanted to keep her under my eye and smother her. He was a man who knew his wife’s passwords. The kind who might end up bugging his partner’s phone or putting a tracking device in their car. He was twisting his wedding ring round and round. His inertia had vanished and now he looked intense and angry. She nodded to Ali that she’d take over.
‘How did Lauren feel about your dislike of her hobby? Did it upset or annoy her?’ she asked.
‘We just agreed to disagree. She pointed out that she didn’t always like being at home on her own when I had to work away. So . . . you know. Sometimes you just have to accept things in the person you love.’
Siv didn’t believe this grudging acceptance. He didn’t seem the accommodating type. But would he have killed his wife because he objected to her swimming and she wouldn’t comply? Seemed unlikely, but jealousy and resentment could reach a tipping point. ‘How about Lauren’s work? Was everything all right there?’
‘Very much so. She was happy at the nursery. She looked forward to going in every day.’ Visser got up and took a photo from the mantelpiece, ran his hand across the glass and handed it to Siv. ‘That’s Lauren with her nursery group. She was so good with children. We were planning to start a family next year.’
Siv scanned the photo but couldn’t see the little girl. She passed it to Ali.
‘She was always talking about the kids,’ Visser went on. ‘What they’d been saying and getting up to, their funny habits. She didn’t allow herself to have favourites. She said you had to be careful not to show any preferences. Do you have children?’
‘No, I haven’t,’ she said. ‘Did Lauren seem upset or worried about anything recently? Any problems?’
‘She seemed okay, and she didn’t say that anything was worrying her. Apart from a cold last week, she was fine.’
‘Did anyone else know that Lauren was going swimming at Lock Lane yesterday morning?’ she asked.
‘I’ve no idea. I suppose Cora Laffin might have known, or Lauren might have mentioned it to people at work.’ He hunched in his chair. ‘This is so hard. I can’t believe . . . I feel so guilty that I was away overnight. Maybe there was something wrong and if I’d been here I could have intervened . . .’
‘It’s natural to feel like that when you’re grieving. Going back to Sunday night, what time did you leave the Raeburn hotel and get to your friend’s flat?’ Siv asked.
‘Ahm . . . it was about eleven when the meal ended. I walked to Errol’s flat. It only took fifteen minutes and I needed the air and to walk off a three-course meal. So I got to his place around a quarter past.’
‘Did Errol let you in?’
‘He didn’t need to. I’ve got a key. We go back a long way together and I sometimes stay at his flat when I’ve got business in London and it’s a been late night. He’d said he’d probably be in bed by the time I got there because he had a very early flight on Monday. So I let myself in quietly. I went straight to bed. I was exhausted after a full on day.’
‘Did you see him before he left for his flight?’
He shook his head. ‘I heard the door as he was leaving but I didn’t see him. I’d not slept well. Too much food and alcohol the night before, and my head was buzzing. I was hoping I’d secured a couple of promising contracts.’
‘So Errol didn’t actually see you at all on Sunday night or Monday morning?’ Siv asked.
‘No. But that’s happened before when I’ve stayed over. He’s an engineering project manager, works all over the world. Have you spoken to him?’
‘I’ve left him a message.’
‘Me too. As I said, he’s at this retreat. Meditation and yoga. He goes there a couple of times a year, says it helps him de-stress and clear his head. The deal is that you don’t have any communication with the outside world.’
‘How long is he there for?’
‘A couple of days, I think.’
Ali looked as if he was about to speak but Siv stood up. ‘Let’s leave it there for now. We’d like to take a look upstairs and in Lauren’s study.’
‘Help yourselves. Up the stairs, straight on.’
They went up, treading on deep cream carpet. The walls were lined with more photographs of horses. Reaching the landing, they pulled on gloves. It was sunlit from a side window etched in the same pineapple pattern as the front door. A reed diffuser on the window ledge scented the air. Siv opened the study door. It was a tiny box room and smelled of the same scent but much more strongly in the confined space.
These Little Lies Page 7