Siv sighed. ‘Okay. After the meeting I’ll follow up with the Valencia police.’
‘The nursery staff are all clear except for Simon Rochford,’ Lisa Flore said. ‘There’s a report on file from September 2015. A neighbour called us at two in the morning and reported hearing a blazing row, shouting and screaming. Two officers visited the house but Simon and Lynda Rochford were both okay. They acknowledged there’d been a row over money but they’d cleared the air. That’s it. They divorced in 2017, so it looks like the rows continued. Nothing else on him though. But he has no confirmed alibi for early Monday morning. He lives on his own and says he woke at eight and left for work at nine.’
‘Okay. We need to talk to his ex-wife and then to him again. He did have a disagreement with Lauren about her views on his menus, so I want to know if his temper ever went beyond the verbal.’ Patrick was looking lit-up and waving a finger. ‘Patrick, what have you got?’
‘I’ve just been around Seaton’s riding route and met the warden at Halse woods.’ He told them what Kitty Fairway had said. ‘I’ve just had the details on Seaton’s phone and the news is that they found deleted text messages from last Saturday that prove he’s a lying toerag.’ He scrolled on his phone. ‘Here we go. Lauren to Seaton at 11.15:
‘Can we meet tomorrow @ Halse woods? Want to discuss something. Need advice. Ade’s in London.
‘Seaton to Lauren at 13.00: Not sure that would be wise. What’s the problem?
‘Lauren to Seaton at 13.45: Can’t talk now. Please, could we meet? Not for long. Just feeling worried.
‘Seaton to Lauren at 15.00: Okay. Sensory garden, half three tomorrow. Make sure you delete all messages.
‘So Seaton lied about when they last arranged to meet, but Ms Fairway said he was a no show. Must have been too worried.’
‘Or couldn’t get away from his wife,’ Ali said.
Siv thought that was the likely reason. ‘But we have a sort of confirmation of where Seaton was on Monday morning. Seems unlikely that another man of similar build was riding where he claims he was, so I think we can marginalize him as a suspect. That leaves us with what was bothering Lauren and what she needed advice about.’
Lisa pointed to the board. ‘Why wouldn’t she have told her friend, Cora Laffin? If she was worried, I’d have thought she’d have turned to a woman friend.’
‘Maybe that was a ruse she was using to try to get Seaton involved with her again.’ Ali stretched his legs out, his chair creaking under his weight.
‘Playing the needy woman? Possibly, but that’s not the impression I have of her. Cora told me she’d been busy recently and hadn’t seen much of Lauren, so maybe Lauren didn’t want to bother her. We need to talk to Seaton again.’
‘I checked in with Cora’s boyfriend. He confirms her account of Monday morning,’ Lisa said.
Siv nodded. ‘Anything else from Seaton’s phone, Patrick?’
‘So far, nothing else to or from Lauren since 10 February, which fits what he told you. One more thing. I spoke to Jerry Wilby. About a year ago, Lauren met him on the way into work and said she thought a guy had been staring at her while she was swimming. But then she thought she might have startled him. That was it. Nothing about what this guy looked like, or where it happened and she never mentioned it again.’
‘Hardly helpful,’ Siv said, shrugging. She looked at Steve. ‘What have you got for us?’
Steve Wooton had a heavy cold and had been blowing his nose and coughing throughout the meeting. He sucked on a lozenge as he gave his update. ‘CCTV for Caterpillar Corner nursery shows Jenna Seaton opening up at 7 a.m. on Monday morning. Forensics back on the scissors from the nursery reveal no blood. No weapon found in search of the river. No hoof prints around the Lock Lane area, confirming what Seaton’s told us. Results are in on the car parked near Rimas’s on Monday morning. The tyre prints show wearing on the outer edge of the front left tyre. They were all Michelin. I’d say that was our killer’s vehicle. If we can find the car, we can match that front left tyre.’
‘Big if,’ Ali said through Steve’s new coughing fit. ‘Haven’t you heard that coughs and sneezes spread diseases? You should catch yourself on and go into quarantine.’
‘It’s not as bad as it sounds,’ Steve wheezed.
‘Yeah,’ Ali said dubiously. He turned to add his piece. ‘I talked to Nick Shelton, owner of the angling club and the land at Lock Lane. He met Lauren about her campaign over the sign and tried to reason with her. He and his wife had her round for a cuppa in February but she wouldn’t budge. He painted a picture of a moralizing, solemn woman, but then he was never going to take to her. He gave his movements for Monday morning. He was at home, catering to his B&B residents with his wife or driving his son to school.’
‘Anything in from the media release of the child’s photo?’ Siv asked.
‘Nothing,’ Patrick told her, lowering the iPad stylus he’d been playing with. ‘Not even any weirdos.’
Siv updated them about her meeting with Bartel Nowak. ‘He says that he never met Lauren and as far as he knows, neither did Rimas. He was working in Pevensey on Monday morning and says he stayed there Sunday night.’ She got up and stretched. ‘Right, tasks. Ali, can you see Seaton and question him about this proposed meeting that he bailed out of? Check the colour of the horse he rides as well. I want someone to verify Bartel Nowak’s whereabouts Sunday to Monday and verify that Granger doesn’t own a car or didn’t hire one for Monday. Also revisit Rochford and the ex-wife. Steve, I think you should go home. You look as if you’ve got a temperature.’
* * *
Every evening, the cleaners opened the internal window blinds of her office. She had no idea why. Judging from the undisturbed layers of dust, it wasn’t to clean them. She closed them as she walked into the office and reached for her ringing phone. She’d eaten her sandwich too quickly and had given herself a fit of hiccups. She swallowed some water as she answered.
‘Inspector Drummond? This is Errol Todd. You’ve been trying to reach me.’
‘Finally! Are you still in Spain?’
‘Just. I’m at Valencia airport, waiting for a flight to London. I’m sorry I haven’t been in touch sooner but I’ve been at a retreat and my phone was switched off and locked away in a safe.’
‘Okay. At least you’re in contact now. I need to speak to you about Ade Visser. Can you talk now?’ She reached her desk and swung her chair out.
‘Yes, I’ve about fifteen minutes until the gate call. Ade’s left me loads of messages. He said Lauren’s been murdered.’ He sounded nervous, his voice strained.
‘That’s correct. She was murdered on Monday morning. Have you spoken to Mr Visser yet?’
‘No. I thought I’d better ring you first, like you asked.’
Too right. ‘Mr Visser said that he stayed at your flat on Sunday night and that he had a key.’
‘That’s right. Ade stays now and again, usually when he’s working in London and it’s a late one. I gave him a key ages ago.’
‘Did you see Mr Visser when he arrived at your flat?’
‘No, I was asleep. He said he’d be late and I wanted an early night because I had to get a flight first thing Monday morning. He knows where everything is.’ He’d started to squeak and cleared his throat.
It would be hard to come out of days of quiet meditation and find you’d been bombarded with calls concerning a murder. ‘Mr Visser stated that he didn’t see you at all but that he heard you leaving to catch your flight. Did you see him?’
There was a long pause. ‘Look . . . this is really difficult. I don’t know what to think. This has all come as a real shock, actually.’
‘Okay. Take your time. I can understand that. It’s important that you’re honest with me, Mr Todd. This is a murder enquiry and another person died as well.’
More throat clearing, some rustling noises and the line faded, as if he was on the move.
‘Mr Todd? Are you there?’
‘Ye
s. Sorry, I wanted a bit of space. Bit public here. Okay. Ahm . . . is Ade in trouble or something?’
Siv took a breath. What did he bloody well think? ‘Mr Visser’s wife was stabbed to death so he has certainly got troubles, wouldn’t you say? I’m sure you can see that I have to clarify his whereabouts. It would help if you would just tell me what’s on your mind. Clearly, there is something.’
‘Yeah. I didn’t sleep well Sunday night. I never do before a journey. I’d taken a sleeping pill but it didn’t knock me out fully, just made me hazy. I, ahm . . . I heard Ade get up about three and he went out. I looked out of the window and saw him get in a cab. I didn’t know what was going on. I thought maybe he wasn’t well and just wanted to go home.’
‘At three in the morning, with no transport?’
‘I thought maybe he was getting the cab all the way to Sussex. People do those long journeys by cab sometimes. I almost phoned him to see if he was okay but I didn’t want to make a fuss and I was feeling groggy from the sleeping pill so I crashed out again.’
‘What time did you leave to catch your plane?’
‘My cab came at six.’
‘Mr Visser hadn’t returned before you left?’
‘No. I looked in his room and he wasn’t there, and his overnight bag was gone. Look, I don’t want to get Ade into any trouble. I expect he was just feeling rough and wanted his own bed.’
‘That’s fine, Mr Todd. You’ve been very helpful. I’ll need you to make a formal statement when you get back. Are you going to be in London for the time being?’
‘Yeah, for a couple of weeks. What do you mean, a statement?’
‘We’ll contact you. Please don’t phone Mr Visser now. Just get on your flight and come back. Do you understand?’
‘Yes, okay. But what’s happening with Ade?’
‘I can’t discuss this any further at the moment. I’m instructing you not to phone him. Now just board your flight and I’ll talk to you again when you’re back home.’
She ended the call, hoping he’d do as he was told, and sped into the main office. Ali was out and Patrick was texting on his phone.
‘DC Hill! Put the phone down. I want you to take a uniform, find Ade Visser straight away and arrest him on suspicion of the murder of Lauren Visser and Matis Rimas. Got it?’
He shot up. ‘Yes, guv.’
‘Phone me as soon as you have him with you.’
As Patrick hurried out, she rang Ali. ‘I spoke to Errol Todd. Visser lied. Todd saw him leave in a cab at three in the morning on Monday. I’m bringing him in. Get back here, please. I want you to interview him with me.’
She leaned over her desk and googled trains from Victoria to Berminster on weekdays. The earliest left at 4.15 a.m., arriving at 6.15 a.m. Earls Court to Victoria wouldn’t take long by cab, not at that time. Visser could easily have got back in time to kill his wife and Rimas, although she wasn’t sure he could have cycled to Lock Lane that fast. Perhaps he’d got a cab to drop him somewhere near there, but then how did he get back to fetch his bike? The jigsaw piece wasn’t right, it didn’t seem to fit.
Chapter Eighteen
Visser looked washed out but calm — almost accepting, Siv thought. He’d have known that this might happen but would have been hoping that Errol hadn’t clocked his absence. He’d accompanied Patrick quite willingly and had said no to a solicitor, which surprised Siv. She’d have thought he’d be a stickler for his rights. Ali poured three beakers of water and Siv flipped her notepad open.
‘We need to clarify a few things with you about Sunday night. You told me that you stayed at your friend Errol Todd’s flat in Earls Court. You said you arrived around 11.15 p.m. and left at 6.30 a.m. on Monday morning.’ Visser was looking down at the table and rubbing the tops of his thumbs together. ‘Is there anything else you want to tell me about that night?’ She could see him trying to work out what she knew.
He looked up finally. ‘Have you talked to Errol?’
‘Just answer my question. Do you need to alter what you told me in any way?’
His right foot jiggled on the floor. He reached for his water. He had beautiful hands, strong, with well-shaped nails. She supposed you might need capable hands to control a horse. She’d never sat on one, although she’d often thought it would be a great way to get into the landscape. Mutsi had once taken up riding because one of her boyfriends owned a stable, but of course Siv and Rikka had never been invited. This case seemed to be full of active people spending their time outdoors swimming, horse-riding, fishing. The long silence extended. She was happy with that. Silence could speak volumes. Ali was rubbing at his knee with a finger and she wanted to reach over and grab his hand to still him. Someone hurried along the corridor outside, talking rapidly into a phone.
‘I don’t know what to tell you,’ Visser finally said.
Ali cracked his knuckles. Little explosions. ‘Give it a try, why don’t you?’ he said. ‘You’re doing my head in. You’re the one who’s given us two weeks to find the person who killed your wife. We’re sitting here with you listening to ourselves breathe instead of being out there getting on with the job.’
Visser flinched. ‘This is a nightmare. I can’t . . . I don’t know if I can do this.’
Siv gave him an understanding smile. ‘It does sound as if there’s something you want to tell us. As DS Carlin has pointed out, time’s wasting while we’re in here.’
He shifted his chair and looked around the room. He tensed and for a moment, she thought he might make a run for it but then he sank back.
‘Okay. I panicked when I talked to you. I’ve been in such a state of shock, I couldn’t think straight. I didn’t stay at Errol’s until half six. I couldn’t sleep. I called a cab and left around 3 a.m.’ He drank more water, licking his lips.
‘Right. Now we’re making progress. So where did this cab take you?’
He shot a glance at Siv. Embarrassed, shifty. ‘This is very difficult.’
‘I’m sure. Where did you go in the cab?’
‘Look . . . could I talk to DS Carlin on my own? Please? I’d find it easier.’
‘Why would it be easier?’
His neck was reddening. ‘It just would. You know, man to man. It’s very awkward. I feel so uncomfortable talking about it in front of you.’
Siv lost all patience and snapped at him. ‘Mr Visser, you’ve lied to us and as such you might have seriously hampered our enquiry. If you’ve got something to say, say it to both of us and make it quick. I haven’t got any more time to waste.’
Ali thought she sounded like Ms Moynihan, the only teacher he’d been frightened of at school. She’d been firm and kind but the minute you crossed her you wished you hadn’t. Don’t give me that old nonsense, Ali Carlin. I wasn’t born under a cabbage.
Visser put his hands to his face and then started mumbling. ‘I took the cab to a flat in Pimlico. I, ahm . . . there’s someone there who I visit now and again. About once a month. I was there from half three until half six. I did catch the 7.10 from Victoria. That was the truth.’ He seemed to deflate in front of them.
‘Go on,’ Siv said coldly. ‘Who do you visit in Pimlico?’
‘Her name is Serena Davis.’
‘I can hardly hear you, Mr Visser. Why were you visiting Ms Davis?’
As if she didn’t know. Once a month in the early hours of the morning. Not for tea and biscuits.
‘She’s . . . we have a long-standing arrangement. She supplies . . . ahm . . . she supplies “activities.”’
‘Activities. What kind? Ludo? Scrabble? Basket weaving?’
‘BDSM,’ he whispered.
‘So you’re changing your story. You were with Ms Davis for three hours while you engaged in these BDSM activities.’
‘Yes.’
‘What’s her address?’
‘Eighteen Bancroft Street. Flat five. Does anyone else have to know this? It won’t become public, will it? There’s my job . . . my friends. Errol . . .’
He looked terrified but Siv had little sympathy. ‘If Ms Davis confirms what you’ve told us, there’s no reason why anyone should know your private business. It would have been so much easier if you’d informed us of this straight away.’
‘I’m ashamed,’ he whispered. ‘I’ve always been ashamed. It started in my teens. I’ve tried to stop so many times. I feel so filthy afterwards. I feel filthy all the time because I think about it and when I’ll next be able to do it. It’s like needing a fix. I didn’t want it to come out. It’s so sordid. I let Melody down. I was going there when she was dying. Lying to her and saying I had a work commitment when I was indulging myself in London and she had only weeks to live. And now I’ve let Lauren down.’
Ali felt a peculiar mix of shock and excitement. Visser’s revelation fascinated and disgusted him. The guv hadn’t batted an eyelid.
‘Did Lauren know about your visits to Ms Davis?’ It wasn’t relevant but Siv was always intrigued by the secrets people kept from each other — or were willing to accommodate.
He flinched. ‘God, no! No one else has ever known. Although sometimes I wondered if she knew I was keeping something from her.’
Well, she was certainly keeping some things from you. ‘We’ll need to verify your story, Mr Visser. You’ll stay in custody until we’ve spoken to Ms Davis. We’ll inform your mother.’
‘How long will you keep me here?’
‘We can detain you for twenty-four hours initially. Are you sure you don’t want to see a solicitor?’
‘I’m sure. I’ve told you the truth now.’ He looked ill. Sweaty and chalky.
Ali handed him back to the custody officer, grabbed an apple from his desk and then joined Siv in her office, tossing it from hand to hand.
‘Now we know why he isn’t asking for a solicitor,’ Siv said. ‘He wants as few people as possible to know about his secret addiction.’
‘I wonder what exactly Serena supplies him with?’
‘I think I can tell you that.’ Siv was busy tapping on her keyboard. ‘Here you are. Serena of Pimlico. A curvaceous blonde.’ She read from the screen.
These Little Lies Page 18