He relaxed back in his chair. “I see no issue with that. In fact I think it’s a great idea and don’t know why I didn’t think of it first. Who will you send?”
“I’d not got that far,” I confessed as I regarded his team through the doorway. It was something I needed to think about.
18
Caroline Manders’ slim fingers were unable to stay still. She fiddled with her hair then moved to some imagined mark on the polished wood of the dining table where we were seated, until she settled on rubbing a stain I couldn’t see from the hem of her school jumper. The house was old and large. There was a living area as well as the dining room we were in. From here it was impossible to see the rest of the house, but it had the feel of an old build with lots more room than modern day builds offered. It was immaculate with a minimalist feel: beige carpeting and magnolia walls. A large, overbearing framed photograph of the family adorned the main wall, taking centre stage. On the adjacent wall was a print of a Claude Monet painting and these were the only two items in the dining room other than the table and chairs. The family photo showed Donovan and Evelyn Manders, Caroline’s parents, sat straight on high backed chairs, with Caroline on the floor between them. The photograph looked to have been taken by a professional, but it made me uneasy. I wondered at Caroline’s place in the structure of her family as she sat on the floor at her parents’ feet. It felt cold and detached and reminded me of a children are seen-but-never-heard era.
Now, Donovan Manders sat at the head of the table, straight and stiff. Barely a movement from him, other than the regular blink of his eyes. He’d been the epitome of polite and courteous when we arrived, but had said very little since.
I shifted in my seat and looked at Caroline who was sitting uneasily on the edge of the covered carver chair at the opposite end of the table to her father. She was a small girl with large owlish spectacles perched on a narrow nose, so narrow; I was unsure how she managed to keep her glasses in place without them sliding straight off her face.
Her mother fussed with an obvious uncertainty about the circumstances they found themselves in. Evelyn Manders wanted to protect her daughter and that protection looked to include a need to protect her from us. She also knew something bad had happened to Caroline’s friend and had told us they wanted to help. I could see this conflict caused obvious upset for Evelyn as she flitted from the kitchen to the dining area we were seated in and back again. First came the cups of tea and then plates of biscuits and cookies, her stiff, spotless half apron bowed tightly around her back, creaseless as it hung from her waist. Her hair was pulled back tight away from her face, which gave a slight impression of a face lift. She fluttered about and smoothed every surface until I could bear it no more.
“Mrs Manders, would you like to sit down with us so we can talk to Caroline. It would be really helpful.”
She brushed the velour of the chair she hadn’t long vacated until all strands seemed to be laying in the same direction again, and sat back down. Caroline watched silently.
I looked at her now. “Do you know why we are here, Caroline?”
Her mouth moved but it was difficult to make out her response. “About Rosie.”
I lifted my voice, hoping she would mirror me and follow suit. “Yes, she went missing didn’t she?”
A faint, “Yes.”
I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees. Clive was holding a relaxed stance on the other side of the table. “Tell us what Rosie was like the weeks before she went missing.”
Caroline swallowed and looked at her father who gave a barely perceptible nod.
“She was okay. Maybe a little quieter than usual. She never told me anything.”
“Did she have any other friends she did talk to?” asked Clive.
Caroline and Evelyn turned their heads toward Clive. “No. I don’t think so anyway. I never saw her with anyone.”
“Did she have anything new you had never seen before, Caroline?” I asked, wondering about gifts from someone new in her life.
Another glance at her father, another nod. Of encouragement? A speck of something removed from the table by Evelyn.
“I didn’t see anything and she never showed me anything.” She rubbed at the invisible mark on her jumper, her fingers working at the hemline, rubbing and rubbing.
It was time to stop. “It’s okay, Caroline. Thank you for talking to us.”
Evelyn Manders jumped up before I had chance to move.
“Thank you for your time, Mr and Mrs Manders, we appreciate it.” I stood, pulling my business card out of my pocket. “If Caroline thinks of anything else, or if you or your husband can think of anything, please do give us a call, no matter how small or insignificant you think it is.”
Donovan Manders unfurled his tall frame from the chair, stepped forward and took the card proffered to his wife from my hand. He made a sharp sight in his well-cut dark grey suit. He leaned down, picking up the briefcase at the side of his chair. “Thank you for your considerate manner, Detective Inspector. It’s been a difficult time for Caroline and we were cautious about allowing further questioning, but I am happy we could help.”
It sounded rather like a dismissal. I smiled. “As I said, if anything comes to mind, please call.”
Evelyn Manders, removed the plate of cookies from the table and, head down, took them into the kitchen where she busied herself putting them away. Clive walked around the table, placed a hand on Caroline’s shoulder and smiled.
“Give us a call if you need anything.”
Donovan Manders strode out of the dining room, down the hallway, past the doorway to what I presumed was the living room and opened the front door. His look direct.
Digging into my trouser pocket I removed another work card and handed it to Caroline.
“This has my mobile number on. If you need me, call.”
She nodded, putting the card in her trouser pocket, then went about cleaning the hem of her jumper. We took our cue and left the family to their business.
Before Aaron and I headed back to the city we debriefed the meetings we’d had. Clive and I spoke about the visit with the Manders, while Aaron and Michael talked about the school visit. I voiced my concerns that Caroline could be hiding something from us. “She was pretty closed and needed consent from her father before she spoke. There seemed to be a tight rein about her this morning. It could of course be genuine concern for her well-being and the effects something like this will have on her, but I got a strange feeling from the home and the family. Her body language was edgy.”
Clive nodded. “Something was definitely up with Caroline and her mum. Did you see how fast Evelyn got up to let us out? It reminded me of a jack-in-the-box I got as a kid.”
“She was certainly unsettled with our presence.” I pushed a loose strand of hair out of my eyes as I tried to read my notes. “We need to contact the school again and make sure she’s okay and no major welfare issues come up. How about you, Aaron? Any joy with any of her other friends, enemies, school teachers etc.?”
“Pretty much the same as we’ve already heard. She was a good girl. Things started to go a bit awry without people understanding why, but no one took the time to find out what was happening and then next thing, she’s gone. The one conversation of interest though was with the school nurse, Liz Turney. She stated Rosie had come in and asked for a contraceptive advice chat. These can be held within school in confidence and they aren’t obliged to tell parents.”
“Great. Kids are being given the ability to have sex, with apparent adult consent, and it’s acceptable to keep this info from the parents. Shall we ask Rosie’s parents how they feel about that?” It wasn’t so much a question, more of a rant. “Great confidentiality. Let’s give the kids their own lives attitude and look where it leads us, picking up dead children from behind restaurant waste bins in the middle of the fucking night. Do we get to see the records from the visit or is it still confidential?”
“Liz is gathering the papers
this morning and will email them over to us later today,” replied Aaron, ignoring the verbal annoyance I had relieved myself of.
“I’m sorry, I get so frustrated by people who fail to see the consequences, the mess we have to pick up. And I hate it when it’s kids.”
Clive nodded. “I know, don’t worry. We’ll get statements from all the kids who were friends with her and noticed a change. Teachers too. And we’ll get a medical authorisation form signed by Rosie’s GP and get her notes, and again, send them over to you. I’ll also get the crime scene techs to go through Rosie’s bedroom and let you know if anything comes of it.”
“Thanks, Clive. We need to head back; I appreciate your help on this one and will speak with you again soon.” Straightening the papers I had been sifting through I banged the edge of the file against the table, then smoothed down my trousers as I stood. I felt as though I hadn’t slept for two days and I imagined I pretty much looked that way. I needed to get home and stand under my shower for a very long time. First though, I knew I had to meet Rosie’s parents following the identification and pop in to the mortuary to see if Jack was free to attend a briefing in the morning. It was always good to get everyone involved in the investigation together and see what they brought to the table. Making decisions without knowing what everyone knew down to the small details was a fool’s game.
19
The drive back to Nottingham was quicker than the original drive across. It reminded me of the way childhood day trips to the coast worked. Memories of long impatient journeys with siblings sharing the backseat shifted through my mind. The sound of bickering, of who had the most sweets, who could see the most red cars on the roads and who could see the sea first. Always a competition. My younger sister Zoe felt the strain to compete, never content to be the second one to do anything. The journey out was a constant battle between us. Mum and Dad would be worn out trying to appease us, settling into a silent wait for the trip to be over and our energies to be used up on the beach.
The trip back home from the family days out were, by contrast, subdued and quiet, always faster or so it seemed, due to the lack of fighting. The quality family time had, once again, been and gone and was no more than a distant memory, even a few days afterwards. Especially for me. Memories I held on to with a mixture of love, sadness and an overall frustration. I stared out of my passenger side window, at other motorists caught up in their own worlds. Life passing by in a haze of grey asphalt. Now the childhood memories felt disjointed and contaminated and I tried to push them to the back of my mind.
20
Aaron and I managed to find George and Anne Green in the Queen’s Medical Centre with Nima and Chris. The world had now completely imploded on them. The confirmation of death would bring a closure and conclusion to the worry and fears keeping them awake at night. At least now they knew she would be returned to them. There would be a period of waiting, for test results and if an offender was likely, her body had to be held for a period of time for the possibility of a defence post-mortem. She would be going home though and they could give her a funeral and a proper goodbye. One they should never have to give, but now they could do it and Rosie would always be close by.
I had thought they looked fragile when I saw them last night, but today, every last shred of anything holding them together was gone. Shadows walked where they used to be. Fibres of people who once existed and once loved a vibrant child they had brought into the world. I took a deep breath and approached.
“Mr and Mrs Green. I’m so sorry. If there is anything you need to ask me or anything I can do for you, then please, don’t hesitate to let me know.” I waited. The Greens held on to each other, blending into one unit as they fought to stay upright in this cruel world. Anne Green dragged her sunken eyes across to me.
“Do you have the person who did this to our daughter, Inspector Robbins?”
My body tensed. An involuntary reflex to a question I didn’t want to answer for these people. Not as things stood now. Knowing who the girl in the mortuary was hadn’t helped identify the killer but had served to increase the potential suspect pool and we had no idea how she had gotten from Norwich to Nottingham. I gathered myself and spoke. “I’m sorry, Mrs Green,” she stood her ground, gripping the arm of her husband, “but the investigation is new off the ground. We do have two teams working on your daughter’s investigation though, one here and one back in Norwich. We’re working very hard to follow all leads and we’re hopeful to identify and arrest Rosie’s killer.” I softened my tone and put my hand on her arm. “Chris will be with you during the length of the investigation and we’ll be in daily contact with him.” I knew it wasn’t enough. Fishing in my pocket I pulled out a business card with my contact details on and handed it to her, knowing as I did so, that I was asking for trouble, giving a grieving parent direct contact details. It was what they had Chris, their FLO, for but I couldn’t help myself. Their sorrow and pain was so raw and tangible. She took the card, dark liver spots marking the back of her pale, shaking hand. It was all I could offer. It was all we had. Mrs Green sank lower into the arm of her husband, and Chris and Nima took them out of the hospital and back home, towards a life that would never be the same again. It was going to be a long and painful process for them and it left me with a heavy heart.
The incident room was a hive of activity. Extra staff had been drafted in to help with the inquiry. This was a sign the investigation was a big deal. Money wasn’t thrown at an investigation unless it was something that could come back and bite the force hard. We had gained a couple of Indexers to work the HOLMES, Diane and Theresa, whom I already knew from previous jobs we had worked. They were good at what they did. Dave Morgan, a local intelligence officer, was working with us full time. Dave knew the area well and knew the people, or rather, he knew the criminals and other persons of interest who lived here. I leaned over his shoulder as I passed his desk and saw names in boxes and intelligence reports covering the monitor.
“We’re keeping you busy then,” I commented.
“Oh yeah, with some of the nicest people out there I see,” he replied.
We had grown into a massive manhunt unit overnight and they were all under my roof.
Martin, Sally and Ross were having five minutes, huddled in a corner with mugs in their hands, steam rising, indicating they were freshly brewed and my team hadn’t been stood there all afternoon. I approached them. Sally looked tired and Ross looked nervous, as though he’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.
“Productive trip?” Martin asked with a relaxed ease he always had about him.
“Yes. We made contact with some of Rosie’s friends, found out she was interested in contraception advice and had her identified by Mum and Dad.”
“That’s good then,” Sally said. “Not that it’s her,” she added, “just we know what we are working now and her parents don’t have to keep wondering.”
“I knew what you meant. It is good.” I looked around at them. Martin, a few years off retirement, relaxed and never fazed, still with his great people instincts and drive for the job, Sally, a great detective, always reliable, but carrying some issues I wasn’t quite comfortable with and Ross, young and keen, but maybe a bit too keen sometimes. I knew who I was going to send to Norwich for a few weeks, or however long it took us to identify an offender.
“Something has come out of today we need to discuss. Shall we go and grab a few chairs in my office?”
They looked at each other then walked with me. Once seated I got straight to the point. “We need to send someone to the Norwich side of the investigation.” Sally was the one who dropped her head. An instant sign she didn’t want the job. It grated my nerves a little, probably because I was tired, but she was usually the first to volunteer for something and this was important. It was unusual for her. A good job she wasn’t top of my list to go. “On a short term basis,” I added “to bring the two sides of the investigation together, so neither of us misses something crucial.”
“Martin…” he nodded his consent before I’d even got the words out. “I’d like you to go. It shouldn’t be for too long, but it gives us eyes and ears on the investigation over there and we need the smoothness of having one of our own in there with it.”
“No worries. It’s a nice town, so I’ve heard, and as long as they don’t put me up in any old dump while I’m down there, it’ll be fine.” He smiled as he said this. I knew Martin. He’d do a good job and then he’d enjoy the social life afterwards. A few beers with the team after a long shift. His age didn’t slow him down, he loved life and his job and he made the most of both.
“Thanks, Martin. Get in touch with finance and sort something out you’re happy with.”
He walked out of my office with an easy smile and I caught the tail end of a comment about peace from the wife. I’d met his wife and they had a good relationship. No kids but a couple of unruly Labradors. Typical of Martin to make the most of the situation, to see an upside. He was a great guy to have on the ground but his paperwork left something to be desired. I needed to make sure I got regular updates from him.
21
At her desk, Sally put her mug down, woke the monitor and logged back on. But she just stared at whatever it was that she had last been working on. She had let Hannah down. She could see it in her face. The disappointment. Disappointment. It’s one of the hardest of emotions to deal with. Anger, pity, hurt, you can deal with those in some way, but disappointment means you’ve been held in some previously higher regard and you, no-one but you, did anything to lower that regard. And now Hannah was disappointed because she hadn’t volunteered to go to Norwich. Not only had she not volunteered, but she’d made it clear she didn’t want to go.
Shallow Waters (Detective Hannah Robbins crime series Book 1) Page 5