A Hidden Girl

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A Hidden Girl Page 7

by D K Bohlman


  *

  Burton, despite his outward indifference, was thinking about the exchange long after D.I. Gregg had gone. Not that he had much else to think about in his solitary cell.

  That was bugging him. He really did not like being alone twenty-four hours a day, without knowing when it would end.

  Gregg might find out where the SIM had been purchased, but that trail would be cold. The real worry was that he’d know soon, if not already, that Neuman and Jenna Strick would be obvious targets for him. And if an attempt had been made on Jenna already, well maybe it had been bungled rather missed. In other words, a miss that had become apparent to Jenna. And that little bitch would talk all about it, wouldn't she?

  His mind whirred through tactics to deal with the outcome. Maybe he could co-operate, put them on the trail of those helping him … but only after he’d understood when the next attempt would be so that Gregg would be just too late. That might work to get him out of this piece of grief and Jenna Strick still dealt with. It was all he had anyway. The tricky bit now was getting another communication out to his little helper. He’d need to work on that fast, God knows how close her next try might be. He needed to know exactly when and where this time.

  What’s more, something he’d read in the newspaper the other day had given him an idea.

  Jenna & the real one

  ____________________________

  Jenna was thankful Niamh seemed to trust her enough to agree to see her the following day after they’d both caught up on some sleep. It’d turned out to be a long session with the police, filling in the details of the attack on them the previous evening. Jenna managed to catch an afternoon lecture before heading over to Niamh and Sarah’s flat around five o’clock.

  Niamh buzzed her in and made her coffee. Somehow it was difficult to start the conversation about Sarah, after all the events of the night before. After some mutual licking of their wounds, Jenna made a start.

  ‘So what can you tell me about her course, her study, where she’s been recently and any personal stuff? No particular order.’

  Niamh looked tired and a little overwhelmed by the question.

  ‘I know that’s a lot of questions. Maybe tell me about her course first?’ Jenna thought she’d better leave the personal angle to the end. And then only if she seemed to have opened up at that point. She’d make a judgement on that one.

  ‘She’s doing a Master’s degree. I guess her parents told you that? It’s something about the Jews in the Second World War. But not the Nazi thing, something else. I think it’s what happened in Hungary or Romania. Or both. Not sure of the details. The uni will be able to tell you anyway.’

  ‘OK, that matches what her mother told me. So have you come across anyone who she’s been working with? Or know of them? Anyone associated with her study?’

  ‘Nope. She has a professor guiding her work, of course, as per normal. But I’ve not heard anyone else mentioned. Or met anyone from her department.’

  ‘OK. What’s your work, Niamh, or are you a student too?’

  ‘No, no I’m a dress designer. Finished college a year back. I work here in Inverness. Small company took me on to learn the ropes. Doesn't pay much, but it’s a start, eh?’

  ‘So that’s why you share?’

  Jenna knew she’d overstepped a bit with that question. She looked steadily at Niamh, waiting for a reaction.

  There wasn’t anything odd about her reply, though.

  ‘Yeah, yeah, just can’t afford my own place just yet. Sarah’s fine anyway. Works OK.’

  In for a penny, in for a pound. ‘So, any boy or girlfriends for Sarah that you know of?’

  Niamh’s expression didn’t alter. ‘No, not that I know of. We’ve only shared this place since September. Well, I mean she talks to friends on the phone and goes out on the weekend sometimes. But no one came here. I think her friends were mostly from Aberdeen. She did her degree there.’

  ‘Fair enough. So do you know why she’s gone away?’

  ‘Like I told the police in the first place after her mum reported her missing, she went off, well, it must be ten days or more now, she said to do research but I didn’t ask her about it. She took a suitcase. I know, because I was here when the taxi came.’

  ‘And no idea when she’d be coming back?’

  ‘She said maybe a week, but not sure. We’re not joined at the hip. I just don’t know much about her life.’

  The last statement rang oddly with Jenna. Not just that either. Would she really not have been told where Sarah was going? Or asked? She thought she might want to dig around Niamh too. But not for now.

  ‘OK. Maybe we’ve both had enough today. Look, Calum will be keeping in touch with the police. You want me to tell you if anything comes up? Not sure they’ll bother telling you, only her family probably?’ Relationship-building: it was something Calum kept reminding her about, not that she wasn’t good at it anyway.

  Niamh looked unsure.

  ‘OK.’

  Jenna felt she wasn’t going to get much more but still went back over the events of last night. Horse, dead, flogging, just in a different order.

  She left ten minutes later, with the university professor and Niamh’s past on her mind’s list of the next things to follow up.

  As she arrived back at her apartment, her mobile rang. Calum.

  ‘Sorry, Jen, but the police are assigning someone to watch over you for the moment. I know you’ll hate it but it’s probably for the best. Expect a visit tonight I guess.’

  ‘Okaaay. Well, since someone’s been tapping my mobile somehow, or some other way to know where I was going to be last night, I’m glad, even if it is a bit spooky. I guess I’ll just have to put up with it. If I can put up with you, I reckon anything’s possible.’

  Jenna actually felt pleased. She was glad of the protection … and interested to experience exactly how they would carry it out.

  ‘And … I’ll swap my SIM for an old pay-as-you-go one, just in case my mobile’s still being monitored. I’ll text you the number later.’

  ‘OK. Smart thinking.’

  ‘Always.’

  The professor

  ____________________________

  Jenna hurried out of her second marine science lecture of the day. She had to run across the campus to Professor Robertson’s office, having managed to get thirty minutes with him at short notice. She’d not mentioned she was a student here at the university: she was worried that might water down his respect for her role. She’d dressed more smartly, brushed her hair and applied some make-up for the same reason.

  She knocked on his door and was met with a brisk ‘come in’.

  The office was sparse and what basic furniture there was, was covered with untidy clumps of papers and open books. A soulless room in a new-ish building. It was hard to see where the comfortable base for academic study would come from in here.

  ‘Miss Strick, hello.’

  He looked her up and down.

  ‘You look too young to be a private investigator, I’d say?’

  John Robertson offered her a handshake with a set of sausage-like fingers, which she gripped and shook as firmly as her small hand allowed. A big man, ruddy-faced, thin wisps of reddish-silver hair crawling over a huge cranium.

  Jenna sat down promptly in the hard, upright chair he proffered with a wave of his arm.

  ‘Well, yes, I’m assisting Calum Neuman in this case as I mentioned. I’ve been working with him for three years now, though.’ She silently cursed herself for trying to justify her position.

  He nodded, turned away to look out of the window briefly, then looked back.

  ‘So, how can I help? Been through it with the police, of course. She’s not been in touch with me since before she left. Or since before she said she was leaving.’

  ‘Leaving for where?’

  ‘Oh, I thought you would have known. From the police I mean. Budapest. That’s where she was starting I believe.’

  ‘Well
no the police don’t share everything with us. We do liaise where we can help each other, but it’s early days. Sometimes we’ll synch up after a week or two. All depends on the case. I’d expect the police have checked if she was on a flight for Budapest around the period she went missing … unless she travelled some other way. So exactly what is she doing in Hungary?’

  He raised his eyebrows and looked weary. He looked like he’d been reading for a while and rubbed his eyes under his glasses.

  ‘Background research on her Master’s subject. The Arrow Cross party. Know anything about it?’

  Jenna knew that saying no was going to precipitate a lengthy explanation. And so it did.

  After twenty minutes, Jenna was punch drunk with facts and opinions on Eastern Europe, the end of the Second World War and the persecution of the Jews and the Roma. She finally managed to get him away from his monologue, to wrap up with a few more questions she’d written down.

  ‘Was she supposed to be in touch while on the trip?’

  ‘Not especially, might have expected her to call if she had a query she needed help with. But she has Eszter as her first port of call for that anyway.’

  ‘And who is Eszter?’

  Robertson looked surprised again.

  ‘Oh, she’s our contact in Budapest, from the university. She agreed to help Sarah with local information, contacts, some help with any Hungarian texts.’

  Jenna took some contact details for Eszter. By now, John was looking at his watch. She sensed her time was up.

  ‘OK, well thanks for your help. I’ll follow up with Eszter, see if the police have got far down that route.’

  She dropped her card on his desk. She could feel a trip to Budapest coming soon: hard to see what else she could do in Scotland.

  Smiling, she said her goodbyes, avoiding another handshake.

  *

  Jenna dialled Calum after her lectures were done for the day.

  ‘OK, so I need to go to Budapest. But I’ve no idea how I can fit that in at the moment. University breaks up for Christmas in a couple of weeks so maybe I can fit a weekend in before then, I don’t know really.’

  ‘Just to talk with Eszter? Maybe you can phone her first, see how you get on? Anyway, I should go to Budapest myself if it seems necessary.’

  Jenna imagined Calum could hear her pouting down the phone line.

  ‘Hmm, well, yeah I guess. OK, I’ll try and see what she can give us first then. I’ll call you when I’ve had the first chat.’

  She clicked her mobile off sharply and expanded her pout. Sometimes, just sometimes, he could be a little bit too harsh with her. He was right though, so she pencilled in a call with Eszter that evening. Her inner adventurer was nonetheless still set on a trip to Budapest.

  Calum talks to D.I. Gregg

  ____________________________

  Calum was up late this morning. A quick breakfast of porridge and orange juice, then a shower. He looked at himself sideways on, in the full-length mirror in his bedroom. Paunch still small. Just. Check. Couldn't be bothered with a shave, no clients to see that day so no real need.

  Out on the street to the office, the weather was rough. Winter was closing in fast, the harbour waters were grey and choppy and rain lashed down the street in fluid sweeps. He hurried through the office door, shaking his cagoule vigorously before throwing it over the wooden coat stand.

  Coffee first, then his messages and emails. He still missed Jenna making him that first cup of the day.

  Colombian as usual, steaming hot. He planted it on his Talisker drink coaster and yawned, clicking open his emails. Nothing much there. Disappointing. He turned to the phone which had a couple of messages flashing. Partway into the second one, he sat up straighter and listened more intently.

  ‘ … so, if you can shed any light, call me, OK?’ From a D.I. Gregg in Glasgow. Left yesterday morning, how come he hadn’t picked it up before then?

  So. Alan Burton. Again. Last time, Burton had taken a pot shot at him, for his part in convicting him for a misdemeanour. He got a long sentence for that. This was too much of a habit. He made the link quickly. There was no doubt in his mind that the person who’d bundled Niamh Sampson into her bedroom and attacked Jenna had some link to this message. Proving it might be a different matter, though.

  He called Gregg back straight away and told him about Niamh and Jenna’s experience the other night.

  ‘So tell me again, is Jenna your employee, Calum?’

  ‘Yeah, loosely. She worked for me for a couple of years or so then went off to university this autumn. She just started the other day on a bit of work for me, some research on a new case. She was about to interview Niamh Sampson when she was attacked. The Sarah McTeer disappearance … your guys are on it, yeah?’

  ‘Yep. Not my team, though. Did the interview throw anything up?’

  ‘No, not really. But I think that’s barking up the wrong tree, to be honest. I think this has to do with Burton and I can’t see any linkage between Sarah McTeer and Burton.’

  A thought crossed his mind. Unless he set the whole disappearance case up as a scam. Doesn't feel likely, though. But Calum started to think about that a little bit more whilst he listened to Gregg.

  ‘What is worrying is this woman seems to have had advance notice of Jenna going to the flat. So either McTeer’s flatmate is in on that or someone is leaking or intercepting phone conversations.’

  Calum nodded. Burton had the contacts to do that kind of thing. It all pointed harder towards Burton. ‘Yep, you're right.’

  ‘And sorry to ask but do you have any kind of … personal relationship with Jenna Strick?’

  Calum felt himself blushing. ‘No, definitely not. Never. Why?’

  ‘Just wondering why Burton would want to have a go at her, rather than you?’

  ‘Well, not for that reason anyway, unless he thinks we’ve a relationship. More likely to be that Jenna got innocently involved in the death of his lover, Glenda Muir. It was all part of the same case that he got banged up for in the end.’

  ‘Hmm. OK. Makes sense. So, keep me informed on any new thoughts from your side too eh, Calum?’

  Calum’s mobile buzzed with a text message.

  ‘OK. Need to go … bye mate.’

  He clicked the call off and the message open. Cassie.

  Hope you’re OK. It was nice, our night after the wake. Hope you thought the same. What are you up to today?

  He closed the phone and sighed. He’d felt OK about their night together actually. It felt right.

  It did then.

  But he kept remembering what someone in his past had told him: you can never go back. It’s never the same.

  He hadn’t felt the need to repeat that night and he’d been nervous that Cassie might feel differently. Texting him might be the closure of that episode or a need to extend it. He wasn’t sure which right now. One thing he did know was he’d need to tread carefully. Cassie was a sensitive soul underneath that brisk manner of hers. He didn’t want to cause her more grief right now, Ellie’s death was enough for both of them to handle. He decided to reply later, the same day but not straight away. The middle ground … what he usually chose.

  Jenna finds Eszter

  ____________________________

  ‘Hello? Yes, this is Eszter Borbely. Who is this please?’

  ‘My name’s Jenna Strick. I’m calling from Scotland. I’m helping Sarah McTeer’s mother look for her daughter. You’re aware she’s missing?’

  ‘Well, yes, I am. I was working with her when she disappeared.’

  Eszter sounded a bit indignant. Jenna reset her tack.

  ‘Yes, I understand that. It must have been a real shock. We’re just helping her mother Susan understand more … she’s really worried as you might imagine.’

  ‘Yeah, of course.’

  ‘Do you mind telling me what you were doing with Sarah the day or two before she went missing?’

  ‘You are police?’

&nbs
p; ‘No, no a private investigator. Susan McTeer hired us. We can provide this evidence if you need?’

  ‘Ermm, well OK. I can tell you something then I think, it’s OK. But I don’t know much anyway. We had been doing some research, mostly in the big library here in Budapest. A few days. I have been helping with this, there is contact between our two universities, you see. Well, it was going OK, Sarah was doing some work on her own too, we met a few times, discussed progress and next steps for the work. Then one morning she didn’t arrive at the library as we planned. I called the hotel and they didn’t really help, but after another day I rang again. They checked their records and her room but she wasn’t there. And not since. I told this to the police, of course.’

  ‘Of course Eszter. Did they say if there was anything missing from her room?’

  ‘No. I believe her things were in the room mostly. Clothes, bathroom things, some of her papers. She had a blue leather notebook, they didn't find that in the room or her iPad or rucksack. So she must have gone out somewhere, I suppose to do some work.’

  ‘Unless someone took them, of course. Colour of the rucksack?’

  ‘Oh yes, I see what you mean. Grey. Light grey.’

  ‘Did the police say if the room door had been forced?’

  ‘The police didn't say, but the hotel manager told me he had to let himself in to check, and that nothing seemed wrong … just that she wasn’t there.’

  ‘OK. Thanks, that’s helpful. One thing I’d like to know more about though … what exactly is the research around?’

  Jenna got the full works on Arrow Cross, and it became clear after fifteen minutes or so of Eszter talking and Jenna squeezing a few directing questions in, just how knowledgeable Eszter was on the topic. It all checked out with what Sarah’s professor had outlined.

  ‘So you're saying she’d made some follow-ups, some interviews off the back of the work she did with you?’

  ‘As far as I know only one visit to anyone … a man called Marton. Marton Kovacs.’

 

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