Dead Jealous

by Helen H. Durrant

  “You’ll want to come to the house?” She touched his arm.

  Calladine turned to her and nodded. “There’ll have to be a search. Forensics will be heavily involved. I’m afraid they’ll more than likely make a mess.”

  “No worries. I’m up to my eyes in plaster and rubble anyway.”

  “I’ll get it organised. Thank you for bringing these to us. For not simply thinking they were junk and slinging them in the bin.”

  “I was curious. I thought it was ashes when I saw the container, so no way could I do that. The jar is old, you know, Royal Doulton Flambé Ware. Quite collectable.”

  * * *

  Calladine went straight to acting DCI Brad Long’s office. He was sitting at Rhona Birch’s desk, shuffling papers and stuffing toast into his mouth. “Hate this bloody job,” he spluttered at Calladine. “Birch should get a medal for sorting all this crap every week.”

  “Do you recall the Jessica Wilkins case?”

  Long stopped shuffling. “Course I do. I’m not a completely heartless bastard, you know.” He looked up. “Years ago. Kid went AWOL from Leesdon Park and was never seen again.”

  Calladine sighed. To the point, he supposed, if a little reductive. Long hadn’t worked the case, so was not privy to the heartache the others had suffered. “I think her ashes have turned up.” Calladine put the ginger jar on the desk.

  “Watch it! That’s my breakfast,” Long blustered, and moved the plate of toast and mug of tea to one side.

  “A woman brought it in. She found it wrapped in this blanket here. It was bricked up behind the fireplace of a house she’s renovating.”

  Long peered into the jar. “Then again, this stuff could be anything. Chunky, aren’t they?” He gave the jar a little shake. “When my granny was cremated we scattered her up by the res on the Huddersfield Road. Her ashes were pale grey and very fine.”

  “Careful or they’ll be that many different sets of prints on the thing, it’ll take forensics an age to sort.” Calladine moved the jar out of Long’s reach. “If this is Jessica, then whoever burned her would not have had quite the same facilities as the crematorium, would they, Brad? In any case, that will help. Forensics will need any pieces of bone or teeth they can find, in order to prove identity conclusively.”

  Long shuddered. “Come on then, what makes you think it’s her?”

  “This.” Calladine showed him the hairslide. “This and Jessica’s clothing were well documented at the time. Plus the blanket. Apparently the child couldn’t sleep without it.” He picked it up. The colour had faded over time but it still had the appliqued gold teddy on one corner. “This is exactly as Josie Wilkins described.”

  “In that case, better get it to the Duggan pronto. Are you going to tell the parents?”

  Calladine hadn’t thought that far ahead. Jessica had lived with her mother, Josie. Her father, whoever he was, hadn’t been around since Josie told him she was pregnant. He knew Josie Wilkins still harboured hopes of her little girl turning up alive. This would take her right back to that dreadful time. Rake it all up again.

  Long nodded slowly. “You’ll have to tell her. The Duggan will need a DNA sample.”

  “There will be samples from the original investigation.”

  Long indicated the slide and blanket. “Even so, DNA from that lot in there will take a while,” he nodded at the ash. “She’ll have to identify the items before we even begin.”

  “What if this is some elaborate hoax? Someone playing with Josie’s emotions? The woman is delicate, she has been since it happened.”

  “Tell the woman, Tom,” insisted Long. “You can’t protect her. One loose word and the press will be all over this like a plague of locusts. We definitely don’t want her finding out that way.”

  Long was right. Calladine would go to the Duggan, drop off the objects, and then go round to the Wilkins home on the Hobfield.

  “How are you doing with the Flora Appleton case? Shouldn’t you be out on the Hobfield, wringing answers out of the lot of them?”

  “We’ve made a start, Brad. Uniform are going door to door, asking where Flora was seen last. I’ll be back there myself later.”

  “Want Thorpe to lend a hand?”

  No, he didn’t! They might be short-handed with Rocco missing, but Thorpe would be more of a hindrance than a help. Apart from which, Ruth couldn’t stand the bloke. “We’ll be fine, thanks. Ruth is back this afternoon. By then we’ll know what we’re looking at.”

  “One thing’s for certain, the kid didn’t climb into that boot and die all by herself,” Long said with a sigh. Calladine got up to go. “Birch will be back any day,” added Long. “Getting a flight later this week.”

  “She found her son, then?”

  Rhona Birch had taken compassionate leave to chase after her son, who’d gone missing in Australia.

  “Took a while. Apparently he’d taken off with some girl he’d met. She found him in Queensland, in some resort, soaking up the sun.”

  Calladine smiled. “She’ll have loved that.”

  Chapter 2

  Ruth Bayliss was in a café on the High Street, drinking coffee with Dr Sebastian Hoyle. He’d rung and asked to meet up. He’d done so a number of times since Imogen’s death. He was still concerned about the team, and wanted to hear how everyone was doing after that dreadful event.

  Imogen Goode had been killed a few months ago, while working on a case She’d taken off on her own after receiving information she considered important. Unfortunately it proved to be her undoing. She was attacked and killed. The team was left devastated by her loss.

  Ruth understood Doc Hoyle’s concern. He knew them all well, particularly her and Tom. Before the days of the Duggan Centre and the outsourcing of pathology and forensics, it had been Doc Hoyle and Julian Batho who’d always looked after the team’s needs. When Leesdon police began to use the Duggan, Doc Hoyle retired. Some retirement! He was now working flat out as a locum at the health centre.

  Ruth liked talking to the doc. It helped her to get stuff off her chest. It was a bit like counselling, but with a friend. After what had happened to Imogen, Ruth felt she needed a bit of therapy. Imogen’s death was still a definite no-go topic in the incident room.

  “How’s Tom doing?” Hoyle asked.

  Ruth smiled. “You know what he’s like. He pretends that we’re all carrying on as normal, but it’s tearing him up inside. I’ve known him a long time, and we’ve been through a lot together. He keeps all the emotional stuff well hidden. He’s doing the brave face thing for our benefit. But in many ways it might be better to have a talk, a bloody good weep, and get it all out.”

  “You’re a good team, Ruth. It’ll come right. The way you’re feeling, the way Tom is, it’s a natural reaction. What happened to Imogen was dreadful. Her death has hit the team hard. It is going to take a while.”

  He was right. The last three months had been difficult. “Stupid, I know, but I still expect to see her sitting there at her computer like she always was. I’ve had to bite my tongue several times. I’ve found myself wanting to ask where she’s got to. Rocco is just about holding it together. He’s not his usual happy self, nowhere near. He’s gone off to Wales on an IT course. Not that he needs the training. He was just glad to get away, if only for the change of scenery.”

  Doc Hoyle nodded. “What about Tom and you?”

  “There is no Tom and me. We work together. He’s a mate and we’re close. Nothing else.”

  “He kissed you. You don’t talk about it anymore, but you did tell me at the time. It rattled you.”

  “History, Doc. Now let it drop. He’s far too old for me, for a start.”

  Ruth didn’t want all that raked up. It was embarrassing. The doc was making a mountain out of a simple gesture. She and Tom had been utterly shocked at finding Imogen like that. It was the particular situation, and way off the scale of what was normal behaviour for both of them.

  The doc smiled. “He goes out with women y
our age all the time. He’s not bad looking either. Perhaps that kiss jolted something.”

  “You think I secretly want an affair with Tom Calladine? That I’m even refusing to admit it to myself?” Her eyes widened. “That’s utter rubbish. Where would it leave me and Jake, for a start?”

  “How are you and Jake?”

  She turned slightly, avoiding his gaze. “At each other’s throats mostly,” she confessed with a sigh. “It’s become obvious to me that Jake considers his career far more important than mine. He does less and less around the house or with Harry. These days the little lad could be forgiven for wondering who Jake is!”

  “The blip in your relationship will have a lot to do with the strain you’ve been under of late.”

  She frowned. “If ever you decide to give up general practice, there’s a career waiting for as a psychologist. I’m not daft, I’ve considered that, but there’s more to it.”

  He took hold of her hands. “I’m your friend, Ruth, and I’m very fond of both of you. Cut Jake some slack. Talk to him.”

  “I would do that happily if he’d talk back.”

  “I’m sure he loves you, Ruth. Try a little harder.”

  At that moment, Ruth’s mobile rang. It was Calladine. She cursed under her breath. “I’m supposed to be off this morning.”

  “A body has been found on the Hobfield. A teenage girl. She was left in the boot of a car to rot. But apart from that, I’ve got a tricky one and could do with some help.”

  Ruth rolled her eyes at the doc. “Tricky in what way, Tom?”

  “You won’t remember. It was before your time. But seventeen years ago a little girl went missing from Leesdon Park. The child was never found. Someone’s brought in a pot of ashes and objects which I recognise as belonging to her. They need dropping off at the Duggan, and then I’ve got to go and tell her mother.”

  “And you want me to come along and hold the hankie?”

  “Josie Wilkins and the teenage girl’s mother both live in Heron House. I thought we could speak to both of them. It might have happened years ago, but giving Josie Wilkins the news will be every bit as difficult as telling Dolly Appleton that we’ve found her daughter’s body. Josie is going to take it hard. She’s been living in hope all this time. Like any mother, she will never have given up hope. But this is going to make it all fresh again. Fresh and final.”

  “All this time, and she thought the child was still alive?”

  “Yes, I think she did.”

  “Okay, pick me up on the High Street. I’ll wait in the library car park.”

  * * *

  Ruth got into the car beside Calladine. She wasn’t smiling.

  Calladine looked at her. “I wouldn’t have rung but I need you with me on this. The Flora Appleton case has priority, but the Jessica thing needs sorting too. The investigation into the child’s disappearance will be reopened, so you need to be up to speed. Plus, Josie Wilkins will be shocked that proof of Jessica’s death has finally surfaced.”

  That was an understatement. Josie would be devastated. Over the years she’d never given up hope. Josie had done everything she could to keep her child’s disappearance in the public eye. She had been interviewed by the press and had made numerous appeals on the local news. She’d absolutely refused to believe that her child was dead.

  “You worked the case?”

  “Every gut-wrenching minute of it.”

  “Did anyone see what happened? Did witnesses come forward? Was there any DNA evidence or a sighting to help?” Ruth fired the questions at him.

  He shook his head. “There was nothing. That’s what made it so hard. I don’t mean in terms of the work. We’re all used to the hard slog. I’m talking about trying to rationalise what had happened. Kids don’t just disappear, not in broad daylight with dozens of folk around. People see, they remember, and sooner or later they come forward. But not this time.”

  “The people you spoke to — reliable?”

  He nodded. “One of the people present in the park that afternoon was Monika.”

  “Your Monika?”

  “My ex, Monika. Ballsed that one up good and proper, didn’t I? She wasn’t even my Monika then.” He heaved a sigh. “It was a lovely sunny day. Monika had gone to the park with a colleague. They’d taken a few of the residents from the care home. Monika was sitting on a bench, keeping tabs on them. She’s an intelligent woman. She had her eyes and ears open, but even she saw nothing.” Calladine thought for a moment, then came to a decision. “I’m going to ask her to walk me through it again. Do no harm.”

  “Jessica went missing from Leesdon Park?” Calladine nodded. “It’ll have been busy. Summertime you say, school holidays. The place must have been chock-a-block with kids playing, and mums watching them.”

  “Yes, that’s what people said at the time. What’re you getting at?” He knew the tone. Ruth was in thinking mode. She had a shrewd, analytical mind and Calladine valued her input.

  “If everything was as you describe, then someone must have seen something, stands to reason. But if not . . .”

  “What are you trying to say?”

  “Perhaps there was nothing to see.”

  Chapter 3

  “I did think of that at the time, you know. I’m not entirely stupid. We looked into the possibility that Josie might have made the whole thing up,” Calladine said.

  Ruth looked at him. “And?”

  “Although no one on the park could recall seeing anyone take the child, they did see Josie with the pushchair. The thing was bright pink. You could hardly miss it.”

  “But you did challenge Josie Wilkins’s version of events?”

  He nodded. “Yes, of course we did.”

  “And you thought her story was watertight?”

  “At the time, yes. There were plenty of witnesses who saw her there with the pushchair.”

  “And now?”

  In truth, Calladine was confused. His most abiding memory of the case was the relentless workload. That, and getting no results, whatever they tried. And they had tried everything. “I wasn’t in charge of the investigation, remember. I was a mere sergeant back then.”

  “Hey! Thank you very much.” She slapped his arm. “Believe me, there’s nothing mere about being a sergeant.”

  Calladine managed a smile. “What did trouble me was Josie’s fluctuating moods. On the day it happened she was exactly like you’d expect. A missing child. It’s a parent’s worst nightmare. In general, though, Josie Wilkins was something of a troublemaker. She drank, mostly in the pubs at the weekends. Once she’d gotten over the initial shock I expected more aggro from her, but there wasn’t any.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “After the initial shock, Josie became very subdued. Given her temperament, I expected fireworks. But she hardly seemed to be involved at all. She didn’t ask about the exhaustive searches that we made. She didn’t seem to be interested in the updates we gave her. She has an older sister, Tracy. Back then, Tracy lived with Josie and the child. She was definitely the dominant one. And as the investigation progressed, Tracy became more and more in control at the Wilkins home. But, looking back, I suppose she had to be. Josie was a mess. Given what had happened, and what she was like. I don’t know why I expected anything else really.”

  “But she must have been in a state, surely?”

  “Yes, she was. The day it happened she had to be hospitalised. She collapsed when she was being taken home from the station. Shock, the doctors said.”

  “Were both women upset about what had happened?” Ruth asked.

  “Of course they were, but Tracy seemed more concerned with her sister’s wellbeing than anything. She hardly let Josie out of her sight for weeks.”

  “Perhaps she was afraid that Josie might harm herself.”

  “Maybe, but thinking about it now, I reckon something else was going on.”

  “Like what?” Ruth asked.

  “I don’t know, and that’s the problem.
But looking at the case years later, I can see things more clearly. Stuff that didn’t add up. Things that should have been of more concern to the team than they were.”

  Ruth looked at him. “What you’re trying to say is that Josie’s behaviour wasn’t right.”

  “I’m not sure. It was right on the day the child disappeared. She gave a statement, told us all she could remember. But even then I thought she was holding something back. I tackled her about it and got a mouthful from Tracy for my trouble. To be honest, Josie was in no fit state. She must have been devastated. Apart from trying to take over, Tracy was a great help in many ways. She was a huge support to her sister. I doubt Josie would have made it through without her.”

  Calladine had gone over those few weeks many times. Given the absence of witnesses, evidence or sightings of the child, all he had been left was the family: their reactions and attitudes. And in Jessica’s case, ‘family’ meant her mother, Josie, and Auntie Tracy. There were no other relatives, and no one, including Josie, knew who Jessica’s father was. Tracy had told the investigation team that her sister had been seeing a number of men at that time. Most of them had been working on the construction of the new industrial estate on the outskirts of town. When the work was done, they moved on.

  “But you did get Josie’s side of the story. Who and what she recalled seeing the day the child was taken. If anyone had taken a particular interest in the little girl.”

  “After a fashion. Josie was in shock, so she was sedated for most of the time. Something else Tracy organised. I went round one morning to check on a couple of details, and Tracy had the GP there. As the weeks and months passed, Josie tried to get her act together. Eventually she did a couple of appeals on the local news and the radio. I think she got a taste for it. A piece was written about her in the paper. She campaigned for ages to keep the public aware of her plight. But none of it made any difference. No one came forward, so eventually she gave up.”