by J J Marsh
His forehead creased in surprise. “Of course not. We have two fully functioning lifts. Come this way.”
Rather than bare concrete covered in cement dust, the police roof garden had a pleasant ambience and a reasonable view across the city. Tables and chairs were scattered around the space, divided by artificial plants and latticework screens. Detective Sahlberg indicated the table in the centre and placed his briefcase on the seat between them. Before Beatrice had even opened her handbag to retrieve her notes, a young woman placed a tray in front of her, with two coffees, a bottle of water and a bowl of grapes.
Sahlberg placed his hands together. “I want to be honest with you, Ms Stubbs. There are lots of things about this case which are new for me, including the presence of a private detective. I had to do my homework on the protocol. I also did some research on you. As someone who held a very senior position with the London Met, you probably understand far more than I do about how this works.”
“That’s not strictly true,” said Beatrice, warming still further to the man. “Each case differs and every police force has its own way of dealing with interested parties. The reason I’m here is to assure you that I will not get underfoot, withhold information or try to use anything I learn for personal benefit instead of solving this case.”
His eyes crinkled once again. “Thank you. Can we start with what you’ve discovered so far? I know you’ve been here over twenty-four hours and I doubt you wasted any time.”
With every attempt to be concise and factual, Beatrice related the contents of her meetings that day, adding the theoretical leads she and Theo were pursuing. While she spoke, Sahlberg nodded and made notes, but his expression said he was learning nothing new.
“As an ex-police officer, Detective Sahlberg, my mind immediately reaches for police resources, an option that is no longer open to me. For example, if this had happened in London, I would have a team examining the CCTV footage to see if there are any clues as to Valpuri Peura and Samuel Pekkanen’s movements after they left the demonstration. I’ve spoken to both families and thanks to Karoliina Nurmi, put some questions to her co-financiers. My assistant has spoken to a few of the Gaia Warriors and in about an hour’s time, he will be talking to the producer of Channel 6 news. So far, all I’ve managed to dig up is a bunch of theories and the extremely concerning information that Samu Pekkanen has asthma. You’re very generous to offer me the floor, but to be completely honest, nothing I’ve learned will be of any use to you.”
Sahlberg opened his briefcase and pulled out two grey paper folders. From the first, he withdrew a plastic sleeve, containing a document. “Protocol differs from force to force, that is correct. Here in Helsinki, we are open to working with journalists, private investigators and members of the public. The only requirement we have is a confidentiality agreement. Whatever information I share with you must remain private. By that of course, I mean private between you and your assistant. Are you willing to sign?”
Beatrice had a pen in her hand before he’d even withdrawn the paper. “Absolutely. You must understand how important it is for me to find, or help you find, these two young people. I have no interest in working with the press or earning anything more than a good reputation. Karoliina Nurmi thought I could add something. I’m not yet convinced she’s right, but I am determined to keep trying. There, signed and dated. I can get my assistant to do the same, if you wish.”
Sahlberg replaced the document in the plastic sleeve and opened his grey folder. “That’s a good idea. I will make arrangements to leave a copy downstairs at reception. Perhaps he will find time to pass by the station tomorrow morning. I am able to share a limited amount of information with you. You asked about the closed circuit television recordings. They do reveal a lot about what happened at the centre of the violence. I can say no more about that as it is an active part of our investigation. What is no longer of interest is the footage showing Valpuri and Samu leaving the area. We were able to locate them leaving the square and turning into Unioninkatu. Unfortunately, the street has many cafés and bars all with, how do you say that in English? Like a screen overhead?”
“Awning. You mean to protect the customers from the sun? Yes, that’s called an awning.”
“How do you spell that?” he asked.
Beatrice obliged and watched him write down the word in his careful hand.
“Awning,” he repeated. “Rhymes with morning. Thank you. The street has awnings which block the view of the pavement. After they left the square, it’s impossible to see where they went. We do have people watching the apartment block where some of the Gaia Warriors live. We are 95% certain none of them returned on Saturday.”
Now it was Beatrice’s turn to request a spelling. “Could you tell me the name of the apartment block, and maybe the address? It’s possible my assistant already discovered that information but… belt and braces, you know.”
The blond head looked up from his scribbling. “Belt and…?”
“Braces. It means taking no risks if you want to keep your trousers up. Can I ask if you are making any enquiries with the security firm hired by Jouko Lahti?”
Sahlberg gave an immediate shake of the head. “As I said, some elements are still confidential. What I can tell you is that we are looking closely at two people present at the protest on Saturday morning. They are not members of the Gaia Warriors and neither registers on any database we have of environmental activists. We believe they may have been employed to cause trouble at the event or even shadow the missing teenagers. It’s possible they may lead us to where they are being held. I can say no more, Ms Stubbs, but I will keep you informed. I hope you will do the same for me.”
Beatrice drained her coffee and nodded emphatically. “You can count on that. I have your details and if I find something I believe to be significant I will most certainly share it with you. Thank you for your time and your trust. I wish you all possible luck in this case and if I can help at all, I would consider it an honour.”
On the walk back to the harbour in still-bright sunshine, a recognition of mutual respect lifted her spirits. She would consult with Theo this evening and throw everything she could into solving this case. She meant what she had said to Detective Sahlberg and hoped very much she could take him at his word.
Chapter 15
The Great Western service from Paddington pulled into Exeter St David’s almost exactly on time. Tanya’s head bobbed from side to side, trying to spot Catinca as passengers disembarked and flowed along the platform. Being a mere five foot two, Catinca was easy to lose in a crowd. Tanya need not have worried. Her attention was drawn to a Great Western Railway employee wheeling a baggage trolley laden with suitcases, accompanied by a miniature version of Holly Golightly, guiding his progress with a constant stream of instructions.
The little Romanian looked up at the ticket barriers and saw Tanya waiting for her. She waved a hand like a cheerleader and her worried frown relaxed into a smile. Once the overloaded trolley was squeezed through the luggage barrier, Catinca squealed and embraced Tanya, the poor man she had cajoled into helping her forgotten. Tanya widened her eyes at the number of cases and bags on the trolley. She had rarely seen so much luggage unless accompanied by a family of five through Heathrow Airport.
“What on earth is all that?” Tanya asked.
“Everything I need!” Catinca replied. “Let me look at you.” She drew a circle in the air with her index finger, indicating Tanya should turn around.
Tanya obeyed, with a sense of skittishness.
“Looking hot, mate. This dress is gonna look one million dollars, no kidding. Oi, you been using cream I told you? What’s with the worry lines?”
Tanya took the helm of the trolley and began wheeling it towards the exit. “Long story, I’ll tell you in the car. Good job I brought Gabriel’s Land Rover, we’d never get this lot in my Fiat.”
En route to the village, Tanya explained how her best laid plans for the week before her wedding had spun out
of control.
“I understand why Mum and Marianne are doing it, I really do. In their minds, they are offering to help and upping my game. Except they are not. Everything Gabriel and I wanted has been dismissed as not good enough for our guests. We wanted a basic ceremony at the registry office, followed by a marquee for the reception on the village green with a simple supper of cheese, biscuits and fruit. The whole idea was to be as eco-friendly as possible, not just in an environmental sense, but reflecting Gabriel’s work, the village, the forest. Oh, you know.”
Catinca faced Tanya, her hair scooped up into a style reminiscent of a Walnut Whip. “Yeah, I know, mate. It is how I designed your dress. Simple, elegant, perfect foil for green background. Don’t tell me they’ve been messing with the decor.” One fist rested on her hip.
“Not just the decor, the music, the wine, the table decorations and even, can you believe it, the hen night. My family have made everything ten times more complicated than I wanted it. And every time I try to rein them in, they get hurt and resentful because they think they’re doing me a favour. It’s driving me mad, Catinca. And now Beatrice has taken off to somewhere in Scandinavia to escape from it all. Gabriel’s not interested in the planning phase, Dad is keeping his head down and I’m fighting for the wedding I want, all on my own.”
Catinca reached out to clutch Tanya’s shoulder. “If you’re gonna cry, can we pull over? We got very precious treasure in the back.”
Tanya laughed and shook her head. “I’m not going to cry. Scream, shout, punch something, perhaps, but no tears. I’m so glad you’re here. I need someone in my corner who’ll stick up for me and tell them that I’m not deluded. The other reason I’m happy to see you is I’m wildly excited to try on the dress.”
For several minutes, Catinca did not respond. She leaned back in her seat, drawing her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. “The dress is centrepiece of whole ceremony. You and me planned colour scheme, atmosphere and whole look. Nobody, and I’m serious, nobody messes with that. We’ve been planning this for half a year now and we know what we want. Listen, Tanya, I’ve been mixing with designers and fashion people and creative sorts so I know how to throw artistic tantrums. Leave it to me. Stop worrying, I got it.”
Despite her assertion, tears welled in Tanya’s eyes and she reached for Catinca’s hand. “Thank you. That means so much to me.”
“You’re welcome. Eyes on road now.”
For the duration of the wedding celebrations, Catinca was booked into The Angel, along with several others of the inner circle. Before checking her guest in, Tanya drove to Matthew’s cottage in order to drop off the majority of the boxes and bags. Then the moment of truth: trying on the dress. Just Tanya, Catinca and the dream they had envisioned.
As always, Matthew was delighted to see Catinca and welcomed her with open arms. He assisted in lugging bags and boxes into the spare room and offered to fetch Luke from school to give ‘the ladies some time alone’, as he put it. Tanya leaped at the offer and bustled upstairs with the most special delivery of them all.
Catinca unzipped the garment bag and unwrapped the contents as if she were revealing gold bullion. She removed the protective cover, peeling it away from the dress beneath. Tanya clasped her hands to her clavicle, her lips parted in anticipation. Catinca held up a hand for patience.
“If you’ve got your bridal shoes and undercrackers here, you can try it on now. If not, we wait till tomorrow. When you put this on, it has to be perfect. No grimy bras or scabby trainers, we gotta get this right.”
Tanya gulped. “Everything is here. I brought it all because this is where I’ll be getting ready on Saturday morning. We’re ready, so may I? May I try it on?”
With a regal nod, Catinca gave her assent and with nervous giggles, the two of them began assembling the accessories. It took them a quarter of an hour to dress the bride-to-be and only when she was completely satisfied did Catinca remove the throw she’d chucked over the mirror.
Tanya blinked at her reflection, scarcely crediting the woman in the mirror was herself. She could hear Catinca’s voice but paid no heed to the words. She looked, as Catinca had promised, a million dollars. Champagne-coloured silk clung to her body, creating a flattering hourglass shape. The neckline was off-the-shoulder, with frothy layers of lace interspersed with tiny red rosebuds and green ivy leaves. At the knee, the dress flared out, falling in folds to her ankles. She looked like a champagne flute, bubbling over and decorated with wild strawberries. It was more than she could have hoped.
She held out her arms to embrace Catinca. “You are a genius! I can’t believe you took my scrappy ideas and turned them into this!”
Catinca returned the hug and stood back with a critical eye. “It works, I reckon. Don’t forget, this is without hairdo, flower circlet and bouquet, but we can get the idea. Shows off all the curves and lights up your complexion. You look beautiful, Tanya. My first bridal gown and I knocked it out the park!”
“You did, you really did. I don’t want to take it off, but I’d better put it away. If Luke comes charging in here with Monster Munch dust all over his sticky fingers ...”
Catinca locked the door. “No one comes in here. Nobody but me and the bridesmaids can see dress before ceremony. Quick, let’s put it away. You sure there’s nothing you wanna change, now? Last chance, mate.”
Smoothing her hands over the fabric, Tanya shook her head. “Nothing. It is perfect and actually really comfortable. Unzip me, then, and we’ll hang it in the wardrobe till Saturday. What about your dress?”
Catinca gave her feline smile and put a finger to her lips. “Surprise, innit. But don’t worry, it will complement theme. No upstaging from me. Or any-sodding-body else, I will make sure of that.”
A door slammed downstairs and Tanya could hear Matthew whistling. They packed up all the bags and boxes and made their way downstairs, discussing the evening ahead.
“Ah, there you are. How did it go?” he asked.
“This woman is the best designer in the world. I couldn’t be happier,” sighed Tanya.
“What marvellous news! Shall we celebrate with a cup of tea and a cream cake?” Matthew switched off the boiling kettle and stood looking around for the teapot.
Catinca pointed at it on the counter behind him. “Yeah, I got time for a cuppa, then I better get to The Angel. Gotta prepare for tonight. Where’s Trouble?”
Matthew poured hot water into the pot and replaced the lid. “In the garden, gnawing on a bone. At least I hope she’s only gnawing and not burying the thing. She makes a dreadful mess of the flowerbeds. Tanya, would you pass the milk?”
Tanya did so, puzzled by her father’s remark. “I think Catinca meant Luke, not the dog. Is he in the garden as well?”
Matthew looked at her, his expression blank. A jolt of fear shot up her spine. “Luke, Dad! You went to get him from school. Where is he?”
“Oh, good heavens!” Matthew exclaimed. “Luke, of course. I was supposed to be making him a sandwich. He must have gone into the garden.”
Tanya raced across the hallway and out through the conservatory. Digging a hole in the flowerbeds with the dog was her son, his face dirty and uniform showing evidence of grass stains. Her heartbeat slowed to normal and she reached down to stroke his hair. “You pair of mucky pups. Luke, come wash your hands and say hello to Catinca.”
His head snapped up and he scrambled to his feet. “Where is she? Did she bring Beatrice back? Are Will and Adrian here too?”
“They’ll be here tomorrow. Probably with Beatrice,” she said, without much conviction, but Luke had already pelted away into the house.
While Catinca was being led into the garden by a small boy in school uniform, Tanya accepted a mug of tea from her father. She refused the gingersnaps.
“I’m not putting on another ounce now I’ve seen that dress.” She softened her voice. “Dad, did you know Luke was in the garden? Or did you just forget?”
A frown of co
ncentration flitted over Matthew’s face. “I got back to the house, picked up the post and gave Huggy Bear a bone, then I started to make a sandwich for Luke but must have got distracted making tea and clean forgot about him. Very poor behaviour on my part and I apologise. Juggling too many things at once, I’d say. Won’t happen again, promise.”
She kissed him on the cheek. “Not to worry. It happens. Are you two going to be OK this evening? When I asked you to babysit for my hen night, I thought he would keep you company because Beatrice would be coming with us. Have you heard from her at all?”
“Not in any detail. A few brief messages to assure me all is well, but as yet, no estimated date of return. She always does this when she doesn’t want to answer questions. Texts or emails but no phone calls. Still, it’s only Tuesday.”
A shriek of laughter caused them both to peer out into the garden. Catinca was attempting a move of some kind which Luke found hilarious. Tanya had no idea what they were doing and judging by his bewildered expression, neither did Matthew.
“Granddad, look! Catinca is rubbish at cricket. Even worse than you!”
Tanya was pleased her fiancé was having dinner with his mother. Gabriel was completely relaxed about her going out with the girls, just as she was happy that he’d have his boys’ night tomorrow. But with Luke staying over with Matthew, she didn’t want her future husband to spend the evening at the cottage alone, especially as she had booked a room in The Angel.
She finished her make-up, put on her denim jacket and checked the playlist she had assembled on her phone. Tonight was all about the 90s and remembering the party girl she used to be.
He whistled when she came down the stairs. “That’s exactly how you used to dress when I first had a crush on you.” His fingers traced her face. “All those years we wasted.”
“Believe me, in those days I was a horrible little cow. It would never have lasted. These days, I’m more mature and have better taste in music, not to mention fashion. Only now do I deserve someone like you. If you like, we can have a once-in-a-blue-moon date night? I’ll dress up in stonewashed denim and we can listen to the Spice Girls. Whatever turns you on.”