‘Yes.’
‘And you knew Carol through your husband?’
‘No. I knew Carol before I ever met John. I was at school with Carol. Best friends. Truth be told,’ she leant towards Ash confidentially, ‘I had the hots for Michael. Carol’s brother. Then the poor sod killed himself on his bike.’ She took a contemplative sip of her tea. ‘That’s probably why I ended up with John. He had a look of Michael, but without the sense of fun. I don’t think John ever approved of Michael. And he certainly didn’t approve of Carol. She was a bit of a goer.’ She gave Anita a sideways glance. ‘She probably doesn’t know what that means.’
‘It means she liked to fuck.’
Despite her bronzed complexion, Vanessa blanched, and she was temporarily lost for words.
Again Ash intervened quickly. ‘You used to knock around with Carol. Did she go on your trips to Newcastle?’
Vanessa still sounded stunned when she mouthed, ‘Yes.’
‘And did Carol marry?’ Ash prompted.
She regained her composure. ‘That caused a rumpus, that did. That’s where she met Nicky. Newcastle. Scamps.’
‘Why the rumpus?’
‘Well, Mr Ridley, the butcher, didn’t like Nicky. To be honest, he didn’t like his kids having a good time. Methodist family. Went a bit funny after Michael’s death. Seemed to blame Carol, though it had nothing to do with her. He got more disapproving and she got wilder. Nicky was the last straw. I don’t think they ever spoke after her engagement. Carol moved over to Newcastle and moved in with Nicky. I was the only one from Carlisle at the wedding. There were only four of us at the registry office. Carol, Nicky, a friend of his and me. Went to the Gosforth Park Hotel afterwards. Real champagne. I’d never had it before.’ She pulled a face. ‘And precious little since. My John wasn’t a boozer.’
‘Why was Nicky the last straw?’
Vanessa pursed her lips and a smile of reminiscence crossed her tanned face. ‘Nicky was beautiful. Mad as a hatter, of course. But so charming. He could charm the birds off the trees. He liked the good things in life. But he was only an art student and couldn’t afford them. That’s when he started to go bad. Thieving. Selling drugs. Didn’t touch them himself, but with all those students around Newcastle, there was a big market for that type of thing. He was doing so well, he dropped out of university. I didn’t see much of them after their marriage, though I kept in touch with Carol for a while. She was over there and I was in Carlisle. She got into different things. Like Nicky’s plinky-plonky jazz stuff. Music with no tune. What’s that all about? Nicky was nuts on that rubbish. Obsessed. I was more into Elton John. ABBA, of course.’ She flashed her perfume-counter smile at Anita. ‘Your lot. I’ve seen Mamma Mia three times at the theatre and seven times at the cinema. I’ve got the DVD too. They give you tunes.’
‘And then?’ encouraged Ash, who could see that Vanessa was only too happy to go off at tangents. Goodness knows what her customers had to put up with.
‘Anyway, my social life changed and I started going out with John. We got married and eventually we moved down here.’
‘What was Carol’s married name?’
‘Pew. She became Carol Pew.’
Anita noticed Ash tense.
‘Pugh? P U G H?’
‘No, P E W.’
Ash went quiet. Then he nodded his head at Anita. He obviously wanted her to carry on.
‘Do you know what happened to Carol and Nicky?’ Anita asked.
‘Nothing good. I don’t know what he was up to, but I heard they split up. He left the country for some reason. Escaping the law, no doubt. I think Carol got a divorce. Then she disappeared.’
‘But you heard from her again?’
‘That’s right. I got a postcard out of the blue. It was weird. From Sweden of all places.’
‘Do you still have it?’
Vanessa shook her head gravely. ‘Sorry. Gave it to Graeme Todd.’
Anita felt deflated. She glanced at Ash, who seemed to be consumed by his own thoughts. Anita couldn’t help being annoyed. He should be more involved.
‘What did Carol say on the postcard?’
‘That she was fine. Starting a new life there. Not to worry about her. That was it. No address or anything, so I couldn’t get back to her. Maybe that’s the way she wanted it. Maybe she was just embarrassed by the whole Nicky thing. Fresh start. I don’t mean to be rude, but why the hell would you want to live in Sweden?’
‘We’ve got ABBA.’
‘Fair point, but I wouldn’t want to sit in a snowdrift for nine months of the year.’
Anita couldn’t be bothered to contradict her.
‘Can you remember what the card was of? The picture.’
‘I can, actually. A whole lot of old stones. I thought it was a strange thing to send.’
‘Old stones?’
‘Yeah. Just sticking out of the ground.’
‘In a circle?’ Anita’s mind was quickly indexing all the ancient stone circles which were well-known enough to be on a postcard.
‘No, it wasn’t in a circle.’ Vanessa pondered for a moment. ‘I know. It was like a boat.’
Anita felt that little tingle of excitement in the pit of her stomach that she got when she stumbled across something really significant in a case.
‘I know exactly where that is.’
CHAPTER 32
Anita and Ash were sitting on a bench in the park on Fort Royal Hill overlooking Worcester Cathedral. The dark clouds were thickening and the Malvern Hills had disappeared in a bank of rain that seemed to be heading across the plain towards the city. They were on part of the site of the Battle of Worcester of 1651, in which Oliver Cromwell’s Parliamentarians defeated a young Charles II and his Scottish allies during the English Civil War. Anita was also in a fighting mood by the time they had left Vanessa Ridley’s home. Why had Ash gone AWOL half way through their interview?
‘At least we know the area that Carol Ridley, sorry Pew, lives in. It all fits with Graeme Todd going to Skåne. The stone ship is a place called Ales Stenar.’
Ash didn’t answer.
‘I suppose it’s our equivalent of Stonehenge, but not as old and a lot smaller. There must be about sixty upright stones that are arranged like a Viking ship on a flat-topped hill overlooking the Baltic. It was some place of worship and sacrifice.’ Still no reaction. ‘The point is,’ she said tetchily, ‘it’s near a place called Ystad. And that’s where Graeme Todd was last seen alive.’
Ash pulled out his packet of cigarettes. He silently offered it to Anita. She huffily refused. He slowly took one out himself and popped it in his mouth, but didn’t attempt to get out his lighter.
‘At least we got that out of her.’ Anita couldn’t keep the increasing irritation out of her voice.
At last Ash took out his lighter, flicked it on and drew on his cigarette. His gaze was fixed on the cathedral tower as his exhalation of smoke whorled in its direction. ‘We got a lot more than that, Inspector.’
Anita stared at him in surprise. They’d established the name of the husband and Vanessa’s youthful friendship with Carol, but what else was there?
‘It’s not Carol that struck a chord, but her husband.’
‘Pew. As in the church pew.’
‘Nicky Pew.’
‘You know of him?’
‘Oh, yes. He was involved in a famous case back in the North East.’
‘Were you on it?’
‘No. Just before my time. A year before I joined Northumbria Police. But people were still full of the tale.’
‘I think I will have a cigarette. Then you’d better tell me.’
They were both smoking when Ash started.
‘Nicky Pew was a flash local villain. Very charming and very dangerous, just as Vanessa said back there. Lived the high life in Darras Hall. That’s a posh ghetto outside Newcastle, near the airport. He did all sorts of things, but well-planned robberies were his forte. He had a gang who carried out the ra
ids. The clever bit was that he never did a job on his home turf. So the local cops never had a reason to pick him up. Police all over the country were chasing shadows. He did a job in Essex when I was down there. A fancy jeweller’s in Chelmsford. But no one could ever prove it or find evidence. His house was searched a number of times; and those of his associates. Never found anything. He was too smart. Behind the bonhomie, he was ruthless. Apparently, one of his gang fell foul of him and disappeared. They reckon the bloke is somewhere out in the North Sea.’
Ash took out a second cigarette before continuing. The sky was now almost black above the cathedral.
‘Then he broke his criminal pattern and pulled off a local job. A consortium of jewellers was buying a large consignment of diamonds from Amsterdam dealers. They were to be brought in by ship to North Shields and handed over to a representative of the consortium. It took place at night so as not to attract attention. Anyhow, Nicky Pew somehow got wind of it and must have thought it was too good an opportunity to miss. But something went wrong on the night and a security guard got shot.’
‘So he was now a murderer.’
Ash gave a grim smile. ‘Well, at least a murder that could be proved. Of course, he had to get out. Fled the country.’
Big, fat raindrops began to plop. Ash looked up. ‘Better get back.’
They stood up and made their way as quickly as possible to his Honda. By the time they reached the car, they were both soaked. As they sat inside, the rain streamed down the windscreen and the view in front of them was obscured. Anita took her glasses off and began to wipe them dry.
‘You should take them off more often,’ Ash commented.
She ignored him and put them back on firmly. ‘So, you think that Graeme Todd tracked down Nicky Pew through Carol?’
‘Not that simple.’
‘Why?’
‘Nicky Pew died in 1994.’
Ash brought over a pint for himself and an orange juice for Anita. They were in a pub on London Road. Ash had said that he was buggered if he was going to drive all the way back in the torrential rain. Anita knew it was just an excuse to have a drink. She was quite happy to comply, as they had a lot to absorb after their chat with Vanessa Ridley.
‘Thank you,’ Anita said as he put her drink down on the stained beer mat.
‘My pleasure, Inspector.’
‘It’s Anita. You can call me Anita.’
He gave an exaggerated sigh of relief. ‘That’s better. I didn’t want to upset a female colleague, especially a visitor to our shores. And it’s Kevin.’
They virtually had the bar to themselves, as the rain was keeping customers away. Just one regular, who had obviously been in position long before the heavens opened.
‘Why did you go quiet in there?’
‘Well, because Nicky Pew’s name came up. I knew it rang a bell.’
‘That wasn’t all, though.’
Ash screwed up his eyes as he faced Anita across the table. ‘You’re not just a pretty face. A very pretty face, if that’s not an unacceptable thing to say to a female officer.’
‘It is. Back home you’d be halfway to a gender appropriateness course by now.’ She grimaced. ‘But, as you’ve just bought me a drink and I’ve taken one of your cigarettes, I’ll let it pass.’
Ash pushed his seat back from the table and stretched wearily. He settled back before he spoke. His voice was quiet. ‘The other thing. There was a detective who made his name on the Pew case. It’s not one that I want anything to do with, but we’ve no choice.’
Anita looked at Ash enquiringly. ‘Roller?’
‘’Fraid so.’
‘Well, you’ve got to be totally professional about it. Put your feelings aside.’
Ash toyed with his pint glass. ‘If I’d found someone else since... you know, Leanne, it might be different. But no one has come along.’ Then he snorted. ‘Pathetic, isn’t it?’
‘Not at all.’ Anita could see the vulnerability behind the affable exterior. She felt some sympathy.
‘And you? Have you been close to anyone since whatshisname? Sorry, can’t remember...’
‘Björn.’
‘Since Björn?’
‘Yes. There’s someone.’ The stab of guilt she felt had more to do with the fact that she hadn’t even thought about Ewan for a couple of days. Had she deliberately shoved him to the back of her mind? Maybe it was because he had been trying to tell her something and she hadn’t had the time to let him. Yet it also felt strange that she was acknowledging to a virtual stranger that Ewan was part of her life.
‘Is he in the force?’
‘No. It’s complicated.’ Ash took the hint and didn’t press any further. ‘Anyhow, let’s get back to Nicky and Carol Pew.’
‘There’s not much to tell. After the robbery, a couple of the gang were picked up locally. Roller Weatherley did the collaring. Pew and the fourth member of the gang disappeared. But then a few months later, they surfaced in Australia. I know Weatherley went out there and came back with Dobson.’
‘And what of Pew?’
‘He died in a chase, apparently. I don’t know the circumstances but Weatherley was there when it happened.’
‘Did they ever retrieve the diamonds?’
He gave a hollow laugh. ‘No.’
‘Could Carol have them?’
‘Now that’s a thought. It might explain why Graeme Todd believed he was onto a winner.’
Oxie was an unremarkable satellite town of Malmö. It was an unimaginative urban sprawl of neat, featureless houses, typical of today’s Sweden, thought Nordlund. The twenty-minute drive from the polishus had taken them past the large Jägersro course, the home of the Swedish Derby, and one of the few tracks that accommodated both horseracing and trotting. His wife had enjoyed the odd visit there. He hadn’t been back since her death. Westermark parked the car in front of the swimming pool. They had already been to Andreas Holm’s house. His anxious wife had been alarmed at two detectives turning up at her door. Nordlund had explained it was to do with the death of one of her husband’s colleagues and reassured her that they were just making routine enquiries. She told them that each Tuesday – he worked a four-day week – Andreas took their youngest daughter, Helena, to a baby swimming class at the local pool.
They were greeted by the smell of damp and chlorine as they went through the glass doors of the main entrance. There was a small reception and an area where mothers could feed their young. Three baby chairs were stacked up in the corner. Through a glass wall they could see a small pool. Beyond was the main pool. In the former, an enthusiastic woman was in the centre of a circle of parents who were clutching their offspring. They were singing, and manoeuvring the babies in the water in time with the rhythm of the song. Nordlund watched with a twinge of envy. Hannah had had two miscarriages. He would have loved to have had children. And grandchildren to keep him occupied in his old age.
‘There he is,’ said Westermark pointing at a rotund man with flattened red hair. He wasn’t wearing his glasses. He appeared to be enjoying the session and was joining in the singing enthusiastically. ‘Shall we go in?’
Nordlund went over to the reception desk and asked how long the session was due to last. He was told five more minutes. ‘We’ll wait.’
‘Don’t you think we should just go in? It’ll put the pressure on. He looks the sort of fat shit who molests women.’
‘No, we wait’ Nordlund replied firmly.
Fifteen minutes later, a bespectacled Holm emerged from the changing rooms with young Helena in his arms and a backpack slung over his shoulder. Already, a couple of mothers had set up the highchairs for their babies and were busily feeding them. One yowled as it refused the proffered yoghurt.
‘Andreas Holm?’
Holm stopped and looked at Nordlund. And then at a scowling Westermark.
‘Yes,’ he replied warily.
‘I’m Inspector Henrik Nordlund and this is Inspector Karl Westermark. We’d like a word. Abo
ut your colleague, Greta Jansson.’
Nordlund could see that Holm was embarrassed to be confronted in such a public area.
‘I really should get Helena home. It’s time for her feed.’
‘We could take you to headquarters in Malmö if you prefer,’ Westermark said nastily, conscious that the mothers were paying more attention to what was going on than to their children.
‘We can do it here,’ Holm said quickly. ‘But outside.’
Nordlund opened the door. It was chilly outside and Holm hugged Helena to his chest as the baby began to whimper unhappily.
‘Let’s go to your car,’ suggested Nordlund.
It took a few minutes before Holm managed to secure Helena in the baby seat in the back of the vehicle. He sat in the back alongside his daughter, who had a dummy in her mouth and was fiddling with a woollen doll. Nordlund and Westermark sat in the front.
‘I can understand your reticence talking to the police,’ Nordlund began. ‘Especially after what happened in Sundsvall.’
‘How do you know about that?’
‘We’re bloody policemen,’ said Westermark. ‘That’s what we do. Check up on creeps like you.’
‘It was blown out of all proportion. The woman was delusional. Nearly ruined my life and my family’s.’
‘But do your present employers know about your past?’ Westermark’s smile couldn’t have been more unfriendly.
Holm lowered his head so he didn’t have to look at the piercing blue eyes of the blond detective, who had swivelled round from the driving seat of the car.
‘We’re not here about Sundsvall. It’s Greta Jansson we’re interested in.’ Nordlund’s measured tones managed to take the edge off the hostile atmosphere. ‘Is it true that you appointed her?’
Holm found it easier addressing the older detective. ‘Yes. She was a late appointment. The person who’d been lined up for the job found another school. Probably a better one. But that wouldn’t be hard. Greta was available at short notice.’
‘Did you get close to her? As a colleague, I mean.’
‘Not really. She wasn’t with us long enough.’
‘Was she particularly friendly with any of the other staff?’
Missing in Malmö: The third Inspector Anita Sundström mystery (Inspector Anita Sundström mysteries) Page 18