by Carol Wyer
‘You police?’
‘Yes. DI Ward.’
‘She’s in a bad way. I’m taking her back home to Sheffield with me. I thought we’d leave this afternoon after the liaison officer has visited. Beatrice needs to get away from here for a few days at least. Is that okay?’
‘Yes. It might be better. Make sure you leave Tanya all your contact details.’
The woman gave a brief smile in acknowledgement and returned to the boot of the car to offload a couple of bags of shopping.
Before she headed back to the station, Natalie decided to drop by the ChicKids boutique. The shop was situated off a cobbled market square, the front window still dressed for Easter with fluffy chicks, rabbits and multicoloured eggs positioned between plastic coats and open umbrellas in green, orange and yellow, bearing prancing unicorns.
A bell tinkled over the door as she entered, almost knocking into a rail of party dresses immediately to her left, next to which were shelves of coloured T-shirts stacked in separate compartments according to colour. The back wall of the shop held rails of colour-coordinated tops, trousers and skirts, and beyond that, a changing room. To her right was a half-moon counter, behind which stood a young woman.
‘Can I help you?’
Natalie showed her ID. ‘Is this your shop?’
‘Yes.’
‘This is a long shot, but I wondered if you recall selling a lemon-yellow, chiffon dress with puffed short sleeves and a ballerina skirt to a woman called Mrs Sawyer, two years ago. Her daughter, Ava, wore it to a birthday at Uptown Craft Centre and Farm. You might remember Ava. She went missing that day.’
‘I couldn’t forget. The whole community was affected. I was one of the volunteers who helped look for her. I remember the dress too. It was in our sale at the time. We’d had trouble selling that model. Mrs Sawyer chose it. Ava was with her and she expressed a preference for a pink dress we had in the window, and to be honest, I think she’d have looked better in the pink one, but it was full price. Her mother put her foot down and said she didn’t want to spend a fortune on a dress that’d get worn once or twice, and the yellow one was within her budget.’
‘Do you have a photograph of it anywhere?’
‘Gosh, no. Sorry. That model went out of fashion quite some time ago and we’d had it for well over a year.’
‘How about this dress?’
Natalie had cropped the photograph of Audrey and showed the woman just the dress.
‘Definitely not had anything like that and I don’t recall seeing that style in the collections this year.’
‘Thank you anyway. If you happen across anything that looks like it, would you give me a call?’
Natalie backed out of the shop, the overhead bell tinkling as she shut the door. Her eyes fell on the umbrellas in the window. Leigh had loved unicorns. She was less into them nowadays. Now she was into gadgets, music, jewellery and make-up. Thirteen going on nineteen. Her thoughts jumped swiftly to Olivia. She’d had a toy unicorn too. Natalie brushed the memory away. She had a job to do.
Ian called with news that Mark Randle was refusing to come to the station.
‘He says he has nothing to do with Ava Sawyer and doesn’t wish to discuss why he was at the craft centre the day she went missing.’
‘Does he indeed? Give me his address and ask Murray to meet me at his house. We’ll tackle him there. If he’s still reluctant, we’ll bring him in.’
‘He’s at work. B&Q in Uptown.’
‘We’ll meet there, then.’
The B&Q store stood at the far end of a retail park on the edge of Uptown. The car park was fairly empty with most cars parked outside the supermarket at the opposite end. Natalie strode towards the store, Murray keeping pace with her as she filled him in on her intentions. ‘He’s on the late shift. Doesn’t finish until seven. It doesn’t seem too busy so I’m sure we’ll be able to get five minutes of his time. If he kicks up a fuss, we’ll take him in.’
‘Understood.’
The automatic doors opened with a swish and they walked into a blast of cool air, easy-listening music and row after row of aisles. Natalie hated DIY stores. It was never a simple process to purchase goods. Signage might indicate the aisle’s contents but each lane seemed endless and contained floor to ceiling shelving all packed with merchandise. David wasn’t a fan either and certainly no DIY enthusiast. If anything required repairing in their house, it was invariably David’s father who they rang.
There were no operatives at the checkout and the store appeared unmanned until they moved deeper into the cavernous space and spotted an employee stacking large bags of gravel.
‘We’re looking for Mark Randle,’ said Murray.
‘Garden section,’ came the reply. ‘Through the double doors at the end of the building.’
A man in his thirties with a goatee beard, eyebrow stud and a large, black, circular earring in his left ear that distended the lobe was holding a length of coiled hosepipe, aiming the spray over a group of large shrubs in pots, and yawning. He started when he spotted Murray’s police uniform, dropping the hose which continued to gush water over the floor and his feet. His head turned towards the exit behind him and he made a quick movement in that direction only to be brought to a standstill by Murray’s shout.
‘Stay where you are, Mr Randle.’
The man pivoted 180 degrees.
‘We want to ask you a few questions,’ said Natalie, holding her ID card in the air. ‘We can do it here or at the station. Either way, we’re going to talk to you.’
Mark looked sullen.
‘Okay. Let me turn this off.’ He sidestepped to the tap and turned it clockwise. The hose sputtered and released a final dribble of water.
‘We have reason to believe you were at Uptown Craft Centre and Farm on 24 July 2015, the day Ava Sawyer went missing.’
‘I can’t remember where I was that far back.’
‘Don’t be obstinate. It’ll do you no favours. Were you there on that date?’
His shoulders slumped. ‘Yes. I was there that day.’
‘Why were you there? It was your day off so why did you go to the centre?’
‘I fancied a cup of tea.’
‘Come, come, Mr Randle. You surely could have made a cup of tea at home.’ Natalie kept her voice pleasant although it was a struggle.
‘I honestly went for a cup of tea,’ he repeated.
‘Okay, I’ve had enough,’ she suddenly snapped. ‘Bring him in.’
Murray withdrew handcuffs from his back pocket and launched at the man, who backed off, hands up in the air.
‘Whoa! Okay, okay. I met a friend for a cup of tea and a chat and then went home.’
‘Would this friend have been Bruce Kennedy?’ Natalie asked.
He looked at his feet. ‘You’ve spoken to him, haven’t you?’
‘We have and now we’d like your version of events.’
‘What did he say?’
‘I’m not prepared to discuss that. I want you to tell me why you were there with Bruce and what happened after he left.’
‘He’s already told you, hasn’t he? You know why we met up.’ He let out a lengthy sigh. ‘Okay. Truth is I had a serious problem – a dependence. I was on a programme to get better and was given a sponsor, Bruce. I phoned him that morning because I’d lapsed. Bruce was going to the centre that afternoon and we agreed to meet there. We chose the farm café because there was a private alcove where we could talk without being overheard. He explained it was normal to have setbacks and not to be so hard on myself. He didn’t stay long. In fact, he didn’t even finish his tea.’
‘What did you do afterwards?’
‘I went home, via the greenhouse. I’d planted out some delphinium seeds that week and wanted to check they weren’t drying out. I left soon after that.’
‘What time would that have been?’
‘I really have no idea. I went for a ride afterwards.’
‘Ride?’
‘
I own a motorbike. That’s how I get about.’
‘You didn’t see a child or anyone about or near the greenhouses, did you?’
‘If I had, I’d have told the police at the time.’ He folded his arms and glowered at Natalie.
‘Where were you on Wednesday afternoon at about five p.m.?’
‘At home.’
‘Can you prove your whereabouts?’
‘What’s this about?’
‘Can anyone confirm you were at home on Wednesday?’
‘No. I live alone.’
‘What time did you leave work?’
‘At four. I walked that day because the weather was nice and I needed the exercise. Takes about three quarters of an hour on foot.’
‘Did you happen to go past Queen’s Park?’
His eyebrows drew together. ‘This is about the girl who was killed in the park, isn’t it?’
‘Answer the question, please.’
He unfolded his arms and rubbed a hand behind his neck. ‘I went into the park for a short while but I absolutely didn’t see that girl. I was in and out in a flash.’
‘Why did you go in the park?’
‘I was walking home, spotted a friend, or someone I thought was a friend, and I followed them into the park. When I caught up with them, I found out it wasn’t who I thought it was.’ He blinked several times, eyes darting as he spoke.
‘That sounds a very muddled explanation.’
‘Hand on heart, it’s the absolute truth.’ He wet his lips and tensed up. He was clearly keeping something back.
‘Would you care to elaborate?’
‘No, I wouldn’t. I’ve told you enough. And I have work to do. I don’t want to lose my job.’ With that he spun around and dashed for the exit, knocking over tubs behind him. Murray launched after him, scrabbling in his wake. Mark didn’t make it to the door. In spite of the obstacles, Murray caught him before he could reach it, and placing a heavy hand on his shoulder, wheeled him back towards Natalie. Natalie, who’d been watching the events unfold, had spotted another quick movement. Mark had tossed his mobile phone into a pot as he’d scarpered past it. She shook her head and crossed to the large green pot, reached in, extracted the mobile and tutted.
‘Good try. Now why would you throw this away?’
Mark did not reply.
‘Have it your way. We’re going to take you to the station to assist us with our enquiries. You are now under investigation.’
Mark began to protest then clamped his mouth shut and glowered at her.
‘Take him in.’
Eighteen
THURSDAY, 27 APRIL – EVENING
Natalie left Mark in an interview room under Murray’s watchful eye and deposited the mobile at the tech lab before stopping off at the office. Ian sidled up to her immediately and passed over a manila file.
‘There’s a restraining order out on Mark Randle. He’s not allowed to contact or approach Justine Woodman of 19 Stumpy Lane, Uptown. It’s been in place for a year.’
She opened the file and read through the document. ‘How come this didn’t show up when you were running checks on him?’
‘I missed it. I was focused on his sex addiction and past employment record.’
‘You missed it?’
‘Sorry.’
Natalie bit back an acerbic retort. She was cranky and frustrated like they all were. They’d been working flat out since Ava’s body had been discovered and had all pulled their weight. It was an error but mistakes happened. At least he had the information now.
‘Okay. Anything else I should be aware of?’
‘Not that I’ve discovered.’
‘As soon as the tech department find whatever he doesn’t want us to see on his phone, let me know.’
Natalie threw the file onto the desk and strode around the room before coming to rest in front of the table. Murray, with his back against the wall, said nothing.
‘No more pissing about, Mark. You could be in serious bother. You have no convincing alibi for yesterday afternoon and were in Queen’s Park around the time Audrey Briggs was killed. You were also at Uptown Craft Centre and Farm on 24 July 2015, at around the time Ava Sawyer was snatched. You have no one who can confirm your whereabouts on either occasion. Ava’s body was uncovered at the garden centre in an area not far from the greenhouses. I’d say that makes you a likely suspect. Unless you come up with something that can extricate you from this mess you’ve got yourself into, I might have to suggest you call a lawyer.’
Mark looked ahead, eyes on a spot above Natalie’s head.
‘Have you any idea how serious this is?’
Mark maintained his silence.
Natalie kept her eyes on him, waiting for him to crack and speak but he said nothing.
‘This isn’t going to help. The longer you remain silent, the worse this will be for you. Say you have nothing to do with either girl’s death; you can still be charged for perverting the course of justice. Do you want to go to prison?’
Mark shifted slightly in his chair.
Natalie tapped the file. ‘Justine Woodman.’
Mark blinked and looked away.
‘You were issued with a restraining order that prevents you from approaching or contacting her. You harassed her repeatedly, and according to that file, waited outside her work and threatened her. She claimed she was terrified of what you might do to her and her daughter.’ She paused to drive home her point. ‘She has a ten-year-old daughter. The way I see it, there’s a connection.’
No response. Natalie thumped the table, making him look up in surprise. ‘Mr Randle, I am investigating the murder of two young girls. If you won’t answer me, I am going to charge you.’
A knock interrupted her. Murray opened the door to Ian.
‘Can I have a word, ma’am?’
Natalie pointed a finger at Mark’s chest. ‘If you don’t speak to me on my return, you’ll be spending the night in the cells.’
Outside in the corridor with the door shut, she released a long expulsion of air. ‘Bastard. He’s clammed up.’
‘I visited the tech lab. Told them it was urgent. They looked at his mobile while I was there and came across these straight away. They were secreted in a coded file.’
He handed over copies of explicit photographs of naked adults in various sexual positions.
‘He’s got videos on there too; adult hardcore porn. None of it’s illegal but gives you an idea of what he’s hiding. Probably still has a sex addiction. These are the photos you might find more interesting.’
She glanced at the three pictures of a young girl smiling up at the camera. ‘Thanks, Ian.’
‘Thought it might help. Stuffed up on the restraining order.’
She gave a tight smile. ‘We all stuff up at times,’ she said.
‘You ready to talk to me yet?’
Mark looked at his hands now resting in his lap.
‘I don’t know what television cop shows you watch but rest assured, keeping silent doesn’t work in the real world. We’ve searched through your phone and found your sex videos and photographs. I have to say it doesn’t look good for you.’
‘I didn’t know either of the girls who died. I’d never set eyes on either of them. It’s only a coincidence I was at Uptown Craft Centre the day Ava went missing and was in Queen’s Park for only a few minutes yesterday.’ He lifted his eyes to look directly at Natalie. ‘I know what you’ve found on my phone, but those photographs have nothing to do with the murders. I was in the park because of Justine.’
Natalie waited while he knotted his fingers together and attempted to gather his thoughts.
‘I’d like to explain what happened between us. So you get the real picture. I first met Justine at a café that bikers use, outside Samford. We went out together. I really liked her and I got on fine with Boo, her daughter. We started seeing each other regularly then, without warning, she dropped me. It happened suddenly and without any reason. One minute we were go
ing out; the next, she stopped responding to my calls. Whenever I rang or texted, she ignored me; froze me out. I went around to her place to ask why, and she wouldn’t open the door. I tried her workplace and next thing I knew, she made an official complaint about me to the police. I was angry and confused. I sent emails asking why she was treating me so badly. She didn’t respond. Instead she called the police again and said I was harassing her. While I was walking home from work yesterday, I saw Justine going into the park with another man and I was jealous, okay? I ran after them but before I caught them up, I stopped and hung back.’
‘Why didn’t you say something earlier?’
‘I was breaking the injunction. You could send me to jail.’
Natalie’s eyes grew big. ‘You have more to be concerned about than breaking an injunction. It would’ve been better if you had just told us the truth and if you hadn’t tried to hide your phone.’
‘I don’t know why I did that. Moment of panic. I wasn’t thinking straight. I guess I didn’t want you to see the porn on it even though it’s adult porn. No kiddie stuff. I’m not a paedo.’
‘There are other photographs on your phone of a young girl, a girl wearing a yellow dress. Who is she?’
‘That’s Boo. I took them before Justine blocked me.’
‘Why did you put them into an encrypted file?’
‘It wasn’t deliberate. I transferred all the explicit pictures across in case my phone ever got stolen. I accidentally sent those across at the same time.’
‘Why not delete them? It’s weird you should keep pictures of a young girl you hardly know on your mobile.’
‘There are photos of Justine on there too. You must have seen them. I didn’t just hang onto the pictures of Boo. I kept all the photos I’d taken. I simply couldn’t delete them. They meant too much to me. I’d really hoped we’d become a family. I couldn’t let go of that dream.’
Natalie sat opposite Mark and studied his face. In spite of his protestations, facts were facts. He had a weak alibi for the days in question, there were photographs of a girl in a yellow dress on his phone and he had worked at Uptown Craft Centre. Still, she knew she shouldn’t get fixated on one suspect when there were potential holes in the case against him. She’d release him until further information came to light.