The Birthday: An absolutely gripping crime thriller (Detective Natalie Ward Book 1)

by Carol Wyer

  ‘Natalie?’ Lucy’s voice was filled with a sudden eagerness. ‘Ned’s stepdaughter, Roselyn, owns a blue Yaris.’

  ‘You’re kidding.’

  ‘Bought it in 2011. It’s registered to her.’

  ‘Grab your coat. We’re going to pay her a visit.’

  After several failed attempts to find Roselyn, Natalie decided to return to the station. She rang Ned once more and asked if he had any idea where his stepdaughter might be. The man sounded wearier this time but was polite with his response.

  ‘I think Freddie is staying with his father tonight, so I expect she went out with friends. She’s probably stayed over with them or hasn’t got home yet. Most likely the former. I’m afraid I can’t help you with who they are or where they live. I’m not privy to her personal life.’

  Natalie apologised again for disturbing him. There was little more they could do and they needed some rest. The missing persons team was out searching for Sage, and until it was daylight, her own team couldn’t get going again.

  It was after 1 a.m. when she and Lucy got back to the office, and she dismissed everyone with instructions to be in by eight the following morning.

  Before she turned out the lights, she took one last look at Sage’s photograph, which they’d attached to the wall of victims. She had to find her alive yet she was powerless for the moment. She’d be up first thing and talk to Roselyn. For now, she had to hope Mike and the missing persons team were having more luck than her.

  ‘Stay alive, Sage. We’re going to find you.’

  Thirty-Seven

  SUNDAY, 30 APRIL – MORNING

  Natalie hammered on the front door. Eventually a figure, visible through the glass door, made its way down the stairs, wrapping a dressing gown tightly around herself.

  Roselyn opened the door a mere crack, revealing an eye, a nose and section of ghost-white face.

  ‘Roselyn Momford?’ Natalie asked, holding up identification. ‘Could we come in for a minute to ask some questions?’

  ‘You have any idea what time it is?’ the woman hissed. ‘Can’t this wait?’

  ‘I’m afraid not. You own a dark-blue Yaris, don’t you?’

  ‘Yes.’ The response was hesitant.

  ‘Where were you yesterday afternoon?’

  ‘I was at a friend’s house. She lives near the big supermarket in Uptown.’

  ‘Was that all afternoon?’

  ‘Most of it. I was here to start with, with my son. My ex turned up at about three thirty, came in and had a cup of tea before taking Freddie home with him. He has Freddie every other Saturday. They left at about four. I had a bath, got changed and went across to her place. We went out for drinks, met up with friends and ended up at Hot Pink nightclub in Samford. Got home about three.’

  ‘Did you leave your car outside her house?’

  ‘I didn’t use my car.’ Roselyn’s fingers tightened around the door, knuckles white against the dark frame. ‘Hang on. I have to release the chain.’

  The door shut with a quiet click followed by the sound of a chain dragging back along a slider before it opened again. Natalie and Lucy crossed the threshold. Roselyn tugged the edges of the dressing gown, which was a couple of sizes too small for her.

  ‘It’s only a fifteen-minute walk to her house from here. I didn’t drive it. I was going to, but Ned asked if he could borrow the car to take some stuff to the allotment, and given he’s been good enough to take Freddie swimming every Saturday while I’m at work, I couldn’t refuse him. He doesn’t own a car, you see?’

  ‘Has Ned borrowed your car before?’

  ‘Only since he’s been buying compost and plants for this new plot. He can’t carry heavy bags and gardening tools on the bus, can he? Besides, the garden centre isn’t on a direct bus route. It’s outside Kingstone, ten miles away. I offered to ferry him about but he said he’s such a ditherer, it takes him ages to decide what to buy and he thought I’d get bored waiting about for him. He does take forever, even to choose something simple like seeds. I’ve been with him in the past. He loves garden centres.’

  ‘Can you remember the days he borrowed it?’

  ‘I suppose I could work them out. It was always when I was at home. I need it for work and to run Freddie about the rest of the time.’

  ‘And he told you he was going to the garden centre yesterday afternoon?’

  ‘That’s right. What’s happened?’

  ‘We’re trying to identify the driver of a car spotted at a crime scene yesterday afternoon and we suspect it was your vehicle.’

  ‘Where?’

  ‘Larkspur Close.’

  ‘I don’t know where that is.’

  ‘It’s a road linking to Lavender Rise that leads to Garrington.’

  ‘Oh, I know where you mean. I doubt he’d be there. He doesn’t know many people and I’m pretty certain he’s never mentioned anyone living there to me. He’s somewhat of a recluse. Loves gardening and has his old dog for company.’

  ‘He’s your stepfather, isn’t he?’

  ‘Met Mum after Dad died. I was surprised when they got married. He’s quiet and shy and Mum was gregarious and full of life. He loves Freddie so much though. You can’t think Ned was involved in any crime,’ she scoffed. ‘He’s a kind old man. He’s not likely to have robbed anyone.’

  ‘It wasn’t a robbery.’

  Roselyn’s mouth opened and she cocked her head. ‘Well, he definitely won’t have been involved in anything criminal. It can’t have been my car that was spotted there.’

  ‘Does the car have a navigation system in it?’

  ‘It does.’

  ‘I’d like to ask somebody from the technical team to run a programme to check where it’s travelled in the last forty-eight hours.’

  ‘You’re serious, aren’t you?’

  ‘I know you think it’s unlikely Ned was involved, but we have to be totally satisfied that he wasn’t. We’re investigating a serious crime and we need hard evidence your car was nowhere near the scene.’

  She lifted her arms palms upwards and threw her head back. ‘Whatever. It’ll only prove my car wasn’t where you think, so go ahead. The car isn’t here, though. It’s still at Ned’s. He wanted to transport some stuff to keep in his shed on the plot, and I don’t need it until Monday, so I told him to hang onto it until later today.’

  ‘Then I’ll arrange for somebody to check it at his house.’

  ‘You want me to ring him?’

  ‘That won’t be necessary. I’ll sort it out. Do you remember helping Ned buy an Etsy card for your sister?’

  ‘I remember it. It was the first Christmas after Mum died. He spent far too much money on Grace. Told him not to buy one for two hundred pounds. He was adamant. I think he hoped by spending loads of money on her and Tony, they’d let him into their lives. Stupid bitch went and lost it. I was well pissed off with her. Took me ages to sort it out for Ned. He’s rubbish with the Internet.’

  ‘Did he buy you an Etsy card too?’

  She snorted. ‘No.’

  ‘Have you bought another gift card since then?’

  ‘No, why would I? I wouldn’t waste my money on Grace. She’s a tight-fisted leech.’

  ‘You don’t get along?’

  ‘Never did. Used to fight like cat and dog. Not everyone gets on with their family members. Glad Freddie’s an only child. At least he won’t fall out with any brothers or sisters.’

  Natalie thought about her own sister, Frances. It was true. Not all sisters were close.

  ‘You want to ask anything else?’

  ‘That’ll be all for now,’ Natalie replied and opened the front door. ‘Thank you for helping us with our enquiries.’

  Natalie tried ringing Ned as they got back into the car. It rang out.

  ‘No answer.’

  ‘Might be out.’

  ‘It’s eight o’clock. The shops don’t open until ten. Where could he have gone?’

  ‘Could be walking his dog.’


  Natalie bounced her knee up and down. ‘I reckon Ned could be involved.’

  ‘Really?’ Lucy’s eyebrows lifted.

  ‘He didn’t mention borrowing Roselyn’s car when I spoke to him last night. He told me he got gardening equipment and goods delivered to the allotment, yet he asked to borrow the car to visit a garden centre.’

  ‘He could still be telling the truth. He probably buys some things at the centre and orders other stuff. He can’t keep asking Roselyn to lend him her car. He wouldn’t want to take liberties.’

  ‘It’s a feeling I can’t shake off,’ said Natalie. ‘You’ve been to his house.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘He has a garden. Why would he own an allotment plot as well as a decent-sized garden? I don’t know why I didn’t query it before.’

  Lucy released a sigh. ‘I hate to rain on your parade but plenty of people have both gardens and allotments. The soil could be wrong in his garden for growing certain vegetables: maybe too acidic or too much clay. Besides, he owns a dog. I imagine it’d dig up anything he planted. They can be quite destructive.’

  Natalie sat in silence. The roads were quiet with only a few vehicles travelling on them. They overtook a small group of joggers clutching water bottles and running in a pack. It was Sunday morning and they still had no idea where Sage might be. Thoughts swirled in her mind. She spoke again. ‘Ned’s our only possible suspect at present. He has a plot close to the route Rainey took. He lives opposite the park where Audrey died. He saw nothing on either occasion. I’d accept that but there are other coincidences that mount up: he was at the garden centre when Ava went missing; he knows Howard and probably also knows where Howard lives; and now, a car that is the same make, model and colour as his stepdaughter’s vehicle was spotted on Larkspur Close.’ She counted each revelation off on her fingers, halting at her little finger and saying, ‘And he gave an Etsy card to his other stepdaughter. A card that mysteriously disappeared.’

  ‘True but he has no motive for killing the girls and there’s nothing in his file to indicate he has mental issues or any past history that would suggest him to be capable of harming children. He also spent a lot of time assisting Howard when he was hunting for Ava. He felt responsible for what happened. He loves Freddie, who technically isn’t his real grandson. He likes kids. I can’t see why he’d want to harm them.’

  Natalie heard what was being said but a buzzing had begun in her ears, the sound of blood rushing. Olivia Chester could have been saved if the team had explored all possibilities and not been blinkered.

  ‘I know this may seem crazy but let’s go to the allotment, take a look around. If Ned did snatch Sage, he might have hidden her there or somewhere nearby. There are loads of sheds and outhouses on those plots. He could have hidden her in any of them.’ Seeing the look of doubt creep across Lucy’s face, she continued. ‘I understand this goes against what we know about the killer’s MO, and Ava, Audrey and Rainey were left in the locations where they were murdered. In theory, if the same killer is responsible, they ought to have found Sage on that cut-through from her house and murdered her there or nearby, not taken her away. Her disappearance might even be unconnected to the investigation, but I can’t get away from the fact that Ned could be our perpetrator or involved in some way. Killers can change their routines, and I think we should explore all possibilities. We’ll head to the allotment. In the meantime, I’ll send one of the others to his house to check it out and see if the Yaris is there.’

  The area containing the allotments was accessed by a small lane off the main road but the gate to the plots was padlocked. Natalie smacked her hand against it and cursed.

  ‘We could get in the other way, the route Rainey took from her school, by the fields. It’d mean cutting across a field to join the path that runs beside the allotments and close to Ned’s plot,’ Lucy offered.

  As they spoke, an old Volvo appeared, rattling up the lane, and pulled up beside them. A woman with steely grey hair, in a green Barbour jacket and jeans, emerged from the vehicle.

  ‘Are you to do with the allotments?’ Natalie asked, extracting her ID card and holding it up for the woman to see.

  She put on a pair of glasses that were dangling around her neck on a thin chain. ‘Barbara Whitmore. I chair the allotment committee. What’s going on?’

  ‘Could you let us in, please?’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘We’re investigating the disappearance of a child.’

  ‘And you think they’ve wandered onto this site? Most unlikely. We keep the place locked up.’

  ‘I expect you know all the allotment members?’ Natalie asked, opting for a friendlier approach.

  ‘I know most of them.’

  ‘How about Ned Coleman?’

  ‘I know Ned. Tremendously nice chap. He’s been coming here for years. As long as I can remember.’

  ‘I understood him to have only recently obtained an allotment.’

  ‘That’s correct. He took over Albert Grimshaw’s plot. Albert was too old to manage it any more. Before that, Ned would drop by regularly to help out anyone who needed a hand: turn over some earth, plant seeds, anything really. Never took a penny for his efforts either. He’s got green fingers and what an extensive knowledge. He ought to have been a professional gardener. Ned’s been a fixture here for a very long time. Why are you asking about Ned?’

  ‘It’s just part of our investigation. Could you show us his plot?’

  Her face screwed up. ‘Have you spoken to him about it?’

  ‘He’s not answering his phone and it’s imperative we check it out.’

  ‘I don’t see why.’

  ‘Please take us to his allotment.’ Natalie’s voice took on a steelier edge that had the desired effect.

  Barbara pulled out a large key ring from her coat pocket and fumbled a key into the sizeable padlock. It clicked open. Lucy pushed the gate wide.

  ‘Be careful where you tread.’ Barbara took the lead and skirted around several patches of weeded earth and areas covered by green and blue polythene, along narrow grass paths to the far end of the site. ‘Here,’ she said.

  It was well-tended and had recently been turned. It was divided into six equal sections by thin green string. A slate plant marker was buried in the earth of the first section. Lucy bent to read what was written on it. ‘Lily of the valley,’ she said.

  Barbara frowned. ‘There’s no sign of them. Must have been left there from last year although I don’t remember Albert planting any lily of the valley there.’

  Another vehicle had arrived and two men strolled onto the site.

  ‘Two more of our merry band,’ she said. ‘Want to ask them about Ned? I think you’ll find quite a few people here have time for Ned Coleman.’

  ‘I’d like to look inside his shed first.’ Natalie walked towards it.

  Barbara’s nose wrinkled. ‘I don’t think that’s appropriate. You ought to ask him for permission first.’

  Natalie knocked on the sides of the shed. There was no sound from inside. There was no padlock; the door was locked with a key.

  ‘You really should check with Ned before prying into his personal space.’ The words came out in a less aggressive tone.

  ‘We’re conducting an investigation into the abduction and murder of children. Given Mr Coleman is not about for us to ask him, I think it would be perfectly acceptable for us to look inside his shed.’

  ‘My shed key fits his lock.’ One of the men had walked up behind them. ‘It’s easy to forget to bring your key, and most of us have similar types of shed. I unlocked it a few times for Albert. He was always forgetting his key. I don’t suppose Ned would mind. He’s got nothing to hide. Nice bloke. Helped me out when my back was playing up.’

  Barbara scowled at the man, who ignored the look and instead pushed past to open the door. He stood aside, leaving Natalie to enter.

  ‘Well, if there’s nothing else, I’ll leave you to it,’ said Barbara huffily. Sh
e strode away, her wellington boots leaving imprints along the borders of Ned’s plot.

  ‘Bossy old cow,’ said the man. ‘What are you looking for?’

  ‘Just checking it out,’ said Lucy, blocking the man, who was craning his neck. ‘If you wouldn’t mind waiting there for a second?’

  ‘Okay,’ he replied.

  Lucy walked in. Light filtered through a couple of warped boards and cast pale, golden rays onto neatly arranged tools that hung on the wall and shelves containing a wooden basket, secateurs and gardening gloves. Three huge bags of compost were stacked in a pile on the floor next to a pair of shears and a bucket. On the wall to the left of the building were rows of shelving with open wooden boxes, each containing seed packets, all displayed so the fronts were visible. Natalie read each out: ‘Sherpa cucumber seeds, broad beans, sweet wonder peppers, blanched golden celery, pea seeds…’

  ‘I thought you planted peas from a pod,’ said Lucy. ‘Sounds like he’s really into gardening. There’s nothing here. No sign of anyone, no rope, no evidence of a struggle. Nothing.’

  Natalie had to agree. There was nothing to indicate Sage had been taken to the shed. She’d made a bad call. She glanced one last time at the seed packets. The man was so tidy. The vegetable seed packets had been arranged alphabetically. The flower seeds had been arranged according to colour. As her eyes scanned the Latin names, none of which she recognised, it struck her they were almost all yellow flowers: sunflowers, daffodils, blanket flower and tickseed.

  ‘Lucy, he’s got numerous packets of yellow flower seeds.’

  ‘Yellow?’

  Natalie raked through the packets and looked at the pictures of the blooms on the front. They were all yellow. She turned when she heard her name spoken.

  ‘Natalie, look.’ Lucy’s voice was wary. She held the gardening gloves in one hand. Natalie immediately recognised the object that had been hidden from view under them. It was Sage’s silver locket. Had the girl been here? Her mind flipped back to the six sectioned patches on Ned’s plot. Each were wide and long enough to take the body of a child. Her pulse quickened as she considered the possibility of Sage’s body being in one of them. ‘I need to put in a call and get a warrant,’ she said. The man was waiting nearby. ‘Thank you, Mr…?’