‘His name’s Neil Abrahams. Been a courier around here for about five years. He confirmed he used to have a bit of fun with Melanie when he came here. Seemed genuinely shocked about her death.’
‘Alibi?’
‘Says he was playing cricket with friends yesterday at the same time Yvonne and Tony said they received the kidnapper’s phone call telling them where Melanie was. I’ve got the name of a friend who can corroborate that. Apparently he gave him a lift home.’
‘Okay. Give him a call when we get back.’ Kay opened the car door, and inclined her head at the warehouse door. ‘What do you think?’
The young detective glanced back at the front windows to the unit. ‘There are no large cash withdrawals from the business account. They’re running a good profit, and appear to have been audited by the tax office last year with no issues.’ She shrugged. ‘Everything seems above board.’
Kay drummed her fingers on the steering wheel, then checked her watch before starting the engine and steering the car away from the industrial park. ‘We’ve got a couple of hours until the next briefing. Let’s make a start with Melanie’s friends. Who’s first on the list?’
Carys flicked through her notes. ‘Emma Thomas. According to Belinda, Emma and Melanie used to hang out here after school sometimes, supposedly to help out.’
‘Yeah, Sheila said Melanie used to come here. Didn’t mention Emma though.’
‘I’m not surprised – Belinda and Annie said she was a pain in the backside.’
‘Interesting. What’s the address?’
Carys read it out, and Kay nodded. ‘I know it. Just the other side of the A20.’
She manoeuvred the car into a turning lane, and pressed the accelerator as soon as the opposite carriageway was clear.
‘All right. Let’s see what Emma Thomas has to say for herself.’
THIRTEEN
‘I always did like this area,’ said Carys, as the car drew up to the kerb. ‘Your place is near here, isn’t it?’
Kay laughed. ‘Yes, but the Maidstone end. This part is way out of my price range.’
She climbed from the car, and peered over the roof at the village green. The gastro pub on the corner of the encircling road was doing a brisk lunchtime trade, and she knew at the weekend a couple of local cricket teams, vying for space among those who preferred to kick a ball, would take up the grassy area.
They made their way towards a red brick house further up the lane from the pub. A tall privet hedge provided the home with privacy from the road, and as they approached, a curtain in the top left-hand window twitched.
‘We’ve been spotted.’
Kay concentrated on keeping her eyes lowered. ‘I expect they’ve been waiting for this call.’
She reached out, and rang the doorbell.
They didn’t have to wait long. The sound of feet running down a flight of stairs reached them, and then the door was opened.
‘Emma Thomas?’
‘Yes?’
‘Are your mum and dad in?’
A woman appeared at the daughter’s side, wiping her hands on a towel. ‘I’m Sarah Thomas, Emma’s mum.’
Kay held up her warrant card. ‘Good morning, Mrs Thomas. Detective Sergeant Kay Hunter. This is Detective Constable Carys Miles. I wondered if we could speak with Emma, please – about Melanie Richards?’
Sarah Thomas stroked her daughter’s head. ‘You okay to talk to them, sweetie?’
‘Yes,’ said the teenager. She sniffed. ‘If there’s anything I can do to help, I want to.’
Kay noted the girl’s red-rimmed eyes. ‘We could really use your help to find out more about what Melanie was like as a friend,’ she said, gently.
‘Come in,’ said Sarah, and beckoned to them to follow her.
Kay let the mother and daughter lead the way through the house to a bright conservatory that had been added onto the back of the building, flooding the kitchen and dining area with light.
The surfaces of the worktops were spotless, save for an array of the latest cooking and coffee-making gadgetry that seemed to have been placed for aesthetic purposes, rather than for any practical use.
‘Please, have a seat,’ said Sarah, gesturing to a suite of armchairs in the conservatory. ‘Would you like coffee?’
‘No, that’s fine,’ said Kay. ‘We won’t take up too much of your time today.’
She gestured to the garden. ‘You have a lovely home,’ she said.
‘Thank you,’ said Sarah, and visibly preened. ‘My husband’s business does very well, and we’re blessed to live in such a nice area.’
‘So, Emma – can you tell me about Melanie? I understand you’ve been good friends over the past year or so?’
The teenager nodded, then reached forward and plucked a paper tissue from a box on the low table between the chairs. She blew her nose, then clutched the crunched-up tissue in the palm of her hand. ‘We were in different classes at secondary school. So I didn’t really get to know her until we started our A levels last year.’
‘In September?’
‘Yes.’ Emma sighed, and then threw the tissue in a wastepaper basket next to her chair before taking another from the box. She held it between her fingers, and tore absently at the material. She frowned. ‘I can’t remember how we first got talking. I think I made a joke about something.’
‘What happened then?’
A smile stole across Emma’s face. ‘There was a really loud laugh from the other side of the room, and I turned around to see who it was, and it was Melanie. We ended up hanging out at lunchtime, and found out we had loads in common.’
She sniffed again. ‘I can’t believe she’s gone.’ She dabbed at her eyes with the remnants of the tissue, and then dropped it into the wastepaper basket. ‘What happened?’ she said, raising her tear-streaked gaze to Kay.
‘I’m sorry, Emma. I can’t divulge any details of an active investigation.’ She held up her hands. ‘When I can tell you something, I will – does that sound fair enough?’
The teenager nodded.
‘Right, so you latched onto one another when you started studying for your A levels. How much time did you spend together?’
‘Oh, loads,’ said Emma. ‘She liked the same music as me, we went to the same hairdresser, we hung out at the same shops at the weekend.’ She drifted off, her face wistful. ‘We used to go up to London on the train some Saturdays. Camden Market, Covent Garden.’
‘And they were always home before it got late,’ interjected Sarah.
Kay smiled. ‘Good,’ she said. She turned her attention back to Emma. ‘Did Melanie ever mention that she might be in danger?’
Emma shook her head. ‘No. No – never.’ Her bottom lip quivered once more.
‘Okay,’ said Kay. ‘Where else did you go with Melanie?’
Emma thought for a moment. ‘Oh – sometimes we used to go over to her mum’s business after school. Her mum doesn’t have that many staff, so we used to help out answering the phones or packing boxes in the warehouse.’
Sarah leaned forward. ‘Yvonne and I felt that it would be good experience for the girls, so they’d have something on their CVs before leaving school.’
‘It was fun,’ said Emma. ‘We’d do the post, and sit at reception and stuff. We used to get paid, too.’
‘How much time did you spend on reception?’ said Carys.
Emma’s brow creased. ‘Um, maybe a couple of afternoons a week? Yes, that’s right – especially the last three months. It’s been really busy,’ she said, with authority.
Kay smiled. ‘I understand you got on well with the courier.’
Emma’s lip curled. ‘That was Melanie. He never really took any notice of me. Thank goodness.’
Kay noted the edge of jealousy in the girl’s voice, despite her words. Her mother seemed oblivious, and so she changed the subject.
‘Mr Richards used to work there as well, didn’t he?’ said Kay.
Emma nodded, and looked down
at her hands. ‘Yes. He was fun.’ She shook her head. ‘I can’t believe Tony’s dead, too.’
‘When was the last time you saw Melanie and Tony together?’
‘The week before he and Yvonne went on holiday. Although, it was a business trip for Yvonne. Tony thought it was a holiday,’ Emma added with a smile.
‘And Melanie stayed behind?’
‘Yes.’ Emma’s face fell. ‘The last time I spoke to her, she was meant to be going with them. If she’d gone, she’d still be alive, wouldn’t she?’
The girl burst into tears once more, and Sarah pulled her daughter into her embrace.
‘Do you need anything else, Detective?’ she said, peering over her daughter’s head.
‘No, thank you.’ Kay leaned forward. ‘And thank you, Emma. You’ve been really helpful.’
‘Excuse me,’ said Sarah. ‘I’ll take her up to her room, and then I’ll see you out.’
She rose from the settee, and coaxed Emma out of the room, their muffled voices trailing through the kitchen and hallway in their wake.
Kay rose from her chair, and paced the conservatory.
‘What do you think?’ murmured Carys, gathering up her notebook and bag.
‘I think she misses her best friend.’
Sarah returned after five minutes, and stood on the threshold between the kitchen and the outer room, hugging her arms across her chest.
‘Thank you for letting us speak with Emma,’ said Kay. She held out one of her business cards. ‘We’ll need to talk to her again at some point, but if she thinks of anything that might help us in the meantime, please call me.’
‘We’ve kept her here ever since we heard about Melanie,’ Sarah said. ‘She’ll go back to school next week, but we’ll be setting some ground rules.’ She visibly shuddered.
‘What does Emma’s father do?’ asked Carys.
Sarah waved her hand dismissively. ‘Oh, he’s long gone. I remarried about three years ago. Vince is a superb father to Emma. Runs his own import and export business.’ She gestured to the interior décor. ‘Doing very well for himself.’
‘Well, thank you for your time,’ said Kay. ‘We’ll see ourselves out, if you like?’
Closing the front door behind them, she set a quick pace down the driveway and back to the car.
‘What’s the rush, boss?’
Kay tapped her watch. ‘School finishes in half an hour. I want to speak to the headmaster. See what our girls were really like.’
Carys stopped next to the car while Kay unlocked it, and looked back at the house. ‘Too good to be true, you think?’
‘Definitely. Maybe Emma and Melanie were getting up to some things Sarah Thomas never knew about.’
FOURTEEN
Kay’s lips thinned. ‘I never really liked school.’
‘Why not?’
Kay shrugged. ‘I liked learning. I didn’t like the bullying that came with it. Couldn’t wait to get out.’ She glanced at her watch, then across to the woman behind the desk. ‘The headmaster does realise this is urgent?’
‘Of course,’ the woman said, primly.
At that moment the door next to the desk opened, and a wiry-looking man poked his head out.
‘Detective Sergeant Hunter? Would you like to come through?’
Kay stood, arched an eyebrow at Carys, then made her way across the reception office and through to the headmaster’s room.
He held out his hand as he ushered them through. ‘I’m Geoffrey Hatchard.’
As Kay entered, she was struck by how bare it was. Two chipped and dented grey filing cabinets stood propped against one wall, a pile of paperwork on top of each. A frosted glass window let light into the cramped space while allowing its occupant some privacy from the playground outside. The headmaster’s desk was a cheap affair, and looked as if it had been built from a flat-pack kit in a hurry.
The headmaster himself seemed to have absorbed some of his environment’s less flattering features.
He loosened his tie from his collar, and removed his threadbare jacket from his shoulders before placing it on the back of his chair and running his hand through thinning hair with an audible sigh.
Kay lowered herself into one of the visitors’ chairs he indicated, and waited while he pushed some more paperwork to one side and leaned his forearms on the surface.
‘I presume this is about Melanie Richards.’
‘It is. Thanks for seeing us at short notice,’ said Kay. ‘I understand she was close friends with Emma Thomas. Can you tell us more about them?’
Hatchard exhaled, and leaned back. ‘A lot of potential. But, unfortunately, a lot of hard work to try to get them to focus.’
‘Care to elaborate?’
‘We’ve had some – issues – this past year. Melanie’s grades were fine at the end of the last school year, and then she and Emma Thomas were placed in the same class in September. I hate to say it, but Emma has been a bad influence on a few of the girls in the school. Tends to exert her authority.’
‘You mean she’s a bully?’
Hatchard spluttered. ‘Well, I don’t suppose it’s bullying in the sense that no one is getting hit. They’re just words.’
‘What sort of words?’
The man sighed. ‘Name calling, that sort of thing.’ He shrugged. ‘We had words with them both on several occasions – especially Melanie. It seemed such a shame that she was more interested in being part of Emma’s clique than concentrating on her schoolwork. She really was an excellent pupil.’
‘Do you think anyone she bullied would harm her?’
The man’s face whitened. ‘You can’t mean—’
Kay remained silent, and let the man mull over her question.
He opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, and then shook his head. ‘No. No, really I wouldn’t.’
‘We’ll need a list of the children who’ve made complaints,’ said Kay.
‘I don’t know if that’s possible.’
‘We’ll seek permission from their parents to speak with them first.’
‘No – that’s not what I mean. You see, no one ever made a formal complaint.’
‘What?’
The man lowered his eyes and blushed. ‘I only found out about it because two of my staff reported incidents to me. None of the kids who were bullied have ever said anything.’
‘Why ever not?’
He shrugged.
‘Were Melanie and Emma intimidating them so much they were scared?’
‘I don’t know,’ he murmured. ‘I’m sorry,’ he added, his eyes meeting hers. ‘I have no idea.’
KAY FINISHED her call to DC Barnes, and having received an update from the incident room, stuffed her phone into her bag.
Her eyes fell to the graffiti scrawled across the red brickwork of the bike shed next to the visitors’ car parking bays. It appeared that, at some point, effort had been made to scrub the walls clean; in places, the untarnished surface stood out in stark contrast to the scribbled tags that surrounded it.
When she glanced up, Carys was staring over the car roof at the school’s main building.
‘What are you thinking?’
Carys shrugged. ‘I was wondering how desperate a bullying victim would be to end the torment.’
‘Yeah. Definitely something we’re going to have to keep in mind,’ said Kay. She exhaled. ‘Okay, well Barnes says Gavin has managed to get hold of the CCTV footage from the industrial estate, so that’s something I suppose.’
‘Excuse me?’
She spun round.
A small, thin girl stood in the shadow of the bike sheds, hands clasped in front of her.
‘Where did you come from, love?’
The girl pointed over her shoulder to a pathway that cut between the bike sheds and a tired-looking tennis court. ‘I heard your voices,’ she said.
‘Everything okay?’
The girl peered back over her shoulder. ‘I guess.’
Kay dumped her bag
on the driver’s seat, and nodded to Carys before turning back to the girl.
‘Did you want to have a chat?’
The girl bit her lip.
‘It’s okay,’ said Kay. ‘You won’t get into trouble.’
‘Is Melanie Richards coming back?’
‘Um, no. No, she isn’t.’
‘Good.’
The girl spun on her heel.
‘Wait.’
The girl’s eyes widened as she glanced back towards Kay, her whole stance signalling she was ready to flee.
Kay took a deep breath, then took a punt. ‘How bad was the bullying?’
‘Bad.’
‘I got bullied at school, too.’
The girl didn’t look convinced.
‘I don’t know if I’d have gone as far to kill someone who bullied me, though.’
‘Me neither.’ The girl seemed to relax. ‘I don’t think any of us would, to be honest. We just wanted to make sure the news was true. That she wasn’t coming back.’
‘What’s your name?’
The girl took off, and Kay swore under her breath.
‘What do you think, Sarge?’
They climbed into the car, and Kay started the engine.
‘I’m wondering who else Melanie Richards bullied.’
FIFTEEN
Kay steered the car between two red brick pillars, the wrought-iron gates to the Richards’ driveway already open, and slowed as the wheels crunched over a newly laid, gravel driveway.
A plain pool car from the station had been parked nearest the closed garage doors, and she exhaled as she realised the FLO had transferred from the hospital with Yvonne Richards. A second vehicle, a mid-range silver SUV, stood sentinel on a paved area to the far side of the property.
‘Have you ever worked on a kidnapping case before?’ asked Carys. She shifted in the passenger seat, unclipped her seatbelt, and stared at the front door.
‘Not like this,’ said Kay. ‘You?’
Carys shook her head.
‘Right, I’ll lead with the questions. You take notes. If you think I’ve overlooked something, or want something clarified, jump in. Okay?’
‘Got it.’
Kay pulled the key from the ignition. ‘Let’s go, then.’
Scared to Death (A Detective Kay Hunter novel) Page 6