by Ted Tayler
“Wow,” said Lydia. “That was a result. What did her mother have to say?”
“I left before she got home,” said Gus, “I’d done what I set out to do. No point getting involved further. I’d spent enough time away from our remit as it was. Right, that’s a solid, black line under the Kendall case. We’ve got a new case to pursue.”
Luke looked at Neil to see his colleague raise one eyebrow. That was typical Gus Freeman.
The crusty detective has a soft centre but doesn’t want people getting used to seeing it.
“I’ve got a list of names, guv,” said Luke. “Six interviews lined up for whoever you think should take them.”
“Alex and Lydia, you can interview Vanessa Nicholls,” said Gus. “Luke, you and Blessing can visit Mary Bennett.”
“Do you want me to hold the fort here, guv?” asked Neil.
“We’re off to Rushey Platt and then on to Gablecross, Neil. After we’ve studied the murder site and its surroundings, we’ll ask your mate, Jake, for the names of detectives that worked with Colonel Sanders on this case. I don’t want to involve him if possible.”
“What about Debbie Read and her daughter, guv?” asked Luke.
“I’ll see them,” said Gus. “I may need one girl with me. Lucy will be fourteen now, and she’ll need a responsible adult present.”
“Lucy’s mother will want to be there, surely, guv,” said Lydia.
“I don’t think for one minute that Debbie Read killed Stacey,” said Gus, “but Lucy may have secrets that the sisters kept from their mother. We’ll get nothing from the young girl if her mother is listening. I’ll talk with Debbie first and then explain why we want to talk to Lucy alone. We’ll take the necessary action if she objects.”
“Stacey’s father, Pat Read, is on the list for tomorrow, guv,” said Luke.
“That’s five, Luke,” said Gus. “Who was number six?”
“Christine Moseley, Head Teacher at Stacey’s school. Ms Moseley has been in charge for eight years, so she knew Stacey from the day she arrived at the Academy from junior school. I thought she could offer an unbiased view of Stacey’s behaviour in the weeks before her death. She could help with possible names for teenage lads that might associate with Stacey out of school.”
“Fair enough, Luke,” said Gus. “Ms Moseley’s input will be something to compare with what Gablecross offers. Whether either angle will locate the mystery youth arguing with Stacey on the night she died, who knows?”
“When do we start?” asked Alex Hardy.
“Vanessa Nicholls starts work at two o’clock,” said Luke. “I’ll give you a number. Just call and tell her you’re on your way.”
“Is Mary Bennett retired?” asked Neil. Luke nodded.
“Blessing and I can get away as soon as I’ve given everyone the relevant contact details. Stacey’s grandmother will be in throughout the day.”
“Come on then, Neil,” said Gus. “We’ll drive over to the nature reserve. You can call Jake Latimer when we’re ready to leave. If he’s not in the office, we’ll find someone else to help us. I want to avoid Gareth Francis if possible. I met a PCSO called Travers when I stumbled upon the Gary Burnside murder. Travers had more common sense than most of the others at Gablecross. With luck, he’ll be at a loose end.”
Fifteen minutes later, the Old Police Station office was empty. The game was afoot.
“Did you find Gus’s behaviour odd this morning?” Lydia asked Alex as he manoeuvred his car into town centre traffic from the car park.
“Odd, in what way?” he replied.
“He glossed over the details of the dog adoption, for one thing. It must have cost two or three hundred pounds. London Road wouldn’t sanction that, so it came out of his pocket. Then, he didn’t hang around to share the good news with Mrs Kendall. Gus got out as fast as he could.”
“I spotted Luke and Neil sharing a look when he made those remarks,” said Alex. “They started the ball rolling by reuniting Sally and Lexie. Gus thought it warranted a follow-up. I’m sure he cleared it with the ACC. It’s a departure from the usual way we deal with completed cases, I admit.”
“It’s the female touch,” said Lydia. “He’s mellowed since Suzie Ferris moved in.”
“I’m sure you’re right,” said Alex. “You haven’t shared your good news with him yet, have you?”
“We don’t want him suffering from emotional overload,” said Lydia.
“Have you ever been to this part of Swindon before?” Alex asked.
“No, only the main shopping centre and one of the retail parks on the outskirts.”
“Penhill hasn’t got a great reputation in the press, but it’s only a minority that causes trouble. The streets where Vanessa Nicholls and Mary Bennett live are only a five-minute walk apart. They keep the community spirit I associate with the railway town that was dying when I was a kid. The new builds scattered around the borough are a mish-mash of design. No wonder they don’t possess the same sense of belonging.”
“No sign of Luke in the streets we’ve passed,” said Lydia. “Are we nearly there?”
“Two more junctions to negotiate and we’ll be there,” said Alex, “I was taking it slow. With luck, Vanessa Nicholls will put the kettle on at ten o’clock.”
Two minutes later Lydia was knocking on the door of No46.
“Are you the police?”
The lady who answered the door wore a housecoat and flip-flops. Her dark hair was piled high on her head and wrapped in a towel.
“Vanessa Nicholls?” asked Alex.
“That’s me,”
“I’m DS Hardy, my colleague Ms Logan Barre, and I want to talk to you about your niece’s murder.”
“Wiltshire Police wanted to take a fresh look at the case,” said Lydia. “They handed it to us. We work for a Crime Review Team. Can we come in?”
“Of course, sorry, I’ve only just got out of bed. Come through to the kitchen. I was going to make myself a brew. Tea or coffee?”
“Coffee, please,” said Lydia. “White for him, mine’s black, both with one sugar.”
“We understand from our colleague, DS Sherman, that you start work at two o’clock,” said Alex.
“I work for Bromford, where I help provide specialist housing support,” said Vanessa Nicholls. “I’m only part-time at present, so I need to keep my other job.”
“Something that involves late nights?” asked Lydia.
“I work behind the bar at a nightclub in Old Town.”
“Was that your main occupation back in February 2015?” asked Alex.
“No, I’ve had several jobs since then. When Stacey went missing, I was working nine to five at Nationwide. That was why the girls stayed over so often. I was always available in the evenings and at weekends.”
“Your husband, Barry, had moved out by then?” asked Alex.
“He left me in 2008,” said Vanessa. She removed the damp towel from her head and threw it on the kitchen floor next to the washing machine. “I didn’t miss him that much, Barry spent most of the week driving abroad, anyway. One Friday night he didn’t bother coming back.”
“The girls started staying with you soon after, did they?” asked Lydia. “Your sister, Debbie, thought it would help, I suppose?”
Vanessa snorted.
“You are joking? Debbie off-loaded those girls onto Mum as often as she could. Stacey stayed with Mum while Debbie was in the hospital having Lucy. Then, when she brought her home to Gorse Hill, it was six months before Debbie was ready to cope with two kids. When it got too much for Mum to cope, Debbie started on me. Could I take them for a few hours? The girls enjoyed spending time with Auntie Vanessa so much, they said could they stay over? I should have called a halt, but if I had, I would have been sending my mother to an early grave.”
“Did Debbie find looking after the children difficult from the outset?” asked Lydia.
“You know Pat?” asked Vanessa.
“Her ex-husband, who works at the
Honda factory?” said Alex. “Yes, we know about him.”
“Debbie and Pat met on New Year’s Eve 2000. She fell for Stacey in the spring. The wedding took place a month before the birth. In every photograph, my sister is holding a giant bouquet in front of the bump.”
“Even if Pat thought they had forced him into the marriage, they still had a second child, Lucy,” said Alex.
“Pat’s an odd bloke,” said Vanessa. “His job involves a lot of precision work, and that typified his routine. He wanted his meals on the table at a specific time. Pat couldn’t stand the disruption to his timetable that a couple of kids brought. Debbie got Mum to take one or both of the girls as often as possible, but in the end, Pat decided marriage wasn’t for him. He left Debbie in 2007. I’ve got friends who live in Moredon. They tell me Pat works all week, washes the car on Saturday morning, shops at Waitrose on Saturday afternoon, and that’s it. They rarely see him. He’s got no social life.”
“He wasn’t interested in getting access to the girls?” asked Lydia.
“Not in the slightest. Pat turned his back on them as soon as he was out the door. Like I said, odd.”
“What about Stacey?” asked Alex. “She was thirteen, and street-smart, according to the evidence we’ve got. Wasn’t she wondering about her Dad? Didn’t she want to ask him why he’d left her when she was six?”
“Stacey asked me if it was her fault that her Dad left one time when they stayed. I told her not to be silly. It wasn’t her fault. Her Mum and Dad couldn’t make it work, like Uncle Barry and me.”
“How did she react to that?” asked Lydia.
“She said, I knew it. Dad left because of Lucy.”
“You had to put her right; I assume?” said Alex.
“I told her it was nobody’s fault, but I’m not sure she believed me.”
“Would you run through the events of that Sunday when Stacey first went missing?” asked Alex.
“I spent the day catching up with chores around the house, popped out to do shopping. Mum called at around six while I was washing my dinner things. She said that the girls had gone home and reminded me that Stacey was staying the night. I told her it was the first I’d heard. It made no odds to me. I wasn’t going anywhere. So I waited, but Stacey didn’t arrive. I thought Mum had got it wrong. Debbie didn’t call either, so I forgot it.”
“So, you were unprepared for her staying here?” asked Lydia.
“Look, I’ve got two bedrooms and that sofa bed. What’s to prepare? If one of them arrived, we could make up the bed in a couple of minutes. When they were younger, they slept together. After Stacey started to grow, she wanted to be on her own. Lucy went in the second bedroom, Stacey slept in my bed, and I stayed downstairs.”
“What happened on Monday morning?” asked Alex.
“I got up and went to work,” said Vanessa.
“When did you realise that Stacey was missing?” asked Alex.
“Debbie called me on Tuesday evening. I hadn’t long got in from work. I think I needed some shopping, so I was later than usual.”
“Were you surprised that Debbie waited until Tuesday evening?” asked Alex.
“Debbie must have assumed she was with Mum or me. Lucy wasn’t much help. If she said she hadn’t seen her sister at school on Monday, we could have started the search earlier.”
Stacey was already dead, thought Alex. You couldn’t have saved her. But if they found her body sooner, the evidence might not have got contaminated by canal water and the rats.
“Debbie didn’t contact the police until she was on her way to work the next morning,” said Alex. “A phone call on Tuesday night was best, surely?”
“That’s Debbie for you,” said Vanessa. “She was probably watching a programme on TV and didn’t want to miss it.”
“When did you go to your Mum’s checking on Stacey?” asked Lydia.
“That was Tuesday night,” said Vanessa. “I called Mum, but she never answered. Debbie asked me to see if Stacey was there. It was freezing out, but my sister stayed warm while I had to walk to Mum’s. She had gone to bingo and didn’t get home until ten.”
“We’ve learned that Stacey took time off school, particularly in the weeks before she died. Did she stay here?”
Vanessa blew out her cheeks.
“First I’ve heard. No, evenings and weekends were when the girls came here. Mum covered the rest as far as I’m aware.”
“How long has Debbie worked out at Dorcan?”
“She didn’t work after she got married. Until Pat walked out,” said Vanessa. “Debbie started there at sixteen and stopped when she was six months gone with Stacey. They offered this morning shift at the start of 2008. It fitted in with the schooling, but it was more to suit Debbie. Everything revolves around her.”
“In the original investigation, detectives thought someone, or something, altered Stacey’s plans to spend the night here. Why didn’t they learn that she wasn’t supposed to be here, anyway?” asked Lydia.
“Debbie told me not to say too much,” said Vanessa. “It made it sound that she didn’t care for the girls as she should. You know what the social services are like with latchkey kids. Debbie was frightened they would take Lucy from her too.”
“If Stacey wasn’t due here, do you have any idea why she left home that night alone?” asked Alex.
“I’ve asked myself that question a thousand times,” said Vanessa.
“Did Stacey have a boyfriend?” asked Lydia.
“Someone older, with a car?” asked Alex.
Vanessa shook her head and frowned.
“There was nobody like that,” she said. “Stacey mentioned boys from school who were mates. She was thirteen, and they grow up faster than when I was that age, but no, Stacey wasn’t seeing an older bloke as far as I know. There were no signs. She hardly wore make-up. She wore jeans and loose tops, a baggy jacket, not tight tops, and short skirts. Inside the house, I could see her body was changing, but she never flaunted it, not like others of her age.”
“Do you remember any mates from school that Stacey mentioned,” said Alex. “Lads that could have been the one Debbie heard argued with Stacey at the top of Redpost Drive?”
“I don’t know which ones she mixed with at school lived out that way,” said Vanessa.
“We can sort out the likely lads when we talk with Ms Moseley, the school head teacher,” said Alex.
“Ryan Lock, Wayne Page, and Kane Hatton were names I heard most often,” said Vanessa.
“Did Debbie ever tell you the name of that lady who was walking her dog that night?” asked Alex.
“Did she even ask her who she was?” snorted Vanessa. “She was in such a state she would have forgotten it before she got home. You’ll ask her when you talk to her, won’t you?”
“Yes,” said Alex, “but it always helps to get corroboration.”
“We asked about boyfriends that Stacey could have known,” said Lydia. “What about you? Your husband, Barry, left ten years ago. Surely, you’ve met someone since then?”
“Who says I’ve been looking?” said Vanessa.
“Between 2008 and February 2015, when Stacey died, you had a steady job with the building society. When did you leave?”
“I left not long after Stacey’s death, but I’d had my hours cut in 2010. That’s when I started looking for part-time jobs to supplement my income.”
“So, you looked for bar work at clubs similar to the one in Old Town?”
“I’d always worked in pubs ever since I was eighteen,” said Vanessa. “I could always pull a pint, chat to customers. I had a dozen landlords prepared to offer me work.”
“You’re still an attractive woman,” said Lydia, “what are you now, late thirties?”
“Early forties is close enough,” said Vanessa. “I’m three years older than my sister.”
“So, take this nightclub, for instance,” said Alex. “You get plenty of men in there, late at night. Quite a wide age range, some mar
ried, some single, and the owners encourage them to drink and lose their inhibitions. Plenty think they stand a chance with the young ones writhing on the podiums. Others know they’re punching above their weight and decide they prefer the more mature woman. Did you ever take home one of those with a more discerning palate?”
“What if I did? I have needs too,” said Vanessa.
“Was Stacey ever here when someone stayed the night?”
“There was a bloke I saw for a month or two when I worked at a pub in Wichelstowe. He could still have been here one morning when the girls arrived to stay for the day. There was never a time when I left them alone to go to work. Nor did anyone turn up late at night when they were sleeping here. It must have been a Sunday. Stacey was twelve, maybe.”
“What was his name?” asked Alex.
“Rod Maidment. He’s not married. I don’t think he ever has been. He works at Honda, in a different section to Pat Read. When I knew him, Rod was always complaining he was overweight. Rod used to play loads of sport when he was younger. When he stopped, he piled on the pounds.”
“How old is he?” asked Lydia.
“A few years older than me. The last time I saw Rod, he was thin as a rake. I fancied him more when he had something to grab hold of.”
“Where did you see him? In the nightclub in Old Town?”
“No, Debbie puts flowers on the canal bank on Stacey’s birthday, Christmas, the anniversary, you know. I saw him in the street as I went there on the bus.”
“Does Rod Maidment have a car?” asked Alex.
“He drove a new Honda when I knew him,” said Vanessa.
“How far is his house from the nature reserve?”
“Several miles. Rod didn’t live in Wichelstowe. His house was on the other side of Wroughton.”
“Does Lucy still come to stay with you?” asked Lydia.
“What do you think? My sister won’t let her out of her sight. Debbie didn’t blame Mum, or me, for what happened, but she won’t take any chances with little Lucy.”