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DEAD SILENT a gripping detective thriller full of suspense

Page 2

by Helen H. Durrant


  Calladine grunted his reply and made to lead Zoe away without looking at Fallon. But Zoe was having none of it.

  “Thanks, Ray. I might just do that.” She smiled.

  “No, you damn well won’t!” Calladine pulled Zoe towards the vicar, who was standing in the church doorway. “We’ll say our goodbyes to Reverend Buckley and then get everyone to the hotel.”

  “You’re very rude,” Zoe told him. “He’s your cousin. You were close once, so why don’t you get on now? He can’t be that bad.”

  She had no idea. And hopefully she’d never need to learn.

  “We were never close and, no, we bloody well don’t get on. I don’t want you getting on with him either. The man’s a murdering bastard. Don’t be taken in; he’s evil. At times, when I have no choice but to be in his company, like today, I’m forced to smile and pretend, but that’s all it is. Do you understand?”

  “Well, I still don’t think you were very nice. You hardly spoke to him. In fact, you were positively glacial. He can’t have felt welcome at all.”

  Calladine didn’t give a toss about his cousin’s finer feelings. And Fallon must have taken the hint because he and his goons were making for the Bentley.

  Fallon called out to Thomas one last time, “Can’t make the wake! But I’ve put a ton behind the bar, so have a drink on me.”

  Calladine’s expression didn’t change. Who did he think he was?

  “That was very kind of him. He seems nice enough from where I’m standing, and wealthy too from the look of him.”

  Calladine would have liked to tell her just how he’d amassed all that wealth, but this wasn’t the time or the place. Anyway, her mobile was ringing.

  “You didn’t turn yours off.”

  “It’s as well I didn’t. It’s for you.”

  It was his sergeant, Ruth Bayliss. “We’ve got a missing child. I know this is a difficult day for you, and I wouldn’t have rung if I’d had any choice in the matter, but she’s only four. So you needed to know at once. One minute she’s sat at a table in the garden centre café — the next she’s gone. The childminder said it was as if she literally disappeared into thin air.”

  Ruth had been right to ring him. If no one had found her within a few minutes, then it was probable the child had been taken. His stomach churned. What sort of hell was in store for him now?

  “Not had one of those in a while. Have you put out an alert?”

  “Yes, and I’m waiting to see the parents. We need to interview them, get an up-to-date photo, and possibly even arrange a search of the house. As I said, the kid was with the childminder — a young woman called Anna Bajek. The parents, a Mr and Mrs Robert Rigby, were at work. I’ve contacted them and they’re on their way home. I’m in the car outside the house now. Miss Bajek is still at the station, waiting to give a statement.”

  “Shouldn’t you still be away? I thought that jaunt to Wales was four days,” he asked, wondering why Ruth was working when she should be on leave.

  “Ray, the chap who organises the birding group, has had an accident. The silly bugger fell off a ladder and broke his leg. So, of course, Joan had to drop out and that only left two of us so we shelved the trip until later in the year.”

  “Sorry about that. You were dead keen too. What was it, kites?”

  “Yes, Tom, red kites, but no matter.”

  “Okay. Give me the address and I’ll meet you there. Phone the nick; don’t let the childminder go until I’ve spoken to her too.”

  “You can’t leave. It’s your own mother’s funeral!” Zoe Calladine was angry.

  “She’s right, sir,” Ruth piped up in his ear, overhearing what Zoe had said.

  “It’s fine. It’s over now, bar the boozing, anyway.’

  “Okay — but don’t come unless you’re sure. I can handle things for now.”

  He knew she could. Ruth Bayliss was a first-class sergeant. But they were already one man down and another of their number, DC Simon Rockliffe, was still on light duties. He’d received a head injury while investigating their last case and had only recently returned to work.

  “I’m sorry.” He took Zoe to one side. “We’ve a missing child — a very young child, too. I have no choice, surely you can understand that? This is what it’s like with me, Zoe. This is the reason your mother and I stood no chance . . . I’ll see you later. I’ll try and get to the wake, but I can’t promise. Look — the weather’s filthy, why don’t you do something about all those lovely flowers? They’ll just go to waste if they’re left lying out on the grave in this rain. Let Monika take some to the home. I’m sure your gran would approve.” He smiled and kissed her cheek — then he was gone.

  Chapter 2

  Both parents were older than Calladine would have expected — possibly in their early forties. They were understandably distressed; and Mrs Rigby’s anguish was only too evident. Sitting in an armchair, she was red-faced with crying, clutching a hankie to her face and trembling with emotion. Mr Rigby was not as visibly upset as his wife. Trying to hold things together for her sake? Delayed shock? There was always the possibility it was down to something else.

  Whatever was going on inside his head, Robert Rigby seemed too much at ease, given what had just happened. He made a pot of tea and spoke about his daughter in a matter of fact way, almost as if he expected her to come running into the room at any minute. Once they sat down to talk, Mr Rigby handed Calladine a photo that had been sitting on the window sill. Cassandra Rigby was playing on a beach and smiling happily. She had curly blonde hair and a smattering of freckles across her cheeks.

  “Does Miss Bajek look after Cassie often?” Ruth asked.

  “Yes. She has her most days, except for the weekend.”

  “Is she trustworthy? Did she provide you with references?”

  “This is all my fault, isn’t it? I should have stayed at home until Cassie went to school next year. But I couldn’t do that, could I? I had to have that damn shop, and now look what’s happened.”

  Mrs Rigby broke down again. Her husband tried to comfort her, but she pushed him away.

  “Anna came highly recommended by a friend. I’m sure she’s absolutely fine, Inspector,” said Mr Rigby.

  “Nevertheless, we’ll interview her and get a statement. How long has she been with you?”

  “A few months. We have to have a childminder unfortunately. I work full time at the Council offices, and my wife has the florist shop in Leesdon. Anna occasionally has Cassie all day but mostly it’s just for three or four hours. Being her own boss, Jane is able to juggle her hours, you see.”

  “What is it you do at the council, Mr Rigby?”

  “I work in the Planning Department — all very boring and routine, I’m afraid.” He smiled.

  The Planning Department — could there be anything in that? Calladine wondered. People would go to extraordinary lengths to get what they wanted from town planners these days, particularly if it involved a housing development.

  “I don’t want this next question to upset you, but I have to ask it,” Calladine told them. “Do you know of anyone who’d want to take Cassie? Has anyone threatened you or your family — anyone to do with your work for instance? Have you seen anyone hanging around — watching you all or taking a particular interest in your daughter?”

  Both parents shook their heads.

  “No one is interested in us personally, Inspector,” Robert Rigby told them.

  “Well there is that man, Alton.” Jane Rigby spoke up. “You know — the one I told you about. I might be over-reacting but he scares me. He owns the nursery where I get some of my stuff. He was really off with me the other day. In fact he mentioned you, and it wasn’t in a nice way either. He swore profusely and I did find his behaviour a little threatening.”

  Robert Rigby shrugged and shook his head. “There’s nothing in that, Inspector. Just a run-of-the mill spat about acquiring some land, that’s all.” He turned to his wife. “You know how he is — how he feels ab
out the buyout. Just an overreaction, no more than that.”

  “Nonetheless, perhaps you should tell me about it?” Calladine said.

  “It’s all very tedious really. Leesworth Council, in partnership with a housing association, want to build a number of small affordable homes. You know how expensive property is getting around here. The large tract of land at the back of the garden centre was identified as a possible site, but it won’t be enough on its own, so the owner of Leesworth Plant Nursery, the adjoining property, was approached. I don’t know if you’ve met him, but he’s a very difficult man. Wanted nothing to do with it — refused absolutely to even consider the offer we made him. A very generous offer too. Relocation, compensation — the works.”

  “I take it he supplies plants to the garden centre, so he knows it well?”

  Both parents nodded.

  “I’d imagine so,” Mrs Rigby added. “His stuff is really good. He’s an excellent grower. I’m awaiting a delivery of potted hyacinths for Christmas as we speak.”

  “I’d be surprised if Cassie’s disappearance has anything to do with him, Inspector. I can’t really influence much at the Department — I’m not that important.”

  “Could there be anyone else; anyone with a grudge?”

  “No one notices us, not really. We’re just ordinary. We’ve no reason to draw attention to ourselves.” Mrs Rigby’s voice shook a little more with every word she spoke.

  “Has Cassie ever wandered off before?” Ruth asked.

  “No, never. She’s a good little girl and she wouldn’t go off anywhere on her own. She knows about not talking to strangers too.”

  “Would Cassie recognise the man from the nursery?”

  Jane Rigby nodded and buried her head in her hands. This was getting them nowhere. Anything she might be able to offer was overshadowed by her emotion.

  These cases were always heart-wrenching. Calladine looked around the sitting room. It was nicely furnished with good quality stuff. A large Christmas tree had pride of place in the front window, with a number of presents lying underneath it. If they didn’t find the child soon, this was going to be hard.

  “Okay. We’ll arrange for a WPC to stay with you. We’re already on with this, and she’ll relay everything that’s going on to you, particularly any progress we make. The minute we know anything, when we find Cassie, you’ll be the first to know.” Calladine handed Mr Rigby his card. “Ring me if anything happens, or should you be contacted.”

  “What do you mean?” Mrs Rigby raised her head. “You’re talking blackmail, aren’t you?”

  Calladine looked at the woman. Why would she think that? She’d just said how ordinary they were, so why would she imagine they’d attract the attention of someone wanting money?

  “I’m not thinking of anything in particular. In case anyone tries to pester you, notably the press, my advice is to tell them nothing — not yet. We will hold a press conference soon, and tell them what we want them to know. In cases like this they can sometimes help. Other agencies will be involved in finding Cassie too. You will hear from them. He watched the fear mount in her eyes.

  “You think Cassie has been taken by some . . . some sort of pervert, don’t you?”

  Mr Rigby tapped her arm. “They don’t think that, and you know as well as I do how unlikely that is. This is something else entirely, some silly mix up I’m sure. Remember what I told you.” His look at her plainly indicated: say no more.

  Odd thing to come out with. But emotion did strange things to folk.

  “We don’t think anything yet,” was Calladine’s reply to her question. “We’re simply following procedure. We will work fast, and we’ll do our best — that I can promise you.”

  * * *

  “Is it just me, or is there something they’re not telling us, sir?” Ruth asked, once they were outside. “She’s obviously devastated, but he’s something else. And did you hear that comment? What does he mean by ‘silly mix up’? Does he imagine that one small child is very much the same as any other, and some poor woman has gone home with the wrong kid?”

  Calladine raised his dark eyebrows. Ruth wasn’t wrong. They were an odd couple. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but something was going on there.

  “I suppose we have to make allowances for the shock of what’s happened. People are quick to imagine all sorts in circumstances like this.”

  “But how can he know she’s not been taken?” Ruth argued. “Whoever owns that nursery will most certainly get a visit as soon as. But apart from that, Rigby’s holding something back — I’ll lay odds on it.”

  “Who’s the WPC?”

  “Kate Robinson. She’s okay; she’ll keep her ears peeled.”

  Kate was good at her job. Calladine knew that she had aspirations to become a detective too. He’d see how she went, what she could turn up about the Rigbys while she was there. They could do with replacing Dodgy as quickly as possible.

  “You go back to the station and give the other agencies the heads up. You can start looking into that pair’s background too. I want to know all about that family, the complete picture, and particularly since Cassandra was born. Follow up on the plant nursery too. I’ll join you in a while.” He checked his watch. “I’d better put in an appearance at the Leesworth Hotel — see if anyone’s still hanging around. Then I’ll call a team meeting. Get Imogen to check the garden centre for CCTV. You never know.”

  * * *

  By the time Calladine got there, there were only a few mourners left at the hotel. Zoe was seated on a stool at the bar, deep in conversation with another young woman.

  “I asked Jo to come and join me. You don’t mind do you? You went off so quickly, and I’d no idea if you’d be back or not.” She smiled. “I didn’t want to sit here on my own.” She nodded at a group of elderly folk sat around a table. “They’re all lovely and have some wonderful tales to tell about Gran, but I fancied some company my own age.”

  He looked around at who was left. Monika hadn’t stayed long then. He couldn’t blame her. She’d be wary of having to make inane small talk with him.

  “Did you sort the flowers with Monika?”

  “Yep — she took some. She was very grateful.”

  “Good. Did she say anything else?” He almost hoped she’d asked about him.

  “No, nothing important. Anyway, this is Jo Brandon. She owns the estate agents below the solicitors’ office where I work.”

  Calladine nodded and offered to buy the two of them a drink. He was pleased Zoe was settling down and making friends, and this Jo seemed nice.

  She offered her hand and a wide smile. “Pleased to meet you, Mr Calladine. Zoe’s told me lots about you.”

  “That’s not a local accent. You’re a long way from home, I’d say.”

  “Guess I can’t hide it, can I? Pennsylvania’s my home, but I like it here.”

  “I can’t stay long. As I said before, I’ve got a missing child, so I need to get on top of things fast. I’m sorry. I can’t promise I’ll be home any time soon either.”

  “That’s okay, Tom. I’m not Mum, I do understand about your job, you know. I’m a solicitor, so I know about police work.”

  They’d agreed when Zoe first came into his life that she’d call him Tom. She’d had no problem with calling him dad, but the inspector didn’t think he deserved the title — not yet anyway. He’d known her for such a short time, and he’d had no part in bringing her up. Perhaps in the future, once they both knew each other better and could see how things were going to pan out between them.

  “How will you get back?”

  “Jo will take me. In fact I might go back to hers and stay the night, so be as late as you like.”

  “We’re waiting for the roads to clear,” Jo said. “There was a nasty car crash earlier in the fog and the traffic’s still bad.”

  “I didn’t know — I didn’t come that way.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me about your cousin?” Zoe asked, changi
ng the subject. “I don’t understand why you wouldn’t, because you’ve precious few blood relatives.”

  “I didn’t tell you because he’s a hoodlum, and I don’t like him, not one little bit, that’s why.” He saw Jo smirk. “Despite what you might think, he’s a damned embarrassment. You’ve seen him once. I’ve had to live with him, remember? And that wasn’t easy.”

  “He can’t be that bad, surely. You’ve so little family. Have you never considered trying harder?”

  “Not with him I haven’t. I’m not spinning you a tale, Zoe. Ray Fallon is evil. He’s utterly ruthless and doesn’t give a damn who he hurts, and that includes family. So keep away. I don’t want you involved with him or his wife, poor cow that she is.”

  “Well, that’s telling me. My mum always used to say you were a hard man. Now I see what she meant.”

  “Hard — perhaps. But only when a situation demands it. I’m not stupid, though, and getting involved with Fallon would be just that — plain stupid.”

  Zoe walked her father to the hotel entrance. “Drive carefully. This fog is hanging about, and it could come down thick again later.”

  “Ditto. Are you and Jo planning a night out? Leesworth isn’t that bad. There are one or two really nice pubs.”

  “We might. We’ll see how things go. But I think we’ll probably just go back to hers and chill. You know, order a curry and watch some telly, nothing special.”

  It sounded glorious. What he’d give to have the same opportunity. Some downtime would suit him right now, particularly after the funeral.

  “As long as you’re happy, love.”

  Zoe waved, watching him drive away down the bleak, grey road. It hadn’t really got light properly today, and no doubt the fog would close in again once it got dark. It would be a long, cold night.

  * * *

  “Doc Hoyle wants you to ring him, sir,” Imogen called out as Calladine entered the main office. “D’you know about the smash this morning?”

 

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