by Carol Wyer
Robyn gave him a smile of encouragement.
‘As soon as he completed his last exam he packed up his stuff and left, without a word! I don’t know where he is now. I tried ringing him but the number he gave us doesn’t work any more. Dominic’s gone travelling and I rarely hear from him either. He’s one of those gung-ho types. Loves adventure and the outdoors. I can’t imagine him ever taking up a nine-to-five job.’
Robyn nodded. ‘Do you recall seeing a large trunk in Elliot’s room or in the house, or maybe you were there when it was delivered?’
His cocked his head. ‘No. I rarely went into Elliot’s room. He was one of those private sorts – you know, would open the door to talk but not let you inside. The final term, he wouldn’t even answer if you knocked on his door. Dominic and I used to laugh about that; joked he had loads of naked women hiding in there with him. As long as he paid the rent, we weren’t that bothered. It’s not like we were best mates.’
‘Is there anything else you can tell me about your housemates?’
‘We were pretty dull by comparison to some students. Got on with our work. Didn’t get up to much mischief. Somebody told me Elliot is a teacher now. I forget who. He went back to his hometown. Where did he live? Place with a racecourse? Uttoxeter. That’s it.’
Robyn’s heart missed a beat. Elliot Chambers. Hadn’t Amélie mentioned a teacher called Mr Chambers? Could it be the same man?
Phil was still talking. ‘That surprised me. He was an exceptionally talented actor, much better than me. Mind you, the money is probably better in teaching and there’s the job security. I live from hand to mouth, taking on all sorts of roles.’ He grinned again and wiped his fringe away from his face. ‘We performed together in a modern-dress production of Oscar Wilde’s The Importance of Being Earnest at the end of our second year. I’ve got a photograph of us on my mobile. Hang on.’
He rummaged in the plastic bag, pulled out a phone, and once it had turned on he flicked through the pictures. ‘That’s us.’ Phil held up a picture of a cast of nine. Phil wore a sharp suit and beamed merrily at the camera, arm around an attractive girl.
Robyn scanned the faces. ‘Which one’s Elliot?’
Phil gave a triumphant grin. ‘I knew you wouldn’t guess. There.’ He pointed at the woman standing behind him wearing a sleeveless dress. ‘That’s Elliot. He played snooty Lady Bracknell. Doesn’t he look amazing? No one believed he was really a man. Most convincing Lady Bracknell ever.’
Forty-Eight
‘Get me everything you can on Elliot Chambers.’ Robyn kept her foot to the floor as she drove back up the M6 toll road, trying not to exceed the speed limit but desperate to get back to Stafford. Traffic was light for a Tuesday at 5 p.m. and the temptation to push the Golf to ninety was great.
She could hear the smile in Mitz’s voice. ‘Anna’s got CCTV footage. She’s going through it at the moment.’
‘Good. Ask Matt and David to return to the station. I want to run something past you all. I’ll be back in about thirty minutes.’
‘You’re not speeding, guv?’
‘As if.’ She gave a slight smile. Suddenly things were shaping up. She might even have got the breakthrough she’d been hoping for. Elliot Chambers could well be a suspect. She had enough information to bring him in for questioning, but she was concerned that if he were holding Siobhan captive and suddenly thought they were on to him, he might harm her. They needed to plan their strategy. Siobhan’s life was not to be put in danger. Robyn did not want another girl harmed. She dialled Amélie. The girl sounded pleased to hear from her.
‘Hey. Just wondered if you were okay and wanted to see if you and Florence had made up?’
Amélie’s voice changed. ‘No. She sat next to Ingrid today. She’s ignoring me.’
‘She’ll come around. Don’t worry. It was over something silly, wasn’t it? Did you tell me it was over a teacher?’
‘It was so dumb. Yes, I accused her of fancying Mr Chambers. He’s pretty fit. He teaches us English and drama. What should I do? Try and talk to her?’
‘Leave her for a little longer. Trust in your friendship. She needs to calm down a bit and realise it was silly to fall out over such an unimportant thing. Okay, I have to go. I wanted to see if you were okay.’
‘Yeah. Thanks, Robyn. You’ve cheered me up a bit.’
Robyn drove on. She had to uncover everything possible about this man. Not only did they have reason to suspect him of involvement in the disappearance and murder of Carrie and Amber, but he was dangerously close to those she cared about.
* * *
The office was bustling when she finally got in. Anna, in one corner of the room, was glued to a screen, scanning every possible detail of the CCTV footage, hand poised over the mouse to halt and rewind. Mitz scrutinised his computer screen. As Robyn entered the room he waved a sheet at her. ‘Elliot Chambers, twenty-three years old, took up a position at Delia Marsh School, Uttoxeter in September last year.’
Robyn felt another pang of anxiety similar to the one she’d had when speaking to Amélie about the man. She urged Mitz to continue. She couldn’t afford to sidestep the real issue here. Was Chambers their perp?
‘He studied at Manchester University and graduated in June last year with a BA in English and drama. No convictions. Driving licence but no car registered in his name. Father, Thomas David Chambers, died January 2006. Mother, Cheryl Denise Chambers, aged forty-five, currently unemployed and receiving sickness benefit. Chambers rents a flat in Derby Road, Uttoxeter, which is very close to the school. His mother lives just outside the town in Field Lane, at The Oaks.’
‘Okay, okay, okay. Let’s think this through.’ She held up a finger. ‘Firstly, we believe Elliot Chambers took delivery of a trunk, identical to the one that contained the body of Carrie Miller.’ She held up the second finger. ‘Secondly, Chambers has had acting experience. Mitz, did you print off the attachment with Phil Eastwood’s email?’
Yes, guv.’ Mitz passed out photocopies of the picture.
‘Chambers is the woman in the yellow dress.’ A small sound of surprise escaped Matt’s lips. Robyn allowed them enough time to digest this piece of information before speaking. ‘Is it only me who thinks he might, just might, have disguised himself as a woman to take on that unit in Rugeley?’ She paused and looked at her officers.
‘He looks remarkably like a woman.’
‘I asked his housemate Phil about the part, and apparently Lady Bracknell is portrayed as very plummy. He said Chambers was excellent at mimicking upper-class folk. Our witnesses said Joanne spoke with a posh accent.’
Matt nodded. ‘Could be him. He’s slim, tall and good-looking in this photograph. He could be the evasive Joanne Hutchinson.’
‘Do we agree it’s a plausible assumption to make?’
There were nods of agreement. ‘Finally, and I am going out on a limb again with this idea, Chambers’s flat is close to the railway station, and I can’t help but wonder if both Amber and Carrie caught trains and ended up there. I’m almost certain Siobhan went to Uttoxeter station to catch a train to Derby.’ She strode to the window and observed the dark clouds scudding across the sky. ‘Chambers lives in Derby Road. Mitz, how far away is that flat from the railway station?’
‘On foot? Sixteen minutes. It’s less than a mile.’
‘So it’s conceivable he could have met any of those girls at or near the station, and then taken them back to his flat. Or they could have made their way to his flat?’
David continued to scratch at his ear. ‘But no one spotted them disembarking from a train or walking towards the flat.’
Anna joined in. ‘Uttoxeter station only has two platforms. There’s no ticket hall and there are only two trains per hour. Someone could have been waiting for the girls in the car park and driven them away from Uttoxeter. Or the girls might have exited the station on foot, cut across the car park at Dovefields Retail Park, and joined Derby Road without being noticed. People are co
ming and going all the time at these places.’
Robyn’s lips twitched as she pondered. ‘Chambers may have moved to his flat simply because it’s near Delia Marsh school, but my instincts are telling me to delve further.’ She folded her arms. ‘I want him checked out but I don’t want to spook him. If he has abducted Siobhan and clams up, we might never find her. It’s been twelve days since she disappeared. Siobhan isn’t a high-priority case for missing persons. She’s almost nineteen years old and there is a belief that she’s taken off for a while, after the break-up of her relationship. However, I’m concerned that she’s fallen victim to our suspect. The careless disposal of Amber’s body leads me to suspect he might kill Siobhan if he feels the net is tightening around him. This is tricky. I want to haul his arse in here and question him, yet that could be the wrong move. Without concrete evidence he could slip away, and who knows who his next victim might be.’
Anna looked across, eyebrows furrowed. ‘I hate to say it, but Siobhan could already be dead.’
Robyn nodded gravely. ‘I really want you to be wrong, Anna. The message that Carrie supposedly sent her on Facebook, “I hope we meet sometime soon”, is niggling at me. Matt, check all the van hire establishments again, but this time ask if Elliot Chambers rented one. If that’s a no-go, gather information on all Chambers’s associates or friends in case any of them hired a vehicle on his behalf. Let’s check that route from the station to the flat. David, head off to Dovefields Retail Park with the photographs of Amber, Carrie and Siobhan. See if anyone saw any of the girls wandering around alone or with someone.’ She glanced at her watch. She could reach Uttoxeter by seven if she left soon. ‘Any information on Chambers’s family might be useful too.’ She looked at Mitz. He acknowledged the look and began searching.
Robyn marched over to the whiteboard and added Elliot Chambers’s name. What was the connection between him, Carrie, Amber and Siobhan? She stared at the board as if it might yield the answer. The girls came from different areas, were different ages and weren’t even friends on Facebook. Only the message sent by Carrie connected them. She slipped into her seat and brought up Amber’s Facebook page. She hadn’t friended anyone called Elliot Chambers. Could he have used an alias? She carefully scrolled through each of Amber’s friends, scrutinising the faces. None were Elliot. After forty minutes she sat back, none the wiser. Mitz had been more successful.
‘I’ve got more information on his family, although there’s not a lot. His father worked for a large dairy farm until he passed away. His mother, Cheryl, was a self-employed make-up artist, working on local theatre productions until last year when she stopped work and began to draw sickness benefit. Their daughter, Charlotte May Chambers, committed suicide on the third of March 2016. She’d only just turned fifteen.’
The sound of a siren approaching the station broke the heavy silence that fell.
A frown scudded across Robyn’s brow. ‘Chambers’s sister killed herself?’
Anna interrupted the conversation. ‘Got her! I’ve got Carrie.’
Both Robyn and Mitz raced to Anna’s desk and huddled in front of the screen. Anna had it paused on a grainy image of Carrie Miller, a large black bag over her shoulder, clearing the ticket turnstile.
‘Run it.’ Robyn held her breath as they watched the girl pass through to the station platforms.
‘It’s definitely her. Any other images?’
Anna nodded, eyes wide. ‘Here.’ She fast-forwarded the footage until she came to the section she wanted. They all could see her clearly. Carrie Miller was squatting on her black bag, phone to her ear.
‘That’s definitely her.’ Robyn felt her heart hammer. ‘Which platform is that, Anna?’
‘Platform 2B. And, according to the timetable, Carrie was waiting for the train to Crewe.’
‘The train that stops at Uttoxeter.’
Forty-Nine
DAY TEN – WEDNESDAY 25 JANUARY
‘I think you need to act on this. Get Chambers in and interview him.’
DCI Flint’s face was cherry red, as if he’d been boiled in a pot. No sooner had Robyn entered the station than she had been summoned to his office.
‘Sir, I can’t risk Chambers becoming spooked. If Siobhan Connors is being held captive, we could put her life in jeopardy.’
‘That’s guesswork. Miss Connors could be anywhere. We’ve discussed this before, and while I understand your concern, there’s insufficient evidence to suggest she’s involved in this case.’
Robyn felt her neck crick, a sign of tension. Flint wasn’t making this easy for her. ‘I’ve amassed a huge amount of information—’
‘And used a large number of resources chasing around.’
‘With the greatest of respect, sir, we’re talking about the deaths of two girls here, and possibly a third if we don’t handle this correctly.’
Flint’s dark eyes bored into her. ‘I understand you hauled in Mr Khan for questioning.’
‘He came voluntarily.’
‘That’s not quite how I heard it. I understand Sergeant Patel was dispatched to chase him down and bring him in, when he could easily have been contacted by telephone.’
‘Sir, at the time we had reason to believe he was connected to the murder of Carrie Miller. I deemed it appropriate to send Mitz to Manchester. I didn’t want Mr Khan to suddenly decide to vanish.’
‘And you brought in Mr Logan Compton, a bouncer at the Stardust Nightclub. Yet you’re unwilling to bring in Mr Chambers. Can you explain that logic?’
‘I was wrong.’ Robyn looked her superior in the eye. ‘I acted hastily, and had either of those men been connected to the case, I could have endangered Siobhan. I’ve given this considerable thought since then, and I want to make sure I have an airtight case against Chambers. I can’t afford for him to slip away. He’s at work today, so I doubt he suspects we’re on to him. I only need a little time, sir.’
Flint returned her steady gaze and pulled his chin in. After a moment, he spoke. ‘I’ve a different way of handling things to DCI Mulholland. There are procedures to follow, as you well know, and sending officers willy-nilly all over the country is a waste of their time and our resources. Likewise, dragging in innocent citizens on a whim.’
‘I believed I had call to question them.’
‘I’d still like you to bring in Mr Chambers for questioning.’
Robyn drew in a breath. ‘If he’s involved in the disappearance and murder of these girls, he could well have also abducted Siobhan Connors. We need more concrete evidence before we interview him. So far, all we know is a trunk was ordered to his university address. It might or might not be the trunk we found at Rugeley containing Carrie Miller’s body.
‘Sir, we’re dealing with a perp devious enough to hide Carrie’s body for several months, hire a self-storage unit without rousing any suspicion, disguise himself as a woman and abduct three women without being spotted. We simply don’t have enough evidence against Elliot Chambers. I daren’t risk calling him in or searching his flat on the off chance we get something. If he knows we’re on to him, he could well murder Siobhan. That is, if he hasn’t already.’
Flint studied the back of a podgy hand, mottled with brown spots. ‘Okay. I can’t say I’m happy about this but I’m going to trust you on it. Your reputation for getting results is formidable, and I’ll give you the opportunity to prove me wrong. One chance. That’s all.’
‘Thank you, sir.’
‘You have DCI Mulholland to thank. She told me you were one of her outstanding officers. For the moment, I’ll let you do it your way. I have yet to draw my own conclusions.’
Robyn shut the door to DCI Flint’s office behind her and exhaled noisily.
‘Missed me, then?’
Tom Shearer seemed to materialise from nowhere.
‘You back already? It only seems five minutes since you went to Newcastle.’
‘Case resolved. I’m back. Got a shedload of paperwork to get through.’ Shearer looked w
orld-weary. ‘Any progress?’
‘Might have, at last. Flint isn’t too pleased with me. We’re not getting results fast enough and I’m burning through resources.’
Shearer looked vaguely amused. ‘He’s a bit intense at times. Probably getting pressure from the super.’
‘Pressure. We’re all under pressure.’ With a wave of her hand, she bounded down the corridor and into the office. ‘Come on, Mitz. Let’s go talk to Mrs Chambers.’
* * *
Large puddles reflecting the ink-black sky stretched across Field Lane. The squad car had drenched hedgerows as they drove from Uttoxeter to The Oaks. The grey house, named after the trees that once surrounded it, now stood in little more than a plot of overgrown grass and weeds. The trees had long since been felled. The entire house wore a mantle of neglect and sorrow, as if it had seen too much tragedy. It stood next to several outbuildings, each in a similar state of disrepair. The door to the first had fallen off, leaving two large rusting hinges. A dark-blue Vauxhall Zafira was parked inside it, a disabled user badge propped up on the dashboard.
Mitz joined Robyn who rapped against the front door. It creaked open and Cheryl Chambers, clinging to walking sticks, peered at them, greying hair hanging straight and uncombed. As she escorted them through a cold hallway to a sitting room, she admitted the place had seen better days.
‘I ought to move but somehow I can’t.’ Cheryl eased herself from her sticks into an automatic recliner chair in front of a television and beckoned for them to sit.
‘I hope you don’t mind us visiting you.’
‘You wanted to ask about Charlotte. After you phoned, I wondered if I’d be able to talk about it again. I keep trying to bury the pain of her loss. It never eases.’