by M A Comley
Carol chuckled. “On that sarcastic note, I’ll let you get on with your day, Inspector. Good luck.”
“Thanks.” Sara ended the call and returned to give Will the news that he would be working with them for another four weeks.
“Great news, thanks, boss. That’ll give me a couple of weeks to search for the right words to tell the missus. Now that the revelation has had time to sink in, I have to say I’m not looking forward to telling Mrs Rogerson. Maybe I should search for another job ASAP, it’ll soften the blow.”
Sara smiled. She’d been fortunate to meet Will’s wife on the odd occasion and she’d found the woman to be very aloof during the meetings, as if she was only attending to appease her husband. “Take all the time you need searching for a job, Will. If you have to attend any interviews, let me know, I’ll grant you the time off, no problem, okay?”
“That’s very kind of you. I’ll do that, boss.”
Carla came to stand next to her, notebook in hand.
“What’s up? A new case?”
“Possibly. I’ve had a report of a young woman going missing. Something sparked my interest. I know we only occasionally work missing person cases, but I wondered if we should take a look into this one.”
Sara shrugged. “It’s not as if anything else has landed on our desks, is it? Yep, let’s go for it. Get the details ready, I’ll down my lukewarm cup of coffee while I take a peep through the post and be with you in a jiffy.”
“Okay.” Carla returned to her desk while Sara went back to her office.
Sara cast a cursory glance through the post, opening what grabbed her attention the most. She found nothing new within the envelopes so she relegated them to her in-tray and returned to the incident room. “Right, Carla, do you want to fill me in en route?”
“Sounds good to me.”
“See you later, folks. Keep tidying up any loose paperwork lying around from the previous case, until we get back. Oh, and Will, the chief sends her gratitude.”
“No problem, boss.”
Sara squeezed his shoulder as she passed. “It’s appreciated more than you realise.”
She caught up with her partner in the hallway. Carla said, “That was a relief, wasn’t it?”
“I should say. I never expected it, did you?”
“Nope, not at all. He’s right about one thing,” Carla added.
“What’s that?”
They descended the concrete stairs together.
Carla leaned over and said quietly, “Out of all of them, he didn’t really fit in.”
Sara hitched up a shoulder. “I can’t say I’ve noticed over the years. He’s always chipped in when it was needed. Maybe upon reflection, he did seem to hold back a little compared to the rest of the team. Either way, we’re going to be a man down by the beginning of September, which is only going to heap more pressure on the rest of our shoulders.”
“Bring it on.” Carla smiled, punching the air.
Sara glanced her way and burst out laughing. “I’ll remind you of that little outburst when we’re drowning in paperwork and pulling our hair out over the next few months.”
“Ever wish you could take something back?”
“Frequently.”
They breezed through the reception area and got into the car.
Sara turned the key in the ignition, and Carla set up the satnav. “We’re heading out towards Munstone, do you know it?” Carla asked.
“Nope, can’t say I’ve come across that one before. I’ll wait for the dreaded automated voice to issue her command and then head in that direction.”
“I’m getting there. Give me two secs.”
“How are things at home?” Sara asked, filling in the time.
“You might be able to multitask, but not everyone is as capable as you.”
“Sorry. I thought you could.” Sara drummed her fingers on the steering wheel until she saw Carla shake her head.
“There you go. I think we’re good now.”
Sara set off, followed the voice’s instructions to turn left out of the gate and then tried again. “So, how are things between you and Gary?” She was chuffed with herself, successfully managing to say his name without flinching, for a change.
“All is fine at home. What about you and Mark?”
“We’re hunky-dory as always. He’s an absolute treasure. Cooked me breakfast again this morning before I left the house.”
“Bloody hell, you’ve got him well trained.”
Sara sniggered. “Hardly, he wants to do nice things for me. Doesn’t Gary ever bend over backwards to make you feel special?”
“Nope, next question.”
Sara shot her partner a quick look. “That’s a shame. Are you sure you’re a good match, Carla?”
“Do you mind paying attention to the road? You’re making me nervous.”
Sara’s gaze drifted back to the road ahead. “Sorry. You haven’t answered my question.”
“Is it obligatory? You know we usually end up having a tiff every time my love life is discussed.”
“Do we? Can’t say I’ve noticed that. I care about you, love, sorry if that’s wrong of me.”
“It’s not.” Carla sighed. “Sara, not everyone has a lovey-dovey relationship like you do. You’re lucky to have found a man like Mark, who treats you as an equal. Most women aren’t that fortunate.”
“Are you referring to yourself there?”
“Maybe. I haven’t decided just yet. Gary is still dealing with getting used to his injuries after the accident. I guess we need to take tentative steps, see what each day brings us.”
“That’s been months, though, love. He should have recovered well enough by now. What’s his physio said, anything?”
“It’s going to take time and that we both need to be patient.”
“That must be frustrating for both of you to handle.”
Carla let out a heavy sigh. “It’s worse for him. My feelings don’t count, not really.”
Sara gasped. “Of course they do. You have a God-given right to a life of your own. You’re still young, don’t waste it, Carla.”
“Waste what, my life? I’m with the man I love, how can that be deemed as wasting my life?” Carla snapped.
Sara squirmed in her seat. It hadn’t been her intention to start a row with her partner; all she was trying to do was to give Carla her support, if that’s what she needed. Gary had treated her appallingly over the past year or so since his accident. They had broken up once but got back together after they had both been abducted by someone Gary owed money to. That incident, against Sara’s better judgement, had brought them closer together. Something Sara could foresee causing problems in the future. She decided to let Carla’s question hang in the air between them and concentrate on the satnav instructions instead.
They passed the Premier Inn, and Sara took a right at the roundabout. “What’s the name of the missing person? You’d better fill me in before we get there.”
Carla flicked open her notebook. “Jennifer Moore, she’s a mobile hairdresser. Her husband reported her missing yesterday—actually, Saturday night—but he was told to leave it twenty-four hours and to call back if she hadn’t returned in that time. She hadn’t, so he rang the station last night.”
“Why are we only just hearing about this now?”
“My fault. I rang the reception desk, keen to know if there were any new crimes that could be of interest to us, and bingo, Jeff thought this one might be a good match, considering the couple of missing person cases we’ve successfully solved in the last eighteen months. I know it’s not our preferred crime to deal with, but I thought I’d take a punt anyway.”
“I hear you. It’s better to be busy rather than sitting on our hands back at the station, although, saying that, I’m sure I could find some much-needed paperwork I could wade through at a push.”
“Yeah, but would that be enough fun to fill your day?”
Sara took her eyes off the road for a secon
d, faced Carla and smiled. “Hardly. What’s the husband’s name?”
“Alex Moore.”
“Okay, here we are now. Let’s see what the rub is.”
They exited the vehicle. Sara pressed the key fob to lock the doors and approached the quaint cottage tucked back off the road behind a large privet hedge. Once they had found the path leading up to the front door, Sara gasped at the stunning garden, a rainbow of colours before them. “Bloody hell, look at this. How old are these people?”
“What’s that got to do with anything?”
“You don’t expect youngsters to have the time to look after a garden as well as this. Even Mum and Dad’s garden is poor by comparison, and they’re out there all the time.”
“Doh, maybe they have a gardener come in a few times a week to tend to it.”
Sara clicked her fingers. “Good shout. I never thought of that. Thanks for pointing out the obvious, I think my brain is still recovering from the weekend barbecue we had.”
“Why wasn’t I invited?”
“Oh, umm… well…”
Carla laughed. “I was joking. You have your own life to lead outside work hours, boss.”
“Actually, we went to our neighbours’ house. We take it in turns to host either a dinner party or a barbecue.”
“That’s so cool. Glad you guys get along so well. Back to work, eh?”
Sara waved a hand, still awestruck by the glorious view of the garden from the gate. “Sorry. You’re right.”
They wound their way up the snaking path to an oak door with a large ring as a knocker at head height. Sara knocked and searched for her ID in her jacket pocket.
The door was opened within a few seconds by a man in his thirties. His brow furrowed with concern. “Hello. Are you the police?”
Sara and Carla both flashed their warrant cards, and Sara asked, “Yes, sir. Is it Mr Moore?”
“That’s right. Come inside. I need to sit down. My legs are all shaky standing here.”
“No problem.”
They followed him through the cottage. He needed to duck to get through the doorframe to the lounge. A huge inglenook fireplace greeted them.
“Have you been here long, Mr Moore?”
“Around four years, I suppose. Jennifer had driven past this place with a keen eye for a while. As soon as the ‘For Sale’ board went up, she was on the phone to the agent straight away.”
“It’s beautiful. Out of interest, how do you manage to keep on top of the garden? It’s absolutely stunning.”
“Thank you. We inherited its excellent condition and employ the gardener who created it. Neither Jennifer nor I know the first thing about gardening, that was the one drawback I could see buying this place. Anyway, that’s not why you’ve come to see me. Take a seat. Can I get you a drink or something?” He motioned towards the crystal glass half-filled with amber liquid, sitting on the table next to a cosy easy chair. “I needed something strong to calm my nerves. They’ve been in tatters since Saturday night.”
Sara and Carla sat on the sofa close to the unlit fire. “We’ll decline, thanks. Sorry it’s taken so long for us to get back to you. In instances such as this our hands are tied until the first twenty-four hours have passed.”
“Yeah, I get that. It doesn’t help the family deal with the stress any better knowing that the police refuse to help. Sorry, I’m angry, I didn’t mean to take it out on you. I appreciate you’re only doing your job to the best of your ability.”
“We have to follow the limitations put in place. To be fair, most people who are reported missing generally show up after a few hours.”
“I get that. But this was different. My wife’s life could be in danger. She agreed to meet someone, and I haven’t heard from her since. Surely that’s different to someone just going missing because they wanted to have a break from their family troubles or something along those lines, isn’t it?”
“Yes, sir. Okay, you have our full attention. We’re going to do our very best to find your wife and bring her home. Perhaps you can tell us what you know about this meeting she attended?”
“She received a call from a woman in desperate need to have her hair done for some sort of award ceremony. Jen doesn’t usually take on new clients, but she broke her own rules for this woman because she sounded so desperate. She told Jen that her normal hairdresser had let her down at the last minute and that she would double her fee if she could fit her in. We’re in the process of saving for an exotic holiday to the Maldives, therefore Jen jumped at the chance to help the woman out.”
“I see. And can you tell us where she was due to meet?”
His head dipped. “No, I switched off, the live match was on and… I feel really bad about not taking notice of what she was telling me, especially in the circumstances. You can imagine what horrors have been going through my mind every time I think of Jen showing up there and not reporting back to me. Sorry, that sounded bad, I mean checking in with me. My mind is a mess.”
“I can imagine. Can you give me your wife’s phone number? We’ll try and trace the call.”
He reeled off the number, and Carla jotted the information down in her notebook.
“What about the client’s name, did you get that?”
“Yes, Jilly Smallcombe,” he said, without hesitation.
“Ah, that’s a start, at least. We’ll check through the records available to us and try to locate the woman ASAP. Maybe you can give me an idea of what type of character your wife is?”
He scratched the side of his neck and heaved out a sigh. “She’s what you would call temperamental, I suppose. Most of the time she’s easy-going, but there are certain things that push her buttons, and when that happens, she erupts like Mount Vesuvius.”
“Care to enlighten us about what those triggers are?” Sara asked, intrigued.
“Any type of sports, she hates them. Also, when I tend to come home drunk from the pub via a taxi. I suppose she thinks the money would be better spent on a holiday rather than lining a landlord’s and a taxi driver’s pockets.”
“Anything else?”
“She detests people who are stupid, you know, who ask daft questions.”
“In what respect?”
“Any respect. She’s quite well-educated, she trained to be a solicitor but she’s always said it was her calling to be a hairdresser. Yeah, I know, hard to figure that one out, isn’t it? A vast difference in salaries, that’s for sure. I put up with it because it keeps her happy.”
“And she’s a mobile hairdresser, is that right?”
“Yes, she has an extensive client list. Booked up for months, she is. People rarely let her down for fear they won’t get another slot for weeks. She’s good at her job, very professional. Has all the right gear to ply her trade.”
“And her vehicle? Does she travel by car or does she have some kind of professional van at her disposal?”
“No, just a basic car. It’s nothing special, a Ford estate. She’s thought about getting a van but would rather visit people’s homes instead of turning up expecting her clients to climb in the back of a van. This time of year, they can be stuffy as hell and in the winter as cold as an igloo, that’s what discouraged her from buying one in the end. Plus, it would have cost a fortune to set up. That’s the whole idea of being a mobile hairdresser, to keep the costs low.”
“I can understand that. And your wife hasn’t had any other dealings with this Jilly Smallcombe in the past?”
“No, none at all. Christ, why did she take the bloody job on in the first place? It’s not like we need the money, not really, and she went against her work ethics, too.”
“Meaning what?”
“Not fitting someone in off the cuff like that. She’s fastidious about keeping her appointments structured. She allows herself half an hour for lunch every day and rarely works evenings.”
“So why did she change her mind this time? Because of the money?”
“Yes, it proved too tempting to resi
st and…”
“And?” Sara prompted, easing forward in her seat.
“And I guess I ticked her off by saying I’d invited a few of the guys around to watch a match on TV. She was far from impressed.”
“Ah, that makes sense. I take it you’ve rung her mobile?”
He looked at Sara and raised an eyebrow. “You think I’m stupid or something?”
“No, it was a simple question.”
“I did. It didn’t connect. Not sure what that means, maybe her battery ran out or something. I’m as confused about that, along with everything else that’s happened. My wife is missing, and I believe something bad has happened to her. There, I’ve said it out loud. I hope for her sake that I’m way off the mark with that theory. Please, are you going to help me, help her, or not?”
“Of course we are. I’m sorry if we’ve given you the impression we’re not interested, nothing could be further from the truth. It’s our job to investigate every angle of the missing person’s life. The more you can tell us about her character and her working life the easier it’s going to be for us to find her.”
“I get that.”
“Good. Now, this is probably an angle you won’t want to divulge. I’m going to ask you some deeply personal questions. It will be in your wife’s best interest if you tell us the truth and don’t hold back.”
“Meaning what?” His eyes bored into hers.
“Can you tell me if you have a happy marriage? Any problems in the past we should know about?”
“No. Definitely not. I love my wife. Yes, she can get shirty with me now and again when I do something to tick her off, but that’s part and parcel of being married, isn’t it?”
“I suppose. When was the last time you fell out with each other?”
“What? You want me to conjure up a specific date, is that what you’re getting at?”
“Just roughly… are we talking about a few weeks, months or years?”
He paused to think for a couple of moments. “Hmm… let me think. Yes, that was it, it was on her birthday, back in May. I had arranged a secret party, invited a few of her friends off Facebook, but when she rolled up thirty minutes later, she was livid that I’d arranged things behind her back and even more furious that she wasn’t dressed for the occasion. There had been a fierce downpour, and she’d got drenched and truly wasn’t looking her best, in her eyes.” He shook his head and continued, “She looked as beautiful as ever to me. But she was having none of it, stormed upstairs and stayed in her room all night. Some of her friends went up to see if she was all right, but she refused point blank to speak to them. So, I sent everyone packing and dumped all the food I’d bought in the bin. She didn’t speak to me for the rest of the week. Eventually, she calmed down enough to forgive me. Which was a relief.”