Sleep Tight

by Rachel Abbott

  Becky spotted Brookes glancing over at Tom. He must have realised his expressions were being watched, and it was making him uncomfortable. She always felt a bit bad about this. The guy could be going out of his mind with worry. On the other hand…

  ‘Is that your laptop, sir?’ she asked, pointing to a thin leather case on the sofa next to him.

  ‘Yes. I brought it in here in case she called. I’ve tried her repeatedly. But she won’t call now.’

  Tom Douglas interrupted the flow of questioning.

  ‘What makes you so sure she’s not going to call you, Mr Brookes?’

  Robert Brookes put his head back and closed his eyes briefly. ‘Because her laptop’s here. I found it upstairs in the bottom of the wardrobe.’

  ‘And what have you done with it, sir?’ Becky asked.

  ‘I’ve put it on to charge. The battery was flat. I just did it automatically. I often had to remind her to do simple things like that.’ His gaze rested just above Becky’s head, but she could tell he was looking far beyond that, at an image nobody else could see. She would have dearly loved to know what it was.

  ‘Okay, let’s move on. As we understand it, your wife and children are gone, but nothing at all of theirs is missing. No favourite toys, no secret stash of money, no spare mobile, a rarely used credit card – nothing at all?’

  ‘Jesus Christ,’ Robert exploded. ‘How many times am I going to have to repeat this? You should be out looking for her, not asking me to go over all this stuff again. There is absolutely nothing missing. She had no secret stash of money – she didn’t earn anything, and I know where every single penny goes. The kids’ stuff is all here and her one and only mobile is in her fucking handbag. Nothing is missing. Nothing.’

  Except, of course, a woman and three children. But Becky didn’t say that.

  ‘I’m sorry if this is irritating you, Mr Brookes, but I need to check every detail. In your mind, then, your wife went missing sometime between your conversation with her this morning and four o’clock this afternoon?’

  ‘Yes.’ Robert’s teeth were so clenched together that the sound could barely escape.

  ‘Has your wife reported anything strange happening to her recently? Has she felt threatened by anybody? Or have the children mentioned anything unusual – have they been followed or have they spoken to anybody they didn’t know?’

  Robert looked from Becky to Tom and back to Becky again.

  ‘She hasn’t said anything to me, but there might have been something. She may have decided not to tell me, because she knew I would worry when I was away.’

  ‘What do you mean, sir?’ Becky asked.

  ‘There’s nothing concrete, but she hasn’t seemed quite herself recently. She’s been a bit jumpy, nervy. And I’ve heard her whispering to Jasmine a couple of times. I don’t allow whispering in the house. I think it’s divisive. I had to have a word with her about that.’

  Bloody hell, thought Becky. It sounded as if he’d reprimanded his wife. And how would he have done that? Would he have punished her? Had he snapped?

  ‘So you think she had a secret?’

  ‘No, of course it wasn’t a secret. Stop twisting things. I think maybe she was concerned about something, and maybe Jasmine was too. She wouldn’t want me to know if I was going away, because she knew how important this conference was, and she knew for a fact that I wouldn’t go if I was worried about her. But before you ask the inevitable next question, I have no idea what she was concerned about.’

  To Becky’s irritation, her phone began to vibrate at that moment, and she stood up and excused herself.

  10

  Tom hadn’t decided what to make of this situation yet. Olivia hadn’t been expecting her husband home until tomorrow, and given their history it seemed more than likely that she had simply taken the children somewhere and not told Robert. Maybe a friend had picked her up, and although her belongings were in the house Tom couldn’t believe there wasn’t a logical explanation. Trouble seemed to follow this couple around, though, and in his experience that was rarely a coincidence.

  If Olivia had been abducted, according to the original feedback from PC Mitchell she must have let her abductor into the house because there was no sign of a break-in, and no evidence of a struggle either.

  ‘Okay Mr Brookes, if you don’t have any idea who or what was bothering your wife, let’s backtrack a little. Let’s go back to everything that’s happened since the last time you spoke to her. Just talk me through it, please. PC Mitchell can take notes.’

  Robert Brookes leaned his head back on the cushion of the sofa and stared at one of the lifeless paintings on the wall opposite, as if seeking inspiration. Tom saw him give a slight shake of the head and then he sat upright, leaning forwards slightly to rest his forearms on his thighs.

  ‘I spoke to my wife this morning, as usual. I didn’t even give her a hint that I was coming home early to surprise her. I left Newcastle at about one o’clock and drove straight home. I stopped for petrol, if you really want to know that level of detail, and then I called at the flower shop in the high street and a couple of other shops to pick up a few treats – a bottle of wine, some comics for the kids.’

  Robert ran the fingers of his right hand through his hair, leaving it standing up in furry peaks.

  ‘I got back here at just after four – and you can ask the nosey old bag across the road if you don’t believe me, because she saw me arrive. She was, as always, looking out of her window. Mrs Preston, she’s called. Never misses a trick.’

  Tom couldn’t help noticing Robert’s lip curl as he spoke about his neighbour. She was definitely somebody they would need to talk to.

  ‘Go on. What did you find when you got in the house?’

  Robert gave him a puzzled look. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Well, I presume your wife wasn’t here. What did you do? Did you call anybody? Did you check anything? Just walk me through it, please.’

  Robert’s face had a mottled red look about it. ‘For Christ’s sake – I’ve told all this to your mate here.’ He signalled dismissively over his shoulder with his thumb. ‘Why do I need to repeat it? Why aren’t you out looking for her?’

  ‘We would be out looking, sir, if we had the first idea where to start. That’s why I just need you to run through things again for me, if you don’t mind.’

  Robert closed his eyes and clamped his lips together for a few seconds before he continued talking.

  ‘I came in. I shouted and got no reply. Obviously,’ he said with slightly greater emphasis than was entirely necessary. He paused, but as Tom had failed to react to his irritation, he continued. ‘Olivia’s handbag was on the table. I emptied it, and everything was still there. Her wallet, her debit card, her phone – even her bloody house keys were there. I checked the garage. Her car is there. She loves that car, and I can’t imagine her even thinking of going anywhere without it. And then, when I finally remembered to get my suitcase out of the car and took it upstairs, I found her laptop. That’s all I know. She was here this morning, and now she’s gone.’

  And not once have you mentioned the children, Tom thought.

  ‘What would she normally be doing on a Friday afternoon? Was there a pattern? Would she have walked to the shops, had friends round for coffee? What about the children?’

  ‘The children were at school. They finish at three thirty and Olivia would have either driven or walked to pick them up. She wouldn’t have had anybody round.’

  As Robert Brookes finished speaking, the door from the hall opened. It seemed that Becky had caught his last few comments. She glanced at Tom and he gave her a slight nod.

  ‘Mr Brookes, when children go missing one of the first things we do is contact the school. We didn’t think this would wait until Monday, so we tracked down the head teacher and had a word with her. Your children weren’t at school today, were they, Mr Brookes?’

  Tom was watching Robert closely. He didn’t know for sure where this was go
ing, but Brookes’ face was a picture. A muscle twitched in his cheek, and he put a hand up to rub it, but the twitching wouldn’t stop.

  ‘According to Mrs Stokes, the head teacher, you and your wife decided to take the children out of formal education a couple of weeks ago. You decided they were going to be home schooled from now on. Their last day at school was the Friday before the half term holiday – exactly two weeks ago. And nobody has seen or heard from them since.’

  *

  After Becky’s revelation, Robert Brookes had looked from one of them to the other, stood up and left the room without saying a word.

  Tom watched him go, but decided to give him a moment. He needed to talk to Becky.

  ‘What do you reckon then?’ Tom asked.

  Becky shook her head. ‘It’s all a bit weird. According to Mrs Stokes, Olivia Brookes was very close to tears when she pulled the kids out of school, and she – Mrs Stokes, that is – tried hard to persuade her to change her mind. But Olivia said her husband was adamant, and all the papers had been signed.’

  ‘Did she say anything about the children: their behaviour, any signs of abuse, anything at all that we can pursue?’

  ‘No, she said they’re good kids. Jasmine is a bit quiet, but the two boys are like any boys of their age – full of energy, can’t sit still, clumsy – I think the word she used was rumbustious.’

  ‘And the parents? What did she make of them?’

  ‘That’s a different story, I’m afraid. Apparently Olivia Brookes had been struggling a bit lately. On a few occasions she’d forgotten to pick the children up from school. Each time it happened they tried to call her, but there was never an answer, so then they had to call Robert. He always left work and rushed to pick the children up, and Mrs Stokes said he made all sorts of excuses for his wife, but none of them rang true.’

  ‘And what was Olivia’s excuse?’

  ‘She didn’t have one. Just said that she had been confused and thought her husband was picking them up. But since that was something he never did because he had a full-time job, it seemed a bit strange.’

  Tom didn’t like the sound of this one little bit. Why would Robert Brookes want the children taken out of school? Could it be so they wouldn’t be missed? And did Olivia have some stability issues?

  ‘Okay, Becky, we need to get him back in here.’

  ‘Fine – but before we do that, Mrs Stokes told me a couple of other things. During the week, she brought round a box with some of the children’s notebooks so Olivia could see where they were up to in their learning. There was nobody home, which wound her up. “Home schooling means home schooling, not gallivanting around all day,” – or something like that,’ Becky said in a high-pitched voice which Tom assumed was a vague imitation of the head teacher. ‘Anyway she left the box of books with the neighbour across the road.’

  ‘Interesting, but Olivia could have gone shopping, or even taken the kids for an educational trip to a museum for all we know.’

  ‘True, but the lady she left the books with told Mrs Stokes she hadn’t seen anybody here for days. Anyway, the other thing I asked her about was photos. I thought she might give me details of the school photographer so we could get some pictures as they are conspicuous by their absence here.’

  ‘Good thinking,’ Tom said. He was glad to see that Becky’s eyes had regained some of their usual sparkle.

  ‘Well, it might have been a good idea – but to no purpose. Apparently, Olivia Brookes had requested for the last two years that the children didn’t have a school photo taken at all. No explanation given. She just didn’t want any. So we still don’t have any pictures.’

  *

  Becky had asked PC Mitchell to go off and find Robert Brookes, and the young policeman had reported back that Robert was lying on his bed.

  ‘He said he’d be down in a minute, ma’am, but he was muttering about school – says he knew nothing about them being taken out and home schooled.’

  ‘Did you believe him?’ Becky asked.

  ‘I don’t know. He never looks you in the eye, does he? I can’t get a handle on him. Sorry, ma’am.’

  ‘That’s you and me both, I’m afraid.’

  They heard a door slam upstairs and guessed Robert was on his way back down, so they took their seats and waited. He entered the room and moved back towards the sofa, his face pale but with a red flush staining his cheekbones like an angry rash.

  ‘Sorry, but I just needed to take a moment. I don’t know what to say in response to the news from the school. I…’

  ‘That’s okay, Mr Brookes. We’ll come back to it, I’m sure. But for now we need to think about how we can find your wife and children. Are you certain you have no photos at all?’

  Becky was watching Robert Brookes closely. He was shaking his head as if he was totally bewildered. She couldn’t decide if it was real or if he was acting a part.

  ‘I’ve never liked photos around the house. I prefer a few tasteful pieces of art.’ Robert indicated the paintings that adorned the walls, although Becky couldn’t quite reconcile the word ‘tasteful’ with what she was looking at. Not that she would have the first idea, as she had to admit to herself.

  ‘I used to take photos of Olivia, but she didn’t like it. She hated pictures of herself, although I don’t know why. My wife was very beautiful.’

  Becky was silent but she risked a glance at Tom. Had he picked up on the same interesting use of tense? They both waited for Robert to continue.

  ‘I thought we had pictures on our phones and on the computer. There was a box of photos in the drawer too, but I can’t find any. I’m sorry, but I don’t know what’s happened to them all. Olivia must have had a sort out.’

  Much as he wanted to labour the point of the photos, Tom could see that he wasn’t going to get any more sense out of Robert on that subject, so he decided to change tack.

  ‘You said your wife had been on holiday recently, Mr Brookes – for the first week that you were away at this conference in Newcastle.’

  ‘That’s right. We went several times a year, always to the same place in Anglesey. Well, that’s not entirely true. We had always been to the same place, but when Olivia tried to book for October last year, it was closed, so she found somewhere else. I checked out the new place online obviously, and it looked okay from what I could see. I had a word with the landlady, to make sure she sounded a responsible type of person. Given what happened to Olivia’s parents, we’re doubly cautious when it comes to staying in other people’s houses, so I wanted to be clear about security, alarms, that sort of thing. I didn’t have time to go myself, but we were due to go again in July, as soon as school broke up.’

  ‘Can you give me the details and dates, so we can get somebody on the phone to the landlady to check that your wife was there?’

  Robert pursed his lips in obvious irritation. ‘Of course she was bloody there. I spoke to her. She turned the computer round in the room so I could see what it looked like. She even showed me the beach out of the fucking window. There’s no doubt at all that she was there.’

  Tom looked completely unperturbed by his outburst and Becky remembered him telling her that by far the best way to take the sting out of minor tantrums was to ignore them.

  ‘I’m sure you’re right, Mr Brookes, but just give me the details anyway, please. PC Mitchell will write them down, and we’ll get on to the landlady to check a few things out.’

  Robert Brookes grudgingly passed on the information and, closing his notebook, PC Mitchell made his way into the kitchen.

  Tom leaned forwards. ‘Mr Brookes, when DI Robinson spoke to Mrs Stokes, she mentioned there had been some problems with your wife from time to time, forgetting to pick the children up from school being an example. And you say you didn’t know she was taking them out of school. I’m sorry to have to ask this – but in the light of everything we’ve heard tonight, I need to know whether your wife has any mental health issues. Please be honest with us. It may be impor
tant.’

  Robert put his head in his hands, but not before Becky had noticed his eyes cast down and his shoulders slump in a classic pose of shame.

  11

  Tom couldn’t ignore the warning bells ringing loudly in his head. He was sure Robert wouldn’t admit to there being anything wrong with his marriage to Olivia – whether or not that was the case – but Tom had to try to understand her state of mind, to assess whether she had left voluntarily or whether she had been the victim of a crime.

  Robert had finally recovered himself and answered the question about Olivia’s mental health by saying that he’d had a few concerns, but she was just a bit forgetful sometimes. He said they’d managed to create strategies to make it easier for her to remember what she should be doing. Did that mean she could have taken the children somewhere and literally be lost, or have forgotten where she was going? Tom knew that the Manchester and Cheshire police were on the lookout and the hospitals were all being checked, so hopefully if that were the case, they would all be found quickly.

  Tom could see that Becky’s gentle probing was falling on deaf ears as Robert’s eyes had glazed over, his mind apparently somewhere else entirely.

  One other thing was bugging Tom. The house was very orderly. Given that there were three children living here, it was more or less immaculate. Everything seemed to be defined by the word ‘tasteful’, and yet there was something clinical about its perfection. So why then, if Olivia had been here until this morning, was there a fine layer of dust over every piece of furniture?

  The lack of photos was a serious concern. If they had been a family that just didn’t take photographs at all, it might make sense. But the fact that there had been some and now they were missing was difficult to explain. Tom needed somebody to look at the two laptops, and as soon as PC Mitchell had finished talking to the landlady, he could get on to organising that.