Chasing Ghosts: A Detective Jack Buchan Novel

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Chasing Ghosts: A Detective Jack Buchan Novel Page 3

by Michael Fowler


  ‘I’m not aware that she’s been reported missing Mrs Callaghan. Her name doesn’t ring any bells. Do you think she might have come to some harm then?’ enquired Jack.

  She nodded and then shrugged her shoulders. ‘I know we’re not the closest of friends but I just think she’d at least let me know she was all right.’

  ‘And do you think her boyfriend Toby may have harmed her.’

  She pursed her lips, ‘He was in a bit of a state.’

  Jack started to push himself up locking onto Tammy Callaghan’s probing eyes. ‘Tammy I want us to go to another room, there’s a number of questions I want to ask you and I want to record it. Is that okay?’

  7

  As best he could, given that the chairs were hard plastic, Jack tried to make himself comfortable in the video interview room.

  Fabi had got them all a hot drink from the machine along the corridor and passed three compressed paper cups filled with unappetizing looking coffee around the desk.

  Jack switched on the recorder. ‘Tammy I want to ask you a number of questions about Carrie Jefferies so I can build up a picture about her and about what happened last Sunday. Are you okay with that?’

  Tammy nodded pulling her cardboard cup towards her.

  ‘First of all tell me a little about Carrie. I know you said you didn’t know much about her, but you obviously know some things, so just give us what you can. Tell me a little about her character, what you know about her, where she comes from etcetera.’

  She wrapped her hands around her coffee cup but didn’t pick it up. She set her eyes upon the wishy-washy liquid surface and without looking up said, ‘It’s like you’ve just said, I don’t know that much about Carrie. We’ve only talked to one another on a dozen, or so, occasions in the two and a half years she and Toby have been down here. It’s Toby I know more about. Well I say I know more about. I only know about him because of my husband James. Like I said earlier he’s an artist like Toby. They met at an exhibition in London a couple of years ago and when James introduced himself, and told him where he lived, Toby said he’d just inherited his parents place overlooking Merthen Point, which is not far from us. He told James he’d turned one of the rooms into his studio and he invited him to visit. James went a couple of times to his house and then he invited Toby back to our house for a meal and that’s how I met him and Carrie.’ She rolled the cup back and forth, her eyes firmly fixed on the coffee’s now rippling surface. ‘To be honest the first time we met I took an instant dislike to him. He was so arrogant, so cock-sure of himself, going on about everything he’d achieved as an artist. I mean he is a good artist, there’s no denying that. His paintings are beautiful, but it just grated on me. James and I are not that kind of people so whenever he came around, if it wasn’t for a meal, I used to leave James and him to it. To be fair Toby has helped James a little. He’s introduced him to a couple of the galleries he exhibits at in London.’ She lifted her eyes, ‘James gets on well with him but I’m afraid I didn’t see beyond his big-headedness. I got on better with Carrie.’ She took a deep breath and her tenseness slackened. ‘Carrie was completely different to Toby – she was nice. ‘Her mouth broke into a thin smile. ‘By that I mean she was so easy to get on with. And she had this gorgeous Australian accent. The first night I met her she came into the kitchen while I was preparing the food. She’d left James and Toby talking in the lounge and asked me if she could have another glass of wine. We just got chatting and she said something about how ‘up-their-arses’ the pair were about their art. That broke the ice and we just got on after that. She asked me how I’d met James and then told me she’d met Toby at an exhibition she’d attended in London and he’d introduced himself by asking if he could paint her.’

  ‘That’s a different chat up line,’ interrupted Fabi.

  Tammy shared a smile with her. ‘It may have been, but Toby is what they call a figurative painter, and Carrie does have a lovely figure and striking features and I think at the time it was an approach which was nothing more than that he wanted to paint her. Anyway, she told me she sat for him a couple of times, and she said that the paintings were really good and went down well at the gallery where he exhibits, and so she sat for him some more, and after six months they ended up in a relationship. She did share with me, when we talked that first time, that, like me, she thought that Toby was a bit full-on and cocky, but that as she’d got to know him more she’d since seen a different side to him.’

  Jack interceded, ‘Did Carrie tell you any more about herself? You said she had an Australian accent. Was she Australian?’

  ‘She said she was from a place in New South Wales and that she was supposedly on a tour of Europe, but that had changed since she’d met Toby and she didn’t know what was next for her. Well anyway, during that first meal, James and Toby got wrapped up in their art again and Carrie and I just got talking about all kinds of things. She made a comment about how beautiful the cove where we lived was and asked me how long we’d lived here. Then that led on to her telling me that there were some equally beautiful sights in Australia but that everything was so far away, compared to how everything seemed so close together in this country. We got on to talk about Toby’s house – she introduced it. She said she loved how it overlooked Merthen Point and how she loved walking down to the cove, and she hinted that she’d more than likely stay a bit longer, depending how things went with him.’ She paused and glanced at Jack and Fabi. ‘That’s it I’m afraid in terms of her background. They’ve both been quite a few times to our house since and we’ve been a couple of times up to their place. Carrie’s a wonderful cook, she puts me to shame.’

  ‘What about the time Toby got drunk? You said he picked on Carrie. You also said she made a comment to you about her “being used to it”. Did you witness any other times when he was verbally abusive to her?’

  She fixed Jack’s stare. ‘I have done a couple of times. Toby liked a drink, and at the end of most of our evening’s he was always the worse for wear, but generally he was good natured. Some of the nights have been really good fun and we’ve had some really good laughs together. But this past year I’ve seen a different side to him. By the end of some of our recent times together he’s started having a dig at Carrie – picking on her for no reason. You could tell she didn’t like it but she tried to dismiss it. She had this nervous laugh and she’d try to shrug it off, telling us that he didn’t mean any harm, and that he’d regret what he said the next day and be apologising to her. But I’m afraid, me being me, I’ve stuck up for her a couple of times recently and that’s made him worse.’

  ‘When you say worse?’

  ‘I don’t mean violent, as in hitting her or anything, but he’d get really nasty with her.’

  ‘By nasty, what do you mean?’

  ‘It was nearly always to do with his art. He’d go on like he did, about how good he was and how much he was selling his paintings for, and she’d end up looking across at me and giving an exaggerated yawn, which I’d laugh at. A couple of times when he’d gone on too long she’d say something like, “can we change the subject” and he just flipped. He’d start shouting, calling her stupid, telling her that she knew nothing about art.’ Pausing, she pushed away her untouched coffee before continuing, ‘That’s what started it on Saturday evening – talking about his painting. She said something about being fed up with all the sitting and posing for hours on end, and he reacted by saying something like, “You’d be nothing if it wasn’t for me. No one would know you or even take a second look at you. I make you look beautiful you silly cow.” I couldn’t believe it. I just felt I needed to say something in her defence. I told him she was beautiful no matter how well he painted his picture and he just snapped back at me and asked me what I knew about beauty in a woman – was I a dyke.’ Tammy bounced her gaze from Jack to Fabi. ‘I was livid. I told him he was drunk and that I thought it was time for him to leave. He just got up and said he’d had enough of our company anyway and that we should b
e grateful. If it wasn’t for him James wouldn’t have got the galleries in London.’ She clenched her hands and tightened her mouth. ‘That was it, I told him he was a fucking piss-head and to fuck off. I’ve not sworn like that for years but he just got to me.’

  Fabi let out a sharp laugh and it lightened the tension in Tammy.

  She let out a short laugh herself. ‘They left after that. As I say, James helped Toby into his car and Carrie drove off.’

  ‘And you’ve not seen or heard from Carrie since?’

  Tight-lipped Tammy shook her head. ‘As I said, I’ve left Carrie a couple of voicemails on her mobile but she’s not come back to me, and the last time I rang her phone two days ago it went straight to voicemail which makes me think her phone is dead.’

  ‘And what about Toby? You said earlier that he’d rung you to see if you’d heard from her?’

  ‘Yes he’s rung a couple of times. I answered the phone once, but I didn’t want to talk to him so passed the phone to James and he’s spoken with him. I know at first James said he thought that Carrie was just giving Toby a taste of his own medicine, but when we’ve talked about it I can see that James is just as concerned as me. He thinks something bad might have happened to Carrie as well.’

  8

  In the front passenger seat of the CID car, Fabi Nosenzo flipped open her faux leather work folder across her lap and started skip-reading the front sheet of the Missing Persons Aide Memoir, reminding herself of its content. She had completed many of these forms over the past four years, the majority of them being for teenagers who had run away for a couple of days – usually because of something that had happened in their lives. On each occasion those teenagers had returned none the worse for wear, unconcerned about the angst they had caused their family or carers. When she had sat down with them to discuss their disappearance and gone through things in detail, the conclusion had generally been that in the grand scheme of things the reason and nature for their departure had been pretty insignificant. However, this one featuring Carrie Jefferies was different. Her disappearance had an element of mystery behind it, especially that there was the possibility of a foul deed being done. This case gave her goose-bumps.

  She looked up from the page and glanced at the road ahead to check where they were. They were travelling steadily along the winding B3315 and she had time to take in the features they were passing. She recognised that they were passing through the hamlet of Sheffield. She turned to her mentor Jack. He had one hand on the steering wheel whilst the other gripped the gearstick. He was staring out through the windscreen but she had the feeling from his studious look that his thoughts were elsewhere. She wondered, if like her, he was thinking about their forthcoming visit to Toby Alexander’s house.

  She said, ‘What do you think then?’

  Without taking his eyes off the road Jack responded, ‘What do I think of what?’

  ‘About this job?’

  In a steady voice he answered, ‘I have to say, from that chat with Tammy Callaghan I’m suspicious Fabi. The fact that this Toby Alexander fellow we’re going to see had a blazing row with his girlfriend five days ago, while in a drunken stupor, and that no one's heard from her since makes me very concerned. Very concerned indeed.’

  ‘Are we going to bring him in?’

  ‘We’re going to have a little talk first and see what he has to say about things and just check if he’s spoken with her during these last five days. And we’ll also do a search of his place and see what we come up with. See if there’s anything untoward.’

  Fabi studied his face again. He was still staring out through the windscreen – his striking blue eyes fixed on the road ahead. Suddenly, for no apparent reason, some of the conversation she had overheard between Jack and the Detective Inspector that morning jumped inside her head prompting her to query, ‘Do you mind if I ask you something?’

  Keeping his gaze still ahead he answered, ‘If its money you’re after I’m skint.’

  She grinned. ‘No it’s not money. It’s about something the gaffer said to you this morning.’

  His eyebrows knitted together, ‘What was that then?’

  ‘He said to you “welcome back to the fold.” When I got my placement for CID, and they told me I was coming to Penzance, and that you were going to be my mentor, I asked a few of my colleagues about you and I got the impression that you were almost a fixture in CID…’

  ‘Fixture!’ he cried, darting her a quick glance.

  ‘Sorry Jack I didn’t mean it like that. Those are my words not theirs. What some of them actually said, was that you were a steady guy, that you’d been in CID a long time at Penzance and that you were well thought of and a great detective.’

  ‘You recovered well there Fabi. You’ll make a good CID officer yet.’

  ‘That’s the truth Jack. The people I talked with made nice comments about you. They said I couldn’t wish to work with anyone better.’

  ‘That’s alright then. As long as I’m not regarded as a fixture.’

  Crestfallen she replied, ‘I’m sorry Jack. I didn’t mean it like that. I feel awful now. Have I got off on the wrong foot?’

  The corners of his mouth turned up, ‘I’m playing with you Fabi. I am a steady guy. I know that, and yes I have been at Penzance a long time, but that’s to my advantage. I know all the villains there and I know what they’re up to. There’s very little of what goes on in that place gets past me.’

  Fabi caught the intensity and sharpness in his eyes as he dashed across a look. She issued an apologetic smile. ‘You forgive me then?’

  ‘You’re forgiven.’

  She heaved a sigh of relief, ‘Good.’ Then, following a few seconds pause she said, ‘So just picking back up on what I was going to ask you before I got side-tracked. Just before the DI introduced me he welcomed you back. He made it sound as if you’d been away a while. Have you been off doing something else? Been on another job elsewhere?’

  Without looking her way, he said, ‘No, I’ve been off sick for a few months. I only came back ten days ago.’

  As he answered Fabi explored his look. While his voice wavered and his reply was hurried his expression remained dead-pan and he never once diverted his glance like he had done a few seconds earlier. She read something in that which intrigued her, though the impression she got from his rejoinder told her she shouldn’t take this conversation any further. For some strange reason she felt as though she had put her foot in it again and she dropped her gaze back to her Missing Persons Aide Memoir. And, while she wanted to ask him more, her sub-conscious was telling her not to probe any further. She decided to listen to it – at least for now.

  9

  Taking the next left after the signpost to Boskenna, they turned onto a single track road flanked by ancient flint and granite stone walls, which Jack carefully negotiated for several hundred metres until they came to a gateway where a black slate plaque scripted with fading white paint announced their arrival at ‘Renaissance Cottage’. They entered a driveway covered with loose gravel, which sent up loud crunching noises no matter how slowly Jack drove.

  There goes my surprise attack, he said to himself, screwing up his face. Seconds later he drew up outside a stone built cottage capped with moss covered slate. The front door was protected by an elaborately carved Victorian wooden porch painted white. He mused that the place certainly had an element of charm. As he stepped out of the car the front door opened and a man stepped into the Victorian porch. For a moment he appeared to be watching them through the small window panes, unmoving, and then in one quick movement he snatched open the porch door and strode out onto the driveway.

  Jack found himself faced by a slim, mid-thirties male, with dark, glistening, collar length, unruly hair, and a weather-beaten tanned complexion, who reminded him of the actor who played Ross Poldark in the TV series. He hadn’t visualised Toby Alexander as being such a good looking man and, unexpectedly, it brought back a memory of him and his wife watching the series, pic
king out the locations they knew well; in particular, the coastal path from Botallack to Levant where the mining scenes had been filmed. It had been a regular walk of theirs when they had first met: When Claire had been healthy. Quickly dismissing the reminiscence, and recovering, he enquired, ‘Toby Alexander?’

  ‘Can I help you?’ the voice was challenging.

  Jack whipped out his warrant card from his inside coat pocket, held it up and introduced himself and Fabi, adding, ‘We’re from Penzance CID.’

  Toby bounced his gaze from one detective to the other. ‘Is this about Carrie?’

  Poker-face Jack replied, ‘Yes we’re here about Carrie Jefferies, Mr Alexander.’

 

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