by James Raven
‘Are you still watching their flat?’ he asked, and this elicited a response from a junior detective named Derek Whelan.
‘We’ve had a man parked in front of their block all night,’ he said. ‘I’ll be relieving him shortly. If they show up there we’ll know it.’
‘Did you go inside?’
Whelan nodded. ‘Hamilton’s mother gave us a key last night and we let ourselves in. The place has been left tidy and the wardrobes are full of clothes. There’s nothing to suggest that they didn’t intend to return.’
‘OK, I think it’s time we sent in a forensic team to examine the flat.’
Whelan then said that many of the neighbours in the block had been spoken to and two detectives were working through the couple’s address books and phone contacts. But so far, no one had been able to shed light on the mystery of their disappearance.
Temple was satisfied that all the angles were being covered.
‘Look, it’s been almost ninety-six hours since they were last seen,’ DC Marsh said. ‘So maybe it’s time we seriously considered the possibility that they’ve been harmed in some way. Who’s to say they were actually in the car when it came back into the city? For all we know, they might be out there in the forest having been beaten up or killed.’
‘If that becomes the most likely scenario then we’ll have to mount a search of the forest,’ Temple said. ‘But it’s far too early for that. There’s no way I’d get it sanctioned, at least not until we’ve checked out all the traffic camera footage.’
‘Searching the forest will be a pointless exercise anyway,’ Whelan said. ‘We’re talking over 200 square miles and we won’t even know where to start looking.’
Temple knew that Whelan was right. The New Forest was a vast expanse of open heath and woodland. There were rivers, lakes, ponds and bogs. Searching it presented a logistical nightmare.
‘This case is going to attract an increasing amount of attention,’ Temple said. ‘So we need to give it priority. Ease back for now on the rest of the workload unless there are any major developments in those investigations. At best, the Hamiltons will turn up soon, wondering what all the fuss is about. At worst we’ll find that something unpleasant has happened to them. So as of this moment we’re ramping things up a gear.’
Temple went on to assign tasks, one of which was to check back through missing person files to see if there had been any similar cases in the area.
They then hurriedly worked through the rest of the agenda. There were no significant updates, which was just as well.
After winding up the meeting, Temple told Marsh to organize a pool car for their trip into the forest. He then went to his tiny office overlooking the docks to check his emails. Nothing had come in that required his immediate attention, except for a message from his boss asking him to pop up when he had a moment.
Chief Superintendent Mike Beresford was a burly Welshman with broad shoulders and a misshapen nose. His hair was short and silver, and the lines in his face were cut deep. His large, carpeted office smelled of wax polish and dried flowers.
‘I heard about the car that’s turned up in Paget Street,’ he said. ‘I don’t like the sound of it, Jeff.’
Temple filled him in on what was happening and pointed out that the couple’s disappearance was now the team’s main focus of attention.
‘I think we ought to schedule a press conference for this afternoon,’ Beresford said. ‘Are you up for that?’
Temple nodded. ‘Of course. We need to generate as much publicity as possible.’
‘I agree. I’ll get the media people working on it. Meanwhile, keep me in the loop. I’ve got a bad feeling about this case so I want to stay on top of it.’
Temple returned to his office to get his jacket and overcoat. Marsh had left a message that she was downstairs waiting in a pool car.
He was on his way down to meet her when his mobile went off, and he answered it without first checking the caller ID.
‘Hello.’
‘Hi, Jeff. It’s Hilary. I got your message.’
He carried on descending the stairs as he spoke to her.
‘I’m really sorry about Grant,’ he said. ‘I can imagine what a shock it must have been for you.’
‘It was terrible, Jeff. I still can’t believe he’s dead. It was so sudden.’ Her voice was so thin he could barely hear it.
‘Were you with him when it happened?’
‘I was. We were at a book signing in West Quay. He just suddenly came over really bad and then collapsed with a heart attack. An ambulance came and he stayed conscious until we got to the hospital. But then shortly after we arrived, he had another attack and they couldn’t save him.’
‘Jesus, that’s awful.’
‘It was so unexpected. One minute he was fine and enjoying all the attention, and the next he was as white as ivory and struggling to breathe.’
‘What about you, Hilary? Are you OK?’
‘I suppose so. I just got back from his house, which felt strange. I had to pick up some paperwork. I’m afraid it falls on me to organize the funeral and such.’
‘So is there anything I can do to help?’
After a long, stilted pause, she said, ‘You can meet me today, Jeff. I know you’re always very busy, but there’s something I need to tell you.’
She spoke in a voice that sounded strangely conspiratorial and he felt his brow furrow.
‘Oh? What is it?’
‘I’d rather not talk about it over the phone. It has to do with what Grant told me in the ambulance just before he died. I can’t get it out of my mind and I’m really concerned about it.’
‘It sounds serious.’
‘To be honest, I’m not really sure. But it is weird, and I think I should tell someone.’
‘So why me, Hilary? Isn’t there someone else you can speak to?’
‘You’re a policeman, Jeff,’ she said, with heavy emphasis on the word policeman. ‘You’ll know what to do about it. Or at least I think you will.’
The tension in her voice was almost palpable and it immediately aroused his curiosity. He knew Hilary to be a sensible, level-headed person, not given to exaggeration or overreaction.
‘I can meet up with you later today,’ he said. ‘Will you be at home?’
‘Probably, but call me first to be on the safe side.’
‘I’ll do that and in the meantime, try to relax. You’ve had a terrible shock.’
‘I will, Jeff,’ she said. ‘And thanks for agreeing to see me. I really need to get this thing off my chest.’
6
The New Forest National Park lies just a few miles west of Southampton. It had always been one of Temple’s favourite places. He and Erin had spent countless weekends walking across the heaths and exploring the quaint little villages and towns. There were only a few areas in the country that he felt were as beautiful and unspoilt.
As he and DC Marsh drove along the A35 towards Lyndhurst, his spirits were lifted by the sight of the lush landscape on either side of the road. One minute they were hemmed in by dark, dense woods and the next the scene opened up to reveal expanses of moorland where cattle and ponies grazed.
His thoughts inevitably turned to Grant Mason and he asked Marsh if she’d heard of him.
‘I know he writes books about the forest because you’ve mentioned his name a couple of times in the office,’ she said.
‘That’s right. Well, I heard this morning that he died of a heart attack yesterday at a book signing in town.’
Marsh, who was driving, turned to him and arched her brow.
‘My God – that’s so sad.’
Temple told her that the author’s personal assistant was an old friend.
‘I have four of his books on a shelf at home,’ he said. ‘Erin and I were keen hikers and before she died, we followed some of the trails in Mason’s first walking guide.’
Temple explained that the trails were never too long or difficult, and they were alway
s interesting. Mason wrote about the wildlife, the flowers, the trees and the colourful history of the forest. It was no wonder he’d become something of a local celebrity.
‘I actually read something about him a couple of weeks ago,’ Marsh said. ‘There was an article in one of the Sunday magazines.’
‘I read it too,’ Temple said, and he recalled how the feature writer had penned a short, glowing review of A Hiker’s Guide to the New Forest. He’d described Mason as a talented author who’d done a great deal to promote the area.
‘So what was he like?’ Marsh asked.
Temple thought about it. ‘I didn’t really get to know him. We met at a couple of social functions and our conversations rarely lasted longer than a few minutes. But I sensed he was a bit shy and standoffish. Or maybe he was just uncomfortable talking to a copper. We both know that a lot of people are.’
‘Have you spoken to your friend Hilary?’
‘She returned my call just before I left the office. In fact, she wants to talk to me about something Mason told her just before he died. It’s got her rattled.’
‘Why?’
‘I don’t know. She didn’t want to tell me about it over the phone.’
‘Did she give a reason?’
‘No, she didn’t. But she’s obviously worried about it.’
Marsh pursed her lips. ‘Perhaps he revealed some deep, dark secret from his past.’
Temple shrugged. ‘I’ll find out soon enough. I said I’d go and see her later today.’
‘Well don’t keep it to yourself once she’s told you,’ Marsh said. ‘You know how I like a good mystery.’
The sky was a grey blanket over the forest as they followed the road that Bob and Rosemary Hamilton had driven along on Saturday.
They reached Lyndhurst after twenty minutes. The town was often referred to as the capital of the New Forest and as such, it was a popular tourist destination. But at this time of the year it was fairly quiet.
The King’s Tavern was about a mile the other side of the town. Turning off the main road, they passed over a cattle grid and drove across a narrow stone bridge.
The pub was typical of those found in the forest – small, quaint and with plenty of character. Temple had stopped off here once with Erin during a hike some years ago. The memory flashed in his mind as they came to a stop in the gravel car park.
He was surprised how much he suddenly remembered of the visit. It had been a warm day so they’d sat in the garden out back, enjoying pints of cold lager and a ploughman’s lunch. About six months later, Erin suddenly got sick and they found the cancer.
The pub’s interior hadn’t changed at all since then. It was like stepping back in time. The public bar had a low ceiling and a huge inglenook fireplace. Dark wood furniture and panelled walls made it homely, if slightly claustrophobic.
The landlady introduced herself as Leticia Keenan. She was in her fifties with an oval face, framed by shapeless brown hair that was liberally streaked with grey.
The place had only just opened and there were no customers. Mrs Keenan asked them if they wanted something to drink from the bar and Temple declined politely for both of them.
‘Well, at least let me get you some tea or coffee,’ she said.
‘Thanks but we’ve both consumed enough caffeine already today,’ Temple said. ‘Would you mind if we just had a chat about Saturday?’
They sat at a window table with a view of the car park. Temple produced a photograph of Bob and Rosemary Hamilton and showed it to Mrs Keenan.
‘On the phone, you told DC Marsh that the couple stopped here for lunch,’ Temple said. ‘Are you absolutely sure it was them?’
Mrs Keenan’s eyes crinkled a bit at the edges as she examined the photo.
‘It was definitely them,’ she said. ‘I remember clearly.’
‘So what time did they arrive?’
She replied without hesitation. ‘Just before noon. They came up to the bar and ordered two lemonades.’
‘How did they seem?’
‘Like they were enjoying themselves. They asked if we did sandwiches so I showed them the snack menu and they both opted for cheese and ham, plus a bowl of fries. After I took the order, I asked them if they were local and they said they lived in Southampton. They told me they were going to a hotel in Christchurch and seemed quite excited about it.’
‘And it was just the two of them,’ Marsh said. ‘There was nobody with them?’
‘They were alone. I’m certain of that because they were my only customers. It was just like it is now. In fact, they sat at this very table.’
‘So what happened next?’ Temple asked.
Mrs Keenan shrugged. ‘Nothing much. I saw them chatting while I waited for my husband to make the sandwiches.’
‘Do you know what they were chatting about?’
‘They had a map of the forest with them and they were both looking at it. When I brought their lunch over, they asked me if I could direct them to the Knightwood Oak.’
‘The what?’ Marsh said.
‘The Knightwood Oak is one of the oldest trees in the forest,’ Temple said. ‘It’s been there for over 500 years.’
‘It’s a popular tourist attraction in the summer months,’ Mrs Keenan explained. ‘Mr Hamilton told me they wanted to take some pictures of the tree and some of the other forest landmarks while they were passing through.’
‘And you told them how to get there?’
‘Of course. It’s actually only a mile or so from here and easy to find.’
‘Did they actually have a camera with them?’
She gnawed at her lip as she cast her mind back, then nodded. ‘After they finished their lunch and went outside, I saw them taking pictures of each other with the pub in the background.’
After asking a few more questions, Temple thanked the landlady and they left the pub. In the car park he called DS Vaughan on his mobile.
‘I’ve got a question for you, Dave,’ he said. ‘Was there a camera in the Honda? It might have been in the luggage.’
‘Negative, guv. I’ve been through it all myself. Why’d you ask?’
‘Because we’ve discovered that the pair stopped in the forest on their way to Christchurch to take some photos.’
‘Well, then, they must have the camera with them,’ Vaughan said.
Temple ended the call and told Marsh to hand him the keys to the pool car.
‘I’ll drive,’ he said. ‘I know how to get to the old tree.’
They drove further along the A35 and turned right onto a minor road that brought them to a small parking area. From there, they had a short walk along a narrow path to the huge tree known as the Knightwood Oak. It was behind a low wooden fence that was there to help protect its roots. It towered above a clump of smaller trees and bushes. There was no one else around, which was hardly surprising given that it was a dull wintry day.
‘We can’t even be sure they came here,’ Marsh pointed out.
Temple pressed his lips together, igniting deep lines around his mouth. ‘For now let’s assume they did. It won’t hurt to have a quick look around.’
‘It’s certainly an impressive tree,’ Marsh said. ‘I can see why they would have wanted to take a photo of it.’
They strolled around the outside of the fence, taking in the scene. A light breeze stirred the bare branches of the trees and lifted some of the dead leaves off the ground.
‘Mrs Keenan basically backed up what Hamilton’s mother told us,’ Temple said. ‘Her son and his wife were in good spirits when they set out from home and they were looking forward to the evening ahead. So what could have made them change their minds and go back to Southampton?’
‘It would help if we were able to track their journey from this point,’ Marsh said. ‘But that’s near impossible since there are no traffic cameras for miles.’
They paused for a few moments to admire the huge tree and Temple could see why his distant ancestors had regarded it as the
monarch of the forest. It was a truly awesome sight.
They then headed back along the path to the car park, their eyes scouring the ground for any clue that would prove the couple had come here on Saturday. But there was nothing to be found, not even a scrap of discarded litter.
7
Temple decided to drop in on Hilary Dyer on the way back to the station. He gave her a quick call first to make sure she’d be in. She lived in the north east corner of the city so it only entailed a short detour.
He wanted to see her as soon as he could because he didn’t like to think of her worrying about what Grant Mason had said. She had enough on her plate, coping with the grief and trauma of his death.
Temple had always liked Hilary and he could well understand why Erin had been so fond of her. She was kind, intelligent, quick-witted. Since her husband died, Temple had made a point of staying in touch and had occasionally met her for coffee in town.
She lived in a pre-war terraced house at one end of a street that had seen better days. It happened to be close to where DC Marsh lived.
‘My flat’s just around the corner,’ Marsh said. ‘But I’ll be moving out next month, thank God.’
‘Does that mean you’ll be moving in with your boyfriend?’
She grinned. ‘At long last. Did I tell you that he proposed to me and I accepted?’
‘You did,’ Temple said. ‘In fact, that’s all you’ve spoken about for weeks.’
He was pleased for Marsh because he reckoned it was time she settled down. She was thirty-four and her last long-term relationship had ended badly, leaving her with serious self-esteem issues and a total lack of self-confidence.
‘What about you, guv?’ she said. ‘How are things going now that you and Angel are living together?’
‘Couldn’t be better,’ he said. ‘And I meant to tell you that she should be back at work in a few weeks.’
Her face lit up. ‘That’s terrific. I’ll pop over and see her at the weekend if that’s OK.’
‘Of course it is. We haven’t got anything planned.’