by P. F. Ford
‘Oh, I’m sure he’ll be alright,’ said Melanie Crump. ‘He’s gone missing before, and every time I’ve hoped, you know? But he’s like a bad penny. He keeps on turning up.’
Chapter Seven
It was 6.45 am and Slater wasn’t exactly at his best. Not really an early morning person, he was feeling even worse than usual after a mostly sleepless night. He had come in early, expecting to have to go through all their paperwork before he could prepare for this morning’s meeting, but to his delight, someone had done it for him. It was all very neatly organised, and whoever had done it had even written a brief synopsis of each part of the enquiry so far. If this was Darling’s work, and he doubted anyone else would have been responsible, he was impressed.
The doors banged open behind him and she came in, carrying a tray with two coffees and two plates of bacon sandwiches.
‘Morning, Boss.’
‘Morning, Darling. Is this your work?’ He indicated the neat stacks on his desk.
‘It’s okay, isn’t it?’ she asked, tentatively. ‘I just thought it would save a bit of time this morning.’
He smiled at her.
‘Is it okay?’ he said. ‘It’s better than okay, Darling, it’s bloody brilliant. I really wasn’t looking forward to doing that this morning, and now I don’t have to. I can even use your notes for the briefing.’
As she placed the tray on an empty desk, a relieved smile spread across her face.
‘There’s one more thing,’ she said, slipping her bag from her shoulder and retrieving a file from inside it. ‘I took it home to write it up.’
‘So you haven’t been here all night, then?’
‘Not quite, but it was a near thing. Melanie Crump came in last night, just as I was going home. She wanted to know why we had arrested her husband and searched her house. She didn’t make a statement as such, but it was an interesting conversation so I thought I’d make some notes.’
She handed him the file, and then offered him a coffee and a bacon sandwich.
‘You don’t have to make breakfast for me,’ he said. ‘It’s not in your job description. How much do I owe you?’
‘You’re not paying. Look upon it as a peace offering. I was a bit of an idiot yesterday.’
Slater pulled out a chair for himself and one for Darling, and indicated for her to sit with him.
‘That was yesterday,’ he said. ‘Forget it. Today’s another day. You’re not the first keen young detective who got carried away, and you won’t be the last.’
‘But I totally messed up that interview,’ she said, as she slipped into her chair.
‘You didn’t follow the plan, but we would have had to let him go anyway. We didn’t have enough evidence to hold onto him. Did you check his alibi?’
She nodded.
‘The garage did service and valet his van, and they say he did come back for his glasses, just like he said. The guy who was supposed to pick him up was there early, although he says the arrangement was he would pick up Crump if he was there. According to him there was no time agreed.’
‘So who’s telling the truth?’
‘I’m not sure this John Fisher would know honesty if it slapped his face,’ she said. ‘He’s a bit sneaky if you ask me. He thought it was funny leaving Crump stood at the school gates. Hashtag complete arsehole.’
Slater sighed his disappointment.
‘So, barring the one small detail about the timing of the lift, he has near enough confirmed what Crump told us. He was genuinely waiting for a lift, and that explains why he kept looking up and down the road.’
‘So, what do we do now?’ Darling asked.
‘Quite honestly, we’re up shit creek without a paddle,’ Slater said. ‘Standing by a school gate when the kids come out might be suspicious behaviour, but on its own, it’s not actually a crime.’
‘I suppose so. But you have to admit, he is a bit weird isn’t he?’
Slater grinned.
‘We’d fill the cells up in five minutes if we started to arrest people for being weird. Aren’t we all weird in our own way?’ They chewed in silence for a moment before he spoke again. ‘You need to be careful you don’t burn yourself out. You must make sure you get enough sleep.’
‘Yeah, I know I look like shit this morning,’ she said, with a rueful grin, ‘but you don’t exactly look as fresh as a daisy yourself.’
‘That’s just my age.’
‘I couldn’t sleep. I kept thinking about Melanie Crump, and whether I should have called you before I spoke to her.’
‘Do you think she would have been happy waiting another half hour for me to get here?’
‘Hell, no. She was looking for a fight as it was.’
‘So you had to think on your feet, and deal with an irate member of the public, there and then,’ he said. ‘You had to defuse the situation.’
‘Well, yeah, I guess so.’
‘I don’t recall seeing any dead bodies down in reception,’ he said. ‘And Sandy Mollinson tells me you handled the situation just fine. If it had been a question of interviewing her that would have been different, but you did the right thing.’ Slater tapped the folder on the desk next to him. ‘And you’ve made some notes. So stop worrying about it.’
They chewed in silence for a while before Darling spoke again.
‘You didn’t tell Goodnews, did you?’
‘Didn’t tell her what?’
‘That I was behaving like a dork yesterday, and I ruined the interview.’
‘I tell her what I think she needs to know, but that doesn’t always include every little detail,’ said Slater. ‘We’re bound to have differences, especially at this early stage, but we can sort them out for ourselves. We don’t need her to get involved, do we?’
‘I thought you might not want me as a partner,’ she said quietly.
He looked at her sharply.
‘Give me a break. I think I’m prepared to give it a little longer to see if we make a team before I go crying to the boss.’
‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it to sound like that. It’s just that-’
‘Look,’ he said. ‘You’re new to all this, and I’m new to having a young woman, who also happens to be new to all this, as a partner. But, believe me, I’ve worked with some total morons in the past, and one thing I know already is I’d rather be teamed with you than the vast majority of them. We’ll be fine, we’ve just got to give it a little time to get to know each other, that’s all.’
‘Okay’ said Goodnews. ‘What have we got so far? Is this Michael Crump still in the frame?’
It was her idea to have these early morning meetings when they had a big case. Slater knew her theory was quite simple: if she knew what was going on, she wasn’t likely to get any nasty surprises, and, if necessary, she could step in and deflect any flack that might come from above. She wasn’t interested in taking over the case, but she would make suggestions if she thought they might help.
‘He has to be still in the frame because we don’t have anyone else right now,’ said Slater. ‘But his story about his car being serviced checks out. There’s a small query over his claim he was waiting for a lift, but it doesn’t look as if that’s going to be enough to drag him back in for more questions.’
‘You’ll need to be careful there,’ said Goodnews, stating the obvious. ‘That solicitor will come down on us like a ton of bricks if we don’t have a good reason to speak to him again. What about the father? Have you ruled him out?’
‘His alibi checked out,’ said Slater, ‘but he didn’t seem to care his daughter was missing when we spoke to him, and he’s shown no more interest since we found her body.’
‘It wouldn’t hurt to take another look.’
‘Maybe we should go down to his office and poke around. It can’t do any harm, can it?’
‘What other lines of enquiry have you got?’
‘Norm’s found a similar case, in the regional database, from ten years ago. A small girl, sam
e sort of appearance as Chrissy Morrison, disappeared after school and was never seen again. It was in Romsey, about an hour south of here.’
‘Was that a murder?’ asked Goodnews.
‘No body was ever found,’ said Norman. ‘And it’s still an open case.’
‘So how is it similar?’
‘Same situation, after school, and the little girl was the same age and appearance.’
‘It’s a bit tenuous. It’s probably worth taking a look, but I’m not sure-’
‘And it was the same date,’ added Norman. ‘October 20th.’
‘Now you’re talking,’ said Goodnews, with a smile. ‘That’s really good work, Norm. Have you asked for the file?’
‘We sent the request last night,’ said Slater. ‘We’ll follow it up as soon as they’re open for business.’
‘If you need a word from me to speed things along, just let me know.’ Goodnews turned to Norman. ‘You know what I’m going to suggest now, don’t you?’
‘Search the national database?’
She turned to Slater, with a grin.
‘Didn’t I tell you having a civilian on board would work out for everyone?’
Slater didn’t like to remind her that Norman had insisted it was only a trial, and he wouldn’t stay if he felt constrained by the role.
‘This is good,’ said Goodnews. ‘You’re making progress. Is there anything else?’
‘Melanie Crump has turned up,’ said Slater.
‘Is she going to be any help? If she was away, is she likely to know anything?’
‘I haven’t spoken to her yet, but Darling was here when she turned up last night. I’ll let her give you the gist of what she said. Darling?’
He slid the folder with the notes she had made at home last night across to her. She looked taken aback, but quickly opened up the folder and scanned through the notes. Slater knew she was buying herself a few extra moments to compose herself.
‘So,’ she began. ‘Melanie Crump turned up here last night, demanding to know why her house had been searched and where her husband was. She was extremely belligerent, but when I explained about her husband being on CCTV at the school gates she eventually backed down and became a bit more composed. She told me she had been away for a few days visiting her father and hadn’t known about Chrissy Morrison. In the end, I think she could see why we had done what we did.’
‘So, what do you think?’ asked Goodnews.
‘I think there’s something very strange about Michael and Melanie Crump. For a start, she didn’t seem a bit surprised when I said he’d been brought in for questioning. Then she seemed almost disappointed to find we’d let him go. And there’s something else – he doesn’t appear to have a penny to his name, and yet she turned up here wearing expensive designer clothes.’
‘Sounds like two people leading separate lives,’ said Norman. ‘There could be a hundred reasons for that.’
‘She also claimed to be concerned about him being missing, and about what he might do,’ added Darling, ‘but her actions didn’t say that. She looked as if she didn’t give a toss, and she’d be quite happy if he never came back.’
‘You say he’s missing?’ asked Goodnews.
‘He wasn’t home when she got back, but he’s an adult, isn’t he? Maybe he was down the pub.’
‘What did she mean “what he might do”?’ asked Slater.
‘Apparently he’s prone to depression. She says he tried to crash his car once, although that was years ago. She sort of implied he might go off the rails because we had accused him of kidnapping Chrissy, but I got the impression she would be very happy if he did. She said he’d gone missing before, and how she always hoped he wouldn’t come back, but he was like a bad penny and just keeps on turning up.’
‘Sounds like there’s something going on in the past there,’ said Goodnews.
‘Yeah,’ agreed Slater. ‘It’s hardly normal is it? I think maybe me and Darling need to have a chat with our Mrs Crump, and perhaps Norm could take look at their backgrounds?’
‘Yeah, no problem,’ said Norman. ‘I can do that after I’ve done the database search.’
Goodnews got to her feet.
‘You’ve got plenty to get your teeth into there,’ she said, gathering her things together, and heading for the doors. ‘So I’m going to get out of your hair and let you get on. Remember I’m not here to interfere, but I’m always willing to help if I can.’
‘That was a very good little presentation you did at the morning meeting,’ said Slater. ‘Especially considering you weren’t expecting it.’
He smiled at Darling. She was driving, but she managed to turn her head long enough to acknowledge and return the smile.
‘Was it that obvious?’
‘I thought you handled it very well. Taking those notes from the folder gave you just enough time to gather your thoughts.’
She laughed.
‘So you sussed out what I was doing.’
‘Only because you didn’t refer to them once when you were talking.’
‘I hope I didn’t miss anything out.’
‘I don’t think so,’ he said. ‘You seemed to cover everything I had read. It was a job well done. I think the boss was impressed, too.’
‘Why does she make such a big deal about us keeping her informed and how she’s not trying to steal anyone’s thunder?’ asked Darling.
‘Because it’s a complete change from what we’re all used to around here. The old boss left us all to our own devices, took all the glory if we solved a case, and then bollocked us when he didn’t like what we were doing. Goodnews wants to be kept informed so she doesn’t get any nasty surprises, and she can steer an inquiry if she thinks it’s going off track. In return for that she’ll back us up if anything does go wrong. It seems fair enough to me.’
‘So she’s a bit more hands-on,’ said Darling.
‘She’s a lot more hands-on,’ said Slater, ‘but I think that’s a good thing.’
‘I thought you didn’t like change.’
‘Who told you that?’
‘It’s just what I heard,’ she said, vaguely. ‘Anyway, you seem to have taken to the change in DCI. You really like her don’t you?’
‘She’s alright.’
He saw Darling smile as she turned the car into Laurel Close.
It was one of those dull, grey October mornings, and somehow, as they pulled up, the weather seemed to have made the Crump’s depressing house seem even more so.
‘This probably sounds a bit strange,’ said Darling, ‘but I think this house fits him, if you see what I mean. It’s as shabby and depressing as he is, you know? But I just can’t see how it fits her. You wait, you’ll see what I mean when you meet her.’
As soon as Melanie Crump opened the front door, Slater understood what Darling meant. Whereas Michael Crump dressed in shabby, lacklustre clothes that were well past their best, Melanie wore only the best designer labels. The difference was so great, it was difficult not to stare.
Slater couldn’t picture Melanie Crump placing her designer-clad bottom on the shabby settee he had been sat on just the day before, and he was right. Instead of leading them to the tatty, dust-covered lounge on the right, she led them through a door on the left. This room was opulent by comparison, with expensive wallpaper, thick-piled carpets, and soft leather furniture. It was as if they’d gone through a door into a completely different house.
‘I can imagine what you’re thinking,’ said Melanie, taking in their faces. ‘I won’t lie to you, there’s no point. Michael and I live completely separate lives. He has his rooms, and I have mine.’
‘Can I ask why?’ asked Slater.
‘Yes, you can ask,’ she said, making it quite clear she wasn’t going to provide him with an answer. ‘When you said you wanted to talk to me you didn’t say anything about prying into my private life.’
‘In a case like this,’ said Slater, ‘we have to ask awkward questions that people woul
d rather not answer. When a married couple are living the way you and Mr Crump are, it suggests there are major problems between you. Those problems might be relevant to our case.’
She looked distinctly uncomfortable at what Slater was suggesting.
‘Let’s just say he has some preferences, and some habits, that I have no intention of sharing, or allowing, in my house.’
‘Would these habits be sexual in nature?’
This time she looked horrified, but there was something about her that made Slater feel pretty certain she was no prude, and her reaction seemed more staged than genuine.
‘Let me be a bit more specific,’ he said. ‘Is your husband interested in children?’
Her mouth flapped open once or twice before she spoke.
‘My husband has never been in trouble with the police.’
‘That wasn’t my question. We found a photograph of a little girl when we searched this house, but it was the only one. We think that’s a little strange. People who don’t have children of their own tend to have loads of photos of kids they see often, like nieces and nephews, or they have no photos of kids at all.’
She was wringing her hands in her lap now.
‘We found the same photo in Michael’s wallet,’ said Slater. ‘Who is this little girl, Melanie?’
‘I don’t know who she is. I took the photo off him ages ago. I didn’t realise he had a second copy.’
‘Why does he carry it?’
‘He says he found it,’ she said, bitterly. ‘He says he carries it as a reminder of the daughter we never had.’
There was an uncomfortable silence, but it seemed she wasn’t going to elaborate.
‘What happened?’ he asked.
‘I lost the baby,’ she said, defiantly, ‘and I never got pregnant again. It was no big deal, I got over it, but he makes out like it was the end of the world. Pathetic, that’s what he is. We never even knew if it was a girl, so how can he be so sure?’
‘He carries the first scan in his wallet as well,’ he said.
‘That’s not our scan,’ she said, scornfully. ‘I don’t know where he got that from. I never even got as far as telling my doctor, so having a scan was never arranged. Besides, I was too busy at work to worry about scans. I knew I was pregnant, I didn’t need a machine to tell me what I already knew.’