Twisted

by Lynda La Plante

  ‘Okay, I need to clarify from you, Mr Fulford, exactly when and where your last interaction with your daughter was?’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Where and when did you last see her, how did she behave and what did she talk about?’

  ‘It was the weekend before the one just gone; I picked her up on the Saturday morning from school, around eleven thirty. On the way home we stopped for a hamburger at one of the drive-in McDonald’s and ate it in the car on the way back to my flat. Amy went to her room and stayed in there on her own until about five p.m. when she got changed and we went to a movie at the local cinema in Fulham. We usually try to go to the one in Mayfair but there was nothing on there that she wanted to see . . .’ He paused, frowning and thinking to himself.

  Lena listened, still nibbling at the sandwich. She loathed McDonald’s and would not be seen dead in one of its restaurants, never mind ordering a takeaway and eating it in the car.

  ‘I’ve remembered the film – it was one with vampires, and she had a thing about the actor in it. Anyway, afterwards we went over to Chelsea in my car. The shops were all open and we walked up and down until about nine. Amy went into Zara as she was looking for a dress that one of her friends had bought but they didn’t have her size, so then we went to an Italian restaurant in Beauchamp Place – San Lorenzo. We had dinner and went home. She went straight to bed, and then we got up early in the morning and had a walk in Hyde Park; after that we sort of lounged around – I had some calls to make and she watched TV. She made us a brunch – eggs and bacon – and then I had to pop out to see someone. I got back around six and drove her to school as she has to be there by seven.’

  Reid made no interruptions; he jotted down a few notes, and appeared to listen intently until Marcus finished talking. ‘So, did she seem in any way different? Worried, even? Did she mention anything to you that would give you an indication she was upset about something?’

  ‘No. Only upset they didn’t have her size in the dress she wanted, but she was her usual lovely, easy-going self. I think she said she wanted to work on an essay, which she might have done while I went out on the Sunday afternoon, but she never mentioned that anything was upsetting her, and when we walked together we chatted about how she was doing at school, usual things, but she never brought up anything that would indicate to me she had any worries.’

  ‘What about discussing your present situation – the separation, the divorce proceedings?’

  Marcus shrugged. ‘No, it’s always been a sort of unspoken thing between us: I don’t talk about Lena, and the separation is not a recent thing – we’ve been apart for two years. I don’t think when she is with her mother that she discusses me; whether or not she tells her what we did, I don’t know.’

  ‘We don’t talk about Marcus when she is with me,’ Lena interjected and went on to say it was not a rule but it was just their way of dealing with the separation.

  ‘Do you see each other when your daughter is at school?’

  ‘No, we don’t,’ Lena said, glancing at Marcus before she continued. ‘We did meet this Monday with our lawyers and as I said before we have an amicable separation for Amy’s wellbeing.’

  ‘So neither of you can think of any reason why your daughter would take off without making contact?’

  Lena put her unfinished sandwich back onto the tray. ‘I have said this over and over again: this is totally out of character, she is an exceptionally well behaved and thoughtful girl, and she has never ever taken off without telling us where she’s going and leaving us names and addresses. Obviously, we also keep phone contact.’

  ‘On these occasions when you say she’s “taken off”, where did she go?’ Reid asked without looking at either of them.

  ‘Well, she’s had sleepovers with school friends, weekend activities with the school, parties that she would be late home from – I meant nothing that would sound alarm bells.’

  Reid tapped his pen on his notebook, then said he’d like to see Amy’s bedroom and suggested that Marcus or Lena open their daughter’s locked drawer to see if there was, as suspected, a diary kept inside. He also said that he would like to talk to Agnes, and also Lena’s driver.

  Following them up the stairs, he was even more impressed with the immaculate decor and style of the house. Entering their daughter’s bedroom was a surprise as it was so devoid of any girlish designs; everything was in its place, neat and tidy. Too tidy, he thought to himself.

  Marcus bent down to use the screwdriver on the locked drawer but Lena stopped him. ‘Wait, let’s try and find the key first. That is a really good piece of furniture, it’s an antique . . .’

  Marcus looked up at her in disbelief. ‘Lena, we’ve got to open it, there may be something in there that can help us!’

  ‘Of course, you’re right. I’d just hate for Amy to be upset with us when she comes home. It’s her privacy.’

  ‘This is an unusual circumstance, Mrs Fulford,’ Reid interjected. ‘She’ll understand, but if it makes you feel any better you can tell her that the police instructed you to open it.’ Lena gave him a grateful look and nodded for Marcus to proceed.

  Reid stepped towards the wardrobe. ‘Any clothes missing?’ he asked Lena.

  ‘I don’t know every bit of clothing she owned as she liked to buy things herself. Obviously she would have taken some to Serena’s in the cabin bag. She would wear her own clothes to go back to school, and then bring them to be washed and ironed by Agnes the weekends she stayed with me. She also has a sort of double-up wardrobe of clothes she keeps at her father’s.’

  ‘Would you know if anything is missing, Mr Fulford?’

  ‘She keeps a load of stuff at my place, but I honestly wouldn’t know if any were missing.’

  Marcus twisted and jerked the lock with the screwdriver but it wouldn’t budge. As Lena bent down and asked him to let her try and he refused, Reid could detect tension between them.

  ‘You want me to have a go? I maybe have more experience,’ he offered, smiling, but neither of them looked at him, and then there was a click and the lock sprang back. Lena almost pushed her husband aside as she opened the drawer. Inside were three old diaries from years back and Amy’s passport, but nothing else.

  ‘Where’s her journal?’ Marcus said as Lena took out the three small books. ‘The journal I bought her had “Amy” embossed in gold on the front. Those diaries are years old.’

  Lena turned to Reid. ‘Do you still want to have a look?’ she asked. Reid took the diaries from her out of politeness and glanced at them; one had a flap and another a small stud lock, and one was tied with a red ribbon. He opened them, but there was nothing loose between the pages, and as he flicked through he told Lena he would take them with him and examine them thoroughly later.

  ‘If you find this journal you’ve described, please let me know. It’s good that we found Amy’s passport as that suggests she hasn’t gone abroad. Now, I’d like to have that talk with your housekeeper and driver.’

  ‘Why do you need to talk to them?’ Marcus asked.

  ‘Just in case they were privy to anything or aware of something – it’s a formality. I will need to talk to all employees, staff, friends and neighbours.’

  ‘Don’t you think there has been enough talking?’ Lena asked. ‘Isn’t it obvious that neither Marcus nor I have any idea where Amy is? Shouldn’t you be doing a search or whatever is necessary?’

  Reid gave a light touch to her arm. ‘As I said at the station, Mrs Fulford, we will do everything possible to trace your daughter but I need to be aware of anyone close to you, or friendly with you, who may be able to give us further information.’

  Reid walked out of the bedroom and headed down the stairs, leaving Marcus and Lena standing beside the empty and broken dressing-table drawer.

  Chapter 5

  A very uneasy feeling was beginning to form in the pit of Reid’s stomach. There was some agenda here he couldn’t quite grasp. The Fulfords’ daughter appeared
to be a picture-perfect fifteen-year-old, but he knew that was very doubtful in reality. Her room was too tidy, devoid of any personal items, and he would need to see how it compared with her bedroom at her father’s. He also wanted to have a private interview with Marcus without the presence of his wife; he was all too aware that, while he liked what he knew of Lena, he found the husband rather shallow.

  Reid went into the kitchen as Agnes was placing the crockery into the dishwasher. He closed the door, went to the kitchen table and drew out a chair. The plate of uneaten sandwiches was sitting there, wrapped in clingfilm, making him realize he was starving.

  ‘Mind if I have one of those?’

  Agnes had a plate and a fresh mug of coffee in front of him within seconds, telling him to help himself, which he did with relish. Between mouthfuls, he asked if she would sit down, as he needed to have a talk to her. Taking out his notebook, he set it on the table.

  Agnes wore two green slides pinning back her thick hair to keep it off her face. She was very articulate, with a slightly haughty voice, and she just didn’t seem the type of woman Reid would have expected Lena to employ as a housekeeper. Though he had to admit he hadn’t met many housekeepers before.

  She explained that she worked Monday to Friday from nine to five each day. On the rare occasion she was needed over the weekend, she would stay in a small bedroom on the third floor of the house. She was then able to serve dinner or help if Mrs Fulford entertained. She said she always did the grocery shopping and served lunch to business associates on quite a regular basis, as Mrs Fulford had numerous small companies. She added that the Kiddy Winks business had taken off and for the past six months or more, Mrs Fulford had not entertained anyone on a social footing. It had all been professional, customers coming to the house to discuss the growing orders for the new venture. Reid was on his third sandwich but giving Agnes his full attention and encouragement, nodding and smiling. He wiped his mouth with the napkin.

  ‘But if Mrs Fulford did entertain in the evenings, you wouldn’t know as you said you leave at five.’

  ‘Yes, but I would know because, as I said, I do the grocery shopping – that includes the wine and champagne. Also, when she does have anyone visiting, there are always things left to be cleaned: cutlery, glasses in the dishwasher, that sort of thing. I usually leave her a covered plate of salad and cold cuts, but sometimes she has been so busy upstairs in her office she doesn’t bother to eat. Of course, when she does go out, Harry her driver is on call, but he always gives me his itinerary, in case I needed to contact Mrs Fulford.’

  ‘You run a tight ship,’ Reid said, smiling.

  ‘I have to, as Mrs Fulford is very particular, and I value my job.’

  ‘How long have you worked for Mrs Fulford?’

  ‘Almost two and half years; before that I worked for a furnishing company outlet. I was made redundant, so I was very pleased when I got the job. I’d been unemployed for quite a while – when you get to my age it’s not easy finding work and I had some health issues. I had a very difficult time because I was divorced and my daughter was going through emotional problems. In many ways I totally understood Mrs Fulford’s situation, having been through an unpleasant time myself – my husband is Spanish and an alcoholic, and our daughter had a lot to put up with.’

  ‘How old is your daughter?’

  ‘Natalie is thirty-four. We see each other every weekend unless, as I said, I am needed here.’

  Reid tried to calculate the time between when Agnes had been made redundant, got divorced and started work for Mrs Fulford. He felt that she had glossed over just how long she had been unemployed but had no wish to get into her health issues. He suspected Mrs Moors was over-qualified for her job and, judging by the way she was eager to explain herself, was a woman you didn’t want to get on the wrong side of.

  ‘Tell me about Amy.’

  ‘She is very self-opinionated – clever, I believe – and very attractive. Even when she is on school holidays, I hardly see her, as she’s always going away and they rent a cottage in Devon. I’m often here by myself.’

  ‘Her bedroom is very tidy for a teenager.’

  ‘Yes, like her mother’s – they are very similar. When she has a friend stay, which is quite rare, they spend most of the time in the TV room watching DVDs, but as I have said, I leave at five on a Friday and have little to do with her.’

  ‘How do you think she’s coping with her parents’ separation?’

  ‘Well, I suppose it must have affected her, but we never had a conversation about it. My own daughter took my divorce badly, but then he was a very violent man and we both suffered. Mr Fulford is very easy-going and Amy spends every other weekend with him, but when I first started work here, he was still living with Mrs Fulford and there was some friction. He seemed to spend most days in the gym above the garage.’

  ‘What kind of friction?’

  ‘I hope I am not speaking out of turn by saying this, but I think Mrs Fulford was relieved when he moved out.’ Agnes suddenly gave a small laugh and wafted her hands about.

  ‘Did you ever hear Amy mention boyfriends, or do you know if she is seeing anyone?’

  ‘No, and to be honest, even if she did have a boyfriend, I doubt very much if she would mention it to me.’ Agnes shrugged. ‘You know, I don’t want you to think that I am in any way not concerned about the fact she is missing – it must be very worrying – but I feel sure she has simply gone on some adventure, because in my opinion she is almost too quiet, too well behaved, as if she doesn’t want to be even noticed.’

  ‘You do her laundry?’

  ‘Yes, she comes home in her uniform, changes and dresses in her ordinary clothes. I wash and press her uniform for her to take back the next weekend. They double up all of their clothes for school, and whatever she has worn of her own, I also wash and press the following week.’

  ‘Any unusual stains?’

  Agnes sat back and frowned, and he saw the round eyes become like flints.

  ‘Underwear stains,’ he said quietly.

  ‘She has begun her menstruation, but is very modest about herself, careful. I know only one occasion she had period stains, and she told me to get rid of the panties, refusing to wear them even if I washed them clean.’ She hesitated, and bit her bottom lip. ‘I have a daughter and I am fully aware of what teenagers can get up to – I know because I have monitored Natalie, who did go through a wild period, so if you are referring to semen stains, there have never been any indications of such.’

  Reid stood up to signal the interview was over, and Agnes immediately sprang up and reached for his plate and napkin. He thanked her and asked if she would be kind enough to see if Harry Dunn was available, at which point she left him alone in the kitchen and hurried out into the hall.

  This gave him time to put in a call to the station, keeping his voice very low as he spoke to DC Burrows.

  ‘Any news on Amy Fulford’s iPhone?’

  ‘Cell site analysis shows it was last used to send a text on Saturday to Serena’s mobile and the location was from a cell mast near Marble Arch, but it hasn’t been used since.’

  ‘If Amy was running away then the text to Serena could have been deliberate to give her more time without creating suspicion,’ Reid suggested.

  ‘There’s also the possibility she purchased an unregistered pay-as-you-go mobile that no one knew about.’

  ‘Good point, Barbara. I’d like you to put together a list of every call Amy made a week prior to and up to her disappearance, see if we can dig up any unknowns.’

  ‘I have already put in a request for the last two months of historical calls and texts but, due to murder squad cases taking precedence, my request was low down in the pecking order and the results will be a few days yet.’

  Reid sighed in frustration. ‘Bloody typical. Just keep pressuring the line provider then. Any luck on tracing her iPad?’

  ‘There is a “lost or stolen” application on it, but at present it’s
dead, so either the battery is flat or it’s switched off. If it goes online they will inform us immediately.’

  ‘Thanks, and keep up the good work. Got to go now as I’m about to speak to Mrs Fulford’s driver.’

  Harry Dunn wiped his feet on the doormat thoroughly before Agnes ushered him into the kitchen. She closed the door and Harry stood nervously waiting for Reid to indicate he sit himself down at the table. The kitchen was very high-tech with the latest model of Aga, glass-cased wall-to-wall cupboards full of china, and sheets of black marble worktops. The table was made of steel and glass, with matching chairs, and Harry carefully inched a chair back to avoid scratching the polished York stone flagged tiles. He was around five feet nine, a small neat little man in a grey suit, white shirt and an unbuttoned navy overall. He excused himself for not removing it but said he was polishing Mrs Fulford’s car.

  As he sat opposite Reid, he seemed nervous; his elfin face framed by floppy brown hair was at odds with his worn hands. Reid also noticed he was wearing rather dapper shoes – brown brogues that were old-fashioned and highly polished.

  ‘I suppose you have my background details?’ the man asked quietly. Reid looked up, slightly puzzled, as he had not even begun to question him. As he did not reply, Harry explained that he had been on the straight and narrow for more than five years and valued his present job.