“Have women’s clothes really changed all that much?” said Tim.
“That’s the point, they haven’t. If a woman of my age still had clothes from back then, she could get away with wearing them – assuming she could get into them – they’d just look slightly odd, at least to another woman. That was why I couldn’t put my finger on it.”
Juliet saw immediately that Tim was sceptical. Marianne Burrell’s comments made sense to her and she’d have liked to explore them further, but she knew that at the moment it was important to get the rest of the nurse’s account, before Tim’s doubts put her off.
“Would you mind taking us through the whole incident step by step? You say you were standing near the door when the man and woman brought in the sick girl. What kind of vehicle did they come in?”
“It was a 4 by 4. A Land Rover, I think.”
“Did you get the number?”
“No. It didn’t occur to me. But in any case I recognised the driver. It was Matthew Start.”
“You’re quite sure of that?”
“Yes. I live round here, and so does he. Besides, I called him by his name. He didn’t try to pretend it wasn’t him. But he was quick to explain how he’d come to be helping the two women.”
“What did he say? Can you remember his exact words?”
“He said he’d known the mother years ago. That she’d been travelling in this area and asked him to help her when the girl fell ill.”
“He was implying they’d lost touch in the interim?” Tim asked.
“I suppose so. I was more interested in helping the girl than trying to pick up anything he might have been hinting. I did think it was odd that he was so keen to tell me why he was involved.”
“Can you describe the mother?”
“She had fair hair. It was very fair. And her skin was pale – abnormally pale, even for a blonde. The girl was very pale, too. And thin, dreadfully thin. They both looked malnourished. I did think . . .” Marianne Burrell paused.
“Go on,” said Tim. “What did you think?”
“I did think it seemed unlikely that those two women could have been taking a holiday in this area in the middle of winter. Dr Sharma thought the girl had been ill for several days at least. And the clothes they were wearing were too summery. Neither of them had a coat.”
“So their clothes were inadequate as well as old-fashioned?” Tim smiled. Marianne Burrell looked at him suspiciously. “Did you notice anything else about them?”
“When I got closer to the mother, I thought I noticed a kind of musty smell about her. But I could have been imagining it,” she concluded rather crossly.
“Where is Dr Sharma? Would it be possible to talk to him?”
“Not today. He often works at weekends, but he’s away at a conference. I’m sure he’d be happy to talk to you one day next week.”
“We’ll have to talk to him, but if you were with the women the whole time it will only be to ask him about his initial diagnosis. I’m sure your own observations will be accurate.”
She managed a small smile.
“Did you admit the young woman?”
“Yes. I could see straight away that she was extremely ill. She wasn’t conscious and she was running a high temperature. I told the mother how ill she was. It didn’t seem to surprise her.”
“What did she say?”
“Now that you mention it, she didn’t say very much at all. Matthew did all the talking.”
“I see.” Tim looked at Juliet. She’d been taking notes. She underscored the last sentence she’d written.
“When you realised the girl needed urgent treatment, what did you do?”
“I took them into an emergency recovery room and asked one of the nurses to stay with them while I went to fetch Dr Sharma.”
“Is the nurse here?”
“No. She doesn’t work weekends. She told me they didn’t speak to each other at all while I was gone, which couldn’t have been more than a couple of minutes.”
“Can you give us the nurse’s name?”
“Julie. Julie Pack.”
“And when you returned with Dr Sharma, what happened?”
“We gave her the usual recovery drugs and he put her on a saline drip and began to give her a blood transfusion – we sent Boston an exact description of what we did, but I can get a copy of it for you if you like – and he called Boston to ask them to admit her as an emergency. We had a spare ambulance here and it took her as soon as he’d inserted the drips.”
“But the mother didn’t go with her?”
“No. Matthew Start said she couldn’t. He said she had to go back to her other children. He said he would take her to them and himself go on to the hospital as soon as he could.”
“But she didn’t speak for herself?”
“No. I thought she was angry with him, but she could just have been upset. She spoke when I asked her to sign the consent form. She said she didn’t know the name of the boarding house where she was staying. Matthew said he would find it out and call us with the exact address later. He said it was called Twelvetrees. That’s also when he said she was Dutch.”
“Did he call you?”
“No. He gave me his mobile number – he said her mobile might not work. I’ve tried calling the number he gave, but it always goes to message.”
“May I see the number?”
“I wrote it on the consent form.” Marianne Burrell handed the form to Tim. A row of figures were scrawled at the top of it in a childish hand. It was the same number Veronica Start had provided.
“Did the woman hesitate when she wrote the name on the form?”
“No. She wrote it quickly and handed it to me.”
“Did you think the name was strange?”
“I didn’t think that Lucy Helen was a particularly strange name, though it didn’t sound very Dutch. Of course I thought the girl’s name – Ariadne – was unusual, but I didn’t look at the form properly until they’d gone. I was trying to console her. She suddenly became very agitated and begged Dr Sharma to make sure the girl survived. She almost passed out. Matthew Start caught her. She seemed to lash out at him at first, but that could have been because she was upset.”
“Did you watch them as they left?”
“Yes. When they got back in the 4 by 4, she seemed to try to hit him again. She was crying.”
“And you were concerned enough about the way in which they both behaved to report it to the police?”
“It was Dr Sharma who said we should call you. It was because of her medical condition. He was convinced that she’d been criminally neglected over many months, if not years.
Chapter Forty-Nine
“WHERE CAN MATTHEW Start be?” said Tim as he and Juliet drove away from the hospital.
“You told Veronica we’d be calling again this morning.”
“I know. If she’s seen Start since then, she’ll have told him.”
“Well, that’s what we asked her to do.”
“Agreed. We’ll go straight there.”
“Do you think we need back-up?”
“There isn’t time. Why do you ask? Do you think Start’s mad enough to attack us?”
“I don’t know, but everything we’ve found out about him says he’s unstable.”
“I think we should chance it,” said Tim. “My hunch is he won’t be at home. We know he’s trying to avoid us. If we can’t speak to him now, we’ve got enough on him to tell the media that we’re looking for him.”
“If he’s holding those girls, that could spook him into harming them, if he panics.”
“You’re right, but I don’t see what the alternative is. If we take too long to find him, he may harm them anyway. We don’t know what happened to Helena Nurmi. We can’t be sure that the woman who called herself Helen is the same
person. And we need to find her, as well. Can you look for a guest house called Twelvetrees?”
Juliet took out her mobile. They were both silent while she carried out some searches.
“If there’s such a place in this area, it isn’t listed.”
“There’s a surprise!”
They’d reached the beginning of Blue Gowt Lane. Tim slowed the car.
“If Veronica opens the door, I’d like you to talk to her. You’ll make more headway with her than I will,” he said. He parked the car on the ramshackle bridge where he’d turned it round the previous night. “We’ll walk from here. If Start’s watching from the house, we stand more chance of taking him by surprise if we’re on foot.”
“Don’t forget the dogs,” said Juliet nervously. “They’ll hear us as soon as we open the gate. They may not be tied up this morning.”
They trudged along the narrow lane. It was still dark; there were no street lamps and a bitter wind was sweeping across from the fields.
When they reached the Starts’ house, Tim opened the same small gate and motioned to Juliet to precede him. She entered the garden hesitantly, listening out for the dogs, but could hear nothing. A few yards further on, they encountered a vehicle: a black 4 by 4.
“This looks promising,” Tim whispered. “Perhaps I’m wrong and he’s here after all.”
Juliet rang the doorbell. Veronica Start opened the door almost immediately.
“Hello, I thought it would probably be you,” she said briskly. She didn’t invite them in.
“Mrs Start, we’ve come to speak to your husband. Is he here?” said Juliet.
“No, unfortunately not. I did tell him you wanted him. He’s been back. He says he’s got a busy day ahead of him. And his father wants the dogs. To guard a building site, probably. That’s what they’re trained to do.”
“That’s his car standing on the forecourt, isn’t it?”
“Yes. He’s driving one of the works vans now. He usually does when he has the dogs with him. He doesn’t like them messing up his own vehicles.”
“So he knows we’re looking for him. Did he say when it might be convenient to see him?” Tim couldn’t resist taking over from Juliet. If Veronica Start noticed the question was laced with sarcasm, she didn’t show it.
“He’s bound to be back tomorrow. He always spends Sunday afternoons working in his office, preparing for the week ahead.”
“You said yesterday that his office is round there, behind the dog compound?”
“Yes, it’s always been his office. Since before we were married.”
“I see. Did he own this house before he met you, then?”
“His father owned it originally and gave it to Matthew after his mother left. Matthew grew up here: he’s never lived anywhere else, except when he was a student. Matthew’s obsessive about this place. He’ll never leave it. He doesn’t even like going on holiday. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m running a bit late. There’s a netball match at school today and I’m supposed to be helping.”
Tim took a step back.
“Certainly,” he said. “We’ll probably see you there. We’ll be continuing our search for Cassandra Knipes; attending the netball event is one of our lines of enquiry.”
“Really? Well, you know best, I suppose.”
Juliet was still standing on the doorstep.
“How’s your face today, Veronica?” she said. She moved a little closer. “It’s still looking rather nasty. I do think you should see a doctor.”
The violence of Veronica Start’s reaction was unexpected. Her face crumpled.
“Why don’t you leave me alone? Don’t you understand that your snooping only makes things worse. It should be obvious to you by now that I have no control whatsoever over Matthew or his comings and goings.”
She slammed the door shut.
“Should I ring the bell again?” said Juliet.
“No. Leave her to it. Whatever hell it is she’s living in, I think we’ll be able to help release her from it very shortly.”
Chapter Fifty
HE’S LOCKED ME in our bedroom. They’re in Ariadne’s room. I asked him to bring all of them. That was part of the bargain and I think he’s kept his promise.
I am impatient to see them, but I know I mustn’t annoy him by showing it. He hasn’t switched off the light. I look in the mirror. I am still wearing the suit. I think I look passable. I don’t want them to be scared by me. I couldn’t bear it if they think me ugly or repulsive.
He’s been alone with them for a very long time. Once I think I hear a raised voice. Then there is silence. I dread that he’ll hurt them. If he injures them it will be my fault. I sit on my bed and wait. I pick at my nails. I can’t bear the suspense.
Seeing them was everything to me. I didn’t think about what he would do afterwards. What will happen to them now? What will happen to us? Ariadne will always be damaged. But my other girls are bright and strong and full of hope. Have I stolen their freedom? Surely he wouldn’t try to keep them here.
The door is being unlocked. Usually I dread the sound. Today I am jubilant.
He enters my room. Our room.
“You can see them soon,” he says. “But first listen to me.” He grabs hold of my ear and pulls it. I know better than to cry out. “I don’t want you to mention Ariadne. And I don’t want you to ask them about anything to do with them. Where they live, who they live with, where they go to school. Anything. Do you understand?”
I nod. “But they know I am their mother?”
“Not yet, they don’t. You can tell them that if you want you. It’ll be interesting to see what kind of reaction you get.” He sniggers. “You’re a little bit shop-soiled these days.”
Then they are there, standing in front of me. But just two of them.
“Only the twins? But I thought . . .”
“We aren’t twins,” says the shorter one. “We don’t know each other.” She is calm and self-possessed, but angry, I’d say. The other one has been crying.
“What is your name?”
“Philippa.”
“But where’s Diana? Are you Diana?”
“My name’s Cassandra. Will you please tell me why I’ve been brought here? My parents will be looking for me.” She turns to The Lover. “If you let me go, I won’t tell anyone. I’ll . . .” she starts to
cry.
“Shut up!” he says savagely.
“Will you tell me why you’ve brought us to this fucking awful shit-hole,” Philippa says to him. “You told me you would take me to my real mother.”
“She’s your mother!” he jeers, pointing at me. I stand up, move forward to embrace her.
“You’re so beautiful . . .” I say, stretching out my arms.
“Keep away from me!” she shouts, brushing my arm away with hers.
Chapter Fifty-One
TIM LOOKED AT his watch. It was still only 8 a.m. – too early to head to the school.
“We could get some breakfast somewhere,” he said. “I’m frozen.”
“Good idea, but I’m not sure where at the moment. The supermarket café won’t be open yet. We could try Greggs, but there’s nowhere to sit there.”
“Let’s give Katrin a call.”
“I’m sure she won’t want . . .”
“Hello, it’s me. I’ve got Juliet with me. Yes, most of the night. We’ve just made a couple of calls. No, nothing immediate. Some leads, maybe. We were wondering about some breakfast? Nothing special, toast will do. And some hot tea. Great. We’ll be there in a few minutes.”
Juliet had turned pink.
“Tim, that’s disgraceful! She had to agree; she wouldn’t have been rude enough to say no.”
“Sure, but I know she’ll be pleased to see you and you haven’t made friends with Sophia yet. And it’ll probably
be my only opportunity to see either of them today. Besides, you know what Katrin’s like. Her ability to spot solutions that are staring us in the face is uncanny – almost as good as yours. If you put your heads together, we might get somewhere!”
“Well, we’ll have about an hour to do it before you and I have to leave again. I doubt if there’ll even be time to tell her everything.”
Katrin was wearing her dressing-gown and looked tired and dishevelled. She opened the door carrying Sophia in her arms.
“Sorry, we were up twice in the night and we haven’t got started yet,” she said, handing his daughter to Tim. “Hello, Juliet, it’s nice to see you. I’ve put the kettle on and I’ll make some toast. There’s bacon if you want it.”
“Cor! Yes, please,” said Tim, holding Sophia high above his head. She crowed with pleasure.
“That’s right,” said Katrin wryly. “Tell Daddy how wonderful he is! I wonder if he’d have got up for you when you were screaming at 3 a.m.”
“I will do next time,” said Tim, “because I’ll know that it’s better than trying to piece together a bunch of clues that don’t fit, which is what I was doing then.”
“I almost feel sorry for you! Would you like a bacon sandwich, Juliet?”
“I’ll come and help you. How much has Tim told you about this case?”
“It depends what you mean by ‘this case’. Tim says his case is really the accident at the crossing. Superintendent Thornton told him to concentrate on that, didn’t he? But now I gather that two girls have disappeared, one of them the daughter of the crossing-keeper, and that they’ve found a child’s body at what’s left of the ruined lodge house. Tim told me all this when he called last night,” she added. “I know it was partly because he didn’t want me to find out about the dead child from the news. I don’t think you’ve released any details about that yet, have you?”
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