by Helen Fields
‘We are. You need breakfast before we do this?’ Baarda asked.
‘No, if I don’t eat until lunchtime, I can persuade myself that I’m fasting. Do you think Elspeth’s husband has any idea that she had an affair?’
‘I doubt it. If I were in his shoes, it would have been one of the first details I’d have given the police. Nick would have been an obvious suspect initially, and then there’s the option that she’d run off with him rather than having been abducted. I’m hardly a good advert for husbands having their fingers on the pulse of a marriage. It never occurred to me that my wife would ever be unfaithful. Perhaps superficially everything seemed absolutely fine.’
Connie stared out of the window as Baarda negotiated a section of roadworks where the traffic lights were down.
‘You’re going to have to tell Elspeth’s husband,’ she said.
‘That had occurred to me,’ Baarda said. ‘But perhaps not yet.’
They crossed North Bridge and took a couple of turns before Baarda pulled into a hotel car park.
‘I saw Nick last night at the yoga studio,’ Connie said.
‘Your assessment?’
‘If I had to summarise, I’d say he came across as a manipulative dick.’
‘That’s colourful,’ Baarda said, pulling on a coat.
‘Not a word that really applies to me, I’m afraid.’ Connie got out of the car, pulling an elastic hairband from her pocket and tidying her hair against the wind’s endeavours.
‘Apologies,’ Baarda said.
‘I’m kidding. And you’re right, it was colourful language, but it’s as good a description as any psycho-blurb I could give you. Which makes me wonder why a woman as intelligent and high society as Elspeth decided to risk so much for so little.’
They walked in the direction of the castle, passing the restaurants, kilt shops and tourist traps lining the road. It was early enough not to be busy, but as they neared the castle, a crowd of visitors catching the first entry of the day greeted them. Baarda dispensed with the queues by showing his badge and asking to see whoever was in charge. They were escorted to an administration building and from there, Nick Bowlzer was radioed to attend.
‘What’s up?’ Nick said, dropping into one of the low, comfy coffee-room chairs, legs spread wide.
‘Mr Bowlzer,’ Baarda began. ‘We’re here to ask you a few questions about Elspeth Dunwoody. I understand you knew her.’
‘Is that right? Who told you that?’
‘This is a police investigation and as such, we often can’t reveal sources of information. We’re only speaking to you as a potential witness. You’re not obliged to speak with us, but it’s important that we get a full picture of Mrs Dunwoody’s life and her movements in the months before she was abducted. Is there anything you can help us with?’ Baarda asked.
‘Not really. I’m not entirely sure how it is you think I can help you.’ Bowlzer was cocky and self-assured, but not stupid.
‘All right,’ Baarda said. ‘Did you have an intimate relationship with Mrs Dunwoody?’
Bowlzer gave a broad grin and scratched his stubble. ‘Do I need a lawyer?’
‘I don’t know. Do you?’ Baarda asked, his tone tightening. ‘I’m sure I can arrange one if there’s something you need to confess.’
‘My private life’s none of your business.’ The grin was gone.
‘It is in so far as your private life intersected with that of a missing woman, so you can be helpful voluntarily, or you can be helpful in a police station under caution. Your choice,’ Baarda said.
‘Fine. What do you want to know?’ Nick rolled up his sleeves.
‘When were you last in contact with Mrs Dunwoody?’
‘We met for coffee about a week before she was taken.’
‘And how would you describe the state of your relationship at that point?’ Baarda asked.
‘The state of my relationship? Are you asking if we were shagging?’
‘I suppose I am.’
Baarda sounded irritated. Connie felt the same.
‘Not then. We had been. I met her through Darpana, then we saw each other again at a charity event here. She looked bored, and I was going out for a cigarette so she came with. After that we saw each other a few times.’
‘So it wasn’t just a one-off event, then?’ Baarda clarified.
‘There were some hotel rooms, couple of times at my place. Couldn’t go to hers for obvious reasons.’
‘Who paid for the hotels?’ Baarda asked.
‘She did. Cash. Didn’t want her husband finding out, I guess.’
‘Did she ever express any concern to you that she was in trouble or being followed?’ Baarda said.
‘The only thing she ever told me was that if her husband found out, he’d kill her. He’s one of those public-school rugby-player types who don’t appreciate anyone else touching their stuff, like she were his new car or his yacht. I’ve got to be honest, when I first heard she was missing, I was a bit worried it might have something to do with her old man. To be fair, I wouldn’t want my wife messing around behind my back.’
‘Are you married, then?’ Connie asked.
Nick swung round and lifted his chin a fraction higher. ‘Why, you interested?’
‘You don’t seem very upset or concerned about Mrs Dunwoody. Were you affected by her abduction?’ Connie said.
‘She’d already broken up with me by then. Did you expect me to be sitting around crying?’
‘Were you angry with her for that?’ Connie continued.
‘You trying to set me up for this, is that what’s happening?’
‘No, Mr Bowlzer, we’re not. Did you tell anyone else about the affair, anyone who could have used it to their advantage to catch Mrs Dunwoody off guard and insist that she meet them to talk, for example?’
‘No one knows.’ He crossed his arms.
‘Not one single other person is aware of it?’ Connie checked.
‘Well, someone must be, as you lot found me. Now who would that have been?’
‘We can’t reveal that information, I’m afraid, but obviously if the disclosure didn’t come from you, it’s possible that it came from Mrs Dunwoody herself,’ Baarda said.
‘Hmm,’ he said. ‘She wasn’t happy, I know that much. She had the money, the big house, the family, but she always felt like something was missing. Maybe she just ran off and doesn’t want to be found.’
‘All right, Mr Bowlzer. We might need to speak with you again. I’d like you to try to remember the dates and times when you were with Mrs Dunwoody and any phone records that might be relevant. I’ll be sending officers round to take a statement from you.’
‘Yeah, you know, could I come into the station to do that?’ Nick leaned forward, legs together now. ‘I mean, that would just be easier. I’m in a relationship.’
‘Lucky girl,’ Connie said.
‘Of course,’ Baarda said, handing over a card. ‘Call me to arrange it. I’ll expect to hear from you in the next day, though, otherwise your home address will have to do.’
Nick didn’t bother with goodbyes, letting the door slam shut as he walked out.
‘So it wasn’t just a one-off,’ Connie said. ‘Poor Darpana.’
‘Indeed. But other than that, it looks like another dead end. Even if Elspeth’s husband had found out about it, his alibi for the period when she was kidnapped was watertight, and his distress seems genuine. He works abroad regularly, so I suppose it wasn’t difficult to cover up the affair. They have a nanny for the children. Elspeth would have had a fair amount of freedom.’
‘Everything about Angela’s murder revolved around her being the perfect wife and mother. Superficially, Elspeth seems the same. Roughly the same age, two kids, happy marriage. If we’re formulating a profile of a man who either wants that woman for himself, or alternatively who wants to desecrate a woman with those attributes, then he can’t possibly know about Nick Bowlzer.’
Baarda stood up. ‘I need t
o decide how much of this I reveal to Elspeth’s husband.’
‘None,’ Connie said. ‘Not one word.’
‘Do you not think he has a right to know? It might be relevant.’
‘It might be, but I seriously doubt it. Nick Bowlzer is an idiot, and the female race deserves better than men like that, but he didn’t hurt Elspeth. He’s too lazy. If you tell Elspeth’s husband, there’s every chance he’ll tell his parents, or a friend, or his lawyer, the list is endless. And if it leaks, if the press gets hold of it, the only thing keeping Elspeth alive – this idealistic opinion her kidnapper has of her – is dead in the water. I suspect that’s how we’d find her, too.’
Chapter Eighteen
Blood dripped into the carpet, not that Meggy and Elspeth cared about the state of the furnishings. Their fingers, however, were raw. They’d taken a break and made an attempt to push the dangling light back into the ceiling cavity, wrapping the loose wires around a wooden spoon from the kitchen to take up the slack, and slotting that into the plasterboard hole. The result was messy and wouldn’t stand even the most cursory of inspections, but it was better than it had been.
Having cleared up the pile of plasterboard dust, and eaten some cheese and softening crackers, they went back to ripping up the carpet. No loose boards so far, and they had to shift the furniture again to give them more to play with. But now there was hope. A cracked board missing a sliver of wood along its side was wide enough for Elspeth to slip her fingers into and pull. Not in their current state, though. They were damaged enough already. One large splinter followed by an infection with no access to first aid or antibiotics and there would be more than just Fergus to worry about.
Using two clean tea towels from the kitchen, Meggy wrapped one each, tenderly, around Elspeth’s hands, tucking in the end above her wrists.
‘I don’t want you to get your hopes up,’ Elspeth said. ‘Whatever is down there, there’ll be beams. Maybe steel, insulation, and all sorts of hardware. Chances are this is just another dead end.’
‘We’re already at a dead end,’ Meggy said.
‘True. Now, stay back in case any splinters start flying. And don’t forget. It’s his flat below us. If we disturb him and he comes up here in a rage, you just go and get into bed. Pretend you’ve been asleep this whole time.’
‘How much do you think he can hear?’ Meggy asked, whispering suddenly. ‘When I ran up here there were two flights of stairs. We’re at the top of the house. Would the noise go all the way to the ground floor?’
‘It might. I guess we’ll find out pretty fast. He usually comes up to me in the evenings, so maybe he’s out during the day. You willing to take that chance?’
‘It’s better than doing nothing,’ Meggy said.
‘I agree, but let’s be as quiet as we can anyway. If we make a loud noise, we’ll stop to see if we can hear him coming up, okay?’
‘Okay,’ Meggy said.
‘Right, well, I’m ready.’
Elspeth knelt to the side of the damaged floorboard and carefully slid her fingers in deep enough that she could bend them, knuckles still showing above the cavity. Bracing herself, knees pushed hard into the floor, she tugged. The floorboard creaked and allowed itself to be bent fractionally in its centre, but did not give. Elspeth tried again. More creaking, some splinters coming away from the edges of the gap. But nothing more.
‘Here, let me help,’ Meggy said, kneeling behind Elspeth and wrapping her arms around the woman’s chest.
‘On three. One, two, three!’
Meggy pulled, wrenching Elspeth’s shoulders. The board gave a bonfire-style crackle, and Meggy flew backwards, tumbling over her own feet. Elspeth landed hard on her backside, holding a small piece of floorboard in her hand. She waved it at Meggy.
‘Got a piece! We did it. Come on. It’ll be easier to work on now.’
They threw themselves into it, pulling away a section of the board that was beginning to rot but still holding on to its strength. At last it was gone, a four foot by five inch black hole in its place. Grasping the next boards to either side, they tried to increase the hole, pulling, bashing, finding themselves fighting proper carpentry and more solid wood.
‘It can’t just have been one rotten board,’ Elspeth said. ‘There must be others. We have to lift more of the carpet.’
‘Wait,’ Meggy said. ‘I can get my leg down into the space and kick upwards. I should be able to shift the board at the end.’
She raced away, reappearing seconds later clutching pink-and-white striped trainers.
‘He bought me shoes. What a bloody idiot,’ Meggy declared.
Lying down across the top of the opening they’d already made, lengthways with her trainers fastened, she wiggled her right leg to get her foot and ankle beneath the floorboard at the far end.
‘There’s enough space for me to bend my knee. Come up by my head and hold on to me.’
Elspeth gave her some support to lean back against, and Meggy began to kick. No point after that in pretending they wouldn’t be overheard if Fergus was in the house. In the room below it must have sounded as if the ceiling was about to fall in. The board protested, fought, took its time, then flew into the air, flipped and landed the other side of the room. Meggy and Elspeth hugged one another then stared at the chaos before them.
‘Wasn’t much point fixing the light,’ Meggy said.
‘It’ll be okay. All we’d have to do is hide the floorboards, roll the carpet back over and hope he doesn’t tread in the gap. How near can we get the lamp?’
The answer was not very. The removed boards were mid-room, and the tiny lamp’s cord extended no more than two feet from the power points at the edge.
‘Have you seen an extension cable anywhere?’ Meggy asked.
‘No. He’d be too worried about us wrapping it around his neck. And now we’ve got floorboards as a weapon too, not that these are good for much more than a single hit. They must be decades old.’
‘He must be a coward if he’s scared of a woman and a girl beating him up. It’s been nearly twenty-four hours. Maybe he’s left us. Or perhaps he got caught by the police, but they don’t know where to look for us.’
‘Or it could just be part of whatever sick game he’s playing. I don’t know. Do you ever think you end up with what you deserve in life? That there really is such a thing as just deserts? I don’t know what scares me more – the thought that him taking me was completely random and that nothing I did contributed to his choosing me, or the idea that maybe this happened to me because of something I did wrong. That there’s some giant invisible scale in the sky for each of us and that when you screw up enough you tip it over, and that’s when bad things happen.’
Meggy stared at her. ‘I’m twelve,’ she said, shaking off the heavy conversation. ‘We need to find out what’s down there. Come on.’ She lay on her stomach, head flat on the floor turned to the side, then reached her hand in, grimacing. ‘I can feel some wires. There’s a big beam running crossways, and it has some metal bits on it.’ She shifted over to get more of her arm in the cavity. ‘It’s disgusting in here, loads of dust and spiderwebs. Hold on. I’ve got something. It’s loose. Maybe we can use it to get the other boards up. It feels quite long, but it’s stuck on something else.’ She rolled over, pushing her shoulder into the gap to give herself room to manoeuvre. ‘Hold on … it’s moving. I’ve got it,’ she cried, shifting her body backwards again and turning her wrist to allow her to pull the object from the hole.
She brought it out into the half-light and threw it in Elspeth’s direction. It hit the bare floorboards with a dull thump. Elspeth put her head to one side, frowned, drew nearer to get a better look, then clambered backwards, her hands and feet dragging awkwardly along the floor as she went.
‘What—’
‘Don’t look at it,’ Elspeth said.
The girl picked it up again.
‘Meggy, put that down right now. Just throw it back in there.’
&nbs
p; ‘Is that …?’ She dropped it and stood up, brushing her hands on her leggings. ‘It’s not real. Why would it be down there?’
‘I think it is real,’ Elspeth said. ‘We should just block this hole back up, right now. Come on, help me clear up.’ She grabbed the far edge of the rolled-back carpet and began pulling it towards the first corner they’d uncovered.
‘Is it from a human? It’s long. What bone is it? How come it’s there? Do you think someone had an accident and died in there?’
‘You really are twelve,’ Elspeth muttered. ‘Oh, God, I’m sorry. Meggy, listen to me right now. This was a mistake. We were never supposed to see in here. Help me put it all back.’
‘No. I need to know. I want to see.’ She threw herself back onto her stomach and let her upper body down into the hole. ‘There’s something there. It’s just a bit too far back. Hold on.’
There was a moment of silence, Meggy puffing hard, then a dragging sound, something heavy moving closer to the edge of the hole. ‘I don’t understand what this …’
Meggy screamed and the room echoed with the violence of the noise.
‘Quiet!’ Elspeth shouted, throwing herself to the ground beside the girl and wrapping a strong hand over Meggy’s mouth.
Meggy pulled her head from the hole and thrust her face into Elspeth’s shoulder, sobbing, shaking her head to and fro.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I’m sorry. You were right. I shouldn’t have looked.’
Elspeth pushed Meggy away from the hole and took a deep breath. Genie, bottle, too late were the phrases that occurred to her as she bent forward. The scrap of material that was catching the light came as no surprise. Pale pink cotton. The end of a pink ribbon a little further into the cavity. She didn’t want to look but did anyway.
The last person to have worn the dress had auburn hair. It was matted, looked infested in the half-light. The face, or whatever remained of it – small mercies – was turned away from the light. One arm was clearly visible, though. Not that you could really call it an arm any more. Whatever fleshy padding it had once possessed had dried out, leaving only leathery skin clinging to the outline of bone. There was no way of knowing how old the woman had been, nor how she’d died. But the fabric of the dress was more than just dirty. Patches of it were filthy with mud.