by JANICE FROST
Reg shrugged. He looked bored. “They bumped him off and dumped him. Why look further than that?”
“Well, thanks anyway.”
“My pleasure, Blondie.”
Ava winced. She winced again when Saunders noticed and smirked. She retreated hastily.
* * *
“Honestly, Peej, Reg Saunders gives me the creeps.”
“Huh?” said PJ, “Oh, yeah, Reg Saunders. He’s a lech. Tried it on with me at the Christmas party a few years back. I told him where to go. I wouldn’t have thought he’d have the nerve to take you on, though.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.” Ava was five six and slim, but not skinny. Her body was muscled from years of exercise and martial arts training. At the station she had a reputation for being able to take care of herself.
“He calls me Blondie,” she told PJ. “I could probably report him for that if I could even be bothered.”
“He has a nickname for most people. He tends to keep them slightly below insulting. He calls DI Neal ‘Scotty.’ As in ‘Beam me up.’”
“I know, I know,” Ava said. “I hear you were here till eight last night. You know, there’s no need to burn yourself out just because you’re a detective now. Remember what Neal said about sharing tasks with the rest of the team?”
“I didn’t even notice the time,” PJ said. “I got so caught up in what I was doing.”
“What have you got so far?” Ava asked.
“I decided to start with David Pine and Ewan Cameron, so I contacted my mum’s friend, Julia — you know, the one I said used to teach at the art college? She remembered them. They were both good students. Ewan was the talented one, the one she thought would make it as an artist. David had a good head for business, apparently. He’s been pretty successful, hasn’t he?” Ava nodded. “They were friends all through art college. Julia was surprised to hear they’d fallen out.”
“Did she give you any sort of impression of what kind of people they were?”
“Sorry. She just said they were typical students.”
Ava felt a little sorry for PJ. She was trying so hard. Ava hoped she had more to offer than this.
“I did go down to the college and request a list of students who were there at the same time as Pine and Cameron. I’ve been looking through, seeing if any of the names are in our system or if any of them are still in the area. A couple of their classmates have form. Drugs, alcohol-related incidents, other fairly minor stuff. There was one thing that’s probably not relevant. Pine and Cameron were both questioned in relation to the disappearance of a young mother in 2004. A suspect in the case who was later cleared pointed the finger at them but they had alibis and there was no evidence to link them with the woman.” She shrugged. “Probably nothing.”
Ava whistled softly. “That’s not nothing, Peej. It’s certainly worth following up. I don’t suppose you noticed who the investigating officers were, did you?” She waited while PJ checked the database.
“You’ll never guess. Your friend and mine, DI Saunders, was one of them. He interviewed Cameron and Pine and also a Rhona Wilson. The future Mrs Rhona Pine, I’m guessing.”
“That’s odd,” Ava remarked.
PJ looked at her quizzically.
“Saunders didn’t say anything about having come across the Pines before. Still, it was ten years ago, maybe he just forgot. Good find, though, Peej. High five!”
“High five!” They slapped palms, just as Neal appeared. He raised an eyebrow and Ava explained.
“Pull out the case file, it may be relevant,” Neal instructed PJ. “DS Merry will look it over with you. If anything shouts out to you, let me know. How are you getting on with the other stuff I asked you to look into?” Neal perched on a corner of PJ’s desk and Ava smiled. Not so long ago PJ would have swooned if Neal had paid her this much attention. Now she was in a happy relationship with Steve Bryce, and she hardly seemed to notice.
“Nothing from their credit checks yet. I’ve asked Mateusz to check out their profiles on Facebook and other social networking sites.”
“Mateusz?”
“Mateusz Wyrzyk. Young Polish guy. He started when you were on leave, sir. Good with computers.”
Neal nodded.
“I phoned Ewan Cameron’s most recent employer. Seems he never fulfilled his promise as an artist. Ended up drifting from job to job. He was dismissed from his most recent job for his frequent absences. His manager hinted that there might have been an issue with drugs or alcohol but when I questioned her she said it was only a hunch based on Cameron’s behaviour and appearance.”
“Did Laura Cameron mention any sort of addiction when you spoke with her in Edinburgh?” Ava asked Neal.
“She mentioned that he drank. As far as drugs go, I got the impression she didn’t want to know.
“She never mentioned it to me. Maybe she was worried we’d take the death of a drug addict or an alcoholic less seriously?”
Neal’s only response was, “Hmm.”
“Are people always this uncooperative?” asked PJ.
“They tend to be selective about what they choose to divulge,” Ava commented. “I have a feeling that Laura Cameron hasn’t been very forthcoming at all about her relationship with her husband. One minute she’s all ‘I loved him from the start,’ and the next it’s ‘actually we’d grown apart and I didn’t really give a toss about him.’ Does anyone else get that impression?”
“I suspect she found her husband as baffling as we do,” Neal said. “Understanding Ewan Cameron’s state of mind could be the key to discovering why he was killed.”
“Oh, I almost forgot,” PJ said. “Dan Cardew called about half an hour ago. He wanted to speak to either one of you.”
“I’ll go down and see him,” Ava said.
Neal nodded, already making for his office.
Ava found the shy SOCO in the forensics department. It was situated in the basement and Ava often wondered how its denizens put up with their subterranean working environment. She thought she’d go crazy not seeing daylight all day. Dan tended to bumble a bit in her presence, which might have made conversation awkward were it not for Ava’s easy-going manner and her ability to make people feel valued. And Dan’s enthusiasm for his work tended to make him forget his shyness once he got into it.
Ava greeted Dan cheerfully. “PJ said you might have something for us.”
Dan led her over to his workspace, where Ava recognised some of the items that had been retrieved from around Ewan Cameron’s body. Sealed in a transparent evidence bag with an identifying label, was the blue inhaler case that she’d picked up in the woods.
“DNA and other lab tests haven’t come back yet,” Dan explained unnecessarily. Nowadays this kind of work had to be outsourced, everything was cost-driven, even murder investigations. “I’ve run some basic tests on Mr Cameron’s clothing and the items that were recovered from his person.”
Ava nodded, looking over the scant personal possessions. There was a wristwatch, a couple of pens, some loose change and an Edinburgh library card. No wallet, no mobile phone, no wedding ring. Some of these had been recovered near the car, along with Cameron’s driving licence, and were lying on a separate part of the table. She waited for Dan to fill her in.
“When a body is dragged along the ground, sometimes you find particles deposited on the clothing. I analysed the soil samples I collected from the folds in Mr Cameron’s trousers and compared these to soil samples taken from the site where his car was found.”
Ava nodded, interested.
Dan lifted up two separate bags each containing soil particulates. “They were quite different,” he said. “I’ll spare you the technical details. Essentially it’s unlikely that Mr Cameron was killed where his car was found. It’s still a mystery why he and the car were so far apart, though.”
Ava thanked Dan. There was little that was new in the information, but it did make it seem less likely that Cameron’s death and the robbery at Ridge
way Farm were linked. As she walked up from Dan’s subterranean chamber, light spilled through the glass doors at the top, throwing a brilliant light onto the last few steps.
Ava gave a wry smile.
Chapter 12
“I’m sorry I was out so long today, Rhone.” Rhona was taking a fruit cake out of the oven and Laura stood at the kitchen door, watching. Shaun was gurgling contentedly in his carrycot, and David was still at work. The girls’ voices drifted through from the sitting room where they were engaged in some game or other. It was early evening and the kitchen was warm and cosy. It seemed a good time to talk.
“Have you eaten?” Rhona asked. “I’ve made a cake. The children have had their tea. I thought we could eat later when the girls have gone to bed. David’s going to be late.”
“The cake smells wonderful. I’d love a piece. Shall I make a cup of tea?” Laura put the kettle on while Rhona tipped the cake onto a cooling tray. As she waited for the water to boil, Laura gazed abstractedly at a pot of rosemary on the windowsill. The herbs reminded her suddenly of Ewan, of a sketch he had made of her window box in Edinburgh, full of scraggly herbs that refused to die. She’d thought the sketch quite lovely and Ewan had offered to have it framed for her birthday. It was on the kitchen wall above her fridge.
Laura had little appetite but knew she ought to eat. She watched as Rhona cut two generous slices of fruitcake and put them on plates.
Rhona took a bite, saying, “I like it like this, hot and straight from the oven. Let yours cool down if you prefer.”
Well, it’s now or never, Laura thought. Watching her friend closely, she asked, “Rhona, do you remember our last year at uni when you were travelling down to Stromford every other weekend to see David?”
“When I should have been studying for finals, you mean? You used to make me feel guilty staying behind to work.”
Laura smiled. Her heart beat faster as she asked her next question. “Was Ewan seeing someone at that time? A woman quite a bit older than him, with a child? I think her name was Steph.”
Rhona’s full five seconds of silence spoke volumes. “Steph? No. The name doesn’t sound familiar.”
“Think hard, Rhona. It’s kind of important.”
Rhona looked unsure. Strange to think that they had told each other everything once. Or so Laura had believed. “Why, Laura? You know I was never comfortable about your so-called arrangement. Rhona pushed aside her plate, as though the cake was suddenly distasteful.
“I’m just, well, curious, that’s all. Now that Ewan’s . . . gone, I kind of resent those years apart, the time he spent with other women. I feel I want to claw those years back, you know? There’ll be no more future so I want more of the past.” Then, suddenly tired of tiptoeing around it, Laura blurted out, “I know what happened to her.”
Rhona stared at her. Her expression was puzzled and fearful. “What do you mean?” she asked.
“I know she disappeared,” Laura said. She saw Rhona’s fear recede. What had she expected Laura to say? Now, more than ever, Laura was convinced that she had been left out. They knew something. As she studied Rhona’s reactions, she felt sure her friend was trying to assess just how much she needed to say. Laura had no intention of making it easy for her.
Neither of them spoke. Rhona glanced over at her son who had dozed off, his head slumping forward at an awkward angle. She reached out to him, then her arm dropped to her side.
Laura broke the silence. “It must have been harrowing for you. Being questioned by the police after Steph went missing, I mean. As though you were suspects.” Laura’s voice dropped to a whisper. “Was she . . . special to him? You know — not like the others. Did he . . . care about her?” She’d wanted to ask if Ewan had loved Steph but the word stuck in her throat. Rhona wouldn’t meet her eye. “Don’t tell me you don’t remember this Steph. I know you do.”
Rhona’s eyes darted about as though she had been backed into a corner. Finally she looked up and Laura recoiled, alarmed at the malice in her narrowed eyes.
“Yes, I remember Steph. Ewan was besotted with her.” Spite had hardened Rhona’s features. “There. Happy now?”
Besotted. “So she wasn’t like the others? She was special?”
They heard the crunching of tyres on gravel. Rhona’s expression conveyed a warning. “That’s David, he’s back early. Probably best not to mention our conversation. He was so sensitive about it all at the time. No point stirring up old ghosts.” Rhona hurried out of the door.
Laura fixed her eyes on the pot of rosemary again. There was something unsettling about Rhona’s desire to hide their discussion from David. Her fingers touched the bruise on her arm where David had gripped her at the party the other night. It was still tender. His eagerness to know what Gabe North had been saying to her was also unsettling. Laura shivered. Had it been wise to come and stay with Rhona and David after so many years of not speaking to them? Did she really know her friends anymore? Laura was beginning to feel that David and Rhona were strangers to her.
Laura did not believe that David and Ewan had fallen out for the reason she’d been given. She was being denied some knowledge about the past. She envied David and Rhona. Even if the knowledge they shared was dreadful, it bound them together tightly.
She made no mention of Steph in David’s presence.
Later, at the children’s bedtime, Rowan burst into tears. She had been having nightmares every night since Ewan died, and her teacher had told Rhona that she’d been upset at school a couple of times and wouldn’t say what was troubling her.
“She asked if everything was alright at home,” Rhona explained to Laura. “I mentioned that you were staying with us and told her that it was your husband who was found at the old abbey. But the nightmares started before you arrived. I don’t understand what’s upsetting her.”
“You don’t think what the police suggested might be true, do you? That Rowan and her friend Zak might have been out the night Ewan was murdered? What if they saw something and they’re too frightened to tell?”
But as before, Rhona would have none of it. She had questioned her daughter about it, Laura knew, but how did she know whether Rowan was telling the truth when she said she had been in bed all that night? It was a mistake to think that children could not lie convincingly. Laura had learned that much in her years as a teacher. Often it was about the biggest, darkest secrets that they lied the most convincingly.
Unwilling to let Rhona off the hook, Laura waited until the children were asleep and David was in his study. Then she resumed their earlier conversation. “What do you think happened to Steph?”
Rhona was sipping wine, The crystal glass glinted in the light from a candle in a storm jar on the coffee table. Rhona gave a deep sigh. “Oh, Laura. Why do you have to keep going on about her? You’re the one Ewan wanted in the end. He married you, didn’t he?” There was no kindness or reassurance in her tone, but rather weariness and a hint of rancour. “Surely he told you, didn’t he?”
“He never mentioned her at all,” Laura said without thinking.
“So who did? Was it that Gabe North you were talking to at Ham’s birthday party?”
Laura realised her mistake and tried to backtrack. “No, not him. Ewan must have mentioned Steph some time, or maybe I saw her name written down somewhere.” She realised that her palms were sweating, and resisted the urge to wipe them on her jeans.
Rhona sighed again. She looked at Laura, and this time her eyes were full of pity. “Ewan told David he loved Steph more than life itself.”
Laura’s head reeled. She tried to swallow but her mouth was dry. She had already guessed, but it still hit her with the force of a runaway train.
“I’m sorry,” Rhona said, the pity gone. “But you did ask.”
“So what was I? His second choice? Because Steph disappeared?” Rhona didn’t answer. “That’s it then, isn’t it? I’m right.”
“What do you want me to tell you, Laura?”
Laura sn
apped back. “The truth would be nice for a change. Why did you all tell the police that you didn’t know Steph?”
“Just . . . Let it go, please, Laura,” Rhona said. “It won’t bring you any peace and there’s really nothing else to tell. They had a relationship for a time and then Steph vanished. End of story.”
Laura could tell she was uneasy again. Rhona kept looking at the door, as though afraid that David might walk in at any moment. It was in Laura’s mind to say that she would speak to him, only Rhona’s obvious disquiet restrained her.
Laura’s eyes narrowed. “I think you know what happened to Steph. I think you’ve all been lying about something and I want to know what it is.”
“Please, Laura. So much has happened since then. David and I have brought three wonderful children into the world. That’s got to count for something, hasn’t it?”
There it was again — an idea of atonement. Were Rhona’s children supposed to compensate for something ugly in her past? She wondered if she should do as Rhona suggested and let it go, but then she remembered Gabe’s plea. Laura was inclined to be passive and accepting. She had wondered, of course she had, why Ewan had practically begged her to marry him. But then she had closed her eyes to the fact that Ewan had become a stranger to her. Did she have the right to deny Steph’s daughter access to the truth that she herself had failed to seek?
* * *
Olivia Darby dropped her son Zak off at school, waited a few minutes until he was out of sight and then reversed the car, driving back the way she’d come. She’d told Zak she was going to Stromford, and she was — only not immediately. First she had to meet someone. There was a continental market in town and she wanted to pick up a few treats. It was a journey she often made, usually alone or with Faye or another female friend. This morning she was going with Bran Gallagher. He had a day off work and they had arranged to spend it in Stromford, looking around the market and having lunch together. It was a sort of date, she supposed, even though they were meeting during the day. She had waved Zak off at the school gates, feeling deceitful. She had mentioned the market to him and promised to bring back some of those pastries he really liked from the French stall. She had not told him she was going with Bran.