by JANICE FROST
Tess nodded. “I don’t see how I can help you with that.”
“On the night your mother disappeared, she left you at home with a man called Gabriel North. He was her boyfriend at the time and according to him, your mother went out that night with some friends. Mr North believed that your mother was with Ewan Cameron that evening. He also thinks that Mr Cameron might have been involved somehow in your mother’s disappearance.”
“This isn’t news to us, Sergeant.” Eloise Woodson was holding a tortoiseshell cat. She sat down next to her niece, stroking the animal, which purred loudly.
“I know,” Ava said, momentarily distracted by the cat. It was a dead ringer for her own Camden. “But we’re examining the possibility that there might be some sort of link between the two cases.”
“I suppose that’s sensible, although there’s the question of the length of time between them,” said Eloise. “What do you think, Tess?”
Tess shrugged. “I think if the police had shown more interest ten years ago we’d know by now what became of my mother.”
Eloise placed a hand on her niece’s arm. She said, “Officers, my sister was not altogether conventional but there is one thing I can tell you with absolute certainty. She loved Tess and she would never have abandoned her, no matter what the circumstances were.” She went on, “By ‘unconventional’ I simply mean that she wasn’t bothered about what other people thought of her. She wanted to sample everything life had to offer — sex, drugs, motherhood, the lot.”
Ava glanced at Tess to see her reaction. Tess’s expression revealed nothing.
Ava said, “Your sister was quite young when Tess was born, wasn’t she?”
“Twenty. But she was a wonderful mother. Her devotion to Tess was never in question.”
Ava looked at Neal. He gave no hint of what he was thinking. Ava thought that Eloise was protesting too much.
“She was a great mum,” Tess said, her eyes shining with tears. “She read to me all the time, played with me, took me places. I felt loved.”
Ava didn’t have the heart to mention the fact that Tess had been placed in the care of a man her mother hardly knew. Aunt and niece were practically clinging to one another. Neglected, the cat leapt from Eloise’s lap and carefully stretched each leg before crossing to Ava and winding itself around her ankles.
“Do you have any memory of your mother mentioning Ewan Cameron’s name, Tess?” Ava asked.
“No. I remember Gabe North. He babysat for me a couple of times and gave me a copy of Anne of Green Gables. l still have it.”
“Have you had any reason to contact Mr North recently?”
“No.”
The response came too fast. Ava and Neal’s eyes met. “How about you, Mrs Woodson? Have you had any contact with Mr North since your sister’s disappearance?”
“Of course not. Why would I? He was a suspect. I was sure the police would arrest him. I still don’t really know why they didn’t, given there seemed to be no one else involved. I’ve always suspected he concocted that story about Ewan Cameron to deflect suspicion from himself. Have you questioned him about that poor man’s murder yet?”
Ava was reluctant to admit that until a day ago, they had been unaware of Gabriel North’s existence.
Neal intervened. “Mr Cameron shared a flat with a friend by the name of David Pine. Is that name familiar to you? Or Rhona Sinclair, who became Mrs Rhona Pine?”
“Sorry, no. I was only eight. I don’t remember a lot except missing my mum.”
“My father spent five years trying to find Stephanie,” Eloise told them. “He walked the streets showing people her picture. He went to every town in Stromfordshire and beyond. He even went to London. He died five years ago, never knowing what happened to her. My mother died the year after. I’m not saying it killed them but . . . well . . .” She gave Ava and Neal a desolate look. Then, her features hardened. “It’s a terrible thing to say, but I’m glad this Ewan Cameron murder has reignited interest in what happened to my sister. I never believed the police carried out a proper investigation at the time.”
“Me too,” Tess said. “You are going to reopen Mum’s case, aren’t you?”
Ava cleared her throat but it was Neal who answered. “Our primary concern is to find Mr Cameron’s killer. If the investigation throws up any new insights into your mother’s disappearance, we’ll follow them up. That’s all I can say for the present. I’m sorry, but I don’t want to give you false hope.”
He stood up and Ava followed suit. The tortoiseshell cat was first over the threshold into the front garden.
“Your cat reminds me of my own,” Ava remarked. “Same markings. He’s lovely.”
“She.” Eloise corrected her. “Tortoiseshell cats are almost without exception female.”
Ava stared at her. “Seriously?”
Eloise stared right back. “Yes. Seriously. Isn’t there anything you detectives can get right?”
This sudden hostility took Ava by surprise. It was almost as surprising as learning that her beloved Camden was a girl.
Back in the car, Neal asked Ava for her thoughts.
“Outlandish as it sounds, I can’t help thinking that those two might just have a motive for killing Cameron. They’re desperate to refocus police time and resources on Stephanie’s disappearance. Maybe they enticed him down here somehow—”
Neal cut her off. “Intriguing idea, if a little far-fetched. I do think Tess is hiding something from us, though. She denied having been in touch with North, but I got the impression she was lying.”
“Yeah, me too. North didn’t mention Tess either, except when he talked about babysitting her ten years ago. I wonder what motive either or both of them would have for concealing that they’d met recently?”
They lapsed into silence for a while. Then Neal asked, “You really had no idea Camden was female?”
Was he grinning? “I swear. I mean there’s nothing there, but I just assumed he’d had his ‘bits’ removed. He — she — was a stray, so I had no way of knowing for sure.”
Neal leaned back and laughed. That was twice in one afternoon.
Ava glanced at him. Maybe he was coming down with something.
* * *
“There’s been a big development on the robbery at Ridgeway Farm,” PJ informed Ava and Neal upon their return. “Hammond Bell got a tip-off about a hare-coursing incident out at Pikefield this morning. He chased a number of the perps and managed to arrest one of them with the help of a local farmer who was out on his quad bike and ran him into a ditch. PC Bell questioned him in the local nick and he claimed he was out poaching on the night of the farm robbery. He had some information that he was willing to share in exchange for leniency.”
Neal whistled. “Go on,” he said.
“His name is Shane Doyle. It’s not the first time he’s been involved in this kind of thing. He’s got two priors for hare coursing and illegal gambling. Ham told him he’d make some calls, see what could be done in exchange for the information. But Doyle seemed quite happy to spill without any definite promises.” PJ looked down at her notes. “He claims to have witnessed three white males loading barrels into the back of a white transit van. He was a bit vague about the time — after midnight, he thought.” She paused again, unable to contain her excitement. “Now this is the best bit. Doyle recognised them! They’re regulars at the pub where he and his mates show their hare coursing films.” Ava smiled, and PJ continued. “He gave Ham their names and Ham passed the info onto Reg Saunders. He and a couple of PCs have just driven out to a place they rent in Holdenfield with a warrant to search the premises for stolen goods.”
“Excellent. Do you know if Ham asked Doyle whether he’d seen or heard anyone else out and about that night? Or if he’d come across Ewan Cameron’s car?”
PJ looked sheepish. “Sorry, sir. I didn’t think to ask.”
Neal nodded. Turning to Ava, he said, “Call Bell now and see if he can get anything more out of Doyle. If he
can tell us anything, this could be a real breakthrough. I’ll be in my office.”
Through his open door he heard Ava consoling the crestfallen PJ. “Don’t worry, Peej. You can’t always think of everything.”
“I’m such a doofus. It was the obvious thing to ask about, wasn’t it?”
Neal didn’t catch Ava’s reply. A couple of minutes later he heard her speaking on the phone. Then, mid-call, she strode across to Neal’s office. “PC Bell is still holding Doyle. He wants to know if we’d like to question him ourselves.” Neal gave her the thumbs up.
* * *
An hour later, Bell brought Doyle in. Doyle agreed to an informal interview without legal representation.
“So,” Neal began. “Tell us what you saw that night.”
Doyle reiterated his story about seeing the gang loading barrels into the back of a van. He even gave them part of the registration, as he remembered it, though Neal doubted that Doyle’s recall was a hundred per cent reliable. Doyle was in his mid-thirties, short and slight, with black hair that was turning grey at the temples. He looked as though he spent much of his life outdoors, for his ruddy complexion was prematurely wrinkled. Neal thought of a word from long ago: tinker. It was what his Irish grandparents had called the travellers who passed through their village every year.
“And what else did you see that night?” Neal asked.
“I saw another car,” Doyle said softly, looking at Ava. “It was parked by the woods on the other side of Ridgeway Farm. Near the old abbey.”
“Do you know what time that was?”
Doyle shook his wrists to show that he didn’t wear a watch. “Between midnight and three, I reckon.”
“Were you close enough to see anyone in the car? Did you see anyone get out?” Neal was deadpan. He didn’t want Doyle to guess how much hung on his story — he might begin embellishing it.
Doyle shifted in his seat, put a hand to his ear as if searching for a cigarette, and stroked his glossy mop of black hair. “Might have,” he said, still looking at Ava.
Sometimes Neal wondered how his sergeant put up with it. Though her looks could be useful sometimes . . . Now he was aware of Ava crossing her legs and leaning forward in her seat. He felt his own pulse quicken, and was embarrassed.
“What might you have seen, Mr Doyle?” Ava asked. Her voice was a touch huskier than normal.
Doyle leaned back in his seat. Neal felt a twinge of amusement as Ava sat back too, no doubt slightly peeved at her failure to charm him. A moment’s silence ensued.
Neal cleared his throat. He looked across at Hammond Bell who was leaning against the wall behind Doyle. “PC Bell, in your opinion is there enough evidence to prosecute Mr Doyle for his activities?” Before Bell could answer, Neal added, “Or is there room for some leeway?”
“I suppose you might say that Mr Doyle’s role was perhaps less active than others in the gang,” said Bell.
“The ones who got away?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Now, Mr Doyle, if you can just help us out on this other matter, I think PC Bell here might find that his memory of your part in this morning’s events is somewhat hazy.”
Doyle looked behind him and caught Hammond Bell’s reluctant nod.
“Well now,” he said slowly, “seems to me that I do know a bit about that car.”
Neal’s patience was running out. “Get on with it, Doyle.”
“I saw a car parked up at the old abbey that night. It was a Ford, I think, not in the best condition. I would have walked past it except I noticed the key was in the ignition and I couldn’t help trying the door handle. Anyone would have done the same. It wasn’t locked. There was a wallet and a few other bits on the passenger seat. Talk about putting temptation in a man’s way.” Doyle looked around as if for approval. “I got in, thinking to drive a little way up the road in case the owner came back. I’m no car thief, you know? I just wanted to check it over, see what else I could find.”
Neal nodded.
“I stopped in the woods up near the farm—”
“Ridgeway Farm?”
Doyle nodded. “I thought to leave it a bit hidden, you know?”
Neal caught Ava’s eye. Finally, an explanation for the car being found so far from the crime scene. He said, “You helped yourself to what you wanted and threw away the rest?”
“There was a fair bit of cash in the wallet, but I had no need of the driver’s licence or any of the other bits.”
“Did you see anyone when you were near the abbey? Or hear anything?”
Doyle tilted his head as if listening. “There was a dog barking. I was in a bit of a hurry to get going, you know?”
“And you were in the car when you saw the farm thieves?”
“Sure, there was quite a commotion.”
Not enough of a commotion to wake the farmer, though, Neal thought wryly. “Thank you, Mr Doyle, you’ve been most helpful.” Doyle nodded, smiling hopefully. Neal added, “Pity you didn’t come forward when Mr Cameron’s murder was made public. An anonymous tip-off would have been enough.” To Ham, he said, “Get him out of here before I change my mind and throw the book at him.”
Chapter 16
Laura finished reading Rowan and Holly their bedtime story and kissed them goodnight, hoping they would settle quickly. She was a little surprised at how readily Rhona and David had accepted her offer to babysit while they went out for the evening. Now, sitting downstairs with Shaun asleep in her lap, she wished she could put Gabe North off. He would already be parked somewhere in the village, and had probably even spotted David and Rhona drive past on their way to Stromford. Too late to bottle out.
Less than five minutes after her call, she moved the curtain aside and caught sight of him emerging furtively from some bushes at the side of the drive and making his way across the lawn towards the house. Afraid that his knock might wake the children, she crept to the door and opened it slightly to let him see the light. Within seconds he was standing in the Pines’ tiled hallway, shadowy in the orange glow of a night light on the landing, halfway up the stairs. With a finger to her lips, Laura pointed towards the sitting room and Shaun, now asleep in his Moses basket. “This was a stupid idea,” she said.
“I had no idea the Pines were so well off. This is a beautiful house,” Gabe said, peering into the room.
“We need to get started. There isn’t much time,” Laura said. “I don’t feel good about this.”
“Are you sure there’s no chance of finding something among Ewan’s things at home?”
“I told you, he shredded everything.”
“We’ll split up — it’ll be quicker. You do the bedrooms. I’ll look around down here.” Gabe said, taking charge.
Laura began her search in David and Rhona’s bedroom. As far as she could tell, Rhona had been telling the truth when she said that she and David did not always sleep in separate rooms. There were traces of David’s presence here, crumpled pyjamas on the pillow, his razor in the en suite bathroom.
She tried to think of places where she would hide a picture or a drawing, and went through all those places first. This is futile, she thought. Why would David or Rhona keep anything that could implicate them in a young woman’s sudden disappearance? Still, she continued, and for the next hour Laura pried into the minutiae of Rhona and David’s personal lives. She turned out drawers and cupboards, pockets and handbags, and boxes crammed with everything from old bills to snapshots. She looked under beds, lifted rugs, moved pictures and ran searching fingers under furniture she couldn’t shift. There was no sound from downstairs.
Abandoning her own search at last, Laura checked on the girls and carried Shaun upstairs to David and Rhona’s bedroom where she gently put him, still fast asleep, in his cot.
She joined Gabe in the kitchen. His look told her his search had revealed nothing. He said, “We should look in the loft.” The suggestion made Laura nervous. She glanced at her watch. Rhona and David would not be back for at least
another couple of hours, but what if one of the girls woke up?
Reluctantly she agreed.
Back upstairs, she stood guard at the bottom of the ladder while Gabe disappeared into the loft. Laura grew increasingly uneasy as she waited. The silence in the house was oppressive. She wondered again why she had come to stay with David and Rhona. She gazed up the ladder at the dark, yawning opening. What did she know about Gabe North, this stranger in David and Rhona’s loft?
Unable to bear the silence, she climbed the ladder and poked her head into the roof space. In the torchlight, she could make out Gabe North’s silhouette. He was stooped over an open suitcase, which she recognised as the one Rhona had used years ago when she went to visit David in Stromford.
“That was Rhona’s weekend case. What’s in it? Have you found something?” Her voice startled him and he dropped the torch. It landed in the suitcase, which for a moment seemed to glow from within. Laura pulled herself into the roof space and knelt beside Gabe and the open case. She focused the torch beam on the contents and gasped. She picked up the sketchbook which was lying on top of the other stuff. It had Ewan’s name on the cover. She opened it and looked at the first page. There Steph was, so like Tess, looking back at her with an amused expression. Ewan had drawn Steph seated on the floor, her legs folded at her side and her arms around her breasts in a classic pose.
Laura turned to look at Gabe and saw him swallow. Page after page revealed drawings of the same young woman. Ewan had scribbled his signature on every one.
“Tear out a page and put the notebook back,” Gabe said. Laura obeyed him mechanically. Together they repacked the case and climbed out of the loft. As she descended the ladder, Laura’s foot slipped. She missed a rung and Gabe grasped her arm to steady her. A memory, sudden and unexpected jolted her. Their first date. Ewan, grasping her arm when she tripped over a tree root in Princes Street gardens in Edinburgh. Their first kiss.
“Thanks,” she mumbled to Gabe, suddenly awash with nostalgia for lost innocence.