by Ford, P. F.
‘Who told you that?’
‘It’s just what I heard,’ she said, vaguely. ‘Anyway, you seem to have taken to the change in DCI. You really like her don’t you?’
‘She’s alright.’
He saw Darling smile as she turned the car into Laurel Close.
It was one of those dull, grey October mornings, and somehow, as they pulled up, the weather seemed to have made the Crump’s depressing house seem even more so.
‘This probably sounds a bit strange,’ said Darling, ‘but I think this house fits him, if you see what I mean. It’s as shabby and depressing as he is, you know? But I just can’t see how it fits her. You wait, you’ll see what I mean when you meet her.’
As soon as Melanie Crump opened the front door, Slater understood what Darling meant. Whereas Michael Crump dressed in shabby, lacklustre clothes that were well past their best, Melanie wore only the best designer labels. The difference was so great, it was difficult not to stare.
Slater couldn’t picture Melanie Crump placing her designer-clad bottom on the shabby settee he had been sat on just the day before, and he was right. Instead of leading them to the tatty, dust-covered lounge on the right, she led them through a door on the left. This room was opulent by comparison, with expensive wallpaper, thick-piled carpets, and soft leather furniture. It was as if they’d gone through a door into a completely different house.
‘I can imagine what you’re thinking,’ said Melanie, taking in their faces. ‘I won’t lie to you, there’s no point. Michael and I live completely separate lives. He has his rooms, and I have mine.’
‘Can I ask why?’ asked Slater.
‘Yes, you can ask,’ she said, making it quite clear she wasn’t going to provide him with an answer. ‘When you said you wanted to talk to me you didn’t say anything about prying into my private life.’
‘In a case like this,’ said Slater, ‘we have to ask awkward questions that people would rather not answer. When a married couple are living the way you and Mr Crump are, it suggests there are major problems between you. Those problems might be relevant to our case.’
She looked distinctly uncomfortable at what Slater was suggesting.
‘Let’s just say he has some preferences, and some habits, that I have no intention of sharing, or allowing, in my house.’
‘Would these habits be sexual in nature?’
This time she looked horrified, but there was something about her that made Slater feel pretty certain she was no prude, and her reaction seemed more staged than genuine.
‘Let me be a bit more specific,’ he said. ‘Is your husband interested in children?’
Her mouth flapped open once or twice before she spoke.
‘My husband has never been in trouble with the police.’
‘That wasn’t my question. We found a photograph of a little girl when we searched this house, but it was the only one. We think that’s a little strange. People who don’t have children of their own tend to have loads of photos of kids they see often, like nieces and nephews, or they have no photos of kids at all.’
She was wringing her hands in her lap now.
‘We found the same photo in Michael’s wallet,’ said Slater. ‘Who is this little girl, Melanie?’
‘I don’t know who she is. I took the photo off him ages ago. I didn’t realise he had a second copy.’
‘Why does he carry it?’
‘He says he found it,’ she said, bitterly. ‘He says he carries it as a reminder of the daughter we never had.’
There was an uncomfortable silence, but it seemed she wasn’t going to elaborate.
‘What happened?’ he asked.
‘I lost the baby,’ she said, defiantly, ‘and I never got pregnant again. It was no big deal, I got over it, but he makes out like it was the end of the world. Pathetic, that’s what he is. We never even knew if it was a girl, so how can he be so sure?’
‘He carries the first scan in his wallet as well,’ he said.
‘That’s not our scan,’ she said, scornfully. ‘I don’t know where he got that from. I never even got as far as telling my doctor, so having a scan was never arranged. Besides, I was too busy at work to worry about scans. I knew I was pregnant, I didn’t need a machine to tell me what I already knew.’
‘What do you do?’ he asked.
‘I’m sales director for a cosmetics company.’
‘What about back then?’
‘I was with the same company, working my way up the ladder,’ she said.
‘You were ambitious then?’
‘One of us had to be.’
‘So having a baby would have been a hindrance to your ambitions?’
‘I lost the baby, so it was immaterial,’ she said, sullenly.
‘Is that what your husband became depressed about?’ asked Slater.
‘That’s just an excuse for not getting a proper job,’ she said. ‘He’s not depressed, he’s just pathetic.’
‘Did he turn up last night?’ asked Darling.
‘I don’t know, do I? I didn’t hear him come in, but then I wasn’t exactly keen to see him, so when I got home I went straight to bed, I didn’t wait up.’
‘Is he here now?’ asked Slater.
‘No.’
‘Can I ask where you were last night?’
‘Out with friends,’ she said. ‘What? Am I a suspect now? Do I need an alibi?’
‘As far as I’m aware you weren’t involved in any crimes last night so, no, you don’t need an alibi. I was just trying to get some background,’ said Slater. ‘My colleague tells me you’ve been away for a few days.’
‘I already told her. I went to see my dad.’
‘Where does he live?’
‘Up north,’ she said, the irritation becoming clear in her voice.
‘Big place, up north.’
She sighed and rolled her eyes.
‘Manchester, if you must know.’
Slater smiled at her.
‘I think that will be all for now, Mrs Crump. Thank you for your co-operation. I hope we won’t have to bother you again, but it is a possibility.’
‘Oh great,’ she said, with heavy sarcasm. ‘I’ll try not to lose too much sleep if it doesn’t happen.’
Slater eased himself from the comfort of his armchair. It was time to go.
‘Do you think I could use your loo?’ Darling asked.
Slater frowned at her.
‘Sorry,’ she said, looking uncomfortable, ‘but I won’t make it back.’
‘It’s upstairs,’ said Melanie, with a slightly more pleasant tone.
‘I’ll wait in the car,’ said Slater, as Darling disappeared up the stairs. Then he had an idea.
‘One more thing, Mrs Crump,’ he said. ‘What’s your maiden name?’
‘Why d’you need to know that?’ she asked, aggressively.
He grinned at her anger.
‘Oh, I don’t need to know it,’ he said. ‘But, like I said before, I’m getting a feel for the background. If you don’t want to tell me I can find out anyway, but you could save me a little time.’
‘It’s Reece,’ she said.
‘Thank you,’ he said, and let himself out.
‘He’s a miserable sod, that boss of yours,’ Melanie said to Darling as she came back down the stairs.
‘He’s not always this bad,’ said Darling, with a smile. ‘I’ve heard he even smiles sometimes.’
‘Have you got a card?’
‘Sorry?’
‘A card, with your phone number, in case I need to talk to someone. Only I don’t really want to talk to old misery guts.’
‘Do you think you will need to talk to someone?’ asked Darling, fumbling in her bag. She produced a card and handed it over.
‘It’s a terrible thing when a child gets murdered. I’d like to help if I can.’
Darling thought that was a bit of a mysterious thing to say, but she decided not to push it.
‘He wasn’t upstai
rs,’ said Darling, when she joined Slater in the car.
‘I didn’t really think she would be covering for him,’ he said. ‘I get the impression she’d be more likely to hand him in than hide him.’
‘I thought it was worth checking.’
‘Oh, it was the right thing to do. You never can tell with some people, and Melanie Crump is definitely one of those people.’
‘So what did you make of her?’ asked Darling, as she put the car in gear and pulled away.
‘She’s interesting, that’s for sure. Driven by ambition. She certainly cares a lot more for her job than she does for her husband.’
‘Did you buy all that crap about being too busy for a scan? Most of the girls I know who’ve got pregnant couldn’t wait to have a scan to make sure everything was alright.’
‘Ah, but what if you were ambitious and didn’t want to get pregnant?’ asked Slater.
‘There are ways of stopping it from happening, if you’re that ambitious.’
‘Yeah, but they have been known to fail. What if she didn’t want to have a scan because she didn’t want to admit she was pregnant? Like she said, she didn’t need a scan to tell her what her own body had already told her.’
‘She doesn’t look like the sort who would be in denial,’ said Darling.
‘I wasn’t actually thinking about her being in denial,’ he said. ‘I was thinking she doesn’t sound the sort who would have wanted a thing like pregnancy to get in the way of her career.’
‘So what are you saying?’
‘Well, losing the baby was a bit convenient, wasn’t it? I’m not sure exactly how old she is, but she’s got to be in her fifties. For the sake of argument let’s say she’s fifty-five, so twenty years ago she would have been in her prime, a thirty-five-year-old high flyer in a competitive environment. Taking time out to have a baby could have set her career back a long way.’
‘You mean you think she got rid of the baby?’ asked Darling.
‘It has to be a possibility, doesn’t it? She said she hadn’t even been to her doctor. That’s not the behaviour of someone who wants a baby, is it?’
‘But her doctor would have to approve something like that.’
‘How could he, if he didn’t know?’ asked Slater. ‘And you know as well as me there are still places you can get these things done for cash, no questions asked.’
Darling thought about this for a minute.
‘Alright,’ she said, ‘I suppose it is possible, but if you are right, how does it help us?’
‘Maybe it doesn’t help us at all, directly, but it might explain Michael Crump’s depression, and that might help us.’
‘How d’you mean explain his depression?’
‘He told us himself,’ said Slater. ‘He had always wanted a family, so when his wife announced she was pregnant, he thinks it’s his dream come true, but then she comes home and tells him she’s lost the baby. It might be what she wanted, but what about him?’
‘But what if she never told him? Suppose it’s all in his head.’
‘It must be true,’ said Slater. ‘Otherwise why would she admit it to us?’
‘Unless, of course, it was all in her head,’ said Darling. ‘We know she doesn’t like him.’
Slater looked across at her. This was something he hadn’t considered.
‘Christ,’ he said. ‘Do you really think she could be that devious? She starts a lie to get at her husband, and then uses us to perpetuate it twenty years on. It’s a bit of a long game isn’t it?’
‘You said yourself she’s driven. If she thought he was holding her back, who knows what she might be prepared to do. Driven people can be pretty ruthless, and women can be very cunning. Trust me, I know this. I am one.’
Slater didn’t quite know what to say to that idea. There was no doubt Michael Crump had problems...
‘Why not just divorce him? It’s not exactly difficult these days is it?’
‘She’s the one with the money,’ said Darling. ‘He’d get half.’
‘Yeah, I suppose so,’ said Slater.
‘Talking about him,’ she said, ‘what do we do about him being missing?’
‘Technically, he’s not missing yet, so there’s not much we can do. If we start making a big fuss, I suspect his solicitor will start accusing us of harassment. We’ll just have to hope he turns up of his own volition.’
‘I found another one, on the national database,’ announced Norman, when they got back to the incident room. ‘Same victim profile and same MO, disappeared from outside the school while waiting for her mum. Little girl, blonde hair, only this one was nine years old. This was twenty years ago, but guess what the date was?’
‘You’re kidding me,’ said Slater.
‘I wish I was, but it’s exactly the same – 20th October.’
‘Where did it happen?’ asked Darling.
‘Near Manchester.’
Slater and Darling looked at each other.
‘If that’s a coincidence, I’m going to buy an enormous hat, just so I can eat it,’ said Slater.
‘What?’ asked Norman, looking puzzled.
‘Melanie Crump,’ said Darling. ‘She’s just told us her father lives near Manchester.’
‘Oh my. It looks like our friend Michael Crump just shot back to the number one spot.’
‘With nobs on,’ added Darling. ‘Maybe that’s why he’s gone missing.’
‘It’s still not enough to bring him back in,’ said Slater. ‘We need something concrete.’
‘Okay. So now what?’
‘We still need to take a closer look at Clive Morrison’s alibi, and make sure it all checks out. We’ll do that next.’ Slater turned to Norman. ‘Can we get hold of that case file?’
‘Paperwork’s all done,’ said Norman. ‘You just need to sign it, and send it off.’
‘Magic,’ said Slater. ‘I’ll do that now, and then we’ll go and see how reliable this alibi really is.’
Lawrence and Son, Clive Morrison’s employer, was located in a factory unit on a small industrial estate to the west of town. The sign outside said they created and supplied bespoke kitchens. Clive Morrison was one of their sales team.
‘I’m looking for Clive Morrison,’ said Darling, as she approached the reception counter. Slater trailed behind, taking in his surroundings.
The receptionist, who couldn’t have been more than eighteen years old, looked down her nose at Darling and smirked.
‘Well, you’re wasting your time looking here. You wouldn’t know he was supposed to be one of the staff, he’s more like an occasional visitor. I can’t remember the last time he was here.’
‘Oh, really? Was he here on Monday?’
‘My memory’s not that bad. He’s definitely not been here this week. I would have seen him.’
‘In that case, I’d better speak to Simon Lawrence.’
‘Why, what’s he done?’
‘I not quite sure, yet,’ said Darling. ‘Does he make a habit of getting into trouble with the police?’ As she spoke, she brandished her warrant card at the receptionist, who blanched at the sight of it. ‘My name’s DC Darling, and this is DS Slater,’
‘Oh, err, police. Right,’ said the receptionist, looking shaken.
‘Is Simon here?’
‘I think so,’ stammered the girl, reaching for the phone. ‘Let me try his number.’
‘Yes, why don’t you?’ Darling drummed her fingers on the counter as she waited.
Slater smiled to himself. As it had been Darling who had phoned and spoken to Simon Lawrence originally, he had suggested she should ask the questions now. He would be there as back up.
‘He’s in his office,’ said the girl. ‘If you’d like to wait-’
‘Which way is it?’ said Darling, cutting her off, abruptly.
‘Up the stairs.’ The girl pointed to a staircase off to their left. ‘His is the first door on the right.’
Darling began marching off towards the stai
rcase.
‘He says he’s busy,’ said the girl, looking hopefully at Slater.
‘Yes, love, so are we,’ said Slater, following in Darling’s wake. He almost had to run to keep up with her going up the stairs.
‘This must be it,’ said Darling, pointing to a door bearing the words ‘Marketing Director’. She knocked once on the door, opened it and barged in.
A young man, who looked about twenty, was sitting back, feet on the desk, watching something on his computer screen. As they walked in he panicked, and in his haste to hide what he was watching, he came close to doing himself an injury as he tried to reach for his mouse while his feet were still upon the desk. Slater couldn’t see the screen, but the sounds he could hear made it simple to work out what the man was watching.
‘Are you old enough to watch that stuff?’ asked Slater.
‘Sports channel,’ muttered the man, his face now scarlet, as he managed to reach the mouse and switch off the film.
‘I suppose that’s one way of describing it,’ said Darling.
‘Anyway who the f-’ began the young man.
‘Watch your language! There’s a lady present.’ Slater fixed him with a stare.
‘Are you Simon Lawrence?’ asked Darling.
‘Yes, I am,’ said the young man, bitterly. ‘And who the bloody hell do you think you are, barging in here like that?’
Darling flashed the card again and did the introductions. This seemed to take the wind out of Lawrence’s sails and his anger began to fade, to be replaced by a degree of reticence.
‘You might remember me,’ said Darling. ‘We spoke the other day.’
‘We did?’ Lawrence looked blank.
‘About Clive Morrison. You told me he was here all afternoon on Monday.’
‘Ah, yeah,’ said Lawrence, looking distinctly sheepish. ‘That was you, was it?’
‘You look a bit guilty about something,’ said Slater. ‘And I don’t think it’s got anything to do with that porn film you were watching when we came in.’
‘Who me?’ said Lawrence, raising his eyebrows. ‘No, not me.’
Slater and Darling stared at him, but said nothing. Lawrence stared at the things on top of his desk and began to rearrange them.
‘That’s something people do when they’re lying,’ Darling said to Slater.