by G D Sanders
‘It happens to all of us, Mr Leaman. There may be someone who saw you drive away. You were driving?’
‘No, it was a nice evening and I’d walked over. You’ve got to be careful if you’re planning on having a few bevvies. Actually, I walk about town quite a lot. One’s got to keep trim.’
Ed thought the last comment a little odd coming from a middle-aged man showing all the signs of a rugby-club lifestyle without the exercise that comes from regular training and hard-fought matches.
‘Could anybody vouch for the time you left home and when you returned?’
‘I live alone in an apartment on the Old Dover Road.’
‘Possibly one of the other tenants might have heard you leave?’
‘Possibly but it’s a converted Victorian building, solidly built. You hear very little from inside your own place.’
‘Thank you, Mr Leaman. You can leave that with us for the moment. Of course, we may need to speak to you again later.’
The other two teachers questioned about their movements on the evening of Friday, 15 June, Stephan Anders and Alex Carlton, admitted they were alone for crucial periods that evening. Ed resolved to question them again in order to explore potential alibis.
Later that afternoon the official leaving do for DI Saunders was held in the Incident Room. Chief Superintendent Addler made a short but surprisingly gracious speech and Potts reiterated how much they’d miss him. Then the team took their departing DI out for a farewell dinner. Ed was invited to join them. When she demurred, Saunders insisted it should be a double celebration so Ed agreed but she was adamant she’d leave before coffee. When the time came she left to calls of ‘See you tomorrow, Boss’. It wasn’t a title she favoured but Ed was grateful for the show of acceptance. Tomorrow this would be her team and she was determined they’d make progress, not for the crime stats but because she wanted to make a mark with her first case in Canterbury by returning Lucy unharmed to her mother.
27
The following morning, Roger Grieves arrived promptly and was shown to Interview Room 1, where the two detectives joined him. Ed introduced herself and Mike before explaining they were trying to eliminate people from their inquiries.
‘I understand perfectly, Detective Sergeant, and I’m very happy to be here. I regard it as a civic duty to help the police with their inquiries. Before you ask I should say I knew all three of the students, but Teresa and Lucy more so than Kimberley Hibben. As Head of the Sixth Form, I spend more time with the AS- and A-level students. Kimberley’s talents were vocational and she left at the end of Year 11.’
‘Thank you for that clarification. Now, what can you tell us about Teresa Mulholland and Lucy Naylor?’
‘Ten years apart of course, but they are very similar young women, not physically but as people. Both are very determined and motivated to serve others. Unfortunately, Teresa’s disappearance disrupted her A levels. Fortunately, Lucy had completed her exams before she went missing. I very much hope that, like Teresa and Kimberley, Lucy will be found safe and well.’
‘We all do, Mr Grieves, we all do. My colleagues and I are working to achieve that outcome.’
There was a pause during which Grieves glanced at Mike and then around the room. Ed waited until his eyes returned to her face.
‘Where were you on the evening of Friday, 15 June this year?’
‘I’m afraid I can’t say exactly, 15 June was the week before last. However, in general terms I can give you an accurate picture.’
Ed checked that Mike was ready to take notes.
‘I live alone, Detective Sergeant, and my Friday evenings are very similar. It’s the end of the week and I relax at home watching television, but mid-evening every Friday I take the car and pick up a takeaway.’
‘And where did you go on Friday the 15th?’
‘I’m sorry but that’s the problem – I simply can’t remember. However, I am a creature of habit, it’s either Chinese, fish and chips, Indian or a pizza, and I always go to the same places.’
‘Thank you, Mr Grieves, that’s very helpful. Give the details of your usual takeaway restaurants to DS Potts. There’s a good chance they’ll corroborate your custom.’
As Ed stood to leave the room, Grieves smiled and said, ‘With pleasure, Detective Sergeant, and thank you for being so efficient.’
Brian Saunders was organizing his move to Maidstone and Ed was officially leading the investigation. Sitting at her desk in the CID Room she was aware enthusiasm had slumped. It was now 13 days since Lucy went missing and back copies of The Chronicle had revealed nothing they didn’t already know. The Mulholland case had not been extensively covered at the time so everything of significance had been included in the paper’s recent article. Mike had failed to find a record in police files and Saunders confirmed he’d heard nothing about the case. Extensive questioning of Lucy’s family and friends hadn’t uncovered a single lead. They needed other lines of inquiry.
Ed pushed back her chair, sat on the edge of her desk and called for attention.
‘Time to move on in our search for suspects. At the school yesterday Mike and I assumed we’re looking for a man who abducted all three girls. We concentrated on male teachers who were at the school by January 2002.’
‘Why cover Teresa Mulholland? That was way back. We don’t know it was the same perpetrator.’
‘That’s true, Jenny,’ said Ed, ‘but we’ve almost as much reason to include Teresa as we have to include Kimberley. Both girls were abducted in similar circumstances and returned unconscious but unhurt to a place where they’d be readily found.’
‘What about the support staff?’ asked Jenny.
Mike coughed and said, ‘Only the caretaker’s been at the school that long.’
Ed interrupted him, handing round files.
‘Mike’s put photographs, names and a summary of what we got in these files. The good news is that only five staff met our criteria for potential suspects: Tomasz Podzansky, the caretaker; Stephan Anders, who takes maths; Alex Carlton, art; Roger Grieves, biology; and a games master, Ray Leaman.’
‘Now for the bad news,’ said Mike. ‘So far, not one of them has a corroborated alibi for the time Lucy was abducted.’ He began flipping pages in his notebook.
Ed stepped in. ‘Podzansky, the caretaker, says he was alone, fishing at Stour Lake on Friday, 15 June, the night Lucy was abducted. His father, the son of a Polish Battle of Britain pilot, married a girl from Margate and then walked out leaving her alone with young Tomasz.’
Mike had found the place in his notebook. Ed nodded for him to continue.
‘Stephan Anders, maths, said he was at home nursing a headache. Maxine, his wife, was out with her girlfriends and returned after midnight. So Stephan was alone all evening. As was Grieves, the biologist, first at home, then he took his car out to pick up a takeaway.’
‘Didn’t someone see him?’ asked Nat, his pen poised over a notepad.
‘If only,’ Mike sighed, betraying his frustration. ‘Grieves couldn’t even remember which restaurant he went to on Friday 15th but he did give us a list of the places he uses. We’ll check to see if anyone remembers him.’
‘We could,’ agreed Jenny, ‘but it’ll not be much use if it falls into the middle of the evening when Lucy was in Debbie’s house.’
Another one up to Jenny, thought Ed as she took over.
‘Alex Carlton, art, was out for a long training run; he does marathons. His wife Penny can’t vouch for his return because she was already in bed. They sleep in separate rooms.’
‘Poor woman, I feel sorry for her.’ Mike’s voice was tinged with genuine emotion.
Ed glanced at her colleague. ‘Why do you say that?’
‘Front page of The Chronicle in the summer of 2000. Penny Carlton went to a race meeting at Brands Hatch with her brother. Driving back to Canterbury he lost control of his motorbike. Penny was thrown off and the tarmac removed the left side of her face.’
Jenny gasped.
Ed’s hand moved involuntarily to her cheek. ‘What a terrible thing to happen.’
‘I’ve always thought so …’ Mike allowed the moment to pass before continuing. ‘That leaves Leaman, one of the games masters. Friday, 15 June, Ray dropped into the rugby club but he circulated from group to group and said nobody would be able to corroborate his movements for the entire evening.’
Ed took over again. ‘Basically, none of the five has a good alibi. However, when we were looking at their files we found something of interest. Both Carlton and Anders were absent for the same two-week period in May 1999 with no explanation given. Mike, you said you remembered something from that time.’
‘They weren’t involved in anything I worked on but there were rumours, something involving local bigwigs.’
‘What did they say when you questioned them?’ asked Nat, still with pen in hand.
‘We didn’t ask them,’ said Ed. ‘I wanted to know a bit more first. The Head claims she knew nothing about it. She didn’t join the school until September 2007 but, if she’s as smart as I think she is, she’ll have combed the staff files.’
Jenny looked up questioningly, about to speak, but Ed continued.
‘Of course, we’ll follow this up. Mike will do police files and I’ll check the County Education Authority in Maidstone.’
Jenny nodded, her question answered.
‘Right, we’ve five suspects but no clear motive and no clear evidence of opportunity. I propose we split them.’ Ed paused. ‘Mike, Grieves and Leaman, what’s your opinion of those two? You said Leaman took your son for rugby; what about Grieves?’
‘They both taught my kids at one time or another. They’re both bachelors and live alone. Ray Leaman’s very outgoing, likes nothing better than an evening with mates in a bar. As a teacher, I thought he was coasting. If you’ve played sport you can wing it as a sports master. Grieves is inclined to keep himself to himself, but he’s a dedicated teacher, a real professional. In the days when science pupils went on field trips he organized them and drove the school minibus. Health and safety issues put paid to that but since the field trips stopped he’s shown his community-mindedness in another direction. For the last four years or so, he’s been a volunteer at the hospital.’
‘I was thinking more of Grieves and Leaman as suspects for the abductions,’ said Ed. She resisted looking at her young DCs, but sensed Jenny was fighting to keep a straight face while Nat was openly smiling.
‘I don’t think Leaman would be organized enough for these abductions. Organization wouldn’t be a problem for Grieves. As I said, he ran the science field trips for years. Which reminds me, girls went on those trips and there was never a hint of scandal.’
‘Okay, Mike, see what else you can dig up on those two. Meanwhile, I’ll take Podzansky. Nat, you take Anders, and Jenny, Carlton.’
Ed slipped off her desk and stood facing the team.
‘It’s a fortnight since Lucy went missing. We don’t know who’s taken her or where she is. Her distraught parents are depending on us to find her. Let’s get to it.’
28
At the building in the woods, he knocked firmly at the door, opened it, and slipped the reed into his mouth.
‘I’m back and coming in.’ There was no response. Without thinking he called out, ‘Lucy! Are you all right?’ To his relief, she replied.
‘It’s your funny voice and my music. I told you last time, I can’t hear you.’
He took the hood from behind the door, pulled it over his head, and walked in to find Lucy on the bed with the headphones pushed away from one ear.
‘How did you know my name was Lucy?’
For a moment he panicked; that was a bad slip. He replied more in hope than in knowledge. ‘It was on your purse.’
‘I’m not a little girl, I don’t write my name on my purse.’
‘I meant in your purse.’ Surely it was there? He was almost certain he’d seen it on a library card. ‘It was in your purse on a card.’
‘You’ve been going through my things!’
She sounded indignant. He took this as another good sign. If this small intrusion seemed so outrageous she’d clearly accepted her current captivity as something beyond her control and resolved to endure her imprisonment. She hadn’t queried that her name was in her purse so he diverted her with a reward.
‘Time for some exercise. Come here so I can unlock the handcuff. You can keep it off while I get supper. I’ll trust you to put it back on and let me lock it after you’ve eaten.’
After supper she obediently came back to the slot, put the handcuff around her wrist and allowed him to lock it. By the time he’d finished cleaning up she was on the bed listening to music. He went to his private room and stared blindly at his collection. Putting the sedative in her drink was necessary and it would be kinder in the long run. She might wake with a muzzy head but she’d have no memory of what happened to her. That would be a blessing. If only something had blocked his childhood memories he wouldn’t be here now.
His collection had been different then. Moving from care home to care home it had been the one constant in a changing world. When he found his sister, 27 years after they’d been separated, he discovered Reena had become just like their mother – wanton. Three years later he’d traced their mother to the caravan site. The day he’d gone to see her, for the first time since she’d left him alone, remained as vivid as the days of his childhood. He’d packed a worn canvas shoulder bag with binoculars, waterproof cape, a sandwich and a thermos of tea. In his pocket he’d placed a twitcher’s notebook with a pencil lodged firmly in the spine. After checking his appearance, he was ready to merge with the birders who flocked to Reculver.
The bus arrived at The King Ethelbert just before 10 a.m. Skirting the twin towers of the ruined abbey, he walked to a vantage point overlooking the caravans. Here and there the sun glinted off the polished chrome of a few proud owners. The flight of a seabird caught his eye. To keep up appearances, he made a perfunctory show with the binoculars: a sandwich tern, as common here as house sparrows were in the backyard when he was a child. The moment passed. He settled and waited. Later, in the Ethelbert, he would hear tales of ritual sacrifice, stories of infant skeletons excavated from within the confines of the Roman fort. Others would speak of a crying baby, the sounds of a child abandoned in the ruins of the abbey. He knew that anguish. He’d been abandoned in the ruins of their mother’s life.
Apart from the gulls, it was quiet. He ran his glasses over the rows of caravans and focused on the door of the one which had been their mother’s home since long before he found her. Nobody stirred. Even for a Sunday, the residents of Reculver Caravan Park were slow to rise. He adjusted his position under the hedge and settled to wait. Periodically he made a show of following a bird with the binoculars, but all the time his ears were alert for sounds from the caravan.
Eventually, with a noise of rusty hinges, the door opened and their mother appeared, lank bottle-blonde hair scraped into a short ponytail and her lips an improbable garish slash of red against the pallor of her sleep-puffed face. Ignoring the world, and a chill wind from the North Sea, she began lifting her un-ironed sweatshirt to scratch a breast. The thought of that sight, exacerbated by age, disgusted him. He turned his binoculars away and followed a bird until it disappeared over the cliff edge; yet another sandwich tern.
The hinges squeaked again and an unshaven man shouted an instruction after their mother who was making her way down the path to the local store. Mother! The word had long since lost any trappings of affection. He used it only to define the woman he’d come to despise. The wait while she made her way to the shop and back wasn’t long. She returned with a clear plastic bag in each hand, full of cheap ready meals, cans of lager and bottles of wine, as far as he could tell through his twitcher’s glasses. As she disappeared into the caravan the anger that motivated him returned. Outwardly he still appeared calm but the birdwatcher’s pencil snapped in his hand.
Their mother didn’t deserve him; she didn’t even deserve his sister. He and Reena were the unloved by-products of their mother’s reckless pleasure.
He’d returned many times to observe from beneath the hedge. Whenever he watched there was usually a man. Not always the same man but always a man and drink; there was always drink, bottles and cans but seldom any glasses. Gradually he was able to confront what their mother had been and what she’d become. That knowledge led him to the light. He learned to control his revulsion but the disgust remained to drive his motivation.
It was twelve years ago when he began preparing his mission. Teresa had been the first and then Kimberley but, although everything had gone to plan, ultimately each of the girls had thwarted his goal. There’d been no child for him to treasure from afar. This time he was sure it would be different; with Lucy he would succeed. If not, he had time, there would be other girls.
Whenever he sat under the hedge at Reculver he saw only what their mother had become. The last time she’d abandoned the ponytail. Dark roots were prominent in her unkempt hair. A short skirt had revealed too much of her wasted, varicosed legs. It pained him to know he was flesh of that body. It pained him but it fired his resolve. The sight of her never failed to stoke his motivation.
Deep in thought in his private room, he became aware that there was no sound from beyond the open door. Slipping the reed into his mouth and pulling down the hood, he moved to get a better view through the chain-link partition. The sedative was having its effect; Lucy appeared to be sleeping. Her time had come.
29
Returning from work, Ed was entering the hotel lobby when her personal mobile buzzed. It was an email from Nigel Drakes-Moulton saying he had news about the apartment. She called his office and left a message she’d drop by in ten minutes. Moments later he called back to suggest she meet him in the hotel bar at 7.30. With a smile, she agreed.