by Helen Oliver
Luggage? Akpata wondered if Judi had carried it herself. Or did the caller take it to the car? But which car? Presumably not the broken down affair. (If such a car existed.) Had Judi Fox something to hide? Had she ever intended going to Bath? If not to Bath, then where? And who with? Was Sykes the caller; were they an item again?
Colin Fox said. “You’re quiet, Miss Akpata.”
“I’m sorry, I was thinking.” She took a breath. “Was Judi’s luggage in her room?”
“No,” said Mrs Fox, “she put it ready at the foot of the stairs. A case on wheels and a piece of hand luggage.”
Akpata made a note and looked up. “If I may, I’ll take a look in the garage. Is it an electric door?”
Colin Fox nodded. “My wife will give you the remote.”
*
Carrying two coffees, Cally steadied the tray as her phone rang. Hammond rose quickly to rescue the tray while she glanced at the display. She picked up her pen, tucked her hair behind her ear. “Hi Kylie, how’re you doing?” Five minutes later she stopped scribbling. “Excellent.” She ended the call and waggled her fingers.
Hammond grinned. “I suppose it’s too late to learn shorthand?”
She gave him a look. “I’m not that ancient.”
“So what’s the news?”
“Give the girl a gold star. She’s done some useful digging.”
“In addition to earlier?”
“And some.” She leaned back, hands behind her head. “Unless Judi Fox turns up in Bath – Kylie’s checking the venue – I think it’s safe to assume she’s missing.” She took a breath. “If she didn’t kill Parsons. …There’s a remote possibility she could be with Russell Sykes. If, that is, he was the guy who called on the Foxes late that Tuesday night.”
“How remote?” Hammond said. “And why Sykes?”
“He’d been engaged to Judi.”
“Good God.”
“She dumped him.”
He nudged a mug towards Cally. “And then latched onto Parsons?”
“Or even before.” Skimming through the notes taken from Akpata, Cally said, “Fox’s car was still in her parents’ garage. She’d planned driving solo, presumably to the same convention in Bath as Parsons.”
Hammond clicked the end of his pen. “Unless Sykes had other plans for her?”
Cally said, “Maybe they saw themselves as Bonnie and Clyde.” Her phone vibrated:
Called Bath. Fox didn’t show. K.A.
She showed the text to Hammond. “So now we’re looking for Sykes and Judi Fox.”
“Or Sykes and a body.”
Cally took a gulp of her cooling coffee. “Fox strangling Parsons? Not sure that fits.”
“We don’t know the woman. We can’t discount it.”
“Fox had packed,” Cally said. “Luggage ready in the hallway. Which according to her mother was gone by Wednesday morning.”
Hammond leaned back. “Call on the parents. Do a search.” He brought up headshots on his screen, “Sykes,” he said, “with or without Judi Fox, isn’t the only one.”
Cally moved sideways, peered at Hammond’s computer. “Looking at David Marsh again?”
“He was alive at the time.”
Cally said, “Who else? Alive, I mean.”
“Jez Hemsworth. He’s not a complete outsider.”
Cally said, “Clutching at straws?”
“I don’t think so. Not now we know he stood next to Fox in the fracking photo.”
“That could have been completely arbitrary. Standing next to her doesn’t prove anything.”
“Have we proved anything else so far?”
Cally looked thoughtful. “Kylie called at Victory Villas earlier. Ma Hemsworth didn’t know where her son was.”
Hammond grinned, pushed back his chair. “On my way,” he said, “she’ll love it when I turn up.” He paused at the door. “Convene later? Will you have time for a cuppa round the corner?”
Cally felt at her feet for her bag, dropped her pen in it. “I’d like to, honestly, but if I fit the Foxes in…”
He nodded. “Okay. Talk in the morning.”
29
Cally said, “Mrs Fox?”
The woman’s face was red and swollen. “Yes.”
“I’m Detective Sergeant Cally Burns.” She paused for a second, “May I come in?”
Kate Fox, for whom everything looked like an uphill struggle, stood back. “We’ll go into the living room. My husband said if anyone else came, he’d want to talk to them.” She lowered her voice. “He’s taking this very badly. We both are. He used to be the strong one, but he’s not been too well lately. We thought a little holiday might do him good.” Tears seeped into the lines beneath her eyes. “If we hadn’t gone, all this might never have happened.” Her look begged for help. “Judi’s car is still in the garage - so where do you think she is?”
Cally said, “This is what we have to find out, Mrs Fox.”
Entering the living room Kate Fox said, “Colin, this is…” Forgetting, she gave her head a little shake.
Cally said quietly, “Detective Sergeant Burns, Mr Fox,” and sat on the sofa opposite him, notebook on her lap. She looked at the elderly couple, his face set in troughs of pain, hers alternately reflecting despair and remnants of hope. “I need to search your daughter’s bedroom. I’m afraid I didn’t stop for a warrant. Have I your permission to go ahead?”
Colin Fox said, “Anything, please, to bring us nearer to finding out what’s happened to Judi.”
His wife asked, “What would you expect to find?”
“It’s more a question of spotting something we wouldn’t expect to find.”
Mrs Fox frowned. “You mean a jarring note.”
“I couldn’t put it better.”
Mr Fox cleared his throat. “Your colleague appeared very interested, even surprised, when we told her Judi had been engaged to Russell Sykes. Does that seem odd to you? Personally, I always liked the way he…”
Cally waited, but he didn’t go on. “Not odd,” she said. “If DC Akpata showed any surprise it was probably because we do know of Russell Sykes.”
Mr Fox asked, “You know of him. But do you know him?”
“As a matter of fact, we don’t.” She paused. “But we’re hoping for information that will lead us to him. No one has seen him recently.”
“Is he a murder suspect?”
Kate Fox looked horrified. “Colin.” She turned to Cally. “We’ve not been reading the papers, and our friends in Sussex don’t bother with TV.”
Cally said quickly, “We need to eliminate him from our enquiries.” Addressing Mrs Fox, she said. “Presumably you knew Mr Sykes pretty well.”
She nodded. “He was mad about Judi.”
“But then she broke off the engagement?”
Mr Fox said, “We weren’t expecting that, not for one moment. It was a shock.”
Kate Fox’s voice faltered. “She seemed happier when she’d made up her mind to finish it.”
Cally asked, “Did you think she realized she’d made a mistake, right from the start?”
Mr Fox set his cup down. “That’s exactly what I thought.” He looked across at his wife. “Though you didn’t, did you Kate?”
“Not really.”
“No, because you were relieved she was getting married.” He sighed. “Like Zena.”
Cally said, “I believe DC Akpata met Zena this morning.” Kate Fox nodded, and Cally added, “You said Judi seemed happier lately. Do either, or both of you, think she met someone else?”
Mrs Fox said, “I did wonder, but then again she didn’t mention anyone.”
Cally said, “Did Judi know any of Mrs Parsons’s family? Her son, James, perhaps?”
“As a matter of fact,” Colin fox said, “Judi did mention James, but only in passing. He and his father were planning to buy apartments in Spain.”
Cally raised her eyebrows. “Really?”
Mrs Fox said, “It appealed to Judi, the i
dea of flying to Spain every so often.”
“Did you think this was making her happier?”
Colin Fox said, “You mean ‘castles in Spain’, or someone with more in the bank than Russell Sykes?”
Cally met his shrewd eye. “I suppose either. Or both.”
Kate Fox said, “I don’t think Judi ever actually met James Parsons.” She hesitated, continued to look at Cally. “Do you know him?”
“I saw him at his mother’s funeral.”
The Foxes glanced at each other. Kate said, “Terrible thing.”
Cally said, “D’you mind if I pop into the garden? I need to make a phone call.”
Kate Fox said, “Please, go ahead. I’m afraid it’s not as tidy as it was when Russell was here.”
*
Hammond’s phone buzzed. Cally on the display. “Hi,” he said, “how are things?”
“Difficult time at the Foxes. Nugget of info, though. Philip and James Parsons are buying apartments in Spain.”
Hammond said. “Wonder where the cash is coming from.”
Cally asked. “Where are you up to”?
“I got delayed, but I’m off any minute to see Ma Hemsworth.”
*
Why weren’t the dogs barking? Christ’s sake, thought Hammond, be thankful for small mercies. He lifted the knocker and waited: pictured her swaying along the hallway. And here she was, pulling open the door, smiling, exuding alcoholic fumes. “Good afternoon, Mrs Hemsworth.” Stepping back to avoid the cigarette ash she flicked onto the step, he said, “I didn’t have you down as a smoker.”
She took a lung-filling drag. “Well, you know what they say, you learn summat new every day.”
He gave a wry smile. “That’s true.”
“Ooh,” she said, “I hope you’ll forgive me for saying – seeing as how you forced me down the nick – but you’ve got beautiful teeth. Are they your own?” She waved her cigarette in the air. “I’ve given up God knows how many times, but with what’s been going on lately, I’ve been driven to it.”
Hammond sighed. “Are you going to let me in?”
“I might, I might not.”
“Stop being silly, Mrs H.”
“Ooh,” she said, “You make that sound right nice.” She half closed her eyes. “Mrs Haitch,” she said softly, “say it again.”
Hammond risked a step nearer. “Taken to the sauce, have we?”
“Wouldn’t you?”
Quite possibly.
Hemsworth turned round, walked into the hallway. “You’d best come in,” she said. “Anyway, he’s back.” She walked unsteadily into the kitchen and made for the back door. “Police!”
Coming in from the garden, Jez Hemsworth chucked empty dog food cans into an overflowing waste bin. Two fell onto the floor and he bent to pick them up. “That’ll have shut ’em up for five minutes.”
Hammond looked around the kitchen. Two things: (a) the kitchen table no longer had three chairs wedged round it (b) a thumbed copy of the Browbridge Herald lay on it. He turned to Hemsworth. “No cup of tea today? I seem to remember you make a good cuppa, when you’re not beating up innocent citizens.”
“Innocent?” she said. “That lousy bit ’o shit?”
While Jez filled the kettle and lit the gas, Hammond pulled out a chair and sat down. “Right, Jez, we know who she is, the young woman next to you in the fracking photo.”
Jez turned round. “What fucking fracking photo?”
Martina Hemsworth bent double laughing. “Did you ’ear that Mr ’Ammond? And ’im sober as a judge!”
Jez slapped tea bags into the pot and poured in boiling water. “What photo?”
Hammond opened the Herald, swivelled the paper round and pushed it across the table. “There you go. A fracking demo, and you looking very smart.”
Jez shrugged. “So?”
“Look who’s standing next to you. At the end of the line.”
Jez scratched his head. “Yeah?”
“Who is she?”
“I dunno.”
His mother took mugs from a shelf, nearly dropped one, then reached down to fetch milk from the fridge. “What you tryin’ to frame ’im for this time?”
“I’m simply asking a question.” He paused. “You don’t know who she is?”
Mouth turned down, Jez shook his head.
Hammond said, “I’ll tell you, shall I?”
Jez said, “Go on, then.”
“Her name is Judi Fox.”
Mrs Hemsworth poured the tea. “Never ’eard of her,” she said, and put a mug on the table for Hammond.
Wouldn’t it be easy, he thought, to believe them. Cross Jez off the list. Watch the pile on his desk shrink a bit. “Had you ever seen Judi Fox before the day of the demo?”
“Don’t think so. She might of stood beside me because the photographer told her to. They like arranging folk. Anyway,” he said, “what’s she to you?” He laughed. “Like you’re gonna tell me.” He shrugged. “I’m sorry I’ve got nowt else to tell you about the night I were at Catch. We had no publicity to speak of. …Reckon broiler house owner’s ’and in glove wi’ bloke who runs th’Herald.”
Hammond took a gulp of tea. The guilty, he thought, wouldn’t have added all that Catch stuff. They’d let things lie. The innocent jabber on about anything and everything. On the other hand, Jez Hemsworth might be more of a clever sod than he looked. Hammond put his mug down. “How are you doing?”
Jez looked surprised. “You mean me?”
Hammond said, “I’m not talking about your mum – I can see how she’s doing, knocking nails into her coffin.”
Martina Hemsworth grabbed the edge of sink. “I’d be as fit as a flea if you lot’d get off me back.” She straightened up. “My Jez is doing as well as can be expected, considering what he’s been through.”
Hammond said, “Sure,” rose and put his mug on the draining board. “Now then, pleasant as it is, passing the time of day over afternoon tea, it’s time I wasn’t here.”
Jez followed him to the front door, looked round to see his mother wasn’t earwigging. “You got anyone yet? For Mrs Parsons?”
Hammond pulled the door open. “Watch this space.”
“You offering a reward?”
“You thinking of claiming?”
Jez sighed. “Nah. Just thought I’d ask.”
*
In from the garden at Dunedin, Cally put her phone away and headed for the living room. “What a lovely garden; plenty of stuff for the bees,” she said. And continued gently, “Mrs Fox, would you mind pointing me to Judi’s room?”
Kate Fox stood up. “I’ll come up with you.”
It didn’t surprise Cally that the woman made heavy weather of the stairs; she must be worn out. They stood for a moment before Kate Fox turned the handle of a door next to the bathroom. “We’ve three bedrooms,” she said, and pushed the door open.
Cally asked, “Has anyone been in here, touched anything since you came home yesterday?”
“Colin and I have. Then Zena came across.”
“Zena’s been here?”
“Yes. Does it matter?”
“I’m sure it doesn’t.
Mrs Fox’s voice faltered. “You don’t think –?”
Cally touched her arm. “I’m not thinking anything, I’m just trying to piece things together. To help us find out why Judi didn’t go to Bath.”
“Are you sure she didn’t arrive?”
Their eyes met. “We know she didn’t go to the convention.”
Cally took in the room: the neatly made bed, the matching Laura Ashley duvet cover, curtains and blind. The wardrobe and chest of drawers. A small Victorian chair in front of a more modern dressing table. She turned to Mrs Fox. “Your daughter’s toiletries, wash flannel and so on. Her make-up.” She paused. “She wears make-up?”
“Oh yes, she’s a dab hand at it.”
“Does she usually sit at her dressing table to put it on?”
“She uses the
bathroom mirror. There’s more light.”
Cally said, “May I see the bathroom?”
They left the bedroom and went into the house bathroom. Had Mrs Fox, or perhaps Zena, moved anything? Cally pointed to items on a tiled shelf rising up from the hand wash-basin. “Are those yours, Mrs Fox?”
“Not all of them. Just the cleansing milk and moisturizer.”
“The rest are Judi’s?”
“Yes.” She frowned. “Something I’ve just remembered. Whenever she goes away, she takes small amounts of face cream and so on. She leaves the heavier jars behind. The ones you can see here.”
Cally said, “So that evening…” she hesitated, getting things straight in her head, “she might have taken her make-up off in here, using her everyday pots or jars.” She paused. “Where does she keep her daytime make-up? Foundation, lipstick and the rest?”
Kate Fox leaned across to a small cupboard beside the hand wash-basin. “In here.” She and Cally looked at the make up. Waiting to be used.
Both were silent for a moment. Until Cally asked, “Have you a recent photograph of Judi?”
Tears caught in Kate Fox’s throat. “Downstairs. I’ll let you have it.”
“Before we go down, I’d like to look in the other bedrooms.” She paused. “Oh – and have you a loft ladder?” At the woman’s alarmed look, she said, “Bear with me, Mrs Fox, I’ll get a black mark if I don’t follow procedure – it’s the bane of our lives.” She looked along the landing. “Can we start with the master bedroom?”
Mrs Fox pushed the door to the twin-bedded room at the front of the house, and waited while Cally opened and closed wardrobe doors. “Thank you. Now the spare bedroom?”
Mrs Fox led the way, and Cally checked the wardrobe with its empty hangers for guests.
Reaching into a corner of the room Mrs Fox handed her a pole with a hook on the end. “This opens the loft door.”
Cally thanked her and looked out of the window. “Is that your garden shed?”
Mrs Fox joined her. “Yes. My word, that hedge is terribly overgrown. It was never like that when Russell was here.”
Cally waited a moment. “Do you know if Judi had seen him recently?”
“Not as far as I know.”
Out on the landing again, Cally pulled down the loft ladder, climbed up, switched on a light at the top and crawled onto the boarded floor of the tidiest loft she’d ever seen: completely bare except for a large metal trunk. She stood up and lifted the lid. Never quite prepared for what she might find – bearing in mind Otley and the body parts – she narrowed her eyes for a second before noting the military uniforms. She switched off the light, stepped onto the ladder and climbed down. She heaved it back up, took a breath and said, “I’m almost done except for another quick look in Judi’s room.” Mrs Fox followed her back into the bedroom, where Cally said, “Did you sit on the bed when Zena was here?” Kate Fox nodded and Cally said, “Then have a little rest while I make sure I’ve taken everything in.”