Kitabı oku: «Tick Tock», sayfa 3
SIX
After talking to Perry about what to say to the Piggott sisters, Grace rejoined Nick and they left the school. She then spent an uncomfortable few minutes speaking to Lauren Ansell’s father on the phone.
‘That wasn’t nice,’ she said after disconnecting the call. ‘The local police had already informed him. I could hear him crying, taking deep breaths to calm himself.’
‘What did he say?’
‘He passed the phone to a police sergeant. A Mick Attwood – he told me Mr Ansell was in a meeting at the time of the attack and for most of the morning, too. So we can rule him out; although living so far away, he’d hardly be a suspect anyway. What a way to learn your only child’s been murdered.’
‘I’m glad Nathan Stiller’s phone call to our victim’s mother went through to her voicemail,’ Grace added as they travelled along the D road towards Newcastle. ‘I hate the thought of an accident happening as relatives rush to wherever they need to be in a state of disbelief. I’ve seen it too many times, and I get that they’re questioning what they’ve been told because they want it to be untrue, but even so.’
‘I’ll need to get ready for the press conference,’ Nick said. ‘I’ll be giving a statement at four p.m. to camera. I’m not sure whether to do it outside the school gates or up in the quiet of the lane.’
‘I think you know the answer to that one.’ Grace knew that press wouldn’t be allowed anywhere near the lane, even if the field was a good five-minute walk from the general public. ‘Although for the viewing figures, they’ll want the cameras accessing as much as they can. Funny how they say that’s so the general public might be of more use, spot more, give us a lead. It’s always for their advantage, really.’
‘I hope some of them don’t try to go in to the field via the other entrance.’
‘All covered,’ Grace told him. ‘The search team are there, too. No one will get through. It does seem a bit audacious, though.’
‘Go on.’ Nick kept his eyes on the road.
‘Well, most murders are associated with dark alleys late at night. There’s something sinister about how out in the open this one is. It was bold, daring, and it had to be quick with so many chances of being caught.’
‘Meaning?’
‘Meaning we may not have a lot to go on unless anyone saw it happen. Which is both likely given the crime took place in broad daylight, but unlikely given how big the space is.’
Nick nodded his reply.
Twenty minutes later, he drew into the tiny car park at the front of a row of new-build offices. Mintons Solicitors was in the second shop from the right, alongside a hairdresser’s, a sandwich bar and several vacant spaces.
‘I hope she hasn’t had time to answer her calls yet,’ Grace said as they walked into an airy reception room and across to a desk with two women behind it. ‘Even though I dislike doing this, it’s much better for the family.’
The receptionist made a phone call and less than a minute later, a woman came out of a side door. Grace and Nick glanced at each other surreptitiously. She had the same looks and build as their victim.
It was clear from the laughter following her that she didn’t know what had happened. The smile dropped from her face as Nick held up his warrant card. Grace followed suit.
‘Mrs Emma Gillespie? I’m DI Carter and this is DS Allendale. May we speak to you for a moment, somewhere in private?’
‘Something’s happened, hasn’t it?’ Emma’s hand clutched her chest at the same time as she moved aside for them to pass. ‘Is it Alan? Lauren? Are they okay?’
She opened the door to a vacant side office and they all went inside. Grace steered her towards a chair, pointedly looking at it until Emma sat down.
‘Is this your daughter, Lauren?’ Nick showed Mrs Gillespie a photo that had been printed off from the school computer.
‘Yes.’ Worried blue eyes flicked from one to the other.
Grace pulled a chair over and took Mrs Gillespie’s hands in her own as Nick began to speak.
‘I’m afraid we have some very bad news,’ he started. ‘This morning, the body of a young girl was found on a field near to Dunwood Academy. We have reason to believe that person is Lauren. I’m so sorry to tell you that she’s been killed.’
‘Lauren?’ Emma shook her head. ‘No, she’s at school. I dropped her there myself this morning.’ She looked at Nick for confirmation. ‘There must be a mistake. It can’t be her.’
‘I know there’s a lot to take in, Mrs Gillespie. We’ll ask you to make a formal identification of the body, later this evening or tomorrow, if you’re able.’
‘No, this can’t be right.’ Emma shook her head in denial. ‘What happened to her?’
‘We’re treating Lauren’s death as suspicious,’ Nick said. ‘We believe the injuries she’d sustained were caused by someone else.’
‘What do you mean?’
Grace watched as the first few tears began to trickle down Mrs Gillespie’s face, the news finally beginning to sink in. When she turned towards Grace, willing her to say that Nick had got it all wrong, it almost broke Grace’s heart.
Emma crumpled and began wailing loudly. ‘Where is she?’ she managed between gasps.
‘She’s still at the crime scene. We have officers—’
‘The field!’ Emma’s voice grew hard. ‘You’ve left my daughter lying dead in a field!’
Grace could see she needed someone to blame, but Nick explained what he could of the situation amid her gasps of disbelief.
‘I dropped her off at school! She should have been safe.’ Emma stood up. ‘I want to see her.’
‘You can.’ Nick nodded. ‘Once she’s away from the crime scene.’
‘No, I want to see her now.’
‘I’m sorry.’ Nick’s tone was insistent.
Emma gasped. ‘Please tell me she wasn’t raped.’
‘We don’t think so.’ As she began to cry again, Nick continued, ‘Is there anyone we can call for you? You mentioned Alan.’
‘He’s my husband. Lauren’s father Richard needs to know, too. We’re divorced.’ She looked at Grace.
‘We informed him on our way to see you,’ she said. ‘We’re here to do as much as we can. Later, there will be a family liaison officer to help.’
Emma gave another loud sob. ‘Please. It can’t be her,’ she cried. ‘Not my Lauren.’
As Grace left the room to inform Mrs Gillespie’s colleagues that she’d be leaving with them, she wondered how she would have coped if it were her daughter. Lauren was an only child. It meant their family had been wiped out in one hit. It was beyond cruel. But then when had a murderer ever been bothered with that?
As she explained what had happened to the receptionist, watching her go to pieces too, Grace realised that keeping this under wraps was going to be hard. There were already so many people who knew what had happened. But even if there had been no official identification, everyone knew they had the right person.
Lauren Ansell had been strangled and Grace was going to find out who had done it.
SEVEN
She stood in her tiny kitchen looking out of the window. There were three boys playing football on the green down in front of her, two jumpers on the grass to mark the goal. Their shouts didn’t bother her, but she’d only give them a few more minutes before someone came out and moved them on. She remembered that feeling well – a sense of no one wanting you around, not fitting in anywhere but having nowhere else to go.
The flat she was in was her fifth rental since she’d left home at sixteen, and it felt right. It was a maisonette really, upstairs in a block of four. Two up and two down, with tiny shared gardens back and front, and her own front door at the side. This had been one of the better places she’d stayed in over the years. The wallpaper wasn’t peeling from the walls. The carpets didn’t stick to her feet – hell, even having carpets had been a bonus. The furnishing wasn’t too old-fashioned and there was no scratching as a result of bed bugs in the mattress.
The tenant downstairs was Arnie Jerold. He was in his eighties and apart from having his TV on full blast most evenings, she had no complaints. Arnie also looked after the garden and didn’t mind sharing it with her.
Last summer, she’d drunk many a glass of something cold with him as well, to pass the time. She liked him and the tales he told her of his family. He didn’t have many visitors, but his two sons came once a fortnight and for that he was grateful. They took him out for Sunday lunch with the family. It was enough, he’d tell her.
He’d asked about her life and she’d told him all of it, knowing he wouldn’t believe her. He’d smirked and she’d laughed, and then she’d told him a whole bunch of lies about a happier, made-up life. Arnie seemed to like her but he only saw the woman that she wanted him to see and not who she really was.
After the boys on the green had scored five goals, she poured another glass of wine, congratulating herself on fooling people again. She was so good at it now – a player, she liked to call herself. So far, everything was working out to plan – even better, actually. She’d chosen him well and he was like putty in her hands. He was turning into a great disciple. It had taken time to find him, but after several aborted attempts she had found the right one.
She remembered a few of the men she had tried to lure into her game. Trevor Wilde had lived up to his name, been willing to do a lot with her sexually, but after she’d tried to asphyxiate him once, she’d never seen him again. He’d turned white and practically ran out of the flat, even though she had told him what she was about to do and he’d agreed.
Then there was Lester Baker. Now, he was really weird and she hadn’t liked him at all, but had gone through with everything in case he was the one. In the end, he’d turned out not to be.
But this one? He had stayed the test of time. She’d been able to mould him, manipulate him into what she wanted. So far, so good. And her man had been pleased, too.
She logged onto the website with anticipation. She had found ‘All Talk’ three years ago and it had been perfect for her to recruit from. It was a website for people who wanted more sex in their lives by fantasising and talking about it online.
She’d lurked in the background while she got to know who to concentrate on. She’d read comments before joining in with the better conversations. Then after a while she’d been invited into some of the secret forums and message boards, where eventually she’d been able to plant seeds of her own.
She wondered if it was too late in the day to chat to WildWoman73. And she doubted NightRider24 would be online now. Timing was out for both of them.
But there would be others online, she was sure.
EIGHT
Perry made his way to the headmaster’s office. The quiet corridor reminded him of how many times he’d done that as a teenager in between lessons. He’d often been a nuisance at school, wanting to be one of the popular kids and mixing with the troublemakers. Luckily for him, he’d left them all behind at the gates on his leaving day and had gone to college.
Although he’d never told anyone back then, he’d been caught with a stolen bicycle and received a caution from a man who’d inspired him to do something with his life before it was too late. From that moment on, he’d wanted to join the police. The job suited him, even if he did have to investigate and see some dark things. At least he had a chance to make a difference. Lots of his school friends were either out of work or in prison.
In the headmaster’s office, Perry asked Stiller where he would find the girls.
‘I’ll fetch them for you. You can use my office. My classroom’s being used by some of your officers now.’
Perry nodded his thanks. As he waited, he looked around. There was a small table that they could sit at. Perry was glad: at least it wouldn’t feel as formal as sitting across the headmaster’s desk.
Nathan led the girls into the room, looks of fear shooting between them. They had clearly been crying, both of them bunching tissues in their hands. As soon as Perry looked at them, one of them started again. The other wrapped her arms around her sister for comfort.
Procedurally, he wasn’t supposed to interview them together. He needed to speak to them one by one. They were the last people to see their victim alive. For all he knew, it could have been one of them and the other was covering. It was hard to imagine, but not impossible.
As well, he knew the longer they stayed together, the more they could get their story straight if they were lying. However, he could also see how upset they were and it probably would be more distressing to split them up right now.
As this was a preliminary talk before they were questioned with their parents present, he decided to keep them together and play good cop. Only time would tell if his plan would work but, similarly, he was sure he’d know if they were lying. He decided to chance it and continue.
‘Girls, I’m sorry for your loss.’ Perry pointed to the table. ‘But as you know, it’s important that we get as many details as possible about what happened this morning.’
Everyone sat down; Nathan next to him, the girls opposite. Perry smiled, hoping he looked approachable. Both girls would feed off each other and he wanted them to open up.
‘I’m DC Wright – you can call me Perry, if you like.’ His tone was soft. ‘Mr Stiller will stay with us throughout the conversation, so I hope that puts you at ease. Now, I know everything going on around you is a terrible shock, but I wanted to ask you some questions. Is that okay?’
Both girls nodded, one wiping away tears that had fallen.
‘Before we start, do you want to ask me anything?’ Perry smiled again. ‘Actually, first you’d better tell me who is who.’
‘I’m Caitlin,’ the girl on the right said. She pointed to her sister. ‘She’s Courtney.’
The twins were both thin and had long blonde hair, straightened, with a block fringe. Their faces were red and blotchy, black smudges around their eyes from the make-up he presumed they shouldn’t be wearing to school. Both had wide brown eyes and high cheekbones.
Perry started his questioning.
‘Can either of you remember seeing anyone hanging around when you were finishing your run?’
Both girls shook their heads in unison.
‘Not anyone in the distance?’
Heads shook again.
‘Okay,’ Perry said. ‘Sometimes we remember things better at the time of impact, but often we can recall details at a later date. If that does happen, you can always let your teacher or Mr Stiller know and they will contact me. Okay?’
It was getting tedious as they nodded again. But Perry reasoned they’d had a terrible shock, losing a friend. The whole class would be affected, let alone those closest to Lauren Ansell. Some of them would be feeling guilty because they’d got away.
‘Is there anything you can tell me about Lauren?’ Perry said next. ‘Something you might want to talk to me about. Or ask me?’
Silence greeted him again. Perry kept his eyes on them, hoping they would talk to him, but neither of them obliged.
‘Does she have a boyfriend?’ he tried.
‘She’s been seeing Thomas Riley,’ Caitlin told him.
Perry made a note in his pad before looking up again. What he saw were two terrified faces.
‘Look,’ he said. ‘I have to find out as much as I can about Lauren. If there are any rumours about her, we need to know. I’ll be speaking to Thomas later, but is there anything else? Was she having problems with anyone?’
‘She didn’t like her step-dad much,’ Caitlin said.
‘Did she tell you this?’ Perry asked.
Caitlin nodded. ‘She was always saying he was rude to her, begrudged her being around as he wanted to spend time with her mum on his own.’
‘Did you visit Lauren at home?’
They both nodded.
‘Did you get the feeling he didn’t like her?’
Caitlin shrugged. ‘I’m not sure I noticed either way.’
‘Could Lauren have been hiding something? Perhaps feeling people wouldn’t believe her.’
‘We always believed Lauren,’ Courtney spoke this time. ‘And she’d tell us, wouldn’t she, Cait? If anything was bothering her.’
Caitlin nodded fervently.
Perry held in a sigh, annoyed with himself for insinuating that Lauren was keeping something from them. Perhaps he would have been better waiting for their parents to arrive. As silence filled the room again, he sat forwards in readiness to stand.
‘If there’s anything you can think of—’
‘She liked chatting to Jason at the youth club,’ Courtney blurted out.
‘Courtney!’ Caitlin cried. ‘There’s nothing wrong with that.’
‘Well, he flirts with us all.’ Courtney looked at the table for a moment before her eyes came up again. ‘He could easily have run up the lane after us and been hiding.’
‘He wouldn’t do that!’ Caitlin insisted.
Perry raised his hand as they began to babble, but Nathan, who’d stayed quiet until this point, piped in.
‘By Jason, do you mean Mr Tranter?’ When Caitlin nodded, he turned to Perry. ‘Mr Tranter is a teacher here.’
Perry instantly thought back to the previous murder case they had worked on. One of the murdered men had been a lecturer at Staffordshire College and had groomed several of his female students for sex. He hoped this wasn’t going to be a repeat of that. Trying to hide a frown, he made a note to look into Tranter further after the meeting.
‘He gets on well with you all?’ he asked the girls.
Courtney nodded, but she wouldn’t look at Perry. By now, it was clear to him which twin had the most influence over the other.
‘Was Jason friendly with anyone else?’ he asked.
‘He’s friendly with everyone,’ Caitlin said, folding her arms.
Perry paused for a moment. ‘Do you think Lauren had a crush on him?’
‘She was going out with Thomas!’ Courtney cried. ‘She’s not a tart.’
‘And Jason’s lovely,’ Caitlin insisted. ‘He’s supportive and looks out for us all.’
‘Looks out for you, you mean,’ Courtney muttered.
‘No, he looks out for everyone!’ Caitlin repeated.
‘Well, you can’t take your eyes off him and you knew Lauren liked him!’
‘Girls, please!’ Nathan held up a hand.
Perry threw the headmaster a faint smile. These were tactics to stop the twins talking about their friend; perhaps they would be worried about getting into trouble regardless of if they had or hadn’t been involved. It was human nature to stress.
He stood up. He hadn’t come out of the conversation any the wiser and they needed to question them more diligently with another adult besides Nathan. He’d wait to speak to them individually when their parents arrived.
As he left the room, he spotted Simon Cole in the car park. Simon was the senior crime reporter on the local newspaper and, more recently, he and Grace had become an item. He wandered over to him. Perhaps Simon could put something in tonight’s edition of the Stoke News that could warn everyone to stay vigilant for now, but not enough to alarm.
What a thin line to tread.
NINE
Grace was back in Nick’s car. Emma Gillespie had left hers at work and he was driving them to the family home. Grace tried to drown out the sobs of the woman sitting behind her.
In the picturesque village of Stanley, they turned into Puddy Lane. Nick slowed down to pass two riders on horses and then pulled into the garden of a cottage-style dormer bungalow that seemed to have undergone a huge renovation. Benefitting from cream rendering and sage-coloured windows, it looked a quirky place to call home. A terrace at the front overlooked fields, sheep frolicking in the one next to them making Grace envious. She wanted to marvel and say what a lovely place to live, but it wasn’t the time.
A man she assumed to be Alan Gillespie was waiting in the doorway. He ran out of the house as soon as they arrived. Emma fell into his arms and sobbed.
Grace found herself looking away for a moment. Things like this still upset her, making her think of her own loss. As well as losing her mother in 2017, she had been a widow for two years when she’d arrived in Stoke-on-Trent. Her husband, Matt, had been diagnosed with acute myeloid leukaemia in 2013, and although nearly three years had passed since his death in 2016, she was still getting over it. She was still grieving for him, but with her new partner’s help, she’d been healing the gap left behind.
Nick and Grace gave the couple time to comfort each other and then followed them inside. Emma had dropped to her knees at the foot of the stairs. In her arms, she clutched a hooded jumper that had been hanging on a coat hook.
‘She was my baby,’ she sobbed. ‘Why would anyone do that to her?’
‘Let’s get you seated in the living room,’ Alan said, wiping his cheeks. ‘We need to be strong now, give the police as much information as they need to catch the bastard that …’ His voice broke as he helped Emma to her feet.
Once everyone was seated, Nick began to question them.
‘Are you aware of anyone who might have wanted to harm your daughter?’ he asked. ‘Was she having any problems? Maybe her friends, or a boyfriend?’
Emma shook her head. ‘She seemed happy. I don’t think anything was bothering her.’
‘Did she get on with her father?’
‘Yes. She visited him every other Friday and stayed over until Saturday evening. We had quite an amicable split. We’d just grown apart. He’s a good man.’
‘Could we have a look around her room?’ Nick asked eventually after covering everything necessary.
‘She isn’t hiding anything,’ Emma told him. ‘She hasn’t even experimented with drugs, nor had a cigarette.’
‘To our knowledge,’ Alan admitted. ‘She’s a good girl, but like any of us at that age, she could be telling us one thing but doing something completely different.’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ said Emma.
‘Nothing.’ Alan looked sheepish. ‘I’m trying to understand what’s happened. Lauren went to school. She should have been safe there! I want to see the headmaster, demand an enquiry.’
‘All in good time,’ Grace tried to appease him. ‘You need someone to blame – I understand that. But please, you also need to stay strong for each other.’
‘What do you know?’ Emma snapped. ‘You can’t even tell us who killed her!’
‘We’re gathering evidence as quickly as possible.’ Nick nodded at Grace, who took it as her cue to stand up.
‘Her room, Mrs Gillespie?’
‘It’s the second door on the right upstairs,’ she replied. ‘I … I don’t want to go in there just yet.’
Grace shook her head. ‘You don’t have to. I promise I will be careful.’
Lauren Ansell’s bedroom was fitted out in silver, white and purple. Lilac curtains were half open, as if she’d left in a rush that morning, the duvet on the bed pulled back haphazardly. There was a pile of clothes on a chair underneath the window and a stack of shoes by the skirting board. The air was full of the scent of deodorant and perfume.
A lilac laptop stood open on a small desk in front of the window. Slipping on latex gloves, Grace tapped a key to see if the screen would wake up, but it was switched off. She’d take it with her to see if there was anything on there. Social media platforms – Twitter, Facebook, Snapchat, WhatsApp, Instagram – might tell them what they needed. So, too, would Lauren’s phone, which had been found in her school bag. She would set Sam on them both once they were all back at the station.
Next, she went over to a set of drawers. Gently pushing aside the clothing, she rummaged around, checking the tops and bottoms to see if anything had been taped down, but there was nothing.
She skimmed her eyes over the dressing table, inside the make-up bag. She flicked through a pile of magazines and several books, but nothing dropped out.
Across the room, the wardrobe was crammed with clothes fighting for space. Grace rifled through pockets, but there was nothing hidden away there, either.
The final place she looked was under the mattress, for a diary. She’d left it until last because it was the obvious place and as a teenager, she’d hidden hers everywhere but there. Always less risk of someone else discovering it.
There was nothing.
‘What happened to you?’ she whispered.
Standing in the middle of the room, she had a sense that Lauren was a loved and happy teenager. She bet she had the odd row with her parents about pushing boundary lines, but there seemed no obvious signs of neglect. Lauren had a lot of the latest fashion in clothes and accessories; she didn’t seem to want for anything. Grace had a feeling she’d be missed dearly.
Spotting photos around the dressing table mirror, Grace leaned forwards to see. They were mostly of Lauren. A few with her in a group of girls, all of them with long blonde hair. And there was one of Lauren with twins. Grace frowned as she looked closer.
‘She was a popular girl,’ a voice said behind her. ‘I’ve known her since she was six.’
Grace turned to see Alan Gillespie.
‘They were always making a lot of noise.’ He pointed to the photo. ‘They used to come here often. I think Emma let her have a bit more freedom than was necessary.’
‘Indoors?’
‘Yes.’
‘I think that’s much better than giving her freedom outdoors,’ Grace acknowledged. ‘It means she was at least safe, even if you did have to tell her to pipe down every now and then. Do you know the names of these girls?’
He took the photo from her. ‘The twins are Courtney and Caitlin Piggott, although I never know which one is which.’ He pointed to another girl. ‘Sophie – Sophie Bishop. The one at the end is Teagan Cole.’
Grace had already recognised Teagan and knew she was going to be upset. Come to think of it, she might have met Lauren herself, albeit briefly, when she’d given her and Teagan a lift back to Teagan’s house with her father, Simon. Losing a friend at such a young age would leave a gap.
She spotted another photo of Lauren with a boy. She pulled it towards her and the sticky tape on the back of it gave way. Looking closer, she saw he was about the same age as Lauren and wondered if he went to Dunwood Academy, too.
She turned to ask Alan, but he was no longer there. When she could find nothing else, she took the laptop and the photos downstairs.
‘Who’s this with Lauren?’ She held it up so that both parents could see it.
‘Dylan Corden,’ Emma told them. ‘He was a boy she met on holiday in Greece last year. He lives in Leeds.’
‘Was Lauren in contact with him?’
‘Only online. We haven’t seen him or his family since. As far as I know, it was a holiday romance.’
‘Did she still talk about him?’
Alan shook his head. ‘Not since she started dating Tom.’
‘Tom?’
‘Thomas Riley. I haven’t heard her mention Dylan in a long time.’
‘Does Thomas attend Dunwood Academy, too?’
Alan nodded. ‘He’s been here a few times as well. Seemed okay to me – even though you worry about them at that age.’
Grace made a note of his name to check with Perry.
‘May we take these photos?’ she asked. ‘I promise you they will be returned as soon as we’re able.’
‘Take anything you need,’ Emma replied.
‘Do you have a recent one of Lauren, too?’
Grace could see Alan was holding back tears as Emma rummaged around in the sideboard. When she turned back and handed them a photo, her shoulders shook as she cried again.
‘I don’t know who would want to hurt her.’ Emma looked at them both in turn. ‘You have to find out who it was – and why!’
‘We will do everything we can,’ Nick promised.
Once outside the family home and on the way back to the school, Grace turned to Nick.
‘I need to tell you something. There’s a photo of five girls on Lauren’s mirror. One of them is Simon’s daughter, Teagan. I’m letting you know because in no way do I want this brought up later. This won’t be another conflict of interest.’
‘Hey, lighten up,’ Nick replied. ‘It would only become that if she was in a group that had either attacked Lauren or had been injured.’
‘Well, I just wanted to—’
‘Grace, sometimes I’m rather impulsive and I pushed you too far on Operation Wedgwood last year. I did it for my own purposes, as I really wanted to break up the Steele family. I was wrong to put it all on you.’
Grace was shocked. It had taken him six months to say that, and their working relationship had soured because of it. Her predecessor, Allie Shenton, had said Nick was one of the good guys, but until now he had yet to prove it to her. He had pushed her too far, even though they’d caught and charged the killer.
‘I get that you’re worried,’ Nick continued, ‘but I’d say what was more important is that if Lauren is part of a group, then perhaps we need to warn them all to be vigilant. This might be an isolated incident but until we gather more evidence everyone is a suspect, even those twin girls for now. You’re staying on the case, understood?’
‘Understood.’ Grace nodded, glad that was cleared up. She’d wanted to come clean, but there was no way she was going to be under the threat of being removed again.
