Death Comes First

Ten

Felicity Tanner heard an engine start and the sound of a vehicle pulling away. Neither the paved drive nor the gravelled area at the front of the house could be seen from the kitchen window. She glanced enquiringly at her daughter, who stared blankly back at her.

Joyce was not her normal self at the moment. Felicity realized that you could not expect a mother whose child had gone missing to behave in a manner that could, by any standards, be described as normal. However, something had been bothering Joyce even before Fred’s disappearance. And when she’d told Henry, he’d been concerned enough to immediately get on the phone to her. But he hadn’t been surprised. In fact Felicity could have sworn he’d been half expecting it.

‘Joyce?’ she asked. ‘Who was that just leaving? Has the Detective Inspector interviewed your father and Stephen yet? What’s going on?’

Joyce shrugged her shoulders and said nothing. Felicity Tanner was about to question her further when PC Bolton entered the kitchen. Instead she turned her attention to him.

‘I heard a car leave,’ she began.

‘Yes, DI Vogel asked your husband and Mr Hardcastle to accompany him to a police station for a video interview,’ explained PC Bolton.

Felicity looked alarmed.

‘Have they been arrested?’ she asked, her eyes wide with shock.

‘No, they are helping us with our enquiries, that’s all,’ responded Bolton.

‘Please don’t worry,’ interjected PC Saslow. ‘This is routine procedure. As your FLO, I will remain with the family and talk you through anything that is worrying you.’

Joyce looked up. ‘My son is missing, that’s what’s worrying me,’ she snapped.

Dawn Saslow flushed and mumbled an apology.

Felicity felt sorry for the young PC, but even more concerned about her daughter. She tried to put an arm around her. Joyce pulled away.

When Charlie died, Felicity had been the person Joyce turned to for comfort. She wished she could do the same now, and just couldn’t understand why Joyce had been so prickly of late, and why, even now, she was rejecting her parents instead of welcoming their support.

Felicity was also well aware, in spite of PC Saslow’s bland reassurances, of the significance of asking someone to attend a police station instead of interviewing them at home. She read crime novels and watched detective series on TV. They were her diversion from real life, particularly on the days when Henry’s perpetual lack of communication got her down. Which it frequently did, though she was careful never to let on.

She had taken Henry aside that morning, when he’d arrived at their daughter’s house after being told that Fred had disappeared.

‘I know something’s going on,’ she’d told him. ‘Both you and Joyce have been behaving peculiarly the last few days. What is it, Henry? What’s happened?’

Henry had given his standard blandly reassuring and yet non-communicative response: ‘Nothing’s happened, Felicity. You’re imagining things. Please, don’t upset yourself.’

Undeterred, Felicity tried a different tack: ‘Henry, I want you to promise that you know of nothing that could have led to Fred going missing,’ she said. ‘Will you do that? Can you promise me that?’

‘Felicity, have you taken leave of your senses?’ Henry countered. ‘What sort of question is that?’

‘Promise me,’ Felicity persisted.

‘I promise you,’ replied Henry, a note of irritation apparent in his normally implacable manner. ‘I’m hurt that I should need to, but I promise you. How could you possibly believe such a thing? If I were in possession of information that might help us to find Fred, I would tell you. And the police. Straight away.’

He had taken hold of her then, gently but firmly, and looked straight into her eyes. His were the clearest blue eyes she had ever known. And whenever he looked at his wife they were invariably full of love. Today was no exception.

Felicity had found herself apologizing. Apologizing for allowing herself to question his devotion to his family.

‘I’m just so desperately worried,’ she said, by way of explanation. ‘I don’t know what I’m saying.’

Henry had pulled her close to him. ‘It’s all right, my darling,’ he whispered into her ear. ‘It’s going to be all right. We will find our boy. Soon. I will make sure of that. Don’t I always look after my family?’

Felicity had merely nodded. It was true: Henry Tanner always looked after his family.

But as the hours passed with no news of her youngest grandchild, Felicity’s anxiety grew. Henry liked to promote an image of himself as all-powerful, but much as he might try to look after his family he hadn’t been able to prevent the loss of their only son, William. Only last year their son-in-law had drowned in a sailing accident. And now Fred...

It was as if her family was cursed. But the thought had also occurred to Felicity that it might not have been fate singling them out for tragedy. The driver who ran William down had never been identified. Charlie had been an experienced sailor who never went without a safety harness. What if their deaths were not random? What if Fred’s disappearance was the latest in a series of cruel acts targeting her family?

And if that was the case, Henry must have some idea who was responsible or at least why they were being targeted.

For the first time in her long marriage, Felicity was beginning to doubt her husband. The total and unshakeable faith in Henry that had carried her through the loss of her son had been shattered.