Hidden Depths

Chapter Thirty-Six

When the call came from Julie, Vera was in her office, reading. The night before, she’d started a short story by Samuel Parr, one she’d never heard or read before. It was in the book she’d picked up from the library on her way to meet Ben Craven, a collection published by a small press based in Hexham. The title Jokers and Lovers had some sort of resonance, but she couldn’t remember where it was from. It said on the jacket that the anthology had won a prize she’d never heard of. The story she’d been looking for, the one she’d heard on the radio, hadn’t been in it, but she’d started reading anyway. Vera had fallen asleep after a couple of paragraphs but, perhaps because of the beer swilling round in her veins, the opening image had stayed with her all night. It had described the abduction of a teenager. The abduction had been described lovingly. A summer’s morning. Sunshine. The flowers in the hedgerow named. It became a seduction, rather than an act of violence. The gender of the child was left deliberately ambiguous, but Vera imagined Luke. A great deal was made of the child’s beauty. This was a form which would turn heads. And Luke could have been a girl with his long lashes and his slender body. Half child, half man, he’d been an ambiguous figure too.

In the office, Vera held the morning briefing. Joe Ashworth had checked all the car-rental places in North Tyneside.

‘Nobody of Clive Stringer’s name or description hired a car on Wednesday night or Friday. I suppose that lets him off the hook.’ He sounded disappointed.

Vera almost felt sorry for him. She described the interview with Peter Calvert. ‘We know he was Lily’s lover. We know he’s a lying bastard, with an unhealthy interest in bonny lasses. We know she left her silver and opal ring in the Calverts’ cottage. But we can’t prove she didn’t drop it when she looked round the day before. And we can’t prove any connection between him and Luke Armstrong.’ Then she’d gone on to describe the connection between Lily and Kath. ‘Is it significant that the new Mrs Armstrong didn’t tell us she knew the Marsh lass? God knows. It is to us, of course. But we’re living and breathing the investigation. Maybe she just wanted to forget all about it and get on with her life.’

Then Vera had retreated to her office. She knew there were more important things to do, but she told herself that her team would already be doing them. She was pulled back to the story, the strange central character. Then the phone rang.

‘Julie Armstrong on the line, ma’am. She won’t speak to anyone but you.’

Vera listened in silence when Julie described the envelope, the writing. ‘I didn’t want to bother you, like. But last time you seemed to think it was important. We haven’t touched it. Well, just my mam when she brought it in from the front door.’

‘Has Laura got a mobile?’

‘Oh aye, they’ve all got mobiles these days, haven’t they?’

‘Phone her and tell her to stay at school. She’s not to go out with anyone, not even someone she knows until you pick her up. I’ll send someone in a car and you can go and fetch her. I’ll contact the school. Leave the card where it is. Don’t open it.’

‘She won’t have her phone switched on,’ Julie said. Vera could sense her confusion, the onset of panic. ‘It’s a rule. They’re not allowed.’

‘Don’t worry, pet. Just send her a text and leave her a voicemail message. I’ll see to the rest.’

She hung up and took a moment to compose herself. She’d picked up some of Julie’s panic, could feel her brain start to scramble, the eczema start to itch. Then she phoned the high school in Whitley Bay, bullied her way past an officious secretary to the headmaster. He understood at once what was needed, motivated, Vera thought, as much by the possibility of tabloid headlines – How did they let it happen? Young girl snatched from school gate – as by concern for Laura’s safety. Then she told herself she was a cynical old bag. He said he’d track Laura down and keep her in his office until Julie and the police car arrived. He’d phone Vera back and let her know when that had happened. Vera sat, waiting. Her eyes wandered back to the book on her desk, the atmospheric jacket in muted blues and greens. The phone rang.

‘Yes?’

The headteacher didn’t identify himself. She heard the tremor in his voice when he spoke, thought he was starting to panic too. ‘She didn’t arrive at school. She was marked absent at registration.’

‘Nobody followed it up?’

‘We wouldn’t. Not one day. And with what happened to her brother, we could understand she might want to take some time.’ Justifying himself to her, and to the unforgiving press which would want someone to blame. Already making his excuses.

‘Of course,’ Vera said. ‘Not your fault.’

But mine? Should I have seen it coming? ‘Does she have a history of bunking off?’

‘No. She’s reliable. A worker. One of the bright ones.’

‘Can you ask around, friends, people she might have come in with on the bus? I’ll send someone to take statements.’ She thought she’d send Ashworth. He’d be good with young lasses.

‘Can you be discreet?’ he said. ‘I mean, no flashing lights and uniforms. I don’t want to start a mass hysteria, parents coming to take their kids away. Luke was a pupil here too.’

She was distracted. ‘You knew him? I mean, as more than a face, a name.’

‘Yes, I like the kids like Luke. The ones who struggle. It’s what I came into teaching for. Important not to forget that sometimes. I took an interest.’

‘Can you think why someone would have wanted him dead?’

‘No!’ The answer was immediate and vehement. ‘He was bit slow, but he was a nice kid. People enjoyed his company.’ He struggled to explain. ‘He was completely inoffensive.’ He wouldn’t be satisfied with that description, but she understood what he meant.

When Vera arrived at Julie’s house, the door was open and she was waiting to go. Her mother was hovering in the background. Julie turned to say goodbye to the older woman, but by then Vera was out of the car and blocking the door.

‘A change of plan,’ she said comfortably. ‘No rush now. Let’s go in. Any chance of a brew, Mrs Richardson?’

She led Julie into the living room and sat her on the sofa. ‘Laura’s not at school, pet. Did she definitely get on the bus?’

‘I don’t know. I wasn’t here. I stayed last night with a friend.’ She looked up at Vera. ‘I was at Gary’s place. Don’t tell my mam. But I needed to get away, have a few drinks.’

‘What time did you wake up? A bit of a hangover, was it?’

‘Aye, something like that. I was out of it till ten.’

‘And was Gary with you all that time?’

‘We didn’t sleep together. I was on the sofa.’

‘So he could have gone out without you knowing.’ Vera was speaking almost to herself. She didn’t expect an answer.

‘Where’s Laura?’ It came out like a scream, brought her mother rushing from the kitchen.

‘We don’t know. We’re all looking for her. The school. My team, and they’re the best you’ll find anywhere.’

‘What time did Laura leave the house?’ Julie turned to her mother. ‘Did she get the bus?’

‘She left at the normal time. In a rush, no time for breakfast as usual. I’d made her a packed lunch but she wouldn’t take it.’

‘Did you have a go at her, before she went out?’ Julie was red and angry. ‘You always have to nag.’

The older woman was almost in tears. ‘I didn’t have a go at her. I said she was really brave for going and I hoped she’d have a good day.’

‘Oh Mam, I’m sorry. It’s my fault. I should have been here. I was so wrapped up in myself and she needed me. It’s like Luke all over again.’

‘We’ve really no time for this,’ Vera said. ‘You can save the tantrums for later, when we’ve got Laura back. I need information. The time of the bus. The names of the friends she travelled in with. Favourite teachers. Teachers she hated. Boyfriends past and present. You start making a list. I’m going to look at this card.’ She tore a sheet of paper from a notebook and gave Julie’s mother a pen. When she left them they were sitting side by side on the settee, both with tears drying unchecked on their cheeks, but working through the problem, coming up with names.

The envelope was lying in the centre of the kitchen table. From the moment she’d got Julie’s call Vera had tried to tell herself this might all be a waste of time. The woman was probably overreacting. It was a card from a friend or a relative or a teacher. Nothing sinister. But when she saw it, she recognized the capital letters at once. This time there was the correct address. It even had the postcode. The envelope hadn’t been sealed. The flap had been tucked into the paper at the back. No saliva. Nor on the stamp, which was of the ready-stick variety. Vera pulled tweezers and latex gloves from her bag, put on the gloves, lifted out the card. A pressed flower. Something small and blue which she didn’t recognize. The back was blank, just as the one which had been sent to Luke. No kisses.

She got on her phone to Holly at Kimmerston. ‘It’s definitely the same. I want it to the lab now and fast-tracked. And chase them up on the others.’

She phoned Ashworth, but heard immediately that he was surrounded by a gaggle of girls and couldn’t speak. ‘Call me,’ she said. ‘As soon as you have something.’ She knew he didn’t need telling that but it made her feel better to be dishing out orders.

She put on her calm, slightly daft face before going into the living room. She wrote down the direct-line number for Holly and gave it to Beryl Richardson. ‘She’s a nice lass. Give her a ring and give her all the names you’ve come up with. Julie, I’d like you to come with me. Show me the way Laura would walk to the bus stop. I’ve got my mobile on me and they’ll call as soon as there’s any news. We could both do with some fresh air.’

She had Julie on her feet and out of the house before either of the women could complain. At the gate, instead of turning left towards the centre of the village and the main road, Julie turned right. ‘Laura didn’t like waiting with the crowd at the bus stop by the pub. Specially since Luke died. She always felt awkward with lots of people anyway, but since then it’s been even worse. She walks along the cut here and gets on at the stop nearer town.’ She stopped, turned to Vera. ‘I should have given her a lift in. But I was such a mess myself. I couldn’t face it.’

‘This isn’t your fault,’ Vera said, slowly enunciating every word. ‘None of it.’

Julie led her down a narrow alley with allotments on one side and the backs of houses on the other and arrived at a stile. Vera heaved herself onto it and waited, perched on the top, panting for breath, looking out at the landscape beyond. The footpath followed the side of the field which had been cut the day before, along the edge of a patch of woodland towards the main road. Laura would have been visible from the upstairs windows in Julie’s street all the way. Vera thought she’d get a team to do a house-to-house. It was an outside possibility that the girl had been seen, but worth a shot. If Laura had been taken, this surely was where it had happened. Once on the bus, she’d be surrounded by other kids all the way to school. She lowered herself down the other side, pulled down her skirt so she was decent. Julie followed.

‘Who else would have known Laura took this path to get the bus?’ Vera stooped to pick a bit of straw from her sandal, tried not to make too much of the question.

‘I don’t know. The other kids, I suppose.’

‘Geoff? Kath?’

‘She might have mentioned it. I can’t see it, though. She hasn’t exactly been chatty lately.’

So it was planned, Vera thought. They knew that anyway because of the card, but this confirmed it. Someone had waited and watched, followed the family’s movements. Not from the street. That would have been noticed. Perhaps from here on the edge of the wood, where you had a view of the village. A good pair of binoculars and you’d see inside the houses.

Then she thought that whatever the reason had been for the first murder, the killer was now enjoying himself. Or herself. It had become a game, an obsession. A piece of theatre. Not just in the staging of the body, but in the events leading up to that. She hoped the killer would want to make the pleasure last. She hoped it meant that Laura was still alive.