The Widow

Chapter 37

Saturday, 16 January 2010

The Detective

MATTHEW EVANS WAS not a happy man. The police had come knocking on his door without warning and his wife, baby on hip and toddler at her side, had opened the door to them.

Bob Sparkes smiled politely with Salmond standing nervously at his side. The young officer had agreed to go with her old boss to knock on the door but knew she was putting herself on the line. She would have the book thrown at her if her superiors found out, but he’d persuaded her that they were doing the right thing.

‘I know I’m not on the case now.’

‘You were removed, Sir.’

‘Right, thank you for reminding me, Salmond. But I need to be there. I know the case inside out and I’ll be able to spot the lies,’ he’d said.

She knew he was right and called West Midlands police to let them know she’d be on their patch, but as soon as she put the phone down, she felt pressurized and sick.

Salmond drove, but Sparkes took the train north to avoid being seen by his former colleagues. When he spotted Salmond waiting for him outside the railway station, she looked grim and stressed.

‘Come on Salmond, it’ll be fine,’ he said quietly. ‘No one will know I was here. The invisible man, I promise.’

She’d given him a brave smile and the pair had trudged off to meet Matt Evans.

‘Matt, there’s two police officers here to see you,’ his wife had called to him. ‘What’s this about?’ she asked the officers on the doorstep, but Sparkes and Salmond waited until they had her husband in front of them before saying anything further. Fair’s fair, Sparkes thought.

Evans had a good idea why the police were there. The first time he saw Dawn and Bella on the television and did the maths, he knew the cops would appear one day. But as the weeks, months and then years passed, he had begun to hope.

‘She might not be mine,’ he’d told himself at the start. ‘Bet Dawn was sleeping with other blokes.’ But in his stomach – a much more reliable organ than his heart – he knew Bella was his. She looked so much like his ‘real’ daughter he was amazed people hadn’t seen it and rung into Crimewatch.

But they hadn’t and he’d continued his life, adding to his family and picking up new Dawns along the way. He never had sex without a condom again, though.

The senior officer suggested a quiet chat and he gratefully took them into the dining room they never used.

‘Mr Evans, do you know a Dawn Elliott?’ Salmond said.

Evans had considered lying – he was very good at it – but knew Dawn would identify him if it came to it. ‘Yes. We had a bit of a romance a few years ago, when I was repping down on the south coast. You know what it’s like when you’re working long hours, you need a bit of fun, a bit of relaxation…’

Salmond looked at him coolly, registering the floppy fringe, big brown eyes and cheeky, persuasive smile, and moved on.

‘And did you know that Dawn had a baby after your romance? Did she contact you?’

Evans swallowed hard. ‘No, I knew nothing about the baby. Look, I changed my mobile number because she was getting a bit clingy and-’

‘You didn’t want your wife to find out,’ Sparkes finished for him.

Matt looked grateful and turned on the man-to-man stuff. ‘Yeah. Look, Shan, my wife, doesn’t need to know about this, does she?’ The last time Shan Evans had been contacted by one of her husband’s conquests, she’d said there would be no more chances and demanded that they have another baby, their third. ‘It’ll bring us closer, Matt.’

It hadn’t. The sleepless nights and post-natal sex moratorium had sent him out looking for fun and relaxation again. There was a secretary in London at the moment. He couldn’t help himself.

‘That’s up to you, Sir,’ Sparkes said. ‘Has there ever been any contact between you since you changed your mobile?’

‘No, I steered well clear. Dangerous to go back – they think you have come back to marry them.’

Heartless bastard, Zara Salmond thought, writing HB in the margin of her notebook. Then amending it to FHB. She’d had her own teenage encounters with married men on the prowl.

Evans was fidgeting in his hard chair.

‘Actually, funny thing, I did spot her once in a chat room on the internet. I was just browsing through, like you do, and there she was. Seem to remember she was Little Miss Sunshine, like the children’s book – my eldest’s got that one – but she was using her own photo. Not the brightest spark, Dawn.’

‘Did you make yourself known to Little Miss Sunshine?’

‘Course not. The whole point of chat rooms is everyone is supposed to be anonymous. More fun that way.’

DS Salmond wrote it all down, asking him to spell out the names of the chat rooms he favoured and his own online identities. After twenty-five minutes, Evans began to rise to show them out, but Sparkes had not finished.

‘We need you to give some samples, Mr Evans.’

‘What for? I’m pretty sure Bella was mine – she looks just like my other kids.’

‘Well, that’s good to know. But we need to be sure and we need to be able to rule you out of our investigation.’

Evans looked aghast. ‘Investigation? I haven’t had anything to do with the disappearance of that little girl.’

‘Your little girl.’

‘Well, yes, OK, but why would I kidnap a child? I’ve got three of my own. Some days I’d pay someone to kidnap them.’

‘I’m sure,’ Sparkes said. ‘But we need to be thorough so we can rule you out. Why don’t you get your jacket and tell your wife you need to go out?’

The officers waited outside.

Salmond looked as if she might burst, she was so pleased with herself. ‘He saw Dawn in an over-eighteens chat room. She was a player – an amateur, but a player.’

Sparkes tried to remain calm, but the adrenalin was pumping through him too.

‘This could be the link, Salmond. The link between her and Glen Taylor.’ Sparkes laughed, despite himself.

Neither of them heard the exchange between husband and wife, but Salmond sensed there was unfinished business when Evans got into the car with them.

‘Let’s get this over with,’ he said and shut up.

At the local police station, Evans gave DNA samples, attempting laddish banter with the younger officers, but no one was charmed. Tougher audience than the pissed girls on the dance floor, Sparkes thought, as Salmond applied a little more force than was strictly necessary on Evans’ fingers in the ink.

‘Sorry, Sir, you have to press hard to get a good impression.’

Zara Salmond told Sparkes she was driving back to her HQ to tell her new boss the news, face to face. She needed time to put together her story without dropping Sparkes – and herself – in it.

‘I’ll say West Midlands didn’t have the manpower so I popped up here and found him, Bella Elliott’s father. He’s a serial shagger from Brum, like we thought – one Matthew Evans. Company rep, married with three children. What do you think, Sir?’

He’d smiled encouragement, adding, ‘And he may provide the link between Glen and Bella.’

Cue champagne corks, Sparkes thought, more in hope than in expectation.

In the end, she told him later, the significance of the breakthrough swept aside any questions about why she had taken it upon herself to visit Evans on her own.

‘We’ll talk about that later, Salmond,’ DCI Wellington said as she picked up the phone to Chief Superintendent Parker to claim her part of the glory.

Sparkes’ recall to the Hampshire squad came four days later. CS Parker was short and to the point. ‘We’ve got a fresh lead on the Bella case, Bob. No doubt you’ve heard. We want you to take it on. I’ve talked to the Met to clear it. How quickly can you come back?’

‘On my way, Sir.’

His return was typically low key. ‘Hello, Salmond. Let’s see where we are with Matthew Evans,’ he said as he took his coat off.

And he slipped back in, as if he’d just stepped out for a few minutes.

Salmond and the IT Forensics team did not have encouraging news. They had gone steaming back through the data downloaded from Taylor’s original computer to hook out Little Miss Sunshine as soon as they got the information. But she wasn’t there.

‘No chats, no emails, Sir. We’ve looked under all the permutations but she doesn’t seem to figure.’

Sparkes, Salmond and DC Dan Fry stood in a ragged semi-circle behind the techie’s chair and stared at the screen as names rolled up, willing her to appear. It was the fourth time through the list and the mood in the room was bleak.

Sparkes went back to his office and picked up the phone. ‘Hello, Dawn, it’s Bob Sparkes. No, no news exactly, but I have a couple of questions. I need to talk to you, Dawn. Can I come now?’

She deserved to be handled carefully after all she’d been through, but this had to be addressed head on.