Vanished

Chapter 15

As Jack walked in the front door, the smell of baking told him which room to head for first. Maggie and Penny had been multitasking. There was evidence of homemade pastry, several cakes, ironing, and another stack of wedding invitations, almost as big as the first, sat on the kitchen table, all sealed and stamped ready to be posted. Jack noted that the envelope on top of the pile was addressed to Elliot Wetlock. Hannah was sitting in her highchair crumbling a buttered scone into tiny pieces and then licking them off the table.

Through the kitchen window, he saw Penny in the back garden pegging out multiple wash-loads. Maggie was tidying the kitchen worktops.

‘Well...’ by Jack’s tone, Maggie knew something sarcastic was coming. ‘If we’re inviting everyone we’ve ever crossed paths with to our wedding, there’s a cleaner on our floor at the station I’d like to invite. He talks a lot about Plymouth Argyle and he’s programmed to wash dirty mugs on sight so, you know, he’d be interesting and useful. Unlike Wetlock.’

‘Some of these invites are just for the evening do.’ When Maggie turned to face Jack, she had a few stray scone crumbs on her cheek held in place by a tiny bit of jam. ‘And Elliot Wetlock will more than likely say no. He’s still got his hands full with Tania, but currently he’s my boss, so I’m inviting him.’

Jack moved to Maggie’s side, brushing his hand across Hannah’s hair as he passed. He stood close to Maggie, leant in, making her pucker in expectation — then licked the jammy crumbs from her face. He followed this up with a kiss, so she knew that he still loved her, regardless of how much money she was spending on their wedding.

After dinner, Jack and Maggie retreated to the lounge with a plate full of cakes to sample and a bottle of red wine, whilst Penny headed upstairs to bath Hannah and put her to bed. ‘There’s a guy at work — Josh — he’s from Alabama. I’ve invited him for dinner one night.’ Maggie said this was fine by her and asked if Jack wanted everyone to be in or out when he came. ‘In. He’s on his own. He’s missing some home comforts.’

‘Saturday would be good, then. And Sunday’s my hen night, don’t forget.’ Jack stared at her with a blank expression. ‘I did tell you, Jack. Penny is with me, Hannah’s with you. And next weekend is your stag night.’

‘What stag night?’

‘Well, I don’t know. That’s Simon’s job. But the date for it is next weekend.’

‘Oh my, God Maggie, why didn’t you remind me that the best man does the stag night before I asked Ridley!’ Jack threw his head back onto the sofa in total dismay. ‘We’ll end up at a museum!’

By 7 a.m. Jack was on the road to Hove. Ridley had given him the clear instruction to find Adam Border and so Jack was heading back to Hester Mancroft as she was the only point of contact they had for him.

As he drove, Jack tried to contact Ridley, but he wasn’t answering — yet another thing that Ridley never did before his decision to retire — so Jack called Laura instead and asked her to tell Ridley that he’d be back for the afternoon briefing, hopefully with a solid lead on Adam Border. She was pissed off that he was heading to interview someone she’d already spoken to: if he’d found additional information or evidence that warranted a second interview, she would have accepted that, but he hadn’t. ‘Repeating my work makes me look stupid if you have no good reason to do it, other than you think you can do a better job.’

‘Nah, I just want a day at the beach.’ Jack tried to be flippant but Laura’s silence told him that he had genuinely offended her. He was about to try and placate her when a call from Josh appeared on his mobile screen waiting to be either accepted or rejected. Jack spoke fast. ‘I have a hunch, Laura, and I need to follow it up face to face. What I’m doing says nothing about the quality of your initial interview. But, if you’re pissed off, take it up with Ridley. He’s the one who told me to find Adam Border.’ Then he hung up and pressed accepton Josh’s call. Too late.

A text from Josh quickly followed:

Within a couple of text exchanges, it was settled that Josh would come to dinner on Saturday night.

Jack could see Hester Mancroft approaching the front door through the pane of frosted glass. She took forever but, with the sound of the sea behind him, he really didn’t mind waiting.

Hester pressed her face to the glass and asked who it was. Jack shouted his name and said that he was a police officer, but she couldn’t hear him, so he had to shout again. In the end, she opened the door anyway, on the assumption that a doorstep conman would not draw attention to himself by shouting his name numerous times in the street.

Hester took Jack directly into the kitchen and set about making a cup of tea. It was a lengthy operation and Jack doubted that it would be ready by the time he had to leave. She put a rusty old stove-top kettle on the gas, washed two of her best china mugs, then spent the first five minutes of their conversation trying to find a clean tea towel. She was a good-looking woman who, in her day, must have been very attractive. She was dressed smartly and had done her hair and make-up regardless of the fact that, until Jack turned up, no one would have witnessed the effort she’d made.

‘Have you been to Hove before, Mr Warr?’ Her voice was low and aristocratic, matching her smart appearance, but Jack wasn’t at all sure she had the upbringing to back it up. ‘The name is rarely heard without the words “Brighton and” before it, but I think we have the better esplanade. That lovely expanse of greenery in front of the beach is the perfect place to sit and watch the world go by as you eat fish and chips. It takes away all your worries and sorrows. Do you work with that lady who came to see me last week?’

‘Yes, I do. I wanted to ask you a couple more questions about Adam Border if you don’t mind. To see if we can figure out what happened to him.’

‘I’ll try to help if I can, yes. He rented a room from me when I ran a little B&B in Chelsea. I eventually sold it for far less than it was worth and moved here. My ex-husband was furious that I was offered three quarters of the asking price, which I found delightful, so I accepted. And it was enough to buy this place outright, which is all I really wanted to do. It was my mid-life crisis, I think. But you’ll know this already from your lady friend, won’t you?’

‘Yes, I do.’ Jack smiled to indicate that Hester’s waffling wasn’t a problem, then he guided her back to the subject he needed her to talk about. ‘Adam was a friend of your son’s, who’s now deceased? I was sorry to hear that, Mrs Mancroft.’

‘Thank you.’ An old yet still poignant sadness spread across Hester’s face. It seemed to Jack that the passing decades had not helped her to get over the death of her son. ‘Adam and Julian were quite similar, so they got on. Adam only lived with us for a few months. He was charming, handsome, helpful around the house. He was a decent young man, I’d say. I took several students in over the years — on one occasion, don’t ask me the date because I won’t know — Julian had gone into one of the girl’s bedrooms. She kicked up a stink as you might expect, and Adam calmed things down for me. Julian was a little worse for wear at the time. Her parents arrived the following morning to take her home and Adam helped me to dissuade them from calling the police.’

The screech from the kettle’s whistle brought a pause to the conversation and Hester hit the side of a bag of sugar on the kitchen worktop to break up the solidified grains inside. Jack said he didn’t take sugar, and when she sniffed the milk from the fridge, he quickly said he didn’t take that either. Hester made a pot of tea, placed a hand-knitted cosy on top and joined Jack at the table.

‘Julian’s drug-taking was awful,’ she continued. ‘I felt so helpless. And stupid for not seeing it happening until it was far too late. At first, he just smoked weed... well, they all did at the time. I think Adam was a sensible boy, but when he moved to Amsterdam, that worried me. It’s all legal over there, isn’t it?’

‘What can you tell me about Avril Jenkins?’ Jack asked.

‘Oh, Avril and I go way back. To a housing estate in Leeds. We were always in trouble. Well, she was, and I followed.’ Jack hadn’t known the connection between these two older ladies, but somehow wasn’t surprised that, once again, Adam linked two disparate parts of this investigation. ‘Avril was a real daredevil, although most of the adults would have just called her a devil. We’d spend hours trying to copy the hair and make-up in magazines.’ Sadness descended once again. ‘When she was 16, she ran off with a much older man. I think he was a carpet salesman. Those years without Avril felt... hopeless. But then she came back, without her carpet salesman. And she whisked me off to London! Oh, they were my best days, Mr Warr. I lived! She was doing photographic work and I got a job as a receptionist. Now, I never saw any of her photographs, but I expect you know what they were. She had lots of male friends swooning over her — she was exciting, you see. She felt dangerous.’

Hester got to her feet and got out a biscuit tin so old that the scenic picture on the lid had worn away around the edges where greasy fingers had opened and closed it a thousand times. She checked the dryness of the mugs by swiping her finger around the inside of hers and decided that it was time to pour the tea. It was as thick and dark as coffee, but Jack thanked her and politely declined a biscuit.

‘Avril disappeared for a few years then,’ Hester continued. ‘I heard she’d gone back to Leeds. By then, some of her chutzpah had rubbed off on me and, one night in a bar, when a man asked me to dance, I said yes. That was my future husband. He owned a couple of second-hand car showrooms, which I thought was amusing and very “London”. Turned out there was a lot of money in old cars.’

‘Hester, do you know why Avril went back to Leeds?’ Hester said no but Jack caught her hesitation. She wasn’t skilled at lying. Jack gently pushed. ‘I think she went back north because she had to. I think she was pregnant.’

Once Hester knew that Jack had figured things out for himself, she quickly spilled the beans. ‘Avril had gone back home to give birth to a son. Then she’d stayed there and got a job at an estate agent’s. Apparently, it hadn’t taken long for the novelty of being a single working mum to wear off, and for the draw of the nightlife to call her back — the boy was often left with her parents whilst she partied. Not a good situation because Avril’s mother was very unpleasant sober but drunk she was horrible, and her father had no time for the child. Avril quickly lost her job and made the decision to relinquish custody to the boy’s dad.’ Hester recalled that over the years Avril’s son did come back to live with her every now and then but generally she seemed to palm him off to various men who came and went in her life.

Jack asked if Avril’s son was Adam Border and she confirmed that he was.

‘His dad was in advertising, I think. Worked in London sometimes but lived in Amsterdam. Can’t recall his name. He’d been a fling — well, they normally were with Avril. Until Frederick. I met up with her years later, just before my divorce. There was a big antiques emporium opening at the end of the street where I eventually moved to, and she was looking at a lovely velvet-covered armchair. I remember because it was very expensive, and she invited me to her flat to catch up on old times. She was living in a stunning little studio-type flat, all paid for by her boyfriend. Boyfriend! Sugar Daddy more like. She said she’d landed on her feet, apart from being petrified of him finding out that she had a son. Anyway, I had problems of my own with my divorce and so didn’t see her again for years but I’m guessing he never did find out, because the next thing I knew they’re married and she’s living in a mansion.’

Jack took a sip of his tea, forgetting how long it had been sitting beneath the tea cosy. It was like tar. He raised the mug to his lips again and surreptitiously spat the first sip back into the mug. He then asked when Hester had last seen Avril.

‘More than six months ago. We used to see each other quite often, but recently I’ve not heard a peep.’ Hester became sad and reflective, as she had when talking about her dead son. ‘Last time I saw her, she looked... I don’t know... like a different person. She wore ripped jeans, a faux fur coat and she’d let her hair go grey and wild. She looked... well, she looked like the Avril I knew back in Leeds. Like she was trying to be 16 again. It made me think she might have a young man in the wings, but she said she didn’t.’

‘And she didn’t mention that she had her son living with her?’

‘Oh goodness, she never said a word. Maybe that was sparing my feelings because she knew I’d lost my own son. In fact, that was how we met up again because she wrote a very sweet letter. I know Avril can be difficult, but I do miss her when she goes into hiding on a whim.’ Hester smiled and shrugged. ‘She’s my oldest and closet friend.’

These were unwelcome words to Jack’s ears, because he knew that he now had the unenviable task of telling Hester Mancroft that her dearest friend had been murdered.

‘Hester...’ Jack made sure he looked into her eyes as he spoke. ‘Hester, I’m sorry to have to tell you that Avril has died.’

Hester froze as Jack’s words took their time to register. She swayed slightly in her seat, prompting him to place his hand on her shoulder and gently push her upright again. Hester quickly breathed out and then gulped in a fresh lungful of air, which she held on to. She brought her hand to her chest and her eyes filled with tears.

‘Breathe normally,’ Jack whispered. Jack stood, making sure she was steady in her seat, then went to get her a glass of water. He wanted to make her a sugary cup of tea, but that might be more stressful for him than telling her her best friend was dead.

Hester sat with her back to Jack, trying to remember how to breathe, as he ran the cold tap until the opaque water ran clear. In his search for a glass, Jack opened the cupboard above the kettle — inside was more medication than he’d ever seen outside of the pharmacy at Maggie’s hospital. In amongst the prescribed tablets and medicines was a small brown bottle with a tiny cork stopper in the top. It was exactly the same as the one found in Jessica Chi’s make-up bag, except this one had a label: HEMP EXTRACT FULL-SPECTRUM CBD. And the handwriting was the same as in Avril’s little red notebook.

Jack sat back down and was pleased to see that Hester was now breathing normally. He placed the glass of water in her shaking hands and hovered close by as she manoeuvred it to her lips. ‘Hester, I need to ask you something and I want you to know that you won’t be in any trouble. I need to ask you about the CBD oil in your cupboard. Did Avril give it to you?’

Hester finally let the tears overwhelm her. ‘I’ve got such bad arthritis, Mr Warr. She gave me one bottle each month. It helps me no end. Medicinal is allowed, isn’t it?’

Jack assured Hester that he wasn’t interested in the oil itself, he’d just needed to know if she got it from Avril. ‘She had a little greenhouse with a couple of plants, she said. It was only ever for friends, she said.’ Jack showed Hester the photo of Adam Border that he’d been given by Jessica Chi. ‘He was a teenage hippy when he stayed with me, but that’s Adam, yes.’

Hester asked Jack to open the drawer beneath the kitchen table and pass her the photo album inside. It was a large, dark blue album in a dirty plastic cover and it was overflowing with a mess of memories. Every page was brimming with photos held in place by tiny white sticky corners, and then dozens of loose photos laid randomly on top, protected by thin sheets of tracing paper. This was the kind of album Penny used to carry around before Jack made all of her photos digital.

Hester thumbed through the pages, getting distracted at every turn by images of her and Avril as teenage girls, and by memories of Julian. About halfway through the album, she found what she was looking for: two photos of Adam and Julian, standing with their arms round each other’s shoulders. They wore flared jeans and tight T-shirts, and both had shoulder-length hair. Then she picked out a third photo of Adam with a pretty, leggy blonde girl who stood a couple of inches taller than him. ‘I can’t remember her name. Something Dutch.’ Jack took out his mobile phone and took pictures of the three photographs Hester had showed him. ‘I need to go shortly, Hester. Is there someone who can come and sit with you?’

Hester leant heavily on the kitchen table and got to her feet. ‘I don’t have anyone. So I’d be very grateful, Mr Warr, if you’d walk me to the greenery by the esplanade. I’d like to sit there for a while.’

Jack offered his arm, which she gladly took, and he placed his free hand on top of hers. ‘Actually, I fancy an early lunch, Hester. Would you join me for fish and chips? My treat.’