Chapter Nineteen
He had been watching her ever since she sat down in the café. At first he wasn’t sure but she brought out the book and laid it on the table. All doubts left his mind. It was her. He circled the café, trying to see her face but it was well hidden by the hood on her jacket, and he hesitated to approach her. After a narrow call last month when he’d almost fallen into a police honey trap, he’d been ultra-cautious.
He slipped into a shop doorway and continued to watch her. He saw the frequent looks at her watch, the impatient tap of her feet, and the resigned shrug of her shoulders when she decided he wasn’t coming.
She rose, tucked the book into her knapsack, slung it over her shoulder, and left the café. He followed and was close behind her when she reached the escalator. His fingers itched, now was the time to find out whether she was genuine.
He descended a step, stretched out a hand and yanked the hood away from her face. His eyes widened and he found it difficult to breathe. Panic beat a tattoo in his chest. The face was not one he wanted to see, for this was no child who had been waiting for him. The escalator continued downward but already he was running, pushing past the others who were in his way. He leapt off the end of it and didn’t stop running until he was well clear of the Wellgate centre.
He was forced to stop when his legs were on the point of collapsing beneath him and he could hardly breathe, each gasp racking his chest with unbearable pain. He slid into an entryway between two shops and bent over, clasping his knees, gulping air. Gradually his breathing returned to normal and he straightened, but the panic hadn’t left him. He waited, listening for shouts and the clatter of pursuing feet. When he didn’t hear them he ventured a look into the street, but saw only the usual Tuesday crowds milling about.
Bloody coppers’ trap that’s what it had been. He’d have to be more careful in the future. Turning his collar up, he joined the crowd of shoppers and walked down the street.
* * * *
The Greenfield estate was about three miles from Patricia Carnegie’s secluded house, but it seemed another universe. It was the dividing line between country and city. Fields lined the road at one side, and ugly housing blocks at the other. The access roads into the estate were named Crescents, because the housing blocks followed the crescent shape of the roads. Opposite the houses were large low-walled parking areas fringed by patchy grass, and scrubby bushes festooned with flapping plastic carrier bags, paper and various other items of rubbish. It was difficult to imagine this estate had won awards when it was built, but now it was an area where only the bold ventured after dark. This was where Paul Carnegie lived.
Kate sat quietly in the passenger seat while Bill drove to the address Patricia Carnegie had supplied. He tried to focus on driving but the interview had left him unsettled, and he wondered if his boss had been as stunned as he was at the woman’s outburst, which left him understanding why Diane Carnegie described her mother-in-law as the Witch of the North. He couldn’t prevent a shudder as he remembered the venom in the woman’s voice when she spoke of her son’s family.
‘This is it.’ Bill parked the car in front of the stairs accessing the upper levels. He wasn’t going to risk his car in the car park at the other side of the road, although he wasn’t sure how much safer it would be here.
Kate didn’t move. ‘The interview – what did you make of it?’
Bill noticed the frown on her face.
‘Weird. She’s one strange lady if you ask me.’
‘Yes, that’s what I thought, but it left me wondering if she knew more about her granddaughter’s disappearance than she let on.’ Kate got out of the car, then leaned back in to collect her bag. She slung it over her shoulder, and said, ‘Well, come on, don’t just sit there. We have an interview to conduct with her son.’
‘Yes, ma’am.’ A slight smile twitched at the corners of Bill’s mouth. That was more like it, she was back to her officious self. He supposed she couldn’t help it.
She was halfway up the first set of stairs by the time Bill caught up with her. ‘I wouldn’t touch the handrail if I were you, ma’am.’
She kept climbing. ‘Why not?’
‘Never know what the yobs have smeared on it.’ Bill stifled a smile as she removed her hand from the rail.
Wind whistled along the walkway. It was windier here on the third floor than it had been at street level, and Paul Carnegie’s flat was at the end of the walkway. Rubbish had blown into the corner and partly over his doorstep. Bill kicked a lager can out of his way and rapped on the door. No response. He rapped again, louder this time. Still no response. It was then Bill spotted the woman with the mess of wild red hair, plodding along the walkway towards them. That was all he needed, Mad May Fraser. He should have remembered she lived in this block.
‘You found my Megan yet?’
Kate took a step backwards. Bill couldn’t blame her, for May had a ferocious look on her face and looked as if she meant business.
‘We’re working on it Mrs Fraser,’ Bill said.
‘Not working hard enough if you ask me.’
‘We’ve highlighted it in the press and had officers doing doorstep enquiries. I’m sure you’ll have noticed.’
‘Fat lot of good they’ve been. Who’s the bint?’
‘This is Detective Inspector Rawlings, and she’s pulling out all stops to find your Megan.’
‘Hmph! I’ll believe that when the cows come home. Anyway, he’s not home, went out this morning and hasn’t come back yet. What you want with him anyway?’
‘Now, now, Mrs Fraser. You know better than to ask that.’
‘Hmph!’ Hair blowing wildly in the wind she stomped away from them along the walkway. Stopping when she reached the stairwell, she turned and shouted, ‘You find my Megan or there’ll be trouble.’
Kate had a bemused look on her face. ‘Megan, that’s the fourteen year old who’s missing, right?’
‘Yes, ma’am. But it’s not the first time she’s gone off. We picked her up in Arbroath the last time, and the time before that it was Glasgow.’
‘Not sure if you want to go up there, mate. There’s two pigs waiting for you.’ May Fraser’s voice, echoing up the stairwell, had a hollow sound.
Bill suppressed a smile. ‘I reckon that’s Mr Carnegie on his way up. I’ll pop along and meet him.’ With that, he strode along the walkway. He’d almost reached the next landing when he caught up with a man in a hooded jacket, retreating down the stairs.
‘Paul Carnegie?’
He turned to face Bill, his face in shadow. ‘Who wants to know?’
‘Police, mate. I’m Detective Sergeant Murphy. My gaffer, Detective Inspector Rawlings, is waiting upstairs. We’d like a word.’
‘What about?’
‘Better if we discussed that in your flat, we don’t want the whole block to know.’ Bill nodded his head in May Fraser’s direction.
Paul glared at the woman. ‘I suppose that would be best,’ he said, with a sigh of resignation.
‘After you,’ Bill said, making sure he remained behind Paul Carnegie in case he changed his mind about the interview.
Chapter Twenty
Paul Carnegie led them along a dark hallway and into a sparsely furnished room. It contained one leather armchair that had seen better days, a formica-topped table strewn with newspapers and magazines, a two-bar electric fire, a computer chair, and a corner desk unit dominated by a state of the art computer. He stood for a moment, shifting from foot to foot, as if unsure what to do next. Bill guessed he didn’t get many visitors.
‘What is it you want?’ Paul’s voice was soft and high-pitched with a note of anxiety he seemed unable to conceal.
‘We wanted to ask you about your daughter, Jade.’
‘Jade has been missing for five years, and your lot haven’t done much to find her.’
‘Then I’m sure you’ll be pleased to know we’ve reopened the case.’ Kate’s voice was steady, but Bill could tell she wasn’t at ease. Maybe it was because Paul Carnegie still had his hood up, or maybe it was because of the accusatory tone of his voice.
‘Why would you do that?’
‘Let’s just say there have been developments.’
Paul was silent, seemingly mulling over what Kate had said.
‘Why don’t you take your coat off and sit down, and you can tell us what you remember about the day she disappeared.’
Kate leaned against the desk and smiled at him. Bill guessed she was trying to strike a non-threatening pose, so he perched himself on the arm of the leather chair.
Paul sat in the computer chair, loosened the toggle buttons on his coat and pushed back the hood. He kept the coat on his shoulders, but underneath he wore a checked shirt and grubby jeans. His spectacles were held together at the bridge by a piece of sticking plaster, and he looked unkempt. He passed a hand over his partially bald head and smoothed the hair down at the back. His eyes were bright behind his spectacles and Bill wasn’t sure if he had tears in them. His chin was dark with stubble which was either a fashion statement or indicated a reluctance to shave.
‘It’s so long ago, it seems like another life.’
‘In your own time,’ Kate said.
Bill took out his notebook and rummaged in his pocket for a pencil.
‘She’s been gone now for five years. It was a day something like it is today. Cold and windy, but it was a month earlier. February it was. As if I’d ever forget.’ He paused, lost in thought, before continuing. ‘The last time I saw her was at breakfast. When I came home from work she was gone and I never saw her again.’
Paul looked away and lapsed into silence.
‘How was she at breakfast time?’
‘Same as usual. Giggly, in a hurry. Diane was nagging her to eat before she left for school.’
‘And when you came back?’
‘I was late that night. I’d been held back at the depot. We’d had a load of spring bulbs delivered earlier in the day and they needed to be stored properly ready for planting.’
‘You were a gardener . . . ’
‘Yes, with the council. I enjoy working with the earth, couldn’t abide an indoor job. I haven’t worked much since Jade disappeared though. Didn’t have the heart for it.’
‘You’re unemployed?’
‘That’s right. I do jobbing gardening from time to time, and I keep my mother’s grounds tidy. There’s lots to do there.’
‘Let’s get back to the day Jade disappeared,’ Kate said.
‘As I said, when I came home she’d already gone. Off to visit a friend, Diane said, but she didn’t return. It’s upsetting remembering that day.’ He fumbled with his spectacles. ‘D’you mind if I get a drink of water?’
Kate nodded her agreement.
Paul got up and went into the kitchen. When he returned he was carrying a glass which he laid on the desk. Water splashed out and formed a small puddle on the surface. He stared at it for a moment before continuing.
‘It destroyed our family, you know. Diane wouldn’t stay home. She was always out looking for Jade. We found her on the Tay Bridge one time, getting ready to jump. And Emma, she lapsed into a catatonic state, she was like that for months and when she recovered she didn’t even know it had happened. She still thinks she was the one who supported the family through it all, when it was actually me.’
‘What about Ryan. You don’t mention him.’
‘Ryan seemed OK. He was sad, of course, and I caught him crying several times. I thought that was a natural reaction, although he seemed to think it was shameful.’
‘And you, how did it affect you?’
‘That was the problem. I was busy supporting my family it didn’t leave any room for me to grieve, and it all got too much for me. That’s why I left.’ He looked up. ‘I loved Jade, you know. Loved her more than any of them, and when she disappeared there seemed to be nothing left for me.’ He lifted the glass and gulped water. ‘You said there had been developments. What are they?’ He adjusted his spectacles and looked at Kate.
‘It’s tentative and we’re not sure what it means, but your wife has had contact from someone purporting to be Jade.’
‘After all this time, how can that be?’
‘As I said, we’re not sure what it means but we have to investigate it.’
‘I see.’ He appeared thoughtful. ‘It’s probably one of Diane’s fantasies, she never believed Jade might be dead.’ He wiped his eyes with the back of his hands, and, without looking up, said, ‘Will you keep me informed?’
‘Of course.’ Kate fished a business card out of her shoulder bag. ‘If you remember anything that might help us. Or if the person claiming to be Jade gets in contact, you can reach me on this number.’
Chapter Twenty-One
Diane emptied the bucket of water down the drain at the back door rather than contaminate her kitchen sink.
She straightened, aware of the ache in her back and the rawness of her knees, but she wasn’t finished yet. She still had the aluminium bucket to scrub until it shone. Emma gave her plastic buckets in an attempt to wean her off the aluminium ones, but Diane rejected them because you were never sure they were clean enough.
After Ryan left for his appointment at Tony’s club, Diane had been at a loss. She was sure if they’d left her alone she would have found Jade. But Emma and Ryan had interfered and brought her home, so she did what she always did and started cleaning.
The sink, shower unit and bath were spotless but she scoured them anyway, then she bleached the toilet. After that she scrubbed the bathroom and kitchen floors as well as the front step.
Memories of Jade surfaced, bombarding her brain with their immediacy.
She sank onto the stone step outside the kitchen door and closed her eyes, the bucket forgotten in her anguish. Her reddened hands twisted the fabric of her skirt, round and round her fingers until they became numb. Her mind was in turmoil but one thought kept surfacing – she had to find Jade.
She stood up so suddenly she almost overbalanced. The one person Jade might have contacted was Paul. But it had been years since he’d walked out on the family, and she didn’t know where he was. However, one person would know, his mother. She shivered. The woman was evil, and when Paul left she’d hoped never to see her again, but if it meant finding Jade she had no option.
Diane, leaving the bucket outside, stumbled into the kitchen and through to the hall, forgetting to close the back door in her hurry. Her hands, no longer numb, tingled with the returning feeling and she had difficulty opening the front door. She paused on the doorstep. There was something she should have done, but the thought eluded her. Then she remembered, she needed a coat. Turning back she grabbed it and, slinging it round her shoulders, ran down the street.
The wind whipped the edges of her coat and skirt whirling them round her knees. A sudden blast forced the coat from her shoulders and she grabbed the cloth edge to prevent it landing in the gutter. Stopping, she thrust her arms into the sleeves, something she should have done when she left the house. She was still buttoning the coat when a bus rumbled past. She watched it with dazed eyes, and that was when it hit her. She had no idea how to get to her mother-in-law’s house, which bus to take, and even if there was a bus service. Ryan had gone off with the car and it was too far to walk.
Ryan had said he was going to Tony’s night club which was a lot nearer than Patricia Carnegie’s house. She walked to the club most days when she was going to work. And her car keys were in her coat pocket. Her mind made up, she turned in the direction of the night club. She needed the car more than Ryan did.
When she reached Teasers’ car park it only took a moment before she was sitting in the front seat ready to drive off. She edged the car forward, then stopped. Ryan would wonder where the car was. He might think it stolen. And he might report it to the police. She could do without that hassle, but she didn’t want to speak to Ryan either. He would stop her and take her home again, and that was the last thing she wanted.
‘Damn,’ she muttered. But she got out of the car and entered the club through the rear entrance. It only took a moment to find the security man who was on duty. ‘Will you tell Ryan Carnegie I’ve taken the car,’ she said.
‘Ryan who?’
‘Carnegie. He’s here to take photos for Tony.’
‘Oh, you mean the guy upstairs videoing Angel.’
‘Yes,’ she muttered. ‘Will you tell him?’
‘Sure thing, babe. I’ll see to it.’
Diane hurried back to the car, bemused at being called babe.
It didn’t take her long to drive to the other side of the town. But when she turned in the gates and drove up the tree-lined drive, she started to have doubts. Patricia hated Diane, just as much as Diane hated her. How the heck was she going to handle it. She stiffened in the driving seat. She’d make the old bitch tell her where Paul was. Jade deserved as much.
Screeching the car to a halt outside the front of the house, she leaped out and battered on the front door. When her knock wasn’t answered she hammered on it again.
The door opened a fraction, then started to close again. But Diane was ready and stuck her foot in the opening. ‘I want to talk to you.’
‘Go away, I don’t want to talk or see you. I thought I made that plain when Paul left you and came home to me.’
Diane pushed the door. She was stronger than Patricia, and it opened.
‘You have no right barging in here. I’ll call the police and get you removed.’
‘Maybe so, but not before I’ve got what I came for.’
‘And what would that be? There’s nothing here for you and you have no right to barge in.’ Patricia retreated down the hallway.
‘Paul’s address.’
Patricia laughed. ‘It’ll be a cold day in hell before I give you that.’
‘You’d know more about hell than I do, but I can soon arrange for you to find out more.’ Diane advanced towards Patricia who retreated further.
‘You!’ Patricia laughed again, it wasn’t a pleasant sound. ‘What could you do? Look at you. You look like a washerwoman with your out-of-date coat and your ugly red hands. And your hair hasn’t seen a stylist for years. What on earth my Paul ever saw in you, I’ll never know.’
‘Is that so?’ Diane’s voice was quiet in contrast to the rage pounding in her brain, making it difficult for her to focus and sending waves of heat through her body.
Patricia laughed again. ‘Get out of my house you poor excuse for a woman.’
Unable to contain herself any longer, Diane slapped Patricia, and before the woman could recover slapped her again across the other cheek. Her hands stung from the contact and she hoped Patricia’s cheeks were stinging as well. She advanced and grabbed Patricia’s shoulder in a tight grip. ‘Paul’s address, I want it now.’
Patricia tried to shake her off but Diane tightened her grasp. ‘Now!’
‘You can’t make me give it to you. No matter what you do.’
‘I haven’t even started yet.’ Diane dug her fingers into Patricia’s hair and yanked.
Patricia grabbed her head and moaned.
‘I knew it was a wig, Patty.’ Diane knew Patricia hated being called Patty. ‘And I’m not going to give it back.’
‘I’ll call the police.’
‘You do that, Patty, but the wig will be long gone by then.’
Patricia reached out and tried to wrench the wig from Diane, but Diane danced away from her.
‘I have scissors in my pocket, or maybe a lighter would be better. I wonder how it would burn. Would it flare up or smoulder? Why don’t I try to find out?’
Patricia seemed to have shrunk. ‘You wouldn’t dare,’ she said.
‘Oh, I would dare all right. But I tell you what, write down Paul’s address for me and I’ll give back the wig.’ Diane grabbed a notepad and pen from the telephone stand behind Patricia.
‘Paul won’t speak to you.’
‘What have you got to lose then. Write his address down and I’ll give you the wig and get out of your way.’
‘Oh, what the heck, you win.’ Patricia scribbled the address on a page of the notepad, tore it out and handed it to Diane.
‘Thanks, Patty. I’ll be off.’ Diane strode out the front door.
‘My wig! You said you’d give me back my wig.’
‘Oh, yes.’ Diane looked at it and was tempted to keep it, but she raised her arm and threw it into the nearest tree. ‘There you go, Patty. I always keep my promises, but you’ll have to climb for it.’
Diane was smiling when she drove out the gates and onto the main road.
* * * *
The house was empty when Ryan got back from the photoshoot. Emma was still at university. She’d said she had lectures today, and there was no sign of Diane.
‘Mum,’ he shouted, but there was no response. Where was she? The worry he’d been feeling about her earlier returned, making his stomach churn and his chest ache. He was sure he was going to be sick.
He checked the lounge and the kitchen ran up the stairs and peered into every bedroom. He even looked in the bathroom. But Diane was nowhere to be seen.
At last he checked the hall cupboard. Her coat wasn’t there. She must have gone out again.
He dithered at the front door. Maybe he should go and look for her. But where would he start? He didn’t know what to do. Diane’s obsession with Jade was affecting them all.
Five years ago the whole family had been in turmoil, every single one of them had been on the point of a breakdown, and Ryan didn’t want to go there again.