Death at the Manor (The Asharton Manor Mysteries Book 1) (10 page)

“Sorry about that, I had to take it,” said Nick Fullman as he entered the room. Kate mentally raised her eyebrows, wondering at a man who prioritised a phone call, presumably a business matter, over comforting his wife after their baby son had been kidnapped. Not necessarily a kidnapping, Kate, stop jumping to conclusions. She thought she saw an answering disapproval in Olbeck’s face.

Anderton introduced his colleagues. Nick Fullman shook hands with them both, rather to Kate’s surprise, and then finally sat down next to his sobbing wife.

“Come on, Case,” he said, pulling her up and encircling her with one arm. “Try and keep it together. The police are here to help.”

Casey put shaking fingers up to her mouth. She appeared to be trying to control her tears, taking in deep, shuddering breaths.

“Perhaps you’d like a cup of tea?” said Olbeck. He caught Kate’s eye, and she immediately looked away.
Don’t you bloody dare ask me to make it
. He looked around rather helplessly. “Is there anyone who could , er–”

“I’ll make it.”

They all looked around at the sound of the words. A woman had come into the kitchen. Or had she? Kate wondered whether she’d been there all along, unnoticed. There was something unmemorable about her, which was odd because she too was dressed in full business attire, her face heavily made-up, her hair straightened and twisted and pinned in an elaborate style on the top of her head.

“This is my PA, Gemma Phillips,” said Fullman. There was just a shade of relief in his voice. “Gemma, thanks for coming so quickly.”

“It’s fine,” she said with a brilliant smile, a smile that faded a little as she surveyed Casey, huddled and gasping. “It’s terrible. I came as quickly as I could. I can’t believe it.”

“If you could make tea for us all, that would be wonderful, Miss Phillips,” said Anderton.

“It’s Ms Phillips, if you don’t mind,” she said, rather quickly. “Or you can call me Gemma. I don’t mind.”

Anderton inclined his head.

“Of course. We’d like to talk to you as well, once we’ve been able to sit with Mr and Mrs Fullman for a while.”

He turned back to the Fullmans. Gemma shrugged and began to make tea, moving quickly about the room. Kate watched her. Clearly Gemma knew her way around the kitchen very well. What, exactly, was her relationship with her employers like? Had she worked for them long? Presumably she didn’t live on the premises. Kate made mental notes to use in her interview with the girl later.

The tea was made and presented to them all. Casey took one sip of hers and choked.

“Oh, sorry,” said Gemma. “I always forget you don’t take sugar.”

There was something in her voice that made Kate’s internal sensor light up. Not mockery, not exactly. There was something though. Kate scribbled more mental notes.

Nick Fullman had been given coffee, rather than tea, in an elegant white china cup. He’d swallowed it in three gulps.  Kate noted the dark shadows under his eyes and the faint jittery shudder of his fingers. A caffeine addict? An insomniac? Or something else?

“I heard nothing,” he was saying in response to Anderton’s question. “I was sleeping. I sleep pretty heavily, and the first I knew about anything was Casey screaming down the hallway. I ran down and saw, well, saw Dita on the floor. “

“Do you have any theories as to who might have taken your son?”

Casey let out a small moan. Nick pulled her closer to him.

“None whatsoever. I can’t believe anyone–” His voice faltered for a second. “I can’t believe anyone would do such a thing.”

“No one has made any threats against you or your family recently?”

“Of course not.”

“Who has access to the house? Do you keep any staff?”

Fullman frowned. “What do you mean by access?”

“Well, keys specifically. But also anyone who is permitted to enter the house, particularly on a regular basis.”

“I’ll have to think.” Fullman was silent for a moment. He looked at his personal assistant. “Gemma, you couldn’t be a star and make another coffee, could you?”

“Of course.” Gemma almost jumped from her chair to fulfil his request.

Fullman turned back to the police officers.

“Casey and I have keys, of course. Gemma has a set to the house, although not to the outbuildings, I don’t think.”

“That’s right,” called Gemma from the kitchen. “Just the house.”

“What about Miss Olgweisch?”

Fullman dropped his eyes to the floor. “Yes, Dita had a full set.”

“Anyone else?”

Casey raised her head from her husband’s shoulder.

“My mum’s got a front door key,” she said, her voice hoarse. “She knows the key codes and all that.”

“Ah, yes,” said Anderton. “The security. Presumably all the people who have keys also have security codes and so forth?”

Fullman nodded. “That’s right. There’s an access code on the main gate and the alarm code for the house.”

Kate and Olbeck exchanged glances. Whoever had taken the baby hadn’t set off any of the alarms.

Casey pushed herself upright.

“What are you doing to find him?” she begged. “Why are we sat here answering all these questions when we should be out there looking for him?”

“Mrs Fullman,” said Anderton in a steady tone. “I really do know how desperate you must be feeling. My officers are out there on your land combing every inch of it for clues to Charlie’s whereabouts. We just have to try and ascertain a few basic facts so we can think of the best way to move forward as quickly as possible.”

“It’s just…” Casey’s voice trailed away. Kate addressed her husband.

“Mr Fullman, is there anyone who could come and give your wife some support? Give you both some support? Her mother, perhaps?”

Fullman grimaced. “I suppose so. Case, shall I ring your mum?” His wife nodded, mutely, and he stood up. “I’ll go and ring her then.”

He headed back outside to the terrace, clearly relieved to be escaping the kitchen. Olbeck looked at Kate and raised his eyebrows very slightly. She nodded, just as subtly.

“You two look around,” said Anderton. “DS Redman, I’d like you to talk to Ms Phillips once you’re done. DS Olbeck, go and see how the search is progressing. I want the neighbours questioned before too long.”

The house was newly built, probably less than ten years old. It was a sprawling low building, cedar-clad and white-rendered, technically built on several different levels but as the ground had been dug away and landscaped around it, the house looked like nothing so much as a very expensive bungalow. Or so Kate thought, walking around the perimeter with Olbeck. They had checked the layout of the bedrooms, noting the distance of the baby’s nursery from the Fullman’s bedroom.

“Why wasn’t the baby in their room?” asked Kate.

Olbeck glanced at her. “Should he have been?”

“I think that’s the standard advice. Everyone I know with tiny babies keeps them in their own bedrooms. Sometimes in their beds. Not stuck down the end of the corridor.”

“I don’t know,” said Olbeck. “The nanny was right next door.”

Dita Olgweisch’s room and the nursery were still sealed off by the Scene of Crime team gathering evidence. Kate stood back for a second to let a SOCO past her, rustling along in white overalls.

“I’ll ask Mrs Fullman when she’s feeling up to it,” she said. “Perhaps there was a simple explanation.”

The view from the terrace was undeniably lovely. The ground dropped steeply away from the decking and the lawn ended in a semi-circle of woodland; beech, ash, and oak trees all stood as if on guard around the grass. Kate could see the movements of the uniformed officers as they carried out their fingertip search. Olbeck came up beside her and they both stood looking out on the scene. Kate wondered if he was thinking what she was thinking – that somewhere out in those peaceful looking woods was a tiny child’s body. Her stomach clenched.

“I’ve never worked on a child case before,” said Olbeck abruptly. Kate turned her head, surprised. “Murder, obviously. But never a child.”

“We don’t know that the baby’s…” Kate didn’t want to finish the sentence.

“I know.” They were both silent for a moment. “I hope you’re right. God, I hope you’re right.”

There didn’t seem to be much else to say. They both had things to do, but for another moment, they stood quietly, side by side, looking out at the swaying, leafless branches of the trees.

**

More books by Celina Grace…

Requiem (A Kate Redman Mystery: Book 2)

The girl’s body lay on the riverbank, her arms outflung. Her blonde hair lay in matted clumps, shockingly pale against the muddy bank. Her face was like a porcelain sculpture that had been broken and glued back together: grey cracks were visible under the white sheen of her dead skin. Her lips were so blue they could have been traced in ink…

When the body of troubled teenager Elodie Duncan is pulled from the river in Abbeyford, the case is at first assumed to be a straightforward suicide. Detective Sergeant Kate Redman is shocked to discover that she’d met the victim the night before her death, introduced by Kate’s younger brother Jay. As the case develops, it becomes clear that Elodie was murdered. A talented young musician, Elodie had been keeping some strange company and was hiding her own dark secrets.

As the list of suspects begin to grow, so do the questions. What is the significance of the painting Elodie modelled for? Who is the man who was seen with her on the night of her death? Is there any connection with another student’s death at the exclusive musical college that Elodie attended?

As Kate and her partner Detective Sergeant Mark Olbeck attempt to unravel the mystery, the dark undercurrents of the case threaten those whom Kate holds most dear…

Requiem (A Kate Redman Mystery: Book 2) is the second in the Kate Redman Mystery series.
Available from Amazon now
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Imago (A Kate Redman Mystery: Book 3)

“They don’t fear me, quite the opposite. It makes it twice as fun… I know the next time will be soon, I’ve learnt to recognise the signs. I think I even know who it will be. She’s oblivious of course, just as she should be. All the time, I watch and wait and she has no idea, none at all. And why would she? I’m disguised as myself, the very best disguise there is.”
A known prostitute is found stabbed to death in a shabby corner of Abbeyford. Detective Sergeant Kate Redman and her partner Detective Sergeant Olbeck take on the case, expecting to have it wrapped up in a matter of days. Kate finds herself distracted by her growing attraction to her boss, Detective Chief Inspector Anderton – until another woman’s body is found, with the same knife wounds. And then another one after that, in a matter of days.
Forced to confront the horrifying realisation that a serial killer may be preying on the vulnerable women of Abbeyford, Kate, Olbeck and the team find themselves in a race against time to unmask a terrifying murderer, who just might be hiding in plain sight…

Buy
Imago on Amazon
, available now.

Celina Grace’s psychological thriller,
Lost Girls
is also available from Amazon:

Twenty-three years ago, Maudie Sampson’s childhood friend Jessica disappeared on a family holiday in Cornwall. She was never seen again.

In the present day, Maudie is struggling to come to terms with the death of her wealthy father, her increasingly fragile mental health and a marriage that’s under strain. Slowly, she becomes aware that there is someone following her: a blonde woman in a long black coat with an intense gaze. As the woman begins to infiltrate her life, Maudie realises no one else appears to be able to see her.

Is Maudie losing her mind? Is the woman a figment of her imagination or does she actually exist? Have the sins of the past caught up with Maudie’s present...or is there something even more sinister going on?

Lost Girls
is a novel from the author of The House on Fever Street: a dark and convoluted tale which proves that nothing can be taken for granted and no-one is as they seem.

Currently available on Amazon
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The House on Fever Street
is the first psychological thriller by Celina Grace.

Thrown together in the aftermath of the London bombings of 2005, Jake and Bella embark on a passionate and intense romance. Soon Bella is living with Jake in his house on Fever Street, along with his sardonic brother Carl and Carl’s girlfriend, the beautiful but chilly Veronica.

As Bella tries to come to terms with her traumatic experience, her relationship with Jake also becomes a source of unease. Why do the housemates never go into the garden? Why does Jake have such bad dreams and such explosive outbursts of temper?

Bella is determined to understand the man she loves but as she uncovers long-buried secrets, is she putting herself back into mortal danger?

Perfect for fans of Nicci French and Erin Kelly,
The House on Fever Street
is the first psychological thriller from writer Celina Grace - a chilling study of the violent impulses that lurk beneath the surfaces of everyday life.

Shortlisted for the 2006 Crime Writers’ Association Debut Dagger Award.

Currently available on Amazon
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