Authors: Rhys Bowen
Evan's Gate (19 page)
“That could be a flower petal there,” Henry pointed out.
“Yes, maybe.” Mrs. Bosley-Thomas nodded. “Oh, dear. This is even harder than I thought,” she said. “I thought we’d know. The loose tooth and the clothing seem to be right, but we still don’t
know,
not one hundred percent. And I’ll never rest until we do know. Isn’t there some test they can do these days?”
know,
not one hundred percent. And I’ll never rest until we do know. Isn’t there some test they can do these days?”
“There is DNA testing, but it takes time and it’s expensive.”
“Expense is of no consequence,” Hugh said briskly. “If you
need us to pay for the DNA testing, then we’ll pay. My—Sarah’s mother is right. We do need to know one hundred percent.”
need us to pay for the DNA testing, then we’ll pay. My—Sarah’s mother is right. We do need to know one hundred percent.”
“Then let me arrange to have samples taken from Mrs. Bosley-Thomas and her children. We always use the maternal DNA to make the match. If the rest of you would like to wait in my office?”
Evan held the door open as Hugh pushed Val and Nick through before him then commandeered the one good chair in the office. Val remained in the hallway, staring down the stairs. Evan went to stand beside him.
“I don’t suppose I’m allowed to smoke in a lab building, am I?” Val asked.
“I don’t suppose you are,” Evan said.
“Damn. I need a cigarette.”
“This has been getting to you then?”
“Well, of course it has; what do you think?” Val snapped. “I had managed to put it out of my mind. I hadn’t thought about it for years and now we have to go through it all again. Bloody kid. Just the annoying kind of thing she would have done.”
“Got herself killed, on purpose?”
Val gave a half laugh. “No, I didn’t really mean that, but she was good at getting her own way, wasn’t she? And she was quite good at paying people back.”
Evan looked up, startled. “What do you mean?”
“She was annoyed when Henry wouldn’t take her home. I’ve always thought she got herself lost deliberately so that Henry got into trouble.”
Evan continued to stare. “What exactly happened that day? I’ve never really known.”
“You weren’t with us? No, of course you weren’t. We were playing capture the castle as usual. Sarah announced that she was hot and tired and wanted to go home. We were all having a good time, and we weren’t ready to leave. Henry told her to go down to the big oak tree and wait for us in the shade. We’d left a bottle of water there. When we finished the game and came down to the tree, there was no sign of her. We naturally assumed she had gone
home without us. Henry was angry, but I think it was because he was sure he’d get in trouble. We ran all the way down to the house, but she wasn’t there.”
home without us. Henry was angry, but I think it was because he was sure he’d get in trouble. We ran all the way down to the house, but she wasn’t there.”
“So you were all playing capture the castle together, and Sarah went down to the oak tree by herself? Nobody took her?”
“No. Nobody wanted to stop playing because Henry and Nick and I had each won twice. It was going to be winner take all.”
“And who was king?”
“Nick.”
“So Nick was up in the castle.” Evan processed this thought. That meant that Val and Suzanne and Henry were spread out, hiding on the slopes. Any one of them could have slipped away for a few moments and not be noticed. He shuddered at the absurdity of what he was thinking, and Val picked up on it instantly.
“You don’t think it was one of us, do you?”
“No, of course not,” Evan said. “None of you would have had the opportunity, or the strength, to take her over the mountain all the way to Llanfair.”
“Henry was pretty strong,” Val said, still staring down the stairwell, “and he often went up into the hills with Grandfather to help with the sheep.”
“Well, that wasn’t too bad.” Suzanne emerged from the lab. “They only took a saliva sample. I thought they were going to have to take blood.”
She smiled at Evan and came to stand beside him on the landing. “Do you think they’ll ever find out what happened to her?”
“I hope so,” Evan said.
“That American woman says there’s no way to know how she died—just that somebody laid her out nicely. It’s horrible not knowing, isn’t it? I’ve had nightmares about it all these years—Sarah’s face coming back to haunt me again and again.”
“Did she tell you anything in your dreams?” Val looked up with interest.
Suzanne shrugged. “Nothing that ever made sense. I remember she said she couldn’t play capture the castle with us anymore
because the castle was upside down—garbled nonsense like that.”
because the castle was upside down—garbled nonsense like that.”
“Do you want to sit down?” Evan asked. “There are chairs in Dr. Telesky’s office.”
“Is my father in there?”
Evan nodded.
“Then I’ll stand, thanks.”
“You two don’t get along very well, I take it?”
“Don’t get along is an understatement,” Suzanne said. “He hates my guts.”
“Why?”
“It’s obvious, isn’t it?” she said bitterly. “He thinks I’m to blame.”
The lab door opened and Mrs. Thomas came out, still leaning on her son for support. “Well, that’s over. Not too terrible, was it, Suzie? Now let’s go and get something to eat, shall we? I need to be fortified.”
“I think Grandfather was expecting us back at the house for a late lunch,” Henry said. “Are you sure you won’t come and say hello?”
“Not if your father’s going to be there.”
“Mother—it all happened years ago. Isn’t this a good time to get over the past and start moving on?”
“Do you think I can ever forgive him for what he did?” she asked. “He wrecked our lives. All our lives.”
“Why don’t you at least stay the night, Aunt Margaret?” Val asked. “Nick and I haven’t seen you for years, and Nick goes back to Canada in a few days. We’ll treat you to dinner at the Everest Inn. The food’s damned good.”
“The Everest Inn?” She looked inquiringly at Evan.
“It’s a new five-star hotel on the Llanberis Pass,” Evan said.
“And you can drive down with me tomorrow, Mummy—that will save you from taking the train,” Suzanne said.
“In your old bone shaker? Do you think it will make it all the way down the M6?”
“It made it up here,” Suzanne said. “It’s quite a good little car, actually.”
“If you don’t want Suzanne to drive you, I’ve got my Beemer,” Val said. “She’ll do a hundred and ten when nobody’s watching. Get you back to London in a couple of hours.”
Mrs. Bosley-Thomas looked from Val to Suzanne. “Thank you, Val dear, but I think I’ll risk the bone shaker. It will give Suzanne and I a chance to talk. We see each other so seldom these days.”
“Only because you won’t come to Clapham, and it’s hard for me to get away.”
“Of course I won’t come to Clapham. I don’t know what possessed you to move to such a racially mixed area. I feared for my life the moment I left the tube station.”
“I have to live where I can afford the rent, Mother.”
“I’m surprised old whatshisname hasn’t set you up with a nice flat by Regent’s Park,” Henry said.
Suzanne shot him a look of pure venom. “My private life has nothing to do with you. And be careful, or I’ll swing the conversation around to the lovely Camilla.”
“Children, please—and with your sister lying on that table, too.” Mrs. Bosley-Thomas stepped between them.
Evan stood unnoticed, studying them. If ever there was a dysfunctional family, then this was it. Hate and blame were flying in all directions. And then there was Val, leaning lazily on the landing rail—Val who was an artist who drove a BMW and stayed at the Everest Inn.
Evan managed to make a graceful retreat from the lab at the same time as the Thomases, rather than risk finding himself alone again with Dr. Telesky.
Nick Thomas fell into step beside him. “The little girl that’s missing—any luck yet?”
“Not so far. We’re going to London to try and find out more about the father tomorrow.”
“Another child is missing?” Mrs. Bosley-Thomas turned around, almost stumbling down the stairs.
“Yes, and they say she looked like Sarah,” Nick told her.
“Oh, my God. You don’t think”—she looked appealingly at Evan—“you don’t think there’s any connection, do you? But that’s absurd. How can there be? Twenty-five years ago? It can’t be the same person. It absolutely can’t.”
She reached out blindly to grab Henry’s arm and let him lead her like a blind woman across the car park and into his car. Evan wondered if he’d persuade her to go to the farm with them after all. And by tomorrow most of them would be gone. He felt frustration boiling up inside him at his limitations as a detective. A good detective would know how to have questioned them subtly, to have observed their body language, and thus to have deduced if any of them was guilty.
He ran through them in his mind as he got into his own car. Henry, who had been Sarah’s main protector; Val, who managed to live very well and looked at life through cynic’s eyes; affable, easygoing Nick; and sharp-tongued, highly strung Suzanne. Did any of them really believe that one of the others was responsible? If not, then why did those sideways glances dart between them? Why were they so much on edge?
Glynis Davies was sitting at the computer as Evan came into the Caernarfon police station.“Any news?” he asked.
She shook her head. “I’ve been following up on the last sightings and so far nothing. Oh, we’ve located the Germans, by the way, but it seems they’re in the clear. Nothing but clothes and camping equipment in their car. And their brush with the law was during an anti-immigrant rally.”
“Neo-Nazis?”
“Could be, but they were only arrested for blocking a public street, not for violence or antiracial attacks.”
“Then why did they make such a hurried escape when they heard about the missing child?”
Glynis shrugged. “They weren’t asked that. But we’ll keep tabs on them until they leave the country.”
“So we’re still getting nowhere.” Evan pulled out a chair and sat beside her.
“So it would seem.”
Evan glanced around before he said, “Look, Glynis, would you do me a favor? Could you run a background check on the Thomases? I don’t really see how one of them can be involved, but they
are really nervous and I just get the feeling that they are keeping things from me.”
are really nervous and I just get the feeling that they are keeping things from me.”
“Shouldn’t you clear this with the D.I. first?” Glynis smiled.
“You know what he’ll say—that we don’t do anything until we’ve located Sholokhov. But the Thomases leave the area tomorrow, and I’d just like to be one jump ahead.”
“One jump ahead got you in trouble this morning.”
Evan grinned. “I know. Am I imagining things or is D.I. Watkins going through a personality change and transforming into another Hughes?”
“He’s under a lot of strain, Evan. Don’t forget, he’s got a daughter of his own. He’s personalizing this whole thing more than we suspect.”
Evan nodded. “Right. Yes, I suppose he would. I didn’t think of that.”
“So what came out of the autopsy? Did they identify her?”
“Not positively, but they’re doing a DNA match, and everything pointed to its being Sarah—clothing scraps, shoes, blonde hairs.”
“Poor little kid. Poor family. How horrible for them. No wonder they’re jumpy. It’s making them go through the whole thing again, isn’t it?”
“I’d just like to be sure it’s nothing more than that,” Evan said. “I couldn’t tell whether they were dropping hints when they spoke to me. It was almost as if they suspected each other.”
Glynis looked up with a sigh. “All right. Tell you what. Give me their names and addresses, and I’ll see what turns up when the D.I.’s not around.”
Exactly on cue the door opened and D.I. Watkins came in. “What are you conspirators muttering about now?” he asked, looking at their guilty faces.
“Nothing, sir. Just talking,” Glynis said quickly. “I’ve gone through the last of the sightings and turned up nothing so far. The one in Cardiff that looked hopeful—they’ve located him. A Norwegian man and his daughter. They live nearby.”
“Blast.” Watkins slapped his fist into his palm. “Let’s hope we find out something useful finally when we go down to London tomorrow. What about you, Evans? How did the anthropologist go?”
“They weren’t able to make an absolute identification. No dental records, you see. They’ve taken DNA samples from the mother and siblings, but it seems pretty certain that it is her—plenty of clues.”
“Did you pick up any clues of your own?” Watkins asked.
“I’m not sure, sir. A couple of times it seemed as if someone was dropping me a hint and there was some accusing going on, but that might just have been because it was stressful for them.”
“So do you think we should still keep them in mind and do any additional follow-up on them?”
“It might be worth running a background check on them, just in case.” Evan looked away so that he didn’t meet Glynis’s eyes. “Just to see if anything strange comes up.”
“By all means. What have we got to lose at this stage?” Watkins said.
“And I’d also like to talk to the old shepherd who used to own the cottage when Sarah was buried there. He may be quite gaga by now, but I think we should at least speak to him.”
“He’s still alive, is he?”
“He was quite recently. Lives with his daughter in Bangor.”
“Then we should definitely talk to him right away. It better be you because I’m sure he’s Welsh speaking, and you know my Welsh isn’t too wonderful. Oh, and Evans, I think you might have another word with Mrs. Sholokhov before we go tomorrow. Find out all you can about where they lived, who they knew, where the husband hung out—anything to put us on the right track.”
“Right-o, sir. I’ll start right away, if you don’t need me here.”
“Bloody useless here, aren’t you?” Watkins said with a grin.
He decided to get Mrs. Sholokhov over first so that he could devote enough time to interviewing Rhodri. He also put a call in
to HQ to see if Rhodri had any kind of police record. Then he took the A487 cutting across the fields and farmland of the lower Lleyn Peninsula to the seaside town of Criccieth, past the ruins of the old castle and on down the coast toward the caravan park. A shower had just passed through, leaving behind a dazzlingly bright afternoon. The sky seemed to be a dome of blue glass over mountains so clear that Evan felt he could pick out every tree and rock on them. One lone cloud clung to the summit of Cader Idris to the south, sitting on top like a jaunty white beret. A stiff wind blew from the sea, making holidaymakers along the esplanade at Criccieth walk with anorak hoods up and backs to the wind. Just the sort of day he liked to spend outdoors.
to HQ to see if Rhodri had any kind of police record. Then he took the A487 cutting across the fields and farmland of the lower Lleyn Peninsula to the seaside town of Criccieth, past the ruins of the old castle and on down the coast toward the caravan park. A shower had just passed through, leaving behind a dazzlingly bright afternoon. The sky seemed to be a dome of blue glass over mountains so clear that Evan felt he could pick out every tree and rock on them. One lone cloud clung to the summit of Cader Idris to the south, sitting on top like a jaunty white beret. A stiff wind blew from the sea, making holidaymakers along the esplanade at Criccieth walk with anorak hoods up and backs to the wind. Just the sort of day he liked to spend outdoors.
The caravan park still had a deserted air about it. Evan suspected that all the publicity about the missing child wouldn’t have done much for future bookings either. He parked outside and went in through a gap in the hedge. When he reached the small caravan, he was surprised to find nobody there. He peeked in through the window. The interior was completely neat and clean as if it was unoccupied. It seemed as if Shirley Sholokhov had also vanished. He was alarmed at this train of thought and broke into a run as he crossed the meadow, almost bumping into the large, muscular form of Richard Gwynne, who was coming toward him carrying a box full of rusty auto parts.
“Watch out!” he yelled, as Evan swerved to avoid him. “Where’s the fire?”
“Oh, hello,” Evan said. “I’ve just been to Mrs. Sholokhov’s caravan, and she’s gone. Any idea what happened to her?”
“Don’t ask me. I mind my own business, mate. Ask the old bat at the office. She likes to know everything about everybody.”
“Right. Thanks.”
Evan was about to move on when Gwynne called after him, “So they didn’t find the little girl yet?”
“No, not yet. We’re still looking.”
“I don’t expect they’ll find her. They never know where to look, do they?”
“We think she’s with her father. We’ll locate him soon.”
“Good luck.” Gwynne nodded and stomped on his way.
Evan stared after him for a moment, then went to Mrs. Paul’s bungalow. In response to the bell, she came to the office window, a startling apparition in a voluminous purple muumuu that contrasted violently with her orange hair.
“Hello, love,” she said, her face breaking into a smile as she recognized Evan. “Is there any news yet?”
Evan shook his head. “I’m afraid not. We’re going to London tomorrow to see if we can find out any more about the child’s father.”
“You won’t find him there, love.” Mrs. Paul gave him a pitying smile. “He’s gone back to Russia, sure as eggs are eggs and bacon’s bacon.”
“We’ve had an alert out at all the ports of exit, and there’s been no sign of him.”
Again the pitying smile. “He won’t have used his own name, love, Shirley said. You can buy passports, two a penny, if you know where to look. He knew all the fiddles, Shirley said. He and his foreign mates. Crooked as bent pins they were.”
“And where is Shirley?” Evan asked.
The woman’s face clouded. “She’s gone, love. Gone home.”
“When was this?”
“This morning. You just missed her.”
“She went home without telling the police?”
“Oh no, she said she was going to stop in at the police station on her way past. She said it was giving her the willies staying there alone in that little van, and I don’t blame her. Hardly room to breathe in there, so I invited her to stay in my spare room, but I could understand that she’d rather be at home, in familiar surroundings, at a time like this.”
“You mean back to Leeds? Is that her home?”
“I’m not sure that she actually comes from there.”
“Does she have relatives living nearby, do you know?”
“She has an auntie somewhere in Yorkshire, and she shares her place with a good friend, she said.”
“Ah.” Evan digested these facts. “You don’t think anything happened to make her decide to leave suddenly, do you?”
“Just depression, I expect, love. She couldn’t take all the waiting and not knowing—and it’s not the same when you’re in strange surroundings, is it? You need your own things around you at times like this. I remember how comforting it was to come home to my own armchair after I’d been to visit my husband at the hospital. How about a nice cup of tea? I was just going to put the kettle on.”
“No thanks, this time,” Evan said. “I’ve got a lot to do today.”
His mind was racing as he left the bungalow and squeezed through the gap in the hedge to his car. What had made Shirley Sholokhov up and leave without telling anyone? If it had been his child, he wouldn’t have wanted to leave the place where she vanished, not until he knew 100 percent that she wasn’t there. The word “Russian” played over in his mind. Sholokhov had fled to England because he had upset the Russian Mafia. Evan had heard enough about the Russian Mafia to know that they made the Cosa Nostra look like pussycats. Had they somehow caught up with Sholokhov and taken his daughter in punishment or as a hostage to make sure he came back to Russia? Were they somehow threatening Shirley Sholokhov so that she feared to tell the truth?
He picked up his mobile and dialed Inspector Watkins.
“I thought you’d want to know, sir. Mrs. Sholokhov has hopped it—gone home to Leeds, so the caravan park owner says.”
“Bloody hell. Did she say why?”
“Got fed up with being stuck in a little caravan, so the woman says.”
“So she ups and goes without telling us?”
“That’s what I thought. I’m just wondering if there’s more to it than that.”
“Like what?”
“I’m wondering whether Shirley Sholokhov knows more than
she’s willing to tell us. Her husband fled from Russia to get away from the Mafia, supposedly. Is it possible they’ve caught up with him, and they’re using his daughter as bait?”
she’s willing to tell us. Her husband fled from Russia to get away from the Mafia, supposedly. Is it possible they’ve caught up with him, and they’re using his daughter as bait?”
“Possible, I suppose. Well, that does put a new angle on things, doesn’t it? I suppose we ought to pay our Shirley a visit at home in Leeds after we’ve checked out her husband’s haunts in London. Have you talked to your shepherd yet?”
“I’m on my way there right now.”
He pushed the end call button and found himself entering the outskirts of Porthmadog. As he passed the police station on the high street, he decided to stop, just in case Mrs. Sholokhov had told the officers there that she was going home and nobody had bothered to report this fact to the plainclothes branch.
His nemesis, Constable Roberts, was sitting at the duty desk. “Hello, Evans. Been caught raiding any more dustbins lately?” he asked, with a broad grin on his face.
“No, the other officers seem to be able to tell a copper from a crook.” He had longed to say something like this to Roberts for ages. Now he realized that he was a detective constable and Roberts wasn’t. He didn’t have to take any more rubbish from him.
Roberts laughed at the reply, then quickly became serious again. “No news on the little girl yet, I take it?”
“No good news. She’s been sighted all over the country, of course, but none of the sightings has panned out so far. The only surprise is that her mother has upped and left without telling us. I just wondered whether she told anybody here.”
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