Hidden Depths (22 page)

‘You couldn’t be pathetic. Never.’

‘I should be strong for Laura.’

He thought he could hear the echo of her mother’s words in the phrase. He didn’t know what to say. He wasn’t sure what he thought of Laura, skinny and long legged. There was something about her which reminded him of Emily and he found that disconcerting. Behind the blinds the window was open. The bairns in the street were playing a skipping game, chanting. He hadn’t heard anything like it recently. It was years since he’d seen girls skip. Perhaps one of the guardian mothers had taught it to them, dredging the rhyme out of her memory. It took him back to Seaton primary school, running round the playground with Julie Richardson, playing kiss chase on the green when nobody was looking. Perhaps she was having the same thoughts, because she joined in with the words.

‘. . . I never should, play with the gypsies in the wood.’

She stopped suddenly. Outside, the rhyme continued without her.

If I did, she would say . . .

‘I feel so stupid,’ he said. ‘Just sitting here. Nothing to say. Helpless.’

She squeezed his hand. ‘No,’ she said. ‘You’re helping. Honestly.’

‘I wasn’t sure whether I should come.’

Then she did something unexpected. She pulled him down to her and kissed him. A real deep kiss, pushing her tongue into his mouth, against his teeth, down his throat. He held her tight against him, felt her breasts soft against his chest, the beginnings of desire. Despite himself. Knowing that nothing could happen. Not with her daughter and mother in the house. Not while she was so screwed up. But singing inside, because in the end it would work out. All those dreams he’d had about her since meeting up with her again. Luke wouldn’t get in the way of that.

He pushed her gently away from him, stroked her cheek, bent and kissed her hair at the parting, where he could see the darker roots. She was crying.

‘Oh God,’ she said. ‘I’m sorry.’

He knew he shouldn’t feel like this. He should be sad because she was sad. ‘Nothing to be sorry about.’ He kept his voice serious, low. Low voices were sexy, weren’t they? ‘Do you want to talk about Luke? I mean, I never met him, but if you want someone to talk to . . .’ Behind her back he twisted his wrist so he could see his watch. He had to be back at the Sage for eight-thirty.

‘No,’ she said. ‘I’ve done nothing but talk about Luke for days. To the police, Mam, my mates. I wanted to forget about him. Just for a minute. I wanted to see if I could.’

‘Could you?’

‘Not really.’ She smiled. Not quite the old Julie smile. ‘But I enjoyed trying.’

There was a noise at the door. He was expecting her mother again but it was Laura. She stood just inside the room, staring at them. Gary moved along the sofa so there was some distance between them.

‘Laura went to school today,’ Julie said, in a horrible, bright voice. ‘I thought that was dead brave. How was it, pet?’

‘All right. The teachers were nice. There was an assembly about it. About Luke and that. They said I didn’t have to go.’

‘Did you?’

‘Nah. But I waited outside and I could hear what they were saying. It was all crap. I mean, it wasn’t like they were talking about Luke at all. You wouldn’t have known it was him they were talking about.’

‘Nice, though, for them to remember him, to pay their respects.’

Laura looked as if she was about to say something rude and dismissive, but she kept her mouth shut.

‘This is Gary,’ Julie said. ‘He’s an old friend. We were in the primary together.’

It was as if Laura hadn’t heard. ‘Nan says tea’s nearly ready.’

Gary stood up. ‘I should get off.’

‘Why don’t you stay?’ Julie said. ‘Have something to eat with us?’

But he could tell she was back in coma mode. She was just going through the motions.

‘I’m working tonight,’ he said. ‘A gig at the Sage.’

He started towards the door. He wondered if she’d rouse herself from the couch to see him out, but she seemed lost in thought again. It was Laura who opened the door to let him out. The kids stopped their game to stare and the women on the steps looked up from their magazines. He expected the girl to be intimidated by the attention. He found it difficult to handle himself. He wanted to shout at them:
What do you think you’re looking at?
He thought Laura would shut the door on him immediately and hurry inside. But she didn’t. She was still standing there while he got into the van and drove away.

Tuesday morning. Vera had called the team together for an early meeting. Charlie looked as if he’d slept at his desk; certainly he hadn’t shaved. Joe had Ready Brek down the front of his shirt. Only Holly seemed awake and alive. Looking at her, so fit and bonny, Vera felt a horrible, destructive envy. Even when she was young, she’d never looked like that. When she arrived they were all sitting round a table. Joe was talking about Clive Stringer.

‘What about him?’ she said, coming in at the tail end of the conversation.

‘If we’re looking for a nutter, he’s pretty weird.’

Is he? Vera thought. She’d grown up with several odd young men like that. Loners, obsessives. Acolytes of her father.

‘I mean, he spends all day with his hand up a dead bird’s bum, no friends apart from the group at Fox Mill, no girlfriend.’

Vera wondered if Joe would describe her as a nutter. She didn’t have many friends either.

‘What’s his motive?’ she asked.

‘I don’t know. Maybe he came on to Lily and she rejected him?’

‘We’d need some proof that they met. And that doesn’t explain Luke.’

‘Envy, then? They were attractive and young. Perhaps that was enough for him.’

‘There’s no evidence,’ she said. ‘Nothing. And he doesn’t have transport.’

‘He has a driving licence. Nothing to stop him borrowing a car.’

‘Who from?’ Vera demanded. ‘You said yourself he has no friends.’

‘He could steal one, hire one.’

‘Aye,’ she conceded. ‘He could. Check the car-hire places. They’d remember him.’

‘We should talk to his mother too.’

‘Of course,’ she said, only just keeping her temper. ‘But we’ll keep an open mind.’

Joe shut up then and she had the sense that he was sulking. He thought she’d worked with him long enough to realize he’d not need telling that. Quite often he was the one who had to keep her on track.

‘All right,’ she said. ‘What else have we got?’ Implying, give me something useful. Not speculation or prejudice. She kept her voice calm. This wasn’t a time for panic, though they should have a suspect by now. As they sat she was aware again of time passing, the possibility that these were random killings with no understandable motive, that they’d find another beautiful young person drowned and dressed in flowers.

Charlie shifted in his chair, cleared his throat in a way that reminded Vera of winos in doorways about to spit. It made her want to gag.

‘I’ve found out where Lily’s rent came from.’

‘Where?’

‘A building society account in her own name. The North of England. There was a passbook in the stuff the search team found in her room. She got a cheque made out from that once a month.’

‘What went into it? Her wages from the dress shop?’

‘Nah, I told you. They were paid direct into her current account.’ He leaned back in his chair. Vera wanted to scream at him to get on with it. ‘She paid in five hundred pounds every six weeks or so.’ He paused again. ‘Cash.’

‘Where would she get that sort of money?’

He shrugged. ‘Maybe she did a bit of high-class soliciting on the side. Some students do. So I understand.’

Another occasion there might have been sniggers.
How would you know about that, Charlie?
But they must have realized Vera wouldn’t appreciate the humour.

Vera thought of the clothes in Lily’s wardrobe, the expensive lingerie, the clothes that had the air of fancy dress. ‘I suppose it’s possible. Take a photo to some of the likely hotels in town. See if anyone recognizes her.’

Holly raised her forearm from the table. A polite student with a point to make.

‘Yes?’ Vera hoped her impatience didn’t show.

‘Or she could have a rich lover . . .’

‘Any evidence of that?’

‘I spoke to her flatmates.’

‘They told me there
was
no one.’ Vera could tell she sounded defensive, couldn’t stop herself. ‘At least, if there was, they knew nothing about him.’

‘They were embarrassed to admit they listened in to one of Lily’s phone calls. There’s an extension in the kitchen. It only happened once. They were just desperate to know what was going on. I knew they would be; I mean, it’s only natural, isn’t it? I pushed them on it a bit. Lily was ringing out. They picked up the kitchen phone and listened in.’

‘And?’

‘No details,’ Holly said. ‘Nothing useful, like a name. Not even proof that she was having an affair with him. They think she must have suspected they were listening because she ended the call very quickly.’

‘What
did
they get?’

‘An older man. Educated, well spoken. An arrangement to meet for dinner.’

‘That could have been anything. A relative. Colleague. Boss from the shop.’

‘It doesn’t sound like a relative,’ Joe said. ‘If there’d been anyone like that in the family you’d have thought Phyllis would have mentioned him. Bragged, like.’

‘I don’t suppose they did anything useful,’ Vera said. ‘Like follow her and see what he looked like.’

Holly grinned. ‘Nah. They were tempted to book a table in the same restaurant, but they’re well-brought-up lasses. Thought it wouldn’t be right to spy on her.’

‘I hate well-brought-up lasses,’ Vera said.

‘Luckily the women she worked with in the dress shop weren’t so picky.’

Vera smiled slowly. She thought perhaps she could take to Holly after all. ‘What did you get from them?’

‘Nothing exciting,’ Holly admitted. ‘I mean, nothing really useful. But confirmation that the meetings with the older man weren’t about a family connection or to do with work. She did talk a bit more freely with the girls in the shop. I think she felt more easy with them. She liked the idea of sharing the posh Jesmond flat with the classy southerners, but they didn’t have much in common.’

‘Tell me.’

Holly pulled out a small notebook, covered with her open schoolgirl writing. A swat wanting to impress.

‘About six months ago she came into work wearing a new ring. Opal and silver. Antique. She said it was a present. He’d bought it when they were out for the day in York. It was the first time they’d spent the night together—’

Vera interrupted. ‘Did they get the name of the hotel?’

‘No. But one of them could remember what Lily had said about it. “That’s the great thing about going out with someone a bit older. They know how to do things properly.” They asked her how old he was, but she wouldn’t say. “You wouldn’t understand.” One of them asked if he was old enough to be her father. She hadn’t answered but she’d laughed so they guessed he probably was.’

‘They never saw him?’

‘No. Like I said, nothing really useful.’

‘Oh believe me, pet. There’s plenty useful here. Dig out the ring. Charlie, is it in the stuff the search team brought in?’

‘I don’t think so.’

‘Check again. I don’t remember seeing anything like that in the flat, but it must have been there. Then someone can have a fun day out in York, visiting the antique shops and the jewellers. Unless her mysterious lover paid for it by cash, we’ve a reasonable chance of tracking him down. And let’s have someone on the phone to all the decent hotels.’

‘Isn’t it obvious?’ Joe said.

‘What do you mean?’ Vera turned on him.

‘We heard from Peter Calvert’s students that he was having it off with a younger woman.’

‘We heard there was a rumour going round,’ she said. ‘Nothing definite and no proof. And even if the rumour was true there are a fair few bonny young students in Newcastle for him to choose from. Doesn’t mean it was Lily Marsh.’

Besides, she thought, Peter Calvert isn’t the only older man floating around the edge of this case. There’s Samuel Parr. Lily had a Northumberland Libraries ticket, could have bumped into him too. And if I had to choose between Peter Calvert and Samuel Parr, I know which one I’d go for every time. And the elaborate crime scenes were much more Parr’s style. But she didn’t say anything to the team. She kept her suspicion to herself. A private pleasure. A possibility to surprise them at the end of the case. If she turned out to be right.

She realized they were looking at her, waiting for her to continue. ‘Well?’ she demanded. ‘Anything else?’

Joe leaned across the table towards her. ‘I’ve tracked down Ben Craven.’

She knew the name should mean something to her, but it didn’t. He watched her. She could tell he was pleased with himself.
You’re getting a bit smug for my liking.