Copyright © M K Turner

This edition published 2025 by 127 Publishing

The rights of M K Turner to be identified as the author of this work have been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise without the permission of the publisher.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed are entirely the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or events is entirely co-incidental.

Paperback ISBN 978-1-0686749-6-9

Hardback ISBN 978-1-0686749-7-6

This book is dedicated to my wonderful readers.

Many of whom take the time to write to me, most giving me something to laugh about. Thank you for giving me a reason to keep making stuff up with a smile on my face.

Acknowledgements

Edited by Sharon Kelly & Jill Buss

Cover by: https://www.behance.net/lwpmarshala1e9

Cover Photography: Beauty in the Broken by @xrosspurposes https://xrosspurposes.com

And of course my wonderful beta readers

Contents

1. Chapter One

2. Chapter Two

3. Chapter Three

4. Chapter Four

5. Chapter Five

6. Chapter Six

7. Chapter Seven

8. Chapter Eight

9. Chapter Nine

10. Chapter Ten

11. Chapter Eleven

12. Chapter Twelve

13. Chapter Thirteen

14. Chapter Fourteen

15. Chapter Fifteen

16. Chapter Sixteen

17. Chapter Seventeen

18. Chapter Eighteen

19. Chapter Nineteen

20. Chapter Twenty

21. Chapter Twenty-One

22. Chapter Twenty-Two

23. Chapter Twenty-Three

24. Chapter Twenty-Four

25. Chapter Twenty-Five

26. Chapter Twenty-Six

27. Chapter Twenty-Seven

28. Chapter Twenty-Eight

From the Author

Meredith & Hodge Series

The Making of Meredith

Misplaced Loyalty

Ill Conceived

The Wrong Shoes

Tin Soldiers

One Secret Too Many

Mistaken Beliefs

Quite by Chance

Family Matters

Not If You Paid Me

A Measure of Guilt

Meredith & Hodge Bear Witness

Web of Deceit

Error of Judgement

Chance Encounters

Enough

Gone

A Fatal Assumption

Bearing Witness Series

Witness for Wendy

An Unexpected Gift

Terms of Affection

Meredith & Hodge Bear Witness

Little Compton Mysteries

The Murder

The Abduction

The Burglar

JJ Jenson Series

An Ill Wind

To Kill Two Bird

Too Many Times

Others

Who Killed Charlie Birch?

The Cuban Conundrum

Murderous Mishaps

The Recruitment of Lucy James

Chapter One

“Christine Hawker had been preparing her children’s breakfast when she vanished. There were no clues as to what happened to her, except perhaps the smear of blood on the door which led to the back garden. Her handbag had gone, but her keys were still on the hook. Her slippers were on the stand in the hall, and her work shoes had gone but not her coat.

“The children’s packed lunches were made, and the boxes stacked with their water bottles on the corner of the breakfast bar next to her phone. Glasses of orange juice stood next to the bowls and spoons, laid out ready for the porridge, which slowly burned in the saucepan on the hob.

“When husband Mike Hawker got up that morning, everything had been normal. When he came out of the bathroom, the kids were arguing. Christine was shouting at them to come and have breakfast, and he didn’t have a shirt ironed for work. Normal. Silently cursing, he’d gone to the spare bedroom, pulled out the ironing board from the side of the wardrobe, and plugged in the iron.

“A piercing scream had him running into Oscar’s bedroom, only to find out that Charlotte had broken Oscar’s latest creation. He spent a few minutes calming the situation and told them to get dressed, giving the warning that anyone not ready by the time he was wouldn’t be going to the circus that weekend. Then he spent another five minutes helping Oscar find his socks, as Oscar argued that it wouldn’t be his fault if he wasn’t ready on time. Mike ended up getting them both dressed, which took, he guessed, another ten minutes. He was tying Charlotte’s laces when the fire alarm went off.

“Assuming it was the iron, he ran back to the spare room telling the kids to go downstairs. They didn’t. The iron was standing in the holder on the end of the board. He licked his fingers and tapped it lightly. The sizzle told him it was on, but it wasn’t the cause of the alarm. Calling the kids again, he leaned over the banister and shouted down to Christine, telling her to flap the tea towel at the alarm, and asking what she’d burnt.

Christine ignored him, or so he thought, and he went to iron his shirt.

“The alarm continued, and losing his temper, he banged the iron down and ran downstairs. Christine wasn’t in the kitchen, so he opened the back door, cursing as he burnt his hand lifting the now blackened remains off the gas, before grabbing a tea towel to flap at the sensor on the ceiling in the hall.

“Oscar was sitting on the stairs with his hands over his ears. Charlotte was nowhere to be seen. Mike went in search of Christine. Quickly establishing she wasn’t in the house, he gave the kids some cereal in front of the television and went next door to Mr Short, their elderly neighbour. At eighty, and recently widowed, Mr Short often came to them for help with things he couldn’t manage, and Mike assumed Christine had popped in there and forgotten the porridge, which he’d dropped into the dustbin on his way to find her. She wasn’t there.

“Back in the house, the kids remained glued to their latest favourite cartoon, and Mike ironed his shirt. He was becoming increasingly irritated with Christine. She was cutting it fine. He had to leave in five minutes. As he came down the stairs, he noticed her slippers on the shoe stand. Christine always changed those as she was leaving the house. He glanced at the key hook. Her keys were there. After a further ten minutes, he called a workmate, explaining the situation, and that he’d have to drop the kids to school so would be late.

“At a little before nine, Mike drove past the frontage of Jacques & Tower, the estate agents where he worked, waving to Simon Clark, who was putting out the swing board. He parked in the carpark at the rear of the building.

“At nine fifteen, Simon went to get Mike, as a client had called and was holding to speak to him. Mike’s car was in the carpark, the driver’s door was open a little, and his phone, which sat in a holder on the dash, was ringing. Mike was nowhere to be seen. Worried about the phone being stolen, Simon took the phone but couldn’t lock the car as the keys weren’t there.

“At nine thirty-five, another call came in on Mike’s phone. The screen showed it to be Chris Work, so Simon answered it, believing it to be Christine. It wasn’t. It was her manager. Christine hadn’t shown up for work and wasn’t answering her phone. Simon explained Mike had disappeared, and he didn’t know where either of them was. He suggested the possibility of a family emergency, as Mike had called that morning with problems at home. They promised to keep in touch with each other but didn’t.

“At four fifteen, the phone rang again. It was the children’s school, asking for Mike as the children hadn’t been picked up. Simon called the police.

“That was March 2012, and despite extensive enquiries, neither has been seen since. The case remained open but hasn’t been worked on since 2020. Mike Hawker’s body was discovered three weeks ago, buried on what was then wasteland, and is shortly to be a new supermarket, near Cribbs Causeway. The digger removed the arm of the corpse, and the work stopped while the remains were recovered. Mike Hawker’s remains were found with a length of rope, which may or may not have been a murder weapon. The hyoid bone was intact, but I’m told that it only breaks in a third of victims. At the moment, we have no cause of death. Pathologists had little to work with but are awaiting some results. Given the burial of the body, and the missing wife, it’s assumed he was murdered, probably strangled. His wallet and car keys were in his trouser pockets.”

DS Louie Trump clicked the remote, and a photograph appeared of a happy family group.

“This was taken at Christmas, three months before they disappeared. Mike Hawker, thirty-five, Christine Hawker, thirty-three, seven-year-old Charlotte, and Oscar, five. This was the last photograph of them all together. As of today, it’s our job to find out what happened to destroy this little family. Yes, Will?”

DC Will Kent dropped his hand. “Are you OIC on this one? I take it we don’t know when the guv will be back?”

“On paper, yes. However, Tom and I will work closely, if he requests action you take it. As to DCI Meredith, he has requested extended leave and been granted it. He will be back. We just don’t know when. So, I’m sure you’ll join me in making certain that we get this right, so everything will be shipshape and Bristol fashion if he returns. That includes finishing up the paperwork on the Brandon Farm case.”

DS Tom Seaton got to his feet and distributed folders.

“The headline stuff. You’ll have the detailed files available by tomorrow morning. As Louie said, we’re hoping the video stuff will follow shortly, but—”

“Sorry to interrupt, Tom, but I need to backtrack. Louie, I just realised that despite the ‘he will be back’ opening, you ended on IF he returns. Is there a chance they won’t be back?” Kent grimaced. “What would happen to the CCRT then?”

The Bristol Cold Case Review Team was still a fledgling department. Hastily pulled together following a restructure, it had so far been a success due to the drive and leadership of DCI John Meredith. He’d handpicked his team, one of whom was Patsy Hodge, his wife. Gerry Deacon, a serial killer they had been hunting, had attacked and almost killed Patsy. Suffering from PTSD, she had left Meredith, believing incorrectly that Deacon must have raped and impregnated her. After several months, Meredith had gone to New Zealand, where she was staying with her brother, to bring her home.

Seaton dropped the file in front of Will. “I’m going to say, yes, there is that chance. For the record, I hope he does return, I hope both of them do. But we all know he was threatening retirement when Patsy was ill. I don’t know how she is now, or even if he’s found her, it might take a while. In the meantime, we have a job to do. I like this job; I’d like to keep it. So, rather than worry about the guv, let’s worry about finding out what happened to the Hawkers. We will be stretched, but we can do it. We’ll prove that this department is viable, with or without them.”

“Well said, Tom. Now, take the files home, have a read through, and let’s hit the ground running tomorrow. Just as we would if DCI Meredith were here. Agreed?”

Trump exchanged a look with Seaton at the half-hearted agreement from the team. Both Trump and Seaton had received the same brief message from Meredith. He’d arrived, he’d yet to make contact with Patsy, and his extended leave had been approved. He had no idea when or even if he’d be back, but they were to carry on as usual, proving the CCRT was both viable and necessary.

With the constant reshuffles, and increasing pressure on police budgets, the department had been given two years to prove its worth, before a review of its value to the public and the police force. They had another eleven months and were now lacking two vital members.

Chapter Two

The next morning, Trump waved the remote at the team. “Everyone settled? Good. The promised recordings have turned up. You can access the others as needed, but before we discuss how we’re going to proceed, Tom and I have chosen these to help concentrate the mind. The first is the Hawker children with their paternal grandfather, Barry Hawker, and child welfare officer, Jenny Lee.”

“Go on in, let’s have a look at these toys.” Sixty-year-old Barry Hawker ushered his grandchildren into the brightly painted room and took a seat. “Look, Oscar, a LEGO set. Bet you could make something good with that.” His smile was brief as Oscar made a beeline for it.

Jenny Lee took a seat near Charlotte, who was rummaging through a box of assorted toys.

“What are you looking for, Lottie?” Jenny asked.

“Dunno. It’s baby stuff in here.” Charlotte looked around. “Can I do a puzzle?”

“Of course, choose one and bring it over here. We can do it together.”

Charlotte picked one and, sitting on the floor in front of Jenny, she opened the box and tipped out the pieces.

“Do you do puzzles at home?” Jenny asked.

“Sometimes. Oscar usually ruins them, though.”

“I do not!” Oscar shouted. “She’s lying, Gramps.”

“Okay, son. No need to shout. Who do you do them with, Lottie?”

“Me. I’m seven now, so I don’t need help. Not like Oscar. All he can do is LEGO.”

“She’s lying again. Mum would be cross. Mum always finds the straight bits for her,” Oscar told his grandfather.

“Yes, but I put them together.” Charlotte looked at Jenny. “Is Mummy coming here? She’ll tell you.”

“I don’t think so. Not sure how long she’s going to be. Did she tell you how long when she left yesterday?”

Charlotte shook her head and held up a piece of the puzzle. “Corner piece. I always find them first.”

“So, when Mummy kissed you goodbye, what did she say?”

“Um, she didn’t.” Charlotte located the last corner.

“Didn’t kiss you goodbye, or didn’t say how long she’d be?” Jenny smiled as Charlotte fitted three pieces together in a row.

“No.”

“Didn’t you see Mummy yesterday morning?”

“No. She’d gone to work.” She looked at her grandfather. “I told you that.”

“I know. So when did you last see her?” Barry asked and then grimaced as Jenny shook her head.

“Why are you asking me about Mummy all the time? Why don’t you ask Oscar or Daddy?”

“I don’t know. She burnt the porridge, so I didn’t see her.” Oscar put his hands over his ears and jiggled about. “The alarm went off, and it was loud. But Daddy let us have cereal in front of the telly.”

“He did.” Charlotte nodded in agreement with her brother and looked at her grandfather. “Mum never lets us watch the telly on school mornings.”

“Who got up first?” Jenny asked.

“Oscar, of course. He always does. Makes Mummy cross sometimes. We’re not allowed to wake them up before the clock says seven 00.”

“Well, that sounds sensible. What time did you get up, Oscar?” Jenny asked.

“I don’t know. It started with six. Daddy scared me. He always does that.” Oscar grinned. “He makes me scream.”

“How does he do that?” Barry Hawker looked concerned.

“He hides under the blanket and when I’m not ready, he does this.” Oscar formed claws with his hands and roared. “It’s scary and funny. Then he grabs me and lets me get in bed.”

“Does that frighten your mummy, too?” Jenny asked.

“No. He doesn’t do it if she’s there. She’d go mad because we’ve got to be quiet until seven 00. Look how high this one is.” He pointed to his tower.

“That’s brilliant. So Mummy wasn’t in bed yesterday?”

“No, she was downstairs burning the porridge.”

“Before seven 00? That was very early. Didn’t you hear her calling you?”

“Nope. Shall I do a blue or red one next?” Oscar asked.

“Red, I think. What about you Lottie, did you hear Mummy calling?”

“No. I stayed in my bed until seven 0 seven.” Charlotte slotted the last piece to complete the frame. “I’m going to do the blue troll first.”

“He’s Biggie. I like him,” Oscar told his sister.

“My favourite is Cooper. Mum likes Poppy.”

“I do too. There’s a piece of his nose.” Jenny handed it to Charlotte who slotted it in place. “So, Mummy went to work really early, and forgot the porridge, is that right?”

“Yes. Dad chucked it in the bin.”

“Okay, so you didn’t see Mummy, and Dad binned the porridge. What happened next?”

“He phoned Uncle Simon and took us to school. But Mum always drops Oscar first and then me. Dad got it wrong, but we didn’t mind. Amber’s got a new backpack. Dad said I could buy one with my birthday money. You can put your water bottle in the side, so it doesn’t get your reading book wet.”

“That sounds marvellous. Was Daddy cross or sad that he was late for work?” Jenny asked.

“No, he played twenty questions with us, but Oscar cheated.” Charlotte threw a glance at her brother. “He’s stupid.”

“I did not,” Oscar protested.

“You did. You had Hulk. He’s not real.” She looked at Jenny and shook her head. “He had poo once. He’s disgusting.”

“Yucky. Who did your daddy say was picking you up when he dropped you off?”

“He didn’t. He said be good, enjoy, have fun, because he always says that.” Charlotte put her hand on her hip. “Do you know Gramps forgot to pick us up? He was sooo late. We had to stay in Mrs Burns’ office. She was nice, she’s not usually, she’s always grumpy, but this time she wasn’t. And she had a packet of biscuits in her drawer.”

“Oh, that’s sounds naughty. Did she let you have one?” Jenny asked.

“Three, and Granny still let us have pudding. We had a sleepover.”

“That sounds like a good day. Mummy went to work early, Daddy didn’t get cross, you got biscuits, pudding and a sleepover. What a happy family. You are a happy family, aren’t you?”

“I suppose. I fight with Oscar sometimes, and Mummy gets cross with Daddy. He says she nags him, and he makes this face and does this.” Charlotte made talking puppets with her hands and pulled her mouth down. “It makes us laugh, doesn’t it, Oscar?”

Oscar nodded, put another brick on his tower and then darted around the room with puppet hands. ‘Nag, nag, nag.’

Trump stopped the recording.

“Nothing of further use was revealed. So, on to this one. This is DC Archer interviewing family friend, and Mike’s work colleague, Simon Clark.”

“Thanks for coming in, Mr Clark. Have a seat. I’d like to run through your statement and get a few more details.”

Simon Clark nodded and tapped the desk. “No problem. I hope I can help. Have you not heard anything from them?”

“Not as yet unfortunately. Let’s start with the call. What time did you hear from Mike?”

Simon checked his phone. “Eight thirty-two.”

“How did he sound? Was he put out that Christine wasn’t there?”

“Not really. I was quite impressed. On the few occasions I’ve had to do the school run, it’s been chaos. Put your shoes on, find your so and so. You know. Never been on time yet.”

“So, he wasn’t angry that she’d just gone without warning?” Archer asked.

“No. Confused. Yes, confused at why she didn’t tell him. I suggested she might have forgotten she had to go in early, or he wasn’t listening when she told him. He said possibly.”

“He said he’d been to see the neighbour, do you know whether the neighbour had seen her leave?”

“No. Mike said he went down to see why the alarm was going off and it was because the porridge was burning. He burnt his fingers taking it off the hob and had to run his fingers under the tap before sorting the alarm out. Said they’d only had the saucepan he binned for a couple of months. As Chris wasn’t there, he went to see if she was next door. They’d been keeping an eye on the old boy since his wife had died. She hadn’t been there, but I doubt Mike would have hung around because the kids were on their own.”

“Did he mention any conversation with Christine at all? When she got up, perhaps?”

“No, he said Oscar had woken him and he had got into bed with him because it was early. When he woke up, Oscar was gone. He didn’t have a shirt ready for work, and Christine was calling the kids to have breakfast. The kids were still upstairs arguing, so he sorted them out and then the fire alarm went off. He thought he’d burnt his shirt, but he went downstairs, and it was the porridge. When he found she wasn’t next door, he assumed she’d gone to work. Hence the call to me.”

“Yet, he wasn’t angry. Surprising that, if my wife did that to me, I’d be fuming. Even if she had told me she was leaving early, and I’d forgotten. To just leave without saying goodbye. What about you?”

“I’d have been worried, because my wife works from home.” Simon shrugged. “We’re all different.”

“So, how did the lunchboxes come into conversation?”

“The lunchboxes?” Simon frowned.

“In your original statement, you said she’d done the lunchboxes and put the breakfast on.”

“Um, I don’t know. Hang on.” Simon frowned as he tried to remember that part of the conversation. “When I said she might have told him, and he’d forgotten, he said, maybe, but she’s done the lunchboxes, and why put the porridge on? Burnt my fingers, etcetera.”

Archer wrote a note and looked back at Simon. “And what did he say about the phone?” He tapped his own phone as he spoke.

“What phone?”

“Christine’s phone was on the breakfast bar when we went to the house.”

“Oh. Odd. She’s always on it. But he didn’t mention it. Look, I’ve got to ask: do you think he’s done something to her?”

“I don’t know, still gathering facts. Should we be considering that?”

“I don’t know. Yes, I suppose, I mean it’s weird, isn’t it, her disappearing and then him dropping off the face of the earth? I don’t want to think that, but what else could it be? Don’t think we’ve had an alien invasion, do you? That said, he’s not the violent type, but…I don’t know. He’s just been Mike. He hasn’t seemed any different. We went out with them a couple of weeks ago, had a good night. Chris was her usual self, all bouncy and loud, Mike was Mike, a good laugh and just normal. So if something has happened, it was very recent. They were loved up, as my wife put it, asking me where the romance had gone for us.” Simon held up his hands. “She was joking. I think. But back to those two, they were good together. Everything had settled down.”

“Settled down, since what?” Archer asked.

“Oh nothing. It was years ago.”

“I’m sure, but I need to know what, to be able to decide if it’s important or not. What happened years ago?”

“We were all working for the same company back then, Giles & Hobbs. Mike had a knee trembler with the accounts girl at the Christmas do. Idiot. They weren’t married then, but pretty serious. Chris didn’t come because she had a stomach bug or something. Anyway, she found out, but she didn’t tell him she had, and she got her own back by sleeping with the boss. Shit hit the fan then. They both ended up leaving, but they stayed together, got married the next year. I think Mike expected me to jump ship too, but we had our first on the way, and I knew with Mike gone there’d be more commission coming my way. It did too.”

“What was the name of the boss?”

“Daniel Hobbs, but it was years ago. He won’t be involved. Better not be. He was a smarmy dickhead. I don’t know how she managed to get past that.” Simon shuddered.

“Have you got a number for him?” Archer asked.

“Yes, but…you’re seriously going to contact him? Yes, okay, but only for the amusement factor. You know, the look on his face when you roll up. He won’t be involved. Trust me.” Simon found the number and read it out for Archer.

“You say Christine was bouncy and loud, what else should we know about her, other than the fact that she managed to sleep with a ‘smarmy dickhead’ to get her own back?”

“Hang on a minute, don’t go putting words in my mouth. Chris was a good girl. We were young. She was pissed off with Mike, but she loved him, and the only way she could have stayed with him was to let him know what would happen if he ever did it again. And he hasn’t.”

“You seem very sure about that.”

“Because I’m his best mate. He would have told me. Even if he didn’t tell me, I’d have known. He’s an open book. Even when he doesn’t say something, you can tell when something’s up. No, I’d have known.”

“And Christine? Is she likely to have had anything going on?” Archer asked.

“I doubt it. I’ve known Chris longer than Mike. She’s a good girl. Great mum and, to the best of my knowledge, a good wife. A faithful one. That said, these days, I only see her about half a dozen times a year. Work, kids, you know. But I’d still say no.”

Archer placed his pen down. “Okay, anything else you think I should know?”

“Like what?” Simon asked.

“Anything, were they in debt, having trouble with the neighbours, experiencing wider family issues? That sort of thing.”

“Not that I know of. Like the rest of us, the money comes in and then it goes out with not much left over, but no. No debt that I know of. And they’ve got a close family, always having dos for one reason or another. Mike would have said. I don’t think there was anything wrong in their lives, no more than the rest of us. Look, I’ll speak to my wife again. We talked of little else last night, and I’ll see if she noticed or heard anything that you’re asking about, although I’m sure she would have said.”

***

Trump stopped the recording.

“As far as I can see, no one spoke to Simon Clark a second time. The theory the previous team was working on was that Mike Hawker killed his wife and then absconded, possibly living abroad, although there was no evidence he’d left the country on a legal passport. Therefore, they were looking for a living man and not another victim. If indeed Christine Hawker was a victim. It might, of course, have been the other way around. We have a tough job ahead of us, and—”

“That’s the understatement of the year. I read the forensic report, and that said Hawker died within a year of going missing, if not immediately. What did the rest of the family have to say?” George Davis asked.

George had been a uniformed sergeant for most of his career and had been the man responsible for recruiting the young Meredith. He’d retired a little while before the CCRT was formed, but had come out of retirement to join them.

“That, George, is what we will find out, both then and now. Daisy has deposited the files on the system, and today we will familiarise ourselves with the witness statements, what the original team achieved, and tomorrow we will come up with a plan of action.”

Linda Trump applauded. “Well done, Louie. Wherever the Skipper is, and whatever he’s doing, he will be proud of you. What do you think he’s doing?”

“I don’t know. But he wouldn’t be happy with us sitting around speculating about it. Time to crack on.”

Chapter Three

Meredith arrived in New Zealand in the early hours of the morning, and exhausted, he booked into an airport hotel. He was asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

When he arose the next morning, he only just managed to make it to breakfast before the restaurant closed. With a full English in front of him, he ran through the emails on his phone. He rarely used his phone to pick up email, but he didn’t want the team to suffer due to his sudden departure. Most were unimportant, and those in need of attention he sent to Linda, to distribute to the most appropriate team member. That dealt with, he could concentrate on Patsy. He lifted the phone to call but banged it back down on the table. Now he was here, he was wondering if he should have warned her first.

Pushing away his half-finished breakfast, he headed outside for a cigarette. He paced along the row of parked cars, considering his next move. He needed advice, so called Patsy’s counsellor, Maxine Selby.

“Meredith, I’ve been expecting your call. I’m surprised it’s taken this long. Have you contacted Patsy?”

“Not yet. I had a plane to catch,” Meredith replied.

“You’re going to tell me you’re in New Zealand, aren’t you?”

“I am. But now I’m here, I’m not sure what to do. Do I phone and tell her I’m coming, or just knock on the door?”

“Neither. Meredith, any meeting must be on Patsy’s terms. You really are the most frustrating man.”

“Yes, so I’ve been told. So, do I ask her to come and see me? Is that what you’re suggesting, because what if she doesn’t?”

“No. Meredith, I think you need…I would suggest that you tell her that you’re there and ask if you can see her when she’s ready. How long are you there for? I fear you might have had a wasted journey. Patsy is very concerned about everything at the moment. If anything, she’s worse than she was when we first started talking.”

Meredith stopped pacing. “How can she be worse? Why is she worse? I don’t understand. I’m sorry, am I boring you?” he asked as Maxine yawned.

“No, Meredith, at the moment you are annoying me. I was on my way to bed, and I now have to explain the frailties of the human mind to you yet again. Not everyone is like you, Meredith, not everyone can take their troubles, doubts and insecurities and bury them under a brusque manner and a cavalier attitude. If I speak to you now, will you listen to me? Will you take heed of what I say?”

“Of course. It’s why I called. Look, I know you think I have issues and believe that you could sort me out but I’m not interested. I can cope with me. The only issue I have is Patsy. The only thing I need help with is Patsy.”

“Did you put quote marks around issues? I am ashamed of myself. Do you know that? I have done something I have never considered doing before, and passed on information to you received in what should have been a confidential consultation, because I thought it would help you. It would calm you. But all I’ve done is put Patsy in danger, and as a result, you, too. Dear God, what a bloody mess.”

Meredith felt as though she had slapped him. “Maxine, I would never put Patsy in danger. You did the right thing. Now my feet are on firm ground and not defying gravity, I’m fine. There is no danger.”

“That you can see. You think you’re the knight in shining armour, who has travelled halfway around the world to prove your love, don’t you? And yes, I can understand that, but you haven’t for one moment considered the impact that will have on Patsy and, as a result, you. I’m sorry, Meredith, this is my fault, and I will try to help you. But you have to listen to what I say and not think you know better.”

Meredith lit another cigarette and blew the smoke heavenward. Maxine was wrong. There was no way he could explain that to her, because she thought she knew him. But as she was actually trying to help him, he’d hear her out, however, if her suggestion was to get back on a plane, he wouldn’t be listening.

“Meredith, are you there?” Maxine sounded exasperated.

“Yes. I was considering what you just said. Carry on. Tell me what you think I should do. But start with telling me how Patsy can be worse now than before she knew the truth.”

“Because she thinks she is going mad. Her words, not mine. Patsy’s problems originally stemmed from the belief that she was destined to lose you. She couldn’t ask you to accept another man’s baby, because she wasn’t prepared to sit around and watch your relationship disintegrate. She couldn’t get rid of the baby because by the time she got her head around the fact she was pregnant, it was a viable being. A child. A child who had done nothing wrong but be conceived.

“For Patsy, leaving you was her best option. Only good memories. To her mind, she did what was best for you, allowing you to move on without the embarrassment or stigma that the child would attract, and without the guilt. You were right about that, by the way. She gave you the ability to find someone new and rebuild your life. She knew it would hurt you, but it was better than the alternative.

“For you, Meredith. You. She did not consider how it would affect her. As it was, knowing you would be okay actually helped her. She still had your messages and she was surrounded by her family, so she relaxed. Patsy began to do normal things normally. As her world stabilised, so did her body. When her period arrived, she thought she was losing the baby, but when she went to the hospital and was told there was no pregnancy, her world imploded again. But this time it was far worse.”

“How? How could that be worse?” Meredith demanded.

“Because, she asked herself, how could a sane person think she was pregnant? I didn’t know her attacker was impotent, but she’s remembered that, and she is questioning why she didn’t do a test. That’s what sane people would have done, even without her attacker’s inabilities. A sane person would have sought confirmation. But what she did was walk out. She hadn’t thought she had an issue before, other than being pregnant by a madman, and only agreed to see me because you’d given her an ultimatum. Now she knows she has serious problems, and it’s devastated her. Because despite not being pregnant, she can’t come back. Just as she couldn’t expect you to accept the child, she can’t expect you to accept her. Do you see?”

“No. I understand the words. That’s it. It’s about as ass-backwards as it gets.” Meredith flicked his cigarette away and resisted the urge to light another.

“Finally.” Maxine huffed out a sigh.

“What does that mean?”

“It means if it makes little sense to you, imagine how it’s affecting Patsy.”

“Oh. So what do I do?”

“Be patient. Call and let her know where you are and tell her you would like to see her when she’s ready, and then wait, and I mean wait. Do that now. I’m speaking to her tomorrow. Let me see how she feels about it.”

“Okay. Will you call me after?” Meredith asked.

“Meredith, you are placing me in a very difficult situation. Do you know…okay, I might. I can promise no more than that.”

“Thank you. I’ll let you go now. ’Bye, Maxine.”

“Goodnight, Meredith.”

Meredith went back into the lobby and ordered coffee as he pondered what to say in his message to Patsy. It was almost eleven, the answer machine would pick up, and he had to get it right. He looked around the lobby as he drank his coffee. People were coming and going, talking on phones, clicking away on their laptops, all totally unaware that he felt absolutely useless and totally lost.

Ordering another coffee, he called Patsy’s brother’s number and was surprised when Steve picked up. Meredith had thought he’d be at work.

“Meredith.”

“Hello, Steve, I thought you’d be at work. How are things?”

“Me and the family are all okay. Patsy, not so much. I take it you know about the pregnancy?” Steve asked with a sigh.

“I do. How is she?”

“Lost, I think is the most accurate description. Patsy speaks to Martha more than me. She’s trying to pretend everything is normal, but she’s struggling. I think it’s going to be a long haul.”

“Will you ask if she will speak to me?”

“She’s not here. Martha had a client coming in to see her, and Patsy offered to do the school run and then the weekly shop. Not sure how long she’ll be, she also said she was going for a walk on the beach. Would you like me to leave a message for her, or you could call back in ten minutes when I will have left the house? We like watching her listen to your messages, although none of us will be around today. Oh, yes and she’s speaking to her counsellor again. I don’t know if you know that. That’s a positive, isn’t it?”

“It is, yes. A real lifeline for both of us. Thanks for looking after her. If nothing else, I’m grateful she has you and yours. I’ll buy you a pint when I see you.”

“That might be a while, not sure…Are you planning on coming over?” Steve asked.

Meredith thought he heard a tinge of hope. “Already have. I’m in the airport Ibis. So, if she doesn’t want to see me yet, I’m going to be climbing the walls. I might need some company.”

“Wow. She doesn’t know. I’m almost glad I won’t be in when she gets your…or do you think I should be? Bloody hell, Meredith. I have to go now because I was cutting it fine as it was. I’ll give you a ring later. Once I’ve seen Patsy, and she knows you’re here, I’ll need a pint. We’ll have dinner.”

“Text me your address. I promise I won’t turn up, but rather than drag you all the way out here, I’ll find a local hotel.”

“I thought you already had it. But, yes, I will. Whatever happens, I’ll see you later. For what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re here.”

“Thank you. Text now, then I can tell her where I’m staying.”

As soon as the text came in, Meredith searched local hotels and chose the Emerald Inn on Takapuna beach. Then he called Patsy.

“Hello, Hodge, I’m not sure if you’ve left any messages over the last couple of days because I haven’t been at the house. In fact, I won’t be for some time, so if you need me, it will have to be a call to my mobile. Or you could call me at the Emerald Inn on Takapuna beach. I don’t know the room number yet as I have to get there first. I’ll call again later to let you know, so give me a couple of hours. It’s now eleven thirty. If, of course, you’d rather come and see me, I’m the pale bloke with no fingernails drumming the table. I love you.”

Meredith went to his room and packed up the few things he’d taken from his bag. He checked out, jumped into a taxi, and headed for Takapuna, which would be only a few miles away from Patsy.

Chapter Four

Seaton walked to the whiteboard and drew four columns. “Morning, let’s start by dealing with what I know you will ask. No one has heard from the guv, other than some emails he’s forwarded, so it’s heads down and business as usual. You’ve read the files, had time to think about this overnight. Who wants to speak to who and why? I’ll go first because I’ve got the pen. I want to speak to Abigail Clark. In his interview, Simon said his wife would know more about Christine than he did. The original interview with her was very basic, and she gave little away, perhaps with the passage of time, and the body of Mike turning up, she might be more inclined to share secrets.” Seaton wrote her name in his column. “Next. Yes, George.”

“Not me necessarily, but we need to speak to the kids again. They’re older now. Lottie intimated that her mother was always cross with Mike Hawker. They didn’t press that enough. We can now.”

“I’ll take that. That’s what I was going to suggest, and ask them about the wider family, there was no real mention of the extended family. Although how much they’ll remember is anyone’s guess. We also need to speak to the neighbours, but I doubt the old boy next door is still alive,” Kent suggested.

“I noticed that about the family. There was Mike’s dad, but everyone else mentioned as a relation had a very basic interview. I know some families aren’t close, but it struck me as odd, too,” Linda agreed.

“Okay, Linda, that can be your job for today. Get a family tree together. Let’s see who their nearest and dearest should have been and find out why they weren’t.” Seaton looked at Trump. “Louie, thoughts? My immediate thoughts are we need more bodies, but we managed the last one while we were short. This one might just take a little longer.”

“We’ll ignore the fact that our shortage is DCI Meredith, because we’re still a strong team. We can do this.” Trump knew as the words left his lips, there was no need to vocalise what everyone else was thinking about, Meredith’s absence, and was painfully aware that he sounded more like a trainer than a leader of the chief constable’s favoured department. They were big shoes to fill, and right at that moment, his feet felt too small. “Anyway, I’ll take Barry Hawker to start with,” Trump said, keen to move on. “I’m hoping he’s still alive. He’ll be in his mid-seventies now.”

“He is alive, Louie. He went to the funeral with the children. There was a brief article online about it. I’ll find it and send it to you.” Daisy began the search for the article.

“Thank you, Daisy. Find any mention of the family that you can. Right, that’s our starting point. I’ll track down Mr Hawker senior, George and Kent, the children, and we’ll share out any other family members Linda comes up with. Let’s get going.”

“Are you not going to do the different theories bit?” George asked.

Trump sighed through his forced smile. “We certainly can. I was leaving it for a bit further into the investigation, but if it helps.” Trump walked to the board on the far wall. “One. Mike killed Christine and later was murdered himself. Two. Christine killed Mike, disappeared and is still at large. Three. Person or persons unknown killed both of them. I don’t think there are any others, are there?” When no one replied, his expression told them he knew it would be a pointless exercise, but he found a smile. “I’m keeping an open mind, of course, but my money is on three at the moment. Shall we crack on?”

They quickly found out that Barry and Glenys Hawker, the paternal grandparents, hoping that one, if not both parents, would return, had moved into the family home so as not to disrupt the children’s lives. All four still resided at that address, which meant they didn’t have to search for them.

“That’s very useful, but I do feel we should see them individually. Not knowing the personalities involved, one or more of them might simply agree with whatever the strongest character might say,” Trump said, walking across to Kent, who had found a Google maps image of the family home.

“Intimidated, you mean?” Kent asked.

“Not necessarily, but if the grandpa says, ‘he was a wonderful father’, would a child disagree with that memory openly? Or if Lottie says, ‘she was the best mum in the world’ would Grandma say, ‘what the woman who couldn’t even iron your school uniform’? That sort of thing.”

George agreed, “He’s right, lad. My father-in-law loved me. He was like a mate, but the mother-in-law barely tolerated me. Never knew why, but she used to look at me like she’d just swallowed something disgusting. If the wife was about, she was all sweetness and light. I asked once, and her answer was if you don’t know I’m not going to tell you. I almost told her what I thought of her, but it wasn’t worth the hassle. What would be the point of a big family row, and years of even more awkwardness? I just gave her a wide berth.”

“Point taken. I’m like that with my uncle Fred. Miserable so and so, never got a good word to say about anyone. So how are we going to do this, Louie? Invite them here individually?” Kent asked.

“I think so. That way we ensure a visual recording, too. Then, if and when DCI Meredith returns he gets to look at them and we won’t have a million questions to answer.”

“I see we have a telephone number. Invite Mr and Mrs Hawker in, as soon as they can make it. We can take one each. I’ll start work on what we should ask them,” Seaton said.

“On it.” Will Kent picked up the phone as Trump went back to his desk. The phone was answered on the third ring. There was silence. “Hello?” Kent pulled a face at Seaton. “Mr Hawker?”

“Who’s this? At least I can understand you. What do you want? We’ve got Sky, we’ve got broadband, and I’ve entered no competitions that you’d know about.”

“I’m DC Will Kent. I work with the Bristol cold case review team. We’re reopening the case on the disappearance of your son and his wife, and—”

“About bloody time. And he didn’t disappear, he was murdered as well you know.” Someone spoke in the background. “I’m not shouting,” Hawker told them. “I’m simply stating facts. Am I shouting?”

“Are you asking me?” Kent asked.

“Who else would I be asking? So, when and where?”

“When and where what?” Kent asked and smiled as Hawker spoke to whoever was in the room with him.

“Don’t hold your breath. This one isn’t too bright, going to be like all those who went before. Are you serious, DC Kent?”

“Um, yes. I was calling to arrange an…ah, right. As soon as possible, and here if that’s convenient. We can come and pick you up if you would like.”

“Got there in the end. We’re old hands at this. I hope you’ve got some different questions. I don’t think the other lot kept records. You’ll have to elaborate on the ‘here’ bit, and then I can tell you when.” Hawker spoke to his wife, “Glen, get your shoes on, we’re going out.”

Kent gave the address, and they agreed the Hawkers would come in at one thirty.

“Thank you, that’s very good of you. You don’t need a lift?”

“I might be old, but I can still drive. I’m going a bit mutton, but my eyesight is fine, thank you very much. You’re not in charge, are you?” Hawker asked, with no hint of amusement.

“No, sir, just one of the team,” Kent told him, knowing he was going to ask to interview Glenys.

“Thank God for that. Tell the boss we’ll be on time.”

“Will do.” Kent hung up and looked at Trump. “He wants to speak to the boss, so I’ll do Mrs H. I don’t think he likes me.”

Glenys Hawker sat with a sigh and nodded her thanks as Kent placed the requested water in front of her.

“Thanks for coming in, Mrs Hawker, much appreciated. I’m going to record this. That way, hopefully, you won’t get asked the same questions again.”

“No offence, William, but let’s just get on with it. I’m not going to tell you anything that will help you, but I’m here. Ask away.” Slipping her arms out of her jacket, Glenys allowed it to fall over the back of her chair. “It’s hot in here. No windows either. How do you put up with it?”

“I’ll turn the air-con on. It gets cool quickly. Let me know when it gets too cold.” He smiled. “Before we get to the nitty-gritty stuff, tell me about Mike and Christine. Who they were, what they were like, it helps if I get a feel for people.”

“Why? What difference does that make? He could be a wife beater and her a junkie drunk. They were still taken. They were still killed. Finding out who and why will be the same, won’t it?”

“Possibly. But for instance, if Christine was a junkie, then we’d be looking at who she was getting her drugs from, how was she was paying for them. You see? I can see you don’t, so just humour me, you’ve got nothing to lose, and it might help. How did they meet? Was it obvious they would marry?”

“Okay, have it your way. I don’t know how they met, in a nightclub or bar I expect. They both enjoyed having a good time. Mike was living in a flat with his mates, so I’m sure he had a string of girlfriends before we got to meet Christine. We didn’t meet her until they were looking for a place together.”

“And what did you think? Did you like her? Did you see her as the mother of your future grandchildren?” Kent asked.

“Not at first. I thought…I don’t know…I suppose I thought she might still have a lot of living to do. Let’s put it that way. The way she talked, I thought she came from a wealthy family, you know, jetsetters, but she didn’t. They were the same as us, three-bed semi and a car that had seen better days. She certainly wasn’t earning enough for weekends in New York and dinner up the Eiffel tower. You know?”

“I do. But I’d like to do all that stuff, just a case of saving up, isn’t it?” Kent asked.

“Saving up if you didn’t spend it before you earned it. Do you know, when they got the first flat, we offered them our old three-piece. One chair was a bit worn, but they could have had the settee and the other chair. We’d ordered a new one, you see. They laughed and said thanks but no thanks, everything went on a credit card or the never never. Terms, they called it. Mike said they didn’t have to pay out much, they do terms. Mike had a bit of stuff from his place, and Christine from hers, but most of it was new.” Glenys shook her head. “I was worried. I mean, it was only a rented place. What if they split up? Who’d pay for it then?”

“I’m guessing it turned out okay in the end? They managed. They must have because they had a nice house, a nice car, and I didn’t see anywhere that they were in debt when they disappeared. But, other than worrying about their financial situation, you liked her?” Kent asked.

“Yes.”

Kent inclined his head. “Okay. What was wrong with her? I’m asking because I’m taking my girlfriend to meet my mum soon. What will she be looking for?”

“I never said anything was wrong with her. I said yes.” Glenys held up a finger of warning. “Don’t you go hearing what I’m not saying.”

“That’s what my governor told me I had to do. Listen to what they don’t say. How am I doing?” Kent smiled. “Look, Mrs Hawker, I know the old rubbish about not speaking ill of the dead, and if we’re honest, there’s a strong chance that Christine is also dead, but the more I know, the more it will help. What you say in here goes no further than the CCRT. You might think it’s not important, and it might not be, but it helps build a picture.”

“Okay, but I shall deny ever saying this. Don’t want the kids to think I didn’t like their mum because I did. But she put so much pressure on Mike, especially when the kids were young, and she couldn’t work. Get a better job, ask for a rise, that sort of thing. She knew what he earned before they started a family, she knew what the bills were. She wasn’t stupid, so where did she think this magic wand was coming from?”

“Did you say anything?” Kent asked.

“Don’t be stupid. I’m the mother-in-law, on the wrong side. Sons leave their mothers in a way daughters never do. Once they’re head of their own family, it’s anything for a peaceful life. If their wife doesn’t like their mum, she gets sidelined. Anyway, it wasn’t important enough to kick up a fuss over, just irritating. Christine was a clever girl, so I couldn’t see what she thought had changed. They blame everything on hormones or the lack of them these days. Might have been that.”

“I won’t disagree with you because I’ve never been in that situation, and someone said something similar this morning. So, to the outside world, all was well, you were the perfect mother-in-law?”

“I doubt that very much. But I did my best. I’m probably giving you the wrong impression. Christine was an excellent mother. She loved those kids. They came first. Which is how it should be. She just hadn’t worked out how to hide that from Mike. Men get a rude awakening when kids arrive and they’re no longer the centre of attention. There’s a warning for you.” Glenys smiled at Kent. “You should remember that.”

“How did Mike take being relegated?” Kent asked.

“He was fine with it.” Glenys shrugged. “He didn’t really have a choice, there was nothing he could do about it.”

“You must have noticed something, or perhaps something was said, because you said she didn’t hide it well enough. And as to choice, there’s always a choice, isn’t there? He could walk out, he could look elsewhere for attention, they could argue about it, or yes, he could make the choice of put up and shut up. But still, a choice.” Kent held out his hands.

“My Mike would never walk out on those kids. He was so good with them. He adored them, and they adored him. As for looking elsewhere, you’ve been listening to the gossips, he didn’t. He’d be risking everything, and he was too sensible for that. Mike was many things, but not stupid.” Glenys wagged her finger. “That’s why it was so obvious something awful had happened. They wouldn’t listen. The first lot thought he’d killed Christine and ran off into the sunset. They never said as much, but it was obvious. But like we kept telling them, one, he didn’t have the money to do that, and two, even if he’d wanted to, which he didn’t, before you jump in and say I said something I haven’t, he wouldn’t have left those kids behind. Nor would Christine come to that. Someone took them. Your job is to find out who.” Glenys closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead, as though explaining something so obvious yet again was tedious.

Kent leant forward, his arms crossed on the desk. “I disagree. My governor told me the opposite. He says if we find out why, the who will become clear. And in this case, I agree with him.”

“Then perhaps I should speak to your governor. He seems to have a lot of opinions. Because if he’s so bloody clever, he’d realise there’s nothing I’m not saying and get his finger out and find out the why. Because I don’t know. I can’t tell you that.” Glenys sat back in her chair and folded her arms. “Next question. And I know you think I’m getting stroppy, I’m not. I’m glad you’re trying to find out what happened, but I didn’t take them. I can’t tell you what I don’t know, and I wish you’d ask someone who might be able to answer all these questions.”

“We will, Mrs Hawker, we will. But like I said, we need to know the people we were dealing with. In the original interviews, Christine was described as liking to party, and Mike as a good laugh. Would that be a fair assessment?”

“I suppose, but time and place. They weren’t out all the time, but I know when they went out, or if there was a party, they had a good time. I don’t see how that’s relevant.”

“It’s not. Only inasmuch as they didn’t sit in every night rowing or moaning about the state of the country. Just forms a picture.”

Glenys nodded slowly. “Okay. But that was a tiny part of that picture. The big picture is they were parents. Good parents. Parents who wouldn’t have left their kids. You must believe that now. Now that…” Glenys closed her eyes and composed herself. “Now that you know he was murdered years ago.”

“I promise you, we accept they were excellent parents. Can I be brutally honest with you?”

“I hope so.”

“Every time we open a new case, we come up with theories about what might have happened. Who, what, why. We only have three in this case. The first is the least likely, given what happened to Mike.”

“Go on then, tell me. I’ve got no more tears left to cry. Not much can shock me these days.” Glenys seemed to wilt at that thought, and her shoulders dropped lower. “Sad that. But true. What’s the first theory?”

“Mike killed Christine for some reason and then panicked and did a runner. Unlikely given how he died.”

“Very. The next?”

“Someone, for some very serious reason, took both of them and killed them.”

“Yes. That’s what we’ve been saying.” Glenys rolled her eyes. “How many times have I said that, to how many people sitting in a chair opposite me like you are, do you reckon?”

“Lots, I’m sure. What did you say to the third theory?”

“I don’t know, you haven’t told me yet.”

“That Christine was responsible, and she’s still out there somewhere?” Kent said, and tried to work out why he needed to spell it out because it was obvious.

“But she couldn’t have, could she? She went first. They took her first.”

“Possibly. Or did she make it look like that? Did she go wherever it was she was going, with whomever it was, because she couldn’t have done it without help, and then she got rid of Mike? Who knows, perhaps she was going to reappear with some story or another, perhaps something went wrong, and she couldn’t, or she was stopped.”

Glenys remained silent as she considered this. Eventually she looked him in the eye, and asked, “Is that what your lot think? Is that what you’re going to work on?”

“Not at the moment. Now we’re concentrating on finding some whys or even hows.”

“Good, because if you had an ounce of sense between you, the first and biggest question would be a why. Why would she disappear first? It makes little sense. That would only work if she didn’t want to come back, wouldn’t it? And here I go again, what about the kids? If Mike had disappeared never to return, yes, a possibility, however unlikely. Or, if she’d just disappeared off the face of, yes, she might have wanted it to look like that, although again, why? But if either of them was in on this plan, it went horribly wrong, didn’t it? Neither came back. Neither saw their kids grow up, and in a couple of years, all their money, what little there was, and the insurance money, and the house will go into the kids’ names. The solicitor has already sorted that out. So what was to be gained? Other than the death of the other one, and they didn’t hate each other that much.” Glenys threw her arms into the air. “Bloody ridiculous. The thought that one of them would snatch the other from their family and kill them and have nothing in return except a life on the run. Look, have you got any sensible questions for me? No offence intended, although come to think of it, yes, take offence. Might make you look at this in a different way, because from where I’m sitting you’re worse than the first lot.”

Kent nodded. “Okay. Noted. And we’re not, you know, worse than the first lot. There were just a lot of questions that never got asked the first time. We’re playing catch up.”

“Stupid questions. Didn’t need to waste your breath. Ask me a sensible one and turn the air-con off. I’m getting chilly now.”

Kent did as she asked and, returning to his seat, smiled at her. “Now we’ve got that out of the way, I think we can agree that whoever planned what happened on that day didn’t do it on the spur of the moment. It wasn’t some opportunist crime, it had been considered. Perhaps not the Mike element. That might have been we’ll grab him when we can, but they knew they would. They wanted both of them. Can we agree on that?”

Glenys nodded. “I suppose. Carry on.”

“So, that tells us that something wasn’t right. Be it sex, money, or some other type of offence caused to whoever took them. Now we need to work out what that was. The why.”

“I don’t know what you mean about sex, sounds sordid, but carry on, I’m listening.”

“Sex because one of them might have been having an affair, perhaps. They called it a day and the injured party was a fruitcake and went over the top in their revenge.”

“I doubt it. Keep talking. Like I said at the start, nothing much surprises me anymore.”

“Whatever it was, it’s likely that one, or maybe both of them, knew they had a problem. They may have mentioned it to someone. Who were they close to? Actually, let’s do a little family and friends tree. We’ll start with Mike.” Kent opened the notebook in front of him and in the centre of the page wrote MIKE and circled it. “At the top, we’ll have the friends we know about and below family. Where would you like to start, and I want the full family tree, not the just the people you think he was close to. Aunts, uncles, cousins, the lot.”

“We’d better do family first. I don’t know how many of his friends I remember. Simon Clark would be best to answer that. I’m sure you’ve heard of Simon, haven’t you?”

“Of course. Don’t hold back Glenys, I want to know what you know and what you think about these people, too. You’re perceptive. It could be important.”

Glenys smiled for the first time. “Finally, someone who realises I don’t talk a load of rubbish.”

When they finished Mike’s sheet, Kent turned the page, and they started again for Christine. Glenys was a fount of knowledge, and although he knew most of it would take them nowhere, Kent was chuffed he’d ended up with Glenys, and wondered how Trump was getting on with the old man.

Trump ordered the tea requested by Barry Hawker and showed him into the interview room.

“What I’m saying is, I don’t know why you don’t do us together. We’ll only tell you the same thing,” Hawker explained as he pulled out a chair.

“Several reasons, firstly because it tends to be quicker, conversations do go off at a tangent when one thinks the other is wrong, or they didn’t know a certain fact and ask why, and secondly, because some people need to tell us something they would rather the other didn’t know about, or at least know they knew. All sounds rather underhand explained like that, but I assure you it’s not, and it gets more accurate and in-depth information. Have a seat. We’re going to record this.” Trump hit the record button.

Hawker looked at the light flashing above Trump’s head. “For the record, it does sound underhand. I’ve told you lot all I know so many times, it’s getting ridiculous, but in the hope that you will find out what happened to my boy and his wife, I’ll tell you again. And, for the record, me and the wife don’t keep secrets from each other. Therein trouble lies, we’re too old for trouble. Where do you want to start?”

“When you received the call from the school saying the children hadn’t been collected, what was your first thought?”

“Not that they’d been abducted. I can tell you that.”

“No, I’m sure that was furthest from your mind, but what was it? Quite literally, what did you think the answer might be?”

“I’ve got no idea why you think that’s important or how it will help you.” Hawker looked at Trump as though he might be simple. “But I’ll humour you. Although I hope I won’t have an hour or more of humouring you. I haven’t got the patience for it.”

Trump smiled, and waited for the answer, believing if he spoke, Hawker would have something else to say.

“I suppose I had a moan, bloody useless. How do you forget your kids? How did they both forget them? As I was driving there, I thought maybe Chris might have missed the bus, and Mike got held up or let his phone run out of battery again. That led me to thinking about Chris and her phone because she was never off of the thing, and it was then that I realised something was wrong. There was no way they would both have no phone and not remember the kids. Perhaps one of them had had an accident, and they were at the hospital. Then I tried to work out whether to take the kids to theirs or ours. They’d need feeding while we waited to find out.”

“What did you decide?” Trump asked.

“I decided ours. Which was just as well because the police had broken into theirs. We had to get the door boarded up. Answered the phone question though. Simon had taken Mike’s phone out of his car, and Chris’s was in the kitchen. They sent their forensic people in, you know, to make sure nothing had happened at the house. They didn’t think it had. So as we only had a two-bed bungalow, we moved into theirs and waited, and waited and then gave up waiting and sold ours. Glenys wasn’t happy with the thought of leaving it empty any longer, and it cost too much to have it standing empty. She wouldn’t rent it out. We agreed that we’d put the money aside and buy something when they came back. Although, we knew they wouldn’t. That was in the fourth year.”

“I can only imagine how difficult that must have been. Did you have any theories as to what had happened?”

“None that made sense. In the beginning, we talked about it until we were blue in the face, but eventually you give up, and hope that the police will make a breakthrough, then you give up on that too because, barring a body turning up, you had to believe they’d done all they could. And then he did.” Hawker cleared his throat and dabbed the corner of his eye.

“What sort of theories did you come up with?” Trump kept his voice low and calm.

“Us or the police?” Hawker cupped his ear. “No point in whispering, I won’t hear you.”

“I’m sorry. You. What theories did you come up with?” Trump asked again.

“Not the rubbish the first lot did. They thought, and probably still did until Mike’s body was found, that he’d killed her and ran. Total bloody rubbish. What about the kids?”

“I agree but one has to keep an open mind. I’m of the opinion that something wasn’t right in their lives, and if we’re to make any progress, we have to find out what that was. What do you think about that?”

“About something not being right? Pretty obvious, I’d say. Someone didn’t wake up one morning and say, I know, I’ll see if I can wreck a family this morning. I’ll walk along this back lane, kidnap someone’s wife and then grab the husband once he’s dropped the kids off.”

“Quite. So, any ideas what it might be? Were they having financial difficulties? Was their marriage unhappy? Did you speak to Mike about that sort of thing? Would he have confided in you? And please, I mean no offence by that question, but if any of those things applied to me, the last person I’d speak to would be my father because I couldn’t stand to see the disappointment I know that would cause.”

“I doubt he’d have come to me with money troubles. I couldn’t have helped as I didn’t have any, not really. All tied up in the house. We liked the sun back in those days, went away as often as we could, but I was working then. We pretty much spent what we had coming in most months. As to marriage difficulties, don’t we all? Nothing serious, I don’t think. Mike was just knackered all the time. He worked long hours, had two young kids, a young wife who wanted a show home, and not a minute to himself. Sometimes he’d bring the kids over to see us at the weekend and let us entertain them, and we’d find him asleep on the couch. I offered to have them for more sleepovers, and he said it wasn’t necessary because Christine would want to go out then and that would mean a late night. And the poor bugger never got to see the end of it. Because, like I told him, it does end. Didn’t tell him that one set of problems just got replaced with a different lot, wanted him to have some hope for the future.” Hawker blinked rapidly. “Not a lot of help, am I?”

“Everything helps at his stage. When interviewed originally, Simon Clark told the officer questioning him that Mike was a good laugh, and Christine liked to party. Would that be a fair assessment?”

“I suppose. They didn’t go wild, not that I know of, but yes, they liked to have fun. Mike had a dry sense of humour but wasn’t mean with it like some people. Knew his audience. What he’d say to me he’d never tell his mother, and I’m sure vice versa. You see?”

Trump nodded agreement. “I do. Do you think if he or they were in any sort of trouble, he would have confided in you?”

“Back then I would have said yes. I’m a miserable bastard, I know that, but my bark is worse than my bite, and I never let him down. Not once. Now, I don’t know. Because something was going on, wasn’t it? It was her phone that made me realise that, and I suppose the coat and the shoes.”

“How do you mean?” Trump asked.

“Well, his theory to Simon was that she’d gone to work and obviously in a daydream had left the saucepan on the stove and not told him. But why didn’t she take her phone? It was never out of her hand. So, I’m convinced that that, out of everything, would have made him wonder if she was okay. On top of that, she took her bag but not her keys, phone, or coat. Why? Why put the porridge on, and then leave like that?”

“What would be your best bet?”

“At first, the best thing I could come up with is someone knocked on the back door, flogging something. You know those people who come round with kitchen stuff and try to get a tenner for something you’d pay a pound for in the supermarket. She got her bag to buy something, and they grabbed her and the bag. But then why would they take him too? So no, I don’t have a good bet.”

“Tell me about her coat. I’ve seen nothing about that.”

Hawker rolled his eyes. “Doesn’t surprise me. We worked it out when Simon came round to see us. We asked him what Mike had said, as you would. The police didn’t give us any detail, just summarised it. Simon said Mike was convinced she’d gone to work because she’d put her shoes on. Mike told him she’d changed out of her slippers. They had oak floors laid throughout a few years before, and anyone entering that house with a heel on did so at their peril. She wouldn’t have put them on unless she knew she was going out. In the beginning, everyone was in their socks until she realised it wasn’t necessary. But not heels, never heels, you see?” Hawker asked.

“I understand about the shoes, but the coat…”

“Well, that was when we went to the house, at that stage we were telling the kids that Mummy and Daddy had lots of work to do, but when we walked in, Lottie said, if Mummy is at work, why hasn’t she got her work coat on, and tugged at the coat. So Mike would have known, coat in the hall, keys on the hook, phone in the kitchen, and only her shoes gone. It was weeks later that we realised Mike would have known something was wrong, but why wasn’t he more worried? Simon said he sounded fine. They joked about him being good on the school run. Makes little sense, but then none of it does. But I told them, the police, she’d put her shoes on and grabbed her bag. She knew she was going out of the house but not long enough to need a coat. Perhaps Mike thought she’d popped to see a neighbour and was smoking again.”

“Smoking?”

“Yes, Mike had worked out that when she fell off the no smoking wagon, she always had her bag with her. When she wasn’t smoking, it was everything shoved in a pocket. So maybe he thought she’d put her shoes on to go and have a crafty ciggie, probably with Jilly across the back and they’d got chatting, but there again, why didn’t he knock to find out? He went next door, so why not to Jilly? I hope you find out what happened, I really do, but hand on heart, I won’t hold it against you if you don’t. It’s madness. Total bloody madness.”

“I hope so too, and we’ll do our best. We’ve got a good track record, so I’m optimistic. Let’s go back to what might have caused this. If Mike didn’t confide in you, who would he speak to, do you think?”

“Simon, of course, but other than that, I don’t know. He had lots of friends, but one close enough to confide in, I don’t know. Simon might be a better person to ask that.” Hawker tutted. “All such a mess and so sad for the kids.”

“How are the children? It must have been very difficult, especially in the beginning.” Trump gave a sympathetic smile.

“In the beginning? That was the easy bit. We had tears and tantrums, especially from Lottie, who wouldn’t be fobbed off after the first couple of weeks, but that only lasted a few months, and then the questioning got less and less. It’s now I’m struggling with. That and the gizmos. I’m too old to be dealing with teenagers. Everything has changed so much.”

“I’m sure. What gizmos? Nothing to do with the case, of course, but I’m intrigued.”

“Everything. When Mike was a boy, it was the standard LEGO sets, bike, football boots, for presents, but for this generation everything has to sing and dance. Games consoles, iPhones, headsets, we can’t keep up with it. Don’t get me wrong, they’re good kids, but it’s relentless this march of time. And if you want my opinion, they’re the poorer for it. They might have information at their fingertips, but while they’re looking at things going on all over the world that probably aren’t even true, they forget to live their own lives. They’ve got little to look forward to. All they know is, this is new, and you must have one.

“Me, I lived for the weekends, going out on the town, getting dressed up and wondering who I’d meet this week. Life was about what was happening to me. At that moment. The Sunday papers provided all the gossip, but that wasn’t important to me. I wanted to know if this girl or that girl would go out with me, or if the boys were up for a pint before lunch. Still, I’m an old man, and I’m sure my grandparents felt much the same.” Hawker gave his head a shake. “But at least Oscar is sporty. You name it, he plays it. I’m a geriatric taxi driver most of the time. And I’m pretty sure I’ve been no use to you, so what now?”

“It’s all useful, Mr Hawker. It builds a picture. We’re only just starting. I’ll speak to Simon Clark about the friends, but what about family? I’ve seen little mention of Christine’s family. Let’s start with what you know about her side of things and don’t hold back. You’re clearly a discerning gentleman. Tell me what you think about them, too. This isn’t just a name-collecting exercise.” Trump opened his notebook.

“I’ll do my best. Glenys is better with that sort of stuff, but I’m guessing you’ll be asking her, too.”

Twenty minutes later, Barry Hawker had exhausted both his knowledge and opinions on the family tree. Trump ended the interview and showed him through to the reception area. Glenys wasn’t there.

“She’ll still be chatting if you’ve started her on the family,” Hawker observed, as he dropped into one of the more comfortable chairs. “You will be careful what you say to the kids, won’t you? I don’t want them thinking their parents had some awful secret life that caused all this.” He screwed up his nose. “Although, given the circumstances, I suppose that’s a possibility. What a bloody nightmare, but even so, they, especially Lottie, have rose-coloured spectacles.”

“We will. Oh, here’s your wife. Thank you for coming in, Mr Hawker. We will keep you posted but give us a little time. It will be a slog to get this one off and running.”

Back in the office, Trump and Kent compared notes. There was little difference in the information they’d picked up, except perhaps opinions on the extended family members.

“Linda, get those recordings uploaded, and add the comments about the personalities to your family tree. Once you’ve done that, get interviews booked in with the children and Christine’s parents, then start on the extended family with Will.” Trump looked at the others. “Anything else turned up?”

“I’m seeing Abigail Clark later, had to speak to Simon to get her number, and as we should chat to him again, he’s coming in this afternoon with her. Other than that, more of the same,” Seaton replied.

“Splendid. A good start.” Trump’s phone beeped, and he read the message that had arrived and smiled. That was a positive.

“Good news?” George asked. “You smiled. Not been a lot of that about today.”

“I think so, yes. Nothing that affects the case, not yet anyway. Okay, in the absence of anything else to do, I suggest we all get busy booking in interviews with the family. Oh and yes, I want everything logged immediately. We’re short on manpower, so it’s crucial we all keep everything up to date. No chasing our tails to find out what’s going on. Linda, my sweet, was there a reason for that look? I thought you’d approve.” Trump looked at his wife with raised eyebrows. She rarely criticised him.

“No, Louie. You’re the boss. The OIC. But the skipper would say the opposite, he’d say, strike while the iron’s hot. The paper pushing can be done when we’ve nothing better to do. But you’re not the skipper, and we’ll do it your way.”

“I’m not. He’s not here. But if he were to become involved at a later stage, I’d like to think that he’d have everything at his fingertips. Carry on.”

Chapter Five

Patsy kicked the door shut and heaved the shopping bags into the kitchen. As she put the milk in the fridge, she noticed the light flashing on the answer machine and wondered if it was Meredith. She’d not heard from him for a few days. Perhaps he believed her now and had decided to move on. Turning back to the shopping, she continued the unpacking and ignored the blinking light.

Shopping sorted, she made herself a coffee and walked through to the living area. She wouldn’t listen to the message because she wasn’t sure if she wanted it to be Meredith or a call for Steve and Martha. Lifting the remote, she pointed it at the TV. Any distraction was a good distraction. She should have gone into work.

Meredith unpacked the few clothes he had brought with him, plugged his phone into the charger, and lay on the bed. It was comfortable enough. He’d leave it an hour before he went in search of lunch. He’d also have to buy some warmer clothing because he hadn’t considered the weather when he threw clothes into his bag. Placing the pillows behind his back, he lifted his laptop from the bedside table. Before he did anything, he’d check his emails again and see what the team was up to. Given that he’d ridden off into the sunset, they might just be doing the paperwork for the Brandon Farm case. He hoped not, as he was going nowhere, unless Patsy came with him. Even then it wasn’t a dead cert that he’d go back to work. He’d made that clear to the chief superintendent.

Meredith smiled when he saw a new case had been loaded. Linda had called it: Hawker x 2?. With no interest in moving, he opened the summary. Interesting. Meredith was halfway through the available files when his phone rang and startled him. It was an unknown number, and he snatched it up, pulling the charger from the wall in his haste. Hoping it was Patsy, he didn’t speak.

“Meredith, are you there?”

“Hi, Steve, I’m here. I was in the middle of something. Is everything okay? Did she listen to the message?”

“I don’t know, mate, I’m not home yet, but I got your text and have spoken to Martha, and decided I’d let you buy me that beer tonight. How’s the hotel?” Steve asked.

“Nicer than the other one, lovely view of the sea. It would be good to see you. Perhaps you could convince Patsy to come.”

“Can’t promise anything but I’ll give it a go. I’m sure the food there is good, but there are some great restaurants on that stretch. I’ll pick you up between six thirty and seven, and we’ll go for a stroll. That okay with you?”

“Sounds great. I’d better get my finger out and go shopping, or I’ll freeze to death.”

“You forgot it was winter here, didn’t you?” Steve laughed.

“Didn’t even consider it. Just chucked some undies, jeans and T-shirts into a bag. I also need to pick up a razor because I’ve almost got a beard, and I don’t think I like it.”

“Good luck with the shopping. I hate it. I’ll buzz you once I’ve parked the car and meet you in the lobby.”

“Me too. My fault, I was never a boy scout. See you later. I’m looking forward to it.”

Meredith crossed his fingers and put his hands behind his head. She might come. Please God let her come. Closing the laptop, he decided to eat, shop and nap, in that order. If Patsy came, he wanted to be wide awake.

Patsy smiled as Steve appeared in the living room. “Good day?” she asked.

“Surprising. Work was okay. The client’s wife is a pain, but okay.” Steve shrugged. “What about you?”

“Not bad. I had a brisk walk on the beach, a whiz round the supermarket, and got some emails sorted for Martha. She’s taken the kids to see her mum for dinner. They said hi. What was surprising if work was just okay?” Patsy asked.

“You haven’t listened to your messages, have you?”

“Oh. Is one from Meredith?”

“Yes. An important one, and I hope one that will make you happy. Shall I do the honours?”

Steve turned towards the answer machine and Patsy panicked. What if Meredith had said he was going to move on? Steve would think that would make her happy because it’s what she said she wanted. It’s what she did want, but she didn’t want to hear him say that. She jumped to her feet.

“No. Don’t. I’ll listen to it later.”

“Patsy, I—”

“I know, I know. I’ll listen to it before I speak to Maxine. Promise. We’re scheduled for eight. Before that, I’ll cook dinner for the two of us. What do you fancy? We have most things. It was a big shop.”

Steve’s lips twitched into a grimace. “I can’t, I’m going out. You could come with me.”

“Why are you looking at me like that? Where are you going?” Patsy asked.

“I’m going down to the beach. I’m having dinner with Meredith.”

Patsy’s mouth fell open, and she held her hands to her chest.

Steve raised his eyebrows and waited for her to speak, when she didn’t, he walked to her and kissed her forehead. “I said I’d meet him six thirtyish, seven. I’m going to shower. Listen to the message and have a think about it. If you would rather go on your own to see him, I’ll drop you off and grab something to eat somewhere else, but I’ll be nearby if you need me. If you’d rather I came too, I’ll do that, although that would be my least favourite option. Or if you don’t want to see him just yet, I’ll let him know he needs to wait a little longer. I’ll be twenty minutes. If you’re coming too, you have an hour, tops, to get ready.”

Patsy hadn’t moved, so he kissed her forehead again and left her standing in the middle of the living room. As soon as he had disappeared, Patsy knelt in front of the answer machine and hit the play button. Meredith had flown here. All that time on a plane, she pitied the poor person who had to sit next to him. She realised she was smiling, and her smile grew bigger. Glad she’d showered earlier, she went to her room. She’d go with Steve and have dinner. See how that went.

As she settled for a pair of jeans and a soft navy polo neck, she knew exactly how it would go. She would cry, he would cry, probably, not guaranteed if Steve was there, but then what? Would she stay with him? Would he come home with her? Did she want that for him? Was that fair? And she had to speak to Maxine. Applying a little blusher and some lipstick, she pulled her hair into a loose knot and studied her appearance before going to tell Steve what she wanted to do.

“Really? Are you sure?”

“Absolutely. But you can’t tell him. Promise me, you can’t tell him. I will meet him, of course I will but not today.”

Steve looked at his watch. “Okay. I’m leaving in five.”

Meredith paced the lobby, his newly purchased coat over the back of the nearest sofa. He’d come down far too early. His heard his phone ping, he, or hopefully they, had arrived. He watched the door. After a few moments, he checked the time. The hotel had a decent sized carpark, where was he – they? His phone rang and he pulled it from his pocket.

“I’m on my way. Five minutes,” Steve said.

“No problem. I’m here, ready and waiting.” Meredith lifted his coat and walked closer to the door. His heart was tapdancing, his stomach somersaulting, and he thought there was a fair chance he might faint. He drew in a breath and held it, blowing it out in disappointment as Steve appeared on his own. He walked out to meet him.

Steve shook his hand and pulled him into a hug. “Sorry, she couldn’t make it. She has to speak to Maxine, and given your location, I didn’t push it. She needs to get her head around it.” He released Meredith. “Nice coat. I bet that set you back a few bob.”

“I spent a bloody fortune. At one stage, I almost wished there was an M&S handy.”

“Decided against the shave, then. This way.”

“Yes. I don’t know if she’ll like me with a beard. I’ve never had one, and I thought it would be a talking point.” Meredith tried for a smile. “I forgot to buy a razor.” He rubbed his hand along his chin. “I had a walk along here this afternoon, and there’s a steak restaurant up on the corner. Do you fancy that?” Meredith asked.

“Wow. I was going to suggest that. Great minds.”

When they reached the restaurant, Steve held the door open. “After you. Let’s take a seat over there. We can watch the world go by.”

They ordered their food, and over the course of the meal talked about anything and everything except Patsy. Main course finished. Steve pushed his plate away.

“If you catch the waiter’s eye, grab a sweet menu. I can’t believe I’ll get to finish it myself. The kids always make puppy dog eyes until I share. I need to pay a visit.”

Meredith agreed, and having obtained the menus, pulled his phone from his pocket. There was a message notification, and he remembered the alert coming in while he waited in the lobby, and assumed it was from Steve. He clicked on it and smiled.

Johnny, you flew! Stop drumming. It will make them sore! Still can’t get over the fact that you sat on a plane for all that time! Did you take any medication? Shocked doesn’t come close. Have a wonderful dinner with Steve, he’s good company. I expect he’s told you I had an appointment. Enjoy, Johnny. Love you, P x.

Meredith had direct contact! He tapped out his response.

I did. No medication was involved or necessary. A very nice steward gave me earphones. I watched rubbish films nonstop. I have stopped drumming. Steve is good company, but not as good as you. Please let me know how soon I can dine with you. Even a walk along the beach with you? I bought new trainers today, so I have suitable footwear.

He waited for five minutes for a response. It didn’t come, and realising Steve had been a while, he looked around. Steve was leaning against a pillar, tapping out a message on his own phone. He caught Meredith’s eye, and slid his phone into his pocket, before returning to the table.

“Sorry about that. Martha wanting to ask a million questions. Be grateful she couldn’t make it.” Steve lifted the menu. “Have you decided?”

“Haven’t looked. I got a text from Patsy.” Meredith smiled. “Baby steps.”

“Thank God for that. That means I haven’t got to listen to any more of your messages. You know she used to play them over and over again. But like you say, baby steps.”

Meredith snatched the menu from his hand. “Apologies, I’ll choose. You order. I’m going to pop out for a ciggy.” Meredith scanned the choices. “I’ll have the apple pie.”

Steve nodded and took back the menu. He then watched Meredith zip up his coat and light a cigarette as he left the restaurant. This might be interesting.

Meredith pulled out his phone and dialled the number which had sent the message. It rang through to an answer machine.

“Hodge. Thank you for trusting me with this number. I will try not to abuse it but I’m making no promises. You might have to switch it off if you need to sleep because I’m here alone, in an enormous bed, and I’m lonely. But, as I say, I’ll try. Calling me will avoid that, but I won’t push you. When you’re ready will be soon enough. I’m going nowhere. I love you. B…before I sign off, I should tell you I forgot my razor, and rather than buy one, I’m going to grow a beard. A beard that won’t be shaved off until you tell me you that want me to. And I know that means I might end up looking like Grizzly Adams – do you know who that is? If not google him. Just thought I should warn you because when you agree to see me, apart from the lack of nails, you might not recognise me. So, I still love you but I’d better go, I don’t want Steve eating my pudding. Did I mention I love you? Thought not. I. Love. You. Now you’re making me go soppy, so I’ll just say bye for now.”

Meredith stubbed out his cigarette, flicked it into a bin and went back inside.

He pulled off his coat and hung it on the back of the chair. “It might have cost a fortune, but it does the job. That wind feels lethal.”

“You phoned her then.”

“Ah, yes. Sorry. Well, at least you won’t have to listen to that message.”

“I didn’t mind, not really. It was amusing in a heartbreaking sort of way. You reduced Martha to tears more than once,” Steve told him with a smile.

“Sorry about that. I’ll make it up to her. I’ll take you all out at the weekend. Patsy too, if she’s agreed to see me by then. She didn’t pick up.”

“She couldn’t, could she?” Steve checked the time. “Patsy will be speaking to Maxine.”

“Ah, yes. Well, at least she can tell Maxine what I’ve done. Perhaps Maxine will convince her to speak to me.”

“Here’s hoping. Now, I’ve had an alcohol-free night so far, you can buy me that pint now.” Steve smiled at the waiter, who placed their desserts on the table. “I’ll have a pint of lager and for my friend…”

“The same, please. Are you sure you don’t want to go somewhere else? A bar or something?” Meredith asked.

“No. We’re good here. I’m driving, I’ll make sure I’m not next time, I reckon we could show the youngsters how it’s done between the two of us.” Steve grinned. “You’ve given me a good excuse to get out more.”

“I might take you up on that. It’s been a long time since I had a decent session. After Patsy left, I refused to give in to temptation. I’ll probably be drunk after a couple because I’m getting old. Thank you.” Meredith picked up the pint that had been placed in front of him. “Cheers.”

“Cheers. But I think we should still try, don’t you?”

Meredith smacked his lips together. “God, that was needed. And, yes, I do. I wonder how well apple pie goes with lager. I’d usually be on wine until after the meal.” He took a forkful. “Surprisingly well, methinks.”

They’d almost finished when Steve’s phone sounded. He pulled it from his pocket and grimaced at Meredith.

“I’m going to have to make a move shortly.”

“No problem, I was supposed to be taking a nap this afternoon, had to go shopping instead. You carry on. I’ll get the bill.”

“You will not.” Steve stood and hurried to the bar to pay. Walking back to the table, he finished his drink and pulled on his coat as Meredith did the same.

“I meant what I said about taking you and the family out. Tell Patsy she’s welcome to join us. Oh, I can tell her myself now.”

When they got outside, Steve held out his hand. “Thanks, Meredith, I think I needed that as much as you did.”

Meredith shook his hand and slapped his shoulder. “If I wouldn’t be causing anyone else marital strife, I’d tell you to warn Martha to get used to it until I can get Patsy back. Are you not in the carpark?”

“No. Parked back there out of habit. Speak soon.”

Meredith headed back to his hotel, wondering how long before he left the next message, or being optimistic, spoke to her. She’d let him have her number, so that meant one of two things. Either she wanted to speak to him, or she wanted him to stop bothering the Hodge family’s answer machine. Either way, he was one step closer.

It had gone ten before he got back to his room, having treated himself to another beer, which he took with him. Stripping off, he headed for the shower. When he got back, he had another message.

I think I like the beard. Sleep well. P x

Meredith grinned and tapped out a reply.

Have you made your brother take covert photographs of me? You only had to ask 😉

Sitting on the bed, he wondered how long it would take her to respond. It was seconds.

As if? I liked the coat too. New trainers and a new coat. You’ve been shopping, Johnny. A plane journey and shopping all within a few days. I’m impressed. P x

Meredith frowned. Unless Steve took a photograph while he was outside having a cigarette, he had no opportunity to take one of Meredith in his coat. His eyes widened.

Have you been spying on me? If so, you have an unfair advantage and a spy in the camp. How did you know I’d opt for that restaurant, or is that why Steve was away from the table so long? Feeding you information? How did it go with Maxine? PS I’m smiling that you bothered.

Meredith took a large swig of his beer.

Too many questions. I’m tired. Let’s speak tomorrow. And yes, speak. What time are you planning on using those trainers?

Still smiling, Meredith replied.

About 4am. Do you want to meet somewhere? Or I’m in room 15 if you want to call for me?

The reply didn’t take long.

Bit too early for me. I really have to get some sleep. Night, Johnny. Sweet dreams P x

Meredith didn’t want to push his luck.

They will be. You too. Johnny x

Meredith finished his drink and cleaned his teeth, wondering if he’d get any sleep. He felt like a teenager about to go on his first date. Climbing under his duvet, he picked up his laptop to look at what the team had been up to. Hopefully, Trump had given the appropriate orders.

Chapter Six

Linda looked at the screen again. The skipper was accessing files, and she wondered if he knew there was a history on every record opened. Smiling, she found what she was looking for and opened it. Of course he didn’t. It was the skipper. He only ever remembered stuff he thought was important. Leaving what she was doing, she emailed Louie.

From: LindaTrump@ccrtbristol.co.uk: 11.55

The skipper is accessing the files. What should I do?

From: LouieTrump@ccrtbristol.co.uk: 11.56

I know. Nothing. Please be discreet.

From: LindaTrump@ccrtbristol.co.uk: 11.56

You know!?! Why is it a secret?

From: LouieTrump@ccrtbristol.co.uk:11.58

Have you not got any work to do? Please get on with it. I’m preparing for my interview.

From: LindaTrump@ccrtbristol.co.uk: 11.58

I’ll ask you later. Good luck.

Louie closed his laptop and snatched up the ringing phone before anyone else could answer it. He stood and pulled his jacket off the back of his chair as he replied, and hanging up, looked at Seaton.

“They’re here, Tom.”

“Then we’d better get on with it. Bang on time too. I like punctuality.” Once downstairs, Tom slapped Trump on the back before pushing open the doors to the reception area. “I’ve got a good feeling about these two. I think they know something crucial but just don’t realise it.”

“You sound like DCI Meredith.” Trump grinned at the look of horror on Seaton’s face.

“Are you being serious?” Seaton asked.

“I am. Just try not to bellow when people could hear you whisper.”

“I’m going to ignore you now. You’ve obviously lost the plot in the guv’s absence.” Seaton stepped into reception. “Mrs Clark. This way.”

“Have a seat. We’re going to record this. I’ll just get it…there we go. Ready?”

“Yes. Well, I think so. I’m not sure why I’m here. I didn’t see or hear from either of them that morning.” Abigail Clark’s shoulders twitched. “I was as shocked as everyone else.”

“We need to get a feel for the Hawkers. What made them tick? To try to find out why Christine might leave the house without a word to Mike or the children. Why Mike would walk away from his unlocked car, leaving his phone in it? We can’t do that if we don’t know their personalities. So let’s start there. Describe the Christine you knew, warts and all.” Seaton leaned back in his chair and smiled. “Start anywhere. What she enjoyed eating, if she cursed a lot, could she dance? Anything.”

Abigail’s eyes widened. “And you think that would help?”

“I do. Because it will raise questions, and that will build a picture. I don’t want rose-coloured tints on your thoughts because I’ll get those from her family. I want to get a real feel for her.”

Abigail snorted. “You won’t get rose-coloured anything from them. They didn’t get on.”

“I didn’t know that. Why not?” Seaton asked.

“I don’t know all the details because I didn’t know her in those days, but it’s mainly because her mum was unfaithful to her dad. He died when she was fourteen. Cancer. He’d been ill for years, and when her stepdad appeared on the scene, Chris worked out that her mother’s relationship with Ronnie must have begun when her dad was still alive. She didn’t like it, and she made it known. I can imagine her being a right cow.”

“Why’s that? Did she have a temper?”

Abigail’s nose wrinkled. “Not really. But she had a sharp tongue on her. She was quick with put-downs. Mostly deserved. You know when you have a row with someone and you think about it afterwards, and wish you’d said this or that, or slapped someone?” Abigail waited for Seaton to nod. “Chris didn’t. Chris always got it right.

“Do you know what’s funny? My kids are teenagers now, full of themselves, thinking they’re the first ones to have done this, or realised that, and us ancient parents were never young, wouldn’t understand what they’re going through, and have always been boring. Well, I was having words with my youngest the other day, and this thought came to me from nowhere. I thought, poor old Debbie, how did she cope with Chris? Because I’d had to revert to the ‘this is my house, and while I pay the bills’ nonsense. Then I wished I was as quick as Chris because she wouldn’t have had to. She’d have had a comeback or put down just roll off her tongue.” Abigail inclined her head and her face fell. “But that makes her sound horrible. She wasn’t, she was a laugh, a good friend, she just didn’t take any crap.”

“Debbie being Debbie Norris, Christine’s mother?” When Abigail nodded, Seaton asked, “So, they were still at loggerheads almost twenty years on?”

“Kind of. They sort of tolerated each other. I’m really close to my mum and one year I was upset because we wouldn’t get to see her over Christmas. My mum was Mother Christmas, but she went to Canada to see her sister. I was glad for her, but it was Christmas and I wanted her home for it. When I said that to Christine, she said then I’d have to become Mother Christmas if that was what I wanted.

“She hadn’t spent Christmas Day with her mother since she was seventeen. And she was quite happy with only having to go through the motions for a couple of hours on Boxing Day. I said it was sad hating Christmas, but Chris didn’t hate it, she loved it, but only if she didn’t have to spend it with Debbie and him. Him being Ronnie. Chris never called him by name. Rarely even acknowledged him. But the weird thing was, once you’d seen that the first time, you just accepted that’s how it was. There weren’t pregnant pauses or awkwardness. She simply ignored him, and everyone went along with it. Weird, but true. I suppose they’d all given up trying by the time I knew them.”

“Why did she bother at all? I mean, you’re a friend who only knew her after all the rows were over, and yet you’ve observed all that, so there must have been a lot of contact.”

“The usual: weddings, funerals, family parties. Probably because of Mike. Mike got on well with Debbie and thought Chris had been too hard on her and should make more effort. It wasn’t fair denying the kids their grandmother because Chris had issues with her. So when there was a family do, Debbie and Ron always got an invitation. Mike and Chris always had a party on Boxing Day, and every year threw birthday parties for the kids. And Mike always invited them.”

“Did that make Christine angry? From what you’ve said so far, I thought she would have kicked off.”

“She might have, but I don’t think so. I think in a way she liked the opportunity to ignore Ron and look down her nose at Debbie. That makes her sound awful. She wasn’t, just had this thing about them she couldn’t get past. Chris knew everyone thought she was being stupid carrying it on for so long, but she didn’t care. They didn’t go to her twenty-first. She was living with Mike by then, and I’d just started seeing Simon, and all Mike’s family were there, but not hers. Then I found out about her issues with them, and I told her I thought it was weird. She said it wasn’t; it was just how it was.

“A few years later, I asked her if she thought she’d ever forgive them, and she said, 'if you got cancer now, and knew you were going to die, that you’d never live to see your grandchildren, never see your kids get married, how would you feel if you knew Simon was having it off with someone else, someone who would move into your house and try to take your place?' Well, that sort of puts it into perspective, doesn’t it? I could see where she was coming from, so I asked if her dad knew about it, and she said what difference does that make? Even if he didn’t, she knew, Debbie knew, and Ron knew. Then she shrugged and said everyone had to live with their own conscience and hers was clear.”

“And yet, as I understand it, she had a fling with Mike’s boss. How did she justify that?” Seaton asked.

“Oh God, you know about that? I’d almost forgotten.” Abigail grimaced before grinning. “If that doesn’t explain how her brain worked, nothing will. Mind you, I’ll never understand it as long as I live.” Abigail shuddered.

“Go on. Tell me about it.” Seaton smiled. “I can see it amuses you.”

“Only in a ‘oh my God’ sort of way. Mike had sex with a girl at work. They were both drunk, and she was trying to photocopy her bum. Mike walked in on her, helped her do it, and one thing led to another because she had already taken her knickers off and they were drunk. He felt awful about it. But Jo, that’s the girl, told Chris. Jo apologised, saying she was sorry, that it had meant nothing and should never have happened. Their only excuse was they’d been really drunk.”

“So she told Christine?”

“Yes, because the day after it happened, Mike had told Jo to brace herself because he’d have to confess all. He couldn’t lie to Chris. Chris had been off sick, and when she went back to work, Jo thought Chris knew so jumped in with the apologies. Chris told her to stop grovelling because, of course, Mike would have had to be drunk, and to never mention it again.

“So Mike, who’d bottled out of telling her, had no idea Chris knew until she walked up to him a few days later and told him she was going home to shower. They had a little flat on Redland Road by then. He asked her why and she said she’d just given Giles his belated Christmas present. In front of everyone. There was no doubt what his present had been. Simon said it was the most awful thing he’d ever watched. You wanted to be anywhere but there but couldn’t help wanting to stay and see what would happen next. Mike asked her what she meant, she asked what he thought she meant, and then Giles walked in, could see what was happening, got all flustered, tried to pretend nothing was going on, then Mike asked him what Chris had given him for Christmas. Can you imagine?”

“No. Sounds like a nightmare. Did you work there too?” Seaton asked.

“No. Simon told me, and I obviously asked Chris about it, mainly because of her attitude towards her mum’s infidelity. If being unfaithful was absolutely unforgiveable, one, why was she still with Mike, and two, how the hell did she manage to get it on with Giles? He was a good-looking bloke, but creepy, in that dirty old man, get your hand out of your pocket when you’re talking to me, way. You know?”

“I understand but wish I didn’t. What did she say?” Seaton asked.

“She said Jo had told her that Mike said he would tell Chris because he knew it was wrong. She had to let him know how wrong, and what better way to do it? Just like that. He’d risked everything for a quick leg-over. Now, neither of them had jobs but he still had her. If he wanted to keep her, he’d have to keep it zipped up, or she’d ruin him. What? What did I say? You look like I just revealed something.” Concern creased Abigail’s brow.

“We have only three theories we can work with about what happened to Mike and Christine. One of them is that Christine faked her own disappearance then killed Mike and stayed disappeared. Do you think he might have cheated on her again? You just said she told him she would ruin him. Killing someone is them pretty much ruined.”

“No.” Abigail rolled her eyes. “You’re way off the mark there. Even if I thought she could kill him, which I don’t believe because she loved him, Mike would never have cheated on her again, not because of the threat, but because he was besotted with her. He thought she was perfect. But more so because she wouldn’t leave her kids. Ever. She had a miserable childhood, with her dad being ill for so long and then losing him. She wouldn’t give her kids that to live with. Christine is dead. If she was alive, she’d be with her kids.”

Seaton nodded and moved on. “Okay, so she didn’t disappear. Do you think Mike killed her?”

“No, for all the reasons I just said. Anyway, what are the chances of killing your wife, doing a runner and then getting killed yourself? It’s not fair, is it? Such a lovely couple, and they were living a perfect life for them. They were happy, but it all ended like something out of the latest bestselling thriller, not real life.”

“I understand what you’re saying but that’s what happened. We need to find out why. If Christine was going to confide in someone, who would it be?”

“Mike. If she couldn’t tell him, possibly me, but that’s not how she worked. If she had something to say, she’d say it. She had lots of friends, you know girls from work, a few still from her schooldays, but I doubt she confided in anyone because she’d just deal with it. Tell whoever needed to know what was on her mind. It’s how she was. But I think if anything was worrying her she’d speak to Mike.”

“You think everything was rosy with them? No rows, no money troubles, nothing wrong? If I told you someone had said Christine always seemed to be cross with Mike, what would you say?”

“Who?” Abigail demanded.

“I’m not going to share that. You don’t think so then?” Seaton pressed for an answer.

“No. I’d not seen them for a couple of weeks, but what could go so wrong in that time? And, of course, Mike wore his heart on his sleeve so Simon would have known if there was any trouble. I suppose there’s a chance we wouldn’t have known, but it’s unlikely.”

“What about family? Other than her mum and stepdad, did they get on with the rest of the family?”

“Yes. I think so. When the half-brother turned up there was some tension, but he disappeared again. The rest of them weren’t really mentioned that much, just turned up or not at a party, had fun, went away until the next one. Like all families, you love them when you see them, then they go home, and everyone gets on with their own lives until the next time. Other than Barry and Glenys. Lovely couple, they are.”

“Tell me about the half-brother.”

“I don’t know much. I think Chris felt she was breaking a confidence but she mentioned it when she didn’t know how it would pan out.”

“Meaning what? Sorry, I don’t think we know about this brother.”

“Nor do I really. His name was Tim, or maybe Tom, and he turned up about a year before they disappeared. You’d have to check with Barry on the date that happened.”

“He was Barry’s son?” Seaton asked.

“So he claimed. All I knew was Barry had been round to see Mike and told him it looked like he had a half-brother. Son of a girl Barry had had a fling with before he married Glenys. Glenys didn’t know about it, so Chris told me to keep my mouth shut if I saw her because Barry wasn’t convinced that it was true. Didn’t know how she could have been pregnant and him not know about it, and if she was, why hadn’t she told him? I don’t know if Glenys ever found out. Nothing came of it in the end.”

“What do you mean, nothing came of it?”

“Again, you’d have to ask Simon. Mike would have told him more, and Simon wouldn’t have told me unless it was an event. All I know is this chap turns up, says I believe you’re my dad. Barry and Mike meet with him. They have a pint, and everyone goes back to where they were before. I never met him.”

“Did Christine meet him?” Seaton asked.

“I don’t think so. If she did, she never said. The last thing she said about it was the three of them had gone out for a drink, and Mike had said it was okay, but a bit awkward, and nothing had come of it.”

“You didn’t ask her why? Did they not get on?”

“I guess not. She told me about them going for a drink while we were on the bus on the way to a concert, so it was just passing conversation, if it had meant more, or caused any trouble other than Glenys’ finding out, I’m sure Chris would have said."

Seaton nodded and asked her to wait a moment while he texted Louie to ask Simon about the half-brother.

After that, their meeting went on in much the same vein for another twenty minutes before Seaton called it a day.

“Thanks, Mrs Clark. We may need to speak to you again, although I doubt it will be necessary. This way, I’ll show you out. If your husband’s still busy, I’ll grab you a drink.”

Seaton had just returned with the coffee when Trump appeared with Simon Clark. As they walked back to their office, Seaton asked Trump if he’d got the text.

“I did, but we’d already covered that. Do you want to see what he said? Not sure if there’s anything in it, but there might be.”

Trump and Seaton sat at Trump’s desk and watched the beginning of the interview.

Simon was already speaking as Trump started the recording.

“So, I’m not sure how you think we can help.” Simon told Trump.

“We’re trying to build a picture of what was happening in the Hawkers’ lives, and what they were like as people. In your original interview, you told the officer that if he wanted to know more about Christine, Abigail was the person to speak to. The original interview was a little brief and there is always the chance that things didn’t get said then out of some kind of loyalty or embarrassment, but that now, given the passage of time you’d be happy to share.” Trump took his jacket off and laid it across the chair next to him. “It’s warm in here. If you want the air-con on, do shout.”

Simon Clark was shaking his head. “There is nothing. They were just a normal couple, a normal family. Happily married, two kids, four-bed semi and holidays in Majorca. Normal. No troubles that I knew of. Mike was a good laugh, easy-going, loved being a dad, and Chris was, well, she was the boss, but probably for the best because Mike was so laid back.”

“Yes, I got that from the original interview. So, Mike just went along with whatever made life easiest.”

“Don’t we all? Are you married?”

“I am. And I agree up to a point, but isn’t there nearly always a moment when you feel you must put your foot down? Did Mike never find what that was?”

“I don’t think so. Oh, hang on. He might have had a half-brother. It came to nothing in the end. Chris thought he should at least look into it. He didn’t want to, and to the best of my knowledge, he didn’t.”

“I don’t know about this. Tell me about him. Let’s start with a name.” Despite the recorder, Trump flipped his notebook open.

“Don’t know his name. If I did, I’ve forgotten. I never met him, not even Chris did, I don’t think. It was all done and dusted in a week.”

“How do you know about him?” Trump asked.

“We were due to play pool and Mike called it off. I ribbed him about not wanting to lose, and he said he’d whip my arse, but he had to see Barry. That’s his dad. I asked if Barry was okay, and he said no, he was shitting himself. Excuse the language. Because some bloke had turned up on the doorstep saying he was Barry’s son. Some old girlfriend had had his baby. Barry didn’t believe it because she wasn’t the type to keep her mouth shut. Although it was before he married Glenys, it was around the same time they were dating. Barry had agreed to meet the bloke that night and wanted Mike to go with him. Which as excuses for getting out of losing a game of pool go, I conceded it was a good one. I was trying to make a joke of it, which Mike would be up for. But he wasn’t. Said something like try again tomorrow when I know if the shit is going to hit the fan.”

“It didn’t I take it?”

“No. They met, decided it wouldn’t be a happy ever after like you see on the telly, and everyone carried on like it never happened. You won’t tell Glenys that, will you?” Simon asked. “I don’t know if she ever found out, and I think they’re too old to have strife in their marriage. Especially since Mike.”

“No. But I will have to speak to Barry again. I saw him yesterday. He didn’t mention it,” Trump replied. “What advice did you give him about it?”

“I didn’t give any advice. You can’t really, can you? Not on something like that. He was going to meet the bloke, and they would either get on or not. He didn’t need me telling him what to do or think. Too personal. Bloody hell. I’m in for a bollocking from Barry, I reckon.” Simon tutted and leaned back in his chair. “Me and my big mouth.”

“I’m sure it will be fine. Tell me what Chris thought. You said Mike had put his foot down over it.”

“I don’t think it was huge, she said perhaps he should get to know him, he might like him, and Mike said no. He’d lived for thirty-odd years as an only child and was happy to continue that way if it kept his parents happy. They didn’t row about it. You knew when they rowed, which wasn’t often, but when they did Mike was miserable. He just told me that in passing.”

“Okay, clearly not important. If Mike had something troubling him, who would he confide in, do you think?” Trump asked.

“Depends what it was, I suppose me or Barry. He was close to his dad. Mike had other mates. You know blokes who you don’t mind going out for a pint with, but I’d say I was his closest friend.” Simon shrugged. “If I couldn’t help him, he’d go to Barry.”

Trump stopped the tape.

“Then it was pretty much, I don’t know, there wasn’t ever, etcetera, much like the first interview. How did you get on?”

“Much the same, except Christine didn’t get on with her mum and stepfather. Particularly the stepfather. She’d worked out they were seeing each other before her dad died and took it personally. So that’s two things the original investigation didn’t find out, or didn’t think important enough to mention, and as the guv would say, let’s find out what else they missed because there’s bound to be something. What do you reckon?”

“How could that be wrong, they didn’t find out what happened, did they? The question, Tom, is will we? My tummy is rumbling, I think we should grab something to eat before I call Barry Hawker again.”

“Sounds sensible. I’m off to see the neighbour, Jilly Field, this afternoon. I’ll take Kent with me, and we’ve got the Hawker kids coming in tomorrow, so I’ll get prepped once I’ve grabbed something to eat.”

Linda walked into the office and headed for her desk. “You two have found something out. I need to keep the log updated. What happened?” she asked, as Louie stepped away from his desk.

“Not sure it’s relevant to the case, but Christine didn’t get on with her parents, or more accurately her mother and stepfather, and Mike had a half-brother his father didn’t mention and his mother may not know about. Is my lunch in the fridge?”

“It is. I’ve had mine. I’ll get the log up to date now and add him to the family tree.” Linda winked at Louie and ignored his sigh as he left the room.

Seaton looked around the room, checking no one else had caught the exchange. His gaze returned to Linda. “Should I ask, or was that a wifely coded wink?”

“Ah, don’t ask me, Tom. That’s not fair. I’d better get on.”

Linda returned her attention to her laptop, and Tom went in search of his own lunch. He found Louie, sandwich in one hand, stirring a mug of coffee with the other.

“Linda said I should ask you about her wink and your sigh.”

Louie finished his mouthful and shook his head. “It’s uncanny. It really is like you’ve morphed into DCI Meredith.”

“Because I asked a question? Move over. I’ll have a coffee.” Seaton pushed Louie further along the counter with his shoulder.

“No, because you noticed it and then asked the question. Usually you wouldn’t have mentioned it,” Trump explained.

“These are not usual times. But the guv would have made Linda tell him in front of everyone. So there is something going on?” Seaton pressed on.

Trump sighed. “No. DCI Meredith messaged me earlier, asking me to keep the system up to date as he hadn’t yet spoken to Patsy, and he needed a distraction. Linda noticed he’d accessed some files. I didn’t want her to make a thing of it.”

“The distraction of a new case? I think he might have got pissy with anyone else calling that a distraction. But why the secrecy? That’s good news, isn’t it?”

“I’d like to think so. But I wanted to avoid it becoming a thing with everyone commenting on what he’d looked at and whether he was coming back. I didn’t want him to become our distraction, but I failed, or rather Linda did.” Trump took another bit of his sandwich.

“I don’t think anyone else noticed. Are you telling me you wouldn’t check to see which files?” Seaton asked.

Trump nodded and held his hand in front of his mouth. “Of course I would. But not to discuss it.”

“I see. Do you think that means he’ll interfere…I mean give his opinion at any stage? Because I do.” Seaton slopped some milk into his coffee.

“We can live in hope, Tom. In the meantime, I just hope we don’t let him down.”

At a little before four o’clock, Seaton called to Kent, “Will, grab whatever you need. Let’s go and meet this neighbour.”

As they left, Linda took advantage of being in the office alone with Trump.

“How do you feel, Louie?”

“About what, my sweet?” He eyed her over the top of his laptop.

“About the skipper checking on the files. Is it a good thing, or do you feel like he’s spying on you?” Linda asked.

“I think this is his department and he can do what he wants. If he wishes to offer words of encouragement or advice, they would be gratefully received. Is that how you see it, spying?” Trump lowered the lid of his laptop a little.

“Oh no, I think it means he’s coming back. I wonder what he’s doing now?”

“Sleeping, I hope. There’s a twelve-hour time difference. He’s already in tomorrow.” Trump returned his attention to his laptop.

“Oh yes. I forgot about that. Better get this up to date for when he wakes up.”

Chapter Seven

Still half asleep, Meredith opened one eye and listened, wondering what had woken him. The tapping came again. He closed his eye, hoping that whoever was doing the tapping was moving towards their own room. Rolling onto his side, he pulled the duvet over his shoulder.

There it was again. Irritated, he threw back the duvet and jumped out of bed. Grabbing a towel from the bathroom to wrap around his waist, he yanked open the door, intending to give someone a piece of his mind. His heart lurched as Patsy held up two cardboard coffee cups. It was one of those rare occasions Meredith was lost for words.

“You’re not ready, Johnny.”

Meredith rubbed his free hand over his face, pinching the sleep from his eyes. “For what? Come in. I was asleep.” He managed a smile.

Patsy squeezed past him. “Oh dear. Don’t worry, I’ll wait. Here. This will help. It’s disgusting because I got it from an all-night drive through, but it’ll wake you up.” Patsy pushed a cup forward.

“Are we going somewhere? What’s the time? Can I hug you?” Meredith ignored the cup.

“Maybe later. I thought you were going for a run along the beach, and I thought you invited me. Blimey, it’s hot in here.” Patsy pulled the woollen bobble hat from her head and loosened the scarf at her neck.

Meredith smiled at her, and his eyes twinkled. “You’re going to make me do it, aren’t you? You’re calling my bluff.”

Patsy grinned. “Something like that.”

Meredith pointed at her. “Challenge accepted. Stay there. Do not disappear, I need to pee, splash some water over my face and clean my teeth.

“No hurry. I’ll wait.”

When Meredith returned, Patsy was in bed. The towel was still around his waist. “May I join you?”

“Yes.”

“Do I need to put my boxers on?”

“I need a hug, Johnny. Would you just get in, please?”

Patsy threw back the duvet, and Meredith hoped his smile didn’t falter. She was fully dressed. Only the shoes, coat and scarf had gone. Climbing into bed, he lay on his side and opened his arms. Patsy wiggled forward, and he squeezed her tight while planting little kisses over her face.

“Thank you. Thank you. Thank you,” he said between kisses. Running out of steam, but not relaxing his hold, he placed his chin on her head and sighed. “It’s been far too long, Hodge.”

“I’m sorry. I think we need a plan.”

“What sort of plan?”

Patsy knew he was frowning and ran a finger down his side. “Don’t frown, you’ll get wrinkles.”

“I’ve grown a few of them recently, but so you know, I told Julia that I’m going to give middle age a miss and jump straight into doddery pensioner.”

“So, I’m guessing another thirty years. I meant a plan for us, but so you know, middle age suits you. Did my mouth fall open when you opened the door? The gym is working.”

Now she knew he was grinning, and she smiled into his chest.

“A little, but I was concentrating on steadying my heart rate. Didn’t want to faint in the doorway with my bits on show. You got away with it.”

“You shouldn’t have worried. I’d have covered you up had you fainted.”

“Oh. Disappointing. I’d rather you had taken advantage of me.”

“Oh no. I’d want you fully awake if there was any advantage taking.” Patsy giggled.

“I’m awake now, and I’ve cleaned my teeth and everything. I can feel you smiling, you know. Tell me about this plan.”

“There isn’t one yet. That’s why I’m here. We have to make one. I thought it was a bit early, but you chose the time, and given my performance over the last…” Patsy blew out a breath. “What feels like ten years, I thought I should listen to you.”

“Now that was sensible, or it would have been if I’d not challenged you. You like a challenge. I should have known better.” Meredith kissed the top of her head again.

“Not that I want you to, but I think you’ll have to, could you relax your grip a little? I think I’m suffocating.”

Meredith held back what would have been his normal response, and rolled onto his back, pulling her with him so she was nestled against his side. “Is that better?”

“It is. Thank you.”

“You might find it even more beneficial if you take your socks off. Wearing socks in bed is a sure way of raising one’s temperature.” He looked down his nose at her. “I can see you smiling now. Look at me.”

“I can’t. If I look at you, the plan won’t get made.” Patsy’s smile got bigger, and she drew circles on his chest.

“Can I make a suggestion? Because plans should be given careful consideration and carried out in stages. We should agree on the first stage, proceed with that, and then move on to the next stage once we’ve perfected stage one.”

“Yes, but—”

“No buts, Hodge, you jumped the gun. You rushed ahead, and now here we are, at the third stage.”

“You mean I should have taken my socks off before I got into bed?”

“You see, you knew stage two all along. Would you like me to do it for you?”

“Not yet. I’m savouring.”

“You have a lifetime to savour.” Meredith threw back the duvet and released her. “Take your socks off.”

“Both of them?” Patsy grinned as she sat up.

“Yes. Especially those long ones which cover your legs. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen your legs. Your best asset.”

“Hmm. I thought that was going to be my boobs.”

“I was getting to them.”

Patsy giggled and threw herself on top of him. “Stop looking at me like that,” she told him as he grunted. “You’re embarrassing me.”

Rolling her onto her back, he pinned her to the bed. “I have spent months dreaming about this moment. Granted, there were no socks involved, but you were not embarrassed. Would you like me to switch the light off?”

“Please. But don’t forget the plan.”

“We’ll call this stage one, Hodge. Stage one will possibly be the best one.”

Meredith opened his eyes. He had dozed off. He smiled, but dared not move. Patsy was back. Almost. If he didn’t move, she wouldn’t wake and suggest she had to go. He looked down at the top of her head, and her fingers splayed on his chest. He sighed, knowing he had to get this right. Reaching out his free arm, he grappled for his phone to check the time. It slipped off the side of the bedside cabinet, landing with a dull thud out of reach.

Patsy raised her head. “Hello, Johnny.”

“I’m sorry. I was trying not to wake you.”

Patsy sat up with a jerk. “Shit. What’s the time?” Jumping off the bed, she checked the time. “Bugger. Where are my knickers?”

“You are not leaving.”

“I am. I didn’t mean to sleep. Help me find my knickers. Don’t worry, I’ll go commando.” Patsy stepped into her joggers and pulled them up. She then pulled her jumper over her head.

Meredith sat up. “You are not leaving.”

“I am, Meredith. I have to go.”

“That was an order, not a question. I mean it, Patsy, I am not letting you out of my sight. We’ve not perfected the plan yet.”

Patsy’s urgent movements stilled, and she looked at him. “I thought it was perfect, didn’t you? Look, Meredith, I’ll explain why later, but I have to go.”

“Then I’m coming with you, and yes, better than perfect.” Meredith went to the wardrobe and pulled his own joggers from the shelf. “No, knickers, no bra. I’m guessing this isn’t a formal appointment. I’ll join you in commando mode.” Pulling open the drawer, he pulled out a pair of socks and sat on the edge of the bed. “Where are we going?”

“Home. Steve’s. I stole his car, he might call the police.”

“Did you not leave a note?”

“Yes, of course, but I was in a hurry. I woke up, it was half three, and I didn’t want to be late. I told him I’d do the school run, but not that I was taking his car. He probably thinks I’m still in bed.”

Meredith grinned at her. “I wouldn’t have noticed if you were a little late.”

“Stop talking and find my other sock.”

“It’s on the pillow. You could just call him, you know.” Now fully dressed, Meredith laced his shoes.

“Well, why didn’t you suggest that earlier?” Patsy picked up her phone, and an amused Meredith listened to the one-sided conversation. “Steve it’s me. I’ve got your car, but I’ll be back in about twenty minutes, so you can stick to your plan … Yes … Yes … YES. How many times are you going to ask me that? … Yes … Okay. Hi, Lizzie … Yes … Yes. As soon as you get off the phone … Yes, that one. The one that leaves the messages, yes.” Patsy looked at Meredith and grinned. “You will. Because I do … He’s very handsome … I don’t know, I’ll ask him … I think so … Oh, I don’t know. We need a plan. Look, Lizzie, get off the phone and I’ll be there sooner … Okay … Okay. Orange juice. I’ll have something … okay. That would be lovely. I’m going now. ’Bye. ’Bye, ’bye, ’bye.” Patsy hung up and pulled on the errant sock. “Lizzie is nine, and looking forward to meeting you. If there’s time, she’s also going to do breakfast. But we need to move. Martha needs to be gone by seven-thirty.”

Meredith pulled on his coat. “I’m ready. It’s you hopping around with one shoe on.”

True to her word, twenty minutes later, Patsy pulled into the drive. The door to the house opened and a grinning Steve stepped out.

“In the nick of time. Meredith, well done. Haven’t got time to chat. Martha has a plane to catch.”

Martha appeared followed by Lizzie, who stared at Meredith. He winked at her, and she giggled. Martha gave Meredith a brief hug, whispered ‘thank you’ and climbed into the seat he’d vacated.

“Lizzie, go inside, you’ll freeze. Patsy, everything is ready to go, except the getting dressed. Sorry, I tried. Meredith, Steve tells us you’ll take us out with the kids, if they behave for Aunty Patsy. Remind them, of that, it might help.”

Meredith assured her he would and pointed at Lizzie, then at the door of the house. Lizzie ran in, giggling.

When Meredith followed Patsy into the house, a row of boys greeted him.

The eldest was sitting on the stairs, glaring at Meredith. “You’re the one that makes her cry,” he accused.

“Not intentionally. I missed her. I’m here now. She won’t cry again. I’m Meredith, and you, I know, are Marky. You were smaller last time we met.” Meredith held out his hand and a bemused eleven-year-old shook it.

“You know I’m not an adult, don’t you?” Marky asked.

“I do. But as the oldest, and as your dad isn’t here, you’re in charge, aren’t you?”

Marky grinned. “I suppose.”

“That’s what I thought. That was always my job. I was the eldest too. Everything always got blamed on me. It’s a tough job.”

“Tell me about it.” Marky got to his feet, no longer on guard.

“We’ll have to sit down and compare notes.” Meredith looked at the other two. “You’re the shortest, so you’re Joseph. Which makes you Josh. Am I right?” They all nodded. “Have you had breakfast?”

“No. Lizzie said Aunty Patsy would do it.”

“Well, Lizzie might have been wrong. What time do you have to be at school?”

Joseph put his hand up. “I know that. Nine o’clock.”

“Do you know how long it takes to get there?” Meredith smiled as Josh’s hand shot into the air. “Josh.”

“Twenty minutes. Unless the traffic is bad,” Josh told him.

Meredith looked at his watch. “In which case we have plenty of time, if, and only if, you promise to get dressed quickly.”

“Why? What are you going to do?” Josh asked.

“A fry-up, I hope. I’m English, that’s why I don’t speak with a funny voice like you lot. Have you had a full English before?”

“What’s in it?” Marky asked.

“I don’t speak with a funny voice,” Josh said, hands on his hips. “You do. You sound a bit like Dad.”

“Well, I knew it was one of us. Which way’s the kitchen?”

They all pointed behind him and when Meredith turned, Patsy was standing there smiling. “Good luck with that. I don’t think any of them like more than two things the same. Easier to stick to cereal and toast.”

“I shall ignore that, I’ve just made a promise.” Meredith took hold of Lizzie’s hand. “Can you write? Patsy says this lot are fussy. We’ll have to take orders. You are my assistant.”

“I’ve got the best writing,” Lizzie told him solemnly. “Better than Marky’s.”

“Then we’re off and running. Lead the way.”

Steam rose from various pans and Meredith looked at the four children facing him. “I think we’re ready to go. Mrs Meredith, have you buttered the toast?”

“Almost there, chef.”

“Well, hurry up or Lizzie gets your job. Lizzie, what did you write down for Joseph?”

Two hours later, Patsy climbed back into the car with all the children safely deposited at school.

“Well done, Johnny. You have stolen all my thunder, but I forgive you. We’d better get back and clear up the mess.”

“You’re the driver. I’ll wash, you wipe.”

“I don’t think so. They have a dishwasher.”

Back at the house, they cleaned up the kitchen. Patsy hung the cloth on the tap and yawned. “That was an exhausting start to the day, I don’t think I’d have coped without you. Thank you.”

“Yes, you would. They adore you. But I agree you need me, Hodge. And don’t start yawning, because it was you who woke me up in the middle of the night.”

“I did. I thought you wanted to walk along the beach and talk. You didn’t.”

“Not at that moment, no. There’s plenty of time, I’m going nowhere.” Meredith stretched his hands above his head and yawned. “Your fault. I was doing well.”

“Would you like to talk now?” Patsy asked.

“If you’d like to. Personally, I’d like to sleep first. Like I said, there’s plenty of time, Patsy, unless it’s what you need to do. What? Why did you raise your eyebrows like that?”

“Because you called me Patsy. That means you’re worried about me. I prefer it when you call me Hodge, I think. Now you’re laughing at me.”

Meredith held out his arms. “I’m not laughing at you. I’d never do that. Shed a few tears, but never laugh. It’s just that when I call you Hodge, I’m under the illusion I’m in charge. If I’m in charge, the talking gets put on hold. I was smiling, not laughing, because I knew what I would order you to do.”

“Which was what?” Patsy asked, stepping closer.

“To show me to this garage that you live in, get undressed before you get into bed and let me sleep.”

“Oh. You don’t want to go back to the hotel?”

“Not unless you’re coming with me.”

Patsy took his hand and led him through the door at the end of the kitchen, across the garage, and opened another door. “Up here, quick shut the door, all the heat will escape.”

Meredith pulled the door shut and followed her up the stairs into the large open-plan room. A small kitchenette with a bistro table was in one corner, and a flat-screened television sat on the opposite wall in front of which was a comfortable-looking settee.

He pulled open the door to his right and found the shower room. “Very nice.” He peeped around the gap in the wall and found the bedroom area. On the bedside cabinet was a picture of him sitting on a beach in Devon. He turned to face Patsy. “Are you Hodge or Patsy at the moment?”

“I’m knackered, so I’m not sure.”

“Then Hodge it is. Strip off and get in that bed. You go that way, I’ll go this. We’ll meet at the bed.” Meredith was already taking off his jumper. In seconds, he was in bed and watching her undress. He pulled the duvet over her and held her close. “No talking at the moment. No stage two, yet. Just sleep, Hodge. I can’t remember the last time I had a decent sleep. I think it’s going to be today.” He kissed the top of her head. “’Night, Hodge.”

“It’s ten o’clock in the morning.”

“Do you want to proceed to stage two?”

“Not yet.”

“Then say goodnight.”

“’Night, Johnny.”

Meredith grinned into her hair. “Properly.”

“’Night, Meredith.”

“Thank you. ’Night, Hodge.”

Chapter Eight

Trump placed his coffee down and tapped the board. “As you all know, yesterday we found out two things we didn’t previously know. The first is that there was a half-brother. Although his brief appearance was about a year before the Hawkers disappeared. I will follow that up with Barry Hawker in an hour. I think it’s safe to assume his wife doesn’t know about it, as he was keen not to discuss it over the telephone. Once we have his identity, he will need to be interviewed. We also know that Christine Hawker didn’t get on with her mother and stepfather. Mr and Mrs Norris get back from Tenerife on Sunday, we’ll contact them on Monday. This morning, Will and Tom will speak to Charlotte and Oscar Hawker. They were very young when their parents disappeared, so are unlikely to help us much. What might help us is Tom’s interview with the neighbour. Tom, run us through it.”

Seaton got to his feet but remained standing by his desk. “As you know, Will and I met with Jilly Field, the neighbour who lived behind the Hawkers. The Hawkers lived in a cul-de-sac, which provided no access to vehicles. Garages were at the rear of the back garden and accessed by a lane. On the other side of the lane is an identical set up. Jilly’s garden was opposite the Hawkers. Her son and Charlotte were in the same class, and the two families often walked to school together, or covered for the other if necessary. Barry Hawker questioned why his son hadn’t asked Jilly if Christine had gone to her that morning, rather than just ask the old chap next door. Both Jilly and Christine were on/off smokers and were often found chatting over a smoke in the lane. The Hawkers had a six-foot fence with a gate to the lane. Jilly has a three-foot picket fence. From her rear windows, you can see all the comings and goings along the lane. I took a few photos which will go on the file. Jill—”

“You do know if Meredith were here he’d be shouting 'headlines', don’t you?” George called out. “Do the juicy stuff and put the details in the report.”

“Thanks, George, I was trying to paint you a picture. Have it your way. I’ll get it typed up now.” Seaton pulled out his chair, hoping his amusement didn’t show.

“Stop being dramatic. What’s the headline?”

“Jilly didn’t see Christine that morning, although she did see a white, transit style van in the lane. Stopped between the two gardens. From memory, she said it was about half seven because she hadn’t got dressed and it was there when she opened her blinds, but she wasn’t sure how long or what it was doing there, as her dog had thrown up in the hall. By the time she’d sorted that out it had gone. She saw Mike Hawker going next door sometime later, and then him loading the kids into the car to take them to school. Jilly assumed Christine was poorly. And before you ask, other than the colour, she noticed nothing else about the van. Couldn’t even tell me if the driver was sitting at the wheel. On the bright side, we now know Christine may have been bundled into the van, which is why there were no sightings of her.”

“Let’s hope the secret brother or the stepfather is wicked, and only one of them owns a white van. Then Meredith will be impressed. Anything else?” George winked at Seaton.

“Not at the moment, George, no. But it might be useful if we get a reconstruction agreed. That’s it, that’s all we’ve got.”

“You didn’t mention I was meeting the lads who attended the original call-out today. They’re bringing their notebooks, if they can find them, and I’ve got their original reports. Might help if we can’t track down any of the neighbours around at the time.”

“When?” Trump asked. “It’s not in the diary, is it?”

“No. Didn’t give a time. They just said they’d pop in today. One of them is retired, the other is on duty.” George shrugged. “Does it matter?”

“George. Everything matters,” Linda told him, hands on hips. “If…anyone was looking at how we’re getting on, they would see the full picture. If you haven’t got a time, just put it in at the beginning of the day with an explanation.”

“You mean if Meredith is looking, don’t you? Who else would look? Is he looking? Might leave him a couple of messages if he is.” George smiled as Linda flushed and tried to avoid looking at Louie.

“Who knows, he might. Thank you, George.” Linda kept her eyes glued to her screen as Seaton told them to get on with something useful.

The Hawker children arrived, Tom Seaton took Oscar and Will Kent, Charlotte Hawker.

With blonde wavy hair, a small nose and full lips, Charlotte bore a striking resemblance to her mother, but without the confidence they’d been told Christine had. Kent settled her into the interview room with a glass of water.

“Thanks for coming in, Charlotte. I expect your grandparents have explained that we’ve reopened your parent’s case.”

Charlotte nodded. “Call me Lottie. No one calls me Charlotte. I don’t know what you expect of me. I was only a kid.”

“Do you remember your parents?” Kent asked.

“Yes, of course. Although, it’s more like a general memory of them as opposed to personal stuff. Except when I got stuck up a tree at the park, and Daddy swore because he tore his new T-shirt. I remember that. But it’s just like I know Daddy used to chase us or hide behind stuff and then jump out. We loved him scaring us. I remember Christmas mornings, and Mum singing on Boxing Day. But not specifically, if you know what I mean. More the feelings. Does that sound weird?”

“Not at all. Can I show you the recording made of you the day after they went missing?” Kent asked.

“Yes. Sure.”

Charlotte leaned forward as Kent hit the play button and turned the tablet to face her.

“Oh my God. Look how young Grandad looks. Wow.”

Kent watched Charlotte’s expression change as the video played. She blinked and flicked her finger over the corner of her eye a few times. The video stopped and Charlotte she looked at Kent.

“Can I have a copy of that? Is it allowed?”

“I’m don’t see why not. Can I ask why?”

“Because we were sort of still a family then. That was before they were missing up here.” Charlotte tapped the side of her head and huffed out a breath. “I never really cried. At first, it was like we were on holiday and then when we went home to our house, it was like we were just waiting, and by the time we were told they weren’t likely to come back, we were used to them not being there. I felt sad but I didn’t cry. I did used to get jealous when my friends talked about their parents, though. Used to think mine were mean for not taking us with them, wherever they’d gone. By the time I was old enough to work out that something horrible must have happened to them, I just felt sort of numb, and that made me feel guilty.” Charlotte tapped the screen. “I sort of remember that day.”

“What do you remember about it?” Kent asked softly.

“I remember the smell of Mrs Burns' office and Grandad panicking when he got there, and I wondered if we’d be in trouble the next day for being picked up late and if Mrs Burns was only being nice because Granddad was there. I remember Granny apologising for not having any fish fingers and letting us have as many helpings of pudding as we liked. And I remember, in the morning, before school, breaking Oscar’s tower on purpose. He had been ignoring me.”

“What did your dad say?”

“He asked if it had been intentional, I said no, and he said, well let’s get on and have a nice day then, or something like that. He was always happy. I remember that. Mummy was the one who chased after us and nagged us to do stuff.” Charlotte smiled and made puppet hands as her brother had. “That was our joke about her. But she wasn’t mean, just being a mum. She used to say it was lucky for us one of them had some sense.”

“Do you remember thinking she was cross all the time?” Kent asked.

Charlotte shook her head. “No. I’m guessing I meant the nagging thing. I remember her laughing. Daddy joking and her laughing. I think they were happy.”

“Do you remember the night before? Did anything happen that has stuck in your mind?”

“No, nothing. Sorry. Yesterday, I was talking to Oscar about what he could recall about our lives before they disappeared. And like me he can only remember feelings about things, not really the memory of the actual thing. Oscar said he remembers loving getting into bed with our parents because it made him feel safe and missing that when we went to live with Granny and Grandad. They got up too early for morning cuddles, and Oscar used to try to stay awake until they came up to bed so he could see if it was the same with them. He never managed it. It’s sad that, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it is. But you should take it as a comfort to know how much you were loved.” Kent glanced at his pad. “So, moving away from that day, is there anything at all that you can remember being a little odd? Any shouting, unexpected phone calls or visitors? That sort of thing.”

“Nope. I remember them wrestling on the couch that week. Daddy was trying to grab Mummy’s phone. I don’t remember what was said or why, but they were laughing because me and Oscar jumped on top of them. But that’s about it. It’s one of those happy feeling memories. I know it happened, and I remember giggling so much I had to run to the loo. But not the image, just the knowledge. It’s weird and very frustrating. I want to see her face laughing and trying to wiggle out from the bottom of the pile. Oh, wow. I remember Daddy shouting, ‘Stop her! Don’t let her escape.’ I’ve only just remembered that. Before it was just the cards getting wafted down from the shelf.” Charlotte’s smile was wide. “I didn’t know I knew that.”

Kent returned her smile. “I’m glad remembering has made you happy. What cards?”

“My birthday cards. We kept all our birthday cards up for a week. They went along the windowsill and on the shelf above the radiator. That was near the couch, so when we were all jumping about, the draught made them fall. It’s how I know it was that week. My birthday was on the Sunday, Grandad had to pick us up on the Wednesday. They were still up when we came back to the house. Granny said it was okay to leave them a little longer. I’ve still got them all, I had loads if nineteen is loads. Lucky if I get half a dozen now. Everyone sends texts and stuff, only the oldies buy cards.”

“Oldies like me or your grandparents?” Kent asked with a grimace. He was twenty-nine but knew that might seem ancient to a nineteen-year-old.

“You’re not old really. Yes, like the grandparents.” Charlotte’s nose wrinkled.

“You get on with your grandparents, okay, don’t you?” Kent asked.

“Yes, of course. It’s better now I’m working, but being a teenager with ancient bodyguards is tough. I used to have to sneak out if I wanted to stay out later than ten o’clock, and it’s not like I was doing anything wild, just chatting with my mates and stuff. Having a nine o’clock curfew is tough when you’re fifteen.”

“Yes, I’m sure. What about your mum’s parents? Do you keep in touch with them?”

“Yes. Well, sort of. We used to see them every birthday and Christmas, now it’s just a quick visit at Christmas. I don’t know why.” Charlotte frowned as though trying to remember something. “I’m going to say the grandmothers fell out over something, but I could be making that up.”

“We’ve been told your mum didn’t get on with her parents, particularly her stepdad, did you know that?”

“No, although I remember waking up when a door slammed and going downstairs to see if I could stay up, but Mum, or was it Dad, well one of them telling me to go back to bed, and Mum saying, ‘and that’s what it’s like for me, with her and him’. I knew she was talking about Gran and Grampa Ron because she never called them by name. I remember now, I was with Dad because I asked him what she was talking about, and he said it was just Mum being silly.”

“Why do you think you remember that? Was it around the time they went missing?”

Charlotte shook her head. “I don’t know. I don’t even know why I remember that particular time because I was always trying to sneak down and watch the TV with them at night.”

Kent tried to keep her talking about her birthday week, but after twenty minutes he realised he wouldn’t be able to resurrect any more memories. He showed her out and walked back to the office with his hands shoved in his pockets, wondering if the wrestling over the phone might be a clue. He didn’t hold out much hope for Tom’s interview with Oscar, as he’d been even younger when their parents disappeared.

Seaton pushed open the door to the interview room with a smile.

“Don’t look so nervous, it’s only a chat. It won’t take long.”

“I’m not nervous, I’m…irritated I suppose.” Oscar Hawker dropped onto the chair indicated and slumped back, allowing his body to slide lower.

“Irritated? An odd emotion. Why irritated?” Seaton asked, sitting opposite him.

“Because I can’t help you. I barely remember them. I only know what they look like because Gran has so many photos around the house, and I suppose I feel like I should be able to help.”

Seaton switched on his tablet and turned it to face Oscar. “This is the interview with you and Charlotte, the morning after they went missing. Perhaps it will help.”

Oscar watched the video, his head shaking from time to time. He looked at Seaton as it ended. “Nothing. I recognise Grandad, although he looks totally different now, and I know it’s me and Lottie, but I can’t remember that at all. Lottie was telling me last night that we had to wait in the headteacher’s office for Grandad to come and get us, and we had biscuits. I don’t even remember the headteacher let alone the biscuits.”

“Okay, what about Charlotte saying your mum was always cross with your dad? Do you remember that?”

“Nope. I remember I missed them, especially at bedtime and first thing in the morning. I remember the seven0-0 thing. And I can remember Dad putting me back to bed because it was too early, and me trying to ask Mum instead. You know the: Mum can I do something because Dad said I couldn’t kind of thing, but she wasn’t there. So I argued with him that if Mum was already up I wouldn’t be waking her and there was now enough room for me in the bed.”

Oscar shrugged. “And I can remember being the first one down on Christmas morning and looking for all the presents with O on because they would be mine, and Mum finding me and telling me to go back to bed because those were family presents, and Santa hadn’t been yet.” Oscar shrugged again. “But that won’t help you, will it?”

“The memory of your mum not being in bed, was that the morning she burnt the porridge?” Seaton asked.

“I don’t know, possibly. Maybe because…” Oscar’s eyes widened. “I remember I got up because Mum and Dad were whispering outside my door, so I thought it was past seven. Dad said he was going back to bed and so I thought I’d go with him but waited for their bed to creak before I got up. I don’t know if that was that day though, and even if it was, it doesn’t help, does it?”

“Not at the moment but you never know, it might later in the investigation. Do you remember the fire alarm going off?”

“No. Lottie remembers Dad taking us to school and everything. Me, nothing.” Oscar linked his fingers behind his head.

“Okay, let’s try looking at it a different way. How did your mum and dad get on with the grandparents?”

“Okay, I guess. I don’t know. I keep telling Lottie this. If I can’t remember what they look like without a photograph, how can I have memories? Lottie remembers parties and stuff, me nothing. It’s like I didn’t exist.”

Seaton nodded. “Okay, son, I’ll let you get back to college. Thanks for coming in.”

As Seaton opened the door to the street, Oscar took hold of his arm.

“Just because I don’t remember them, doesn’t mean I don’t want you to find out what happened, and who killed my dad, and probably my mum. I think Gran needs that. You will find out, won’t you?”

“We’ll do our best, I promise you that.” Seaton slapped Oscar on the back. “We’ve got a good track record, so keep your fingers crossed.”

Seaton walked back to the office slowly. This would have been a tough one without Meredith and Hodge being absent, and he wondered how long the CCRT would last if Meredith didn’t come back. As he entered the office, Louie Trump was coming out.

“I’m taking it you got nothing judging by the look on your face. Let’s hope the old man is more useful. He’s just arrived,” Trump said, as they were passing.

“Fingers crossed,” Seaton called as Trump headed down the stairs.

Chapter Nine

Trump found Barry Hawker pacing up and down.

“Mr Hawker. This way.” Trump smiled and held his hand towards the corridor behind him.

Hawker stopped pacing and looked him up and down. “Come on then, I’ve got better things to do with my time. And you’d better not have said anything to him.” He jerked his head towards the exit.

“No, I haven’t spoken to Oscar about it, and just to reassure you, the entire team knows this is sensitive. Shall we?” As Trump led the way, he asked, “Can I get you a drink or anything before we start?”

“Nope. Get on with it,” Hawker snapped.

Once Hawker was settled, Trump started the recorder and smiled at him. “Thank you for coming in. When we went through your family tree yesterday, you didn’t mention you had another son,” Trump stated, and fell silent, waiting for Hawker to answer.

Hawker chewed on his bottom lip before answering. “That’s because I don’t have another son. I have no sons. My only son was murdered.”

“Ah, is that because our information is incorrect, and if we do some digging we won’t find one? Or perhaps it’s because you won’t acknowledge that fact because you don’t want Mrs Hawker to find out. I promise you that unless it becomes relevant to the case, his existence will remain a secret.”

“I don’t have another son.” Hawker folded his arms across his chest.

“Let me ask this question another way. Did someone turn up out of the blue claiming to be the love child of you and a former girlfriend? Going by the name of Tim or Tom, I was told.”

Hawker jabbed his finger on the table. “Who’s been telling you all this? Why are you believing it?”

“Can’t reveal that, I’m afraid, but two separate people volunteered that information without any prompting. I can advise it came from your son in the first instance.”

Hawker rubbed his hands over his face and cursed. “Bloody hell. I told him not to tell anyone, and I don’t know why he even told Christine because I knew this would happen.” He tutted and shook his head at Trump.

“Shall we start again?” Trump asked. “Why don’t you start with the first contact and end with the last? I’ll ask questions afterwards.” Trump released the nib of his pen and placed it on his notebook. “How did he contact you?”

Barry Hawker threw his tool bag into the back of the van, stretched his arms above his head and yawned. It had been a long day, and all he wanted was a bath, some food, and to put his feet up in front of the television. Locking the door of the van, he stepped up onto the pavement and walked straight into someone.

“Sorry about that. I should have looked first.” Hawker twitched a smile and headed for the cab.

“Barry Hawker?” the man asked, and Hawker turned back to face him.

“Who’s asking?”

The man held his hand out. “My name’s Tim. Tim Arnold. I wonder if you could spare me ten minutes to have a chat.”

“What about? Look, I don’t want to be rude, but it’s been a long day, and it’s not over yet.” Hawker leaned against the driver’s door.

“I know that feeling. I’m on the tools too. Electrician.”

“Oh, one of those who thinks they’re God’s gift. Make a load of mess and bugger off before you get your hands dirty cleaning it up. Are you after work?”

“No. Although, yes, if there’s any going. But it’s personal, not business.” Tim Arnold smiled. “We can chat in the van if you prefer.”

“Personal? What sort of personal? Do I know you?” Hawker looked Arnold up and down before squinting at his face and shook his head. He looked like most lads of his age. Jeans, T-shirt, trainers, cap. His face was vaguely familiar, but he’d probably seen him on site. “Out here will do.”

“Please yourself, I tried.” Tim swallowed and drew in a breath. “I’m your son,” he announced, then grimaced. “I’d rather not have done this in the street, shall we?” He pointed to a café on the other side of the road.

Hawker laughed. “No, we shan’t. Did one of that lot put you up to this? Because very funny, ha, ha, and all that, but I’m knackered and I’m going home.” Pulling open the door, he climbed into the van. “Nice try. Have a nice evening.”

Tim caught the door before it closed. “I know this is a shock. But it’s true. Do you remember Annie Beaumont? She’s my mum. The man I’ve been calling dad for the last thirty-five years died, and she only recently told me. Long story, but I was helping her sort out some stuff, and I worked out they’d not even met until after I was born. Jack, that’s my dad, adopted me after they got married. I was born in 1976, they met in ’77 and married in ’78.”

Hawker remained silent as he considered this. He remembered Annie Beaumont; she was a laugh, and yes, he remembered their encounter at the rugby club, and then again, a week later in her little bedsit. But it was a fleeting thing. It wasn’t a relationship, just a bit of fun. He was engaged to Glenys at the time, but she’d gone to stay with her friend in Cheltenham; he hadn’t got an invitation, and he was sulking, so when Annie had given him the come on, he hadn’t considered saying no. It was something and nothing, very enjoyable but not going anywhere because when Glenys called to say she was on her way home, he felt guilty. He loved Glenys, and if she ever found out, she’d kick him into touch. She had very firm views on fidelity. Eventually, he shook his head again.

“Nope. Sorry means nothing.” Hawker slapped Tim’s shoulder and gave a brief smile. “Sorry, mate, I think your mum’s got it wrong.”

“I don’t think so. She’s not a liar. I’ve seen Mike, and he’s definitely my brother.” Arnold shrugged. “I know this is a shock. I get that. Let me give you—”

“You’ll give me nothing. I’m not your dad. Keep away from my family. We don’t need some chancer…”

Hawker’s words died away as Tim pulled off his cap. A mop of russet curls appeared. Arnold spread his fingers and agitated them. Hawker mirrored the action. His own hair was shorter, but he’d once worn his in a similar style. Hawker’s mouth opened, and he snapped it shut. What could he say? Arnold was probably telling the truth. He was the right age, Hawker had had a fling with his mother, and no one would choose to have hair that colour.

Tim looked across the road again. “So, can I buy you a coffee?”

“No. No thanks. I should be somewhere else, so I have to go.” Hawker pulled on the door handle, but Arnold held the door open.

“I know this is a shock. Why don’t we meet tomorrow? I’d like to get to know you, but understand you need to think about this. Let’s meet for a beer and see how things go. If you don’t like me, or don’t want to take this any further, then we’ll call it a day. Please, what’s the worst that can happen?” Tim pulled a card from his back pocket. “Ring me. If I don’t hear from you, I’ll have a chat with Mike. Might be nice to have a brother.”

“You will not! Is that a threat? Look, give me a couple of days. I’ll give you a ring.”

“Tomorrow. Call me tomorrow. Please.”

Trump looked up as Hawker fell quiet. “Are you sure you don’t want me to get you some water? I can see you’re distressed.”

“No, and of course I’m upset. This has nothing to do with Mike and Christine. Nothing. Dragging it all up like this is totally unnecessary. Jesus.”

“But we don’t know that. The appearance of Tim Arnold was a new thing in your life. Both yours and Mike’s, it’s something that at least warrants a conversation. Do you have contact details for Mr Arnold? You said he gave you a card. Did you write his number down?”

Hawker pulled his wallet from his back pocket and opened it on the desk. After a brief struggle, he pulled out a card from a compartment intended to hold credit cards, and pushed it across the desk. It said simply: Tim Arnold - Electrician, below which was a mobile number. Trump copied the number and pushed the card back. Hawker shoved it in with the ten-pound note and snapped it shut.

“You can’t think he had anything to do with it? Do you? Do you think that?” Hawker asked, tapping the wallet with the flat of his hand. “Why?”

“I don’t think anything at the moment, but I’d like to speak to him. Tell me about the meeting. I know Mike went with you.”

“How do you know…don’t bother answering. I know you won’t tell me. She’s going to find out, isn’t she? Glenys will find out.” Hawker’s eyes filled with tears, and he looked away until he’d composed himself. “What do you want to know? I want to go home.”

“Nearly there. Tell me about the meeting with Mr Arnold.”

Hawker agreed to call Tim the next day, and the door was released. In a daze, he drove to The Downs, along Circular Road, and parked near Sea Walls. Getting out of the van, he walked to the railings and looked down at the Avon. The tide was out, and the river was almost the same colour as the muddy banks flanking it. His mind was whirring with possibilities. Perhaps Glenys wouldn’t find out. Perhaps if he met with Tim Arnold and explained how his existence being made public couldn’t happen and that he had a son, and he didn’t want or need another one. It was a brief encounter thirty-odd years ago, so surely the man would realise you couldn’t just appear and expect happy families. What did he want from it? Arnold had said Annie’s husband had died, and he’d called him dad. Why did he need another one? Had he had a poor relationship with him? Did it matter? Hawker hadn’t got on with his own father, although he had a good relationship with Mike.

Mike. He’d call Mike. He had a different way of looking at most things. Perhaps he could help. Not giving himself time to back out, he called his son. His real son. The one he’d watched come into the world.

“Hello, Dad. How’s it going?” Mike answered. He sounded happy.

“Where are you?”

“Just finished my last appointment, so I’m going home. Why? Was I supposed to be somewhere?”

“No. No. I need to speak to you. Where are you exactly?” Hawker asked.

“Oh, right. Pembroke Road. Is everything okay? You sound weird.”

“No, it’s bloody not. I’m at the Sea Walls. Drive up and meet me…please.”

“Should I be worried? I’m nearly back at the car. I’ll be five minutes. What’s wrong?” Mike asked.

“I’ll tell you when you get here.”

Mike parked a few yards behind his father’s van and sprinted to join him. “What’s going on? Why are you here?”

Hawker ran his hands through his hair as he looked at his son’s russet curls. Mike’s hair was a different style to Arnold’s, but the colour and the curls were the same. He stared at Mike’s face, same shaped nose too. Shit.

“Dad, what is it? Why are you looking at me like that? Is Mum okay?” Mike placed a hand on his father’s shoulder.

“She won’t be if she finds out,” Hawker replied. “I’ve got another son.”

Mike grinned. “What? Come on, don’t muck about. You had me worried then.”

Hawker pointed to a bench. “I need to sit down before I fall down, and I’m not joking, Mike. I’ve just met him.”

Mike sat side on to his father so he could look at him. “You’ve just met your son, one I know nothing about? You’re going to have to start at the beginning. Mum’s going to go ballistic.”

“Your mother can never find out. Not if I have my way. Jesus, can you imagine?”

“Dad, get on with it.”

Hawker replayed the conversation he’d had with Tim Arnold. Mike listened, his grin growing wider.

“It’s not bloody funny, Mike. Get rid of that stupid grin. I got my leg over. She was a laugh, it was a one-off. Or two off, but it was nothing. I’m not getting divorced at my age for a bit of fun when I wasn’t much more than a kid.” Hawker covered his face with shaking hands.

“Okay, calm down. Assuming it’s true, this was all before you were married. Mum didn’t think she was marrying a virgin, did she? She’ll understand. It’ll be fine once she’s over the shock.” Mike patted his father’s knee. “It’ll all be fine, Dad. Take a deep breath, you’re shaking.”

“I’m shaking because I’m shit scared. She will not bloody understand because she won’t find out. I said I’d phone him because he said he’d come and see you if I wasn’t interested. You could tell him you’re not interested, and he’ll go away.”

“But he might be your son, Dad. Don’t you want to get to know him? I think you should at least give him a chance.”

“No might about it. He’s got our hair, and your nose. I can’t give him a chance, and I don’t need another son, because I’m happy with the one I’ve got. I also love your mother and won’t have her upset.”

“I think she’d just be shocked. She’d get over it. This was before you were married, so it’s not divorce material. The least you could do is meet with him. He might not like you once he gets to know you.” Mike smiled and nudged his father with his shoulder. “I barely tolerate you.”

“Bloody joking at a time like this. You come with me then. But none of this ‘she might accept it’ nonsense. We’ve got to stick to she wouldn’t. Then he’ll know there’s no chance of it going any further. And we might not have been married, but the date was set, and we were engaged. She won’t see the difference, to her cheating is cheating. You know what she’s like.”

Mike nodded. “Okay. Give him a ring, arrange to meet. Christine is going to love this. I hope she doesn’t stop speaking to you, too.”

“Don’t you tell her. Don’t tell anyone. One meeting, done, dusted, over, forgotten. Promise me, Mike.” Hawker stood up and started pacing up and down in front of the bench. “Only you and me can know about this. Don’t want anyone slipping up in front of your mother.”

“Dad, Christine is my wife, she will want to know why I’m going out, and who with. It’s what they do. I’m not lying to her.”

“Meaning I’ll be lying to your mother, I suppose. Well, I won’t. I’ll tell her I’m going for a pint with you. You can do the same.”

“That’s lying by omission. But okay, because at this rate you’re going to give yourself a heart attack. But we’re skint at the moment, and if I have another night out, she will probably ask what the occasion is. I won’t lie.”

“Tell her it’s my treat. Right, let’s get this over with.” Hawker pulled the card from his pocket and his hands shook as he tapped out the number. “Tim? It’s Barry Hawker. I’ll meet with you, and I’ll bring Mike, my son…Any day you like, the sooner the better. Tonight? Yes, sure, why not? Where?” Hawker ignored his son’s wagging finger and turned his back to him. “Okay. Let’s say eight o’clock. ’Bye.”

“I can’t do tonight, Dad. I’ve got pool.”

“Not now, you haven’t. This is far more important. We’re meeting in the White Lion at eight. I’ll pick you up.”

“No. I’ll pick you up. I’m not getting in that thing with decent gear on. We’d better make a move. We’ve only got a couple of hours.”

At ten minutes to eight, Mike parked the car, and they headed down the steps towards the pub.

Hawker pointed across to a van. “That must be his. He said he was an electrician.”

The van in question had Arnold’s Electrics, underlined by a lightning bolt symbol, written on the side panel.

Mike paused at the entrance and looked around. Spotting Tim Arnold standing at the bar, he looked at his father.

“You didn’t say he looked that much like me.”

“Yes, I did. Come on, let’s get it over with.” Hawker pushed Mike forward.

As they approached him, Tim stepped forward and held out his hand. “I’m Tim, nice to meet you, Mike. Thanks for coming. What can I get you?” He tapped the full pint on the bar next to him.

Mike shook his hand. “You too. Dad’s in the chair. So, this is all a bit of a shock.”

“I’ve known for months. Didn’t know what to do about it,” Arnold replied.

“Shall we?”

Hawker picked up the beers he’d ordered, and the three men took a table in the window. Tim explained that when being told by his mother that Jack Arnold hadn’t been his father, he wasn’t sure what to do with that information. Jack Arnold had been his dad, and would always be his dad, but he was curious, so he looked them up. It had only taken a couple of days to find out who they were and where they lived.

“I was going to leave it, but it niggled at the back of my mind. Like Mike, I was brought up an only child. I would have liked a brother, so I thought I’d check you out. I drove to your office, and I was going to come in and pretend I was looking for a property, but I saw you walking across the carpark, and knew everyone would notice the resemblance so drove off. That wasn’t the way for you to discover you had a brother. So, I found out where Barry was working. Like you say, a bit of a shock. Sorry, but there was no other way of doing it.”

“And some. Dad tells me you’re an electrician, Tim. He always wanted me to get a trade, but I took the easy option. Are you married?”

“No, don’t know if we’ll bother. I’ve been living with Carly for almost ten years. She’s very excited I’m meeting you.” Tim rolled his eyes.

“Have you got kids? I’ve got two, a girl, Lottie, and Oscar, he’s five.”

“Nice names. No, no kids. Just me, Carly and mum. No aunts, uncles, or any other family now my grandparents have died.” Tim shrugged. “You’re it.”

Hawker leaned forward. “But we’re not, are we? You don’t know us from Adam. My wife, his mother, she’s…delicate. She’d never cope with this sort of news, never forgive me, never accept you. I’m sorry, but there it is. No point in beating about the bush.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. Still, I’m sure we can have a drink together now and then, can’t we?”

“Yes. Sure, I don’t see—” Mike was interrupted by his father.

“No. No, we can’t. Look at the pair of you. You could be twins. I’m not sneaking around, trying to avoid places we might see someone we know. I’m sorry, Tim, but it’s not going to happen.” Hawker’s shoulders slumped. “It can’t. She’d find out.”

“But—” Mike rolled his eyes as his father jumped in again.

“No buts, Mike. It’s not possible. That’s it.” Hawker cut the air with his hand. “We can’t do it.” He looked at Tim. “I’m sorry. Really, I am, but it’s best not to start that ball rolling. We’ll have a drink and a chat tonight and all go back to where we were this morning. I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologising. I know this is tough. I knew you might not want to know. It was a fifty-fifty thing. Now I know. Drink up, I’ll buy you another.”

Barry Hawker lifted his glass. He didn’t want another drink; he wanted to get out of there because the guilt was making him feel nauseous. Guilt for not telling Glenys and guilt for rejecting Tim, and judging by the look on Mike’s face, he should also feel guilty for denying him the chance to get to know his brother. But he emptied his glass and handed it to Tim. The least he could do was spend the evening with the bloke.

Hawker looked at Trump. “And that was it. We stayed another hour or two, the boys talked about sport, and I sat there like an idiot, racked with guilt. We had a drink, and we left. I never saw him again.”

“Did Mike?” Trump asked.

“No. I just told you.” Hawker looked confused.

“Are you sure about that? You may have decided that no one would see each other again, but it didn’t sound as though your sons thought it was a bad idea. Could they have met without you knowing?”

Hawker rolled his eyes. “Of course they could have. But they didn’t. Mike would have told me, he wouldn’t hide something like that.”

“Yet you did,” Trump stated. “You hid it from your wife.”

“Don’t you judge me. I was a youngster when he was conceived. I barely knew the girl. He didn’t have an awful life, he told us that. He had a happy childhood, and he loved his parents. I wasn’t one of them. I was just some bloke who enabled his mum to get pregnant.” Hawker tapped the table with his finger. “Look at it this way. Annie Beaumont wasn’t backward in coming forward. How do you think we got together? She was a nice girl, but loud and spoke her mind. If she knew she was having my baby, why didn’t she say anything? Why not tell me? I’ll tell you why, or possibly why, she wasn’t interested. She didn’t want to play happy families with me. Had I known, I’d have agreed with that. Or maybe, and it’s not beyond the bounds of possibility she didn’t know it was me. Might not have known until his hair started growing. By that time, she was married to Arnold. Tim told me they’d been happy together. And I’d been happy in mine. There was no point in upsetting the apple cart. None at all. Is that it? Have we finished here?”

“Do you know where Tim is living?”

“No. Never did.”

“Then I think we’re done, yes. Thank you for coming in, Mr Hawker. I’ll show you out.”

“Don’t bloody thank me,” Hawker said, as he struggled to his feet. “You will never know the guilt I’ve carried over this. And, if Glenys finds out because of you digging up stuff that should stay buried, I’ll blame you. After all she’s had to put up with you’ll be the one who puts the nail in her coffin.”

“Unless Tim Arnold is involved in the disappearance of Mike and Christine, there’s no reason your wife would find out. But I’m sure you’ll agree that we must look into it.”

“No, I don’t agree. Quite the opposite. I think you’re stirring up trouble for the sake of it. Can I go?”

“Of course, but one last question, were both your vans white?”

“Both?”

“Yours and Tim Arnold’s. Did you both drive white vans?”

“Yes. Why?”

“Just making sure I have my facts straight. This way.”

Chapter Ten

Meredith brushed Patsy’s hair away from her face and looked at her. She looked peaceful. If he was being fanciful, he’d have suggested happy. It was a long time since he’d seen her like that. He needed the bathroom, but didn’t want to wake her. It appeared she’d needed sleep as much as he did. Her bedside clock told him it was three o’clock. They’d been asleep for five hours. Knowing he couldn’t put it off any longer, he gently slid his arm out from under her neck.

Patsy opened her eyes. “Hello.”

“Hello. Hold that smile. I have to pee.” Meredith lowered his head and kissed her.

Patsy cupped his face in her hands. “I think I like you with a beard.”

“Good. We’ll discuss it when I get back. Stay right there.”

When he came out of the bathroom, Patsy was in the kitchen area.

“I told you to stay where you were.” He walked over to her and put his arms around her as she poured orange juice into glasses.

“I needed a drink.” Patsy took a sip, and placing the glass down, she turned to face him. “I’m sorry, Meredith. More sorry than you’ll ever know.” Her eyes glistened with unshed tears.

“Hush. You never have to apologise to me. Ever. Can we go back to bed?” He rested his forehead on hers. “We need to talk, when you’re ready. But before we do, I’d like to sort this beard nonsense out.”

Patsy pulled her head away and looked at him. “What do you mean, sort it out?”

“I want to know if it tickles or scratches. When I make love to you, I don’t want you to be distracted by tickles or scratches. I’d like your full concentration on the job in hand. Taking you back to bed will answer that question.” He smiled as she giggled. “You see, already distracted.”

“No. I was just laughing at the thought that anything could distract me from that.”

Meredith’s head bobbed from side to side as he considered this. “Fair comment. I’d still like to test your theory, though.”

“In which case you’d better get a move on. School finishes at three thirty. The kids will be home soon. Even if you lock the door, they will bang on it. That might be distracting. They can be very persistent,” Patsy told him.

“That’s not enough time for what I have in mind. Can you borrow the car?”

“Not sure, I’ll ask. Why?”

“Because I have a rather nice hotel room where we won’t be disturbed. And I’d like you to myself, just for a while because I’ve missed you, and I need a shower, and all my clothes are there.”

“That sounds like a good plan. I’m impressed, Meredith. Get dressed.”

“I will. You should pack an overnight bag. We won’t make it back. I’ll take you out to dinner.”

When they went into the main house, Patsy found a note on the breakfast bar from Steve. It told her he wasn’t sure of her plans, but he would pick the kids up from school, and he’d call her later. Use the car if needed. He’d left the keys to the smaller car with the note.

Patsy jiggled them at Meredith. “We have transport.”

“So I read. What I’m wondering is why you’re still standing here waving them at me.”

Once in the car, Patsy asked, “Do you want to go the scenic route so I can show you around the sights, or the direct route?”

“Hodge, I know you’ve had problems that we will get to, but that is one of the…” He slapped her leg as she laughed. “You’re better. I can tell.”

Patsy’s laughter fell silent. “I hope so,” she whispered.

“You are. Now start the bloody car and stop wasting time. It must be a family thing.”

“What, wasting time? I don’t think so.”

“No. Insisting I have to sit in dinky toys. Drive, Hodge, before my back locks.”

“Well, that answers that question.” Patsy smiled at Meredith before nestling in against him and placing her head on his chest.

“There was a question?” He kissed the top of her head.

“The big question, Meredith. The beard question.”

“Oh, that one. What was the answer? Because it didn’t distract me.”

“No, you certainly weren’t distracted. But the answer was it tickles. In a good way, though. So, I’ll let you decide.”

“In which case, I’ll think about it. We have a couple of hours before dinner, would you like to talk?” Meredith felt Patsy stiffen. “If you’re not ready, we can leave it until you are. I just don’t want you to think I’m ignoring it.” He kissed her head again.

Patsy remained silent for a while. “You didn’t tell me about the vasectomy, and I assumed I was pregnant, so when I found out about it, I knew it couldn’t be yours.”

“I know I should have discussed it with you. I was being a typical man and wondering if I could do it. When you said you didn’t want kids, I didn’t want to be responsible for you falling pregnant. Contraception had failed once, it could fail again. If it did, you’d have been in an awful position. You would have believed nothing I said about you keeping it. I understood that and, being selfish, the easiest way and, for me, the preferable way of dealing with that problem was to have the snip. If I had realised that it might lead to what happened, even remotely, I’d never have had done it. All that suffering because I didn’t want to wear a condom. I’m so sorry.” Meredith rubbed his forehead with his free hand.

Patsy rolled over so she was lying on top of him. “You should have discussed it with me. What happened afterwards with Deacon couldn’t have been predicted by anyone, so no apology necessary. But I never thought you’d keep a secret like that from me. That’s personal. That was about us. You should have told me after the event, even if you didn’t want a discussion first.”

“With the power of hindsight, I agree. But had I opened it up to discussion, there was a chance you wouldn’t agree. So when I got up the courage, and it does take courage, I just booked it in, got Seaton to hang around for a couple of hours, and walked very carefully for a few days.”

“How did I not know?” Patsy asked.

“Told you it was my back playing up.” Meredith sighed. “I am really sorry. I shouldn’t have lied to you. I won’t do it again. I promise you that.”

Patsy nodded and lowered her head. “Thank you. That’s both of us who are sorry. I’m sorry for not being able to talk to you. For walking out.”

“It wasn’t your fault, Patsy, you were traumatised. If I had told you, do you think you would have remembered?” Meredith asked. “You forgot Deacon was impotent.”

Patsy’s head jerked up. “Of course I would. I’d blocked that monster out. But not you. Never you.” She closed her eyes. “Can we stop talking about it now? Can we just accept that what happened happened, and that if I carry on speaking to Maxine, I’ll continue to get better. Although, to be honest, I’ve felt okay since the day after. I feel like me again, especially now, although the beard was new.” She joked and placed a kiss on his chin.

Meredith frowned. “Day after what?”

“When I found out I wasn’t pregnant, that it was my body or mind or both, playing tricks on me. As soon as I knew that, I knew I could have you back, if you wanted me. I love you, Johnny, and I never wanted to leave you. But I couldn’t ask you to do that. I wouldn’t ask you to do that. Despite your offer. I realised on the way back from the hospital that if I could get you to forgive me, I could come home, and everything would be fine. No hurt, no pain, no guilt. Just us. Well, maybe a little guilt because what a mess. Then I asked myself what right-minded person could think they were pregnant and throw everything away without even checking, and I plummeted. I’d destroyed everything for no good reason. But then you got on a plane for me and here we are. I promise I’ll get better.”

Meredith pulled Patsy’s face to his and kissed her. There was guilt. His guilt. His recent activities with old flame Emily had provided plenty of guilt. Guilt that he was cheating on Patsy, guilt because he knew Emily wanted more than he could ever give her. Patsy couldn’t see that guilt. He’d not lied to her, not yet, because she hadn’t asked the question. She’d told him to move on. But if she ever asked, he wasn’t convinced he was man enough to tell her the truth. Because then they’d have the hat trick: pain, hurt and guilt. So he might have to lie to her, again.

Patsy’s stomach rumbled, and she broke away from him. “I’m hungry. I think you promised me dinner.”

Meredith pulled her back. “Let’s get room service. I don’t want to let you go.”

“Oh no. A promise is a promise. But before we get ready, I have another question for you.”

Meredith’s heart missed a beat, and he nodded because he was convinced that if he tried to speak it would come out as a squeak.

“On the telling the truth front,” Patsy smiled, unaware Meredith was dying a thousand deaths, “did you really go to the gym? You. The gym? Now you’re a long-distance flyer, you didn’t just pop over to Turkey for some cosmetic enhancements, did you?” She giggled, as his eyes grew wide. “Oh no, okay, I take that back. Because you’d have had some of your laughter lines lasered, Botoxed or whatever they do to them, and bought some hair dye. For the record, I like old man Meredith with muscle. It suits you.”

In a sudden movement which caught her off guard, Meredith flipped Patsy over and pinned her beneath him. “That means you’re going hungry. That was out of order. I would never, ever, willingly be injected.”

“Does that mean we’re not going out to dinner?” Patsy laughed, struggling to free herself.

“No, it means I’m going out to dinner, if I can find a Zimmer frame lying around. You can do as you please. I’m going for a shower before you throw any more insults my way.”

Jumping off the bed, he headed for the shower.

“Nice bum,” Patsy called after him.

“Too late, Hodge. Too little, too late.”

When Patsy came out of the shower, Meredith was sitting at the desk with his laptop open.

“Are you working, Johnny? You don’t do laptops,” she asked, nudging him along so she could locate the hairdryer.

Meredith closed the laptop. “Not really, just checking up on what the team is up to. Tough case, but it’s off and running.”

“What is it?”

“Oh no, we are not talking shop. We’re going out for dinner, and we’re going to talk about the weather, and or our future, which will naturally include work, but not specifically a case.”

“Our future?” Patsy put the hairdryer down. “In what way?”

“In the way that I’ll be eating while we do. Get ready, Hodge.”

An hour later, Meredith smiled at the size of the steak on the plate in front of him.

“You had steak last night.”

“Ah, but that’s because I have to. Jared, he’s the trainer at the gym, gave me a list of foods to help my fitness and energy levels. Steak was one of them. As he’s a professional, I’m taking his advice.”

Patsy leaned across and stole several chips and held them up. “These were on the list, were they? I’m sure it would have been broccoli or roasted root veg, maybe even something looking like a leaf.” She lifted a piece of rocket from her own plate.

Meredith sliced into his steak. “I don’t know. I stopped reading once I’d done the meat column.”

Patsy ate the chips and grinned at him. “So, it’s freezing cold. The skiing is good on North Island, with fresh snowfall. Raining in England, although muggy. That’s the weather out of the way. You had something to say about our future.”

Meredith pointed his fork at her. “This is not a discussion, not now anyway. This is food for thought. I want you to think about what you want to do. Do you want to go back to work, maybe office based, although that’s just a suggestion?” Meredith held up his hands as Patsy pulled her head back.

“Do you want to work part time, or maybe you don’t want to work at all, shall I just retire and enjoy being with you? You might want to say no more chasing killers, I’ll go back to being a PI, and work with Sharon, although the reason you might want to escapes me. And here’s an extra thought, do you even want to go back to the UK? You seem very settled here. I’d have to insist we had our own house, we shouldn’t fritter away my pension on hotels, and a room over a garage won’t be suitable. Patsy, if I had a magic wand and said we will do whatever it is you want to do, what would it be?” He reached across the table and placed a finger on her lips. “You don’t have to answer now, this shouldn’t be a knee-jerk reaction or a hurried decision. I just want you to think about it and when you’ve decided, you must tell me the truth.”

“Okay. Just so I’m clear on this, whatever I decide, although I think I already know, you’ll be doing it with me?”

“I’m offended you even ask. But yes, every minute of every day. You’re not leaving me twice, Hodge. Actually, it would be three times, although I’ll concede the first was my fault, and probably the second.” Meredith flicked his hand. “Ignore all that. I’m digging a hole. Quick answer is, of course.”

“Even moving to New Zealand? You’ve only been here a couple of days.”

“But you haven’t. You’ve got yourself a job, you go walking on the beach, you know where all the attractions are, and you were prepared to stay here. You must like it. If you like it, I’ll like it, plus they drive on the correct side of the road.”

“But what about Amanda and the twins? You’ll miss them. You’ll even miss Peggy.”

Meredith reached across and took hold of her hand. “I will, but they can visit us. We can visit them. If I’m with you, I’ll have everything I need right next to me.” Meredith hoped his concern didn’t show, and attempted a smile. He’d do that for her, of course he would, or he wouldn’t have offered, but all that visiting would involve a lot of air hours, and more importantly he’d miss so much of the twins growing up.

Patsy squeezed his hand. “I’ll give it proper consideration. How long have I got?”

“As long as it takes,” Meredith replied.

“You mean we’ll go home and come back if that’s what I decide?”

“No. I mean we’ll stay here until you are absolutely sure about what you want to do.”

“What about work?” Patsy asked.

“They’ll wait – or not. We’re more important than anything else out there. Now stop asking questions and think. But eat while you’re thinking. You’ve lost weight.”

“Says the man who has to wear a belt because his jeans would slide down his hips. Will this new life include a gym?”

“Possibly. Would you like it to? I haven’t decided. I just needed the pain. If I was concentrating on why I couldn’t walk or breathe, I wasn’t wondering what you were up to. I’ll know now.”

Patsy nodded. “And the beard?”

“You really do like it, don’t you? I was teasing when I said I was going to keep it. But I will if you like. Sure as hell beats shaving.”

“Well, you might have to learn to eat differently. You have something here.” Patsy tapped her own chin and laughed as Meredith scrubbed his chin with his napkin.

“I was saving that bit for you. I’ll buy a razor in the morning.”

Later, back in the hotel room, Meredith found himself unable to sleep. Jetlag, added to the long sleep with Patsy during the day, had him lying staring at the ceiling while Patsy slept soundly. The nightmare situation they’d been in had all been caused by him not being honest with her. He wondered if that’s why he’d offered to stay in New Zealand, if that’s what she wanted. And because, if they stayed here, the chances of him ever having to lie about Emily were remote. As he asked himself for the umpteenth time whether it would be best just to get it over and done with and not having it hanging over them like a sword ready to fall, he questioned what that would do to Patsy.

Sliding out of bed, he dressed silently and pulled on his coat. Perhaps a walk would clear his brain. As he approached reception, Meredith decided he’d call Patsy’s therapist, Maxine Selby, again. She might point him in the right direction. But to be able to cope with her inability to answer a straight question, he’d need a cigarette. It was two in the morning, so he walked up to the desk and smiled at the night manager.

“It’s a long shot, I know. But do you know where I could buy some cigarettes?”

“At this time, um, probably the petrol station. Do you know where that is?”

“I don’t. Is it far?” Meredith asked.

“Bit of a walk. Do you know the area?”

“Only the immediate surrounds.”

“Wait there a minute.” The manager disappeared into a door behind him and reappeared a few minutes later a packet of cigarettes in hand. “There’s only three in there. But take these. The shop will be open by the time I finish.”

Meredith looked at his badge. “Thanks, Jamie, that’s very kind of you. Are you sure?” Meredith took the packet anyway.

“Of course. Anything else I can do for you.”

Meredith smiled. “A light wouldn’t go amiss.”

“Let me have one back, and I’ll join you. I’m not rushed off my feet.” Jamie disappeared and when he returned, he was wearing a padded jacket and holding a lighter.

Meredith handed him a cigarette and accepted a light, blowing the smoke into the cold air.

Jamie handed him the lighter. “Are you staying with us long?”

“That’s up to my wife. Here, probably not. New Zealand, who knows? I have to call the UK, so I’ll take a walk. Thanks again.”

Meredith took another drag and headed off in the direction of the shops as he called Maxine, hoping she would answer. He was in luck.

“Meredith. How are you? Have you spoken to Patsy? She told me you were there. To warn you I haven’t got long. There’s a taxi on its way to pick me up.”

“She’s with me now. Or she would be if I hadn’t sneaked out of the hotel to call you. Did she tell you she was watching me while she was speaking to you?”

“She did. You have a new coat and a beard. I’m glad you’re back together. I’m due to speak to her again tomorrow. Please make sure she calls. She’s not out of the woods yet.”

“I will. But she seems well. Normal conversations, laughing and joking, being honest as far as I can tell. Which brings me to why I called. I need your advice.” Meredith took a deep drag on the cigarette.

“I’ll do my best. But you know the rules. I won’t compromise Patsy.”

“I know. Oh God, I never thought I’d be saying this. After the pregnancy revelation, I asked Patsy to come home with the baby that never was, but neither of us knew that then. She refused. Um, before I go on, do you know all this?” Meredith asked.

“Probably. Carry on, Meredith.”

“To cut to the chase, I’d had an offer from a lady friend that I’d not accepted. But I was seeing her again, and knew I’d probably accept, so I asked Patsy to call me before a given time. Although I didn’t specify why as I was going through her brother, but I worded the message in such a way as to warn her and gave her the time. I called her ten minutes before I left. She’d received the message, and apparently she was emotional, but she didn’t call me, not until it was too late. Her message told me she understood.” Meredith took the final drag and cursed as he stubbed the cigarette out on a nearby bin. “Sorry, are you following this?”

“You asked Patsy to call you by eight o’clock or you would do something which would make you feel guilty. She didn’t call. I take it you took up your friend’s offer. How has Patsy taken that news?”

“So you knew, and she understood perfectly well what the outcome might be if she didn’t call, that’s what you’re saying?” Meredith asked.

“Yes.”

“Did she say how that made her feel? Did she pass any sort of comment on it?”

“Meredith, I’m not going to tell you that. But I’m sure it won’t be too much of a stretch of your imagination to come up with the correct answer.”

“Shit, okay. So yes, I took up the offer. My question now is, should I tell her? We had a long conversation this afternoon about not keeping secrets and being honest, but I didn’t volunteer that information for reasons you, no doubt, can understand. She didn’t ask me, so I didn’t lie but as it’s unspoken, it’s a secret. Jesus, I sound like a bloody teenager. If we come back to the UK, there’s a slight chance she might find out, or put two and two together if the wrong person says the wrong thing, and I don’t think I’d survive her walking out on me again. My gut feeling is that I should tell her now, so everything is out in the open. No skeletons in the closet. What do you think?” Meredith heard Maxine’s tut and the sigh. “You’re tutting at me again. Why? Stupid question?”

“Because I can’t answer that question for you. I can’t be your conscience, Meredith, if you thought I could be, you would have called me about taking up the offer. And I wouldn’t have answered that either. All I can do is ask that you examine your motives for either revealing your indiscretion or withholding it. Nor can I tell you what Patsy’s reaction would be to it. Of course it will sadden her, but she knew, based on her own agenda, however foolish or ill-advised, and given the state of her health at the time that it was a possibility. But at that moment she was never coming home. I’m guessing that that’s now a possibility.”

Meredith lit the second cigarette and perched on a wall. “Yes. Do you know your way of saying nothing with a lot of words has just made everything worse? If I ever call you again, tell me to bugger off and go with my gut.”

“I’m sorry, Meredith. It’s not my place to tell people what they should do. At best, I can present the options as I see them. But even then, it’s how I see them. Perhaps you should ask yourself what would be the worst outcome because it seems to me like you need to confess.”

“I don’t want to break promises before we even get started again, but I don’t want to put her back, Maxine. She’s my Patsy again. I’ve not seen this woman since last year, only the shell of her. If you were my friend and not helping Patsy, what would your advice be?”

“Naughty question, Meredith, but I think I’d have to tell you to do what you think best.”

“It’s never worked before. You’re bloody useless to me, do you know that? But thank you for helping Patsy and for the phone call. That at least is much appreciated. ’Bye, Maxine.”

“Goodbye, Meredith. Good luck.”

“Thank you. I’m going to need it. Again.”

When Meredith got back to the hotel, the night manager wasn’t at the desk, so Meredith leaned over and placed the lighter by the keyboard. Back in the room, his mind unable to think of anything but his dilemma, he opened his laptop. Drowning himself in the case, watching the videos and reading the statements, would push it further to the back.

“Meredith, it’s four in the morning. What are you doing working?” Patsy sat up and yawned.

“I couldn’t sleep. Your fault for waking me up yesterday.” Meredith turned to face her. “Twenty-four hours ago. I’ve only had you back for twenty-four hours.” Meredith smiled. He wasn’t going to tell her. One day and night wasn’t enough.

“Ah, don’t look so sad. I’m never leaving you again. Get back into bed and we can have a replay of the reunion.” Patsy threw the duvet back.

“On one condition,” Meredith told her.

“Condition? What?”

“I’m not doing this at four o’clock in the morning every day because as you keep reminding me, I’m an old man, and then you’re going to run along that beach with me. Then we’ll have breakfast, then we go back to bed to sleep.”

“That was more than one condition. That was a whole handful.”

“Am I getting into that bed or not?”

“Yes, please."

Chapter Eleven

“Louis. What time is it in New Zealand?” Linda asked.

“Twelve hours ahead, why? You’re not phoning them, Linda.” Trump wagged his finger.

“Of course I’m not, but it’s half three in the morning there, and the skipper has opened the files again. All of them. What do you think about that?”

“I think he’s keeping up to speed with what’s going on, or he’s bored. Did you get the last lot of interviews uploaded? Yes. Shame Tom isn’t back from Tim Arnold’s. It would be right up to date then.”

Tom Seaton rapped the brass knocker against the plate and stepped back off the step. The door opened, and a tall, well-built man, with russet coloured hair cut short to his scalp greeted them.

Tom held out his ID. “Mr Arnold? DS Tom Seaton and DC Will Kent. Can we have a word, please?”

“Um, yes. Sure. What about?”

“Any chance we could come in? It’s personal.”

Seaton took a step forward, and Tim opened the door wider, stepping back to allow them access.

“Personal? What sort of personal? It’s not my mum, is it?”

“No, sir. Just a few questions about your birth family. Where do you want us?” Tom looked around the small hall. The kitchen door was open, the other two shut.

“Anywhere, go in there. It’s more comfortable.” Tim pointed to the door behind Kent.

Once seated, Seaton switched on the recorder and moved his tie to the centre of his chest, hoping he’d got the angle right for the camera hidden in his tiepin. “I'm going to record this. Saves making loads of notes.”

“Sure. What’s happened to the Hawkers that you need to speak to me?” Tim asked.

“Back in 2012, Mike and Christine Hawker disappeared off the face of the earth. Three weeks ago, Mike’s body was discovered by builders on the site of what will be a supermarket just off Cribbs Causeway,” Seaton replied.

Tim’s mouth fell open. “You’re kidding. I heard they’d gone missing, it was all over the news for a few months, but I didn’t know about Mike’s body being found. Shit. That’s awful.”

“Yes, as you can imagine the Hawker family are very distressed, although to be honest, they had given up on a positive outcome,” Kent told him.

Tim nodded agreement. “So why are you here? To inform me? We weren’t that close. We only met a few times, maybe half a dozen. Barry Hawker didn’t want to know. Mind you, I suppose if Mike hadn’t disappeared we might still be mates.”

Seaton gave a slight nod to Kent as he crossed his legs and leaned back on the sofa. He was letting Kent know he’d picked up there had been more than one meeting and was happy for Kent to take the lead.

“Yes and no,” Kent replied. “Yes, to inform you, but also to find out what you knew about Mike’s personal life. We assumed being half-brothers, you’d be close.”

“Well, you obviously haven’t spoken to Barry Hawker then. Not close. We just went out for a pint a couple of times, and I met his kids at a rugby match up at Clifton,” Tim responded.

“What did you talk about?” Kent asked. “Did he ever mention he was having difficulties at home?”

“Nothing. The usual. Work, sport, the weather. We had a game of pool one night. It’s not something I excel at and he’d cleared the table before I’d barely got started. I told him I was glad we weren’t playing for money, or I’d have to give him a slap for being a hustler. He laughed and said gambling wasn’t one of his vices. So I’m guessing he didn’t have a problem with gambling.” Tim shrugged. “That’s it.”

“Did he speak about any problems he was having with his wife, Christine?”

“Not really. Just the usual. It was more the other way around,” Tim told him.

“In what way?” Kent asked.

“I was having a rough time with my then girlfriend Carly. Very rough as it happens, we split up. I’m not proud to say that I moaned about it. A lot.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. What was the usual stuff he moaned about?”

“You can’t be married or living with someone, because if you were you wouldn’t ask.” Tim looked at Seaton.

“Educate him. He’s still wet behind the ears in that department.” Seaton said with a smile.

“Ah. Getting in from work to a list of jobs you have to do. Constant reminders about what you haven’t done. Telling you they’d already told you about something, but you never listen, when they actually hadn’t. Just everyday stuff. He loved her. That much was obvious. Said he’d landed on his feet when he met her. I take it there’s no news on her, on Christine?”

“Not yet. Did you get on with Christine?” Kent asked.

“Yes. Only met her a couple of times. She was a good sort. Liked a laugh and a joke, drank like a bloke.”

“What did they think about Barry Hawker not wanting to get involved?”

“Think they felt sorry for me. There was no need because I had decent parents. It was good to get to know Mike, though. I was gutted when I heard.”

“Did you contact Barry Hawker to find out what had happened?”

Tim shook his head. “No. Why would I? He’d made it clear he wasn’t interested, so I wasn’t going to get knocked back twice. He’d warned me off once, and I figured he had enough on his plate. And I thought Mike would be in touch when he came back, if he came back.” Tim leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “There was gossip that he’d killed Christine and then did a runner. I take it that’s not what you think happened?”

“We don’t know yet. It’s early days. On what basis was it said he’d killed her and not the other way around?” Kent asked.

“Don’t know.” Tim’s shoulders twitched.

“You didn’t ask? Your newly found half-brother and you didn’t ask anything? I find that difficult to believe. If it was me, I’d be all over it.” Kent raised his eyebrows, showing his disbelief.

“Well, I might have, but Mike had asked me to keep our meetings quiet so Barry didn’t find out. I wasn’t going to stir up trouble for him. I mean, at that stage he might have come back.”

“So you don’t remember where that speculation came from, or why it wasn’t Christine and the…let’s say the postman killing him and disappearing into the sunset?”

“Never even considered it the other way around. You don’t, do you? Possible, I suppose, if he’s the only one who’s turned up dead.”

“Was Christine, from your impression of her, the type to have an affair, do you think?

“No idea. I mean, if you don’t know someone, why would you think that, unless of course you fancied a bit on the side, which I didn’t. She was just a nice girl. Had a lot to say, wasn’t a shy little thing who sat in the corner, but she was nice, nothing controversial. Look, I know this is probably standard procedure, but I only met them together a few times, so I don’t think I’m going to be able to help you.”

“Understood. Can you think of anyone we should speak to? Anyone Mike mentioned as a mate? Or Christine come to that?”

“No. We never met in any of his locals, just to avoid awkward questions.”

“Where did you go?”

“Are you serious? What difference does that make?”

“I doubt it makes any, but we’re scraping the barrel for leads with this one. It’s like someone waved a wand and poof … they were gone. So, where did you meet up?”

“Once at the Mill House in Stoke Bishop, another time it was one of the trendy bars on Whiteladies road, can’t remember the name. Oh, yes, it was the Jersey Lilly.”

“You never went to the house, or perhaps they came here?” Kent kept the questions going. Louie Trump had made a list, and Kent hoped he was getting them all covered.

“I wasn’t here then. I was in a flat, it was rented and Carly stayed there after we broke up. When I got some money from my dad’s estate I used it for a deposit on this place.”

“Nice, the sort of place I’ll be looking for when I’m ready. I hate paying rent to someone else. So they went to your flat then?”

“No. I was just clarifying they wouldn’t have come here, but they didn’t go to the flat.”

“Did you go to the house?”

“Only once. Second time we met. Christine had wanted to meet me, and was due to come out with us, but one of the kids was ill and was kicking up a fuss about the babysitter, so she cried off and invited us round instead.” Tim gave a bitter laugh. “Carly was put out. She’d bought a new something or other she was going to wear, but it was over the top for going round to someone’s house, so she had to wear something else.” He shook his head. “She was so vain.”

“So Carly met them too?”

“Yes. Just the once. It was usually me and Mike. Carly used to get miffed about that, too. She used to be miffed a lot.”

“I’ll need her contact details if I could.” Kent opened his notebook.

“Why?” Time asked.

“Because we’re speaking to everyone who had any contact with them in the months before their disappearance, and before you ask, yes, ninety-nine percent of them will be a waste of time. But we might get lucky.”

“Not with her, you won’t. But pass me your notebook. I’ll write it down for you.”

Tim jotted the information down and passed it back to Kent.

Kent looked at him. “You remember her number without looking it up? I can’t even do that with mine.”

“I was with her for ten years, and I have a good memory.”

“Why do you think she wouldn’t help us?” Kent asked.

“It’s not that she wouldn’t, it’s more that she only met them once. But she’ll still chat for England. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Kent smiled and glanced at Seaton, who shrugged. “Okay, I think that about covers it. I’ll leave a card in case anything occurs to you. Please give us a shout. Even if it seems to be something and nothing.”

“I doubt it. But yes, sure. Leave your card.” Tim took the proffered card and put it on the mantelpiece, before showing the two men out.

Back in the car, Kent tapped the clock on the dash. “She only lives in Cotham. Shall we see if she’s in? Or shall we leave it until Monday?”

“I’d leave it until Monday because we’ve haven’t got much else on. I’ll call the office, see if anything unexpected has turned up, but probably best to call it a day.” Seaton pulled his phone from his pocket.

“You’ve got a busy weekend, then?” Kent grinned.

“No, a quiet one. I’d quite like to keep it that way. Hang on…Hello, Linda. Anything new? We’re wondering whether the weekend starts here?”

“Louie just said the same thing. We saw your interview, that wasn’t very useful, was it? I’m just uploading it with George’s and was going to call you. Go home, Tom. No point in coming back. Tell Will that Daisy said she’d see him at seven. Have a good weekend.”

Seaton relayed the conversation to Kent, who interrupted.

“I heard. Linda doesn’t do quiet. Drop me back at my car. Linda must be bored. She’s getting stuff onto the system before we’re even back in the car.”

Seaton merely nodded.

Chapter Twelve

Meredith slowed his pace and allowed Patsy to catch up with him.

“Don’t look at me like that. You’ve been going to the gym. When we get home, I’m coming too, then you won’t have an advantage over me. Carry on at your own pace, and I’ll meet you by the steps.” Patsy flapped her hand forward.

Realising what Patsy had said, Meredith merely nodded and turned away, racing towards the steps. When we get home. That’s what she’d said. Had she decided? Was it too soon for her to decide? Meredith didn’t know, but he wasn’t going to draw attention to it. Not until he was sure. Reaching the steps, he stopped and placed his hands on his knees, leaning forward and gulping in air as he watched her approach.

Patsy ran past him, up the steps, and headed for the nearest bench. She beckoned him to follow. He sat down next to her.

“I’m impressed, Mrs Meredith, as you correctly pointed out, I’ve been training and yet you were only a little way behind.”

“You forget, Mr Meredith, that unlike you, I run regularly. Now shut up, let me breathe, and watch this.” She pointed at the horizon, and they sat in silence as they watched the sunrise. Patsy slapped his thigh. “Come on. You promised me breakfast. I’ll race you back.”

Before he could move, Patsy was off and running, heading for the hotel. Meredith raced after her. Catching her, he matched her pace. On arrival at the hotel, both were breathless.

“You’re going to kill me, do you know that?” Hands on his chest, Meredith arched his back.

“Not intentionally.” Patsy shook her arms and legs. “We should keep this up. That or I will come to the gym with you. We’ll both benefit.”

“Before I commit to anything, I should remind you that going to the gym was only to make me forget. Now there are lots of things I’d like to do that I’ll want to remember, and they will also provide both exercise and increase my cardio readings. I’m not sure it’s necessary.”

Patsy pouted. “But you’ll do it for me? At least give it a try?”

“I’ll think about it. Let’s grab something to eat, then you can give me a tour and we’ll decide where to take your family.”

Meredith walked to the front entrance and held open the door, and Patsy gave a curtsey as she passed him. Before they’d cleared reception, Jamie waved the lighter and called his thanks. Meredith responded with a thumbs up.

“What was that?” Patsy asked as they headed for their room.

“A lighter because I needed a smoke and didn’t have one, and I also owe him a packet of cigarettes.”

“Hmm, I was worried about you smoking again, properly I mean, not the odd sneaky one, which, by the way, I knew about.”

“I know. I’m feeble. It was the middle of the night and…I promise to try to be good in the future. Once we’re settled, wherever that might be, I’ll try to stop. Properly.”

Patsy held her hand out for the key. “The middle of the night last night? I thought I heard the door go.”

Meredith nodded and unzipped his hoodie. “Shower, then food. I’m starving now.” Stripping off his clothes, he headed for the bathroom.

Patsy appeared a few moments later and stepped into the shower with him. She placed her hands on his chest. “I’m sorry I cause you so much grief. I know you only smoke when agitated. Although what I did to agitate you last night, I’m not sure. Or is this the general fallout from my stupidity? If so, I’d better step up my game.”

“You didn’t agitate me. It wasn’t stupidity. If you carry on like that we’re going to fall out. Stop worrying and just be my Patsy again. Pass the shampoo. I’ve got more hair to wash now.” He rubbed his hand over his chin. “Still not convinced about this.”

“What aren’t you saying?” Patsy asked, as she handed over the shampoo.

“Nothing. What do you mean, about the beard?”

“No. I mean something was worrying you, perhaps is worrying you, because you went for a cigarette, and you’re not telling me what had you smoking in the middle of the night. Obviously, it’s something to do with me, but I don’t know what. Tell me. We have to deal with this stuff head on from now on, or we’ll get into all sorts of trouble again.”

Meredith turned his face into the flow of water and rinsed the shampoo from his hair with a sigh.

“And now you’re not answering me, and you’re sighing. Tell me, Meredith.”

Meredith took her face in his hands and looked into her eyes. “What do you see?”

He felt Patsy tense. She knew where this was going.

Meredith persisted, “Tell me honestly. What do you see? Do you see a husband who loves you, who wants you back? The real you, the headstrong, feisty, won’t do what she’s told you, or do you see something else?”

Patsy remained silent for a moment. Her chest rose as she drew in a breath. Raising a hand, she grabbed his wrist and slid his hand to her lips and kissed it before clearing her throat.

“Point taken. Now let me get finished because you owe me breakfast.”

Meredith pulled her to him and wrapped his arms around her. “Patsy…I…whenever you’re ready. I don’t care if that’s never, but I’m not avoiding it.”

“I know. You’d better let me get on, or we’ll miss breakfast. Conversation over, Meredith.”

Meredith kissed her before stepping away. Towelling himself off in the room, he badly needed a cigarette because he had no idea if Patsy had understood what was not being said, or if she thought it was something else. It startled him when she appeared behind him.

“I need to say something,” Patsy said quietly, and went to sit on the bed. She patted it in invitation. “Sit. Please.”

Meredith nodded and sat next to her. “Fire away. Although I should warn you that if it includes you going anywhere without me, it won’t happen. You smiled. So, you’re not suggesting that?”

“No. I’m going to suggest we stop talking about anything that’s gone before. Together, that is. I’ll carry on speaking to Maxine as I promised. We, us two, should only talk about the future. And, on that note, I think we need to go home. Home to Bristol, home to work. I want to get things back to normal as soon as we can. I’ve been in this weird place up here for far too long,” explained Patsy, tapping the side of her head. “Home, Meredith, can we do that?”

Meredith couldn’t speak, worried he would cry if he tried, so he just nodded. He had lots of questions and so much he wanted to say, but he simply nodded and pulled her into a hug. He was unsure how long they stayed like that before she pushed him away.

“Breakfast, Mr Meredith. You’re going to need the energy.”

Breakfast over, they went back to bed, and while Patsy slept, Meredith opened his laptop. If he kept his mind active, he wouldn’t overthink things. He listened to the interview with Tim Arnold with the sound as low as he could manage, and his head cocked towards the laptop.

“Meredith, turn up the volume. I’m not sleeping. This case has obviously got you hooked.”

Meredith turned and smiled at her. “Nope. Not hooked, just occupying my mind. My body clock is out of sync. Give me two seconds and I’ll be with you.” He typed out a quick email and returned his attention to Patsy. “Let’s do some sightseeing. We also need to find out when Steve and the family are available. We might need to book something.”

Patsy agreed and called her brother. The car they had borrowed was needed that afternoon, and Sunday would be the best day for a family outing. Given the various ages of the children, Patsy suggested they go back to Steve’s and let the kids decide.

“So no sightseeing until tomorrow. Not unless you want to walk. I also think we should go back there to stay. Paying for a hotel room when we have a perfectly good room at Steve’s seems silly, and I’ll get more time with them.”

Meredith agreed and packed his bag.. An hour later, he hung his few possessions in Patsy’s wardrobe. They’d arrived just in time to see Steve leave with the older two children, and minutes later Martha left with the younger boys.

“If they’re not going to be back for a few hours, I’m going to take advantage and get a nap in. Steve mentioned going for a pint locally tonight so he could have a drink. Is that okay with you?” Meredith asked.

“Of course, I might even come with you. Go and get some sleep because when the kids get back you’ll have no peace. I’m going to put some washing on. Give me anything you need done, then go to bed.”

Chores completed, Patsy peeped into the bedroom area to find Meredith sleeping, and not wanting to wake him, she opened up her own laptop to find out what the team were working on. She read through the summary and then went down to the family room in the main house to listen to the interviews, collecting a notebook on the way.

That’s where Meredith found her almost two hours later.

“You didn’t come to bed.” He frowned as Barry Hawker’s voice reached him and looked at the notebook on the arm of the chair. “Are you working?”

“No because I’m sitting in a room in New Zealand. I thought I’d take a peep to see what you found so interesting.”

“And yet you’re making notes.” Meredith snatched up the notebook before she could stop him and read through the notes. “Ask what about Barry H?”

Patsy looked at him. He didn’t look miffed, but he wasn’t smiling, and his relaxed attitude from earlier had disappeared. He raised his eyebrow.

“What’s the matter? Why are you looking at me like that?” Meredith asked.

“Because your attitude has changed. I was trying to work out why and if I’ve done anything wrong.”

Meredith pushed her laptop shut and placed it on the table before pulling her to her feet. He then took her place and pulled her onto his lap.

“I’m going to be honest with you. It might piss you off but I don’t want you to be angry. It’s how I feel right at the moment. Listen to me, consider what I’m saying, and then we’ll talk.”

“Okay. Although, I doubt you’ll annoy me. But carry on. You obviously want to get it off your chest, and you haven’t got long before they’ll be home. Not sure there will be any talking.”

Meredith wished they’d kept the hotel room. Walking around on eggshells because other people were around wouldn’t help them get to where they needed to be.

“Should we go back upstairs because I think this needs saying?” he asked.

“No, because then we might get distracted.” Patsy grinned at him. “Spit it out, Meredith.”

“I don’t think you should be working. I don’t think you should go back to work.” His shoulders twitched. “I know that’s going to make you angry, but it’s how I feel. What? Why is that making you smile?”

“Because, DCI Meredith, you are in denial. Because if that were true, why was your first thought to ask me about the case, and not some misguided instruction?”

“Misguided? That’s fighting talk, Hodge. And to answer the question, only because I’d had a thought on that too. But that’s an aside as you’d already made the note. I’m talking about the future.”

Patsy nodded. “Ah, I see. The future where I’m not allowed to work. The future where I become what? A housewife? Because that’s never going to happen, Meredith, you know that.”

“I never said that. When I said work, I meant the CCRT. And you know that. Are you trying to wind me up?”

Patsy laughed. “If I wanted to wind you up, I wouldn’t be sitting on your lap listening to you talk rubbish. What happened to me needing to decide what I wanted to do, and from memory that included going back to work, either office based, which, by the way, won’t happen, or not? You’re entitled to your opinion, Johnny, and I will, of course, give any opinions due consideration, but much as I’ve enjoyed working with Martha, I missed working on something real. Something that matters. And I’m not knocking any other job that people choose to do, it’s just not really for me. We both know I’m not a housewife, so I’ll have to do something, and that being the case, I’ll do what interests me, and what I’m good at. It really is that simple.” Patsy rested her forehead against Meredith’s. “You know that. You’re an intelligent, handsome, and sometimes a very sensible man, when you put your mind to it.”

Meredith sighed and closed his eyes for a moment. “It’s like I’m talking to the old you again. That’s what Hodge would have said. But—”

“I am still me. I’ve had a blip, a very dramatic and destructive blip, I agree. But onwards and upwards, Johnny, the alternative isn’t thinkable.”

“I know that, but I think you’re jumping without looking where you might land. You know I didn’t offer to move here lightly, I offered because it might be what’s best for you. I only want what’s best for you, and I think—”

“Do you think that you know better than me what will make me happy? Make me feel right again? If that’s what you’re saying, and we’re allowed to do that, let me tell you what will make you happy. Because anyone who knows you could tell you that. What would make you happy is going back to work and heading up the CCRT. Bellowing out orders when you get frustrated, righting wrongs, and moaning. A lot of moaning.” Patsy grinned as his eyebrows rose. “And playing with the twins, being part of your own non-dysfunctional, present company included, family. Even sparring with Peggy makes you happy because you saved her. It also makes you happy having me where you think you might control me. You hated it when I worked with the Graingers. You’d hate it even if I was stacking shelves in Asda. So let’s stop pretending I’m not going back to work because I am. Now that’s sorted, shall I answer your original question?”

“Not yet no. Nice speech, Hodge, but you missed the bit about me retiring so I could watch you all the time. But, getting back to being serious, I’m agreeing to nothing until I know you are well enough to make that decision and also cope with the pressure of dealing with the people we share our working lives with. What time are you speaking to Maxine?” Meredith asked, and realised immediately he’d phrased the question so Patsy would know he had information she’d not given him. He’d almost got to hoping she’d not noticed when she pushed herself away from him.

“I can see you realise your rooky mistake. You’re slipping, Johnny. When did you speak to Maxine, and why?”

“In the middle of the night, and because I have issues, I need advice on too, Hodge. And stop calling me Johnny.” To Meredith’s surprise, she grabbed his face and planted a kiss on his lips.

“Thank you. Now, shall I—”

“Hang on a minute. What just happened? Why are you thanking me?”

“It doesn’t matter. Shall I answer your earlier question now?” Patsy flipped his query away with a flick of her wrist.

“It matters to me. Something just happened, and I don’t know what it was. Tell me. Are you blushing?” Meredith took her face in his hands.

“If I tell you, will you promise it’s the end of the conversation and keep that promise?”

“I’m not sure that—”

“Promise, Meredith, or I’m going to sort the washing out.”

Meredith nodded. “I promise.”

“I thought you were speaking to someone else. Someone who might need to know you’d flown halfway around the world to be with your wife. You weren’t. I’m glad. I’m sorry you have issues because I’m to blame…mostly. But that’s what made me happy. Now, Barry Hawker. In his—”

“Patsy, I—”

Patsy placed her hand over his mouth. “No. Absolutely not. You promised. Can I tell you about Barry Hawker?”

“Go on then.” Meredith wasn’t sure if he was relieved or not. He’d now tried to tell her about Emily several times, and each time she’d stopped him. Although he was glad he didn’t have to watch her reaction, he almost wished it was finally out in the open. “But I want you to get the all-clear from Maxine before you decide. And I know she never gives a straight answer to even the simplest of questions, but you’re almost as good at reading between the lines as I am. So listen to her, Patsy, she knows what’s best.”

“Of course, now, Barry Hawker?”

Knowing he would get no further, Meredith nodded, but as Patsy opened her mouth, the door burst open, and Lizzie flew in.

“You weren’t here for breakfast. Daddy said you were taking us out tomorrow. Where are we going?” She slowed her pace. “Why are you sitting on him?”

Patsy smiled at her. “I stayed at a hotel last night. Yes, we are going out tomorrow. I don’t know where yet. Perhaps you could suggest somewhere, and I’m sitting on his lap because he needed a cuddle.”

Lizzie walked closer. “Yes, he looks sad.”

Patsy turned to look at Meredith. “He does, but that’s not sad, he’s probably got wind.” Patsy screwed her face up and flapped her hand under her nose, causing Lizzie to giggle.

Meredith wrapped his arms around Patsy and squeezed. “Tell her the truth, my farts don’t smell.”

“I can’t lie. Let me go. Help me, Lizzie, he might do it again.” Patsy pretended to struggle, and Lizzie jumped on them.

“Let her go, Uncle Johnny.”

Meredith relaxed his grip. “It’s Meredith, not Johnny. Anyway, she’s telling fibs, and I don’t think you’re big enough to make me.”

“I’ll do what I do to my dad. I’m warning you, I’ll count to five.” Lizzie grinned and flexed her fingers.

“What should I do? What she going to do to me?” Meredith whispered theatrically.

“I don’t know. Lizzie, what’s the plan?” Patsy asked.

Lizzie wiggled her fingers. “I’ll tickle him.”

Meredith jumped to his feet, causing them both to fall to the floor. “I never had you down as a dirty fighter, Lizzie. She’s all yours.”

Patsy and Lizzie rolled around on the floor laughing and, pretending he was disgusted, Meredith stepped over them.

“I’m going to find someone sensible to speak to,” he told them, with a wink for Patsy as he left the room.

After an amusing family dinner and a long list of what the children would like to do the next day, they escaped back to the loft room. Meredith dropped onto the couch.

“I’m exhausted again. Shall we see what’s on TV?” he asked.

“Yes, sure. You carry on. I got interrupted earlier. I’d like to finish these last couple of interviews and see what the police officers attending had to say.”

“I haven’t seen those. You’re ahead of me. I thought we weren’t going to do work?”

“That’s what you said. I agreed to nothing. I’ve got time before I speak to Maxine. Shall I bring the laptop over there?”

“Make it quick. I’m going out with Steve soon.”

Chapter Thirteen

George Davies straightened his tie and placed a recorder on the table. “I’m recording this, but just so you know, I’m also filming it. My governor is away at the moment, so we’re filming everything for him. Camera’s here.” George pointed to the tiepin.

Gary Benson, a bald-headed man, with a stain on his shirt, squinted at the tiepin. “Doesn’t he trust you?”

“Implicitly, but he likes to see the whites of your eyes. Would you like me to turn it off?”

“No, but crack on, I’ve got somewhere I should be. Jim will be here shortly.”

“Okay. With the discovery of Mike Hawker’s body, we’ve reopened the Hawker case. You were first on the scene. Start with the call and tell me what happened.”

“Got the call from Clark, Hawker’s workmate, about twenty past four. My sergeant took it, and I was sent to speak to Clark. He told me Hawker had called him that morning because his missus had disappeared on him, and he had to do the school run. Half an hour later, Hawker pulls into the carpark but never went into the office. When Clark went to investigate, the door to the car was open. No keys, but his phone was in there, so he took the phone and shut the car door. Then Mrs Hawker’s work called Mike’s phone because she hadn’t turned up either. Clark assumed it was some domestic issue and waited for Hawker to arrive. He never did. Clark called the house at lunchtime but the answer machine cut in. He didn’t leave a message.”

“How did you get into the house?”

“Clark gave me Barry Hawker’s home number. He was the father. I called him, told him briefly the problem and asked him to pick the kids up, and if he had a key to the house. He did at his place. So he went to get the kids, and I went to pick up the keys. Glenys Hawker was in a panic and couldn’t find them, so I did the: don’t worry until you have something to worry about thing, and told her we’d be in touch, and we’d break in with as little damage as possible. So we did. Broke the small pane on the front door. Oh, here’s Jim.”

A tall skinny man walked towards them, hand out. George got to his feet and shook it.

“Thanks for coming. Have a seat. Gary was just telling me about the house. Carry on.” George didn’t bother mentioning the camera the second time.

“I met Jim at the property, and we let ourselves in. Forensics filmed it afterwards but, other than the blood on the back door, there was nothing out of place.”

“Except the phone,” Jim Olsen said. “When I went round to see the parents later that night, I told them Christine’s phone had been on the breakfast bar in the kitchen. They thought that was odd because she was always on her phone. Oh, and her work coat was there. After they moved to the family home, the kids said she hadn’t gone to work because her work coat was there. We didn’t know one way or another, or even if she might have put a different coat on, because there was no one who could give us an answer to that.”

“Did you speak to anyone at Christine’s place of work?” George asked.

“Only over the phone. We spoke to the office manager whose call got picked up by Simon Clark on the husband’s phone. He knew nothing and said when Christine didn’t show up, he asked the others if they’d heard from her, and no one had. They tried calling her a couple of times, and when she didn’t answer the mobile or the house phone, they called her husband, only to find that he’d gone AWOL, too. I pressed him on whether Christine had mentioned any problems, and he said Christine didn’t have problems. It was a long conversation because he wanted to know what we knew etcetera, but to summarise, to the best of everyone’s knowledge, Christine had been normal and happy the previous day. She had a happy marriage and doted on her kids. There was nothing there.”

George nodded. “Did you speak to the other workmates?”

“Not me personally but someone must have. There were only three of them, including Karl Phipps, the manager,” Jim replied.

“So, you get to the house, everything appears normal other than the smear of blood on the door frame. How did you get on with the neighbours?”

“We spoke to everyone in the street who was in. No one saw anything, no one knew anything. Those who passed comment said they were a lovely couple, a nice little family. Not one person had anything even slightly off to say about them. Again, I didn’t speak to everyone, but that was the summary given by the guv: Mr and Mrs Perfect.”

“What about the old boy next door? What do you remember about him?”

Gary Benson answered, “I did him. He was a lovely old chap, kept us swimming in tea, but he was devastated. Christine Hawker used to help him out. He said she was a lovely cook, better than his wife.”

“Did he see the white van?” George asked.

The two officers opposite exchanged a look.

“What white van?” Jim Olsen asked. “I know nothing about a white van.”

“The neighbour over the back, on the other side of the lane, remembers a white van being parked in the lane between her house and the Hawkers when she got up. No more than that because the dog had thrown up, and she had to deal with it.”

“Bloody hell. Why didn’t she say so at the time? Is she sure it was the same day?”

George shrugged. “She says so, and it makes sense. Her name was Jilly Field. Ring any bells?”

Both men shook their heads. “So if you didn’t know about the white van, then the other neighbours weren’t asked about it. I doubt they’ll remember, but it’s some—”

“Christine’s stepfather had a white van.” Gary Benson nudged Jim Olsen. “Remember? When we went to see them, there was one on the drive.”

Jim shook his head. “Never met them, I didn’t do them.”

George smiled. “That’s something else we didn’t know. How were they?” he asked Gary.

“Shocked. The mother asked who had the kids and seemed put out they’d gone to the Hawkers. She asked loads of questions, as you’d expect. They’d seen them at the weekend, because they’d dropped in with a birthday present for the little girl, and everything was fine. The stepfather, can’t remember his name without looking, said very little. Shook his head and tutted a lot. Bloody hell. There was a white van on the drive, and the headlight had been damaged. I mentioned it. He said he’d found it like that when he’d finished work, and he’d get it sorted the next day. Do you think it’s connected? We knew nothing about a white van. Did we?” Gary looked at Jim, who shook his head.

“Don’t know. Possibly. But that’s three of them,” George replied.

“Three what? White vans? Who else had…Oh, his dad had one too.” Jim was nodding. “Yes, he was a builder. I remember now. So both fathers. Who else?”

George knew they didn’t know about Arnold and said casually, “The half-brother, Tim Arnold.”

“What half-brother? We didn’t know that either. Bloody hell, you lot must think we’re a right bunch of numpties.”

“Not really. There’d be no point in us reopening cases if everyone was as good as us. We’d be wasting our time.” George grinned. “Just kidding. It’s just how it goes. Anything else you thought was odd or out of place? Anything grab your attention that ended as nothing back then?”

Both men shook their heads.

“At the time,” said Jim, “we knew that the husband had told Clark that she’d taken her slippers off and was wearing her work shoes, so wherever Christine Hawker went she knew she was going out, and she took her handbag but not her phone. Like I said, we didn’t know about a coat. But we had it down as the husband. Killed her for whatever reason and sorted the shoes and bag after the event. And he left the phone there so it couldn’t be traced, then did the same with his. But once I heard his remains had turned up, and he’d been dead a long while, I asked myself where she thought she was going, and why didn’t she take her phone?”

“We might never know. Thanks for your time, boys. I’ll keep you posted. If you think of anything else give me a shout.” George pushed a card across the table as he got to his feet. “I’ll let you get back to work. Have a good weekend.”

Meredith closed the laptop. “I’ll get ready while you tell me your thoughts.” He stripped off his T-shirt as he got to his feet.

“You don’t want a proper discussion? Not like you, DCI Meredith, but here goes. I don’t have any theories at the moment, we don’t have enough information. What I do think, is now we know about the possibility of a white van being involved, we need to get the whereabouts of the three men who drove them that morning, although that might prove difficult given how long ago it was. We also need to speak to Barry Hawker again about Tim Arnold. Tim said he’d been warned off once. That wasn’t how Barry explained it. Barry said they’d had an awkward drink, and Tim had accepted that Barry couldn’t let his wife find out. That’s not warning him off, is it? And I’m still playing catch-up, but I’ve seen nothing from Christine’s workmates. They need speaking to. What are your thoughts? What’s your gut instinct?”

Meredith finished spraying his deodorant and threw her his phone. “Look at my sent messages, the last one to Trump.” He looked smug.

Patsy scrolled through them and read his email to Louie Trump.

Trump.

Things seem to be moving in the right direction. Couple of things I picked up on:

Hawker – speak to him again. Arnold suggests their meeting was less friendly than Hawker said. If necessary, ask Arnold what he meant.

Speak to Daniel Hobbs – long shot, but they might still have been at it.

Speak to Chris H’s workmates. There’s nothing from them.

I’ll be in touch. Meredith.

Patsy handed him back the phone as there was a tap at the door.

“Great minds, Meredith. I think that’s for you. Depending on how long I’m with Maxine. I might join you. Have a nice time, but don’t wake me up when you get home if I don’t. Long day tomorrow.”

Meredith pulled her into his arms. “You’d better be up and waiting for me.” He kissed her before breaking away as the door opened and Lizzie flew in, followed by Joseph.

“I knocked like you told me.” She looked Meredith up and down. “Are you going out?”

“I am. Is that okay?” He leaned closer to Patsy and whispered, “You didn’t lock the door.”

“Not really. I thought you’d do the bedtime stories. Aunty Patsy, you’ll have to do. Come on.” She held out her hand.

“It’s not bedtime yet.” Patsy laughed. “And I do have a call to make, so I’ll come over after that.”

Meredith collected his wallet from the bedside cabinet. “Is your dad ready?”

Joseph shook his head. “He can’t find his shoes. Can I watch the TV up here?” He took a seat on the couch. “I like it up here.”

“Not at the moment, I have a call to make. Tomorrow, after we’ve been out. Uncle Johnny will buy popcorn, and we’ll have movie night.”

“And she just said it was going to be a long day. Come on, Joseph, let’s see if your dad has found his shoes. I’ll give you a piggyback. Stand up. Lizzie, lead the way. I’m new here, I might get lost. Hodge, I’ll see you later.” Hoisting Joseph onto his back, Meredith followed Lizzie out of the loft.

Patsy was laughing as she closed the door behind them. Making herself a coffee, she settled down on the sofa, opened the laptop, and called Maxine.

“Patsy, right on time. You look happy,” Maxine said, as she organised herself.

“I am. I understand Meredith called you in the middle of the night,” Patsy replied.

“He told you. It was the middle of the afternoon for me. How are things?”

“Okay. Did he tell you he had something to tell me?”

“Patsy, I shall tell you the same as I tell Meredith. I won’t be drawn into revealing the details of conversations with others. So what did he have to tell you, and why is it important if I know?” Maxine responded, as she made a note.

“He didn’t tell me anything. I think he was going to tell me something I didn’t want to hear, so I headed him off at the pass.”

“May I ask why?”

“Shouldn’t that be what?” Patsy tilted her head. “Surely your next question should have been: what did I think he was going to say.”

“No, Patsy, because if you told me why, I’d know the what, wouldn’t I? Would you rather not talk about it?” Maxine’s eyebrow rose.

“I’m not avoiding it or I wouldn’t have brought it up. Okay, let’s do it your way. The why is the old adage what you don’t know can’t hurt you. I thought he was calling someone else but it was you. He said he also has issues he needs to speak to you about. I’m guessing they’re me.”

“Who did you think he was calling?”

“I think that’s obvious but, as you insist on me spelling everything out, a lady friend. Someone who might have been expecting a different type of call. You didn’t answer the question.”

“I don’t think you asked one. Why would you think it was a lady friend? I’m assuming you mean a romantic lady friend?”

“I don’t know if any romance was involved, but you know I told him to get on with his life. He gave me the chance to stop him from doing that. I didn’t take it, so I know something might have happened. That he’d begun to move on, but then he came here, so as a gentleman, because he can be, he had to make a call. You see?”

“Let me summarise, you told Meredith to get on with his life, which included fulfilling any personal needs, he asked you to stop him, you didn’t, and now you’re concerned he wants to confess, but you don’t want to know. Is that right?” Both of Maxine’s eyebrows were now raised.

“Pretty much. When I told him to do that and ignored his request to put a stop to it, I still thought I was pregnant, so it was only fair. Now I’m not, and I’m better and he’s back and I don’t need to know what happened, do I?”

“Only you can answer that. Let’s assume he did, with your permission, get on with his life. How would you feel if he told you that’s what he did because he thought he’d lost you?” Maxine asked.

“If you don’t mind me saying, that’s a bloody stupid question. I’d be devastated, hurt and angry at myself for being so stupid. I wouldn’t blame him, but once it was out there, I’d have questions like who and where, and did he like her. I’d ask why did he choose her and on and on until it drove us mad. So, no, I don’t want him to tell me.”

“But you suspect he has?” Maxine pressed.

“I know he has. It was months, Maxine, months. Meredith is Meredith. I’m not stupid, well I am as I’ve admitted, but I don’t need that conversation. Do you understand?”

“I do. I think if he tries again, you should try to tell him that.”

“I have. The trouble is I did the open and honest thing, no more secrets between us, and now I think he needs to tell me. I’ve tried adding the caveat that it was the future I was talking about, so fingers crossed I’ve headed that nightmare off. So, moving on, if you won’t tell me why he calls you, will you at least tell me if I should be careful or watchful with him?”

“Patsy, just be you. The you you are in that moment. Tell him what’s going on with you. What you are thinking or feeling. Meredith will respond as he feels appropriate. One thing I will tell you is that he just wants you, in whatever form that might be.”

“Did he tell you he offered to move here? Oh, I can tell by the eyebrows he didn’t.” Patsy laughed. “I won’t accept that offer, which brings me to his next demand, he—”

“Meredith is making demands? That does surprise me. What does he want you to do?” Maxine made another note on her pad.

“Nothing, I think. Literally. I want to come home, go back to work, and get back to normal. Now Meredith is here, I feel normal. I was doing okay before he arrived, I think, getting there anyway. Now, I’m just me again, and I have you to thank for that. So what do you think?”

“About you going back to work? I think you should take it slowly. You shouldn’t rush into anything, especially given your line of work, but nor do I think you should give yourself too much time to allow your mind to wander. It will be a delicate balancing act.”

“Are you suggesting part-time? That’s what Meredith said before he withdrew the offer.”

“Judging by Linda’s return, that’s unlikely to last more than a week. Do you take notice of what Meredith wants? I don’t think you do, or you would have gone back to him a few months ago.”

“Exactly. But now he’s said he won’t allow me to go back, and don’t forget he is also my boss, unless he gets the all clear from you. So it’s not that straightforward. If he asked you, what would you say?”

“It would be the same response, Patsy. Slowly, slowly, moving forward a little at a time.”

“Okay, what if I say I will never, ever go to see anyone alone again. I mean that, it’s not a hollow promise, or one I’ll break. If I have to interview someone, I will always have a partner. So, with that in mind, what’s the worst that can happen?”

“Difficult to say. Lack of confidence initially. The questioning of your decision making. But the absolute worst is that you’d come across a case that triggers you, that causes some kind of breakdown.”

“Perfect, because I don’t think that will happen. I’ve been going over what started all of this and studying the Deacon files. I’ve read everyone’s notes, and nothing. Only the disgust and dislike I feel when dealing with any other case. Other than to kick myself at my own stupidity, of course. That’s as close to home as it gets. The only thing I didn’t look at was the footage of the attack itself, which I hope is understandable. What nobody seems to understand is that it was losing Meredith and not the attack which caused my issues. Okay, I’m going to ask you another question. If I insist on going back to work, will you tell Meredith I shouldn’t do that?”

“It’s not my place to instruct Meredith one way or another. As the police are paying for your treatment, I might be required to write a report and that report would be honest, but I would tell you what it said.”

“Right now, or next week, what would your report say?” Patsy pressed.

“It would say that you’d made excellent progress, that the issues that were troubling you are fading and that I expect you to make a full recovery. But surely you are not serious about returning next week?” Maxine asked.

“Maybe not next week. But soon, yes. What do you need to see to say I am fit for work? What is it that you think is wrong?”

Maxine sighed. “Patsy, a week ago you thought you were pregnant, having been raped by a man that was not capable of doing so. And if your period hadn’t arrived, you would still believe that to be the case. Time, Patsy. Time.”

“I understand that but Meredith didn’t tell me about the vasectomy. You know that.” Patsy heard the whine in her voice.

“No, he didn’t. What if someone makes a similar omission next week or the week after, not to do with you becoming pregnant, of course, but something which, if considered in the wrong context, might make you take the wrong course of action? Do you not see that’s possible? It may never happen, but it might, and everyone who could be affected should know that. Do you see?”

“No. Not even slightly. I will never be in that situation again, I’ve just explained that, and I can see no circumstance in which I’d make such an extreme judgement. Or are you telling me I am that damaged, that I should never be trusted to make a decision again? That I’m not capable, is that what you’re saying?” Patsy demanded. “Because if you are, you’re wrong.”

Maxine linked her fingers and leaned forward. “I am not saying that, Patsy. I’m saying that, in my opinion, it’s too soon for you to go back to work and deal with murder and mayhem and the people who cause it. If you were a secretary, or an accounts clerk, or a, I don’t know, even an air hostess, it would be a different matter. But you’re not. What you see and hear in the course of a case would give most people nightmares. I personally wouldn’t even want to read about the injuries to the girls in the Deacon case, yet you have to study them, to be aware of every tiny detail. It’s too much pressure, Patsy.”

“I think we’ll have to agree to disagree on that. You can put what you want in any report, but I’m planning on going back to work, and the sooner the better.”

“If that’s the case, will you agree to continue seeing me?” Maxine asked.

“Will Meredith continue to speak to you? This has caused him almost as much trauma as it has me.”

“That’s up to Meredith. His issues are not the same as yours.”

“Okay. Well, that wasn’t what I expected. I’m going to end the call now, Maxine. It seems I have some thinking to do. Thank you for your time.” Patsy’s finger hovered over the escape button on her laptop. “I do appreciate the help you have given me, Maxine, but I have to start getting back to normal now.”

“We haven’t made our next appointment. I have morning appointments available on Tuesday and Thursday.”

“I’m hoping I’ll be back by then or at least travelling. I’ll call you.”

“I hope so, Patsy, I really do. Look, I can’t always answer, but if you ever feel you need to talk to me, please just call.”

“I will. ’Bye, Maxine.”

Patsy ended the call and searched for flights back to the UK for the next week. She noted several down and went back to work. Happy that she’d done all she could and knew as much about the Hawker case as was possible, , she went to shower. She had intended joining Meredith and Steve but decided against it.

When Meredith returned, he found Patsy in front of the television.

“You didn’t come and join us.” He hung up his coat and sat next to her. “I like your brother. He has a good sense of humour, and he says what he means. I might have had one too many. How’s your evening been?”

“Busy, but productive.” Patsy muted the television and lifted her notepad. “Did you know there’s a little shop on the corner opposite the lane at the back of the Hawkers’ house? A long shot, but they might have noticed something, which would help with finding someone else who saw that van. I’m sure even if they’d had CCTV, any footage would be long gone. And now we know a van might have been involved, we can also question witnesses who were around at the time of Mike Hawker's disappearance.” Patsy flipped the page and passed him the pad. “And these are the times and prices on flights home.”

Meredith skimmed her notes. “That’s next week. Are you sure? How did it go with Maxine?”

Patsy turned to face him. “Yes, I’m sure. Of course I’m sure. We have to get back to normal. Isn’t that what you want?”

“Of course. But I’m happy for that normal to be a different type of normal. I won’t rush this. It’s been six months of everything falling apart. If it takes six months to put it back together properly, then so be it.”

Patsy shoved his shoulder. “Boring. Where’s my Meredith gone? The bull-at-a-gate, and we’ll iron out the creases later, Meredith? I need to go home, Meredith. The sooner the better.”

“Then that’s what we shall do. What did Maxine say about it?”

“Loads, and absolutely nothing concrete. You must know what that’s like. I promised to call her as soon as we were home.” Patsy tilted her head. “Will you carry on speaking to her?”

“Honestly? I doubt it. She creates more questions and gives very few answers, but I will if I need to. Why?”

“Curiosity. Now, back to work. What’s your gut telling you about this case?”

“I’m not talking about work. Didn’t you hear the bit about one too many?” Meredith got to his feet and held out his hand. “Bedtime. And, so you won’t ask again, I have no idea, except it will be someone they know. Two sane, sensible adults do not go off with a stranger on a whim.”

Patsy grinned and slipped out of her robe, throwing it over the bottom of the bed.

“Why are you grinning?”

“Because that was the last thing I wrote. My brain is fully engaged, DCI Meredith.”

“It’s not if you think you’re getting into that bed with PJs on.”

Chapter Fourteen

Trump shut down his emails, closed his laptop, and smiled. He’d not heard from Meredith, but having just checked the latest files, he saw that both Patsy and Meredith had accessed them. Catching Seaton’s eye, he saw he was also smiling. He must have checked too. Seaton looked up and nodded as Trump got to his feet.

“Okay, chaps, attention please. Let’s get going. Today we have Christine Hawker’s parents, the Norrises coming in. We need to contact Carly Hemmings, Tim Arnold’s ex, and I would like another word with Barry Hawker, given we now know that Tim met with Mike Hawker on several occasions. We also need to find the chaps Christine was working with at the time and see what they have to say. Will, perhaps you’d like to call and hopefully meet with Carly. Tom and I will see the Norrises and the remaining three can start tracking down everyone else. I would ask if there were any questions but go on, Linda, I can see you’re bursting to say something.”

Everyone looked at Linda, who had her phone clamped to her chest and was bouncing up and down on her chair. She nodded and closed her eyes for a moment to compose herself.

“They’re coming home. Both of them.” She waved her phone in the air. “I’ve just had a text from Patsy.” Jumping to her feet, she headed for the door. “I’m sorry, you lot carry on, but I’ve got to try to speak to her.”

The team remained silent until Linda had left the room, when George looked from Trump to Seaton.

“Is it true? Did you two know?” George asked.

Both shook their heads and Seaton answered first. “I didn’t. I know they’ve both accessed the files, but no, and judging by the look on Louie’s face, he didn’t either.”

“And as we don’t yet know when they’re coming home, we should just get on with the investigation. If DCI Meredith suddenly appears, he won’t appreciate it if we’ve been slacking,” Trump replied.

“If Meredith appears with Patsy on his arm, he’ll be so happy he won’t even know why he’s here. It won’t last long, but we’ll have at least a day’s grace,” George replied. “Daisy, we won’t get a word of sense out of Linda now, so shall we crack on? You never know, we might solve this without Meredith bellowing from the corner.”

“Well said, George. When Linda gets back, she’ll interrupt us again. So, yes, let’s get on with it. Tom, who would you like, Mr or Mrs?” Trump asked.

“I’ll take Ronnie. They’ll be here within the hour, so we’d better get sorted.”

The Norrises arrived before Linda had come back. Seaton and Trump went downstairs to interview them.

“Normal service has been resumed,” Seaton commented. “Although Linda’s been gone for over an hour. Still, it’s been months, they have a lot to catch up on.”

“I just hope Linda’s not being too forthright. She has a way of asking unwelcome questions,” Trump replied, and ignored Seaton’s snort.

“I had noticed. But Patsy has known Linda a long time and wouldn’t take her call if she didn’t want to speak to her, although maybe not for this long. Chuffed for the guv, though. I thought I was on the way back to midnight calls and dragging him home.”

“Ah, that’s where you have the advantage over me, Tom. He was already with Patsy when I joined his team. I missed those delights, although I’ve heard the tales. That must be them. They don’t look thrilled to be here.” Trump pointed at the tanned, grumpy-looking couple and pulled open the door.

Ronnie Norris had his hands shoved in the pockets of his grey trousers which were a little too long, and concertinaed on shoes which could do with a polish. His downturned mouth only added to the myriad of wrinkles already at home on his round face. Pulling his hands from his pockets, he ran his hand over his balding head and nudged his wife as the door opened.

“Reckon they’re here for us.”

Shorter than her husband, and as chubby as her husband was lean, Debbie Norris turned to look. Pulling the straps of her handbag further up her arm, she watched Trump step forward.

“Mr and Mrs Norris, thank you for coming in. Would you follow me?” Trump led them down the corridor of interview rooms and opened number five after sliding the room sign to engaged. “Mrs Norris, you’ll be in here with DS Seaton. This way, Mr Norris, we’re a little further down.”

Seaton held his hand towards a chair as he placed his notebook on the table. “Take a seat. I’ll just grab us some water.”

Debbie Norris sat down and pulled on her blouse to straighten it before clasping her hands in her lap. She looked around as Seaton filled two cups at the cooler. “Is that a camera?” she asked, pointing above Seaton’s head.

“It is. Everything is recorded these days. Saves arguments and misunderstandings, and more importantly, it saves me having to make too many notes.”

“What’s that for then?” Debbie Norris pointed at his notebook.

“Bits and bobs. Things I might want to come back to, or an aide memoir.” Seaton sat opposite her. “Let’s get started. Tell me about Christine.”

Debbie rolled her eyes. “What about her? What do you want to know?”

“I want to know her as much as I can. What made her tick, what was her marriage like, etcetera? Anything that springs to mind.”

“Why?”

Seaton resisted the urge to sigh. It was going to be a long interview if every question was answered with another one.

“Because if we know that, it might point us in the right direction. So, you just chat away and I’ll butt in when I need to clarify something.”

Debbie’s ample chest rose before she blew out her breath. “She was a good mum. I think she got on well with Mike. He was a lovely bloke. Very patient.”

“Why do you say that? It sounds like he needed to be. Did he?”

“Oh yes. Christine had a set of rules. Her rules. Nothing else counted and woe betide anyone who stepped out of line. It was best to humour her. But he was with her a while before they got married, so he would have known that.”

“Christine was hard to get along with, is that what you’re saying?” Seaton asked.

“She was if you’d broken one of her rules.”

Seaton made a note, knowing Debbie would look. “Interesting.”

“Why? What did you write?”

“Check interviews. Because from memory, everyone interviewed about Christine described her either as a party animal or a good laugh. Perhaps those we’ve spoken to didn’t break any of her rules.”

“Perhaps not. Look, just ask what you want to know, because I want to know what happened to my daughter. I won’t speak ill of the dead if that’s what you’re after. I want to be at peace. You asking pointless questions isn’t going to help.”

“You think she’s dead, then?”

“Don’t you?”

“Probably, yes. But why do you think that? How long have you thought that?”

“Since the first week. However you choose to describe my daughter, good mother would always be top of the list. She wouldn’t have left Lottie and Oscar, not for all the money in the world.”

“You’re not the first to say that but then not many mothers would.”

To Seaton’s surprise, Debbie leaned into the table and tapped it with her nail as she spoke. “I didn’t leave her, and I didn’t leave him. I should have, but then he got cancer, and I knew she would choose to stay with him, so I stayed too. Is that what you wanted me to say? Or perhaps Christine loved everyone except me. Because that’s the truth of it. She thought the sun shone out of her father’s backside before he got ill, and once she knew he was dying, he became a saint.” Debbie puffed out a breath. “Couldn’t be further from the truth, but I couldn’t tell her that. Why shatter her dreams?”

“That’s not what I was after, no. But let’s get it out there so we can move on. I’m sure she didn’t hate you, but why do you think she did?”

Debbie closed her eyes and remained silent for more time than was comfortable. Just as Seaton was about to speak, she drew in a sigh.

“So now I have got to speak ill of the dead. Christine’s father was a total bastard to me. He lied, he cheated and he wasn’t averse to giving me a clout if I complained. Christine, though, she was the apple of his eye. She saw none of that. When she blew up about me being with Ronnie, I tried to tell her all that, because she was old enough to understand, and he wasn’t around to lie to her, but she wouldn’t have a word said against him, even then. Told me I was making it up because I’d been out sleeping around. I hadn’t. I got close to Ronnie because everyone needs someone to make them feel special, to feel needed.

“But I’ll tell you this, as God is my witness, we did nothing about it until Darren had died. I thought about ending the relationship, telling Ronnie that Christine was more important. But I couldn’t. I knew she’d leave me soon enough, and then what would I have? I’m only grateful she married Mike, because at least he believed I had a right to see my grandchildren. He understood what I’d been through. Left to Christine, I doubt I’d have even known their names.” Debbie clasped her hands together. “Not that I see much of them. I’ve got Glenys to thank for that.”

“Glenys Hawker prevented you from seeing the children? Why?” Seaton asked.

“Oh no. Too clever to try to stop me. She just didn’t invite us to anything. I’d have to ring and ask if they were around this weekend, or when can I see the kids for their birthdays or Christmas? I offered to have them over at ours for weekends or holidays, but she would never agree. In the beginning, it was, ‘it will be too disruptive’, or ‘just got them settled’. Then as they got older, ‘too much homework’, or ‘we’re going away’. Anything to keep them away from me. I stopped asking in the end, made do with sitting on the edge of the couch feeling unwelcome, and spending an hour here and there with them. I won’t lie, in the beginning I felt shunned, like I wasn’t capable or worthy. Don’t know why, but I assumed I’d be consulted about what should happen to the kids. I never was, and I’d lost my child, too. Glenys couldn’t see that, of course, probably because of the way Christine was with me. I think she’d decided there was no smoke without fire, and thought I must have been a terrible mother. I hadn’t been. In fact, the opposite, I’d chosen not to break my little girl’s heart by telling her what her dad was really like when he was alive. How could I? I learned to accept it. Same as I did with how Christine treated me when she was here.” Debbie swallowed and looked away, rearranging the collar of her blouse.

“I’m sorry to hear that, it must have been tough. Thank you for telling me, I can see how upsetting it is talking about it. When and how did you find out that Mike and Christine had gone missing?” Seaton asked.

“When one of your lot knocked on the door. To be fair, we weren’t close to the Hawkers, not even sure if they had our number once we moved, so they couldn’t have called. The police came at about eight o’clock the night they went missing. Of course, we didn’t know anything. The officer who was in charge seemed more worried about the light on Ronnie’s van than us. After that, the police pretty much ignored us. I learned more from the telly than your lot. Had to keep ringing them for updates, which were always nothing new. Nothing new! There was never anything old! Absolutely nothing. I hope you find out what happened, but I won’t be holding my breath. Not after all this time.”

Seaton nodded his understanding. “We have a good clear up rate, so keep your fingers crossed for us.”

“I will. I just want you to find her, I want to lay her to rest. Even Glenys Hawker can’t take that away from me. I didn’t get an invite to Mike’s burial and found out that had happened on the news. You know, whatever Christine thought of me, I never stopped loving her.”

“I’m sure. What would be your best guess at what happened?”

“What difference does that make? Was that a serious question?” Debbie threw her hands into the air. “Please tell me you haven’t stirred up all this upset in the hope someone might come up with a new theory for you to try out? I thought the police were…what do they call it? Under resourced. That’s it. If that’s true, why am I sitting here being asked to guess what happened?”

“Because you’re family. You knew them. Granted, it does seem like you were kept at arm’s length, but after that first week, when you believed Christine was dead, you must have had an opinion as to what might have happened to them. There are three theories: Mike killed Christine, did a runner and then, in a bizarre twist of fate, got killed himself. Christine killed Mike and ran off. Or someone killed them both. When you realised Christine wasn’t coming back, what was your best guess?”

Debbie picked at her nails as she considered this before answering. “Got to be the last one. Mike never had it in him to kill anyone, and neither of them would have left the kids. If you’re going to ask me who, I don’t know. If I could make a guess at that, I’d have said at the time. Who would want them both dead? To what end?”

“Again, there are several theories about that. One or other of them was having an affair and it all went wrong. They’d upset someone nasty, maybe a loan shark. They’d ripped off the wrong person. Someone stood to benefit from them being out of the picture. And I know that all sounds ridiculous when you apply it to a popular couple, who seemed to be in a loving, settled relationship, but it’s not because here we are. So, back then, when you thought about it, you must have had a theory or two yourself.”

Debbie shook her head. “I didn’t. Okay, I did. I thought perhaps some nutter had taken them. That one of them, probably Christine, had upset a madman. You know, parked over his drive once too often, made him look stupid at the pub quiz, or…I don’t know, did something tiny in the scheme of things, but as he wasn’t the full shilling, he went too far in his revenge. I kept waiting to hear that their bodies had been discovered. Didn’t expect it to take this long, and you still haven’t found Christine. You don’t even know where to look. I’m guessing you’ve searched the area where they found Mike?”

Seaton nodded. “Of course. Do you know of anyone either of them might have upset? Not necessarily someone you would have considered to be what you called a nutter?”

Debbie’s head moved slowly from side to side. “I’m not the best person to ask, am I? I was a visitor in their lives. Even when they had a houseful of people for a party, I only knew a handful of them.” She sighed and blinked rapidly, and reaching across the table, grabbed Seaton’s hand. “That’s sad, isn’t it? I’ve had a miserable life, can’t wait to be out of it, if I’m honest, but I would like to bury my girl before I go. Please let me do that.” Releasing Seaton’s hand, she pulled a tissue from her pocket and dabbed her eyes. “Do your job better this time.”

Seaton nodded. “We’ll do our best. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry about the van thing.”

“The van thing?”

“The officer being more worried about Ronnie’s van. I’ve got no idea what that was all about, but they should have been supporting you.”

“Oh that. He had a broken light. I was probably being unkind because I’m miffed. They didn’t make a fuss. Just pointed it out.” Debbie’s lips twitched a smile. “Sorry about that.”

“No apologies necessary, glad they didn’t make a fuss. I’m ashamed to admit I had the same problem a few weeks ago. Don’t know how long it was broken before I noticed but it took me weeks to find the time to get a new bulb. Sorted now though.”

“Oh no. Ronnie sorted it straight away. Well, the next day anyway. He’d had it parked outside of work that day, and it was smashed when he got back to the van,” Debbie explained.

“At work? That’s tough. Where was Ronnie working?”

“Could have been anywhere. He was a delivery driver back then. Self-employed. So he picked stuff up from all over the place, then delivered it to all over the place. All in Bristol though, wasn’t worth doing the long-distance stuff. Not enough money in it.”

“Tough job. What did he do after?” Seaton asked.

“Went on the taxis. Worked for a little company in the village until he retired. Did that for me. Ronnie could see how upset and unsettled I was, so he sold the van and did that because then he could pick and choose when to work. Ronnie’s a good man.”

“He sounds it. I can imagine how tough those first months were.”

“Days. He changed over that first week. Said he’d been thinking about it for a while, but me needing him made up his mind.” Debbie smiled. “Total opposite of the first one.”

Seaton pulled his phone from his breast pocket and tapped out a message.

“I’m glad to hear it. Sorry about that, it was important.” Seaton waved the phone at her before sliding it back in his pocket, and asked, “What about Mike? What was he like?”

“A nice man. A good dad. In the beginning, once they were married, he listened to what I had to say. He believed me, at least I think he did. Said he’d speak to her, try to make her accept I wasn’t the villain she made me out to be. He probably did, but nothing much changed. He always invited us to parties, though, and I made sure we always went.”

Debbie’s shoulders twitched. “But that’s all I know. After that promise, I only saw him when there were loads of people around. He was always polite. No, not polite. Kind. He was a kind man. To me anyway, and certainly to the kids. But what made him tick? I don’t know. Certainly not being in charge, not married to Christine. But they seemed happy.” Her shoulders rose again. “I don’t know what else to say. I was on the outside looking in.”

“You’ve mentioned Glenys. What was Barry Hawker like?”

“Okay. Always polite. Not as happy-go-lucky as Mike, but I don’t understand why you’re asking, what difference does it make what Mike’s dad was like?”

“We’re trying to build a picture of what Christine and Mike’s lives were like when they disappeared. What was going on in their personal life? You might not have been involved, but you might have noticed something that struck you as odd, or made someone stand out. Did you?”

Seaton knew the interview would be over in minutes. Debbie Norris looked blank, he doubted she had anything further useful for him. He watched her brow furrow.

“Are you saying you think it might be family who took them? Fishing to see if I thought it might have been Barry?” Debbie leaned back in her chair and folded her arms. “Look DS…sorry, I’ve forgotten your name. I didn’t think it might be anyone. Just someone. I never considered it might be someone I’d met. But it might have been. Could have been Glenys and Barry working together to get the kids. I wasn’t even consulted about that. You know, about what would happen to them. I don’t know why. They were my grandchildren, too. Ronnie said he thought it would be me looking after them, but perhaps Christine had left a will or something. But I didn’t think that they’d done it. I thought nothing because I didn’t know them well enough. Is that what you wanted me to admit? Well, now I’ve said it. I wasn’t involved in my daughter’s life enough to know bugger all. Have you finished with me?”

Seaton nodded as he watched Debbie control the tremor in her jowl as she fought to hold back her tears. “We’re done. Thank you for coming in. For the record, I wasn’t trying to make you say anything. If I’m honest, I think it’s amazing that you never stopped trying. Come on, I’ll take you back to reception and get you a coffee if your husband hasn’t finished.”

Debbie picked up her handbag and slid it onto her arm. “He should be done. Why would he still be in there? He knows less than me.”

Seaton ignored the question, and getting to his feet, opened the door. “This way.”

Ronnie Norris was no help to the investigation at all. His stepdaughter had hated him from the off because he wasn’t her dad. Debbie Norris was a saint to put up with her, and he’d been relieved when Christine had moved out. He knew the Hawker family, but not in any depth because Christine ignored him, which set the mood, and other than polite exchanges, he rarely spoke to anyone about anything while in her company. Ronnie could never understand why Debbie put herself through the pain of going to their various parties, and he only went because he wouldn’t let her go alone. If it had been his choice, he’d have stayed at home and ignored them. As a result, Trump had been winding the meeting up when Seaton’s text arrived. Having read it, he placed his phone face down on the table.

“Nearly there, Mr Norris. So, when the police came to tell you about the disappearance, you had no thoughts about what could have happened, and neither did Debbie, and you have no information about Christine or Mike that could shed light on what might have caused someone to abduct them. You were irritated by the officer who visited you mentioning the damage to the light on your van when they should have been out looking for them. Does that sum it up?” Trump asked.

“Yes. Took a while for you to catch on, but I know you’ve got a job to do. You must have finished with questions I can’t answer.” Norris relaxed back in the chair. “Debbie thinks Christine is dead too. Is that what you think?”

“Being honest, I think it’s likely. So, to the standard questions of those closest to the couple.” Trump smiled and made a show of turning to a blank page in his notebook, which had yet to be used.

“I wasn’t close to them, was I? I thought I’d explained that.” Norris sat up straight again.

“Assuming Christine was a victim, you were the victim’s stepfather. That makes you close, if not in the emotional sense,” Trump explained.

“Go on then. Ask away.”

“Take me through what happened in your life on the day Christine and Mike went missing.”

“Nothing. I got up, I went to work, I came home, the police came round. That’s it. There was nothing memorable about that day until the police arrived.”

“Although the light on your van got broken. How did that happen?” Trump asked.

“I don’t know. Came back to the van and there it was. Broken. I kicked the glass to the kerb and got on. Got it sorted the next day.”

“Prompt attention. Why was that?”

“What do you mean, why? Because it was broken. Look, I don’t mean to be rude, but—”

Trump interrupted, “What I mean, was it because the officer who came to see you mentioned it, or because you were selling the van?” Trump smiled. “Not a catch question.”

“How do you know I sold it? And what the hell has a broken light got to do with Christine going missing?” Norris demanded.

“It’s my business to know as much as possible about all those close to the couple, and whether it has anything to do with their disappearance, I won’t know unless you answer the question.”

Norris inclined his head and sucked in his bottom lip, studying Trump for a while. Trump remained impassive and stayed silent until Norris spoke.

“You think I had something to do with it, don’t you?” Norris looked confused.

“Honestly? I don’t know, but I would confess to being surprised at you avoiding answering what was originally a simple question.”

“I’m not avoiding it, simply trying to work out what it is you’re implying.” Norris crossed his arms and lifted his chin.

“This is going to take a long time, so let’s simplify it. Mr Norris, are you refusing to tell me why you decided to sell your van in the week after your stepdaughter and her husband went missing? That’s a yes or no question.”

Norris’s eyes widened. “Don’t treat me like an idiot. I wasn’t planning on selling the van that week until Christine went missing, although I’d thought about doing it, but not when. I was getting too old to be jumping in and out of a van all day, and I wanted an easier life. Them going missing made me realise you never know what’s around the corner, so I decided I should change things sooner rather than later. I got the light repaired because it was necessary. I drove the van for a living and I’m not a lawbreaker. Does that answer your question?”

“It does, thank you. What time did you start work that day? Where was your first appointment? Who were you working for?”

Norris thumped the table. “You do think I did it. So, let me tell you this. I didn’t do it, and I don’t know what time I started work. Between eight and nine was the rule. I was a delivery driver. I don’t remember exactly what jobs I had or when. And no, not even because it was that day.”

Trump raised his eyebrows. “No problem. We can find out. And what time did you finish?”

“Half fiveish. The news was on when I got in. We had fish for tea.”

“Ah, what was on the news?” Trump asked.

“No idea, the latest doom and gloom, as always.” Norris sighed deeply and slumped back in his chair.

“What type of fish? I’m partial to grilled sea bass myself.”

“Bit posh for us unless we’re in a restaurant, smoked cod. Might have been haddock. Couldn’t swear to it, but it was yellow. What’s the relevance?”

“None, I expect. But you remember getting in and the news, you remember yellow fish, but not where you were working.” Trump flipped his hand. “Not to worry, we’ll be able to find out. It might take a while, but if you remember in the meantime, please call me.” He slid a card across the table. “It will save us wasting time.” With a sudden movement, he got to his feet. “Thank you for your time. I’ll show you out.”

“You won’t. You’ll tell me why you think I did it. Why would I? What would I gain? I’m interested to know.”

“I don’t think anything at the moment, Mr Norris. I’m asking the same questions of everyone. You’re the only one who’s taken offence.” Trump watched Norris’s shoulders slump before he lifted Trump’s card and waved it at him.

“I’ll see if I can find anything in the box in the loft. I got records, but it’s touch and go whether they will be the right ones. Apologies if I spoke out of turn. Christine hated me and I didn’t like her. Too full of her own self-importance, but I had no reason to take them, absolutely none. You can dig and poke around as much as you like, but you won’t find a reason for it.” Norris got to his feet. “You can show me out now.”

As they approached the reception area, Seaton appeared with Debbie Norris. Ronnie Norris held out his hand.

“Come on, let’s get out of here. He thinks I’m involved somehow.” Norris jerked his thumb towards Trump.

Debbie looked Trump up and down. “Shame on you. Why?”

“Don’t start him talking again. Let’s go.” Grabbing her hand, Norris dragged her forward and pulled the door shut behind them, effectively stopping Trump and Seaton going with them.

“I don’t think he likes you, Louie. Not like you to upset someone. What happened?” Seaton turned towards the stairs, expecting Trump to follow him. “Are you—”

“Two minutes, Tom, I’ve got a call to make.” Trump scrolled through his contacts and held the phone to his ear as Seaton listened to the one-sided conversation. “Mr Hawker, Trump here. I need to speak to you again … Okay, that’s no problem. I’ll come to you … Today … Yes, I do … Splendid. I’ll see you at lunchtime. Thank you, and…” Trump looked at his phone. “He’s hung up on me.”

“Making friends and influencing people. What’s going on?”

“Nothing. After receiving your text, I spoke to Norris about the sale of his van. He gave me a reason, which may or may not be true, but we haven’t asked the other two. So, I’ll speak to Hawker senior about his van and what he was up to on the day, and hopefully you’ll do the same with Tim Arnold. We can also check how Tim Arnold was warned off.”

“Understood. I’ll call him once we’ve found out what else is going on, if anything.”

When they went back to the office, Linda jumped to her feet. “You’ll never guess what!”

Chapter Fifteen

When Meredith returned from reading the bedtime story, Patsy was still on the phone. Mainly listening and not talking. A smile played around his lips as he jerked his thumb towards the garage., Patsy nodded acknowledgement and he left her in the kitchen.

Once in the loft, Meredith showered, and grabbing his laptop, climbed into bed. It had been an exhausting weekend, and today, with the kids back at school, Patsy had shown him around more of the local sights, before convincing him they needed to book flights to go home. She was on a mission, and by the time he’d half agreed, Patsy had the laptop open and had told him it was done. They were leaving in two days’ time. Meredith wasn’t convinced the timing was right, but Patsy was so happy and excited he simply accepted it. He already had the familiar feeling of dread building up, although he was grateful she hadn’t opted for a sleepover in Dubai. If he left the airport, he wasn’t sure he’d have the courage to go back in. Shaking the thought away, he checked his emails, which were mainly junk, and opened the latest files on the Hawker case.

Once done, he began an email to Trump, but he had a lot to say so he called instead.

“Evening, Trump, although I suppose it’s morning for you.”

“Good evening, sir. I take it you know Linda has been speaking to Patsy so we all know you’re coming home this week. Great news. How are you both?”

“We’re doing okay. It’s great, fabulous, insert an appropriate adjective, Trump. I almost don’t want to leave, but Patsy has the bit between her teeth and wants to return, and get back to work.”

“That’s a good thing, I think. If it helps, we’re all delighted. I have an audience, by the way, you’ve stopped everyone working.”

“Have I? I’ll have a stern word with myself. Stick me on speakerphone and tell them to listen up.” Meredith waited while Trump did as instructed. “Morning all. I’m sure you’ve missed me. This is a quick call, and I shan’t be taking questions because it’s my bedtime, so listen carefully. With the Hawker investigation, I’m as up to date as the system is, and it’s clear you’re looking for one person who took both of them. That being the case, you need to come up with some whys. I’ve just watched the Norris interviews, and I’ve come up with several reasons why he might have done it. Do the same with everyone else because it’s going to be someone they know. Probably, but not necessarily, a man. Come up with reasons someone would take them. Jealousy, mistreatment, secret revelations, etcetera. Then see who that cap fits and see if you can prove it. Start by applying your list to their nearest and dearest, including the Clarks, and then work your way through acquaintances. The white van is a good lead, and possibly involved, but don’t close your mind to other possibilities. I’ll check back in tomorrow to see what you’ve come up with.”

“Have you missed us, Meredith?” George called from his desk.

“I said no questions. But I’ll answer that one. No, not at all. On that happy note, I’ll say goodbye.” Meredith hung up before anyone else could chip in and smiled to himself. He hadn’t missed them, not really, and although he couldn’t help but become involved, that thought made him smile. Because if he retired, it was good to know he would cope.

Patsy walked into the bedroom area. “Who was that? What’s making you smile?”

“The team. I gave them a few pointers, and George asked if I’d missed them. I said no. How was Loopy?”

“Exhausting, but amusing. Glad I called before we got back. It will save hours. What’s the latest on the case, and what pointers?”

“The usual. Find out the why, and the who will be obvious. I’m not talking about work. I only made the call because you were otherwise engaged. If we are going home in the next couple of days, we’re going to need all the sleep we can get. I’m knackered after entertaining the kids and you dragging me around. It’s time to sleep.” Meredith threw back the duvet. “Get in.”

Patsy went to clean her teeth, and once in bed, she snuggled into Meredith.

“You said if we’re going home. We are going, Johnny.”

“I know. I should have said when and not if. Not going to rush going back to work, though. I meant it when I said I hadn’t missed them.”

“Not sure that’s true. You’ve kept up to date with what’s going on. There’s a reason for that.” Patsy tapped his chest as she spoke.

“Yes, jet lag. If we’d been somewhere closer to home, I’d be sleeping like a baby and not giving them a second thought,” Meredith told her. “And, at the moment, it is still my department.”

Patsy sat up, and Meredith groaned. “The ‘if’ and ‘at the moment’ comments are worrying me, Meredith. Please tell me you’re not still suggesting we go home and take up gardening or something. I can’t do that. That time will come, but it’s not now.”

“That’s not what I said. You asked a question, and I gave you an honest answer. Lie down, Hodge, I was also being honest about being knackered.”

“But you promise we can go home and go back to being us? Back to work, back to moaning, everything back to normal.”

“Yes. As soon as you get the all-clear. Now sleep. It’s past midnight. The kids will be up here before I’m ready to wake up.”

Patsy didn’t answer but returned to her previous position.

“’Night, Hodge.”

“’Night, Meredith.”

Once Meredith’s breathing told her he was asleep, Patsy slipped from the bed, and collecting her phone, went into the bathroom. Call made, she headed back to bed, and cried out in shock as Meredith spoke.

“Who did you call?” Meredith asked.

“Chief Superintendent Ashworth. I told him we would be home by the weekend and that I’d like to return to work as soon as possible. I asked him what, if anything, I needed to do for that to happen. There’s bound to be a box load of forms to complete. That’s all. Sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you. Go back to sleep.”

“What did he say?”

“He was delighted, I knew he wanted us back because Linda and Louie had dinner with him on Saturday. He said he’d clear the way and to expect an email.”

“Clear the way? Not, we’ll speak to your therapist and see what she has to say?”

“I’m sure that will be included. I’m ready to go back, Meredith.”

“Does Maxine say that?”

“Are we going to fall out over this?” Patsy sighed. “I don’t want to fall out.”

“Then do this by the book. If Maxine says you’re good to go, then go we shall. If not, we’ll have to wait.”

Patsy sat up again. “Meredith, do you know how long I’ve waited to feel like this? Like me? I never thought it would happen. I thought…I thought horrible, awful things, and it scared me I might never be me again. And now I am. Don’t try to take that away from me.”

Meredith remained silent, and Patsy nudged him.

“Say something.”

“What would you like me to say? It seems to me you just want me to agree with you. I’d do anything for you, Patsy, you know that. I even got on a plane. But do you know how long I’ve waited to get you back? Do you know how scared I am that you’re rushing this, and I might lose you all over again? There’s not a lot I can say that you’d agree with, and no, we won’t fall out, although I would say I’m hurt and insulted you think I’d do anything to compromise your happiness. Go to sleep, Patsy. We’ll leave it with Ashworth, after all, he’s going to clear the way and sod the consequences.”

“So you think I’m wrong?” Patsy asked.

“I think you’re rushing it, and I think you should take professional advice. I think you’re doing what you think is right without asking the people who care about you. Look what happened the last time you did that,” Meredith replied with a sigh.

“Okay, point taken. But this is different. You must see that.”

“I’d like to think it is, and I do, sort of, but last time I thought you were on the mend, you assumed you were pregnant. You didn’t discuss it with anyone, and you spiralled to a place that was almost too far to come back from. I’m trying to avoid that, because I don’t know what might trigger something like that again. I don’t even know if it’s likely, but I’m bloody sure I won’t help it happen. But what do I know?”

“I thought I was pregnant because you didn’t tell me you had a vasectomy. You kept secrets from me. Quite monumental secrets. If I hadn’t found that letter, none of this would have happened.”

“My fault again. Bloody useful these broad shoulders. I’ll apologise again. My fault, hands up. But you didn’t think to get a pregnancy test, or tell me, or…or bloody anything. You’d decided and therefore that must be right. No advice, no checking the facts, just what you thought. What if you’re wrong again? What if you go back to work, something happens or is said that sets you off on the wrong path again? Would you survive this a second time? Would we?” Meredith knew he was pushing his point too harshly, so held out his arms. “Sleep on it, Patsy. We can talk in the morning, which is probably five minutes away now.”

Patsy ignored the invitation. “I’ll speak to Maxine again, okay? I’ll discuss any fears, irrational or otherwise, with you. Is that acceptable? I hope so. Because I’m going to go back to work, and not climbing the walls of that house again, and perhaps you’d be good enough not to keep secrets. That would help.”

Meredith sat up and leaned against her. His mind was racing, his heart thumping. Maxine had told him to do what he thought was best. He had to tell Patsy about Emily. What if she found out later when she was on the road to getting back to how things were? His instinct was to do it now before they got back on the plane. He knew Patsy had looked up at him, but he stared ahead into the darkness wondering if he had the courage to go with his gut.

After a few moments, Patsy nudged him. “I thought you were going to speak.”

Turning towards her, Meredith took her face in his hands. “Do you want to know my secrets? I’ll tell you if that’s what you want.” He felt her stiffen. “We don’t have to do this, but you can’t keep throwing that at me.” Patsy blinked, and he felt the moisture on his thumb. His resolve disappeared as he brushed it away. “We don’t have to do this. We could just go to sleep and tomorrow will be another day.”

“Do I know any of them?” Patsy asked, her voice barely a whisper.

“Her, not them, and no, you don’t.” Meredith’s voice cracked. “I think that’s enough, don’t you?”

“Will you see her again? Accidentally, I mean. I know you wouldn’t intentionally.”

“I doubt it. She was just passing through.”

“So, a stranger, not someone we knew. That’s good.” Patsy’s tears flowed freely, and she climbed onto Meredith’s lap.

“I knew her in the past. I bumped into her unexpectedly. But you don’t know her.”

Patsy sniffed and nodded against Meredith’s chest.

He tightened his hold on her. “That’s all there is to know. I was hurting and miserable, she was there, I was weak, and you didn’t call me back. I have you back now, so I’ll never be that miserable again. You know that.”

Patsy remained silent for a while and then cleared her throat. “I was going to ask what would happen if I made you miserable again, but that takes us full circle, doesn’t it? I’ll speak to Maxine properly, I promise. Are we done with secrets now?”

“Yes.” Meredith kissed the top of her head.

“Good. Now we can sleep.”

Without releasing his hold, Meredith fell back onto the bed. “Goodnight, Hodge.”

“Goodnight, Meredith.”

Chapter Sixteen

Seaton pointed the pen at the others. “Come on, let’s make a list. If they’re coming home, he won’t be able to resist the urge to check up on us, and you know how he likes to sit staring at the board.”

It didn’t take long for Seaton to have a list of reasons the Hawkers may have disappeared, written neatly in a column on the whiteboard:

Debt/Money

Jealousy

Infidelity

Abuse

Revenge

Love

“The skipper always says there are really only two motives: emotional and or financial. And I suppose if you look at that list, lots of them could be paired up. Jealousy and love, for instance, or debt and revenge. Hmm.” Linda chewed the end of her pen as she stared at the board.

“He does, my sweet. But this breaks it down further, and I am sure there are more subcategories that fall into those two main ones, but let’s just work with this, based on the personalities we have already spoken to, and see where it takes us. I’ll start. What if Simon Clark was in love with Christine? He could have gone to see her that morning, and something went wrong, and he decided to get rid of Mike, too. He had all day to cover his tracks before the school alerted anyone to an issue.”

“I don’t think so. It was he who called us. Surely, he would have just told the school Mike hadn’t been at work and not bothered calling the police. And that would be infidelity, love and revenge. The skipper is right, emotional is enough,” Linda responded. “I don’t think either of them was having an affair. I know we don’t know them, but no one has even hinted that may be a possibility.”

“Affairs are secret, though, aren’t they? If people close to you knew you were having an affair, there’s a chance it would be revealed. So, that doesn’t cut the mustard for me,” George told her. “Although, if one of them was having an affair, my money is on Christine. I don’t think Mike could have kept it from Clark.”

“But on that basis, with them being close, would Clark have had an affair with Christine?” Daisy asked.

“Yes, because that’s different. Although he would have felt guilty, I’m sure,” George replied. “But on balance, I don’t think that can be it.”

Seaton looked at Trump. “This is going to take hours. I think we should get on with what we were doing, let everyone have a think about it, and see if we come up with anything worth writing on here in the morning. I want to have a look at what Carly Hemmings had to say.”

“Me too. I haven’t had chance what with the call to Patsy. What was she like, Will?” Linda asked.

“Okay, I suppose. Very verbose, and if you ask me, not over Tim Arnold.”

“I’ll put it on, shall I?” Linda asked, her fingers already clicking away at the keyboard. “Anyone who’s already seen it can get on with something else.”

Kent switched on the recorder as he approached the florist. A bell tinkled as he opened the door, and an attractive blonde woman in a brightly striped tabard appeared through the plastic strips obscuring the doorway at the rear of the shop.

“Hello. How can I help?” the woman asked with a smile.

Kent showed his ID. “DC Kent, I’m here to see Carly Hemmings.” He smiled.

“Blimey, that was quick. We thought we’d get the wreath finished first. She’s through here. This way. I’m Sonia, her mum.”

Kent hoped his surprise didn’t show. He guessed Sonia was around fifty, and given that Tim Arnold was in his forties, he was closer to Carly’s mother’s age than Carly’s. To counter his surprise, he said, “My nan used to have these blinds on her back door. Each one a different colour, and with us kids messing about with them, each a different length too.”

Sonia ignored the comment but held her hand forward. “Here she is. Carly, DC Kent made it in record time, still, he wouldn’t get a ticket for speeding. Coffee, DC Kent?”

“Not for me, thanks. I’ve been drinking it all morning,” he replied as he shook Carly’s hand.

Once again, he hoped his poker face was working today. Carly had had a lot of work done. Neither her lips nor her eyebrows, which gave her a startled look, were the ones she had been born with, and as her face barely moved when she smiled, he guessed Botox was also an addition. He resisted the urge to look at her chest, so glanced around the highly perfumed room. “Thanks for seeing me so quickly. Is there somewhere private we can speak? The sooner we get started, the sooner I’ll be out of your hair.”

“Is it private? Why? What can Carly know that would be private?” Sonia asked.

“Not particularly, but private enough. I’d rather the public weren’t listening.” Kent glanced back towards the shop before pointing at the wreaths on the workbench. “Beautiful, by the way.” He looked at Sonia with a smile and realised she’d had as much work done as her daughter. “If there is nowhere suitable, we can always whip down to the station.”

“No, through here. She’s just being nosey. Hasn’t stopped asking me questions I can’t answer since you called.” Carly walked to the door in the corner and the bell in the shop rang as she pushed it open revealing a stark room, housing a table, two chairs, a fridge, on top of which sat a kettle, and a shelf that ran around the room at head height, holding various boxes, vases and other flower-related paraphernalia. She smiled. “Saved by the bell! I’ve just escaped a telling off.”

Once they’d taken a seat at so-called distressed wooden table, she asked, “So what’s this about? I’m not sure why you couldn’t tell me on the phone. Mum’s been having a field day. Accusing me of all sorts.” Carly rolled her eyes. “She loves a conspiracy theory.”

“Sorry about that, but when you said anytime, immediately was the most convenient for me, so stopping to discuss it seemed pointless. I’d like to speak to you about the disappearance of Mike and Christine Hawker. I—”

“What! Why? What’s it got to do with me?” Carly demanded, her voice shrill as colour flooded her face.

“Nothing that I know of. I just wanted to know what you knew about them. I have to say, Miss Hemmings, that’s a very unexpected response. Is there any reason for that?”

Her normal complexion returning, Carly shook her head. “No. Sorry. It’s her, my mum. What had I done? Was it about the row in the pub? Had I insured Betty? That’s what we call the van. Was the MOT okay? She always thinks I’ve done something wrong. I just assumed you did too. So, to answer your question, what I knew about them was very little. Virtually nothing. Mike was my ex’s half-brother. They had two kids and a nice house. Immaculate. They were both estate agents. Mike was funny. She didn’t stop chatting. Loud. That’s how I’d describe her. Probably the drink. She was the only one drinking white wine and was on the second bottle by the time I left.”

“But you liked them?”

“Yes, I suppose. I didn’t know them well enough.” Carly’s shoulder twitched. “You’d be better off speaking to my ex, Tim, Tim Arnold, although I suppose you already have if you know about me. What did he say? Why did he say you should speak to me?”

“He didn’t. He mentioned you’d met them. It was close to the time the couple disappeared and we’re speaking to anyone who had anything to do with them in that time. Why does that worry you?” Kent tried for a reassuring smile. “You seem a little angry.”

“Only when I talk about him,” Carly snapped, then sighing added, “Just thinking about him winds me up.”

Kent didn’t say he’d met Arnold and asked, “What’s he like? Is he really that bad?”

“God, where shall I start? Yes. No. Inconsistent, that’s what he is. Says one thing, does another. Agrees and then changes his mind. Infuriating.”

“Ah, I’m told I’m too agreeable. There must be a middle ground we need to find. How long were you with him?”

“Ten years.”

“Now that’s a long time. I’m sorry it didn’t work out. But if he was that maddening, I suppose I can understand you calling it a day.”

“Oh, it wasn’t me. It was him. In November we’re talking about getting married, then his dad got ill and died suddenly. By June, he’d decided he didn’t even want to live with me. In eight months, I’d had a proposal, planned a wedding, looked for a house to buy, and been dumped. And he couldn’t even tell me why. It wasn’t another woman. He’s still single. It’s bloody infuriating.” Carly blinked away the tears. “After we’d split up, he still bought the house we’d been looking at.” The corners of her mouth drooped before she gave herself a shake. “Anyway, that was me and him, not them. There’s nothing else I can tell you about them. You’re not interested in my love life.”

“So you only met them the once?” Kent asked.

“Yes, I said that. Mike wanted to keep any meetings secret, and so I’d just get a text saying: I’m going for a pint with Mike, or Don’t cook for me, I’m having a pizza with Mike. It’s like they didn’t want me there. Perhaps they didn’t.” Carly shrugged.

“I doubt it was personal. They had a lot of catching up to do. It’s not every day you find out you have a new brother,” Kent suggested. “How often did they meet? Weekly?”

“Seemed like it but no, not that often, and I was definitely the odd one out because Christine went occasionally. There again, it struck me that if she wanted something, she got it.”

“Can you explain that? You said you didn’t know them but you noticed that.”

Carly huffed and looked at the ceiling. “Difficult to explain. Christine just said I want, and she had her way. I’m sure if Mike said he was going for a drink with Tim and she wanted to go, she would. Like the night I met them. We were supposed to be going out for a meal and then a drink. Her kids were playing up and she wouldn’t leave them. So instead of letting us three go out for the night, we had to go there and have a takeaway. It was okay, but I’d have rather gone out. I can’t believe Tim wanted to stay that long.”

The change of plan seemed perfectly reasonable to Kent, but he didn’t pass comment. “Late night, was it?”

“It was for them, I had to be up early, and sitting watching them talk wasn’t worth being tired for the next day. It would have been different if we were having fun, so when I suggested it was time to leave, Christine said something like the night was young, which I suppose it would have been if we’d gone out, both Tim and Mike agreed, so she got her own way and I called a taxi.”

“What else did she get her own way about? And you never know, if you’d told Tim you wanted to him to leave with you, he might have said yes.”

Although Carly shrugged and nodded an agreement, her expression told Kent that that would not have been the case. He made a note for the next interview with Tim Arnold.

“What did you write?” Carly asked.

“Only a note to speak to Tim about Christine. It would be interesting to see what he thought about Christine ruling the roost,” Kent explained.

“Oh, he thought she was wonderful, a real good laugh, or so he said.”

“I’m sensing you didn’t like her.”

The shrug was back. “I didn’t know her. But if I had, we might not have got on unless she accepted that I also could do what I wanted to do, and that I wouldn’t jump to her tune unless it suited me.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning, she got stroppy when I said it was time to go. Tried to convince me to stay. I doubt she liked that I left, but Tim stayed, so I expect she thought she’d won.”

Kent nodded. “So you felt like it was a competition?”

“I didn’t say that, and no, I didn’t. It was boring. I wanted to go home, so I did. She might have seen it that way, but not me. But then they disappeared, and soon afterwards me and Tim split up, so we’ll never know if we’d have hit it off.”

“Good point. What was your opinion of Mike?” Kent knew her response would begin with a shrug. It did.

“He seemed a nice bloke. Funny, he was quite funny in the beginning before Christine took over the conversation. Tim thought he was sound. But, like I said, I only met him the once. I’m sorry but I don’t think I can help you, and I really should get back to work.”

“Okay, a couple more questions for you. What was Tim’s reaction to their disappearance? You were still together then, right?”

“Yes, for a few more months. He was shocked, kept saying, ‘bloody hell’ when we saw it on the news.”

“Did he speak to his birth father, Barry Hawker, about it?” Kent asked.

“Not that I know of. I doubt it. Barry didn’t like him. Didn’t think he was good enough for the Hawkers or something. We didn’t live in a big house like them, just rented a little one-bed flat.”

“Possibly. But their house isn’t that big, so I doubt that was it. Where w—”

“Compared to our flat, it was. You could have fit the whole thing in their kitchen diner. I’m still there.” Once again, Carly’s mouth drooped at the corners. “Doubt I’ll ever be able to afford to buy my own place.”

“My sympathies, I’m in the same boat. Fast as I can save towards a deposit, the price of property goes up and I’m just as far away.” Kent noticed this had cheered Carly, and she smiled at him.

“It’s alright for people like Tim and the like, whose parents have got money, or pop their clogs and leave them a healthy inheritance, isn’t it?” She rolled her eyes.

“I hear you. So, where was Tim on the morning they disappeared? Do you know?”

“At work I expect.”

“Do you remember what time he left the flat that day?” Kent knew from Carly’s eyes she would have been frowning if her muscles had the ability to move.

“I don’t know. At least once a week, I’d leave for work before him. I’d be gone by six. We have to get to the suppliers early to grab the best stock, so I’d leave him in bed. Anyway, he always left about seven thirty to eight, depending on where he was. Never earlier or he wouldn’t be able to get in, and sometimes later because he knew they wouldn’t be ready for him. Why? Do you think he might have taken them?” Carly smirked. “He wouldn’t like that.”

“Would anyone? Standard questions, read nothing into it. So, nothing else happened that day that might help you remember?”

“No.” Carly still seemed amused that Tim might be a suspect. “Are you going to ask him that question?”

“I’m sure we will. We’re asking everyone.”

“Oh, I wish I could be there to see it. I don’t suppose you’d come back and tell me how he reacts, would you?”

“You suppose right. No. Why, how do you think he’ll react?” Kent asked.

“I don’t know. But he won’t like it. Just you asking will make him feel uncomfortable. Hates confrontation. No balls. Like accepting Barry Hawker didn’t want to know him. I told him he should just go round to the house and see him. His wife would know then, and Hawker couldn’t ignore him. He didn’t though.” Carly glanced at the door as something was dragged along the floor in the prep room. “I’d better help my mum. She’s dragging boxes of stock through. I’ll never hear the last of it. Anything else you want to ask?”

“No. I don’t think so.”

As they left the room, the bell rang in the shop, and Sonia looked at her daughter.

“All done. I’ll see to the shop while you bring the rest of the stock in.”

Carly nodded and waving to Kent, said, “Mum will see you out. Good luck.”

Kent followed Sonia into the shop and was about to leave when he changed his mind and hovered around while she served the lady at the counter. He opened the door when the customer left.

“Did you need to speak to me? Sonia asked. “Although I don’t even know why you’re here.”

“No, it was about the Hawkers. You know Tim’s half-brother and his wife. Not unless you met them?”

“No, thank God. Carly hated them. Got fed up with hearing her moan about them. It’s an awful thing to say but I was almost glad when they disappeared. Didn’t expect him to turn up dead, though. I heard on the news that they’d found his body. Did the wife kill him and do a runner?”

“Don’t know. That’s what we’re hoping to find out.”

“So, what did you want?”

“A bunch of flowers. Make it a pretty one because they’re for a pretty girl. Something like that one in the window. I picked up that Carly wasn’t taken with them. Why was that do you think?” Kent asked as Sonia selected some blooms and arranged the bouquet. “She only met them the once.”

“Not for want of trying. I think she was jealous. Tim didn’t invite her to go with him when he saw…Mark? No, not Mark, Mike. That’s it. Always wants to be kept in the loop our, Carly. Tim didn’t think the same way.” Sonia held up the bouquet. “Will that do, or do you want more?”

“No, that’s perfect, thank you.”

Linda grinned at Daisy. “Were they nice?”

Daisy flushed. “I expect so. I haven’t seen them.”

Linda’s head jerked to look at Kent. “Will?”

“Damn. They were supposed to be a surprise. They’re in water. I’ll get them when we clock off. Louie, what now? Before I get myself in more trouble.” Kent winked at Daisy, who blushed again.

“Sort it out with Tom. Hawker’s in. Wish me luck.” Trump hurried from the office.

“Tom?”

“I’m waiting for Tim Arnold to arrive. He’s working around the corner, so said he’d pop in. You can sit in on it if you want. In the meantime, let’s see what Hawker has to say for himself.”

“I don’t know why you’ve felt the need to drag me in here again. It’s like you want her to find out,” Hawker grumbled as he pulled out a chair. “What is it this time?”

“A few things have come to light, which have a raised a few questions. You do know we’re trying to find out why your son and probably your daughter-in-law were killed. I’m surprised you find that so irritating. Shall we get on?”

“Don’t you go accusing me of not wanting to help. That’s wrong. All I’m saying is…you said new stuff had come to light. What stuff?” Hawker leaned towards Trump. “And what’s it got to do with me?”

“We’ve spoken to Tim Arnold and his partner at the time, and both have intimated that Tim was warned off by you. The phrase warned off seemed out of kilter with what you’d told us. We need to clarify that.”

“Why?” Hawker demanded.

“Why? Because we need an accurate account of what happened. You told me that—”

“I meant, why is whatever was said between me and Tim Arnold important to finding out what happened to Mike and Christine? It was ages before.” Hawker rolled his eyes before slumping back in the chair.

“Because at the moment we don’t have a reason for why they disappeared. It might have been personal to them, it might have been for an external reason. Tim Arnold showing up was a key event because it’s not every day you gain a brother, or in your case, a son. We have to rule out his appearance and the cause of their disappearance. Mike was keen to get to know his brother and met with him on numerous occasions. Did you know that?”

Hawker remained silent and chewed on his bottom lip. Trump wasn’t sure if he was considering what he’d said or containing his temper. Eventually, Hawker looked him in the eye.

“Are you suggesting that Tim Arnold had something to do with it? Because you’d better not be suggesting it was me, and if you are suggesting Tim Arnold, why? Why would he take them and kill Mike? What’s your reasoning behind it?”

“There is none. But the most likely reason for their disappearance is that they were convinced to go somewhere with someone they knew. We’re working on those closest to them. It’s unlikely they both agreed to go with a total stranger,” Trump explained.

“And you suspect Tim Arnold?”

“We suspect everyone at the moment, which leads me to your movements. We’ll come back to your meeting with Tim Arnold.”

“MINE? I’m his father, for God’s sake.” Hawker got to his feet and jabbed his finger towards Trump. “I’m his father! Fathers do not kill their sons. I’ll tell you what my movements were: up, work, eat, bed and repeat. I also took the occasional holiday, but I didn’t stick his body in my bloody suitcase and hope no one would notice. Write it down. I did not kill my son.”

“Please sit down, Mr Hawker. Where were you that morning? What time did you leave for work?” Trump spoke in his usual polite tone and pointed at Hawker’s chair.

“I will not. I will not bloody sit down and be insulted for no good reason.”

“No insult intended, Mr Hawker, but as explained, I have to investigate the murder of your son thoroughly. To do that, I need to ask you questions. Will you please sit down and tell me what you were doing on the morning your son disappeared?”

“What’s happened that you’re asking me? Something has, or you’d have asked me before.”

“A white van was seen near your son’s house at around the time Christine is believed to have gone missing. It may or may not have been involved. You had a white van then, did you not?”

“I did, but so did lots of…ah, so you’ll be asking him this too.” Hawker dropped onto his chair. “I was working on-site at Coldharbour Road. Loft conversion and extension. I don’t remember the number.”

“And what time did you leave for work? What time did you arrive, and can you remember who you were working with that day?”

“I would have left between half seven and eight like I always do. Don’t know what time I arrived, at a guess twenty minutes later. No, I don’t remember who was there. I only remember where I was because I was up on the roof when I was asked to go and get the kids. What did Tim Arnold say? I mean, it’s mad thinking it was me, but why do you think he might have done it?”

Trump ignored the question. “Were you working direct for the client, or were you subcontracted?”

“I was a subbie. Why are you ignoring my questions?”

“Not ignoring them, simply trying to keep us on track. Who were you working for?”

Hawker closed his eyes. “Bendle’s Design and Build. I put a price in, but he wanted me to do other stuff and oversee the site, so I was on a day rate. It was good money. Now, talk to me about Arnold.”

“And do you have a contact number for Mr Bendle? I assume there is a Bendle. Is he the correct contact?” Trump asked as he opened his notebook and ignored the huff from Hawker.

“Not now, no. I’m retired but I’ll have it somewhere at home. I’ll look it out and call you. Can’t promise he’ll still be using that number.”

“Thank you, talking of home, I should warn you that if Mr Bendle or your co-workers can’t confirm your time of arrival on site, we will need to speak to Mrs Hawker and see if she remembers what time you left.” Trump grimaced. “I know you don’t want us to speak to her but it might become necessary.”

Blood rushed to Hawker’s face, and he thumped the table. “That’s it. I’ve had enough. Do what you will. I’m going home.”

“I can’t stop you, of course, but wouldn’t you rather tell me your side of the story?”

“What bloody story? I haven’t told any stories!” Hawker raged.

“About exactly what you said to Tim Arnold that would make him think he’d been warned off?” Trump closed his notebook and got to his feet. “I’ll show you out. Don’t forget the contact details for Bendle. It may avoid a visit to Mrs Hawker.”

Hawker didn’t move. “I didn’t warn him off in the way you mean, just told him I had a son, who he’d met, a wife who wouldn’t understand, and there was nothing in it for him. I’d never recognise him as my son, so all it would do is upset everyone. But I’ve told you this.”

“This was in the pub when you were with Mike?”

“Yes. How many times can I say it?”

Hawker still carried a high colour, and Trump was a little worried.

“Thank you. So, as far as you’re concerned there was no warning, and Tim Arnold was mistaken in his understanding.”

“Yes. As I said. Are we done now?”

“If you would like to be. But one last question. Did Mike say anything about Tim Arnold after his initial meeting?” Trump slid his pen into his inside pocket.

“Not really. He thought I was making too much of what his mother would have to say. Well, he would. She never had a cross word to say to him. He’d not seen her riled, and he didn’t know how long she could carry a grudge. Her and Christine were cut from the same cloth in that regard, not that I’d tell her that. He asked me to meet him again, or to let him tell Glenys. I refused. Firmly. We never spoke about it after that.”

“When did this conversation take place?” Trump asked.

“Couple of days after we met him.”

“Did he try to speak about it again?”

“Only once a few weeks after. The girls had taken the kids to the cinema. I told him I’d go home if he kept on, so he shut up. How often does Arnold claim he met with Mike?” His colour was now back to normal, and Hawker rubbed his hands over his face.

“Four of five times, I think,” Trump replied.

“Four or five! Where? How did I not know about it? Why would he go behind my back?”

“As I understand it, the pub mainly. Once with the children at a rugby match, and once at your son’s home. Why don’t you speak to Tim Arnold? He’ll be able to tell you. He is your son, and I’m sure—”

Hawker thumped the table again. “The Tim Arnold who is currently a suspect? That’s it. You’ve insulted me enough. Who’s your boss? I want a word about how his men conduct themselves. I’ve never been so insulted in my life. Give me his contact details.”

Trump sighed and lifted his pen. “I’m afraid my immediate superior is on leave, not sure when he’ll be back. But this is the name and number of the chief superintendent. I can assure you, Mr Hawker, that I—”

“You can stick your assurances where the sun don’t shine. You do not call me or my wife again. Do you understand? I’m a grieving father and I’m treated like this. Bloody shocking is what it is.” Hawker raised his eyes and looked at the red flashing light of the camera. “I hope you’re getting this. Bloody unacceptable.” Snatching the sheet torn from Trump’s pad, he got to his feet. “I’m off.”

Trump followed him towards reception and hit the release button as Hawker struggled to open the locked door. He stifled a groan as the door from the street opened and Tim Arnold walked in.

Both men stopped and looked at each other.

“Barry. I wasn’t expecting to see you. I’m really sorry about Mike. I would have called, but…you know. How are you?” Arnold looked like he wanted to be anywhere but where he was standing.

“Get out of my way. They think you might have done it. Do you know that? Did you?” Hawker was swaying from side to side. Trump stepped forward and placed a hand on his shoulder, which was shrugged away. “Get off me. I’m only speaking the truth. Tell him.”

Arnold looked from Trump to Hawker and back again. “Is that why I’m here? Are you kidding me?”

“Tim, step this way. Mr Hawker is a little out of sorts.”

“Tim? Tim? Bit pally, aren’t you? And of course I’m out of sorts. I’ve just been asked to provide an alibi for the murder of my son. And so will you be.” Hawker jabbed a finger at Arnold before stepping to one side and hurrying to the front door.

Trump nodded at the desk sergeant, who released the door before turning back to Arnold.

“This way. I’ll give DS Seaton a call and all will be explained.”

Chapter Seventeen

DS Tom Seaton held out his hand as he entered the room. Tim Arnold had been pacing, and turning around, took Tom’s hand and looked him in the eye.

“Why am I here? Barry Hawker said you’re going to accuse me of killing Mike and Christine, is that true?”

“Let’s sit down.”

“I’m not sure I want to. Am I under arrest? I should be working. I’m losing money being here.”

“Understood, and no, you’re not under arrest. Take a seat, it’s only a few questions, which hopefully won’t take too long.” Seaton watched him drop onto the chair. “Thank you. We’ve had some new information that we need to sort out. You drive or did at the time of the Hawkers’ disappearance, a white van. Is that correct?”

“Yes. But what’s that got to do with anything?” Arnold demanded.

“Can you remember where you were on the morning they went missing?”

“So they were taken in a white van? Do you know how many white vans there are out there?” Arnold held out his hands in disbelief.

“We do. That’s why we’re speaking to those close to the Hawkers before we widen the net. We’re not accusing anyone, simply eliminating people,” Seaton explained.

“Ah, okay, that explains why Barry Hawker was so wound up. So, yes, I was driving a white van then, but no, I didn’t take them.”

“And where were you between say seven and nine thirty on the morning they went missing?” Seaton asked.

“I don’t know. That was over ten years ago. I could have been anywhere.”

“Let’s break it down a little, then. Where were you when you found out they had gone missing?”

“Eating my tea in front of the telly. I was still living in the flat with Carly then. It came on the news. It was weird because I’d only seen Barry Hawker that morning and I thought then that he looked angry.”

“Where did you see him?”

“Builders’ merchants on Kellaway Avenue. He was slinging stuff into the back of his van. Literally lobbing it in. He wasn’t happy, but then again, I’ve never seen him happy,” Arnold explained.

“Did you speak?” Seaton asked.

Arnold barked out a laugh. “Not after the last time.”

“When you met him in the pub, do you mean?”

“No, after that, we were in the Mall. That would have been about a month after the pub.”

“Tell me what happened because Mr Hawker claims he only met with you once, at the pub with Mike.”

“I suppose that’s true in a way. We didn’t meet so much as bump into each other. Bloody awful day, shopping, row with Carly, and him shouting the odds and making a scene.” Arnold looked at Seaton and shrugged. “It was embarrassing.”

“I’m sure. He has a temper. Tell me about it.”

Carly linked her arm in Tim Arnold’s and smiled. “Shall we look for rings while we’re here?”

“Ah come on, Carly. I came here for some new boots, and I only agreed you could come because you promised you wouldn’t drag me round loads of shops.” Tim glanced at the screen on his phone. “It’s half twelve, England kick off at two, so no, we’re not looking at rings today.”

“But you said we—”

“I said we would, but I absolutely didn’t mean today. Not unless you want the first one we see. I’ve been looking forward to this match and I’m not missing it.” Tim stopped walking. “I want to go in here. Are you coming in?”

A sullen faced Carly glanced at the shop. It sold mainly walking, climbing and camping gear, and she screwed up her nose. “No. I’ll have a wander round. I’ll meet up with you later.”

“You will not. I’m not missing this match.”

“I’m not shopping, just looking at stuff, which is more interesting than tents, books and woolly socks. How long will you be?” Carly pulled her phone from her bag. “I’ll set an alarm,” she told him, rolling her eyes.

“About ten minutes if they’ve got my size. If not, I’ll have to go to the one upstairs.” Tim glanced at his phone again. “Look, I’ll meet you at the fountain at one o’clock. If you’re not there by one fifteen, I’m off and you’ll have to call a taxi. I’m not joking.”

“I know that. I’ll be there. If you’re lucky, I might buy you a coffee and a cake.”

“To take away. I’m not sitting down. Go on then, get going, or I’ll be on the way home.”

Tim flapped his hand, dismissing her, and walked into the shop. He was in luck; they had both the style and size he wanted and twenty minutes later he was sitting near the fountain wondering what had possessed him to agree to Carly joining him. Someone slapped his shoulder and plonked themselves down next to him. He turned and was surprised to see Christine Hawker.

“Hello. I thought it was you. Bought anything nice?” Christine pointed at the bag between his feet.

“Boots. I hate shopping, unlike you by the look of it. You know it’s not Christmas, don’t you?” Tim looked at the collection of bags Christine was attempting to balance next to her chair.

“I do. But Lottie’s birthday is coming up, Oscar has outgrown yet another pair of shoes, and I needed new trousers for work. Did Mike call you about next weekend?”

“Yes. I’ll be there.” Tim glanced at his phone again and tutted.

“Have you been stood up?” Christine grinned and bumped her shoulder against his arm. “Can’t believe that.”

“I wish. I’m waiting for Carly. Can’t believe I agreed to her coming. I knew I shouldn’t have brought her. England kicks off at two. I want to be anywhere but here. Not that I mind seeing you. No offence.” He laughed and returned the shoulder bump.

“Yes, I know. Mike’s got a few lads from work coming round to watch it. I’ll be able to stash this lot away before he knows how much I’ve spent. On that note, I’ve still got to track down some stuff for Lottie’s party. I’d better get on. Oh, damn.”

As Christine got to her feet, one of her bags broke and lost its contents, emptying them over the floor. Tim collected them and handed everything back to her.

“You’re a gentleman, thank you. I’d give you a hug, but no arms.”

Grinning, Tim pulled her into a hug and kissed her on the cheek. She returned his smile.

“See you at the weekend,” she called, as she walked away.

Christine was still in sight when Tim was yanked by the arm to face the other way. Barry Hawker began poking him in the chest.

“What was all that about?” Hawker demanded. “Don’t answer because I don’t care. I told you no. You’re not a part of our family, and you never will be. I don’t know what was going on there, but it has to stop. You hear me? Don’t get too cosy, it’ll end in tears.” With a final poke, a red-faced Hawker stormed off.

But Tim’s telling off wasn’t over.

Carly appeared and jerked her thumb over her shoulder. “Who was that, and more importantly, who was she?”

Tim was in no mood for another argument, not that he’d had the opportunity to respond to Hawker, and he headed for the exit. “That was my dad. Yes, that’s right, Barry Hawker, the man who gave me life. Are you done? Because I’m going right now.”

“He didn’t look happy. Why not? But who was the woman you kissed? You looked very cosy, bumping shoulders and kissing her. I’ve never seen her before.”

Tim stopped walking. “He was pissed off because he didn’t want me having anything to do with them. You know that. He was simply reminding me. He told me not to get too cosy, so you’re singing from the same hymn sheet because the woman who I kissed on the cheek was my sister-in-law, Christine. You’ll meet her at the weekend. Jesus, Carly, only you could see a peck on the cheek as a snog.”

“Why didn’t you tell him? Did you tell him? You know what you should do, don’t you?” Carly was almost running to keep up with Tim, and she grabbed his elbow. “Slow down.”

“No, I’m not missing this match. What should I have told him, Carly? Go on, tell me. It doesn’t matter what I say, he’s not interested, and that’s fair enough. Mike and Christine are, and that’s good enough for me.”

“No, it’s not good enough, is it? He’s your dad. It’s disgusting. Family. Blood family. Christine isn’t blood. You should go round to his house, knock on the door and get him to tell his wife. She deserves to know. Will you slow down, please!”

“No. To both. I told you it was an in and out visit. You should have driven yourself if you wanted to hang around. In fact, stay here. I’ll come and pick you up after the game.” Tim forced a smile.

If she agreed, she wouldn’t talk to him throughout the game. In fact, he might give Mike a ring and go to his place to watch it. The more he thought about it, the bigger his smile grew.

“I couldn’t, could I? My van’s in for an MOT. I told you that yesterday. You don’t listen to a word I say. And, no, I won’t stay here. What if it goes to extra time? In fact, knowing England it will be penalties, and they’ll lose, and I’ll be stuck here for hours waiting for a miserable so and so to pick me up.”

“Then stop nagging about something that won’t happen and get in.” Now outside, Tim pointed the fob at the van and walked around to the driver’s side with a sigh.

Carly climbed into the van. “I do not nag. I’m just looking out for you.”

“No, you’re not, Carly. You have an opinion on everything and seem to make sure it doesn’t agree with anyone else’s. It’s wearing me down.”

“Wearing you down? What does that mean? What are you saying? You know I love you, Tim. I promise I’m only thinking of you. I’m sorry if you think that’s nagging.”

“I’m not getting into an argument that will go on for the rest of the day, so I’ll say okay. But next time you’re looking out for me, don’t bother. When we go out with Mike and Christine, I don’t want you causing grief. Okay? Now, end of conversation.”

“What does that mean? Causing grief? For who? You? Why are you trying to impress them? He’s supposed to be your brother.”

Arnold held up his hands and shrugged at Seaton. “It just went on and on. We split up a few months later.”

“Hmm. Did Carly cause you grief at the meeting with the Hawkers?”

“Only the usual. She was miffed before we got there because of the outfit. I’ve told you this, haven’t I? Anyway, it was a nice evening, relaxed, but she had an agenda, God knows what. She had a bee in her bonnet about Christine, but none of us played ball. I was actually glad when she said she was going home.”

“I can see how that would be the case,” Seaton agreed. “What was on her agenda, do you think?”

“Can’t remember all of it. Mainly to do with them getting Barry to accept me, which, to be honest, I didn’t care about by then. What would be the point after a start like that? I tell you what it wasn’t, it wasn’t anything to do with them going missing.” Arnold slumped against the back of his chair.

Seaton nodded. “Okay, so back to where you were when they went missing. We’ve established that you saw Barry Hawker on Kellaway Avenue the day you saw it on the news. That would have been Wednesday or Thursday if memory serves me right. What were you buying? Work back from there?”

Arnold closed his eyes for a few moments before shaking his head. “I can’t remember. Even if I knew I had a roll of cable in my hands, it wouldn’t help. That’s not uncommon. I’m sorry, I don’t know. It’s too long ago.”

“How good is your bookkeeping?”

“Average to shit. Why?” Arnold asked.

“Perhaps you could go back through your books and find out where you were working,” Seaton suggested.

“So, Barry was right. You want an alibi.”

Seaton’s bottom lip jutted out as he nodded. “For elimination, yes.”

“Well, you’d better arrest me. I just add up what’s come in, take off what goes out, and fill in the form for the tax man. Most of the time I have to keep my fingers crossed they won’t ask for invoices and receipts. Not that I cheat, I’m just rubbish with paperwork, so I do it from my bank account, so…” Tim clicked his fingers and grinned. “That’s how I might find out. Can you get bank statements from that long ago?”

“You certainly can,” Seaton replied.

“Then I’ll get on to it.” Arnold glanced up at the clock. “Can I go? If I don’t get finished today, I won’t be able to invoice them, and it will mean I start the next job late.”

“Go on then. Don’t forget those statements.”

“I won’t. Can you do it for me? On the telly, the police get phone records and statements and all sorts when they’re investigating a murder.”

“We’d need a warrant, unless, of course, you give us permission. Jot down your account details and expect a call from your bank.” Seaton flipped to a blank page in his notebook and passed it across with his pen. As Arnold pulled the details from his phone, Seaton asked, “What sort of van does Carly drive, and why has she got one? I thought she was a florist?”

Arnold’s head shot up. “Hyundai HiAce, and before you ask, yes, a white one, if you ignore the flowers and the logo. Still had it the last I knew. They used to have three shops when her dad was alive, so it was necessary to collect stock and to make deliveries. They went down to one shop when her dad died. It was his business and his van. I think that’s when she started nagging, you know. When he died. She idolised him. But you can’t seriously think she had anything to do with it? Why would she?” Arnold looked amused.

“Why would anyone? That’s what we’re trying to find out.” Seaton took back his pad and glanced at the details provided. “Thanks. They’ll contact you for permission. Let’s get you back to work.”

When Seaton walked back into the office, Linda hurried over to him.

“Uncle David has just called. He wants to speak to Louie. Do you think Barry Hawker might already have called?”

Chief Superintendent David Ashworth was Louie Trump’s uncle. Trump made an effort to keep out of his way, usually failing because Ashworth had a soft spot for Trump and made it his business to keep up to date with how he was doing.

“No idea. Where is Louie?” Seaton asked.

“I don’t know. He saw who was calling and said he’d be back.”

“Then I’m guessing he won’t be calling the super anytime soon.”

“No. He wouldn’t ignore him. That would mean he’s turning into the skipper.” Linda pulled a face.

Seaton laughed. “That’s what Louie said about me. I reckon the sooner the guv gets back behind that desk, the safer we’ll all be.”

Chapter Eighteen

Meredith opened an eye and listened to the phone vibrating on the table next to him, and deciding to ignore it turned his back, throwing his arm over Patsy.

“What’s the time?” Patsy mumbled.

“No idea. I’d have to look at it to find out. It might be someone I want to speak to.”

“Meredith, answer it. I’m awake now.”

Grunting, Meredith turned back and snatched up the phone, snapping his name.

“Ah, good. I thought you’d be up. Have you watched the interview with Barry Hawker? Sorry, should say, it’s Ashworth here.”

Meredith sat up and squeezed the corner of his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. “Sorry, sir, you’ll have to run that by me again.”

“Are you still in bed, Meredith? I thought you were an early riser.” Chief Superintendent Ashworth sounded irritated.

“I am when I’m working. What’s the time?”

“Six thirty. Apologies. But as I was saying, I wondered if you’d watched the interview with Hawker and wanted your thoughts.”

“I’m on leave, sir.”

“Yes, yes, I know that but Patsy told me you’re returning soon and have been keeping up with the progress on the case. Shall I give you a few minutes to splash some water on your face? Can’t leave it any longer as we’re out for dinner tonight, and I’d like to get this sorted as I’m in meetings all day tomorrow.”

“Patsy told you that, did she? Well, give me twenty minutes and I’ll have a look while Patsy makes me some coffee to wake me up. Anything in particular I’m looking for?”

“Not really. It’ll be obvious. Twenty minutes.”

Meredith looked at his phone before dropping it back on the bedside table. “He hung up on me. Coffee please, Hodge. This is your fault. It’s all very well you creeping around the boss to get your feet back under your desk, but dropping me in it is not appreciated. Do you know the last time I had a holiday?”

They climbed out of bed at the same time, Meredith headed for the bathroom, Patsy the kitchen. When he returned, he dropped onto the couch and flipped open his laptop.

Placing a mug on the table, Patsy frowned. “I thought you were up to date. By the way, that’s instant, we’ll have to go downstairs if you want proper coffee.”

“Nope, they’ve had a full day while we were sleeping. Hush. Here we go.” Meredith lifted the mug and hunched over the screen. Having watched the interview, he looked at Patsy. “What do you reckon he wants me to say?”

“I don’t know. I’m guessing Hawker made the complaint. Louie was quite direct for him, but he did nothing wrong,” Patsy replied. “You wouldn’t have been so accommodating.”

“Better find out. Nothing else grabbed my attention. Bloody hell, if we ever manage a holiday, a proper one, I’m banning phones.”

Patsy smiled as Meredith returned the call, hit the speaker button, and balanced the phone on his knee as he slumped back against the couch.

“Well?” Ashworth snapped.

“I don’t know what you want from me? It was a reasonable interview with a fairly hostile Hawker. You can understand that. His son is dead. I’m taking it you got a call?”

“I did. That’s dealt with. What I want from you is your gut instinct. Shall we back off unless we have something concrete?”

“Why are you asking me and not Trump? You’re going to have to spell this out for me.”

“It’s Louie I’m having dinner with. But you know more about this case than I do. I want to point him in the right direction.”

“If that was my interview and not Trump’s and you got a complaint, what would you have done?”

“Meredith! You are answering every question with one of your own. You must know what I’m after. If you were here, and you took that complaint, what would you do?”

“I’m not you. Look, sir, with all due respect, what you should do is what you would have done if it was me. I know I’ve only just woken up, but I can’t believe you’re actually asking me for advice on something so trivial.”

Chief Superintendent Ashworth didn’t respond, and Meredith questioned whether he was trying to calm himself.

“Sir, are you still there?” Meredith asked, grinning at Patsy.

“If it were you, Meredith, I’d ask if you felt the need to harass a grieving father and possibly open up a can of worms the family could well do without. You’d give me your reasons, and I’d direct you. You would then probably ignore me and get on with what was necessary. But this is Louie, not you. Louie would follow my instructions.”

“Ah, so you’re suggesting you’re not always right, but have to put on a show, I…” Meredith looked at Patsy, who was flapping her hand and shaking her head. He rolled his eyes at her. “I was joking, of course. Treat Trump in exactly the same way. He’s a big boy, he’s good at his job and he hates wasting time. He won’t interview anyone for the sake of it, especially a grieving father.”

“Why didn’t you just say that? So, your instinct is that Hawker didn’t do it, but if any more evidence suggests otherwise, you’d haul him in faster than his feet could touch. You’re more irritating long distance than you are here in Bristol. I might pop in on Monday when you’re back.”

“Hang on. First, I said nothing about my instinct, and second, I’ll be in the country, but not necessarily back at work. Jet lag, sir, and Patsy needing to get the sign-off from her therapist and what have you. I’m not rushing this, sir. The department is in perfectly capable hands.”

“Patsy has the all-clear on the understanding that she continues to have weekly sessions with Ms Selby. I emailed you. Oh. You may not have read the email yet, I sent it earlier.”

It was Meredith’s turn to stay silent.

“Meredith, are you there? We have a table booked in twenty minutes, and we’re already going to be late.”

“You didn’t phone about Hawker at all, did you? I thought you were losing your touch for a moment. What’s so urgent you want me back behind my desk?”

“Both of you. I want both of you behind your desks. I can’t see this case going anywhere. We have to start the ball rolling on another one. I’ll speak to you on Monday. But for now, I really must dash.”

“You already have a case in mind. What is it?” Meredith asked.

“Monday. Meredith, Monday.”

“Send me the headlines tomorrow or it will be Monday week. I’ve only just got my head in gear for this time zone. I’m not rushing it unless there’s a good reason. The team is running a solid investigation, and there is still lots more to do before anyone suggests sticking it back in a cupboard. A missing body, apart from anything else. They’ve only been at it for two minutes. With all due respect, I would suggest that you congratulate Trump this evening and tell him to keep up the good work. But I’m keeping you from your dinner. I’ll look forward to receiving your email tomorrow. Bon appétit, sir.”

As Meredith hung up, he heard Ashworth call his name.

“That was quite rude, Meredith. What do you think the new case is?”

“I don’t know, and as long as Burt and his spooks have no input, I don’t care. Why didn’t he just say, I know Patsy has been unwell, but I have this case, so any chance you could turn in on Monday? Bloody man.”

“Will we? I’d like to.” Patsy sat next to him. “Perhaps we should let Louie carry on running the Hawker case, and we reopen the next one. It’s been a long time since we’ve done that, and I doubt Burt is involved.”

Burt was a government agent, who had twice become involved in previous cases worked by Meredith and his team, and it was Burt who had made it impossible for Meredith to refuse to take on the case which resulted in the attack on Patsy.

“You never know, he’s a sneaky bastard. I’m saying nothing until I know what it is, and anyway, we now work every case together.”

“Not really. You supervise and then interfere because we have so much going on. But if nothing else, at least Maxine has given me the all-clear.”

Meredith glanced at her, and saying nothing, opened his emails. He found the one from Ashworth and scanned it quickly.

“Not really, she didn’t. She gave provisos. Look.” Meredith twisted the laptop so Patsy could read it. “She says you feel you are able to return to work, and you are suggesting it would actually help and not hinder you. What she says is, you must continue your sessions and that they should be a minimum of once a week. You’d better ring her before she gets tied up because if you want to go back on Monday, I want the first one booked before you are dragged into anything.”

“That was a lot of words you needed to emphasise. But I will. You’ve been a very good boy, your inbox looks under control.” Patsy tapped the screen. “Well done, Johnny.”

“Thank you. It’s easier to delete them when I haven’t more important things to do.”

“Who’s Emily?”

Meredith drew in a breath and his eyes searched the list as he snapped the lid down. “Don’t know, not looking. I’m on holiday and you have a phone call to make.”

Patsy rolled her eyes, and collecting her phone, went to sit on the bed. As soon as she began speaking, Meredith opened his emails on his phone.

Hello Meredith,

Not sure where you are, or who you’re with and don’t want to complicate your life more than it already is, so I took the email option. Didn’t want to leave a message. I’m good like that. I’m also very polite and wouldn’t want to disappear without a word! So here I am. (Sarcasm is so liberating.)

I hear on the grapevine, also known as Julia, that you got on a plane! Impressed. I wish you luck. I’m sure you will work your charm and make sure you get what you want. What you both want, I think. I’m intrigued about the baby, no doubt I’ll find out from Julia in the fullness of time how that worked out. I hope you get them back. Weird, but I really mean that.

It would have been nice to hear all this from you, but I know you had a plane to catch. So, I’ll say goodbye, Meredith. I’m leaving Bristol today. They’re putting me up in a posh hotel until I find somewhere to rent, so I can supervise the office setup. We won’t bump into each other, so you won’t be looking over your shoulder if you return.

That’s all I wanted to say. Thank you for entertaining me. It was bloody marvellous. Good luck, and goodbye.

All my love always, (even if I find number 3),

Em x x x

Meredith tapped out a quick response.

I’m sorry.

Yes, I had a plane to catch, but no excuses I should have called. Sorry seems inadequate, but I am. For everything.

I have Patsy, there is no baby. Long story.

It was bloody marvellous, Em. I will always love you, too. It seems we just weren’t meant to be.

I hope Exeter is hiding number three, and he’s up to scratch, and the lucky man can meet your demands.

Good luck and take care, Em.

Meredith.

Meredith deleted the original email, deleted his reply, and emptied his trash. Falling back against the sofa, he closed his eyes and eavesdropped on the end of Patsy’s conversation.

“Thank you, Maxine. I’ll see you then … Yes. I’ll tell you that when I see you … Yes. Other than the fact I have to sit next to Meredith on a very long flight, I can’t wait to get home … The worst … Okay … ’Bye.”

Meredith wondered what Patsy couldn’t say in front of him, but given he’d just deleted emails from a recent lover, he wouldn’t question it. At least Patsy had made the appointment. He jumped when Patsy straddled him.

“Have you gone back to sleep?” she accused.

Meredith opened an eye. “With you jumping all over me. Hardly. We could go back to bed, though.”

“Was the correct answer. I—”

Lizzy burst into the room and stood with her hands on her hips. Someone was bounding up the stairs behind her. “Aunty Patsy, Mummy told me you’re going home. When? I thought you lived here now. When will you be back?”

Patsy turned to look at her and smiled. “I am. I have a very important job, and the boss said I had to go back. But that means I’ll earn some money and can come back to visit you. I might come at Christmas if Meredith agrees. I’ve never had a sunny Christmas before. Have you, Meredith?”

“I haven’t. Hello, Joseph. Have you come to tell us off, too?” Meredith grimaced as Joseph flew into the room and leapt onto the sofa next to them.

“Nope. I want to come with you.” He stood next to Meredith and put a hand on his shoulder. “I’ve never been on a plane, I’ve never been to England, and I’ve never even seen my grandad. Can I come?”

“If he’s going, I want to go too. I was only little. Can I come too?” Lizzy demanded.

Patsy shook her head. “Not this time. We’ve both got to go back to work. Sorry, kids, no one to look after you. And although I know Lizzy is getting big now, and very grown up for her age, in England you have to be a teenager to be left alone, or you’re breaking the law. And as Meredith is a policeman, he’d have no choice but to arrest you, and then what would Grandad say? Let’s speak to your parents and see if we can’t work something out. Oh, your mum’s calling. You’ll be late for school. You’d better skedaddle, or she’ll agree to nothing.”

The two children exchanged glances and rushed back downstairs.

Meredith laughed and pulled Patsy closer. “We can do Christmas here, work permitting, of course,” Meredith said, and lifted his finger to silence her. “But before we discuss it, I thought we were going back to bed.”

“I’m not sleepy. I’m wide awake now,” Patsy replied with a smirk.

“I wasn’t talking about sleeping. God forbid I should ever catch up on sleep.” With only a minor grunt, Meredith managed to stand still holding Patsy and walked to the bedroom area. “Are those kids likely to come back, or should I lock the door?”

“I don’t know, it’s fifty-fifty. What I do know, Johnny, is that you are keeping your gym membership.”

Meredith dumped Patsy on the bed and grinned as she protested. “Not good enough odds, and I’ll consider it if you come too. With you snuggled up in bed, I won’t want to leave.” Meredith locked the door.

Three hours later, Meredith was lacing his trainers when his phone rang.

“Trump. What a surprise. Did you enjoy your dinner? Keep it short. My wife has been leading me astray and any form of considerate eating has gone out of the window. We were just about to leave for a run.”

“A run? Does the keep fit episode continue? I have to say, sir, I am surprised, but I should stop waffling and holding you up.”

“If you would. How was Uncle David?”

“Confusing, so I’ll just carry on as normal. It seems he’s lost the ability to speak in coherent sentences. But my light at the end of the tunnel was him telling me you’ll both be returning to work on Monday. Is that true?”

“Are you struggling, Trump? It doesn’t appear so from the file.”

“Not as such. But it would be nice to have you in between me and Uncle David. He’s suggested dinner again next week. I can’t do a once-a-week dinner, despite Linda being keen. It’s too much.”

“He’s up to something. There’s another case he wants us to take on. He said he didn’t think this one would go anywhere quickly, and he’d tell me more on Monday. Which, before you say anything, I’ve only said is a possibility. I told him to email me the headlines, and I’d think about it. Did he mention any of that to you?”

“Not a dicky bird, sir.”

“Yep. Up to something. I said as much to Hodge. Well, much as I know I’m indispensable, I warn you, if it has anything to do with Burt, I’ll be claiming my pension faster than Patsy can raise an argument.”

“Agreed. I’m not quite due mine, but I’ll be the one in the queue behind you. Makes me want to spit at the thought of it. Our girls were put into an unacceptable position due to his involvement, and I won’t risk it again. They can use their own operatives. How is Patsy, by the way? Linda says she was very chipper and raring to get back to work.”

“So I understand.”

“Ah, I take it you can’t talk.”

“Not yet, no. Trump, get everyone else on your list spoken to pronto. I don’t like phone interviews but do them if necessary. We can always do a face to face later. Leave Hawker alone until I get back, other than to speak to whoever he was working for at the time, and then we’ll see what we’ve got, if nothing obvious comes up beforehand. Now there’s a beach with my name on it. Speak later.”

“A beach? Don’t answer that, and I’m off to bed in a moment. But speak soon. Good to have you back, DCI Meredith. Well, almost. Goodnight.”

Meredith hung up and looked at Patsy. “Are you ready?”

“I am. Sounds like we’re needed,” Patsy replied, as she led the way out.

“Hmm. I don’t like it, Hodge. He’d better send that email, or I’m going nowhere.” Meredith looked at Patsy who had snorted. “Am I amusing you?”

“Not at all. But you’re calling me Hodge again. I like it.” Patsy winked, before jogging down the hill towards the beach.

Chapter Nineteen

Meredith handed Seaton the duty-free bags. “Seaton, I owe you big time but this is all they would allow us to bring home. There’s something for all of you. As soon as we can stay awake long enough, we’ll take the whole family out for a meal. I’ve transferred the money for the petrol and the fine. But now I need my bed.”

“Yes, I can understand that. Well, you have two days to recover. I’ll see you Monday. Cheers for these.” Seaton held up the bags and smiled at Patsy. “So glad you’re back.”

“Me too. 'Bye, Tom.” With a wave, Patsy followed Meredith up the path, and he heaved her suitcase into the hall.

“You really didn’t think you were coming home, did you? I think I’ve put my back out,” he complained, as he rolled it next to the telephone table. The light on the answer machine was flashing. Telling him there were three messages. He ignored it. “Bed?”

“Yes. But first I just want to look around. Oh, Johnny, it’s so good to be home.” Patsy wandered into the kitchen and Meredith followed her.

“Can you not reacquaint tomorrow? I should warn you, the bed might not be made. I left in a hurry.”

“It’s made. I begged a favour from Peggy. Come on, Grumpy, let’s go.” Patsy pushed him back into the hall. “Oh, look, there are messages.”

“Leave them. We won’t deal with them now, whatever they are. And the suitcase can wait until tomorrow, or next week or some other time, too.” Meredith put his foot on the first stair and sighed as Patsy hit the button. Emily had said she hadn’t left a message, but he still held his breath.

You have three messages. Message one.

“Hello, it’s me. I don’t know why you sounded so happy, but I’m pleased with whatever is making you smile. I—”

Patsy hit the delete button and smiled at him. “That must have been to tell me you were getting on a plane. Seems an age ago.”

“It does. It also feels like a week since we’ve slept, can we—”

Message two.

“John, it’s me. I’ve been trying to get hold of you but your mobile goes to answer phone. I’ve been trying for two days. Call me please. It’s Julia, by the way.”

Message three.

“I’m back. I’ve spoken to Amanda, and I understand you’re on a plane…

Meredith closed his eyes, breathed a sigh of relief, and started up the stairs. None of them were Emily. As he reached the top, he froze momentarily before heading for the bathroom. His hand shook a little as he unbuttoned his shirt.

“…anyway, call me when you get back, and hopefully I’ll speak to Patsy. You are so brave. Have to say, I still can’t believe it. I was calling because Emily has taken a job in Exeter, and I’m coming to Bristol tomorrow to help her load up and what have you, I was going to invite you to join us for dinner, but you have far more important plans. I hope when you listen to this Patsy is at home. Love you both. Julia. Oh. You know that. 'Bye.”

Meredith splashed water over his face and listened to Patsy climb the stairs as he squeezed toothpaste on the brush. Patsy went into the bedroom, appearing minutes later.

“I feel grubby. I think I’m going to shower first. Clean sheets and all that.”

“Very admirable. I’m going to fall asleep standing up, so I won’t join you. I’ll see you in there.” Taking her face between his hands, he kissed her gently. “I love you, Hodge. I’ll try to stay awake.”

She smiled at him, and he pulled her into a hug, not willing to look her in the eye.

“Don’t worry,” she said into his chest. “I won’t be long.”

When she came into the bedroom, Meredith wondered if she’d ask about Emily. She wasn’t stupid, and would have made the connection, but would she say anything? He feigned sleep, unwilling to have that conversation now. Patsy climbed into the bed and snuggled into his back.

“Go to sleep, Meredith.” She kissed him between his shoulder blades. “I’m not going to ask because I don’t want to know. I want to get on with our future. Everything that’s happened since Deacon took me is done. Over. Other than having to see Maxine, I never want to speak about it again. Can we do that?”

“I thought you told me to go to sleep? You’re asking me questions.” Meredith turned round and pulled her into a hug.

“My mistake. Can we move on, Meredith? I’m home. You’re home. I need you to tell me it’s over, that there’s just us.”

“We can and there is. Can we sleep now?”

“I think we should, we have lots to do tomorrow.”

Meredith groaned. “Should I ask?”

“I’ve made a mental list. It includes gardening, the gym, the twins, oh and Peggy, I almost forgot Peggy, and catching up on what’s happening with the case. There are a few other bits, but I might forget them by the morning.”

“Stop talking or I might get back on that plane. Goodnight, Hodge.”

“Oh, that was the other thing. As you’re now a frequent flyer, I thought we could book a holiday. A proper one. But we’ll talk about it tomorrow. 'Night, Meredith.”

***

Meredith smiled his thanks as Linda placed his coffee and a large piece of cake on the corner of his desk. “Thanks. Give me five minutes and we’ll kick off.”

Over the weekend, which mainly included sleeping and seeing the twins, Patsy and Meredith had visited the team individually because Patsy didn’t want greetings and questions to impede them from getting on with the case. It seemed to have worked. As each of the team arrived, they nodded a greeting, and grumbled about the traffic and or weather, just as they had before Patsy was attacked.

Meredith took a large bite of the cake, washed it down with a swig of coffee and walked to stand next to the whiteboard.

“Okay, listen up. Over the weekend, Patsy and I caught up on the latest interviews. I’m sure you’ll agree that the extended family and friends provided nothing new for us to work with. Gina Carter is the only one still outstanding, but she’ll be back from her holiday now. Will, I want you to speak to her today. I doubt it will be any different to what the others had to say, but it’s a box that requires ticking. The rest of us are going to work on the white van element. Not one of our four white van drivers has yet provided evidence of their whereabouts on the morning of the abductions. Yes, Seaton?”

“Tim Arnold’s statements have arrived. Do you want me to get him in today if he’s around?”

Meredith’s lips twitched. “Still asking stupid questions, Seaton? Yes, if he’s not around, go to him. Then when he’s worked out where he was, you’ll follow it up as best you can.”

“Will do. But, and I know this is stating the bleeding obvious, so you would, of course, have considered it, it’s a long shot that anyone will remember a specific day that long ago. With those nearest and dearest to the Hawkers, there’s a reason to remember it, but for those around them, not so much.”

“Stupid questions, and stating the bleeding obvious. Have we stopped doing proper investigations in my absence? Are you suggesting we don’t try to confirm their alibis?”

“No, I was—” Seaton rolled his eyes as Meredith interrupted.

“Good. Get on with it.”

“Trump and Hodge, you take Debbie Norris, and Carly Hemming’s mother, Sonia. Softly, softly, but I want the seed of doubt planted. Hodge?” Meredith raised his eyebrows at Patsy, who was holding up her pen.

“Seed of doubt as in you want them to think we suspect Ronnie or Carly of doing this?” Patsy asked.

“We do, don’t we? At the moment that’s all we’ve got. Short of the alien abduction Clark mentioned, we have to assume the driver of the white van got the Hawkers to leave what they were doing with no fuss. Before you say it, George, because I know you love contradicting me, I know we haven’t got a white van anywhere near Mike Hawker but that doesn’t mean there wasn’t one. So, working with what we do know, and enhancing it a little for George, our suspects are: Barry Hawker, Tim Arnold, Ronnie Norris and Carly Hemmings. All of them are suspects, and until we prove differently that will remain the case. I’m going to speak to Glenys Hawker.”

“What about the suspects themselves?” Linda asked. “I know Tom is going to speak to Tim Arnold but what about the others?”

“Tim Arnold was the only one who agreed for us to do what it took to find out where he was. Barry Hawker and Ronnie Norris have yet to provide even a smidgeon of help in that direction. This might concentrate their minds. As to Carly Hemmings, she claims she was in bed or collecting stock but can’t remember. Once we see what her mother has to say, and Tom finds out where Arnold was, we might find out. At the moment, she’s at the bottom of my list because despite all her surgical enhancements I don’t think strength was one of them.”

“Why is she bottom of the list, Skipper? That seems a little sexist.” Linda grinned at him.

“I’m offended, Loopy. Let’s assume she picked up Christine and then overpowered her in some way. Then she waits for Mike to arrive at work, calls to him on some pretext, and he gets into her van. How did she then keep hold of him? She could have drugged him, or both of them. She could have knocked him senseless and then killed him. But then she had two bodies to dispose of. Digging a grave is not easy. Lugging dead bodies in and out of vans, white or otherwise, is not easy, so unless she had an accomplice, in which case, who, she remains at the bottom of my list.”

Meredith turned to look at Patsy. “This is why I don’t take holidays. I take a few days off and everyone thinks they can question my judgement.” Meredith turned his attention to the team. “Any sensible questions? No? Then let’s get on with it. Actually, before you disperse, what’s the latest on the Brandon Farm case? All put to bed?”

Meredith was referring to the case the team worked while Patsy was on leave. It dealt with the murder of two young women who had gone to live on Brandon Farm. The matriarch at the farm had killed the two women and frightened her son into covering it up. A third woman was about to go the same way when the team caught up with them.

“Oh yes, you won’t have heard. Mark’s solicitor called, Charlie Brandon gave a statement saying it was Cissy who pushed him out of the hayloft, and he had no doubt she had coerced Mark into covering up the murders. Said Mark didn’t have the brains or the bottle to do them. As Mark was pleading guilty to disposing of a dead body, the case is being heard next week. Susan Beddow is still around. She didn’t leave him and the boy,” Seaton told him. “Will was going to go to court to represent us. That okay with you?”

“It is. I’m glad she didn’t disappear. Right then, get on with it.”

Meredith returned to his desk as the team set about their tasks, and he watched Patsy drop her phone into her bag and pull her jacket from the chair. It was as if the last seven months hadn’t happened. He had given her the women to deal with intentionally. Trump would give him an honest appraisal of her performance. Trump waved his hand in front of Meredith’s face.

“Would that be okay, sir?” he asked.

“Would what be okay? Sorry, Trump, I was miles away.”

Trump nodded. “May I have a word before we go out?” He glanced around the office. “In private.”

Meredith got to his feet with a sigh. “You may, Although I don’t like the sound of that. Not been back two hours and already having private words. Come on.”

Meredith led the way to the carpark and lit a cigarette.

“Still smoking, I see. I thought Patsy would have put a stop to that.” Trump wafted his hand as Meredith puffed out his first plume of smoke.

“She’s working on it. Spit it out, Trump.”

“I didn’t want to ask before, you had enough going on, but what did he say?”

Meredith knew immediately what Trump meant but pulled a frown. “What did who say?”

“Uncle David. You said you’d only be back today if he sent you headlines on whatever he wanted to speak to you about. On that note, what time’s he due? I might make myself scarce.”

“Oh yes. He just said today. I’ve got no names, but it’s a probable murder here in Bristol ten years ago. Cause of death was drowning. But the bump on the back of the head and debris under the fingernails raised the question: did she fall or was she pushed? Coroner recorded an open verdict. Original team got nowhere, the case was shelved but remains open. Looks like we’re getting it.”

Trump shrugged. “Why? I don’t mean why are we getting the case, I mean why does he need to speak to you about it.”

“Ah, because it’s delicate. The victim was a police officer.”

“Corina James or Jones? That one?”

“You know about it? What do you know?”

“Nothing. But it happened shortly after I arrived. You must remember it. It was all over everything. She had only been in the force a few months.”

“I do. I’m surprised you do, though.”

“Just one of those cases that stuck with me. She was a pretty young thing. Wasn’t her brother an officer too?”

“He was.” Meredith took a deep drag on his cigarette. “Go on. Ask the question.”

“Why us, and why is it more delicate than any other case, because she was an officer?”

“No. Because someone has suggested the reason it wasn’t solved was because one of the investigating team did the pushing.”

“What? And Uncle David thinks you’re the man delicate enough to handle that?” Trump grinned. “Oh, here’s Patsy. I’ll get all the other info later.”

“You now know as much as I do.” Meredith held his cigarette behind his back. “Enjoy, Hodge. Good to have you back.”

Patsy shook her head. “Put that cigarette out now. I don’t want to row with the boss on the first day.” She walked across to them. “What’s happened that you’re having a meeting that required a smoke?”

“Trump was trying to find out why the super needed to drag us back in.”

“Did you tell him?” When Meredith nodded, Patsy looked at Trump. “It’s going to be an interesting one.”

“It certainly is when DCI Meredith is chosen for a delicate case. I didn’t think Uncle David liked dealing with complaints. I’ll drive, the car’s over there, pop your things in the boot,” Trump aimed the remote at his car and the boot popped open. As Patsy headed for it, he leaned closer to Meredith, and said quietly, “You have nothing to worry about, sir. Patsy is back, and anyway, I’ll look after her. You can always check, you know.” Trump patted his tiepin.

Meredith merely nodded and took the last drag on his cigarette before heading back inside.

Back in the office, he went to Linda’s desk. “Have we got Christine Hawker’s phone records handy? If so, I want to know what calls and or messages were sent from the Sunday before she disappeared up to the day before. No rush, finish what you’re doing.”

“Give me half an hour, Skipper. Can I ask why?”

“Yep. Because Lottie said that her birthday cards were on the shelf when her dad was trying to wrestle her mother’s phone out of her hand. Lottie’s birthday was the Sunday, they disappeared on the Wednesday. Might be nothing, as it seemed very light-hearted, but be interesting to know. George, you look like you have something to say.”

“Only to ask what you want me to do?”

“I want you to phone Norris and Hawker and get them in here this afternoon, stagger them. If they ask why, tell them it’s about their alibi. That might concentrate their minds.”

“Will do. You know Hawker has put in a complaint about the way we’ve treated him, don’t you?” George asked.

“I do. I wasn’t here. It’ll give me the opportunity to apologise.”

George grinned. “Before he complains about you, you mean?”

“Exactly.”

Chapter Twenty

“Do you mind if I lead?” Patsy asked, as she and Trump parked the car. “I’m a bit out of practice.”

“Of course. Oh, that’s handy. Mr Norris is leaving. Let’s hope she’s in.”

Debbie Norris frowned as she looked at Trump’s ID. “But Ronnie has just gone to see you lot. Don’t you talk to each other?”

“It was you we wanted to speak to. May we come in?” Patsy smiled, and stepped forward, causing Debbie to step back.

“Have I got a choice? On your right.” Her visitors had refused drinks, so Debbie sat herself in the chair by the window. “Fire away. There’s no more I can tell you, but I’ll do my best.”

“This shouldn’t take too long. I’ll just get the recorder going.” Patsy clicked the button and set the recorder on the table. “Would you talk me through what happened on the day Mike and Christine went missing?”

“I didn’t find out until eight in the evening. They’d been gone almost twelve hours by then.”

“Yes, I know. But what happened here that day? What time did you get up? What time did Mr Norris leave for work? Did you have lunch at home, or did you go out? Did anything unusual happen? Just start with getting up.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m asking you, I’m sure you have nothing to hide. Just give me the headlines, I’ll ask questions if I need more information,” Patsy replied.

“But why are you asking me?” Debbie Norris tried again.

“Because we’re checking something out. Do you have a reason for not wanting to answer? I know it must be hard, it being dragged up all over again, but it is important.”

“I’d ask checking what, but you won’t tell me, will you?” When Patsy merely smiled, Debbie huffed. “We got up, we had breakfast and—”

“What time did you get up?”

“I don’t know, half six, sevenish as usual, I’m sure. We had breakfast, Ron left for work, and I went up to get dressed.”

“What time did he leave for work?”

“Probably seven to half past, the same as always when he was delivering. Why?” Debbie shook her head, confused by the questions.

“Who was he delivering for that day, do you know?”

“No. Would have been Amazon, or Punctual Parcels, they deal with local businesses who don’t want to use the Post Office. I don’t know why you’re asking me all this.”

“Okay, did he come home for lunch?”

“Um, no. Not that day, because I went into town to do some shopping and I wasn’t sure I’d be back. He said he’d grab a sandwich while he was out.”

“What time did you get back?” Patsy asked.

“About one. I put some washing on and watched a film. I was asleep in front of the telly when he got home. Why are my very boring activities important?”

“Did you meet anyone when you were out?”

“No. Not that I remember. Look, I’m getting shirty now. You tell me why you want to know this, and I’ll try to help you. It had better not be because you think me and Ron had anything to do with it. They tried that last week. Ron didn’t take them. Yes, he drives a white van, but so do hundreds of people. Why would he?”

“I don’t know. What I know is that he was asked to provide details of where he was, who he was working for, what time he started, and he hasn’t. So we need to find out. The same person who killed Mike probably killed your daughter. It’s likely that person drove a white van and was known to both of them, as both seemed to have gone with whoever it was without a fuss. Ronnie drove a white van. Ronnie knew both. We currently have four people in that situation, and the same questions will be asked of the others too, and their answers verified.

“I know it’s difficult to believe that someone you know could have done this, but we think it had to be someone familiar. Therefore, we won’t stop asking questions until we know without a doubt that those four people couldn’t possibly have done it.” Patsy smiled, and was about to ask the next question, when Debbie waved her finger at her.

“Ah. So you only believe it. You’ll upset everyone close to them, and then decide it wasn’t anyone who knew them, and then close the case again. How can you prove anything this long after? You tell me that.”

Patsy nodded. “Our team is the best in the country. Since established, we’ve solved all the cases we’ve investigated. Some of them were much older than this one. I can’t tell you how we’ll do it, only that I believe we will. It can be long and tedious and frustrating, but we keep going because we believe the victims deserve justice. I’m guessing you do, too.”

Debbie placed her hand on her chest. “Of course I do. How can you ask that?”

“Because you seem as reluctant as your husband to answer our questions in any detail. Is that because you can keep your hand on your heart and swear it wasn’t him, or because you simply can’t believe it?”

Debbie’s hand fell into her lap, and she looked at it as she flexed her fingers. “Obviously the latter. Once he leaves the house, I don’t know where he goes unless he tells me. I don’t check up on him. I have no need to.”

“But you can understand why we do have that need. We need to eliminate him. Look at it that way. We need you to help us eliminate him as a suspect.”

“I can’t, can I? But if he was working for Amazon, they should be able to. They scan all their stuff out to the drivers, and the drivers have to scan once they’ve delivered them.” Debbie smiled, it was a false smile which didn’t reach her eyes. “There. I’ve helped you.”

“And Punctual Parcels? Do they scan too?” Patsy asked.

“Nope. They had log sheets. Ronnie had to log the time each parcel was delivered and obtain a signature from the customer. He always said he didn’t see the point. Most of them were just scribbled and wouldn’t stand up in court.”

“Now we’re getting somewhere. Thank you. Let’s move on. Tell me about Charlotte’s birthday party. I understand that was the Sunday before Mike and Christine went missing.”

“Tell you what?”

“Who was there? How did it go? Was there any trouble?”

“It went the same as they all did. Presents, party games, tea and birthday cake. There were about eight kids and a dozen adults.”

“Do you remember what adults?” Patsy asked.

“Mike and Christine, me and Ron, Mike’s parents, Simon and Abi Clark, and some of the other kids’ parents, I recognised some but don’t know who they were. Oh wait, yes I do. The neighbour from across the way, although I’ve forgotten her name.”

“Would that be Jilly Field?” Trump suggested.

“It would. You’re right. Think her husband was there too. He’s not always. He worked shifts, I think she said.” Debbie nodded. “I’ve not seen her since that day.”

“And there was nothing that caught your attention?”

“Nothing unusual. Is there a reason you’re asking that? Has someone said something happened? If it’s what I think you’re talking about, that was standard.” Debbie was frowning.

“What was?”

“Lottie asked if she could have a sleepover the next weekend because Ron has an aviary and a clutch of the eggs had hatched. She wanted to name them. Mike said he didn’t see why not. Christine said no. Promised Lottie that Mike would pop in with her to see them the next weekend. Christine had never been in our house, do you know that? Not even into the garden to push a card through the door.”

“That’s sad. I understand Christine held a grudge against you and Ronnie because you got together while her father was still alive. Was there any other reason we should know about?” Patsy asked.

“No! That’s it, I’ve had enough, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.” Debbie got to her feet and pointed at the door.

Patsy’s eyebrows were raised as she shook her head and remained seated. “That rather suggests there was. I’d rather you just told us. It’s best we don’t have to ask other family and friends what it might be.”

“Nothing. That’s what it was. It was Christine causing a fuss about nothing, like she always did. I was in the house at the time!”

“What happened?” Patsy asked, keeping her voice low.

Debbie dropped back into her chair. “Nothing happened. Christine was taking a shower, Ron had come in from work and was going to our bedroom to change. Christine came out of the bathroom as Ron passed and she screamed blue murder, calling him all sorts of names.”

“Was she naked?” Patsy asked.

“No, not really. She had a towel around her. He didn’t even know she was in there, he’d only been in two minutes, and I was downstairs cooking the tea. Christine liked to make life difficult. That’s just one of many examples. But I’m saying no more because you’ll make it into something it’s not.”

“Okay. We’ll leave it there. But what happened when Christine said no at the party? Something must have, or you wouldn’t have mentioned it,” Patsy answered.

“Nothing. I thought that’s what you were after.” Debbie folded her arms across her chest.

“You also assumed that someone else had told us about it. Why would anyone else have noticed?”

Debbie was back on her feet, and she shook her head. “No. We’re done here. You can leave now. You get back out there and find out what happened to my daughter, instead of sitting in here trying to make problems where there were none.”

Patsy nodded and, with a glance at Trump, got to her feet. “I’m sorry, Mrs Norris, I didn’t intend to upset or insult you, but I promise you I do intend to find out what happened to Christine. This is part of the process, however unpalatable it may be. All I would ask of you now is to think back to that day and the period before and after their disappearance and think about anything that happened that seemed odd. Was anyone acting differently? That sort of thing.”

“When you say anyone, you mean Ron, don’t you?” Debbie asked.

“Not exclusively, but yes, mainly I do. I’m sorry.” Patsy gave a nod and headed for the door.

“She’s not lost her touch, Meredith. What made her take that route, do you think?” George asked as Meredith stopped the recording.

“No idea. But I’m looking forward to speaking to Mr Norris. Glad he insisted on coming in straight away. What room is he in?”

“Room nine,” Linda called. “I told you just now. You were too engrossed in that. Patsy did well, didn’t she?”

“She did. I expected no less. Do you want to sit in, George? You’re hovering.” Meredith smiled.

Patsy had done well, but it seemed to Meredith that she had been more direct, maybe even more aggressive than she would normally have been, and it certainly wasn’t the softly, softly approach he’d suggested. He just hoped she didn’t do it like that because she thought she had to prove herself.

“I was waiting for you to bellow an order. But yes, I will.”

Ronnie Norris looked up as Meredith and George entered the interview room.

“Who are you two? I haven’t seen you before.”

“I’m DCI Meredith and this is Sergeant Davies. Thanks for coming in so promptly. We’ll be recording this.” Meredith hit the record button. “Did you bring it with you?

“Oh, a DCI. Should I be flattered? And bring what?” Norris asked.

“Evidence of where you were on the morning your stepdaughter and her husband went missing.”

“No. I couldn’t find anything. I told the other bloke it was a long shot. Is that what you’ve dragged me in here for? You should have said on the phone it would have saved us all a lot of bother.”

“Not to worry. We’ll speak to Amazon and Punctual Parcels. We’ve checked, they keep records. Might take a while to dig out, but we’ll get there.” Meredith smiled at Norris and leaned back in his chair as Norris’s brow furrowed. “Tell us about the fuss at the birthday party.”

“What birthday party? I’m sorry, I don’t know what you mean.”

“Lottie’s birthday. I understand there was trouble over Lottie not being allowed to sleep over at yours and see the baby birds. Or was there some other sort of trouble I don’t know about?”

“Oh that. Who told you about that? Glenys?”

“It wasn’t, actually. Why would Glenys have something to say about it?” Meredith asked.

“Glenys has something to say about most things. I tend to ignore her, too. It’s shameful the way she treats Debbie.” Norris tutted and shook his head.

“Yes, I got that from the previous interviews. Was there anything specific she would have had to say about the sleepover?”

“Same as always. We had an exchange of words when I left. It was nothing, although Christine had her say, as she always did.”

“Would you like to tell me about it?” Meredith asked.

Norris jutted out his bottom lip and shook his head. “Nope. Nothing to do with why I’m here.”

Meredith let it pass. He’d come back to Norris depending on what Glenys Hawker had to say. He looked at George. “What else did we have to cover off, George? The firming up of his alibi, the trouble at the birthday party, and there was something else.” Meredith clicked his fingers and screwed his eyes shut as though trying to remember.

“Inappropriate behaviour,” George announced, and inclined his head as he looked Norris in the eye. “How inappropriate was your behaviour towards the young Christine who had not long lost her father?”

Norris screwed his nose up. “It wasn’t ever. You’ve been talking to Kelvin West, haven’t you? Christine made up a load of crap about me because I told her mother she needed to keep an eye on them. You know what teenagers are like. Give ’em half a chance and they’ll be at it like rabbits. I didn’t want to have to deal with a teenage pregnancy, and then a baby. And who could blame me? Debbie put her on the pill. Crisis averted. She moved out within the year, thank God. That cost me too. She was glad enough to spend our money. Look, I didn’t like Christine. Not from the off. She treated her mother like dirt and me even worse. She didn’t improve with age. But I didn’t take her. And even if you think I had something to do with her disappearance, why would I take Mike as well? He was a decent bloke.” Norris scratched his bald head. “Can I go?”

“So nothing happened, Christine made it all up. Is that what you’re telling us?” George asked.

“Yes. It is. Am I under arrest? Because if not, I reckon I can leave.”

Meredith shook his head. “Not yet, and yes, you can.”

“What does that mean, not yet? Why would you think I did it? Because of the lies she told about me when she didn’t have all of her mother’s attention? That was years ago.”

“You see that’s what we don’t know. We don’t know where you were that morning, and you’re not helping us find out, and we don’t know if Christine was lying. She’s not here to tell us, one way or another. I think we’re done for now, Mr Norris.”

Norris got to his feet. “About time, too. If you want to see me again, I want a solicitor. I’ve seen it on the telly. You can’t keep making me come in here, making accusations you can’t prove without me having legal representation.”

“I’ll bear that in mind. This way.” Meredith showed him out.

George was waiting at the bottom of the stairs for him. “Do you reckon he did anything inappropriate?” George asked, as they headed back to their office.

“Don’t know. Reckon it’s fifty-fifty. No smoke without fire, and she sounds like she was a handful. But most everyone else has said she was lovely, if a straight talker. Why hadn’t she grown out of it, but on the other hand, if he had been, why allow him anywhere near her? I’m going to grab a recorder and head over to see Glenys Hawker. You can track down Kelvin West.” As he entered the office, Linda jumped to her feet.

“Oh, Skipper, I was going to interrupt you. Uncle Dav…I mean the super called. He’s run into a problem, so had to go somewhere else. Said he’d be in the car for thirty minutes, so you have ten minutes to call him.”

“No can do, Loopy. I’m already late for my next appointment. Call him back and tell him you missed me and ask if you can take a message.” Meredith pulled his jacket from the back of the chair and collected a recorder. “Where’s Seaton?”

“He’s seen Tim Arnold and is now following up on whatever the outcome was. He didn’t go into details because it’s all recorded. You can watch later. But that’s not important. Don’t you want to know what Uncle David wants? You can call him on the way,” Linda argued.

“You mean you want to know. I already do. It’ll wait. You never know, if you call him back he might tell you.” Meredith winked and headed for the door.

“We both know that won’t happen. Aren’t you going to tell us? Is it about a new case?”

“I would, but I haven’t got the information yet. What time is Barry Hawker due in?” Meredith asked George.

“He said when he gets here. He had a doctor’s appointment and said they were always running late. By lunchtime, he reckoned,” George replied.

“Okay, that’s good. I won’t have to show him the door in his own house. George, pass the search for West onto the girls and see how the other interviews are going. You can brief me if I don’t have time and can sit in on Hawker’s interview to make sure I don’t miss anything that may come up.”

“Will do. Good to have you back, Meredith. I don’t feel like a spare part now.”

Meredith saluted and left as Linda tried to assure George that no one thought that. George brushed her protestations aside and opened Will Kent’s interview with Christine’s friend Gina Carter as Will walked back into the office.

“What’s going on?” Will asked.

“I’ll tell you in a minute. Have a seat. You can see how you did.” George patted the chair. “Linda, before I forget, can you two look for a Kelvin West? No other details, but he was a boyfriend of Christine's when she was still living at home. So I’m guessing he’ll be in his mid-forties.”

Chapter Twenty-One

Gina Carter opened her front door and yawned. Wearing pink striped pyjamas and a blue dressing gown, her hair was flat on one side, and she fluffed it with her fingers before covering her mouth with her hand.

“Sorry about that and excuse the state of me. Jet-lagged.. We had a delay. I’m never flying back into Gatwick again. Come on in, mind the suitcases, they haven’t made it upstairs yet. Keep going. Straight through to the kitchen, I need caffeine. It’s all ready.”

Once in the kitchen, Gina poured two mugs of coffee and joined Kent at the kitchen table.

“So, I know this is about Christine and that you’ve reopened the case. The guys at work told me you’d been in touch. I’m not sure how I can help. I knew nothing then, and I certainly don’t now.”

“Tell me about Christine. Not the rose-tinted stuff. The normal stuff. Was she bossy, was she any good at her job? Was she mean, or was she generous? We’re trying to get a feel for her personality. We were told you two were close.”

Gina sighed. “We were I suppose. We didn’t socialise that much. I was young, single and out clubbing at every opportunity, and she was married with kids, but she trained me up when I joined the company, and we clicked. She was brilliant at her job, and she was really family-orientated. I didn’t have a close family, didn’t have much of one at all. My mother was too miserable for anyone to want to bother. Chris used to invite me around to her family stuff. I went sometimes, it was fun. How are the kids doing? They were so cute.”

“They’re doing okay. Charlotte works now, and Oscar is in college. I think they’re shellshocked at the moment. Oscar, in particular, only has vague memories of his parents, and it makes him feel guilty. Finding whoever was responsible will help them.”

“Poor souls. She lived for those kids.” Gina sipped her coffee. “Such a shame.”

“Did Christine ever confide in you? You know, normal stuff. What was getting on her nerves, anything she had to keep quiet about?” Kent asked.

“Not really. Don’t think Chris had any secrets. She was Mrs two point four kids. Don’t get me wrong, she wasn’t boring, far from it. She was a laugh, but unlike my colourful life, she didn’t have any dramas. Not that I knew of, anyway. Her husband was gorgeous. We used to joke that she’d clone him for me.” Gina pointed at Kent. “That was something exciting for a couple of months. Mike had a secret brother. She didn’t say much about it, only that she hoped Mike would keep in touch with him. Chris thought he was a nice bloke, although I don’t think she got on with his girlfriend. Said she was too needy. I think she hoped Mike would convince the family to accept him.” Gina frowned before shaking her head. “I don’t know what happened about that.”

“Did she ever speak to the family about it, do you know?” Kent asked.

“Don’t know. She said she could have a quiet word but wouldn’t cause a fuss because it was up to Mike, not her.”

“Surely it would have been up to his dad, not Mike?”

Gina shrugged. “I suppose, perhaps she meant up to Mike to convince his dad.”

“Was she happy in her marriage? Did she ever mention any troubles? Money, infidelity, anything like that?”

Gina laughed. “It’s so obvious you never met them. They were made for each other. No way would either of them muck the other one about. He picked her up from work one night because they were going out somewhere. He got out of the car, gave her a kiss that would make you go weak at the knees, and then opened the door of the car for her. What man does that now? I was so jealous. Did I mention he was gorgeous? Didn’t even matter he was nearly ginger.”

Kent grinned. “I think you did. If he was so appealing, do you think he might have been tempted? Did Chris ever mention anything like that?”

“No, and I doubt it. Chris was a looker, too. I don’t fancy girls, though. Bottom line, is what would I know? You don’t wash your dirties in public, but as far as I knew they were happy. Very happy.”

Kent nodded acceptance. “What about money troubles? Were they sound financially?”

“I think so. As sound as any of us. Your wages hit the bank, and you decide what to do with the little that’s left over. Chris liked nice stuff, and she hit the credit card at Christmas, but she didn’t have loans that I know of. She thought I was mad for taking out a loan for my kitchen when I didn’t have enough wiggle room on my card. But you’d be able to find that out, wouldn’t you?” Gina collected the coffee pot. “Do you want a top up?”

“Not for me, thanks. We would if it was formal, but not if it was a loan shark.”

Gina laughed. “I didn’t know Mike well enough, but Christine wouldn’t have, and nor would Mike if she knew anything about it, and I think she would have mentioned that. I’m sorry but I know nothing bad about either of them. It’s why it was such a shock.”

“When was the last time you saw her?”

“On the Monday before. I was supposed to have a day off, but I came in for a couple of hours because the boss had a dental emergency.” Gina grinned and tapped her front two teeth. “He has a bridge here, and it was loose, so he couldn’t eat, and he was terrified it would fall out when he was dealing with a client. Saw little of her because we were in and out on appointments. I saw more of her on the Sunday. It was Lottie’s birthday.”

“And how was she on those two days?” Kent asked.

Gina’s shoulders reached her ears. “Normal. Rushed off her feet on both days. Although when I arrived at work on the Monday, she had a moan, but it was nothing. Just a moan.”

“Humour me. What about?”

“Family stuff. Actually, I started the conversation. I’d left the party early because I had a date, which was awful and I wished I’d stayed, so it was me that started the complaining. She still had time to listen to me, though. Told me to kick him into touch.”

“Okay, you complained about your date, she said get rid of him, so what was she moaning about?” Kent resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

“Oh yes, sorry. I warned you about the jet lag. As I was leaving, her stepdad grabbed her arm and said something in her ear. She yanked her arm away and nearly took his eye out as she jabbed her finger at him. It lasted seconds, but they both looked pissed off afterwards. So I asked her about it. Chris shrugged it off and said, ‘You can choose your friends but not your family, more’s the pity. Two days in a row.’, or something like that. I then asked what had happened before, and she said…” Gina tutted. “I’d forgotten that. The secret brother was definitely still around then. Or his girlfriend was. Chris had been out to buy last-minute bits for the party and bumped into his girlfriend, who gave her an earache about keeping secrets. It didn’t end well. Chris ended up telling her to get a life.”

“Interesting. Give me a second.” Kent sent a text to Linda and returned his attention to Gina, who was refilling her coffee mug again. He put his hand over his own mug. “Not for me. To summarise, to the best of your knowledge, Chris had no issues with Mike, they had no joint problems that you were aware of, although in the week leading up to her death, Chris had a run-in with both her stepdad and the new brother’s girlfriend.”

“Yes. But the run-ins weren’t bad. She wasn’t worried about them. I don’t want you to think that. It was a bit like me moaning about jet lag. Just an irritation, not the end of the world.”

“I get it. Was there anyone she really didn’t like? Someone she’d avoid, or grumble about a lot, as from the sound of it I don’t think she avoided trouble, just dealt with it head-on.” Kent’s eyebrows rose as Gina topped up her mug with the last of the coffee. “You’ll never sleep.”

“I don’t want to. If I can stay awake for the rest of the day, and get an early night I’ll be back to normal tomorrow. Chris liked everyone really, or I suppose, if she didn’t, she put up with them. She was never bitchy about anyone. I know she didn’t like her stepdad but everyone knew that. Don’t know why, she never said. And I know she didn’t like the husband of one of her neighbours. Called him an awkward bastard who enjoyed causing trouble. Something about blocking drives with bins and always whining about parking and delivery men. But that’s about it. Look, to be fair, we didn’t sit around gossiping, well I did, but not much and the grumbling was mainly from me. We just got on with stuff. Talked about the job, the weather, what was on the news, and that’s because neither of us had exciting lives.” Gina’s shoulders sagged. “I still don’t if I’m honest, and poor old Chris, well, she must be dead, mustn’t she?” She shook herself. “I hope you catch the bastard who did it.”

“Me too. Thanks for your time, Gina. I’ll leave you to unpack and get the washing on. Shall I put this in the sink?” Kent held up his mug.

“Ugh. I’d forgotten about the washing. No, leave it there. I’ll see you out.”

Linda waited until George had finished watching before speaking. “Before you get started on anything else, even though no one is speaking to Carly today, I texted everyone. Kent wanted whoever might be speaking to Carly Hemmings to know she’d had a row with Christine on the Saturday before.”

George patted his pockets, searching for his phone. “I didn’t see that. Now where’s my phone?”

Linda pointed to the windowsill. “Where you left it. On charge over there.”

“Oh yes. Don’t let me forget it. You’d better text about the not liking a neighbour’s husband, too. Now, let’s see how Patsy and Louie got on with Carly’s mother. How you doing on Kelvin West?”

Patsy looked at Trump and sniffed while they waited for someone to appear. “I love the smell of florist shops.”

Carly Hemmings appeared through the strips. “Good morning, how can I help you?”

Trump showed his ID. “We’d like a word with Mrs Hemmings, if she’s available.”

“What about?” Carly asked.

“I’ll explain that later when we speak to you. Is your mum around?” Patsy asked with a smile.

“You want to speak to both of us? Is this about the Hawkers again?”

“It is. Don’t worry, just some loose ends. Shouldn’t take long. So, is she here?” Trump leaned forward and sniffed some long-stemmed roses in a bucket on the counter.

“She’s out the back, but I don’t know why…” Carly let the sentence drift away as another customer entered the shop. “This way.” She led them through to the prep area and as her mother looked up she jerked her thumb towards Patsy and Trump. “Police. They want to speak to you.”

“Why?” Sonia Hemmings brushed some clippings into the bin. “Have I done something wrong?”

“Not that we know of.” Trump smiled. “It won’t take long.”

“It’s about the Hawkers again,” Carly told her.

Patsy pointed back towards the shop. “Don’t forget you have a customer. We’ll speak to you later.” Turning back to Sonia, she said, “I promise we only need a few minutes of your time.”

Sonia nodded and flapped her hand at Carly. “Go on then, don’t let them walk out.” Pushing open the door where Kent had met with Carly, she looked at Trump. “Only two chairs. I’ve been on my feet since six. You two can argue over it. Come on in. I’m intrigued.”

Once settled, Patsy explained why they were there. “Thanks. As Carly has probably told you, the case into the Hawkers’ disappearance is active again, following the discovery of Mike Hawker’s body. We’ve now got the task of finding out what they were like and what was going on in their lives. We’d like you to tell us what Carly had to say about them.” Patsy held up her hand to stop Sonia from speaking. “The reason we’re asking you is because Carly seemed distracted when we spoke to her. I think her frustration over breaking up with Tim Arnold clouded her memory of what she knew of them.”

“Yes, she’s still obsessed with him. Don’t think she wants him back. It’s more that she’s miffed that he called it a day and not her. I liked him, and although I love her dearly, she is a handful. I’m surprised she didn’t wax lyrical though. She had a lot to say about them at the time. Like I said to the other officer, I was almost glad they’d disappeared.”

“There you go,” Patsy smiled. “What did she say about them? And what was your take on them?”

“The husband was a nice bloke, good looking like Tim. Carly said they could be twins, but the wife, Christine, was full of herself, and a control freak. Now, you need to take that with a pinch of salt because I reckon our Carly saw her as competition. She moaned that Tim had too much to say about the woman, and wondered if he fancied her, and Carly also likes her own way, so if her assessment was accurate, it would have been a battle of wills. But she didn’t give me any details, like she said this or did that.”

“What did she say about her run-in with Christine on the Saturday before she disappeared?” Patsy asked.

“I didn’t know she had one. You have that wrong. There’s no way that happened, and I didn’t have to listen about it for a week or more.” Sonia laughed. “No. Never happened. I’d have definitely known about it.”

“So you can’t give us anything useful?” Trump asked.

“No, afraid not.”

“Splendid. Then we’ll have a quick word with Carly and get out of your hair. Oh, before we let you get back to work, can you tell us who did the stock collection that morning?” Trump added.

“What morning would that be, the Saturday? We collect on Wednesdays. Sometimes we have to buy more, but not often, not now we only have the one shop. Our storage place keeps them lovely and cool.”

“Storage place? Where’s that, out the back?” Patsy asked.

“I wish. No, it’s about fifteen minutes away, so not too bad.”

Patsy nodded. “No, that doesn’t sound too bad. You asked what morning. Wednesday, the seventh of March, 2012. The morning the Hawkers disappeared.”

“2012. Why do you need to know that? You can’t believe either of us had anything to do with it? Why would you? You mean Carly, don’t you?” Sonia’s voice had become a squeak by the time she’d finished her questions. Clearing her throat, she rubbed her forehead. “I can’t believe you’re checking up on her. Why?”

“It’s merely for elimination. We believe a white van may have been involved in their disappearance. You had a white florist van, and Carly had a connection to the victims. We’re obliged to check it out. Nothing to worry about at this stage,” Trump answered. “Now, back to the seventh of March. Is there any way we could find out what happened that morning?”

Sonia was chewing her bottom lip. After a moment, she pointed at the shelf above Trump’s head. “Get that box down. If it’s anywhere, it’s in there.”

Trump grunted as he lifted the weighty box from the shelf and placed it on the table. It was full of diaries. He rubbed his hands together to remove the dust.

Sonia unpacked the box. “It should be in here. This is 2010.” Sonia dropped the diary in her hand onto the desk in front of Patsy. “Here it is. Shove that one back in.”

Patsy did as requested, and watched as Sonia leafed through the diary. It was used for orders, and when they had prepared flowers for a wedding, the entries were long and detailed. Sonia tapped the seventh of March, unlike the eighth of March, the page was blank.

“Carly collected the stock. There you go, she couldn’t have been involved, she was at the wholesalers.”

“How do you know?” Patsy asked. “The page is empty.”

“Because it was the first Wednesday of the month. That’s how we do it. Carly does the first one and then we alternate. Don’t ask what happens if there’s five. I get the short stick usually but generally it works. We started doing that after her dad died, before that he did all the running around. So, that’s that sorted.” Sonia began to close the diary when something caught her attention. She grinned at Patsy and tapped the first entry on the next day. “And Betty had played Carly up. Betty is the van. I remember because the wreaths for Mr Collins’ funeral had to be delivered to the undertaker the next morning. See here, where it says Jeffrey, that’s one of the undertakers. He had to come and pick them up because Betty went in for a service. I was going to do it in my car, but he fancied Carly so said it was no problem.” Sonia blew out a relieved breath. “Glad that’s sorted. I was worried for a minute.”

“What was wrong with Betty? Do you remember?” Patsy asked.

“Kept cutting out. Took her hours to get back. Gone eleven it was. Anyway, she went straight to the garage, and they gave her a lift back because they couldn’t look at it until the next day, hence Jeff came to collect the wreaths.”

“That’s a long time unaccounted for. After eleven, did you say?”

Sonia pointed at Patsy. “No. No. No. She didn’t do it. I don’t know what time it was, I was guessing. It was a long time ago. Anything else?”

Patsy held up her hands. “Please don’t upset yourself. We need to ask these questions. Look at it from our point of view. You have a white van, and Carly was driving it on the morning in question, and she took hours longer than usual to come back here, so we need to confirm where she was and when. You do seem rather upset, is there something else you need to tell us?.”

“Of course I’m rather upset. You’re sitting in my shop accusing my daughter of murder, for no other reason than we have a white van.” Sonia was now on her feet, pointing at Patsy. “You’re wrong.”

“We haven’t accused her of anything at the moment. And it’s not just the van, is it, Mrs Hemmings? It’s the van, her knowing the Hawkers, plus her dislike of at least one of them, and being out for the best part of the morning, and something else that I don’t think you’re telling us. But we’ll get there.”

“That’s it. Get out. I’m not being accused of lying in my own shop.”

Patsy stood up. “That will mean we’ll have to ask Carly to come down to the station with us. I’m sorry, Mrs Hemmings, but a man and probably his wife are dead. We have to ask uncomfortable questions.”

Sonia Hemmings glanced at the clock on the wall. “Sit back down. But make it quick.” She pushed past Trump and pulled the door open. “Does she need a solicitor?”

“That’s entirely up to her. She’s not under arrest but as you can see, I am recording this.” Patsy pointed at the recorder on the table. “If it makes you more comfortable, DS Trump will caution Carly before we start. That way she’ll know she should tell the truth and what she does say can have consequences.”

Sonia Hemmings hovered indecisively, but was saved from deciding what option to take when Carly appeared. “What’s going on? Were you shouting? What’s that look for?”

“Don’t you question me. This isn’t my fault,” her mother responded. “Make sure he tells you he can use anything you say against you.”

Trump beckoned her forward. “Come on in, Carly. We’ve finished speaking to your mother. She’s concerned that you might want a solicitor present before we speak to you. Do you?”

“I haven’t got a solicitor. Why would I need one?”

“If you’d come to the station with us, we can arrange for the duty solicitor to advise you.”

“I’m not coming to the station. We’ve got a big order to get ready. Mum?” Carly looked at her mother for advice.

“Get on with it, Carly. I’ll speak to you later.” Sonia Hemmings stepped to one side to allow her daughter to take the seat she’d vacated.

Trump shut the door and formally cautioned her. When he’d done so, he smiled. “You’re not under arrest, but you need to provide us with as full and honest answers as you are able. Let’s start with the morning of March the seventh in 2012. The day the Hawkers went missing. We’ve established with your mother that you were collecting the stock that morning, and that you were away much longer than it would usually take. Hours, she said. Can you tell us why?”

“Of course. The van was playing up. I crawled back here. The garage is up the road, so I took it there,” Carly replied.

“And what happened to the stock?” Trump asked.

“What do you mean, what happened to it?” Carly demanded

“Did you pick it up? If so, what happened to it? It’s not a trick question, Carly,” Trump explained.

“Oh, yes, I picked it up, dropped it at the storage unit, and then came back here and went to the garage.”

“Ah yes, and where is the storage unit? Your mother says it’s not far.”

“It’s not. It’s behind Temple Meads.” Carly gave him the street name.

Trump called up maps on his phone and checked the distance. “Your mother was correct, sixteen minutes. And ten minutes from the wholesaler, so that’s twenty-five minutes in total. Yet you were gone for hours. Did the trouble with Betty start before you reached the wholesalers or after?”

“I can’t remember, it was years ago. After I think. I wasn’t taking notes. Look, I didn’t abduct them. Why are you still asking me about this?”

Patsy leaned forward. “Because we believe a white van was involved, and that it had to be someone they knew, otherwise why would they leave without a fuss? You have a white van, you knew them, and you really didn’t like Christine. You’ve admitted so yourself, and your mother has confirmed that. In fact, you had an argument with Christine the week she disappeared. We understand that she told you to ‘get a life’. So you see, just like everyone else with a white van who knew them, we need to verify your alibi. So far, it’s not looking very good, is it?”

“Why? Because I had trouble with the van?” Colour had flared in Carly’s cheeks, and she grasped her hands together.

“Partly. You said in your previous interview that when it was your turn to go to the wholesaler, you left before six. The trouble with the van didn’t start until you were on your way home. Even allowing, let’s say, two and a half hours to get to and from the wholesaler, pick up the stock and drop it at the storage unit, your mother said you were hours late. In fact, you arrived back here after eleven. That’s five or more hours that you were gone. The storage unit is sixteen minutes away. You could have pushed your van back quicker. Did you not think of calling roadside rescue?”

“No. I forgot we had it. I just kept going, wanting to get back. We had a funeral the next day.”

“Yes, we know, Mr Collins. Okay, we’ll leave that there for the moment. Tell us about the row with Christine.” Patsy leaned back in her chair.

Carly’s mouth open and shut several times. “It was nothing. Is that what she said?” Carly folded her arms across her chest.

“Obviously not. She’s been missing for a long time. It’s what someone else said. Were they mistaken?”

Carly’s forehead twitched, but no frown emerged. “Who? No one was there.”

“No one was where?” Trump asked.

Carly’s eyes moved from Trump to Patsy and back again. Her bottom lip trembled, and in a move that surprised both of them, she was on her feet and had opened the door. Her mother jumped back as it opened. Carly jerked her thumb.

“I didn’t do it. This is like a bad dream. I’m not speaking to you until I do have a solicitor. You’re trying to make me look guilty and I’m not. Get out.”

Trump walked into the prep room while Patsy collected the recorder. “We’ll go, for now. But we may have further questions once we’ve spoken to the wholesaler and the garage. If we do, you can come to the station with your legal representative, or we’ll arrange for the duty solicitor to advise you. Thank you for your time.” He gave a nod to Sonia Hemmings.

Patsy patted Carly’s shoulder as she walked past. “I’m sorry we’ve upset you. But someone has been murdered. Think how you’d feel if it was one of you who’d been murdered. I think you’d want us to be thorough. The bottom line is if you have done nothing wrong, nothing bad will happen. 'Bye for now.” She followed Trump out of the shop and walked down the side of the building.

“Where are you going?” Trump called.

“To get the registration of the van. There are two garages on this road. We may as well check with both while we’re out.”

“Good plan. Do you think it might be her? DCI Meredith might have to elevate her position on the list of suspects.”

Patsy slid her phone into her pocket and grinned at him. “He will. We mustn’t gloat.” Remembering Trump’s tie pin was still filming, she grimaced and then gave a wave. “Sorry, Meredith, just kidding. Hope you are having an equally revealing morning.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

Meredith drove to the lane behind the Hawkers’ house. Parking on their drive, he walked back the way he had come and stopped at the end of the lane. There was the corner shop Patsy had mentioned, and it had a camera mounted outside. He wondered if it had been there in 2012. He turned back as he approached the Hawkers’, and saw a movement in the window of the house opposite. A woman frowned at him. On a whim, he opened the gate in the picket fence and waved as he approached her back door. He held his ID up to the window before knocking.

“I wondered what you were up to,” Jilly Field said, with a smile. “Are you working on Mike and Christine’s case?”

“I am. I wasn’t planning on coming to see you, but thinking about it, you’re probably the best person to speak to.”

“Come in. About what? Would you like a drink? Kettle’s not long boiled.”

“No thanks. I’ll take a seat if I may, and I hope you don’t mind but I’ll record this.” Meredith pulled out a chair at the kitchen table and set the recorder. “Someone mentioned that Christine didn’t like the husband of a neighbour. I think the gist was that he was a pain in the proverbial. Any idea who that might have been?”

“Other than my ex-husband, no. He’s always been a pain in the arse.” Jilly picked up her cup of tea and joined Meredith at the table.

“Christine didn’t like him?” Meredith asked.

“No one liked him. Even I didn’t like him. He’s gone now, thank God. I’ve been happy now for over ten years. I shouldn’t say this, but even the kids were glad he moved out.”

“What did Christine have to say about him? She seemed to be a lady with many opinions.”

Jilly laughed. “You can say that again. She certainly didn’t suffer fools. Put Alan in his place on more than one occasion.” Her face clouded. “I think he saw her as a challenge.”

“Care to explain that? Sexually or in one upmanship?”

“Both, knowing him. Although she never said, and I think Chris would have. There again, I’d have kicked him out years before if I’d listened to her, so perhaps that’s why she didn’t mention it.”

“Is that likely? I thought you were friends. Wouldn’t friends tell each other stuff like that?”

“Yes. But I knew what he was like. In those days, with young kids, it was better the devil you know. Stupid, but true. Chris told me she thought he was seeing the barmaid at the pub on the corner. She’d heard some gossip, but it was reliable. I asked him. He denied it. We rowed. Same old pattern. Then, a couple of months later, she’d been doing something for work and saw him kiss a woman on her doorstep. Not the barmaid. Chris called to him and waved so he’d know she’d seen him. She came in to tell me when she’d finished work, but he’d got in first and made some story up about it being a mate’s wife. Said if Chris had been properly nosy, she’d have seen his mate standing behind the woman. Chris was adamant about what she had seen.

“The next morning on the way to school, she told me she thought I was stupid, that it was a proper snog, probably a thank you for what had gone before, but it was my life and if I wanted to live with a man like that, she wouldn’t bother telling me again. That was about a year before she disappeared. It’s weird, isn’t it? He was a miserable bastard who enjoyed stirring up trouble, yet had no problem in finding women to cheat with. My excuse is I was too young to know better and had the kids to think about. I got there in the end.”

“And yet she invited him to Lottie’s birthday party on the Sunday before she disappeared. Why?”

“She didn’t so much invite him, as invite me and the kids. That’s what I mean. Alan knew it would piss her off, so he turned up. She had a pop at him, though. He complained about someone parking over our drive. It made no difference to us. We weren’t going out, and she told him in no uncertain terms to be quiet. He said something like he didn’t know how Mike put up with her. She must always have him by the balls or something like that.” Jilly grimaced. “Sorry, he wasn’t subtle.”

Meredith laughed. “Carry on, I’m not blushing.”

“Good, because she said, ‘Hardly. Couldn’t fit them in my hand. Unlike yours, or so I’ve been told by the barmaid from the Lion’. Then Mike appeared and put his arms around her, told her to stop boasting on his behalf, and he wasn’t doing a who’s got the biggest dick competition again. It was boring because he always won, and anyway, there were kids in the next room. Even I laughed. Alan was so mad, I could tell, but he just shook his head and tutted, as though disappointed, then went and got a beer out of the fridge. I got a right earache for that when I got home. He said I should have stood up for him and not laughed. I said I couldn’t stand up for him because I’d never seen Mike’s dick.” Jilly covered her face. “I can’t believe I’m telling you this. He didn’t speak to me for two weeks.”

“I take it Mike and Alan didn’t get on either?”

“They were okay. Mike was a nice bloke. He avoided friction, and because he’s sensible, he avoided Alan if he could. I think on that occasion he didn’t because Alan was being Alan to Christine.”

“Your ex sounds like a right charmer. Is he still local?”

“No idea, haven’t heard from him since Josh hit fifteen. I hope not.” Jilly pursed her lips. “I suppose to answer your question, it probably was Alan who Christine didn’t like. I can’t think of anyone else it could have been.”

“Anything else happen at the party that you know about?”

“Nothing that funny. Both Barry and Ron seemed cross about something. Ron wasn’t a surprise. They’ve never got on, but Barry was usually okay. But nothing happened worth mentioning that I know about. It was noisy, fun in places, irritating when the screaming kids got too loud. Just a standard children’s party.”

“If you remember anything, give me a ring.” Meredith gave her a card. “Now, about this van you saw. Tell me what you remember and why you didn’t tell us back then.”

“I didn’t speak to you back then. Maybe Alan did. As for the van, there’s nothing to remember, not really. I came downstairs to do the kids’ lunchboxes and get breakfast on the go, and Baby, that was our dog, had sicked up the toy she’d chewed overnight. So I came in here to get the stuff to clean it up, opened the blind and let her out. And I saw the van there, a white one, but the kids were banging about upstairs and I wanted to get the sick cleaned up before they came down, so I left Baby in the garden, and went to sort it out. That’s it. Other than being white and bigger than Alan’s van, I can’t tell you any more than that.”

“Alan drove a van? What does he do for a living?”

“He’s got a cleaning business. Does commercial stuff, office blocks and shopping malls. That sort of thing. But not himself if he could help it, he had a little team of cleaners, always moaning about the turnover of staff.”

“Did he see the van?”

“No. He was long gone by then. He was out by four and home by ten most days. Slept the rest of the morning. He had a couple that had to be done in the evenings, so he sometimes went to check on those, but mainly he did the morning rounds and Jack did the evenings.”

“Who’s Jack?” Meredith asked, making a note.

“His top boy. Jack was a sort of supervisor. I say boy, but he was probably sixty then. I’m guessing he’s retired now. When Jack was on holiday or sick, Alan would cover for him and vice versa. Why are you so interested in Alan? Do you think he’s involved? Surely not.”

Meredith pursed his lips and twitched his shoulders. “I don’t know, probably not. At the moment, I’m simply collecting information about people who drove vans and or had anything to do with Christine and Mike.”

“But his van was blue, and why would he do that?” Jilly asked.

“Like I said, he probably didn’t. But if I did think that, what would you say?”

Meredith watched Jilly’s face as she considered this. He guessed her answer before she gave it and was right.

“I’d have to say no. Although he had a temper, and I wouldn’t normally put anything past him, I can’t see it. No. Why? Perhaps if it was only one of them, and that one had upset him, then I suppose it could be a possibility, but not both. Seems extreme. Why kill both? No, I’m sorry. I can’t think of any reason that he would.” Jilly shook her head.

“Okay, I’d better crack on. I don’t suppose you have Jack’s contact details, do you?”

“I don’t have an address for him, but I can give you his number. I’m guessing he’s still there.” Jilly gave Meredith the number and opened the door for him. “I hope you catch whoever did this. Even if it is Alan, although it won’t be. They were a lovely couple.”

Meredith thanked her and went across the lane to the Hawkers. Unable to gain access through the back gate, he had to walk around to the front of the property. Glenys Hawker opened the door and Meredith showed his ID.

“DCI Meredith, I wonder if I might have a quick word, Mrs Hawker?”

“Yes, of course, but Barry isn’t in.”

“That’s okay, it’s you I wanted to speak to.”

“Oh. Come on in.” Glenys stepped back and showed Meredith into the living room. “Have you found out something new?”

“Lots. Nothing that will necessarily solve the case, but I think we’re building a better picture of Mike and Christine and what was going on in their lives at the time. I’ve got a few questions I need answers to, so bear with me, it might seem like I’m going off at a tangent. We’ve got a lot of loose ends to tie up. I’m going to record this.” Meredith hit the record button and placed the machine on the arm of the chair he’d chosen.

“I can imagine. Have you stopped thinking it could have been Barry? Because that’s just ridiculous. Mike was our son. What sort of man could kill his own son?”

“Honestly? No one has been ruled out. When you get a case as nonsensical as this, then we have to operate with an open mind. Speaking to those closest to Mike and Christine, they seem to have been a well-liked couple, with no real problems, and still very much in love. They had a nice steady life, and no one can even begin to guess the reason why someone would want them dead. Perhaps that’s because they were good at keeping secrets, or perhaps someone didn’t intend to harm them and something went horribly wrong. Until we find differently, we are working on the basis that whoever took them was driving a white van and was known to them. Your husband falls into that category, as does Christine’s stepfather and a couple of other people we’re investigating. I can understand why this offends your husband, it would offend me, but we’re just doing our jobs, and would hope everyone understands that, and keeps an open mind.”

“I do understand that. But it wasn’t Barry. Heaven knows he’s no saint, far from it, but he couldn’t murder anyone, least of all Mike and Christine. His bark is worse than his bite. He’s not in touch with his emotional side. If he gets upset, he masks it by becoming angry. He’s old school. Men aren’t supposed to cry and get emotional. Just remember that.” Glenys adjusted the cushion on the seat behind her. “Now we’ve sorted that out, ask away.”

“Noted. Tell me what you know about Christine’s relationship with Ronnie Norris.”

“There wasn’t a relationship. He was simply the man married to her mother. It was sad. Like Mike, she was an only child. I can’t imagine accepting I would lose Mike because of a man. Not even Barry. If a woman was forced into choosing between her child and her husband, most would choose the children. Most would also give up their own lives if their child would survive. It’s what makes it so difficult to understand.” Glenys sighed. “Sad state of affairs.”

“Perhaps Debbie had a tough time with Christine’s father. Perhaps once he died, and knowing that Christine wouldn’t be at home for much longer, she decided to put herself first,” Meredith suggested.

“Ah, I can see you’ve spoken to Debbie. Yes, that is what she says. It’s probably true, but I wouldn’t have. Christine could be a bit of a madam, she had these unbending principles, and woe betide anyone who expected her to change them, but she was such a good mum, and wife too, for the best part. I can’t see that she was so bad as a teenager it was worth the grief Debbie had to put up with afterwards.”

“Other than Ronnie not being her father, why do you think she disliked him so much? It seems to me she focused on the wrong person if she was horrified by what she considered to be infidelity. I’m sure you know Debbie denies that. Ronnie Norris didn’t cause her father’s death. He met Debbie and presumably they fell in love. It was Debbie’s choice to bring him into their home.”

Glenys considered this for a moment. “I don’t know because I don’t understand either of them. Not Debbie, for making that choice, or Ronnie for putting up with it. I suppose it must be love. I tried speaking to Christine about it. Right at the beginning, when we first used to socialise with them, but she wouldn’t say anything other than she would never accept him. I found it very awkward in the beginning. I was glad they always left gatherings early.”

“How was she with Debbie?” Meredith asked. “I understand she point blank ignored Ronnie.”

“She spoke to Debbie but never started a conversation. Christine would answer if spoken to.” Glenys shuddered. “It was awful, really sad.”

“Why did you get custody of the children and not Debbie? I understand you didn’t even allow sleepovers there.”

“Who told you that, the kids or Debbie?” Glenys demanded.

“Does it matter? I’m after the reason.” Meredith spoke softly and watched Glenys consider what she was going to tell him. He doubted it would be the whole truth. “Just tell me, Glenys, the kids are all grown up now, nothing will change. They can make their own choices.”

“At first it was because I didn’t want them out of my sight. I didn’t know who’d taken Mike and Chris, and I didn’t know if they would come for the children. As they grew older, I realised they were as safe as any youngsters can be, but I couldn’t get past what Christine wanted. She would never allow them to stay there, so nor would I.” Glenys shrugged. “It didn’t seem right.”

“And you don’t know why?”

Glenys looked like she was sucking a lemon. “No. I suppose we could guess, but if it was that I’m sure Chris would have said something. In fact, she wouldn’t have let him in the house. Who would? That’s why I didn’t stop him from coming to see them because she didn’t.”

“You mean something inappropriate?” Meredith inclined his head.

“Yes. Exactly that. I always wondered if he’d done something to Christine while she was still at home, and she was too frightened to say. Perhaps he was blackmailing her, which sounds wild and ridiculous, I know. But as you pointed out, she hadn’t cut her mother off completely, and things would have been totally different if Ronnie hadn’t been around.” Glenys gasped and her hand flew to her mouth. “You think it was him, don’t you?”

“I don’t know. You know about the van, and you know our theory is that they went with someone they knew. Ronnie is currently one of four, possibly five people, as of this morning. Read nothing into the questions you’re asked. We’re still gathering information and, of course, verifying alibis. Did you witness the exchange between Ronnie and Christine at Lottie’s birthday party?”

“No. But I heard Mike and Christine speaking about something after everyone had gone home, and Barry was in the living room with the kids, setting up the game Lottie had received. I had a bin bag and was going around collecting all the rubbish. Mike and Christine were cleaning the kitchen diner. Mike asked her if she was okay. She said she was now that they had gone, and she hadn’t expected to deal with two idiots that day. Mike said it was understandable that Debbie would be put out, and Ronnie had only been sticking up for Debbie, like he had for her when Alan had got out of hand again. She laughed and said it was a shame he hadn’t been there when Alan grabbed her. Mike demanded to know what she was talking about, and she said, don’t worry, I’m a big girl. He’ll be walking funny for a couple of days, and something about Jilly being crazy for putting up with him. But I didn’t see either exchange. Mike was angry and was banging about for a while. That’s why I remember it because Mike rarely got angry. Do you know what happened?”

“Only hearsay. Let’s go back to the day they went missing. Did anything else happen that day?” Meredith asked.

“I think my son and his wife going missing and their children being left alone was quite enough, don’t you?” Glenys looked at him as though he were simple.

“I do. But as I’m gathering information, I’d like to know how accurate the memories of those involved are. Talk me through that day, from Barry leaving for work to you finding out the kids were at school waiting to be collected.”

“Barry went to work early that day. Had to be on site for a delivery, and they could arrive anywhere between seven and nine. I was glad because Rhona, my sister, was coming over and I wanted to give downstairs a good clean before she got there. She’s one of those who touches surfaces and rubs her fingers together. Rhona means no harm. It’s just what she does. Like plumping up the cushions before she sits down. She arrived midmorning and left about three. We’d had a good catch up, and she left presents for Lottie. She hadn’t been able to make the party.

“I watched a bit of telly and was just about to start on dinner when Barry called to say he was going to get the kids, and a policeman wanted the keys to Mike’s house. As you can imagine, I got in a bit of a tizzy. The policeman couldn’t tell me anything. Barry had the kids with him, so I didn’t know what was going on. I couldn’t find those keys, which, of course, turned up the minute they’d broken in.” Glenys heaved in a breath. “Worst day of my life. Even worse than them finding his body, I’d always known he’d be dead.” Glenys pushed her fingers into her eyes to stop the tears from flowing. “Bloody worst day of my life.”

“Yep, I can understand that. Would you like me to fetch you a glass of water?” Meredith asked, and when Glenys shook her head, continued, “How did Barry manage those first few weeks? I understand he was running the job.”

“It was tough. He’d go in and get them set up, come home and try to be positive for the kids, then go back and make sure everything was okay and lock up. In the end, I told him to go back to work. He made it clear to the men, after the first couple of days, that he didn’t want to talk about it, that he’d tell them if there was any news. They were probably relieved. What can anyone say that would make it any better or would make a difference? There is nothing, there’s just a gaping hole you’ll carry with you to the grave.” Glenys’s head fell forward, as she sighed. When she looked up, her eyes glistened. “I need you to find who did this. Do you think you can?”

“I sincerely hope so. But you need to brace yourself. I think it’s probably someone you know and whoever it turns out to be, I think it could rock your world all over again.” Meredith placed his hand on the recorder, his thumb resting on the off button.

“I’ll cope with more shocking news to see the man responsible behind bars. It wasn’t Barry. He’s done his share already, but not this?”

Meredith released the recorder. “That surprises me. May I ask what?”

“Only if you promise not to breathe a word of it. I haven’t told anyone. It would be such a relief just to say it. Switch that off.”

Meredith pressed the button, and as the red light disappeared, Glenys drew in a breath.

“He has a secret son. One he denied. So, it’s only me who is childless. It doesn’t hurt anymore. But I have so many questions, and I can’t ask any of them.”

“He won’t tell you?”

“He doesn’t know I know. I was trying to calm down before I spoke to him. We had stuff going on and I knew once it was out there it would cause waves. I had Mike to consider, too. What would he have to say about it? Would he be different towards his father? You know these revelations floor you for a while. I was gathering myself, and then Mike disappeared. We took the kids, and that was all we focused on. I couldn’t start a conversation that would probably end in ill feeling and rows, not with the kids living with us. Barry isn’t good at hiding his moods. And now…now I just leave it alone, but it’s still festering.”

“How did you find out if he didn’t tell you? Did the son get in touch?”

“No, some gobby, young girl turned up. She told me Barry had another son who he had chosen to ignore. That Tim, that was his name, was devastated and it was causing problems. The reason Barry wouldn’t acknowledge him was because of me. Barry was frightened of me. She asked what kind of monster I was for him to reject a son. She didn’t get any further because I ran at her. Slapped her hard, said a few choice words, and slammed the door on her. Never saw her again. That was the Saturday morning before Lottie’s party. Barry was at work. I virtually ignored him, and then we went to the party. Christine and Mike commented on how grumpy he was. I said he probably had a guilty conscience, and that made him worse. We were barely speaking when Mike and Christine disappeared, then we just had to get on with it. I probably should say something, don’t you think? I know the kids are still at home, but we’ve never been the same. We’re too old to be like this.” Glenys flicked a tear from her cheek.

“I think you probably should. Be calm. If this girl said he was worried about you, perhaps you should tell him you don’t mind. That it was a long time ago. He might need to get it off his chest, too.” Meredith guessed that Carly had spoken to both Christine and Glenys that day, and another conversation with her was necessary. Perhaps she was strong enough to hump dead bodies about.

“But what if that leads to him wanting to build a relationship with this Tim? Where would that leave me? I know I’m being selfish but I miss my boy, I don’t want him replaced.” Glenys covered her face. “I’ll be glad when this life is over. You catch the killer of my son, and I’ll go in peace.”

“I’ll do my best, but I’m not having that kind of talk. Listen to yourself, you’ve got years left in you. I won’t take that long. No one can replace a child. Do you think Mike and Christine loved one of theirs more than the other? God forbid if they lost one of them, do you think another could have replaced them? Of course not. It’s just different. Talk to your husband or not but never think someone will replace Mike. It might help ease the pain though, you never know. Not least because neither of you will be carrying around secrets. I’ll leave you now, but if you need to speak to me, please call.” Meredith handed her a card. “Think about speaking to him, Glenys. It’s obviously playing on your mind.”

Meredith hurried back to his car and called the office as he drove back.

“Meredith, I was just about to call you. Barry Hawker has arrived,” George told him.

“Good. I’ll be ten minutes, make him a cup of tea and stick him in an interview room. Then round everyone up. I think we need another briefing. I want everyone in the office at two o’clock. In the meantime, get Loopy and Daisy to find out what they can about Alan Field. Previous address is the same as Jilly Field.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

When Meredith entered the interview room with George, Barry Hawker jabbed his finger at him.

“I’ve been sitting here like a spare part for fifteen bloody minutes. Why have you dragged me in here again? You should be out there looking for whoever killed my son.”

“I’ve got a team working on that. Apologies for keeping you waiting, but I didn’t know what time you’d be here. Still, I’m here now. Shall we crack on?”

“What do you want to know this time?”

“A few ends we need to tie up. You haven’t lied to us, Mr Hawker, but you certainly haven’t been honest, have you?”

“Meaning? Spit it out. I heard you were the big cheese, so surely you can say what you mean because I’m not going to guess.”

“Okay, let’s start with bumping into Tim Arnold in the Mall. You told us the only time you’d met him was with Mike in the pub.” Meredith leaned back in his chair and crossed his legs.

“It wasn’t a meeting. And we didn’t have a chat.” Hawker crossed his arms.

Meredith smiled. Maxine Selby would have a field day with this lot. “No, so I gather. This was when you warned him off, wasn’t it? You were fuming.”

“Of course I was bloody fuming. There he was chatting to Christine, hugging her, kissing her. She was a married woman apart from anything else. What would Mike have to say about that?”

“I don’t know. What did he say?”

Hawker went red in the face as he tried to control himself. “What do you mean?”

“Not sure how else I can phrase it. But I’ll give it a go. When you told Mike you’d seen Arnold hugging and kissing Christine, although I heard it was just a peck on the cheek, what did he say?”

“I didn’t tell him.”

Meredith frowned. “I find that odd given your disapproval. Did you perhaps speak to Christine? You know, warn her too?”

“I did.”

“Are you going to tell us how that went?”

“No. It has nothing to do with what you’re interested in.” Hawker closed his eyes and huffed.

“I think I should be the judge of that. How do you know that your actions didn’t result in either Arnold or his girlfriend taking them?”

Hawker placed his hands on the table separating them and leaned forward. “Are you telling me it did? His girlfriend? Why would his girlfriend do it? Bloody hell! Meredith, isn’t it? You’re no better than the first mob. Did they do it or not? If so, why?”

“I can’t tell you why. Although an idea is forming, I’ve had an interesting morning. But you’re still on that list. What I can tell you is that you are really testing my patience. And yes, you’ve got the number if you want to make a complaint. The main reason you’re still on the list is your inability to give me an honest, straightforward answer to my questions. For instance, what time did you arrive at work? You couldn’t remember. Your wife could. Less than an hour ago, she told me you had to be on site by seven to take a delivery. She remembered—”

“You have no right to speak to her. You better not have—”

Meredith rapped the table with his knuckles, returning the interruption. “But I have. I am investigating a murder. The murder of your son and probably his wife. Yet here you are more worried about her finding out you dipped your wick when you shouldn’t have, than seeing that person brought to justice. Now, you start giving me honest answers and I’ll consider not arresting you for obstructing the course of justice and holding you for as long as I am able. Shall we cut straight to that bit, or are you going to stop buggering about?”

“You can’t speak to me like that. I’m not obstructing you. I’m just not wasting everyone’s time with stuff that isn’t related.”

“You can’t possibly know that, not unless you did it. So let’s assume for a moment that you didn’t and you cough up the truth.”

Hawker looked into his lap. When he looked up, he started talking. “I don’t know that I took a delivery that morning. If that’s what Glen said, then that’s what happened. My memory isn’t perfect. But I don’t think anything I said or didn’t say to Tim Arnold has anything to do with this. Whatever you’re thinking, he didn’t take them and kill them because I’m a bastard. He doesn’t seem the type. He seems like a decent lad. Of course, I knew nothing was going on with him and Christine, but I needed to know how she knew him. I wanted to ask him if she asked if he was related to us given the resemblance to Mike, but I didn’t want to get into that conversation with him, so I shouted at him instead. And I asked her next time I saw her and Glen wasn’t within listening range.”

“That’s better. What did she say?” Meredith asked.

“That she knew who he was and he seemed like a nice bloke, that Glen would like him, and I should stop lying, because that’s what she thought I was doing, but more importantly I should stop being such a mean bastard, because he was my son.” Hawker blinked rapidly and swallowed back the lump in his throat. “I told her to mind her own business.”

“Thank you. What did you have words about at Charlotte’s birthday party?”

“Same thing. She asked me if I’d told Glenys. I told her to button her lip and mind her own business. Other than to say goodbye when we left, that’s the last conversation I had with her. I’m not proud of myself.”

“I’m not surprised on all accounts. For what it’s worth, I think you should be honest with Glenys. She might surprise you.”

“Do you? Well, you can mind your own business too. Was there anything else?”

“Tell me about Ronnie Norris. What’s your opinion of him?” Meredith asked.

“I don’t really have one. In all the years I’ve known him I don’t think we’ve got further than hello, how are you, a bit nippy out. He’s not the talkative type.”

“But as a man. What’s your take on him? You must have one. You’re full of opinions on all types of subjects.” Meredith smiled to let him know it wasn’t an insult.

“I’ll ignore that. If I’m honest, I don’t like him much. He just sits there. Yes, I know he probably came to support Debbie, but I’m not sure it helped. I reckon Debbie and Christine would have mended a lot of fences if he hadn’t been there, arms folded, looking miserable. I often wondered if he came to irritate Christine, and I said as much to Mike.”

“What did Mike have to say about it? Did Christine expand on her issues with him to Mike?”

“Not that I know. Mike said he’d convinced her to let Debbie remain a member of the family, and if that meant Ronnie too, then she’d have to cope. Mike wouldn’t push it any further, and thought he’d done enough. It wasn’t his battle to fight.”

Meredith nodded. “I asked Glenys if she thought Norris had ever been inappropriate towards Christine when she was younger and she admitted the thought had crossed her mind. Did you ever discuss that?”

Hawker’s eyes widened in amazement. “No, never. Glenys said that? She never to mentioned it to me. Did he? Did he do something inappropriate? That would justify why she wouldn’t let the kids go there. I always thought that was mean, but that would explain a lot.”

“I don’t know, but I intend to find out if I can.” Meredith uncrossed his legs. “Okay, Mr Hawker, that’s it for today. If you remember who you saw on the morning you were taking the delivery, give us a shout. Because we still want it confirmed, so don’t get all wound up because you hear we’ve been asking. Come on, I’ll see you out.”

As they walked back along the corridor to the main reception, Hawker nudged Meredith. “I don’t like all these questions because I want you to be looking for who did it. I can see you’re committed but stop wasting time on me. Apologise to the other one, the one I complained about.”

“I will. You can ignore me, or even tell me to go forth, but you should tell Glenys. We have four, probably five suspects including you and Tim Arnold. Odds are she’ll find out he’s on the list and ask why. That might be awkward, and, of course, there is a chance it was him or possibly his girlfriend, then it will absolutely come out. That’s not the way for her to learn about him. Think about that.”

Hawker nodded but didn’t speak. His shoulders were rounded and his head down as he waited for the door to release him.

***

Meredith clapped his hands. “Okay, let’s get going. Hopefully you’ve all caught up with this morning’s discoveries. Daisy, get our suspects up on the screen.”

Five faces appeared on the screen.

“I’ve put these in order of likelihood, in my humble opinion of course.” He winked at Patsy.

“In joint top position are Ronnie Norris and our latest contender, Alan Field. Put your hand down, Loopy, I’m going to let you have your say in a moment. Next is the not so nice Carly Hemmings, I still think it’s a stretch her lugging a body about but have since heard that a sack truck lives in the back of Betty, her white van. I didn’t know that before. Which just goes to show you shouldn’t jump to judgement before you’ve examined all the other evidence.” His eyes shifted to the door as it opened, and he held in his groan as David Ashworth entered. “Afternoon, Chief Superintendent, I wasn’t expecting you. I’ll just finish.”

“Carry on. You would have known if you ever returned a call. I’ll take your seat. But as I have to join in, a recap would be nice.”

Meredith didn’t resist the urge to roll his eyes and quickly recapped what he’d just said. “If you want the whys and wherefores you’ll be sitting there until you’re late for dinner. I’ll catch you up later.” Returning his attention to the screen, he moved his finger across the final two. “In joint last place are Tim Arnold and Barry Hawker. Until we get a better reason than Christine and Mike were seeing Arnold, I can’t see a man killing his own son. But open mind, I was wrong about Carly Hemmings. Which leaves Arnold. I’ve not looked the man in the eye, but from what I’ve heard about him, I don’t think he had enough motive. Both Mike and Christine had accepted him, so unless it was to punish Barry Hawker, there’s no motive. But that is a motive, however farfetched, so he stays on the list. Kent has found out where he was working, and Arnold has suggested people who might be able to confirm he was on site and not abducting his half-brother. As I said this morning, he doesn’t seem to be hiding anything. Yes, sir?” Meredith turned to Ashworth, who had raised his hand.

“I know enough about the others because I’ve been following the progress, but who is Alan Field and how does he fit in? I’m sure you telling me that won’t take until dinnertime.”

“Alan Field was a neighbour, and at the time, husband to Jilly Field, who spotted the van. He was a general pain in the arse to all who knew him, and worse to his ex. We’ve found out in the last couple of days that he had a run-in with Christine on the Sunday before they disappeared. When he implied that she was a ball-breaker, she told him he needn’t worry as she heard his tackle wasn’t up to much. Later that day, she was overheard telling Mike that Field had grabbed her, and she’d done something that would ensure he couldn’t walk straight. Mike was angry, probably rightly so, and his mother said he didn’t do angry, so perhaps there was a showdown? He also ran a cleaning company, and the lovely Loopy has found the website of his company, which currently runs three white vans. They have the company sign written on them and are newer than the disappearance, but at the time of the Hawkers’ disappearance he did the morning rounds in a blue van, and had a supervisor who did the evening work. There might have been a white van. I was just coming to that bit.”

Ashworth nodded and waved his hand. “Then carry on.”

“I shall. So, we still need to verify alibis. In addition,” Meredith nodded at Daisy and the screen changed, “top of the list, Alan Field. We need him in for an interview. Shouldn’t be too hard as he has a website. Next, we need to find Kelvin West. Debbie Norris seems to think it was him who pointed to Ronnie on the inappropriate behaviour. He was a boyfriend, so current age would be mid to late forties at a guess. So far Loopy hasn’t found him on the socials, but he might not be using his full name or have a nickname. Next Jack Casey. Supervisor for Alan Field. Address is on the file. We need to find out if there was a white van around at the time, and as a very long shot, what Field was up to on that day. He wasn’t speaking to his wife, and she assumes his mood was because she’d laughed at Christine’s insult to his manhood. If Casey can’t help, we need to find out who was working for them at the time and locate them. Now, because I can see the chief super is drumming his fingers, I think that’s enough to be going on with. Everyone remains in the office, and we get them to come to us. If anyone doesn’t want to come in, find out where they are and go and pick them up. I don’t know what’s coming next, but I think I’m about to find out, so it seems urgent. That being the case, a few more complaints will be overlooked, I’m sure. Get on with it.”

As Meredith walked over to Ashworth, he glanced at Patsy, who had dropped her head. Her lips pursed, and he knew she’d guessed correctly that the order to remain in the office was to ensure she didn’t dash off anywhere. Not that she’d ever listened in the past. He paused for a moment as he realised how he could avoid a confrontation on her first day back and spoke quietly to Ashworth before yelling across the office.

“Hodge, with us.”

Trump looked at Seaton and grinned. Meredith saw this and walked across to them.

“Something amusing?” he asked.

“No, Guv. While you were away, Trump made the incorrect observation that I was morphing into you. All he asked was that I didn’t bellow if a whisper would have sufficed. You bellowed. We’re schoolboys at heart.”

Meredith smiled. “Morphing into me, Seaton? I’d take that as a compliment.”

“I don’t think that’s how Trump intended me to take it. And I’d never have a beard. I think the super’s getting impatient.”

Meredith rolled his eyes and glanced at Ashworth, who was holding the door. “He always is. You ready for this, Hodge? You’ll see firsthand what I’m up against.”

Her previous annoyance forgotten, Patsy smiled. “I am.”

Three hours later, they returned minus Ashworth. Meredith went to stand by the board.

“Don’t ask because I won’t be telling you until we’ve put this one to bed. Give me a brief update and get yourselves home. I’m still jet-lagged and I want you all in here at eight in the morning.”

Update received, Meredith left the office and walked to the car with Patsy. “Early finish because I’m knackered, and you’re out of practice. How was it?” he asked.

“Bloody marvellous. I’m back, Johnny, and yes, I’ll be careful, and yes, I’ll speak to Maxine, but I’m back. I thought you handled the chief super well, by the way. He wanted us on it straight away.”

“I know. But it’s going to be a nightmare. And as fantastic as you and I are, that means all hands on deck. I need the full team concentrating on it, so the sooner we solve this one the better. What’s on the menu tonight? Half a bottle of milk and a loaf do not a hungry man feed.”

“Are we going to the gym tomorrow?”

“No, we are bloody not. Are you trying to kill me? Next week will be soon enough.”

“Ah, that’s a shame, I was going to suggest fish and chips. But if we’re not working it off…”

“Oh, you’ll be working it off. Just not in the gym.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

For the next three days, the team busied themselves trying to verify the whereabouts of their original four suspects on the morning of the Hawkers' disappearance. Barry Hawker, Carly Hemmings and Tim Arnold had all been where they claimed they were, but none of the witnesses could put an exact time for any of them. Although the carpenter working on Barry Hawker’s site could confirm he was there all day. Meredith had all but ruled him out. They had yet to hear from either of the businesses using Ronnie Norris.

They had tracked down both Alan Field, who now lived in Bath, and his retired supervisor, Jack Casey. They were both being interviewed that day. They had yet to locate Christine’s teenage boyfriend, Kelvin West, and Linda and Daisy were now working their way through people who had known Christine in her latter years at school.

It was Friday morning, and Meredith brought the briefing to an end. “So, that’s where we are. We might have missed something, but unless either Field or Casey gives us something we can work with, all they will do is add more unanswered questions. Other than knowing a few family secrets, we’re no further forward than when we started. Maybe we have put too much weight on the white van.”

“But your face tells me you don’t think that,” George observed. “What’s your gut telling you, Meredith?”

“I think the van was a crucial sighting, and I think they knew their abductor. As always, we need to work out the why. Hodge and I went over everything again last night, and two things were repeated throughout the interviews.”

Meredith turned and wrote on the whiteboard.

WHY TAKE BOTH?

PERFECT COUPLE!

“Almost everyone we spoke to said one or both. Therefore, pending the Field and Casey interviews, the current questions are and will probably remain…”

Again, Meredith wrote on the board.

Who would want to be rid of the perfect couple?

Who would benefit by the removal of both?

“We haven’t come up with the answer yet, but as Hodge pointed out, taking and killing the perfect couple is going to defy any sane person’s logic. So, despite my previous comments about lugging bodies about, was it Carly Hemmings, consumed by jealousy, taking out the couple she thought had caused so much grief to her relationship? Was it Field because the couple had insulted his virility, causing him to grab Christine at the party and maybe make an angry Mike call him out on it? Or could it be Arnold, a long shot, I know, taking out the couple, who once out of the way left him with a father with nowhere else to direct his attention? Also as unlikely, if not more so in my opinion, is Barry Hawker, with the motivation that he was terrified the couple were going to reveal his infidelity. Or last but not least, Ronnie Norris. Did he finally lose it after years of being ignored, and his wife being sidelined? Had he been inappropriate in the past? Perhaps Christine was going to out him. Maybe a bit of both, but he wouldn’t benefit from killing them both. Would he? Why take Mike?” Meredith lifted his shoulders. “We don’t have a concrete motive that I can get my head around, let alone the evidence to prove it.

“So, Daisy, continue to track down Kelvin West. Loopy, get on to Amazon and the parcel company, threaten we’ll send someone down there with a warrant to search their systems. Trump, speak to Norris and Carly Hemmings, and ask them for access to their bank statements. Let’s find out where they were spending their money, particularly the week following the abductions. If they refuse, call Uncle David and tell him I might be asking for warrants to look at their phone and bank accounts and maybe more, depending on how the interviews go. Seaton, you and Hodge will interview Field, Kent, you’re with me, we’ll take Casey. I want everyone cautioned on every interview from here on in. Questions?”

When no one spoke, Meredith told them to get on with it and walked to his desk. Patsy walked across to speak to him.

“Was there a reason you gave me Alan Field?” she asked.

“Have you got a problem with that?” Meredith raised his head and held her gaze. There was a reason, but he wondered if he’d called it wrong.

“None at all. But you have Field at the top of the list, I thought you’d rather do it.” Patsy shrugged. “I’m more than happy.”

“Good. You’re leading. I’ll let Seaton know. He’s due in about twenty minutes. Shame he’s in before Casey, he’ll be another hour. Are you ready for him?”

“You didn’t give me a reason.”

“Do you want the honest answer, or shall I pull the boss card and tell you to get on with it?” Meredith asked.

“Honesty always. We agreed.”

“You’ve erred on the side of aggressive since you’ve come back. Nothing over the top, just enough to needle people. Field is a bully, and it will irritate him that an attractive woman is calling the shots. You’ll probably get more out of him.”

Patsy’s eyebrows rose. “Have I? It wasn’t intentional.”

“Perhaps I’m wrong. Either way, it’s what I want you to do.”

“You want me to be aggressive?” Patsy asked, her brow furrowing.

“No, I want you to needle him. Just use the same tone you did with Debbie Norris and Carly. Look, Patsy, if you’d rather not, I’m happy to swap.”

Patsy held up the flat of her hand. “That’s not what I said. I said I was happy to do it. I’m surprised you haven’t mentioned you thought I’d been aggressive before. Now you’re calling me Patsy again, that’s worrying.”

Meredith rubbed his hands over his face. “Apologies. Hodge, either get on with it or tell me you don’t want to. I have work to do.”

“That’s better.” Patsy smiled. “I’ll do Field.”

Patsy walked over to Seaton and pulled out the chair opposite his desk. They fell into conversation. Meredith watched for a few moments, wondering what the conversation had been about. He stored his questions for when they were at home.

Patsy smiled at Alan Field. “This way, Mr Field. Hopefully, it won’t take long.”

“Good. I’d still like to know what this is about.”

“I’ll explain that once we’ve cautioned you.” Patsy swung her hand into the corridor. “First door on the right.”

“Cautioned? Am I under arrest?”

“Not at the moment. Go on in. DS Seaton is waiting for us.” Patsy raised her eyebrows and jerked her head towards the door of the interview room.

Field stepped into the room and looked at Seaton. “Are you in charge?”

“Not of the investigation, nor of the interview, really. Take a seat.” Seaton pointed at a chair.

“What investigation are—”

Patsy pointed at him. “Hush. One moment.” She pushed the door shut and pointed at the chair. “Sit.” Hitting the record button, she smiled at Seaton as Field dropped onto the chair.

Seaton cautioned Field, also advising him that the interview was being recorded.

“The Hawkers! What has their disappearance got to do with me, and why do I need to be cautioned? Do I get a brief?”

Patsy smiled. “A brief? Do you have one?”

“No. But that’s what happens, isn’t it? You arrest someone, caution them, and there’s a what do you call it, a brief who is usually useless.”

Patsy exchanged a grin with Seaton before looking back at Field. “Mr Field, I think you’ve been watching too much television. You’re not under arrest, so no legal representation is offered, although if you think you need it, we can suspend this interview and await the arrival of the duty solicitor. Not sure how long that would take. Would you like me to find out?”

Field looked hesitant for a while, eventually shaking his head. “Let’s see how it goes. Get on with it.”

“I’d like you to take yourself back to Charlotte Hawker’s birthday party and tell me what you did to Christine Hawker that made her ‘ensure you couldn’t walk properly’.” Patsy made speech marks with her fingers.

Field threw his hands into the air. “You have to be kidding me. That was years ago.”

“It was. 2012. And three days before Charlotte’s parents disappeared. Where on her body did you grab her? I’m sure you haven’t forgotten because she’d already had the others laughing about the size of your manhood, then she injured you in that region. A man with your inflated ego wouldn’t forget that.”

Field looked at Seaton and jerked his thumb towards Patsy. “Is she allowed to talk to me like that?”

Seaton nodded. “She’s in charge. Answer the question. Where did you grab her?”

“It was a joke. What’s that got to do with anything?” Field was frowning, his eyes moving from side to side as he fell silent.

“Are you going to tell us?” Patsy asked.

“No. But I’d like to know who did. There was no one there.”

Patsy smiled at him. “Good, so we’ve established that you grabbed her, although you are refusing to tell us where or how. Perhaps you’d tell us what she did to you to ensure you couldn’t walk properly.”

“No, I wouldn’t have done that. Whoever said that is exaggerating, we were mucking about.” Field folded his arms.

“I doubt that very much. Christine didn’t like you and only allowed you in the house because your then wife and children were there. I really can’t picture her mucking about with you. Did she knee you in the genitals, or did she grab them to see if you were as wanting as the barmaid from the Lion had told her?” Patsy saw Seaton’s head move and guessed he was containing a smile.

“Are you taking the piss?” Field demanded. “Do I have to sit here and listen to this?”

“No, you don’t, not unless we arrest you. If you’d simply answer the questions, we can move on to the Wednesday.”

“Jesus. Christine was a tease. She was all innuendo before becoming the ice maiden. She liked to wind men up.”

“Really? We’ve not heard that about her, but okay, she wound you up by making a joke about you being wanting in certain areas, what did you do to her?”

“I didn’t do anything, not really. I saw her going into the downstairs loo, so I followed her in and pressed her up against the sink. That was it.”

“I don’t think so. Where did you grab her? I need the full story, Mr Field, or we can’t move on.”

Field slapped his biceps. “I took hold, not grabbed, her arms and walked her forward until she bumped into the sink. I made a few comments, which she didn’t appreciate, and then I left.”

Patsy sighed and rubbed her brow as though irritated. “Full story, Mr Field. What did you say and what did she do? We already know, so take this as our attempt to measure your honesty.”

“God, you’re making such a mountain out of nothing. It was a joke. I walked her up against the sink. Pressed my body against her and asked if she wanted to see how I measured up. That was it. There was nothing else.”

“We know there was. How did she respond? You really are going to be here all day unless you answer in full.” Patsy gave a false smile.

“She elbowed me and twisted around so she was facing me. You see, I wasn’t grabbing her. But she grabbed me, hard, and twisted her hand, and told me to fuck off out of her house.”

Seaton winced. “That must have hurt. She said you’d had trouble walking.”

“Who did she tell? Jill? You can’t believe a word she says because she hates me. But to answer your question before she gets on her high horse again, yes, it bloody hurt. Next question.”

“Thank you. Wasn’t that hard, was it? So what happened when Mike Hawker challenged you?” Patsy continued.

“Challenged me? Give me a break. He might have been the tall, handsome, everyone thinks I’m funny type, but he couldn’t fight his way out of a wet paper bag. Challenge me, ha!”

“Keep talking. What did he say?” Patsy asked.

“Nothing much. Shouted across the lane that I was out of order and if I touched her again, I’d be sorry. I told him, in his dreams, but he was welcome to try, and I stepped out into the lane. He got in his car and shot off. Was that a full enough answer for you?”

“Not really. The footage we’ve received shows more than that happened. We’re trying to avoid going to the expense of getting a lip reader in. I hate it when there’s no audio. Would you like to try again?” There was no such footage, but Patsy knew more had happened than Field was admitting.

Field looked down into his lap, his lips pursed. “Okay, I was playing it down. He took me by surprise, okay?”

“Keep going,” Patsy replied.

“I got back from work early the next morning, and he was just leaving. As I opened our gate, he ran across, grabbed me by the neck, pushed me up against the garage, and told me if I touched his wife again I’d have more than a little trouble walking. I knocked his hand away and told him it was a joke. He said jokes were supposed to be funny and to stay away from his family. I told him, with pleasure, and he left.”

“Thank you. So, on Sunday you have a disagreement with Christine, on Monday the same with Mike. What happened on the Wednesday?” Patsy asked.

“Nothing. I never saw them again,” Field replied. “That was the last time I saw either of them.”

“What about the white van?” Patsy asked.

Field’s head jerked up. “What?”

“What about the white van?”

Field’s frown was back. “What white van?”

“The one that Christine was taken in, and later Mike. That white van.” Patsy stared at him. “The one witnesses tell us was in the lane when Christine disappeared.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. My van was blue,” Field answered.

“How do you know that?” Patsy looked surprised.

“What do you mean, how do I know that? That’s what colour my van was then. I owned it. That’s how I know.” Field smirked and looked at Seaton. “She’s not as bright as she thinks she is.”

“Oh, I think you’ll find she is. Didn’t Jack Casey have a white van?” Seaton asked.

“Yes, he did, so what?”

Patsy leaned forward. “You all drive white vans now, don’t you? We’ve checked. What surprises me is that you knew immediately that you still owned your blue van on that date. You sold it a few months later. It surprises me that you remembered that you still had it on the day the Hawkers disappeared.”

“I have a good memory.” Field smirked.

“Yes, I know from the conversations you’ve told us about the previous encounters. Were you driving your own blue van that morning, Mr Field?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Field demanded.

“That’s what I’m asking. Remember, we have the answers to most of the questions we’re asking, and with your excellent memory, I’m sure you’ll be able to tell us.”

Field looked uncomfortable and repositioned himself on the chair. “As far as I know, yes, I was driving the blue van that morning.”

“You can’t remember one way or another? Interesting.” Patsy glanced at Seaton and checked the time before turning back to Field. “What’s Mr Casey telling my boss right at this moment? Is he telling him you had the white van that day? It was bigger than the blue one, and so much easier to throw two adults into.”

“I don’t know. How did you find Jack? I thought he was in Hampshire with his daughter. Look, lady, I drove the white van occasionally. But rarely. I don’t think I was driving it on that day, and if I was, it was for work, not for snatching some ball-breaker and her husband. Okay. Can I go now? If not, I’d like that solicitor you were talking about.” Field rapped his knuckles on the table.

“Why are you so hostile, Mr Field? Your neighbours disappeared into thin air. Mike Hawker’s remains have been found. He was murdered. Surely you want to help us find out what happened to them?” Patsy asked.

“Nope. I didn’t like them, and I don’t care what happened to them. I’m saying nothing more. Can I go?” Drawing his finger along his lips, Alan Field folded his arms and leaned back in his chair.

“Okay, well, you sit tight, and we’ll speak to the officer in charge. If you need us, just tap the door. An officer will be in the corridor. Can I get you anything to drink?” Patsy asked as she got to her feet.

Field just stared at her, so Patsy and Seaton left without another word. Immediately they’d left, Field pulled his phone from his pocket and began tapping away. Meredith glanced over his shoulder as they entered the main office.

“Good work, Hodge. Casey has just arrived. Do you want to do him too?”

“I can do, why?”

“Bloody hell, Hodge. Forget it. Sit down and do something useful. I can’t have you questioning every order.”

“I wasn’t questioning an order.” Patsy held up her hands.

“Excuse me. I’m not getting in the middle of this.”

Seaton moved Patsy to one side and went to sit at his desk. Meredith followed his journey before returning his attention to Patsy.

“We’ll deal with this later. I have someone to interview. Seaton, I’ll message you if I want Field released. Kent!” Meredith strode away and Kent grimaced at Patsy as he hurried to catch up.

“Thanks for coming in, Mr Casey. We’d like you to answer a few questions about the use of vans whilst you were working for Alan Field. But first I’ll caution you because this is a murder investigation, and anything you say may be used as evidence.” Meredith gave a formal caution while Jack Casey sat with his hand over his mouth. “We’re interested in what vans were in use for work in March 2012. How good is your memory, Mr Casey?”

“Call me Jack. Or am I in trouble? Is that why you’re being so formal?”

“No, Jack, no trouble. Not unless you have something you’d like to confess.” Meredith smiled and leaned back in his chair. “So, what’s your memory like?”

“Okay, I suppose. 2012 is a long time ago, but I lead a boring life. Fire away. Actually, before you do, what murder case? Was someone knocked over by one of our vans? If so, it wasn’t me driving.”

“Not knocked over but it’s possible a white van was used to abduct two people. One of whom was recently found murdered, and the other is still missing.”

Casey closed his eyes for a moment, his fingers tapping the desk as though he were counting. He opened his eyes and looked at Meredith. “I was driving the white van at the beginning of 2012. Alan, that’s Alan Field, was driving a blue one. He didn’t get a white one until the end of June.”

“How do you know that so readily?” Kent asked.

“Because I was living in a flat on Station Road, top floor, pain in the arse neighbours. I moved in June, and I know it was June because my birthday is in June. It was the week after. My daughter had been round to help me pack up, so I had a kettle, and stuff to make a cup of tea, a sleeping bag on the couch and a telly, when Alan turned up asking for a bed because he’d walked out on Jilly.” Casey shook his head. “That was in June 2012 because I’ve been in my current place for twelve years. I let him in, showed him the piles of bags and boxes and said not really as I was moving the next day. Alan said he’d drag the mattress in and help me move because he’d picked up the new van. You see?”

“I do. How did that work out?” Meredith asked.

“Thankfully, it was only for a few days. He can be a bit trying. But give the bloke his due, because he was younger and fitter than me he helped me get straight in the new place. Mind you, I think that was so I’d get back to work sooner because he hated doing the double shifts.”

“How often did you have to work double shifts?” Meredith asked.

“Me, regularly. He took more time off than me, sometimes with next to no notice, not that I minded because he paid well and I was on my own, so had little else to do other than spend too much down the pub or watch the telly. I took three weeks holiday a year. A week at the end of October to see my daughter because it’s her birthday then. A week in July, when I’d go to Spain if I could afford it, and a week earlier in the year. That varied depending on when Easter fell. I used the rest in days as and when needed.”

“What difference did Easter make?” Kent asked.

“If it fell in March, I took my holiday in April, and vice versa. With the bank holidays you get at Easter, it’s almost as good as having a week off. We didn’t have many jobs that wanted us to work over the Easter. You see?”

Meredith mumbled an agreement as he checked Easter 2012. “Okay, so Easter weekend 2012 was the sixth to ninth of April, meaning you’d have taken a holiday in March. Do you know, or can you find out when?”

“Not really. Not unless something particular happened. You know, like moving.” Casey grimaced. “Sorry.”

“What about your boss’s neighbours disappearing without a trace?” Meredith suggested.

“Oh, it’s them you’re talking about, is it? I remember that being all over the news. They had a shot of Alan’s lane, and you could see our van. I told him it was good advertising.” Casey nodded as he spoke. “Yes, I asked him if…Hang on a minute, are you saying he was involved?”

Meredith shrugged. “Don’t know, just eliminating people at the moment. So, when you were telling him about the good advertising, you weren’t on holiday. Had you already been?”

Casey was still nodding. “I was on holiday that week. Went down to Devon to see…Oh my God, he had the van. While I was on holiday, I mean. He put the blue one in for its MOT and a service and took mine. I got back on the Friday, he picked me up, I drove him to collect the blue one, and we were back to normal. But it was that Friday night I saw it on the news. It surprised me he hadn’t mentioned it while we were running around. Bloody hell. You think it was him!”

Meredith was smiling. “I never said that. I said we were eliminating people. Well, thank you, Jack. Kent here will get that printed off for you to sign. Do you want a drink while you’re waiting?”

“Have you got a brandy?” Casey asked.

Meredith laughed. “No, but I have cake.”

“Go on then. But I’ll be straight in the pub when I get out of here.”

“Only if you’re not driving. I think you’ve had enough excitement for one day. Someone will bring it down.”

Meredith almost bumped into Linda as he pushed open the door.

“I heard, Skipper. I’m on it,” she told him, as she stepped past him. “I’ll give him my double chocolate one. He deserves it.”

Meredith thanked her and walked into the office. Trump and Seaton spoke at once, but he held up his hand to stop them. “Save it. We’re not there yet. Hodge, and Seaton, get back in there and see what he has to say.”

That surprised Patsy, as she thought Meredith would want to do it, but she kept her opinion to herself. She was in enough trouble.

Chapter Twenty-Five

“If he says that’s when he was on holiday, then he was. But can I point out that means I was pulling a double shift? Starting at four in the morning, quick nap in the afternoon and then working until midnight. It was a killer. I didn’t have the energy, let alone the time to be abducting and murdering people. Where’s my solicitor?” Field demanded.

“We’ve put in a request,” Patsy told him and crossed her fingers that someone watching would organise that. “Okay, let’s accept that you didn’t kill them. You must remember that day. Once it was established that the Hawkers had disappeared, there were police everywhere. You lived opposite them. Jack Casey remembers it. Your ex-wife and other neighbours remember it. I find it very difficult to believe that you, even when working double shifts, can’t. Just the volume of vehicles and the noise the forensic and investigating teams would have—”

“I know where I was. Or roughly anyway. And I have a witness. A very intimate witness, if you get my drift. Every day that week. Jack’s van was useful like that. It had a bench seat.”

Patsy’s heart sank, but she smiled. “Very romantic. Do you want to share the details of that witness?”

“Not all of them, no, it would make you blush, but I’ll give you their name, if that’s what you mean. If I tell you, I’m walking out of here. Immediately. If not, I’ll wait for my solicitor.”

Patsy opened her mouth to reply, but her phone pinged. “Excuse me.” She read the text and nodded. “Okay. You tell us who your witness is and how we can contact him, and we’ll let you go, for now.”

“Him? Him? I suppose you think you’re funny. Her name was Anika. Can’t pronounce her surname even if I could remember it. But she was on the cards, so my accountant will have her contact details. Hang on, she might even still be on here.”

Field tapped his pocket before pulling out his phone. He located Anika in seconds. Patsy jotted down the number as he read it out.

“Thank you, I’ll show you out. Keep us abreast of your movements if you intend going anywhere, we may need to speak to you again. Don’t leave the country.”

As she entered the office, Seaton put his finger to his lips. Trump was speaking to Anika on speakerphone, with Meredith standing next to him. Patsy sat at her desk as Anika agreed to come in to speak to them.

“I’ll come there. I have a husband now. Give me the address. I’ll be there by three.”

Trump replaced the handset and groaned. “I thought we had him then. Still, I suppose it’s another one eliminated. I don’t know about Jack Casey but I definitely could do with a drink.”

“All is not lost. No fat lady singing and all that. Trump, call Uncle David, I want a warrant for Field’s phone and bank account. He was busy in there while we spoke to Casey. Let’s make sure he wasn’t lining up an alibi. Get one for Hemmings and Norris while we’re at it.” Meredith checked the time. “Everyone grab their lunch. Despite the warrant request, I’m guessing she’s going to provide his alibi or as close enough that we can’t charge him. As it’s Friday and unless something interesting comes in, we’ll call it a day once she’s been in and start afresh on Monday. As Trump needs a drink, I’ll be buying the first round should anyone wish to join us once we’re done.”

Everyone dispersed, and Patsy followed Meredith to the carpark. She watched as he lit a cigarette. Walking over, she took it from him and took a long drag.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, passing it back. “You need a cigarette. Something must be wrong.”

“Nothing. Just frustrated. I thought we’d done it and in record time.” Meredith blew smoke skyward. “Shouldn’t you be poking around in those boxes of grass cuttings you were making this morning?”

“That’s the good thing about a salad they don’t get cold. Have I done something wrong?”

“Nope.” Meredith smiled at her before he took another drag.

“That sounded like it should have had ‘not really’ tacked on the end.” Patsy took the cigarette.

“Are you nervous?” Meredith asked, silently cursing, as he’d intended leaving this conversation until later.

“About what? Explain, Johnny.”

“You are being semi-aggressive when interviewing, you’re questioning my orders, and now you’re in the carpark smoking. Something’s going on. You only smoke when you’re nervous. Me, it’s frustration, so I always have an excuse. You? I’m not so sure what’s going on.”

Patsy grinned at him and shook her head. “No, DCI Meredith, not nervous. Quite the opposite. I’m fired up. Although, yes, I am sharing your frustration at the moment.”

“Then what’s going on?” Meredith ground out the cigarette and pushed it through the hole in the bin.

“I don’t want you to favour me. It seemed like you were. You were giving me key interviews and pulled me into the meeting with the super. I don’t need favours, it’s not like you to give them, so I was trying to find out why. I was expecting to be sitting in the corner in a ball of cotton wool.”

Meredith shook his head, but his eyes showed his amusement. “You know, Hodge, for an intelligent woman, you can be really stupid sometimes. I dish out work to the best person for the job, which tells me you are questioning my orders. Any more of that and you’ll be reprimanded. Understand?”

“Oh, really? What does that entail?”

“Not sure yet, but I reckon I’ll enjoy it. Shall we go and find that mush you prepared?”

George called across the office to Meredith, “It’s over, Meredith. Louie has just shown her in.”

“Put it up there, Loopy. It’s not like we’ve got anything better to do at the moment.” Meredith flipped his hand towards the screen.

A large woman, in a brightly coloured shirt, sat down and refused a glass of water. The buttons on her shirt gaped open, revealing a black bra and an ample bosom. She tugged at the shirt for a moment, trying to remedy the problem before giving up and placing her hand over the issue. Her free hand rearranged her jet-black hair.

“George, that was rude. She’s not fat, she’s…curvaceous,” Linda told him.

“A fiver she can’t sing. Shut up. She’s talking.”

“…so why am I here? I haven’t worked for Mr Field for a long time. Maybe ten years.”

“I’ll tell you in just a moment. We’re recording this interview, but first I need to caution you. This is a murder investigation.” Trump proceeded with the caution, training his eyes on Anika’s face, where her hands now covered her mouth, and her shirt revealed too much for him to be looking at. He smiled. “Please relax. We don’t think you have done anything wrong. We just need clarification on a few things.”

“But you think Alan Field has? What? What has he done?” Anika asked. “Has he killed someone?”

“Why would you say that?”

“Because he has a temper. He was always saying I’ll kill this person or that. Perhaps one day he did.”

“I see. We’ll come back to that. Now, I know this may be a little delicate or embarrassing but I understand you had an intimate relationship with Mr Field back in 2012.”

Anika nodded. “I did. And again the next year after he left his wife. But he was not a good man. He made lots of promises and did nothing. I ended it when I found a new job.”

“Ah, so it was a long-term thing? Did he leave his wife for you?” Trump asked.

Anika snorted a laugh. “No. Everything he did was for him. We were on and off. You understand?”

“I think so, yes. Do you remember early March 2012? Jack Casey was on holiday, and the blue van was in the garage, so Mr Field was driving the white van.”

“How could I forget? It was the van’s fault.” Anika rolled her eyes.

“I’m afraid I don’t understand. What was?”

“Why it all started. Mr Field had been making suggestions for weeks. You know, naughty things. But nothing could happen. Not at work. Then he gets the van, the van with the long seat, and he parked it in the garage and that was that.”

“Your affair began?” Trump suggested.

“It did,” Anika confirmed.

“That was when? Do you remember exactly?”

“It was the Monday. The first day he had the van. Instead of dropping me off, he drove it to the garage. We did you know what, and then he took me home.”

“And where was this garage?”

“At his house. But I know this sounds bad. Please remember later he had his own place, so we went there,” Anika assured Trump. “It was not a long time.”

“So, you had sex in the white van in the garage which sits in the corner of Field’s family home, am I correct?”

“Yes. I am ashamed.”

“Don’t be on my account. I’ve heard far worse. So, you first went there on the Monday of Jack’s holiday, and what happened after that?”

“Every day. On the next Monday, he said he’d get something in the blue van. I refused, so it was less often. Not comfortable.”

“Quite. So on every day that Jack was on holiday, you were working and later having sex in his van in the garage?”

“It sounds very bad, but yes.”

“And what time would this be?”

Anika shrugged. “It depended on work. What time we finished, but around nine thirty to ten thirty. My mother was asking why I kept being late home from work.”

“Prior to going back to the garage, were you with Mr Field at all times?”

“Oh no. He picked us all up. Me and Carol were the last to be dropped off, and the last to be picked up. He waited while we worked for a while, then he went and picked up the others and then came back for us. We’d take Carol to the corner and then go to the garage.”

“And this happened on every day that week when Jack was on holiday?”

“Yes.”

“And you’re sure about that?”

“Every day. If I’m honest, I was glad when he got the blue one back.” Anika shrugged. “It wasn’t that good. But he was the boss.”

“And on the Wednesday of that—”

The screen froze as Linda hit the pause button.

“Skipper, I’ve got him on the phone. Who do you want to speak to him?”

“Got who on the phone? Don’t bother putting that back on. It’s going nowhere.” Meredith stretched his arms above his head and yawned.

“Ah, you’re still jet-lagged, Skipper. You’ve been yawning all day.”

“Who is it, Loopy?”

“Oh yes. Kelvin West. I spoke to a mutual friend of his and—”

“Me. I’ll speak to him. You never know this week might end on a high note.”

“Put him on speaker, Skipper.”

Meredith rolled his eyes and hit the speaker button.

“Mr West, thank you for calling. I’m DCI Meredith and I’m heading the investigation into the disappearance of Christine Hawker, you would have known her as Christine James.”

“Yes, Sally said. I heard about that at the time, but I don’t know how I can help. I was eighteen the last time I saw Chris. That was a long time ago.”

“I know. But we’re trying to corroborate some things that have come up, and you might be able to confirm them. There’s been a suggestion that Christine’s stepfather had perhaps made inappropriate advances to her. In fact, it was suggested that you had told us that. So I’m guessing you knew what was happening.” There was silence for a moment, although Meredith heard the sigh. “Mr West?”

“This is going to be embarrassing. Look to the best of my knowledge, he never did anything. But Christine hated him. I mean properly, properly hated him. I actually felt sorry for him. She was such a sweet, lovely girl when she wasn’t in that house, but when she was in there, particularly when he was around, she was horrible.”

“In what way?” Meredith asked.

“One day I went round to see her, and as we were going into her room, he was coming out of the bathroom. He told us to keep the door open. Now I have teenagers of my own, I understand why. Christine told him to eff off, and he wasn’t getting another show to…pleasure himself to, shall we say. She slammed the door behind us. I asked her what she meant, and she said he’d seen her coming out of the bathroom naked. She wasn’t naked, she had a towel around her. But she was making a song and dance about it because it made him uncomfortable and she hoped her mum would kick him out.”

“So as far as you’re aware, nothing inappropriate happened between them?”

“No. I’d say he’d be too terrified to go anywhere near her. As far as I could see, he avoided her. Can’t say I blame him looking back. But then I was a horny teenager, going out with a beautiful young girl who did as she pleased. If her acting up allowed that door to close, I wasn’t going to argue. That makes Chris sound awful. I don’t think she was. She was grieving. She cried all the time over the loss of her dad, and he reminded her every day that her dad had gone, and to her mind that her mother didn’t care. It was all very sad.”

“It certainly sounds it. Thanks for calling, Mr West. You’ve told us what we wanted to know.”

Meredith hung up as Trump returned. Trump held up his hands.

“What? What’s happened? You all look very glum.”

“We are. That was the old boyfriend, Kelvin West. He doesn’t think Norris would go anywhere near Christine, given the choice, let alone do anything inappropriate. So both Norris and Field have dropped back down to join the others. Bugger. Get your coats, as Loopy correctly pointed out, I’m still jet-lagged and we’re calling it a day.” Meredith got to his feet and walked to the board. He tapped it. “This is all I want you to think about. Who would want to be rid of the perfect couple? Who would benefit by the removal of both? Now there’s a pint with my name on it somewhere. Anyone joining me?”

Chapter Twenty-Six

Peggy Green handed Meredith his drink. “Now tell me again why you’ve let Patsy go straight back to work. Don’t you realise how poorly she’s been? I think you need some sense knocked into you.”

Peggy was the self-appointed matriarch of the Meredith family, and had been since Meredith took her under his wing when she was the witness in a child abduction case. She was currently living with his daughter Amanda and her partner Frankie Callaghan, to help with Meredith’s twin grandchildren.

Meredith shook his head. “Has she? I didn’t notice. Look, Peggy, not that it’s any of your business, I didn’t want her to come back to work yet, if at all. I offered to retire, and even to move to New Zealand, if that’s what made her happy. Do you know what she said?”

“She said no. Obviously.” Peggy tutted as she sat in the chair opposite Meredith.

“Yes, she did. But she also said I’d even miss you. Can you believe that? She thought I’d miss you insulting me and questioning my judgement every five minutes.”

Peggy grinned at him. “And so you would, and what about the twins? You’d never leave them. Ever.”

“I would have. I swear to God I was prepared to keep getting on those bloody planes going back and forth, if it meant she was happy. And I didn’t miss work, so I was also prepared to retire and stay home with her.”

Peggy cackled. “You had me for a minute. I was getting all misty-eyed over your dedication, and then you expect me to believe she’d get better having to put up with you twenty-four-seven.” Peggy reached across the table and grabbed Meredith’s hand. “Thank you for bringing her back. Keep a close eye on her.”

Patsy walked into the kitchen. “The twins are being changed. I didn’t realise I’d missed them so much. The size of them! What are you two talking about? Is there any more tea in that pot?”

“Work. Peggy was giving me one of her verbal slaps because I’d let you go back to work too soon. I told her it was all your own doing. Back me up. She still doesn’t believe me.”

Patsy pulled a mug from the rack and joined them at the table. “Guilty as charged. You know me, Peggy, I can’t sit on my hands. It’s an interesting case. Actually, let me run something past you. I’ll give you the suspects and the connections in brief, then you have to answer some questions.”

“Ooh! A quiz. Come on then, spit it out because I can’t wait to solve another case for him. Where are you going?” Peggy watched Meredith get up and stride towards the door.

“To see my grandchildren. I’ve had enough this week.”

Meredith walked into the sitting room as Frankie and Amanda arrived with the twins. “Put them down then. Let me see how the crawling is going.” He dropped onto the floor and held out his arms. “Come on then. Come to Meredith.”

Amanda put Johnny down. “Dad, you can’t expect them to call you that. We’ve gone with Gramps. They’re both doing Muma and Dada, oh, and Peggy is delighted to be Gee-gee.”

“You can go with what you want. I’m too young to be a grandfather, which is your fault, Sherlock. I’ll stick to Meredith. It’s what I’m comfortable with. Blimey, look at him go. Oh no! Katy’s catching you up, Johnny.” Meredith clapped his hands and encouraged the twins’ progress. “It seems like they’ve grown in the few weeks since I’ve seen them. I can’t believe we’re only a couple of months off their first birthday. What did I do, Katy?” Meredith called to his granddaughter as she headed for the couch and pulled herself to her feet, before returning his attention to Johnny, who had grabbed his toe. Leaning forward, he scooped Johnny up and blew a raspberry on his tummy. Johnny giggled, so Meredith did it again.

“Oh wow. Dad, look, get ready to catch her. Frankie! She’s walking.”

Having seen the fun her brother was having, Katy had embarked on her first walk. Tucking Johnny into a sitting position between his legs, Meredith leaned forward with his arms outstretched. She almost made it to him before plonking down on her backside. Meredith rewarded her with her own raspberry, then sitting her in front of her brother, he clapped his hands together, telling her she was a clever girl. To his surprise, the twins applauded with him.

“Did you know they could do that?” Meredith asked Amanda. “If so, why haven’t I got a video of it?”

“Frankie’s been working on it. It’s only been the last couple of days,” Amanda replied.

“Don’t worry, Meredith. I’ve got both the first walk and the clapping for you.” Frankie waved his phone at Meredith. “I’ll send it now. How’s work?” He looked towards the kitchen as he spoke.

“Don’t ask, Sherlock. Hit another brick wall on Friday, and for some reason Patsy thinks Peggy might have an insight as to the solution. But in answer to your unasked question, Sherlock, Patsy seems fine. She’s back, and she’s kicking ass. Mainly mine.”

Frankie laughed. “I’d expect no less, but keep an eye on her, Meredith. The human—”

“And I’ll stop you there. I know. Do you think I jumped on a bloody plane and brought her home to let her go backwards? No. I can see by the gormless look on your face that you don’t. So don’t ask stupid questions. Oh, now he’s off.”

Johnny had twisted in his position and pulled himself to his feet on Meredith’s clothes. Meredith picked him up and looked him in the eye.

“Are you ready for this? Are you sure?” Meredith asked. Johnny giggled and Meredith shook his head. “No laughing matter. This is serious. Do you want to catch your sister up or not?”

Lifting Johnny to one side, he balanced him against the couch and moved back a few yards, taking Katy with him. Holding out his hand, Meredith beckoned Johnny forward. After several failed attempts, Johnny gave up and crawled off towards a pile of toys.

Amanda headed him off. “Oh no. It’s bedtime. Give Gramps a kiss goodnight and we’ll go and find Nana Peggy.” Johnny cried out, Gee-gee, and Amanda laughed. “Gramps first.” Johnny made a noise that sounded like pamp, and Amanda looked at him. “Did you say pamp?” Johnny repeated it several times. “Is that his name? Here you go, Pampy, Johnny is going to bed. Frankie, call Peggy and Patsy.”

Meredith tried to keep a straight face as he took his grandson and brought him to eye level. “I am not a Pampy. Never a Pampy. Got it?” Johnny laughed and said it again. Meredith shrugged. “Okay, perhaps I am. Glad we got that settled.” Pulling the child closer, he kissed him and returned him to his mother before crawling across the floor to Katy.

Patsy and Peggy walked in, and Patsy nudged Peggy.

“He offered to stay in New Zealand, you know. Can you imagine me agreeing to him missing out on this?” Patsy asked.

“Never heard anything so ridiculous in my life. He mentioned it, and I think it’s his head that needs examining, not yours.” Peggy glanced at Patsy and grimaced. “Too honest?”

Patsy laughed, shaking her head. “No, Peggy. It happened, and I’m better now, but I’m not in denial.”

Meredith hauled himself to his feet using the couch and swung Katy into the air. Having kissed her, he kissed his daughter.

“We’d better make a move. Work in the morning and Patsy is insisting we go to the gym first. Did you solve it for us, Peg?”

“Not yet. I’m out of practice, but I wrote your questions down, I’ll have a think. I’ll give you a call if I need more information.”

“You will not. I’ve got enough on my plate. Hodge, you’re in big trouble. I might opt for a lie-in instead of the gym now. Get your coat.”

At six the next morning, Meredith grumbled as he made sure he had everything. “Can’t believe I still have to do this. Have you got everything, because I’m not coming back here afterwards?”

“Stop moaning, Meredith. Focus on the case while you’re working out. You never know, it might help.” Patsy opened the front door. “I’m ready.”

“I’ll have you know I work so hard I barely remember to breathe, let alone have the ability to think. That was the point,” Meredith told her, as he climbed into the car.

“In which case it might help now you haven’t got to go crazy. I’m not convinced you weren’t showing off in front of this trainer.”

Meredith laughed as he started the engine. “Jared? I don’t think so. He’s all muscle, tattoos and sort of innocent. You’ll like him.”

As they walked into the gym, Jared was filling a display with leaflets. He waved them at Meredith.

“Where do you think you’ve been? I’ve missed watching you limp around.” Jared shoved the leaflets into the last slot and walked over. “Did you go on holiday without cancelling me? I’m not sure about the beard. I almost didn’t recognise you.”

“Something like that. This is Patsy, my wife. I convinced her that she needed me, and she likes the beard.” Meredith winked at him. “I’ll dump this in the changing room, and today you can put her through her paces. I’ll plod, because I’m still jet-lagged.”

Jared held out his hand. “Jared, nice to meet you.” He leaned closer to Meredith, and said in a theatrical whisper, “No wonder you needed pain. Punching above your weight there, mate. I’ll catch you in there.”

Jared warmed up with them both, set Patsy off on a running machine as requested and walked over to the cross-trainers with Meredith.

“Congratulations. I’m glad she came home, and I don’t want to worry you but that woman is in. The one you had a curry with. The one who wanted to give you pain. You might want to try to avoid her, or Patsy might hop it again.”

Meredith held back his grin. “I intend to.”

Jared alternated his time between the two of them, and Meredith had just decided to call it a day when Jared appeared from nowhere.

“Brace yourself, Meredith. They’re talking to each other.”

“Who are?” Meredith held his hands above his head and stretched.

“The wife and the painful curry,” Jared told him.

Meredith looked past him. “No, they’re not. She’s coming over.”

Jared spun around as Patsy approached.

“I’m done. I’d better get going because I need to wash my hair. Thanks, Jared. See you tomorrow. By the way, Meredith, I’ve just seen Maxine. She says hello.”

“Really. I’ll make sure I avoid her then. I’m done now too, so I’ll see you in the café.” Meredith watched Patsy walk away and winked at Jared. “See you tomorrow.”

Jared walked with him to the dressing room. “Does she know? You are one cool dude.”

Meredith stopped walking and looked at him. “Never been called that before. I have a long list of things people usually call me, can’t wait to tell everyone this one. See you tomorrow.”

Meredith sat at the table with the coffees and checked his phone. He had a missed call from Peggy, and she’d left a message. He’d have to have a word with Patsy because he had enough on his plate without fielding calls from Peggy. With a sigh, he listened to the message before placing the phone on the table and lifting his coffee. He watched the comings and goings as he drank it and thought about the case. The super might be right, it might have to be shelved again. Frowning, he picked up his phone and listened to the message again.

As Patsy emerged from the training room, he dashed to the counter, collected a cardboard cup and poured her coffee into it.

“What are you doing? Are we in a hurry?”

“Yep. We need to get to work.” Meredith handed her the cup. “Come on. I’ll tell you in the car.”

Meredith waited impatiently for the last of the team to arrive. As George settled himself, he got to his feet and walked to the whiteboard.

“Listen up. This will be brief. Patsy has inadvertently solved the why. These are our two questions: Who would want rid of the perfect couple? Who would benefit from the removal of both? The answer is either financial or emotional, or both. The Hawkers had no money as such. They had equity in the house, but anything they had would go to the children when they came of age. So, not financial. But they had something. Any guesses.”

“Come on, Guv. We can see you’re wound up. Just tell us. What did they have that someone would want?” Seaton asked.

Meredith turned and wrote one word on the board.

CHILDREN

“Who wanted the kids?” Meredith asked.

“Are you back to Barry Hawker doing it, because they got the kids?” Kent asked.

“They did. But by default. Who wanted the kids and couldn’t have them?”

Linda jumped to her feet. “Debbie Norris. But I’m sorry, Skipper, I can’t see how she could have done it. Are you sure?”

Meredith rolled his eyes. “Okay, I’ll spell it out. Who disliked Christine but put up with her treating him like shit for years for the woman he loved?”

“No! Do you think so? Blimey, Patsy, how did you come up with that?” Linda dropped back on to her seat.

“I didn’t. Once we’d worked out the only thing of real value the Hawkers had was their children, Ronnie Norris was the only candidate where everything fit,” Patsy explained.

“Okay, enough chat. That’s the theory we’re working on. Seaton and Kent bring him in. Hodge, use your passive aggressive voice and…actually, better still, Trump and Hodge get over to Punctual Parcels and put the pressure on, if necessary, offer to do it yourselves, then get down to the Amazon distribution depot. I want this done by the end of the week. Loopy, what news on his phone and bank records? That’s it. Keep your fingers crossed, because it looks like we’ve done it. Kent?”

“I’m in court on the Brandon Farm case today. I can bring Norris in but I can’t do the interview.” Kent grimaced. “Wish I could.”

“I’ll do it. Go on, sooner the better.”

A little over an hour later, a pale-faced Norris arrived at the station. Mike Wild, the duty solicitor, went to speak to him. Meredith and Seaton waited at the end of the corridor. It would usually only take around twenty minutes for the initial introductions and consultation, but after thirty minutes, Meredith was confused.

“What do you reckon they’re talking about? Even if he’s admitted it to Wild, he’d be told to go no comment, surely? I’m going back upstairs to find something to eat. In my eagerness to get this going, I skipped breakfast.”

“What was that you were eating at your desk then?” Seaton asked with a grin.

“A snack, I…hang on. He’s appeared.” Meredith hurried down the corridor to Mike. “You took your time. Are you ready for us?”

“We are. I tried to dissuade him, but Mr Norris would like to make a confession.”

Meredith grinned at him. “Would he now? Well, I’m glad your powers of persuasion are rubbish. After you.”

Meredith and Seaton followed Wild into the interview room. As they entered, Norris looked up at them.

“I did it. I didn’t mean to, but I—”

“Hold it right there.” Meredith hit the record button. “Mr Norris, you realise that you remain under caution, don’t you? And you confirm that you have taken advice from Mr Wild here.”

“I do, and I don’t need advice. I did it, and I’m glad it’s over. What happens now?” Norris blinked and brushed away his tears.

“Now, Mr Norris, you tell us what happened and why. Start at the beginning and tell us how you got them into the van and end up with telling us where we will find Christine Hawker’s remains. In your own time.”

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Christine Hawker opened the door and her hand flew to her hip. “What do you want?”

“I need to speak to you about your mother.” Norris took a step forward.

“Stay right there. I’m busy, she can come and speak to me herself. I have nothing to say to you.” Christine started to close the door.

“It’s serious, Christine. I know you survive wrapped up in your own little world, but she cried herself to sleep again last night. Please. Give me a minute.”

“Is she ill? Is it serious? Okay, you’ve got ten minutes. Let me get my shoes.” Christine went to the hall and replaced her slippers with her shoes. On the way back through the kitchen she grabbed her bag from the back of the chair. “In the lane. It sounds like I’ll need a smoke.” Closing the gate behind her, Christine rummaged in her bag, found her cigarettes, lit one, and slung the strap over her shoulder as she turned to face Norris. “Go on then. Tell me.”

“You have to ease up with this punishment of your mother. Every time she comes here, she breaks a little bit more. She was crying before we got home on Sunday and was still crying when I went up to bed. Would it kill you to let her in a little? This ridiculous…I don’t know what to call it, but I’ve had enough of you dragging her down and looking down your nose at her. I don’t know what sort of kicks you get out of it, but enough, Christine, enough.”

Christine took a drag on her cigarette and flicked it away. “This again. I’m not speaking to you about my family. Perhaps she should have thought about the consequences of sleeping around before—“

At the end of his tether, the back of Norris’s hand hit its target and Christine staggered backwards. Losing her footing, her head collided with the fence post behind her, and she gave a little grunt as she hit the ground. Norris dropped to his knees next to her.

“I’m sorry but you have to stop speaking about her like that. Come here. Let me help you up.” He took hold of Christine’s hand and tried to pull her up. She was a dead weight. Norris panicked and tried to find a pulse. He couldn’t find one. “Oh my God, oh my God!”

He tried slapping her face lightly, but there was no reaction. Looking and failing to find a pulse again, he got to his feet, wondering what to do. Who would believe that it had only been a slap? Everyone knew they hated each other. He needed to think. Sliding open the rear door, he hauled her body into the back of the van. There were few parcels in there, just a couple he’d not managed to deliver the day before. He’d called into the Hawkers on the way to the distribution centre. Sliding the door closed, he drove off.

As he turned onto the main road, he checked the time. Fifteen minutes. Fifteen bloody minutes and he’d managed to kill someone. Unable to think straight, he headed for the motorway. He should have just got Mike and told him. Now he had to get rid of her body. No one in their right mind would believe him now. Driving onto the motorway, he headed south, and tried to regulate his breathing as his mind refused to come up with a plan. He just kept driving.

Norris gave a shout of fright as Christine hammered on the bulkhead behind him. She was alive! He slowed down and could hear her shouting, not clear enough to hear the words, but the message came through loud and clear. He shouted back.

“I thought you were dead. I was taking you to hospital. Hang on, I’ll stop as soon as I can.” Smiling, he headed for the slip road. As he waited at the lights to do a U-turn to head home. The banging began again. “Not long,” he called. He knew she’d be spitting mad but he didn’t care, at least she was alive.

Exiting the motorway at Cribbs Causeway, Christine had been quiet for a while, so he called to her again,

“Not long now. I’ll pull over at the bus stop and I’ll even let you punch me. I am sorry, I panicked.”

He received no response, so once parked, when he slid the door open, he jumped back, expecting Christine to fly at him. She didn’t. He stepped closer and peered in. Christine was lying on the floor of the van, a pool of vomit near her mouth.

“Ah shit!” He climbed into the van and gave her a shake. She groaned a little, but made no effort to move, so he shook her again.

“Don’t touch me. Get Mike.” The words were barely a whisper.

“Shit, shit, shit! Okay, I’ll take you to Mike. Probably carsick because of the lack of windows. Won’t take long.”

Norris slammed the door. He should have known better than to go and see her. He’d take her home to Mike. Perhaps Debbie could still go there on her own. She loved those kids. Christine would let her go, wouldn’t she? His heart sank. Probably not. What had he done? Too late now. He’d get Mike to get her out, and he’d never have to see them again. The commuter traffic was heavy, his progress slow, and realising Mike would probably be at work, he headed that way. He’d been right. As he pulled into the road, Mike was parking behind the building. Norris bumped up on the kerb. Perhaps Mike would see that this wasn’t Debbie’s fault. He jumped out of the van and called to Mike as he ran around to open the door.

“Mike. Over here. Quick, it’s Christine, she’s not well.”

Mike strolled towards him. “You’ve got Christine with you? Why?”

“Long story. Come and help me move her. She’s in the back.”

Mike trotted towards him. “Why is she in the back? Oh my God! Chris. It’s me. Are you okay?”

“She’s been sick.” Norris watched Mike climb into the van and drop to his knees next to his wife.

“It stinks of fumes in here. I’m not surprised.”

Norris blinked. The garage had warned him about that. Two holes had rusted through above the exhaust. They told him to get it sorted. He opened his mouth to answer when Mike cried out.

“She’s fucking dead.” Mike dropped Christine’s arm and rolled her onto her back and began CPR. “Call a fucking ambulance!”

“Are you sure? She can’t be!”

“No pulse. NOW, Ronnie, now!” Mike covered Christine’s mouth with his own.

Norris took a step back. She couldn’t be dead. She was a bitch but she was a good mum. What would they do without her? His eyes widened, and he slid the door shut. Jumping into the cab, he started the van and clipped a lamppost smashing a light before he headed back for the motorway.

Meredith looked at Norris as he repeatedly brushed the tears from his cheeks.

“So the killing of Christine, assuming Mike was correct and she was dead, was an accident?”

“Yes.” Norris sniffed.

“But you knowingly got back into that van and drove up and down until you’d killed Mike, too?”

“Yes. I know I’m an evil bastard. Now lock me up. I’m not leaving here. I’m not going home.”

“No, you’re not. Why did you do that? Why compound the problem? Was it the ‘might as well be hanged for a sheep as a lamb’ reasoning?”

Norris pointed at him. “Yes. Yes, it was. I’d killed Christine, and I’d go down for it. I’d lose everything but if I killed them both and got away with it, Debbie would get the kids, and I’d be free. Free to stay with Debbie, and free of having to deal with Christine ever again. If I got caught, then so be it. Same difference, everything would be lost. Do you see?” Norris pleaded with Meredith.

“Unfortunately, I do. What did you do with the bodies?”

“You know where I buried Mike. I took Christine up to Purdown. I figured if I separated them, it would add to any confusion if one or the other was found. There’s a lane there that has a row of abandoned sheds. She’s in the third one. Not very deep, but I pushed over a wall, so she’s covered up well enough. Can’t believe a dog walker hasn’t found her. I’ve been waiting for that to happen. People use that lane every day.”

Meredith nodded. “What was the rope for? There was a length of rope with Mike.”

“I was having trouble moving him. He was a big lad, so I tied it around him, under his arms, gave me something to hold while I dragged him.”

Meredith shook his head. “Ronald Norris, I am charging you with the murder of—“

“And for the record, before you throw away the key, it was her who came on to me. The night before she moved out, Debbie was at her sister’s and Chris was parading around in her underwear. I told her to get some clothes on, and she taunted me. Told me I wasn’t a real man, not like her dad, and she felt sorry for her mother. I grabbed her to push her out of the room, and she smiled at me. Asked me if I wasn’t curious. I’m only human. I was aroused and she looked down and could see that. She spat in my face and screamed blue murder. I slapped her and told her to get out or I really would show her I was a real man. She left the next day.”

“And that’s the version of events you’re sticking with?” Meredith asked.

“You can believe what you like.” Norris crossed his arms.

Meredith completed the charge, and Seaton took Norris down to the custody suite, while Meredith went to organise the recovery of the body.

Meredith pulled on the shoe covers and looked at Frankie Callaghan.

“He says it’s the third one. It will be missing a wall he pushed it over to cover the grave. Shall I lead the way?”

“After you. I’m surprised you came, as this should be a given, I thought you’d await a call.” Frankie followed Meredith into the lane and looked at the row of decrepit buildings covered in graffiti. “We’ll be gentle with her, you know.”

“I know. If I’m honest, I’m avoiding the super. He’s got a new case for us and it’s going to be a messy one,” Meredith told him as he pointed to one of the derelict sheds. “Think this is it.”

“Not like you, Meredith. You’re usually a bull at a gate with these things. Stand back, let my guys check the structural safety.” Frankie beckoned a bespectacled man forward, and asked, “Safe to go in?”

“I think you’ll find I’m very considered in my actions. I don’t know, Sherlock, I am keen to get going, particularly if it takes me where I think it’s going, but…let’s just say, I’m wary. There you go. He’s gone in, nothing to worry about.”

“Wary? Another first, what’s the…and we’re off and running. Stay there.” Frankie raised the camera hanging from his neck and stepped forward, stopping at the doorway of the shed. The conversation forgotten, having taken the initial photographs, he called two more men forward, giving them instructions on how to proceed before returning to Meredith’s side.

The rubble from the fallen wall was removed, and the compacted earth below was cleared painfully slowly. After an hour, there was a shout, Meredith had been getting water from his car, and he hurried back. Lying on a plastic sheet in the lane was a handbag. Meredith pulled on his gloves and accepted the purse Frankie passed to him. He opened it and turned it to face Frankie.

“That was her family. A perfect family.” Using his thumb, he cleaned away some of the grime from the sheet of plastic under which the smiling faces of the Hawker family looked at him. He passed it back to Frankie. “I’ll leave you to it. I don’t need to see more.”

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Meredith smiled as Peggy peeped into the dining room and hooted.

“Very posh. What have I done to deserve a dining room dinner? I thought we’d be at the kitchen table.”

“Patsy wanted to thank you. Indirectly, you helped solve the case. Glass of wine?” Meredith held up the bottle.

“I thought you’d never ask. Where is she?” Peggy took a seat at the kitchen table. “Go on, tell me how I helped solve it. What did I say? I couldn’t work it out.”

“She’s getting dressed. Hang on, I’ll play you back your message.” Meredith found his phone, pushed the play button and set the phone on the table.

“Merriwinkle, it’s me. Peggy. I’ve gone round and round and back and forth, and I’m buggered if I can work it out from the scant information you gave me. The only thing worth killing for would be the children. They always come first, which Patsy says everyone agreed with. But the parents weren’t killed for the children because it wasn’t old man Hawker. I can’t believe that. So, to help you solve yet another case, I’ll need more information. Don’t go all stuffy on me and spout that confidentiality nonsense. This is me. I’m the soul of discretion. I’d better go now, Katy has woken up, but when you give up trying to do it without me, please feel free to call. I won’t charge you, a dinner will be perfectly adequate.”

Meredith poured the wine as Patsy appeared.

“Well done, Peggy. Meredith thought you should get your reward. We’re having roast lamb, your favourite.”

“Did he? He said it was you. He never could lie well. Just as well he’s a copper, he’d never get away with being a criminal. I still don’t know how I did it. I’m guessing someone killed them for the children. Who?”

“He says it was for the kids, but it wasn’t. It was because he’d made one mistake, which proved to be fatal for Christine, and then decided in for a penny and killed Mike, based on an assumption that they would get the kids if they were orphaned,” Meredith explained.

Peggy looked at Patsy. “How much has he had? Who did Merriwinkle? Who did it?”

It was Meredith’s turn to look at Patsy. “I told you we should have stayed in New Zealand. Look how I’m treated here.” Meredith turned back to Peggy. “Ronnie, Peg. Ronnie Norris did it. Having killed Christine by accident, he assumed that if also he got rid of Mike, Debbie would get the kids. I think he realised he’d made a mistake going to Mike and was simply trying to stay out of jail. We’ll never know, just like we’ll never know if Christine came on to him.”

Peggy crossed her arms. “I don’t think she did. Her mistake was letting him in the house. Christine’s reaction to him initially may have been fuelled by teenage angst, but she wouldn’t have carried it on that long without good reason. From what I’ve heard about her, she wasn’t stupid.”

“Perhaps she assumed it would get better but never did,” Patsy suggested.

“Perhaps, but it turned out to be a fatal assumption. That poor family.” Peggy sniffed and flicked the corner of her eye. “Shall we change the subject? I didn’t bring a clean hanky.”

“Excellent suggestion. How are my grandchildren today?” Meredith asked.

Peggy smiled. “You only saw them yesterday. They are still bloody marvellous. Patsy, can I do anything to get this dinner on the go because when you said five o’clock I assumed I’d be eating by five thirty?”

Several hours later, Meredith collapsed on the couch next to Patsy and pulled her into a hug. “Thank you. That was a lovely meal. There was a time when I thought I’d never sit snuggled up on the couch with you again. Thank you for coming home. Are you glad to be back?”

Patsy dug him in the ribs, and he yelped. “Don’t ask stupid questions. But it should be me thanking you. I nearly made a fatal assumption myself with the pregnancy thing, but you rescued me. Not Maxine, not time, you, Johnny Meredith.”

Meredith kissed the top of her head. “So I am needed?”

“I don’t know about needed. You’re certainly needy.” Patsy giggled as Meredith gasped in horror. “Everyone needs you, Meredith, and you hate the pressure it brings, but you can’t live without it. Even Uncle David needs you. What time is he due in tomorrow?”

“He says first thing, although I’m not sure what he hopes to bring to the party. This is going to be a tough case. Nearly everyone involved is a serving police officer. Lines are going to get blurred with misplaced loyalties if our whistleblower is right.”

“And you’re going to be stepping on a lot of toes. Perhaps he’s coming to convince you to take a softly, softly approach.”

“I don’t think the super is that stupid. He chose me for two reasons. First, because we’re the best, which goes without saying, and second, because of my situation.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning, we’re the best team for the job. Internal affairs would investigate as though an officer was responsible and meet resistance, and that’s not a certainty. We would simply be opening a cold case, and initially at least we’ll be given every assistance. But, as you point out, toes will be sacrificed during the investigation. It’s unavoidable. That being the case, I’m the best candidate for the job. I’m no longer indispensable. If it all gets messy, despite what you think or want, it will be me doing the walking to appease whoever needs to be appeased, be that the press, the public, or the top floor. Probably all three.”

Patsy wiggled free and knelt to look him in the eye. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”

“I am. My age, my threats to retire, my inability to do as I’m told, I’ll be the fall guy if we don’t get this right.”

“In which case, DCI Meredith, you’d better get this one right.”

“I’ll do my best. Take me to bed, Hodge. I’m knackered and my wife is insisting I go to the gym tomorrow. I think she’s taken with a doe-eyed, muscle-bound tattoo following her around.” Meredith smiled.

“Maybe. But at this moment she’d rather be following her husband up the stairs.”

“Was the correct answer. Bed, Hodge.”

“Lead the way.”

From the Author

Thank you for reading A Fatal Assumption I hope you enjoyed this latest Meredith & Hodge story, as much as I did. If you did, I’d be grateful if you would be kind enough to leave a review on Amazon when you have a moment. Constructive reviews are invaluable to authors. If you would rather contact me personally, the details are below. If you want to read more of my work, you can grab a free ebook copy of The Making of Meredith, the prequel to the Meredith & Hodge series, if you sign up for my mailing list at https://www.mkturnerbooks.co.uk/about

ABOUT M K TURNER

I escaped the corporate treadmill in 2010. I began writing quite by chance when a friend commented, “They wouldn’t believe it if you wrote it down!” So I did. I enjoyed the plotting and scheming, creating the characters, and watching them develop with the story. I kept on writing, and Meredith and Hodge arrived. Then, in 2017, the Bearing women took hold of my imagination, and the Bearing Witness series was created. In 2023, it was The Little Compton Mysteries and I am currently working on the JJ Jenson series. In between all the new ideas, I do, of course, keep going back to Meredith & Hodge.

I am married with two children, two grandchildren, and a German Shepherd named Ted. We live in Bristol, UK.

I would love to hear from you, and can be contacted here: Website: https://www.mkturnerbooks.co.uk

Meredith & Hodge Series

The Making of Meredith

Misplaced Loyalty

Ill Conceived

The Wrong Shoes

Tin Soldiers

One Secret Too Many

Mistaken Beliefs

Quite by Chance

Family Matters

Not If You Paid Me

A Measure of Guilt

Meredith & Hodge Bear Witness

Web of Deceit

Error of Judgement

Chance Encounters

Enough

Gone

A Fatal Assumption

Bearing Witness Series

Witness for Wendy

An Unexpected Gift

Terms of Affection

Meredith & Hodge Bear Witness

Little Compton Mysteries

The Murder

The Abduction

The Burglar

JJ Jenson Series

An Ill Wind

To Kill Two Bird

Too Many Times

Others

Who Killed Charlie Birch?

The Cuban Conundrum

Murderous Mishaps

The Recruitment of Lucy James