In the interest of making
progress in the enquiry, Suzanne listened and absorbed the story Olivia had no
option but to tell her unexpected guest. The narrative wasn’t littered with
superficial details, but DI Andrews got the feeling Mrs. Blackwell’s account
was based on what Samantha had said to her, not the result of first-hand
knowledge. Whilst relaying this party of Miss Williams’ personal history,
Olivia put heavy emphasis on three aspects of this tale: the vicious rumours
concerning Samantha’s friend being spread around; the perpetrator, Alice
Thomas, turning up with half her tongue severed and rammed down her throat;
Miss Williams’ friend mysteriously disappearing the morning of Miss Thomas’
body being discovered. At that point, Suzanne interrupted, asking “Did Laura’s
mum mention the name Helen Stephenson when talking to you about her murderous
pal?”
“No, she didn’t.”
“Let me guess, she was more
Samantha’s mate than yours.”
“Pretty much – except she was
100% Samantha’s friend; I was really socialised with her.”
“Hence you not knowing her name”
“Correct, Sam and I had different
groups of friends when we were studying at Lancaster University.”
“Uneven socialising; I know that
feeling.”
“Like I said, Sam would seldom
share anything to do with her circle of uni friends. I only know the name of
the other two. The details I gave you are all I have.”
“They’ll do for now.”
DI Andrews decided to swing the
conversation back to Lauren’s biological parentage. Gaining the name of her
father wasn’t drastically important to the enquiry, but she evaluated that it
wouldn’t hurt the investigation to have a few lesser facts to prop up the more
crucial ones. There was always a remote possibility that knowing his name might
build a bridge to another lead, but Suzanne wasn’t likely to be unduly worried
if it didn’t.
“What about Laura’s real dad?”
“What about him?”
“Do you know who he is?”
“Sam never said a single word
about him, and I never had any desire to badger her about it.”
“Fair enough”
This dead end in terms of
obtaining his name was a good thing. DI Andrews didn’t feel she’d been remiss
in discarding any further interest in learning it. Enthusiasm to do so was at
the absolute minimum as far as Olivia was concerned, and Suzanne was convinced
there was no point in going against Mrs. Blackwell’s unwillingness to throw the
spotlight onto this individual. The moment was suddenly right to do a U-turn
back to Alice Thomas’ murder and to put a few more questions to the woman whose
house she was in.
“As this incident is practically
linked to Samantha Williams’ murder, I am going to require the name of the
officer in charge of that enquiry.”
“What makes you think I know it?”
“You said it was in the local
paper. If you can recall that, you surely must be able to remember who was
leading the investigation.”
“DCI John Bauer – or at least he
was in that job when it happened. He’s either popped his clogs or has retired!”
Suzanne had one final question
attached to Alice Thomas’ death. It required another delve into Olivia’s
student lifestyle, but she was by now prepared to face her host’s indignity
over further rummaging around in affairs Mrs. Blackwell would argue in favour
of being left well alone.
“You mentioned that you know
Sam’s other friends’ names beside Helen: who were they?”
“They won’t be able to tell you
anything.”
“That means you know what
happened to them.”
“I do, yes, but what good
will...”
“Just give me the names, Mrs.
Blackwell!”
“Patricia Cooke, Thomas Hendry
and Sylvia Leonard”
“Where are they now?”
“Pat moved to the USA in 1989,
and the remaining two got married in 1990.”
“Thank you. Now, I want you and
Laura to come by the...hold on: did you say Thomas Hendry wed Sylvia?”
“I did, yeah.”
“That means Sylvia became Mrs.
Hendry.”
There was no misunderstanding
here. Suzanne had bought into a character profile because of misleading
information Mrs. Hendry had purposely laid in front of her. DI Andrews
refrained from sharing this acknowledgement with Olivia. She didn’t want that
situation and the one she was party to now to get tangled up.
“As I was saying, I want you and
Laura to come by to the station and make a statement.”
“Are we required to identify the
body too?”
“No need...Mr. Cullen already did
that.”
“That fucking android: no wonder
his wife is...”
“No wonder his wife is what?”
“Nothing, it was just a slip of
the tongue.”
“Just like you mentioning the
business with Alice Thomas – I don’t think you meant to, did you.”
“No, I didn’t mean to. When do
you want us to come in to see you?”
“Tomorrow afternoon, at half past
two”
“I’ll have to square it with the
university officials, but it is possible for us to drop by.
Just as Suzanne listened to
Olivia’s acquiescence to the specific time she wanted them there, her mobile
ringtone was activated and she opted Laura’s bedroom to take the call. The
upper corridor was hardly the perfect sanctuary to be engaged in a phone
conversation without being disturbed, but Olivia was the only other person in
the house. There was no possibility of any external interruptions occurring.
“We’ve had a breakthrough” said
Josephine, before Suzanne could ask for the owner of the voice she heard.
“So have I, mum. I’ll tell you
about it on the way back to my car.”
Suzanne pushed Samantha Williams
being Laura’s actual mother ahead of the other new facts she’d brought to
light. It was the foundation for the other developments, so DI Andrews chose it
to head up this list. She was a little cautious, though. Whenever Josephine had
let her speak first in the past, it gave her freedom to say something
contradictory. The call she’d made to her daughter lasted for a minute and a
half, and Suzanne described what she’d learned as basically as she could. They
stopped short of being explanations of each fact. There had to be enough time
to exchange announcements of breakthroughs. DCI Andrews’ involved another of
Miss Williams’ colleagues, Leonora Dugdale, coming forward and stating that she
saw a young man in a red and blue hooded top following Samantha. This detail
was an anomaly in juxtaposition to what Suzanne now knew, and she was highly
intrigued by the probability of how this could fit into what Olivia Blackwell
told her. This was running through the back of her mind while she was moving
steadily through each detail. She was currently in the middle of talking about
Alice Thomas suffering the same fate as Samantha nearly thirty years ago.
“And her tongue was cut out too?”
said DCI Andrews.
“That’s what Mrs. Blackwell
said.”
DCI Andrews’ pause made her heart
sink a little deeper. The norm was for her to ponder anything she was told that
contradicted her own point of view, and then find a reason to discard it. Yet,
she gave Suzanne a mild surprise when she announced “I’m flexible: I’ll let you
pursue this line of investigation, but if it leads nowhere, I want you behind
me on this young man becoming a suspect.”
“Unless there’s a link”
“You can try to find one, DI
Andrews, but I reckon you’ll be hard pressed to find a connection.”
“But if I do.”
“If you achieve it, what I said
over ten seconds ago still stands.”
“Have you considered your lead
might be a dead-end, mum?”
In her mother’s office, Suzanne
felt safe enough to engage in some healthy insubordination. It came out as a
respectful challenge to one of DCI Andrews certainties about where this case
appeared to be going.
“Partially”
“That’s too much
self-assuredness, even from you, mum.”
“Everybody requires tools for
their profession.”
“Well, if you’re going down that
line, my favourite is comparing past and present crimes.”
Gently shrugging her shoulders,
Josephine said “That’s a tool we both have.”
“If you and I are going to follow
different leads, mum, we should each pair up with a fellow officer.”
“Pickford?”
“DC Jahil.”
Josephine wasn’t in the least
surprised by the selection. She had an inkling her daughter was, in a small
way, championing Ameera’s ambition.
“You mentioned a DCI John Bauer
on the phone.”
“Yeah, he was in charge of the
Alice Thomas case. I was going to try and see if I could find out where he’d
ended up now.”
“No need for that, DI Andrews –
he owns and runs a guest house in Morecambe.”
“When did you find that out?”
“Roughly three quarters of an
hour ago.”
“So you don’t think it’s a
dead-end either.”
“I’m reserving my judgement. What
other plans does this line on enquiry contain?”
“Bringing Mrs. Hendry, Laura and
her mum into headquarters”
“As suspects”
“Not in the case of Laura and
Olivia Blackwell. They’re coming in to make a statement.”
“But you said that Samantha
Williams turned out to be Laura’s natural mother.”
“Mr. Cullen already provided us
with a name for the victim. All we need from them is an official record for the
facts I was able to establish when I was in Kendal.”
Josephine was still busy mulling
over the revelation that Laura was really Samantha’s child. She wondered about
Mrs. Blackwell’s reasons for raising a child that wasn’t hers, unaware that
Suzanne had already gained it from Olivia herself. Thinking this pause marked
the discussion’s end, she left the DCI’s office to bring Ameera up to speed on
what the next move in the investigation was. A delay lasting half-a-minute
intervened before Josephine twigged that her deputy was absent. She dashed out
and caught up with her as she neared DC Jahil’s desk.
“Isn’t it a little late in the
day for you and Ameera to be bringing in Mrs. Hendry for questioning. It seems
a better option to do that tomorrow. She’ll be having dinner with her family
about now.”
DCI Andrews accidentally laced
her comment with the assumption Sylvia had a child, or children, of her own,
but the overall point was too sensible to be argued against successfully. The
recurrence of this fact was annoyingly impossible to avoid. Suzanne commonly
took it as red that parents will have a higher score sheet, detailing examples
when their side of the argument emerges victorious. It was hardly a competitive
situation, but the child would, eight times out of ten, lose the moral high
ground. There was no exemption from this certainty for DI Andrews.
“Sometime tomorrow it is, then.”
Josephine was then reminded of
the visit being made by Laura and Olivia Blackwell. She didn’t think her mother
was likely to forget that kind of detail, but if there was a high volume of
police work for a single day, it could easily be overlooked. Not every aspect
could be remembered by solo efforts, and sometimes an external nudge was
necessary.
“I think I should be there when
the statements are being given by these two women” said Josephine half-hoping
Suzanne wasn’t going to stride into any objection to her proposal.
“Okay, I’ll bring them to your
office when they arrive.”
Cautiously satisfied this was a
genuine sign of obedience, she lurched to the matter of the former DCI, John
Bauer. She deemed it imperative DI Andrews had some idea when this calling on
him was to occur. As if she’d somehow read her mother’s mind, she said “The day
after tomorrow. I’m going to get Ameera to arrange the visit over the phone
whilst I’m dealing with Olivia and Laura statements.” Suzanne had saved
Josephine the bother of asking that question outright.
Laura Blackwell arrived home with
a story about her friend, Stephanie Doran, having experienced attitudes from a
senior citizen that were long past their sell-by date. They were the upshot of
him nabbing an empty seat some other commuter had offered her. What made it
doubly rude was that Miss Doran was over five months pregnant. When she
complained, he ranted how he’d done his duty fighting in the Second World War,
and to the colour of her skin – a mixture of white and black. She had a
Caucasian mother and her dad hailed from Barbados. In just a few minutes, she
was faced with racial prejudices still being a social problem, even in the 21st
century. Another individual came to Stephanie’s rescue by giving up his seat.
The OAP was furious to see this happen, and he folded his arms in a manner
suggesting fierce protestation to the gentlemanly act. He’d been put out by her
presence and was glad when he reached the station he wanted to get off at. His
departure was a blessing for Stephanie and Laura too. They wanted a journey
with a pleasant atmosphere, and were only able to experience it once he’d gone.
The fellow students and co-travellers weren’t headed to the same destination.
Stephanie disembarked the carriage a couple of stops before it arrived at
Kendal, calling “Text me!” as loud as she could. She’d raised her voice because
it was at risk of being drowned out by the other people boarding and leaving
the various trains arriving here.
“Racism doesn’t go away,” said
Olivia “it just sits in a dark corner and waits for a moment to creep back into
the centre of a room.”
“Well, it certainly did on the
train back here.”
“Someone like him may come out
with the “I fought the war” speech but he forgets what set World War II off in
the first place!”
The world has moved on, he should
accept it for what it is.”
“Some people can’t, love. Shit,
even some days I’m just as bad.”
Olivia came out with a list of
aspects of today’s culture she had a hankering to change. Laura looked like she
was listening, but she was too busy with her own thoughts for what Mrs.
Blackwell was saying in order for what Mrs. Blackwell was saying to penetrate
Laura’s consciousness.
“Can I have a coffee?”
“How many did you drink at
university?”
“Three.”
“Three?”
“Okay, six.”
“I’ll make you a seventh, but
that’s it for today, Laura! Any more that you won’t get to sleep until
midnight.”
“Fair dos – that’s something I’ll
need tonight, mum.”
Although Olivia had heard Laura
say it many times, this was the first occasion in which the term of affection
seemed toxic. It was now a lie. The greeting had been soured by her being
pressed into revealing it in front of a complete stranger. The most cutting
aspect was that she had to be the one to rewrite Laura’s life in the course of
an evening.
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