Way beyond a lie, p.11
Way Beyond A Lie, page 11
Mel looked over at Amelie, who said, ‘I wasn’t here. On either occasion.’ Her tone was a little more firm than before. Mel kept looking, expecting more. Amelie drew her knees up to her chest, wrapped her arms around her shins then turned and gazed out of a window.
Despite their conversations, the fact Carla was Italian seemed to be a surprise to Didier, who also had Ross and Joe mixed up.
Didier walked them to the end of the driveway and shook hands with them both, Andrew before Mel. ‘I apologise we were unable to help you. I hope you find the lady.’ He let Mel’s hand drop away, eventually. ‘Please feel free to come to see me again.’
‘Thank you Monsieur Marconnet. We may take you up on that.’
She turned away to catch up with Andrew, who was heading for Barry’s house.
‘So what did you think of Amelie?’ she asked him. ‘Apart from the bloody obvious, that is.’
Andrew smiled. ‘I think, given her reaction, there could be just a tad more to Didier’s afternoon conversations with Carla than he told us in there.’ He put on a mock French accent. ‘And I do believe Monsieur Marconnet has a small soft spot for you, ma petite Mel.’
‘I’m not sure I noticed.’
‘Lying cow.’
‘Guilty.’
Barry Taylor opened his front door within seconds of Andrew ringing the bell. His garden was still in the design stage so perhaps he was keen to meet a plastic grass salesman. Barry was about five nine, slender, his blond hair in a stylish razor cut. He had a cheeky, infectious grin under bright blue eyes, and his accent, combined with the black and white striped football top he was wearing placed him as a son of Newcastle-upon-Tyne. Ross had said his tennis partner had just turned thirty but, based on his appearance, he could have been five years younger at least.
Mel explained the purpose of their visit and confirmed Barry hadn’t seen Carla that week. She asked him how well he knew the McKinlays.
‘I know Ross quite well, he’s a good lad. We play tennis most weekends, Saturday mornings usually. I always get stuffed.’ Andrew sniggered. ‘No, he’s top class. Played loads when he was younger apparently. He’s not that quick any more, obviously, but he plays some brilliant shots, always hits the angles. He can move me all over the court whenever he likes, especially on his serve.’ Barry added in some tennis-swing actions. ‘He can slice it way out to my backhand, what with him being a leftie—’
‘And what about Carla?’ Mel butted in, seeing that Barry was settling in to yap away for hours, and that Andrew would have loved to join in.
‘I don’t think she plays tennis.’
Andrew laughed out loud this time, and Mel cut him off at the knees with a don’t be such a tit look.
Barry was utterly oblivious. ‘Anyway, she goes to a class on a Saturday morning, I think.’ He grinned again, clearly delighted with his reasoning.
‘What I meant was,’ said Mel, her teeth not quite close enough to grit, ‘do you socialise with Ross and Carla as a couple?’
‘Not as a couple, I’m single you see.’ Mel leaned over to her right, and looked pointedly at a black and gold Michael Kors handbag on the floor by the side of the sofa. She raised one eyebrow as her gaze swung back towards Barry.
If anything, his grin was wider now. Ear-to-ear didn’t quite describe it. ‘Ah, well, I was single when I went out last night. Tomorrow, who knows?’ He glanced up at the ceiling as a new sound vibrated from one of the bedrooms. Shower-pump, thought Mel.
Barry wasn’t embarrassed in the slightest. ‘Ross and I go for a pint sometimes but only if she’s away. Carla, I mean.’
‘Only if she’s away?’ asked Andrew. ‘Is there something behind that?’
Barry’s perpetual grin faltered. He focussed on the handbag, rather than look at either of the two officers. ‘Let’s just say, Carla and I didn’t get off to a particularly good start so we don’t speak now.’
Mel leaned towards him. ‘So, tell us about the “not particularly good start”, Barry.’
He looked up again. ‘I don’t think Ross knows about this, though.’
But Mel didn’t say anything. She left him to fill the silence, which he did a few seconds later.
‘Look, I don’t think it’s a big deal. It’s just …’
Still she remained silent. Andrew was adept at reading her signals and kept schtum.
‘Christ, you don’t give much away, do you, bonny lass?’ It was the first piece of genuine Geordie vernacular he’d used in their presence.
‘No, I don’t. So you might as well tell us what happened.’
Barry shuffled in his seat. ‘I moved in about a fortnight before Ross and Carla so I was kinda sorted, and I invited them over for a drink. I don’t know why people say that, do you? Come over for a drink. I mean, nobody ever thinks it’s just for one, do they? Anyway, we had quite a few. A skinful, actually.’ He paused at the memory then carried on quickly, as if the faster pace would help somehow. ‘Ross had done most of the removal work cos Carla had been offshore, and he was quite boozy fairly early on. Maybe because he was knackered, I don’t know.
‘I had been thinking it was about time they hit the trail because Ross had passed out on the sofa.’ Mel’s eyebrows rose. ‘Well, passed out is possibly an exaggeration but he certainly fell sound asleep.’ He patted the couch next to him. ‘Just here as it happens. Carla said, what about one for the road, and when I went through to the kitchen to fix the drinks, she followed me.’ Mel figured out what was coming next and he didn’t disappoint her. ‘Not to put too fine a point on it, she came on to me. Strong, like.’
‘How strong?’ asked Andrew.
Barry hesitated again then jumped right in. ‘She was standing behind me. She put both hands round my waist and started pulling at my zip. I got a hell of a shock. I mean, that doesn’t happen every day, does it? Anyway, before I could react, she had her hand down the front of my boxers and, well, you know …’
‘So what did you do?’
‘Do? Jesus! I grabbed her hand and pulled it out. I asked her what the bloody hell she was playing at, with her husband in the next room for Chrissakes.’
‘What did she say?’
‘Something like Ross wouldn’t mind, they had an open marriage, crap like that. I didn’t believe it for a second and I told her that. Poured the drinks down the sink, and said they should probably leave.’
The shower-pump stopped and three pairs of eyes turned upwards before Mel asked, ‘And did they?’
‘Too right, and sharpish. She hauled Ross off the sofa, and dragged him out the door. He was all over the place, and Carla was clearly pissed at me. But in a cold, silent way. Know what I mean?’
Mel nodded. ‘And since then?’
Barry shrugged. ‘Hard to tell, really. Ross has been fine, which is why I think he hasn’t any idea what Carla did. Perhaps they do have an open marriage after all. It’s not something I would ask, would I? But she hasn’t spoken another word to me since that night, and I’m fine with that. Life’s too short.’
Andrew stepped in. ‘So you wouldn’t have any idea why she’s disappeared, or where she’s gone.’
‘None.’
‘And Ross hasn’t said anything to you?’
‘Nope. Nothing.’
Andrew glanced over at Mel. She gave a slight shake of her head and picked up her bag. He flipped his notebook closed and popped his pen into his inside jacket pocket.
Having said their goodbyes, they walked out to the pavement and took a few paces down the street before stopping to face each other.
‘Interesting,’ said Andrew.
‘Mmmm.’ Mel jammed her hands into her pockets. ‘So now what do we have? Do the McKinlays have an open marriage, or not?’
‘Not. He just doesn’t seem the type.’
‘Is there a type?’
‘Probably. But not Ross. He’s just too … too …’
‘Boring?’
‘I was about to say staid. And I know Carla’s quite a bit younger than him. But no.’
Mel agreed. Like most successful partnerships, she and Andrew often knocked stuff about like that, if only to rule things out. ‘Bearing in mind what Barry’s just told us about Carla and the boxers incident, do you now think she and Didier did more than drink coffee on their afternoons together?’
‘Definitely a possibility.’
She laughed. ‘Glad you’re so certain.’
‘Well, Amelie didn’t exactly sound delighted.’
‘She didn’t, did she? And do you think Barry’s story holds water?’
‘I do, actually. If he was a braggart or a story teller, he would have said he wiped the floor with Ross at tennis, not the other way round.’
‘Fair point,’ Mel conceded. Then, after a pause, ‘Carla McKinlay’s beginning to sound like she throws it about a bit.’
‘Indeed. But now it’s the older couple at number fifteen. Let’s see if she threw any in Mr Jones’s direction.’
‘That paints a lovely picture, Andrew. Thank you for that.’
‘My pleasure, Melissa. Any time.’
Chapter Twenty-Three
Ross had been sitting in his armchair all this time, watching. And thinking.
He watched the two detectives walk down the side of the Marconnet house. Then he watched until they reappeared on the driveway.
He watched them going into Barry’s. And he watched them coming out again.
He watched them while they had their chat on the pavement, although he had to lean way over on his left elbow to do that.
He watched them crossing towards Joe and Joan’s house until they disappeared from sight.
And when he had nothing more to watch, he leaned back in the armchair and closed his eyes for a few seconds.
Finally, he picked up his phone, scrolled through the few contacts he had logged, and made a call.
Chapter Twenty-Four
‘Thank you, Mr Jones. If you would ask your wife to call me in the morning, I’d be grateful.’ Mel leaned down to rub Bella’s ears before walking over to where Andrew was waiting by their car. He was smirking.
‘What?’ Mel demanded.
‘Not too much of a tart then. Poor old Joe, the only bloke at this end of the street who isn’t getting any.’
‘Enough, Andrew,’ but she was smiling too. She pulled back her left cuff. ‘It’s nearly three. What else can we do before we knock off?’
Andrew looked at his list. ‘How about you drop me at the supermarket then when I get back to the station we can compare notes and update Jeff.’ He was referring to Jeff Hunter, their DI.
‘Sounds good.’
‘Hi. Barry. It’s Ross here.’
‘Ross. How are you, man? I’ve just had the cops here, asking about Carla. They said she’s disappeared. Is that right?’
‘I’m afraid so, Barry.’ Ross went on to relate the bones of the story since Friday night. ‘So that’s about it. And listen, I’m really sorry you had to find out from the police. I would have told you myself but it seems like I’ve hardly had a spare minute since …’ Ross shuddered before picking up again. ‘Anyway, part of me says this is all a storm in a teacup. Something’s caused Carla to stay away from home but it’s nothing major and she’ll come back. And, whatever’s wrong, we can sort things out and get back to normal. Then there’s the other side, the other possibility. But I don’t really want to think about that.’ Ross paused because he feared he might lose it, then recovered enough to continue. ‘Until I absolutely have to, that is.’
‘What are we like here, Ross? We’re like two bloody women nattering away on the phone, when we live across the road from each other. Do you want to come over, or how about a pint? Maybe go for some food, or something?’
Ross was moving through the house as they were talking. He leaned against the kitchen door, surveying the debris from the previous night’s shenanigans. ‘Thanks Barry, but I have a fair bit of tidying up to do. Martin was here last night, and we had several over the eight. A pint’s the last thing I need just now. Sorry.’
Barry laughed. ‘Enough said. I’ll leave you to it but shout if there’s anything I can do, or if you change your mind. I’m in all night. And obviously, this goes without saying, let me know when Carla comes home, will you?’
Ross noticed his friend had said ‘when’ instead of ‘if’, and realised he was definitely about to lose it this time. So he huckled Barry off the phone, promising to keep in touch.
Then, with tears nearly blinding him, he ran the hot tap into the kitchen sink, and began clearing a space to work in.
Chapter Twenty-Five
‘Mel. Come and have a look at this, will you? I think I might’ve spotted something.’
When Andrew had come back into the station he told Mel that the supermarket could only provide an excerpt from the car park CCTV. There had been a technical issue involving the in-store footage but the store’s IT support expected to have a DVD ready at some point the following day. Then Andrew had sat down to review the external footage.
Mel spun her chair round, and zipped the short distance across the floor to her colleague’s desk. His monitor was displaying a grainy image of the car park and he moved to one side so she could see it. He left it paused while he explained to Mel what she was looking at.
He pointed his pen at the screen. ‘That’s the McKinlays’ Golf. It’s just been driven into the car park, and the driver will reverse it into that space there. The quality of the image isn’t brilliant, mainly because of the distance from the camera but also because of the rain. But you’ll be able to see the driver getting out of the car and walking directly towards the camera.’
Andrew pressed play, and Mel watched the scene unfold to where Ross walked out of shot at the foot of the screen, leaving the car isolated in its spot. The passenger door remained closed. After a couple of minutes, the camera panned to cover a different area of the car park. After a similar time period, it returned to its original position, bringing the Golf back into view.
Mel shrugged, but kept her eyes on the film. ‘Okay, maybe it’s just me, but what am I supposed to be seeing here?’
Andrew ran the footage back to the car reversing into the space. ‘It’s not what you do see, it’s what you don’t.’ He used his pen as a pointer again. ‘Watch. The car’s in the space now, Ross gets out, walks away. Now, keep an eye on the back of the car. With most cars, when you lock them with the remote, the hazards blink.’
After a few moments, Mel smiled. ‘But not here, suggesting he didn’t lock the car, because someone was still inside.’
‘Precisely.’
‘And that particular car’s lights definitely flash when you lock it?’
‘They do. I just called the VW dealership down at Seafield. They told me the Golf has had flashing indicators on remote locking for at least nine or ten years.’
‘So maybe our Mr McKinlay’s telling the truth. His wife was still in the car.’
‘Well, there’s no footage of her getting out but as you saw, that camera covers two different parts of the car park so she could have got out while the camera wasn’t on the car. Plus, I’ve watched it for a good ten minutes after this. There was a big Tonka toy in the way for a while, the driver made a right pig’s ear of parking it. And a couple of supermarket vans drove past too.’ He laid his pen down on the desk. ‘So, not conclusive.’
‘Maybe not. But that was a good spy. Well done you. Now, let’s go and speak to the boss, so I can tell him what a clever little detective you are.’
Chapter Twenty-Six
Detective Inspector Jeff Hunter was one of those impossibly tall, spare men, who seemed not to be carrying a spare ounce of fat. When he sat down, as he was just now, it seemed to take an age while his legs and arms arranged themselves into their resting positions. His right foot looked as though it was looped at least twice round his left ankle, and his shoulders appeared no wider than his hips. His face was a collection of angles and planes, all of them severe. He wore wire-framed glasses through which hazel eyes gazed benignly at their subjects. His mind was far from benign, however, as many a suspect or interviewee had discovered to their cost. Often fatally. Jeff had listened intently while Mel and Andrew updated him. He asked questions at key points, and was satisfied with the answers.
A mutual respect existed between Jeff and his team. He gave them just the right amount of rope but always stepped in immediately if any of them were likely to end up with their necks stretched, and their feet dangling and kicking. In return, they gave him zero crap, kept him well in the loop, and knew not to bug him with every if, but and maybe.
Mel was his senior DS; they’d worked together for several years and rubbed along just fine. They disagreed plenty but hadn’t ever fallen out. She was correct far more often than not, but that didn’t stop Jeff hitting her with devil’s advocate questions. Because if she could convince him she was correct, on whatever count, they could both be fairly certain she was on the right lines with her investigations. That suited them both perfectly and kept their clearance rates high enough to avoid hassle from above.
Jeff had been impressed with Andrew since the young DC had joined the team six months earlier. He could see Andrew was benefitting from Mel’s mentoring, they were developing into a terrific pairing.
Mel looked out of the window at a pair of gulls squabbling on the roof opposite while her partner explained about Ross parking the Golf.
‘Nice one, Andrew.’ Jeff tapped his lip with a pen. ‘It’s a strange one, then, eh?’ He went quiet for a few seconds. ‘Let me see if I understand all this, and you tell me if I’m off-beam anywhere.’ He carried on without waiting for them to concur. ‘Right from the outset we’ve got things that are a bit odd. McKinlay says his wife drove to the store but we’ve got film of him walking away from the car, driver’s side. No one got out of the passenger’s seat, and it appears he didn’t lock the car. He parks outside in the rain just because he pranged it against a pillar sometime in the dim and distant.’ Jeff raised his eyebrows. ‘We can’t be certain that Mrs McKinlay, Carla, was even in the store because we don’t have her on the external CCTV, and none of the staff you’ve spoken to actually laid eyes on her. So, questions. Does he strike you as being scatty enough to forget who drove?’
