The Seagull Page 6

  ‘Robbie was out on the hills with John Brace the day that he disappeared?’ Vera sipped her drink like a lady.

  ‘With Brace and another man. Hector-something. He was a bit older. Robert had given me his phone number because he spent so much time there, and I called him that night when Robert didn’t come home.’

  Joe realized Vera hadn’t given her surname when she introduced herself. He wondered if he’d have been that clever.

  ‘And that was his normal Sunday routine? Going out into the hills with Hector and John.’

  ‘But he was always home for his dinner,’ Eleanor said quickly. ‘He never missed Sunday evening with me. It was our special time together.’

  ‘Did you notice anything different about your son in the days before he disappeared?’ Vera sounded apologetic. ‘I know it’s a long time ago to remember.’

  ‘He was scared.’ The little woman seemed close to losing control, for the first time in the encounter.

  ‘You’re sure? That’s not just you looking back in hindsight?’

  ‘I knew something was wrong at the time. I asked him what it was. I wondered if there was something at work. By then Swan’s had shut, but he was working for the administrators.’

  ‘And what did he say?’ Although Vera spoke loud enough for the woman to hear, her voice was gentle, persuasive.

  ‘That there was just something he needed to sort out.’

  ‘No details?’

  Eleanor shook her head. ‘He wouldn’t talk to me, said it was nothing for me to worry about. But I was worried. I could hear him walking backwards and forwards in his bedroom all night. He didn’t seem to sleep at all that last couple of days. I thought a day in the hills would relax him.’

  ‘Did anyone call at the house in the days leading up to his disappearance?’ Vera kept her voice chatty now. ‘John Brace maybe?’

  ‘Somebody came. A man I didn’t recognize.’

  ‘Can you describe him?’ Vera paused. ‘Again, I know it was a long time ago.’

  ‘But I remembered him when Robert disappeared, and I fixed him in my mind then in case it might be useful. Tall. Well spoken. Not a local accent. A bit younger than Robert, I thought, but confident. A gentleman. Robert seemed pleased to see him.’

  Joe sensed a release of tension in Vera, a feeling of relief. Perhaps she’d been expecting a description of Hector and this didn’t match.

  ‘No name, I suppose.’

  Eleanor shook her head.

  ‘Did Robert tell you why he’d come to visit?’

  ‘No. In those last weeks before his disappearance he didn’t talk to me much at all.’ She sounded suddenly very frail and sad.

  Vera got to her feet. ‘I’m sorry to have dragged this all back, after so much time.’

  ‘No!’ Eleanor reached out and her claw-like hand gripped Vera’s wrist. ‘I’m glad you came. It’s what I’ve been hoping for. It’s not as if I’d forgotten him. Sometimes I think the Lord’s only keeping me alive so I can give him a decent burial.’ She pulled herself to her feet with the aid of the Zimmer. ‘Find him,’ she demanded. ‘Find my boy.’

  Chapter Nine

  Vera sat in the car, looked back at the tidy house and saw Eleanor Marshall peering through the net curtains; the woman gave a little wave.

  ‘Poor soul. She thinks we’ll get her son back for her.’

  ‘And will we?’ Joe Ashworth put the car into gear and drove off.

  ‘Aye, I think we will. Enough of him for her to bury, at least. And we’ll get his killer too.’

  ‘If he’s still alive.’

  Vera thought for a moment. She turned towards her sergeant, who was focused on the road ahead. ‘You think it might have been Hector?’

  ‘Isn’t that what you’ve been thinking?’

  Vera didn’t answer. She tried to remember Hector as he’d been in the mid-nineties. A big man, strong, already drinking too much, given to outbursts of temper. But sentimental too. He’d spent a fortune at the vet on a dog that he’d loved, and the only time she’d seen him cry was when it had to be put down. She thought he’d probably cried when his wife had died but he’d done that in secret, his companion a bottle of whisky, not his young daughter. It occurred to her that Brace and Marshall might have met her mother. They’d have been lads then, but she’d never found out when the relationship between Hector and them had begun. Perhaps it had been when the boys were still at school. Maybe she’d ask Brace when she next visited him. Or maybe not.

  ‘Nah,’ she said. ‘I don’t think Hector had it in him to be a killer.’

  ‘Where are we going?’ The car was idling at traffic lights. ‘Back to the station?’

  She thought for a moment. ‘Let’s remind ourselves of how the other half live, shall we? We’ll see if the lovely Judith Brace is at home.’

  ‘Ponteland’s a bit of a way to go, if she’s out. Should we call ahead and make an appointment?’ That was Joe all over, never wanting to take a risk, even about something small like this.

  ‘Let’s chance it,’ Vera said. ‘I’d like to surprise her.’

  ‘Did you know her? When Brace was still on the job?’ Joe had already followed orders and was taking the coast road west towards Newcastle. Vera could see cranes on the river and the buildings that had once housed Swan Hunter’s offices.

  ‘I met her a few times. Charity dinners. The Christmas bash. Spouses weren’t encouraged to socialize much in those days.’ They felt more like boys’ nights out. Husbands let off the leash for the evening, any female officer fair game. Though they’d have to be pretty pissed to make a pass at me. And anyway they wouldn’t have dared.

  ‘Wives are still not encouraged much to that sort of do,’ Joe said. Vera thought Sal had nagged him about that and asked why she couldn’t be included in work-nights out. ‘What did you make of Judith?’

  ‘She seemed like a trophy wife before they became fashionable,’ Vera said. ‘Bonny. If you like them blonde and skinny. Confident. She’d been to one of those private girls’ schools in Jesmond, and it showed. She knew she’d never have to worry about her future and there’d always be a job for her in Daddy’s business.’ Vera remembered the last time she’d seen Judith. Vera had gone with a member of the investigating team to tell the woman that her husband had been arrested. It had been early morning and Judith had still been in her dressing gown. No make-up, and middle-aged by then, but she’d still been lovely. And gracious. She’d made them real coffee and thanked them for coming to let her know before the press got hold of the story.

  ‘This must have come as a shock,’ Vera had said when Judith had let them in.

  ‘No. Not really.’ The woman had seemed frozen inside.

  Now Vera remembered a story that had spread around the station long before Brace’s arrest. After years of trying for a child, Judith had given birth to a stillborn baby. Perhaps nothing would shock you after that.

  * * *

  John and Judith had probably moved into the house when it was new. It was surrounded by a brick wall topped with an ornate wrought-iron fence and the garden was landscaped with trees and shrubs. It would be much grander than anything a cop could normally afford. A classy 4x4 stood on the gravel drive.

  ‘It looks as if she’s in.’ The house was quite a way out of the town and Vera thought it would be too far to walk to the shops for a carton of milk.

  Joe drove the pool car through the gates and pulled up next to Judith’s Toyota. He seemed intimidated. He was often intimidated by wealth and the educated middle classes. When Vera knocked at the door he stood behind her.

  Perhaps Judith had heard the car, because she opened the door immediately. This time she was wearing make-up. Subtle and expensive. Trousers that fitted like a glove and showed a body that had spent too much time in the gym. A sweater that was probably cashmere. Little pearl earrings and a string of pearls at the neck.

  ‘Yes?’ But the question wasn’t aggressive and Vera thought she caught a spark of recognitio
n.

  ‘You probably don’t remember me, pet.’ Laying on the accent. ‘Vera Stanhope. Inspector, these days. This is my sergeant, Joe Ashworth.’

  ‘Of course, Vera.’ Still gracious. ‘Come in.’ She was nervous, though. She twisted the left earring.

  They sat in the kitchen with a view over the garden to the back. It was as big as an allotment, with a veg patch and a fruit cage. A couple of apple trees beyond. A lawn, where once they’d have thought kids might play.

  ‘How can I help you? You do know that John and I are no longer married? And I thought that investigation was over years ago.’ She was fiddling with a coffee machine and had her back to them. ‘John must be eligible for parole soon.’

  ‘I spoke to John earlier this week,’ Vera said. ‘He’s not a well man these days.’

  ‘MS. I know. Such a pity.’ Judith could have been talking about a stranger.

  ‘We’ve had some new information about Robert Marshall. Robbie. And we’re looking into his disappearance again.’

  ‘After all this time?’ Judith paused. ‘Is that why you went into Warkworth to see John?’

  Vera gave a little smile. ‘You were married to the job long enough to know that I can’t give away information about an ongoing investigation.’ She paused. ‘How well did you know Robbie?’

  The woman shrugged, dismissive. ‘Not very well at all. He was an old school pal of John’s. We had very little in common.’

  ‘He shared your husband’s interest in natural history.’

  ‘They still had the enthusiasms of schoolboys. Collecting birds’ eggs, chasing after butterflies.’ She smiled. ‘But perhaps all men struggle to grow up.’ Joe Ashworth might not have been in the room.

  ‘You had met Robbie Marshall, though?’

  ‘Once or twice. He came here occasionally when he and John were planning expeditions to the wild. To the Scottish islands.’ To steal seabird eggs. ‘Or further afield. Of course I’d always ask him to stay for supper, but usually he said he had to get home. His mother would be expecting him. That was the only social contact we ever had.’

  ‘What did you make of him?’

  ‘I don’t think I made anything of him.’ The words were sharper now. ‘He was an acquaintance of my husband, that was all. I lived my own life, had my own friends.’

  ‘We think he might have been murdered.’

  Judith took a breath. ‘Well, he lived in Wallsend, didn’t he? I suspect he mixed with a few unsavoury characters. Daddy was a magistrate until he was forced to retire. I know drugs are a terrible problem in parts of North Tyneside.’

  ‘Robbie was an accountant at Swan Hunter’s.’ A slight exaggeration of his role at the yard, but Vera felt an irrational need to stand up for Eleanor Marshall’s son. ‘I don’t think he counted heroin-dealers among his friends.’

  Judith knew she’d been rebuked and smiled. ‘Of course, I don’t mean to stereotype, Inspector.’

  Ah, so it’s Inspector now, not Vera. Putting me in my place. Even her scally husband made superintendent.

  Vera’s phone pinged. A text from Holly, who was back from her visit to Patty Keane. The name of Patty’s birth mother. Vera glanced at the message, then turned her attention back to Judith Brace.

  ‘Robbie’s mam called you, the night he went missing,’ she said.

  ‘Yes, the police asked about it at the time. I gave a statement. There’ll be a record somewhere. You can’t expect me to remember the details after more than twenty years.’

  ‘Of course not, pet.’ But Robbie’s mother was still mourning and she remembered everything. She remembered making that phone call. ‘You told Mrs Marshall that John was out on the coast talking to an informant.’

  ‘Did I?’ As if it was no longer of any interest to her at all. ‘Then I suppose it was true.’

  There was a silence. Outside, a long way off, a neighbour was cutting the grass and the mower hummed like an angry insect. ‘John must have been upset,’ Vera said. ‘His best friend going missing.’

  ‘I’m not sure Robbie was his best friend. They shared an interest and John always liked an audience. He always needed someone to show off to. Admirers.’ Judith collected the coffee mugs and put them in the sink. A not-so-subtle hint that she’d had enough. ‘Actually I don’t think he had much in common with Marshall, outside the birding.’

  ‘So he didn’t seem worried when Robbie disappeared?’

  Judith wasn’t sure how to answer that. She needed to think about it. ‘As I said, Inspector, it was a long time ago. I’m sure John did what he could to track Robbie down.’ A pause, and then, as if the idea had just come to her, ‘Wasn’t there some thought that he’d been stealing from his employer and had run away to Europe?’

  ‘I think that was one of the theories,’ Vera said, ‘but no theft came to light.’

  ‘You’re best talking to John then.’ Judith had regained her composure. ‘If there’s nothing else, Inspector, I have to go. A council meeting.’

  ‘Of course.’ Vera could feel Joe Ashworth thinking this was all a waste of time. They’d have done better to go straight back to the police station in Kimmerston. She glanced down at her phone again. ‘One last thing, Mrs Brace. Does the name Mary-Frances Lascuola mean anything to you?’

  It was the last thing the woman had been expecting and the colour drained from her face. Vera almost felt sorry for her. Almost.

  ‘I see you do recognize that name, even after all these years. It’s not one you’d forget, is it? Something so exotic.’

  ‘I believe she was an addict,’ Judith said. ‘One of my husband’s informants. In the early days, when he worked more in the field.’

  ‘Is that what he called her? His informant? Perhaps she was the person John was meeting, the night Robbie Marshall went missing. But according to her daughter, Mary-Frances was much more than that. Apparently she was the love of your husband’s life.’

  The woman collapsed back onto the high stool where she’d been sitting, all thought of a council meeting forgotten. ‘She had a daughter?’

  Vera didn’t answer. She didn’t want Judith Brace poking around in Patty’s life. She should never have allowed herself to be provoked into mentioning her. ‘Do you know what happened to Mary-Frances?’

  Judith straightened her back, pulled her handbag from her knee and took out a lipstick and compact mirror. She replied only once she’d applied the lipstick, pressed her lips together to make sure it was even. ‘Of course not! My husband mixed with lots of women of that kind.’

  ‘What kind would that be?’

  ‘Criminals,’ Judith spat back. ‘Low-lifes. He spent so much of his time with criminals that eventually he became one himself. That’s why he’s in prison, Inspector. That’s why I’m no longer married to him. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have that meeting to attend.’ She almost pushed them out of the door.

  As Joe drove back, Vera was lost in thought and only noticed their surroundings when they hit the dual carriageway out of the town. ‘That’s the airport. Less than ten minutes from Brace’s house.’

  ‘What are you thinking?’

  ‘If Robbie Marshall was visiting John Brace the night he vanished into thin air, it wouldn’t take long to dump his car.’ She knew it couldn’t prove anything, but she hugged the information to her as another interesting link.

  ‘Why would Judith lie? After all this time she’d have nothing to lose.’ Vera could tell that Joe Ashworth was impressed by Judith. He was easily taken in by classy women.

  ‘Only a charge of perjury,’ Vera said. ‘If she’d lied at the time.’ She thought of Judith serving time in prison and gave a little smile. Classy women didn’t impress her at all.

  Chapter Ten

  Saturday morning. Patty could never work out whether she found the weekends harder than school days or less hassle. There was always the dreadful rush to get out of the house on weekdays, but then at least she had a few hours to herself before she had to fetch Archie from school. J
onnie and Jen pretty much looked after themselves at weekends but Archie was a nightmare. Hyperactive and impossible to control. He might listen to his father more, but Gary never made any effort to see the kids and he’d never paid a penny in maintenance. It would be great to have a break from them at the weekends, and the kids would love to spend a bit of time with their father, to kick a football around in the park or go on a trip to the pictures. Wasn’t that what other divorced dads did?

  Patty knew that Gary was living in Bebington. He had a little shop where he did up computers and sold them on. He’d always been a bit of a geek where technology was concerned, and she missed him now whenever there was a glitch with the kids’ tablets or phones. There was a flat over the shop and Gary lived there. She knew what it looked like because he’d had the shop when they were still married. He’d rented out the flat then, for a bit of extra cash, and she’d been in once to clean it before there was a new tenant. It was small – only one bedroom – but cosy enough. Sometimes, in her head, she went to see him. She’d given up the car when she was first ill, but she knew there was a bus from Kimmerston Front Street. She’d looked up the times. She knew this obsession about Gary was doing her no good. Thoughts of him clogged her brain and stopped her thinking of anything else. Made her self-absorbed and kept her from focusing on the children. In her heart she knew she’d never get him back. But it was better to have a fantasy of a future with him than the reality of a future without him. Patty had never been much good at facing reality.

  Jen was still in bed. At weekends, she seldom emerged much before midday. Patty thought her daughter already behaved like a teenager without the rest of the family noticing. The boys were playing a computer game. Patty went upstairs and had a shower, got dressed and gathered up the boys’ clothes, which seemed to have taken up the whole of their bedroom floor space, to put in the wash. She felt better when the place didn’t look such a mess.