Hushabye (3 page)

Gemma thought for a moment. “Not long. Only a couple of months.”

“Did Mrs Fullman need a lot of help with the baby? He’s very young.” In her mind’s eye, Kate could see a small, crumpled face, eyes tight shut, black birth hair in a fluffy corona. She cleared her throat. “Did – did she have a difficult birth?”

“I don’t know,” said Gemma, looking offended. “She didn’t talk about it with
me
. I don’t think she even wanted a nanny, to be honest, Nick is the one who got Dita to come. It’s what you do when you’re rich, isn’t it? Get help even if you don’t need it.” She clicked her fingernails on the edge of her laptop, an irritating, scuttering sound. “Nick’s got money to burn. He just spends it for the sake of it.”

Kate nodded. She eased forward and stood up, feeling that she’d got enough to be going on with for a while. Then she sat down again.

“What do you think happened last night, Gemma?” she asked.

“Me?” said Gemma. She looked startled, then frightened. “I don’t know. How would I know?”

“Do you have any ideas at all?”

The mascara-laded eyelashes blinked rapidly. Then Gemma turned back to her laptop. Her shoulders were rigid. “Some paedo, wasn’t it?” she said. She didn’t look at Kate. “You hear about it all the time, paedophiles snatching kids.”

“Very rarely babies, and very rarely are children taken from their own beds.”

Gemma shrugged, still turned away.

“Well, you asked me what I thought,” she said, with some hostility.

Kate stood up again. “And Dita?” she said.

Gemma shot her a hunted glance. Again, she looked frightened.

“I don’t know,” she said in a small voice. “She must have just got in – in his way.”

Chapter Three

Kate and Olbeck drove back to the station in Olbeck’s car while Anderton followed them in his own vehicle. Kate stared unseeing out of the window at the bleak landscape, her mind running over her conversation with Gemma.

There was clearly no love lost between Gemma and her employer’s wife, but was that significant? Probably not. So Casey hadn’t wanted a nanny? Why had Nick employed one? Was it just, as Gemma suggested, that he could afford it? She dismissed the thoughts from her mind as they joined the ring road that encircled the town, knowing that they were nearly at the station.

Kate looked with interest at the buildings and people of Abbeyford. She’d taken a risk, taking a job here – she knew no one, she knew nothing about the town. Her flat was a good hour and a half’s drive from the police station. Would that become a problem? She didn’t want to leave her flat, she loved it, but if it was necessary for her career, then that was a step she was willing to take.

Abbeyford was a market town that had grown up around a tiny collection of medieval buildings, the last remnants of a vanished monastery that had once provided alms and charity to the poor of the county.  Now the high street was lined with the usual coffee shops, charity shops, supermarkets and the odd, struggling independent store. There was a handsome Victorian town hall, a modern library, two secondary schools, and plenty of good and not-so-good pubs.

At the police station, a charmless, redbrick sixties building, Anderton assembled his team for a debriefing session. Kate, again feeling like the new girl at school, took a seat and fixed her eyes on the DCI. She was bothered again by that flash of attraction she’d had before, when he’d shaken her hand in the Fullmans’ kitchen. She made an effort to concentrate on what he was saying.

“We’re assuming the murder took place as incidental to the kidnapping,” he said, gesturing to the crime scene photographs affixed to the whiteboard. “But should we assume that? Is it possible that the real motive for the crime was the murder of Dita Olgweisch and the kidnapping of Charlie Fullman is incidental to
that
?

“It’s possible,” said Olbeck. “But where’s the motive?”

“Exactly, Mark,” said Anderton. “But I’m trying to make it clear that we can’t take anything for granted here. It could be a kidnapping for money, although as yet there’s been no ransom note or demand that we know of. It could be an abduction with a sexual motive, God forbid. It could be for another reason. Dita Olgweisch could have been killed accidentally. She could have been assisting the intruder. Or she could have been the primary target. How long had she worked for the Fullmans? DS Redman?”

Kate sat up straighter.

“Gemma Phillips says not long – two months. It seems to be Nick Fullman who employed her – I mean, it was at his request, rather than his wife’s.”

“Okay,” said Anderton. “We’ll need to talk to the Fullmans again, in much more detail. DS Olbeck, DS Redman, you’ll accompany me on that trip. We’ll go back this afternoon.”

Kate watched. As Anderton talked, he had a habit of running his hands through his hair, tousling it roughly. For a man of fifty-plus, he had a good head of hair, grey as it was. He paced the confines of the crowded office and his team watched his every move. Kate was struck with the contrast of the last case in her previous job in Bournemouth, the murder of a middle-aged school teacher by her ex-husband. There, as the DCI had talked, her colleagues had surreptitiously checked their phones, whispered to one another, stared out of the window. Here, every eye was riveted on Anderton. Each officer sat alertly, even if leaning against their desks or straddling an office chair.
He has charisma
, she thought.
Damn
.

She dragged her attention back to what he was saying.

“Let’s look into Olgweisch’s background. Where did she come from, references, previous work history, does she have a boyfriend, etc, etc. Her parents have been informed and should be arriving from Poland in the next few days. They might be able to tell us more. What else?”

“The neighbours are being interviewed,” said Olbeck. “As of yet, no one’s seen anything of interest but it’s early days.”

“Fine. We’ll need to collect statements from all the near neighbours, any other staff, the secretary and perhaps business associates of Nick Fullman.” Anderton paused. “Do a bit of digging into his background, his business.”

A DC with a head of vivid red curls raised her hand.

“Are the parents under suspicion, guv?” she asked.

There was no sound in the room, but Kate thought she could perceive a tightening of shoulders, a raised alertness in the people present. Anderton was silent for a moment. Then he spoke in a slow, deliberate tone.

“Everyone in that house – everyone with
access
to that house – is under suspicion. That goes without saying. But I don’t want anyone thinking that it’s an open and shut case. It’s not. We have no idea, at this stage, as to what happened. But.” He paused and looked around the room, looking everyone in the eye, one by one. “I can’t emphasise enough how delicately we must approach this. I don’t want anyone steaming in and upsetting anyone with clumsy innuendo or their own prejudices. We take it very carefully. Do you understand me?”

“Yes sir,” murmured Kate, part of the chorus.

“Good.” He took his hand down from above his ear, releasing his hair. “Now everyone go and get some lunch. Redman, Olbeck, meet me back here at two. Thank you all.”

He didn’t exactly sweep from the room, but there was a sense, when the door shut behind him, that some huge surge of energy had dissipated. Kate turned to her new desk, blowing out her cheeks. All of a sudden, she felt exhausted. An unsatisfactory night’s sleep due to new job nerves combined with the early morning start, the emotional maelstrom of the case, having to present the best side of herself to all her new colleagues... she fought the urge to put her head down on the keyboard and sleep.

“Canteen?” said Olbeck, appearing at her shoulder and making her jump.

“Sorry?”

“Fancy the canteen for lunch?”

Kate grinned tiredly. “Only if you can show me where it is.”

“Hasn’t anyone given you the tour yet?”

“Nope. But it doesn’t matter. I pick things up pretty quickly.”

Olbeck looked at her appraisingly. “I’m sure you do.”

They began to walk towards the door. Kate made a mental note to introduce herself to the rest of the team when they got back, as no one had yet done that either.

*

When they arrived back at the Fullmans’ house that afternoon, Gemma Phillips opened the door to them. Her elaborate hairstyle was still immaculate, her make-up still a powdery mask across her face. She showed them through to a different room, a more formal type of living room that led off the cavernous hallway.

“Casey’s lying down,” she said after showing them in. “She took a tranquilliser and crashed out. She’s totally out of it, I’m afraid.”

“We will need to talk to her,” said Anderton. “But perhaps Mr Fullman could come and see us in the meantime.”

“He’s on a conference call at the moment.” She saw the look on their faces and said hurriedly, “But I can go and get him.”

“A conference call!” said Kate as soon as Gemma had left the room. “What’s the matter with the guy? His baby son has been abducted, his wife’s prostrated, and he still has time to take a conference call?”

“Clearly–” said Anderton but could say nothing more as footsteps were heard coming back towards them through the hallway.

When Nick Fullman entered the room, Kate was reminded of two things. One, that he was very good looking. He had the cheekbones of a male model, the tall, muscular body of a professional athlete. His height and slimness were emphasised by the excellent cut of the expensive suit he wore. Two, she disliked him. Always one to examine her feelings, she acknowledged the emotion, held it up for examination. Why? He was insensitive and work-obsessed, yes. Was that the real reason? She didn’t think so.

He was a fake, that was why. Working class origins hidden under a put-on accent and middle-class trappings. She couldn’t have said how she knew that, but she did.
You know that you think that because you’re just the same
. Kate took a deep breath and turned her attention back to the matter at hand.

Fullman took a seat in front of the large picture window. With the light behind him, it was difficult to clearly make out his expression. Was that deliberate? Did he really have something to hide?
Everyone’s got something to hide, Kate
.

Anderton asked him about the sequences of events of the previous evening, taking him back through the hours before Charlie’s disappearance and Dita’s body were discovered. Fullman’s story was unremarkable. He’d worked until nine o’clock the previous evening, the majority of it spent at the new development’s offices in Wallingham. He’d then had a drink in a nearby bar with a friend, “a business acquaintance” as he’d put it, before returning home at eleven thirty.

“We’ll need to talk to your business acquaintance,” said Anderton. “Can your wife or someone else confirm the time you arrived home?”

Fullman looked wary.

“Dita opened the door to me. Casey was giving Charlie a bottle or something but she came out after she’d settled him and said goodnight.”

“You didn’t go to bed yourself?”

“Not for another hour or so. I had some work to do.”

“A long day,” said Anderton in a neutral tone. As if coppers knew nothing about long days or nights of work.

Fullman half smiled. “That’s the way you make money.”

Anderton nodded. “I can see that you’re a wealthy man, Mr Fullman. Do you think there’s a possibility that your son has been kidnapped?”

“My God, I don’t know.”

“Has there been any ransom note? Any calls from people claiming to be holding your son?”

Fullman was shaking his head slowly. “No, no, nothing like that. Nothing at all.” His phone rang suddenly, and he snatched at it, as if it were a reflexive action. After a second of staring at the screen, he pressed a button and the ringing stopped. “Sorry, what were you saying?”

“Have you received any suspicious calls? Any messages or notes or emails?”

“No. No, I don’t think so.” He went to the door and shouted. “Gemma! Come in here a second, would you?”

There was a quick tapping of high heels in the hallway outside, and Gemma Phillips put her head around the door. She looked flushed.

“Yes, Nick?”

“The police are asking if there’s been any strange calls.” He looked to Anderton as if for guidance. “About Charlie. Asking for a ransom.”

Gemma’s eyes widened.

“
Ransom
calls? Charlie’s been
kidnapped
?”

“No, Miss Phillips,” interjected Anderton quickly. “We’re following up several lines of enquiry. Have there been any strange calls or messages that you’re aware of?”

Gemma shook her head. She looked half appalled, half excited.

“No, nothing.”

Nick Fullman sat down on one of the sofas abruptly and put his head in his hands. Gemma hesitated and crossed the room to sit down next to him and put her arms around him.

“I’m so sorry, Nick,” she said, rocking him. Kate watched her closely. There was something slightly unsettling about her expression, something slightly too much of the cat that got the cream.

Kate cleared her throat. “Can I get your wife, sir? Do you need a moment?”

Nick looked up and then got up, dislodging Gemma’s arms. She sat back, clearly trying to appear unruffled.

“I’m all right,” he said. “This is just such a nightmare. I can’t believe it’s happening.”

Anderton nodded.

“We won’t keep you much longer, sir. Could you just tell me whether Charlie has a passport?”

Nick stared. “I don’t know. I don’t think so. He’s only three months old.”

“Of course, it’s not very likely, but we just have to ascertain the facts. Would your wife know?”

Nick nodded and shrugged at the same time. He sat back down on the edge of the sofa, some feet away from Gemma, staring at the floor.

“I’ll check,” said Olbeck.

“No, don’t worry,” said Kate, quickly. “I’ll talk to her.”

Kate found the bedroom, knocked gently at the door, and then entered the room without waiting for an answer. Given what Gemma had said, she expected to find the woman inside fast asleep, but Casey was awake and sitting up. Kate sat on the edge of the bed; it was enormous, an acre of white linen and silk coverlet and scattered pillows.