Gone Astray Page 5

  ‘Why’s that?’

  And there they were: his first words to her. No recrimination, no aggression. Not even a hint of sarcasm. Maggie felt her confidence rise. Maybe it would be fine.

  ‘Rosie doesn’t like her mum going in her bedroom, so Mrs Kinnock isn’t sure where anything is kept and can’t tell if there’s anything missing. It sounds like their relationship can be fraught at times. Mrs Kinnock says their conversation this morning was minimal.’

  ‘I asked her earlier if she thought Rosie might’ve run away but she said no,’ said Umpire.

  ‘Even if she ran away of her own accord, that doesn’t explain the blood on the lawn,’ said Matheson. ‘What we’ve found suggests a fairly significant loss and if it’s not hers someone else was hurt here this morning.’

  ‘How soon until we know if it’s hers?’ Maggie asked Matheson.

  ‘It’ll be a few hours until we can say for sure, but it’s definitely human: the peroxidase test came up positive. There’s a spatter line too, down towards those firs.’

  Maggie saw a line of markers on the grass indicating where the blood was. The trail led to a row of fir trees at the bottom of the garden.

  ‘Behind them is a fence approximately two metres high,’ Matheson added. ‘There’s blood smeared across the top and down both sides. Rosie – if it is her blood – must’ve gone over it.’

  ‘She only five foot one,’ said Umpire. ‘Could she have climbed it on her own, with an injury?’

  ‘More likely dragged over.’ Matheson grimaced. ‘We’re checking the panels for fibres and DNA. On the other side of the fence there’s a pathway separating the houses on this side from the back gardens of the ones in the next street. One end of the path comes out by the security gate at the start of Burr Way, the other leads to a meadow. So far we’ve only found a couple of drops of blood on the pathway, which makes me wonder if the wound had been staunched by that point, but we’re still looking.’ He walked down the steps from the terrace and dug the plastic-covered toecap of his boot into the lawn. ‘Our biggest obstacle is the hardness of the ground. Thanks to this dry spell, moisture is being quickly absorbed. It’s not too bad with the patch by the blanket, because that’s quite large, but it’s harder finding smaller drops.’

  Maggie didn’t imagine they’d have much luck with eyewitnesses either. The Kinnocks’ garden was far too secluded to be overlooked. The bushes bordering either side of the lawn were so dense she couldn’t tell what was behind them, fence or wall. Between the tops of the firs, where the branches narrowed to a point, she could make out the slate-tiled roof of a house on the other side of the pathway. But it was too far away for whoever lived there to have heard a thing, let alone seen what happened.

  ‘Any other signs of a struggle?’ she asked.

  ‘Not immediately,’ said Matheson. ‘The mother says the rug was laid out neatly when she came out.’

  ‘There’s no CCTV footage of Rosie going missing either,’ said Umpire. ‘The alarm system either went down or was switched off just after ten thirty a.m., including the cameras set up to monitor out here. I’ve not seen it yet, but apparently the last recorded footage of Rosie shows her going inside the house from the garden and she’s alone.’

  Matheson checked his watch as he returned to where they stood. ‘It’s five forty-five p.m., which means we’ve got three hours or so at most before the light fades.’

  ‘Keep going for as long as you can, Mal,’ said Umpire. He turned to Maggie. ‘I need to speak to Mrs Kinnock again.’

  ‘Yes, sir. She’s got a neighbour with her, but I can get rid of her and then she’s yours.’

  ‘Ten minutes?’

  Maggie nodded, painfully aware of how forced the exchange was. There was once a time when she would have asked the DCI how he was, when he’d have certainly asked the same of her. They had always been comfortable in one another’s company and she’d liked it when they talked about topics other than work because he could be funny and interesting. Now it was like a layer of frost had settled over them.

  ‘Has the neighbour had anything interesting to say?’

  ‘DC Belmar spoke to her but he didn’t have a chance to brief me before I came out here.’

  ‘Make sure he feeds anything of note back to me and fills out his log. That goes for you too, Neville. I want every word recorded.’

  She knew immediately what he was getting at and so did Matheson, judging by the way he muttered something about checking the markers and peeled away from them.

  Every family liaison officer was required to log their conversations with the victims’ relatives and any friends who came by the house during an investigation. The idea was to make the record as verbatim as possible, so no detail was missed and the FLO could easily check back to see if there were lingering questions the family wanted answering. Maggie liked to make notes as she went along, whenever she had a minute to spare, but other FLOs she knew sat down at the end of the day to record theirs.

  It was Maggie’s log that had indirectly sparked Umpire’s complaint against her during the investigation into the murder of eight-year-old Mansell schoolgirl Megan Fowler. For reasons she still stood by, Maggie chose not to record a particular conversation she had with Megan’s mother. It had no bearing on the outcome of the case, but Umpire deemed the omission serious enough to report her to DI Gant for breaching FL guidelines.

  As Matheson hurried down the garden away from them, she waited for Umpire to continue. But his mouth was set in a line and she could see he wanted an acknowledgement of his order, not a discussion, however much she itched to have one.

  ‘Yes, sir,’ she said resignedly.

  ‘Good. I’m glad we understand each other. Let’s keep it that way,’ he said, and strode off in Matheson’s wake.

  Two forensic techs standing on the terrace eyed Maggie as she went past and one made a comment under his breath to the other that she assumed was about her and the exchange they’d just witnessed. Speculation about her inclusion on the case must be rife, she thought. The question they must all be asking – the one she was asking – was why Umpire was giving her another chance. She wondered if they agreed with what she’d done, though. Would they have done the same thing in her shoes? She’d love to know but dared not ask. Her fragile relationship with Umpire would not survive her gossiping about the Megan Fowler case with the rest of the team.

  She was heading across the entrance hall when the sight of two teenage girls hovering by the front door with their backs to the room stopped her in her tracks. One had muted red hair braided into a French plait, the other had long, dark hair that hung below her shoulders. It couldn’t be . . .

  ‘Rosie?’

  The sound of Maggie’s loafers skidding across the parquet floor as she dashed forward must’ve startled them and their eyes widened like frightened rabbits’ as they swung round to face her.

  The brunette wasn’t Rosie. Her hair was the same shade, and the same length, but her features were more angular, with high cheekbones and a sharp chin. The most recent picture of Rosie, the one DI Gant had texted, showed her face to be softer and rounder. Reaching her side, Maggie realized the brunette was the girl pictured with Rosie and One Direction in the photograph above her desk in her room.

  ‘Are you Kathryn?’ Maggie asked.

  Nodding, Kathryn Stockton dissolved into tears.

  ‘It’s all my fault she’s missing. I should’ve stayed, I should never have left her this morning!’

  ‘Don’t cry,’ implored the redhead, rubbing Kathryn’s arm. She looked terrified and her skin was so pale Maggie could see tiny blue veins fanning out like a spider’s web beneath its surface.

  ‘Are you a friend of Rosie’s too?’ she asked.

  The redhead nodded. ‘I’m Lily.’

  ‘Lily what?’

  ‘Flynn.’

  ‘Do you live on Burr Way too?’

  ‘No, my house is across the village.’

  ‘How do you know Rosie? From s
chool?’

  No, I go to Mansell High, the girls’ grammar school.’

  ‘Lily knows Rosie through me,’ said Kathryn, still weeping.

  ‘When did you last speak to her, Lily?’

  ‘Yesterday evening. We FaceTimed for a bit before I went to bed. She was fine then.’

  ‘What about you?’ said Maggie gently to her friend.

  Kathryn was too overcome to answer. She was crying so hard that trails of phlegm ran from her nose to her lips.

  ‘Let’s go in here,’ said Maggie, steering the girls into the lounge and sitting them down on the purple sofa Lesley had earlier occupied. As she waited for Kathryn to calm down, Maggie sat down opposite and explained who she and Belmar were. Both girls confirmed they were sixteen, which meant an appropriate adult wasn’t needed to sit in, but Maggie still asked if they wanted one. Both said no.

  ‘Kathryn, you said outside it was your fault Rosie’s missing. What did you mean?’ She kept her voice low and soft.

  ‘We had a big row. I came round earlier to see if she wanted to go riding and she was in the garden. She said no, she needed to revise. I told her she was being stupid,’ she said, bookending the sentence with sobs.

  ‘Why did you think she was being that?’

  Kathryn wiped her nose on the sleeve of her long-sleeved white T-shirt, which she wore with cream jodhpurs and silver trainers bearing a ‘Superga’ logo. Her large brown eyes were heavily made up with thick mascara and eyeliner and there were slicks of rose-pink blusher accentuating her sharp cheekbones. The kind of make-up Maggie was only allowed to wear on special occasions when she was that age. By contrast, Lily’s face was scrubbed clean. She was dressed in jeans, an emerald green hooded top that zipped up the front and white Converse plimsolls.

  ‘I know it sounds stupid, but I got really angry with her and I – I said some things I shouldn’t have,’ said Kathryn.

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘I called her a stupid bitch and said she was being a baby. I was just really angry. I also said if she didn’t come riding with me I’d make her sorry.’

  Maggie looked directly at Kathryn so she could see her expression clearly. She wanted her to see there was no judgement in it. She didn’t care what she’d said to Rosie, just why.

  ‘I’m sure she knew you didn’t mean it,’ she said, holding Kathryn’s gaze. ‘Even good friends row sometimes.’ She glanced at Lily, who was even paler now as she listened. ‘It does sound like you were very angry with her though.’

  ‘I didn’t mean what I said,’ Kathryn cried. ‘I was annoyed because she wouldn’t listen to me and I was worried about her being at home on her own. I thought if she came riding then I could keep an eye on her. I went on and on until she told me to go away, so I did. But I shouldn’t have left,’ she wailed, breaking down again. ‘I should’ve stayed until her mum came home.’

  An alarm bell rang loudly in Maggie’s ears.

  ‘Why were you so worried about her being here alone?’ she said carefully. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Lily fidget nervously in her seat.

  ‘I can’t say,’ Kathryn mumbled.

  ‘Is the reason something her mum and dad know about?’

  Kathryn shook her head, her big brown eyes filled with fear. Lily also looked scared.

  ‘No way. They’d go mad if they knew.’

  Maggie remembered Lesley’s comment about Mack being strict with Rosie and debated the best way to frame her next question. She wanted to know why Kathryn was worried, but had to ask in a way that didn’t sound as though she was interrogating the poor girl. This wasn’t a formal interview.

  ‘Is it something to do with a boy, perhaps? Is there someone she likes?’

  ‘She’s never had a boyfriend – well, not while she’s been living here.’

  ‘No one she fancies at school?’

  Kathryn shook her head. ‘We go to an all-girls school.’

  ‘Outside school then?’

  Lily finally spoke up. Her voice was reed-thin. ‘Rosie doesn’t go out. Her dad doesn’t like it. He’s only just started letting her have sleepovers.’

  ‘So why didn’t you want to leave her alone, Kathryn?’

  Kathryn wiped her eyes on her sleeve, leaving smears of mascara fanned towards her temples. She stared at the ceiling.

  ‘You need to tell me why,’ urged Maggie. ‘You were so worried about her that you didn’t want to leave her alone and now she’s missing. I can see you feel like you have to protect her but you’re not helping Rosie if you don’t tell us the truth. It may make all the difference to finding her and we can’t afford to waste time.’

  Tears began to roll down Lily’s face. ‘Just tell her.’

  After what felt like an age, Kathryn nodded. ‘But do her parents have to find out?’

  ‘Why don’t you let me be the judge of that?’

  ‘Please, you can’t say anything,’ Kathryn moaned. ‘Rosie will kill us if they find out.’

  Lily let out a sob and buried her face in her hands. Her shoulders shook as she cried.

  ‘Stop it, Lily, you’re not helping,’ said Kathryn crossly.

  Maggie watched them carefully. There was usually one girl within a friendship group who was the leader and something told her it was Kathryn in this one. She sat back, happy to wait until one of them was willing to speak up. DI Gant said one of the reasons she excelled at being an FLO, why she had sailed through the training and why he liked using her, was that she had infinite patience. Maggie could sit quietly for hours if that was what it took to get an answer from someone. The groundwork was laid in her childhood, growing up in Lou’s wake and always having to wait to go second.

  ‘I want to tell you but Rosie doesn’t want her mum and dad to know, does she, Lily?’ When Lily didn’t react, Kathryn said more firmly, ‘Isn’t that right?’

  Lily nodded dolefully.

  Maggie leaned forward and rested her elbows on her knees. ‘Look, I can’t promise her parents won’t find out. It might be too important for them not to know. But what I can promise is that I’ll make sure Rosie knows neither of you wanted to tell me but I made you.’

  Kathryn seemed satisfied with that but Lily kept her eyes fixed on the floor.

  ‘I shouldn’t have left her because when she’s on her own she hurts herself,’ said Kathryn.

  Maggie’s pulse quickened. ‘How?’

  ‘The blood in the back garden? We know it’s Rosie’s and we know how it ended up there.’ She took a deep, dramatic breath. ‘Rosie cuts herself.’

  Unburdened of the secret, Kathryn slumped back on the sofa and put her forearm over her eyes. Lily didn’t move. Maggie watched them for a few moments, trying to decide if Kathryn was being straight with her, wondering if there was anything they’d have to gain from lying.

  ‘Are you saying Rosie is a self-harmer?’

  Kathryn lowered her arm slowly. Her eyelashes had clumped together in little spikes.

  ‘Yes. Rosie cuts herself until she bleeds. And she does it all the time.’

  Maggie thought about the patch of blood on the lawn and the splatter line down towards the firs. Could Rosie have accidentally cut herself too deeply this time? It was possible. But why, she questioned herself, would she then climb over the fence at the bottom of the garden? Why not go back into the house to get help? Either way, Umpire needed to know about this.

  ‘Thank you for being honest with me. I know it’s hard because you don’t want to feel like you’re telling tales but I think what you’ve told me is really helpful. I’ll just need your contact details now, in case we need to speak to you again.’

  Lily reacted with horror. ‘But I only ever hang out with Rosie after school, I don’t know anything! Why will I have to be questioned again?’

  ‘It’s okay,’ said Maggie soothingly. ‘It’s nothing to be anxious about. We’ll just need you to give a statement about what you’ve told me. You can have your mum and dad sit in on the interview if you want.’

/>   ‘Will you do it?’ asked Lily anxiously.

  ‘I don’t know. It’ll be up to the officer in charge.’

  Family liaison officers were known to take formal statements during a case – the role did not preclude them from being part of the investigative team. The only issue was how involved Umpire wanted her to be. Maggie took the girls’ details to pass on to him, including phone numbers for their parents.

  ‘You’re better off speaking to my mum. My dad’s in New York,’ said Kathryn sullenly. ‘He works away a lot.’

  ‘Actually, your mum’s still here, with my colleague DC Small. Do you want me to get her?’

  Kathryn shrugged. ‘If you want.’

  Maggie returned two minutes later with Sarah, who shot across the room to her daughter’s side.

  ‘What have you been saying?’ she snapped.

  For a second Maggie thought she was talking to her and was annoyed at her for questioning the girls. Then she saw that her anger was directed at Kathryn. The teenager shrank back in her seat.

  ‘I didn’t say anything, Mum. She was just asking us about how well we know Rosie.’

  Sarah folded her arms across her chest and glared at her daughter. ‘If you’re causing trouble again—’

  ‘She’s not,’ Maggie interjected. ‘She’s been really helpful.’

  Sarah ignored her and gestured at Kathryn to stand up. ‘Come on, it’s time we left the police to it. That goes for you too, Lily. Isn’t your grandmother expecting you?’

  ‘They might need to be interviewed again at some point.’ Maggie handed Sarah her business card. ‘If you have any questions, please give me a call. I’m here to help Rosie’s friends as well as her family.’

  ‘Thank you,’ said Sarah grudgingly.

  As they went to leave, Lily turned to Maggie. ‘Rosie’s really lovely,’ she said timidly. ‘She’s never horrible to anyone and she doesn’t deserve this.’

  It was only after they left that Maggie thought about what Lily had said. If she and Kathryn were convinced the blood loss was caused by her self-harming, what exactly did Rosie not deserve?