The Silent Children: A serial-killer thriller with a twist Page 14

  ‘Did you have any dealings with either of them?’

  ‘No, they weren’t my patients.’

  Robyn returned the photographs to the file and sighed inwardly. She’d hit another dead end.

  ‘Tessa had a relationship with at least one of the team members. Do you know who?’

  Juliet gave a light shrug. ‘She didn’t tell me who. We were chatting in the staffroom and she let it slip, but when I asked her who she’d slept with, she put her finger to her lips and giggled.’

  ‘You said Anthony asked you to join the team.’

  ‘Yes, that’s right. He was older than the rest of us. He was quite flirty with Tessa. I doubt she slept with him. She was always taking the piss about him behind his back. Besides, he’s old enough to be her father and I don’t think he’s her type.’

  ‘Does he live in Yoxall?’

  ‘No. Stafford way, I think.’

  ‘You don’t know his surname?’

  ‘It’s not the sort of thing you mention. I don’t know any of their surnames.’

  ‘Who else played on the team?’

  ‘Roger, he lives in the countryside near Hoar Cross, just outside Yoxall, and Liam. He lives in Yoxall village.’

  Robyn frowned lightly. Henry Gregson’s friend Liam lived in Yoxall. It couldn’t be the same man, could it? ‘Does Liam work at MiniMarkt in Lichfield?’

  ‘Yes. I think so. His partner, Ella, sometimes came along to watch. So did Roger’s girlfriend although she hung about the bar area.’ Juliet shuffled from foot to foot.

  Steph cruised into the kitchen with a packet of cigarettes in her hand. ‘Got ’em,’ she said. ‘Have you told her about what he did?’ she asked her mother.

  ‘Not now, Steph,’ Juliet said.

  Steph turned to Robyn. ‘That’s half the problem. She won’t tell anyone what really happened. It’s not too late to say something, is it?’

  ‘It’s not too late if your mother wants to press charges,’ Robyn said.

  ‘See.’ Steph rested her gaze on her mother, who tugged once more at her cardigan.

  ‘This isn’t the time, Steph.’

  Steph huffed loudly. ‘There’s never a right time, is there?’

  ‘I’ll leave you to think it over. If you want to contact me about anything, here’s my card.’ With that, Robyn left the house. It was getting late and she still had to prepare for Amélie, but first she had to talk to Liam.

  * * *

  Liam was on the shop floor behind one of the tills, serving a line of customers, his face grey and sombre. He saw Robyn enter the shop and called across for a co-worker to handle the customers, and then beckoned her to join him in the staffroom again.

  ‘Any news?’ he said as soon as they were alone.

  ‘I’m sorry. Not yet. How are you all?’

  Liam’s voice was downbeat. ‘Astra’s refusing to eat. We’re at our wits’ end. She’s in a right mood. Keeps asking for Henry. I don’t know when she’ll get over this.’

  ‘She will. Give her time. Keep distracting her. Take her out to the park, play games with her. Children are resilient. Eventually, she’ll forget about Henry.’ Robyn hoped her words didn’t sound too callous.

  There was silence, then in a heavy voice, Liam replied, ‘It’s such a shame she’ll forget him. He was so good to her. Treated her like his own.’

  ‘Maybe it would help if you take her to visit Lauren. She’ll see that Henry isn’t at home and gradually, she’ll learn that he’s gone.’

  ‘We should do that. I’ll ring Lauren and see how she feels about it. Why have you come? Not just to see how we are?’

  She shook her head. ‘I’m here about Tessa Hall. I don’t know if you heard but she was found dead at her home yesterday.’

  Liam’s eyes opened wide. ‘You can’t be serious. Tessa?’

  ‘I spoke to Juliet, who said you knew her.’

  Liam blinked repeatedly, trying to comprehend what he’d heard. ‘Tessa?’ he asked again.

  ‘I’m so sorry to break the news to you. Especially after what happened to Henry.’

  ‘We weren’t friends as such, but of course I knew her. We played together on the same quiz side a few times. Tessa? I can’t believe it. Who do you think killed her?’

  ‘We’ve only just begun our investigations and are looking into a few possibilities. Did she mention a boyfriend to you?’

  Liam stuck out his bottom lip. ‘I’m not somebody she’d share that information with. I got along with her but we didn’t have any cosy chats. Ella wasn’t her greatest fan. Tessa was a bit too flirty for her liking, so I kept out of Tessa’s way. Didn’t want to upset Ella. Tessa was always being chatted up. She was nice, although too full-on for me. I prefer the quiet type.’

  ‘Ella used to attend the quiz nights?’

  ‘Yeah. Now and again, she’d come along with Astra, depending where the quiz was being held. She never participated though. She preferred to support us.’

  ‘You knew Tessa was a nurse?’

  Liam nodded. ‘Yes. She said she was. Tamworth, I think.’

  ‘Did Henry ever mention her?’

  ‘Tessa? No. Why?’

  Robyn smiled tightly. ‘Tessa worked at the fertility clinic that Henry attended. I wondered if he had mentioned her name.’

  Liam shook his head. ‘All I know about the clinic was he didn’t want to go. Told me he hated the idea of being probed and questioned about his sex life. He didn’t even want children yet. He certainly never mentioned Tessa. That’s weird. You don’t think their deaths are related in some way?’ His mouth opened in astonishment. ‘No. That couldn’t be the case. They didn’t know each other. I’m sure of it.’

  ‘When did you last see Tessa?’

  ‘End of last year. We went to a quiz in Abbots Bromley. We all had too much to drink and we didn’t win. We decided to call it a day after that.’

  ‘Forgive me for asking but what’s the attraction of a quiz night?’

  Liam shrugged. ‘It makes for a night out with company rather than sitting in the corner of a pub, drinking alone. Going along to a few quizzes gives you the chance to try other pubs, meet fresh faces. It’s the social side that appeals to most people. Not so much for me – I’ve always liked trivia, especially sport trivia, so I got to test out my knowledge.’

  ‘We only have the first names of your teammates. You don’t have any contact details for them do you?’

  ‘No. I had Roger’s but after the team folded, I deleted it from my contact list.’

  It was the same response Juliet had given. Robyn persisted. ‘Do you happen to know their surnames? It would make it easier for us to track them down.’

  ‘Juliet’s name is Farrow or something similar, and Roger is Roger Jenkinson, but I don’t know Anthony’s. It never came up in conversation.’ He sighed heavily and shook his head in dismay. ‘I’m really sorry about Tessa.’

  * * *

  Robyn returned to her car and phoned Anna to see if anything had been uncovered while she’d been interviewing Juliet and Liam. She was about to ring off when she asked, ‘Anna, would you say a quiz night in a pub was your idea of fun?’

  Anna snorted a response. ‘No, but I enjoy playing computer games in my spare time, so I’m not the right person to ask. Mitz likes watching quiz shows and shouting out the answers to the questions. And we both like pubs. Does that help?’

  Robyn smiled at the thought of Mitz glued to a quiz show. ‘I suppose so. Each to their own, eh?’

  She mentally filed away her thoughts about quiz nights not being the most entertaining of evenings for young women or men, and drove back towards Stafford. There was no more she could achieve today, and she had to get back home for Amélie.

  Twenty-Five

  DAY FOUR – FRIDAY, 17 FEBRUARY, EVENING

  * * *

  Schrödinger purred as he wound himself around Robyn’s feet. She ignored his demands and studied the photograph even though she’d committed it to memory and kn
ew every detail of it.

  So far, her efforts to contact Peter Cross, Davies’ superior, had come to nothing. She wasn’t surprised by that fact. He worked for military intelligence and was something of a ghost. Davies had worked for him, and with Davies gone, she had no way of contacting Peter Cross.

  A printed A4 sheet contained all the flights that had left Morocco that day. Given he’d left their riad in Marrakesh at six that morning to cross the Atlas Mountains, he’d had sufficient time to travel to any number of airports in Morocco and catch a flight back to the UK. The nearest airport was Marrakesh Menara Airport. He might even have gone to Casablanca Mohammed V Airport, or, at a push, caught a flight from Agadir. All were possible.

  She faced the window and fought back the rising anger that came with such considerations. If Davies was alive, he should have bloody well contacted her directly and not put her through this. It was so ridiculously inconsiderate and cruel. And, if he were alive now, she wasn’t sure how she felt about him after this. How could he justify what he’d done – the pretence, the lies, the pain? She snatched up the photograph. She was sick of all this. She hadn’t got any time for stupid games.

  Robyn checked her watch. There was still time to catch her cousin Ross before he went home and before Amélie came over. He was the only person who could help her with this.

  * * *

  Robyn found a parking space outside the offices of R&J Associates, behind her cousin’s silver Vauxhall. The premises were in the main street in Stafford, sandwiched between an insurance company and an estate agency. She opened the door and entered the narrow hallway, shared by several companies, before bounding up the stairs that led to his office on the first floor.

  She waited outside the door before knocking. A raised voice indicated Ross was in.

  ‘I warned you,’ he said loudly. ‘I’m not putting up with this behaviour for a minute longer.’

  She smiled in spite of herself and knocked.

  ‘Come in,’ yelled Ross.

  She opened the door and slid into the office, shutting the door quickly behind her.

  Ross, in a dark-blue ill-fitting suit with tie undone, was looking hot and bothered. He pointed to the basket beside his desk and shouted, ‘Down!’ The young Staffordshire bull terrier on his large leather chair looked mournful but remained resolutely fixed to the spot.

  ‘For heaven’s sake, Duke, get off my chair.’

  Robyn patted her thigh. ‘Duke, want to see what I’ve got in my pocket?’

  The dog looked over to Robyn then jumped down from the chair, scooting over to her. She fussed over him before giving him a dog biscuit she’d grabbed from the tin marked ‘Duke’ as she left the house.

  ‘Don’t reward his bad behaviour,’ said Ross, sliding onto his chair before Duke could return.

  Robyn grinned. ‘It’s your own fault. You let him climb up there when you first got him, and now he thinks it’s his chair. You should have been firmer with him when you were training him. Besides, the chair probably smells of you, and when you’re out, he likes to feel close to you.’

  Duke plopped down on his haunches and stared at her intently.

  Ross grumbled something unintelligible. ‘I’ve just got in. You were lucky to catch me.’

  ‘I was going to phone but I was passing anyway and thought I’d take a chance,’ she replied, stroking behind the dog’s ear.

  ‘So, what can I help you with?’

  ‘No small talk first? You want to get straight to the point?’

  ‘I’m not one for small talk as you well know. You’re here because you need my help. And I’m happy to give it to you. What is it this time? Murder, missing person?’

  Robyn sat on the chair opposite Ross and rested her elbows on the desk, fingers steepled against her lips. She wasn’t sure how to broach the subject but Ross, like her, preferred to get to the point.

  ‘I think Davies is alive.’

  Silence fell, broken only by the noise of Duke’s claws as he clattered across the wooden floor and tumbled into his basket with a heavy sigh.

  Ross stared at her, then picked up a pen and twirled it between his fingers. ‘Go on,’ he said.

  She delved into her bag and slid the photograph of Davies across the table. ‘I received this in January. It was postmarked London. At first, I thought it was faked, but now I’m not so certain. It’s definitely Davies, but the date and time stamp on it show it was taken the day he was killed. I think it was snapped at a UK airport. If you look closely, you’ll see souvenir double-decker toy buses on the stand behind the newspaper rack. It looks like a WHSmith store. The newspapers are all English ones. At first, I believed the picture was photoshopped, but I kept asking myself why? Why would somebody want me to believe he was alive?’ She tilted her head backwards and stared into space. ‘It makes no sense to me, Ross. I’ve tried to find out as much as I can. I can’t get hold of Davies’ old boss, Peter Cross. I’m running around chasing my tail on this. There’s a message on the back of it.’

  He turned the picture over and read it. ‘“Fact not fiction”. That’s brief and doesn’t tell you much.’

  ‘It might suggest that this picture is real. I believed Davies was dead, caught in an ambush – but that was fiction, and the fact is that somehow he travelled to an airfield, or airport, and caught a flight back to the UK instead of going across the Atlas Mountains to a meeting with an informant. For whatever reason, he or his superiors allowed me to believe he’d been killed.’

  ‘And his ex-wife and his daughter,’ said Ross, shaking his head. ‘That’s too cruel. Davies wouldn’t have allowed that to happen.’

  ‘I wondered about that when I first got the photo. I tried to justify his silence and told myself maybe he didn’t know we’d been told he was dead. That we’d been told he was on a top-secret mission and couldn’t contact us. I came up with all sorts of crazy notions. Oh, Ross, I have no idea what to think and it’s doing my head in. I can’t reason why it’s happened. All I know is that I’ve been sent a photograph of Davies taken after his death. He was wearing that exact outfit the last time I saw him.’

  ‘This is crazy, Robyn. Look, I don’t want to be rude or disrespectful but maybe you’re reading too much into this. It’s normal you’d want to believe he’s alive and that this isn’t faked.’

  Robyn tried to keep the ice out of her voice. ‘I’m not clinging to false hope to absolve myself of guilt. That’s what you mean, isn’t it?’

  ‘No, yes. No. You were in pieces after his death. You blamed yourself constantly for going to Morocco. You firmly believed you’d blown his cover. Robyn, I saw you. I watched you sink into the worst depression I’d ever seen. I saw life drain from you until you were an empty husk. You were a mess!’

  ‘I know. I understand. I was in a dreadful state, and yes, I blamed myself for his death. I’m not trying to believe this picture is real so I can feel better about what happened. I’m not even sure I want Davies to be alive. I can’t imagine how I’d cope with seeing him or allowing him back in our lives after this deception. I only want to find out who sent this photograph and why. It’s eating me up. And then there are the flowers I received on Valentine’s Day – anemones. Davies always sent anemones. Who’d know that? I’ve started to wonder if there’s something more sinister going on.’

  Ross’s chin jutted forward. ‘It’s times like this I wish I hadn’t given up smoking. This is so damn stressful. Robyn, I’m going to be blunt here. Have you considered the fact Davies might have set us all up? It’s possible he had a completely different life – a family even – in another country, and he’s fabricated this whole death scenario thing to start afresh. It has been known to happen.’

  ‘It crossed my mind.’

  ‘You assumed he was on missions when he left you for weeks on end and he never divulged where any of them were. He might have been living a double life.’

  Robyn swallowed hard. She hated the thought she might have been taken for a fool. ‘I discoun
ted that theory.’

  ‘Why? It’s a good one. Davies never usually told you where he was headed. He always said his missions were secret yet he told you about Morocco. Why?’

  ‘He said it was a low-risk mission. It was just a meeting and he thought it might not even go ahead.’

  ‘Did he beg you to go?’

  Robyn thought back to the day Davies tried hard to persuade her to join him in Morocco, cajoling her and tempting her, subtly persuading her. She nodded. ‘Pretty much. He really wanted me with him there.’

  ‘Robyn, you know where I’m going with this. Davies wasn’t as virtuous as you like to pretend. He and Brigitte split up because he played away on several occasions. She’d had enough of his philandering and lies.’

  ‘It wasn’t like that with us,’ she replied, stony-faced.

  ‘No, but you had a fair few arguments, didn’t you? You rang me on more than one occasion to voice your concerns about him.’

  Robyn blinked away memories of the shouting and raised voices. Ross had touched a nerve. It was true she’d had moments when she’d wondered if Davies was being unfaithful.

  ‘I don’t want to hurt you. I never would, but let’s get this into perspective. Davies could have been living with another woman and might have had his hand forced. He made the decision to choose her. Face it, Robyn, Davies might not be the man you believed him to be, and an anonymous individual wants you to know the truth.’

  Robyn swallowed back the lump forming in her throat. She needed closure on this once and for all. ‘So you’ll help me?’ she said.

  ‘You know I will. But I’m doing this purely for you. You’ve wasted two years of your life mourning this man, and when I uncover the truth, I want you to start living again. I want you to put Davies out of your life, regardless of what’s happened to him, and move on, find somebody else. Get out more and stop treating him like some saint, and you have to promise me one more thing.’