Double Dealing (Detective Sergeant Catherine Bishop Series Book Two) (13 page)

25

DC Anna Varcoe guided the vehicle over a well-used car park. As they got out, Catherine gazed at the premises of John Worthy and Son, her hands on her hips.

  ‘Could do with a lick of paint,’ she noted. ‘Reception must be around the other side.’

Anna glanced left and right.

  ‘Looks like it. Seems a strange place to put it.’

  ‘Come on then.’

They had to walk about halfway around the building before they saw it, a tiny door, its blue paint as dull and flaking as that on the rest of the building. Catherine pushed open the door to reveal a well-maintained reception area, quite a contrast to the run-down appearance of the exterior of the building. A woman in her fifties glanced up from her computer monitor with a polished smile.

  ‘Good afternoon. Do you have an appointment?’ Her expression said she knew they didn’t.

  ‘No, I’m afraid. I’m Detective Sergeant Bishop, this is Detective Constable Varcoe. We’re here to see the owner, please.’

The receptionist flapped a little.

  ‘Oh, the police? I’m not aware of anyone calling you, is there a problem?’

  ‘We need to speak to Mr Worthy.’ Catherine was firm. ‘Is he in today?’

  ‘Yes, he is, but he’s in an important meeting, I never usually disturb him . . .’

  ‘I’m afraid today you’ll have to.’ Catherine’s tone made it clear the woman had no choice and she backed away, still muttering. Catherine wandered over to sniff at the vibrant flowers that were arranged in a cut glass vase on a low wooden table.

‘Real,’ she said to Anna, who nodded.

They both turned when a loud voice and clumping footsteps heralded the arrival of John Worthy.  He burst through the wooden door by the reception desk and strode towards them.

  ‘Are you the policemen?’ he demanded. Catherine met his eyes before looking down at herself and then at Anna. Worthy held up his hands. ‘Sorry, sorry, police officers. Didn’t think what I was saying, my wife tells me I’m always doing it. So what’s so important you have to interrupt my board meeting?’

  ‘Is there somewhere we can talk privately, Mr Worthy?’ Anna asked.

Worthy loosened his tie.

  ‘Privately? Well, yes. I can assure you that Margaret here is trustworthy though.’

The receptionist, who had followed Worthy in and retaken her seat, blushed and bent closer to her monitor.

  ‘I’m sure she is. Please, sir.’ Catherine made it clear that the subject wasn’t open for discussion.

  ‘All right, fine. Follow me.’

Worthy led the way back through the door he’d appeared from, down a narrow corridor and into a large office, warm and welcoming. A beautiful, carved wooden desk stood at the back of the room, and with a groan, Worthy heaved himself into the chair that waited behind it. ‘Ah . . . my back’s playing up. Now,’ he clasped his hands on the desktop. ‘What’s this all about? Do sit down. You are?’ Catherine handed over their warrant cards as she and Anna sat down in the wooden chairs in front of Worthy’s desk. He studied them.

  ‘We’re here because an employee of Worthy and Son has been reported missing,’ she told him.

Worthy linked his fingers across his belly.

  ‘Really, Sergeant? As far as I’m aware, all my staff are present and correct, except for my second-in-command, who’s down in London.’

  ‘It’s Lauren Cook,’ Anna said.

  ‘Then I can’t help you. Lauren has booked some days off.’

Catherine crossed her legs at the ankle.

  ‘You’re the owner of this business, aren’t you, Mr Worthy?’

Worthy lifted his chin. ‘I am indeed. Took over from my father fifteen years ago. He built this place up from nothing.’ He stretched out a hand and picked up the receiver of the phone that sat on his desk. ‘Can I offer either of you tea or coffee?’

Anna glanced at Catherine and replied, ‘Coffee please.’

She gave a brisk nod. ‘The same. Thank you.’

Worthy made the request, then sat back.

  ‘What role does Lauren Cook have in the business?’ Catherine asked.

  ‘Role?’ Worthy frowned. ‘She’s in packing and despatch. As you know, we’re a printing firm, though we’ve had to branch out – diversify. You know how it is these days.’ He gave a wistful smile. ‘The printing side of things used to be our biggest source of income, but that’s not so now.’

  ‘So Lauren doesn’t have a management position?’ Anna asked, opening her notepad. Worthy frowned.

  ‘No. She’s a good worker and she’s very willing, but I’d say she’s not career-minded. I’m sure she would agree.’

  ‘It’s rare to find a managing director who takes such an interest in his junior members of staff, wouldn’t you say?’ said Catherine, keeping her tone light. Anna nodded.

  ‘It’s commendable, ma’am.’

Worthy hesitated.

  ‘And what do you mean by that?’ he asked finally.

  ‘It’s just that more often than not the owner of a company doesn’t even know their employees’ names, much less when their holidays are,’ Catherine explained with a disarming smile. Worthy seemed satisfied with the reply.

  ‘Well, we’ve always been hands-on here at Worthy’s. I make it my business to get to know each employee, but then I’ve known Lauren since she was tiny. Her dad used to work here you see, he was my finance man for years. I’ve found it makes for a much more satisfied workforce if we take an interest in our staff, so we’re like one big happy family.’ He beamed at them, and Catherine raised an eyebrow as the receptionist bustled in with a tray. Worthy insisted on pouring their drinks himself, then settled back in his chair with a cup of thick coffee, liberally dosed with cream.

  ‘Now, what’s all this about Lauren being missing?’ He smoothed a finger over his bushy grey eyebrows. ‘It seems odd to me.’

  ‘Why odd?’ Catherine asked.

Worthy lifted his cup to his lips again, taking his time before replying.

  ‘It’s usually children who disappear, isn’t it? I can understand the police getting involved then, but Lauren’s a grown woman.’

  ‘We’ll need to speak to your staff, Mr Worthy - you’ll understand if we don’t give you any details until we’ve talked to everyone?’

  ‘Well, I suppose so. I do own the place, you know.’ He pouted, then took another mouthful of coffee.

  ‘When is Lauren due back at work?’ Catherine watched Worthy’s brow crease as he thought about it.

  ‘Tomorrow, I believe. Are you saying that we shouldn’t expect Lauren to arrive? She’s due to work some overtime on Saturday.’

  ‘You’re not overly concerned that no one has heard from her then?’ Anna put in. Worthy’s already florid cheeks flushed deeper.

  ‘If she’s genuinely missing, then yes, of course I’m concerned,’ he blustered. ‘I know Lauren – she’s sensible, trustworthy. I find it hard to believe that she would just go off somewhere. I’m confident that she’ll turn up for work tomorrow as planned.’ He pulled a cotton handkerchief out of his trouser pocket and wiped his face. Catherine watched with interest - Worthy was rattled. Was it because he knew where Lauren was, or because he was realising it was possible that he didn’t know his employees as well as he had thought?

  ‘Did Lauren ever mention her home life to you?’ she asked. ‘Her husband, if she was happy with him? Any problems they might be having?’

Worthy shook his head. ‘We’re not on those sort of terms, Sergeant. I take an interest in my staff, yes, but not to that extent. You’d be better off talking to her colleagues.’

  ‘Yes, sir. Is there somewhere we can speak to your staff individually? And could you provide a list of all your employees, please?’ Catherine glanced at Anna, who closed her notebook, hoping Worthy took the hint.

  ‘You may as well stay in here, I’ll make myself scarce.’ He got to his feet, lumbered into the centre of the room, then turned back. ‘I don’t understand.’ His voice was plaintive.

Anna stood and shepherded him to the door. ‘We’ll talk to you again later, sir. Is there a Sarah on your staff?’

Catherine crossed the room to join them.

  ‘Sarah? Yes, Sarah Watson. Good pals with Lauren.’

  ‘Could you send her in first, please, Mr Worthy? And I know we can count on your discretion, you couldn’t have built up a business like this without knowing who you could trust.’ Catherine flashed him a winning smile as she opened the door.

  ‘That’s true enough, Sergeant,’ Worthy preened. ‘Don’t worry, I won’t breathe a word. I’ll send Sarah along now, and I’ll get that list you asked about. Anything to help.’

He backed out of the room and disappeared down the corridor. Closing the door, Catherine leant against it with a sigh.

‘I thought he was never going to leave.’ She sat in Worthy’s chair and span around a few times. Anna joined her sergeant behind the desk, dragging a chair with her and settling into it.

   A few minutes later, there was a tap on the door and Sarah Watson appeared. She wore jeans, a hooded sweatshirt, trainers and an apprehensive expression. Her hair was pulled back into a careless ponytail, her make-up discreet. She edged into the room, wary eyes fixed on the two officers. Catherine stood, held out her hand and introduced them.

  ‘DS?’ Sarah said uncomprehendingly. She gave Catherine’s hand a limp shake, still standing. Gesturing that she should sit down, Catherine explained, ‘DS just means detective sergeant.’

  ‘Detective . . . So you’re the police?’ Sarah sank into the chair, her discomfort even clearer. ‘Mr Worthy said someone needed to speak to me, I thought it was about work.’

  ‘Are you a friend of Lauren Cook?’

  ‘Lauren? Yes, we work in the same department. She’s not in today though. I’ve sent her a text, but she hasn’t replied.’

  ‘Are you engaged, Sarah?’ Catherine had already seen the ring on Sarah Watson’s finger, but she wanted to tread gently. Watson seemed confused.

  ‘Yeah, but . . . what’s this all about?’

  ‘Have you had your hen night recently?’

  ‘Hen night? We’ve not even set a date yet. Are you going to tell me what’s going on?’

Catherine took a deep breath.

  ‘I’m sorry to have to tell you this, but it seems Lauren is missing. She told her husband she was away on a hen night this weekend and that the bride-to-be was called Sarah. You were the obvious place to start.’

Watson stared.

  ‘She’s missing? I don’t understand.’

  ‘Did she say anything to you about where she might have gone?’ Anna asked.

  ‘No. It doesn’t make sense.’

  ‘Did Lauren have a drug habit, as far you’re aware?’

  ‘Drugs?’ Sarah looked at her shoes. ‘No. Not Lauren.’

Hmmm,
thought Catherine.

  ‘Have you any idea why Lauren would have told her husband she was away with you over the weekend?’ Anna questioned. She’d sensed that Sarah knew more than she wanted to say, as Catherine had.

  ‘No, none. Unless she was going somewhere she didn’t want him to know about.’

  ‘Did she tell you she was going to lie to him, ask you to cover for her? Did she have a boyfriend? ’

  ‘No.’

  ‘You’re sure?’

  ‘Of course I am. I’m not stupid, you know.’

  ‘I realise that, Sarah, and I’m sure you know withholding information from police officers isn’t a good idea. Still, if you’re sure you can’t help us . . .’

Catherine sat back in her chair and flipped a few pages in her notebook, scribbled and then held the pad out to Anna. She pretended to study the smiley face Catherine had drawn with a nod of agreement. Watson shifted in her chair.

  ‘Look, you come in here, tell me my mate’s missing . . .’

They waited. Sarah’s face showed her internal struggle, her loyalty to her friend pitted against what she knew she should do. In the end, honesty won.

  ‘Lauren did say . . .’ She chewed on her bottom lip. ‘I don’t want to cause any trouble . . .’

  ‘If you tell us what you know, it could help us find your friend. She could be in danger,’ Catherine prompted.

  ‘I do know she said she was going to earn some money to treat Mark to a weekend away as a surprise for his birthday. They’d not had a holiday for ages and she asked me not tell him. They’d been having a few problems, nothing major, just worries about Mark not being able to find a job. Lauren was worried that he was depressed, drinking too much sometimes. She was annoyed because it’s not as if they had the money to spare, and Mark was snappy with her about it, defensive. Lauren never mentioned going away though, I just thought she meant helping out in a pub to earn some extra cash. She’s done that before, you see.’

  ‘She didn’t tell you where she was going, mention any names?’

  ‘Nothing, just that.’

  ‘And what about drugs?’

Watson squirmed.

  ‘What about them?’

  ‘Come on, Sarah. We need your help. Please.’

  ‘She . . . Oh, all right, I know she did a few drugs in the past, when she was younger. A lot of people do, you know, experimenting or whatever. Not recently though, or not that I know of.’