Missing (11 page)

‘I’m glad you see it that way.’

She smiled, and felt a new warmth rising up inside her.

‘I want you to come back to Devon with me after the weekend,’ he went on, taking two warm plates from the oven. ‘You can get some background on the place, and ask questions in a way I can’t, as the husband.’

‘What about Kelsey? I can’t imagine she’s going to be thrilled to see me.’

‘She’s going back to school on Monday, so she won’t be there.’

‘And if Jacqueline decides to show up? I’ll be clotted and whipped before you can say pass the cream.’

He wasn’t amused.

‘That’s not saying I won’t come,’ she assured him hastily, ‘I just want to make sure we’re both aware of the obstacles I’m facing.’

‘I don’t think there’s any doubt about that, but you’re not likely to run into either one of them.’

‘Unless Jacqueline comes back. What about Vivienne?’

‘What about her?’

Justine was trying to read his expression, but it wasn’t possible. Judging it wiser not to go any further with that, at least for the time being, she merely shrugged and smiled and said, ‘Sounds like we have ourselves a deal.’

‘In that case, why don’t you refill our glasses and take them through?’

Several minutes later they were seated either side of the table, with two candles burning between them, and several dishes of exotically scented food spread out around their plates. As they served themselves and ate he talked in some detail about the statements he’d given the police concerning the weeks leading up to Jacqueline’s disappearance, and how very little had happened during that time that could be termed unusual, or out of the ordinary. Though Justine asked an occasional question, on the whole she listened intently to his words, while keeping a close watch on his eyes. He’d know she was assessing him, of course, so he was undoubtedly being careful not to reveal any more than he intended, but she felt reasonably certain that what she was hearing wasn’t too far from the truth. What was intriguing her, however, was his consistent failure to mention Vivienne. She couldn’t yet figure out whether this confirmed the startling information she’d learned only yesterday, that he and Vivienne had a child together, or proved the equally startling claim that he knew nothing about it.

The trouble with Miles was that it was almost impossible to tell what was going on in his head,
particularly
when he didn’t want someone to know. However, if her source was to be believed, and she had little reason to doubt him, it was highly probable that Miles
didn’t
know he had a son. Vivienne would have been afraid to tell him, because of the effect it might have on Jacqueline should she ever find out.

Heaving a gentle sigh, Justine sat back in her chair to drink the rest of her wine as he went into the kitchen to start making coffee. She could see him through the conservatory window, tall and stern, deeply thoughtful and as intractable as ever. Yet for all the armour that protected his emotions, she knew very well that after all he’d been through, finding out he had a son could as easily break him apart as it could push his poor wife right over the edge. It was why she wouldn’t go to print with anything until she had incontrovertible proof that the boy existed. Knowing Miles as she did, if she managed to get one word, or even a single innuendo wrong about something so important to him, it would spell a very abrupt and permanent end to a once glittering career.

‘Ah, sir, there you are,’ DC Joy said, looking up as Detective Inspector Sadler came into CID with one of the sergeants. ‘How did it go in court?’

‘Don’t ask,’ he responded grumpily. ‘Just tell me something to brighten my day.’

‘Well, I don’t think I can do that exactly, sir, but I do have something—’

‘The Avery case,’ he interrupted. ‘Any sightings after the news broadcast?’

‘Uniform are following up on a couple of possibles,’ she answered, ‘and we’ve been inundated with calls from the press …’

He waved a hand irritably. ‘Has anyone seen her, that’s what we want to know? There’s nothing on those darned CCTV cameras, so we have to assume she never got on the train.’

Joy picked up a file and followed him into his office. ‘I’ve spoken to the psychiatrist,’ she told him, ‘and this arrived from the Met a couple of hours ago. It’s a bit surprising … I’m not sure why he never told us … Well, I think you’d better read it.’

Sadler eyed the file, took it, then sank down in his chair as he opened it. ‘I could murder a cuppa,’ he hinted. ‘And a bacon sandwich with two thingama-whatsits of ketchup.’

‘Would that be sachets, sir?’

‘Don’t get smart.’

By the time she’d gone dutifully off to the canteen and returned with his lunch it was clear to Joy that he’d finished reading the file. To her surprise, when she saw the look on his face she felt tears come to her eyes. Quickly blinking them back she set down his plate and cup and tried to assert a professional detachment, but after finding out what she had and now catching her boss’s reaction, it was hard.

‘Sad, isn’t it, sir?’ she said.

Still staring at the page in front of him, Sadler nodded slowly. ‘Yes, Elaine, it’s certainly that,’ he responded, with a rare use of her Christian name.

Going to peer over his shoulder at the file, she said, ‘I wonder why Mr Avery never told us.’

‘He probably finds it hard to talk about,’ Sadler replied. ‘I know I would.’

‘Even after all this time?’

He inhaled deeply. ‘When a child is abducted and never found, time isn’t much of a healer.’

Realising that was probably true, she continued to gaze down at the slightly faded photograph of a beautiful baby boy. ‘So now we know why Mrs Avery’s a bit unstable,’ she said, swallowing another well of emotion.

With a protracted sigh, Sadler nodded. ‘Do we know yet if Mr Avery’s turned up anything in London that might help us to find her?’ he asked.

‘No word from him, sir.’

‘OK, let’s give him a call.’

As he reached for the phone, DC Joy said, ‘I have a theory, sir.’

Sadler put the phone down again.

Surprised to find herself being taken seriously, she coloured slightly. ‘I wondered … I mean … Mrs Avery’s psychiatrist said she’d never been able to get over the loss of her child. Apparently she’s had a couple of breakdowns and all the issues surrounding it are still a big problem for her, to the point that she finds it difficult to connect with other people, including her family. It sounds as though they’ve been through years of hell, actually … So I was wondering … I know this might sound mad, but do you reckon it’s possible her husband might have helped her put an end to the suffering? I mean, she tried to commit suicide before …’ She trailed off, knowing she wasn’t presenting it well. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘It’s just that …’

‘Don’t apologise, DC Joy. I’ve been in this game long enough to know that anything’s possible, and what you’re suggesting had not occurred to me.’ He stared hard at the file, not sure what to make of the idea. ‘If the child’s still alive he’s about to be sixteen,’ he pointed out. ‘Do you think that’s significant?’

Her face fell. ‘I hadn’t noticed that, sir,’ she
confessed.
‘But I suppose it could be. Do you?’

‘It coincides with Mrs Avery’s fortieth,’ he said, and flipping back through the file he began reading again. ‘OK, let’s get Miles Avery on the line,’ he said a few minutes later.

After pressing in the number and hearing it ring, Joy passed the phone back.

‘I’m sorry, Detective Inspector,’ the housekeeper told him, ‘Mr Avery’s still in London.’

‘I thought he might be. Could you give us the number there, please?’ After jotting it down he was about to thank her and ring off when he decided to question her a little further. ‘Has there been any sign of Mrs Avery?’ he asked. ‘Or any news?’

‘If there had, I’m sure Mr Avery would have let you know,’ she responded a little tartly.

‘I’m sure you’re right,’ he said blandly. ‘Tell me, Mrs Davies, did you know that the Averys have, or once had a son, who’d be coming up for sixteen now?’

‘You mean Sam.’

‘Do you know what happened to him?’

‘He was snatched and never found.’

‘And you didn’t think it was important to mention that when we spoke to you?’

‘You were only asking about her, not her son.’

‘Indeed,’ he said, letting his tone tell her how dimly he viewed her pedantry. ‘Thank you,’ he added, and rang off. His expression was dark as he said to Joy, ‘OK, let’s call the Averys’ London number.’ Then, treating her to a cautionary look, ‘You might not like what’s about to happen now, Detective Constable, so brace yourself.’

‘What do you mean, sir?’

‘I mean the benefit of the doubt stops here.’

‘Gone, sir,’ she responded, clearly not entirely sure what he meant.

Were the situation not so grave he might have smiled, but his expression was still sober when a few moments later Joy made the connection and passed him the receiver. ‘Hello, Mr Avery?’ he said, turning on the speaker so Joy could listen. ‘It’s Detective Inspector Sadler. I hope this is a convenient time.’

‘Of course, Inspector,’ Miles assured him. ‘Do you have any news?’

‘Not about your wife, no,’ Sadler replied. ‘But I am wondering why you didn’t tell us your
whole
family history when we came to see you.’

Silence fell at the other end.

Sadler was good at silences, so had no problem letting it stretch.

‘Would it have made a difference?’ Miles finally asked.

‘You’re an intelligent man, you must know the answer to that.’

Miles sighed. ‘All I can say is it’s not something I find easy to put into words.’

Though he understood, Sadler said, ‘Perhaps I can do it for you?’

Joy flinched in anticipation as Miles said, ‘You don’t need to. I know the situation. He’s going to be sixteen in a few weeks. Or he would be …’

Sadler waited, but this time Miles won. ‘Do you think it’s why your wife has gone?’ Sadler asked.

‘I have no idea what her reasons were.’

‘Is there a possibility she could have found him?’

Joy’s eyes widened.

‘I doubt it,’ Miles answered.

‘Do you know where she is, Mr Avery?’

‘I beg your pardon?’

‘I’m asking if you’re wasting police time.’

‘I rather think it’s the other way round,’ Miles snapped and the line went dead.

Sadler handed the receiver to Joy. ‘Get him back,’ he said.

After pressing the redial she returned the phone, then poised a finger over the speaker, only pushing the button when Sadler nodded the go-ahead.

‘Mr Avery, I’m sorry if I offended you.’

‘I went through all this fifteen years ago,’ Miles growled angrily. ‘I was accused then of a crime I didn’t commit.’

‘Yes, we have the file here,’ Sadler told him, knowing only too well how tough the police sometimes had to be on parents whose children went missing. He wouldn’t have to point out the necessity of it to someone like Avery, since he’d be fully aware of how often parents were involved, and it would be naive to think that Avery’s insight would have made his own experience any easier to bear. ‘Did you happen to find anything interesting amongst your wife’s papers?’ he asked. ‘Such as her passport?’

‘Yes, it’s here,’ Miles replied. ‘I should also tell you that she’s virtually emptied one of our joint bank accounts.’

Sadler frowned. ‘I see,’ he said. ‘May I ask what kind of sum we’re talking about?’

‘Somewhere in the region of forty thousand pounds.’

Sadler blew a silent whistle.

‘Most of it was hers,’ Miles continued, ‘the profit from an apartment she sold about a year ago. It was in a long-term account, so she must have forfeited the interest.’

‘When did the withdrawal take place?’

‘According to the statement, about a month before she left.’

‘Which suggests she was planning to go?’

‘It seems that way.’

Sadler chewed his lip thoughtfully. ‘Could she have used it to pay a ransom?’ he asked bluntly.

Again Joy looked shocked.

Sounding less perturbed than he might, Miles said, ‘Obviously the thought’s crossed my mind, but I can’t see her getting involved in something like that without telling me.’

‘You’re a big man in the media, so perhaps the kidnappers – if they exist – felt they could only trust your wife not to inform the police.’

‘It’s possible, but I don’t think very likely.’

‘Mm,’ Sadler grunted, inclined to agree. ‘It also doesn’t seem a big enough sum,’ he went on, almost to himself, ‘particularly when you’re known to be a wealthy man.’

‘It’s a general misconception,’ Miles informed him. ‘In fact, after two lots of inheritance tax, and some bad investments on my father’s part, there was very little left when I took over the estate.’

‘Well, I admit I’m intrigued,’ Sadler said, sitting back in his chair, ‘but as things stand, I’m not sure we can help you any further. If your wife has chosen to absent herself from the family home, which is what it’s looking like … Well, there’s no crime in that.’

Miles’s tone was brisk as he said, ‘So I take it you no longer consider her a danger to herself, or others.’

‘Do you?’ Sadler countered.

Miles didn’t respond.

‘You were at pains to tell us the other day,’ Sadler reminded him, ‘that your wife—’

‘I’m aware of what I said,’ Miles cut in. ‘Now, I think I shouldn’t take up any more of your time.’

‘It’s your decision,’ Sadler told him.

The line went dead.

After putting the phone down Sadler steepled his fingers and began tapping them against his chin.

‘Is that it, sir?’ Joy protested. ‘Are you really going to just drop it?’

His eyes went to hers. ‘What do you suggest we do, Detective Constable?’ he enquired.

She took a breath, all eagerness to reply until she realised she wasn’t very sure. ‘I’m still learning, sir,’ she reminded him.

Sadler smiled. ‘Then I’ll tell you. First of all we’re going to let Mr Avery think we’ve dropped it, then we’re going to find out a little more about this missing forty grand. We only have his word to say Mrs Avery was the one who made the withdrawal.’