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Illustration by Stan Fellows
Chapter Thirty-Three
JEN RAFFERTY HAD BEEN ENJOYING her time at home with the kids. When they’d been younger she’d found it hard to deal with them after she’d been away at work for a while. She’d thought she should be delighted to see them again, but it had never been like that. She knew a good mother would miss her children and love their company, but each time she returned to the house, the noise and the chaos had come as a shock. It had taken her a while to get used to the fights, the rolling around on the floor, the hyper behaviour and disobedience. She’d known they were playing up, punishing her perhaps for her absence, for taking them away from their father. In the end, the children would calm down, become easier to manage again, but those first few hours of renewed contact had been a nightmare. At work she was in control. At home, it had seemed, she had no control at all.
Now, it was easier. If she was honest, it was easier because she didn’t see so much of the children. They were more independent. They spent a lot of time in their rooms, sleeping until midday if left to themselves. She wasn’t so overwhelmed by their demands. They were better company too. She could share jokes with them; they found the same things funny. She liked them as people as well as loving them because they were her children.
Today she prised them out of bed by ten and drove them to Instow for brunch. A treat. The tiny cafe did the best sausage sandwiches in the world, and the very best coffee. Instow was where the two rivers met and across the wide stretch of water she could see Crow Point, where the dead man had been found. The view gave her a new perspective, not just on the landscape but the case. Although she’d determined to give Ella and Ben her full attention, she found her mind wandering back to that first afternoon of the investigation, to the assumptions they’d made about Walden, the complexities that had since emerged.
It was midday and she’d just arrived home when her phone rang. Matthew.
‘You’re not going to tell me you want me there yet, boss.’ She was still relaxed after the meal, after larking around with her kids. ‘I was thinking I’d spend an hour taming my garden before coming in to the station.’
‘We’ve got another missing person. Lucy Braddick. She seems to have disappeared into thin air. Barnstaple high street full of shoppers on a Saturday morning.’ There was something close to despair in his voice. ‘Maurice is in bits.’
‘Where do you need me?’ Not joking now.
‘I’m with Maurice in Lovacott. I thought it was best to bring him back here. Ross has got a recent photo. Can you join him in the town centre? Someone must have seen her. She’d stand out, be noticed. Talk to shopkeepers and passers-by.’
The kids had already disappeared back to their respective bedrooms. She shouted up that she had to go in to work. They called back but seemed unbothered.
It was lunchtime in the town. Jen ended up walking from home, because she thought it would be quicker and she could look out for Lucy on the way. According to Matthew, Lucy and Maurice had planned to go to the park for ice cream when they’d finished shopping, and if she’d lost sight of her dad, the woman might have continued on her way there alone.
The breeze blew the river into little waves and the smell of mud and saltmarsh came to her across the grass and the freshly dug flower beds. A fusion of the wild and the tamed. Jen thought that summed up this part of Devon. She stood for a moment, looking into the playground where parents were pushing children on swings, or staring at their phones while their offspring amused themselves. That would have been her, she thought. The bad parent. Today it was mostly dads. Maybe they were single fathers, spending time with their kids. Or just thoughtful men, giving the mothers a couple of hours to catch their breath. There must be some thoughtful men in the world.
No Lucy.
Jen walked on faster, taking the path that ran alongside the river. Past the museum and across the road to the high street. She phoned Ross.
‘Any news?’
‘Nothing. Where are you?’
‘Just coming into the high street. I checked out Rock Park on the way, but there was no sign of Lucy there.’ She was walking so fast that she had to catch her breath.
‘I’ll meet you.’
She saw him before he noticed her. He was handing out photos, but as if he was in a rush, not taking time to chat to the shoppers. He’d be a better detective if he learned some patience, but she’d probably been the same when she was younger. Needing action. Desperate for progress.
‘I’ve done the high street,’ he said. ‘A few people recognized her. They’d seen her with her dad, but nobody saw her on her own. And there was no sign of a scuffle.’
‘So, what do we think happened?’ Jen was remembering a time when Ella was three, just refusing the pushchair. They’d been in a busy shop in Liverpool, and the girl had disappeared, vanished as if she’d been part of a magician’s trick. Jen had been frantic, imagining her daughter snatched and terrified, imagining too her husband’s reaction to the lack of care. Because it would have been her fault and she’d have to pay. A shop assistant had found the girl in one of the changing rooms, wearing a hat she’d taken from one of the shelves. It was so big that it almost hid her face, she was standing on a chair and staring into the mirror. There’d been a rush of relief, and Jen had been crying and laughing at the same. She’d never told Robbie. It would just have been another excuse for his fury.
Nobody had seen Ella go, although she’d been wearing a bright green dress and she had a mass of red curls. People’s attention had been focussed on shopping or on talking to their friends. Now, Jen thought, an elephant could wander down the middle of Barnstaple high street and not everyone would notice. ‘I don’t know,’ Ross said. ‘Maybe it was someone she knew, someone she trusted …’
‘Maybe.’ Jen wasn’t so sure. She didn’t know enough about people with Down’s syndrome, but from what Matthew had said, Lucy had been sparky, confident, kind. If someone had asked for her help, maybe she’d have gone with them, even if it had been a stranger. ‘Can you check out CCTV for the street? I’ll give it one more canvass. I might pick up some people you missed.’
And I’ll give them time to think, not make them hurry or panic. He nodded. She saw him disappear into a bakery, and thought he’d be getting his lunch before going back to the police station. That made her think about Lucy; she was a big woman, who clearly liked her food. Walden had befriended her with sweets when they’d started chatting on the bus. She might have become distracted, for example, by the offer of a free sample of cake or biscuit, lured away from the crowds on the main street.
She walked back up the street, pulling people into conversation about Lucy, describing her clothes, making her real for them. ‘You might have seen her around with her dad. She’s here most Saturdays. She goes to the day centre at the Woodyard. A lovely smile. She’s gone missing and her dad’s in a dreadful state. You can imagine.’
There was only one sighting of Lucy on her own. The owner of a gift shop, just across the street from where Maurice had been chatting to Pam, had seen her.
‘She was out on the pavement, looking in at the window display. It is lovely, though I say so myself. I waved to her and she waved back. It was quiet, nobody else in the shop. It’s that time of year, isn’t it, between Christmas and Easter. There’s always a bit of a lull. No, I didn’t see her talking to anyone.’ The woman was happy to chat. As she’d said, the shop was quiet. She must be bored.
‘You didn’t see anyone approaching her? Or looking in at the window at the same time as she was?’
The woman thought for a moment. ‘She turned away. I think someone tripped on the pavement and she turned around to watch, or to help. I didn’t see her after that.’
‘Did you see the person who tripped?’
‘Not really. Not in any detail. There was just a bit of a crowd suddenly, someone talked about calling an ambulance. You know how it is, when there’s a bit of a drama. People start staring. The shop door was open so I could hear a little bit of what was said.’
‘You didn’t go out to see what was going on?’ Because Jen thought this woman would want to see. If she was as bored as she seemed, she’d surely be curious.
‘No, I was just on my way to see if I could help when the phone rang at the back. A customer with an order. By the time I came into the shop again, everything was back to normal. The ambulance never turned up, so I suppose the person who fell hadn’t really hurt themselves.’
Jen swore in her head, using words that would have made even Ben blush. If the woman had been in a position to see, she would have made a great witness. Jen hoped the incident had been captured on CCTV. At least they’d know where to start looking.
‘You must have seen who fell, though? Was it a man or a woman?’
‘I’m sorry, I didn’t really see. By the time I’d got to the door, people were standing between me and the person lying on the pavement.’ She paused. ‘I think it was a man. I got a glimpse of jeans and trainers. But really I can’t be sure.’
‘Was Lucy still there then?’
‘Yes! She was there, on the edge of the group, watching. I saw her just before the phone rang.’
‘And when you got back into the shop?’
‘I told you. Everyone had gone then. Nobody was there.’
Back on the pavement, Jen had more questions for the passers-by. ‘Did you see someone fall earlier today? A woman with Down’s syndrome helping them up?’
But the incident had happened nearly two hours before and these were new shoppers just passing through. Jen questioned the assistants in the shops nearby. They hadn’t seen anyone fall.
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