The Long Call (Two Rivers #1) - Ann Cleeves Page 0,43

was already full when Jen arrived at the police station and she’d made an effort to get in early so she could catch up with Ross before they started. She’d felt a flutter of excitement as she climbed the stone steps to the door. A relief at escaping the house and the demands of the family. Matthew Venn was there at the front, chatting to the crime scene manager. Ross was hovering beside them, obviously trying to get a word in, not realizing that he’d just piss them both off by interrupting. He had the social skills of a worm, but because he was Oldham’s favourite nobody had the nerve to tell him. Jen went up and tapped him on the shoulder, got him to turn around so he wouldn’t seem to be hassling them.

‘Any news on the phone call?’

‘Yeah, it’s just come through. I was going to tell the boss.’ He shot a glance over his shoulder.

‘Well, now you can tell me.’

Ross was just about to speak when Venn called everyone to order. The room fell silent so quickly that the inspector seemed a little shocked, as if he was surprised by the authority he had. Jen loved that about him: his lack of macho bullshit, his courtesy.

He stood in front of them and spoke just loud enough for them all to hear. He knew there was no need to shout. They’d all be listening. ‘Let’s get through this as quickly as we can, shall we? We’ve all had a long day. Ross, I know you’ve been doing the detailed work here in the station. Anything worth-while from the callers after this morning’s media?’

‘We managed to phone everyone back. I’ve left a report with the contact list on your desk.’

‘Anyone been in touch admitting to owning one of the cars Colin Marston saw parked by the dunes the afternoon of the murder?’

Jen thought that interview with the Marstons in the toll keeper’s cottage felt like weeks ago. That was how it was at the beginning of a case: so many people and ideas crammed into just a couple of days, time seeming elastic.

‘Two,’ Ross said. ‘The elderly couple with the Volvo. But it doesn’t sound hopeful – they said they were walking the other way, down the river and away from the point. They’ve left contact details and I said someone will be in touch.’

‘Anything else?’

‘A few possible leads. A woman called Bale claims to have seen Walden in conversation with a woman in a cafe in Braunton yesterday.’

‘That could be significant and needs following up,’ Jen said. ‘According to Caroline Preece, Walden didn’t need a lift into Barnstaple yesterday morning because he was skipping his group therapy session. He’d told her there were things he needed to sort out. She thought he was going to Kingsley House to discuss his return to work, but we know now that couldn’t have been true. They weren’t prepared to have him back.’

‘And he’d have had to go through Braunton to get to Crow Point,’ Matthew nodded, agreeing it could be important. ‘We know he doesn’t drive any more, but he could have walked it from there, just about. So that’s an action for tomorrow: get the witness in to make a statement. She can give us a description of the woman Walden was with and if we’re lucky, she’ll have overheard them talking.’ He paused. ‘There was also a phone message left for Walden. Jen, you heard it on the landline voicemail at the house in Ilfracombe.’

‘I took a recording.’ She got out her phone and played it. The male voice sounded thin and tinny in the big room. ‘It could just be an old friend, trying to get in touch, but I don’t know…’ She looked around the room. ‘It might be my imagination, but I think I can hear a threat in there.’

Nobody spoke; they were unwilling to commit themselves.

‘Do we know who it is?’ Matthew asked.

Ross stuck his hand up, too eager, too desperate to impress. Jen wondered if she’d ever been like that.

‘It came from a mobile phone registered to a guy named Springer. Alan Springer. He lives in Bristol.’

‘That makes sense – after all, it’s where Walden comes from. Of course, it could just be an old friend, but it would have taken an effort to track Walden down at the Ilfracombe address. He must really have wanted to speak to him. I think you’re right, Jen. There’s something a bit odd about it.’ Venn looked