The Long Call (Two Rivers #1) - Ann Cleeves Page 0,82

Woodyard when she was there that morning handing out the flyers about the missing woman. It was midnight, too late to call Matthew Venn now. It would save until the morning.

Chapter Twenty-Six

ANOTHER MORNING AND MATTHEW WAS preparing for another briefing. It was grey outside and not long past seven, so he’d had to switch on the lights. He stood in the empty room trying to order his thoughts, planning for the day. The priority was to find out what had happened to Christine Shapland. At the moment, they couldn’t eliminate her disappearance from the murder investigation because of the Woodyard connection. That was distracting, so it was important to know if the woman had wandered away or had been taken, and if she’d had any real involvement with Walden. He felt the weight of responsibility for all that was going on and worried again that he might be the wrong man for the job. The stress was growing; tension made his muscles ache and shortened his temper. Soon it would be an effort to keep it under control.

The team started to arrive, early. Keen. Sniffing the possibility of a result. Matthew wasn’t so sure. Optimism had never been his default setting. Ross was laughing and joking with a colleague. Jen slipped in at the back at the last minute. She looked tired, a bit dishevelled. Matthew wondered if she’d been hitting the wine when she got in from the hospital the night before. He wouldn’t have blamed her.

‘Christine Shapland.’ He leaned back against the desk at the front of the room and thought he must look like one of the older teachers at his school, jaded, a bit of a joke. ‘We need to find out what happened to her as a priority. Even if there were no murder inquiry involved, she’s a vulnerable adult and if there was an abduction, we need to find the perpetrator. I’ve just phoned the hospital and she’s fine. She’s going to be allowed home this morning. Jen, I’d like you to wait until she’s home and go to see her. Jonathan’s offered to go with you. He’s known the woman for years and the mother trusts him too. She wants him there for the interview. You met Susan at the hospital and I don’t want to introduce someone new at this stage.’

Jen nodded. Matthew thought she’d rather be a part of the main Walden inquiry but she could see the sense in what he’d asked. He turned back to the room and raised his voice a notch. After all this time he allowed himself to show his impatience. ‘Ross, where are we on Walden’s finances? That missing two hundred grand? It can’t just have vanished into thin air.’

‘I’ve already left a message for the human resources guy at the Kingsley Hotel. I’ll try again now, find out how Walden was paid when he was working there.’

‘I’m sure you find this kind of detail tedious, Ross. Not as exciting as you’d like, but it’s important and I have asked you to treat it as a priority.’

There was a shocked silence in the room. Matthew never criticized a colleague in public. Ross blushed and shifted in his seat, but Matthew was running out of patience with the man; this inability to find Walden’s money was becoming ridiculous. ‘The solicitor who dealt with Walden’s will is coming in this afternoon. If all else fails, he might have some idea about the finances.’

‘I’ll sort it out.’ Ross sounded moody, resentful.

‘Please do.’ Matthew turned his attention back to Jen. ‘Once you’ve spoken to Susan, I’d like you to go back to St Cuthbert’s. Have any of Caroline’s clients suddenly come into money? Or dropped out of the programme unexpectedly? Let’s see if we can find the person who searched Walden’s flat.’

Matthew was about to send them on their way when Jen raised her hand. ‘When I was canvassing the Woodyard service users yesterday, Colin Marston from the toll keeper’s cottage came in. He looked as if he might be there in an official capacity. I didn’t speak to him and I don’t think he recognized me, but it seemed an odd coincidence.’

* * *

Matthew drove to the Marstons’ house immediately after the meeting. From the beginning he’d had a niggle of suspicion about the couple who lived on the edge of the marsh; their interest in the case had seemed disproportionate and they lived not far from the Shaplands’ cottage. There was no reply at the door and