The Long Call (Two Rivers #1) - Ann Cleeves Page 0,88
have been trashed soon before Jen, Matthew and Ross had got there, between the man in the suit leaving with Christine and the detectives turning up to search it. Had they hoped Christine could provide them with the information that they ended up looking for in such a panic? Was that what all the questions had been about?
Jen would have liked to ask more about the questions, but she could see that Jonathan was right and Christine had been through enough. She wouldn’t be able to focus on any further questions. Susan moved over and sat on the arm of her chair and put her arms around her daughter. ‘Don’t you worry, my lover. Nothing like that will ever happen to you again. You’ll stay here with me and I’ll keep you safe.’
* * *
Jen left Jonathan at the Shaplands’ cottage and drove back to Barnstaple. Looking out over the river to the estuary she had a brief pang of homesickness for another river and another estuary. For Liverpool and the Mersey. A city full of life and action. But she knew it was too late for regrets. She parked at the police station and walked through the town to the cobbled alley at the back of St Cuthbert’s church. The noise of traffic and voices faded. She made her way to the back of the old school and found the same woman sitting in reception.
‘I need to speak to Caroline Preece.’
‘I’m afraid she’s with a group at the moment.’
‘I’m a police officer. The police officer who spoke to her before.’
Two women sat on easy chairs in the lobby, chatting; they looked up when Jen said who she was. Curious and a little wary.
‘Could you let Caroline know that I’m here?’
‘I’m not sure.’ The young receptionist looked anxious. ‘She’s running a session for women at the moment and she doesn’t like to be disturbed when she’s with a group.’
‘One of her group was murdered. I think she’ll see me. I’d like to speak to the rest of them too.’
Now the chatting women stared at Jen. She pulled round another chair so she was facing them, half blocking the corridor. The receptionist squeezed past and disappeared into a room. ‘Did you know Simon Walden?’ Jen asked one of the women.
‘Yeah.’ She was very thin. Lank blonde hair and a white top framed a colourless face. ‘He was in my meditation class.’
‘What did you make of him?’
She shrugged. ‘You don’t get much chance to talk if you’re lying on your back with your eyes shut.’
‘What about you?’ Jen turned to the other woman, who was older, dressed like a Tory councillor. ‘Did you know him?’
‘Not really. I just bumped into him here. And a gang of us often go to the Woodyard cafe for lunch when we’re finished and sometimes he’d be cooking.’ A pause. ‘You could tell he was happy there, in the kitchen.’
The receptionist emerged, a little flustered. ‘Caroline’s just finished her session. She’s holding the group for you.’
‘Terrific.’ Jen was already on her feet. She took out two cards, handed them to the women. ‘If you think of anything that might help, give me a ring.’
In the room, about a dozen women sat in a circle. Caroline stood up when Jen walked in. ‘This is Detective Sergeant Rafferty, everyone. She’d like a word.’
This wasn’t quite the approach Jen had been planning. She’d hoped to meet clients individually, get the gossip, ask if anyone had suddenly come into cash. These women were hardly likely to talk to her in front of their mates with a social worker listening in. But they were already fidgeting, wanting to leave for a fag or a coffee, so she’d have to go for it, or she’d lose their attention altogether.
‘You’ll have heard by now that Simon Walden, who was part of this community, was murdered on Monday afternoon.’
‘You think one of us is a killer?’ A tall, intense young woman. ‘Just because we come to this place. Just because we’ve got mental health problems.’
‘No. But Simon was a bit of a loner. You probably knew him as well as anyone.’
Silence and a wall of resentment. Jen knew when she was fighting a losing battle. ‘Look, just think about it, will you? If anyone remembers anything unusual, even if it seems trivial, just give me a ring. I’m especially interested if you’ve noticed that any of your number has suddenly come into money. My name’s Jen Rafferty and this is my direct number and email