Читать книгу Tick Tock - Mel Sherratt - Страница 15

Grace was back in Nick’s car. Emma Gillespie had left hers at work and he was driving them to the family home. Grace tried to drown out the sobs of the woman sitting behind her.

In the picturesque village of Stanley, they turned into Puddy Lane. Nick slowed down to pass two riders on horses and then pulled into the garden of a cottage-style dormer bungalow that seemed to have undergone a huge renovation. Benefitting from cream rendering and sage-coloured windows, it looked a quirky place to call home. A terrace at the front overlooked fields, sheep frolicking in the one next to them making Grace envious. She wanted to marvel and say what a lovely place to live, but it wasn’t the time.

A man she assumed to be Alan Gillespie was waiting in the doorway. He ran out of the house as soon as they arrived. Emma fell into his arms and sobbed.

Grace found herself looking away for a moment. Things like this still upset her, making her think of her own loss. As well as losing her mother in 2017, she had been a widow for two years when she’d arrived in Stoke-on-Trent. Her husband, Matt, had been diagnosed with acute myeloid leukaemia in 2013, and although nearly three years had passed since his death in 2016, she was still getting over it. She was still grieving for him, but with her new partner’s help, she’d been healing the gap left behind.

Nick and Grace gave the couple time to comfort each other and then followed them inside. Emma had dropped to her knees at the foot of the stairs. In her arms, she clutched a hooded jumper that had been hanging on a coat hook.

‘She was my baby,’ she sobbed. ‘Why would anyone do that to her?’

‘Let’s get you seated in the living room,’ Alan said, wiping his cheeks. ‘We need to be strong now, give the police as much information as they need to catch the bastard that …’ His voice broke as he helped Emma to her feet.

Once everyone was seated, Nick began to question them.

‘Are you aware of anyone who might have wanted to harm your daughter?’ he asked. ‘Was she having any problems? Maybe her friends, or a boyfriend?’

Emma shook her head. ‘She seemed happy. I don’t think anything was bothering her.’

‘Did she get on with her father?’

‘Yes. She visited him every other Friday and stayed over until Saturday evening. We had quite an amicable split. We’d just grown apart. He’s a good man.’

‘Could we have a look around her room?’ Nick asked eventually after covering everything necessary.

‘She isn’t hiding anything,’ Emma told him. ‘She hasn’t even experimented with drugs, nor had a cigarette.’

‘To our knowledge,’ Alan admitted. ‘She’s a good girl, but like any of us at that age, she could be telling us one thing but doing something completely different.’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ said Emma.

‘Nothing.’ Alan looked sheepish. ‘I’m trying to understand what’s happened. Lauren went to school. She should have been safe there! I want to see the headmaster, demand an enquiry.’

‘All in good time,’ Grace tried to appease him. ‘You need someone to blame – I understand that. But please, you also need to stay strong for each other.’

‘What do you know?’ Emma snapped. ‘You can’t even tell us who killed her!’

‘We’re gathering evidence as quickly as possible.’ Nick nodded at Grace, who took it as her cue to stand up.

‘Her room, Mrs Gillespie?’

‘It’s the second door on the right upstairs,’ she replied. ‘I … I don’t want to go in there just yet.’

Grace shook her head. ‘You don’t have to. I promise I will be careful.’

Lauren Ansell’s bedroom was fitted out in silver, white and purple. Lilac curtains were half open, as if she’d left in a rush that morning, the duvet on the bed pulled back haphazardly. There was a pile of clothes on a chair underneath the window and a stack of shoes by the skirting board. The air was full of the scent of deodorant and perfume.

A lilac laptop stood open on a small desk in front of the window. Slipping on latex gloves, Grace tapped a key to see if the screen would wake up, but it was switched off. She’d take it with her to see if there was anything on there. Social media platforms – Twitter, Facebook, Snapchat, WhatsApp, Instagram – might tell them what they needed. So, too, would Lauren’s phone, which had been found in her school bag. She would set Sam on them both once they were all back at the station.

Next, she went over to a set of drawers. Gently pushing aside the clothing, she rummaged around, checking the tops and bottoms to see if anything had been taped down, but there was nothing.

She skimmed her eyes over the dressing table, inside the make-up bag. She flicked through a pile of magazines and several books, but nothing dropped out.

Across the room, the wardrobe was crammed with clothes fighting for space. Grace rifled through pockets, but there was nothing hidden away there, either.

The final place she looked was under the mattress, for a diary. She’d left it until last because it was the obvious place and as a teenager, she’d hidden hers everywhere but there. Always less risk of someone else discovering it.

There was nothing.

‘What happened to you?’ she whispered.

Standing in the middle of the room, she had a sense that Lauren was a loved and happy teenager. She bet she had the odd row with her parents about pushing boundary lines, but there seemed no obvious signs of neglect. Lauren had a lot of the latest fashion in clothes and accessories; she didn’t seem to want for anything. Grace had a feeling she’d be missed dearly.

Spotting photos around the dressing table mirror, Grace leaned forwards to see. They were mostly of Lauren. A few with her in a group of girls, all of them with long blonde hair. And there was one of Lauren with twins. Grace frowned as she looked closer.

‘She was a popular girl,’ a voice said behind her. ‘I’ve known her since she was six.’

Grace turned to see Alan Gillespie.

‘They were always making a lot of noise.’ He pointed to the photo. ‘They used to come here often. I think Emma let her have a bit more freedom than was necessary.’

‘Indoors?’

‘Yes.’

‘I think that’s much better than giving her freedom outdoors,’ Grace acknowledged. ‘It means she was at least safe, even if you did have to tell her to pipe down every now and then. Do you know the names of these girls?’

He took the photo from her. ‘The twins are Courtney and Caitlin Piggott, although I never know which one is which.’ He pointed to another girl. ‘Sophie – Sophie Bishop. The one at the end is Teagan Cole.’

Grace had already recognised Teagan and knew she was going to be upset. Come to think of it, she might have met Lauren herself, albeit briefly, when she’d given her and Teagan a lift back to Teagan’s house with her father, Simon. Losing a friend at such a young age would leave a gap.

She spotted another photo of Lauren with a boy. She pulled it towards her and the sticky tape on the back of it gave way. Looking closer, she saw he was about the same age as Lauren and wondered if he went to Dunwood Academy, too.

She turned to ask Alan, but he was no longer there. When she could find nothing else, she took the laptop and the photos downstairs.

‘Who’s this with Lauren?’ She held it up so that both parents could see it.

‘Dylan Corden,’ Emma told them. ‘He was a boy she met on holiday in Greece last year. He lives in Leeds.’

‘Was Lauren in contact with him?’

‘Only online. We haven’t seen him or his family since. As far as I know, it was a holiday romance.’

‘Did she still talk about him?’

Alan shook his head. ‘Not since she started dating Tom.’

‘Tom?’

‘Thomas Riley. I haven’t heard her mention Dylan in a long time.’

‘Does Thomas attend Dunwood Academy, too?’

Alan nodded. ‘He’s been here a few times as well. Seemed okay to me – even though you worry about them at that age.’

Grace made a note of his name to check with Perry.

‘May we take these photos?’ she asked. ‘I promise you they will be returned as soon as we’re able.’

‘Take anything you need,’ Emma replied.

‘Do you have a recent one of Lauren, too?’

Grace could see Alan was holding back tears as Emma rummaged around in the sideboard. When she turned back and handed them a photo, her shoulders shook as she cried again.

‘I don’t know who would want to hurt her.’ Emma looked at them both in turn. ‘You have to find out who it was – and why!’

‘We will do everything we can,’ Nick promised.

Once outside the family home and on the way back to the school, Grace turned to Nick.

‘I need to tell you something. There’s a photo of five girls on Lauren’s mirror. One of them is Simon’s daughter, Teagan. I’m letting you know because in no way do I want this brought up later. This won’t be another conflict of interest.’

‘Hey, lighten up,’ Nick replied. ‘It would only become that if she was in a group that had either attacked Lauren or had been injured.’

‘Well, I just wanted to—’

‘Grace, sometimes I’m rather impulsive and I pushed you too far on Operation Wedgwood last year. I did it for my own purposes, as I really wanted to break up the Steele family. I was wrong to put it all on you.’

Grace was shocked. It had taken him six months to say that, and their working relationship had soured because of it. Her predecessor, Allie Shenton, had said Nick was one of the good guys, but until now he had yet to prove it to her. He had pushed her too far, even though they’d caught and charged the killer.

‘I get that you’re worried,’ Nick continued, ‘but I’d say what was more important is that if Lauren is part of a group, then perhaps we need to warn them all to be vigilant. This might be an isolated incident but until we gather more evidence everyone is a suspect, even those twin girls for now. You’re staying on the case, understood?’

‘Understood.’ Grace nodded, glad that was cleared up. She’d wanted to come clean, but there was no way she was going to be under the threat of being removed again.