Think of the Children (4 page)

She didn’t need to check to remember the name of the person whose car had been taken because she had been so taken with ‘Daisy Peters’ on the front of the report. Without
meeting her, Jessica thought the name conjured thoughts of summer meadows and sunshine which perhaps wasn’t quite an accurate picture given the weather.

The woman’s driveway was clear, backing onto a closed bright white garage door. A narrow pathway ran along the tarmac, separating it from a small patch of grass. Every property on the
estate looked the same.

Izzy made her way around the car and Jessica resisted the urge to ask if she was all right. She herself had no particular wish for a baby or even a husband, but she figured the last thing she
would want if she were pregnant was someone asking her every five minutes if she was okay.

They cut across the drive and reached a white double-glazed door next to a bay window that jutted out into the front garden. Jessica went to ring the doorbell but, before she could, the door
swung open and a woman with short blonde hair stood in front of them. ‘I saw you through the window,’ she said. ‘Come on in, the kettle’s already on. I’m
Daisy.’

Jessica made sure she wiped her feet as, even from the doorway, it was clear the interior of the house was incredibly neat. The woman led them along a short hallway into a living room completely
free of clutter. There was a computer desk at one end, with a sofa and two armchairs at the other facing a television. Daisy asked if they wanted tea and, after receiving two positive replies, left
the room.

Izzy blew out through her teeth. ‘If she does her own cleaning, she can come round mine any time.’

Jessica nodded in agreement. ‘Clean people always creep me out.’

‘Why?’

‘I don’t know, I guess I just think it’s weird.’

‘What, tidying up?’ Izzy again seemed part-puzzled, part-bemused.

‘Maybe, I don’t know.’

Jessica used the time to take in the room. It wasn’t that Daisy was a suspect but she had found over the years that a lot could be learned simply by watching, or looking at family photos
of graduations or weddings. The walls of this house were completely free from decoration, except for an analogue clock hung above the flat television that was sitting on a pine cabinet.

‘What do you reckon?’ Jessica asked in a loud whisper. She was fairly confident of her own conclusions but wanted to know what her colleague thought.

Diamond was as driven as anyone Jessica had met and she knew the constable wanted to be as good at her job as she could be. For now it was a guessing game but the red-haired woman played along.
‘Single?’ Jessica nodded to indicate she agreed. ‘Clean freak, obviously.’

‘Why, though?’

The constable screwed up her face slightly. ‘I don’t know. Parents?’

‘I reckon it’s rented. No photos, no real furniture.’ Jessica pointed towards the computer desk. ‘I think she works from here too. Maybe she’s a rep or
something?’

Izzy shrugged. ‘Does that matter?’

‘Maybe. We don’t know who the driver of her stolen car is – or even if he was the one who took it. If whoever it was knew the area, or lived locally themselves, they might have
noticed a single woman on her own moving into a house. The report said the car was taken from her driveway.’

Daisy interrupted as she returned carrying three mugs, which she put on the coffee table before sitting in an armchair opposite the sofa both detectives were on. She smiled but seemed a little
nervous.

‘I know my car was in an accident yesterday because someone called,’ she said. ‘I saw the photos on the Internet and I’ve been talking to the insurance company.
They’re sorting me out with a courtesy car but I’m not really sure what I can help you with …’

News about what they had found in the car’s boot had been kept quiet and Jessica wasn’t about to give anything away.

‘We’d like to go back over the details you’ve already given,’ Jessica said. ‘I know you’ve already told someone about it but we might have a few different
questions.’ Daisy cradled her mug, shrugging as if to say it wasn’t a problem so Jessica continued: ‘Can you tell us what exactly happened?’

Daisy took a drink of her tea then put it down on the table. She looked slightly embarrassed as she started to talk. ‘I know it sounds stupid now but, at the time, I didn’t think
anything of it. Basically, I used to lose my keys all the time. They’d show up everywhere: in the fridge, under chairs, in my shoes, all over. So I got this key-rack thing and hung it in the
hallway. It meant that I couldn’t walk through the front door without seeing it. Every time I got home, I’d see the rack and hang my keys up.’

Jessica had a similar problem with losing her keys and phone and knew exactly where the story was going as Daisy took another drink before tucking a strand of her short hair behind her ear and
continuing.

‘The insurance company are being arsey about it because they say they haven’t yet determined if I’m to blame. Either way, I’d hung my keys up as usual a few nights ago
after going to the supermarket. I work from home, so I’d done some stuff on the computer, watched a bit of TV, and then gone to bed. I came down the next morning and had been working but then
I had to meet a client. I went to the rack but the car keys were missing. It was after lunch and I’d not even noticed. I checked everywhere because at first I thought I’d forgotten to
hang them up. Then, after about half an hour, I looked outside and realised the bloody car was gone.’

Daisy was speaking more and more quickly, as if she couldn’t get the words out fast enough. She had also begun to play with her hair, pulling strands out from behind her ear and curling
them with her fingers before tucking them away again.

‘I didn’t know what to think,’ she added. ‘I called you, of course, and the guy on the phone said he thought someone might have hooked my keys out through the letterbox.
I went and had a look but there was no sign, although I’m not sure that there would be. The investigators came round and said they were looking for footprints or fingerprints but didn’t
seem to find anything. They didn’t sound confident but left me with a number to give to the insurance company. Then I got the call yesterday saying my car had been in an accident.
That’s about it really.’

Izzy had been taking notes, although Jessica knew Daisy hadn’t revealed anything they didn’t already know. She let her colleague finish writing before moving on. ‘How long have
you lived here, Daisy?’

‘Not long, a few months. I work as a rep for this electronics company. They’re based in London but trying to break into the north. They pay half the rent because it counts as an
office and I pay the rest. The money’s good, which is one thing, I guess. I’ve still got a flat down south, which is where most of my stuff is. I don’t know if this is going to be
a long-term thing yet.’

Jessica resisted the urge to smile at having her suspicions confirmed and took a sip of her own tea. She asked some follow-up questions about whether Daisy had seen anyone suspicious, or if she
knew anyone locally who was familiar with her domestic situation. The lack of a clear photo of the driver didn’t give them much else to work with. It seemed pretty clear Daisy was simply
waiting for the call so she could move back south and hadn’t made much effort to integrate into the area.

As they were getting ready to leave, Jessica’s phone rang. She apologised to Daisy and stepped quickly into the hallway.

Rowlands’s mobile number flashed onto the screen. ‘What’s up?’ Jessica asked.

‘Are you on your way back?’

She knew her colleague well enough to know from his tone that he was excited about something. ‘Not quite, we’re just leaving. What’s going on?’

Rowlands paused as if for dramatic effect. ‘We know where the key comes from.’

Jessica felt a small surge in her chest as she always did when something important happened. She resisted the temptation to say anything nice. ‘Took you long enough.
Where’s it from?’

Rowlands laughed. ‘I knew you’d be appreciative. We’re pretty sure it comes from an allotment shed. We’d been going around in circles talking to hotels and the like, and
then one of the uniform boys came in and reckoned his dad had a key just like it. We spoke to the council who were as useful as ever but they put us on to some allotment society secretary guy who
knew what he was talking about. We emailed him a photo of the key and he knew straight away where it was from. He said something about it being colour-coded by the fob. Anyway, we’re heading
out there now. The DCI was going to phone you to say to meet there but then he got called away along with Jason.’

‘Have we got anything back from the clothes we found?’

‘I don’t think so.’

‘Right, where am I meeting you?’

‘You know the reservoir out Gorton way? There’s a big plot near there. Just call if you can’t find it but we’ll wait for you.’

Jessica hung up and quickly said her goodbyes to Daisy before heading off in the car with Izzy. The rain had finally stopped and she could feel the beginnings of that buzz that could herald
finding something horrific or something else that could help break a case.

‘You were right about the woman,’ Izzy said after Jessica had found her way off the estate back onto the main road.

‘When I’m not comparing people’s unborn children to salted snacks I’m not too bad.’

Izzy laughed. ‘I don’t know how you get to a point where you just see things.’

Jessica shrugged with one shoulder as she continued to drive. ‘Practice. When I first got out of uniform there was this old DI guy called Harry who let me tag along. He seemed to know
everyone and everything. We were around this bloke’s house once for an interview. He asked if I wanted tea. I wasn’t fussed and said “no” but then Harry asked for one
anyway. I was annoyed because I thought he was wasting time but then, while the guy was in the kitchen, Harry was poking around and sizing the place up. He reckoned you should never turn down a
drink whether you want one or not because, while the owner’s away from the room, it gives you a chance to look at the walls, the furniture and the carpets, things like that, and assess what
you might be up against.’

‘Clever.’

‘I know. Sometimes you’ll be talking to actual suspects, but most of the time it’ll just be a witness. Either way, you never know what might happen or whether someone might
slip up, so you learn to look for things.’

‘Like what?’

‘I don’t know, maybe stray shoes in a hallway? What size are they? Could they be male, female or a child’s? That kind of thing. It gives you a feel of the type of circumstance
someone might be living in. Daisy seems pretty straight-up but it does sound as if whoever took her car knew about her living arrangements. Who knows, maybe they’d knocked on her door once
and saw the keys hanging?’

‘Like a postman?’

‘Or a neighbour or someone else that knew she was an outsider living on her own. She said she didn’t recognise the photo of the driver but perhaps that just means someone else took
the vehicle? Something about him needing a map still doesn’t sit right. Ultimately, you get used to picking up on these things.’

Izzy paused for a few moments, taking in Jessica’s words. ‘So what’s this Harry guy’s last name? Does he work in a different district?’

‘It’s Harry Thomas. He’s … retired.’ Jessica felt uneasy talking about the man. He had been stabbed in a bar fight a few years previously and, after spiralling down
into alcoholism, had had to quit the force while the person who attacked him was acquitted by a jury. It then emerged he could have been involved in inadvertently protecting Randall Anderson, the
serial killer who tried to murder Jessica and was currently in a high-security hospital. Only Jessica knew about his possible connection to Harry but she had never looked into it properly for fear
of finding out it was true. At least by not knowing she still had some good memories of the person who had mentored her but if those were taken away, she’d have nothing but bitterness.

Perhaps it was Jessica’s tone but Izzy didn’t pursue the question. Instead they drove in relative silence, even when they were held up in unexpected traffic at Ardwick Green. Suited
and booted crowds were streaming out of the theatre, even though it was the afternoon, leading Jessica to assume there was a corporate event going on. If she had been driving a marked car, she
would have flicked on the lights but instead she waited with as much patience as she could muster.

Jessica didn’t know exactly where they were going but the allotments were signposted and two marked police cars were already parked in front of a wide metal gate which separated the plots
from the road. As Jessica pulled in behind the vehicles, Rowlands got out of the one at the front and came towards her.

‘Do we know who runs plot sixty-one then?’ she asked, pulling on a jacket.

‘Sort of. We found out that the council owns the land but the running of it is handed over to individual allotment societies. Each society has a secretary. The one from here is the guy
that identified the key for us. Anyway, he says number sixty-one has been registered to a “Glenn Harrison” for the best part of twenty years.’

‘I don’t recognise the name.’

Rowlands shook his head. ‘No, and we don’t have anyone in our files that would fit it either. The secretary read us the guy’s address but …’

‘… it doesn’t exist.’ Jessica finished the constable’s sentence with a slight wince as he nodded to confirm she was right. Izzy had walked around the vehicle and
heard the final part of the conversation.

‘So who pays for the land, then? Isn’t it like fifty quid a year or something?’ she asked.

‘Er, yeah. How do you know that?’ Rowlands replied.

‘My dad used to keep a plot. I think he just went there to get some peace to be honest.’

Rowlands gave her a ‘don’t blame him’ look, adding, ‘The secretary says it’s forty-eight quid a year. He checked his files and said Harrison paid in cash. He
reckons the society are trying to get people to switch to direct debits and the like but a lot of their members are older and will only deal in cash.’