It wasn’t difficult to find Nathan Buckland’s house. It was a pristine 1930s bungalow set in a smallholding plot which had been turned into a very well-organised junkyard. It was the last house in the street: beyond it was a straggly coppice, a ragged herald of the adjacent, sprawling Bourne Woods. A bright yellow and blue sign set just inside the front wall proclaimed ‘Buckland’s Scrap Merchants. Best Prices Offered for Silver, Copper, Lead and all Iron and Steel Items’.
Juliet and Ricky had stopped at the top of West Road to ask a man standing in his garden if he knew where Buckland lived. The man gave a few perfunctory directions, but, as he pointed out, it was impossible to miss the scrapyard sign. Pulling up by the sign, they saw there was also a smaller ‘No Parking’ sign in front of the main entrance to the yard. Juliet parked her car beyond it, on the edge of the coppice, and she and Ricky walked back to the gates.
Despite the jaunty, well-kept appearance of the house, there was something about it that Juliet found disquieting. With its long wooden verandah and shuttered windows, all painted dark green, and sand-coloured bricks it seemed like a fake house, a cottage plucked from the pages of a children’s story book.
‘The gingerbread house,’ said Ricky, as if reading her thoughts.
‘Hansel and Gretel?’ said Juliet. ‘Do you think there’s a wicked witch inside?’
Ricky chuckled. He followed Juliet down the path to the door.
It was opened before she could reach it by a youth of about fifteen. Juliet caught only a glimpse of him before he disappeared, leaving the door open. A woman came to stand in the space he’d vacated, framed squarely in the lintel. She was big rather than fat, but she had no waist. Her swarthy olive complexion was crowned by a wreath of dark plaited hair showing grey at the roots. She was not smiling.
‘If you’ve come to see Reg, he’s out,’ she said.
‘DS Armstrong, South Lincs police,’ said Juliet, showing her warrant card. ‘It’s actually Nathan we’ve come to see. Nathan Buckland. Is he your son?’
‘Yes. What has he done?’
‘Nothing as far as we know, Mrs Buckland. We just want a word with him. Is he here?’
‘Yes, but he’s sickly. He’s in no fit state…’
‘It’s all right, Ma.’ Nathan Buckland appeared behind her, clad in a T-shirt and boxers. He donned a pair of grey tracksuit bottoms as he talked, hopping nimbly from one foot to the other. Dressed but still barefoot, he pushed his mother gently to one side.
‘What’s up?’ he said. Juliet saw that his face had a green-ish tinge and his eyes were bloodshot. It looked as if he had genuinely been unwell.
‘May we come in, Mr Buckland?’
‘No,’ came his mother’s voice from the recesses of a room beyond the hallway. ‘It ain’t convenient.’
If Nathan Buckland was embarrassed by his parent he didn’t show it. He looked Juliet boldly in the eye and shrugged.
‘What’s it about?’
‘It’s about Martha Johnson, Mr Buckland. When did you last see her?’
‘When she was talking to you yesterday. Why?’
‘She’s been reported missing. Probably nothing to worry about: it’s not been twenty-four hours yet.’
She was watching Buckland’s face closely. It was already pale and drawn. Did she imagine a flicker of trauma pass across his features?
‘She works odd hours. You talked to the boss?’ Nathan swallowed.
‘Yes. It was Mr Fovargue who reported her missing.’
‘Well, I don’t know owt about it. Sorry.’
‘Thank you, Mr Buckland. Will you be back at work tomorrow? Do you work Saturdays?’
‘Yes. Why?’
‘We have to know where to find you. In case we need to talk to you again.’
‘You’re best off talking to Josh, then. He’s the one as keeps the work schedule. I’ll like as not be out somewhere.’
‘Thank you, Mr Buckland, we’ll bear that in mind.’
‘Is that all? Because I’m catching my death out here.’
‘Yes, thank you, we won’t trouble you further.’
As Juliet turned away from the door, a red pick-up stopped in the road outside the house. Two men climbed out of it, one in his twenties, the other middle-aged. The younger man took one look at them and disappeared behind one of the neat stacks of scrap metal. The middle-aged man came striding up the path towards them. He wasn’t tall but quite thick-set and his manner was pugnacious.
‘What’s going on here?’ he said.
‘Nowt, Dad, it was just summat to do with work,’ said Nathan Buckland. His manner towards his father was deferential, even cowed.
‘Aye, well don’t bring your work troubles here. I don’t know why you wanted to cut adrift, anyway. You’d be better off working with us.’ He glowered at Ricky, ignoring Juliet.
‘Coppers, are you?’
Ricky stared at him.
‘Wondering how I know? I’ve seen plenty of your kind in my time. Has the lad got himself into some sort of trouble?’
‘Not that we know of, Mr Buckland. Someone he works with didn’t turn up for work today, that’s all. It’s caused a bit of concern, but it’s probably nothing to worry about. We just wanted to know when your son last saw her.’
‘Right,’ said Reg Buckland, pushing past Juliet to go into the house. Nathan Buckland had already disappeared again.
Reg Buckland closed the door firmly behind him.
‘You’re very quiet,’ Ricky said to Juliet as they drove away. ‘Was there something about that little do that bothered you? Apart from just being pissed off by the rudeness, I mean.’
‘Rudeness doesn’t get to me these days. Water off a duck’s back.’
Ricky tried to look as if he believed her. They drove on in silence for a few minutes before Juliet suddenly spoke again. Her voice was sharp.
‘Did you get a look at the kid who went back inside the house before Nathan Buckland showed up?’
‘Yeah, looked just like him, didn’t he? They both remind me of someone else I’ve seen recently, too.’
‘I’m pretty certain that kid was my peeping Tom.’
‘What peeping Tom? I didn’t know about that?’
‘I’d forgotten that I didn’t tell anyone. At the station, that is,’ said Juliet, with her usual scruple to tell the truth. ‘There was a kid leering through my window at me after I took a shower the other evening.’
‘What happened?’
‘I screamed and he disappeared.’
‘You should have reported it.’
‘Like you were keen to report that you’d been mugged? You know as well as I do it could’ve caused more trouble than it was worth.’
‘Didn’t it shake you up?’
‘A bit. But I had someone with me.’
Ricky grinned.
‘I see,’ he said.