They found Nina red-eyed and furious when they reached the house, not the reaction Zigic expected from a mother whose teenaged daughter was missing. When they tried to get her to sit down she only scowled and resumed stalking the length of the entrance hall, ballet pumps tapping against the tiles.
‘How long’s Lily been gone?’ Ferreira asked.
‘Her bed hasn’t been slept in.’ Nina shook her head, fist pressed to her mouth. ‘She must have crept out yesterday evening sometime.’
Not twenty-four hours missing but she was young and grieving and Zigic knew they couldn’t leave her out there on her own.
‘Has Lily ever done anything like this before?’
Nina turned sharply on her heel. ‘No, of course she hasn’t.’
‘You’ve tried her mobile?’
‘She left it here.’
‘Okay, have you called Lily’s friends to see if she’s staying with any of them?’
‘I don’t have their numbers. Not her new friends.’ The disapproval was clear in her voice. ‘Lily was excluded from school last year. I don’t know any of the crowd she hangs around with now. She never brings them home.’
‘Can you give us any of their names?’
‘She doesn’t talk to me about school,’ Nina said, and the first hint of sadness rippled around her chin. ‘She hardly talks to me at all any more.’
Ordinary teenage rebellion, Zigic wondered, or something deeper?
‘Could she have gone to someone Corinne knew?’ he asked. ‘Her family, maybe?’
‘Corinne’s parents are both dead and he was an only child. There isn’t any family for her to go.’
‘And your parents?’
‘They live in France over the winter.’ Nina hugged her arms around herself. ‘There’s only us left now.’
‘What about Brynn’s family?’ Zigic asked. ‘They were close, weren’t they? Have they stayed in touch?’
‘Bob and Maura, yes they did. Maura always wanted a daughter, so …’ She trailed off, making Zigic wonder how well she’d fulfilled the role since becoming involved with Brynn. ‘But I tried them already, Lily isn’t there.’
‘You’ve called Sam?’ Ferreira asked.
‘Why would she go there?’
‘It was Corinne’s home.’
Nina didn’t reply, only dipped her chin and looked away from them both, eyes fixed on a large black canvas hanging like an abyss opposite the front door.
‘Have you called Sam to check?’ Zigic asked.
She shook her head and Ferreira immediately took out her phone, paced away from them into the furthest corner of the entrance hall, her low conversation over in seconds. She nodded at Zigic; Lily found safe and well.
‘Mrs Sawyer, you do realise it’s an offence to waste police time,’ he said.
‘I believed she was missing,’ Nina said fiercely, her voice dropping an octave. ‘Her bed hadn’t been slept in, what else was I going to think? I suppose you’d have preferred not to be bothered.’
‘You thought she was missing but you didn’t think to call the person she was most likely to be with?’
Nina crossed her arms, high over her chest, more defence than defiance. ‘Well … why didn’t she call me to let me know Lily was there? She must have known I’d be frantic. I am not the one in the wrong here.’
They left her to her denial, Zigic feeling a rising sense of annoyance at her for bringing them out here when they had better things to do.
‘Fucking woman,’ Ferreira said, as the front door closed behind them. ‘There’s no way she couldn’t have guessed Lily might go to Sam’s. To not even call and check …’
Zigic waited until they were pulling out of the driveway before he spoke. ‘We should go and fetch the daughter.’
‘Let her go home when she’s ready. Christ, would you want to deal with Nina right now if you were her kid? I’d have run off, too.’
‘The girl’s taken off for a reason, we should talk to her while she’s away from her mother.’
They drove to Corinne and Sam’s house in the next village and Sam Hyde let them in with an apology.
‘If I’d known had Lily snuck out I’d have told Nina she was here. She said Nina knew she was coming round. I didn’t think she’d lie about it.’ She cast a quick glance towards the staircase, where a black parka was thrown over the banister. ‘She can stay here as long as she wants. I think she needs some space.’
‘It’s best we take her home.’
‘You sure that’s what’s best for her?’
‘She’s legally a child,’ Zigic reminded her. ‘Nina’s her legal guardian and we have to respect what she wants.’
Ferreira started up the stairs and Sam looked after her, frowning.
‘Did Corinne keep a copy of her will at home?’ Zigic asked.
Sam turned back to him, a quick snap of the head. ‘Yes – why?’
‘We need to see it.’
She led him through into the kitchen and went to an alcove where a few shelves had been placed to create a workstation, a laptop sitting there, phone and notepads. She pulled out a box file stuffed with paperwork. Not a very secure place to keep a will but not everyone bothered with security and he was glad Corinne hadn’t.
Footsteps raced down the stairs and the front door slammed closed as Sam placed a large manila envelope on the table in front of him. Lots of paper in it, suggesting complicated arrangements.
‘Looks like you’re staying for a bit then,’ she said. ‘Coffee?’
‘Tea would be good, thanks.’
‘You must spend half your life in other people’s kitchens drinking bad tea,’ she said, smiling across her shoulder.
‘It’s not always bad.’
She switched the kettle on and Zigic asked about Brynn’s parents as she made their tea.
‘Have you met them?’
‘A few times, yes,’ she said. ‘They’re really lovely people. I mean, Corinne had a shit time with her own parents. Not because of how she was, they were just horrible, mean-spirited people. Bob and Maura were more like her mum and dad.’
‘Are they local?’
She gave him an address and he made a note of it, thinking that the Morans might be able to give him a window onto the Sawyer family, that perhaps Corinne had confided in them the way she hadn’t to anyone else. In the absence of her birth parents these surrogate ones were the next best thing.
Sam brought over their drinks, placed a biscuit tin in front of him, the same Emma Bridgewater one they had at home, printed with red hearts. He started to reach for a chocolate digestive then thought better of it; no running, no biscuits.
‘I know I shouldn’t ask but it’s all I’ve been able to think about,’ Sam said, gaze directed into the steaming mug she held between her palms. ‘Was Corinne having an affair?’
Zigic thought of everything they had found on Corinne’s phone, wasn’t sure ‘an affair’ was the right description but it was definitely a kind of infidelity.
‘She’d been in contact with men,’ Zigic said, prompting a strangled gasp from Sam.
‘Men?’ Her eyes widened and she bared her small, back-slanting teeth in a grimace. ‘But she wasn’t – she didn’t – oh my God, I can’t believe she did that to me.’
‘We don’t think she was sleeping with any of them. We’re not even sure if she met any of them right now.’
‘Well, I guess that’s something,’ she said, her tone caught between sarcasm and bewilderment. ‘I knew something was wrong. Corinne wasn’t as physical with me as she used to be. We were – God, I can’t believe I’m telling you this – we had a good sex life. We were … creative. I thought I was all she needed.’ Sam shook her head. ‘But, men? I thought she’d met another woman. I don’t even know why this seems worse.’
Zigic felt a prickle of sympathy towards her, thinking of the unconditional support she’d given Corinne, the acceptance and love, and now she was hearing that none of that was enough to keep her from exploring other options.
‘I’ve seen it happen before,’ she said sadly. ‘I was working at the Meadham when we first met, I’d been there for a couple of years, I knew a lot of the girls. I watched them taking their first steps into that world, bringing their wives and girlfriends along. But some of them, the partners fell away, and then they started bringing men in. Chasers – that’s what we call them. It’s a fetish for some guys. Everyone knows that but they don’t care because they want men and they can’t get normal guys so they put up with those freaks.’
‘Are these men regulars on the scene?’ Zigic asked.
‘A couple of them have done the rounds.’ She picked a biscuit out of the tin and dropped it straight back in. ‘They’re playing a game, just the same as the girls are. It’s not something most men are going to boast about. They’re users. Scum.’
‘Did any of these chasers go for Corinne?’
‘Just Sutton.’
‘Sutton – the manager?’
She nodded.
Zigic remembered his broad shoulders and thick arms, the way he spoke about the women, joking but familiar. He’d made no secret of liking them as a group, seemed to enjoy their company and attention.
‘How did Sutton behave around Corinne?’
‘He’s a flirt,’ she said. ‘But he understood that we were together. He tends to go for the new girls. They’re more vulnerable, you know, desperate for approval. Corinne didn’t need that from him, she had me.’ Sam frowned, readjusting her perceptions. ‘I don’t know what to think any more. Maybe she was totally different around him when I wasn’t there.’
‘Like on Monday night?’
‘I should have gone with her.’
‘It wouldn’t have changed anything,’ Zigic said. ‘We don’t even know if the Meadham is part of this.’
She bit her lip. ‘I’ve seen Sutton coming out of the office up there.’
‘With a woman?’
‘Yeah, that’s where he takes them. He doesn’t want to go out with them. He just wants his dick sucked by someone who knows how to do the job.’ She smiled grimly. ‘Who better than a cross-dresser for that, right?’
Zigic didn’t know how to answer, so he took a mouthful of his tea and let the words dissipate before he spoke again, aware of the birdsong beyond the long glass wall and the low hum of the washing machine boxed away behind one of the cupboard doors. Life went on, washing still needed doing, the mundane tasks didn’t stop because you were dying inside.
‘What’s Sutton’s reputation like within the community?’ he asked.
She considered it for a moment. ‘Harmless lech.’
‘Can you be a harmless lech?’
‘He knows where the line is,’ she said. ‘If a girl’s not interested he generally backs off.’
‘Generally?’
‘I heard he got a bit obsessed with one girl, but I don’t know the details.’ Sam shrugged. ‘They’re such a bunch of gossips it might not even be true.’
Or it might be, Zigic thought, picturing Simone Trent and Aadesh, wondering if they were the kind of vulnerable girls Sutton went for. Stunning but not yet sure of themselves in their new guises. If Sutton had seen encouragement which wasn’t there, failed to spot that he’d crossed the line or charged across it focused on getting what he wanted from them. At any cost.