Chapter Thirty-Eight

TIM AND JULIET’S journey to the hospital had taken place in silence. Tim’s mood was unusually sombre. Juliet knew he was distressed by the dead baby, but she wondered if he’d also been disturbed by meeting Patti Gardner. Patti seemed to withdraw ever more into her shell these days. Each time Juliet met her, her figure was more angular and her tongue sharper than on the previous occasion. Juliet didn’t suspect Tim of hankering after a renewal of whatever intimacies he and Patti might once have shared, but she wondered if he felt guilty about the colourlessly austere way in which Patti apparently now lived her life. She sympathised with Patti: she could so easily have fallen into a similar two-dimensional existence herself. She thought again of the evening she’d spent with Louise and her spirits lifted. Louise would probably be at the hospital now. Juliet smiled to herself before glancing sideways at Tim, hoping he hadn’t noticed. She needn’t have worried: he was staring straight ahead, his jaw set, his expression stern, gripping the wheel of his car so tightly his knuckles were white. Only when they’d turned into the hospital gate did he break out of his dark reverie.

“Could you text Ricky MacFadyen and ask him if he’d like to meet us outside? We may not be able to find anywhere private to talk to him in there.”

Juliet tapped away nimbly at her smartphone. Ricky replied almost as soon as she’d sent the message.

“That was quick!” Tim managed a bleak smile.

“He just says ‘yes’.”

“Admirably laconic, but we’ll probably have to text him again to ask where.”

However, when they drove into the car park Ricky was already at the entrance, anxiously waiting for them. Tim halted and gestured to him to get into the back of the car.

“There’s a parking space over there, near the path,” said Ricky. “God, am I glad to see you.”

“Everyone seems to be pleased to see me today, with the possible exception of Superintendent Thornton,” said Tim drily. “To what do I owe your particular joy at my arrival?”

“It’s the Grummetts,” said Ricky. “They’re doing my head in. They seem upset the girl’s gone missing, but they don’t appear to be worried about her, if that makes any sense. I know it sounds stupid. And I can’t make them out – any of them. I can’t decide whether they’re really obtuse or just using the appearance of being thick to cover something up.”

“When you say ‘any of them’, what do you mean? Who’s there, exactly – apart from Ruby Grummett, I mean?”

“Ruby was alone when I arrived. I told the duty nurse why I was there and he said I should wait until the husband came before I told her about Philippa. Apparently her mental state still isn’t good after the accident. He showed up quite quickly. At first, I saw him without her. He was unhelpful, aggressive. He said that he’d told you Ruby wasn’t to be interviewed about the accident without her solicitor present. I said it wasn’t about the accident and explained to him that no-one knew where Philippa was. He was gobsmacked by this, but in a strange way, as if he was afraid of something. I don’t mean afraid something bad had happened to Philippa, but afraid for himself. But I might have imagined it, I suppose. I asked him if Philippa had got in touch with him since yesterday and he said she hadn’t. I said we should ask Ruby if Philippa had called her, perhaps to ask how she was, and he said she wouldn’t have. He seemed sure of that, as if the idea was inconceivable. I asked if Philippa could have phoned her sister and again he said quite flatly that she wouldn’t have. I said I’d need to see the sister even so and he agreed to call her. It took half an hour for the sister to arrive. Her name’s Kayleigh. I said we should tell Ruby and Kayleigh about Philippa’s disappearance at the same time and he agreed to this as well, but then he left me in the waiting room while he went to see Ruby. He said she’d get upset if he didn’t go to her straight away.”

“So you let him see her on his own first?” Tim hoped he sounded as annoyed as he felt.

“He said he wouldn’t tell her about Philippa,” said Ricky feebly.

“If I’d been you . . .”

“Ricky couldn’t really have done anything else, Tim,” said Juliet quietly. “In the eyes of the world, the Grummetts are now double victims: first they’ve suffered the loss of their home and Ruby’s been mentally damaged by an accident that has yet to be proved her fault; now they’ve lost their younger daughter. Whatever we may think, at the moment we have no reason to treat them like suspects.”

Tim sighed.

“I suppose you’re right. I’m sorry, Ricky – I’m not having a good day. Carry on with your story. What happened when Kayleigh Grummett turned up?”

“She didn’t come on her own. Her uncle and aunt were with her. God, that woman smells awful. Kayleigh’s staying with them, apparently. They live at Spalding Common and she works in Boston, but she’s got herself signed off sick. She hardly spoke, actually. Uncle Ivan did most of the talking. I asked both Ruby and Kayleigh if Philippa had been in touch with them and Kayleigh looked at me as if I was mad. The uncle said that no-one had phoned his house recently except Bob, to report on Ruby. I asked Kayleigh if she had a mobile. She said she did, but Philippa didn’t know the number. Very strange. I asked her if she knew where Philippa might have gone and Uncle Ivan intervened again to say that the sisters weren’t close.”

“What about Ruby?”

“She was just hunched up at the top of the bed, staring at everyone with her little black eyes. Bob had obviously spilt the beans about Philippa. Ruby didn’t register any surprise when I said the girl was missing. She didn’t say anything at all and I didn’t push her. I was afraid of provoking some kind of outburst.”

“I suppose that was wise,” said Tim. “She’s thrown a wobbly once already. Put on, most likely, but even if the hospital staff think so, their first duty will be to look after her. Where are all the Grummetts now?”

“Still up there. I asked them to wait until you got here. I know you want to speak to them about the child’s skeleton.”

“They don’t have any inkling about that, do they?”

“No. I don’t see how they could have, unless Peter Cushing told them.”

“He doesn’t know. And I’ve asked him not to contact them. He won’t, either – he doesn’t seem at all anxious to speak to them.”

“I think we should go in,” said Juliet. “Nothing we’ve done so far can make them stay if they don’t want to. I think Ivan Grummett could do a lot of damage if he talks to the Press about them being shabbily treated – not to mention the lawyer they seem to have hired.”

“You’re right,” said Tim. “And the lawyer’s bound to show up sooner or later. We need to talk to them before he gets involved and puts a brake on everything.”

 

When Tim, Juliet and Ricky entered Ruby Grummett’s ward, the four other members of the Grummett family were still huddled around her bed. Tim thought they made an incongruous group. Ruby was lying back on her pillows saying nothing to Bob, who was stroking her hand and whispering to her. Her small black eyes were sharply focused, however, and she spotted Tim first. Elsie was sitting opposite Bob on the other side of the bed chattering inconsequentially to Ruby, who appeared to be ignoring her. Ivan was prodding Bob to attract his attention, but either Bob hadn’t noticed or he’d chosen not to. Kayleigh was engrossed in carrying out some activity on her mobile phone.

Ruby sat up when the three police officers approached. All the others except Kayleigh registered and turned to look.

“Mrs Grummett,” said Tim. “I’m sorry about your daughter, but please rest assured we are doing everything in our power to find her. I’d be grateful if you’d let me check on just one thing, since DC MacFadyen didn’t have the opportunity. I’m sure you would have mentioned it if it had been the case, but she hasn’t tried to contact you, has she?”

Uncle Ivan jumped in immediately.

“She wouldn’t have done that. Little madam, she is. Thinks we’re not good enough for her.”

“Now, Ivan . . .” Elsie began weakly.

“Shut up, woman.”

“Mr Grummett, I must ask you to let your sister-in-law speak for herself.”

“No, she hasn’t been in touch with me,” said Ruby dully.

“Thank you.” There was a slight pause while Tim thought how best to put what he had to say next. He was aware of four pairs of hostile Grummett eyes scrutinising him intensely. Kayleigh put down her phone and stared as well, emulating the others.

Tim cleared his throat.

“This isn’t going to be easy,” he said, “and I do understand that you’ve had an unbelievably tough time already this week, but there is something else I need to say to you – to Bob and Ruby, anyway.” He turned to them. “It’s a sensitive matter. You may want us to speak in private.”

“Send us away, you mean?” said Ivan belligerently. “We’re family and we stick together. Whatever you’ve got to say, Bob wants us here, don’t you, Bob?”

Bob Grummett nodded obediently.

“Mrs Grummett?” said Tim, looking at Ruby.

She shrugged.

“I don’t mind them staying if they don’t want to go.”

Bob had moved closer to Ruby and clasped her hand in his. It made it easier for Tim to observe how both of them reacted to his next sentence.

“I’m sorry to have to inform you that we have discovered the remains of an infant at the site of your home, in one of the outbuildings.”

Bob looked alarmed. Ruby just stared him out.

“Do you have any knowledge of how they might have got there, or the identity of the child?”

“Of course they don’t . . .” Ivan Grummett began.

“Mr Grummett, I must ask you to let me speak to your brother and his wife without interruption. Otherwise I shall have to insist on seeing them alone.”

“The house was more than a hundred years old. They could have been put there at any time,” said Ruby.

“That’s right,” said Bob, leaping in to reinforce her argument.

“How many outbuildings are there, Mr Grummett?” said Tim.

“Two. The old kennels and the old piggery.”

“Do you use either of them?”

“Yes. I keep my tools in the kennels.”

“And the piggery?”

“No. It’s empty.”

“Why don’t you use it? It seems to be quite a strong building. The roof doesn’t leak.”

“Haven’t had much call for it. The kennels is big enough for . . .”

“But you do keep a pig, don’t you, Mr Grummett?”

“Come again?”

Tim felt a surge of irritation which he suppressed with some difficulty.

“You do keep a pig. When you gave a statement to the police about your whereabouts at the time of the accident, you said that you were out on your bike, visiting your pig.”

“Oh, ah. Percy, you mean.”

“No doubt, if Percy’s the name of your pig. Where do you keep Percy?”

“Eh?”

“Where does Percy live?” said Tim, trying not to sound testy.

“Oh, at my mate Bill’s. Out Algakirk way. Bill lets me use an old pigsty on his land.”

“Why do you need to use Bill’s pigsty?”

Bob Grummett’s face assumed a look of intense concentration, though whether he was trying to remember why he kept his pig at Bill’s or was thinking up a plausible reply was impossible to tell.

Kayleigh suddenly chirped up.

“It’s because our pigsty gives him the willies, that’s why. He’s never liked it, not since I can remember. And we was never allowed to play in there.”

“Shut your mouth,” said Ivan savagely.

“I’m not saying any more without my sollicingtor. I need to speak to Mr Dixon.”

 

Tim asked Bob Grummett for his current address – he was still staying at his brother David’s house in Boston – and warned him not to leave the area. He gave Bob his card and said he’d be setting up a formal interview at Boston police station the following Monday, so if he wanted Dixon to be in attendance he should make the necessary arrangements. The other Grummetts sat and stared in silence during this short interlude. Bob himself barely replied, except to say, “Where do you think I’m going with Rube in ’ere?”, jerking his head in the direction of his wife. Ruby herself had closed her eyes.

“What now?” asked Juliet, after the three police officers had left the ward and were walking along the corridor.

“I’d like you to try to find Dr Butler. Ask her if she’s got any plans to discharge Ruby Grummett in the near future. I’m hoping that the answer is that they aren’t ready to release her yet, but you know what hospitals are like at weekends. Can’t wait to get rid of people.”

“I’m sure Louise – Dr Butler – wouldn’t discharge someone just because it was convenient,” said Juliet, flushing.

“You’re probably right. But no offence – it’s not Dr Butler’s ethics that interest me, it’s making sure I know Ruby Grummett’s whereabouts.”

“What do you want me to do now?” Ricky asked.

Tim smiled mischievously.

“I’d like you to go and talk to Philippa Grummett’s teachers. That shouldn’t take you all afternoon. After that, there’s a little job that I’d asked Andy to do that I’d put on the back burner, but now we’ve established that those are a child’s remains at the lodge, it’s moved a bit higher up the list of priorities.”

Ricky groaned.

“I think I know what you’re going to say. It’s about sifting through the Grummetts’ shitty possessions, isn’t it?”

“You got it in one,” Tim grinned. “But go to the school first. And be as thorough as you can. We think there’s something dodgy about Richard Lennard, the headteacher at Spalding High School. If you smell something fishy about the head at Philippa’s school, we may have found our connection. In which case you may be spared the shitty possessions, at least for today.”

Ricky smiled ruefully despite himself and made for the stairs. He was just out of earshot and Juliet had started walking down the corridor in the other direction, when Tim’s mobile rang.

“Superintendent Thornton,” he said. “Hello.”

“Yes, hello, Yates, I’m glad I’ve managed to get hold of you. Where are you?”

“At the Pilgrim Hospital. Is something wrong?”

“I’ll treat that question with the contempt it deserves, Yates. A few minutes ago I might have replied that we’ve only got two missing schoolgirls and a dead child on our hands, but now I wish that were true.”

“Has something else happened?”

“Oh, well done, Yates, quick on the uptake today, aren’t you? Yes, something else has happened. A young woman was taken to the Johnson Hospital early this morning. She was very ill – it’s only a kind of cottage hospital, as you know – and they couldn’t cope with her. She was transferred as an emergency case to the Pilgrim Hospital. Where you are now,” he added, with a hint of satisfaction.

“But I don’t understand why this is a police matter. Was the woman attacked or involved in an accident?”

“Not as far as we know. But the doctor and nurse who saw her at the Johnson Hospital said the man and woman who brought her in were behaving strangely. Apparently the woman, who claimed to be the mother, also looked unwell. And they didn’t accompany the young woman in the ambulance, even though they were told her condition was serious. The doctor on duty was sufficiently concerned to report all this to us. And now the Pilgrim Hospital’s apparently called him back for more details. They say the woman’s suffering from total organ collapse caused by extreme and prolonged privation. She’s probably been kept within a confined space, with little or no access to sunlight, for months, if not years.”

“You mean she’s been imprisoned somewhere?”

“That’s what they seem to think. I want you to find the doctor in charge of the woman, see if you can find out any more. While you’re doing that, I want MacFadyen to get back here to interview the couple who brought her in. He’s with you at the moment, I take it?”

“No, he’s just left. I’ve asked him to go to Boston Grammar School to question Philippa Grummett’s teachers.”

“Oh. Oh well, I suppose that’s a priority. We’re so damned short of bodies at the moment, Yates. Who would you send to talk to these people?”

“I think it’s a probably a job for uniforms at this stage, sir.

“You’re probably right. I saw PC Chakrabati hanging about just now, looking for you, probably. He might as well make himself useful.”

“He’s a good copper,” said Tim. “His partner’s shaping up, too.”“Yes, I’ve noticed her,” said the Superintendent approvingly. “Smartened herself up a bit since she came to us, hasn’t she? Lost some weight as well.”

“I hadn’t noticed,” said Tim blandly. “What’s the name of the young woman who’s been brought here?”

“Ariadne something.” Tim could hear papers rustling at the other end of the phone. “Ah, yes, I knew there was something else that was strange. The mother provided no proper surname, either for herself or the girl. The nurse who gave her the consent form to fill in didn’t notice until afterwards. She wrote the girl’s name as Ariadne Helen and her own name as Helen. That was all. And in itself strange, because the man who accompanied her addressed her as ‘Lucy’.”

“What about the man? Was he the husband?”

“No, and because he said he wasn’t related to the girl he wasn’t required to sign anything. He said he’d known the mother years ago and offered to help when she turned up out of the blue on his doorstep with a sick daughter.”

“Sounds a likely story to me. But what is his name? Do we know him?”

“I don’t know if he’s known to the police. If he is, I doubt it’s in the sense of having a record. He comes from quite a prominent local family. His name’s Matthew Start.”

Tim whistled. “Councillor Start’s son!”

“In all probability. I don’t have time to start worrying about his genealogy. Find out as much as you can about that young woman’s illness and get back here soonest, will you?” said the Superintendent, suddenly testy. He terminated the call abruptly.

Tim looked both ways down the corridor. It was deserted. Damn, he thought, it would have been easier to get information from the hospital about the girl if he’d gone with Juliet to talk to Louise Butler. He headed swiftly for the lift, hoping to catch up with her.

Councillor Start’s son, he mused to himself as the lift made its jerky descent to the ground floor. It was a coincidence too far.