Chapter Forty-Four

Wearily, Tim and Juliet climbed the stairs that led to their office space. Directing operations from a desk was just the kind of work that Tim hated. He realised he had no cause for complaint, particularly as the Superintendent had now put him at the centre of the search operation, but he was champing at the bit. He wanted to involve himself in something more hands-on. He thought he might carry out some door-to-door enquiries himself later, though he knew Thornton wanted him to stay in the office to provide co-ordination and support. He sighed and looked at his watch. It was almost 6 p.m.

“It’s going to be a long night,” he said to Juliet. “I’d better give Katrin a quick call before we get started.”

“Do you want me to leave you to it for a couple of minutes?” she asked, glancing up at him. He noticed with some curiosity that, although she’d switched on her computer, she’d actually started riffling through the cold case file again.

“God, no. I doubt we’ll be exchanging intimacies.” He managed a brief grin. “I’m much more likely to get an earful. But I’m sure you won’t be embarrassed if you overhear.” He moved a few yards away from his desk and was just in the act of speed-dialling his home telephone number with his back to Juliet when he heard her draw in her breath sharply. He cancelled the call.

“You OK?” he asked.

“Yes. But look at this!” She held out a sheet of paper. Clipped to the top of it Tim saw the photograph of the missing Finnish au pair they’d shown to Verity Tandy a few days earlier.

“What are you looking at that for? We need to . . .”

“Look at the name!”

Tim moved closer so that he could read where her finger pointed. “Helena Nurmi. Rings no bells. Should it?”

“Not the surname. But the mother whose daughter Matthew Start took to Spalding Community Hospital signed the girl’s name as Ariadne Helen and her own name as Lucy Helen.”

“Weird, I know – we agreed on that. But how . . .? Oh, I see what you mean.” Tim whistled. “Matthew Start was the last person who saw Helena Nurmi before she went missing, wasn’t he? And now he turns up with someone who calls both herself and her daughter Helen. Why not Helena, though?”

“I don’t know. A clumsy attempt at a covert SOS message in case Start read what she’d written?”

“Could be. We’ll need to speak to him this evening now. I’ll go and find Thornton.”

“As it happens, I’m right here, Yates. I’ve brought you these schedules. What was it you wanted?”

Tim jumped like a schoolboy caught in the act. When he’d recovered, he explained briefly.

“All right, Yates, I agree that what Armstrong’s just found may put a different complexion on matters. But only because there’s now a somewhat stronger case to fear the mother of that girl is being held by Start against her will. I still think your story’s far-fetched. If he’s been holding that woman for the past twenty odd years, where has he been keeping her? And I understand that he’s married,” the Superintendent concluded sagely, as if that exonerated Matthew Start from suspicion. “But you’ve sown the seed of doubt in my mind. You may go and speak to him. But no histrionics with warrants etcetera, unless you’re convinced – and I mean, absolutely convinced – that he’s guilty. I don’t want you barking up the wrong tree, chasing red herrings,” he finished, mixing metaphors magisterially. “You’d better take Armstrong with you. She can pacify the wife.”

“Yes, sir. Thank you.”

“And come back here when you’ve finished. And, Yates, it’s Superintendent Thornton to you.”