26

The manager of the homeless shelter listened to Beth’s explanation for their presence on his doorstep but seemed baffled as to how he could help them.

‘I’m sorry, but did you say it’s a girl that’s missing?’ Alex McGregor asked them. ‘I’m afraid our shelter only takes in vulnerable male adults. Many of them have struggled with drug or alcohol dependency and it wouldn’t be safe to house them alongside females. There is another shelter that takes in women, along with their children, if they have been the victim of domestic abuse. Young women without children are generally referred to a department of the local council, unless there are extenuating circumstances …’

‘We didn’t make it clear,’ Beth said, even though he had interrupted her before she was finished, ‘for which I apologize. We’re not here to speak to you in your capacity as manager of this shelter.’ His eyes narrowed in confusion. ‘The missing girl is from Collemby. You used to be the vicar there.’

‘Collemby? Right.’ She could tell he was still perplexed.

‘The girl’s name is Alice,’ said Lucas. ‘Alice Teale.’

McGregor took this in without any outward sign of emotion. ‘I see.’ There was a long pause. ‘Would you like a cup of tea?’

One of the shelter’s volunteers made the tea for them, delivering it in old, slightly chipped mugs to a rickety desk in a bare office. McGregor moved some papers to one side for the tray and they each took a mug and sat on mismatched chairs which looked like they’d been donated. The man was dressed in blue jeans and a grey sweater. He may have been in his mid-forties now, but there was something still quite youthful, almost boyish, about his appearance.

When they were alone and the door was closed behind them, McGregor said, ‘Collemby? God, I haven’t been there for … It must be almost twenty years.’

‘You left just over eighteen years ago,’ confirmed Beth.

‘That sounds about right.’

‘You were the vicar there for around three years,’ said Lucas.

‘How do you know all this?’ McGregor asked. ‘Or perhaps I should be asking why do you know all this?’

‘It’s not like we had to read a file on you,’ said Black. ‘We just had a word with the vicar who took over from you. Your former parishioners filled in the gaps.’

There was a long pause then, during which McGregor waited for Black to add to this, and when he did not, he said, ‘And what else did they tell you?’

‘The reason you left Collemby,’ said Black. ‘Abigail Teale. Alice Teale’s mother.’

McGregor blinked as if he were shocked. ‘Abigail Teale was not the reason I left Collemby.’ Then he seemed to think again. ‘Not the main reason, at any rate.’

‘But you did have an affair with her?’

‘I’m sorry, but who has been saying that?’

‘It wasn’t an individual,’ said Black. ‘I think it is what is known as common knowledge, among the older parishioners, at least.’

‘What passed between Abigail and myself is private, even if it is the subject of mean-spirited gossip.’

‘You deny you were close to her,’ asked Beth, ‘even to the point where you were warned off by the dean?’

Again, a long pause while he was either attempting to compose himself or trying to find the right words. ‘We were close, yes,’ he admitted. ‘She came to church regularly and sang in our choir. We became friendly.’

‘She came to you,’ said Black, ‘for guidance.’ Then he added the word: ‘Initially.’

‘Guidance?’

‘Because her marriage was failing,’ the detective reminded him. ‘Her husband ran off with another woman, leaving her alone with her baby boy.’

‘I don’t think I should be speaking to you about confidential conversations I had with a parishioner, even if it was nearly twenty years ago.’

‘Eighteen,’ Black reminded him. ‘Her husband eventually returned to patch up their marriage. She went back to him and, a few months later, you left the parish and the Church.’

‘That is all factually correct,’ said McGregor, ‘but the inference is that I left because of her, and that simply isn’t true.’

‘Why else would you leave?’

‘You’re not going to say you lost your faith in God?’ asked Beth.

He seemed to consider this for a while. ‘I lost my faith in the Church.’

‘Why?’

‘I think that’s my business, don’t you?’ He sighed. ‘If you must know, I had a growing feeling that I wasn’t doing any good. All we did was talk. Abigail was a case in point. You are correct that I was reprimanded for becoming too close to her, but only because I cared for her and her situation; also, there was a clash of interest.’

‘How so?’

‘In my capacity as the vicar, I was duty bound to advise her to do her utmost to repair her marriage and take her husband back.’

‘And you wanted her for yourself?’ asked Black.

He shook his head. ‘I wanted her to leave him,’ he said. ‘But for herself, not for me.’

‘Why?’ asked Beth.

‘Because Ronnie Teale was not a nice man and Abigail deserved better. That’s the problem with dogma. Marriage has to be preserved at all costs, even when it becomes clear it’s in everyone’s best interest to move on. When I was resistant to the idea that she should return to a bully, the dean intervened and threatened to haul me up in front of the bishop. By then I think I had already had enough. I still believe in God, just not the Church. Now, I do what I can’ – he gestured around him – ‘and I am no longer constrained.’

He took a sip of his tea. ‘I assume she is still with him, then – Ronnie Teale? You said they had a daughter.’ He frowned. ‘And she has gone missing?’

‘They are still together and it’s their daughter, Alice, who has disappeared. We’re trying to find her,’ explained Beth.

He nodded slowly then Black said, ‘And we thought perhaps she might have turned up here.’

‘Like I said, this shelter is men only.’

Black leaned forward in his chair and locked eyes with McGregor. ‘We thought she might have come here looking for you.’

‘Why ever would she do that?’ he asked, though Beth could tell he knew the answer to that question already.

As soon as they were back in the car with the doors closed behind them, Beth let it out.

‘Oh my God. Did you notice?’

‘Yep,’ said Lucas, as if it were obvious. ‘There’s a resemblance.’

‘He looks like Alice Teale,’ she said. ‘Or I should say, she looks like him: same eye colour, nose, that bone structure, even down to the colour of his hair.’

‘And there’s the jewellery,’ said Black, almost to himself.

‘What jewellery?’

‘When she went missing DI Fraser put out a description of the clothes Alice was wearing. It included a ring, gold stud earrings and there was also a gold cross on a chain that she wore around her neck. Her mother gave it to her. Abigail Teale was religious, but …’

‘It has even more significance now,’ said Beth, completing his thoughts for him.

‘No wonder Ronnie hated her,’ said Lucas. ‘At least now we know the reason why Alice could never do anything right for Daddy.’ Then he added: ‘Because he suspects he isn’t really her father.’

‘You think he knows?’ asked Beth.

‘It would explain a lot. He was the one who walked out on Alice’s mum and had the affair, then he chose to come back, probably when he heard his wife was spending a bit more time than normal at the local church. Maybe he listened to some gossip, so he returned and staked his claim on his wife and their marriage. Then, months later, Alice was born, but she almost certainly wasn’t his. So, yeah, I think he knew. The question is whether he finally did something about it.’

Beth said, ‘Actually, I wasn’t talking about Ronnie Teale.’

‘Oh,’ said Lucas, and they both instinctively turned to look back at the shelter, where Alex McGregor now stood at the window, looking out at them. ‘You mean, did he know? That’s a very good question.’

‘I think he does now,’ said Beth.