Nita looked up as Clare entered the incident room. ‘Mark Mooney, your security guard,’ she said, ‘he checks out. No precons. Fully licensed for security work. Regularly does jobs like this one.’
‘Okay, Nita. Thanks. Anything on Russell Fox’s social media? Or phone records?’
‘Checking them now,’ Janey said. ‘Nothing much so far.’
Clare thanked them and wandered back out to the front office. She spotted Zoe, the Admin Assistant, at her desk. She’d been so busy earlier she hadn’t noticed Zoe, maybe because there was something different about her. But, distracted by the murder investigation, she couldn’t think what it was. ‘You’ve had your hair done,’ she said, tentatively.
Zoe put a hand up and patted her curls, piled up on top with a couple of clips. ‘Time for a change,’ she said. Then she glanced across to the incident room door and lowered her voice. ‘Fancy a cake?’ She reached down under her desk and produced a Tupperware container. ‘I made some strawberry blondies last night but I didn’t know all these other folk would be here and there’s not enough to go round.’
‘What’s a blondie?’
Zoe rolled her eyes. ‘Like a brownie only not chocolate.’ She removed the lid and held the tub out for Clare to see. ‘I stirred a strawberry compote through the top before baking.’
‘Oh Zoe! You are not good for my waistline.’
‘Ach, rubbish,’ Zoe said. ‘As my mum says, it’s the belly that keeps the back up.’
‘I like the sound of your mum,’ Clare said, selecting a sticky piece of strawberry blondie. She took this into her office and sat down at the desk. For some reason she was finding it hard to think clearly about this case. Was it because she’d been away at the wedding? Missed those crucial first few hours? Whatever the reason, she had to get a handle on it.
She bit into the cake, licking her fingers clean. As usual it was utterly delicious. She’d bet money on Zoe winning the Bake Off competition one of these days. Her office door opened and Sara looked in.
‘Boss,’ she began then her eye fell on the remains of the cake. ‘Zoe gave you a blondie then,’ she said.
‘They are so good, Sara. How does she do it?’
‘Beats me. She gave me the recipe. But they never turn out the same when I try them.’
Clare thought of her own attempts at baking – non-existent these days. ‘Nor me,’ she said. ‘Anyway, take a seat.’
Sara hovered by the door. ‘Actually I can’t stop. Just came to say I was due to follow-up with the mum whose toddler wandered off but there’s been a road accident down on North Street.’
‘Anyone hurt?’
‘Don’t think so. But it’s partly blocking the road and you know how congested it gets down there so I’d better head over.’
Clare suddenly thought a bit of ordinary police work was just what she needed. ‘Tell you what, Sara,’ she said, ‘give me the toddler mum’s details. I’ll call in on her myself.’
Sara looked doubtful. ‘You sure, boss? She’s a nice woman. I wouldn’t want her worrying. You being a DI, I mean.’
‘Don’t worry. I’ll not go in heavy-handed. You go and sort out your traffic, and I promise I’ll be kind to your toddler woman.’
Sara turned to leave then Clare said, ‘Sara.’
‘Boss?’
‘Was Zoe’s hair always purple?’
Melanie Fraser lived in a two-bedroomed flat above a hairdressing salon in Bell Street. Clare was pleased to see she only opened the door a few inches, thanks to what seemed to be a shiny new chain. She studied Clare’s warrant card before releasing the chain and inviting her in. She led Clare into a small sitting room. It was sparsely furnished but clean and tidy. A TV sat in one corner with a selection of Peppa Pig DVDs. Next to this stood a bookcase filled with toddler board books and chick lit novels, and there was a Duplo train on a rug beneath the window.
Clare’s practised eye took it all in and she decided there was nothing to worry about here. She looked round for somewhere to sit and her eye fell on a copy of the local newspaper on a chair. The photo wasn’t a recent one, Clare thought, but they’d caught Gaby at a thoughtful moment, her wide smile for once absent. She inclined her head and read,
Daytime Gaby’s Tears for Brother
and she sighed inwardly. There would be no holding back the press now. She took the seat Melanie had indicated and gave her a smile. Melanie followed suit, perching on the edge of a chair, twisting a silver ring on her middle finger.
Clare looked round the room. ‘It’s nice here,’ she said. ‘Lots of light.’
Melanie nodded. ‘I do my best.’
‘Is it just you and your little boy?’
‘Yeah. Just the two of us. Me and Daniel. He does see his dad sometimes but we mostly manage on our own.’ A black cat strolled languidly into the room, brushing past Melanie’s legs. Then it saw Clare and stood for a moment, unblinking, taking her in. Melanie moved to pick up the cat but it leapt from her hands and walked up to Clare, sniffing at her legs. ‘Sammy,’ Melanie said but the cat ignored this. It continued to sniff Clare until she put a hand down to stroke its head. At this, it turned and began rubbing its head against Clare’s hand, purring softly. ‘He likes you,’ Melanie said.
‘Probably smelling my dog,’ Clare said. And then she remembered she hadn’t seen Benjy since Saturday morning. He’d be having a wonderful time with Moira, her nearest neighbour and dog walker, but she’d be so glad to see him later on.
‘So,’ Melanie said.
Clare smiled. ‘It’s really nothing to worry about. PC Stapleton who spoke to you on Saturday – she’s dealing with something so I said I’d pop in for a quick chat.’
Melanie sighed. ‘I don’t know what else I can do,’ she said. ‘I had a reliable babysitter, or I thought she was reliable. She told me later she was on some new pills and they were making her drowsy. I suppose she slept through Daniel waking up.’
‘You were on night shift?’
Melanie’s eyes flicked away for a moment, a gesture that didn’t escape Clare. ‘Yeah,’ she said.
‘Where do you work?’ Clare asked, keeping her tone light.
The eyes again. Clare wondered what Melanie was hiding.
‘Oh, various places.’
She tried again. ‘You’re an agency worker?’
‘Yeah, something like that.’ Melanie checked her watch. ‘I need to pick Daniel up soon,’ she said. ‘From nursery.’ She glanced towards the door.
Clare smiled. ‘I can give you a lift if it helps. Give us a few more minutes to chat.’
Melanie’s shoulders sagged. ‘Okay.’
‘Can you tell me what kind of work you do, Melanie?’
The cat turned its head away from Clare’s fingers and strolled back across to Melanie, jumping up on her lap. She put out a hand to stroke it and it nuzzled her neck in response. Clare waited. She was good at silences.
‘Waitressing,’ Melanie said at last.
‘Must have been quite a distance away.’
Melanie’s brow furrowed.
‘For you to stay overnight,’ Clare said.
‘Yes. Quite far.’
‘Still in Fife? Or further afield?’
Melanie rubbed the cat under its chin and Clare heard it purring again. ‘I really don’t know. There were a few of us and we were chatting, you know? And suddenly we were there.’
‘Someone picked you up then?’
Melanie nodded. ‘Yes. In a kind of minibus. The windows were dark so we couldn’t see much.’
Clare was suddenly alert. A minibus with dark windows. ‘Are you sure it wasn’t a bit closer?’ she said. ‘Maybe just a few miles out of town?’
She shrugged. ‘I honestly can’t remember. Does it matter?’
‘I’m afraid it might, Melanie. It might matter very much indeed.’
Melanie flushed and she seemed near to tears. Her eyes strayed to the newspaper. Then suddenly she said, ‘Look, I read about the man. The one who was shot. And yes, I was there. We were hired to be at the party. But I didn’t know anything about it. I swear. And I’d no idea it was that Gaby woman’s brother. She wasn’t even there.’
The cat leapt down from Melanie’s lap and walked back out of the room. With nothing in her hands, Melanie resumed twisting the ring. She glanced at Clare then looked down at her hands. ‘Honestly,’ she went on, her voice a whisper. ‘I didn’t know anything until it was on the news last night.’ She checked her watch again. ‘I have to go,’ she said. ‘Daniel…’
‘Come on,’ Clare said, rising from her seat. ‘I’ll drop you at the nursery. And I can run you back here again. Then I’d like you to come into the station so we can take a proper statement.’
Melanie bent to pick up a brown shoulder bag from the floor. ‘I haven’t done anything wrong,’ she said.
Clare smiled. ‘I know. But you might have seen something that could help us.’
She stood for a moment as though unconvinced then she led Clare to the front door and took a set of keys from her bag. Outside she pulled the door closed and turned a key in the mortice lock.
In the car she began directing Clare to the nursery. ‘Take a right here.’ As Clare swung the car round into Church Street Melanie spoke again. ‘Look, I don’t suppose it could be tomorrow? When Daniel’s at nursery, I mean. Save me getting a sitter.’
Clare considered this. Melanie probably didn’t know anything about the shooting. But she had been another pair of eyes inside the house on Friday night. And, judging by the time she’d arrived at the station the next morning looking for Daniel, she’d been there all night. Perhaps still there when Russell Fox had been shot.
They were approaching the nursery now. Melanie clicked off her seat belt. ‘Just drop me here if you don’t mind,’ she said. ‘Don’t want anyone seeing me getting out of the car. No offence.’
Clare was about to say she’d like Melanie to come straight over to the station, that they’d find someone to keep Daniel occupied when she saw something that changed her mind.
Or rather someone.
Walking towards the nursery building, pushing an empty stroller pram was Susan Clancy. Suddenly Clare was transported back to a missing baby case. Susan had come under scrutiny because her own little girl had been taken into care. But then she had helped Clare track down the real culprits and had proved herself capable of looking after her daughter once more. Clare had helped her find a flat in the town, away from her old contacts, and she’d begun a new life in St Andrews. She racked her brains trying to recall the name of Susan’s daughter and then she remembered it was Paige. And now, she guessed, Paige was at the same nursery as Melanie’s son Daniel.
Melanie opened the car door. ‘So tomorrow morning?’ she said. ‘I can come about nine fifteen.’
‘Erm, yes. That’s fine, Melanie. See you then.’ She watched as Melanie quickened her step and headed for the nursery door. She overtook Susan and nodded to her. They exchanged a couple of words then Melanie walked ahead of Susan into the building. Clare saw Susan enter behind Melanie. ‘I wonder,’ she said, starting the car engine.