Dead Gorgeous (A Mystery for D.I. Costello) (19 page)

Twenty-four hours later, as the front door downstairs banged shut, Derek drank the cold dregs of tea and put his cup back in its saucer. “That’s Katy back from Mass. What are the odds she’ll be up here with another cuppa in a minute?”

Leanne laughed. “I’m not betting; I’ll lose.”

They’d arrived after lunch the previous day and taken Angela’s instructions to heart, coming loaded with supplies of food. Katy Devine wasn’t under Angela’s authority, however, so she had included them in her calculations for the evening meal. Derek and Leanne found the appeal of their shop-bought sandwiches faded very quickly compared with the aroma of a fried liver and bacon dinner followed by lemon meringue pie. And not an hour passed in which Katy didn’t pop upstairs to ask if they were ready for another cup of tea. A full English breakfast had arrived the moment they’d come to take over from the uniformed officers who’d stood watch overnight. By this time the sandwiches had dried up on a shelf in the corner.

Leanne flipped through the overnight notes. Two men and three women had been seen to leave the house at nine o’clock. Photographs were taken, but they weren’t very satisfactory. The car taking them to wherever they went had blocked the view and the chances of seeing anybody’s face. The observers were merely left with the impression that the women wore elegant evening clothes. The party had arrived back around four o’clock. Only pictures of their backs as they disappeared into the house had been possible.

Leanne turned a page, read a note and looked across the road. “Oh,” she said.

“What?” asked Derek.

“There’s a note here about all the curtains being pulled back in the upstairs front room at ten o’clock last night.”

“I saw that. I thought it strange as well. Weren’t they all out at that time?” said Derek.

“They can’t all have been, can they?” replied Leanne with unassailable logic. “OK, we’d gone off duty by nine, but three women and two men were seen leaving the house.”

“So that can’t be everybody in the house.”

“You got it, Sherlock; somebody must have been left behind.”

“Who amuses himself or herself by opening the curtains, nets and all.”

A silence fell on the room. Leanne and Derek stared at each other for a few moments.

Finally Derek spoke. “Lee, babes, what would you do if you were being held in a house against your will? You’re fairly feisty, remember; you’ve already tried to escape once.”

“I think I’d do every little thing I could to draw attention to myself. I’d…”

“Yeah?”

“Well, if the only thing I could do was to draw the curtains in one of the rooms looking out onto the street, I’d still give it a go, and…”

“Yeah?”

“I’d stand in the window if I could.”

Instinctively they both looked across the road. At that moment the house looked a perfect picture of suburban respectability. The nets covered the windows and the heavy curtains were drawn back exactly as one would expect at this time of the morning. They could see nobody.

Just at that moment there came a gentle tap on the door and Katy put her head into the room.

“Now,” she began with a cheerful smile, “I’m sure you’re both ready for a nice cup of tea.”

“Yes, please, Katy,” answered Derek with enthusiasm. They’d all arrived at first-name name terms very soon after being installed in the cheerful little bedroom with its single bed, wardrobe, dresser, desk and a couple of chairs. It wasn’t a Spartan room by a very long way, but it was entirely without decoration or ornament and both the officers surmised that it had been occupied by a male.

“That’s good,” said Katy. “I’ll just get the kettle on. And I’ve got a nice piece of lamb for lunch. Do you both like mint sauce?”

“That would be really marvellous, Katy, thank you.”

“My pleasure,” beamed Katy, as she withdrew.

“Katy!” Leanne called after her.

Katy’s head popped back into the room. “Yes, dear?”

Leanne nodded in the direction of the house across the road.

“The overnight notes say all the curtains were drawn back in that upstairs front room at ten o’clock last night.”

Katy pushed the door back and came fully into the room. “Well, d’you know, that’s one of the first things I noticed about that house. The curtains are sometimes all drawn back and sometimes they’re pulled across at the oddest times of the day and night.”

“Have you ever seen anybody inside the room?” asked Derek.

Katy shook her head. “No, I can’t say I have. Mind you, I did see them being drawn back once, but the person kept behind the curtains as they came across, if you see what I mean, so I couldn’t see who was there. Is it important?”

“We’re not sure,” replied Leanne. “We’ve got to take notes of everything, though.”

Katy sat on the bed. “Yes, I suppose you must. Whoever pulled those curtains looked in a great hurry, I can tell you that much.”

“Oh, really?” asked Derek. He and Leanne exchanged looks. Leanne pulled the notes towards her and picked up a pen.

“How could you tell that if you couldn’t see the person?”

Katy thought about this for a minute. “It was the impression I formed. When I looked, one side was already drawn to the middle and the other side came across really quickly. I remember wondering if they were in a hurry to do something in secret.”

“Is that the only time you noticed any movement in that upstairs room?” asked Leanne.

“Yes. I’m sorry I can’t be more help,” answered Katy, after a moment’s further reflection, with a regretful look on her face.

“Not a problem,” Derek reassured her with a smile. “Every little helps.” He looked around the room. “Leanne and I have decided this was probably a boy’s room,” he said.

Katy beamed fondly. “Yes, my son. He moved out to get married in March of this year.”

“So, have you got an empty nest now?” said Leanne.

“I have! I’m not really used to it yet. I’m gradually finding more and more things to keep me busy, but it still seems strange without Ally. He’s my baby,” she grinned, “all six feet, twelve stone of him.”

“Ally?” Derek sounded a little puzzled. Ally sounded like a girl’s name to him.

“Alistair,” explained Katy. “My husband’s family are from Scotland, so we decided to give a nod in their direction with regard to names, when Ally was born. We called him Alistair Ian.”

“I didn’t know they’re Scottish names,” said Leanne.

“Oh yes,” said Katy. “Very much so; Alistair is the Gaelic for Alexander and Ian is John.”

Leanne didn’t answer. A thoughtful look had appeared on her face.

“There you go, you learn something new every day, don’t you,” said Derek, as if to fill the silence.

“Yes, you do,” said Leanne slowly, still following her own train of thought.

Katy slapped her leg and stood up. “Well, this won’t get the dinner cooked, will it? And I mustn’t distract you like this.” She made for the door. “I’ll be up shortly with that cup of tea,” she promised as she disappeared through it.

“Are you all right, Lee?” asked Derek, once the door had closed.

Leanne frowned. “Mmm,” she said. “I didn’t know that Ian was a version of John.”

Derek shrugged. “I’ve never really thought about it. Why? Does it matter?”

“It might. Didn’t this young woman talk about coming to a designer of the same name?”

“That priest thought so, yeah, though it sounded like he had a bit of trouble making out everything she said.”

“But he definitely thought she was Polish, didn’t he?”

“Yes. Why? What’s that got to do with it?”

“It’s just that I think I might have an angle on this.”

Derek smiled. “Oh yeah, Miss Dabrowska. You would have if anybody would.”

“Yep,” replied Leanne. She made up her mind. “I know Angela’s probably busy cooking her Sunday lunch right at this moment, but I think I’ll give her a call.”

“If it seems that important, go for it,” said Derek. “Here, let me take over anyway. You’ve been sitting in that spot since we arrived, and it’s about time I did a stint.”

Lunch being in Patrick’s hands, Angela was just standing back to admire her newly appointed sewing room when Leanne’s call came through. Patrick brought the phone upstairs and stopped on the threshold. “My goodness, you have been busy,” he said. “I hope you’re not going to disappear up here, buried under piles of material. I don’t want to become a sewing widower.”

Angela laughed. “That’s not going to happen, darling. But I am looking forward to making a few things for myself. Who’s on the phone?”

He held out the mobile. “Leanne, from Katy’s house.”

She frowned. “I hope it’s important. I did tell them that I wanted to know if so much as a curtain twitched, but I didn’t mean it literally.”

Patrick covered the phone with his hand. “Leanne’s a bright lady,” he said. “She wouldn’t call you for something trivial.”

Angela took the phone from him. “You’re right, I’d best take it.”

Later, she was very glad she did.

The next morning, Angela had just finished telling the team it had been a quiet Sunday with nothing much to report except some oddity about whether or not the curtains were drawn, when her mobile sprang to life. Leanne’s number appeared on the screen. “Yes, Leanne, anything happening?” she asked.

“Guv, two men and three women left the house about ten minutes ago. Soon after they went, all the curtains, nets and drapes, were pulled back in the upstairs room and there’s a young woman standing in the window looking out into the street.”

“Picture?”

“Yes, Derek’s taken several. He’s zoomed in as much as he can, but she’s obviously still in a bit of shadow. We think there’s a good chance it’s our girl from the
Passionista
party, though.”

Angela punched the air and gave a quick look round at the team. She could see them all interpreting the conversation for themselves and beginning to move. “Load it up to your laptop and whizz it through to my email, please, Leanne. I want to send one to Father Martin, for confirmation.”

“Already done, guv,” replied Leanne, as a gentle beep told Angela her phone had mail.

Oh, thank you, God, for Leanne thinking on her feet,
she thought. She opened up her email and gazed at the image. It definitely looked like the woman from the party.

“Right, everybody,” she said. “We might be on the money with this, but I do want to get Father Martin’s say-so first. He’s had the best close-up look at the woman so far.” She brought up Martin’s contact details and forwarded the picture.

“That’ll only take a few minutes, won’t it?” asked Jim. He was hovering by the door, clearly wanting to get moving.

Angela looked at her watch. “Bit longer, I’m afraid. He’s probably just begun celebrating Mass. Not to worry, he’ll pick up his messages as soon as he’s finished. It will give me the chance to bring D.C.I. Stanway in on it.” She beamed around at them all. “Get on with whatever you can.”

“Ah, Angie,” said Stanway, as she walked into his room a few minutes later. “Got any progress to report?”

“It’s looking very much like it, sir,” replied Angela. She held her phone out to him to show him the photograph Leanne had taken.

“Oh yes, the same woman as you have on the board in the incident room,” said the D.C.I. “Have you sent it to your priest?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And does he confirm it’s her?”

“I haven’t heard back from him yet, sir, and I don’t expect to for a while.” Just at that moment her phone rang again. It was Derek this time. “Excuse me, sir,” she said, putting it to her ear. “Yes, Derek?”

“The others from the house have come back, guv. We saw the car turning the corner, ’cause you can see that end of the street from here.”

“And?”

“And just about the same moment we saw the car, we looked and the curtains came across the window again.”

“Oh, bingo! Sit tight, Derek. I’m with D.C.I. Stanway at the moment.” She cut the connection and looked at her boss. “It looks like we’re in business, sir.”

Stanway picked up the phone on his desk. “I’ll get the back-up sorted, Angie. I’ll meet you at my car in five minutes.”

By the time Stanway joined Angela, she had alerted the rest of her team. Twenty minutes later saw the D.C.I.’s car nosing its way past Katy’s house, looking for a parking space between the sleek vehicles belonging to this quiet, residential street.

Derek stood well back from the window in the front upstairs bedroom, his phone to his ear. “That’s the house, guv,” he said, watching their car glide past the blue door.

“OK, thanks,” said Angela. Stanway drove on a little further, finding a place to pull in at a discreet distance. In the rear-view mirror, Angela saw two more vehicles turning into the street. One, a patrol car containing Jim, Rick and Gary, stopped near the corner, out of sight of anyone in the house. The other, an unmarked police van, drove right on by to a space several cars beyond Stanway’s. Angela knew six uniformed police officers sat inside, all eagerly awaiting the word to go.

Angela and the D.C.I. got out of the car. “How are we going to play this, sir?”

Stanway smiled. “This is a sedate street in an affluent neighbourhood. We’ll play it the way the locals would relate to. We’ll knock on the door and make a polite enquiry.” Even so, he took a walkie-talkie out of the pocket of his anorak. “Of course, we’ll stay in touch with the troops just in case it all suddenly becomes not so respectable.”

Angela grinned. Just at that moment her mobile buzzed and she took it out of her pocket. Martin had sent her a text.
Yep, that’s the one; am approaching Katy’s house now.
She looked up and sure enough there he was walking along the street. Wearing clerical dress this morning, he looked like a priest and
not a jogger. He gave her a wave and turned in at Katy’s front gate, a member of the clergy just paying a parish visit.

Stanway watched him disappear through the front door. “Can’t be avoided, I suppose. It would have been impossible to keep the lid completely on this, not with Leanne and Derek in the house.”

“He has a pastoral concern, sir. It was to him the woman ran for help.”

“Yes, of course,” replied Stanway. He seemed to pause for an instant and square his shoulders before starting off again. “OK, let’s get going,” he said, leading the way towards the blue door.