Evan's Gate (24 page)
Authors: Rhys Bowen
He started toward the door, then turned back. “You’re not worried about the fact that she’s not here when you wake up, then? You’re not worried that her husband has come back for her if he’s got such a violent temper?”
He noticed a spasm of alarm cross the man’s face; then he shook his head. “He wouldn’t do that.”
“And if, by any chance, the child wasn’t taken by her father?”
“Someone else, you mean?”
“Nobody near the caravan park ever saw who it was. It could have been anybody—it could have been the Russian Mafia caught up with them.”
“Go on. Russian Mafia?” A smirk crossed the big man’s face.
“Sholokhov did leave Russia because he had a run-in with the Mafia, you know. They may have a score to settle with him. You haven’t noticed anyone hanging about outside the house at all?”
Bingham shook his head. “Can’t say I have. Why don’t you ask the old biddie next door. She spends her life watching through the curtains, minding other people’s business.”
“Thanks,” Evan said. “I’ll do that. And I’ll be back as soon as Shirley comes home.”
He got as far as the door.
“You don’t think anything really might have happened to Shirley, do you?” Bingham asked.
“No idea,” Evan said and left.
The next-door house was the only one on the block with some attempt at a front garden, although it was little more than a few sorry tulips now dying around the birdbath. Before Evan could reach the front door, it opened and an old woman in carpet slippers and overall stood there.“You’re with the police,” she said, a satisfied smile on her face.
“How did you know?”
“Stands to reason, doesn’t it. The police have been round several times recently, about the little girl, I suppose. But she’s been away. He’s been there alone. A nasty bit of goods he is, if you ask me—and she’s no better than she should be—dumping the child on me when she wanted to go out and then not coming home until morning. Have you come about him?”
“What do you think he might have done?”
“You’re the policeman not me.”
Evan produced his notebook. He had discovered that this somehow made an interview official, rather like the warning “everything you say may be used in evidence.” “I’m Detective Constable Evans, of the North Wales Police, madam, and what is your name?”
“Mrs. Hardcastle,” she said. “Gloria Hardcastle.”
“Right, Mrs. Hardcastle. If I could ask you a couple of questions?”
“You’d better come in,” she said. “I wouldn’t want the neighbors thinking I’d done anything that required a visit from the police.”
She led him into the front room, overdecorated with knickknacks, lots of photos, and potted plants. She pointed to the photos. “My grandchildren in Australia,” she said proudly.
“Very nice.” Evan smiled, and the smile was returned.
“Now, Mrs. Hardcastle—do I understand that you don’t get out much?”
“I can’t, on account of my arthritis,” she said.
“You say you looked after the little girl next door sometimes?”
“Just a couple of times, when the mother couldn’t find anyone to baby-sit at the last minute. Nice little thing. I didn’t mind at all, really. It was a bit of company for me, and she was no trouble.”
“So, Mrs. Sholokhov had no relatives in the area she could ask?”
“Not that I know of. In fact I remember that she said her parents were both dead and she only had the one auntie left in the world. Sad, isn’t it? Still, that’s how it goes. I’ve got five grandchildren, but I’ve never even seen them.”
“I expect you’ve heard that the little girl has been kidnapped,” Evan said.
“I saw it on the telly,” she said. “You could have knocked me down with a feather when I saw her picture.”
“We think her father has taken her,” Evan said. “I just wondered if you’d happened to notice any strange men hanging around here in the last few weeks—the father is a tall, blond bloke—foreign looking.”
She shook her head. “I can’t say I saw anyone like that. In fact the only man I’ve ever noticed watching the house is that old geezer with his dog.”
“Old geezer with a dog?” Evan looked up.
“Yes, he used to come here a lot. I haven’t seen him lately, but for a while he’d walk that dog up and down, up and down in
front of the houses, and he’d always slow down when he passed next door.”
front of the houses, and he’d always slow down when he passed next door.”
“Can you describe him?”
“Well, he was a pleasant-enough looking man. About my age. Stout. White hair.”
“And the dog. Was that white, too?”
“Why, yes it was. Clever of you to guess that. Nice little dog. Well behaved. And the man had nice manners, too. I was putting the milk bottles out once, and he raised his hat and said good morning. You don’t get that type of thing much anymore, do you? Most young people are being raised with no manners at all. They push past you to get on the bus. Shocking, isn’t it?”
Evan nodded with sympathy, but his brain was racing. “He didn’t ask you anything about the family next door?”
“No. He didn’t say anything apart from good morning.”
“And you say you haven’t seen him recently?”
She shook her head. “Not for a couple of weeks, anyway.”
Evan held out his hand. “Thank you, Mrs. Hardcastle. You’ve been most helpful.”
“Have I?” She looked pleased.
Evan hurried back to his car, drove around the corner, away from prying eyes, and then dialed his mobile. He was informed that Inspector Watkins was out but that Constable Davies was available. Almost immediately Glynis’s high, clear voice came on the line.
“Listen, Glynis. I think we’re onto something,” Evan almost yelled into the phone. “There was an old man who used to walk his dog on the beach at the caravan park. Distinguished-looking old bloke, rather old-fashioned in his dress—you know, tweed hat, that kind of thing, and he had a little white dog. He asked about Ashley. He said he was staying at one of the bungalows on that road. I want you to find out about him right away. I think he could be the same one who has been spying on Ashley here in Leeds.”
“Wow—that’s a turn up for the books, isn’t it? I’ll get Inspector
Watkins on the phone immediately. He’s down at the caravan park right now. I’ll call you back as soon as I’ve got something.”
Watkins on the phone immediately. He’s down at the caravan park right now. I’ll call you back as soon as I’ve got something.”
Evan drove to the nearest café and ordered a cup of coffee, trying to concentrate on reading the paper while waiting for the phone to ring. He finished his coffee, finished his paper, and cruised past Shirley’s house a few times. Still the phone didn’t ring. He wondered whether he should talk to Joe Bingham again and try to get a list of Shirley’s friends out of him. He rather felt it would be like pulling teeth. He brought the car to a halt beside a park and sat watching the children in the playground.
The old man with a white dog could be pure coincidence,
he thought, as he watched several old men walking several white dogs around the park. But on the other hand, he knew that it wasn’t unusual for a kidnapper or child molester to appear concerned and even to volunteer to help with the search.
The old man with a white dog could be pure coincidence,
he thought, as he watched several old men walking several white dogs around the park. But on the other hand, he knew that it wasn’t unusual for a kidnapper or child molester to appear concerned and even to volunteer to help with the search.
The sun came out, warm on his face in the car, and he closed his eyes. He was just nodding off when the phone rang, and his heart gave a great lurch.
“Evans here,” he barked into it.
“Listen, Evan, you’re right. You may be onto something,” Glynis said. “The old man moved out of the bungalow this weekend and went home, saying the weather was too cold for him. I’ve got the name and address he gave the landlady. He comes from Colchester in Essex. Now listen to this—you know we talked about putting together a list of unsolved child abductions and murders. Well, I’ve just been looking at it. Eighteen months ago a little girl was murdered in Colchester. They haven’t found the perpetrator, and she looks a lot like Ashley.”
“Bloody hell! This could be it, Glyn.”
“Inspector Watkins is calling the Colchester Police right now. I’ll keep you posted.”
“So what does he want me to do—come straight back or wait around for Shirley Sholokhov?”
“You haven’t seen her yet?”
“No, she’s out—according to her live-in boyfriend.”
“You’d better stick around until she comes back,” Glynis said. “There’s not much any of us can do here until the Essex police get back to us. Don’t worry, I’ll keep you posted.”
“Right.” Evan hung up, feeling excited and frustrated at the same time. It was annoying to be stuck so far away when things were happening, waiting for Shirley Sholokhov to reappear in her own sweet time. He came to the decision that he had waited long enough and drove back to the house. Joe Bingham looked as if he had probably gone straight back to bed after Evan left. His stubble was more noticeable, his hair uncombed, and the unwashed smell drove Evan to take a step back, even at the doorway.
“Oh, it’s you again. She ain’t home yet.”
“And you’re not worried about the fact that she’s been gone for several hours.”
Joe shrugged. “I’m not her jailer, you know. She comes and goes as she pleases. That was one of the things that drove her up the wall about her old man—he wanted to keep her in a cage, always tell him where she was going. She couldn’t stand it. So I keep my mouth shut and don’t ask questions.”
The thought flashed across Evan’s mind that what Shirley Sholokhov was doing might not be legal, but he dismissed it. “Look, I need to talk to her today. We might have found the man who took her child.”
“Really?” He was definitely interested now, Evan could tell. “Where did you find him—in Wales?”
“I can’t tell you any details at the moment, but I’m sure she’ll want to know and we’ll need her to identify him. So if you can give me any suggestion of where she might be—names of close friends, places she likes to hang out.”
Joe shrugged again. “Look, I wish I could help you, but I can’t. I know she’s got some girlfriends and she likes to natter with them, but I don’t know their addresses, honest to God.”
“Then the name of the hair salon where she works?”
“I can tell you that all right. It’s Flair for Hair, and it’s in the
big new shopping center. You’ll pass it on the right as you drive into the city center. Can’t miss it.”
big new shopping center. You’ll pass it on the right as you drive into the city center. Can’t miss it.”
“Thanks,” Evan said. “I’m going there right now, but I’ll be back. If she comes home, you tell her she’s not to go out again until I’ve spoken to her. Got it?”
“I never got your name, mate,” Joe said, and Evan realized that he had only flashed a warrant card at him.
“It’s Evans,” he said. “Detective Constable Evans.”
A look of scorn crossed the man’s face. “You mean I’ve been wasting all this time speaking to a bleeding constable?”
“If you’re not careful, I’ll bring you in for questioning next time, and you can wait in a cell until I’m good and ready to talk to you.”
“Go on! Pull the other one. You can’t do nothing unless your boss tells you to. Constables are ten a penny.”
“We’ll see when I come back,” Evan said. He hoped it looked as if he was sauntering back to his car, but his pulse was racing. He wondered just what he’d do if he tried to bring someone in and they refused. Call for backup, obviously, but the only backup he could count on was a hundred miles away.
He drove to the shopping center, located the hair salon, but got nothing out of the girls who worked there. Shirley had taken time off work because her kid was poorly and she hadn’t said when she’d be back. They hadn’t even heard about the kidnapping. Both the girls seemed so clueless that Evan couldn’t believe they were lying.
He walked through the shopping center, past the heavy beat blaring from music stores, past the bright lights and the prams and gaggles of teenage girls. Smells of frying onions and cinnamon enticed him from the food court, reminding him that he hadn’t had lunch yet, so he stopped to grab a slice of pizza. He was halfway through it, with a full mouth, when his phone rang again.
“Evans,” he mumbled.
“Evan, it’s Glynis. No news yet on our Mr. Johnson in Colchester, but something else has come up. I’m not sure if it’s even
relevant now, but we got a call from some hikers in Yorkshire who have just seen a little girl who looks like Ashley. And since you’re our man on the spot, so to speak, the D.I. thought you should follow up on this.”
relevant now, but we got a call from some hikers in Yorkshire who have just seen a little girl who looks like Ashley. And since you’re our man on the spot, so to speak, the D.I. thought you should follow up on this.”
Evan wrote down the mobile phone number. As soon as she hung up, he dialed it.
“Look, this may be a false alarm,” the man who answered him said with an embarrassed laugh. He had a smooth, well-bred voice and Evan was unable to trace a regional accent. “But my wife was very insistent that we call you, so—”
“I appreciate your calling, sir,” Evan said. “It’s always better to be safe than sorry, isn’t it? Too many opportunities are lost because the public doesn’t want to get involved. If I could have your name, please?”
“Francis,” the man said. Evan was about to ask for his last name when he continued, “Rodney Francis. My wife and are currently hiking the Pennine Way.”
“Oh, that’s great. I’m a hiker myself,” Evan said. “So, Mr. Francis, you say you saw a child who could be Ashley Sholokhov?”
“My wife did. We stayed the night in a village called Newby on the A65,” the man said, “and then we hiked up and over Ingleborough. I don’t know if you are familiar with the area, but that’s one of what they call the Three Peaks. It’s a big, flat slab of rock—very bleak and wild. We stopped for lunch high up on a shelf of limestone, and my wife was looking through the binoculars—she’s very keen on birding, you know. She spotted this child, playing outside a cottage down in the valley—she was a little thing with long, blonde hair. Then a woman came out, grabbed her arm, and dragged her back inside, as if she was doing something wrong. My wife thought this was strange, and then she remembered the picture we’d seen on the news of the girl who was kidnapped. So she thought we ought to report this as soon as possible.”
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