Twisted (8 page)

‘Agnes, there’s a police officer coming round, I’ve forgotten his name, but he will be here to talk to you about Amy.’

‘Oh my God, there hasn’t been an accident, has there?’

‘No, but she’s been missing since Saturday afternoon.’

Agnes shook her head in shock, but Lena had already hurried up the stairs. She threw her coat over the bed and pulled off the polo-neck sweater; she needed a shower as her nerves had made her sweat. Hurrying into her bathroom she turned on the shower as she took off her jeans and kicked her shoes aside. She physically jumped when Agnes tapped on the door.

‘Is there anything you’d like me to get you, Mrs Fulford?’

‘No, I’m going to get changed quickly and, Agnes, there’s a drawer in Amy’s dressing table that’s locked – have you any idea where the key would be?’

‘No, I’ve never even seen the drawer open,’ Agnes said quickly in a defensive tone.

‘I’m not accusing you of anything; I’m simply trying to find the key. Do you know where it is?’

‘Not a clue. Maybe Amy keeps it with her?’

‘Yes. Well, have a look around, I’d like to open the drawer; and Agnes, can you prepare a tray of coffee and sandwiches? Marcus is also coming over and I haven’t had lunch.’

Agnes went back to the kitchen, thinking that if her daughter Natalie was missing she wouldn’t be ordering coffee and sandwiches, she’d be out searching for her. She never had much to do with Amy, as she was off at the weekends, and always stayed with her daughter in Milton Keynes. By the time she came to work on the Monday, Amy was already back at school. She opened a packet of fresh honey-baked ham and selected some tomatoes and lettuce. Making up the sandwiches, she wondered whether or not Mrs Fulford would prefer the best china, but knowing how particular she was, she decided to wait until she came down.

Lena closed her eyes; the warm shower was relaxing her. She washed her hair at the same time, soaping up the frothing foam and then using the residue to wash her armpits and then gritted her teeth to turn on the cold water to rinse. As the warm water had relaxed her, the icy cold made her body tingle and she then gave herself a really hard rubdown with a snow-white towel. Naked, she went into the bedroom and turned on the hair dryer, not bothering to carefully style her thick hair, but simply running her fingers through it to dry it as quickly as possible. She gave her still damp hair a few brush strokes and chose underwear, a silk blouse and suede trousers with high-heeled leather boots. Staring at her face in the magnifying mirror on her dressing table, she saw she looked paler than ever, but her skin was fresh and glowing from the icy-cold shower. She brushed on a light powder foundation, soft brown eye shadow and then some mascara to darken her eyelashes. She was very adept at making it appear she wore no makeup, but of late the telltale lines had started showing between her eyes and at their corners, and from her nose to mouth. The only sign that Lena, beneath her carefully created image of fresh innocence, was quite a tough woman were her eyes. They often gave off a steely cold expression, and her mouth frequently turned down into not exactly a grimace but a tight thin-lipped line.

The doorbell ringing made her hurry out of the bedroom, but by the time she had reached the bottom stair Agnes had let Marcus in. He still had his own key, but Lena had asked him never to use it and threatened she would change the locks if he did.

Marcus looked dreadful; he needed a shave, his jeans were crumpled, as was his shirt, and he wore an old leather bomber jacket. She didn’t waste time on any pleasantries, but asked him to come with her into Amy’s bedroom.

‘Have you found something?’ he asked.

‘I don’t know yet; there’s a locked drawer in the dressing table and maybe Amy’s diaries and journal are inside it,’ she said as he followed her up the stairs.

‘What had happened at the police station?’

‘I gave every detail that I could think of to a policewoman, and spoke with an Inspector Reid who was the detective in charge. He’s starting house-to-house enquiries and was very positive about finding Amy.’

Marcus gave a cursory look around as he followed Lena up the stairs and onto the first-floor landing. The house looked more or less the same as he had left it. Always the fresh flowers in large bowls, a profusion of plants, and the pictures that they had bought together over the years. The fitted carpet was new, but in the same deep moss-green as it had always been, but there were new brass stair rods, and walking along the landing he also saw there was a new chandelier.

‘You’ve done some redecorating,’ he said quietly.

‘Yes, mostly to freshen up the place. I have a decorator that comes in over the holidays.’

She opened Amy’s bedroom door, and he walked past her. ‘Did you tidy it up?’

‘No, this is how she left it. The locked drawer is the smaller one, top right.’

As Marcus crossed the bedroom, he stared at himself in the wide mirror. ‘Christ, I look a wreck, but I didn’t have the time to shave this morning and I had a fair bit to drink yesterday after the divorce meeting.’

She turned towards him, and suggested that the less they discussed the meeting with their lawyers the better it would appear to the police. ‘I have said we have an amicable separation, and to be honest I almost believed we had, until you appeared with that despicable toad of a man, but I won’t discuss it until we know about Amy.’

‘Whatever,’ he said as he bent down to try and open the drawer.

‘I should have brought a screwdriver up. I mean, under the circumstances we should just break the lock open.’

‘Do you want me to go down and fetch one?’ he asked impatiently and she sighed, nodding her head. He paused at the door. ‘It’s strange coming back here – I’d forgotten how big the place is. Do you know how long it’s been?’

‘Yes, I am aware,’ she snapped and he looked at her and then walked out.

The gates to the large house had been left open and DI Reid was able to pass straight through to the wide drive before parking between Lena’s Lexus and a convertible Mini. The Lexus was highly polished, but the Mini was mud-splattered and looked as if it had not been cleaned for some time. He peered inside it, noticing old parking tickets, newspapers and a pair of jogging shoes, and jumped in surprise when Harry Dunn, Lena’s driver, asked what he was doing. He explained who he was and Harry apologized, and said he was just about to give a quick dust to the Lexus.

Reid went up the three pristine white steps, past two huge pillars, to the blue-painted front door with its magnificent carved brass lion’s head on a big looped knocker. Noticing there was also a doorbell, he pressed that. From his former career as an estate agent, he appreciated the value of upmarket property, and this one he reckoned was worth at least four million pounds. It was truly impressive.

Agnes introduced herself as she led Reid into a sitting room. If he had been impressed with the exterior of the property this vast room was stunning. It had huge white sofas with decorative cushions placed in front of a stone fireplace, wooden logs stacked in the grate. The many windows looked out over a spacious manicured garden; on the York stone paved terrace stood carved tables and chairs. He took off his raincoat and folded it over the side of the sofa arm, but did not sit down; instead he walked around, gazing at all the many collectible items – snuffboxes and a profusion of scented candles which were grouped on side tables; over the mantel there were silver-framed photographs. He was about to take a closer look at these when Marcus walked in.

‘I’m Marcus Fulford, Amy’s father,’ he said, and indicated the screwdriver in his hand. ‘I was about to try and unlock a drawer in my daughter’s dressing table – Lena thinks her diary might be inside.’

DI Reid handed him his card and was introducing himself as Lena walked in.

‘I’ve had some sandwiches made, and there’s coffee.’

‘Thank you, that’s very kind.’

Lena called to Agnes to bring in the tray and gestured for Reid to sit on one of the sofas. ‘This is Agnes Moors, my housekeeper.’

Agnes gave a polite nod, putting down the tray, wondering whether or not Lena wanted her to pour the coffee.

‘Thank you, Agnes, I’ll serve. Marcus, do you want to sit down?’

‘Sure, unless – do you want me to try and prise the drawer lock?’

Lena looked to Reid, and he shrugged, but then added that perhaps Mr Fulford could have a chat first as he had already had a lengthy conversation with his wife. Lena poured the coffee and recalled that Reid took it black with sugar; it was all very civilized, yet very tense. Marcus perched on an arm of a sofa and began to tap the screwdriver in the palm of his hand. Reid would have liked to take a sandwich but felt it was perhaps not a good idea as he needed to get started questioning them both, especially Marcus. He had already taken in the man’s untidy appearance, and thought that although he was undoubtedly good-looking, he seemed more agitated than his wife and overall as a couple they didn’t quite fit together. Reid noticed that she had changed her clothes, and appeared even more attractive than before. She passed her husband a coffee, and then lastly poured herself one. She also took a sandwich and nibbled at it, with a napkin balanced precisely on her knee. Marcus refused one, but started to drink his coffee.

‘Okay, I need to clarify from you, Mr Fulford, exactly when and where your last interaction with your daughter was?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Where and when did you last see her, how did she behave and what did she talk about?’

‘It was the weekend before the one just gone; I picked her up on the Saturday morning from school, around eleven thirty. On the way home we stopped for a hamburger at one of the drive-in McDonald’s and ate it in the car on the way back to my flat. Amy went to her room and stayed in there on her own until about five p.m. when she got changed and we went to a movie at the local cinema in Fulham. We usually try to go to the one in Mayfair but there was nothing on there that she wanted to see . . .’ He paused, frowning and thinking to himself.

Lena listened, still nibbling at the sandwich. She loathed McDonald’s and would not be seen dead in one of its restaurants, never mind ordering a takeaway and eating it in the car.

‘I’ve remembered the film – it was one with vampires, and she had a thing about the actor in it. Anyway, afterwards we went over to Chelsea in my car. The shops were all open and we walked up and down until about nine. Amy went into Zara as she was looking for a dress that one of her friends had bought but they didn’t have her size, so then we went to an Italian restaurant in Beauchamp Place – San Lorenzo. We had dinner and went home. She went straight to bed, and then we got up early in the morning and had a walk in Hyde Park; after that we sort of lounged around – I had some calls to make and she watched TV. She made us a brunch – eggs and bacon – and then I had to pop out to see someone. I got back around six and drove her to school as she has to be there by seven.’

Reid made no interruptions; he jotted down a few notes, and appeared to listen intently until Marcus finished talking. ‘So, did she seem in any way different? Worried, even? Did she mention anything to you that would give you an indication she was upset about something?’

‘No. Only upset they didn’t have her size in the dress she wanted, but she was her usual lovely, easy-going self. I think she said she wanted to work on an essay, which she might have done while I went out on the Sunday afternoon, but she never mentioned that anything was upsetting her, and when we walked together we chatted about how she was doing at school, usual things, but she never brought up anything that would indicate to me she had any worries.’

‘What about discussing your present situation – the separation, the divorce proceedings?’

Marcus shrugged. ‘No, it’s always been a sort of unspoken thing between us: I don’t talk about Lena, and the separation is not a recent thing – we’ve been apart for two years. I don’t think when she is with her mother that she discusses me; whether or not she tells her what we did, I don’t know.’

‘We don’t talk about Marcus when she is with me,’ Lena interjected and went on to say it was not a rule but it was just their way of dealing with the separation.

‘Do you see each other when your daughter is at school?’

‘No, we don’t,’ Lena said, glancing at Marcus before she continued. ‘We did meet this Monday with our lawyers and as I said before we have an amicable separation for Amy’s wellbeing.’

‘So neither of you can think of any reason why your daughter would take off without making contact?’

Lena put her unfinished sandwich back onto the tray. ‘I have said this over and over again: this is totally out of character, she is an exceptionally well behaved and thoughtful girl, and she has never ever taken off without telling us where she’s going and leaving us names and addresses. Obviously, we also keep phone contact.’

‘On these occasions when you say she’s “taken off”, where did she go?’ Reid asked without looking at either of them.

‘Well, she’s had sleepovers with school friends, weekend activities with the school, parties that she would be late home from – I meant nothing that would sound alarm bells.’

Reid tapped his pen on his notebook, then said he’d like to see Amy’s bedroom and suggested that Marcus or Lena open their daughter’s locked drawer to see if there was, as suspected, a diary kept inside. He also said that he would like to talk to Agnes, and also Lena’s driver.

Following them up the stairs, he was even more impressed with the immaculate decor and style of the house. Entering their daughter’s bedroom was a surprise as it was so devoid of any girlish designs; everything was in its place, neat and tidy. Too tidy, he thought to himself.

Marcus bent down to use the screwdriver on the locked drawer but Lena stopped him. ‘Wait, let’s try and find the key first. That is a really good piece of furniture, it’s an antique . . .’

Marcus looked up at her in disbelief. ‘Lena, we’ve got to open it, there may be something in there that can help us!’

‘Of course, you’re right. I’d just hate for Amy to be upset with us when she comes home. It’s her privacy.’