Leon went first. ‘Sarge, Mrs Thornton from the hostel gave me Amanda’s parents’ phone number. I spoke to her mother. She told me Amanda wasn’t there and they weren’t expecting her home. I then called Mrs Delaney and she was certain that no one had returned to the basement flat.’
‘OK, thanks. Let’s try again on Monday... it’s very important we find her. What about you, Sara?’
‘Karen Middleton had one regular visitor when she was at the rehab centre, her husband’s sister, Joyce Miller. Like I say, she was a regular visitor, but they said she was wheelchair-bound and eventually became too ill to —’
‘Where does she live?’ Jack asked impatiently.
‘Surbiton. I have her phone number but couldn’t get through. I reported it and was told there was a fault on the line and had been for some time.’
Jack sighed. ‘Let’s go and interview her now, then. And I’d like you to come along.’
Sara went to collect her briefcase and mobile phone and hurried to catch Jack, who had already left the incident room.
He was sitting in his car with the engine running. Sara climbed in beside him and gave him the address to enter into the satnav.
‘Are you sure you’re OK to drive?’
Jack was fiddling with the directions, ignoring her.
‘I mean, did they give you Procaine?’
‘Sara, I’m fine,’ he said firmly, hoping to put an end to the conversation.
Sara pursed her lips and remained silent as they drove to the large housing estate in Surbiton. When the satnav said they had arrived at their destination, she curtly pointed out that the flat numbers were on the side of the building, and they were on the wrong side for flat 324.
Jack did a U-turn and followed the narrow lane round the huge estate to the other side. He was able to park almost in front of the relevant block. Glass double doors led into a reception area and number 324 was conveniently located just inside.
‘Now we’ve got here, she’s probably not at home,’ Jack said moodily.
Sara rang the bell, waited a minute, then rang it again. They stood side by side, listening.
‘The lights are on,’ Sara said quietly.
Jack leant forwards and pressed the bell again, keeping his finger on it until the main front door to the building opened. A small, wizened man with a black beret walked in carrying a large box of groceries.
‘She can’t get to the door, you know. Are you from Social Services?’
Jack showed his ID and introduced himself and Sara. The small man balanced the box on his knee and took out a set of keys to open the flat door.
‘I’m her husband. My name’s Harold. What are you here for?’
Jack explained that he wanted to talk to Joyce about her nephew. Harold shrugged and Jack quickly took the groceries from his knee as he looked as if he was about to drop them. The door opened and Harold ushered them inside.
‘I’ll go and see if she can talk to you, but she’s not been up for much recently. At weekends the carers only come in twice, to get her dressed and put her to bed, so, I’m at her beck and call.’
They stood in the hallway, which had a hideously garish orange floral carpet. There was no furniture, and Harold took off his coat and beret and hung them on a single hook on the back of the front door.
‘Do you need us to wear masks?’ Sara asked.
‘No, don’t bother. We both had all the vacs,’ Harold said.
‘Go straight ahead into the kitchen while I go and check on her.’
They made their way into a large, tiled kitchen, with a bright lino floor and numerous new-looking appliances. Jack put the box of groceries down on a small table with a plastic tablecloth and two matching chairs. They could hear muffled voices. Sara began to unload the groceries from the box. There was lettuce, tomatoes, bags of different vegetables, a sliced seeded loaf, and a sealed bag containing fresh salmon.
‘They certainly eat very healthily.’ She placed everything out on the table, not knowing where to store everything.
Jack moved closer to the door and could hear Harold saying that she ‘should sit up’. There was a soft moaning sound before Harold came out of the bedroom. He was sweating.
‘Sorry, I had to use the hydraulics to get the bed moving for her to sit up. It’s a new machine and cost a fortune, but it can be problematic. Give her ten minutes to settle herself, then you can go in.’
‘I’m sorry for any inconvenience,’ Jack said. ‘We tried to call, but your phone’s out of order.’
‘Tell me about it. We’ve had one problem after another ever since we got an extension put into the bedroom. BT have been back and forth trying to fix it. Now, can I get you a cup of tea?’
‘No, thank you.’
Harold noticed the groceries laid out on the table and thanked Sara. He began putting them into the large fridge.
‘Did you order my dinner?’ a loud voice called out.
Harold sighed and went to the kitchen door. ‘Yes, I did, they’re delivering in about half an hour. Do you want a cup of tea?’
‘No, I don’t. They can come in now.’
Jack and Sara walked past Harold and into the bedroom. As soon as they saw her, they struggled to hide their reactions. Joyce was enormous, swathed in a satin kimono that ballooned around her vast bulk. She was propped up against the padded headboard of a huge bed that took up most of the space in the room. There were various levers and wires attached to it, and the mattress was about four feet off the ground. Positioned next to the bed was a table on wheels, as well as a cabinet on wheels holding an array of pills, medicines, and cosmetics, along with a makeup mirror. The wall opposite Joyce had numerous framed photographs on it, and a very impressive flat screen TV. There was a DVD player and stacks of DVDs on a small bookstand underneath it.
‘Good afternoon, Joyce,’ said Jack. ‘I’m Detective Sergeant Jack Warr and this is DC Sara Norton.’
‘I hope he gave you a cup of tea. I’m sorry to have kept you waiting. You wasn’t expected and I always have to have time to get this contraption working. It helps me sit up, and it can also get me onto my feet, but to be honest it’s too painful. Did he tell you I’ve not left this room for over two years?’
‘I am very sorry to hear that. Thank you for agreeing to talk to us.’
‘You’re a nice-looking young man!’ she said, giving him a coy smile.
Joyce had so many chins that her features seemed to be tiny compared with the size of her head. Her arms were enormous rolls of fat hung from her shoulders, with tiny little hands and painted fingernails. Jack guessed she must have weighed at least thirty stone. There was nowhere for either of them to sit, so they just stood beside the gigantic bed.
‘We just want to ask a few questions about your nephew, Rodney.’
‘How did you find me?’ she asked, patting her chest.
‘Sara contacted the rehab centre where your sister-in-law, Karen, stayed. They kindly gave us your address.’
‘Which one? She went to so many, and none of them did her any good. She’d go in and clean herself up, then come out and go straight back on the drugs. Tragic, she was, absolutely tragic... but I got so bad I just couldn’t get in to see her. Anyway, she topped herself in the end... everyone expected it. She never recovered after her girls died... it broke her and broke my heart too. Those little girls were adorable, that’s them behind you on the wall... first thing I see in the morning... and the last thing at night.’
Jack turned to look at the framed photographs of the two pretty girls, at various ages from toddler to around the age they were when they died.
‘I have a young daughter, so I can understand how terrible it must have been,’ Jack said.
‘It was terrible. They used to come for weekends with me sometimes, and I took them to the park. I had an electric wheelchair then and they would sit on my knee and have such a laugh. They were cheeky little devils as well, just like any youngster, and Karen spoiled them. They both had iPads and would be on them whenever they could, playing games; the beeping and pinging used to drive Harold mad. Did he not give you a cup of tea?’