‘Maybe they didn’t think it was a good idea for him to be reminded?’
A woman officer approached them,
‘Sorry to interrupt,’ she offered the group before turning to face Grey,
‘Inspector, you had a call, the man said it was urgent.’
‘Who was it?’
‘A Campbell Leigh.’
‘Lord, they’re all coming out of the woodwork today,’ muttered Glass.
‘He said to tell you that, “She’s at the Berlin Wall Memorial”. He thought you’d want to know.’
‘Thank you.’
‘So what did that old trouble-maker want?’ Glass asked of Grey after their messenger had left them.
‘Another lead, Grey?’ asked the Super.
‘Sir, Cori and I need to be on this: it’s one of the girls Stella was tutoring.’
‘The one on the staircase the night she was killed?’
‘No, we think the other one; but they are best friends, one leads to the other.’
‘Okay, but I need you back here A.S.A.P. Everyone else on Mars.’ The Superintendent was decisive: ‘Sarah, I want that man’s life story on my desk before we meet this evening.’
‘Right, sir.’
‘Glass, I want his whereabouts known and kept tabs on; also, whatever we have on this cowboy security outfit he’s running.’
‘I’m on it.’
Regroup at my office at five. Good afternoon.’
Chapter 14 — Stacie Kehoe
‘So who’s this Campbell Leigh?’ asked the Sergeant.
‘Ah,’ answered the Inspector, ‘you didn’t know that I had a contact now on the Hills Estates Community Forum? It was a long shot, asking his help, but he knows a lot of people and he knows Stacie Kehoe: she’s the toast of the town apparently, won a school prize; and not only that but he saw her not half an hour ago.’
‘I’ll fetch the car.’
‘Where are we going?’ asked Cori once they were moving.
‘Near the Prove site,’ answer Grey, ‘though go there via the Cedars; which will be educational in it’s own right, as you’ll appreciate we’ll be following Charlie’s death-walk by daylight.’
They took the car first to Cedars Avenue, before beginning the journey proper. The five-minute’s drive took them first along the sedate Avenue, then onto the instant flurry of one of the town’s major arteries, before eventually seeing them turning off into the maze of Groves, Walks and Passages that made up the geographical patchwork that was the Hills estates.
The site of Stacie’s sighting wasn’t far from where a police cordon still fluttered around the courtyard where Charlie Prove had met his end; yet the drive there was less useful than Grey had hoped, as Cori, busy with the indicator and craning forward at each junction, eventually had to concede,
‘I can’t get any nearer that way, and the other direction’s pedestrianised.’ A line was flashing on the satnav, but that turned out to be a gated alleyway. ‘Who designed this place?’
Between the odd shapes of flats and houses Grey could see another road between them and where they their destination lay, one with garages and small bunker-like shops running along it; yet like his partner couldn’t see how to get to it from the road they were on.
Were such streetplans designed to militate against car use? Grey didn’t know, but imagined that on foot there would be a dozen ways to walk between here and the Cedars, and that he could try and trace Charlie’s route as many times and never follow his exact footsteps.
‘Looks like we’ll have to take the last bit by foot,’ he suggested.
‘And what a lovely place you’ve left me to park the car.’
The ‘Monument to the Falling of the Berlin Wall’ was twenty years old now and still doing its job. Situated a few yards in from the near side of the largest area of greenery in this section of the Hills, it had been designed to offer a focal point and enliven the landscape without taking away valuable free space. Circular, three foot tall, and around three yards across, it was a raised disc of grass the shape of a sponge cake, with the mini-representation of the famous Wall acting as the cake tin or decorative ribbon running around the side and holding the elevated section in place. The ‘Wall’, complete with etched-in authentic graffiti (overlaid with more modern additions) had around the circumference panels broken, missing or appearing to tilt to one side, in representation of how the Berlin Wall looked that famous night, when those held behind it for so long took to it with pick-axes and lump-hammers.
Essentially it formed a tiny ha-ha wall, though with no stately home atop it to keep the cows away from. Grey, when passing this way and where appropriate, could never resist jumping to the top for the optical illusion it offered of grass running off unbroken in all directions. Not today though, as the monument was not vacant, it instead already occupied by a figure sat cross-legged at the centre and distractedly watching a distant football game. That they were here wearing a school blazer on a schoolday afternoon seemed in the circumstances neither here nor there.
Mindful of procedure, along their way here Grey had again called the Kehoes. Stacie’s father now approached from the opposite direction to meet them.
‘Dad!’ she started as she saw him approach. ‘I couldn’t face going in today.’
‘It’s not about school. Stacie, love, these people just want to talk to you about Ms Dunbar, your tutor.’
‘Are you the police?’ Relieved in one way now, she hopped off the monument to join them in that way only teenagers possess, of having energy to burn but still appearing sullen about it. But Grey could tell that this was not her normal mode and that she was just upset.
‘Hello Stacie,’ I’m Inspector Rase and this is Sergeant Smith. You know why we want to speak to you?’
‘Am I in trouble?’
‘Not that I know of; but you did know Ms Dunbar didn’t you, and have you heard what happened to her?’
‘She was murdered.’
‘Yes, she was, and so you see we must speak to everyone who knew her at all.’
‘Can we talk here? I like it here.’
‘Of course we can. So, when did you last see her?’
‘Thursday after school.’
‘This was your regular appointment?’ (She nodded) ‘And you hadn’t seen her since?’
‘No.’
‘How long have you been seeing her?’
‘Since the start of last term.’
‘It isn’t that she isn’t clever, Inspector.’ This was her father speaking.
‘Oh no, I wouldn’t want to suggest it was.’
‘Her teachers recommended her to get a tutor because she was so bright: to push herself, to do even better, to learn even more and get into college, maybe even university.’
‘So Ms Dunbar was specifically recommended?’
At this the father looked shamefaced,
‘The thing was, Inspector, when it was first suggested we get a tutor for Stacie, we weren’t able to afford one.’
‘So how..?’
‘Esther’s family…’ burst in Stacie to break the silence, her own father clarifying,
‘We don’t — didn’t pay for Ms Dunbar’s tutoring.’
‘My friend Esther was seeing Stella already. She needed to: she’d missed a lot of school and so her family were sending her there to catch up. She didn’t enjoy the lessons, and so she asked me to go with her and wait for her afterwards. Esther took me along one week and we all got on. Stella gave me a book to read, and she was thrilled the next week when I came back and told her I’d finished it.’
