‘If you give me his details, I’ll have a word. See what I can do.’
‘Thanks. Sorry. Did you want a word?’
‘If we could,’ said Kay.
‘Morning, Detectives.’ A smartly dressed woman peered out the door, then stepped to one side to let them through.
‘Morning, Hazel.’
Kay hoped her voice didn’t betray her relief at seeing Hazel Aldridge, one of the division’s family liaison officers. As a conduit between the police investigation and Sophie’s family, Hazel’s role was invaluable.
‘Mrs Whittaker is in the living room,’ she said.
‘Come through,’ said Matthew, and led the way across the hallway.
He pushed open a dark coloured wooden door and stood to one side to let them pass.
Diane Whittaker rose from a mauve two-seat sofa, her eyes red.
‘Good morning, Lady Griffith,’ said Kay. ‘I understand this is a very difficult time for you, however we’d like to ask you some initial questions to help with our investigation.’
‘Of course. Please, sit down.’
Kay waited until everyone had settled before pulling out her notebook. ‘When we apprehended Peter Evans last night, he had some clothes packed into a suitcase, and Sophie’s passport.’
Diane gasped and sank back against the cushions, her hand over her mouth.
‘How— how did he get that?’ said Matthew.
‘Can you tell me more about Peter’s relationship with Sophie?’
‘There wasn’t a relationship,’ Diane spat. ‘Despite what they thought.’
‘We’d introduced Sophie to Josh Hamilton through our church group six months ago,’ said Matthew. ‘About five weeks after that, she mentioned Peter for the first time. I think she’d bumped into him in town when she was out with friends one Saturday afternoon.’
Kay flipped open her notebook and jotted down the details. ‘What did she say?’
‘Well, she didn’t exactly mention him,’ said Matthew, and coughed. ‘She and Eva were talking about him when they got back here, and didn’t realise Diane and I were on the terrace under Sophie’s window. We overheard them talking about him.’
‘That bloody girl,’ muttered Diane.
‘Can you elaborate?’
‘Sophie asked Eva what she thought of Peter,’ said Matthew. ‘I think Eva knew of him prior to them meeting, possibly through another friend of hers. She told Sophie that Peter wasn’t seeing anyone, and that it was rare to see him in the summer. Apparently, he spends a lot of time down in Cornwall surfing. Or travelling overseas.’
‘He’s good for nothing,’ said Diane, her chin tilted upwards. ‘No prospects.’
‘So, back to my question – how did he come to have Sophie’s passport in his possession?’
‘Hasn’t he told you?’
‘I’d like to hear your thoughts.’
Diane sniffed. ‘I think he probably convinced her to run away with him rather than marry Josh.’
Kay glanced at Barnes. ‘Lady Griffith, would you mind showing DC Barnes where Sophie’s window is in relation to the terrace?’ She turned to Matthew. ‘I’d like to see her bedroom, if you wouldn’t mind showing me?’
Diane rose from the sofa with a sigh and beckoned to Barnes. ‘This way.’
‘I’ll meet you back in the hallway,’ said Kay as he passed her.
She caught up with Matthew and followed him up the staircase, casting her eyes over the family photographs placed on the wall as she climbed the treads.
In each, the three family members were gathered formally as the years traced Sophie’s life; Matthew standing behind his seated wife in the earlier photos, his hands on her shoulders while Sophie grew from a baby in her mother’s lap to a toddler. As Sophie matured, she stood next to her mother, while Matthew had placed a protective hand on each of their shoulders.
Kay paused near the top of the stairs and allowed Matthew to continue without her. She stepped closer to the final photograph and peered at the ensemble. The girl that stared back at her held her head high with an almost defiant look in her eyes as she posed for the camera, and despite the fact she wasn’t wearing heels, was only a few inches shorter than her father. In this most recent photograph, his hand was no longer placed on her shoulder, but on the upper part of her left arm.
Kay frowned as she peered at the photograph, and then glanced at Matthew. ‘The same dress she was wearing last night? It looks like a communion dress.’
A sad smile crossed the man’s lips. ‘No, not a communion. This was taken six weeks ago. Ready for her pledge ceremony. We wanted to get some professional photographs taken before the day, in case the weather turned inclement.’
‘Pledge ceremony?’
‘It’s growing in popularity here. Sophie was a little old for it, but—’ He shrugged. ‘She wanted to do it. Most girls take a pledge when they have their thirteenth birthday, or sometimes before that.’
‘What does it mean?’
‘She undertook to remain chaste until she was married.’
Kay’s eyebrows shot upwards. ‘Is it legally binding?’
He shook his head. ‘That’s not the point. It’s binding in our Lord’s eyes.’
‘Oh.’
His hand shook as he reached out and traced his fingers down the glass pane, and then he sniffed. ‘Her bedroom’s this way. Your lot finished a few hours ago.’
He led the way along a carpeted landing, and then stopped at the last door on the right. ‘This is Sophie’s.’
‘Thank you,’ said Kay. She paused at the threshold while Matthew switched on the lights.
Spotlights in the ceiling cast a muted tone until he turned the dimmer switch, illuminating the space in a harsher light.
She frowned. ‘The curtains are drawn – why?’
Anger flashed across his face. ‘Bloody reporters. One of the caterers helping to clear up this morning saw a camera flash from up in the woods behind the house. Probably trying to get a photograph of your colleagues while they were working in here. We’ve had to close all the curtains on this side of the house.’
‘I’ll have a word once I’m back at the station. See if I can put
